Suche:more relation

8-page lyric / drawing booklet, glossy poster, download card (inc. mp3s), white inner paper bags, sticker on cover.

After 7 strange years of relative silence, and 13 years of being a band, Dog Chocolate have returned with ‘So Inspired, So Done In’. Their fourth album is their most focused, cohesive and song-y yet. They still sound like a bin full of wasps, but now the bin has double-cream or a Viennetta or something at the bottom. While many of the 16 songs on here barely make it past the 3-minute mark, each one is bursting with all the textures and colours of an office cupboard: full of old sweets, fluorescent markers, and multiple ways to fix paper together.

Thematically, a lot of ground is covered, with songs tackling subject matter as diverse as overheard conversations, healing fungal toenails, the Rogerian concept of the Actualising Tendency, bronze age living conditions, dreaming songs into being and human-plant relations. Work (and anti-work) is a recurring theme, as is artistic inspiration and burnout. Dog Chocolate revel in the mundane and incidental, to explore bigger, existential questions. Recorded and mixed by POZI’s Toby Burroughs and mastered by Sofia Lopes, ‘So Inspired, So Done In’ charts a long and confusing period in the band’s collective life, marked by major life changes, losses and shifts, colouring the band’s trademark frantic, daft and anxious energy with a contemplative glaze. Dog Chocolate continue to investigate their internal and external landscapes with playful curiosity, frustration, silliness and empathy.

Pre/history of the band: In the early 2000’s Andrew (vocals), Rob (guitar, vocals) and Matthew (guitar, vocals) played together as teenagers in South-East London-based maximalist, costumed surrealist punk band Yeborobo. They met drummer Jonathan playing with his instrument-swapping masked band Limn at art space Utrophia in Deptford. Later, when both bands had split, Dog Chocolate formed with a shared desire to make a band that was simpler than their theatrical past: small amps and light guitars, no more than 2 drums at any one time, a keyboard no longer than a ruler and a shared ethos… “it’s about giving a shit, but at the same time not giving a shit, but not ‘whatever’, not giving up never!”. The band floated the term “pencilcase punk” to describe their jumbled, colourful, dense and instant music.

Dog Chocolate built on this early scrappiness, bedding into their sound over several albums. Their first “Or” (2014) was a split with Ravioli Me Away, soon followed by “Snack Fans” (2016) and “Moody Balloon Baby” (2018). Along the way they played gigs with bands as wide ranging as Deerhoof, No Age, Dry Cleaning, Palm, Daniel Wakeford, Shopping and Pozi.

With a tendency to converse with each other both lyrically and musically cultivated over many years, the members of Dog Chocolate bounce off each other, respectfully disagree, try to make each other laugh and share some of their most vulnerable feelings with each other. ‘So Inspired, So Done In’ is their own unique offering during these unsteady times: a language of friendship translated into songs.

Despite its title, Ratboys’ new album Singin’ to an Empty Chair is not defined by what’s missing. Rather, it’s the beginning of an important dialogue with a close loved one, vocalist Julia Steiner finds herself estranged from. The music on the band’s sixth studio album – its first for New West Records – fills the space that person left behind with 11 songs showcasing Ratboys at the peak of their powers — twangy, effervescent, as confident as they’ve ever been, and perhaps more emotionally interrogative than ever before. The four-piece Chicago band followed up 2023’s highly acclaimed The Window by reconvening with co-producer Chris Walla to begin tracking at a rural Wisconsin cabin before taking the songs to Steve Albini’s famed Electrical Audio studios in Chicago and later to Rosebud Studio in Evanston, Illinois. The results veer from bubbly power-pop on “Anywhere” to irresistible post-country on “Penny in the Lake,” along with heart-piercing ballads like “Just Want You to Know the Truth” and an exhilarating detour into the extraterrestrial on “Light Night Mountains All That,” which Steiner dubs the band’s mammoth “wormhole jam.” Singin’ to an Empty Chair also marks the first Ratboys album written since Steiner began therapy, which the singer/lyricist credits for the clarity found across the album’s unflinching examinations of relationship and self. Fittingly, as the album begins by extending a hand into the void, it concludes with a scene of serenity – all while weaving candid honesty, humor, chaos, and whimsy along the way. “It's not all doom and gloom,” Steiner says. “The experience of making this record definitely gives me hope for whatever happens next.”

A high-energy dance music genre that blends elements of pop, electro, hip-hop, and Latin rhythms, freestyle creates an irresistible urge to dance. It's characterized by fast tempos, complex drum machine patterns, and prominent synthesizers and often explores themes of love, heartbreak, and relationships. On this brand- new compilation, we celebrate the best of Tommy Boy and Easy Street's contributions to freestyle culture. This collection brings together hits from TKA, Jocelyn Enriquez, Information Society, K7, Jasmine and more.

The story of how we heard about D.J. City.
Once upon a time P.P. D.J.ed in Stockholm. Picked up by legend Sling from the airport, with what I recall was a very nice old Jeep, that had a tape deck.
That Tape deck was playing a cassette that quickly caught our attention. We found out, on it was „1- 800 Techno“, a project by another local legend D.J. City. Somehow we received the tape and digital files and have been playing them ever since.
Years later we met D.J. City at a gig for Cocktail D’Amore, it was a brief and pleasant introduction as he was handing over the decks to us.
It took some more time until we really got in touch and started a work relation that quickly turned into friendship. Circa 10 years later, we have the opportunity to properly shine light on this project that started it all.
You can listen to the full release digitally and on Vinyl for the first time. „1-800 Techno“ that is Karl Lihagen & Johan Norling (aka D.J. City) with „For Several Eternals Before There Were Years“. This I guess is what you call a „full circle moment“. Enjoy!

Inspired by witnessing the broken tension and renewed possibilities of a laptop breaking down at a gig – not to mention the void left behind by the sudden end of a relationship – Pentu’s latest release is a jump-cut menagerie of musical moments. Sewn together into ‘And I Saw My Devil And I Saw My Deep Blue Sea’, these fifteen tracks continue the London-based producer’s active departure from the soundscapes and song structures that dominated their previous writing style. These disparate pieces slice themselves off into sudden silence, or veer into unpredictable sidebars, hopping from hyperactive instrumentals to beautifully deconstructed YouTube samples. Described by Pentu as “emotionally intuitive to write”, this is music by and for the endlessly scrolling modern mind – “navigating the world alongside the splintered, interruptive emotional hyper realities of social media.”

The sudden silences, drones, and interruptions are perhaps less surprising than the guitar-based textures of metal & shoegaze woven into several vital passages by Pentu. The result is a collage that encapsulates the erratic feeling, not only of a relationship’s end, but simply of navigating online mediascapes.”I found myself realising that my phone, the constant interrupter of nothingness and silence, was both a cause of depression (reliving memories, dating apps) and a relief from it (creating new friendships, distractions, also dating apps)”, says Pentu.

Pentu’s attempt to overcome content overload by actively curbing his setup of laptop-guitar--synth does little to reduce the scope of this album’s sonic palette. YouTube vlog samples (from videos with next-to-no views) are an attempt to recontextualise and dramatise material that “would have otherwise been throwaway moments lost in the internet”, adding staccato moments of reality to Pentu’s beautiful and jarring album-length paean to overstimulation.

Despite its title, Ratboys’ new album Singin’ to an Empty Chair is not defined by what’s missing. Rather, it’s the beginning of an important dialogue with a close loved one, vocalist Julia Steiner finds herself estranged from. The music on the band’s sixth studio album – its first for New West Records – fills the space that person left behind with 11 songs showcasing Ratboys at the peak of their powers — twangy, effervescent, as confident as they’ve ever been, and perhaps more emotionally interrogative than ever before. The four-piece Chicago band followed up 2023’s highly acclaimed The Window by reconvening with co-producer Chris Walla to begin tracking at a rural Wisconsin cabin before taking the songs to Steve Albini’s famed Electrical Audio studios in Chicago and later to Rosebud Studio in Evanston, Illinois. The results veer from bubbly power-pop on “Anywhere” to irresistible post-country on “Penny in the Lake,” along with heart-piercing ballads like “Just Want You to Know the Truth” and an exhilarating detour into the extraterrestrial on “Light Night Mountains All That,” which Steiner dubs the band’s mammoth “wormhole jam.” Singin’ to an Empty Chair also marks the first Ratboys album written since Steiner began therapy, which the singer/lyricist credits for the clarity found across the album’s unflinching examinations of relationship and self. Fittingly, as the album begins by extending a hand into the void, it concludes with a scene of serenity – all while weaving candid honesty, humor, chaos, and whimsy along the way. “It's not all doom and gloom,” Steiner says. “The experience of making this record definitely gives me hope for whatever happens next.”

Despite its title, Ratboys’ new album Singin’ to an Empty Chair is not defined by what’s missing. Rather, it’s the beginning of an important dialogue with a close loved one, vocalist Julia Steiner finds herself estranged from. The music on the band’s sixth studio album – its first for New West Records – fills the space that person left behind with 11 songs showcasing Ratboys at the peak of their powers — twangy, effervescent, as confident as they’ve ever been, and perhaps more emotionally interrogative than ever before. The four-piece Chicago band followed up 2023’s highly acclaimed The Window by reconvening with co-producer Chris Walla to begin tracking at a rural Wisconsin cabin before taking the songs to Steve Albini’s famed Electrical Audio studios in Chicago and later to Rosebud Studio in Evanston, Illinois. The results veer from bubbly power-pop on “Anywhere” to irresistible post-country on “Penny in the Lake,” along with heart-piercing ballads like “Just Want You to Know the Truth” and an exhilarating detour into the extraterrestrial on “Light Night Mountains All That,” which Steiner dubs the band’s mammoth “wormhole jam.” Singin’ to an Empty Chair also marks the first Ratboys album written since Steiner began therapy, which the singer/lyricist credits for the clarity found across the album’s unflinching examinations of relationship and self. Fittingly, as the album begins by extending a hand into the void, it concludes with a scene of serenity – all while weaving candid honesty, humor, chaos, and whimsy along the way. “It's not all doom and gloom,” Steiner says. “The experience of making this record definitely gives me hope for whatever happens next.”

Delve into the quirky and psych-tinged world of Brazilian pianist, composer and multi-instrumentalist Mauricio Fleury.

With more than a hint to Brazilian jazz greats like Azymuth, Deodato and CTI Records in their prime, Revoada is a groove based jazz-framed record, primed with other transitory musical vignettes which touches on Turkish psych and soul-jazz born out of the 70's film soundtrack genre.

Revoada is a 6 track album and storyboard of Mauricio's migration and travels through Brazil's geographical oddities , its rural and urban enclaves. Recorded in Brazil, it's the result of numerous treks through funky flea markets, soaking up old vinyls and vintage cultural artefacts combined with a new life led in Berlin since 2022.

Mauricio, as well as a founding member of Bixiga 70 (google Brazilian Afrobeat pioneers), a band he fronted for over 12 years, is also an in-demand collaborator and musician who as a pianist, guitarist and even percussionist has shared stages and studios with the likes of Brazilian greats including Gal Costa, Emicida, Lucas Santtana, João Donato and Liniker.

In 2007 he had a life-changing experience meeting Tony Allen, at the Red Bull Music Academy. After hanging out, chatting music and life, Tony insisted to Mauricio to participate with Tony in a jam with blacktronica and soulful house music pioneers Ron Trent, Theo Parrish and Steve Spacek. Mauricio sums it up, "From that moment on, I was never afraid to collaborate musically with anyone, no matter who's playing. It also brought me to researching the connection between Brazilian music and Afrobeat which is something that still means the world to me".

Another unforgettable session Mauricio undertook happened alongside João Donato and Marcos Valle, playing Donato's classic album Quem É Quem, live, a record seen as a blueprint for second generation bossa nova. Mauricio has worked with Gal Costa on two albums, Estratosférica Ao Vivo and her last studio album A Pele do Futuro. Fabio Sá and Vitor Cabral (bassist and drummer on Revoada) were playing with Gal at her last concerts, including in Berlin in 2022 before she passed.

In contemporary music, Mauricio was part of Toy Selectah and Mexican Institute of Sound's Compass project. He's worked with Colombia's Los Pirañas and has even recorded a mysterious and unreleased album with Quantic.

Revoada shows signature traces of Thelonious Monk, Ramsey Lewis' swinging soul sound, Deodato's drama, and styles from further afield, spreading into Turkish psych and Ethiopian jazz, when the time is right. Each track, led always by Mauricio playing multiple instruments with a choice selection of guests and core members on bass and drums, highlights Fleury's meticulous approach to finding the right timbre, utilising his arsenal of organs and effects pedals to set the mood, taking the listener to a specific place or memory that has shaped him.

A vinyl DJ for over 25 years and someone who is immersed in digger and collector's culture, Mauricio places a lot of emphasis on the importance of the complimentary relationship between two artforms (DJ and composer/producer) in the sense of having a broad repertoire of musical knowledge, references and perhaps predictably, being a Brazilian, understanding the connection between rhythms. This is an impressive debut album that struts itself right into the runout groove.

For years, Jackson C. Frank was as ghostly a legend as they come. Even the relatively few record collectors who revered his work were usually only aware of the lone album that he released in his lifetime. For all most listeners knew, Frank put out a celebrated LP and vanished, despite that record having been produced by Paul Simon.

1975 Mekeel Sessions features six tracks recorded in the mid-'70s at a studio in Lake Hill, New York about five miles from Woodstock where Frank was living at the time. Only discovered in the mid-'90s, these recordings still hum with the same mysterious warmth that defined Jackson at his peak. His guitar work, alternating between strummed and fingerpicking, is consistently adept. His stark and somber voice more weathered than the lighter tone heard on his 1965 debut.

The Mekeel tapes were intended for Frank's sophomore album (titled Marlene), but alas it never came to be. What one hears is not a singer-songwriter fading out of view; it is a singular artist who never stopped trying to build his own world, even when no one was watching. For fans of everyone who Jackson influenced: from Nick Drake, Sandy Denny, Bert Jansch and John Martyn to more contemporary acts like Elliott Smith and Iron And Wine who surely used Frank's sparse approach as a template.

In keeping with tradition, the new year brings another offering from Portuguese pianist and composer Tiago Sousa.

The fourth volume of the Organic Music Tapes series concludes this cycle that has significantly transformed Tiago Sousa’s music. Compositions in a fluid state, forming nebulae of sounds with vague contours for piano, organ, and tape loops, based on techniques pioneered by American minimalism, particularly by composers such as Steve Reich, Terry Riley, and Charlemagne Palestine.

While throughout this series the electric organ has played a more prominent role in contrast with pre-recorded loops, this is the moment when this technique is extended to the piano compositions. New opportunities arise for the repetition and variation of small motifs to induce subtle perceptions and psychoacoustic effects. This final edition represents the maturation of the Portuguese composer’s intentions surrounding the idea of organic music. In music, too, the organic world is quite different from the one built on the rules of syntax and grammar. It refers instead to a type of interdependent relationships and patient, repetitive processes that are simultaneously spontaneous and unpredictable, which shape rivers and mountains, the grain of wood, muscle fibers, or marks on a jade stone.

Enter then the fourth volume and be locked in a new theatre of eternal music by an artists that keeps pushing his own style to ebullient highs.

2026 Repress

Flickering in ultraviolet, there is an elusive place where blue pill meets red, ups become downs, and day merges with night. Those liminal spaces where anything is possible is where you’ll find Nightbus and their hypnotic debut album Passenger. Doom, uncertainty, and opportunity lurk in the shadowy corners of their murky existence with stops at disassociation, co-dependency, and addiction before reaching its final destination - a glimmer of hope.

The in-between of Nightbus’ own Gotham lies where Manchester’s city pulse meets Stockport’s outer realm. An audio-visual entity formed among a musical family of friends, freaks, and foes in messy mills and after hours on dancefloors alike, their sound bleeds from tension where collective creative forces are bound together and collide with the fallout of being torn apart. Before even playing a show, their So Young released single ‘Mirrors’ – a knowing nod of respect to some well-known gloomy Northerners - may have made old school indie heads shimmy at shows in Salford’s The White Hotel but also signalled the duo’s knack for offering listeners a Bandersnatch approach to hitchhiking their own personal Nightbus in whatever direction they choose to take. “Everyone can have their moment with our songs; the music is our response to who we are as young people, living in the city full of this energy right now,” they say.

Whilst reverb hefty melodies and dread-filled loops embody isolation from writing at each of their home studio set-ups, magic happens in the ether across 90s trip-hop, indie sleaze and electronica; Jake’s production layers Olive’s pop sentimentality with drums and samples whilst tales of a cast of faceless characters place Olive as puppet master; her severed self’s perspective manipulating their stringed limbs at arm’s length to see how their stories play out when scenes reflecting her own lie close to the bone. “It’s a bit fucked; like having this out of body experience with a made-up movie running through my head,” she says. “As I write I can see they’re all from a similar world, but they allow me to explore different feelings without giving away part of myself.”

Recorded at The Nave in Leeds with producer-engineer Alex Greaves (Heavy Lungs, Working Men’s Club), surprise and danger lies in every crevice. Brooding whispers turn to chants on 6-minute opus ‘Host.’ Improvised when performed live, its immersive shift in tempo leads to hefty dub courtesy of Jake’s pedals. Even then, you won’t know shit’s hit the fan until its mid-point reveal when ominous bass blasts a thunderous soundtrack as its protagonist defiantly walks away after committing the perfect crime. “It makes you wait, and more songs should have sirens,” Olive grins.

Leaning deeper into alter-egos via the video game-psychological horror of a Silent Hill dystopia, the band’s Fight Club moment ‘Angles Mortz’ turns its literal translation of death angles on its head as it reflects upon kink and internalised shame reincarnated as pride. Elsewhere the ice cool ‘Landslide’ is a Requiem for a Dream about the addiction of being in a band; ‘The Void’ explores co-dependency and estranged relationships; and carefully selected samples revive house track ‘Just A Kid’ from the band’s early incarnation. Passenger’s every direction is to face challenges head on. “That is what’s so great about horror; you can see through predictable patterns so when the unexpected occurs it's more realistic and uncomfortable… I want to own the dark stuff!”

As for Passenger’s first single, the pulsating ‘Ascension’ is a spiralling deep dive into death, suicide, and legacy around who or what we leave behind. A noughties club banger by way of NYC beats - ergonomically designed for those who like to stay out a little too often and too late - it throbs like a house party’s partition wall as the literal levelling up undergoes a neon transformation; blue glitching to pink, diffusing the white construct of the Nightbus Matrix. “It really does feel like the end of something and was purposely written that way,” they say, “the ascension is like a firework going off!”

With wheels in motion, Nightbus has become a movement surpassing sonic realms. Between shows from Porto to Brighton taking in The Great Escape, Rotterdam’s Left Of The Dial and Paris’ Supersonic; DJing; remixing; guesting (BDRMM’s Microtonic album); and even enlisting talented like-minds to craft a 3-part queer coming-of-age music video series which ties in with a new ‘hyperpop’ phase in the evolution of their popular Nightbus Soundsystem club night, heads are now being turned from sports brands to high-end fashion designers. “There are things we can’t reveal just yet,” tells Olive, “but we’re excited about the direction this beast we’ve created is heading.” As the album philosophises and asks one ultimate question; what does it truly mean to be ‘Passenger’? Nightbus may not claim to offer a definitive answer, but it might make you feel a bit better about those demons.

blickwinkel warmly welcomes Brussels-based composer Roxane Métayer to the label with her new album »Vies Sylvestres«, out on November 21 on vinyl and digital formats. The album was conceived and developed during performances and travels in Japan in 2023, where its sounds and ideas gradually came together.

»Vies Sylvestres« continues the direction of her previous release on Kraak, where Métayer built imagined narratives unfolding in forests or urban spaces inhabited by animal and plant characters. On this new album, however, the presence of these elements becomes more explicit and central. Field recordings are not solely used as backdrops but become compositions, complementing the instrumental works and expanding the album’s narrative into the realm of lived sound and place.

The listener encounters recordings of crickets and birds but we're also witnessing a scenery at a Buddhist temple. As such, combined with violin, electronics, and voice, Métayer explores the relationship between the natural environment and human culture. Her work bridges both worlds, showing how sound can connect different spaces and contexts.

In the summer of 2021, Brighton-based, Scottish-Thai songwriter Helen Ganya's grandmother passed away

The grief hit the artist hard, not only because it marked the loss of her last remaining grandparent, but also because it felt like her links to being half- Thai were disintegrating, roots quaking and shifting in uncharted territories. Ganya grew up in Singapore, but spent her summers in the northeast of Thailand where her mum's side of the family is from, visiting her grandmother. Where would all those memories go now that the person at the centre of them was gone? What was her relationship to this place without that glue? And so, in an attempt to process it all, Ganya began to write. "I got my diary and wrote every single memory of my time as a child in Thailand, spending time with her, my grandad, my aunts and cousins and everything," she explains, "I had these snapshots of memories that I just wrote down because I just suddenly panicked: it was like, who am I, then?" It was for this reason that, while Helen Ganya was waiting for her acclaimed 2022 album, polish the machine, to come out, she was already working on what would become her arresting new record, Share Your Care. Ganya has been releasing music since 2015 (formerly under the moniker Dog in the Snow). In the records she's put out over the years, she's shown a proclivity towards dark and artful rock and off- kilter sounds, garnering praise from the likes of the Sunday Times, Uncut, Clash, Loud & Quiet and more. But Share Your Caremarks a new era, building on Ganya's past sonic worlds and interspersing them with traditional Thai instrumentation, resulting in a plush, luminous, psych-tinged affair that is full of feeling. The result is a triumphant, abundant record, teeming with heart and cinematic warmth.

We the cyber ants
survivors of the post human era
by smashing dystopic hegemonies
together in colonies we cooperate
through a chemical communication strategy.
Crossing underground labyrinths
as clever roots
in symbiotic relationships we live and
in freaky spirals we dance 'til down.
Catching electricity with feelers
we destroy the buildings of
the enemies of love.
We're a neglected community
an unconquered moltitude of
Yessensis
Longicornis
Solenopsis and Subterranean
Martialis Eureka
Colobopsis Explodens and more.
Souls inside exoskeletons
we don't need your past
'cause we are your future.

James Brown wants to know one thing before he and his band begin Sex Machine. “Can I get into the thing, really?,” he asks. His cohorts enthusiastically respond in the affirmative. And for the next hour and change, Mr. Dynamite gets into it and more, turning in a sweat-soaked, feet-moving, hip-swiveling, emotion-purging, in-the-red, drop-everything-you’re-doing-and-dance performance for the ages. Ranked by Rolling Stone among the 500 Greatest Albums of All Time, the sweeping 1970 effort towers as a testament to Brown’s inimitable legacy as well as the peak powers of his voice, vibrancy, and bands.

Sourced from the original master tapes, pressed at Fidelity Record Pressing, and housed in a Stoughton gatefold jacket, Mobile Fidelity’s numbered-edition 180g 33RPM 2LP set presents Sex Machine in audiophile sound for the first time. It explodes with the energy the lightning-strike music demands. Dynamic, immediate, present, airy: Everything from the brassiness and fluidity of the horns to the snap and decay of the snare to the swell and carry of the organ comes across in full-range perspective.

Then there’s Brown’s superhuman singing, which here emerges with a purity, naturalism, and transparency that ensure you feel everything. Screeching, shouting, pleading, moaning, preaching, stinging, commanding, testifying, crooning, humming: The Godfather of Soul contributes one of the finest vocal performances known to man. This definitive 55th anniversary reissue of Brown’s monster funk statement further exhibits a combination of clarity, solidity, separation, and imaging that helps bring to light what he and his crack ensembles committed to tape. Both in the studio and on the stage.

Just how lifelike does this reissue sound? Senior Mobile Fidelity Sound Lab engineer Krieg Wunderlich, who handled the remaster, notes: “There were some artifacts that sounded a bit like mistracking. But they turned out to be breath blasts on the vocal microphone. That is part of history. JB was workin' hard, and breathin' hard. And there was an edit the timing of that was truly strange. Again, a part of history.”

Originally marketed as a live album, Sex Machine contains six songs recorded in the studio and later overdubbed with canned crowd noise and reverberation. Save for “Low Down Popcorn,” the tracks on the latter half stem from a phenomenal performance captured in October 1969 at Bell Auditorium in Brown’s adopted hometown of Augusta, GA. The special relationship between the singer, the audience, and the location is palpable.

As the 1960s gave way to a new decade, Brown experienced immense success and dealt with unexpected change. Soul Brother Number One soon expanded his idea for an official live album captured in Augusta when the ensemble that backed him on that date morphed into the original version of the world-famous J.B.’s just months after the show. The virtuosic abilities, sticky chemistry, and rhythm-forward nature of the J.B.’s prompted him to book a one-off session in Cincinnati, OH, on a late July night.

Anchored by brothers William “Bootsy” Collins and Phelps “Catfish” Collins, the group — as well as two different drummers — laid down a nearly 11-minute rendition of “Get Up I Feel Like Being Like a Sex Machine” and a thrilling medley of “Bewildered,” “I Got the Feeling,” and “Give It Up or Turnit a Loose.” A pair of then-recent studio singles cut in separate locations in 1969, “Brother Rapp” and “Low Down Popcorn,” each featuring his prior group, took care of the second LP worth of material that complements the originally planned live set.

Complicated? Somewhat. Unusual? Definitely. But just as he elevated the expectations for all present and future R&B artists, Brown not only makes it all work. He makes it positively electrifying.

“Get Up I Feel Like Being Like a Sex Machine” is alone deserving of a dissertation on the art of funk music, seeing it moves up and down akin to an oil derrick, witnesses Brown unleashing a trademark series of grunts, squeaks, and “good god” asides, and glides to a hypnotic groove that won’t quit. Or look to the syncopated rhythms of “Brother Rapp (Part I and Part II),” one of multiple pieces here that signify the point where Brown began viewing every instrument as a percussive tool. Brown closes the three-song medley with his new band with a skedaddling “Give It Up or Turnit a Loose,” which provides jolts on the order of sticking your finger into a socket.

Not that the actual live material falls short in any way. Setting an insistent tempo for the vitality that follows, “I Don’t Want Nobody to Give Me Nothing” positions Brown as a role model, leader, and self-sufficient entrepreneur. All simmer and boil, the short and sweet “Licking Stick” dares you to keep pace. The floating, almost comforting “Spinning Wheel” spotlights the instrumental prowess of Maceo Parker and company, and functions as a seamless segue into the tender, horn-saluted “If I Ruled the World.”

And Brown and his mates still aren’t done. Just try to resist the one-two closing punch of “I Can’t Stand Myself (When You Touch Me)” and “Mother Popcorn.” Mercy.

Ain’t it funky? Sure ‘nuff.

Agathe Plaisance, a self-taught visual artist and musician, creates a universe where the softness of folk origins gradually metamorphoses, giving way to sonic explorations that push the door open to other worlds. Her light-and-dark electronic pop plunges us into her inner world, with deeply intimate lyrics about illness, addiction, the relationship with oneself and with others. The Lynchian atmosphere created by the synth layers surround an ethereal voice, echoing the work of artists such as Cat Power and Mazzy Star. Through a live performance of continuous tension, the woman in the making explores herself and seeks to transcend her pain in order to reinvent herself. With this new album, Agathe Plaisance delivers an intense and introspective work, born from a period of deep depression. She explores with honesty her anger, losses, fears, and addictions, while also casting a clear-eyed gaze on those of others. Despite the darkness that runs through the record, glimpses of hope, love, and light begin to surface, offering a path toward healing. Deep Rest is more than just a title - it's a metaphor, a play of shadow and light at the heart of the project. The artist transforms pain into a tool for reinvention. Her folk beginnings gradually give way to more electronic and experimental sounds - a shift that mirrors her personal rebirth.

Will Dorey (aka Skinshape) and Ben Bell founded Horus Records in 2013, driven by a shared passion for vintage Jamaican music. Originally launched as a reissue label focusing on rare and hard-to-find reggae gems, Horus has since evolved into a space for original studio productions rooted in the rich traditions of 60s and 70s Jamaican reggae and dub.

Lifelong collaborators and friends, Will and Ben have been making music together for over two decades. Their deep connection to the genre has led to long-standing relationships with many of reggae’s most respected musicians, several of whom contribute to their latest studio album. This new release is a fully analogue reggae/dub studio album, showcasing the duo’s production craft and featuring guest vocalists Andy Platts, Modou Touré, and Winston Reedy. Blending classic influences with fresh interpretations, the album includes original compositions alongside inspired covers, such as a distinctive reggae reworking of the Interstellar theme tune.

Outside of the studio, Ben Bell is co-owner of Lion Vibes Record Shop, one of London's leading reggae specialists, while Skinshape continues to push sonic boundaries from the same studio, known for his unique cross-genre productions spanning funk, psych, soul, and more.

Her music is a form of auditory interpretation, powered by curiosity and her toolkit of modular, analog, and rare synthesizers (including her signature Buchla), orchestral textures, and voice. Since her first self-releases in 2012 (Tides), she has explored the endless possibilities of electronic instruments and the relationship between sound, shape, color, body movement, and expression. GUSH follows Kaitlyn's recent collaboration with Hot Chip's Joe Goddard on the 2024 Neptunes EP, and it marks the first taste of new music since her 2022 full-length Lets Turn It Into Sound, which was nominated for the LIBERA Awards Best Electronic Album of the Year and won the praise of NPR Music, Pitchfork, The Guardian, Bandcamp, and more. In GUSH, she sets her sights on aesthetics, focusing on the heightened awareness of and presence in the world, where every interaction whether with people, objects, or nature has the potential to become a moment of connection, and personification.

Slip is Paul Abbott’s response to his 3 day residency at OTO in 2023. It’s a continued exploration of the acoustic-digital hybrid drum setup Abbott has been developing for some time, which involves drum kit and synthetic sounds combined closely—through an entanglement of limbs and cables—in an intimate but strange relationship with each other.

Paul Abbott hasn’t had any formal musical training, but has a long history of making music, having collaborated for years with Seymour Wright, Pat Thomas, Michael Speers, Cara Tolmie, Anne Gillis and many others. Eventually, led by a profound suspicion of what is fixed or limited, Abbott began finding other ways to organise sound - or what he calls ‘material’:

“I wanted a way to 'persuade' or guide the possibility of something happening - my activity or the events of an algorithmic composition - for example, but without certainty or formalism. It felt to me, during playing, that certain ideas had a particular sort of shape, but more than the form of a line. I began to write alongside (before/after) playing the drums, and ‘characters’ began to enter the scene as a more wobbly, and therefore appropriate option to notation. Working with these characters allowed me to simultaneously approach body, imagination, language and music: without dividing things up or separating these aspects from each other. It allowed me to leave things messy and entangled, whilst trying to deal with form and specificity: wanting to have some things feel or respond differently to other things at other times.”

In approaching his residency, Abbott developed a fixed cast of characters - crystal, lleaf, reiy.F, reiy.C, strike, nee, qosel, sphu and aahn. They each communicate using different kinds of movement and drum kit/s, and Abbott choreographed them as ‘dances’ based on different feelings, or outlines of behaviours suggestive of ways of moving (body, drums, sounds). He then arranged these characters into ‘compositions’: one for each performance day, with each composition featuring multi-layered activity - options for behaviours, ways to move around the rooms, play drums, develop synthetic sounds, change the lights or re-distribute the sound in the space.

After the performances, Abbott took home 9 hours of recordings split into up to 28 multitrack channels for each day, and re-organised his cast once more into a performance for 2LP, CD and digital. It’s an enormous amount of work - but Abbott is activated by the process. For him, the pleasure of unstable edges, possibilities, slippages, is the vital attraction. Like all living organisms, Abbott’s characters have malleability and responsivity. They stimulate a bundle of possible behaviours, a tendency to act a certain way, a temperament, a boundary of respective limits or affordances.

It’s an affective way of working, inclusive of Roscoe Mitchell, Sun Ra, Nathaniel Mackey and Milford Graves. In ‘Pulseology’(2022), Milford Graves reminds us, ‘Breath varies, so cardiac rhythm never has that (metronomic) tempo. It’s always changing. All the alignments of the heart are determined based on the needs of the cells, specifically tissues and organs. The heart knows if it needs to speed up.’ In Slip, to slip, in a heartbeat, is to descend not into the grid of the even metre accorded to the heartbeat, but into a play of mutability and modality. To change is the condition of the heart.

2025 Repress

DJ Koze exists both above and beyond club culture as we know it - his albums and remixes flying free from genre and trend - and symbiotically woven into its heart. Yes, he always abstracts and weirds out the principles of house, techno, hip hop, pop, psychedelia, exotica and so forth, but he does that because he understands them. And when it comes to club-demolishing tracks, he understands those principles as well as just about anybody on earth. Thus he could create an enduring club tune like 2015's 'XTC' that is strange, contemplative, even disturbing, bore little relation to anything around at the time, yet still got bodies moving and sweating better than way more obvious techno bangers. And thus the Knock Knock album, which melts a million genres and none into one another, can comfortably include 'Seeing Aliens". 'Seeing Aliens' unquestionably is a banger, its bass riff snaking around your body like a python, its high-drama strings, pianos and outbursts of noise designed for maximum crowd pressure release. But, again, it sounds like nothing else, and its dynamics and twists unfold over eight and a half minutes in ways that will mess with your head every time no matter how many times you hear it. The exclusive b-side track, 'Nein König Nein' ("No King No"!), meanwhile, is slightly gentler on the face of it: it's less about sonic pressure, more about hip-shaking syncopation. But it too tells strange fairytales in its peculiar and brain-tweaking accumulation of detail, and though you'll hear archetypal sounds from the heart of house and disco in it, every last one of them becomes new and otherworldly.