Cerca:mind fair

While 1995's Washing Machine LP moniker was a thinly-veiled jab at the corporate aesthetic ("no, you cannot turn Sonic Youth into a household appliance brand", the band even considered changing its name to Washing Machine but settled on the album title instead), their major label relationship was indeed a curious buzzpoint of talk on the street after their intake to DGC in 1990. It wouldn't be fair to say that this state of existence propelled the band to reinforce its independent mindset by releasing a series of opaque-looking, French-language-dipping, highbrow-looking releases on their own that focused on the more abstract improv/compositional side of the band; in all truths they had been heavily steeped in self-releasing spillover material prior to that. But after a pressure pot of the early 90's indoctrination into a new operational mode for the band and its visibility, and the forces around it attempting to shape their direction, it seemed like a good time to create a strong show of radical concept.

The Anagrama EP became the first in a series of the SYR label's Perspective Musicales releases seemingly cementing Sonic Youth's connectivity to an increasing public awareness in experimental composers of the 20th century (French or otherwise). The irony was that many of those original avant composers being rediscovered by the indie audience (Partch, Neuhaus, Reich, Messaien) often found themselves on major labels anyway! So, perhaps this reverse approach was a necessary concept/comment given the music biz climate of the 90's. Regardless of how apples and oranges fell in Xenakian probability/theory, it was clear that both Sonic Youth's stature in progressive music, aided by now unlimited taperoll time thanks to a home base studio downtown established after their Lollapalooza stint, gave the band plenty of trailblazing time for their self examination of untraveled avenues.

"Anagrama" unfolds into nine minutes of delicate textures, starting with thick drone segueing into moments reminiscent of the post-crescendo flutter/comedown of "Marquee Moon's" trail-out; Thurston, Lee and Kim's guitars all circling round each other taking delicate pokes and stabs before drifting into some post-rock rhythmic moves tapered with delicate percussive guidance from Steve Shelley. "Improvisation Ajoutée" reaches further out into dissolve with whirring oscillations, guitars hissing and clanking radiator-style in a short blast format that continues into "Tremens" and a spooked-out landscape of gelatinous notes snaking up slowly. The sparseness of attack is colorful, textures emit and linger, silent spots shine, all flanked by tasteful drumming that provides the thread to all the abstraction. Shelley's approach here is interestingly sideways to any kind of usual rock action, it's tempered, mutant and metronomic simultaneously. The finale track "Mieux: De Corrosion" is a real pedal-palatte showcase. Here, Plutonian guitar wash flanges upwards to buoy a myriad of colorful eruptions of amp-spuzz, chopped up tone blasts and general confusion. Out of the blue, some metallic one-note choogle kicks in and threatens to explode into some Judas Priestly motion, before it all sputters into aural glass showers, clang, and finally a ferocious wave of more flange hiss that crashes down on a dime.

This initial foray into SY's Perspectives Musicales series continued onward with releases featuring other co-conspirators, peaking with the ambitious 2CD Goodbye 20th Century that finally connects the band into full-on interpretations of other composers' pieces (as well as displaying their own new ones). The whole series is not so much an outlet for another "side" of the band, but a run that went hand in hand building new approaches of songcraft onto their own, more overground direction which included Jim O'Rourke (who hopped on during SYR3), adding additional density to A Thousand Leaves and other LPs of his era. Fans of the '86 Spinhead Sessions as well as the recently-exhumed later jams of In/Out/In will take in the sounds of SYR1 with glee.

Out of the murky, mystic world of Komodo Kolektif slides the Gamma Knife.

In the corner of a dank, dark mind, a nebulous notion condenses and solidifies, featureless and blind...and from that Komodo Klay a new kreature is hacked, molded and (mal)formed.

“The foundations of some of these pieces were laid almost a decade ago, others more recently. All of them came into being as sketches intended as Komodo Kolektif tracks to develop but for various reasons this didn't happen. The Seven Heavenly Elements was first presented to the group in 2019 but partly through personal differences in musical taste as well as COVID throwing a spanner in the works it was put aside and never worked on collectively. The two Disciple of the Drum 'dubs' are essentially rhythm tracks using the rhythm and percussion of Disciple Of The Drone, also from 2019, stripping away the drone, the gamelan melody and finally, even the bass line, which was initially intended to be the fundamental driving force of at least one of these dubs. In the end neither of these two tracks became anything like the idea that I had in mind, but that's how creativity works sometimes. The vocal parts in Cantation Dub were added most recently, just a few months ago. Fire Dub is just an exercise in me trying to rein in some insane delays and barely managing. The Ghost of Water is an anomaly because many of the fundamental parts are taken from the same jam session recorded in 2015 that led to Djakarta 3001 from the first EP. If you listen closely you'll hear Graeme Miller on guitar (back when guitar was still featured in our weekly jam sessions). I discovered this unedited hour-long jam session on an older hard drive in late 2023 and decided to fashion something from it until what became Ghost of Water materialised: the heavily delayed saron instruments, the jaw harp, the percussion and so on. What makes the track an anomaly is that it is in some ways both the oldest and newest piece of the five. The Seventh Element takes one of the seven elements of The Seven Heavenly Elements (in this case the Mopho synth tuned to the Indonesian pelog scale and ran through the Boss DE-200's depth modulator) to which I then added some gong parts and field recordings from Bali.

Once complete, I realised with an album's worth of material sitting there which was more “Komodo Kolektif” than anything I would normally produce solo, there came the problem of trying to work out what to do with this distinctly Komodo-esque, non-Komodo material. I came up with the idea of releasing it under the name Komodo Kuts...but a part of me felt I'd be cashing in on the Komodo name so ditched that part entirely...but the kuts remained, which seemed appropriate when used alongside my Gamma Knife moniker (which has a long story of its own...in a nutshell I had a benign brain tumour which only 1 in 10,000 people get and which is most frequently removed with a gamma knife (radiation). In medical parlance the device used in this treatment is often shortened to GK machine. I had been using the DJ name GK Machine, which came from my signature GK Mackinnon, since 1994, in other words long before this diagnosis. In the end I had brain surgery in Spain without use of gamma radiation...but the synchronicity of the name connection fascinated me nevertheless. Sometimes the world works in mysterious ways).

Lastly, now that I've sent these tracks out into the world, I feel somewhat liberated and can move on from this fairly niche and specific sound. The gamelan instruments have been returned to Gamelan Naga Mas, from who we'd borrowed them, and the masks hung up. This does not mean that Graeme Miller and I won't work together again in future...I'm sure we will...it just means we won't be tied to working within the constraints of gamelan, synths, percussion and dub that we became known for. So stay tuned...surely something lurks around the corner” GKM, November 2024

Following on from the release of their highly-praised 2020 LP ‘Darkness Brings Wonders Home’, which was applauded by the likes of Mojo, Clash Magazine, Q and many more, alt-folk duo Smoke Fairies return once again to announce the details behind their sixth studio album ‘Carried In Sound’, previewed by the wondrous new single “Vanishing Line”.

Continuing to pursue more of that warm and ethereal aesthetic the pair have cultivated since their earliest beginnings, “Vanishing Line” makes for a wonderfully warm and emotive introduction to their next full-length release. Accompanied by a cinematic video, the new offering tackles the difficult and intimate feelings loss and grief can have on a person and those around them.

A sense of inner strength dominates the new record. In keeping with the times that bore it, ‘Carried In Sound’ isn’t afraid to discuss darkness – but everywhere there is a longing for light. “Although the album has themes of sadness on there, it’s looking at those things from a place of strength,” says Jessica.

»›The Last Will and Testament‹ ist eine Art Konzeptalbum. Eine rastlose musikalische Reise, die in gewisser Weise meine eigene Beziehung zur Musik als Konsument widerspiegelt«, erzählt Bandleader Mikael Åkerfeldt.

»Ich schnappe hier etwas auf, verwerfe dort etwas. Ich bete Musik an und hasse sie gleichzeitig. Diese Ambivalenz führt mich auf eine Art eigenen kreativen Weg, und dann ist plötzlich eine Sammlung von Songs entstanden. Im besten Fall sind diese Lieder gut genug, um die Band zu beeindrucken. Gut genug für die Mächtigen in der Branche. Gut genug für euch?! Ich liebe diese Platte. Ich muss es so sagen (schreiben). Vielleicht bin ich sogar stolz? Ich nehme an, es sind einige vertraute Zutaten dabei. Die meiste unserer Musik stammt aus der gleichen Quelle, also ist es nicht weiter verwunderlich, wenn es nach ›uns‹ klingen wird. Ich bin ein wenig beeindruckt von dem, was wir mit ›The Last Will and Testament‹ gemacht haben. Es fühlt sich wie ein Traum an. Ich hoffe, es gibt eine gewisse ›Kohärenz‹ und ›Songwriting-Fähigkeiten‹, aber was weiß ich schon? Ich neige dazu, das ›Seltsame‹ dem ›Offensichtlichen‹ vorzuziehen, aber ich habe das Gefühl, dass ich in der Minderheit bin, und das ist gut so. Also... faire Warnung! Erwarten Sie keinen sofortigen Rausch (wie üblich), aber wenn Sie es sofort ›kapieren‹ (haben Sie es schon kapiert?), ist das auch in Ordnung!«

One Way Trip to Gaia, Alberta Balsam's debut album, propels listeners into uncharted territory, delivering a futuristic fairytale--a utopian world that serves as a sonic refuge from reality. Building on the electro-IDM foundations of her earlier releases , this record evolves into an odyssey of bass-driven beats, breakbeat rhythms, and dub-infused atmospheres. As her most vocal project to date, the album showcases her ability to merge pop sensibility with otherworldly sound design, all while maintaining that club-ready energy. Limited edition: pressed on a black and silver marbled vinyl. Sleeve design by Timaeus

Camelot, the legendary seat of King Arthur's court in Early Middle Ages Britain, was probably not a real place. A corruption of the name of a real Romano-Briton city, the word "Camelot" accumulated symbolic, mythic resonances over centuries, until achieving its present usage as a near-synonym of "utopia." In the mid-20th century alone, Camelot inspired an explosion of representations and appropriations, among them the violent, affectless Arthurian court of Robert Bresson's 1974 film Lancelot du Lac and the absurdist iteration of Monty Python's 1975 Holy Grail, both of which feature armored knights erupting into fountains of blood; the mystical Welsh world of novelist John Cowper Powys's profoundly weird 1951 novel Porius, with its Roman cults, wizards and witches, and wanton giants; and the nationalist nostalgia of President John F. Kennedy's White House. Unsurprisingly there are fewer Camelots in more recent memory. Camelot, Canadian songwriter Jennifer Castle's extraordinary, moving 2024 chronicle of the artist in early middle age, charts a realer, more rooted, and more metaphorical place than the fabled Camelot of the Early Middle Ages (or its myriad depictions), but it too is a space more psychic than physical. In Castle's Camelot, the fantastic interpenetrates the mundane, and the Grail, if there is one, distills everyday experience into art and art into faith, subliming terrestrial concerns into sublime celestial prayers to Mother Nature, and to the unfolding process of perfecting imperfection in one's own nature. Co-produced by Jennifer and longtime collaborator Jeff McMurrich, her seventh record is at once her most monumental and unguarded to date, demonstrating a mastery of rendering her verse and melodies alike with crisply poignant economy. For all their pointedly plainspoken lyrical detail and exhilarating full-band musical flourishes, these songs sound inevitable, eternal as morning devotions. "Back in Camelot," she sings on the lilting, vulnerable title track, "I really learned a lot / circles in the crops and / sky-high geometry." The album opens with a candid admission of sleeping "in the unfinished basement," an embarrassing joke that comes true. But the dreamer is redeemed by dreaming, setting sail in her airborne bed above "sirens and desert deities." If she questions her own agency_whether she is "wishing stones were standing" or just "pissing in the wind"_it does not diminish the ineffable existential jolt of such signs and wonders. This abiding tension between belief and doubt, magic and pragmatism, self and other, sacred and profane, and even, arguably, paganism and monotheism, suffuses these ten songs, which limn an interior landscape shot through with sunstriped shadows of "multi-felt dimensions" both mystical and quotidian. The epic scale and transport of "Camelot," with its swooning strings, gives way dramatically to "Some Friends," an acoustic-guitar-and-vocals meditation in miniature on Janus-faced friends and the lunar and solar temperatures of their promises_"bright and beaming verses" versus hot curses_which recalls her minimalist last album, 2020's achingly intimate Monarch Season. (In a symmetrical sequencing gesture, the penultimate track, the incantatory "Earthsong," bookends the central six with a similarly spare solo performance and coiled chord progression, this time an ambiguous appeal to _ a wounded lover? a wounded saint? our wounded planet?) Those whom "Trust" accuses of treacherous oaths spit through "gilded and golden tooth"_cynics, critics, hypocrites, gurus, scientists, doctors, lovers, government, the so-called entertainment industry_sow uncertainty that can infect the artist, as in "Louis": "What's that dance / and can it be done? What's that song / and can it be sung?" Answering affirmatively are "Lucky #8," an irrepressible ode to dancing as a bulwark against the "tidal pools of pain" and the "theory of collapse," and "Full Moon in Leo," which finds the narrator dancing around the house with a broom, wearing nothing but her underwear and "big hair." But the central question remains: who can we trust, and at what cost faith, in art or angels or otherwise? Castle's confidence in her collaborators is the cornerstone of Camelot. Carl Didur (piano and keys), Evan Cartwright (drums and percussion), and steadfast sideman Mike Smith (bass) comprise a rhythm section of exquisite delicacy and depth. This fundamental trio anchors the airiness of regular backing vocalists Victoria Cheong and Isla Craig and frames the guitars of Castle, McMurrich, and Paul Mortimer (and on "Lucky #8," special guest Cass McCombs). Reprising his decennial role on Castle's beloved 2014 Pink City, Owen Pallett arranged the strings for Estonia's FAMES Skopje Studio Orchestra. On the ravishing country-soul ballad "Blowing Kisses"_Pallett's crowning achievement here, which can be heard in its entirety in the penultimate episode of the third season of FX's The Bear_Jennifer contemplates time and presence, love and prayer_and how songwriting and poetry both manifest and limit all four dimensions: "No words to fumble with / I'm not a beggar to language any longer." Such rare moments of speechlessness_"I'm so fucking honoured," she bluntly proclaims_suggest a state "only a god could come up with." (If Camelot affirms Castle as one of the great song-poets of her generation, she is not immune to the despairing linguistic beggary that plagues all writers.) Camelot evinces a thoroughgoing faith not only in the natural world_including human bodies, which can, miraculously, dance and swim and bleed and embrace and birth_but also in our interpretations of and interventions in it: the "charts and diagrams" of "Lucky #8," a daydreamt billboard on Fairfax Ave. in LA in "Full Moon in Leo," the bloody invocations of the organ-stained "Mary Miracle," and all manner of water worship, rivers in particular. (Notably, Jennifer has worked as a farmer and a doula.) The album ends with "Fractal Canyon"'s repeated, exalted insistence that she's "not alone here." But where is here? The word "utopia" itself constitutes a pun, indicating in its ambiguous first syllable both the Greek "eutopia," or "good-place"_the facet most remembered today_and "outopia," or "no-place," a negative, impossible geography of the mind. Utopia, like its metonym Camelot, is imaginary. Or as fellow Canadian songwriter Neil Young once sang, "Everyone knows this is nowhere." "Can you see how I'd be tempted," Castle asks out of nowhere, held in the mystery, "to pretend I'm not alone and let the memory bend?"

. For Fans Of: The Weather Station, Weyes Blood, Adrianne Lenker, Phoebe Bridgers, Joan Shelley, Lana Del Rey, Cass McCombs, Angel Olsen & Neil Young. Camelot, the legendary seat of King Arthur’s court in Early Middle Ages Britain, was probably not a real place. A corruption of the name of a real Romano-Briton city, the word “Camelot” accumulated symbolic, mythic resonances over centuries, until achieving its present usage as a near-synonym of “utopia.” In the mid-20th century alone, Camelot inspired an explosion of representations and appropriations, among them the violent, affectless Arthurian court of Robert Bresson’s 1974 film Lancelot du Lac and the absurdist iteration of Monty Python’s 1975 Holy Grail, both of which feature armoured knights erupting into fountains of blood; the mystical Welsh world of novelist John Cowper Powys’s profoundly weird 1951 novel Porius, with its Roman cults, wizards and witches, and wanton giants; and the nationalist nostalgia of President John F. Kennedy’s White House. Unsurprisingly there are fewer Camelots in more recent memory. Camelot, Canadian songwriter Jennifer Castle’s extraordinary, moving 2024 chronicle of the artist in early middle age, charts a realer, more rooted, and more metaphorical place than the fabled Camelot of the Early Middle Ages (or its myriad depictions), but it too is a space more psychic than physical. In Castle’s Camelot, the fantastic interpenetrates the mundane, and the Grail, if there is one, distills everyday experience into art and art into faith, subliming terrestrial concerns into sublime celestial prayers to Mother Nature, and to the unfolding process of perfecting imperfection in one’s own nature. Co-produced by Jennifer and longtime collaborator Jeff McMurrich, her seventh record is at once her most monumental and unguarded to date, demonstrating a mastery of rendering her verse and melodies alike with crisply poignant economy. For all their pointedly plainspoken lyrical detail and exhilarating full-band musical flourishes, these songs sound inevitable, eternal as morning devotions. “Back in Camelot,” she sings on the lilting, vulnerable title track, “I really learned a lot / circles in the crops and / sky-high geometry.” The album opens with a candid admission of sleeping “in the unfinished basement,” an embarrassing joke that comes true. But the dreamer is redeemed by dreaming, setting sail in her airborne bed above “sirens and desert deities.” If she questions her own agency whether she is “wishing stones were standing” or just “pissing in the wind” it does not diminish the ineffable existential jolt of such signs and wonders. This abiding tension between belief and doubt, magic and pragmatism, self and other, sacred and profane, and even, arguably, paganism and monotheism, suffuses these ten songs, which limn an interior landscape shot through with sunstriped shadows of “multi-felt dimensions” both mystical and quotidian. The epic scale and transport of “Camelot,” with its swooning strings, gives way dramatically to “Some Friends,” an acoustic-guitar-and-vocals meditation in miniature on Janus-faced friends and the lunar and solar temperatures of their promises—“bright and beaming verses” versus hot curses which recalls her minimalist last album, 2020’s achingly intimate Monarch Season. (In a symmetrical sequencing gesture, the penultimate track, the incantatory “Earthsong,” bookends the central six with a similarly spare solo performance and coiled chord progression, this time an ambiguous appeal to … a wounded lover? a wounded saint? our wounded planet?). Those whom “Trust” accuses of treacherous oaths spit through “gilded and golden tooth” cynics, critics, hypocrites, gurus, scientists, doctors, lovers, government, the so-called entertainment industry sow uncertainty that can infect the artist, as in “Louis”: “What’s that dance / and can it be done? What’s that song / and can it be sung?” Answering affirmatively are “Lucky #8,” an irrepressible ode to dancing as a bulwark against the “tidal pools of pain” and the “theory of collapse,” and “Full Moon in Leo,” which finds the narrator dancing around the house with a broom, wearing nothing but her underwear and “big hair.” But the central question remains: who can we trust, and at what cost faith, in art or angels or otherwise? Castle’s confidence in her collaborators is the cornerstone of Camelot. Carl Didur (piano and keys), Evan Cartwright (drums and percussion), and steadfast sideman Mike Smith (bass) comprise a rhythm section of exquisite delicacy and depth. This fundamental trio anchors the airiness of regular backing vocalists Victoria Cheong and Isla Craig and frames the guitars of Castle, McMurrich, and Paul Mortimer (and on “Lucky #8,” special guest Cass McCombs). Reprising his decennial role on Castle’s beloved 2014 Pink City, Owen Pallett arranged the strings for Estonia’s FAMES Skopje Studio Orchestra. On the ravishing country-soul ballad “Blowing Kisses” Pallett’s crowning achievement here, which can be heard in its entirety in the penultimate episode of the third season of FX’s The Bear Jennifer contemplates time and presence, love and prayer and how songwriting and poetry both manifest and limit all four dimensions: “No words to fumble with / I’m not a beggar to language any longer.” Such rare moments of speechlessness “I’m so fucking honoured,” she bluntly proclaims suggest a state “only a god could come up with.” (If Camelot affirms Castle as one of the great song-poets of her generation, she is not immune to the despairing linguistic beggary that plagues all writers.) Camelot evinces a thoroughgoing faith not only in the natural world including human bodies, which can, miraculously, dance and swim and bleed and embrace and birth but also in our interpretations of and interventions in it: the “charts and diagrams” of “Lucky #8,” a daydreamt billboard on Fairfax Ave. in LA in “Full Moon in Leo,” the bloody invocations of the organ-stained “Mary Miracle,” and all manner of water worship, rivers in particular. (Notably, Jennifer has worked as a farmer and a doula.) The album ends with “Fractal Canyon”s repeated, exalted insistence that she’s “not alone here.” But where is here? The word “utopia” itself constitutes a pun, indicating in its ambiguous first syllable both the Greek “eutopia,” or “good-place” the facet most remembered today and “outopia,” or “no-place,” a negative, impossible geography of the mind. Utopia, like its metonym Camelot, is imaginary

Top-Livealbum des ehemaligen The Stranglers-Frontmanns Hugh Cornwell, das auf den UK-Touren nach seinem 10. Soloalbum "Moments Of Madness" (2022) aufgenommen wurde. Als Hofdichter der Punk-Ära zeichnete er für die denkwürdigsten Songs der Stranglers verantwortlich, samt des Überhits "Golden Brown", dessen vielfältige Textdeutungen eine Meisterklasse des Songwritings sind. Das Doppelalbum enthält Livesongs aus allen Epochen, darunter Stranglers-Klassiker wie "Skin Deep", "Always The Sun" & "Strange Little Girl", die 2CD kommt mit 4 weiteren Bonustracks, darunter "Nice'n'Sleazy" & "(Get A) Grip (On Yourself)".

Top-Livealbum des ehemaligen The Stranglers-Frontmanns Hugh Cornwell, das auf den UK-Touren nach seinem 10. Soloalbum "Moments Of Madness" (2022) aufgenommen wurde. Als Hofdichter der Punk-Ära zeichnete er für die denkwürdigsten Songs der Stranglers verantwortlich, samt des Überhits "Golden Brown", dessen vielfältige Textdeutungen eine Meisterklasse des Songwritings sind. Das Doppelalbum enthält Livesongs aus allen Epochen, darunter Stranglers-Klassiker wie "Skin Deep", "Always The Sun" & "Strange Little Girl", die 2CD kommt mit 4 weiteren Bonustracks, darunter "Nice'n'Sleazy" & "(Get A) Grip (On Yourself)".

Earlier this year we were excited to announce the return of one of our most beloved bands of recent years: New Street Adventure. To mark the 10th Anniversary of their debut album ‘No Hard Feelings’, on 4 October we are releasing a special, limited edition olive green colour vinyl reissue. The release will coincide with an extensive UK tour.

‘About eighteen months ago, someone asked if I had a spare vinyl copy of ‘No Hard Feelings’. I checked the shelves, and found my own copy and no more. I checked Discogs and saw that it was changing hands for far more than an 8-year-old album should be. Released in the pre-vinyl-revival years, its limited original pressing means that demand is now out-stripping supply – a measure of just how good this record is. With that in mind Nick Corbin and I hatched a plot for a 10th Anniversary reissue, and here it is!

I loved New Street Adventure. They were smart, looked great on stage, and in Nick was one of the best front-men and songwriters I have ever worked with. With their own ecosystem of self promoted gigs, they created their own audience, and for a while it looked like a major label deal was in the offing. Eddie Piller had wanted to sign them from the first time he met Nick, and when the big deal didn’t happen, he was still there for the band as they became an Acid Jazz act in 2013.

There were endless back-and-forths on how the album should sound (and some despair that it wasn’t quite sounding as good as it should have). Then Mitch Ayling came on board to produce the final mix. He brought out the songs, lifted the playing, delivering the shiny finished recording that took its place as one of the finest moments in the Acid Jazz catalogue. Nick’s songs now sparkled. As his love of soul shone through, his politically and socially aware lyrics showed a rare, wry observational gaze that was turned on 21st Century life. From the warnings against populist hatred of ‘On Our Front Doorstep’, to the hopeless ennui of ‘Foot In The Door’, and the day-to-day pursuits of being in your twenties in a big city. Through it all shines a passion – sometimes coming out as anger – that drives the music. It is of course encapsulated in ‘The Big A.C.’, written about the night that Nick’s dad took him to the 6Ts Allnighter at the 100 Club, which brought him into the world of Northern Soul. It’s a classic that nails the feeling of excitement as well as anything written.

The album was released late in 2014 and for those who want a vinyl copy – even the CDs cost a fair penny now – we have prepared this special 10th Anniversary Edition on transparent olive-green coloured vinyl. The inner sleeve is illustrated with never-before seen photos from the archive, both candid and by early band supporter Dean Chalkley, and has sleeve notes by Nick and myself. Nick is taking New Street back on tour this Autumn, and it you would be foolish (once more) to miss either the tour or the record.’

Tim Tucker and Bachflora team up for this brilliantly boogie-infused new collection of cosmic disco sounds and future house delights. It's a collection that shows off their considerable songwriting skills as well as production chops as the tunes blend a far-sighted sense of futurism with a hint of melodic nostalgia. Some are part starters like the playful 'Star Key' while some are more laid back and funky sounds like 'Cosmic Dreaming, Now We Jamming!' All in all, they make for an adventurous and cinematic journey that takes mind, body and soul up and away amongst the stars.

Limited Gatefold LP version on 180g transparent vinyl, with 4-page lyrics booklet (777x) Tusmorke, arguably the most atavistically trollish, acid-drenched musical act ever to come out of the kingdom of Norway makes yet another eternal return, this time to take the fellow traveller on a subterranean expedition to the kingdom of the Fair Folk! Dawn of Oberon is the band's 12th album, released 12 years after their debut "Underjordisk Tusmorke" (2012). 12-12-12 - That makes this album twice as occult as 666. The band says: "This record is a testament of a tumultuous time. We had a new drummer, Kusken, and keyboard player, Herjekongen, in 2022 and immediately started working on the epic Dawn of Oberon. This behemoth had been wallowing about since the start of the millenium, never quite finding its shape and form. We thought of this as a trial by fire to galvanize the new members. During jams at rehearsals and concerts, new themes emerged, resulting in a sort of sequel in the form of Dusk of Tawblerawn part 1-5. Kusken decided to quit after just 8 months but agreed to document the time we had spent together. All the music was recorded in our rehearsal space and studio in 2022-2023. The record is a manifestation of our Peter Pan syndrome; our aesthetics and ideals remain unchanged for the last 25 years. Never grow up, just grow old. This time we go away with the fairies all together, to the far-away land of the far-out mind.

The vibrant label "Bunte Kuh" from Basel, Switzerland, releases brand new remixes of the track "JeBoDa" which was originally released on the label a year ago by the trio Dan Bay, Chill Sander & Between Machines, as well as "More Rooms" - a new original track from the artist trio.
A total of seven artists closely associated with the label reinterpret the catchy and intoxicating original, delivering inspiring remixes for the dancefloor. These new works span various genres, rooted in Down Tempo and Organic House, as well as Melodic House, Minimal, and Indie Dance.
Iorie enriches his remix, paving a vibrantly painted path to another dimension, full of love for detail. Kon Faber significantly increases the tempo, distilling the original down to its essence and adding splendid and powerful synths.
Focusing on the organic spirit of the original, Olivan carefully dresses his remix in a stylish framework of diverse layers and emotional depth. With minimal influences and gentle dub techno elements, Mira Vána crafts an immersive remix that captivates step by step, pleasantly dissolving the mind.
Hypnotically, Niju takes us on a special and completely ecstatic journey through his cosmos, enchanting body and mind with a magically rich remix. Niki Sadeki fuses the darker parts of the original with a unique spirit, creating an extraordinary piece through heartfelt arrangement and powerful instrumentation. Bīsu writes a psychedelic-tinged and completely new story with his remix, plunging the track into deep club waters that seem to separate the mind from the body.
With "More Rooms," Dan Bay, Chill Sander & Between Machines add a captivating and charismatic new track to the release. Organic elements merge with facets of the electronic, inviting an excursion into the night full of fluorescent elements and fairy-tale breaks whose aftereffects slowly but surely transform into unforeseen climaxes.
The remixes and the original will be released splitted on two digital EPs and then all together on vinyl.

The fourth release of a series of EPs containing some of the best originally unissued Motown tracks, now available on vinyl / 7" for the first time. There´s a price increase on these specific EPs as licensing costs were more expensive than usual.

King Buzzo alias Buzz Osborne ist Sänger, Gitarrist und Gründer der einflussreichen Band The Melvins. Seine innovative Herangehensweise an Songwriting und Gitarrenspiel hat zahllose Musiker beeinflusst und unzählige Musikliebhaber zu begeisterten Fans gemacht. Buzzo, der für seine bahnbrechende Verwendung von heruntergestimmten Saiten bekannt ist, vermischte meisterhaft seine Punk- und Metal-Einflüsse und schuf so einen neuen, bahnbrechenden Sound in der Heavy Music. Im Laufe seiner langen Karriere, die 1983 in dem kleinen Örtchen Montesano im US-Bundesstaat Washington begann, hat Osborne mehr als 30 Alben unter dem Namen Melvins sowie zwei Soloalben 'Gift of Sacrifice' (2020) und 'This Machine Kills Artists' (2014) veröffentlicht. Desweiteren war er an einer Reihe von Kollaborationen beteiligt, darunter auch Fantômas und Crystal Fairy.

Für 'Gift of Sacrifice' hat sich Buzz mit Trevor Dunn zusammengetan, der vor allem für seine Arbeit mit Mr. Bungle bekannt sein dürfte, der eklektischen und unberechenbaren Band aus Nordkalifornien, die er 1985 mitbegründete. Doch ist seine Karriere auch außerhalb von Mr. Bungle nicht minder beeindruckend. So ist er zudem Mitglied von Fantômas, Trevor Dunn's Trio-Convulsant, Tomahawk und Melvins Lite.

Wiederveröffentlichung beider King Buzzo Alben zusammen in einem Paket mit 12-Seitigem Booklet + Bonus 'Sick As A Goat' Flexi Disk!

King Buzzo alias Buzz Osborne ist Sänger, Gitarrist und Gründer der einflussreichen Band The Melvins. Seine innovative Herangehensweise an Songwriting und Gitarrenspiel hat zahllose Musiker beeinflusst und unzählige Musikliebhaber zu begeisterten Fans gemacht. Buzzo, der für seine bahnbrechende Verwendung von heruntergestimmten Saiten bekannt ist, vermischte meisterhaft seine Punk- und Metal-Einflüsse und schuf so einen neuen, bahnbrechenden Sound in der Heavy Music. Im Laufe seiner langen Karriere, die 1983 in dem kleinen Örtchen Montesano im US-Bundesstaat Washington begann, hat Osborne mehr als 30 Alben unter dem Namen Melvins sowie zwei Soloalben 'Gift of Sacrifice' (2020) und 'This Machine Kills Artists' (2014) veröffentlicht. Desweiteren war er an einer Reihe von Kollaborationen beteiligt, darunter auch Fantômas und Crystal Fairy.

Für 'Gift of Sacrifice' hat sich Buzz mit Trevor Dunn zusammengetan, der vor allem für seine Arbeit mit Mr. Bungle bekannt sein dürfte, der eklektischen und unberechenbaren Band aus Nordkalifornien, die er 1985 mitbegründete. Doch ist seine Karriere auch außerhalb von Mr. Bungle nicht minder beeindruckend. So ist er zudem Mitglied von Fantômas, Trevor Dunn's Trio-Convulsant, Tomahawk und Melvins Lite.

Wiederveröffentlichung beider King Buzzo Alben zusammen in einem Paket mit 12-Seitigem Booklet + Bonus 'Sick As A Goat' Flexi Disk!

Sleap-e is reclaiming herself. The Italian singer-songwriter’s second album, 8106, captures the spirit of play; the child-like instinct to pursue what you love without compromise - and here it is, that particular magic that rarely survives adulthood, remarkably intact. Each of its eleven songs are vibrant shards which build a mosaic of Asia Martina Morabito’s world: the growing pains of your early twenties, remaining faithful to your dreams despite the hostility of adulthood, places of escape both real and imagined - and the pulse of Bologna, her home and north star. As a student of old-school iconoclasts like The Fall and inspired by the outsider streak of Jimmy Whispers and Daniel Johnston, it was not any particular musical quality of theirs which Asia wanted to channel in Sleap-e, but their confidence to “explode in a raw, free and authentic way.” Though her sound has shifted from the tender bedroom pop of her 2020 EP Mellow and her 2022 debut album Pouty Lips which was bedecked with jubilant brass and Mediterranean rhythms, it’s her self-belief which endures. 8106 is Sleap-e’s most raucous, unpolished and playful offering to date, steeped in the influence of “egg-punk”, an internet-grown genre which seeks to satirise the tropes of punk with its danceable irreverence. There is joy to be found, Asia feels, in refusing to conform, and it has brought her closer to herself than ever before. But to gain her sense of self, first, she had to lose sight of it. Summer of 2023, when the outlines of the record were made, was a difficult time for her. 8106 was the number of the hotel room she felt confined to, alone and adrift from comfort when she was working away from home. Writing this album was her getaway car. “It represents an important choice I made,” she explains. “I chose happiness. I chose myself.” The title represents a kind of mental post-it note reminding herself to stay focused on what she loves; it’s a talisman to protect her from hard times. She returned home, and there she began recording the album in residency at the Bronson Club, a hive of like-minded creatives and mentors who helped it take its final form. At home, her own music was played freely and instinctively. The artwork for 8106 is by Noemi Vola, a prolific Bolognian illustrator and author who specialises in designs for children, which reflects the “funky, fairytale mood” of the record itself.

The Morning Papers Have Given Us the Vapours was made with the black watch bandmates and producers/engineers Rob Campanella (Brian Jonestown Massacre, The Tyde, The Warlocks) and Andy Creighton (The World Record, Parson Red Heads). Ben Eshbach, formerly of The Sugarplastic, arranged the strings. Kesha Rose guests on lead vocals on the second single, Oh Do Shut Up. And the great Lindsay Murray once again lends her beautiful backing vox to a number of tracks.

the black watch songwriter/frontman John Andrew Fredrick wrote the ten songs on this, his Los Angeles-based band's latest album, entirely unselfconsciously, with no set goal in mind other than to revel in the joy of songwriting, and, eventually, the luxury of recording his music with his more-than-accomplished band. The Morning Papers Have Given Us the Vapours, produced separately and together by Rob Campanella and Andy Creighton evinces the black watch's often stunning ability to, as Andy Gill once observed in The Independent, "find chaos in the calm, melody in the miasma."

Fredrick, who has also published four comedic novels and a book on the early films of Wes Anderson, jovially describes himself as "a recovering Anglophile--one who'll never, one hopes, fully recover." From his home studio in the Angeleno Heights district of L.A., he waxes eloquent about how being branded, as it were, as a too-ardent lover of British music, film, and literature has left him as bemused as has the tag "prolific" that is often affixed to reviews of his work.

"I just don't think it's all that interesting to note that we've made so many records. Looked at one way, it's a sort of deflection from talking about the timbre if not the quality of the individual songs. Though I know it can be intimidating for fans who've just discovered us--a sort of 'My goodness, where do I start with this band that has put out LPs since 1988?' I get it. I do. I picture someone standing at our slot at a bin at a record store becoming overwhelmed at the prospect of picking the 'wrong' title. And then walking away and not picking up anything from us!" Fredrick laughs. "What can you do indeed?"

He started his career as a songwriter as a result of an American Football injury that left him bedridden in the home he grew up in in Santa Barbara, California. The year The Beatles immortal double-album came out at Christmastime he broke his leg so badly that he had to be home-schooled for an entire year. His parents, ex-teachers themselves, refused to let him watch telly for more than an hour a day. He propped a Silvertone acoustic on top of the massive cast that screamed all the way up to his thigh from his toes, and began to write little melodies and lyrics that, doubtless, did not in the least mask his love for the Fabs, The White Album in especial.

And he read and read and read--histories of the American Revolution and Civil War, mostly, and as many Dickens novels as his mum and dad could bring him. "That year," Fredrick observes, "surely made me who I am today. Proof that intensely unfortunate-seeming events can prove most fortunate. As a sport-mad kid, it made me absolutely mental that I was exiled from the activities I loved most and the school teams I played on. What a blessing undisguised that injury was! Not that I'd like to experience anything like it ever again, mind you."

Fredrick can even recall a few of the melodies he wrote as boy ("Utterly trite, of course, completely jejune"); and in a way, The Morning Papers Have Given Us the Vapours showcases a kind of get-back-to-where-you-once-belonged sensibility. "I didn't intend, this time, to make an album per se. I write both songs and fiction in order to find out what happens, to find out what I might want to say," he notes. "Rob often asks me what a particular song is about; and I often reply that I either don't know, or would prefer that others say. Same thing goes for when people ask me where they should start with our discography. I never know what to say. Our LP from 2011, Led Zeppelin Five (remastered in 2021 for its tenth anniversary), has been our best seller, I think--but that may be because some stoned Zepheads thought their gods had perhaps put out a record they'd missed!"

Despite being deadly serious about music-making, TBW's been known to either whimsically or perversely title their albums. Examples: Jiggery-Pokery (an allusion to John Lennon assessing George Martin's productions), After the Gold Room (a pun on the Neil Young classic plus a local eastside L.A. watering hole), Sugarplum Fairy, Sugarplum Fairy (echoing Lennon's famous count-off to A Day in the Life), Fromthing Somethat (a garbled spoonerism/lyric while doing a vocal), Brilliant Failures (the 2020 release that, along with Fromthing Somethat, was named Album of the Year by venerable indie rock magazine The Big Takeover), and the aforementioned LZ5.

For the new LP, the band recruited longtime friends and allies Ben Eshbach (the Emmy-Award-winning frontman of The Sugarplastic) and Lindsay Murray (Gretchens Wheel) to compose and arrange strings and sing heaps of lovely backing vocals, respectively.

And the result? A collection of songs that Fredrick, in his quite-but-not-quite self-deprecatory way, might call another set of brilliant failures. "Every song, every LP we do, is a failure of sorts--no matter how powerful or beautiful or pleasing-to-us it turns out," John concludes. "I have often said that my aim is to write songs as good as anything on The Beatles... and I will never achieve my goal. And thus I'll have to keep at it, keep trying. And chin-chin to that!"

And now your attention's been brought to a band (or you've heard of them or heard a track or two down the years) that has been pegged by The L.A. Weekly as "a national treasure" as well as "the most criminally-neglected indie pop group imaginable."

So here's to the prospect of that ostensible neglect becoming as much of a thing of the past as John Andrew Fredrick's year-long stint in bed.

Maurice Fulton's outrageous remix of "The Fall" by Rhye has been cherished as a stone-cold masterpiece for the past decade. Out of print almost immediately, its legend has only grown and for too long it's been impossible to find a copy without parting with considerable cash. We've wanted to remedy this situation for years so we're delighted to announce that we've finally given it the Be With treatment.

The word ‘genius’ is bandied about liberally but it's fair to anoint Maurice Fulton with such lofty praise. Sheffield’s king of oddball disco, Fulton is one of our favourite artists, an outerspace-minded producer with roots in Baltimore club music who has no problem injecting dank interplanetary funk into the smoothest of acts. And so it goes with his remix of "The Fall". Rich and typically off-kilter, this is spellbinding disco par excellance. Fulton arms the track with a juddering electro-funk synth-bassline before shifting to a twanging disco reverb and conga-led, crash-cymbal-elevated groove.

Essential doesn't even cover it; it's just astonishingly good.

The gorgeous original, situated here on the flip, is a sublime serenade, all twinkling strings and sweet, sumptuous vocals over smooth, jazzy piano styles. It earned comparisons to Sade, Air and the xx upon initial release and it's still easy to understand why; it's warm and buoyant yet deeply melancholy. Elegantly downlifting, you could say.

Simon Francis remastered the original audio for both tracks and Cicely Balston's precise cut for Alchemy at AIR Studios ensures this 12" well and truly slaps. The immaculate Record Industry pressing will ensure this incredibly sought-after masterpiece finds a home in many more DJ boxes this and every year.

After the release of the first volume of music selected by Klinkhamer Record shop owner Michel Veenstra in 2022, the anticipation and expectation amongst the heads for a follow up compilation has been building. Now BBE Music can announce that Klinkhamer Volume 2's
collection of music from the 70's and 80's is ready to add to the series.

An eclectic selection of tracks which crosses genres and styles, Michel has once again curated a compilation album of music that will appeal to the heads, the collectors and the lovers of the groove. A melange of folk, Jazz and funk for the headphones and the dancefloor, Klinkhamer juxtaposes instrumentals with vocal tracks in English, Swedish and French over a double vinyl release and a track order that creates as much a journey as a flow.

Michel, alongside his brother Stephen, is the owner of the Klinkhamer Record shop in Groningen and a regular trader at the globally known Utrecht Record Fair since the 1990s. It is this wealth of experience, a nose for a gem and an ear for a tune that that has fed into a compilation that has music lover stamped throughout its eight tracks, all remastered from original vinyl.

Coming as a double vinyl and digital release, Klinkhamer Volume 2 is a Godfather II level of follow-up to the previous compilation in the series and really is a must for all true music collectors, vinyl junkies and lovers of tunes curated for the mind, the heart and the feet.