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For a band that resists repeating itself, picking up lessons from a decade prior is the strange route Cloud Nothings took to create their most fully-realized album. Their new record, The Shadow I Remember, marks eleven years of touring, a return to early songwriting practices, and revisiting the studio where they first recorded together.

In a way not previously captured, this album expertly combines the group’s pummeling, aggressive approach with singer-songwriter Dylan Baldi’s extraordinary talent for perfect pop. To document this newly realized maturity, the group returned to producer Steve Albini and his Electrical Audio studios in Chicago, where the band famously destroyed its initial reputation as a bedroom solo project with the release of 2012 album Attack on Memory.

Another throwback was Baldi’s return to constant songwriting à la the early solo days, which led to the nearly 30 demos that became the 11 songs on The Shadow I Remember. Instead of sticking to a tried-but-true formula, his songwriting stretched out while digging deeper into his melodic talents. “I felt like I was locked in a character,” Baldi says of becoming a reliable supplier of heavy, hook-filled rock songs. “I felt like I was playing a role and not myself. I really didn’t like that role.” More frequent writing led to the freedom in form heard on The Shadow I Remember. What he can’t do alone is get loud and play noisily, which is exactly what happened when the entire band— bassist TJ Duke, guitarist Chris Brown, and drummer Jayson Gerycz—convened.

The band had more fun in the studio than they’ve had in years, playing in their signature, pulverizing way, while also trying new things. The absurdly catchy “Nothing Without You” includes a first for the band: Macie Stewart of Ohmme contributes guest vocals. Elsewhere, celebrated electronic composer Brett Naucke adds subtle synthesizer parts.

The songs are kept trim, mostly around the three-minute mark, while being gleefully overstuffed. Almost every musical part turns into at least two parts, with guitar and drums opening up and the bass switching gears. “That’s the goal—I want the three-minute song to be an epic,” Baldi says. “That’s the short version of the long-ass jam.”

Lyrically, Baldi delivers an aching exploration of tortured existence, punishing self-doubt, and the familiar pangs of oppressive mystery. “Am I something?” Baldi screams on the song of the same name. “Does anybody living out there really need me?” It’s a heartbreaking admission of existential confusion, delivered hoarsely, with an instantly relatable melody.

“Is this the end/ of the life I've known?” he asks on lead single and album opener “Oslo.” “Am I older now/ or am I just another age?” Despite the questioning lyrics, the band plays with more assurance and joy than ever before. The Shadow I Remember announces Cloud Nothings’ second decade and it sounds like a new beginning.

LIMITED TRANSPARENT BLUE WITH BLACK SWIRLS DOUBLE VINYL HOUSED IN A NEWLY REDESIGNED FULL COLOUR GATEFOLD SLEEVE/JACKET.

Nine years after it’s initial release, 'The Ripper At The Heaven's Gates Of Dark' is back. The original black vinyl and CD editions sold out pretty quick, and have been a constant source of repress requests ever since. So, at Makoto’s personal request here it is. And I agree with him that it’s definitely the best AMT studio album from that short lived four piece line up.

With the exception of the album's opener 'Chinese Flying Saucer' and it's unashamedly obvious musical references to Led Zeppelin II (hello 1969!) the rest of the album locks into a much more laid-back groove than on recent AMT releases. This dynamic shift is best displayed on the 22 minute jam, 'Shine On You Crazy Dynamite' and also the album's closer 'Electric Death Mantra'. The band opt for less frantic explosions of electric guitar overload and fuzz, replacing those elements with a more epic, blissed-out and at times brooding Japanese psychedelia, with more emphasis on acoustic guitars, sitar, organ, synthesiser and at times, really trippy vocals (most prevalent on 'Back Door Man Of Ghost Rails Inn'), recalling the twisted psychedelics of early Pink Floyd. Yet still, their sound remains so expansive that it is easy to become totally immersed in this album.

Epic in proportions, cloaked in a cosmic haze and shimmering in a synth utopia. 'The Ripper At Heaven's Gates Of Dark' maintains AMT's status as masters of out-of-this-world music and reveals their darker side of the moon.

Acid Mothers Temple & The Melting Paraiso U.F.O. at the time of this recording were :Tsuyama Atsushi : monster bass, voice, soprano sax, cimpo flute, soprano recorder, acoustic guitar, cosmic joker Higashi Hiroshi : synthesizer, dancin'king Shimura Koji : drums, latino cool Kawabata Makoto : electric guitar, electric bouzouki, sitar, organ, percussion, electronics, speed guru

Recorded at Acid Mothers Temple, Japan Produced & engineered by Kawabata Makoto
Digital mastered by Yoshida Tatsuya.

With his new album, Year Of The Living Dead, Vienna-born and LA-based producer John Tejada finds a blissful extended moment of balance between the new and the familiar. Anyone who’s followed his career to date, which has included four previous albums for Kompakt, outings for storied labels like Plug Research, Playhouse and Cocoon, and numerous remixes and collaborations – most recently, his Wajatta duo with actor and musician Reggie Watts – will immediately sense the warmth and eloquence that Tejada brings to his gilded, pliant techno and electro hybrids. But there’s more here, too; an explorer’s glimmer in the producer’s eye, as he gets to grips with new ways of working and being, while offering a reflective opening for the listener, something echoed in artwork by graphic designer and ‘contemplative artist’ David Grey.

“The album was started using tools I was unfamiliar with, which became an interesting exploratory process,” Tejada says. “Staying away from the obvious and having to re-learn simple things was a fun challenge.” You can hear these new creative pulsions pushing the eight tracks on Year Of The Living Dead ever-forward; the album has an unique cast, and though there are trace elements of the genres Tejada has indulged previously, he’s never quite put them together this way before. There’s the dubwise glitter sprinkled across the moody opener “The Haunting Of Earth”, the kind caresses found amongst the deftly woven textures of “Sheltered”, and the churchy melancholy, all hymnal and golden, of “Echoes Of Life”.

Year Of The Living Dead also speaks obliquely to its moment, though Tejada works this implicitly, allowing the strange circumstances of 2020 to cast their inevitable shadow without being obvious or didactic. “The production process began right before lockdown and continued through what felt like a very serious time for all of us,” he recalls. “Not being able to see or touch our loved ones made me feel we are all like ghosts. We can observe from a distance but cannot really be there. We are isolated and alone.” And yet, Year Of The Living Dead’s tenderness offers an out for that anxiety and loneliness, its intimate immensities gifting the album a redemptive and compassionate core. Compact and glistening, Year Of The Living Dead sculpts unassuming beauty.

Mit seinem neuen Album “Year Of The Living Dead“ findet der in Wien geborene und in Los Angeles lebende Produzent John Tejada die richtige Balance zwischen Neuem und Vertrautem. Wer seine bisherige Karriere verfolgt hat, seine vier Alben für Kompakt, Beiträge für Labels wie Plug Research, Playhouse und Cocoon, zahlreiche Remixe und Kollaborationen wie zuletzt das Projekt Wajatta zusammen mit dem Schauspieler und Musiker Reggie Watts, spürt sofort wieder die Wärme und Eloquenz, die Tejada in seine geschmeidigen Techno-Elektro-Hybride einbringt. Doch es geht auch noch einen Schritt weiter. Da ist dieses Aufblitzen des Entdeckers im Auge eines Produzenten, der sich mit neuen Arbeits- und Seinsweisen auseinandersetzt und dem Zuhörer gleichzeitig etwas sehr Offenes und Nachdenkliches anbietet, etwas, das im Artwork des Grafikdesigners und "kontemplativen Künstlers" David Grey nachklingt.

"Ich hatte angefangen, das Album mit mir noch unbekannten Tools zu produzieren, was sich zu einem interessanten Forschungsprozess für mich entwickelte", sagt Tejada. "Sich vom allzu Offensichtlichen zu trennen und einfache mal Dinge neu lernen zu müssen, war eine recht spaßige Herausforderung.“ Man kann diese neuen kreativen Impulse hören, die “Year Of The Living Dead“ auf einer Länge von 8 Tracks nach vorne treiben; das Album hat einen einzigartigen Ansatz, denn obwohl es Elemente der Genres gibt, denen Tejada zuvor gefrönt hat, hatte er sie doch noch nie zuvor so zusammengefügt wie hier. Da ist dieses dubbige Glitzern im atmosphärischen Opener "The Haunting Of Earth", die freundlichen Zärtlichkeiten, die man in den Texturen von "Sheltered" findet, und schließlich die heilige Melancholie im hymnischen "Echoes Of Life".

Auch “Year Of The Living Dead“ enthält Andeutungen auf die momentane Situation und erlaubt es, den seltsamen Umständen des Jahres 2020, ihren unvermeidlichen Schatten zu werfen, ohne dabei zu offensichtlich oder gar belehrend zu sein. "Der Produktionsprozess begann kurz vor dem (ersten) Lockdown und setzte sich in einer Zeit fort, die sich für uns alle als eine sehr ernste Zeit anfühlte", erinnert er sich. "Da wir nicht in der Lage waren, unsere Lieben zu sehen oder zu berühren, hatte ich das Gefühl, dass wir alle wie Geister sind. Wir können nur distanzierte Beobachter sein, aber wir können nicht wirklich anwesend sein. Wir sind isoliert und allein." Und doch scheint die Zärtlichkeit von "Year Of The Living Dead" einen Ausweg aus dieser Angst und Einsamkeit anzubieten, die grenzenlose Intimität des Albums enthält einen erlösenden und mitfühlenden Kern. Derart konsistent und schillernd formt "Year Of The Living Dead" eine unprätentiöse Schönheit.

For a band that resists repeating itself, picking up lessons from a decade prior is the strange route Cloud Nothings took to create their most fully-realized album. Their new record, The Shadow I Remember, marks eleven years of touring, a return to early songwriting practices, and revisiting the studio where they first recorded together.

In a way not previously captured, this album expertly combines the group’s pummeling, aggressive approach with singer-songwriter Dylan Baldi’s extraordinary talent for perfect pop. To document this newly realized maturity, the group returned to producer Steve Albini and his Electrical Audio studios in Chicago, where the band famously destroyed its initial reputation as a bedroom solo project with the release of 2012 album Attack on Memory.

Another throwback was Baldi’s return to constant songwriting à la the early solo days, which led to the nearly 30 demos that became the 11 songs on The Shadow I Remember. Instead of sticking to a tried-but-true formula, his songwriting stretched out while digging deeper into his melodic talents. “I felt like I was locked in a character,” Baldi says of becoming a reliable supplier of heavy, hook-filled rock songs. “I felt like I was playing a role and not myself. I really didn’t like that role.” More frequent writing led to the freedom in form heard on The Shadow I Remember. What he can’t do alone is get loud and play noisily, which is exactly what happened when the entire band— bassist TJ Duke, guitarist Chris Brown, and drummer Jayson Gerycz—convened.

The band had more fun in the studio than they’ve had in years, playing in their signature, pulverizing way, while also trying new things. The absurdly catchy “Nothing Without You” includes a first for the band: Macie Stewart of Ohmme contributes guest vocals. Elsewhere, celebrated electronic composer Brett Naucke adds subtle synthesizer parts.

The songs are kept trim, mostly around the three-minute mark, while being gleefully overstuffed. Almost every musical part turns into at least two parts, with guitar and drums opening up and the bass switching gears. “That’s the goal—I want the three-minute song to be an epic,” Baldi says. “That’s the short version of the long-ass jam.”

Lyrically, Baldi delivers an aching exploration of tortured existence, punishing self-doubt, and the familiar pangs of oppressive mystery. “Am I something?” Baldi screams on the song of the same name. “Does anybody living out there really need me?” It’s a heartbreaking admission of existential confusion, delivered hoarsely, with an instantly relatable melody.

“Is this the end/ of the life I've known?” he asks on lead single and album opener “Oslo.” “Am I older now/ or am I just another age?” Despite the questioning lyrics, the band plays with more assurance and joy than ever before. The Shadow I Remember announces Cloud Nothings’ second decade and it sounds like a new beginning.

Mouse on Mars, the Berlin-based duo of Jan St. Werner and Andi Toma, approach electronic music with an inexhaustible curiosity and unparalleled ingenuity. ‘AAI’ (Anarchic Artificial Intelligence) takes their fascination with technology and undogmatic exploration a quantum leap further.
Emerging from a primordial ooze of rolling bass and skittering electronics, hypnotic polyrhythms and pulsing synthesizers propel the listener across the
record’s expanse. Hidden in the duo’s hyper-detailed productions is a kind of meta-narrative.
Working with AI tech collective Birds on Mars and former Soundcloud
programmers Ranny Keddo and Derrek Kindle, the duo collaborated on the creation of bespoke software capable of modelling speech; text and voice from writer and scholar of African Studies Louis Chude-Sokei and DJ/producer Yağmur Uçkunkaya were fed into the software as a model, allowing Toma and Werner to control parameters like speed or mood, thereby creating a kind of speech
instrument they could control and play as they would a synthesizer.
The album’s narrative is quite literally mirrored in the music - the sound of an artificial intelligence growing, learning and speaking. This exploration of artificial intelligence as both a narrative framework and compositional tool, allowing the duo to summon their most explicitly science-fiction work to date. Original artwork by Casey Reas, inventor of the computer graphics language Processing.
Recently, Mouse on Mars received the 2020 Holger Czukay Prize for Pop Music.
Mouse on Mars have been regularly streaming performances throughout 2020, partnering with organizations like Goethe-Institut, Haus der Kulturen der Welt, Conditions of a Necessity and others and will continue these in 2021.
‘AAI’ is available on grey or black double LP packaged in a single sleeve with full colour insert / lyrics. CD comes with 8-panel poster booklet.
“Andi Toma and Jan St. Werner continue to create soundscapes that blur the line between programming and live musicianship, and sometimes between Earth and outer space.” - AV Club
“Enthralling and impossible to categorize.” - Pitchfork
“Sustained and ephemeral electronic sounds conjure unearthly open spaces… It’s not a song; it’s sound as a temporal phenomenon, a few minutes of sculpted attention.” - The New York Times

‘Galdre Visions’ is Leaving Records supergroup Galdre Visions’s debut release. Inspired by Celtic mysticism, outer space and New Age both classical and modern, ‘Galdre Visions’ is a document of the exploratory, healing power of music.
Galdre Visions are comprised of Olive Ardizoni (Green-House), South Asian-American sitarist Ami Dang, Diva Dompé of Yialmelic Frequencies and harpist Nailah Hunter. These four artists were drawn together during the pandemic to remotely create collaborative music reflecting global uncertainty.
‘Galdre Visions’ is a reflective, ambient journey with airy vocal harmonies and layers of field recordings, harps and slow-burning ambient chords.
The record is housed in a tip-on jacket with microtene inner sleeves and played at 45 RPM.
For fans of Laraaji, Mort Garson, Kaitlyn Aurelia Smith, Huerco S., Emily A. Sprague, Ana Roxanne, Christina Vantzou.

Mats Gustafsson - Flute, baritone sax, live electronics, Johan Berthling - Electric bass, Andreas Werliin - Drums with Goran Kajfes - Quartertone trumpet, Mats Aleklint - Trombone, sousaphone, horn arrangements. Fire! tracking new paths and reaching new levels of excellence, still honoring their 12 year old vow of presenting a fresh approach to improvised music. Their debut album, You Liked Me Five Minutes Ago, was released in 2009 to wide international acclaim. "The basic strategy of pairing the expressive energy of free jazz with a sturdy sense of groove has yielded something potent and self-contained" (New York Times). Between this and Defeat there's been five albums, including collaborations with Jim O'Rourke (Unreleased?, 2011) and Oren Ambarchi (In The Mouth A Hand, 2012). No two Fire! records sound the same, but with Defeat they have taken their biggest leap so far, with Gustafsson giving the flute a prominent place in the sound image, a surprising and most successful move, his both expressive and ornamental approach given ample room to breathe, especially on the two long tracks bookending the album. In places more subdued than on previous efforts, but with the distinctive bass figures and hypnotic mood fully intact. There are some lively stretches with guests Goran Kajfes and Mats Aleklint, bringing to mind their big band offshoot Fire! Orchestra, albeit on a smaller scale. For over 20 years we have made a habit of releasing music that is beyond easy classification, in later years typified by Hedvig Mollestad, Elephant9 and Krokofant, but cemented by Fire! and their exploratory curiosity and deep love of music in general. We, and many others, have tried to compare the trio to other groups, but listening to Defeat we realize how futile this is. Given the above there's no doubt there are many influences at play, but the resulting brew is in a class by itself.

Abstinence Blues (Original Mix) was written, recorded and released during lockdown as the opening track of the Black Metal Music EP. The band loved the driving frustration of the track and felt it would really work as dance track ready for when the clubs open up again. The band approached their label bosses and artists in their own right, Laima and Iggor of Delayed Records/Mixhell, as they loved the remix they produced last year of Meatraffle on the Moon. They had a listen and were up for the challenge. The remix came back and the band loved it, so much that the live version of Abstinence Blues is now split of the original mix and the remix.

The self-titled, full-length debut from Bones Owens is a selection of songs both gloriously gritty and undeniably euphoric. In a bold departure from the moody Americana of his acclaimed EPs Hurt No One and Make Me No King, the Missouri-bred musician’s first release with Thirty Tigers delivers a powerful sound deeply inspired by ’60s garage-rock, Hill Country blues, and the swampy roots-rock of bands like Creedence Clearwater Revival (“the first record I remember stealing from my dad when I was ten and just starting to play guitar,” according to Owens). A potent showcase for his formidable guitar work—a talent he’s displayed in performing with artists as eclectic as Yelawolf and Mikky Ekko— Bones Owens arrives as a full-tilt expression of Owens’ wildest impulses, all swinging rhythms, and swaggering riffs. Featuring heavily playlisted hits like “White Lines” and “Keep It Close,” Bones Owens came to life at The Smoakstack in Owens’ adopted hometown of Nashville. With production from studio owner Paul Moak—a five-time Grammy Award nominee who’s also worked with Joy Williams, Marc Broussard, and The Blind Boys of Alabama. “This album really came from opening for some good people over the last few years, from feeding off that energy from the crowd and wanting to write more songs that would feel exciting to play live,” says Owens, who’s recently toured with Reignwolf and Whiskey Myers. “It felt like the right approach to keep the production simple and record everything to tape - I think it creates a good type of nervousness that brings out the best in everyone. Nobody wants to be the one to mess up the take. Besides, all my favorite records were made that way. You can’t fake that sound.”

The Martha’s Vineyard Ferries - ‘Suns Out Guns Out’ Over the course of two prior releases — 2010’s ‘In The Pond’ (Sickroom) and 2013’s ‘Mass Grave’ (Kiam) — The Martha’s Vineyard Ferries quietly carved out a high-IQ corner of the U.S. rock underground reserved for taut, deathly catchy songs that showcased deft (if get-to-the-point) instrumentation. That the band have been kinda/sorta under the collective radar has more to do with their being otherwise occupied (more on that in a minute) than a lack of artistic ambition; they’ve slayed before and after a long break, they’re back to slay again. So you’re wondering, what could possibly take precedence in real life terms over playing in a band this awesome? Much as I hate to compare and contrast, part of the dilemma is that the principals of The Martha’s Vineyard Ferries — commonly referred to by their fans as “the Fuckin’ Ferries”, “The Martha’s Vineyard Ferries” by everyone else --- are in too many awesome bands already. Guitarist/vocalist Elisha Wiesner has previously set the world on fire with the Massachusetts sextet Kahoots and earlier this year released a 63 song (!) digital masterclass in songwriting under the John Pancake nom de plume. Drummer/vocalist Chris Brokaw has previously pounded on things for heavyweights including but not limited to Codeine, The New Year and Obnox, though there’s a fair chance you’ve also heard his guitar/vocal performances, both solo and with Come (as well as an impossibly long list of contributions to the likes of The Lemonheads, Dirtmusic, Thurston Moore, Consonant and more). Bassist/vocalist Bob Weston is internationally renowned for his sternum-crushing work on behalf of Shellac, Volcano Suns and sound manipulation tactics for Mission Of Burma (I’ve not heard any of the above, but I’m told they’re all “ok, if you’re into that sort of thing”) Add to this workload the tiny matter of the 3 players having spent most of the last 7 years living in 3 different time zones, it’s nothing short of a miracle the 3rd and finest Martha’s Vineyard Ferries album could pass for the sustained effort of 3 men who’ve been locked up together all this time, writing and recording a powerful statement to rival anything in their collective catalogs (I’m thinking of a scenario kind of like “The Lighthouse”, except there’s 3 men instead of two and there’s more guitars than birds, but maybe the occasional bird, as you tend to get a few of them near the water).

Limited

LOVE IS A STREAM :: 10 year anniversary edition. Remastered by Stephan Mathieu. Design by Farbod Kokabi.

Jefre Cantu on Guitar & Electronics. With Lisa McGee, John Twells, and Maxwell August Croy on vocals. Orginally released October, 2010 on TYPE records, UK.

From the original press release: As a member of San Francisco legends Tarentel and Type’s premier astral travellers The Alps, Jefre Cantu-Ledesma is hardly a new addition to the label, so it’s hard to believe that ‘Love Is A Stream’ is his first Type solo album. Previously releasing on Arbor, Spekk and his own Root Strata imprint, this latest album marks his journey into the beautifully cacophonous world of dream pop. Shoegaze music has been much maligned in recent years, probably due to its rebirth and subsequent explosion of popularity (which gave rise to hundreds of young bands aping the over twenty-year-old sound). However it was only a fragment of the genre that these bands attempted to re-create, and on ‘Love Is A Stream’ Cantu, instead of focusing on tired weeping melancholy ballads, focuses solely on expansive, almost noise-ridden hopefulness. This is the kind of noise we fell in love with when My Bloody Valentine blew our ear drums performing ‘Loveless’, or the kind of harmonic excess we heard on hundredth listen to Catherine Wheel’s ‘Ferment’, but taken into deeper, more abstract realms. ‘Love Is A Stream’ is dedicated to love itself, and the dreamy, shimmering blown-out textures might at first sound like white noise before they ultimately give way to blissful harmony and hidden melody. Underneath the grit and growl are hidden guitar parts, synthesizer drones and even vocals (provided by Lisa McGee, John Twells and Maxwell August Croy) that succeed in swelling the dense, tape-saturated songs to heady new heights and belie any influences they might have. On each listen the mind strips away another layer of dust and bones to reveal haunting and deeply moving beauty. The world might be spiralling into despair, but Jefre Cantu-Ledesma has brought us a record that isn’t afraid to share the love. All that’s left to do is drown in it.

Blessed by the Californian modern funk diva Moniquea, Amadeo 85 is back with a brand new 7". Moogy basses, heavy drum machines and FX from space are the mood of this double sider.

On A side, Moniquea transcends this rough beat with her classy style, an ode to the universal party, in the deep boogie funk spirit.
On B Side, this drunk Funk Boogie is a space travel produced under the influence of liters of Vinho Tinto, with the support of Bacchus himself.

Drumcode LTD gets a relaunch with the first original EP since 2018. Sweden’s Patrick Seich returns following ‘Rivers Will Turn’, his blistering collaboration with Sebastian Mullaert in 2016. This time a debut link up with Sandra Mosh is on the cards, a fellow underground mainstay of the Swedish techno scene, with caps at Berghain and Sonár Reykavik also to her name.

The four-track offering is a colourful trip through a range of techno moods. ‘Relicta’ is a trippy concoction driven by papery drums and ricocheting synths. ‘Terma’ is brimming with bouncy peak-time spirit. ‘Red Flag’ takes a tougher turn, pummelling with 2am intensity. ‘Square Side’ is a delicious head caver, driven by an unrelenting synth lead.

It’s hard not to notice such an unforgettable sleeve, and if the music it protects is half as memorable as the artwork, you know you just have to hear it. We don’t think you’ll be disappointed because yes, this is the majestic 1971 album Un Muñeco De Madera, courtesy of the shadowy Sola, and it sounds exactly as you’d want it to. Originally released on RCA in Mexico, it’s kaleidoscopic Acapulcan-funk.

The album’s endless grooves are propelled by softly rocking, quasi-library funk breaks. Vocally, Sola is in step with the 60s French pop-chanteuse style, but of course her lyrics are delivered in sensuous Spanish. Her voice is beautiful. Pillowy soft and tender, it can suddenly explode in mystical anger. These are ten tracks of moody, mysterious vibes that stir the spirit and sooth the soul.

The LP was written, arranged and directed by prolific Spanish composer Manuel Alejandro, the man behind an incredible number of now classic Latin love songs from the 60s, 70s and 80s. As for Sola herself, next to nothing is known about the Mexican singer except the occasional whisper heard in only the darkest corners of the annals of music history. It’s said that upon growing disillusioned with the music industry she ended up in a convent of Carmelite Sisters. Fitting perhaps, given that Un Muñeco De Madera is a spiritual wonder of a record.

Much-loved single and title-track “Un Muñeco De Madera” opens the album. It introduces us to Sola’s sparkling Latin-funk, bursting with swaggering grooves sewn by tight drums, sweeping strings and lush keys. It’s followed by the serene but melancholic bossa groove of “Oye Mamá, Oye Papá” and the strings and guitar of “He Bajado Al Infierno” that hold up vocals reaching for an eternal truth. With full-on soundtracky feels, the rolling keys underpinning the Morricone-esque soundscape of “En Ellos Creo” will give you goosebumps. The gorgeous “Soy Rebelde” (“I’m Rebellious”), sets its gentle, piano-led delivery in delicate contrast to the lyrical sentiment.

Perhaps Sola’s most well-known track, the exotic bossa of “Tabu, Tabu”, is a formidable groove. Elegant bongos, prominent bass, delicate acoustics and a persistent flute blend with Sola’s unique voice; sinuous, sassy and forceful at the same time. The stunning “La Última Palabra”, while not literally the album’s last word, is nevertheless a stirring statement of strutting Latin soul, with more musical ideas packed into this one song than the entirety of most long-players.

If you hadn’t decided already, the final two tracks that are the funk-fuelled “Bada-Bada-Ba” and the horn-heavy percussive masterclass “Únete A Mi” will leave you in no doubt that this is one very special record.

Mastered with great respect by Simon Francis, cut by the master Pete Norman and with that sleeve lovingly restored by the Be With team, this re-issue ensures that Un Muñeco De Madera now sounds, looks and feels as beautiful as it deserves to.
: Un Muñeco De Madera (LP)

"Do you feel what I feel too?" Brijean Murphy floats the question at the start of Feelings, the full-length Ghostly International debut from Brijean, her collaborative project with Doug Stuart. Guided by a lush mix of charismatic keyboard chords, grooving bass lines, and radiant bongo-driven rhythms, the "Day Dreaming" lyric doubles as an invitation and a statement of intention. Brijean want you to move, physically, mentally, dimensionally; this is dance music for the mind, body, and soul. With Feelings, they've manifested a gentle collective space for respite, for self-reflection, for self-care, for uninhibited imagination and new possibilities. The album cultivates a specific vibe, a softness Murphy has come to call "romancing the psyche." Growing up in a family immersed in jazz, Latin and soul music, Murphy would become an accomplished DJ, session and live player in Oakland's diverse music scene and one of indie's most in-demand percussionists (Poolside, Toro Y Moi, U.S. Girls). In 2018, she began recording songs with multi-instrumentalist and producer Doug Stuart, who shares a background in jazz and pop in bands such as Bells Atlas, Meernaa, and Luke Temple. Following their first sessions, which resulted in the mini-album Walkie Talkie (released in 2019 on Native Cat Recordings), the duo continued freeform hangs in Oakland, inviting friends Chaz Bear, Tony Peppers, and Hamir Atwal. "We improvised on different feels for hours," says Murphy. "Nothing quite developed at first but we had seeds. We re-opened the sessions a couple months later, after returning from tours, and spent a month developing the songs in a little 400 square foot cottage." Aforementioned album opener "Day Dreaming" is a dynamic celebration of newness: the excitement in finding deeper understandings of yourself as you get to know someone, something, or somewhere new. "Wifi Beach" drops a pin in pure psych-pop exotica. With Atwal on drums, Stuart on bass, Peppers on keys, and Bear engineering, the group improvised the track's intro sequence based on the vision of a lavish 1970s pool party. Establishing the scene is a mid-frequency drum kit disco shuffle augmented by tight congas and timbale effect, as Murphy sings in spurts: "I want to be / Deep in love / I want to be / Say you love me too / I want to be / Honey." The stanzas cut between "reflective moments of wants and being overwhelmed by feelings of the present," she explains. "A lot of the `love songs' I write are to my psyche, self-reflections on how to encourage tender perspectives and make more time for the sweet stuff." Though there is a loose, dance-oriented motif throughout, the material gives way to somnolent turns. On "Ocean," Brijean's anodyne lyrics, reminiscent of Astrud Gilberto's airy croon, float atop a brushed drum pattern, sparkling rhodes lines, and pittering and softly funky woodblock bops. The opening line sets up the rest, "In this gentle space we lay" _ among the album's propensity for movement, tracks like "Ocean" stand out by leaning back for momentary sways of blissful introspection. Murphy calls the charming "Hey Boy" a "psychedelic guide _ the exploration of finding what feels good _ through sorrow, anxiety, apathy." This mentality applies to Feelings on the whole: in these nebulous and verdant worlds of hazy melodies, feathery hooks, and percussive details, the songs simply want us to feel alive. They radiate in wonderful abandon and with a sense of devotion to the self. RIYL: Stereolab, Astrud Gilberto, Air, Little Dragon, Broadcast, Khruangbin, Poolside.

LTD. BLUE & PINK SWIRL VINYL

"Do you feel what I feel too?" Brijean Murphy floats the question at the start of Feelings, the full-length Ghostly International debut from Brijean, her collaborative project with Doug Stuart. Guided by a lush mix of charismatic keyboard chords, grooving bass lines, and radiant bongo-driven rhythms, the "Day Dreaming" lyric doubles as an invitation and a statement of intention. Brijean want you to move, physically, mentally, dimensionally; this is dance music for the mind, body, and soul. With Feelings, they've manifested a gentle collective space for respite, for self-reflection, for self-care, for uninhibited imagination and new possibilities. The album cultivates a specific vibe, a softness Murphy has come to call "romancing the psyche." Growing up in a family immersed in jazz, Latin and soul music, Murphy would become an accomplished DJ, session and live player in Oakland's diverse music scene and one of indie's most in-demand percussionists (Poolside, Toro Y Moi, U.S. Girls). In 2018, she began recording songs with multi-instrumentalist and producer Doug Stuart, who shares a background in jazz and pop in bands such as Bells Atlas, Meernaa, and Luke Temple. Following their first sessions, which resulted in the mini-album Walkie Talkie (released in 2019 on Native Cat Recordings), the duo continued freeform hangs in Oakland, inviting friends Chaz Bear, Tony Peppers, and Hamir Atwal. "We improvised on different feels for hours," says Murphy. "Nothing quite developed at first but we had seeds. We re-opened the sessions a couple months later, after returning from tours, and spent a month developing the songs in a little 400 square foot cottage." Aforementioned album opener "Day Dreaming" is a dynamic celebration of newness: the excitement in finding deeper understandings of yourself as you get to know someone, something, or somewhere new. "Wifi Beach" drops a pin in pure psych-pop exotica. With Atwal on drums, Stuart on bass, Peppers on keys, and Bear engineering, the group improvised the track's intro sequence based on the vision of a lavish 1970s pool party. Establishing the scene is a mid-frequency drum kit disco shuffle augmented by tight congas and timbale effect, as Murphy sings in spurts: "I want to be / Deep in love / I want to be / Say you love me too / I want to be / Honey." The stanzas cut between "reflective moments of wants and being overwhelmed by feelings of the present," she explains. "A lot of the `love songs' I write are to my psyche, self-reflections on how to encourage tender perspectives and make more time for the sweet stuff." Though there is a loose, dance-oriented motif throughout, the material gives way to somnolent turns. On "Ocean," Brijean's anodyne lyrics, reminiscent of Astrud Gilberto's airy croon, float atop a brushed drum pattern, sparkling rhodes lines, and pittering and softly funky woodblock bops. The opening line sets up the rest, "In this gentle space we lay" _ among the album's propensity for movement, tracks like "Ocean" stand out by leaning back for momentary sways of blissful introspection. Murphy calls the charming "Hey Boy" a "psychedelic guide _ the exploration of finding what feels good _ through sorrow, anxiety, apathy." This mentality applies to Feelings on the whole: in these nebulous and verdant worlds of hazy melodies, feathery hooks, and percussive details, the songs simply want us to feel alive. They radiate in wonderful abandon and with a sense of devotion to the self. RIYL: Stereolab, Astrud Gilberto, Air, Little Dragon, Broadcast, Khruangbin, Poolside.

When a synth master like Steve Moore joins forces with the legendary KPM, magic must materialise. And so it does with Analog Sensitivity: cinematic, enigmatic synthscapes to both haunt and heal.

New York-based multi-instrumentalist/producer/film composer Steve Moore is probably best known for his synthesizer and bass guitar work as Zombi, together with Anthony Paterra. But he is also part of Miracle and Titan as well as being a prolific solo artist releasing music as Gianni Rossi, Lovelock and under his own name. Steve’s music has found a home across labels like Future Times, Mexican Summer, LIES, Static Caravan, Relapse, Kompakt, Spectrum Spools, Death Waltz and Ghost Box, and much of his recent work has been scoring films like The Guest and Cub. Prolific indeed.

The story of Analog Sensitivity starts with those soundtracks, or more specifically the time in between them. Rather than being commissioned by KPM, this LP comes from music Steve was recording sporadically and tinkering with for over three years during the downtime between his film projects. There were no ideas about what it was nor a plan for how it would be released, or even if it was going to be released at all.

However, after Jon Tye invited him to play on the Ocean Moon project for KPM Steve realised that the hallowed library label might be the perfect home for what he had been working on. The people at KPM agreed. Finishing production in late 2019 in Albany, NY, he came up with the track sequencing and suddenly, he had an album: Analog Sensitivity.

The LP opens with the dystopian electronic minimalism of “Eldborg”, its dark synth bass unfolding to ominous synth pads, shadowy sustains and glistening arpeggios. “At The Edge Of Perception” brings an unsettling retro-future of edgy analogue leads and desolate FX. The sound of a robotic core tears through the sparse textures of the enigmatic “Rose Of Charon”. A chilling breeze blows through a persistent, hypnotic synth sequence on “Time Freeze”. Title track “Analog Sensitivity” is a sparkling transcendental synthscape of melody, drones and celestial synth. The brooding “Behind The Waterfall” winds down the first side, building subtle strings and a desolate sound beneath its haunting organ.

“Mirror Mountain” ushers in side two, its woozy bass and arpeggio unfolding to envelop the muffled, muted echos of its organic leads. "Syzygy" emerges you in bubbling sequences, airiness and ambient electric guitar tones. It’s followed by the cinematic minimalism of “Pentagram Of Venus” and its trickling FX. The wind swirls through the otherworldly “Of Dust Thou Art” kicking up clouds of unsettling, plodding synth sequences leading to the uneasy atmosphere of “Message From The Beast” which builds to the echo of the last refrain of some choral incantation. Closing track “Urge Surfing” is as cool a climax as you’d hope from something so brilliantly titled, riding along hushed waves of brooding electronics.

With the clue right there in the title, Analog Sensitivity is built up from the quieter aspects of the sound Steve has been exploring and evolving for over 20 years. It’s a layering of ambivalently dense and airy, muffled and echoing sounds from his collection of synthesizers and other electronic music hardware. And whilst some of Steve’s other work uses this vintage equipment to conjure the past, that wasn’t his intention here. Steve explains “I wanted Analog Sensitivity to feel atemporal, as though it could have been released any time over the past 30 or 40 years. While not specifically in the spirit of any particular album, I’m really into old KPM artists like Alan Hawkshaw and Brian Bennett”.

Emika & Paul Frick collaborate and make magical music from pianos, a vibraphone robot and synths that play themselves

* Their music feels like rainbow drops, raining colour, light bouncing from crystal gemstones. Reminiscent of Erik Satie, Laruie Anderson, with a melodic glitchy nod to Aphex Twin.

* This is music that channels some seriously beautiful light. It’s a great record to both wake up to and reflect under the moonlight.

* CNCPT brings the Berlin experimental Techno vibes, turning them into what they perhaps should have always been (if Emika & Paul Frick weren’t so in love with sound art minimalism). A perfect match for the flipside.

* A very satisfying A & B realisation on the vinyl. Vinyl release includes sticker with the digital download + score book + synth midi files

* An experimental Berlin trio at it’s finest.

Pressed at Duophonic Germany, minimal wait times, amazing sounding TPs, family run, buying from us supports them also.

Three years in the making only to be held up nearly another whole year due to COVID, this dark brooding monster of an EP by Brussels based Strapontin, aka multi-disciplinary artist Patrick Belmont, is finally seeing the light of day.

Clocking in at over 35-minutes the record is almost album length and spans a multitude of depths and moods with elements of techno, new wave, rock 'n' roll, house and tribal…...all glued together with a sleazy atmosphere reminiscent of the electronic body music pioneered by Strapontin’s Belgian forefathers Front 242 and their German peers DAF.

Add to this a heads-down-no-nonsense darkroom beast of a remix by techno maestro Sascha Funke and the package is complete.

Strapontin provides us with some insight:

“It started with a desire to move away a bit from my 'dancefloor' side and go into more undefined fields, I wanted to work with blurry sensations that I can't understand. I like mixed feelings. Dramatex 300 is made of that ambivalent mood. The voice is saying 'I'm feeling empty' and 'I'm feeling healthy' at the same time. I like that paradox. Eunuque is a song but is also a character I will develop in a short movie (which will act as the 'music video' of the song). The Eunuque is a character full of anger yet he doesn't want to fight nor has he a target to aim at. A restrained aggressivity is boiling inside him/it that has no opportunity to escape from the body and gain release. The song is the fever he feels from these inner battles. I think Le Bain d'Huile and Anti-sceptical have the same slow and angry feeling. I'm proud of these tracks because they are a bit mysterious to me and it feels like they controlled me more than I controlled them.”

Getting plays from Monika Seta & Alexis Le-Tan

A1. Muggy Detroit Heat (Mixed by Norm Talley, produced by Omar-S)

B1. Jus Hangin (Produced by Moodymann & Norm Talley, Mashed up by D'Julz)