quête:master keys

BLACK/RED VINYL

A match made in heaven and hell, since forming in the cradle of Europe Athens, back in 2012, dark synth duo Selofan have paved their own perditious way, reinventing the modern Darkwave scene throughout the continent and worldwide with their prolific creativity and work ethic over the past decade. Through varied experimental synth-scapes conjured with keen ears for sound design, production, and theatrical aesthetics, Selofan rest not on the laurels of just creating highly danceable coldwave infused music, but with together with Joanna Pavlidou's haunting vocals, and Dimitris Pavlidis' throbbing bass guitar, and modular synth compositions, the pair conjure whole other worlds and narratives throughout each album and music video they create. Thus far the Selofan have released 5 studio albums, issued through their own legendary label they curate themselves: Fabrika Records. Through their Fabrika family, Selofan have championed such acts as Lebanon Hanover, and She Past Away, aiding these bands in becoming two of the most popular Darkwave acts worldwide. Drab Majesty even cameoed in a She Past Away video while being hosted by Selofan during one of the band's frequent stays in Athens, and Kaelan Mikla, a handpicked favorite of The Cure, were first championed by Selofan, through the release of the Icelandic Trio's self-titled debut in 2016. In the Spring of 2020, Selofan released the video for the hopelessly plaintive "There Must Be Somebody", the first single from their forthcoming sixth studio album Partners In Hell, the follow-up to 2018's widely popular Vitrioli LP. "There Must be Somebody" is a discordant composition, mimicking the startled song of birds after a disturbance in a wooded enclave on a mountainside, while a magick ritual unfolds. The album itself opens with "Grey Gardens", a menagerie of morose melodies setting a sombre tone for the rest of a bleak record whose sound design and dreamscapes evoke the best sounds of British and German post-punk of the 80s. "Almost Nothing" is a brooding bell-driven track with a dark and pirouetting melody that is the perfect soundtrack to a figurine twirling in a music box. The German language "Nichts" means No, and this song is both sinister and cinematic with sighing keys, shuddering drum machines, and German lyrics sung with sorrowful conviction. "Zusamen", is a word often asked if you are together, or separate, is a dark ballad whose shadowy keys weave a nightmarish delirium, evoking the soundscapes of a lullaby sung in a haunted dollhouse. "4am" is a restless rhythm, whose soft percussive melody tosses and turns alongside subtle bass and string accents overlaid with despondent vocals. "Happy Consumers" sounds like the swirling of a finger drawn upon the edge of crystalline glass, with vocals and drum machines coming emanating from an adjacent room with echoing acoustics, collectively evoking the sound like lingers when the somnambulist wakes from his dream. "Absolutely Absent" hums onward like a phantom train ride that is a one-way ticket to madness, and with the next track "Metalic Isolation" the locomotive beats gather more steam, propelled forward with anachronistic melody. The album closes with "Auf Dein Haut", which translates as on your skin, and the song is both tactile and tenebrous with sensuously dark synth textures amidst howling German vocals that take flight like witches during a sabbat. Partner's In Hell was mixed and produced by Serafim Tsotsonis, and mastered by Doruk Ozturkcan. Genre: Alternative / Post-Punk / Cold Wave

As the leader of new outfit Sarter Kit, saxophonist Tara Sarter is creating a unique form of minimal, experimental jazz drawing on humanist principles and shared experiences. Her uncluttered and emotionally heavy debut album 'What I am and What I'm Not' creates an open, instrumental soundworld, where breaks and silences command equal gravitas as the notes and beats.
The masterful drumming of Lukas Akintaya dances between oblique patterns in odd meters, into rolling grooves and afrobeat inspired rhythms. On keys and synth, Elias Stemeseder creates tension and releases, with lingering chords and fragile melodies. Stemeseder's synthesizer work throughout the album is subtle yet masterful. Stalking the silence between the sax, drums and piano, creating a haze of digital textures within the margins of the music. Much of the album was recorded live, preserving the raw, unedited energy of their performances.
Beyond its musical qualities, 'What I am and What I'm Not' is a reflection of Sarter's belief in the power of music as a form of human connection. For Sarter, music is not about proving technical prowess but about creating something meaningful, something that transcends barriers and speaks to the shared experience of being human.

Demonstrating the poignant power of experience + human connection + innate musicality + operating in the present moment, Jeff Mills' Spiral Deluxe collective unveil their second album - The Love Pretender. Driven by the free expression and creativity of improvised performance, Spiral Deluxe is an electronic jazz fusion project comprised electronic music visionary Jeff, along with legendary keyboardist Gerald Mitchell (Underground Resistance/ Los Hermanos), Japanese rocker Yumiko Ohno (Buffalo Daughter/Cornelius) on Moog synthesizer and the Japanese bassist, adopted New Yorker, Kenji "Jino" Hino - son of Terumasa Hino, the world famous jazz trumpeter. Together, the four key players formed a band centred around completely improvised journeys through sound.

During their unrestrained performances, what Jeff describes as sonic "conversations" arose between the musicians, as they each contributed to full-length live shows, and studio sessions. Within the boundless parameters of freeform spontaneity, they developed an unspoken understanding of one another, finding balance and poise within the unplanned performances. The resulting recordings have been used for three releases so far: Two EPs, Kobe Session (2016) and Tathata (2017), and their debut album Voodoo Magic in 2018. With The Love Pretender, we're presented with another stunning collection of "tracks" extracted from one long improv session.

With each musician proficient in their specialism and, of course, an all-out music lover, the communication between the group members became almost telepathic. Very little preparation was needed, and their performances flowed naturally and organically. This can be heard, and felt, throughout The Love Pretender. Tracks like 'The Soloist' evolve effortlessly, each new shift subtly influenced by one of the musicians nudging the conversation into a different phase, and the rest responding accordingly, or vice versa. It's music that embodies the true nature of mindfulness and letting go of fear. In their unstructured, liberated cocoon the artists thrive and create musical moments that have, fortunately, been captured for us all to immerse ourselves in. Jazzy notes fill the air, combined with electronic bass, synthesised beats, sparkling keys and an all-round warm and welcoming atmosphere, with the slight edge you can only get from improvised performance.

Sylvain Luc's posthumous appearance on the album is of significance too. The French guitarist died in March 2024 at the age of 59. His natural flair adds another dimension to the album, bringing a touch of that laid back 1980s American California Coast feeling to tracks such as 'Society's Man'. These contributions to the LP, recorded separately, add character - a final sprinkling of humanity to complement the aliveness and presence of this body of work. Three other musicians also added their creative energy to the project. They were; TOKU, a Japanese jazz musician who specialises in wind instruments, especially the cornet, trumpet and flugel horn. And there's Masa Shimizu, who also has wide-ranging with the guitar, as well as being a producer.

Themes on the album include the optimism one can have by simply trusting the process and trusting that everything will work out in the end. By playing together in the way they do, Spiral Deluxe place their trust in the mystery of what will happen next. Getting comfortable with not knowing is key to a sense of peace with regard to the future and this energy is vital to their collective musical output. By embracing the notion of the unknown, you become an eternal optimist, living in the moment, rather than projecting into the future. This cultivates excitement, an antidote to anxiety.

Meanwhile, the title alludes to the shifts and changes that have occurred in today's society, whereby it's possible to achieve success through pretending. The superficiality, and falsehood, that can often be presented via social media, can lead to questions about what's real and what's not. From AI to the fake personas that populate the dominant platforms, The Love Pretender speaks to a process that is symbolic of the time we're living in. Behaviour that has become acceptable in today's world, which may not have been as welcomed a few decades ago. But this is part of the cycle of life...

Jeff's intention with this music is to present it in high-fidelity, to be listened to over and over and over again. In post-recording he worked for hours to ensure the audio quality was as high as it could be. The goal is to create music that people can live with their entire lives, from his solo work to these masterful improvisations. Music that comes to life, music that has a voice we can replicate with our own vocals. Expressive, unstructured, and alive...

With The Love Pretender Jeff Mills continues his mission to experiment with music outside the bounds of what is typically expected. It's freeing, enlivening, vibrant and uniquely human. As ever, Jeff's visionary outlook and bold approach to musical performance and recording has produced a body of work that epitomises his often revolutionary capabilities. There's no pretending here, just pure unadulterated sonic transmissions from a wonderfully daring, inspiring and optimistic ensemble...

Red w. Black Smoke Vinyl

After 25 years, eight albums, and countless gigs, BLEEDING THROUGH persist as a tried-and-true outlier in heavy music and culture. The Southern California stalwarts wield an enigmatic and unmistakable signature sound born at the cross roads of no-holds-barred hardcore, cutthroat thrash, and cinematic black metal.
Mastering a drastic push-and-pull, they have always occupied their own elevated realm in the extreme space, exhibiting a rare ability to not only incite a moshpit, but also invite complete immersion. It’s why they’ve endured changing tides and trends and stood strong as a force of nature with consistent critical acclaim and packed shows. However, the six-piece - Brandan Schieppati vocals, Derek Youngsma [drums], John Arnold [guitar], Ryan Wombacher [bass], Marta Peterson [keys, vocals] and Brandon Richter [guitar] - assuredly perfect this vision in 2025 on their aptly titled ninth full-length offering, NINE.

Sarang Bang Records proudly presents Eternal Afternoon, the latestfull-length offering from Auckland-based composer, producer, and multi-instrumentalist, Joe Kaptein. Drawing inspiration from the 70s jazz-funk innovations of Donald Byrdand Lonnie Liston Smith
and elements of dub and disco, Eternal Afternoon is an uplifting collection of five original Kaptein compositions - a joyful antidote to these troubled times.

Featuring Kaptein’s intricately layered keys and tight ensemblearrangements, the album is augmented by masterful touches of flute and saxophone by Aotearoa New Zealand jazz icon Nathan Haines and backed by local heavyweights Elijah Whyte (drums) and Wil Goodinson (bass), the backbone of Kaptein’s regular working band.

Seemingly out of nowhere, Kaptein appeared on the Auckland scene a few years ago and quickly made a name for himself owing to his versatility, impeccable taste and musicianship, and has established himself as thego-to keyboardist for the likes of Nathan Haines, The Circling Sun, Princess Chelsea, The Situations, and Muroki.

Before recording Eternal Afternoon, Kaptein somehow managed to channel his unrelenting creative energy into three low-key, but brilliant self-released digital albums in between his hectic international touring schedule and session work. These exploratory recordings touch on drummachine and synth-driven psych-lounge, Krautrock, experimental jazz, and Bacharachian pop, allowing the listener a glimpse into the depth of Kaptein’s vision and his wide-ranging musical interests.

The first HR101 mission is complete. Five masterful sonic weapons with a hi-tech edge, for clubs, warehouses and the great outdoors.

From the spitting lead line, elevating stabs and hands-in-the-air spirit of title track "Love Generator" to the surging rave techno of "Flawless Victory" on the a-side, HR101 traverse the past through a razor-sharp, modern production sheen. "Watch The Collapse" on the flip is a muscular 303-fused offering where grinding bass, breaks and alien frequencies detonate over ominous vocal proclamations. Venturing into more 808-dominant territory, acid rules once again on "Code Breaker", this time over a succession of rich sci-fi keys and morse code. Closing the EP, HR101 go head to head with their birth moniker Human Rebellion for the dark electro funk of "Nocturnal Beings", guiding us to a suitably otherworldly end destination.

NOTHING TO DECLARE


Thanks to Oliviero for his precious and meticulous Artwork and Logo
CVO- Mixing engineer
Andrea “The wizard” Merlini - Master Engineer
Rhythms and Percussions GG
Voices and Keys AG
Arrangements, Composition and Lyrics by GGGA


GGGA | Any given day | 2024

Village Of The Sun return today with the announcement of their highly anticipated debut LP “First Light”. Due out 4th November on heavyweight vinyl via London analogue specialists Gearbox Records, the record follows their widely acclaimed double A-side single “Village Of The Sun / “Ted”. Village Of The Sun is an enigmatic collaboration between UK jazz virtuosos Binker Golding & Moses Boyd and electronic music legend Simon Ratcliffe of Basement Jaxx fame. Born out of a shared passion for improvised instrumental music, the new project sees all three of the artists steps into relatively new territory, combining their respective sensibilities to create something all at once atmospheric and danceable. Evocative of some of Simon’s inspirations such as Alice Coltrane, Airto Moreira and Masters at Work, Village Of The Sun embodies a hybrid of electronic beats, heady jazz improvisation, and sheer, raw energy, breaking ground between pseudo-Samba rhythms, dreamy ambient textures, and explosive sax and percussion. The new single “The Spanish Master” is a total embodiment of what Village Of The Sun is at it’s heart. Combining atmospheric synth lines with percussive electronics, which gently ebb around Boyd’s intricate drumming and Golding’s expressive sax. With tension building around every element the track careens into a movement of frenetic drumming, electronic idiosyncrasies, and fervent sax breakouts, which find the trio performing at their energetic, adrenaline-fuelled best. The album is truly a project of passion and exploration, and one that refuses to follow just one path. Tracks such as “Cesca” and “Tigris” emphasise Ratcliffe’s ability to weave shapeshifting keys and electronics around Golding and Boyd’s interplay, changing the mood and direction of the track at a moment’s notice. Whereas the title track “First Light” channels the sound of the current UK jazz scene with Ratcliffe imbuing a sense of dramatic tension and release with electronic atmospherics and keys that ferment alongside the almost shamanic, semi-free sax lines and uncomprimising drums. As part of one of British dance music’s biggest ever acts, Basement Jaxx, Ratcliffe and collaborator Felix Buxton led the progressive house sound in the 90s/00s with ground-breaking albums Remedy and Rooty, and by releasing a string of Top 10 singles including Red Alert, Rendez-Vu, Romeo, and Where’s Your Head At?. Ratcliffe’s own solo work includes the 1995 EP City Dreams and the 2011 EP Dorus Rijkers - both releases prove his musical versatility and virtuosity. Speaking about the Village of the Sun collaboration, Simon says, “I’ve always liked improvised instrumental music. It has this intensity and eccentricity that takes me places.

Performed by:
Bob Anderson - drums
David Archibald - vocals
Jessica Argo - cello/theremin
Sophie Askew - harp
Ronan Breslin - keys
Jen Cunnion - vocals
Mark Ferrari – bass guitar/vocals
Therese Martin - vocals
Sarah Martin - vocals
Olivia McLean – cello
Simon Whittle – guitars/vocals

Recorded at La Chunky Studios, Glasgow by Ronan Breslin, and mixed/mastered by Johnny Smillie.

Kumio Kurachi is a Japanese singer-songwriter who has been active since the 1980's.

This is his 11th solo album and only the second to be released outside of Japan following ‘Sound of Turning Earth’ (2018) on bison. Though his songs are written and performed primarily on guitar, “Open Today” is a return to Kurachi’s full, multi-instrumental recording style - featuring drums, bass, strings, keys and Kurachi’s rich, distinctive vocals in multiple voicings. Incredibly, all instrumental performances and arrangements were performed and recorded by Kurachi himself - marking a brilliant return to the fully fleshed out visionary world we fell in love with on Supermarket Chitose (Enban, 2006). The super fine detail and dense landscapes of ‘Open Today’ should come as no surprise really - Kurachi is an illustrator by trade and it bleeds right through to his music. Even to the non-native speaker Kurachi’s vocals hold centre stage - at times enormous and thundering over urgent guitar and toms, then switching to softly spoken words amongst keys. Frequently Kurachi multiplies, whether multitracking himself or summoning voices for the characters he writes from sightings on train platforms or supermarkets. His lyrics - translated to English for both formats - are more like poetry, and though written about the mundane they quickly become surreal, bringing the quality of dreams into the everyday. The hours spent on buses, trains or walking home towards a cheap flat - familiar to us all - are catalysts for microcosms of detail.

Again, we shouldn’t be surprised - Kurachi is well known in Japan for winning the national championship of NHK's "Poetry Boxing" in 2002, which also might explain his amazing Discogs photo. Poet, illustrator, multi-instrumentalist - Kurachi is thought of by many as a genius. He’s worked with Jim O’Rourke, Tori Kudo, Eiko Ishibashi and Taku Unami (who did the mastering on this LP). There are lines to be drawn between Kurachi and Kazuki Tomokawa or Kan Mikami, but also Francis Plagne and Fairport Convention.

Ultimately though there is nothing else like it - it’s a brand of strange songcraft that’s totally captivating.

World Seven is a record label brought to you by the Paris & London based Africa Seven crew . We have joined forces with a collective of label heads, music freaks & crusty crate diggers to expand our musical quest - to search the world for sounds, vibes & scenes which cross musical genres and geographical borders. It's all about the music brothers and sisters.

Michel Sardaby was born in Fort de France, Martinique in the French West Indies in 1935. As a child he was surrounded by music in his dad's brasserie. He became a child prodigy on the piano and went on to study art at the Boulle School in Paris before deciding to concentrate on a career as a jazz pianist. Throughout the 60's, he played piano with blues musicians like Sonny Boy Williamson and T-Bone Walker, at the same time beginning to release more jazz-focused solo albums.

The record was recorded in New York in 1975 and the personnel on record is formidable. Billy Hart (McCoy Tyner alumni) is on drums, Richard Davis on bass and Leopold Flemming on Percussion. Michel himself is on keys and delivers a Rhodes master class.

The album itself has been remastered specially for vinyl and pressed (at the request of Michel himself) on heavy weight vinyl.

Jabu return with ‘A Soft and Gatherable Star’, an LP that sees the Bristol-based trio evolve from a uniquely spectral take on trip hop to proffer a singular vision between cloudy, downered dream-pop, off-kilter ambient, and the warm, low-end throb of sound system culture. This development is aligned with contemporaries like HTRK, Dean Blunt, Tarquin Manek, YL Hooi and Rat Heart Ensemble, whilst also harkening back to the likes of AR Kane (with whom they are set to play shows and release a collaborative single), the languorous drift of 'Victorialand' era Cocteau Twins or The Cure circa ‘Disintegration’. Comprising Jasmine Butt (vocals, guitar), Alex Rendall (vocals, keys) and Amos Childs (production, bass guitar), the trio’s method may have shifted but the feel remains consistent - slow, spatial, sensuous and gently melancholic. With a career arc unlike almost any other current guitar outfit, Jabu sit within a strong lineage of off-centre Bristolian music, and a very British strain of home-spun DIY bands. Self-recorded between Jas and Amos’ home in South Bristol and Amos’ mum’s house in rural North Somerset, the album came together via a process of trial and error - learning to play on borrowed instruments, using the equipment “wrong”, staying up late recording and slipping into strange, semi-conscious sleep deprived/inebriated headspaces. Having captured over 50 tracks, they honed in on those they liked most, shaping them further, whilst carving out space to allow input from people they love and admire - Daniela Dyson’s voice and Will Memotone's clarinet on ‘Ashes Over Shute Shelve’, Birthmark's synth on ‘Gently Fade’ and ‘Sea Mills’, Rakhi Singh (Manchester Collective) and Sebastian Gainsborough (Vessel)’s strings and arrangements on ‘All Night’, Josh Horsley’s cello on ‘If I Asked You, You'd Tell Me’, and Lorenzo Prati’s sax, again on ‘Sea Mills’. The album was mastered by Amir Shoat (HTRK, ML Buch, Dean Blunt, Carla Dal Forno). Influence-wise, the guitar-based material recalls the bands Amos listened to when younger, and Jas’ more folk-leaning inspirations. Deep-lying dub, hip hop and soul influences are also evident in both the way the LP was mixed, and the space ingrained in their subconscious. Tinged with melancholy, the songs cohere as a set of soliloquies and ruminations on love and tenderness. The album’s title comes from a poem by Amos’ late father which hangs on his wall and seeped into the record. ‘Ashes Over Shute Shelve’ is formed of lines from another poem of his. Recited by longtime collaborator Daniela Dyson and with Will Yates (Memotone) playing his mother’s clarinet, the track was imagined as a conversation between his parents. Geography and location also play a big part in the record, with several significant places name-checked in songs. Shute Shelve itself is a hill near Amos’ mum’s house, who explains “There’s a tree at the top with a 360° view of the Mendips, where my dad’s ashes were scattered. We used to go up there when we could first buy booze from the petrol station down the road, get drunk, light a fire, listen to music from my little battery powered CD player and sleep out without tents.” Titled after a Bristol suburb near where Amos’ grandparents lived and where Jas would spend time as a teenager, ‘Sea Mills’ references her being abandoned by friends on the Downs while high on mushrooms, stranded and missing the bus back. ‘Kosiše Flower’ references the city in Slovakia where Amos and Jas holidayed shortly after getting together and a flower he gave her, which she pressed in a book after an argument. ‘Oceanside Spider House’ is a location in Nintendo 64 game The Legend of Zelda: Majora’s Mask, where someone seeks shelter from the falling moon. Genre: Electronic / Ambient / Dream-pop

"Bora Rokovic's MPS album, Ultra Native, is one of the most elusive titles in the catalogue and, until now, remained unissued since its original release in 1971. Inzalaco's 'J.B.W.' is a hard-grooving fusion piece with dark minor chords, opening with an almighty drum break – found here in a new all-analogue mastertape edit for this 45 release. 'Soft Hands Had the Rain' features Trunk strutting his stuff on Fender bass, as well as cello overdubs, with Rokovic's brooding improvisations on electric keys."


First vinyl release since 1971 and never before released on 7” single.
AAA Transfers from analogue mastertapes.
Audiophile-grade vinyl – limited-edition pressing of 500 copies.
New artwork authentically recreated on heavyweight gloss sleeves.
Cut at Abbey Road Studios by Grammy award-winning engineer, Sean Magee.

Originally released in 2017, Beast Epic, Iron & Wine’s fourth album for Sub Pop, recasts soft power as a series of vignettes, observations and regular old songs that redeem through joy and a certain expectation of grace. Even the instant classic, “Bitter Truth, with a lyric as pained and direct as any I've heard from Iron & Wine, is leavened with background vocals recalling The Jordanaires. The album brims with surprise flourishes, classic touches and an appealing confidence that is evident on songs like “Call It Dreaming,” “Thomas County Law,” “About A Bruise” to the almost croony “Last Night.” Iron & Wine’s Beast Epic was written and produced by Sam Beam, and recorded and engineered by Tom Schick at the Loft in Chicago in July 2016 and January 2017. The musicians who played on Beast Epic include longtime Iron & Wine collaborators Robert Burger (keys), Joe Adamik (percussion), and Jim Becker (guitar, banjo, violin, mandolin), along with bassist Sebastian Steinberg (Soul Coughing and Fiona Apple), and Chicagoan Teddy Rankin Parker (cello). Beast Epic was mastered by Richard Dodd in Nashville, Tennessee. *The term "soft power" was cribbed from author and Harvard professor Joseph Nye, but used in a different context.

You find Andrew Gabbard on the road and in his creative prime on this astral road trip, collecting songs like a cosmic traveler hitching a ride. "Ramble & Rave On!," Andrew's third solo LP, sounds like the kind of weathered tattoo you'd see etched on a barfly's forearm as he slams another drink in a dive. Like its title, the record feels like something that's always been around; a trusty mixtape that everyone can agree on. Andrew comes to this collection of songs with something that very much feels like a `studio' record, the kind of album a 60s rock star feels like they've built the confidence to make, to shake off a rawness for something fuller and more realized. The fact that this record was yet again a homemade effort, with Andrew playing everything (apart from Sven Kahns' pedal steel), gives you an idea of how devoted and studied he is to creating that perfect song. `Ramble & Rave On!' is Andrew's most personal album yet, it finds him journeying between his worlds as a decades-long touring & studio musician/vocalist for the Black Keys, as a songwriter with his head-in-the-stars, and as the man in his home with the people he holds dearest and with the studio where he brings it all together. It is clear that Andrew finds himself at this prolific point in his career completely beholden to songs, to their absolute power, and to their otherworldly ability to connect. He has mastered his craft, and proves throughout the course of this album that he can truly make a pitstop stop at every genre.

You find Andrew Gabbard on the road and in his creative prime on this astral road trip, collecting songs like a cosmic traveler hitching a ride. "Ramble & Rave On!," Andrew's third solo LP, sounds like the kind of weathered tattoo you'd see etched on a barfly's forearm as he slams another drink in a dive. Like its title, the record feels like something that's always been around; a trusty mixtape that everyone can agree on. Andrew comes to this collection of songs with something that very much feels like a `studio' record, the kind of album a 60s rock star feels like they've built the confidence to make, to shake off a rawness for something fuller and more realized. The fact that this record was yet again a homemade effort, with Andrew playing everything (apart from Sven Kahns' pedal steel), gives you an idea of how devoted and studied he is to creating that perfect song. `Ramble & Rave On!' is Andrew's most personal album yet, it finds him journeying between his worlds as a decades-long touring & studio musician/vocalist for the Black Keys, as a songwriter with his head-in-the-stars, and as the man in his home with the people he holds dearest and with the studio where he brings it all together. It is clear that Andrew finds himself at this prolific point in his career completely beholden to songs, to their absolute power, and to their otherworldly ability to connect. He has mastered his craft, and proves throughout the course of this album that he can truly make a pitstop stop at every genre.

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.

Camelot, the legendary seat of King Arthur's court in Early Middle Ages Britain, was probably not a real place. A corruption of the name of a real Romano-Briton city, the word "Camelot" accumulated symbolic, mythic resonances over centuries, until achieving its present usage as a near-synonym of "utopia." In the mid-20th century alone, Camelot inspired an explosion of representations and appropriations, among them the violent, affectless Arthurian court of Robert Bresson's 1974 film Lancelot du Lac and the absurdist iteration of Monty Python's 1975 Holy Grail, both of which feature armored knights erupting into fountains of blood; the mystical Welsh world of novelist John Cowper Powys's profoundly weird 1951 novel Porius, with its Roman cults, wizards and witches, and wanton giants; and the nationalist nostalgia of President John F. Kennedy's White House. Unsurprisingly there are fewer Camelots in more recent memory. Camelot, Canadian songwriter Jennifer Castle's extraordinary, moving 2024 chronicle of the artist in early middle age, charts a realer, more rooted, and more metaphorical place than the fabled Camelot of the Early Middle Ages (or its myriad depictions), but it too is a space more psychic than physical. In Castle's Camelot, the fantastic interpenetrates the mundane, and the Grail, if there is one, distills everyday experience into art and art into faith, subliming terrestrial concerns into sublime celestial prayers to Mother Nature, and to the unfolding process of perfecting imperfection in one's own nature. Co-produced by Jennifer and longtime collaborator Jeff McMurrich, her seventh record is at once her most monumental and unguarded to date, demonstrating a mastery of rendering her verse and melodies alike with crisply poignant economy. For all their pointedly plainspoken lyrical detail and exhilarating full-band musical flourishes, these songs sound inevitable, eternal as morning devotions. "Back in Camelot," she sings on the lilting, vulnerable title track, "I really learned a lot / circles in the crops and / sky-high geometry." The album opens with a candid admission of sleeping "in the unfinished basement," an embarrassing joke that comes true. But the dreamer is redeemed by dreaming, setting sail in her airborne bed above "sirens and desert deities." If she questions her own agency_whether she is "wishing stones were standing" or just "pissing in the wind"_it does not diminish the ineffable existential jolt of such signs and wonders. This abiding tension between belief and doubt, magic and pragmatism, self and other, sacred and profane, and even, arguably, paganism and monotheism, suffuses these ten songs, which limn an interior landscape shot through with sunstriped shadows of "multi-felt dimensions" both mystical and quotidian. The epic scale and transport of "Camelot," with its swooning strings, gives way dramatically to "Some Friends," an acoustic-guitar-and-vocals meditation in miniature on Janus-faced friends and the lunar and solar temperatures of their promises_"bright and beaming verses" versus hot curses_which recalls her minimalist last album, 2020's achingly intimate Monarch Season. (In a symmetrical sequencing gesture, the penultimate track, the incantatory "Earthsong," bookends the central six with a similarly spare solo performance and coiled chord progression, this time an ambiguous appeal to _ a wounded lover? a wounded saint? our wounded planet?) Those whom "Trust" accuses of treacherous oaths spit through "gilded and golden tooth"_cynics, critics, hypocrites, gurus, scientists, doctors, lovers, government, the so-called entertainment industry_sow uncertainty that can infect the artist, as in "Louis": "What's that dance / and can it be done? What's that song / and can it be sung?" Answering affirmatively are "Lucky #8," an irrepressible ode to dancing as a bulwark against the "tidal pools of pain" and the "theory of collapse," and "Full Moon in Leo," which finds the narrator dancing around the house with a broom, wearing nothing but her underwear and "big hair." But the central question remains: who can we trust, and at what cost faith, in art or angels or otherwise? Castle's confidence in her collaborators is the cornerstone of Camelot. Carl Didur (piano and keys), Evan Cartwright (drums and percussion), and steadfast sideman Mike Smith (bass) comprise a rhythm section of exquisite delicacy and depth. This fundamental trio anchors the airiness of regular backing vocalists Victoria Cheong and Isla Craig and frames the guitars of Castle, McMurrich, and Paul Mortimer (and on "Lucky #8," special guest Cass McCombs). Reprising his decennial role on Castle's beloved 2014 Pink City, Owen Pallett arranged the strings for Estonia's FAMES Skopje Studio Orchestra. On the ravishing country-soul ballad "Blowing Kisses"_Pallett's crowning achievement here, which can be heard in its entirety in the penultimate episode of the third season of FX's The Bear_Jennifer contemplates time and presence, love and prayer_and how songwriting and poetry both manifest and limit all four dimensions: "No words to fumble with / I'm not a beggar to language any longer." Such rare moments of speechlessness_"I'm so fucking honoured," she bluntly proclaims_suggest a state "only a god could come up with." (If Camelot affirms Castle as one of the great song-poets of her generation, she is not immune to the despairing linguistic beggary that plagues all writers.) Camelot evinces a thoroughgoing faith not only in the natural world_including human bodies, which can, miraculously, dance and swim and bleed and embrace and birth_but also in our interpretations of and interventions in it: the "charts and diagrams" of "Lucky #8," a daydreamt billboard on Fairfax Ave. in LA in "Full Moon in Leo," the bloody invocations of the organ-stained "Mary Miracle," and all manner of water worship, rivers in particular. (Notably, Jennifer has worked as a farmer and a doula.) The album ends with "Fractal Canyon"'s repeated, exalted insistence that she's "not alone here." But where is here? The word "utopia" itself constitutes a pun, indicating in its ambiguous first syllable both the Greek "eutopia," or "good-place"_the facet most remembered today_and "outopia," or "no-place," a negative, impossible geography of the mind. Utopia, like its metonym Camelot, is imaginary. Or as fellow Canadian songwriter Neil Young once sang, "Everyone knows this is nowhere." "Can you see how I'd be tempted," Castle asks out of nowhere, held in the mystery, "to pretend I'm not alone and let the memory bend?"

. For Fans Of: The Weather Station, Weyes Blood, Adrianne Lenker, Phoebe Bridgers, Joan Shelley, Lana Del Rey, Cass McCombs, Angel Olsen & Neil Young. Camelot, the legendary seat of King Arthur’s court in Early Middle Ages Britain, was probably not a real place. A corruption of the name of a real Romano-Briton city, the word “Camelot” accumulated symbolic, mythic resonances over centuries, until achieving its present usage as a near-synonym of “utopia.” In the mid-20th century alone, Camelot inspired an explosion of representations and appropriations, among them the violent, affectless Arthurian court of Robert Bresson’s 1974 film Lancelot du Lac and the absurdist iteration of Monty Python’s 1975 Holy Grail, both of which feature armoured knights erupting into fountains of blood; the mystical Welsh world of novelist John Cowper Powys’s profoundly weird 1951 novel Porius, with its Roman cults, wizards and witches, and wanton giants; and the nationalist nostalgia of President John F. Kennedy’s White House. Unsurprisingly there are fewer Camelots in more recent memory. Camelot, Canadian songwriter Jennifer Castle’s extraordinary, moving 2024 chronicle of the artist in early middle age, charts a realer, more rooted, and more metaphorical place than the fabled Camelot of the Early Middle Ages (or its myriad depictions), but it too is a space more psychic than physical. In Castle’s Camelot, the fantastic interpenetrates the mundane, and the Grail, if there is one, distills everyday experience into art and art into faith, subliming terrestrial concerns into sublime celestial prayers to Mother Nature, and to the unfolding process of perfecting imperfection in one’s own nature. Co-produced by Jennifer and longtime collaborator Jeff McMurrich, her seventh record is at once her most monumental and unguarded to date, demonstrating a mastery of rendering her verse and melodies alike with crisply poignant economy. For all their pointedly plainspoken lyrical detail and exhilarating full-band musical flourishes, these songs sound inevitable, eternal as morning devotions. “Back in Camelot,” she sings on the lilting, vulnerable title track, “I really learned a lot / circles in the crops and / sky-high geometry.” The album opens with a candid admission of sleeping “in the unfinished basement,” an embarrassing joke that comes true. But the dreamer is redeemed by dreaming, setting sail in her airborne bed above “sirens and desert deities.” If she questions her own agency whether she is “wishing stones were standing” or just “pissing in the wind” it does not diminish the ineffable existential jolt of such signs and wonders. This abiding tension between belief and doubt, magic and pragmatism, self and other, sacred and profane, and even, arguably, paganism and monotheism, suffuses these ten songs, which limn an interior landscape shot through with sunstriped shadows of “multi-felt dimensions” both mystical and quotidian. The epic scale and transport of “Camelot,” with its swooning strings, gives way dramatically to “Some Friends,” an acoustic-guitar-and-vocals meditation in miniature on Janus-faced friends and the lunar and solar temperatures of their promises—“bright and beaming verses” versus hot curses which recalls her minimalist last album, 2020’s achingly intimate Monarch Season. (In a symmetrical sequencing gesture, the penultimate track, the incantatory “Earthsong,” bookends the central six with a similarly spare solo performance and coiled chord progression, this time an ambiguous appeal to … a wounded lover? a wounded saint? our wounded planet?). Those whom “Trust” accuses of treacherous oaths spit through “gilded and golden tooth” cynics, critics, hypocrites, gurus, scientists, doctors, lovers, government, the so-called entertainment industry sow uncertainty that can infect the artist, as in “Louis”: “What’s that dance / and can it be done? What’s that song / and can it be sung?” Answering affirmatively are “Lucky #8,” an irrepressible ode to dancing as a bulwark against the “tidal pools of pain” and the “theory of collapse,” and “Full Moon in Leo,” which finds the narrator dancing around the house with a broom, wearing nothing but her underwear and “big hair.” But the central question remains: who can we trust, and at what cost faith, in art or angels or otherwise? Castle’s confidence in her collaborators is the cornerstone of Camelot. Carl Didur (piano and keys), Evan Cartwright (drums and percussion), and steadfast sideman Mike Smith (bass) comprise a rhythm section of exquisite delicacy and depth. This fundamental trio anchors the airiness of regular backing vocalists Victoria Cheong and Isla Craig and frames the guitars of Castle, McMurrich, and Paul Mortimer (and on “Lucky #8,” special guest Cass McCombs). Reprising his decennial role on Castle’s beloved 2014 Pink City, Owen Pallett arranged the strings for Estonia’s FAMES Skopje Studio Orchestra. On the ravishing country-soul ballad “Blowing Kisses” Pallett’s crowning achievement here, which can be heard in its entirety in the penultimate episode of the third season of FX’s The Bear Jennifer contemplates time and presence, love and prayer and how songwriting and poetry both manifest and limit all four dimensions: “No words to fumble with / I’m not a beggar to language any longer.” Such rare moments of speechlessness “I’m so fucking honoured,” she bluntly proclaims suggest a state “only a god could come up with.” (If Camelot affirms Castle as one of the great song-poets of her generation, she is not immune to the despairing linguistic beggary that plagues all writers.) Camelot evinces a thoroughgoing faith not only in the natural world including human bodies, which can, miraculously, dance and swim and bleed and embrace and birth but also in our interpretations of and interventions in it: the “charts and diagrams” of “Lucky #8,” a daydreamt billboard on Fairfax Ave. in LA in “Full Moon in Leo,” the bloody invocations of the organ-stained “Mary Miracle,” and all manner of water worship, rivers in particular. (Notably, Jennifer has worked as a farmer and a doula.) The album ends with “Fractal Canyon”s repeated, exalted insistence that she’s “not alone here.” But where is here? The word “utopia” itself constitutes a pun, indicating in its ambiguous first syllable both the Greek “eutopia,” or “good-place” the facet most remembered today and “outopia,” or “no-place,” a negative, impossible geography of the mind. Utopia, like its metonym Camelot, is imaginary

Major Keys return with another jazz funk gem that has never before been released on a 12 inch. We go back to 1977 for one of the era defining albums, Gary Bartz magnificent Music is My Sanctuary. The title track from the double Grammy award winning saxophonist’s LP is an evergreen floor filler, finally seeing it’s long overdue 12 inch debut; a remastered, high volume DJ’s delight. Featuring Syreeta Wright on vocals, Bill Summers & James Mtume on percussion with arrangement by the one and only Larry Mizell, we have an assembled players list at the top of their game. The lyrics, joyful and heartfelt sum up exactly what music means to people, all underpinned by that glorious sax. One for the Heads and the feet, it’s a record that you will go back to time and again.

On the flip is the lesser known Carnaval De L'Esprit, a masterclass in jazz funk, this truly is the sunshine sound. It will lighten the weariest of souls and signals Major Keys as a buy on sight label.