Suche:melancholy man

Los Angeles trio Faetooth sophomore album Labyrinthine is a deeply felt exploration of emotional weight: grief, memory, uncertainty, and the quiet work of growing around your own wounds. Following the band's 2022 debut Remnants of the Vessel, which introduced the band’s signature blend of heaviness and mysticism, Labyrinthine pushes further inward. True to its name, the album winds through a maze of feeling and form, where meaning is never handed over easily. It’s rooted in self-discovery through disorientation, the idea that understanding comes not from escape, but from getting lost. Ari May (guitars and vocals), Jenna Garcia (bass and vocals), and Rah Kanan (drums) manage to stay grounded in the immediate in parallel with fantasy themes of the band's namesake. Labyrinthine holds space for this contradiction; tenderness and intensity, restraint and release. The band's self-branded “fairy doom” sound fits between shoegaze, doom, and grunge. It isn’t just texture; it’s a framework for navigating the unsaid. Like the myth that inspired its title, Labyrinthine doesn’t end in victory, but in confrontation—not with escape, but with the Minotaur. Only here, the Minotaur isn’t a monster. It’s something quiet and more familiar: unresolved feelings, old memories, and sadness that refuse to stay buried. The album winds like a maze, sometimes heavy, sometimes hushed, always intentional. Faetooth isn’t chasing catharsis. They’re creating space to reflect, to feel, and maybe to get a little lost along the way.
Artist quote: "White Noise" emerged from a diary entry, and is a relentless and intense reflection on inner turmoil. We’re often drawn to the familiar, even when we don’t realize we’re reaching out for it. It is an emotional upheaval, carrying harsh truths that weigh heavily on the heart. Guitarist, Ari May mentions, “Performing the song always takes me back to a specific place, even if just for a moment.”
“Riffs and melodies brimming with loneliness and longing… this band’s incantations affect my mood the whole day after listening.” — The Sleeping Shaman
“Bringing otherworldly hazy doom goodness… dreamy clean vocals, echoing harsh vocals, entrancing riffs, meditative shoegaze melodies.” — Nine Circles
“Slow, lumbering behemoths of great weight… couched in a melancholy atmosphere and explosions of crushing heaviness.” - Where Strides The Behemoth

Los Angeles trio Faetooth sophomore album Labyrinthine is a deeply felt exploration of emotional weight: grief, memory, uncertainty, and the quiet work of growing around your own wounds. Following the band's 2022 debut Remnants of the Vessel, which introduced the band’s signature blend of heaviness and mysticism, Labyrinthine pushes further inward. True to its name, the album winds through a maze of feeling and form, where meaning is never handed over easily. It’s rooted in self-discovery through disorientation, the idea that understanding comes not from escape, but from getting lost. Ari May (guitars and vocals), Jenna Garcia (bass and vocals), and Rah Kanan (drums) manage to stay grounded in the immediate in parallel with fantasy themes of the band's namesake. Labyrinthine holds space for this contradiction; tenderness and intensity, restraint and release. The band's self-branded “fairy doom” sound fits between shoegaze, doom, and grunge. It isn’t just texture; it’s a framework for navigating the unsaid. Like the myth that inspired its title, Labyrinthine doesn’t end in victory, but in confrontation—not with escape, but with the Minotaur. Only here, the Minotaur isn’t a monster. It’s something quiet and more familiar: unresolved feelings, old memories, and sadness that refuse to stay buried. The album winds like a maze, sometimes heavy, sometimes hushed, always intentional. Faetooth isn’t chasing catharsis. They’re creating space to reflect, to feel, and maybe to get a little lost along the way.
Artist quote: "White Noise" emerged from a diary entry, and is a relentless and intense reflection on inner turmoil. We’re often drawn to the familiar, even when we don’t realize we’re reaching out for it. It is an emotional upheaval, carrying harsh truths that weigh heavily on the heart. Guitarist, Ari May mentions, “Performing the song always takes me back to a specific place, even if just for a moment.”
“Riffs and melodies brimming with loneliness and longing… this band’s incantations affect my mood the whole day after listening.” — The Sleeping Shaman
“Bringing otherworldly hazy doom goodness… dreamy clean vocals, echoing harsh vocals, entrancing riffs, meditative shoegaze melodies.” — Nine Circles
“Slow, lumbering behemoths of great weight… couched in a melancholy atmosphere and explosions of crushing heaviness.” - Where Strides The Behemoth

Los Angeles trio Faetooth sophomore album Labyrinthine is a deeply felt exploration of emotional weight: grief, memory, uncertainty, and the quiet work of growing around your own wounds. Following the band's 2022 debut Remnants of the Vessel, which introduced the band’s signature blend of heaviness and mysticism, Labyrinthine pushes further inward. True to its name, the album winds through a maze of feeling and form, where meaning is never handed over easily. It’s rooted in self-discovery through disorientation, the idea that understanding comes not from escape, but from getting lost. Ari May (guitars and vocals), Jenna Garcia (bass and vocals), and Rah Kanan (drums) manage to stay grounded in the immediate in parallel with fantasy themes of the band's namesake. Labyrinthine holds space for this contradiction; tenderness and intensity, restraint and release. The band's self-branded “fairy doom” sound fits between shoegaze, doom, and grunge. It isn’t just texture; it’s a framework for navigating the unsaid. Like the myth that inspired its title, Labyrinthine doesn’t end in victory, but in confrontation—not with escape, but with the Minotaur. Only here, the Minotaur isn’t a monster. It’s something quiet and more familiar: unresolved feelings, old memories, and sadness that refuse to stay buried. The album winds like a maze, sometimes heavy, sometimes hushed, always intentional. Faetooth isn’t chasing catharsis. They’re creating space to reflect, to feel, and maybe to get a little lost along the way.
Artist quote: "White Noise" emerged from a diary entry, and is a relentless and intense reflection on inner turmoil. We’re often drawn to the familiar, even when we don’t realize we’re reaching out for it. It is an emotional upheaval, carrying harsh truths that weigh heavily on the heart. Guitarist, Ari May mentions, “Performing the song always takes me back to a specific place, even if just for a moment.”
“Riffs and melodies brimming with loneliness and longing… this band’s incantations affect my mood the whole day after listening.” — The Sleeping Shaman
“Bringing otherworldly hazy doom goodness… dreamy clean vocals, echoing harsh vocals, entrancing riffs, meditative shoegaze melodies.” — Nine Circles
“Slow, lumbering behemoths of great weight… couched in a melancholy atmosphere and explosions of crushing heaviness.” - Where Strides The Behemoth

Bone with Red Splatter Vinyl. New album from Field Medic, "surrender instead". surrender instead is everything a Field Medic fan could want and everything a Field Medic agnostic could need as a convincing sampler. The album returns to each checkpoint in Sullivan’s career thus far, documenting a twentysomething musician becoming a thirtysomething musician—an artist settling into what life exists just beyond the pale and oft-daunting demands of songcraft. This music does not adhere to one shape, and Sullivan is acutely aware of his own lore. He does not avoid well-trodden ground, but this is not the patchwork of old material that Floral Prince was near the dawn of this decade. These songs spawn from a never-finished nexus that hems the Field Medic universe together.

Tough Love brings to vinyl for the first time April Magazine's Sunday Music For An Overpass, a nine track collection originally issued on cassette in vanishingly small number by Paisley Shirt in 2021. The kind of mythical recording you might have once needed to know the band to own. Alas, no longer... Can the universe have two centres? Because if it's not Gothenburg it's San Francisco... It's impossible for me to think about what's going on in that particular part of the west coast right now without immediately being drawn to April Magazine, a comparatively loosely assembled three (sometimes four) piece centred around artist/musician Peter Hurley, who seem to simultaneously operate at both the heart and the margins of the current Bay Area underground. On the one hand they share members with many other bands, their guitarist/singer runs a gallery that functions as some kind of focal point/social space, and Cindy even have a song named after them. On the other hand, their music is resolutely lo-fi and invariably couched in a mysterious haze, the live footage available online seems to suggest that they sound slightly different each time they play, and there are reports they have dozens of songs (possibly albums?) that have not and may never be released, hidden inside their own private universe. On its initial release, Sunday Music For An Overpass was an early attempt to drag the group a little closer into the light, yet inevitably made them feel as endearingly enigmatic as ever. Typically, this vinyl reissue some four years later only goes part way in clearing that alluring fog. April Magazine channel the greats - Spacemen 3, The Pastels, early B&S, Mary Chain, Rainy Day/Opal/Mazzy et al - but submerge their obvious melodic capabilities within seemingly infinite spray can hiss, as if the songs are being pulled backwards through some vortex to the past. Half of these tracks are instrumentals, and it's in those moments that the band are perhaps at their most expressive, suggesting a very inviting melancholy that can't quite be figured out. Though the LP remasters the original recordings and is a little cleaner sounding as a result, no secret is being given away. The appeal is that the more you hear from them, the less you really know, and all the better for it. Maybe, then, it's that April Magazine are here to show there is no centre to the universe, that instead it's always just off to the side...

Journeys are never just about distance. They stretch time, reshape perception, and demand transformation. With its latest vinyl split EP, Standard Deviation presents four tracks by Nastya Vogan and Phase Fatale that serves as a vessel for tracing displacement, memory, and the liminality of return. These melancholic yet powerful techno cuts serve both the concrete dance floor and moments of intimate self-reflection. Two artists--Nastya Vogan and Phase Fatale--approach Kyiv from different trajectories, but they both keep returning to the city. Vogan, a Ukrainian musician and resident DJ of Kyiv, and Phase Fatale (Hayden Payne), Berlin-based producer, Berghain and Khidi resident and founder of BITE Records, share a longstanding musical friendship. They've played B2B sets at K41 and Vogan, appeared on BITE's ''Shedding Skin'' compilation in 2023, and they share a vision for music selection, from aesthetics to philosophy. Vogan's 'Transitioning Territory' and 'This Is Not a Love Song' unravel the psycho-geography of transition. The first track captures the 24-hour journey to Kyiv as a rite of passage where 'time seems to fold; you are profoundly present yet paradoxically far from the world you left.' In this suspended state, memories surface and ordinary life recedes as the train's rhythm becomes its own meditation. Her second track explores Lacanian limerence--consciously falling for something not fully known, filling absences with personal projections as a way to discover what lies within oneself. Phase Fatale's contributions capture movement and distance with mechanical precision. 'Kekkai,' takes its name from the Japanese word for boundary, echoing 'respect my borders' ethos while reflecting on crossing into wartime Ukraine. The term also suggests a protective force field in Buddhist thought--much like Kyiv's current aura of resistance. 'Neosyazhna Rosa' (Unreachable Rose) honors Payne's Ukrainian grandmother Rose, weaving family history into his present connection with Ukraine. Both pieces balance melancholy with light, their sound palette of lush pads and rhythmic breaks crafted with K41's dance floor in mind.

Anchored in the charmingly warm vocal presence that McNown partly honed by busking at the beach in Southern California just a few years ago, Night Diving (The Cost of Growing Up) takes the latter half of its title from a gorgeously textured track that perfectly exemplifies his newly refined sound. With its rootsy and ethereal instrumentation—luminous steel guitar, lush mandolin, soulful organ—“The Cost of Growing Up” arrives as a clear-eyed but melancholy meditation on the inevitability of pain. “To me, the cost of growing up is an acceptance that difficult things are going to happen—from minor inconveniences to devastating loss, it’s all a part of life,” says McNown. “But there’s also beauty in that because, without those hard moments, you wouldn’t be able to truly love.”

"I Became Birds feels like emo once again flipping the switch on its eternal energy source." - PITCHFORK // "One of the most arresting and interesting rock albums in recent memory." - SPIN // "Composed of self-deprecating wails, crashing guitar riffs, and a flicker of lyrical hope that almost feels naive _ in other words, the perfect foundation for classic emo catharsis." - STEREOGUM //// With I Became Birds, Florida's Home Is Where push their unique blend of whirlwind hardcore aggression and warm, open-hearted folksy melancholy to even further heights. Frontperson Brandon MacDonald's Dylan-esque eccentricities are on full display here, from the occasional blast of harmonica (like on early standout "Long Distance Conjoined Twins" or the disaffected, despondency-soaked closer "The Old Country") to their knack for abstractly evocative neurosis-as-poetry. But far from being a copycat act, Home Is Where's wearily raw-throated aesthetic and dynamically vivid compositions feel idiosyncratic and vital. The bittersweet folk melodies seep deeply into the band's DNA, adding an element of accessibility and immediate nostalgia to otherwise churning and angular song structures and sonic assaults. Vocals range from an intimate, gentle, and disarming croon to a full-bodied expectoration of the soul, oftentimes in the same song (like "Sewn Together from the Membrane of the Great Sea Cucumber," which splits the difference between mournful, gothic post-punk and staccato-heeled screamo with aplomb). A devastating rhythm section and nimble, versatile, yet powerful guitar work assist with the record's genre-bending, which ranges from maniacal chemical mixtures to gymnastic flips, twists, and turns. And yet, even amid the din, Home Is Where find ample time for hooks-- the oddball effervescence of lead single "Scientific Classification of Stingrays" and the shimmering, propulsive, delightfully off-kilter late-album stunner "Assisted Harakiri" are more than proof of that. Ultimately, I Became Birds shows Home Is Where hitting an early high-water mark. A brisk record-- six songs in roughly 17 minutes-- it never takes a dip in enthusiasm and inventiveness. Home Is Where's inexhaustible creativity and restless energy is bound to serve them well, and I Became Birds is all the proof anyone needs.

Originally published by Tomlab in 2001, “Seleya” is the second full- length issued by Kristian Peters’ Novisad project. Twenty-four years after its initial release, the album’s thirteen loop-based arrangements continue to resonate with striking clarity. Keplar presents Seleya with a previously unreleased bonus track from 2004 and a fresh vinyl cut by LUPO.

These evocative miniatures feel haunted with the passage of time, bearing traces of the exploratory studio workflows, tactile imperfections, and emerging technologies that would have given birth to them: plain DAW manipulations, aliasing digitalia, the tones and timbres of the “misused” equipment ambient musicians utilized before Ableton, Eurorack, and the rise of the boutique electronics that have streamlined electronic music production.

In our present epoch, these compositions feel almost eerily nostalgic, documenting the sort of trembling, wide-eyed spirit and enviable naivety that characterizes cultural production as it ventures into new waters, unfettered by the sediments of established methodology and trend. This tendency to avoid aesthetic orthodoxy results in music that refuses to settle into predictability. Subtle frequencies drift and collide, counterpoint loops run in quiet opposition, and elegant dissonance gives rise to unexpected harmony. The album’s emotional power lies in these tensions, in the way it balances melancholy with beauty and familiarity with complexity.

REPRESS

New Delhi-based Peter Cat Recording Co. will release their debut album, ‘Bismillah’ on June 14, 2019 via French independent label Panache Records. Debut UK live shows are soon also to be announced by the band.


Peter Cat Recording Co. could almost have a question mark on the end of its name. Not least as founder & frontman Suryakant Sawhney refuses to explain where that name really comes from or what it means (perhaps a reference to the Tokyo jazz club owned by Haruki Murakami), but also since the very existence of the band itself raises a raft of questions. When was the last time we fell for an indie rock band for the right reasons? Not because the band in question nostalgically imitate a perceived ‘golden age’ but because they innately embody the fundamentals of such music: fantasy, sincerity and the freedom to make music without rules or career aspi- rations. And when was the last time this kind of band sounded like Sinatra, Barry White, the sweetest doo-wop, humid fanfares and a psychedelic wedding band, all at once? And all of this coming from India?
In truth, the story of Peter Cat Recording Co. was written within the triangle of San Francisco, Delhi and Paris.
In the first of these cities, Sawhney (a native of Delhi) pitched up to study film-making. More distracted by the city’s peaking live scene of the early noughties, this is where he started to make music and to sketch out an idea for the band.“
The people I lived with supported my idea of writing music, they introduced me to great mu-
sic. There used to be a great garage scene in San Francisco, like The Oh Sees also Ty Seagall, Mikal Conin, all those bands. This is a world I had never seen in my entire life. A big inspiration from San Francisco was that you could record yourself. You don’t need to be in a studio and spend a lot of money to make an album. You can do it”.


At the end of the 2000s, Suryakant returned home to New Delhi, and started his band for real, more or less the same band that plays today. “I wasn’t so concerned about will we be performing, will we be the greatest band, will we be trendy. I just wanted to make something that was consequential and important for us, I think. Something which would last, something people could listen to and be like « this is life changing ». It was for the sake of beauty”.


For the first few years and in India alone, this is exactly what Peter Cat Recording Co. did, in total indifference to the rest of the world. This was until young Parisian label Panache stumbled across the band online via Vice’s THUMP subsidiary, stupefied by the band’s cosmic video for seven-minutes-and-counting track, ‘Love De- mons’. And so in spring of 2018, ‘Portrait Of A Time: 2010-2016’ was released on Panache - making the first international release from Peter Cat Recording Co., bizarrely enough, an anthology of re-mastered, hidden gems from the band’s ramshackle back catalogue, previously recorded in Suryakant’s own living room. With Peter Cat’s off-kilter charm hitherto unheard of beyond the fringes of India, the release provided a gateway op-
Whilst the title track found its way onto Tracks Of The Year lists at the Guardian & NME, it was tricky for new PCRC enthusiasts to get a firm grip on the startling push/pull between the immediate, uncanny music this release gathered, and the cultural backdrop of New Delhi at which it was so startlingly at odds.


Opportunity for a wider fanbase to fall in love with their cloud-like, drunken songs for the first time.
If discovering your favourite new band via a ‘Best Of’ feels a curious premise, then ‘Bismillah’ does more than hint towards the promise of Peter Cat Recording Co’s future. Blending gypsy jazz, psychedelic cabaret, space disco, bossa supernova, Bollywood and uneasy listening with kaleidoscopic ease, in many senses, the band’s knack hasn’t altered. Always different, paradoxical, unpredictable yet somehow familiar. The new album opens to the strains of bird chatter, the whisper of a city’s soundscape and the first few notes from an instrument which seem to be calling us to the departure lounge, a fore-shadow of the flight ‘Bismillah’ launches its listener
on. Suryakant sings with the detached, rueful elegance of Sinatra marooned on a desert island, whilst his band create small space-time capsules which navigate their way through genres and eras – including the future – and between nostalgia and eccentricity.


Peter Cat recently trailed ‘Bismillah’ with the release of ‘Floated By’, an appositely titled musing on failure & missed opportunities, punctuated by the fulsome brass section which weaves through so much of the album.


The languid, blue quality to the track is offset by the attendant music video, created with footage shot, implau- sibly enough, at Suryakant’s own marriage ceremony (needless to say, the wedding band hired for the day was of course, Peter Cat Recording Co.) Sawhney dryly notes; “Hopefully it’s not a many-a-times-in-a-lifetime event. You can’t fake that set, those people actually having a good time, being really emotional and intense.” ‘Bismillah’’s colour-drenched album cover also captures Suryakant’s father-in-law making his wedding toast on that same day - a nod back towards the cover of ‘Portrait Of A Time’, itself a black & white image taken at the wedding ceremony of Suryakant’s own father.


A stumbling but gracious collection of songs rooted in a kind of drunken soul music, the melancholy nature of some of the songs on ‘Bismillah’ renders them almost liquid, before they develop into more dance-like shapes. Suryakant’s rangy voice swoops from the falsetto glide of ‘I’m This’ to the beat-up baritone blown along by the warm breeze of ‘Soulless Friends’. The elliptical structure of album opener ‘Where The Money Flows’ also al-
lows for the use of brief bursts of autotune effect on his vocal without feeling incongruous, whilst the desultory lyrics of ‘Heera’ (a Hindi word for diamond) - sharing something with the Morricone school of grand storytelling - have an emotional weight that would impress even coming from a native English speaker. Perhaps the most gleefully unpredictable moment on ‘Bismillah’ comes with the illusory, vocal loops on the intro to ‘Memory Box’, errupting into 8 exhilarating minutes worth of unbridled, string-backed disco joy. A cat might have nine lives, but on ‘Bismillah’ and beyond, Peter Cat Recording Co. are hinting towards an un- knowable multitude of dimensions. Throw them all together, and it equates less to a listening experience and more to an out-of-body experience.


Peter Cat Recording Co. are: Suryakant Sawhney (vocals/guitar/organ), Dhruv Bhola (bass), Kartik S Pillai (organ/guitar/electronics), Rohit Gupta (horns), Karan Singh (drums)

"The restorations of The Lost Recordings are worthy of those devoted to master paintings." — Le Journal du Dimanche

"We discovered these previously unpublished tapes in the archives of the RBB — the Berlin radio. This discovery is absolutely major because these two incredible musicians had recorded too little together and because this recording offers us the possibility to listen to them in works that were unpublished so far in their discography — notably an extraordinary sonata by Prokofiev! And what can we say about this Bach sonata, with an Andante that brought tears to the eyes of everyone present in the studio at the time." — Frédéric D'ORIA-NICOLAS, Musical treasure seeker

János Starker, cellist, and György Sebok, pianist, were both born in Hungary early in the 20th century. They were welcomed into the formidable Franz Liszt Academy of Music in Budapest, and emigrated to the USA, where they both held the title of Distinguished Professor at the Indiana University School of Music in Bloomington. Both heavy smokers and sometimes reputed — unjustly — to be harsh, austere and insensitive to trends, they were drawn to music in all its varieties and fascinated by its many colours. They had one aim only, one noble objective: to showcase the works all composers, as evidenced by this recording made in the legendary Studio 3 of Berlin Radio on 24 October 1963.

Starker and Sebok were fully imbued with the aesthetics that Prokofiev proclaimed: "I cultivate melody and strive to introduce feeling and emotion into my works. No matter that some call me a cubist, adding that I systematically avoid any emotional or romantic elements in my quest to reach only objectivity."

Next, and at the opposite end of the spectrum, is the Spanish passion of the two pieces by Granados and De Falla, pieces that nevertheless also convey melancholy. Starker and Sebok launch into the works with enthusiasm and intensity.

The last piece, Bach's Sonata in G Major, BWV 1027 for Viola da Gamba and Keyboard, is one of three he composed, probably in Köthen. Because they may have originally been written for other instruments, they can easily be transcribed for the cello and piano. They reveal the rich influences that pervaded the German region during the first half of the 18th century. The two musicians give us a sublime interpretation of the beauty of the counterpoint in this Sonata.

These recordings attest to the importance that the two superb musicians attached to working in the service of the composers. We wonder if, in that enchanted studio in Berlin in 1963, they knew how much further they went to bewitch us and touch us so profoundly.

Come Ahead ist das 12. Album von Primal Scream. 11 neue Songs, mit denen Bobby Gillespie sich darauf
vorbereitet, einige der persönlichsten Songs der Bandkarriere zu veröffentlichen.
Der Songwriting-Prozess für Come Ahead begann 2019. Zu diesem Zeitpunkt hatte Bobby Gillespie noch
keine Ahnung, ob er noch einmal ein Album von Primal Scream machen würde. Zum ersten Mal kamen
die Texte vor der Musik. Die Geschichte kam zuerst. Bobby schrieb allein, mit einer Akustikgitarre. Die
Ideen flossen schnell, in langen Inspirationsschüben. Dieser Prozess, zusammen mit der Ermutigung durch
Produzent David Holmes, bot einen neuen Einstieg. In Zusammenarbeit mit Holmes und Primal ScreamGitarrist Andrew Innes wurden die Come Ahead-Sessions in Belfast, London und Los Angeles durchgeführt.
„Ich bin sehr aufgeregt über dieses Album, so als würde man seine erste Platte machen. Wenn es ein
Gesamtthema für Come Ahead gäbe, wäre es vielleicht ein Konflikt, ob innerlich oder äußerlich. Der Titel
ist ein Begriff aus Glasgow. Wenn jemand droht, mit dir zu kämpfen, sagst du: ‚Komm schon!‘ Es erinnert
an den unbezwingbaren Geist der Glasgower, und das Album selbst vermittelt diese aggressive Haltung und
Zuversicht. Sie haben da oben ein Wort dafür: gallus. ‚Come Ahead‘ ist auch ein ziemlich frecher Titel.“
Bobby Gillespie

Introducing "Still Quiet", the latest sonic exploration from The Soundbyte, the innovative project of guitarist and composer Trond Engum from the legendary The 3rd and The Mortal. The album Still Quiet transcends musical boundaries, seamlessly blending Norwegian folk traditions with electroacoustic textures and metal influences, creating a sound that defies conventional categorization. Central to the experience are Trond Engum's distinctive guitar style and Rune Hoemsnes' (The 3rd and The Mortal, Manes) signature drumming. They are joined by a carefully chosen ensemble of renowned musicians whose contributions complement the captivating vocal performances of Kirsti Huke and Andreas Elvenes. The album weaves together unsettling rhythms, innovative guitar work, haunting soundscapes, and strong melodic lines-each track forming part of a greater whole. The music captures the fragile tension between stability and uncertainty, shifting effortlessly from quiet melancholy to uncompromising rawness and intensity. Still Quiet invites listeners into a moving and immersive sonic experience, challenging musical norms and rewarding those who revisit it again and again. With this album, The Soundbyte deliver their most compelling and ambitious work yet.

An’archives present the debut album by Tokyo avant-pop duo Jyuriaano, Dreaming Glass. Consisting of Morimoto Ariomi and Cobalt, the two members of Jyuriaano have long histories in Japanese underground music. Morimoto’s history traces back to the late nineties; his nascent interests in noise collage and solo acoustic performance slowly transmuted to group endeavours, and more recently he’s performed with the likes of Akiko Toshimitsu (Usurabi), Maki Miura (Shizuka) and Doronco (Los Doroncos).

Cobalt has released a string of excellent singer-songwriter albums, many on his Poet Portraits label, which has also released material by the likes of Kazumi Nikaido, Place Called Space, Cuthberts, and moools, the latter of which he also performs with on occasion. While Morimoto and Cobalt have known each other for decades, they decided to form Jyuriaano in 2016, and since then have performed at live houses and small bars in Japan, all while slowly working together on their gentle, spirited songs.

The group’s formation story is typically playful – “It all started when we brought an acoustic guitar into the car on a rainy afternoon and started writing songs while eating Japanese sweets,” Cobalt recalls. That sense of play is important to the songs on Dreaming Glass, which vary wildly, from bright, infectious pop songs with a sixties lilt (“Dreaming Baby”, “How Close”), through slinky jazz-pop numbers (“Drawing A Nude”) to melancholy folk laments (“Erica”, “Night Window”). There’s something in Jyuriaano’s collaborative dynamic that gifts Morimoto and Cobalt a particularly open field, when it comes to their creative endeavours.

Some of this might also be down to their listening habits. When asked about their interest in Japanese folk precursors, legendary groups like Folk Crusaders and Itsutsu-no-Akai-Fusen, Cobalt agrees that they have a place in the duo’s listening pantheon, but that’s not where the story ends. “We’ve also listened to commercial folk music outside of those core genres,” he reflects, “We don’t just listen to one genre, but also rock and roll, noise industrial, punk, new wave, jazz, chanson, and more.”

You might also hear touches of groups like the forementioned Usurabi, or Maher Shalal Hash Baz, or songwriters like Kazumi Nikaido and Shintaro Sakamoto. But Jyuriaano’s songs, somehow, feel quite sui generis in the way they magic up alternative visions for pop’s possibilities. Dreaming Glass is, quite simply, a lovely, unpretentious joy of an album.

Divine Dances. In plural form.
The fourth album from DjeuhDjoah & Lieutenant Nicholson couldn't have a more explicit title.


Masters of emotions and feelings, the duo has always known how to express melancholy and nostalgia with precision. Yet this time, all their efforts have concentrated on a single goal: taking listeners by the hand—no, by the ear, obviously!—to bring everyone back to the dance floor and explore a variety of atmospheres together.


And naturally, a variety of styles. Funk, ndombolo, electro, hip hop or zouk, each new vibration discovered carries away the previous one to form a dancefloor where all eventually come together.
Divinely light.


The body, surrendered to this call to dance in all its forms, has been so caught up in the whirlwind of groove that the mind has fallen in behind it to continue as one. Words explode into syllables that metamorphose into notes, then perfectly align with those from the score.


One second. A bit of attention. Caught by an irrepressible groove, then comes the moment to slalom through melodies to discover, at the turn of a rhyme, a new meaning. Approached head-on, certain overly serious themes would empty the room and bring the atmosphere down to lead levels. The diagonal approach, humor, and apparent nonchalance of the two men are the best weapons at their disposal. Their Trojan horse to put substance into their form(s). To evoke transidentity, consent, economic malaise as well as the spiritual, or to tell little stories of frustrated loves, seemingly insoluble but which will end well.


Anthony Hilaire for Creole words, Sarah Solo for hip-swiveling soukous, Patrick Bebey for pygmy flute notes, and Grégoire Mahé to bring electricity to DjeuhDjoah & Lieutenant Nicholson's songs; styles blend in a musicality worked into its smallest interstices.


Gathered on this dance floor illuminated with 80s disco brilliance, you observe brassy notes slithering under the electronic veneer, synthesizer keys splashed by furious hip movements. To raise your eyes to connect with the spiritual is to watch the sky become constellated with crystalline Fender Rhodes notes, destined to fall like rain on the heavy bass of afrobeat groove.
Smiles attached to faces, no one should think they can get through the ten tracks of Divine Dances while remaining seated : he's doomed to fail.


OUT MAY 2025 DELUXE WHITE VINYL 180 G /CD / DIGITAL

"Amazing! Like stumbling on a treasure-trove of unheard Charlie Patton and Blind Willie McTell 78s, but imbued with the spirit of Mahlathini and Ladysmith." Joe Boyd

'But for this compilation of rescued songs masterfully restored from rare 78 rpm shellacs, few could imagine the diversely beautiful roots of Zulu Guitar Music emerging during the period 1950 – 1965. Story-tellers and master musicians appropriate outlaw personae, re-purpose country and western, Hawaiian and other styles, to stretch and challenge our notion of “the Zulu guitar”.

Twenty-five songs (18 on vinyl) plunge us into the depths of the migrant experience. Translations in the liner notes offer us glimpses of pugnacity, melancholy and heartache, all coloured by the paternalism that circumscribed the singers’ apartheid-dominated lives.

The early *mbaqanga* undertow in many of the songs subverts the wanderlust of Country and Western music into a fugitivity burdened by nostalgia. Something irretrievable has been lost, prompting a blending of ideas and cultures to make sense through thankless acts of musical divination. Inadvertently they have been thrust into the role of the antihero, where outwitting competition for lovers is as important as evading the Black Jacks (apartheid’s municipal cops) and their informants.

Considering the politically repressive period that this music emerges from, we can surmise that the specificity in the storytelling went a long way towards evading censure. But even when words are absent, there is a narrative arc suggested by the musical expression.

With most of the master tapes wilfully destroyed or lost, modern transcription and restoration techniques from the original shellac discs present the original sound most likely more clearly than ever heard before.'

Produced for reissue by Chris Albertyn and Matt Temple at Matsuli Music and Siemon Allen at Flatinternational.
Artwork design by Siemon Allen.
Liner note and translations by Kwanele Sosibo.
Audio restoration and lacquers by Frank Merritt at The Carvery and pressed at Pallas, Germany.
Original 78rpm recordings sourced from the collections of Chris Albertyn at Matsuli Music, and Siemon Allen at the Flatinternational Archive.

Frizzy P & Mr Cole are a trip-hop duo blending old-school hip-hop, jazz, and analog sounds. Their intimate, melancholic music has earned them growing recognition on the independent scene. Frizzy P, a singer with a captivating voice, and Mr Cole, a beatmaker passionate about vintage sounds, have been collaborating since 2015. Their debut EP, Ladi Dadi (2017), became an underground success, racking up millions of streams and airplay on BBC Music 6 and FIP. In 2023, they followed up with Ladi Dadi II, further refining their musical identity. In 2024, they released The Backroom Tape, a mixtape featuring unreleased tracks, ahead of their final chapter, Ladi Dadi III, set for April 2025. This last installment will feature six new tracks, rich in melancholy and raw emotions. Their live performances have taken them across France and beyond. In 2025, they plan to expand their stage presence with additional musicians. Their unique approach to modern yet timeless trip-hop continues to solidify their place in the music scene.

‘SUN SHONE’ is a multidisciplinary music and art project of Istanbul-born, Amsterdam-based Deniz Omeroglu AKA Loradeniz,. ‘SUN SHONE’ marks the arrival of her debut full-length album: eight tracks of ambient electronic music painted masterfully with a palette of synthesizers, effects, percussion and ethereal voice.

‘SUN SHONE’ was conceived in two parts: the first tracks coming spontaneously to life in the aftermath of heartbreak, with Omeroglu trusting the creative flow and using it as a method of self- healing. What was initially planned as an EP release grew into a full-length album as she spent one month consciously working on the perfect B-side to complement the music.

Omeroglu wrote, performed and produced everything on the album, drawing on her deep knowledge of music theory and production; in addition to studying classical piano in the Conservatory from an early age, she holds both a Bachelor’s degree in Composition Studies and a Masters degree in Sound Design.

Many of the compositions on ‘SUN SHONE’ centre around interplaying synth arpeggios, oscillators expertly tuned for an equal degree of menace and sweetness that balances on a knife-edge. This ambiguity is echoed lyrically across the record, with its recurring themes of love lost and memories revisited. From the spoken word of opener ‘Saint Odds’ and ‘Swimmer’ to the layered choral swells of ‘No Moon’ and the melodic hooks of ‘Brick House’, Omeroglu’s voice is central to ‘SUN SHONE’, employed with impressive versatility. At times, it feels simultaneously fragile and powerful, perhaps nowhere more so than in the yearning swells of “Cloud Sofa’, a healing lullaby for lost love that offers up one of the most delicate moments on the album. 


Whilst this may loosely be referred to as an ‘ambient’ album, Loradeniz’s knowledge of modern day production techniques and experience as both a sound designer and seasoned DJ (both in clubs and on radio) makes its presence felt throughout; echoes of Artificial Intelligence-era IDM appear in the dancing arpeggios and rhythmic pulses of ‘Sea Serpent’ and ‘Waterbear’, while the album closer ‘Aftersun’ could easily be imagined working as the euphoric last tune of a club set at sunrise. 


With her debut album, Loradeniz weaves together an impressive breadth of styles and sounds, all held seamlessly together by a feeling; a cathartic desire to bring out all the melancholia from within. The album opens with the words ‘The search of love continues in the face of great odds’ a suitable mantra for a record that manages to combine melancholy with intense rushes of positivity and hopes for the future.

Every so often an album of such deceptive genius, of such aesthetic clarity, comes across our desk and transfixes us. Thought Leadership's III Of Pentacles is one such work of art. It's an instant classic and glides into the pantheon of timeless guitar-soul totems. Originally out on cassette only, we present the first ever vinyl issue. It's a hideously limited pressing of 300 for the world, so don't sleep on this.

Thought Leadership has already garnered big support from such tastemakers as Ruf Dug, Jason Boardman, Nathan Gregory Wilkins, J Walk, Evan Woodward, Justin Robertson and Heavenly's Jeff Barrett. The first time we heard III Of Pentacles, we nearly wept at the thought that something so beautiful, so bursting with real hope, could even exist in this brutal world. To quote the Quietus, "imagine if Stockport was situated somewhere along the Pacific Coast Highway rather than the M60, and you’ll have some idea of the coordinates to the post-industrial, sunburnt dream space opened up here."

So, who is Thought Leadership? What do we know about them? They reside in Stockport and are obsessed with ethereal guitar records. That’s about it. That and these X ideas shared with you, the listener.

Captured on a multitrack recorder in a terraced house in Stockport, this is as DIY as it gets. Glaringly obvious is a love for classic Factory and early 4AD. Perhaps it is the proximity to the River Mersey where the ideas arrived, and there being but three miles between where this and the Durutti Column’s classic “LC” was recorded, as the two operate across a familiar aural plain. Be it geographic or otherwise, limited by a true economy of means, namely guitar, pedals and drum machine, the fruit borne from these humble tools has been indelibly shaped by the perma-gloom that hangs low over the Manchester and Stockport environs.

Ushered in on 808 kicks, “I” opens the record as a beautiful Sketch for Stockport; a chiming maj7 chord dripping in chorus and delay sets us on our way. The Vini Reilly comparisons are unavoidable. “II” is all John McGeoch, with its trippy goth-psyche arpeggiated pattern cascading across the stereo image. Do those drums swing? But goths don’t swing?! They do here. We’re treated to a bit of crunch on the lead guitar part and some really lush reverb. We even step forth into shoegaze territory, albeit briefly, for the middle eight. “III”, a firm Be With favourite, continues the dreamy psyche leanings of the previous track, with an even bigger melody this time. We’re hearing The Teardrop Explodes on quaaludes here. A proto-dream pop cut soaked in melancholy. But watch out! The coda finds Johnny Marr has gotten into the ‘ludes and gatecrashed the final bars with some incredibly ignorant B minor pentatonic noodling.

“IV” ditches the drum machine for the first in a suite of three beatless electric guitar duets. The first of these semi-improvised rubato ideas is a striking departure from the earlier playful pieces, coming over emo and moody. Greyscale sulking for Stratocaster. Sign us up. “V” contains some really lyrical phrasing; a gorgeous conversation between two guitars. Real Stopfordian Primitive; meditative, crude, rain-soaked. We cycle through the same feels, then end on an alluring chord that breaks the pattern. Sometimes thoughts are like this. “VI” creeps in all plaintive, then a huge reverberating descending guitar line comes tumbling in like something off those classic Dif Juz 12”s. There’s some Maurice Deebank in there too, for sure, and the coda nods to early Meat Puppets.

“VII” rounds out the A Side, and succinctly presents a summary of all ideas explored thus far on our journey. The drum machine is back, this time with some wispy delay, before both guitars enter together playing interlocking lines. As we start, we end, with the delayed 808 guiding us out.

Opening Side B, “VIII” sees us embark on the other side of our journey as we slow down and space out. The drum machine is here, but the guitars are different now. Think Sensations Fix or Göttsching at his most peeled out. Drones, ambient drifts of broken chords and distorted lead lines all swirl round the mix. Side B is one for headphones for sure. “IX” is almost too exquisite for words. A New Age Mixolydian voyage through the cosmos. If you’re unmoved by the end you’ve probably got no pulse. We were left blunted ineffable by this one, such is the smudged elegance radiating from this idea. All hail the Thought Leader.

“X” is a full circle moment, and a fitting end. If you’ve not already elsewhere across the platter, you will be getting heavy Robin Guthrie vibes from this piece. Like the rest of Side B, this improvised jam sticks within a framework of related chords but the celestial energies channelled might invite us to wander “outside”, especially when the Tubescreamer is engaged.

RIYL Durutti Coulmn, Cocteau Twins, Dif Juz, Sensations Fix, Spike and adjacent guitar musicks – but, ultimately, this is just its own thing; such is the strength of ideas presented. "It’s good music to chill out to." (??)

Be With is honoured to present the first ever vinyl release of III Of Pentacles, carefully remastered by Be With's engineer Simon Francisco to ensure it sounds better than ever after its initial tape release. Cicely Balston's expert skills have made sure nothing is lost in the cut whilst the records have been pressed to the highest possible standard at Record Industry, in Holland. The original tape cover artwork, so crucial to Thought Leadership's striking visual aesthetic, has been rejigged for vinyl issue here at Be With. Its stark presentation befits the music contained within. They inform us that they shuffled their tarot deck to ask what the album should be called and the card you see on the cover popped out. The III Of Pentacles tarot card represents teamwork, shared vision and the ability to achieve goals through collaboration. We like to think Thought Leadership and Be With have nailed this one.

Although still very much a secret, Oakland, California's Justin Pinkerton has perfected and expanded his Futuropaco project to a stunning degree over the past seven years. The one-man band is deeply rooted in Pinkerton's masterful drumming, which builds on the legacy of 1960's and 1970's legends such as Tony Allen and Jaki Liebezeit. But he's an accomplished multi-instrumentalist as well, and the Futuropaco sound is a colourful fusion that sees him throw fuzz guitars, flutes, vintage synthesizers and Anatolian string instruments into the mix - seemingly without much effort. The second and final volume of the "Fortezza Di Vetro" series feels like a conclusion, the sound of an artist reaching his creative zenith. It's an experimental album, yet immediately seductive in its energy - channeling the vibey art-rock of Tortoise, Black Sabbath riffage and vintage Italian film music in equal measures. It's such a refined and esoteric blend, yet hits so directly. It's simply impossible not to crank the volume knob once this slab of vinyl is on the turntable, followed by immediate head nodding. Buy the ticket, take the ride. Justin Pinkerton is a vastly talented rhythmsmith, best known as a member of Californian stoners Golden Void. On this project he plays all the other instruments too so he can do what he blooming well feels. And it's not as if the drum solos go on for twenty minutes like those of John Bonham and his pale imitators. Nope. Into tracks that are both jam-packed and concise, Pinkerton has squeezed his love of vintage Italian library music, classic krautrock and heavy psych rock. At one point it suggests Grails have been performing super-speed cover versions of fusion-era Miles Davis with Adrian Younge on production. -The Quietus Futuropaco returns in a big way with Fortezza di Vetro, a buzzing, groove-heavy album that expands on what came before while staying true to the project's origins. Dizzying, fuzzed-out psych with just the right amount of melancholy for good measure. Justin Pinkerton and Futuropaco have done it again. Fantastico! -Complex Distractions

Nach einem Jahrzehnt, in dem die Band das Beste aus improvisierten Aufnahmeräumen in Lagerhäusern, Wohnwagen und Lofts gemacht hat, ist „For Melancholy Brunettes (& sad women)“, das vierte Album von Japanese Breakfast, die erste richtige Studioveröffentlichung der Band. Produziert von Grammy-Preisträger Blake Mills, zieht sich Frontfrau und Songschreiberin Michelle Zauner von der hellen Extrovertiertheit des Vorgängers „Jubilee“ zurück, um die dunkleren Wogen zu erforschen, die in ihrem Inneren aufgewühlt sind, das launische, fruchtbare Feld der Melancholie, das seit langem als der psychische Zustand von Dichtern am Rande der Inspiration gilt. Das Ergebnis ist eine künstlerische Absichtserklärung: ein reifes, komplexes, kontemplatives Werk, das den romantischen Nervenkitzel einer Gothic Novel heraufbeschwört. „For Melancholy Brunettes (& sad women)“ folgt einer transformativen Periode in Zauners Leben, in der ihr zweifach GRAMMY-nominiertes Durchbruchsalbum ‚Jubilee‘ und ihre Bestseller-Memoiren ‚Crying In H Mart‘ sie in den kulturellen Mainstream katapultierten und ihre tiefsten künstlerischen Ambitionen erfüllten. Als sie über diesen Erfolg nachdachte, erkannte Zauner die Ironie der Sehnsucht, die so oft Glückseligkeit und Verderben miteinander verbindet. „Ich fühlte mich verführt, das zu bekommen, was ich immer wollte“, sagt sie. „Ich flog zu nah an die Sonne heran, und mir wurde klar, dass ich sterben würde, wenn ich weiterflöge“. Das Schicksal von Ikarus und anderen Verdammten verleiht „For Melancholy Brunettes (& sad women)“ sein beständigstes Thema: die Gefahren des Begehrens. Wie zerstreutes Licht führen seine spektralen Teile die Charaktere des Albums durch Zyklen von Versuchung, Übertretung und Vergeltung. In „Orlando in Love“ - ein Riff auf John Cheevers Riff auf „Orlando Innamorato“, einem unvollendeten Epos, das aus 68 Cantos des Renaissance-Dichters Matteo Maria Boiardo besteht - ist der Held ein gutmütiger Dichter, der sein Winnebago am Meer parkt und dem Ruf einer Sirene zum Opfer fällt, seinem 69. Canto (selbst im erhabenen Reich des klassischen Mythos hat Zauner ein Faible für Anspielungen). „Honey Water“ lotet die stille Wut einer Frau aus, die mit einem untreuen Mann verheiratet ist und zusieht, wie er immer wieder der Lust nachgibt wie ein niederes Insekt, das seinen eigenen Untergang herbeiführt Traurigkeit ist in der Tat die dominierende emotionale Tonart dieser Platte, aber es ist eine Traurigkeit der besonderen Art: die nachdenkliche, vorausschauende Traurigkeit der Melancholie, in der die Erkenntnis des im Wesentlichen tragischen Charakters des Lebens mit Sensibilität für seine flüchtige Schönheit einhergeht. Zauner findet in ihr genügend Raum für Hoffnungsschimmer. Es sind die Tröstungen der Sterblichen, die Dichter vor ihr gerufen haben und die Dichter nach ihr immer wieder neu entdecken werden: Liebe und Arbeit, und obwohl sie sich wie stärkende Vorsätze durch die vielen Episoden des Albums ziehen, erklingen sie am deutlichsten im letzten Song, „Magic Mountain“, einer Auseinandersetzung mit Thomas Manns berühmtem gleichnamigen Roman. Für sie fühlt sich jede Arbeit wie das Erklimmen eines Berges an, aber von der Spitze von „For Melancholy Brunettes (& sad women)“ aus blickt sie in die Zukunft.

Nach einem Jahrzehnt, in dem die Band das Beste aus improvisierten Aufnahmeräumen in Lagerhäusern, Wohnwagen und Lofts gemacht hat, ist „For Melancholy Brunettes (& sad women)“, das vierte Album von Japanese Breakfast, die erste richtige Studioveröffentlichung der Band. Produziert von Grammy-Preisträger Blake Mills, zieht sich Frontfrau und Songschreiberin Michelle Zauner von der hellen Extrovertiertheit des Vorgängers „Jubilee“ zurück, um die dunkleren Wogen zu erforschen, die in ihrem Inneren aufgewühlt sind, das launische, fruchtbare Feld der Melancholie, das seit langem als der psychische Zustand von Dichtern am Rande der Inspiration gilt. Das Ergebnis ist eine künstlerische Absichtserklärung: ein reifes, komplexes, kontemplatives Werk, das den romantischen Nervenkitzel einer Gothic Novel heraufbeschwört. „For Melancholy Brunettes (& sad women)“ folgt einer transformativen Periode in Zauners Leben, in der ihr zweifach GRAMMY-nominiertes Durchbruchsalbum ‚Jubilee‘ und ihre Bestseller-Memoiren ‚Crying In H Mart‘ sie in den kulturellen Mainstream katapultierten und ihre tiefsten künstlerischen Ambitionen erfüllten. Als sie über diesen Erfolg nachdachte, erkannte Zauner die Ironie der Sehnsucht, die so oft Glückseligkeit und Verderben miteinander verbindet. „Ich fühlte mich verführt, das zu bekommen, was ich immer wollte“, sagt sie. „Ich flog zu nah an die Sonne heran, und mir wurde klar, dass ich sterben würde, wenn ich weiterflöge“. Das Schicksal von Ikarus und anderen Verdammten verleiht „For Melancholy Brunettes (& sad women)“ sein beständigstes Thema: die Gefahren des Begehrens. Wie zerstreutes Licht führen seine spektralen Teile die Charaktere des Albums durch Zyklen von Versuchung, Übertretung und Vergeltung. In „Orlando in Love“ - ein Riff auf John Cheevers Riff auf „Orlando Innamorato“, einem unvollendeten Epos, das aus 68 Cantos des Renaissance-Dichters Matteo Maria Boiardo besteht - ist der Held ein gutmütiger Dichter, der sein Winnebago am Meer parkt und dem Ruf einer Sirene zum Opfer fällt, seinem 69. Canto (selbst im erhabenen Reich des klassischen Mythos hat Zauner ein Faible für Anspielungen). „Honey Water“ lotet die stille Wut einer Frau aus, die mit einem untreuen Mann verheiratet ist und zusieht, wie er immer wieder der Lust nachgibt wie ein niederes Insekt, das seinen eigenen Untergang herbeiführt Traurigkeit ist in der Tat die dominierende emotionale Tonart dieser Platte, aber es ist eine Traurigkeit der besonderen Art: die nachdenkliche, vorausschauende Traurigkeit der Melancholie, in der die Erkenntnis des im Wesentlichen tragischen Charakters des Lebens mit Sensibilität für seine flüchtige Schönheit einhergeht. Zauner findet in ihr genügend Raum für Hoffnungsschimmer. Es sind die Tröstungen der Sterblichen, die Dichter vor ihr gerufen haben und die Dichter nach ihr immer wieder neu entdecken werden: Liebe und Arbeit, und obwohl sie sich wie stärkende Vorsätze durch die vielen Episoden des Albums ziehen, erklingen sie am deutlichsten im letzten Song, „Magic Mountain“, einer Auseinandersetzung mit Thomas Manns berühmtem gleichnamigen Roman. Für sie fühlt sich jede Arbeit wie das Erklimmen eines Berges an, aber von der Spitze von „For Melancholy Brunettes (& sad women)“ aus blickt sie in die Zukunft.

Nach einem Jahrzehnt, in dem die Band das Beste aus improvisierten Aufnahmeräumen in Lagerhäusern, Wohnwagen und Lofts gemacht hat, ist „For Melancholy Brunettes (& sad women)“, das vierte Album von Japanese Breakfast, die erste richtige Studioveröffentlichung der Band. Produziert von Grammy-Preisträger Blake Mills, zieht sich Frontfrau und Songschreiberin Michelle Zauner von der hellen Extrovertiertheit des Vorgängers „Jubilee“ zurück, um die dunkleren Wogen zu erforschen, die in ihrem Inneren aufgewühlt sind, das launische, fruchtbare Feld der Melancholie, das seit langem als der psychische Zustand von Dichtern am Rande der Inspiration gilt. Das Ergebnis ist eine künstlerische Absichtserklärung: ein reifes, komplexes, kontemplatives Werk, das den romantischen Nervenkitzel einer Gothic Novel heraufbeschwört. „For Melancholy Brunettes (& sad women)“ folgt einer transformativen Periode in Zauners Leben, in der ihr zweifach GRAMMY-nominiertes Durchbruchsalbum ‚Jubilee‘ und ihre Bestseller-Memoiren ‚Crying In H Mart‘ sie in den kulturellen Mainstream katapultierten und ihre tiefsten künstlerischen Ambitionen erfüllten. Als sie über diesen Erfolg nachdachte, erkannte Zauner die Ironie der Sehnsucht, die so oft Glückseligkeit und Verderben miteinander verbindet. „Ich fühlte mich verführt, das zu bekommen, was ich immer wollte“, sagt sie. „Ich flog zu nah an die Sonne heran, und mir wurde klar, dass ich sterben würde, wenn ich weiterflöge“. Das Schicksal von Ikarus und anderen Verdammten verleiht „For Melancholy Brunettes (& sad women)“ sein beständigstes Thema: die Gefahren des Begehrens. Wie zerstreutes Licht führen seine spektralen Teile die Charaktere des Albums durch Zyklen von Versuchung, Übertretung und Vergeltung. In „Orlando in Love“ - ein Riff auf John Cheevers Riff auf „Orlando Innamorato“, einem unvollendeten Epos, das aus 68 Cantos des Renaissance-Dichters Matteo Maria Boiardo besteht - ist der Held ein gutmütiger Dichter, der sein Winnebago am Meer parkt und dem Ruf einer Sirene zum Opfer fällt, seinem 69. Canto (selbst im erhabenen Reich des klassischen Mythos hat Zauner ein Faible für Anspielungen). „Honey Water“ lotet die stille Wut einer Frau aus, die mit einem untreuen Mann verheiratet ist und zusieht, wie er immer wieder der Lust nachgibt wie ein niederes Insekt, das seinen eigenen Untergang herbeiführt Traurigkeit ist in der Tat die dominierende emotionale Tonart dieser Platte, aber es ist eine Traurigkeit der besonderen Art: die nachdenkliche, vorausschauende Traurigkeit der Melancholie, in der die Erkenntnis des im Wesentlichen tragischen Charakters des Lebens mit Sensibilität für seine flüchtige Schönheit einhergeht. Zauner findet in ihr genügend Raum für Hoffnungsschimmer. Es sind die Tröstungen der Sterblichen, die Dichter vor ihr gerufen haben und die Dichter nach ihr immer wieder neu entdecken werden: Liebe und Arbeit, und obwohl sie sich wie stärkende Vorsätze durch die vielen Episoden des Albums ziehen, erklingen sie am deutlichsten im letzten Song, „Magic Mountain“, einer Auseinandersetzung mit Thomas Manns berühmtem gleichnamigen Roman. Für sie fühlt sich jede Arbeit wie das Erklimmen eines Berges an, aber von der Spitze von „For Melancholy Brunettes (& sad women)“ aus blickt sie in die Zukunft.

Born from a childhood friendship, the five members of Ciao Kennedy have crafted their own sound and feeling after exploring a variety of different musical horizons. Following the release of EPs 'Keldercave' (2021) and 'the problem is' (2022), as well as being featured on the compilation Lefto presents Jazz Cats Vol. 3 in the spring of 2024, it was only a matter of time for the Brussels-based band to reappear on the music circuit.

As part of the Magma collective, alongside groups like TUKAN and ECHT!, they started to stand out with their instrumental music merging the playfulness of jazz,the repetitive facets of post-rock, and the overtly grand electronic sound evident in what is nowadays described through the grapevine as the 'Brussels sound'.

With Solarium, their debut album set to be released under the Sdban Ultra label, they have found a course and common denominator in guitars drenched with post-rock effects, steered by hypnotic electronic beats, creating an atmosphere of rare, dense melancholy, peppered with a sound that belongs in a blockbuster sci-fi movie.

Ciao Kennedy and its debut album are a tangy candy bursting in your mouth, the thrill of an afternoon at the fair, modernity meeting up with the nostalgia of childhood. Or standing beneath the shimmering neon lights of a rainy night, like colourful poetry, blending tenderness with electric intensity. Many of these musical descriptions would be completely off the mark, but after a few listens, they don't seem to miss the mark either. There's something for everyone to discover on this album, oscillating between the familiar and the unexpected, melancholy and cheer, and while everyone keeps on talking about something being a 'vibe', we can only conclude that Ciao Kennedy is the only one putting this into action.

To celebrate the release of Solarium, the band will host a release party at the Brussels venue Botanique on April 17, 2025. A must-attend event for everyone who wants to see if the live reputation which precedes Ciao Kennedy is actually true. Whatever happens, make sure to keep that date free.

Release show: 17/04 Botanique, Brussels.

"Float like a butterfly and sting like a bee" said the famous boxer Mohammed Ali, in reference to his legendary strike. This punchline also works wonderfully in music, listening to Roseaux's third album. A French success story, created with all modesty and honesty by the Parisian trio: Emile Omar, Alex Finkin and Clément Petit.

The three musketeers of sound cultivate their know-how, now acclaimed by critics and an ever-growing audience since their first project in 2012. It took them time to take a step back and gain perspective in order to offer us a return that is both joyful and resounding.

Roseaux takes root on the banks of soul, folk, jazz, and songs from all eras, a cascade of inexhaustible sounds, where the three composers draw their inspiration and merge their experiences.

The leaves of Roseaux soar to the breath of wonderful voices, chosen with precision by the three friends, like that of the American singer Aloe Blacc, present since the beginning of the adventure, essential enchanter of the three episodes.

Conceived as a dreamlike escapade full of emotions, on the fringes of the massive, instantaneous and often disembodied production, Roseaux is a totally artisanal group, a sort of UFO in the French musical landscape, which operates on instinct and above all on desire.

Thus, Roseaux has become an expert in bringing together, for the duration of a record, the artists who specifically form the DNA of their host: captivating voices, a plot on the piano and cello, but also encounters and reunions, in a poetic and deliberately nebulous universe.

A welcoming nebula, where the listener is invited to listen and immerse themselves without hindrance, in a luxuriant, wild, exciting sound forest. This third album is the work of 3 music lovers, capable of switching roles: writing, arrangements, production, from which emerge this time, eleven tracks with chiseled melodies including three colorful and unusual instrumentals.

A journey between melancholy and euphoria, which led Roseaux to the ends of the planet, from the Caribbean to Europe via Africa to unearth other vibrations and unique performers: the captivating Grenadian-British singer Ala.ni, the little English afropop prince from Ghana, Ghetto Boy, and the disturbing Swedish Isabel Sörling, sign here a first flamboyant collaboration with the group.

While the talented Haitian-Canadian Mélissa Laveaux, the hypnotic Scandinavian singer Olle Nyman, the sparkling French-Canadian Anna Majidson and our remarkable national Ben, already present on the second part, still manage to create a surprise by revealing new aspects of their range.

Roseaux's voices are decidedly impenetrable and its magic is renewed today by making the strength of all these scintillating elements dialogue, to be discovered in a setting of softness and voluptuousness.

Nature is full of reeds, this one is unique.

BENMONT TENCHs neues Album The Melancholy Season ist sein zweites Soloalbum nach vier Jahrzehnten an den Keyboards bei Tom Petty and the Heartbreakers. The Melancholy Season erschien bei Dark
Horse Records und ist Tenchs wahrer Einstand als Singer-Songwriter, ohne Kompromisse oder Zweifel. Es
wurde von Jonathan Wilson produziert – einem gefeierten Singer-Songwriter und Tourgitarristen von Roger
Waters, der an karrierebestimmenden Alben für Dawes, Father John Misty und Margo Price gearbeitet hat.
Die Kern-Studioband des Albums bestand unter anderem aus Taylor Goldsmith von Dawes an der Gitarre,
Sebastian Steinberg von Soul Coughing am Bass und Wilson am Schlagzeug, mit Beiträgen von Jenny O.
und Sara Watkins. Tench „könnte nicht glücklicher sein“, ein Zuhause für The Melancholy Season bei
Dark Horse Records gefunden zu haben, und sagt, es sei „ein Label, das mich emotional berührt. Und sie
haben die Musik von George, Cat Stevens, Joe Strummer – das sind Autoren. In dieser Gesellschaft zu
sein, ist perfekt.“

No matter how much of their filthy riches Munich’s oh-so shiny and smart glitterati are going to spend on generic pest control, they’ll never manage to exterminate SPINNEN (n.b. German for “spiders” – and also for “being bonkers” ;) Instead, SPINNEN will spread even further, they’ll form new networks, take over new corners, new spots, connect more musical dots with invisible, incendiary cobwebs.

Whereas these two SPINNEN – Sophie Neudecker (drums) and Veronica “Katta” Burnuthian (bass) – have been doing their spidery thing(s) in countless muggy, experimental corners of Munich for years (think bands such as Bombo, Uschi, Apian, The Living Object, Friends of Gas + other art ventures, tats, Schaufel & Besen Records…), the duo’s first full-length offering for Weilheim-based Alien Transistor sees them move on towards a warm kind of light – “Warmes Licht”. Inspired by Lambrini Girls, Peaches, McLusky, Amyl And The Sniffers, and all things loud and gain-heavy around their hometown, the album – obviously two body parts (A + B side), 8 legs (tracks) – is set to arrive in March 2025.

“Zusammen wachsen/Zusammen fallen,” meaning grow together/fall together feels like a fitting motto on opening track “Träume,” an initial onslaught of shouts, spiky basslines, crunchy chords, a whole lot of awesome friction in that lovely lower end. “Visionen folgen/Kämpfen und Erschaffen,” is another apt line while doing just that, fighting, creating, turning visions into soundscapes, into pure sonic fun & resistance. Putting even more pressure on the mosh pit with wordless “Wirken,” that titular warm light eventually breaks through towards the end of hypnotic “Moment”: The lyrics might talk about a calm state of mind – but these two are certainly not slowing down, not aiming for consistency, or for “making it”…

“Warm” has no drums, no message, it’s pure light, all playful organ hypnosis, paving the way for the b-side that opens with first single “Geister” (spirits/ghosts/genies): Arriving with a rough wind that immediately turns things upside down, it’s all screams and riffs, turbines and propellers – one of many moments that make you realize how bad you want to see this hi-octane duo live, how good it must feel to have them scare the shit out of your body (“Verscheuche mich aus meinem Körper”). They’re like two genies coming from the same smashed bottle, offering three wishes to those who’re lucky enough to listen (Fuzzy Noise Pop? Punk Catharsis? Rrriot Krautsound?).

Following a quick melancholy breather (“Lichter”), things once again get restless as they rush towards the punk finale via slow-burning demolisher anthem “Ermüdend”/“Immer wieder,” only to unleash one last battle cry, one last middle finger made of light and noise to the heated room (“Mäuse”) they’ve long taken over.

It’s certainly no coincidence that a certain square/fine/upstanding citizen named Margit O. gave Munich’s Bürgerpark Oberföhring a scathing 1-star review on Google Maps exactly four years ago – at the very moment that Sophie and Katta first met just there, which eventually lead to the formation of SPINNEN. The reason for O.’s negative rating: “Too loud”.

’之 / OF is a word that can be used as a preposition to express the relationship between a part and a whole. It is an unfinished tone, a broken sentence, a start and a whole. It is sustainable, full of potentials and longings.’’

London based performance and sound artist Li Yilei shared an experience familiar to many migrants during the past year of COVID-19 chaos. With their UK visa set to expire, and family back in China, Li made a last-minute dash to return to their nation of birth. Able to board one of the last few flights to China during the initial turmoil of the coronavirus outbreak, Li made it back to Shanghai for a two-week stint in a quarantine hotel.

Though Li had already begun creating OF, the reality of the pandemic began to seep into the recordings. Each of the 12 tracks is a study in horology, using metaphorical sound transcriptions and atmospheric extractions to focus on the temporal relationship between experience and surroundings. Li’s awareness of their own understanding of time became increasingly heightened during quarantine and the emotional involvement found within these new realities informed many of the sounds created.

‘’I tried to portray each song as a short, scattered poem - a moment that I captured to represent each hour.’’

Composed using analogue synthesisers, vocal samples, field recordings and string instruments such as the violin and guqin, Li indulges in moments of grief, panic, healing, cessation, melancholy, vastness, hope, joy and emptiness as they explore the acoustic relations between humans and the many forces of nature.

The art of the Song Dynasty, with its ancient traditions of poetry and timekeeping, were also great sources of inspiration for the album - whilst paintings from the period, specifically those of flowers and birds, are common themes throughout the tracks. Indeed, it is within the vastness of time that the album artwork comes to relevance. The eighth emperor of the Song Dynasty, Huizong, was a revered artist and a scene from his work ‘Finches and Bamboo’ adorns the album cover.

The music of the Asgard season embodies an epic spirit reminiscent of Norse mythology, intertwining gods and legends.

Hyôga answers Saori's call, alarmed by an imminent danger. Before he can act, however, Saori is attacked by a divine warrior from Asgard, acting under the orders of Hilda of Polaris. Athena then travels to Asgard, setting the stage for a confrontation. To save humanity, she halts the melting of the ice, but only for half a day. During this brief window, Seiya and his companions face off against the seven divine warriors of Asgard to retrieve the Odin sapphires and free Hilda from the Nibelungen ring.

This vinyl adapts the second arc of the series, the Asgard arc, which is original to the anime and does not appear in the manga.
Melancholy, suspense, menace, sadness, hope, epicness—these are just some of the words that could describe the myriad sensations and emotions evoked by the great Seiji Yokoyama's music, enough to give chills to the most devoted fans of the series.

On his third album as Etelin, Alex Cobb explores the intricacies of separation and belonging using field recordings and electronics, reconfiguring the dividing line between what is artificial and natural in the process. Maintaining a sense of playful reverence and lurking melancholy in its glitchy pastoralism, Patio User Manual hums with a meticulous and singular energy. From the loops and static pulses of "The Chemistry of Cobalt" to the tension and release of "Electrical Sailing," the listener is pulled into a sound world at once ambivalent and radiant, reaching its denouement in the lovely melody that closes the final track, "Picnic at Gas Station Park". Although the album might bring to mind the nuanced and imaginative ambient music published by labels such as Mille Plateaux, Sonig, and Silent Records in the 1990s, it is, in the end, a world of its own and very much of today. The patio as a stage for alienated life, pyrrhic in its isolation, deceptive in its promise of distinction. Orientation as disorientation, often unseen inside the frame but felt in the bones. What is out there, anyway, other than the thing we fear the most?



"Another day of weird weather and screens. What type of perfume did Philip Johnson wear when he designed Glass House? Is it actually possible to flee to the country when you’ve internalized a lifetime of intellectualized urban living? When you buy a DIY patio kit, you get instructions for how best to embed concrete or brick or flagstone into the natural world. The patio will make you enjoy your environment more. It will become yours. You can stand on it and think “this is Mine.” The structuralists talked about the importance of fixed camera position, but didn’t properly interrogate it because to do so would be impossible. It’s hard to believe that it really wasn’t long ago that computer music seemed exciting, novel, even radical. We’re now thoroughly estranged from eating what’s in season. Walking around the woods in southern Ohio in spring, I thought about the curious imperative of the patio, how my kids get excited about picking oyster mushrooms, the dynamics of switched capacitor filters, and how adequacy is tethered to doubt." - AC, May 2024

Born and raised in Argentina, Morita Vargas is an experimental artist and producer based in Buenos Aires. She manipulates her voice through reverbs, delays and whispers, singing in a self-invented 'language'. The sound of Morita’s voice is a portal into her thriving, dreamlike world brimming, shimmering and beating with unrefined natural sensations which stimulate something primordial yet strangely contemporary.

As far back as 2014 she began work on her first productions - early sketches which later became the basis for ‘8’. It all started off as voice memos on her phone (recorded while roaming the streets and riding the trains of Greater Buenos Aires). Later on, Morita introduced various instruments into her vision: kalimba, harmonica, keyboard, flute, tambourine, chajchas, and cajón. Composed and performed from that period until its original release in 2018, ’8’ features 10 original voice-led compositions that in scope recall evocative portraits of synthesized landscapes and rainforests, attuned to a vibrant modern pulse and enchanting vocals. Morita Vargas “8” has achieved a kind of polyphonic soundscape which evokes unfamiliar realities through voyages within and between the realms of ambient and experimental music.

In numerology the number 8 symbolizes the transition between heaven and earth, the illumination of our infinite capacity for various metamorphoses. Tackling ideas of transformation, mutation, cyclical processes, death, creation, melancholy, and joy, the album you are holding is a monumental and deeply personal statement. You are invited to walk barefoot down the mystical path and indulge in the process of spiritual expulsion and renewal that is ‘8’. The path lies along the route of infinite meanings, somewhere on the border between dream and reality.

Come Ahead ist das 12. Album von Primal Scream. 11 neue Songs, mit denen Bobby Gillespie sich darauf
vorbereitet, einige der persönlichsten Songs der Bandkarriere zu veröffentlichen.
Der Songwriting-Prozess für Come Ahead begann 2019. Zu diesem Zeitpunkt hatte Bobby Gillespie noch
keine Ahnung, ob er noch einmal ein Album von Primal Scream machen würde. Zum ersten Mal kamen
die Texte vor der Musik. Die Geschichte kam zuerst. Bobby schrieb allein, mit einer Akustikgitarre. Die
Ideen flossen schnell, in langen Inspirationsschüben. Dieser Prozess, zusammen mit der Ermutigung durch
Produzent David Holmes, bot einen neuen Einstieg. In Zusammenarbeit mit Holmes und Primal ScreamGitarrist Andrew Innes wurden die Come Ahead-Sessions in Belfast, London und Los Angeles durchgeführt.
„Ich bin sehr aufgeregt über dieses Album, so als würde man seine erste Platte machen. Wenn es ein
Gesamtthema für Come Ahead gäbe, wäre es vielleicht ein Konflikt, ob innerlich oder äußerlich. Der Titel
ist ein Begriff aus Glasgow. Wenn jemand droht, mit dir zu kämpfen, sagst du: ‚Komm schon!‘ Es erinnert
an den unbezwingbaren Geist der Glasgower, und das Album selbst vermittelt diese aggressive Haltung und
Zuversicht. Sie haben da oben ein Wort dafür: gallus. ‚Come Ahead‘ ist auch ein ziemlich frecher Titel.“
Bobby Gillespie

Wilurarrakutu is the brilliant debut from Papunya-based artist Keanu Nelson, an intimate exercise in musical storytelling and reflection. The album's eight tracks, sung in both Papunya Luritja and English, are verses of prose and poetry pulled directly from Nelson's notebooks and set to minimalist, DIY electronic arrangements.The evocative musical backdrops_featuring Casio keyboards, drum machines, and subtle synth flourishes_were created in collaborative sessions between Nelson and Sydney producer Yuta Matsumura. The two met by chance on Matsumura's visit to Papunya last year. Their impromptu jam sessions form the foundation for Wilurarrakutu's low-key sonic palette, influenced in parts by Papunya's strong local gospel music scene as well as the reggae beats often passed around the remote community via USB sticks and mobile phone transfers.Over these soundscapes, Nelson sings of family, friends, heritage, and culture, with a tone that balances joy and melancholy. They're themes and emotions that also echo through his work as a painter at the Papunya Tjupi Arts Centre. In this way, Wilurarrakutu becomes an extension of his art practice - a graceful audio portrait of a place that evokes the resonance of home.

Homer Steinweiss has an incredibly storied career in music that started when he was just a teenager. He's drummed for nearly every "retro soul" group that mattered and his distinctive stickwork helped blend the raw-but-receptive soul sound back into the mainstream via the likes of Amy Winehouse & Sharon Jones. He's now one of the most in demand drummers in the world, playing with Jonas Brothers, Clairo, Solange, Adele, and Bruno Mars to name a few.

With his debut solo release Ensatina, Homer is stepping to the forefront as both musician and producer. His new record is a re­ection of who he is now and a testament to how struggle often brings about a needed change. In 2020 Homer had to reckon with considerable emotional turbulence; at the same time that his band Holy Hive broke up, a personal relationship of 20+ years fell apart putting Homer in an uncertain place mentally. The fallout was signi‑cant enough for him to seek professional help. "I was going through these super manic highs and then very depressive lows," Homer describes. "And being in all that, it's just so tough to imagine that the other side is there, that it'll be ok." But, with time, professional help, and support from friends and family, Homer made it through and has been forever changed. This album is a product of that period of his life. The ‑rst song from these sessions, "Now That It's Over" perfectly sums up Homer's triumph through those tough times. It's a song of changing perspective and contemplation with haunting vocals from Hether and Flikka. "Paul (Castelluzzo_ aka, Hether), as a friend, saw me through these highs and lows," Homer points out. "I only had the one line, 'Now that it's over, I'm alright,' but he felt that lyric so much that he wrote all these sections and lyrics and basically completed the song. It was like he was writing to me." Hether also features on album standouts "Deep Sea", a modern love song, "Start Select", a juxtaposition of inspiration and melancholy, and "Forever and Ever and Ever and Ever" which is an incredible contemporary take on the B side soul ballad. Homer uses his innate gift for bringing seemingly opposing energies together on "Racecar Driver", pairing the vocals of Hether & long time friend and collaborator KIRBY to make a genre challenging banger. KIRBY also graces the album opener "Rollin'", an airy, warm-weather invoking song that her raspy voice perfectly compliments. He puts his drumming front and center on "So Get Up!", a bottom heavy infectious track that MINOVA's vocals turn into an instant hit that is sure to smash speakers. On "Wishing Well" & "Hide It Behind the Light I'm Shining Through" Homer is joined by girl named GOLDEN, who's unique voice effortlessly ‑nds the pocket in each tune. The man on trumpet, and fellow Big Crown label mate Dave Guy, puts his incomparable playing on the album closer "Goldie" which Homer says is the part of the movie where the credits roll.

Making this album was a refuge for Homer and it put him back on track. Ensatina is a glimpse into the different energies and in­uences that make Homer tick. To say he was always much more than a drummer would be an understatement, and this ‑rst solo offering is just the beginning of his next chapter.

While she was waiting for her last album 'Pripyat' to be released, Catalan composer and producer Marina Herlop was restless. She was concerned about her (by then) uncertain music career, and felt emotionally unmoored. "Some days I used to sit on the balcony of my flat to catch some sun," she explains, "I would close my eyes and start visualizing myself as a gardener, pulling out purple weeds from the soil, every bad memory or emotion I wanted to expulse being one of the plants." As the days dragged on, the fantasy deepened, and Herlop discovered that parts of the garden was withering; the energy she had been putting into the non-musical side of her life had seeped into her creative pasture and poisoned it. She knew what she needed to do to overcome the blight: plant some seeds and tend to her art to help it blossom and bloom once again. 'Nekkuja' is a place for Herlop's warmest, sweetest sentiments to rise to the surface and crack through the topsoil. She describes the record as a way for her to seek and affirm inner light, and it's undoubtedly her brightest, poppiest statement to date. The forward-thinking, experimental touches that nourished 'Pripyat' are still present, but blessed with a level of positivity that's rare to find in a scene so entranced by darkness and melancholy. Skittering fragments of ornate acoustic instrumentation provide a serene welcome to 'Busa', punctuated by precise electronic processes that shuttle the sound towards abstraction and fantasy. Herlop's voice grows over the tangle of sounds from a childish giggle into a layered, matted mantra, sounding passionate, hopeful and full of energy. The vitality spills over into 'Cosset', where she wraps powerful motifs around ricocheting beats and dramatic piano rolls. Herlop's garden opens up dramatically on 'Karada' when bucolic field recordings crack like sunlight over harp plucks and willowy vocals. Her voice seems to bend around the whooshing streams and chittering of birds as if she's singing to the manicured land itself - a utopian paradise that Herlop employs as a metaphor for the creative process. In contrast to the view that an artist is an isolated genius or an idol to be worshipped, Herlop believes that the garden helps us see the process as closer to devotion or perseverance. A gardener brings order to the wild chaos of the outdoors, collaborating with nature to arrange something vibrant and enduring. Blending familiar sounds with fanciful concepts, Herlop traces an imaginary garden, imploring us to wander and wonder. And by the album's billowing final track 'Babel', it's flowered into a flush of pruned vocal phrases and delicately groomed orchestral rushes, painted in orange, green, blue and red.

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

Well-versed in vintage vernaculars, Oakland-based producer/musician Mike Walti is about to return with his sophomore offering under the Organi moniker – as new album “Babylonia” follows 2020’s “Parlez-vous Français?,” a landmark in vibe acquisition ever since.

Wyldwood Studios is a portal. It’s a secret gateway to analog spheres. Cross the threshold and you’ll feel the difference: you can pick any ol’ time, any place, any tongue or vibe, in fact. Hit the dancefloor in 1967, feel that plushy loveseat in the early 70s. It’s a welcoming place where better, saner vibes are still within reach. Fueled, at least in part, by those long-classic 12”s on the walls – just imagine the sepia-tinted countenance of Melody Nelson alongside actual Birkin sans wig, right next to Shadow’s immortal crate diggers, forever blurred –, and channeled through ancient time travel devices such as the MCI 416B only to arrive on classic 2-inch tape (MM1000 aka Ol’ Bessy), it’s a haven for all things organic, for all things imbued with that warm élan. Built and run by Oakland’s own Mike Walti, countless artists from many different genres have felt that flair, creating sonic spheres and moving back and forth along the malleable axis that is space-time. Capturing magic.

Emerging from this unique portal back in 2020, Walti’s aka Organi’s first studio album was a stunning answer to its titular question – “Parlez-vous Français?” It was a soothing, somewhat psychedelic trip so magnétique and alluring that it immediately brought back those bits of Franglais you never knew you remembered. Whereas the debut LP indeed felt like a spontané voyage to the French Riviera ca. 1968, its follow-up “Babylonia” is so much more than linguistic confusion and ancient Akkadian Rhythms. Using that hidden portal near Alameda’s finest port to access all kinds of remote regions and sonic spheres, it’s super tight and feels, well, decent, even though, just like the ol’ Babylon, it’s full of surprising tongues and dreams, schemes and melodies.

“Where do we go from here?,” someone asks in opening “Organii-“ – all majestically cinematic boom bap, buoyant bass, sick strings. A fittingly massive opener that feels like cracking open a cold one after long weeks at work (that ecstatic “ahhhh”), it perfectly sets the tone for another half hour of pure time traveling, globe-spanning bliss. Whereas that certain prédilection pour all things French makes “La Rockette” so tempting and tantalizing (think MalMalNonBien), the sophomore album’s Berlin-based guest singer Nana Lacrima soon takes us elsewhere: title track “Babylonia” spins ever so softly, like a magic lantern, with images of dreamier Stones Throw funksters or Savath y Savalas looming over the steady flow of an arrangement that washes you clean like an ancient, unpolluted River Euphrates or Brazil’s actual Amazon. A sexy Portuguese-flavored anthem, occasional guest singer Alix Koliha also enters the scene to add yet another layer of French chic to this Brazilian landscape. Next, we’re back at the Riviera, but the “Italiano” version of it, splendido sunsets and bell towers in the distance, the ragazze laughing and shaking it up, perhaps even some Portofino Gin so you can really feel that “me ne batto il belin,” as your fingers align form some half-serious “ma che vuoi?”

Tim Maia-penned “Padre Cicero” (1970) deals with the stunning transformation of the titular hero – “De reverendo a lutador,” and what a soaring, sensual hook –, and Organi’s take on Elephant Memory’s “Old Man Willow” (now an “Old Man Waltz”) perfectly underlines what Walti’s Wyldwood endeavor is all about: Easy-Going Experimental Dream Pop, fueled by Gainsbourg, Broadcast, Stereolab, etc.

Later on, even though something seems to be tres complique in “Remembering Anna,” it all sounds carefree like a spontaneous Friday afternoon with a bottle of fine wine. Right before the outro, key album guest Yea-Ming Chen (of Yea-Ming & The Rumors) returns to the mic, adding her dark and dusky trademark timbre to melancholy anthem “Pictures Of Your Face”. Reminiscent of Nico and Trish (rip & rip), it’s a track that’s both dark and strangely propelling, hypnotic and hip-shaking.

A third generation Bay Area native, Mike Walti aka Organi has been running Wyldwood Studios in Oakland CA for some 15+ years (recording artists like Tommy Guerrero, Spelling, Why?, Latyrx, Del, Dan The Automator, and Big Freedia, to name but a few). A multi-instrumentalist who’s obviously in love with the 60s/70s, he loves to work with analog equipment (“We just love us some analog!” “Just listen to those relays purr…”). Recorded and mixed by Mike Walti at Wyldwood, “Babylonia” will be released on vinyl/digital by Alien Transistor.

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

Naoki Zushi. Perhaps best known for his stellar guitar contributions to psych folk group, Nagisa Ni Te, Zushi has had a parallel career, for several decades, slowly releasing solo albums that spotlight his exultant guitar playing. Originally released to CD only by Shinji Shibayama of Nagisa Ni Te’s Org imprint in 2018, IV has Zushi playing and writing at a peak, its six songs slowly unfurling with a kind of paradoxical understated grandeur. This is psychedelic guitar music at its most paced and considered, yet given to flights of inspiration, and in this respect, Zushi sits within a lineage of guitarists who’ve used their instrument both as textural anchor and improvisatory tool – think of figures like Phil Manzanera and Robert Fripp, but also Roy Montgomery, Liz Harris of Grouper, even Tom Verlaine on his instrumental solo albums. Like those artists, Zushi locates moments of deep emotional resonance amidst luxuriant textural and melodic exploration. Zushi’s history stretches back to the mid 1970s. While for many, he first appeared on the scene as a founding member of noise legends Hijokaidan, alongside Jojo Hiroshige, his musical contributions predate that encounter. He started out playing progressive rock and improvised music, making home recordings of when he was in high school. He was a member of Rasenkaidan (Spiral Staircase) alongside Hiroshige and Idiot (Kenichi Takayama), the group that soon mutated into Hijokaidan (Emergency Staircase). Zushi and Takayama would soon form Idiot O’Clock, in 1982; Zushi also led his own Naoki Zushi Unit, starting in 1983. But for many, Zushi’s first significant appearance on record was as a member of Shinji Shibayama’s mid-eighties psych-pop group, Hallelujahs, whose sole album was recently reissued on vinyl. That group mutated into Nagisa Ni Te, and Zushi has played a significant role as their lead guitarist for several decades. His own solo music has appeared sporadically – Paradise (1987), Phenomenal Luciferin (1998), III (2005) and IV, with a few recent, meditative offerings, For My Friends’ Sleep (2021) and Nocturnes (2022). With IV, though, Zushi achieved something remarkable, a kind of extended exploration of the time-altering properties of echoplexed, hypnotically spiralling guitar interplay. The opening ‘Mirror’, “a song about the mirror inside me,” Zushi explains, starts out as a lush psych-folk song, slow and gentle, but soon takes to the skies with a cat’s cradle of Fripp-esque guitars, before thick, droning chords sweep the song to a drowsy coda. ‘Nocturne’ weaves silver skeins of guitar melody around a cyclical chord pattern; it gathers energy and quiet intensity through insistent repetition. The rest of the album explores the nuance Zushi can draw out of simple elements, building on what ‘Mirror’ and ‘Nocturne’ offer – the profundity of a chord change; the melancholy of a few quietly sighed words; the exhilaration of a guitar solo bursting out of the speakers; the subtle shifts in emotional register offered by tone and touch. Throughout, there’s something quiet, yet ineffable, shading the contours of the songs, such that it makes perfect sense when Zushi says, “What I want to express through music may be ‘sense of mystery’.” A few of the songs had their basic parts recorded at LM Studio and Studio Nemu with Shibayama and Masako Takeda joining on bass and drums, respectively; much of the album, however, was tracked at Zushi’s home studio. That seems appropriate for a collection of songs that are expansive in their intimacy. Asked what drove the sessions, Zushi answers, “I thought I’d make IV an album that particularly focuses on the guitar play.” And focus it does, as Zushi’s sky-scraping, soaring, elemental tone is front and centre throughout. But these are no guitar heroics; rather, Zushi uses the guitar as conduit and diviner, a tool for spirit location, and IV is his most eloquent expression yet of such singular magic.