quête:mel tric

Kneading dough is tricky – you should know how it’s supposed to feel. If you try too hard you could make it worse. It’s a beautiful practice – creation with a gentle touch, to work at something so it can be left alone. “If it’s too drawn out it’s awful. It’s easy to give too much.” Dance in the mirror. Contemplate your veiny hands. Who do they remind you of?

You begin by mixing flour and water. “What happens when your people die? Why’d they move the rock to the other side of Ulster Park?” Eliza Niemi asks two seemingly unrelated questions in a rising melody with guitar accompaniment, like fingers playing spider up to the nape of your neck. Gentle pressure. Strands of gluten form to bind the mix. A new question lingers in the binding. When she admits “but I don’t know how to tell if I’m feeling it or not,” that question surfaces through the text. It is reiterated throughout the album. When I’m working with dough I think the same thing to myself.

On Progress Bakery, her second album as a solo artist, Eliza knows to leave some questions alone – to let juxtaposition and tension be the proof. It doesn’t have to be hard. The feelings and revelations they provoke rise in the heat. The smell is sweet. Crispy on the outside and soft all the way through. She playfully slip-slides through words and sounds and images, delighting in surprise, skimming ideas like stones cast across clear water, touching down briefly with uncommon grace.

The question provoked between those opening lines resurfaces in the strands between songs – “Do U FM” is fully formed and beautifully layered, while “Novelist Sad Face” is a short, acapella rendering of gentle curiosity. What is holding these ideas together? Some songs demand more, seem to carry a whole load – eventually the skipping stone will halt to sink and resume its idle duty – while others drift in and out of focus, the way thoughts and dreams become interwoven before the mind is sunk into true sleep.

Music and words don’t always have to interact. Where she decides to keep them apart gives a new contour to where and how she puts them together. The kind of thing you’re supposed to take for granted with songs and their singers comes alive in Eliza’s hands – the little miracle of mixing, kneading, stretching, and stopping.

So often on Progress Bakery, Eliza teases out truth and meaning by asking questions. “Do I wanna be crying?” “Do you want me good or do you want me bad?” “Do I need an eye test?” “I’m writing songs in my head while you’re going over stuff with me — is that cruel??” In “Pocky” Eliza ends with a question that feels to me like the actual biography, succinct and revealing:

I don’t wanna be made to see
I just wanna ask “what’s that?”

Grace that ought to be rare, but in its care and precision is offered humbly, with great generosity, and without announcing itself. Eliza’s simple, miraculous music is given further form and shape by a group of collaborators – invaluable guest musicians Jeremy Ray, Evan Cartwright, Steven McPhail, Kenny Boothby, Ed Squires, Carolina Chauffe, Dorothea Paas, Louie Short, and Avalon Tassonyi. Together with Louie Short, who recorded, mixed, and produced the album along with Jeremy Ray and Lukas Cheung, Eliza has cultivated a richness in sound and texture that prods and provokes the ticklish ear. Barely audible guitar tinkering, a brief lo-fi field recording of trumpets, the harmonic clicking of a looped synthesizer, a flourish of reeds, a child’s conversation, each uncanny sound perfectly placed, rippling out under a soft breeze.

Lay in bed alone at night and ask aloud to the stillness,

“What were you doing at the Albuquerque Airport?
What were you doing there??”

And hear your question answered by a dream of swelling, undulating cellos. Try to grasp at the melody and structure. It’s not an answer (if there could be one), but it moves deeper, closer to the weird layer of fleeting moments and disconnected images, barely perceptible at its core. Wait for the dream reel to click into place.

Eliza took me for a ride in Nicole (her beloved Dodge Grand Caravan) and told me she’d been thinking of the album as an embodiment of transition – and I think every transition, known or unknown, carries the weight of new meaning, skittering off the surface tension of life as you know it, creating ripples, sometimes bouncing off and sometimes breaking through. There is a trick you can use to tell if a dough is glutinous enough. You’re supposed to stretch it out as thin as you can without breaking it and hold it up to the light. If you can see through, even if it renders the world murky and uncertain, you should leave it alone. I love this trick. It’s one that Eliza seems to know intuitively: work gently and ask questions and don’t always expect answers, and when you can, take a glimpse at something new, and then leave.

Kneading dough is tricky – you should know how it’s supposed to feel. If you try too hard you could make it worse. It’s a beautiful practice – creation with a gentle touch, to work at something so it can be left alone. “If it’s too drawn out it’s awful. It’s easy to give too much.” Dance in the mirror. Contemplate your veiny hands. Who do they remind you of?

You begin by mixing flour and water. “What happens when your people die? Why’d they move the rock to the other side of Ulster Park?” Eliza Niemi asks two seemingly unrelated questions in a rising melody with guitar accompaniment, like fingers playing spider up to the nape of your neck. Gentle pressure. Strands of gluten form to bind the mix. A new question lingers in the binding. When she admits “but I don’t know how to tell if I’m feeling it or not,” that question surfaces through the text. It is reiterated throughout the album. When I’m working with dough I think the same thing to myself.

On Progress Bakery, her second album as a solo artist, Eliza knows to leave some questions alone – to let juxtaposition and tension be the proof. It doesn’t have to be hard. The feelings and revelations they provoke rise in the heat. The smell is sweet. Crispy on the outside and soft all the way through. She playfully slip-slides through words and sounds and images, delighting in surprise, skimming ideas like stones cast across clear water, touching down briefly with uncommon grace.

The question provoked between those opening lines resurfaces in the strands between songs – “Do U FM” is fully formed and beautifully layered, while “Novelist Sad Face” is a short, acapella rendering of gentle curiosity. What is holding these ideas together? Some songs demand more, seem to carry a whole load – eventually the skipping stone will halt to sink and resume its idle duty – while others drift in and out of focus, the way thoughts and dreams become interwoven before the mind is sunk into true sleep.

Music and words don’t always have to interact. Where she decides to keep them apart gives a new contour to where and how she puts them together. The kind of thing you’re supposed to take for granted with songs and their singers comes alive in Eliza’s hands – the little miracle of mixing, kneading, stretching, and stopping.

So often on Progress Bakery, Eliza teases out truth and meaning by asking questions. “Do I wanna be crying?” “Do you want me good or do you want me bad?” “Do I need an eye test?” “I’m writing songs in my head while you’re going over stuff with me — is that cruel??” In “Pocky” Eliza ends with a question that feels to me like the actual biography, succinct and revealing:

I don’t wanna be made to see
I just wanna ask “what’s that?”

Grace that ought to be rare, but in its care and precision is offered humbly, with great generosity, and without announcing itself. Eliza’s simple, miraculous music is given further form and shape by a group of collaborators – invaluable guest musicians Jeremy Ray, Evan Cartwright, Steven McPhail, Kenny Boothby, Ed Squires, Carolina Chauffe, Dorothea Paas, Louie Short, and Avalon Tassonyi. Together with Louie Short, who recorded, mixed, and produced the album along with Jeremy Ray and Lukas Cheung, Eliza has cultivated a richness in sound and texture that prods and provokes the ticklish ear. Barely audible guitar tinkering, a brief lo-fi field recording of trumpets, the harmonic clicking of a looped synthesizer, a flourish of reeds, a child’s conversation, each uncanny sound perfectly placed, rippling out under a soft breeze.

Lay in bed alone at night and ask aloud to the stillness,

“What were you doing at the Albuquerque Airport?
What were you doing there??”

And hear your question answered by a dream of swelling, undulating cellos. Try to grasp at the melody and structure. It’s not an answer (if there could be one), but it moves deeper, closer to the weird layer of fleeting moments and disconnected images, barely perceptible at its core. Wait for the dream reel to click into place.

Eliza took me for a ride in Nicole (her beloved Dodge Grand Caravan) and told me she’d been thinking of the album as an embodiment of transition – and I think every transition, known or unknown, carries the weight of new meaning, skittering off the surface tension of life as you know it, creating ripples, sometimes bouncing off and sometimes breaking through. There is a trick you can use to tell if a dough is glutinous enough. You’re supposed to stretch it out as thin as you can without breaking it and hold it up to the light. If you can see through, even if it renders the world murky and uncertain, you should leave it alone. I love this trick. It’s one that Eliza seems to know intuitively: work gently and ask questions and don’t always expect answers, and when you can, take a glimpse at something new, and then leave.

Nach dem Erfolg von Deep Purple’s Nummer 1-Album "=1" im letzten Jahr meldet sich der legendäre Keyboarder Don Airey mit seinem neuen Soloalbum "Pushed to the Edge" zurück. Airey, der als der aktivste Musiker des Hard Rock gilt, hat auf über 300 Alben mit Künstlern wie Ozzy Osbourne, Rainbow, Whitesnake, Judas Priest, Gary Moore und Black Sabbath mitgewirkt. Unterstützt wird er von einer hochkarätigen Besetzung: Deep Purple-Gitarrist Simon McBride, Sänger Carl Sentance (Nazareth), Mitchel Emms (The Voice UK) und Bassist Dave Marks (Hans Zimmer Orchester). Ohne Tricks und Abkürzungen liefert das Album puren Hard Rock und zeigt einmal mehr, warum Don Airey zu den größten seiner Zunft gehört.

Kneading dough is tricky – you should know how it’s supposed to feel. If you try too hard you could make it worse. It’s a beautiful practice – creation with a gentle touch, to work at something so it can be left alone. “If it’s too drawn out it’s awful. It’s easy to give too much.” Dance in the mirror. Contemplate your veiny hands. Who do they remind you of?

You begin by mixing flour and water. “What happens when your people die? Why’d they move the rock to the other side of Ulster Park?” Eliza Niemi asks two seemingly unrelated questions in a rising melody with guitar accompaniment, like fingers playing spider up to the nape of your neck. Gentle pressure. Strands of gluten form to bind the mix. A new question lingers in the binding. When she admits “but I don’t know how to tell if I’m feeling it or not,” that question surfaces through the text. It is reiterated throughout the album. When I’m working with dough I think the same thing to myself.

On Progress Bakery, her second album as a solo artist, Eliza knows to leave some questions alone – to let juxtaposition and tension be the proof. It doesn’t have to be hard. The feelings and revelations they provoke rise in the heat. The smell is sweet. Crispy on the outside and soft all the way through. She playfully slip-slides through words and sounds and images, delighting in surprise, skimming ideas like stones cast across clear water, touching down briefly with uncommon grace.

The question provoked between those opening lines resurfaces in the strands between songs – “Do U FM” is fully formed and beautifully layered, while “Novelist Sad Face” is a short, acapella rendering of gentle curiosity. What is holding these ideas together? Some songs demand more, seem to carry a whole load – eventually the skipping stone will halt to sink and resume its idle duty – while others drift in and out of focus, the way thoughts and dreams become interwoven before the mind is sunk into true sleep.

Music and words don’t always have to interact. Where she decides to keep them apart gives a new contour to where and how she puts them together. The kind of thing you’re supposed to take for granted with songs and their singers comes alive in Eliza’s hands – the little miracle of mixing, kneading, stretching, and stopping.

So often on Progress Bakery, Eliza teases out truth and meaning by asking questions. “Do I wanna be crying?” “Do you want me good or do you want me bad?” “Do I need an eye test?” “I’m writing songs in my head while you’re going over stuff with me — is that cruel??” In “Pocky” Eliza ends with a question that feels to me like the actual biography, succinct and revealing:

I don’t wanna be made to see
I just wanna ask “what’s that?”

Grace that ought to be rare, but in its care and precision is offered humbly, with great generosity, and without announcing itself. Eliza’s simple, miraculous music is given further form and shape by a group of collaborators – invaluable guest musicians Jeremy Ray, Evan Cartwright, Steven McPhail, Kenny Boothby, Ed Squires, Carolina Chauffe, Dorothea Paas, Louie Short, and Avalon Tassonyi. Together with Louie Short, who recorded, mixed, and produced the album along with Jeremy Ray and Lukas Cheung, Eliza has cultivated a richness in sound and texture that prods and provokes the ticklish ear. Barely audible guitar tinkering, a brief lo-fi field recording of trumpets, the harmonic clicking of a looped synthesizer, a flourish of reeds, a child’s conversation, each uncanny sound perfectly placed, rippling out under a soft breeze.

Lay in bed alone at night and ask aloud to the stillness,

“What were you doing at the Albuquerque Airport?
What were you doing there??”

And hear your question answered by a dream of swelling, undulating cellos. Try to grasp at the melody and structure. It’s not an answer (if there could be one), but it moves deeper, closer to the weird layer of fleeting moments and disconnected images, barely perceptible at its core. Wait for the dream reel to click into place.

Eliza took me for a ride in Nicole (her beloved Dodge Grand Caravan) and told me she’d been thinking of the album as an embodiment of transition – and I think every transition, known or unknown, carries the weight of new meaning, skittering off the surface tension of life as you know it, creating ripples, sometimes bouncing off and sometimes breaking through. There is a trick you can use to tell if a dough is glutinous enough. You’re supposed to stretch it out as thin as you can without breaking it and hold it up to the light. If you can see through, even if it renders the world murky and uncertain, you should leave it alone. I love this trick. It’s one that Eliza seems to know intuitively: work gently and ask questions and don’t always expect answers, and when you can, take a glimpse at something new, and then leave.

The Tubs' second album, Cotton Crown, sees the Celtic Jangle boyband venture into darker, more personal territor y while continuing to hone their highly addictive brand of songcraft. It 's a true level up album which sees the band expand their sonic palette to take in a kaleidoscopic range of influences: everything from soulful pub rock (Chain Reaction) to Husker Du aggression (One More Day) to melancholy sophisto-pop (Narcissist) gets a look in. As Pitchfork noted, The Tubs see jangle as a `vast world of moods and muses' and Cotton Crown sees them continuing to explore this world and creating a distinctly Tub-ular sound in the process. This is in no small part down to Owen `O' Williams' vocal performance- often compared to a young Richard Thomson- and his frank, bleakly funny lyric writing. Cotton Crown sees him delve further into his favourite themes of love-psychosis, unsympathetic mentally ill behaviour, and the humiliations of being a musician in London. This time around, however, there's a palpable sense of risk in his self assessments/confessions. No more so in the track's closing track Strange- an accounting of the clumsy, intrusive, well-meaning social interactions that took place in the period following the suicide of his mother (the folk singer Charlotte Greig.) As Williams says: "I'd tried a few times to write a song about it. The result had always seemed either mawkish, simplifying or like I was hawking my trauma. But then this one came out, and it felt right because it looked at something smaller: the weird, unsatisfying, strangely funny ways everyone, including myself, acted after the dust settled." The album artwork features an image of Williams as an infant being breastfed by Greig in a graveyard- a promotional shot taken around the release of her debut album (the re-issue of which was featured in The Guardian in 2023.) The essential trick Cotton Crown plays is to offset Williams' lyrical bleakness with joyous, hook-laden blasts of pop perfection. This is largely down to the guitar work of George Nicholls, who, across the album, effortlessly slips between the virtuoso jangle of Marr, the driving folk-rock of Pentangle and the chorus-heavy hi-fi grooves of contemporary bands like Tops or The 1975. Add to that the breakneck rhythm section of Taylor Stewart (Drums) and Max Warren (Bass)- who attack each song with power-pop ferocity, recalling Guided by Voices at their drunken-yet-tight best- and you've got yourself a recipe for indie rock greatness. The band's debut `Dead Meat' was a word-of-mouth sensation that saw the band earn accolades from Pitchfork, The Guardian, MOJO, SPIN and more. They even gained some celeb fans: the inimitable Mark Proksch (The Office (US), Better Call Saul, What We Do in the Shadows) starred in the video for their "Round the Bend" single & punk legend Iggy Pop has praised them on his BBC 6Music radio program. Standing in opposition to the UK norm of post punk, and hookless high-minded indie prog, the album was described by Kitty Empire (Observer) as a "shot in the arm for indie rock". The band's hard touring and raucous, beer y live show have seen them stand out at festivals like Greenman, End of The Road, Melbourne Rising and Canela Party. The band (minus Stewart) were previously members of Joanna Gruesome- who won the Welsh Music Prize, toured the UK and US extensively, and were praised in Pitchfork, Rolling Stone, The NY Times, The Guardian and others. Lan Mcardle (Joanna Gruesome, Ex-Void) also provides backing vocals on several tracks. The Tubs are part of the Gob Nation collective- the London-based network of bands, writers and promoters who were recently profiled in The Guardian.

The Tubs' second album, Cotton Crown, sees the Celtic Jangle boyband venture into darker, more personal territor y while continuing to hone their highly addictive brand of songcraft. It 's a true level up album which sees the band expand their sonic palette to take in a kaleidoscopic range of influences: everything from soulful pub rock (Chain Reaction) to Husker Du aggression (One More Day) to melancholy sophisto-pop (Narcissist) gets a look in. As Pitchfork noted, The Tubs see jangle as a `vast world of moods and muses' and Cotton Crown sees them continuing to explore this world and creating a distinctly Tub-ular sound in the process. This is in no small part down to Owen `O' Williams' vocal performance- often compared to a young Richard Thomson- and his frank, bleakly funny lyric writing. Cotton Crown sees him delve further into his favourite themes of love-psychosis, unsympathetic mentally ill behaviour, and the humiliations of being a musician in London. This time around, however, there's a palpable sense of risk in his self assessments/confessions. No more so in the track's closing track Strange- an accounting of the clumsy, intrusive, well-meaning social interactions that took place in the period following the suicide of his mother (the folk singer Charlotte Greig.) As Williams says: "I'd tried a few times to write a song about it. The result had always seemed either mawkish, simplifying or like I was hawking my trauma. But then this one came out, and it felt right because it looked at something smaller: the weird, unsatisfying, strangely funny ways everyone, including myself, acted after the dust settled." The album artwork features an image of Williams as an infant being breastfed by Greig in a graveyard- a promotional shot taken around the release of her debut album (the re-issue of which was featured in The Guardian in 2023.) The essential trick Cotton Crown plays is to offset Williams' lyrical bleakness with joyous, hook-laden blasts of pop perfection. This is largely down to the guitar work of George Nicholls, who, across the album, effortlessly slips between the virtuoso jangle of Marr, the driving folk-rock of Pentangle and the chorus-heavy hi-fi grooves of contemporary bands like Tops or The 1975. Add to that the breakneck rhythm section of Taylor Stewart (Drums) and Max Warren (Bass)- who attack each song with power-pop ferocity, recalling Guided by Voices at their drunken-yet-tight best- and you've got yourself a recipe for indie rock greatness. The band's debut `Dead Meat' was a word-of-mouth sensation that saw the band earn accolades from Pitchfork, The Guardian, MOJO, SPIN and more. They even gained some celeb fans: the inimitable Mark Proksch (The Office (US), Better Call Saul, What We Do in the Shadows) starred in the video for their "Round the Bend" single & punk legend Iggy Pop has praised them on his BBC 6Music radio program. Standing in opposition to the UK norm of post punk, and hookless high-minded indie prog, the album was described by Kitty Empire (Observer) as a "shot in the arm for indie rock". The band's hard touring and raucous, beer y live show have seen them stand out at festivals like Greenman, End of The Road, Melbourne Rising and Canela Party. The band (minus Stewart) were previously members of Joanna Gruesome- who won the Welsh Music Prize, toured the UK and US extensively, and were praised in Pitchfork, Rolling Stone, The NY Times, The Guardian and others. Lan Mcardle (Joanna Gruesome, Ex-Void) also provides backing vocals on several tracks. The Tubs are part of the Gob Nation collective- the London-based network of bands, writers and promoters who were recently profiled in The Guardian.

The Tubs' second album, Cotton Crown, sees the Celtic Jangle boyband venture into darker, more personal territor y while continuing to hone their highly addictive brand of songcraft. It 's a true level up album which sees the band expand their sonic palette to take in a kaleidoscopic range of influences: everything from soulful pub rock (Chain Reaction) to Husker Du aggression (One More Day) to melancholy sophisto-pop (Narcissist) gets a look in. As Pitchfork noted, The Tubs see jangle as a `vast world of moods and muses' and Cotton Crown sees them continuing to explore this world and creating a distinctly Tub-ular sound in the process. This is in no small part down to Owen `O' Williams' vocal performance- often compared to a young Richard Thomson- and his frank, bleakly funny lyric writing. Cotton Crown sees him delve further into his favourite themes of love-psychosis, unsympathetic mentally ill behaviour, and the humiliations of being a musician in London. This time around, however, there's a palpable sense of risk in his self assessments/confessions. No more so in the track's closing track Strange- an accounting of the clumsy, intrusive, well-meaning social interactions that took place in the period following the suicide of his mother (the folk singer Charlotte Greig.) As Williams says: "I'd tried a few times to write a song about it. The result had always seemed either mawkish, simplifying or like I was hawking my trauma. But then this one came out, and it felt right because it looked at something smaller: the weird, unsatisfying, strangely funny ways everyone, including myself, acted after the dust settled." The album artwork features an image of Williams as an infant being breastfed by Greig in a graveyard- a promotional shot taken around the release of her debut album (the re-issue of which was featured in The Guardian in 2023.) The essential trick Cotton Crown plays is to offset Williams' lyrical bleakness with joyous, hook-laden blasts of pop perfection. This is largely down to the guitar work of George Nicholls, who, across the album, effortlessly slips between the virtuoso jangle of Marr, the driving folk-rock of Pentangle and the chorus-heavy hi-fi grooves of contemporary bands like Tops or The 1975. Add to that the breakneck rhythm section of Taylor Stewart (Drums) and Max Warren (Bass)- who attack each song with power-pop ferocity, recalling Guided by Voices at their drunken-yet-tight best- and you've got yourself a recipe for indie rock greatness. The band's debut `Dead Meat' was a word-of-mouth sensation that saw the band earn accolades from Pitchfork, The Guardian, MOJO, SPIN and more. They even gained some celeb fans: the inimitable Mark Proksch (The Office (US), Better Call Saul, What We Do in the Shadows) starred in the video for their "Round the Bend" single & punk legend Iggy Pop has praised them on his BBC 6Music radio program. Standing in opposition to the UK norm of post punk, and hookless high-minded indie prog, the album was described by Kitty Empire (Observer) as a "shot in the arm for indie rock". The band's hard touring and raucous, beer y live show have seen them stand out at festivals like Greenman, End of The Road, Melbourne Rising and Canela Party. The band (minus Stewart) were previously members of Joanna Gruesome- who won the Welsh Music Prize, toured the UK and US extensively, and were praised in Pitchfork, Rolling Stone, The NY Times, The Guardian and others. Lan Mcardle (Joanna Gruesome, Ex-Void) also provides backing vocals on several tracks. The Tubs are part of the Gob Nation collective- the London-based network of bands, writers and promoters who were recently profiled in The Guardian.

It’s written in the Agreement Terms. There’s no getting out alive in Life. And yet, mankind keeps striving for eternal life; through art, through power, through cryogenics, through singularity. In that misguided quest against the inevitable, we all fall into the category of lost travellers. No one is exempt. In that understanding, Confucius MC and producer Bastien Keb offer no misgivings about the destination on the somber “Time Will Come”: Time will come for all of us / try to take your time.

Songs For Lost Travellers is a collaborative album by Con and Bastien Keb that merges unexplored pathways between rap, folk, and jazz into a spiritual triumvirate. Each genre is a balancing force within the record. The result is an album unlike either artist have made previously, possibly unlike any record in existence. Songs For Lost Travellers opens with bedtime stories and fairytales. Both “Tell Me Lies” and “Fairytale” present the creature comforts that trick us into forgetting the truth. Con’s first words spoken are “tell me lies ‘til I swear I can’t remember” over Keb’s lo-fi plucking that feels like it was lifted from a handheld recorder capturing a nursery mobile above a crib. Third track “Time Will Come” resets the album after acknowledging on “Fairytale” there’s “no nourishment in half-truths / no sustenance in eating lies.”

Honest and direct, Con and Keb imbue Songs For Lost Travellers with knowledge and truth from their lived experiences. There is grief hidden in the notes, an inherent sadness that is balanced with an awareness that grief is a protest against the social machinery of remaining numb. The record lingers in a meditative state, unafraid of restlessness and embracing solitude, with the expectation that peace is just as imminent as death.

The production contains a complimentary authenticity. Neither Con nor Keb bothered much with the professional studio in making Songs For Lost Travellers. Instead they opted for the raw state of their home recordings and first takes, matching the intimacy of being alone and reflective in their creative energies. Room static on “Tell Me Lies” makes it feel like you’ve entered their apartments. The immediacy continues on “Gutters,” as Keb plays guitar while watching the tele and Con hums along to the vocal melody in search of the proper pocket for his verse. Someone snaps their finger to mark a cue, but the snap never returns to the mix to keep time.

More drawn to Keb’s recent folk recordings on the Songs For Lilla EP than his funk roots circa Dinking In The Shadows of Zizou or the cinematic soul of The Killing of Eugene Peeps, Con leaned into the spacial freedom he heard in Keb’s lo-fi production cobbled from field recordings and voice notes. Both artists placed their families into the tableau. Con wrote “Little Man” for his son, hoping to add a positive contribution to the canon of parental rap songs. Later, his son appears at the end of “Paramount” to deliver a passage from Kahlil Gibran’s The Prophet. Keb secretly recorded his mum playing saxophone and sampled his cousin playing sax as well. The result is a near-drumless album (save for “Toulouse” and light tapping on “It Would Speak”) in which Keb’s raw production (plus a few sessions with Kofi Flexxx) gave Con a liminal zone, unencumbered by beats per minute, to craft melodies that turn his philosophical rhymes into mantras.

Perhaps there’s a message in the presence of family? It would be one of many. Con and Keb’s reflective, somber approach to Songs For Lost Travellers does not wallow in the mire. Music is action and it’s taking them through a portal to the other side of grief. We are welcome to join (which is also in the fine print of the Agreement Terms), but first there’s a password in the final song, a single request to answer: Tell me what you care about.

Biography by Blake Gillespie
credits

Uomo Meccanico also known as Nicola Altieri is a producer from Naples.He dropped this ep on IIB and we were blown away. Odyssey is a heads down smoke machine trip. Arpy baseline and a proper old style sample . Can't wait to hear on a big system. Strange Interferences is a straight up acid sleazebomb, squelching like a wet flip flop and again perfect sample technique. HOUSE! It's All Magic No Tricks drops the tempo and a syrupy sample.over Basement style bass and melodies, Strangely familiar but alien. La Guardia De La Luz (who we are big fans of here at IIB) take us on a slow drive through the desert, San Pedro dream style, slo mo brooding and massively balearic. A real gem to finish off one of our favourite ever releases

The long-awaited new full-length from legendary electronic pioneers THE ORB with cover design from iconic graphic wizards THE DESIGNERS REPUBLIC • A fascinating sonic journey over four epic tracks, constantly switching between psychedelic flourishes and beat-driven focus

Veritable pioneers of electronic music, iconic act THE ORB returns to Kompakt with the new full-length MOONBUILDING 2703 AD - another major slice of psychedelic synth bliss, obscure loops and deep ambient textures tossed in swinging breakbeats and powerful basslines. Installing a forward momentum rather unusual for a genre-defying project like this, the latest effort from masterminds Alex Paterson and Thomas Fehlmann follows their 2005 album success on Kompakt, the cheekily named "Okie Dokie It's The Orb On Kompakt" (KOMPAKT CD 45), as well as several contributions to our Speicher and Pop Ambient series - but more importantly, it finds the legendary duo at the peak of its creativity, ringing in another essential phase in what can only be called a ground-breaking career.

True to form, the new offering MOONBUILDING 2703 AD features a small track list, but turns each one of its four cuts into a mini epic in its own right. Opener GOD'S MIRRORBALL hits the ground floating, employing a handful of cozy statics to great effect before finally discharging into an intricate mosaic of atmospheric melodic sketches and gripping rhythms. With a hypnotic runtime of more than 14 minutes, it immediately establishes a blueprint for the other album tracks to follow, perfectly illustrating the vast extent of the artists' vision and their impressive skills in luring in listeners - welcome to THE ORB's sonic labyrinth, where nothing is what it seems and the unexpected waits just around the corner.

Likewise, follow-up track MOONSCAPES 2703 BC presents itself as a uniquely versatile affair sitting comfortably between ambient flourishes and beat-driven focus, holding as many twists and turns as a caper movie, but carefully grounding every single one of its cliffhangers in its impeccable flow. With a runtime of approximately 9 minutes, LUNAR CAVES is the shortest jam of the bunch - and also the most ethereal, keeping its rhythmic content to a bare, pulse-like minimum and opting for enticing, freewheeling synth textures instead. Album closer and title cut MOONBUILDING 2703 AD introduces a surprisingly jazzy vibe mingling rather well with the wealth of electronic tricks up its sleeve - even indulging in abrasive bass sweeps and a breathtaking multitude of different rhythm sections constantly switching places. It's a fitting closing act for a full-length as multifaceted as this, as idiosyncratic as possible and as muscling as needed.


• Das langerwartete neue Album der legendären Elektronikpioniere THE ORB mit einem Coverdesign der gefeierten Graphikschmiede THE DESIGNERS REBUBLIC • Eine faszinierende Klangreise über vier epische Tracks hinweg, permanent zwischen psychedelischen Schlüsselreizen und beatgetriebenem Fokus changierend

Mit THE ORB kehren echte Pioniere der elektronischen Musik zu Kompakt zurück - der Langspieler MOONBUILDING 2703 AD präsentiert erneut einen grossen Wurf in Richtung psychedelischen Synthie-Segens, obskurer Loops und porentiefer Ambient-Texturen, geschwenkt in schwungvollen Breakbeats und wirkmächtigen Basslines. Mit einem für genresprengende Projekte wie diesem hier eher unüblichen Vorwärtsdrang beerbt das neue Album von den Großmeistern Alex Paterson und Thomas Fehlmann ihren 2005er Erfolg auf Kompakt, das augenzwinkernd benannte "Okie Dokie It's The Orb On Kompakt" (KOMPAKT CD 45), sowie einige Beiträge zu unseren Speicher- und Pop-Ambient-Serien - viel wichtiger allerdings, daß wir das legendäre Duo auf der Höhe ihrer Schaffenskraft antreffen, eine neue wesentliche Phase einläutend in einer Laufbahn, die nur als bahnbrechend bezeichnet werden kann.

In bekannter Manier hat das neue Werk MOONBUILDING 2703 AD eine eher kleine Tracklist vorzuweisen, baut dafür aber jeden seiner vier Tracks zu Mini-Epen von eigenem Recht um. Der Eröffnungsakt GOD'S MIRRORBALL schwebt einem da vor Ohren, zuerst nur mit einer Handvoll gemütlichen Rauschens bewaffnet, später dann in ein feingliedriges Mosaik von atmosphärischen Melodieskizzen und mitreissenden Rhythmen explodierend. Mit einer hypnotisierenden Lauflänge von über 14 Minuten etabliert das Stück die Blaupause für die folgenden Ereignisse, perfekt die enorme Reichweite der künstlerischen Vision und ihre Fähigkeit zur massenhaften Verführung nichtsahnender Tänzer illustrierend - willkommen in THE ORB's Klanglabyrinth, wo nichts ist wie es scheint und das Unerwartete um jede Ecke lauert.

Ähnlich präsentiert sich der Folgetrack MOONSCAPES 2703 BC als einzigartig vielseitige Angelegenheit, bequem zwischen ambienten Ornamenten und beatgetriebenem Fokus sitzend und mit sovielen Drehungen und Wendungen wie ein Gaunerfilm - doch stets seine Cliffhanger im makellosen Flow erdend. Ein wenig über 9 Minuten lang, ist LUNAR CAVES der kürzeste Entwurf in der Gruppe - und auch der ätherischste, hält er doch die Rhythmusanteile auf einem puls-ähnlichem Minimum und optiert stattdessen für freilaufende Synthie-Texturen. Das letzte Kapitel des Albums schließlich ist auch der Titeltrack: MOONBUILDING 2703 AD besitzt eine überraschend jazzige Note, die sich ziemlich gut in den Reichtum an elektronischen Tricks einfügt, welche hier aus dem Ärmel geschüttelt werden - sogar in rauem Bass schwelgend und eine atemberaubende Vielfalt an Rhythmussektionen aufrufend, die ständig die Plätze tauschen. Es ist ein passender Abschluss für ein derart facettenreiches Album, so idiosynkratisch wie möglich und so anschiebend wie nötig.

Balli - Marraffa - Balli - Marraffa - Balli... is the new code to tune in to the 8 bit-jazz revolution, dial it on every device you might have to start its ringtone made of sax solos counterpointed by Game-Boy melodies. Once inside the Balli - Marraffa - Balli TRIO the trick wil be to identify the many videogames soundtracks hidden in this free-chiptune ep between the wildest reeds butchery and the Game-Boy gabba. Of course 'Super Mario Supreme', 'Grand Theft Auto Jazz Club', 'A kind of Arashi' and more to be detected inside "8 bit-Jazz Furlough" 10" vinyl digital.

Die schwedischen Heavy Rocker GREENLEAF haben mit ihrem neunten Album "The Head & The Habit" den vorläufigen Gipfel ihrer langen Evolution erklommen. Die musikalische Handschrift und Virtuosität von Gitarrist Tommi Holappa, seit mehr als 25 Jahren einer der Vorreiter und tragenden Säulen der europäischen Stoner Rock Szene, zeichnen sich deutlich ab. Die Gitarren werden perfekt ergänzt durch den gefühlvollen, intuitiven Sinn für Melodien und die charakterliche Tiefe, die der klassisch ausgebildete Sänger Arvid Hällagård dem Sound von GREENLEAF verleiht. Neben den erstklassigen Gesangslinien sowie den massiven Fuzz-Power-Riffs hat sich der Frontmann intensive Gedanken zu seinen Texten für "The Head & The Habit" gemacht, die weit über den Standard des oft klischeebeladenen Genres hinausreichen. Wie bereits der Albumtitel ("Der Kopf & Die Gewohnheit") andeutet, sind die neuen Songs als symbolische Kurzgeschichten angelegt, die sich um das Ringen mit Gefühlen bis zu psychischen Erkrankungen drehen. In Hällagårds Lyrik spiegeln sich seine Erfahrungen aus der Arbeit mit Menschen wider, die mit Sucht und anderen psychischen Problemen zu kämpfen haben. Die Heavy Rock Liebhaber GREENLEAF wurden ursprünglich als informelles Privatprojekt unter Freunden gegründet. Alle spielten bereits in anderen Bands, worunter sich so klangvolle Namen wie DOZER, LOWRIDER und DEMON CLEANER finden. Die Schweden suchten einfach nur nach einem Ventil für ihre gemeinsame Liebe zum Hard Rock und Proto-Metal der 70er Jahre, das frei von den Erwartungen und dem Druck ihrer Hauptbands sein sollte. Trotz der Absicht, GREENLEAF nur zum Vergnügen zu betreiben, führte die ungetrübte Freude beim Erschaffen eingängiger Songs dazu, dass ihr gesamtes Umfeld nach Aufnahmen von diesem Material verlangte. Dies führte schließlich zur Veröffentlichung einer selbstbetitelten Debüt-EP im Jahr 2000, der nur ein Jahr später das erste vollständige Album "Revolution Rock" folgte. Die Jahre mit wechselnden Besetzungen waren vorbei. GREENLEAFs stabiler Fokus wurde durch ihr fünftes Album "Trails & Passes" (2014) gekrönt, auf dem erstmals Arvid Hällagård als Sänger zu hören war. Dieser Meilenstein markierte den endgültigen Beginn einer neuen Phase der Band. Mit "The Head & The Habit" verbinden GREENLEAF nun das Bewusstsein für vergangene Triumphe mit reifem Handwerk. Die Schweden wissen, wie sie mehr als je zuvor stärker, härter und auf den Punkt rocken. GREENLEAF verschmelzen donnernde Riff-Magie, mitreißenden und mit Soul getränkten Gesang, frenetische Rhythmen und treibende Takt-Attacken zu einer ohrwurmverdächtigen, funkelnden Legierung von Hardrock-Hymnen!

For vinyl enthusiasts and music lovers alike, this 7" release is an inspired pairing that bridges generations and genres. The A-side delivers the Geto Boys' defining moment, “Mind Playing Tricks on Me” is a haunting, confessional journey through paranoia, struggles, and urban realities. The melancholic guitar sample from Isaac Hayes' "Hung Up On My Baby" provides the foundation of the track and can be conveniently found on the B-Side

The Gentle Spring are a new group, formed by Michael Hiscock, Emilie Guillaumot and Jérémie Orsel. Michael has an illustrious pop history, having been a founder member of The Field Mice, possibly the most beloved band on Sarah Records in the 1990s. And with The Gentle Spring, it seems that history is repeating itself…

When Michael and his friend Bobby Wratten formed The Field Mice, the two of them very quickly created a set of songs whose emotional honesty, raw guitars and perfect pop melodies pierced the hearts of a generation of indiepop fans, kids who were unmoved by the posturing of mainstream indie, and who didn’t want to spend time in fields dancing at 24-hour raves. The Field Mice were the band who defined the meaning and the spirit of Sarah Records. Defiantly in love with pop, defiantly un-macho, defiantly…sensitive. And now, remarkably, Michael has done it again. With his new musical partner Emilie, The Gentle Spring have created a fresh new iteration of indiepop music. Once again, the songs are unafraid of raw emotions, brutally honest and is still in love with big pop melodies.

They are still….sensitive. But life is seen through a different lens now. There is wisdom, there is experience, and there is the ability to look back at the world with a mixture of regret and joy. These are very adult songs, and the arrangements reflect this. Rich acoustic guitars and Emilie’s haunting keyboard have replaced hectic drum machines and urgent distortion. And there is a third element to this music. Jérémie Orsel’s sophisticated guitar adds textures and melodies that give these songs a real depth, while maintaining an enigmatic distance, never quite overwhelming the vocal line. So things are clearer now.

But feelings are just as strong. The pain of unrequited love that made Field Mice songs so poignant hasn’t gone away. In some ways, the thought of roads not taken is more profound when experienced in retrospect. I Can’t Have You As A Friend entertains this notion, still moved by the allure of a different life, but shuddering with fear at what might have happened. Also still haunted by the past, The Girl Who Ran Away conjures up the ghost of a previous failed relationship, which threatens to undermine happiness in the present. In Severed Hearts, sung by Emilie, there is the stark recognition that some endings really are final: sometimes there can be no reconciliations. But the song cleverly moves on from this: it acknowledges that, even after the worst emotional loss, you have to pick yourself, you will move on. It’s sophisticated and it’s mature – but it will still break your heart. Sugartown is another song that plays this trick on you. It insists that there will always be lightness and shade. It warns you against complacency, but does it so kindly that you feel like you’ve been embraced. When Michael’s and Emilie’s vocals combine in the final chorus, telling us that we don’t live in Sugartown, you know they are right – and yet the sweetness of the singing makes you feel that – just for a moment – you do.the band perform as a trio and have already found a keen audience in France, where they are based. During a short tour of the UK in January, to coincide with this release, British audiences will get their first opportunities to see The Gentle Spring play these new songs live

This is a massively awaited repress from the Hectic back catalogue. Ramos & Vinylgroover team up for the first time in this absolute classic from 1994. The A side, Phantasm, is a subliminal slice of that era showing pretty much every sound and trick in their arsenal. Then the flip is a proper slice of darkness in The Beast. No piano or cheery vocal here, just an eerie melody with melancholy samples to keep even the darkest of hardcore raver happy. An absolutely massive EP that is a must for any collector.

Club / DJ Support
Jay Cunning, Billy Bunter, the Fat Controller, Liquid, Hyper On Experience, Glowkid, Slipmatt, Dj Jedi, Dj Luna-C, Dj Brisk, Paul Bradley, Jimni Cricket, Bustin, Jimmy J, Doughboy, Lowercase, Dave Skywalker, Ponder and many others

RIYL: Portishead, Thom Yorke, BEAK>, SUUNS, TR/ST, Radiohead. Solo project of Robert Toher who was the creator of ERAAS. Covered by Quietus,Pitchfork, NME, Stereogum, Earmilk, The 405, Clash, BBC Radio, Clash and more.... Public Memory is a mixture of damaged and dubbed-out percussion, unfurling synths and sparse sampling - all strung together by producer Robert Toher's spectral tenor. The project's sophomore LP, Demolition follows 2017's Veil of Counsel EP and 2016's Wuthering Drum LP with cinematic fortitude. While Public Memory's prominent krautrock and trip-hop rhythms are represented here, Demolition explores a greater range of tempos and an expanse of alien emotions with layers of electronic drums, live drums, Korg synths and samples from nature. Themes of rebirth and reflection imbue the album's atmosphere, rich in tape delay, spring reverb, and textures that conjure a sci fi and supernatural narrative. Opener "The Line" sets the album in motion with a driving energy and introspective unease, as if estranged from the world it was created in. A meditation on impending collapse, "Red Rainbow" begins with an arpeggiated melody that hints at a sense of dread. Like the darkness of night descends, the track unfolds with haunting atmospherics and howling synths, finishing with an unexpected climax that ominously builds until at last it falls apart, quickly, softly, without incident. The slowtempoed "Aegis" reflects on the banal reality of love lost, with shuffling rhythms, lingering inflections and a growling synth at its core. Toher's adept use of space and tension articulates the world of Demolition as eerie, emotive, and above all, narcotic. Each track is an existential procession. "Turning out the lights on your illusion," Toher sings to close the album, accepting that change is an inescapable condition of being.

As Odysee celebrates its 30th anniversary, the label’s original founder Atila Kemal (T-Mirage) steps up to deliver this jaw-dropping E.P.

In 1994, Tilla was just 17 years old, and an integral part of the original St Albans collective that comprised Jim Baker & Phil Aslett (Source Direct) and Rupert Parkes (Photek), when he set up the Odysee imprint and released the first Source Direct record (Future London/Shimmer). With a follow-up release from Photek (Phaze 1/Try A Style) and a second from Source Direct, the profile of the label began to grow exponentially.

It was the 3 Mirage releases however that really put the label on the map. These tracks were engineered by Jim Baker but heavily co-produced by Tilla himself with a major focus on his keen ear for dark 70’s Noire samples and eerie abstract electronica pitted against soulful R&B vocals. In hindsight, the impact of this rather different soundscape on the Source Direct material that followed is unmistakable.

The A side track Dark Rhodes is a showcase of T-Mirage’s production skillsets. From the opening atmosphere of utter menace and spacious percussion, to the trademark call and response between the different breaks and speaker shaking subs; this track will take the listener straight back to that infamous dark 1995/6 sound that emerged from both the Odysee & Source Direct studios. What is particularly noticeable is the distinctive pairing of sets of samples to form unique sections within the piece, whilst maintaining the consistent rolling energy of the drums & bass. This was a clear stylistic trait the earlier tracks like Feel My Dreams, and is very much on display in Dark Rhodes; leaving us in no doubt that we are listening to the work of one of the OG St Albans Jungle masters!

One of the most important aspects of each Odysee release was to demonstrate versatility on the B side tunes. As a label that was an important part of the mid 90’s Atmospheric scene, it would be remiss not to revisit that style on this seminal E.P. The first of the two B-side tracks is the incredible Existence.

Everything about this piece is a pure distillation of Tilla’s musical style; from the intricacy of the break work and the depth of the subs, to the masterful dovetailing of the 70’s Noire and Jazz samples that build a cohesive arrangement drawing the listener deeper into the tune’s narrative- “A piece of music that’s just a pure expression.... A celebration of existence!” There is no need to re-invent the wheel, or to force groundbreaking new tricks when the strength of this classic sound is so overwhelmingly persuasive!

With the final track Flawless, Tilla delivers an absolute heart-breaker of a tune that rivals the very best of the original Odysee & SD B-sides. Misty-eyed pads and Jazzy rides launch the crisp rolling Think breaks. The deep melodic sub line and haunting guitar riffs draw the listener in, then hold the listener in suspense for a moment before dropping down in the body of the track. The gorgeous guitar motifs are paired with achingly gorgeous vocal ad-libs and avant-garde electronica, emerging orchestral flutters with that unmistakable 70’s Noire flavour. Once again it is

Tilla’s ear for those ‘special sounds’ that really sets this track apart, and as if that wasn’t enough, some 4 minutes down the track Flawless nonchalantly unveils another primary motif; well worthy in of itself of being the tracks centrepiece!
Absolutely stunning heritage-style Atmospheric Jungle at its finest!

Fedka makes his Don’t debut but has been very much part of the family going back nearly 20 years.

The vinyl on this one is ultra limited, just 100 copies so be quick !

It’s his ideas and musical pedigree that make his music stand out and sound like no one else on earth. Never taking the easy route and injecting each production with his own wry humour. The beats ooze funk and the Melodies are always catchy with production that’s full of edits and tricks. An antidote.

This EP has all the Fedka hallmarks; Eccentric riffs and huge basslines colliding with epic 3D chords that skid around on playfully sleazy beats, all inside a Techno framework that references the classic era of ‘wonky’ Techno whilst bringing it right up to date and into the future.

Mastered by fellow Pest band member, Ben Pest.

Support coming already from Luke’s Anger, Carl Craig, Ben Pest, Jerome Hill. LWS, Jaye Ward, Kreggo, Paco Osuna, Red Rackem and Richie Hawtin.

The making of a maiden album can be a capricious process. One moment of outright musical flow paired with another period of sustained creative struggle are feats experienced by seasoned producers the world over. So when Miraclis was forced to hole away in his makeshift studio - in the midst of a global pandemic - the stage was set for something magical. Now it will see the light of day for the very first time.

Having released two singles on Secret Teachings to critical acclaim already this year, Chilean talent Miraclis will accomplish a milestone achievement in July with the release of his debut album: Origin Of Truth.

Difficult experiences were fundamental to the creation of such work, as were Miraclis’ inherent musical interests. He explains: “Origin Of Truth had its birth during the pandemic. I created it as a way of communicating to myself the sensations and feelings that were spinning around my head at the time. I've always been inspired by Bristol trip hop, as well as classical rock, and these genres definitely contributed to the making of these melancholic tracks. In a way I wanted to fuse all the musical influences that were part of my childhood, up until this point now, so this album really means a lot to me. It was my way of communicating, when there was a lack of social contact and communication itself was hard to come by.”

It's this meditative quality that initially drew Damian Lazarus to the project. “It’s a record that has its roots in electronic music, but it’s a very alternative, very deep, melancholic album. I find it both soothing and stirring at the same time, and that’s a quite interesting juxtaposition in that it feels edgy but delicious at the same time,” says Lazarus. “The fact that this was written in this place surrounded by the most incredible desert landscapes makes this a very important piece of work to me. It doesn’t sit in any particular genre, which is why it feels right for a Secret Teachings release. It hints at so many genres that I as a DJ am quite into, and it feels like a first as it’s unique and unclassifiable. That mystical, esoteric, edgy feel makes this a perfect release for the label.”

Sonnet opens proceedings, with ghostly vocals residing next to raw instrumental elements throughout. Miraclis’ signature guitar riffs soon converge on saddened keys, paving the way for Scienter. It takes the form of an instrument-based, electronic-inspired cut, building slowly before reaching a crescendo midway through via an enrapturing acoustic solo.

Floating Child comes next, brimming with a darker intensity courtesy of broody synth pulses and rhythmic hi-hats, as Shiver arrives next. There’s a rock-leaning sensibility to the piece that gives way to earnest lyrical offerings, opening swiftly into the breakbeat-esque world of Perceptions. Hard-hitting drums act as the focal point, with electric chords adding depth and intrigue, whilst Bright continues in a similarly heartfelt vein.

Introspective pads leave us feeling pensive, ahead of Interstellar taking us on a celestial journey through warped bass tones. Acting as the LP’s penultimate number, it’s a four-and-a-half minute showcase of guitar-based musical goodness and one that perfectly sets the stage for Trapped, a closing saga of suitably emotive proportions.

Miraclis earned his stripes as a DJ under the name Max Clementi in his native Chile, as well as Spain after a stint at the Barcelona SAE Institute. Playing and writing music since his parents gave him his first guitar at age twelve, he found himself inspired by synth wave, electronic pop, trip hop, and psychedelic rock of the ‘80s and ‘90s, drenching himself in music by the likes of Massive Attack, Tricky, Depeche Mode, and Nine Inch Nails. However, it wasn’t until he had to move back to Pucón to take care of his father during the pandemic that he began working on what would become Origin Of Truth.

Serendipity seems to play a large part in Crosstown Rebels’ new label Secret Teachings. Just look at the story of how Damian met Miraclis in the first place. It involved a chance midnight encounter in Pucón, Chile at a woodland campfire after the DJ was locked out of his hotel room. This meeting of minds was the start of a remarkable friendship, where Miraclis invited Lazarus to stay at his house and break bread with his family. The two kept in touch, exchanging music and ideas as a result.

Less than a year after Botanical Illustration takes patience and Skill EP, Giovanni Natalini aka CO-PILOT, comes back on Simona Faraone’s label, New Interplanetary Melodies, with the Green Machine album, which is its natural prosecution: inside it we also find the three tracks previously published by the same label in audio cassette format only (NIM001- MC).

Green Machine is a concept album, which takes up and develops the ecological issues already treated by the artist in his previous work, namely the increasingly tricky dichotomy between nature and machine and the harmful impact of humans on it.

The A side opens with the already published Botanical Illustration takes patience and Skill (A1), an 8 minutes suite in which the powerful Live drum breaks are perfectly combined with synths and vocal samples, transporting us to the tops of exotic mountains, to continue with the ecstatic Himawari (A2) that sounds like a “desert session” made on Mount Fuji, for a result of pure musical mysticism and finally, Mother Love Nature pt.1 (A3), a track that takes us back to more familiar territories, winking at the most experimental British trip hop of recent memory and Mother Love Nature pt.2 (A4) characterized by a background of modular synths and nature sounds effects that precede Giovanni’s powerful drums, underlining once again this perfect fusion of organic and synthesized sounds.

Side B opens with the psychedelic choruses of Dancing Like Fela (B1) supported by synthetic arpeggios and a frenetic drumline sounds like a breakbeat. Continuing along this side, we come to the unsettling use of vocal samples on the beautiful Halo (B2), the ethereal and danceable art-pop of Lost You - In Translation - (B3) to conclude with the evocative Playing the Zurna in Ulan Bator (B4), a track with a pressing rhythm and elegant arrangements that once again underlines Giovanni Natalini’s mastery in mixing sounds and suggestions that are apparently far away but that always find the right place.

Green Machine sounds like a valid attempt to finally find a “solid” balance between humans and nature, but it also demonstrates how the continuous mixing of sounds is the most effective way to escape from the homologation that is increasingly widespread in contemporary society.