Suche:memory boy

Sugar Honey Iced Tea! is the highly anticipated debut album from musclecars, set for a May 2024 release on BBE Music. Having already established their presence in the club scene, from the joyous atmosphere of their Coloring Lessons parties to their residency at Nowadays in NYC, and with genre-bending performances worldwide, musclecars are eager to unveil this new world they've intentionally crafted. This forthcoming album comprises 13 tracks that sonically come together to offer a profound lens into the Afro-American experience. Themes range from joy, to loss, intimacy, helplessness, perseverance, and all the facets that lie in between. From the very first tune, musclecars set the tone with an exploration of afro-dystopia, carrying listeners through the entire album whilst creating imaginary futures born out of self-preservation and self-discovery. Through their practice of sonic storytelling, native New Yorkers Brandon Weems and Craig Handfield use this album to speak to the nuances of their daily lives and their environment. Join them on this musical journey as they delve into a collection that captures the essence of the black experience with authenticity, emotion, and rhythm. This album stands as one of their favorite bodies of work in recent memory, and they're so excited to share it with you.

"The winding flight path of Torn Hawk lands at 'Trustfall', a hilarious and poignant spoken work of rewarding density. It’s almost 34 minutes of Luke talking— talking over, against, and to himself, with sporadic, slyly deployed SFX and quotes of his own music, using a childhood memory as a generative node for a funny and emotional tale of transformation.

Luke Wyatt/Torn Hawk has been pushing more into speech-focused work in the last few years, using his NTS residency as an R&D space. His 2022 album “Toxic Sincerity” featured speech pieces of newly raw intimacy, and a cassette for Cav Empt saw a longer-form exploration of these efforts. Honed from a 2023 performance at NYC’s Issue Project Room, “Trustfall” is where all this talk has been heading.

It’s branching allusions— to the ’86 Mets, WIlliam Rehnquist, Boy Scout regalia and behavioral weirdness, etc etc— take us on a wild but strangely cohesive, funny-sad path, which finally points at the deeply neccessary and spiritual utility of self-expression."

Malka Tuti is proud to present the solo debut EP by mister Andrei Rusu, 
 one half of Khidja.

After a series of stellar remixes in the past year to Cosmo Vitelli (on Im a Cliché), Dadalus & Bikarus, Santaka & Nic Arizona, Rusu is finally ready to present his own original solo materials to the world.


Ahead of a full LP planned on MT for later this year, Rusu is presenting us with 2 fresh new tracks. The A-side is a 120bpm dirty and distorted super- trippy banger for the biggest floors and the darkest rooms.

On the B-side Rusu collaborates with an artist known to the followers of the label - Decha, who contributes her signature expressive vocals on this half time industrial dub track. This time however, the vocals run through the hands of Rusu who soaks them with distortion and even more punk attitude, almost echoing the energies of the late Genesis P-Orridge.

The release includes 2 remixes by a couple of master remixers who also happen to be part of our extended family. 


Remixing the title track, and off the success of his 2 incredible albums
released on 2023 (Music From Memory & Offen), Philipp Otterbach supplies a remix for the books, channeling the original track’s intensity through oceans of reverb, whimsical samples and addictive trippy rhythms.
For the Hedesch Remix we’ve asked one of our favourite remixers out there aka Black Merlin to contribute his cut and boy he didn’t disappoint (does he ever?)


Black Merlin supplied us with a long and addictive psychedelic synthetic and very dubby journey for the b-side.

Daniel Land's new album, "Out of Season", is his most ambitious record to date, a series of reflections on history, memory, and post-Brexit Britain, which was inspired by his return to the landscapes of his youth – the rugged, underpopulated west coast of Somerset. The album was written and partly recorded in Daniel’s studio in a static caravan, overlooking the coast, during the period when the UK was tearing itself apart over its relationship to Europe. "I didn't set out to write about Brexit", Daniel says, "I have a kind of horror of political music. But I couldn’t escape the atmosphere of the time – this strange, distorted version of ‘Englishness’ in the national psyche. I’ve always been interested in memory and nostalgia; Brexit illustrates the dangers of taking seductive, possibly false memories at face value”. Songs like “White Chalk”, “Island of Ghosts”, and the album’s title track, represent a series of attempts to reclaim an older, more peculiar idea of England which, Daniel says has been “Lost in the nationalist mythmaking of the past decades” – the island of misfits and outsiders exemplified by the works of Derek Jarman, for example, whom Daniel was rediscovering while working on the album. “I must have read 'Modern Nature' ten times over the years”, Daniel says. “What I love about Jarman is that he had a deep, abiding love for England, but it was a very complicated, critical and a very queer kind of love. That was very much my mood, going into the making of this album”. Like Jarman’s work, "Out of Season" probes national identity whilst also displaying resolutely queer themes throughout. Daniel’s voice – once described by The Guardian as "The spawn of Elizabeth Fraser and Anthony Hegarty” – is less heavily reverbed than before, bringing to the fore his often-confessional lyrics, inspired by the frankness of modern queer poets like Andrew McMillan, Seán Hewitt, and Ocean Vuong. A lyrical highlight is the gorgeous “Southern Soul”, a deceptively straightforward recounting of a decades-old hookup with a closeted guy from his hometown which, Daniel says, “Serves as a metaphor for everything I’m talking about in the album”. And in keeping with the album’s nods to the heroes of gay literature, Daniel’s self-styling of the album as a “Dream Pop Album on National Themes” deliberately references the full title of Tony Kushner’s era-defining play "Angels in America", whose central character is namechecked in the hook-laden “Lemon Boy” – a song which must surely stand as Daniel’s most deliciously pop moment yet. Lauded by Mark Radcliffe, Guy Garvey, Tom Robinson, and many others, Daniel Land makes music that, in the words of BBC Radio 1, "You can't help but think the late John Peel would have loved".

Sasu Ripatti's complete "Dancefloor Classics" series. Music for imaginary dancefloors, released on Ripatti's own label Rajaton.

”Look up, into the light” she said, while the camera shutter clicked. ”Like this? Does it look holy?” His neck felt stiff. Her reply: ”Yes, just like that. What do you mean holy? Like religious? ”No, more like trying to look very far, somewhere beyond what we can see.” ”Okay, stand still, I’m going to come close to you now. The light hits your face great.” click, click, click.
He noticed her fingernails. They were not polished. Natural. Even somewhat rugged, as if something wore out the fingers slightly. What had these hands held besides the camera? What made the edges of her fingernails drift off?
He thought it’s weird to look straight into the camera. The photographer had closed her left eye, the one not looking into the lens. Then it opened, she looked up, perusing the surroundings, then she closed her eye again, then looked up, closed, looking up, very quickly. It all seemed very professional. Maybe she calculated the light, making sure it’s close to perfect. ”What will these photos look like?” – the thought popped into his head briefly. It was liberating to think it wouldn’t matter.
”What’s that song playing?” he asked. ”Wait a sec, Ol’ Dirty Bastard?” she replied. ”Oh yeah, right. But the sample?” ”Hey, could you look up again, like that. No, lower.”
New directions: ”Look out from the window, turn left.” ”My left or yours?” ”Yours, I always try to think from the direction of my model.” How professional! This is a good shoot, so natural. Should I worry about how the photos look like? No, I don’t want to. His thoughts bounced around. What would the story be like? It’s a big newspaper, everyone will read it. Maybe someone drinks coffee and eats a stroopwafel while they do it. Will they place the waffle on top of the mug for a brief while, so that it gets hot and the syrup melts a little? Then it feels wet, and you can bend the cookie.
She broke his train of thought off midway through: ”Now turn right, but look left, and slightly up, but don’t turn your face right.” ”Umm, like this? Sounds like a set of pilates instructions.” she laughed ”You do pilates?” ”Yeah, it’s hard sometimes. Have you tried?” ”No”, she said. ”I’m not good for sports that are done in groups.” ”Yeah, but in pilates you can just be inside your mind, drowning in your private thoughts.”
”What are you thinking in pilates?” she asked, taking more photos. ”Well, mostly just which way is right. And which left.” click, click.

Q&A with Sasu Ripatti:

1) Tell us something about the EP series ”Dancefloor Classics”, what’s the idea and what can we expect?

I’ve been slowly writing these sort of dance music pieces and finally curated them together for a conceptual release. I like to create music for a dancefloor that exists only in my imagination and doesn’t try to suck up to the standardized reality.

2) Your vinyl format is 10” which is quite special (as opposed to LP / 12”). Why did you choose it?

It’s my favourite format, absolutely. The size is perfect, and you can make it sound really good @ 45 rpm. And you still can make great artwork.

3) You seem interested in sampling/repurposing, what does it mean to you as an artist to approach something already existing from a new angle? How does the source material inform you about the approach to take?

I guess i could flip it around and just say I’ve outgrown synths or electronic sounds to a great extend, and having gotten rid off all my synths already good while ago I’ve used samples as my main source material a lot. It’s obvious on this series that i’ve sampled existing music, but I also sample instruments and things in the studio and resample my own library that I have built over the years, it’s quite large. To me the end result matters, not so much how I get there. Once I have something on my keyboard and play around, it’s all an instrument, though with sampling other music it becomes a really interesting and complex one as you’re possibly playing rhythm, but also harmonic content and maybe hooks or whatever, all at once.
I never sample premeditadedly, like listening to records and looking for that mindblowing 3 sec part. I just throw the cards in the air and see what lands where, just full intuition and hopefully zero mind involved, playing tons of stuff, trying things, just recording hours of stuff. Then comes the interesting part to listen to hours of mostly crazy stuff and finding that mindblowing 3 sec part.

4) What is your relationship with the dancefloor (conceptually and/or in experiences / as a performer)?

Very complicated. I have never really felt comfortable on a dancefloor but have always wanted to. There’s something in club music, in theory, that really speaks to me. It has never really materialized for me – speaking mainly from a performer’s point of view who goes to check on a dancefloor for a moment after a concert. I never have DJ’d or felt much interest towards it. But again, I love the idea and concept of DJing. As well as producing music for imaginary DJs. Lately, as in the past 10+ years, I haven’t even performed in any sort of club spaces. So my relationship to the dancefloor is quite removed and reduced, but there’s quite a bit of passion and interest left.

All tracks composed and produced by Sasu Ripatti.
Artwork & photography by Marc Hohmann.
Mastering by Stephan Mathieu for Schwebung Mastering.
Vinyl cut by SST Brueggemann.
Publishing by WARP Music Ltd.

'Deli Daydreams' is a conceptual LP based around a week in the life of a Deli worker. Varying styles from the spoken word tour de force introduction of 'White Noise' to the melancholic vibes of 'Eviction Notice'.

With Scream If You Don’t Exist, Richie Culver metamorphoses from outsider musician to underground fixture, feeling his way from the fringes towards a growing community of musicians that have gravitated towards his singular sound world. Building upon the stark catharsis of his previous dispatches, on his sophomore album the artist draws from grimdark drone, industrial noise, experimental hip-hop and UK rave to map out a space for himself, caught between genre and discipline. While on his debut, I Was Born By The Sea, Culver took a last glimpse back at his grey, salt-flecked past while struggling towards somewhere brighter, here, he documents the process of finding fresh waters, parsing through the complexity of inhabiting a more open and optimistic place while contending with the weight of his resolve, staring hard won self-acceptance in the face. The album’s title speaks to this creative and emotional work, serving both as the foundational paradox from which the artist’s new discordant sound emerges and as a call to action, a defiant cry in the face of existential angst.

Part of this process involves visiting familiar territory with renewed focus. Macabre opener ‘Hottest Day Of The Year’ signals an unpleasant memory with crow caw, queasy, gas leak ambience and dental drill whir as Culver recalls a life lived in nihilism: “Everything is just something that happened / Reductionism, muscles spasms, a mother’s first contraction.” Yet, on Scream If You Don’t Exist, Culver’s irresistible formula for ragged machine poetry is shot through with palpable urgency. No longer listless and despairing, he finds new intricacies for these compositions, tracing a stark interplay between crushing bass excavations and penetrating vocal clarity, a contrast picked out in the delicate threads of rhythmic pulse suggesting themselves in the blunt pressure and skittering creep of ‘Weakness’, on which Culver offers up vulnerability as a tentative solution to self-described emotional constipation: “Please do / Do take my kindness for weakness / For I am weak / And that is ok.” The amniotic soundscape of ‘YOLO (then u die)’ gives way to depth charge drone and unnerving machinic improvisations, like a noise show heard from deep in the Mariana trench, while on ‘Underground Flower’ the low-end fog lifts to reveal a brighter, colder scene. “Love me for who I could be / Not who I am,” he pleads, tending gently to his own tenacious bud.

Scream If You Don’t Exist gives us a glimpse of this flower in bloom. On the album’s cursed self-help tape title track stuttering loops of off-kilter keys and childlike repetition make light of the very real risk of disappearing all-together, a nervous breakdown rendered as a malfunctioning nursery rhyme. Paranoiac anthem ‘Say 4 Sure’ introduces bit-crushed boom-bap stomp, as though hammered out on a water-logged Game Boy, swarms of loose-wire noise sparking up against guttural grunts and ragged exhalations, while ‘On The Top’ enacts a seance for the hardcore spirit, with loops of rave piano and hiccuping vocal chops pirouetting through knackered samples, air raid sirens and the ghostly crash of breakbeat cymbals. As though in response to the solitary nature of much of his musical exploration, this time, the artist invites other voices into the world of Scream If You Don’t Exist. On ‘Swollen’, the unflinching, brimstone prophecy of Billy Woods sounds clear through an expanse of spirallic bass, preaching the same frayed gospel as Culver when he issues the quietly devastating contemporary diagnosis: “Computer broke but it still works for now / That’s the best you can say for most of us anyhow,” while another fearless correspondent from the fringes, Moor Mother, brings earthbound heft to the ambient drift and obliterating barrage of ‘Restaurants,’ teasing out meaning with elongated intonation and pitch-shifted intensity.

It’s during the album’s most meditative moments that we might recognise this space Culver has found for himself for what it really is. ‘OMG They’re Gone’ follows a chopped and slowed monologue from Culver’s wife, who works as a death doula, reflecting on her own experiences with grief and the reality of living within a culture both terrified and ignorant of the process. Floating over glistening ebb, etherised croons and luminous chimes, her words stand as a prescient reminder of the power of ephemerality. Just as Culver flourishes in imperfection, here we can find enormous strength in transcience. But it’s with ‘Just Jump In,’ which unfurls like a buoyant counterpart to the sparkling oil rigs of ‘I was born by the sea’, that Culver illuminates the hopeful waters we realise we’ve been making our steady way towards. “I know now / That you loved me,” he admits, a revelation a lifetime in the making. Through the rawest reflection Culver has found a way forward, driven by an optimism drawn from a resolve to be better, to love and be loved, an admission to weakness and the discovery of a new kind of strength. “Don’t test the water,” he reassures us and himself, “just jump in.”

Scream If You Don’t Exist will be released in November 2023 by Participant, on limited edition vinyl, and digital download . The release will be accompanied by a series of films directed by Mau Morgo, Josiane M.H Pozi, William Markarian-Martin, Simon Bus, and Bruxism.

Jamie Lenman made his name as the singer, guitarist and songwriter in alt rock outfit Reuben, who toured and released relentlessly during the 2000s as part of the so-called “British post-hardcore renaissance” along with bands like Hundred Reasons, Biffy Clyro and Frank Turner’s Million Dead.
After the band’s dissolution in 2008, Lenman took a long break from music only to return in 2013 with the colossal double album ‘Muscle Memory’, combining elements of jazz, folk and thrash. Over the next ten years he continued to tour with various backing bands and released a string of records via indie label Big Scary Monsters, including the acclaimed ‘Devolver’ in 2017 and career highlight ‘The Atheist’ in 2022.
He continues to balance his musical efforts with his work as a journalist and illustrator for publications such as The Guardian, Rocksound and Doctor Who Magazine. He lives in Surrey, UK.

'Dreamer Awake' is the fifth album from Rachel Sermanni, her first for
Navigator Records (Katherine Priddy, Kitty Macfarlane, Sam Kelly & The
Lost Boys, Bellowhead)
Hailing from the Scottish highlands, Sermanni is an enchanting singer-songwriter,
whose performance and lyrics draw from a deep well of mysticism, dreams,
nature and the simple-complex experience of being human; a contemporary folk
musician influenced by a wealth of genres including jazz, rock, old- time and
traditional.
'Dreamer Awake,' was recorded at Middle Farm Studios, Devon with co-producer,
Peter Miles. Recording live to tape with people that, "most of the time, are jazz
improvisers," the sessions were conducted with an almost Lynchian approach,
with Sermanni choosing "to flow through the experience like a dream". The result
is an album that captures the intimacy of the room, and the immediacy of these
songs that transform thought, memory and emotion into such wondrous light.
Channelling the metamorphic experience of becoming a mother, and processing
the demise of a long-term relationship, Sermanni dove deep into her psyche and
returned with songs that have a sharpness, an acuity of feeling, and that capture
the fluidity of our mind and the depth of our emotional experience.
Rightly described by critics as a "Folk noir gem" (MOJO), "Stately, poetic" (CLASH)
and "Folk of the Highest Order" (Time Out), Rachel Sermanni has been making
music for over a decade and has developed her artistic voice over her many
releases, each time pushing boundaries and experimenting with different musical
textures while maintaining the raw emotional connection, to herself and others,
that defines her music.
Rachel Sermanni has toured the globe, played alongside artists such as Mumford
& Sons, Fink, Ron Sexsmith, John Grant, The Staves, Karine Polwart, The Maes
and many more at venues and festivals all over, most recently playing with Charlie
Cunningham. She also runs a songwriting workshop called Cultivating A Creative
Life and her podcast, Rachel Sermanni's Finger That Points To The Moon,
similarly explores her relationship to creativity and inspiration, with the hope that
it will help point in the direction of truth for herself and those listening

Boy Harsher, Portishead, Thom Yorke, Radiohead, Beak>, ERAAS, SUUNS. Over the past seven years, Public Memory's distinctive use of analog synthesizers, electronic beats mixed with organic percussion, lo-fi sound design, and gritty ambience has created a singularly eerie and shadowy world. The first seconds of Public Memory's new record, Elegiac Beat, thrust us immediately into that world. We are in media res, with a feeling of sudden movement from a sensible point A to B. Given some time however, we realize that there is something askew–a bit of brightness here, some shadows pushed aside, some jazz and funk amongst the dub and Krautrock. This is an unfamiliar, ambiguous mood that pushes Public Memory towards new ground. We still drift past the clouded lights and hollowed out buildings of previous albums, but with an occasional bounce in our step now, a bit of golden haze around the edges. First single "Savage Grin" cements this clearly. The track has a jazzy, trip-hop flavor, albeit filtered through Public Memory's narcotic, hazy lens. We could be in a hotel lounge in the alps somewhere on holiday, or out of time in a majestic, sparkling ballroom. But we still have the feeling of being haunted, or perhaps even hunted in some way. This feeling intensifies and comes to a head towards the ever-darkening end of the track, leading directly into "Afterimage", in which someone almost imperceptibly sings "I hear them coming" in a twisted, auto-tuned flail. Second single "7 Floor" begins with flanged drums and damaged synthesizer stabs, evoking a kind of apparition floating towards us in the mist. As the track moves on there is, similarly to "Savage Grin", a contrast in feeling between a cold exterior roaming and an interior, warmer, human place. This time however, we move from the colder to the warmer as the synths from the track's beginning make way for a Rhodes-style organ and backing string synth, infusing an unexpected sense of peace. But like "Savage Grin", the track moves to its end through an in-between place beyond the haze. Faded and distant synthesizers meld with voices–human, or perhaps otherwise–that beckon us, or perhaps warn us. We can't be sure which. Third single "Far End Of The Courtyard" brings us closest to classic Public Memory territory with hip-hop beats, chopped and screwed samples, lo-fi ambience, and ghostly electric pianos complementing the vocals. There is darkness, perhaps more here than in the previous two singles, but with a crucial moment of uplifting lightness so subtle it may be missed upon first listen. As an inverse to both "Savage Grin" and "7 Floor" we end with brightness, the jazzier side of the record pushed to the forefront as the track fades away on that golden haze. In the end though, the haze may be just that: a vapor, a mist, a slight dusting of some other world on top of the degraded one Public Memory so effectively portrays. Elegiac Beat is between two places, and as it straddles the line between the two, we are uncertain if the light it brings shines directly from the sun, or if it is dimly reflected through that majestic ballroom world. For fans of 1990s Bristol trip hop, coldwave, and Thom Yorke's The Eraser

Mirai is a 2018 Japanese animated adventure fantasy comedy film written and directed by Mamoru Hosoda and produced by Studio Chizu (known for Belle, Wolf Children and The Boy and the Beast). The film stars the voices of Moka Kamishiraishi, Haru Kuroki and Gen Hoshino a.o. It was met with critical acclaim and became nominated for an Academy Award in 2019 for Best Animated Feature Film. Additionally, the movie received an Annie Award in the same year.

Mirai follows the story of a four-year-old boy named Kun whose world is turned upside down when he meets his new baby sister. After venturing into a magical garden, Kun encounters strange guests from the past and future, including his sister Mirai, as a teenager. Together, Kun and teenage Mirai go on a journey through time and space, uncovering their family's incredible story.

The soundtrack for the film was written by Masakatsu Takagi, who had previously scored Hosoda's Wolf Children and The Boy and the Beast. His work for Studio Chizu has been praised for its magical and whimsical atmosphere. For Mirai specifically, this dreamy aesthetic was mixed with a contemporary sound and made to be simple in tone and be reflective of family.

Codek is the brainchild of Jean-Marie Salaun who grew up in Paris influenced by the folklore of the inner city. In 1978 he joined art rock group SpionS and collaborated with Robin Scott (M 'Pop Music'). He began working as Codek, a play on the brand name Kodak with the 'Me Me Me' single released in 1980. In 1981 the 'Tam Tam'/'Closer' single was released on West African Music, a tiny label from the Ivory Coast, and re-released a year later by Island Records in the UK (where the B-side was re-named 'Tim Toum'). 'Tam Tam' was inspired by Burundi drummers playing in the plaza in front of Beaubourg where the song was recorded. Jean-Marie enlisted one of the drummers from the circle, Georges Atta Dikalo, to lay down percussion for the song. The female singers were from the French Caribbean and added falsetto tribal chants. Claude Arto achieved complex rhythmic patterns using a modular synthesizer and heavy processing. Jean-Marie recorded himself beating his chest for the thump noises. The recording of spanned over two years. They started on 16-track in Studio d'Auteuil, where Jean-Marie blew the woofers, before resuming in Studio Centre Georges Pompidou with an added 8-track recorder.

In 2017 we reissued the 'Tam Tam'/ 'Closer' single and shortly after the 24-track master tapes were discovered in Paris by original engineer Gérard Chiron. We arranged for graphic designer Maycec to pick up the tapes and immediately began to think of remixers for this project. First up is producer and DJ Daniele Baldelli who gave the original single a spiritual home in the Cosmic 80s scene of Italy. Here he's teamed up with Marco Dionigi for two remixes. Remix A goes full on funky disco baseline while Remix B a more balearic affair. We remember Justin sharing a memory of DJing the original Island Records promo at the Mudd Club in 1981 so we had to ask him for remix. He teamed up with his Whatever/Whatever production partner Bryan Mette and delivered an hypnotic pulsing house remix and an extended edit. All songs have been mastered for vinyl by George Horn at Fantasy Studios in Berkeley. The jacket is new twist designed by Eloise Leigh on the 1981 edition artwork by Angela Boy, inspired by primitive electronics and African paintings.

From Alehouse to Playhouse Bjarte Eike and his barnstorming Barokksolistene capture the vital spark of Restoration London’s entertainment scene with a captivating new recording for Rubicon Classics! The Playhouse Sessions will be released on 23 September 2022 to coincide with Barokksolistene’s concert double-bill at London’s Southbank Centre.

‘A smattering of Purcell, dances from Playford’s Dancing Master, shanties, reels and ballads succumb to a nine-piece ensemble drawing on Baroque, jazz and folk styles for a no holds barred hooley of riotous improvisatory give and take,’ (BBC Music Magazine review of The Alehouse Sessions, August 2019)

London’s musicians, pushed in the 1650s, to the margins of society by order of Oliver Cromwell, found room for new forms of entertainment in city-centre taverns and alehouses. They remained there long after the restoration of the monarchy, performing sets of dances, theatre songs and bawdy ballads to audiences glad to be free from Puritan constraints on pleasure.

Norwegian violinist Bjarte Eike and his Barokksolistene have restored the spirit and substance of those long-forgotten performances with their Alehouse Sessions, hailed by The Times as ‘irresistible’ and ‘fabulously unrestrained’ by The Guardian. Five years ago the Norwegian violinist and his band scored a best-selling album with The Alehouse Sessions on Rubicon Classics. They return to the label with another compelling collection of music and words of the kind on offer more than three centuries ago at Henry Purcell’s favourite Westminster watering holes. The Playhouse Sessions, set for release on Rubicon Classics on 23 September 2022, reflects the uplifting energy and engaging emotional contrasts of Barokksolistene’s Alehouse performances.

“The album contains a sort of inner narrative that runs through the recording,” says Bjarte Eike. “It has become like a play in its own right, with each track being a small tale within a larger story.” The recording’s tracklist includes Eike’s beguiling arrangements of music from Purcell’s semi-opera The Fairy Queen and his own original compositions on words from the play on which it is based, Shakespeare’s A Midsummer Night’s Dream; popular songs and ballads such as ‘The Irish Washerwoman’, ‘I often for my Jenny strove’ and ‘The Three Ravens’; tunes from Purcell’s welcome odes and stage shows, Come ye sons of art and Dido and Aeneas among them; the ‘Willow Song’ from Shakespeare’s Othello; Eike’s own voice in Puck’s monologue from Act 5 of A Midsummer Night’s Dream; and John Dowland’s sublime air ‘Can she excuse my wrongs’.

London’s theatres were closed at the start of the English Civil War in 1642 and remained shut until the Restoration. Alehouses offered redundant musicians, actors and dancers a place to scrape a precarious living and soon became their creative refuge. “Although a few surviving theatres reopened in 1660 with the return of Charles II, there was little money around to rebuild those that had been demolished,” observes Bjarte Eike. “And a generation of musicians had already found an audience in places like the Black Horse in Aldersgate Street. So popular were their alehouse sessions that Cromwell tried to abolish them! But they outlived him and became part of Restoration musical life.” The form of a Barokksolistene Alehouse, he adds, is like a creative room. “Within its framework I can frequently refurbish the show with new contents. The Playhouse project is likewise an extension of the ever-evolving Alehouse Sessions. Together they tell the story of music and theatre in London during Cromwell’s time and after the Restoration. Of course there’s an historical context to what we do. But there’s also the practical context – which is even more important to me – of connecting with a contemporary twenty-first century audience. An Alehouse / Playhouse performance is not something for the museum; it's about music made in the present moment, just as it was in the London alehouses of Purcell’s day -- with their playhouses annexed to the rear of the beer-drinking saloons. The encounter of musicians onstage and the audience in the hall is the real magic of it. We have to fuse the audience into the action of our performance!”

The Playhouse Sessions will be launched on Friday 23 September with a late-night concert at the Purcell Room and a post-concert Alehouse Session in the foyer of the Queen Elizabeth Hall. Soprano Mary Bevan is set to join Eike and his Alehouse Boys for the first half of their Southbank Centre double-bill, offering unique interpretations of songs from Purcell shows and other hits from the late seventeenth-century London stage. “The Southbank Centre is a direct descendant of concerts given in the 1650s in the alehouses of London,” notes Eike. “These alehouses after all staged some of the world’s first public concerts. Later, after the Restoration, it became common for promoters to advertise alehouse concerts in the press and offer subscription tickets. Purcell and his fellow musicians were thus just as at home performing there as they were in the chambers of the royal court or in London’s new theatres.”

Bjarte Eike launched his Alehouse Sessions in company with like-minded musicians 15 years ago. The ensemble comprises a core of regular performers, all of whom have committed to memory a huge setlist of up to four hours of music. Typically they meet a day or so before a concert tour to share a meal and make music together; then next day, re-grouping thirty minutes before the show, they discover Eike’s select-menu for the evening. “That ensures that every show is fresh,” he notes. “I make sure we never repeat the same programme twice. It’s therefore essential to work with people who share my outlook and dare to adventure. We’re into a high-risk sport, with lots of traps and places where the unexpected appears - for good or for ill. And so the audience knows we’re vulnerable. But our skill is seen in how we re-act on the hoof to the unpredictable. That’s authenticity and honesty - and above all it’s a performance that’s genuine.”

Armed with a classical training and a background in folk music and improvisation, Bjarte Eike was drawn naturally to Early Music in all its stylistic variety. “I never really felt at home with only one genre,” he recalls. “Early Music allowed me to study profound, complicated compositions, but performing it has also opened up the chance of rebellion and uproar! Early music offers wide, multi-faceted areas of musical exploration for me. You find, for instance, links to different types of music wherever you look in seventeenth-century English repertoire. And I am fascinated by all these connections. They offer a foundation for the Alehouse Sessions and for all Barokksolistene performance more generally. Every member of the group plays, sings, dances and improvises without limitation. We’re all interested in the many different fields of being a stage performer and pushing hard at the ‘normal’ boundaries of what it means to be a classical musician.”

Urban Desire is Genya Ravan creating music on her terms after artistically successful work with producers Richard Perry, Jimmy Miller, and Jim Price, along with the three strong albums she recorded with Ten Wheel Drive. As producer of the prototypical punk band the Dead Boys and their classic single "Sonic Reducer," Ravan was an essential part of the new wave explosion of the '70s, which was a blend of punk rock and power pop. Urban Desire is the quintessential new wave album, and though it caused a stir, it has never fully been recognized as the groundbreaking work it is. A driving cover of the Supremes hit "Back in My Arms Again" has guitarists Conrad Taylor and Ritchie Fliegler fragmenting Deep Purple's "My Woman from Tokyo" riff under Ravan's brilliant New York party atmosphere. That comes right after her duet with Lou Reed, a tune called "Aye Co'lorado," one of the album's highlights written by Ravan and keyboard player Charlie Giordano. Classic girl group vocals, blues sensibilities, and the hard edge of underground rock & roll are the ingredients that propel "Jerry's Pigeons" and "Cornered," while a John Cale signature tune, "Darling, I Need You," becomes a barroom brawl -- and that's thanks to the band assembled for this: Bobby Chen on drums, Don Nossov on bass, along with the aforementioned Fliegler, Taylor, and Giordano. Ravan's harp playing pushes "Messin Around," which keeps up the intensity -- and volume. Joe Droukas, who would author the successful "Junkman" duet with Ian Hunter on Ravan's next outing, ...And I Mean It, brings the disc to a close with his third composition on Urban Desire, a tune called "Shadowboxing." Genya gets mellow with this performance, which feels like Ten Wheel Drive meets the Rolling Stones at the "Memory Motel." A bit of a different groove from the equally profound ...And I Mean It, which was released a year later. -Joe Viglione, AllMusic

Urban Desire is Genya Ravan creating music on her terms after artistically successful work with producers Richard Perry, Jimmy Miller, and Jim Price, along with the three strong albums she recorded with Ten Wheel Drive. As producer of the prototypical punk band the Dead Boys and their classic single "Sonic Reducer," Ravan was an essential part of the new wave explosion of the '70s, which was a blend of punk rock and power pop. Urban Desire is the quintessential new wave album, and though it caused a stir, it has never fully been recognized as the groundbreaking work it is. A driving cover of the Supremes hit "Back in My Arms Again" has guitarists Conrad Taylor and Ritchie Fliegler fragmenting Deep Purple's "My Woman from Tokyo" riff under Ravan's brilliant New York party atmosphere. That comes right after her duet with Lou Reed, a tune called "Aye Co'lorado," one of the album's highlights written by Ravan and keyboard player Charlie Giordano. Classic girl group vocals, blues sensibilities, and the hard edge of underground rock & roll are the ingredients that propel "Jerry's Pigeons" and "Cornered," while a John Cale signature tune, "Darling, I Need You," becomes a barroom brawl -- and that's thanks to the band assembled for this: Bobby Chen on drums, Don Nossov on bass, along with the aforementioned Fliegler, Taylor, and Giordano. Ravan's harp playing pushes "Messin Around," which keeps up the intensity -- and volume. Joe Droukas, who would author the successful "Junkman" duet with Ian Hunter on Ravan's next outing, ...And I Mean It, brings the disc to a close with his third composition on Urban Desire, a tune called "Shadowboxing." Genya gets mellow with this performance, which feels like Ten Wheel Drive meets the Rolling Stones at the "Memory Motel." A bit of a different groove from the equally profound ...And I Mean It, which was released a year later. -Joe Viglione, AllMusic

From 1989 onwards, Richard was an obsessive collector of house and techno music, frequenting legendary London record shops such as Fat Cat, Silverfish, Trax and Red Records. He took record buying trips to NewYork to find second-hand disco, house and techno 12”s, which were lying around in bargain bins. The selection for this compilation are his own personal favourites from that era.

Back then, electronic dance music was young, innocent and fun; it hadn’t been analysed, theorised and fragmented into the multi-genre industry it is today.


What you hear on this compilation reflects what he was playing at that time; joining the dots between ambient, techno, tribal house, breakbeat and early trance productions from the UK.

Much house and techno from the US, Belgium, Germany and Holland has been well documented, but some of the more obscure British productions are lesser known and need to be showcased.

Hopefully, these tracks will inspire and educate a new generation of electronic music fans who weren’t born then and also trigger some acid flashbacks for the older,ravers as they take a trip down memory lane.

Nach der Veröffentlichung der 2CD-Version des Albums Moonage Daydream im letzten Jahr, wird der Soundtrack nun am 31. März als 3LP Vinyl veröffentlicht.

"Moonage Daydream" beleuchtet das Leben und Genie von David Bowie, einem der produktivsten und einflussreichsten Künstler der jüngeren Musikgeschichte.
Auf Spielfilmlänge nimmt uns Brett Morgen mit in die Welt Bowies, erforscht anhand von großartigem, vielfältigem und nie zuvor gesehenem Filmmaterial, Live-Auftritten und Musik (Morgen sichtete vier Jahre die Archive des David Bowie Estates) seine kreative, musikalische und spirituelle Reise.
Durch den Film führt uns dabei die Erzählerstimme von David Bowie selbst.
Das Begleitalbum zu "Moonage Dream" enthält Songs aus Bowies gesamter Karriere, darunter bisher ungehörtes Material, speziell für den Film und dieses Album angefertigte Mixe und Gesprächspassagen Bowies.

Zu den Highlights des Tracklistings zählen ein bisher unveröffentlichtes Live-Medley von "The Jean Genie / Love Me Do / The Jean Genie", aufgenommen beim berühmt-berüchtigten letzten Ziggy-Stardust-Konzert im Londoner Hammersmith Odeon 1973 und mit Jeff Beck an der Gitarre. Weitere Raritäten sind eine frühe Version
des Hunky-Dory-Favoriten "Quicksand" und eine bisher unveröffentlichte Live-Version von "Rock 'n' Roll With Me", mitgeschnitten bei der legendären "Soul Tour" 1974.

Kelman Duran introduces LA’s Holodec to his Scorpio Red label with a debut album of flickering R&B torchsongs and ambient trap-soul that aches in a very special way. RIYL Dawuna, Burial, Junior Boys, MssingNo, claire rousay, Joy O, Triad God, Sampha…

The smouldering ’All Dogs Come From Wolves’ is a definitive statement by a quietly gifted artist who operates inside the long shadow of late ‘90s US R&B and the space where it intersects ambient, neo-classical, and the weightless bass interzones of contemporary UK club music. Bare boned and bathed in a dusky Californian half-light, the album’s 11 songs feel unnervingly stark yet full of tongue-tip sensuality, making a virtue of negative space and atmosphere with a lo-fi soundtrack-like quality that evokes the idea of nostalgic reflection as the route to the future; “a reminder to look to the past to remember where you’re from, to see where you’re going.”

Holodec's been assembling rugged dancefloor constructions for years now, teetering between 2-step, jungle, nu-rnb, and vaporous ambient forms, but rarely has he been as pointed or full-bodied as he is on ‘All Dogs Come From Wolves’. It's an album that can't possibly be cleaved from the place where it comes from, documenting LA's immigrant experience (Holodec is Asian-American), and finding thematic common ground with Space Afrika's "Honest Labour", absorbing prismatic reflections of footwork, rnb and hip-hop instead of trip-hop and dub techno.

Holodec croons soulfully over muted piano motifs on 'Tiles', evoking the spirit of Sampha or Dawuna, but with a gaseous glamor that's unmistakably Californian. The mood carries into 'The Wild', utilising wistful pads and saturated noise but refusing to let his music sink into the background. If you feel yourself drifting, there's inevitably a voice, a womp, or a stifled drum sound to drag you back into its presence. 'Bounce' is rhythmically heavy, but still somehow smudged around the edges; beats don't so much pump as fray, the closer you listen the more you hear it falling out of time and just out of space. It's more like a memory of neon-hued dance forms than a replication of the thing itself.

Even at the album’s rudest, the flinty jungle drums of ‘Black Market’ still remain desiccated, just out-of-reach, suggesting not telling, in a way that makes the album’s other highlights such as the vaporous R&B voice note of ‘And My Angel Dies Too’ or the shivering baroque figures of ‘Spirit’ so unusually seductive with their nuanced grasp of inference and a reserve of humility.