Cerca:mind to mind

This release is a nod to the club. 5 tracks that are made for dancing in the dark.

Hypnosis is a mind control laced phenom. S.Ringer lends his voice as your guide to gratitude, and a good time as you move to the chords that push and pull your body to the beat.

The title track Echo Chamber, is an aggressively rhythmic beat. The atonal melody is accompanied by a looping bass-line that calls for circling the floor indefinitely.

Nasty is Stefan's current interpretation of a chicago style jack track. Simple and effective chunky drums with a jackin’ cadence are agreeably accompanied by panicked staccato synth lines and an almost hollow growling distorted bass that enforce the assignment…. to Jack!

Slanted House is a cool down. Feels like a tall glass of ice water after the heated dance session you just had. With chords that are smooth and deep, laced with that rhythm and bass-line that moves you instantly.

Sweet Chariot is a jewel in the crown of this release. Simply put, a song that is so smooth and yet grooves so strongly. A skating song if you will. Reminiscent of the so so def era in Atlanta but more laid back.

These are indeed 5 interesting dance cuts to match different temperatures of a party.

On How It Ends (?), slinky melodies snake through nocturnal atmospherics, drawing you into a world built on poetic, painterly lyricism. Night Crickets, a long-distance groove affair that materialized during the drawn-out days of lockdown, has emerged once again to soundtrack our waking dreams.

David J (Bauhaus, Love & Rockets), Victor DeLorenzo (Violent Femmes) and multi-instrumentalist Darwin Meiners spearhead a loose collective of like-minded creative souls whom, through sheer tenacity and a burning desire to collaborate and create, transcend the restrictions of space and time. Audio files shared from Los Angeles to Milwaukee, from London to the San Francisco Bay, and the ghosts of Candlestick Park shimmer through the fog, coalescing in a glorious ‘gesamtkunstwerk’ that draws from the past, the present and the imagined future.

Declaring Bauhaus, Love And Rockets, and Violent Femmes iconic, foundational bands in the history of alternative music would receive little pushback from those in the know. San Francisco born artist Darwin Meiners is a fan of all three. A chance meeting with David J grew into a friendship, and Darwin not only became a bandmate, but his manager. After reaching out to Victor DeLorenzo through e-mail, Darwin met the Violent Femmes drummer after their set at Coachella. Soon, after the three collaborated on Darwin’s 2014 release Souvenir.

As the pandemic took hold, Darwin was looking for a new project to occupy the lock down time and approached Victor, who was keen to proceed and suggested that David join as well. The musical trust established between these three was immediate and Night Crickets were born. Within weeks a global process was initiated between them, the recordings eventually forming the album, A Free Society.

Following that release, inspired by how well – and quickly – they all worked together, the trio kept up their collaboration. “We are each free to discover musical connections that could only exist in an ideal creative setting” explains Victor. “We are very lucky to have three musicians who write, sing and play various instruments in one trio… our egos seem to melt into one when we face musical decisions, so our expeditions are always filled with pure discovery, humor and drive!”

How It Ends (?) was crafted with the same collaborative spirit as A Free Society. Each member contributed contributed unique elements to spur their collective creativity—whether a drum pattern, a lyrical concept, or a musical idea—and together, they expanded these initial sparks into the finished work. True to their approach, much of what you hear was captured in the first take, reflecting a genuine, unfiltered moment.

The music on the How It Ends (?) is a true evolution of the debut album. It is deeper and darker. Having said that, the dark tone is alleviated by a healthy measure of the buoyant, bouncy and melodic. “Much of the new material is very psychedelic and the contrast between this heavy, dark psychedelia and the more uplifting pop elements puts me in mind of The Beatles’ ‘Revolver’ album to some degree,” tells David J. “The recording process for the new album was exactly the same as the first in that we all recorded remotely, taking turns to share files and reacting spontaneously to the previous track, overdubbing then passing on once again until we all felt that the track was done.”

“While we didn’t start with a specific theme, the album emerged as a contemplative exploration of endings” says Darwin. “It touches on the loss of individuals, the shifting of ideas, and the fragility of systems. Beneath this sense of darkness and finality, however, there are threads of beauty and glimpses of hope. We invite you to immerse yourself in the album and experience the journey we’ve embarked upon.”

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?"

The 2015 edition of Winnipeg’s send + receive festival, focussed on rhythm, turned out to be a generative meeting of minds. There, Mark Fell encountered the music of Will Guthrie, a meeting that was eventually to result in the frenetic acoustic drumkit and digital synthesis pairing heard on Infoldings and Diffractions (2020). At the same festival, Limpe Fuchs first heard and appreciated the music of Mark Fell, planting the seed of a collaboration that came to fruition when Fell (along with his son Rian Treanor) visited Fuchs at her home in Peterskirchen, Germany in September 2022. Black Truffle is pleased to announce the release of the results of this extensive session in the audacious form of a triple LP, housing over two hours of music across its six sides. The collaboration might appear unlikely: what common ground could exist between Fuchs, classically trained pianist, legend of improvised music, instrument builder and sound sculptor active since the 1960s, whose group Anima Sound connected the dots between free jazz, krautrock and ritual, and Fell, proponent of radical computer music, known for his bracingly austere productions that twist remnants of club music into algorithmic stutters? For all their seeming disparity in technology, approach and background, the music on Dessogia/Queetch/Fauch makes it immediately evident the pair share a great deal in their essentially percussive approach and ability to, in Fuch’s phrase, ‘establish silence’. Recording at her home studio, Fuchs had the use of her entire array of instruments, found, invented, and traditional, and treats the listener to some that don’t often make their way to concerts, including extensive passages performed (with Gundis Stalleicher) on pieces of wooden parquetry. Alongside metallic, wooden and skin percussion of all kinds, sounded and struck in every conceivable way, we also hear bamboo flute, viola, and Fuchs’ distinctive free-form vocalisations. Fell also stretched himself, with his contributions ranging from characteristically fizzing pitched percussive pops to swarms of sliding tones and abstract digital noise. Showing both remarkable restraint and improvisational freedom, much of the music consists of duets between a single percussion instrument and a distinctive mode of digital sound, often lingering in one timbral-rhythmic space for minutes at a time. Improvisational forward momentum coexists with a free-floating, wandering quality. On opener ‘Dessogia I’, the shimmering almost-gilssandi tones of Fuchs’ enormous set of microtonally tuned metal tubes ripples across Fell’s rubbery pulse, which moves up the frequency spectrum as Fuchs becomes more animated and switches to horn. At some points, as on the metallic chiming tones that open ‘Fauch I’, only the unexpected dynamic behaviour of Fell’s sounds distinguish them from Fuchs’ acoustic instruments. At others, like on ‘Queetch III’, the waves of sliding tones and noise textures are bracingly synthetic, joined by piercing squeaks and scrapes from Fuchs’ metal objects. Epic in scope, immersing the listener in an entirely distinctive world of sounds, and thrillingly bold in its melding of the most ancient musical procedures with cutting edge technologies, Dessogia/Queetch/Fauch is an unexpected major statement from two of the great mavericks of contemporary music.

Arbes’ long-awaited debut album, "Counterways", exists on the cusp between the ethereal and the more attention-seeking concerns of pop. The record invites listeners into an unusual sonic world of atmospheric depth. Comparisons can be drawn to New York post-punk of a more colourful bent, running Blondie all the way through to Gang Gang Dance. The album's dream-pop dimension brings to mind Cocteau Twins, while its grittier, art-rock moments, coloured with ambience feels akin to Deerhunter. Glimmering flashes of psychedelia channels the likes of Melody's Echo Chamber.

The ten track album explores romantic dreaming and the struggle to (not) understand and to be understood. It memorialises glimmers of connection, discontentment and longing. Front woman Jess Zanoni’s soulful, oracular voice is anchored by the earthbound brambles of prickly guitar and brushstroke percussion, where all is tethered to a surface of unearthly detail and resonance. Written and recorded over a five year period (2017-2022), Arbes eke out every possible ounce of emotionality from their songs. Not to sedate, but to guide listeners somewhere unexpected, at the song or album's conclusion.

. 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

Collapsing new rhythms and industrial visions meet restless melodic vocals on Gateway, the debut album from San Francisco duo YANTRA on Swiss label Subject To Restrictions Discs. This isn’t dance music, but you will dance to it. It isn’t ritual music, but it will channel spirits.

The dreamer is still asleep. She awakens to heed the call. Curious downtempo drums, spartan and potent, animate the body. Running through the city, shadows dance on walls, and alluring voices, whispered, sung, and soaring, possess the mind. At the end of the path, gazing at the mirror’s edge, she finds the source of the voice—and realizes it’s her own.

YANTRA are artist-producer Yaniv de Ridder, also known by the alias YNV, and lyricist-vocalist-instrumentalist Janina Angel Bath. The pair have worked together for some time, beginning with YNV’s 2021 LP Golden Hour Ritual. On Western Paradox, a YNV EP released last year on Subject To Restrictions Discs, Bath contributed vocals—and so YANTRA, the project and the concept, was born. Working together, the pair craft new forms of transcendent sound, timeless and familiar all at once

Following his debut on Planet E Communications last year to release Art-O-Fact, New Jersey-born and-based house music legend Junior Sanchez now teams up with longtime friend, label boss and techno icon Carl Craig for a brand new Remix EP. “Art-O-Fact (Detroit Remix)” injects the futuristic sound of Carl’s hometown, the EP also includes a ‘Beatless’ mix and a ‘Bass’ mix, which split the new Detroit Mix directly in half, with one focused on melody and the other on rhythm.

Sanchez initially brought “Art-O-Fact” to Planet E with Detroit in mind. “I loved so many records by Carl Craig, Derrick May, Kevin Saunderson, and Juan Atkins,” he says. “I let my inspiration guide me, and I thought about that city—what it meant to me and what techno meant to my heart.” To fully connect the dots, Carl Craig has hopped on the remix, reinforcing the eclectic synth work with a heavy new groove, a gritty bass line, and subtle, shadowy synth melodies. The result is a fortified connection between two scenes and eras that sonically toes the line.

based songwriter Henrik Appel returns with third album Shadows. Ranging from freewheeling garage rock to intimate moments, and adding touches of jazz, Shadows is inspired by the likes of Bob Dylan’s Blond on Blonde and The Fall’s Hex Enduction Hour and another step of his continued evolution as a songwriter and artist.

For as long as he’s been a solo artist, Henrik Appel has been in a constant state of evolution. His first album, 2018’s Burning Bodies, was a meticulous construction project, one that came togeth-er over a five-year period and that saw him chronicle, with searing honesty, the slow death of a relationship, with its nine songs written according to a stringent set of self-imposed rules, intend-ed to keep the songwriting minimalist and bare-bones in nature.

His 2021 follow-up, Humanity, represented a remarkable progression of its own. It was born out of a break-up of a different kind, this time with his former bandmates in Stockholm outfit Lion’s Den; piecing together aspects of the vision he’d had in mind for the band’s never-realised second al-bum, he built from them his own sophomore LP, one that took the classic feel of Burning Bodies and imbued it with adventurous new influences, as he began to carve out a genuinely singular sound.

Now, three years on from Humanity, Appel has made another ambitious left turn. Neither of his first two albums were made in complete isolation; on both, he enlisted the production services of Stockholm underground legend Martin ‘Konie’ Ehrencrona, and also collaborated on his lyrics with his partner, Emma Lind. Now, on this thrilling reinvention of a third record, Appel has turned away from perfectionism, placing chief importance instead on making a raw, human record.

LOOSE CATTLE, the five-piece roots rock outfit declared "favorite Americana cowpunks in New Orleans" by OffBeat Magazine. work to make music that matters, aligning themselves with, and advocating for, people at the margins of our society. In the band's mind, if "Americana" is to mean anything, it should mean inclusion and a diverse music scene populated by the people the American Dream crushed. The misfits and outcasts are who they sing for, and choose to dance with. On "Someone's Monster", two-time TONY and GRAMMY Award winner Michael Cerveris turns up the volume and the urgency.

Roy Ayers' first album on the Polydor label inaugurates his music's evolution away from the more traditional jazz of his earlier Atlantic LPs toward the infectious, funk-inspired fusion. Although Ubiquity maintains one foot in Ayers' hard bop origins, it favors soulful grooves and sun-kissed textures that flirt openly with commercial tastes. AllMusic reviewer Jason Ankeny rated the album with **** out of five stars, stating that “Several cuts feature the male/female vocals that would become a hallmark of subsequent works by the same group, while mid-tempo instrumentals like ‘Pretty Brown Skin’ and ‘The Painted Desert’ feature evocatively cinematic arrangements and intriguing solos that unfurl like psychedelic freak flags. The crack supporting cast including bassist John Williams, keyboardist Harry Whitaker, and drummer Alphonso Mouzon proves equally effective on high-energy numbers like ‘Can You Dig It’ and the Nat Adderley-penned ‘Hummin' in the Sun,’ which point the way to the mind-expanding funk Ayers would perfect across the sessions to follow. An outstanding record.”

"You're Under Arrest is a 1985 album recorded by Miles Davis, presenting a mixture of pop covers (including Cyndi Lauper's ""Time After Time"" and Michael Jackson's ""Human Nature""), and original material dealing with politics, racism, pollution and war. It is the first Davis album since On the Corner in 1972 to include electric guitarist John McLaughlin. This version comes as a limited edition of 1500 individually numbered copies on red & clear marbled vinyl."

Rund zwei Jahre nahm Brenk sich Zeit, an "Midnite Ride III" zu feilen und die richtigen Soundbilder für seine musikalische Vision zu finden. Dabei legte er viel Wert auf verspielte Details und einen zeitlosen Sound, der sowohl den Late Night Vibe der ersten beiden Vorgänger fortsetzt als auch Brenks aktuellen Mindset in puncto Soundästhetik widerspiegelt. Auf "Midnite Ride III" fusionieren analoge Synthesizer aus Brenks berüchtigter Vintage-Sammlung mit perfekt platzierten Voice-Samples, die zur Trademark des Midnite Ride Sounds gehören. Als einer der Urväter der Phonk-Bewegung reichert Brenk seine Beats auch diesmal mit der richtigen Dosis aus Phonk-Elementen an und kreiert aus alten und neuen musikalischen Einflüssen ein weiteres Mal einen moody Soundcocktail, der ab der ersten Sekunde in seinen Bann zieht.
Begleitend zum Album-Release wird eine Dokumentation erscheinen, die die Entstehung und die Hintergründe von Brenk Sinatras Midnite Ride Universums beleuchten wird.

Originally released in 1982 on the band’s own label. Limited reissue on red/white splatter vinyl limited to 500 copies only.

To continue our LP series, this time we are welcoming back Δ which will mark a second full album on the label. The mysterious dirty D has prepared a 9-track LP to once again showcase his ability to be able to immerse himself in the mystic of the electronic groove. To have this artist come up for the label once again with the biggest work to date is an incredible honor and the testament to the synergy of older sound and newer that aims be a powerful tale on the modern dancefloor. “Garbage World” is what the story is about, provoking a thought of the population that made it this way with their over consumption, greed and neglection of the beautiful things that deserve love and care in life. Our globe that induced a great level of pain due to its inhabitants and still manages to hold it together despite bleeding profoundly. This has been illustrated by the art of our visual guru Geka in the style of the art of tattoo. The LP is not guaranteed to fix it, but for sure should make it a little bit better in right hands and minds.

2024 Repress

Alleviated Records is proud to present the new Mr. Fingers EP. After many years of the moniker being dormant and a long journey trying to get back into a creative mindset, we have a new offering. First up, "Outer Acid" delivers up a Minimal-Space-Acid flavor. Next, "Qwazars" continues the Space motif with a Minimal-Tech touch. "Nodyahed" moves toward a Dark Club Bounce with a dash of Tribal flavor. "Aether" offers up a more late-night Ambient-Space-House flavor. Hope you enjoy these selections at the club and at home for a long time to come. Musically Yours...

Blue / Black splatter vinyl 2024 Repress

* Unless you have been living under a rock, XXXTENTACION is a name that needs no introduction. A true artist who was tragically slain earlier this year - XXXTENTACION left an indelible mark on culture and music in his all too brief 20 years on this planet. His catalog will go on to live forever, and he left one final piece of music for the world with SKINS. The album comes in at a short, but sweet 10 tracks with songs that delve into XXXTENTACION's deep and complex mind, and soul. With the lead single, BAD! Garnering 52M + streams in under a week, and merch drop that sold out in minutes, it is evident that XXXTENTACION's fanbase is ready for SKINS.

Robert Sotelo is a bedroom pop songsmith who lives in Glasgow. Sotelo has released six albums since 2017, three of which came out on Upset The Rhythm. He also performs in Order of the Toad, Dancer and Nightshift. Mary Currie is best known as half of touchstone DIY experimentalists Flaming Tunes, alongside Gareth Williams (of This Heat). Currie also performed in Officer! with Mick Hobbs amongst others.
Introduced via a mutual friend, Sotelo approached Currie last year about collaborating on four songs he was constructing with producer/electronic guru Joe Howe. This resulted in the ‘Dream Songs’ 7” EP (out October 4th on Upset The Rhythm).
Not only does the title capture the hazy, reflective nature of the music it also expounds on the origin of tracks. Sotelo experienced several lucid dreams in the first half of 2023 that left him in a state of confusion. He recalled visiting parts of London vividly, including a disused theatre of great familiarity, yet it slowly transpired that these places and circumstances were not real, much to Sotelo's disbelief.
These reveries informed the lyrical narrative of the four songs from the forthcoming EP. Currie took a similar approach with her lyrics, focusing on memory and time for her passages on the record. Currie recorded her parts in London (assisted by her good friend Alison Craig) and then sent them to Howe, alongside additional location recordings to consolidate into the mixes. These four tracks flutter with a minimalist bass, drum machine and keys dynamic, allowing Sotelo and Currie’s vocals to speak deeply into the back of your mind. ‘Expectations’ is a pensive triumph of whirled moments and momentum with Currie’s final words lending much gravity “the outcome of my days is always the same, a void that must be filled, a battle against time that drags us along; mutating, spinning, ebbing, flowing. Begin again, we work to give value to time.” ‘Telegraph Hill’ boasts a glossy fluidity, as it plays with images of motorways, ancient citadels, crows, paralysis and emanations. ‘Lady Fortune’ meanwhile is a tranquil treatise on fate, imbued with finessed electronic embellishments and clarinet flourishes. You can't quite trust where these songs will take you, they feel particularly mercurial. Dreams indeed.
‘Dream Songs’ by Robert Sotelo & Mary Currie will be released on October 4th, followed by some live performances from the band. These will include the aforementioned EP tracks, as well as recreated cuts from the Flaming Tunes era, leaning into happenstance rather aptly.

* BCee returns to Spearhead Records with ‘These Are The Days’.
* These Are The Days see’s BCee collaborate with 13 different vocalists showcasing some of the finest and freshest the scene has to offer.
* Over the past 23 years, BCee has achieved over 100M streams, headlined the biggest clubs in the world such as Fabric, and through his label Spearhead Records has nurtured and presented a myriad of new talents to the world who’ve gone on to become some of the biggest names in this game: Hybrid Minds and Netsky to name a few. His music has garnered support from industry heavyweights like DJ Marky, Sub Focus, London Elektricity, Camo & Krooked, and Fred V.

Red Laser gets on a kinky tip, where poppers are currency and salacious activities mandatory as label chief Il Bosco grabs us by the nethers and heads for 'The Darkroom EP'.

Inspired by amyl-soaked tales of Euro basement sex club debauchery, and steadily edging its way to a never-ending climax, the EP is a highly charged exercise in x-rated synth-jizz and erotic Manctalo that'll have you quickly believing you're surrounded by massive pulsating dicks on a cocktail of GHB and Mkat.
Maintaining a persistent throb throughout, the EP has us reaching blindly through clouds of pink saturated club smoke, unsure of what our sweat-soaked hands will grasp on to.

Two remixes alongside three originals. Fabrizio Mammarella has the blood rushing to our head quicker than a whiff of Rush Black Label* on his mix of 'Notio Botherdini'. Adding extra acid for a trippier sexperience and urging willing participants to "close your eyes" as he achieves maximum thrust.

Meanwhile local Stretford poppers enthusiast** Bob Swans also has a fumble in the shadows, remixing 'Dark Room' with late late late on in the session in mind - a time of carnal lucidity and primal urges that'd make even Michael Barrymore's peculiar desires look vanilla. It's a sparse and special redux, fluffing us with that latexy bassline and never-ended sfx trails until we're quite literally cumming in your ears.
Apologies, that probably was a bit graphic.

*Poppers brand highly endorsed by Red Laser contributor Count Van Delicious

**Red Laser only hypothesizes to said producer’s poppers usage.