Carved out from between the cracks of life over a 2 year period, Low Flung presents his eighth full length album ‘The Wheel’. Together, the 11 tracks provide a space to process and sit with difficult change. This takes the form of microscopic minimalist landscapes. Presented in both audio and physical form as micro grooves on a 12” vinyl.
At times the sound wanders and walks, other times it remains still, clear and precise. The omni-present artifacts found in ‘The Wheel’ are left to breathe a different life during each listen. Drones act like familiar trails losing their path as space transforms like a breeze over a table of sand. Hyper focused spores evolve around blurred waves of time. Electronic tones are captured flowing to the rhythm of a decaying natural world.
‘The Wheel’ is a patchwork of sonic experiments made using modular synthesis, fixed architecture synthesis, Buchla Music Easel (replica), outboard effects, cassette manipulation techniques, samplers and field recordings taken along the texturally rich and historically questionable eastern coastline of Australia.
The tracks have been composed with a materiality that embraces the acoustics of different listening environments. Much like mood, this means each listening experience is unique due to the natural acoustics of your listening space. The sounds on this album embrace this phenomena, creating a rich, visceral listening experience that slowly scratches away at discrete moments of time
Rather than attempting to traverse new sonic fields of experimentation in ‘The Wheel’, the album touches on the various spaces Danny has explored over the past ten years as an Audio Visual artist. Although technically eighth, it would be more fitting to say this album draws a clear line from ‘Blow Waves (2018)’ to ‘Outside The Circle (2020)’ to become the third and final chapter in the expanded non linear, unintentional landscape series. Serendipitous that each was conceived over 2 year periods of time.
While the key focus is sitting with difficult change, this album is also a celebration of any moment you might find yourself in. Good, bad, easy or hard, this album is an attempt to help with feeling content wherever you are along your path. With each cycle a new context.
Formed in 2016 by transatlantic buds Nick Mitchell Maiato and James
Toth, One Eleven Heavy is a band designed as a Venn diagram of the
pair's shared musical loves Crazy Horse, Grateful Dead, and Dylan come to the fore when listening to their joyful third album, Poolside, but the influences go much deeper.
Toth says, We were lucky to have our touring drummer, Jake Morris (Stephen Malkmus & The Jicks) at the ready to play drums. Nick's pal, the fantastic Guy Fowler, plays bass on the record.
Guided by mysterious producer Colin Sick, One Eleven Heavy spent
a year writing and recording the tracks that form Poolside, an album that feels like a gothic western romp through cartoon dreams of escaped criminal ciphers ( Tyrant King ), rebound coke binge recollections ( Rizzo In The Wig ), and tales of sasquatches crossing state lines ( Bama Yeti ).
Symphony Orchestra is a new group from Maximilian Turnbull and Michael Rault. Both Rault and Turnbull are accomplished songwriters, performers and producers in their own right, with Turnbull leading The Badge Epoque Ensemble, playing with the group Darlene Shrugg, and once releasing records under the name Slim Twig and Rault having released several psychedelic rock & roll classics under his own name in the past decade. The pair have worked together in various capacities for many years, writing and recording together on U.S. Girls' In A Poem Unlimited, and contributing to each other's releases, but the debut LP from Symphony Orchestra (due out May 12th on Telephone Explosion) marks their first release as an official entity.
Needless to say, there is a potent creative chemistry between Rault and Turnbull and Radiant Music showcases the alchemy between their distinct skill sets. The album is an exercise in pure collaboration. After years spent focusing on solo projects and working as hired guns on other projects, the duo came together with no specific intentions other than to work free of boundaries and direction. Freeing themselves from the familiar pressures of deadlines and expectations, they found a sense of discovery through togetherness. Duties on this project were split between Rault acting primarily as a one-man rhythm section and lead vocalist with Turnbull bringing chord sketches and his trademark aphoristic lyrical musings to the table. Trading off roles on guitar and keys from song to song, the duo's deft approach to melody bleeds through their instrumental parts as much as it does through Rault's vocal melodies. The majority of this album was self-engineered over the course of three sessions in 2018, at Michael's Montreal studio. Dormant during the pandemic, Rault's move to Los Angeles and the birth of Turnbull's twin sons, work reignited in 2022. The latterly tracked instrumental 'Concerto' and ballad 'Unthink The Thinkable' provide a dynamic depth to the album perhaps attributable to this tumultuous pause. Mixing came courtesy of Steve Chahley & Tony Price (U.S. Girls, BÉE, Jane Inc, etc).
In all of their work, Rault and Turnbull have made a hallmark of elaborately precise production and arrangement, Radiant Music is no different, though its pared-back simplicity provides a streamlined directness. The pairing of Rault's soulful, elastic vocal with Turnbull's evocatively cerebral lyrics provides a thrilling sensation unlike anything else in their respective catalogs. With an explosive, groove-forward approach, kaleidoscopic walls of vocal harmony and technicolor displays of guitar work, these 31 minutes of music will most certainly stimulate the mind of any fan of classic pop rock and funk. The blown-out breakbeats, winsome woven vocal melodies and propulsive wah-wah guitars of the title track evoke memories of an after-school cartoon special that never really existed outside of a lysergic daydream. "Harp In The Wind" is a perfect moment of overcast melancholy complete with ribbons of weeping synthesizers and velcro-fuzz guitar that could rip a clean line through Kevlar. "Know Thyself" and the harmony-rich "Intersection" are standout tracks that find a kinship in Stereolab's space-age effervescence. "Concerto" is a slab of beaming, mischievous funk that nods to Billy Preston's extraterrestrial keyboard explorations.
Radiant Music, like the best pop music, is life-affirming, confectionary, and enticing. Symphony Orchestra have created an album that hits you right where you need it, anchoring heady, adventurous sonic ideas down to a solid foundation of masterful songcraft, virtuosic instrumental performances and undeniable groove. Not a bar, nor beat is wasted.
Bog Bodies - the band consisting of Robert Stillman, Anders Holst and Seán Carpio delve into deep time to carve sonic abstractions across their self-titled new album on MIC.
Navigating the “liminal territory between noise and signal, chaos and control, form and abstraction,” the trio recorded and mixed the album on an
8-track cassette machine. Bog Bodies is a searching inquiry into the mythologies and magical undercurrents that knit together our existence in the information age.
Bog Bodies opens with a leftfield homage to Superman III, exploring the mythical qualities of technology through a series of angular horn lines that dissolve into the mire of feedback noise on the album’s raking, anthemic title track. Reverberating in tectonic sheets of sound on ‘One That Is Reflected In The Image Becomes All’ and Bog Bodies reaches its climax on the 11-minute ‘Cave Painting 2019’ - a subterranean epic of mystic force, drawn up from the earth in sweeping drones.
Bringing together their combined experiences playing with the likes of Manuel Göttsching, Luke Temple, The Smile and more recently Coby Sey.
Flautist Johanna Orellana teams up with Carmen Villain for a collection of horizontal, pastoral field recordings and close mic-ed flute sounds that zero in on the instrument’s unstable resonance and levitational magic. There’s no cringe virtuoso business or fourth world firewalking here - just sonic purity, sublime minimalism and the precise capture of time, place and poetry.
You might have come across Johanna Orellana before if you’ve listened to Carmen Villain’s music (or seen her perform live), and Villain appears here in a producer’s role, using her engineering expertise to impart a level of restraint and sonic fidelity that’s quite startling. There are only really two central elements to the album: environmental recordings and flute. There’s no psychedelic delay, no cavernous reverb; no audible treatments at all - Orellana and Villain instead force us to consider the flute and its musical lineage.
‘El Jardín I’ introduces the instrument as a physical conduit; Orellana allows her breath to distort the sound - the padded pat pat of the keys forms a kind of rhythm, closely recorded so it’s amplified and jarring, linking to primal wind instruments like conch shells, bamboo flutes and wooden whistles. Recalling the way in which Debit interfaced with the ancient world using AI- assisted tech on last year’s ‘The Long Count’, Orellana uses a comparatively modern contemporary transverse flute, an instrument with roots that stretch back through the baroque era, into Medieval Europe, back to the Byzantine era and into Asia. The component that connects the instruments and eras is breath, and its amplification and modification through differently shaped pipes and vessels.
Orellana lets the environment sing: insects, rushing water and zephyr-like winds form a stage that presents her mortal energy, suggesting a harmony between our use of breath and its environmental ubiquitousness. Her technique is steeped in folk history and decouples itself from expectation by rooting itself in nature. It allows her to bridge the gap between equal temperament and less ordered (less commercially-focused) microtonality without overstating the concept. Other sounds waft in from the sidelines; what might be an Indian bansuri, stray notes, a gust of air.
There’s a link to the foundational new age recordings that Joanna Brouk made with Maggi Payne back in 1980, but Orelanna also absorbs the outdoor folk magic of Fonal or Stroom, and the improvisational grist of Bendik Giske or legendary US horn duo Nmperign.
GREETINGS returns with release numero five ‘Look Within’. Stepping up to the mic for the first time, his original vocals up the sauce factor with dreamy hooks that will have you singing along into your wildest dancefloor fantasy.
The EP kicks off with A1 ‘Look Within’ – an evocative tribute to the magic of discovering the dancefloor, with commanding lyrics centred around discovery and inhibition. A2 ‘Come and Go (Dirty Talk Mix)’ expresses the ecstasy of meeting someone on the dancefloor and finding passion among the grooves. To be played when the dancefloor is just right and ready (il bon tempo), consider it your next club serenade. B1 ‘Won’t You Believe’ weaves an epic acid bass line into a ground-shaking chugger, that will whip any crowd intona frenzy – to be used responsibly!
B2 ‘When I Dream at Night’ is a cosmic closer, taking you on a journey into forbidden nocturnal yearnings as GREETINGS dreams of a certain someone, unable to shake them from his mind, lost in a memory of melody.
25 years of KOMPAKT is no reason to get hysterical. Then again, it's a nice occasion to have a laid back look at the situation in electronic music today. Minimal techno in all it's varieties is now established as the worlds best dance music, as you may know. So far, so good. What's next Nothing. Dance on!
I've gain two essential insights with the passage of time. First off, that music which over the years only knew 'faster, better, stronger' and 'forwards ever - backwards never' can constantly repeat, quote and loop itself without killing itself. A music that suspends the meaning of time and eventually can set a parallel, better universe of fantasy against the twisted grimaces of reality. Again and again.
And secondly, that getting older living in/with this music is a quite relative term to which ideally a serenity of age can ring a bell. This shows that 25 years after 1993 so many protagonists, enthusiasts, DJs, musicians, relentlessly rave fighters - with all personal advancement - are still there and still celebrate, play or produce this/theirs music; and compete themselves and their music just with that.
Two such heroes of the neat and tidy bass drum culture are with no doubt T.RAUMSCHMIERE aka MARCO HAAS and REINHARD VOIGT. From day one, those two figureheads have given live-techno the glam of stage-diving rock 'n' roll, long before vodka and beer prevailed as alternative lube for ecstatic dancefloors.
Even better they both now raise the glass at the longest techno-bar in the world named KOMPAKT EXTRA/SPEICHER. With DREI MILLIONEN KO¨LSCH, Reinhard Voigt continues to establish his savvy 'way into sound', which he's pursued for a few years now on his many releases. He's turning genre cliche´s into a very personal take with his defiant mix of the deepness of a lonesome cowboy and his implicit faith in the dancefloor and gives the music a very personal touch of ennnoblement of the faith in itself. Technos dignity shall be inviolable.
For me, AUGEN ZU by T.RAUMSCHMIERE is one of the most beautiful masterpieces of bass-heavy 'Umta Umta' techno. A few strikingly brilliant vocal lines from the master himself, put through the machines and combined with a relentlessly sequencer that says it all. This cheers my heart and we will always need such tracks to remind us of ourselves. And to forget about ourselves. Smash hits of unreason! Or the prettiest declaration of love to a music which gets its magical moments from what's happening between the bass drum-beats. But only by this when the bassdrum remains linear and will do so forever. Both Marco Haas and Reinhard Voigt know that. Because after techno comes always techno.
Wolfgang Voigt - May, 2018 Wolfgang Voigt - May, 2018
25 Jahre KOMPAKT sind kein Grund sich aufzuregen. Aber dennoch ein schöner Anlass, einen gelassenen Blick auf die Lage der elektronischen Musik zu werfen. Denn der globale Minimal-Techno, in seinen unterschiedlichen Spielarten, hat sich bekanntlich längst als beste Tanzmusik der Welt etabliert. Recht so. Was nun Gar nichts. Weitertanzen.
Zwei essentielle Erkenntnisse haben sich bei mir im Laufe der Zeit durchgesetzt: Erstens - dass eine Musik, die über Jahre nur ein »Höher, Schneller, Weiter« oder ein »Forwards Ever - Backwards Never« kannte, sich ständig wiederholen, selbst zitieren und loopen kann, ohne daran zu ersticken. Die Bedeutung von Zeit und Vergänglichkeit im besten Sinne außer Kraft setzen und der hässlichen Fratze der Realität eine parallele, bessere Welt der Fantasie entgegensetzen kann. Immer wieder.
Und zweitens: dass »Altern in/mit dieser Musik« ein sehr relativer Begriff ist, dem bestenfalls Altersgelassenheit etwas sagt, Alter. Das zeigt sich immer wieder im schönsten Sinne, wenn 25 Jahre nach 1993 so viele Akteure, Enthusiasten, DJs, Musikanten, unkaputtbare Kampfraver, bei aller persönlichen Weiterentwicklung, immer noch da sind und immer noch diese/ihre Musik abfeiern, auflegen oder eben produzieren und sich und ihr Tun auch nur daran messen lassen müssen.
Zwei solche Recken der gepflegten Bassdrumkultur sind zweifelsohne T.RAUMSCHMIERE aka MARCO HAAS und REINHARD VOIGT. Zwei Rampensäue der ersten Stunde, die Live-Techno den Glam des Rock'n'Roll Stagedivings gegeben haben, lange bevor Vodka und Bier sich als alternative Gleitmittel eines ektatischen Dancefloors in der Breite durchgesetzt hatten.
Umso schöner, dass sich eben diese Beiden mal wieder an der längsten Techno-Theke der Welt, genannt KOMPAKT EXTRA/SPEICHER über die beiden Seiten einer Schallplatte hinweg musikalisch zuprosten. Mit dem Track DREI MILLIONEN KÖLSCH setzt REINHARD VOIGT seinen smarten »way into sound« fort, den er schon seit ein paar Jahren auf diversen Veröffentlichungen konsequent verfolgt. Mit einer trotzigen Mischung aus lonesome cowboyhafter Deepness und dem unbedingten Bekenntnis zum Dancefloor schafft er es, den Klischees des Techno eine sehr persönliche Note der Veredelung des Glaubens an sich selbst zu geben. Die Würde des Techno ist unantastbar.
Der Track AUGEN ZU von T.RAUMSCHMIERE ist für mich eines der schönsten Meisterstücke in der Tradition des oktavbassgeschwängerten Umta-Umta Techno. Einige wenige markant brilliante Textzeilen, vom Meister selbst in deutscher Sprache durch die Maschinen geschickt, gepaart mit einem Sequenzer der keine Gefangenen macht, lassen keine Fragen offen. Da geht mir Herz und Rucksack auf. Solche Tracks werden wir immer brauchen, um uns an uns selbst zu erinnern. Um uns immer wieder selbst zu vergessen. Smash-Hits der Unvernunft! Oder die schönste Liebeserklärung an eine Musik, die ihre magischsten Momente immer aus dem gezogen hat, was zwischen den Bassdrumschlägen passiert. Das funktioniert aber nur, wenn die Bassdrum gerade ist und es für immer bleibt. Und Marco Haas und Reinhard Voigt wissen das. Denn nach Techno kommt immer noch Techno.
A 12" that has been bubbling under the radar for a while is the ridiculously catchy "Beach Boy" by Vertical Lines. The vocal side is almost Stevie Wonder-like in its delivery with some great vocals by Barry Michael Cooper who carries the groove perfectly. Works well with both Disco and 'Yacht Rock' audiences alike.
The instrumental track is a prime slice of vintage 1982 drum-programming and a very early executive production from Tuff City owner, Aaron Fuchs. Recently featured in Dam-Funks sets, "Beach Boy" has been growing in popularity over the last couple of years and will fit into creative sets like a dream. Needs to be played LOUD over a great system!
The latest from Mr. K and Most Excellent Unlimited pairs lowdown and stomping disco from an unlikely source with a funked-out floorfiller from some very familiar voices.
Minnie Riperton’s 1977 single “Stick Together” was an outlier in her catalog of smooth modern soul, an intentional nod in the direction of the prevailing disco sound. Co-written with Stevie Wonder, “Stick Together” in its original single release was divided into two parts, the first a fairly conventional uptempo cut with all the catchy qualities you’d expect from Stevie and the husband and wife team of Richard Rudolph and Minnie. It was the second half of the song that caught the ears of DJs who played for funkier dancefloors, however. Freddie Perren, a former member of Motown’s legendary Corporation collective of songwriters and producers, and a man then red-hot off his success with Tavares’ “Heaven Must Be Missing An Angel” and the Sylvers’ “Boogie Fever,” was on production duties, and the song clearly benefits from his disco-friendly touch. In Mr. K’s epic edit we are treated to a lengthy exploration of the second part of “Stick Together,” featuring keyboardist Sonny Burke (veteran of Marvin Gaye’s band and fresh from playing on Candi Staton’s disco smash “Young Hearts Run Free”) working out an irresistible Jingo-esque piano part, Riperton’s sensual ad-libs, and, as if that wasn’t enough, a cameo appearance by Pam Grier on finger snaps! Krivit’s 8-minute-plus edit passes way too quickly to get enough of the hypnotic groove — rewinds are called for!
Our flip side, “Body Language,” originated as an album cut on the Jackson Five’s last album of original material for Motown, Moving Violation, recorded before Jermaine left to go solo and the remaining brothers joined Epic Records in a new incarnation as the Jacksons. For such an obvious heater it’s puzzling why the label never released it as a single; but regardless of that apparent misstep, “Body Language” has long been a sure shot in many DJs’ bags. With his new edit, Mr. K presents the track in its ultimate form, loud, remastered, stretched out and rippling with energy over a full six minutes. With an iconic bass line that just doesn’t quit, and Michael and the boys in fine form, it’s impossible to imagine a situation where this wouldn’t set the room on fire.
On his fourth album proper, Now Here No Where, Danish producer Kölsch (aka Rune Reilly Kölsch) is charting new terrain. Fans of his ‘years trilogy’ – 1977, 1983 and 1989, released on Kompakt over the past decade – were privy to a kind of sonic diary, an autobiography, tracking the artist’s early years through three albums of superior, meticulously rendered techno. Calling in collaborators where needed – most notably, the strings of Gregor Schwellenbach – there was still something deeply personal going down, not quite hermetic, but internally focused; the albums proved not only Kölsch’s mastery of his chosen form, but also his capacity to make techno personal, individual, and to trace histories of the self through music. But on Now Here No Where, Kölsch finds his feet firmly planted in the present. Reflecting on his new album, he notes, “It is fascinating to write about memories and feelings that have had years to manifest and develop, but how would I approach current emotions?” It’s a good question: our past coheres through the narratives we build around memories, but the moment we’re in, the newness of the now-ness, is harder to navigate; this story is as yet untold. For Kölsch, this makes Nowhere Now Here “an album about life in the year 2020. A time defined by confusion, misinformation and environmental challenges. It is an emotional interpretation of personal and mental challenges, observations and personal growth.” Kölsch does this with music that effortlessly balances emotional heft with the dancefloor’s brimming desires. It’s a space that Kölsch has navigated for a while now – one of techno’s breakthrough acts, an in-demand DJ across the globe and a prolific and restlessly creative producer, he’s also Kompakt’s biggest-selling act – but Now Here No Where ratchets up the lushness, making for a delirious drift across twelve tracks that are at once perfectly poised and deeply trippy. “Great Escape” is an elegant swoon, an opener that pivots on a sigh and a prayer; then “Shoulder Of Giants” bustles into view, subliminal clatter and an aching violin line giving way to a riff that glows with fluorescence and iridescence. “Remind You” combines an odd ECM jazziness with notes from a twenty-first century torch song; “Sleeper Must Awaken” mines huge buzzing synths and lets them float, in and out of sync, with reduced, ticking beats; “Traumfabrik” (dream factory – there’s a giveaway) is oddly lush, the tones malleable and plastic, morphing across a glitching undertow. There are sad, emotional washes of strings throughout the penultimate “While Waiting For Something To Care About”, while “Romtech User Manual”’s patterns twist and shape in the light. Throughout, Kölsch never keeps his eye off the dancefloor, and you can tell this is his still his home. “The amount of energy and joy I experience every time I perform, has a profound effect on me. It has inspired me so much of late and has become an integral part of my musicality.” “The way we join in expressing our hope for the future every weekend has given me so much,” Kölsch concludes. The club as a temporary autonomous zone, as a space both of freedom and of politics; somehow, that’s all here, Now Here No Where. “Most of all, it is an album about hope.”
Auf seinem vierten Album “Now Here No Where” betritt der dänische Produzent Kölsch (alias Rune Reilly Kölsch) neues Terrain. Seine Trilogie mit den Jahreszahlen 1977, 1983 und 1989, die in den letzten zehn Jahren bei Kompakt erschienen war, hatte seine Fans durch eine Art akustisches Tagebuch, eine Autobiografie geführt, die die frühen Jahre des Künstlers über die Länge von drei großartig produzierten Techno-Alben nachgezeichnet hatte. Wo es nötig war, wurden Kollaborateure hinzugezogen - allen voran für die Streicher, arrangiert von Gregor Schwellenbach -, dennoch zeichnete die Musik immer auch etwas zutiefst Persönliches aus, etwas nicht Hermetisches, auf eine bestimmte Art immer auch nach Innen fokussiert. Die Alben bewiesen nicht nur, wie sehr Kölsch die von ihm gewählte äußere Form beherrscht, sondern auch seine Fähigkeit, Techno zu etwas Persönlichem und Individuellem zu machen und der eigene Geschichte durch Musik näher zu kommen.
Auf “Now Here No Where” steht Kölsch nun mit beiden Beinen fest auf dem Boden der Gegenwart. Mit Blick auf sein neues Album stellt er fest: "Es ist faszinierend, über Erinnerungen und Gefühle zu schreiben, die Zeit hatten, sich zu manifestieren und zu entwickeln, aber wie nähere ich mich meinen aktuellen Emotionen?”. Eine gute Frage: Unsere Vergangenheit wird im Innersten zusammengehalten durch Geschichten, die aus Erinnerungen entstehen, aber der Moment, in dem wir uns befinden, die Neuheit des Neuen, ist schwieriger zu beschreiben; die Geschichte ist noch nicht erzählt. Für Kölsch ist “No Here Now Where” daher "ein Album über das Leben im Jahr 2020. Eine Zeit, die von Verwirrung, Desinformation und ökologischen Herausforderungen geprägt ist. Es geht dabei um die emotionale Interpretation von persönlichen und mentalen Herausforderungen, von Beobachtungen und der eigenen, individuellen Weiterentwicklung".
Kölsch tut dies mit Musik, die mühelos kleine Gefühlsausbrüche mit den großen Sehnsüchten der Tanzfläche in Einklang bringt. Es ist dieser Zwischenraum, in dem sich Kölsch schon seit einiger Zeit bewegt, als weltweit gefragter und gefeierter Live Act, DJ und so unermüdlicher wie kreativer Produzent (nicht umsonst ist Kölsch der “biggest-selling-artist” bei Kompakt), doch “Now Here No Where” treibt all das noch weiter auf die Spitze: ein enormer Sog entsteht, der uns über zwölf Tracks hinweg gefangen hält wie ein perfekt ausbalancierter Trip. Der Opener "Great Escape" ist pure Eleganz, ein Track, der irgendwo zwischen Seufzer und Gebet hin und her schwankt; dann drängt "Shoulder Of Giants" ins Blickfeld, ein unterschwelliges Geklapper, eine wehende Geige, schließlich ein schillernder Riff, der in der Dunkelheit zu leuchten und zu glühen scheint.
"Remind You" kombiniert seltsamen ECM-Jazz mit einem sentimentalen Liebeslied des 21. Jahrhunderts; "Sleeper Must Awaken" schürft im Bergwerk riesiger Synthesizer, mal im Takt, mal aus dem Takt ticken die minimalen Beats; "Traumfabrik" ist ungewöhnlich “lush”, die einzelnen Töne, geschmeidig und modelliert, zerfließen in einem glitzernden Abgrund. Das vorletzte Stück "While Waiting For Something To Care About" wird von traurigen, emotionalen Strings untermalt, während sich die Strukturen von "Romtech User Manual" im Licht drehen und immer wieder neu formieren. Die ganze Zeit über behält Kölsch die Tanzfläche im Auge, und man merkt ihm an, dass sie immer noch sein Zuhause ist: "Die Menge an Energie und Freude, die ich bei jedem Auftritt erlebe, hat eine tiefe Wirkung auf mich. Sie hat mich gerade in letzter Zeit stark inspiriert und ist zu einem integralen Bestandteil meiner Musik geworden.”
"Die Art und Weise, wie wir an jedem Wochenende gemeinsam unsere Hoffnung auf eine bessere Zukunft zum Ausdruck bringen, hat mir viel gegeben", so Kölsch abschließend. Die Vision des Clubs als eine temporäre autonome Zone, als ein Raum von großer Freiheit aber auch von politischen Ideen, das ist irgendwie alles hier drin, Now Here No Where. "Es ist vor allem ein Album über Hoffnung."
Environments are sticky, they stick to whatever happens within them. They can’t help it. And neither can you.
Land of the Few and Far Between / Songs for St. Michel is a collection of musical ‘figures’ written and recorded in 2022 and 2023 using a method Lyckle and Kim call the ‘snelkookpan’, translated as the pressure cooker. The ’snelkookpan’ in essence is trying to write and live-record as many musical figures in a given timeframe in a specific place. For ‘Land of the Few and Far Between’ this was an afternoon and evening in an exhibition Kim had curated about collecting and memory in The Hague. For ‘Songs of St. Michel’ this was 6 days in the basement of an art institution in Maastricht where they were joined by Otto de Jong on guitar. The figures are usually worked out by ear, sometimes improvised, sometimes written down, but often they are simply remembered and soon after recording forgotten. For ‘Land of the Few and Far Between’ they recorded ten figures. For ‘Songs for St. Michel’ fifteen. Of each a selection of five ended up on this seven inch.
F. van Abeelen (one of whom’s drawings is pictured on the sleeve of this seven inch and of whom 750 drawings were part of the exhibition mentioned above) was forced as a boy to hide in a basement for years. Only a small window gave access to the outside world. That sliver was his reality. After these years in hiding he began drawing his sliver of reality obsessively. Daily series of similar drawings that he would meticulously catalogue in an organizer. We never met F. Our friend who discovered the drawings in a closet of psychiatric nursing home Dorestad never met F. We only recorded ten musical figures next to 750 drawings by F.
St. Michel is a house that stands on the outskirts of Maastricht. It is built on the floodplains of the river Maas and living there you see the river change daily. It is a river fed by rain. No rain means a low river. Rain means a river that sometimes comes frighteningly close to flooding. Which it sometimes does. Due to the ebb and flow of the Maas, stuff is deposited in the boggy areas that are its floodplains. A shoe, a CD, a drone, some wood.
Places impress themselves onto what you are doing. You become an unwitting prop in the place’s story.
The first ‘snelkookpan’ happened in 2017 in the water-basin of one of the earliest concrete structures in the Netherlands; a bunker that was part of Amsterdam’s defensive line, built around the 1890’s. Something that used to house water was now empty. For three days Kim and Lyckle recorded improvised music there, which is still alive on a hard drive somewhere. In 2020 they recorded ‘the third of May’ at an old pumping station in Den Helder; an eleven part piece of auditory historical-horror which was released by South of North in 2024. Since 2023 Lyckle and Kim have mainly recorded live shows. With a Clarinet, kawai K1, Ipad, organelle, samplers and a variety of instruments curated for their minimal size or odd sound they’ve made chains of brief and improvised mini compositions inspired by browsing environments (digital and otherwise).
Land of the Few and Far Between / Songs for St. Michel adds to this growing collection of recordings for environments that are somehow sticky.
01: Martigny (1991) for computer-controlled synthesizer
02: 24 Chorales for Chris Mann (1991) for computer-controlled synthesizer
03: A Post-Modern Object-Oriented Chaotic Cellular Microtonal Teledildonic Virtual Simulacra! (Buzzwords (that might have gotten you tenure) for sampled orchestra)
EM Records is proud to release Three Movements from “Some Kind of Seasoning” by the eminent Warren Burt: composer (and performer, writer, instrument builder, educator) of genius. Burt was born in 1949 in the USA, and moved to Australia in 1975. Throughout his long and inspired career, his expansive aesthetic has eagerly embraced microtonality, improvisation and technology, fusing these elements in often humorous and/or irreverent compositions based on live interaction with intelligent or semi-intelligent machine processes. He sets up machine-generated musical environments and then “wanders through” their rules and behaviors, exploring the resulting possibilities in a manner which never results in tech-driven alienation or alienating randomness; Burt’s keen and personable musical intelligence is always evident. This release features music from the final sections of a near-six-hour epic cycle of interactive computer and synthesizer pieces from 1990-91, investigating the magical intermediate space between the human and the mechanical. Dedicated to Kenneth Gaburo, the music draws on wide-ranging inspirations including Sun Ra and Elliott Carter, Quincy Jones’ “Setembro” and Charles Ives, Portsmouth Sinfonia and ancient Greek modes. With good-natured humor, an openness to the excellence of “mistakes” and a wide range of timbres, the music includes progressions of "traditionally musical" pitches, delicate textures of sustained electronic tones, raucous and noisy combinations of sound. Available on 12” LP, CD and DL, with liner notes by the composer.
c 03: A Post-Modern Object-Oriented Chaotic Cellular Microtonal Teledildonic Virtual Simulacra! (Buzzwords (that might have gotten you tenure) for sampled orchestra) [1991] for computer-controlled synthesizer
[c] 03: A Post-Modern Object-Oriented Chaotic Cellular Microtonal Teledildonic Virtual Simulacra! (Buzzwords (that might have gotten you tenure) for sampled orchestra) [1991] for computer-controlled synthesizer
he Congos possess what all bands look for, that unique distinctive sound that draws the listener in. Alongside the great songs, lead singer Cedric Myton's singing, phasing and falsetto voice makes that just the case.
The Congos were formed by Cedric Myton (b. 1947, St Catherine, Jamaica) around the mid-Seventies when the
Rasta message was central to the reggae sound coming out of Kingston, Jamaica. But he had started out in the
Rocksteady era, when he formed the vocal group 'Tartans', taking lead vocal duties alongside Devon Russell, Prince Lincoln Thompson and Lindbergh Lewis.They cut 'Dance All Night' (1967) and 'Coming On Strong' (1968). The line-Up became The Royal Rasses and from this Cedric moved on to form the Congos on meeting Roydel Johnson, who had previously sang with Ras Michael and the Sons of Negas. Cedric's Rasta roots were firmly in place when he went to work with producer Lee Perry to cut the seminal album 'Heart Of The Congos' at Perry's just built, Black Ark Studios in 1977. Cedric Myton has carried on the mantle, cutting a set of tunes with the help of his good friend Mr Brent Dowe, who had previously sang lead vocals with the Melodians.This is the Dub set to the vocal album released on the Kingston
Sounds label called 'The Congos Feast'(KS008).With such strong songs, rhythms and vocals it always had the chemistry for a great dub set. Hope you agree and enjoy the dub excursion...
December 2012 I showed up totally exhausted in Vancouver BC after touring stupidly and relentlessly for however many straight months and got a job at a call centre raising money for the Red Cross. It was a scent free office but one time this woman cooked a piece of fish in the microwave for 10 minutes on low and hot boxed the whole office - we got sent home early no pay. There was the other woman I named the Call Centre Coltrane because her pitch and routine usually involved improvised flights of fancy that went off in both directions at once somehow landing back down with a credit card number and a donation. I used to sleep under the desk. I was there a few months and at the time I reconnected with John Brennan who I had played with briefly in Montreal at the Mutek Festival. In Montreal John was running an experimental music night at a burrito shop downtown called Garbage Night. While in Vancouver I began connecting with the music scene there and would go hang out with the Shearing Pinx lads who I think lived with Sydney the bass player at the time. I knew Nic and Jer from an AIDS Wolf Tour and was so stoked to get to know them both better. I really fell in love with that era of Vancouver's music scene.
Fast Forward to today. 2024
Actually it was the dying days of 2023 but you get it and John asks if I'll sit in with Earth Ball and I keep thinking about Earth Balance, the vegan butter everyone eats here. I brought my aching bones and my ipads on the beautiful ferry named the Queen of Oak Bay and out to Nanaimo BC, home of the nanaimo bar (a dessert treat - special to this region - that seems to be more popularly found under the weird glass sneeze guards in office building deli's out east in Ontario.... anyhoops ). No one in Nanaimo wants to talk to me about the famous treat. I asked a couple of people. Silence. Nanaimo is like London, Ontario but more fried and by the sea. The town is filled with blown out old sea dawgs with tin coffee pots and loose leaf tobacco, then there's the usual streetfolk you find in this part of the Canadian Pacific Northwest and a bunch of bohemians who I guess have left Vancouver behind - that fine city having become uninhabitable for those not making over 100k a year. And then up the way are all the retirees.
Yup Nanaimo is a strange one. They mined the shit out of this region and Nanaimo is surely haunted by those buried in mining shafts or maimed by the heavy machinery or blown up by accident in the explosives store house. And when Earth Ball fire up the amps in Izzy and Jer's basement you can hear the voices of the ghosts hum through electrical lines and out the speakers, Kellen's hued feedback, Izy's sturdy basslines, Jer's paperbag guitar tone and rumble pack zaps, Liam's (aka the Kid) sheets of sound and Brennen's multidirectional drums.
You wouldn't guess Earth Ball was auto-composing and from what my rat brain can tell - the lyrics are improvised too...Improvising lyrics and singing them is the hardest thing to do in all of music.. Izzy and Jer are pros. And their attitudes are pro too.
The live show is scorched and without naming names they've been known to make headliners nervous. Lucky ones will get to see them live as they tour this beast of a record entitled ‘It’s Yours’ (out May 17th on Upset The Rhythm) and I hope I'm one of them.
But now you, fan of fun but totally fucked up music, have the opportunity to Ball with them thanks to Upset The Rhythm. Enjoy
-Alex Moskos, Montreal QC, Feb 2024
Black Truffle is thrilled to announce a second volume of unheard concert performances from legendary Pakistani kyhal singer Salamat Ali Khan, recorded at Berlin’s Neue Nationalgalerie as part of the MetaMusik festival in 1974. Like the first volume, the immaculate recording by Michael Hönig (of krautrock legends Agitation Free) captures Khan performing a single extended raag in the company of Shaukat Hussein Khan on tabla and Hussein Bux Khan on harmonium. In addition to his stunningly inventive and moving vocal performance, Khan is heard accompanying himself on a specially tuned alpine zither (in place of the traditional swarmandal, an Indian style of zither). The lack of an underlying tanpura drone gives the music its characteristic floating quality, with the three instruments and voice masterfully dancing around one another as they sketch the outlines of this grand, 40-minute Raag Chandrakauns.
If anything, this epic performance of the late-night Raag Chandrakauns is even more seductively spacious and psychedelic than the music heard on the first volume. Obeying the traditional shape of Hindustani classical vocal music performance, a gradual rise in both pitch and rhythmic activity, the music hovers for twenty minutes in a reflective calm, the pulse only gently stated by the tabla while harmonium ornamentation and zither strums float by. In this meditative space, Khan gradually orients us to the contours of the raag, beginning with long notes at the bottom of his register. His improvisation at once builds with a stunningly firm sense of internal logic and seems liberated to explore every melodic and ornamental byway that comes up along the way. By the time we turn to the record’s second side, the music has grown into something far more frenetic, with virtuoso tabla passages at times occupying centre stage between Khan’s increasingly rhythmic melodic variations. Concluding with a sequence of unison tabla and voice passages of breathtaking complexity, the performance is met with rapturous applause. Arriving in a blue-toned variant of the first volume’s sleeve, with acclaimed musicologist Peter Pannke’s liner notes in the original German, Metamusik Festival Berlin ’74 Volume II is not to be missed. Essential listening not just for Hidustanti classic aficionados, but for anyone who needs reminding of the magic of collective music making in the moment.
New full-length from MINIATURa, following Geometria Prohibida (Keroxen, 2020). Espectral was recorded inside the iconic Keroxen oil tank in Tenerife — a brutalist chamber whose metallic resonance seeps into every track.
Motorik tension, post-punk restraint, shoegaze and darkwave undertow surface and dissolve throughout, but this is no genre exercise. The album feels lived-in and physical: drums hanging in open air, guitars stretching into steel-lined decay, moments of synthetic clarity torn open by abrasion. Propulsion and erosion move side by side.
There’s a rawness here that isn’t aesthetic — it’s architectural. The tank becomes a silent collaborator, shaping space as much as sound.
Lyrically, Espectral unfolds through elliptical micro-poetry, tracing life, love, death and social fracture in fragments rather than declarations. Nothing is fixed; everything hovers.
One of the strongest independent statements to emerge from the Canary Islands in recent years, Espectral finds MINIATURa operating on its own frequency — austere, immersive, and built to linger.
"Back in 2022, Ban Ban Ton Ton raved about George T’s then digital-only release, “Roll On, Kings Cross”. We described it as a “dynamite dose of poetry and digidub.” Likening the prose – which describes a train journey from the coast to the city – to Michael Smith and Joe Duggan, while comparing the production to Dennis Bovell’s remixes of Jarvis Cocker’s “Swanky Modes”, and The Sabres Of Paradise’s “Wilmot”. Melodica-led with a hefty post-punk flavour, its dub, which focuses on manipulating and morphing the bass-line, we called “hollowed out house.”
These tracks have now been pressed to vinyl for the second release on new imprint Noetic Rhythm, where they’re joined by Leonidas’ “Great Northern” mix. Eschewing his usual futuristic ethno techno jacking, here he drops into roots reggae. Creating something more skanking, more stepping. An extended “discomix” showered in filtered, Mutron Bi-phased percussion, ghostly horns and peppered with the odd syndrum pop. Washes of sampled surf appropriately accompanying George informing us that “to the left there’s the sea.”
The 12 also features, “Dr Doctor”, a fresh collaboration with Yas Mine, The singer / guitarist’s French vocals countering George’s Matt Johnson-esque delivery, and a John Barry / “Midnight Cowboy”-like melodica melody serenading the song’s slow, squelchy, electronic skanking. The dub, instead, showcasing Yas’ fine fretwork." BAN BAN TON TON review
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"These tracks are massive! I love Roll On King's Cross the best" KAY SUZKI (Time Capsule)
"I played the dub (Dub On, King's Cross) at a club in Oslo alongside some Maurizio and it sounded great. Bit of an oddball." Also played on NTS Radio and in Mixmag mix. JONNIE WILKES // OPTIMO
"Really digging Mr Demure when he drops into dubwise" DR ROB // BAN BAN TON TON
"Yes. Nice" NICK THE RECORD
"Awesome" JONNY ROCK
"I really like this EP... Love the Leonidas dub!" CEDRIC WOO (Beauty & The Beat, LDN)
"Love the blend of Augustus P vibes with a post punk dub feel. Bingo!" DICKY TRISCO
"I love it and will be playing" TREVOR FUNG (Ibiza Legend)
"Yes this is dark but kinda friendly.... brilliant...It's like ghost town ...I love Leo's mix" FOR MANKIND (Pikes Ibiza)
"Love the release and LOVE LOVE LOVE Dr Doctor!!!! Psyched to play this one out all weekend." ZILLAS ON ACID // James Weissinger (Philadelphia, US)
"This is amazing. Dub on kings cross is a banger - really love this one" ARVEENE
"Loving the Leonidas dub" ATEMI (Blackbush Orchestra / Abstrack)
+
PREVIOUSLY
"Melodica heaven" JD TWITCH/OPTIMO (RIP)
"I love this" IVAN SMAGGHE
"It's hot!!" JONNY ROCK
+ plays/support from:
DON LETTS (BBC 6Music)
TOM RAVENSCROFT (BBC 6Music)
HARRI (Sub Club)
[f] Roll On, King's Cross [Leonidas' Great Northern Mix] 06:54
[g] Dr Doctor [Instrumental Mix] 03:25
Hailing from Athens, Georgia, Now It’s Overhead is the acclaimed indie rock band fronted by Andy LeMaster. Emerging in the early 2000s alongside the era-defining Saddle Creek scene, LeMaster collaborated with artists including Conor Oberst (Bright Eyes), Michael Stipe (R.E.M.), Orenda Fink (Azure Ray), and Maria Taylor (Azure Ray).
During this period, Now It’s Overhead released three acclaimed full-length albums: Now It’s Overhead (2001), Fall Back Open (2004), and Dark Light Daybreak (2006). Available on vinyl for the first time, these long-awaited editions are essential for listeners and collectors exploring the indie rock landscape of the early 2000s. All three albums have been newly remastered by Andy LeMaster—musician, songwriter, engineer, producer, and visual artist.
The Associated Press described Now It’s Overhead as “a unique brand of organic and synthetic dark pop—made possible by LeMaster’s studio prowess—that remains distinctive even when Conor Oberst and Michael Stipe briefly stop by.”
Accompanying these reissues, Now It’s Overhead is also releasing new music for the first time in nearly twenty years. The five-song EP, in the beginning, arrives digitally on September 18, 2026.
The Definitive live album from 1965, expanded to include the entire concert performance! Deluxe packaging with extensive notes & unpublished images, remastered by Grammy-winner Michael Graves, and produced with the full cooperation of the Ray Charles Foundation. Originally edited down to fit on a single LP, this edition includes every note performed at his now-legendary Shrine Auditorium concert, including spectacular performances of “Georgia On My Mind,” and “Busted,” that were left off of the iconic 1965 release. This expanded edition presents that legendary night at LA’s Shrine Auditorium exactly as the audience heard it, and includes liner notes and photos that tell the whole amazing story of how the show and the album came to be.
Kenichiro Nishihara made a spectacular debut in 2008 with his first album ”Humming Jazz,” and is one of the most important figures in Japanese jazzy hip-hop, receiving high acclaim in the lo-fi hip-hop scene that continues the lineage of Nujabes.
a A1: Up All Night feat. SIRUP (DJ Mitsu the Beats Remix) feat. SIRUP
[b] B1: Heartless feat. Michael Kaneko (KAZUMI KANEDA Remix) [feat. Michael Kaneko]
[a] A1: Up All Night feat. SIRUP (DJ Mitsu the Beats Remix) [feat. SIRUP]
[b] B1: Heartless feat. Michael Kaneko (KAZUMI KANEDA Remix) [feat. Michael Kaneko]
[a] A1: Up All Night feat. SIRUP (DJ Mitsu the Beats Remix) [feat. SIRUP]
[b] B1: Heartless feat. Michael Kaneko (KAZUMI KANEDA Remix) [feat. Michael Kaneko]