quête:moth

Classic no filler roots rockers selection from Jimmy Radway's Fe Mi Time productions.

Free Help is Minnesota trio Heart to Gold's celebration of the titular idea, conceived while broken down on the side of a road in Georgia. Recorded at Will Yip's Studio 4 and releasing on Memory Music, it's an expertly arranged, arena-sized rendering of the group's scrappy, bold guitar rock, a heartening mix of melodic punk, cavernous post-hardcore, and '90s alt-rock. It's the sound and feeling of a band growing into adulthood and maturity_singer Grant Whiteoak's writing is subtle and figurative, a result of deepening introspection spurred by years of touring.Free Help represents a push beyond Heart to Gold's long-time community, and a broadening of the boundaries of the project. The rich, spacious single "Can't Feel Me," released in February, evidenced this new sound and space, and record opener "Surrounded" leaves no room for doubt: This is Heart to Gold operating on a new level. It's a sleek, pit-ready thrasher, tearing at the seams with energy and intention, loaded with melody. There are classic, pedal-to-the-metal bangers, like "Get It Back" and "Blow Up the Spot," alongside the down-tempo drift of "Pandora," and the multi-movement epic "Belonging." Here it is, from Heart to Gold to you: Free Help.

"7"" single for the djs of the initial digital 45 of Peixeira Amolada e Quebra Queixo b/w Mariposa Tigre.

Peixeira Amolada e Quebra Queixo It represents two popular stereotypes common in the third world: the sharp cutting knife and the quebra-queixo, the coconut candy brought from Angola by enslaved blacks. But, playfully, it is also the expression of direct speech and a sharp blow, also as a duo of anti-heroes in search of justice, equality and fraternity. This song also features an element never used before in the band: the guitar. One of the most popular instruments in the world, it provides the basis for the song, which goes through a groove full of counter-melodies that bring that feeling of a cut (hence the name of the song), in non-obvious conventions, and a surprising ending in another time signature. As well as the musical reference for the name, this track represents the struggle that many Brazilians go through every day to have a decent life. You have to have a ""sharpened knife"" to open the way.

Quebra Queixo Represents the playful and magical beings of the forest. How can a moth be a tiger? This song carries a lot of the sound Nomade has built up over the course of their career. Strong funk influences, ethno groove, with unconventional brass themes and a very jazzy accent. Halfway through the song, another of the band's very strong references comes to the fore: reggae, more precisely ragga, which makes the song even more danceable. Finally, a convention from the whole band brings the song to a grand end, making you want to listen to it again."

Black Cherry. Fiddlehead's debut LP Springtime and Blind is an exploration of grief both introspective and through the insight of others. Following the release of their Out of the Bloom EP on Lockin Out Records, the Boston-based band have created a debut LP that shares an anguishing, relatable story of love and loss through the catharsis of spirited, loud indie rock. Consisting of guitarist Alex Henery (also of Basement), vocalist Patrick Flynn and drummer Shawn Costa (both of Have Heart), Fiddlehead explore musical styles different from their other projects while bringing a familiar energetic and emotional core to the collaboration. Springtime and Blind stemmed from Pat's loss of his father. Flynn looks at how his mother coped with the situation- losing her spouse, her center of gravity -writing the lyrics as an emotional catharsis for both of them. While the process of writing and recording helped Flynn cope with his personal loss there's no doubt it carries a universal message that can help ease others' loneliness. A contrast to itself, Springtime and Blind is a multidimensional and relatable journey through its cathartic message and spirited instrumentals.

Ava Mendoza has never made an album quite as personal as her second solo full-length, The Circular Train. Through her decades of collaborations with Nels Cline, Carla Bozulich, William Parker, Fred Frith, Matana Roberts, and Mick Barr—plus years leading her power trio Unnatural Ways and playing in Bill Orcutt’s quartet—the guitarist’s name has become synonymous with virtuoso technique, raw passion, and visceral resonance, a player pushing the edges of the guitar’s possibilities. Along the way, from 2007 to 2023, Mendoza was writing these slow-burning, incandescent songs. The Circular Train is comprised solely of her single-tracked guitar playing and, on two songs, her corporeal singing. Her first solo LP of original material since relocating from California to New York City a decade ago, much of The Circular Train was honed amid pandemic years that clarified the virtues of slowing down. This expressive avant-rock is a definitive introduction to one of the most uncompromising and inquisitive visions in creative music. Mendoza’s thrilling melange of free jazz, blues, noise, classical training, and blazing experimental rock’n’roll all coheres with ecstatic feedback, with picking and solos that crest with shimmer. Sometimes she sounds like a one-woman Sonic Youth with guttural and poised vocals that equally evoke Patti Smith and blues greats like Jessie Mae Hemphill. Conceptually, The Circular Train is presented as a psychogeographical train ride through certain of Mendoza’s musical homelands. The songs draw on ancestral and recent familial memories, notably of her parents’ roots in mining towns—in her father’s home country of Bolivia and mother’s hometown of Butte, Montana, each country with its own history of colonialism, racism, forced labor, the eradication of culture and the subsequent excavation of it. These adventurous songs were composed in cars and planes, in the heart of the Mississippi Delta, in Los Angeles and upstate New York—which is to say in motion. “Ride to Cerro Rico,” named for the mountain and silver mine at the center of Potosi, Bolivia, was inspired by Mendoza’s great grandmother’s life there in a Quechua mining family. “Dust From the Mines” drew from that history as well as Mendoza’s familial lineage of miners in Montana, building up to stunning swaths of shredded iridescence. “Pink River Dolphins” was inspired by a visit to the Amazon rainforest, swimming with dolphins alongside her father—the pink bufeos that inhabit both Bolivia and Columbia—and the song is dedicated to the memory of Mendoza’s late friend, the Colombian-American trumpeter jaimie branch. They shared a fascination with those intelligent and agile creatures who often communicate by echolocation. “Make a sound, it comes back around,” Mendoza sings, and later, “Echo, echo/The answer in a sound,” evoking what branch knew well: through music we navigate life. The Circular Train contains one cover, “Irene, Goodnight,” composed by Gussie Lord Davis and popularized by Leadbelly; Mendoza has been performing it for over 20 years. Almost as deeply embedded in her repertoire is the penultimate track, “The Shadow Song.” “Treat your shadow kind and it might treat you good,” Mendoza sings on this song that she’s been reworking for over a decade, an emblem of devotion. “Treat your shadow kind and it might treat you right,” she repeats, becoming a blues mantra. What is a shadow self if not one’s secret world, which, once laid bare, awaits an echo, a return?

Night On Earth records
is an independent structure/label created 20 years ago which deals with
the invisible and the deviant,
the void and the love,
the parallax and the unknown …
we release vinyls and tapes
we organise events
we are you and us
we are nothing and everything
we are oblivion and memory
we are your egotrip’s nightmare
we are your deviancy catharsis
meet us through this double LP which is one cartography of the night on earth vortex across 3 continents and several generations of music freaks and braincrackers

Some Artists missing there (there are too much : RINUS VAN ALEBEEK, SS MYLITTA, SOLAR SKELETONS, THE RADAR THREAT, ÂME DE BOUE, and.. RIPIT !

Multi Culti World Records venture deeper into the new new age with the release of 'Ocean of Beauty - Meditations for Synthesizer and Bansuri Flute,' a collaboration between California-based artist/DJ Earthtones and Indian classical musician Sheela Bringi. Earthtones, fresh off his genre-defying debut album on Wonderwheel, here dives into the deep end of the ocean of ambient. With music that traverses cultures,he’s known for bridging influences from Cumbia to hip hop and house music. Here he presents his most consciousness-expanding work yet, no doubt influenced by his involvement in Ojai new age culture,years living in ashrams, practicing Shaktism,+ spending as much time curating sounds suitable foraural healing and meditation as for dance-floors. He’s found a perfect muse in Boulder-based Sheela Bringi, whose virtuosity in Indian classical music sets the tone of the record with her bansuri (Indianbamboo flute) & harp, blending traditional instrumentation with more contemporary influences. Bringi was a direct disciple of bansuri master GSSachdev, and represents a devotional musical lineage. She has released two solo albums, 'Shakti Sutra' and 'Incantations,' and her work has been featured on over 50 world and ambient records, plus publicly on outlets from NPR to NBC News, & more. 'Ocean of Beauty' is the English translation of an ancient Sanskrit text devoted to the divine mother, the Sri Saundarya Lahari, The song titles are taken from verses in that text, and the album is in fact a dedication to the goddess Lalita Devi. It creates a serene, meditative space which seamlessly blends traditions; synth-driven ragas with a spirit of tranquility that nurtures Multi Culti’s philosophical bent towards ‘music without borders.’

Recorded at the Studio Acousti, Paris, September 23, 1965.

Original LP issue: International Polydor Production – 46.871.

This self-titled album is a testimony of the short lived-band led by New-York drummer Ron Jefferson during his stay in Paris in the mid-60s. After a first album under his name on Pacific Jazz in 1962, the founding member of The Jazz Modes and the Les McCann trio made the trip overseas.

Here, he made his living by playing with the popular pianists Errol Parker or Hazel Scott but his main drive was this trio that he formed with two other US expats, bassist Roland Haynes (the same musician who recorded an album on Black Jazz as a pianist, as confirmed by Kirk Lightsey) and guitarist Buz Saviano. After a highly successful show at ‘Palais de Chaillot’ in 1965, they were invited for a series of concerts in Dakar Sénégal. On their return, Polydor International proposed them this session. You can hear the deep impact their stay in the Motherland had on their music on the stand-out track ‘Africa the Beautiful’. On pair with the best of Yusef Lateef’s afro-eastern explorations from the time, it showcases Ron on flute and Senegalese percussion. The album release nonetheless was a commercial failure that prompted the band’s separation and Ron’s return to New-York where he performed until his passing in 2007.

Only a few copies of this record ever made it to the shops at the time and very few have had the chance to listen to it before this legit reissue remastered from the original MONO master tapes.

– Antoine Rajon –

Ron Jefferson (Drums & Flute)
Buz Saviano (Guitar)
Roland Haynes (Bass)
Jackie Robinson (Vocal on The Speaker)

Die neue EP der Melodic Synth Metal-Pioniere - mit zwei brandneuen Tracks und weiteren spannenden Überraschungen!
Nach ihrem Erfolgsalbum Dark Waters (2023, #9 der offiziellen deutschen Albumcharts) veröffentlichen die Melodic Synth Metal-Pioniere DELAIN
diesen Herbst ihre neue EP, Dance with the Devil.
Die Platte erscheint über Napalm Records und enthält neben zwei brandneuen Songs weitere spannende Überraschungen, die kein Fan verpassen
sollte! Dance with the Devil vereint Vergangenheit, Gegenwart und Zukunft und präsentiert die Kraft des neu formierten Lineups in einem vollen,
modernen Sound, der die Vorfreude auf all das schürt, was von der Band um Gründer und Mastermind Martijn Westerholt zu erwarten sein wird.

Mit der neuen Doppel-LP 'Long Distance Love - A Sweet Relief Tribute to Lowell George' hat Sweet Relief, die Organisation, die alle Arten von Berufsmusikern und Beschäftigten der Musikindustrie finanziell unterstützt, die mit körperlichen oder geistigen Problemen, Behinderungen oder altersbedingten Problemen zu kämpfen haben, ein Juwel vorgelegt.

Lowell George war der Gitarrenvirtuose, Sänger und Songschreiber von Little Feat. In dieser Sammlung von 25 Liedern interpretieren und spielen Künstler wie Elvis Costello, Ben Harper und Dave Alvin seinen vielfältigen Katalog. Der in Hollywood, Kalifornien, geborene George war Mitglied von Frank Zappas Mothers of Inventions, bevor er diese Band verließ und mit Bill Payne Little Feat gründete. Lowell gehörte der Band 7 Jahre lang bis zu seinem Tod an und veröffentlichte in dieser Zeit acht Alben. Obwohl George 1979 starb, lebt sein Vermächtnis durch dieses Album weiter.

Beyond the Valley of the Murderdolls is the debut studio album by American horror punk supergroup Murderdolls. It was released in 2002. The album reached number 40 on the UK Albums Chart, and sold over 100,000 copies in the U.S.

Murderdolls are a side project for Slipknot drummer Joey Jordison and Static-X guitarist Tripp Eisen.

The music on the album is fast and macabre, stuck in a time warp that hurtles them backwards to the decayed sounds of the '80s. Call it gutter-punk, glam rock, or hair metal, every style is displayed here in its despondent glory, bearing close comparisons to shock-punkers the Misfits. The Murderdolls draw inspiration from movies such as Friday the 13th, Night of the Living Dead, and Phantasm. The 15 tracks found here are full of tongue-in-cheek horror clichés.

Beyond the Valley of the Murderdolls is now available on black vinyl and contains a 6 panel insert.

Led by pianist/composer Barbara Fiig, the ensemble is made up of three creative communicators self described as blue sheep " of the jazz world. First stumbling into each other at the music education program at Classical Music Conservatory DKDM, their sound is rooted in collaboration and community, drawing on elements of musical poetry, jazz, folk, Nordic and Classical traditions. Regarding the name Blåly , the trio explains that it is a made up word open to interpretation. Derived from the wordly "", meaning shelter " in Danish, it is reflective of the shared feelings of safety and introspection the trio find in their music making and that they hope to impart onto their audience. Exploring themes of motherhood, new beginnings, mental health, identity, and the cathartic potential of music, the record is built around Fiigs personal approach to the piano. Combining gentle lyrical melodies and colorful melancholic harmony, Blåly perform and interpret each piece with a mature, spacious and textural sound palette, ebbing and flowing between the composed and the improvised in a collective exchange of ideas and energy. Driving drum grooves, hypnotic piano patterns and ethereal timbres from bowed double bass craft a stripped back sound world that is simple, immersive, honest,

Jawad Nawfal and Mazen El Sayed, better known by their stage names of MUNMA and EL RASS, met for the first time in Beirut, during the summer of 2011. A common friend told Jawad wonders about an MC who rapped and slammed in the classical Arabic language, as opposed to the vernacular Lebanese dialect. The two musicians met in a small café in Beirut’s Hamra neighborhood, spoke of music, argued about politics, and decided to collaborate at once. They began working on tracks the following day. A month later, they had already produced a dozen sketches, instrumental beds and accapella vocal tracks. These demos eventually landed in the hands of Ziad Nawfal and Fadi Tabbal, who set out to bring to life the duo’s first recorded album. “Kachf el Mahjoub” (the title is from a Sufi master-work penned some 900 years ago) was eventually released as a limited edition of 500 CD’s, during a launch event at then-budding alternative venue Metro al Madina in Hamra, on the 22nd of February 2012. These CDs went out of print in record time, as can be expected, and the album’s mythical status became reinforced over time – El Rass & Munma collaborated sporadically during the next ten years, but never fully grasped the level of musical intensity and explosive tension attained on this first outing. It has been a longstanding dream of ours, here at Ruptured, to produce a vinyl version of this album, and we are thrilled to say this moment has finally come. Artist ALI RAFEI’s original artworks have been painstakingly reproduced, the music has been dutifully remastered for vinyl by CEDRIK FERMONT, and the records were pressed by our friends at Mother Tongue in Verona. We added bonus track "Fi Kala'at Tarablus" to this 10th anniversary reissue for good measure – recorded during the same sessions that yielded “Kachf el Mahjoub”, it appears on the digital version of the album. “Kachf el Mahjoub” is a landmark album in Lebanon’s alternative music scene, and the MENA region’s hiphop and indie scenes writ large. At the time of their collaboration, El Sayed was a prolific writer and musician, at ease with a variety of instruments, notorious for his masterful flow in the classical Arabic language, with lyrics tackling both social and political sensitive subjects; Nawfal has previously released an impressive number of albums and EPs, exploring downtempo electronica and ambient dubstep, for a number of Lebanese and international labels. The collision of the former’s brazen, slammed vocals and the latter’s harsh beats works wonders on “Kachf el Mahjoub”, Munma’s sound-world perfectly fitting El Rass’s agitated discourse, alternating between broken beats, elaborate percussion, and ambient layers of synths. At times reminiscent of mutant hiphop outfit Shabazz Palaces, at others of the collaboration between dubstep producer Kode9 and the late vocalist The SpaceApe, this album is an uncanny meeting of Arabic hip-hop and electronica, an exceptional event in the realm of contemporary Lebanese alternative music.

Just under a year after their acclaimed self-titled debut, dreampop duo deary release a brand new six-track EP – Aurelia – via Sonic Cathedral on November 1. It includes the singles ‘The Moth’, ‘Selene’ and ‘The Drift’ and features Slowdive drummer Simon Scott playing on three songs. It will be available on three different vinyl variants, a CD with three bonus tracks and digitally. It’s a stunning record, which displays a new-found maturity in terms of production as well as musically and lyrically. The band – singer Rebecca ‘Dottie’ Cockram and guitarist/producer Ben Easton – have had to grow up in public since the release of their debut single at the start of 2023, supporting legends such as Slowdive and Cranes and TikTok sensations like Wisp along the way. An aurelian is a rare old term for a lepidopterist – someone who studies and collects moths – derived from the Latin aurelia, meaning chrysalis. The perfect title for an EP which is based around the theme of metamorphosis and change. “It leans on the natural world, the human body, the earth and sky as well as human emotion,” says Ben of how the EP represents physical and metaphysical growth. “Change can be daunting but equally exciting, which is something we’ve come to learn.” “While writing the EP, I found a letter I had written to myself when I was 22,” adds Dottie. “I was fresh out of university and had moved back in with my parents as Covid was in full force. I was uninspired and lost and reaching out to my future self for some hope. It was a physical representation of what can happen in a few years; how much can change and how you never know what’s coming next. “I found it interesting that – at the age of 26 – here I was looking back to my younger self for hope or just some comfort in the fact that things will and do move on. It was important to me to bring both of these versions of myself into the new songs.” “Personally, I had noticed a change in myself; a new level of social anxiety, a strange disassociation to things that once brought me joy as well as negative repetitions in my daily life,” reveals Ben. “I began the year sober which allowed me to finish the writing process as a letter of care to my own mental health. There are motifs throughout the EP – for example the riffs in ‘The Moth’ and ‘The Drift’ being reminiscent of each other – which are like musical reflections of these repeated cycles.” It’s musically where the change deary have undergone is most obvious. ‘The Moth’ mixes howling guitars atop a strident breakbeat making it more Curve than Cocteaus; ‘Selene’ is a slow-building wall of noise; ‘The Drift’ combines a perfect pop melody with an incredible sense of urgency. These three singles are balanced by the brief but beautiful ‘Where You Are’ which leads into the Portishead-style trip-hop of ‘Dream Of Me’. The title track has been a staple of their live sets for about a year as ‘Can’t Sleep Tonight’, but its mix of The Cure circa Disintegration and Mezzanine Massive Attack has grown and evolved so much that they renamed it ‘Aurelia’ as the embodiment of the change they have been through. “We’ve allowed deary to naturally grow over the past year, we didn’t want to force it to take a certain shape or sound,” explains Dottie of the duo’s slow and steady approach. “A lot of the last EP was written by sending ideas back and forth over WhatsApp, but this time we were able to sit in the same room and I think that really shows. We know each other a lot better now as we have experienced this journey together and that benefits the writing process as we are more open with each other and can be vulnerable.” “Aurelia definitely feels a lot more collaborative, more personal and more fully realised than the first EP,” concludes Ben. “It feels like a real document of what has been a very important time in both of our lives. Ironically, the band has changed and matured even more since the recording, so we’re both excited to document the next stage

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

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

The third edition of our 2xLP Suntrip Classix series is now available! We chose the name Gaia for this one. And as usual, it has a reason. The front picture is made on earth (or Gaia). And its not just earth, it is the beach of ZNA festival. On this soil we celebrated the music and our life so deeply. We are lucky beings to live on such a wonderful planet so the Gaia artwork is a tribute to our mother earth!

The photography was made by Simeon Van Der Hoeven and the people on the cover are all volunteer on the festival itself! :) And the music? Well, the name Suntrip Classix says exactly where this is all about. 8
of our most acclaimed, wanted and loved tracks, finally available on vinyl :)

Motherland is an electrified open letter to our dying planet. Having released a past solo EP in 2019, Motherland remains Lia"s first full-length offering. A longform listen of both heartbreak and help and healing. Seeing debilitation in its many forms and making art amidst the continued struggle. Her heavy lyrical content swirls through synth flutters and hard-hitting drums, making for a captivating contrast. Dystopian and dreamy. Ambient layers and atmospheric backdrops with piano ballads, downtempo electronica, and drum and bass. The influences of James Blake and Frou Frou ooze through these tracks. Think Låpsley, FKA Twigs, Kllo, Caroline Polachek.

Jon Hopkins 2nd album 'Contact Note' on standard double black vinyl. Divided in three distinct movements, 'Contact Note' slowly evolves into a deep, compelling musical experience concluding with the stunning third part where Jon masters to perfection his skills as a classically trained musician, to give his most abstract work delicate impressionist touches. Classical piano contrasts with drifting atmospheres and twisted rhythms on the dark, edgy and gripping 'Black And Red' - to culminate with the waving synths and sumptuous vocals of the blissful 'Luna Moth', the perfect end of a glorious sonic adventure.