Suche:more relation

Before Southside Johnny and the Asbury Jukes even had an album on the shelves, they were being played on the radio in Cleveland. That’s how far back the New Jersey band’s relationship goes with the city. As the “Jukes” part of their name would suggest, Southside Johnny and his group were spiritually a band from another time. They had a big sound (and a full horn section, courtesy of The Miami Horns) that conjured a vision of a large band, jammed together on the bandstand. Which was hardly far from the truth on a number of nights. Mixing carefully chosen blues and soul covers with their own originals (and some choice songwriting contributions from Bruce Springsteen), they had a live show that was even more potent than w hat had been laid to tape in the studio. This 1977 performance at the Cleveland Agora was the group’s second outing at the legendary venue in less than a year. Live in Cleveland ‘77, the recorded evidence of that night, presented here for the first time by Cleveland International Records, shows exactly why they would become frequent visitors and really, honorary Clevelanders. Songs like “I Don’t Want to Go Home,” Springsteen’s “The Fever,” “Havin’ a Party” and “Without Love” were already well-loved favorites with the local audience, thanks to frequent airplay on WMMS long before they even had an album. Cleveland got a special bonus round that other cities would have killed for. Ronnie Spector had joined the group in the studio as they recorded that debut and came to Cleveland to share the stage with the Jukes, sharing her soon-to-be-legendary take on Billy Joel’s “Say Goodbye to Hollywood” with the Agora crowd. As she did with so many songs, Spector made it her own. Southside Johnny and the Jukes continue to thrill audiences with their live performances worldwide to this day. Now, thanks to the release of Live in Cleveland ‘77, you can be in the audience to hear a bit of the early magic as they were on their way to the top.

Both LPs pressed 45RPM in gatefold jacket+ white paper sleeves + LP3 insert for full album download. Yellow vinyl is for Indies only. It might be too soon to declare In Prism the best Polvo record ever…but it might be okay by the time you’re done reading this. ...Only at this point in life would Polvo be so assured, so casually stormy and intensely calm, graceful and free with their power without setting aside anything that made them the rock artists they were during their first, unblemished run. There is not a thing on In Prism that they aren’t doing better than before: the sidewinder guitars and the mighty roar and the moody atmospheres and the psychedelic explosiveness; the writing, the singing, the words you can understand, the ones you can’t. Polvo spent 1990–98 giving voice to a chorus of discrete rock & roll ideas that really hadn’t been heard before. And while there was nothing wrong before, it’s now so much more right—perhaps because after ten years none of the peripheral stuff matters anymore. Now is for Polvo, and Polvo is for now. In Prism is the best Polvo record even before you get to the majestic “A Link in the Chain,” serene and tempestuous like few other things you’ll hear. The album was recorded with Brian Paulson and Polvo has never sounded better. Don’t you agree? Mike Wolf, NYC (2009). Side A 1. Right the Relation 2. D.C. Trails Side B 3. Beggar’s Bowl 4. City Birds Side C 5. Lucía 6. Dream Residue/Work Side D 7. The Pedlar 8. A Link in the Chain

Special 10th Anniversary Edition In Brown Card Artboard Sleeve With Additional Lyric Print Insert

Slowdive singer and songwriter’s third solo album, which was originally released in November 2012. It is a stunning record and one which, upon its release, underlined the claims that Neil was one of the finest and most underrated British songwriters of recent times. It’s also a very special release in the Sonic Cathedral catalogue; the shoegaze label licensed the record from Jack Johnson’s Brushfire imprint for the UK and Europe and it was the start of a relationship that also gave us the Black Hearted Brother album in 2013 and, ultimately, brought about the reformation of Slowdive in 2014. But Palindrome Hunches is a very different beast. Both stately and understated, this moody and mesmerising collection of peculiarly British folk songs was made with the Band of Hope, a Wallingford, Oxfordshire based collective consisting of Ben Smith (violin), Drew Milloy (double bass), Paul Whitty (piano) and Tom Crook (guitar). Together with producer Nick Holton, banjo player Kevin Wells and backing singer Aimee Craddock, they recorded the album to tape over a few weekends in the music room of their local junior school. “At first we were going to record in a studio, but everything seemed too clean,” said Neil at the time. “We just went through the songs and recorded them live without very much rehearsal. We wanted to be spontaneous and simple and to keep the little mistakes that sneaked in.” This goes a long way to explaining the album’s humanity and intimacy, and also why it has had a quiet life of its own over the past decade, gradually growing in stature alongside Neil’s more high-profile activities with Slowdive; copies of the 2012 original and even the 2017 repress currently fetch up to triple figures on Discogs. The stunning opener ‘Digging Shelters’ was used to devastating effect in the posthumously released James Gandolfini movie Enough Said – a fitting home for a song that rubs shoulders here with ruminations about love and loss such as ‘Tied To You’ and ‘Spin The Bottle’ and, on ‘Wittgenstein’s Arm’, an Austrian pianist who had his right arm amputated in World War I and lost three of his brothers to suicide. The wordplay of the title track is almost light-hearted in comparison; “I wanted to write a song that was the same forwards and backwards, but it didn’t quite work out,” explained Neil, adding that he also chose ‘Palindrome Hunches’ for the album’s title because “I like the idea of things being reversible”. A couple years later, by reforming his old band, he proved that. And now, ten years on, it’s the perfect time to rewind to this understated, underrated classic. Side A 1 Digging Shelters 2 Bad Drugs and Minor Chords 3 Wittgenstein’s Arm 4 Spin The Bottle 5 Tied to You Side B 1 Love Is a Beast 2 Palindrome Hunches 3 Full Moon Rising 4 Sandy 5 Hey Daydreamer 6 Loose Change. Praise for Palindrome Hunches on its original release: ““Nope, it ain’t shoegaze as it's been codified and re-codified. But why be disappointed in someone following his muse to a logical conclusion when that path was always the one he walked on?” – Pitchfork An exquisite set of dark folk music” – The Times “Draws from the same understated, reflective well as John Martyn” – MOJO “‘Tied To You’ doesn’t merely evoke Nick Drake but withstands the comparison – evidence of the songs’ quality” – Financial Times “Halstead’s songs breathe the sort of honesty and goodness that’s harder and harder to find in the iTunes age” – The Independent “Given the chance, they could be songs that continue to enchant for many years to come” – The Line Of Best Fit

‘Happiness, Guaranteed’ is about the cyclical nature of our modern dissatisfaction. It’s a brief dive into the frustrations our desires bring in our attempts to reach a level of contentment. Each song explores the pursuit of happiness within our relationships, our work, and our wealth all whilst finding ways to be content with what you have whilst balancing a desire to grow. Having come off the back of touring our first record Shadowboxer we were keen to get back in the room together and start writing new material. Traditionally we had taken the approach of writing sketches alone and sharing them with each other in the studio. We wanted to shake this process up and decided to rent a house, set up our instruments, and play freely together with no expectations, we did this over a couple of months. A lot of the music we made during those sessions felt like new territory for us and a move in the right direction. One of the first songs we landed on was MORE, which is based around a character disillusioned by their desire for consuming possessions. It’s a tongue-in-cheek exploration into how we’re sold happiness with what we can buy, something which we all really resonated with at the time -filling our apartments with furniture, buying gear, and settling back down into a post-tour life. Don’t Wait was another important piece of the puzzle. It’s a song that reckons with a break up and greeting the great unknown. It was a more joyous moment in the record, touching on the freedoms of growing up and having a better understanding of who you are and what you want in a relationship. The Trouble with Us was a similar exploration but focused more on the pain and frustration of a relationship ending. Throughout the record there’s this desire to arrive, to reach what we’ve been promised in life, a sense of completion and happiness.

Self-recorded indie experimentalist from the Pacific Northwest. For fans of Grouper, The Microphones, Unwound’s Leaves Turn Inside You. Features Madeline Johnston (Midwife), Alex Kent (Sprain), Lula Asplund, a chamber ensemble and more. In 2019, Drowse’s Kyle Bates set out to produce a self-recorded new album. Marked by moving across state lines, long-distance relationships, and deaths in the family, the following years proved to be metamorphic. Now, three years later, he’s emerged with Wane Into It, continuing a distinctly Pacific Northwestern tradition of self-recording indie experimentalists (Grouper, The Microphones, Unwound’s Leaves Turn Inside You). One of the most impactful moments came during the looming passing of a family member. With death expected, the choice was made to conduct a bizarre “living-wake” gathering—with the soon-to-be1deceased in attendance. Shortly after, Bates found himself disturbed, preoccupied with the abstraction of memory. The experience led him to reassess the tool one uses to curate our selective memories: the internet. The internet, which creeped into even more aspects of life during the pandemic, serves as our self-made digital link to the past. Its uncaring presence layered over humbling thoughts of death and his own childhood memories of the Oregon Coast as he worked on Wane Into It; life’s hyperreal texture sank into the recordings as he felt his body age and wane. Big sounds were captured in bedrooms, hallways, practice spaces, forests, and on highways throughout West Coast vibraphones chime over black metal guitars, a mellotron drones under degraded samples, violins splinter against granular field recordings. In the process of documenting these aural moments Bates completed an MFA at Mills College, coloring the album with shades of avant electronic and minimalist composition (Pauline Oliveros, Terry Riley, Maryanne Amacher, Sarah Davachi etc…). To realize this scope Drowse collaborated with Madeline Johnston (Midwife), Alex Kent (Sprain), Lula Asplund, a chamber ensemble and more. Bates’s songwriting and production have never been more lucid; sounds flicker as he sings with fragile intensity. The record, Drowse’s third for The Flenser, impressionistically distills loss, distance, mystery, prescription drugs, the preservation of memory via recording, and ambient anxiety through its titular act: to Wane Into It, to disappear awaiting the next moon phase, water returning to sea before reemerging as a wave. Track Listing: 1. Untrue In Headphones 2. Mystery Pt. 2 3. (Ashes Over The Pacific Northwest) 4. Wane Into It 5. Telepresence 6. Gabapentin 7. Blue Light Glow 8. Three Faces (Cyanoacrylate) 9. Ten Year Hangover / Deconstructed Mystery

Self-recorded indie experimentalist from the Pacific Northwest. For fans of Grouper, The Microphones, Unwound’s Leaves Turn Inside You. Features Madeline Johnston (Midwife), Alex Kent (Sprain), Lula Asplund, a chamber ensemble and more. In 2019, Drowse’s Kyle Bates set out to produce a self-recorded new album. Marked by moving across state lines, long-distance relationships, and deaths in the family, the following years proved to be metamorphic. Now, three years later, he’s emerged with Wane Into It, continuing a distinctly Pacific Northwestern tradition of self-recording indie experimentalists (Grouper, The Microphones, Unwound’s Leaves Turn Inside You). One of the most impactful moments came during the looming passing of a family member. With death expected, the choice was made to conduct a bizarre “living-wake” gathering—with the soon-to-be1deceased in attendance. Shortly after, Bates found himself disturbed, preoccupied with the abstraction of memory. The experience led him to reassess the tool one uses to curate our selective memories: the internet. The internet, which creeped into even more aspects of life during the pandemic, serves as our self-made digital link to the past. Its uncaring presence layered over humbling thoughts of death and his own childhood memories of the Oregon Coast as he worked on Wane Into It; life’s hyperreal texture sank into the recordings as he felt his body age and wane. Big sounds were captured in bedrooms, hallways, practice spaces, forests, and on highways throughout West Coast vibraphones chime over black metal guitars, a mellotron drones under degraded samples, violins splinter against granular field recordings. In the process of documenting these aural moments Bates completed an MFA at Mills College, coloring the album with shades of avant electronic and minimalist composition (Pauline Oliveros, Terry Riley, Maryanne Amacher, Sarah Davachi etc…). To realize this scope Drowse collaborated with Madeline Johnston (Midwife), Alex Kent (Sprain), Lula Asplund, a chamber ensemble and more. Bates’s songwriting and production have never been more lucid; sounds flicker as he sings with fragile intensity. The record, Drowse’s third for The Flenser, impressionistically distills loss, distance, mystery, prescription drugs, the preservation of memory via recording, and ambient anxiety through its titular act: to Wane Into It, to disappear awaiting the next moon phase, water returning to sea before reemerging as a wave. Track Listing: 1. Untrue In Headphones 2. Mystery Pt. 2 3. (Ashes Over The Pacific Northwest) 4. Wane Into It 5. Telepresence 6. Gabapentin 7. Blue Light Glow 8. Three Faces (Cyanoacrylate) 9. Ten Year Hangover / Deconstructed Mystery

Three-time Grammy nominees, the San Antonio, Texas-based quartet NOTHING MORE return with their highly awaited seventh album, 'SPIRITS'. It features thirteen focused, adventurous and intense songs, uniting introspective philosophical lyrics with unapologetically massive anthems, including the in-your-face 'TURN IT UP LIKE (Stand In The Fire)', their most recent Top 10 Billboard Active Rock radio single 'TIRED OF WINNING'. Since emerging in 2003, NOTHING MORE has made rock radio chart history with no. 1 singles for both 'This is the Time (Ballast)' and 'Go To War', while they also have seven Active Rock Radio Top 10 singles in their repertoire. 'SPIRITS' further proves their expertise in the rock genre and beyond. It documents the tumultuous time the world experienced over the past two years capturing the desperation and isolation of lockdown, the spiral of substance abuse, the pain of broken relationships and survival in self-reliance while summarizing the overall story and mission of NOTHING MORE: Reflect, Provoke, Inspire.

Three-time Grammy nominees, the San Antonio, Texas-based quartet NOTHING MORE return with their highly awaited seventh album, 'SPIRITS'. It features thirteen focused, adventurous and intense songs, uniting introspective philosophical lyrics with unapologetically massive anthems, including the in-your-face 'TURN IT UP LIKE (Stand In The Fire)', their most recent Top 10 Billboard Active Rock radio single 'TIRED OF WINNING'. Since emerging in 2003, NOTHING MORE has made rock radio chart history with no. 1 singles for both 'This is the Time (Ballast)' and 'Go To War', while they also have seven Active Rock Radio Top 10 singles in their repertoire. 'SPIRITS' further proves their expertise in the rock genre and beyond. It documents the tumultuous time the world experienced over the past two years capturing the desperation and isolation of lockdown, the spiral of substance abuse, the pain of broken relationships and survival in self-reliance while summarizing the overall story and mission of NOTHING MORE: Reflect, Provoke, Inspire.

Repress in soon, note new price. RIYL Steve Gunn, Hiss Golden Messenger, Ryley Walker, Itasca, Bill Callahan, Kurt Vile, Angel Olsen. “Timeless ... Measured, perceptive storytelling. A singer with an unmistakable and communicative voice, able to convey hope and hurt with equal clarity.” Pitchfork / “She writes literate songs with unusual precision and sings them in an understated, open-hearted way that lends good poetry the directness of conversation.” Uncut / On her fourth album as The Weather Station, Tamara Lindeman reinvents, and more deeply roots, her extraordinary, acclaimed songcraft, framing her precisely detailed, exquisitely wrought prose-poem narratives in bolder and more cinematic musical settings. The result is her most sonically direct and emotionally candid statement to date. The Weather Station is her most direct and candid record, and the first one to include tracks one might characterize as pop songs. Throughout, the record grapples with some of the darkest material Lindeman has yet approached: it is, according to her, the first album on which she touches on her personal experiences of mental illness. And yet the gesture inherent to the record is one of unflinching embrace. Despite it all, the characters “fall down laughing, effervescent, and all over nothing, all over nothing.” “Well, I guess I got the hang of it” she sings wryly, “the impossible.” By saying more than ever before, The Weather Station seeks to reveal the unnamable, the unsayable void that lies beneath language and relationships. It’s willfully messy and ardent and hungry. Tracks : A1 Free A2 Thirty A3 You and I (on the Other Side of the World) A4 Kept It All to Myself A5 Impossible B1 Power B2 Complicit B3 Black Flies B4 I Don’t Know What to Say B5 In an Hour B6 The Most Dangerous Thing About You

Anchor and Adjust is the debut album from, Australian synth-pop duo
Syzygy; Rebecca Maher and Gus Kenny both formerly of beloved
Melbourne synth-punk band Spotting
This new project explores a more unadulterated electronic aesthetic combined
with an unabashed pop sensibility.Gus was listening to a lot of 80s synth music
and minimal wave, while Bec was deep into mainstream 80s pop divas and new
wave. The resultant album sits at a crossroads of genre. The melodies of new
wave pop meet the synth tones of 80's coldwave, the vocal dynamics of postpunk and the DIY ethos and raw edges of punk. Layered synths twist and weave.
Featuring celestial, emotive vocals, the album is often bright and upbeat,
danceable, but also moody, thoughtful and clever. It is sparkling and edgy
electronic pop.
The album's lyrics explore the power dynamics in relationships, including the
relationship with yourself. It is about control and being controlled. Attempts to
unravel years of ingrained behaviour and decision making to try and see the world
another way. It yearns for clarity, asking questions and searching for definitions to
try to understand what is perception, what is manipulation and what is truth.
I was speaking to myself, through myself. Both aware of having these feelings
and disconnected from how they were making me feel. Making this record
allowed me to create order and meaning. It was both my wake up call and my pep
talk for changes I desperately needed in my life. Rebecca Maher. Pressed on
Transparent Purple Color vinyl.
GENRE : Synth-pop, Electronic, Darkwave

With I was born by the sea, Richie Culver brings to a close a period of intense introspection and emotional reckoning with a debut album that serves as both an optimistic statement of intent and a final glance back at the painful places it explores. Following recent work with Blackhaine and Pavel Milyakov, I was born by the sea picks up where Culver’s EP for Italian label Superpang, Post Traumatic Fantasy, leaves off, painting an unabashed portrait of contemporary malaise, detailing a life lived behind closed doors, pinned under the crushing weight of austerity, sapped of the strength to do anything other than gaze out to sea and all the grey possibilities it represents. Where Post Traumatic Fantasy saw Culver returning to his hometown of Hull after a period spent entangled in London’s relentless sprawl, his first full length project reaches further back to his formative years working in a caravan factory and going to raves in and among Hull’s outskirts. Unspooling like a fever dream, I was born by the sea is the anxious clutter of a racing mind spoken clearly, a stark reflection on how it feels to have too many ideas and too much time to act on them.

Though unquestionably a snapshot of a time of significant difficulty, Culver reflects on this period with tender empathy and pitch-black humour, stitching together unflinching observations from England’s neglected corners, ‘there’s more mobility scooter repair shops and bookies than there are bookshops,’ and devastating vignettes of everyday struggle, ‘tears on the tin foil’, with surreal depictions of industrial grit, ‘skimming stones in a small pond by the slaughterhouse’. His DIY approach to production stretches the rough sinew that connects these fragments of memory, a process he describes as using a paired back collection of synths and drum machines to the best of his ability, ‘but to the least of their capabilities,’ wringing out visceral sound with self-taught urgency. During the album’s most impressionistic passages it’s as though Culver has transposed past internal turmoil into powerfully resonant noise, the Sisyphean sonics of ‘Create A Lifestyle Around Your Problems’, which evokes in its concrète clatter and MRI machine barrage the sound of making the same mistake again and again, or the stuttered jumble of ‘Its Hard To Get To Know You,’ its garbled vocal modulation and frayed edges of distortion channeling the paranoia of somebody listening to muffled voices through thin plaster, climbing the walls of their bedroom with the curtains closed, a nervous breakdown in stereo.

In counterpoint to this glides the ever-present spirit of the dance floor, which haunts the record from the moment it is invoked in its first few seconds. Opening onto a sea wall of bright synthesis, the stuttering vocals and bass tone chops of ‘Nervous Energy’ dump us directly into post rave ecstasy, the echoing cry of a voice amplified by loudspeaker carrying the loose energy and surge of crowds moving in darkness. The incessant, dead phone line beep of ‘Pigeon Flesh’ builds to a pulse that suddenly swells into an anxious technoid surge, shapeshifting at lysergic speed into head shrinking audio hallucinations, a descent into the void of the present via machine music hypnosis. Even ‘Its Hard To Get To Know You’ summons the ego death drive of hardcore techno within its scorched textures, flickering indiscernibly between attritional noise and frazzled hardware stomp. Paying homage to both the parties of his youth and a countless succession of Sundays spent offering himself up within Berghain’s hallowed architecture, Culver’s experiments in addressing his formative relationship with rave provide an energetic glimpse at where he might take his sound next.

Between spikes of propulsive energy and grim mood pieces Culver returns to suspended passages of aching, glacial drift, the cold swell of the North Sea, accompanied by some of his heaviest testimonials. The gauzy ebb of ‘Daytime TV,’ its tumbling loops reminiscent of boats bobbing off a distant shore, sees the artist at his most checked out, slumped in front of his television, seven days a week. ‘I used to dream of doing something,’ he admits, ‘anything to get out of this town.’ ‘Love Like An Abscess’ pairs swirling currents of ambient shimmer with violent images of baseball bats lying next to beds and blood-stained mattresses, next to which Culver pleads in a desperate mumble, ‘let our love grow, like a broken abscess.’ Yet it’s with the album’s final word and title track that Culver reveals a glimmer of cautious optimism, a parting gesture of exposition and closure. ‘I knew I had to get away,’ he asserts, ‘so I did and I never looked back.’ What follows builds from a low throb, the flutter of a tiny heartbeat, to a resonant glow, embellished with unfurling synthetic burbles, oil rigs sparkling in the distance, golden light spilling across the sea. In reckoning with the place he had to escape, Richie Culver is now free to look towards the promise of something new, something hopeful.

The East Coast of England is a land living on borrowed time. Time we borrowed from the North Sea, reclaimed a thousand years ago. But now it seems that sea has come to claim it all back. Michael C Coldwell spent three years travelling up and down this rapidly disappearing shoreline, collecting ghost stories, photographing the roads to nowhere, the monumental sound mirrors and pillboxes teetering on the edges of cliffs, making field recordings of the waves and fog signals, and writing mournful electronic music from static caravans. This hauntological project finally culminated in a short essay film entitled Views from Sunk Island - and this new Conflux Coldwell album. More than just a film score, The Phantomatic Coast stretches beyond the original aims of the documentary, to evoke something deeper about our troubled relationship with the sea – the many towns and ships lost beneath the waves, and ancient forgotten lands lying out beyond the windfarms like some Yorkshire Atlantis. Memory and mythology became obvious themes in the work, as did the ruins and remains of the world wars, now slipping beneath shifting sands forever. The Phantomatic Coast will be released via digital platforms and limited edition pressed vinyl in a deluxe gatefold sleeve.

Jozef Van Wissem- Lute, Electronics, Beats, Electric Guitar, Found Bird Sounds. In 2013 van Wissem won the Cannes Soundtrack Award at the Cannes Film Festival for Jim Jarmusch’s “Only Lovers Left Alive “. In December 2017 Jozef van Wissem was invited to perform the madrigal depicted in Caravaggio’s painting The Lute Player (1596) at the Hermitage museum of Saint Petersburg. In 2022 three of his works were used for in the soundtrack and trailer of Irma Vep (HBO). His completely unique musical world can be easily verified by his collaborations, especially that these relationships are also strengthening his own musical character. He worked together with Zola Jesus, Tilda Swinton, Jarboe as well as with his long-time collaborative partner, also his friend, Jim Jarmusch. “La Cinémathèque Française in Paris commissioned me to write and perform the score at the presentation of the restored version of Nosferatu. I was a bit overwhelmed by its success. It was sold out. I wasn’t going to repeat it. But people kept asking. In the beginning the soundtrack was more improvised and reactive to the images but after a few times the audience kind of showed me the way. To start with a few notes and building the score slowly to a dense slow metal ending. I found an old 7-inch single with recordings of extinct birds on a market, I electronically processed and added them to the score . “ Manipulating the sounds of electric guitar in alternate tuning he manages to create the feeling of fear, equal to the experience of the victims of Count Orlok. “To me Nosferatu personifies this Death Bird of the Plague. The Black Death depicted in the film offers a timeless parallel with contemporary society. The vampire Count Orlok infests the city with rats and people are infected with the plague. They must quarantaine. This provokes hysteria. Much like nowadays”. With a melodic almost medieval magic and mystery Jozef van Wissem has reignited the light through the filters of dark energy post punk and even black metal into a wondrous new melodramatic cinematic space…- John Robb (Louder Than War) Beginning with a solo played on the lute, his performance will incorporate electric guitar and distorted recordings of extinct birds, graduating from subtlety to gothic horror. – New York Times Delightfully macabre, intense and electrifying – MXDWN

"Most of this record was created in the shadow of COVID and deep in the maw of Melbourne’s 2020 long winter lockdown. It is a meditation on the nature of connection.

Restricted to a 5km zone, one of the only people I saw outside my family during this time was my old friend and teacher, Ania Walwicz. We met in the overlap between our zones on the waterfront near Docklands to walk and talk on bright, cool winter afternoons. Those conversations became large in my thoughts when Ania suddenly passed away in September. Her voice was in my head as I worked on this music, trawling through threads of ideas, recordings made on my phone, and thoughts jotted down in notebooks.

Ania’s practice as a writer relied on ‘automatic’ processes. Her work was informed by everything she had read (a lot) but it was created in the manner of dreams. In a state where the subconscious might bubble up and the words arrange themselves into meaning bearing forms that resonate more than represent. I thought a lot about that as I made this music. I recorded everyday using the trumpet, my old Revox reel-to-reel, a couple of synths, a harmonium I lent from a friend, and whatever else was around. I worked mostly on just diving a little deeper each time I sat down to it.

Through the simple process of exhalation, I explored my relationship with the trumpet, which has been through so many twists and turns. I let the tones produced by my breath unfurl on long tape loops and degrade beyond recognition through pedal and plugin chains, until the only imprint of the initial gesture remained.

My process also involved long bike rides during which I’d listen to the work of previous days on ear buds, gliding through familiar streets made slightly strange by the absence of people and movement. Often my rides took me along Footscray Rd next to the port, and as I washed down towards Docklands past the old boat moorings I stopped pedalling to coast. The sounds from my darkened studio mingled with the low rush of air past my helmet, the click and whirr of my bike gears, a squalling bird, a whooshing car. And I remembered my last conversation with Ania. Sitting in the late afternoon sun, squinting against the light that raked across the water, she was telling me about all the different words for they have for blue in Polish and Russian, and how words don’t just change our perception of things, but also actually change the thing being perceived.

As I rode home that afternoon, I felt like anything was possible. "

Peter Knight

Ever since he remixed Abimaro & The Free’s ‘Mark’ back in 2014, NuNorthern Soul boss Phil Cooper has kept in touch with Daniel Stenger, the producer and self-taught multi-instrumentalist behind the Flashbaxx project. Cooper was always convinced that Sanger would be capable of crafting a very special release for the label but was willing to give him time to come up with something special.

With Take Care My Friend, a mini-album inspired by the German producer’s deeply rooted love of jazz-funk, Stenger has repaid the faith shown in him. He’s deliv-ered a collection of quality cuts marked out by audible warmth, effortless musicality and memorable, sun-soaked songs.

As he makes clear in the liner notes included with the vinyl version of the mini album, the project began with the recording of luscious, Rhodes-laden opener ‘Al-right’. After staying up all night recording the track, Stenger not only decided to continue recording with the same relatively limited set of instruments (think bass and electric guitars, drums, piano, electric piano, organ, hand percussion and a handful of synthesizers), but also stick to a hybrid sound that added a subtle Lat-in shuffle to his Balearic-minded take on jazz, funk and soul fusion.

We’re biased of course, but there’s no denying that Stenger’s creative choices have resulted in a superb set of tracks. While the restricted kit list provided focus during the music-making process, there’s still plenty of musical variety across the six tracks that make up the set.

For proof, compare and contrast the jazzy, loose-limbed headiness of ‘It Just Happens’, where simmer-ing synth-strings, twinkling melodic motifs and glis-tening guitar licks rise above smooth jazz-funk bass and a gentle broken beat rhythm, and the slow-motion soul brilliance of ‘Strangers’, where Kathryn Kempf’s evocative and poignant lead vocals rise above a sump-tuous downtempo groove and heart-aching piano lines.

This subtly varied but musically coherent vibe contin-ues across the mini album. Stenger indulges in a bit of New York daydreaming on ‘Brooklyn Love Boat’, a wonderfully musically detailed chunk of 1970s style jazz-funk heat that offers knowing nods to Roy Ayers, Herbie Hancock and the jazz-fusion stylings of Azymuth, before opting for a deeper, slower and even more seductive sound on the Hammond-sporting bliss of ‘Take Care My Friend’.

Closing cut ‘City Lights’, a gorgeous, soft-focus affair smothered in echoing Rhodes riffs and immersive chords, has the feel of an underground classic in wait-ing: a stirring, string-drenched future sing-along whose emotion-packed lyrics are delivered brilliantly by Glasgow-born singer/songwriter Chris Pookah.

Despite the song’s subject matter – the painful final breakdown of a relationship – there’s something strangely uplifting about the combination of Pookah’s pitch-perfect vocal delivery and the absorbing warmth of Stenger’s comforting and sonically detailed music. It provides a fittingly impressive finish to a mightily immersive mini album.

Mondays at The Enfield Tennis Academy, x2 LPs of long-form, lyrical, groove-based free improv by acclaimed guitarist & composer Jeff Parker's ETA IVtet. Recorded live at ETA (referencing David Foster Wallace), a bar in LA’s Highland Park neighborhood with just enough space in the back for Parker, drummer Jay Bellerose, bassist Anna Butterss, & alto saxophonist Josh Johnson to convene in extraordinarily depth-full & exploratory music making. Gleaned for the stoniest side-length cuts from 10+ hours of vivid two-track recordings made between 2019 & 2021 by Bryce Gonzales, Mondays at The Enfield Tennis Academy is a darkly glowing séance of an album, brimming over with the hypnotic, the melodic, & patience & grace in its own beautiful strangeness. Room-tone, electric fields, environment, ceiling echo, live recording, Mondays, Los Angeles. Jeff Parker's first double album & first live album, Mondays at The Enfield Tennis Academy belongs in the lineage of such canonical live double albums recorded on the West Coast as Lee Morgan’s Live at the Lighthouse, Miles Davis' In Person Friday & Saturday Night at the Blackhawk, San Francisco & Black Beauty, & John Coltrane's Live in Seattle.

While the IVtet sometimes plays standards &, including on this recording, original compositions, it is as previously stated largely a free improv group —just not in the genre meaning of the term. The music is more free composition than free improvisation, more blending than discordant. It’s tensile, yet spacious & relaxed. Clearly all four musicians have spent significant time in the planetary system known as jazz, but relationships to other musics, across many scenes & eras —dub & Dilla, primary source psychedelia, ambient & drone— suffuse the proceedings. Listening to playbacks Parker remarked, humorously & not, “we sound like the Byrds” (to certain ears, the Clarence White-era Byrds, who really stretched it).

A fundamental of all great ensembles, whether basketball teams or bands, is the ability of each member to move fluidly & fluently in & out of lead & supportive roles. Building on the communicative pathways they’ve established in Parker’s -The New Breed- project, Parker & Johnson maintain a constant dialogue of lead & support. Their sampled & looped phrases move continuously thru the music, layered & alive, adding depth & texture & pattern, evoking birds in formation, sea creatures drifting below the photic zone. Or, the two musicians simulate those processes by entwining their terse, clear-lined playing in real-time. The stop/start flow of Bellerose, too, simulates the sampler, recalling drum parts in Parker’s beat-driven projects. Mostly Bellerose's animated phraseologies deliver the inimitable instantaneous feel of live creative drumming. The range of tonal colors he conjures from his extremely vintage battery of drums & shakers —as distinctive a sonic signature as we have in contemporary acoustic drumming— bring almost folkloric qualities to the aesthetic currency of the IVtet's language. A wonderful revelation in this band is the playing of Anna Butterss. The strength, judiciousness & humility with which she navigates the bass position both ground & lift upward the egalitarian group sound. As the IVtet's grooves flow & clip, loop & repeat, the ensemble elements reconfigure, a terrarium of musical cultivation growing under controlled variables, a tight experiment of harmony & intuition, deep focus & freedom.

For all its varied sonic personality, Mondays at The Enfield Tennis Academy scans immediately & unmistakably as music coming from Jeff Parker‘s unique sound world. Generous in spirit, trenchant & disciplined in execution, Parker’s music has an earned respect for itself & for its place in history that transmutes through the musical event into the listener. Many moods & shapes of heart & mind will find utility & hope in a music that combines the autonomy & the community we collectively long to see take hold in our world, in substance & in staying power.

On the personal tip, this was always my favorite gig to hit, a lifeline of the eremite records Santa Barbara years. Mondays southbound on the 101, driving away from tasks & screens & illness, an hour later ordering a double tequila neat at the bar with the band three feet away, knowing i was in good hands, knowing it would be back around on another Monday. To encounter life at scales beyond the human body is the collective dance of music & the beholding of its beauty, together. – Michael Ehlers & Zac Brenner

The Microphones, Bon Iver, Lomelda, Vegyn, Hovvdy, Dijon. “Lemon Cream” vinyl is for Indies Only. Follow up to 2019’s critically acclaimed ‘bunny’. Sam Hall’s new album as ghost orchard, ‘rainbow music’, is a collage of patience and meditation. It’s filled with nuances as quietly imperceptible as the seasons, or the profound movement of time, where one day looking back you realize your whole spirit has shifted. Where 2019’s critically revered ‘bunny’ was a love letter to a romantic relationship, ‘rainbow music’ documents the culmination of Hall’s first personal experience with loss in several forms. At the end of 2020, his longterm childhood pet passed away, and with it the last continuing threads of familiarity between being a kid and adulthood. Still based in the Grand Rapids, Michigan town he’d grown up in, the static ease of familiar living seemed to be coming apart at the seams, as friends moved on to bigger cities, relationships shapeshifted and in a short period of time, another kitten he’d adopted passed away prematurely, leaving Hall to question the trajectory in which he himself was headed. Like “songs in the key of life,” the title ‘rainbow music’ refers to the myriad of colors and qualities within Hall that are refracted throughout. It’s a symbolization of hope and the aftermath, the flickering light at the end of the tunnel (or “when a rainbow shows up after a big storm”). “Wish I could have fun anymore,” Hall ruminates on “dancing”, as well as confessing he “wish he made more upbeat bangers.” But reality packs more of a punch, and this collection of songs sees him finally be at peace with the current state of affairs. Relatable to anyone who has contemplated what it means to settle down, or even just catch your breath in an era where anguish is commonplace, the release of ‘rainbow music’ is a happy ending in its own right, a marker of survival that remains close to the bone. // Ghost Orchard’s “bunny” is a blushing, beatific beat. - The FADER // Fluttering and transportive, a swirl of beats and plucky guitar and strings that feels like a cocoon. - Stereogum // Hip-hop inflected, stream-of-consciousness confessionals that’ll have you swooning in the lazy summer sunlight. – Paste // Track listing: 01. Rest 02. Jessamine 03. Cursive 04. Maisy 05. Cut 06. soot 07. memory storage 08. Dancing 09. bruise 10. sweet song 11. comfort (rainbow)

The Microphones, Bon Iver, Lomelda, Vegyn, Hovvdy, Dijon. “Lemon Cream” vinyl is for Indies Only. Follow up to 2019’s critically acclaimed ‘bunny’. Sam Hall’s new album as ghost orchard, ‘rainbow music’, is a collage of patience and meditation. It’s filled with nuances as quietly imperceptible as the seasons, or the profound movement of time, where one day looking back you realize your whole spirit has shifted. Where 2019’s critically revered ‘bunny’ was a love letter to a romantic relationship, ‘rainbow music’ documents the culmination of Hall’s first personal experience with loss in several forms. At the end of 2020, his longterm childhood pet passed away, and with it the last continuing threads of familiarity between being a kid and adulthood. Still based in the Grand Rapids, Michigan town he’d grown up in, the static ease of familiar living seemed to be coming apart at the seams, as friends moved on to bigger cities, relationships shapeshifted and in a short period of time, another kitten he’d adopted passed away prematurely, leaving Hall to question the trajectory in which he himself was headed. Like “songs in the key of life,” the title ‘rainbow music’ refers to the myriad of colors and qualities within Hall that are refracted throughout. It’s a symbolization of hope and the aftermath, the flickering light at the end of the tunnel (or “when a rainbow shows up after a big storm”). “Wish I could have fun anymore,” Hall ruminates on “dancing”, as well as confessing he “wish he made more upbeat bangers.” But reality packs more of a punch, and this collection of songs sees him finally be at peace with the current state of affairs. Relatable to anyone who has contemplated what it means to settle down, or even just catch your breath in an era where anguish is commonplace, the release of ‘rainbow music’ is a happy ending in its own right, a marker of survival that remains close to the bone. // Ghost Orchard’s “bunny” is a blushing, beatific beat. - The FADER // Fluttering and transportive, a swirl of beats and plucky guitar and strings that feels like a cocoon. - Stereogum // Hip-hop inflected, stream-of-consciousness confessionals that’ll have you swooning in the lazy summer sunlight. – Paste // Track listing: 01. Rest 02. Jessamine 03. Cursive 04. Maisy 05. Cut 06. soot 07. memory storage 08. Dancing 09. bruise 10. sweet song 11. comfort (rainbow)

The Microphones, Bon Iver, Lomelda, Vegyn, Hovvdy, Dijon. “Lemon Cream” vinyl is for Indies Only. Follow up to 2019’s critically acclaimed ‘bunny’. Sam Hall’s new album as ghost orchard, ‘rainbow music’, is a collage of patience and meditation. It’s filled with nuances as quietly imperceptible as the seasons, or the profound movement of time, where one day looking back you realize your whole spirit has shifted. Where 2019’s critically revered ‘bunny’ was a love letter to a romantic relationship, ‘rainbow music’ documents the culmination of Hall’s first personal experience with loss in several forms. At the end of 2020, his longterm childhood pet passed away, and with it the last continuing threads of familiarity between being a kid and adulthood. Still based in the Grand Rapids, Michigan town he’d grown up in, the static ease of familiar living seemed to be coming apart at the seams, as friends moved on to bigger cities, relationships shapeshifted and in a short period of time, another kitten he’d adopted passed away prematurely, leaving Hall to question the trajectory in which he himself was headed. Like “songs in the key of life,” the title ‘rainbow music’ refers to the myriad of colors and qualities within Hall that are refracted throughout. It’s a symbolization of hope and the aftermath, the flickering light at the end of the tunnel (or “when a rainbow shows up after a big storm”). “Wish I could have fun anymore,” Hall ruminates on “dancing”, as well as confessing he “wish he made more upbeat bangers.” But reality packs more of a punch, and this collection of songs sees him finally be at peace with the current state of affairs. Relatable to anyone who has contemplated what it means to settle down, or even just catch your breath in an era where anguish is commonplace, the release of ‘rainbow music’ is a happy ending in its own right, a marker of survival that remains close to the bone. // Ghost Orchard’s “bunny” is a blushing, beatific beat. - The FADER // Fluttering and transportive, a swirl of beats and plucky guitar and strings that feels like a cocoon. - Stereogum // Hip-hop inflected, stream-of-consciousness confessionals that’ll have you swooning in the lazy summer sunlight. – Paste // Track listing: 01. Rest 02. Jessamine 03. Cursive 04. Maisy 05. Cut 06. soot 07. memory storage 08. Dancing 09. bruise 10. sweet song 11. comfort (rainbow)

With ‘Terrain,’ Joachim Spieth presents the fourth long player on his Affin imprint.
The follow-up album to ‘Ousia’ (2021), ‘Terrain,’ reflects on the human relationship with nature. The album title is a reference to a musical language that layers Spieth’s music production practices and intimacy with nature.
‘Terrain’ was forged in deep solitude.“It’s an interplay of euphoric flashes and introspection” – says Spieth. The eight compositions take the listener into a captivating cascade of sonic textures resembling internal states fluctuations and emotional release. The tension between the organic warmth and static curves broads tones into liquified roars and empty spaces.
Unlike Spieth’s previous albums, ‘Terrain’ holds more intimate gestures and emotional sensibility. Soothing frequencies here are intended to create a state of awareness in the listener. It is a work of conceptual and emotional beauty, evoking a form of spatial imagery that is as grounding as elevating.