quête:ment

LP comes with a Side D etching in triple gatefold jacket + full album download. The Will to Live was produced by Titus Andronicus singer-songwriter Patrick Stickles and Canadian icon Howard Bilerman (Arcade Fire, Leonard Cohen, The Whole Nine Yards) at the latter’s Hotel 2 Tango recording studio in Montreal. Drawing on maximalist rock epics from Who’s Next to Hysteria, Bilerman and Stickles have crafted the richest, densest, and hardest hitting sound for Titus Andronicus yet. All at once, the record matches the sprawl and scope of the band’s most celebrated work, while also honing their ambitious attack to greater effect than ever before. “It may strike some as ironic we had to go to Canada to record our equivalent to Born in the USA,” quips Stickles, “but the pursuit of Ultimate Rock knows no borders. ”For his recent stretch of personal stability, he credits a newfound domestic bliss and steadfast mental health regimen (“Lamictal is a hell of a drug”) as well as the endurance of what has become the longest-running consistent lineup of Titus Andronicus—Liam Betson on guitar, R.J. Gordon on bass, and Chris Wilson on drums. On the crueler side of the coin, however, The Will to Live was created in large part as an attempt to process the untimely 2021 death of Matt “Money” Miller, the founding keyboardist of the band and Stickles’ closest cousin. Stickles explains: “The passing of my dearest friend forced me to recognize not only the precious and fragile nature of life, but also the interconnectivity of all life. Loved ones we have lost are really not lost at all, as they, and we still living, are all component pieces of a far larger continuous organism, which both precedes and succeeds our illusory individual selves, united through time by (you guessed it) the will to live.” “Naturally, though, our long-suffering narrator can only arrive at this conclusion through a painful and arduous odyssey through Hell itself,” he qualifies. “This is a Titus Andronicus record, after all.” When Titus Andronicus made their long-awaited return to the stage in 2021, it was to celebrate the anniversary of their landmark breakthrough The Monitor, and the act of playing that material before an ecstatic audience left the band determined to deliver an album that would reach for those same lofty heights, relying this time less on the reckless fire of youth and more on the experience and perspective at which a band only arrives with a thousand shows under their belt. Through this golden ratio, Titus Andronicus have arrived at the peak of their creative powers. From its adrenalizing opening instrumental “My Mother Is Going to Kill Me” to its wistful closing benediction “69 Stones,” The Will to Live conjures a vast landscape and sends the listener on a rocket ride from peak to vertiginous peak. Rock fans will find themselves a feast, whether they crave barn-burning rock anthems such as “(I’m) Screwed” and “All Through the Night,” rapid-fire lyrical gymnastics (“Baby Crazy”), symphonic punk throwdowns (“Dead Meat”), or an adventurous excursion into the darkness that delivers thrills as it breezes boldly past the 7 minute mark, “An Anomaly.” As if that wasn’t enough gas for the tank, The Will to Live features sterling contributions from members of the Hold Steady, Arcade Fire, and the E Street Band, as well as duets with the aforementioned Betson, former Titus Andronicus drummer Eric Harm, and Josée Caron of the Canadian rock band Partner. The album comes packaged with gorgeous triple-gatefold artwork by illustrious illustrator Nicole Rifkin, a Hieronymus Bosch–inspired triptych which mirrors the three-part structure of the narrator’s perilous voyage across the corresponding three sides of vinyl. All together, this esteemed ensemble, with Stickles and Bilerman determined and defiant at the helm, have found The Will to Live—now, the question is… will you?

SIDE A 1. My Mother is Going to Kill Me 2. (I’m) Screwed 3. I Can Not Be Satisfied 4. Bridge and Tunnel SIDE B 5. Grey Goo 6. Dead Meat 7. An Anomaly SIDE C 8. Give Me Grief 9. Baby Crazy 10. All Through the Night 11. We’re Coming Back 12. 69 Stones SIDE D Etching

THE LONG-AWAITED FULL-LENGTH RETURN OF THE US DEATH METAL PIONEERS FOR A NEW BOUT OF SUPREME SICKNESS
Since first bursting onto the death metal scene with the now genre classic Severed Survival' back in 1989 & following up with the equally revered 'Mental Funeral' album, the influential US quartet has carved an unwavering legacy over three decades as masters & purveyors of the vile sides of the extreme metal spectrum. And now, Autopsy marks its reinvigorated return, presenting the first new full-length studio opus since 2014's 'Tourniquets, Hacksaws & Graves' with Morbidity Triumphant'; a savage offering of brutal death, showing the US legends still have an unbridled hunger for the sadistic, never reluctant to step beyond the threshold of decency.'Morbidity Triumphant', the band's eighth album, is truly a dark delight for seasoned & new listeners alike, with a raw organic sound perfectly encapsulating what makes Autopsy so distinguishable among its peers, for what could easily be considered one of its strongest offerings to date.

Some people choose the pages of a diary to spill their innermost feelings
and recount their trials and tribulations - Instead, Chayse Porter has a
palace - It's this metaphorical place where I can go to express myself and
feel safe, he explains
It's this place where you can get all your secrets out in the open and feel at home.
But rather than luxuriate in his regal mental abode, Porter's latest for Earth
Libraries takes listeners on a grand tour, revealing the nooks and crannies of his
heart and mind.Recording on vintage gear and working with producer Brad Timko
redoubles that sense of intimacy, imbuing every take with a bronzy finish. € I've
always really appreciated records that opt for analog, so this one is all just raw
performance, straight to tape, € Porter says. € It gives me time to sit with each
part of the composition, to live more within the song. €
As the album rolls ever forward to its conclusion, the rough edges of the pain and
suffering have softened, and Porter has come to a sense of hopefulness. "It was
very tumultuous to put this album together and express myself openly in this way,
but at the end of the album I'm reassuring myself that there's an opportunity for
growth both personally and interpersonally, having gone through this challenging
time and coming out the other side, € Porter says. At the end of the long and
fascinating tour of Chay's Palace, Porter makes the listener feel the warmth at its
core that he himself has found.
Tracks: Purpling Dawn / Jet Lag / Nobody Wants You (More Than Me) / Penny /
Heat Lamp / Theme from Chay's Palace / Palace Doors / Pacific Inn / Purpling
Dawn Pt. 2 / Blue Star / Yoshi

This album marks the debut recording for Venezuela's Velvet label by pianist Ray Pérez and his trombone-led salsa band Los Dementes. Heavy dance numbers and the distinctive vocals of Perucho Torcat make this historic 1967 rarity a sought-after collector's item. Now the LP has been lovingly restored, mastered from the original tapes, with its original artwork intact, preserving the legacy of Los Dementes for today's generation of salsa lovers everywhere. First time reissue. Salsa pianist, vocalist, composer and arranger Ray Pérez, acquired his nickname "Loco" by being a free, independent spirit, an innovator and iconoclast who was initially branded as "crazy" for the freshness and audacity of his sound. Amazingly, he is not that well known in the US, where he spent some time in the late 1960s and salsa was king during the 1970s. Yet he was quite popular in his home country from the beginning, especially amongst the working class of Caracas and Maracaibo, who adopted Cuban music played by New York Puerto Ricans as their own and called it "salsa" years before the term was employed by US labels like Fania as a marketing tool. Pérez is revered in Venezuela, as well as in Mexico and Colombia, and his storied career, which spans seven decades and thousands of concerts, has yielded more than 35 albums recorded by his various bands, including Los Dementes, Los Kenya, and Los Calvos, all of which are collector's items today. At the start of 1967 Pérez debuted Los Dementes, with vocalists Claudio Zerpa and Perucho Torcat backed by an ace band featuring only trombones in the brass section. Titled "¡Alerta mundo! Llegaron los 'The Crazy Men'" the record was released on the small Venezuelan label Prodansa. Soon after, Prodansa folded and Los Dementes were left without representation or much compensation for their efforts, being paid only in records. In the end of February of that year, Pérez returned to Caracas from a stint in Maracaibo in order to finish his first LP with the well-established and larger Velvet label, entitled "Manicomio a locha". In the first quarter of 1967, Velvet unleashed a trilogy of salsa records in order to compete with rival label Palacio and their recent success with Federico y su Combo Latino: "Porfi '67 Salsa & Boogaloo" by Porfi Jiménez y su Orquesta, "Guasancó" by Sexteto Juventud and lastly "Manicomio a locha". The LP begins appropriately with the boisterous title track, written by the band's conguero Carlos "Nené" Quintero, who would become a legend in coming years. Torcat describes a jam session in mental institution and introduces the band, with tasty solos by trombonist Rufo García followed by Ray on piano. Already you can hear something was different about Ray and his "Crazy Men"-a sound as wild and innovative as what was happening in New York with Eddie Palmieri, but with a more unhinged, raw feeling in line with Willie Colón and other younger Nuyorican bands. Next up is an intriguing track sung in a mix of Italian, English, Spanish and Papiamento by Pérez himself, performed in the complicated rhythm of the mozambique, an Afro-Cuban carnival beat developed in the early 1960s. This is followed by the heavy dancer 'Rico guaguancó', penned by Angelito Pérez, which changes from the guaguancó to the mozambique rhythm mid-way through, proving that Los Dementes were "different from the rest" as the lyrics say. 'Puerto Libre', sung by Torcat, is dedicated to the Venezuelan island of Margarita in the Oriente region, and the independent spirit of its working people. The rhythm changes from guaguancó to guajira and back again but remains danceable all the way through. The side closes out with a "3 in 1" medley inspired by the popular formula of the mosaicos of Billo's Caracas Boys, seamlessly knitting together several different tempos, rhythms, moods and compositions. Side two starts strong with the fierce yet satirical 'Corte e' patas', then 'Alma Cumanesa', a typical folk song refashioned as a guaguancó. This is followed by the funky 'Guajira con Boogaloo'. The tune echoes the sound of young Latin New York, pointing out the connection between Cuban and African American soul music. The pace picks up again with 'Fiesta de trombones', a hot descarga and then the album closes with another medley. Though this marks the end of a rather short album, it also signaled the emerging success of Los Dementes and their involvement with the salsa boom in Venezuela, quickly selling out of its initial run of 1000 records and making for a memorable debut on the Velvet label. Now this rare and sought-after LP has been lovingly restored, mastered from the original tapes, with its original artwork intact, preserving the legacy of Los Dementes for today's generation of salsa lovers everywhere.

In their ever-expanding search for good electronic belters, Forbidden Dance Records went into building a bridge between two continents responsible for so many good artists in the last few decades, with some of them being true legends of the house sound. From Detroit to Napoli and Marseille. From Zurich and Bari to Chicago. Ladies and gentlemen, this is ‘Bridges: An American – European Dance Connection”

Megan Black is a Scottish musician, vocalist and songwriter - with the
kind of gritty,alluring vocal ability that recalls icons like Stevie Nicks and
Alannah Myles, she creates a powerful sonic bridge between her 70sinfluenced sound and contemporary views on feminism, mental health,
addiction and many other relevant topics in today's society

Dans cet opus enregistré entre Colombie et Cuba et édité pour la première fois en 2011 en CD, Sergent Garcia évoque tour à tour la tolérance, le combat de la vie des musiciens et les nombreux mensonges.
Très rapidement c’est un succès international qui lui apporte une nomination aux fameux Latin grammy
Awards dans la catégorie meilleur album de fusion tropicale ! Plus de 10 ans après sa sortie, l’artiste offre à son public une version limitée rééditée en format vinyle orange pour le Disquaire Day.
Album de joie et de fête mais toujours engagé poétiquement sur le monde, le disque comporte une dizaine de chansons dont la plus célèbre est Una Y Otra Vez. Hymne au courage et à la résistance, voilà tel est le message que l’artiste veut transmettre pour lutter contre l’oppression mentale et économique.
Il puise sa force dans les expériences propres de Sergent Garcia durant ces années où il a dû lutter pour son indépendance artistique et retrouver son inspiration.

As the sun sets on a quaint East Nashville house, a young man bares a piece of his soul. Facing the camera, sporting a silky suit jacket/shirt/slacks/fingerless gloves ensemble that announces "singer" before he's even opened his mouth, Lee Tracy Johnson settles onto his stage, the front yard. He sways to the dirge-like drum machine pulse of a synth-soaked slow jam, extends his arms as if gaining his balance, and croons in affecting, fragile earnest, "I need your love… oh baby…"

Dogs in the yard next door begin barking. A mysterious cardboard robot figure, beamed in from galaxies unknown and affixed to a tree, is less vocal. Lee doesn't acknowledge either's presence. He's busy feeling it, arms and hands gesticulating. His voice rises in falsetto over the now-quiet dogs, over the ambient noise from the street that seeps into the handheld camcorder's microphone, over the recording of his own voice played back from a boombox off-camera. After six minutes the single, continuous shot ends. In this intimate creative universe there are no re-takes. There are many more music videos to shoot, and as Lee later puts it, "The first time you do it is actually the best. Because you can never get that again. You expressing yourself from within."

"I Need Your Love" dates from a lost heyday. From some time in the '80s or early '90s, when Lee Tracy (as he was known in performance) and his music partner/producer/manager Isaac Manning committed hours upon hours of their sonic and visual ideas to tape. Embracing drum machines and synthesizers – electronics that made their personal futurism palpable – they recorded exclusively at home, live in a room into a simple cassette deck. Soul, funk, electro and new wave informed their songs, yet Lee and Isaac eschewed the confinement of conventional categories and genres, preferring to let experimentation guide them.

"Anytime somebody put out a new record they had the same instruments or the same sound," explains Isaac. "So I basically wanted to find something that's really gonna stand out away from all of the rest of 'em." Their ethos meant that every idea they came up with was at least worth trying: echoed out half-rapped exhortations over frantic techno-style beats, gospel synth soul, modal electro-funk, oddball pop reinterpretations, emo AOR balladry, nods to Prince and the Fat Boys, or arrangements that might collapse mid-song into a mess of arcade game-ish blips before rallying to reach the finish line. All of it conjoined by consistent tape hiss, and most vitally, Lee's chameleonic voice, which managed to wildly shape shift and still evoke something sincere – whether toggling between falsetto and tenor exalting Jesus's return, or punctuating a melismatic romantic adlib with a succinct, "We all know how it feels to be alone."

"People think we went to a studio," says Isaac derisively. "We never went to no studio. We didn't have the money to go to no studio! We did this stuff at home. I shot videos in my front yard with whatever we could to get things together." Sometimes Isaac would just put on an instrumental record, be it "Planet Rock" or "Don't Cry For Me Argentina" (from Evita), press "record," and let Lee improvise over it, yielding peculiar love songs, would-be patriotic anthems, or Elvis Presley or Marilyn Monroe tributes. Technical limitations and a lack of professional polish never dissuaded them. They believed they were onto something.

"That struggle," Isaac says, "made that sound sound good to me."

In the parlance of modern music criticism Lee and Isaac's dizzying DIY efforts would inevitably be described as "outsider." But "outsider" carries the burden of untold additional layers of meaning if you're Black and from the South, creating on a budget, and trying to get someone, anyone within the country music capital of the world to take your vision seriously. "What category should we put it in?" Isaac asks rhetorically. "I don't know. All I know is feeling. I ain't gonna name it nothing. It's music. If it grabs your soul and touch your heart that's what it basically is supposed to do."

=

Born in 1963, the baby boy of nine siblings, Lee Tracy spent his earliest years living amidst the shotgun houses on Nashville's south side. "We was poor, man!" he says, recalling the outhouse his family used for a bathroom and the blocks of ice they kept in the kitchen to chill perishables. "But I actually don't think I really realized I was in poverty until I got grown and started thinking about it." Lee's mom worked at the Holiday Inn; his dad did whatever he had to do, from selling fruit from a horse drawn cart to bootlegging. "We didn't have much," Lee continues, "but my mother and my father got us the things we needed, the clothes on our back." By the end of the decade with the city's urban renewal programs razing entire neighborhoods to accommodate construction of the Interstate, the family moved to Edgehill Projects. Lee remembers music and art as a constant source of inspiration for he and his brothers and sisters – especially after seeing the Jackson 5 perform on Ed Sullivan. "As a small child I just knew that was what I wanted to do."

His older brother Don began musically mentoring him, introducing Lee to a variety of instruments and sounds. "He would never play one particular type of music, like R&B," says Lee. "I was surrounded by jazz, hard rock and roll, easy listening, gospel, reggae, country music; I mean I was a sponge absorbing all of that." Lee taught himself to play drums by beating on cardboard boxes, gaining a rep around the way for his timekeeping, and his singing voice. Emulating his favorites, Earth Wind & Fire and Cameo, he formed groups with other kids with era-evocative band names like Concept and TNT Connection, and emerged as the leader of disciplined rehearsals. "I made them practice," says Lee. "We practiced and practiced and practiced. Because I wanted that perfection." By high school the most accomplished of these bands would take top prize in a prominent local talent show. It was a big moment for Lee, and he felt ready to take things to the next level. But his band-mates had other ideas.

"I don't know what happened," he says, still miffed at the memory. "It must have blew they mind after we won and people started showing notice, because it's like everybody quit! I was like, where the hell did everybody go?" Lee had always made a point of interrogating prospective musicians about their intentions before joining his groups: were they really serious or just looking for a way to pick up girls? Now he understood even more the importance of finding a collaborator just as committed to the music as he was.

=

Isaac Manning had spent much of his life immersed in music and the arts – singing in the church choir with his family on Nashville's north side, writing, painting, dancing, and working various gigs within the entertainment industry. After serving in the armed forces, in the early '70s he ran The Teenage Place, a music and performance venue that catered to the local youth. But he was forced out of town when word of one of his recreational routines created a stir beyond the safe haven of his bohemian circles.

"I was growing marijuana," Isaac explains. "It wasn't no business, I was smoking it myself… I would put marijuana in scrambled eggs, cornbread and stuff." His weed use originated as a form of self-medication to combat severe tooth pain. But when he began sharing it with some of the other young people he hung out with, some of who just so happened to be the kids of Nashville politicians, the cops came calling. "When I got busted," he remembers, "they were talking about how they were gonna get rid of me because they didn't want me saying nothing about they children because of the politics and stuff. So I got my family, took two raggedy cars, and left Nashville and went to Vegas."

Out in the desert, Isaac happened to meet Chubby Checker of "The Twist" fame while the singer was gigging at The Flamingo. Impressed by Isaac's zeal, Checker invited him to go on the road with him as his tour manager/roadie/valet. The experience gave Isaac a window into a part of the entertainment world he'd never encountered – a glimpse of what a true pop act's audience looked like. "Chubby Checker, none of his shows were played for Black folks," he remembers. "All his gigs were done at high-class white people areas." Returning home after a few years with Chubby, Isaac was properly motivated to make it in Music City. He began writing songs and scouting around Nashville for local talent anywhere he could find it with an expressed goal: "Find someone who can deliver your songs the way you want 'em delivered and make people feel what you want them to feel."

One day while walking through Edgehill Projects Isaac heard someone playing the drums in a way that made him stop and take notice. "The music was so tight, just the drums made me feel like, oh I'm-a find this person," he recalls. "So I circled through the projects until I found who it was.

"That's how I met him – Lee Tracy. When I found him and he started singing and stuff, I said, ohhh, this is somebody different."

=

Theirs was a true complementary partnership: young Lee possessed the raw talent, the older Isaac the belief. "He's really the only one besides my brother and my family that really seen the potential in me," says Lee. "He made me see that I could do it."

Isaac long being a night owl, his house also made for a fertile collaborative environment – a space where there always seemed to be a new piece of his visual art on display: paintings, illustrations, and dolls and figures (including an enigmatic cardboard robot). Lee and Issac would hang out together and talk, listen to music, conjure ideas, and smoke the herb Isaac had resumed growing in his yard. "It got to where I could trust him, he could trust me," Isaac says of their bond. They also worked together for hours on drawings, spreading larges rolls of paper on the walls and sketching faces with abstract patterns and imagery: alien-like beings, tri-horned horse heads, inverted Janus-like characters where one visage blurred into the other.

Soon it became apparent that they didn't need other collaborators; self-sufficiency was the natural way forward. At Isaac's behest Lee, already fed up with dealing with band musicians, began playing around with a poly-sonic Yamaha keyboard at the local music store. "It had everything on it – trumpet, bass, drums, organ," remembers Lee. "And that's when I started recording my own stuff."

The technology afforded Lee the flexibility and independence he craved, setting him on a path other bedroom musicians and producers around the world were simultaneously following through the '80s into the early '90s. Saving up money from day jobs, he eventually supplemented the Yamaha Isaac had gotten him with Roland and Casio drum machines and a Moog. Lee was living in an apartment in Hillside at that point caring for his dad, who'd been partially paralyzed since early in life. In the evenings up in his second floor room, the music put him in a zone where he could tune out everything and lose himself in his ideas.

"Oh I loved it," he recalls. "I would really experiment with the instruments and use a lot of different sound effects. I was looking for something nobody else had. I wanted something totally different. And once I found the sound I was looking for, I would just smoke me a good joint and just let it go, hit the record button." More potent a creative stimulant than even Isaac's weed was the holistic flow and spontaneity of recording. Between sessions at Isaac's place and Lee's apartment, their volume of output quickly ballooned.

"We was always recording," says Lee. "That's why we have so much music. Even when I went to Isaac's and we start creating, I get home, my mind is racing, I gotta start creating, creating, creating. I remember there were times when I took a 90-minute tape from front to back and just filled it up."

"We never practiced," says Isaac. "See, that was just so odd about the whole thing. I could relate to him, and tell him about the songs I had ideas for and everything and stuff. And then he would bring it back or whatever, and we'd get together and put it down." Once the taskmaster hell bent on rehearsing, Lee had flipped a full 180. Perfection was no longer an aspiration, but the enemy of inspiration.

"I seen where practicing and practicing got me," says Lee. "A lot of musicians you get to playing and they gotta stop, they have to analyze the music. But while you analyzing you losing a lot of the greatness of what you creating. Stop analyzing what you play, just play! And it'll all take shape."

=

"I hope you understood the beginning of the record because this was invented from a dream I had today… (You tell me, I'll tell you, we'll figure it out together)" – Lee Tracy and Isaac Manning, "Hope You Understand"

Lee lets loose a maniacal cackle when he acknowledges that the material that he and Isaac recorded was by anyone's estimation pretty out there. It's the same laugh that commences "Hope You Understand" – a chaotic transmission that encapsulates the duality at the heart of their music: a stated desire to reach people and a compulsion to go as leftfield as they saw fit.

"We just did it," says Lee. "We cut the music on and cut loose. I don't sit around and write. I do it by listening, get a feeling, play the music, and the lyrics and stuff just come out of me."

The approach proved adaptable to interpreting other artists' material. While recording a cover of Whitney Houston's pop ballad "Saving All My Love For You," Lee played Whitney's version in his headphones as he laid down his own vocals – partially following the lyrics, partially using them as a departure point. The end result is barely recognizable compared with the original, Lee and Isaac having switched up the time signature and reinvented the melody along the way towards morphing a slick mainstream radio standard into something that sounds solely their own.

"I really used that song to get me started," says Lee. "Then I said, well I need something else, something is missing. Something just came over me. That's when I came up with 'Is It What You Want.'"

The song would become the centerpiece of Lee and Isaac's repertoire. Pushed along by a percolating metronomic Rhythm King style beat somewhere between a military march and a samba, "Is It What You Want" finds Lee pleading the sincerity of his commitment to a potential love interest embellished by vocal tics and hiccups subtlely reminiscent of his childhood hero MJ. Absent chord changes, only synth riffs gliding in and out like apparitions, the song achieves a lingering lo-fi power that leaves you feeling like it's still playing, somewhere, even after the fade out.

"I don't know, it's like a real spiritual song," Lee reflects. "But it's not just spiritual. To me the more I listen to it it's like about everything that you do in your everyday life, period. Is it what you want? Do you want a car or you don't want a car? Do you want Jesus or do you want the Devil? It's basically asking you the question. Can't nobody answer the question but you yourself."

In 1989 Lee won a lawsuit stemming from injuries sustained from a fight he'd gotten into. He took part of the settlement money and with Isaac pressed up "Saving All My Love For You" b/w "Is It What You Want" as a 45 single. Isaac christened the label One Chance Records. "Because that's all we wanted," he says with a laugh, "one chance."

Isaac sent the record out to radio stations and major labels, hoping for it to make enough noise to get picked up nationally. But the response he and Lee were hoping for never materialized. According to Isaac the closest the single got to getting played on the radio is when a disk jock from a local station made a highly unusual announcement on air: "The dude said on the radio, 107.5 – 'We are not gonna play 'Is It What You Want.' We cracked up! Wow, that's deep.

"It was a whole racist thing that was going on," he reflects. "So we just looked over and kept on going. That was it. That was about the way it goes… If you were Black and you were living in Nashville and stuff, that's the way you got treated." Isaac already knew as much from all the times he'd brought he and Lee's tapes (even their cache of country music tunes) over to Music Row to try to drum up interest to no avail.

"Isaac, he really worked his ass off," says Lee. "He probably been to every record place down on Music Row." Nashville's famed recording and music business corridor wasn't but a few blocks from where Lee grew up. Close enough, he remembers, for him to ride his bike along its back alleys and stumble upon the occasional random treasure, like a discarded box of harmonicas. Getting in through the front door, however, still felt a world away.

"I just don't think at the time our music fell into a category for them," he concedes. "It was before its time."

=

Lee stopped making music some time in the latter part of the '90s, around the time his mom passed away and life became increasingly tough to manage. "When my mother died I had a nervous breakdown," he says, "So I shut down for a long time. I was in such a sadness frame of mind. That's why nobody seen me. I had just disappeared off the map." He fell out of touch with Isaac, and in an indication of just how bad things had gotten for him, lost track of all the recordings they'd made together. Music became a distant memory.

Fortunately, Isaac kept the faith. In a self-published collection of his poetry – paeans to some of his favorite entertainment and public figures entitled Friends and Dick Clark – he'd written that he believed "music has a life of its own." But his prescience and presence of mind were truly manifested in the fact that he kept an archive of he and Lee's work. As perfectly imperfect as "Is It What You Want" now sounds in a post-Personal Space world, Lee and Isaac's lone official release was in fact just a taste. The bulk of the Is It What You Want album is culled from the pair's essentially unheard home recordings – complete songs, half-realized experiments, Isaac's blue monologues and pronouncements et al – compiled, mixed and programmed in the loose and impulsive creative spirit of their regular get-togethers from decades ago. The rest of us, it seems, may have finally caught up to them.

On the prospect of at long last reaching a wider audience, Isaac says simply, "I been trying for a long time, it feels good." Ever the survivor, he adds, "The only way I know how to make it to the top is to keep climbing. If one leg break on the ladder, hey, you gotta fix it and keep on going… That's where I be at. I'll kill death to make it out there."

For Lee it all feels akin to a personal resurrection: "It's like I was in a tomb and the tomb was opened and I'm back… Man, it feels so great. I feel like I'm gonna jump out of my skin." Success at this stage of his life, he realizes, probably means something different than what it did back when he was singing and dancing in Isaac's front yard. "What I really mean by 'making it,'" he explains isn't just the music being heard but, "the story being told."

Occasionally Lee will pull up "Is It What You Want" on YouTube on his phone, put on his headphones, and listen. He remembers the first time he heard his recorded voice. How surreal it was, how he thought to himself, "Is that really me?" What would he say to that younger version of himself now?

"I would probably tell myself, hang in there, don't give up. Keep striving for the goal. And everything will work out."

Despite what's printed on the record label, sometimes you do get more than one chance.

Exklusive Neuauflage des Entombed-Klassikers aus 2001! Hier nun die lang erwartete Wiederveröffentlichung des siebten Entombed Longplayers 'Morning Star'! Neu remastered von Magnus Lindberg (Hellacopters, Alcest, Cult of Luna, Imperial State Electric, Misery loves Co, Lucifer, Dool, Refused u.v.a.) in den Redmount Studios.

Garden Gaia is a part of Pantha du Prince’s ongoing exploration into the theme of ‘humans as nature’, a theme previously explored on his records Elements of Light (recorded with The Bell Laboratory) and 2020’s Conference of Trees.

Pantha du Prince on Garden Gaia: “There are scientists who say that we humans are ocean that’s been folded together. My music is about raising consciousness, about describing the reality of life and the lost paradise through the means of music. It’s about entering a free space and developing a maximum degree of openness and sensitivity to our bodies – to our mental states and the atmosphere that surrounds us. It’s about mindfulness and a high level of awareness towards what’s happening around and within us. I’ve poured all of these experiences into Garden Gaia as music. And that’s to be taken in the literal sense of ‘pouring,’ since we belong to a flowing process on this planet. A tree also flows into the air, just as it’s connected to other trees beneath the ground through currents of communication. Our lungs flow into our bodies. And as embryos, we were flowing beings. The question is: to what extent can we adult humans continue to flow?”

With his Arjunamusic label and a growing catalog of category-defying releases, Samuel Rohrer
continues to quietly, yet confidently, make a name for himself as a genuinely unique figure within
the European electronic music realm. Over the past decade he has assembled a repertoire of
music that fills a sadly neglected gap in the modern musical landscape. That is to say, he has
made a number of “electronically”-aided works that never seem to make “electronic-ism” the main
selling point or raison d'être. Rohrer understands that we inhabit a networked media landscape
that no longer sees a novelty value in every synthetic or technological sound, and by realizing
this, he makes a music that fully engages with the present without completely disregarding the
exciting speculative sensibility that has allowed electronic music to solidify into a tradition. His
latest solo album, Hungry Ghosts, again shows the high quality of sonic design that can be
achieved by conceptualizing musical passages as living, breathing entities rather than as
signposts to some still distant reality.
Maybe more so than any of Rohrer’s solo records to date, Hungry Ghosts is the one that
most unambiguously displays the artist as a kind of inspired sound “cultivator” or landscaper
rather than just a straightforward “producer”. The emphasis here seems to be biological growth
processes rendered in musical form, and in fact some track titles namechecking the biodiversity
of the external world (“Slow Fox”, “Ctenophora”) and neurochemistry (“Serotonin”) lend some
additional credence to this interpretation.
As with previous outings, Rohrer starts with his skills as a genre-resistant percussionist
and builds from there, with dense clusters of drum hits and icy cymbal exclamations leading the
way into a wide-open atmosphere full of fragmented phrases, marked with strange reversals or
compressions of time. The percussive portions and other ambiences merge together in such a
way that the latter seems like a kind of shifting, holographic camouflage for the former; an effect
which makes for a greater than usual number of shifts in mood. Rohrer’s already established
ambiguity and mystery are the moods that permeate throughout, to be sure, but there are also
surprising moments of humorous whimsy (the flourishes of cartoon mischief and teasing silences
on the tracks “Human Regression” and “Bodylanguage”), reverence (the optimistic organ swells
and steady sequencer guiding “Ceremonism”), and meditative focus (the slow-motion spectral
waltz of “Treehouse”). Also notable here are very brief etudes, such as “Window Pain,” whose
dark, lush ebb and flow actually seem tailored to repeated or looped listening.
It’s particularly remarkable that almost all of this material is recorded solo and in a “live /
no overdubs” mode, given how much it feels like well-rehearsed ensemble playing, and given the
impeccable timing involved in continually exchanging the sounds at the very forefront of the mix.
And here we come full circle to the idea of “electronic music” mentioned at the beginning here:
instead of making us feel that we are in the presence of some fully-realized form brought back
from “the future,” Rohrer invites us instead to witness fascinating processes of transition and
mutation, and to value them for what they are now as much as for where they are headed.

Grey Marbled Vinyl

Talented in being able to get people rising high for a physical or mental holiday this acid freak from Malta is about to take you on a trip. Neil Hales aka Acidulant owns a serious collection of both classic and modern hardware and knows how to use it to create some of the best Acid House around. With multiple singles and eps on different labels, this time Zodiak Commune Records has the honor to welcome this multitalented producer with a specially tailored tasty acid techno release!

Tape
"Samples, movies and beats. That's the essence of Dead End's brand new LP titled Kino Vol.1. The Portuguese producer takes the chair and delivers a masterful performance that combines music and cinema. Kino Vol.1 is a multidisciplinary album built around samples picked from some of his most loved blockbusters and inspired by iconic movie clips. For the occasion, Saturate's Instagram profile has turned into a video gallery, featuring footage from cult movies and series such as The Office, Sicario, A Fistful Of Dollars, perfectly synched with Dead End's productions.
The album experience itself resembles that of a mini-series like Netflix's Love Death Robot or Oat Studios, where every episode is a story on its own, written and shot in a different way. The fourteen tracks, or episodes as I like to call them, range from heavy club to hip hop and halftime. Some are more colorful and atmospheric like the ending tripled composed by 'Cocoon,' 'Voyage' (feat Dj Ride) and 'Flowers Bloom'. These cuts seem to come off reflective and introspective movies. Others are way heavier, as they were made straight for fighting and chase scenes. In this group, you can count 'Melee Attack,' 'Though Break,' 'Stealth', 'Thin Ice'. My favorite instead are those which set up an ambiguous and sinister mood. 'Bullit Drift,' 'The Fog,' 'Shindeiru,' 'The Road,' all these episodes could fit very well in both mental thrillers (a la Nolan) and unconventional psycho/horror movies. They build a palpable tension that successfully keeps me on my toes as I expect a jump scare or a sudden plot twist to come in at every second given.
In conclusion, Dead Ends' Kino Vol.1 has the virtue of creating a listening experience that, thanks to its references to the world of cinema, becomes interactive and involves the listener in first person. It's impossible not to try to figure out from which films the samples are taken or to try to imagine which scene would be perfect for a specific track."

The illustrious memotone debuts on Accidental Meetings, with a sublime & wonderful thirteen-track LP... Huge tip

The next installment for the AM imprint is headed up by the critically acclaimed artist, memotone. Following previous work for entities such as Black Acre, Disktopia & Termina. Not to mention supplying instrumentation for Batu's debut album, and scoring works for Palace Skateboards.

The multi-instrumentalist showcases his entire repertoire within Clever Dog, thirteen emotive and ambitious tracks traversing between back-alley jazz, low-slung experimental & blissful ambient oddities.

memotone's discography is vast, however, this release truly stands out as a masterpiece. Enough words - dive in.

A rediscovered untitled Mass by Adriaen Willaert "Missa Ippolito", a
hidden ode to the Cardinal of Ferrara, Willaert's patron.Adriaen Willaert
must have already been a prolific composer before he assumed the
position of kapellmeister at the Basilica of San Marco in Venice
After all, a second Mass of his was included in a large, illuminated choral
manuscript that was produced for the Illustrious Brotherhood of Our Blessed
Lady in 's- Hertogenbosch, the Netherlands (the first Mass in this manuscript,
Missa sex vocum super "Benedicta," can be found on the LP Adriano 2). The title
page of the Mass does not mention the name of the composition, only that of the
composer, Adrianus Willart. It was catalogued as a Missa sine nomine, a Mass
without a name. It is assumed that the work was composed between 1522 and
1527, at a time when Willaert was a member of the music chapel of Cardinal
Ippolito d'Este in Ferrara, Italy. At first glance, what's striking about this
composition is that one of the tenor voices sings a cantus firmus (a "given, fixed,
foundational voice" that provides the basis for each movement of the Mass, to
which the other voices are added) that always consists of the same 13 notes: mi
ut mi sol mi ut fa mi fa mi re mi.
In an article about the Mass, the musicologist Joshua Rifkin claims to have
discovered a sogetto cavato delle parole in this sequence of notes. This is a
compositional technique common for the time in which the notes of a melody, in
this case the cantus firmus, are derived from the vowels of certain words. The
notes used for the tone poetry are those of the Guidonian hexachord, a series of
the 6 notes ut-re-mi-fa-sol-la.
For example, the word Maria (Ma-ri-a) can be "translated" into the notes la mi la.
The cantus firmus of the Mass, according to Rifkin, fits the words "Primus
Ippolitus Cardinalis Estensis" (Ippolito I, Cardinal d'Este) perfectly. The Mass is
thus almost certainly (via a hidden message in the music) an ode to the Cardinal
of Ferrara who was Willaert's patron. This rediscovered untitled Mass by Adriaen
Willaert, which we have now sung as a world premiere, can therefore rightly bear
the name Missa Ippolito.

90s French pop nirvana, on LP for the first time! Autour de Lucie's followup to their geographical barrier busting debut sees the band
incorporating subtle keyboards and electronic beats to their wellestablished sensuous dreamy pop charm
..
Tracks: Selon l’humeur / Immobile / Qu’avons-nous fait / Chanson sans issue (ne
vois- tu pas) / La verité (sur ceux qui mentent) / Sur tes pas / Sagrada familia /
L’eau qui dort / L’autre nous / Les promesses / Je vous ai tué ce matin /
Atomium / La 2ème chance

With Out Here, premier bassist Christian McBride's fifth recording on
Mack Avenue Records, McBride introduces his latest working group: a
trio, fully embracing at age 41 his role as standard-bearer and mentor
Pianist Christian Sands and drummer Ulysses Owens, Jr. - both younger,
emerging artists - have been performing with McBride's smallest group for about
three years, honing their trio conception to a fine point of expressive depth and
nuance with select performances around the world.

Utrecht’s Banji return with news of their record,
‘Freshcakes’, via PIAS Recordings.
‘Freshcakes’ is filled to the brim with Banji
goodness, with a whopping thirteen tracks.
With support from Line of Best Fit and The
Independent (Track Of The Week), and features in
CLASH, DORK and more, Banji are making their
mark with this new record, pressed to light blue
vinyl.
Talking about ‘Freshcakes’, vocalist Morris Brandt
says: “Banji’s songwriting has always reflected my
surroundings and environment. Big themes of this
album are struggling with adulthood, self-worth
and self-esteem, mental health and frustrations,
addiction, and finding your own self-discipline and
maturity over time. The lyrics that flowed out of me
throughout the making of ‘Freshcakes’ tend to be
built around introverted thoughts, personal social
situations, and subjects that I find difficult to
dissect.”

Manchester, UK based duo Leon Wellings Jones and Thomas Filbee form AEIT together, acting as one. These DJ / producers share the same vision of techno, that being a combination of unrelenting drums, blistering pace, raw atmosphere and aggression which is the foundation of AEIT’s powerful approach to industrial underground techno.

Continuing with the ‘Limited As Fuck’ series of releases, on our fiercely independent techno label based in Scotland, and you thought you’d be safe, you thought you’d be kept hidden from the ravaging storm of mental techno abuse with a place of protection and shelter? NOT HERE, THIS IS RIOT.

We guarantee you’ll require sonic psychiatric treatment after the mayhem, chaos, turmoil, pandemonium, extreme confusion and vivid flashbacks that’ll all play their part after you’ve been mentally broken to pieces by this onslaught of incapacitated disbelief. Just how much this release smashed your head in so gracefully, with forethought of menace, will become apparent once a state of near-unconsciousness from your soul bleeding into the sound system has been released.

WARNING: DEVIANCE IS A GIVEN ……………….. ONCE YOU’RE A RIOTous DEVIANT