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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)

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.

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

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.

In-demand, groove-fuelled producer Opolopo and 24 Carat singer-songwriter Angela Johnson join forces for the eagerly awaited album ‘Best Of Both Worlds’ – a stellar collection of uplifting, struttin’ soulful house, disco & beat-laden music.

Stockholm-based DJ-producer Opolopo can boast two decades’ worth of productions right across the soulful dancefloor spectrum for labels such as Local Talk, Z Records and Defected. His remix discography includes Gregory Porter, Jungle, Leroy Burgess and Mother’s Favorite Child. NYC native Angela Johnson was a member of acid jazz group Cooly’s Hot Box before enjoying solo success via a string of acclaimed R&B albums including They Don’t Know, It’s Personal and Naturally Me & featuring on a host of singles from Reel People Music.

The album follows previous collaborations and provides another stylish pooling of these two soulful talents. The chemistry fizzes and uplifts as ever, Johnson’s rich, fully-flavoured vocals riding confidently upon struttin’ disco, soulful house & dancefloor dynamite.

Moon White Vinyl. All her life, Emma Hardyman has wrestled with contradictions. After all, she was practically rendered a living, breathing contradiction the moment she was born into her half-Peruvian, half-white working-class Mormon family. In young adulthood, Hardyman became increasingly disillusioned with Mormonism's righteous black-and-white thinking, as well as its exclusionary elitism, and decided to leave the church. But she also acknowledged that the institution's all-or-nothing philosophy had become a part of her, resulting in a considerable test of grace and unlearning. As the singer-songwriter behind Little Moon, the Tiny Desk Contest-winning, Utah-based avant-folk project, Hardyman uses music as an outlet to illuminate contradictions of all kinds. Following the release of her 2020 debut LP Unphased, Hardyman set out to write a romantic album about her newlywed husband Nathan (who also sings and plays guitar in Little Moon), but the universe had other plans. After Nathan's mother tragically passed away, Hardyman recalibrated her vision and started work on a love-as-grief, grief-as-love album titled Dear Divine. The record serves as a mirror for the darkest parts of ourselves, allowing us to examine our ego_not to dismantle it, but to better understand how we love, process adversity and move through the world. Centering the classical music, folk, video game soundtracks and Tabernacle Choir hymns she grew up with, as well as ephemeral snapshots of personal significance, Dear Divine is an abundant tapestry of Hardyman's life. As enlivening melodies radiate from a string trio, you can envision the classical music that thrums from her parents' radio 24/7, as Hardyman sings in an otherworldly coo, you can imagine her younger self swooning over the tranquil records of Vashti Bunyan and Joan Baez, and as arpeggiated synths twinkle, you can visualize the enchanting kingdom of Hyrule from The Legend of Zelda: Ocarina of Time that she still adores. Songs like "now" and "messy love" embrace the gloriously jumbled stew of life, with the former chronicling Hardyman's arduous quest for love and trust and the latter patiently navigating the ways romantic partners can mirror each other's shortcomings. As Dear Divine attests, Emma Hardyman may not have it all figured out, but that's kind of the point. Through grief, faith crises and all-encompassing love, she's found the most wisdom in life's maddeningly consistent inconsistencies, as well as the subtle ways one can cultivate a feeling of home. Dear Divine doesn't take a red pen to life, it brings an open heart, an open mind and achingly beautiful, opulently weird folk songs.

Sam Redmore made a significant impact on the UK music scene with his debut album Universal Vibrations, a vibrant collection of eclectic, dancefloor-ready tracks that earned extensive radio play on BBC 6 Music. His follow-up album Modulate builds on this foundation, blending electronic and live instrumentation across a diverse range of genres, from house and funk to afrobeat and salsa. Sam, now exploring and expanding his creative process, incorporated live performances into the album's development, and collaborated with notable artists including Dele Sosimi and Abdominal.

A hard rock mash up - Bandleader Paul Ngozi's split album with his drummer and co-vocalist Chrissy Zebby Tembo. The set includes an oversized 8 page booklet detailing Ngozi’s arc, rare photographs, discography and annotations.

"Zambia’s Zamrock movement that exploded in the 1970s...provided young musicians access to European and American music, and created a unique sound. At its root, Zamrock melded fuzz-toned psychedelia, chugging garage rock and roiling funk with a broad mix of African cadences and beats...enlivening a scene that included bands like Musi-O-Tunya, Amanaz and the Ngozi Family” - New York Times

Zamrock was a bona-fide rock scene: on the African continent, only Nigeria can claim one so comprehensive, and Nigeria’s was largely catalyzed and funded by subsidiaries of the European major labels. Zamrock was as independent as the newly-named country, formerly known as Northern Rhodesia. Zamrock is starting in its completeness, especially for a scene that emerged, unfurled and disappeared so quickly. From Musi-O-Tunyaís fusion of Fela’s Afro-beat, Hendrix’s rock, South African jazz and traditional Zambian melodies and rhythms to Salty Dog’s acid folk/rock, Zambia’s rock scene contained all of rock’s subgenres. Zamrock was much more than an imitation of American and European rock music: it quickly became a uniquely Zambian movement, befitting of its name. WITCH, Paul Ngozi and Amanaz sound nothing like other rock music from the African continent - or elsewhere. Zamrock came from a nation's youth carrying forth the momentum of a political and social revolution with a musical revolution that maintained the fiery power of early rock - in the mid-to late-70s. From that era, Zamrockís energy is matched only by the punk and hip hop scenes of England and America.

“Friends, they are my ticket out of this place I am in… feels like nothing more than a dirt bike vacation stop between Phoenix and San Diego.” Dirt Bike Vacation—for Worried Songs Records—explores the sonic world of the late amateur guitar player, Charles ‘Poppy Bob’ Walker, through a captivating set of instrumental songs made in the mid-1980s. Recorded on a single-track, Marantz field recorder, the project is a transportive document of Walker’s days spent as a meatpacking employee in Yuma, Arizona and the dailiness of that existence: driving to work, sitting in his backyard, walking around drunkenly, unwinding on the couch with a friend. These sketches, showing an experimental tendency, are surprisingly ahead of their time; some exhibit ad hoc tape delay (“Granite Bluffs,” “Goodbye YMCA”), while others make use of primitive overdubbing (“Continuation to Moon Doctor”). Not dissimilar to works such as Bruce Langhorne’s The Hired Hand soundtrack, Walker’s guitar playing is melodic, texturally rich and beautifully sober. On a musical tour from Nashville to Los Angeles, musician-archivist, Cameron Knowler, uncovered these songs from a series of dusty cassette tapes housed at a branch of the Yuma County Library. Originally tipped off by cryptic metadata entries found through an online finding aid, Knowler requested a sound sample and was immediately drawn in by their eerie, yet hopeful nature: “I didn’t care what they sounded like at first, but once I heard just a few seconds, I had to find out everything I could about Charles, who he was, and if he was still alive.” As it turns out, the two had miraculously crossed paths over 20 years prior when Cameron was a young boy accompanying his mother, a gem trader, on a biyearly sojourn to Quartzsite, a town 80 miles north of Yuma: “Charles, sitting down and smoking in a recliner, withdrawn, held what I now understand to be a mid-1990s Martin D-28 guitar. Unlike other old-timers, his instrument was sharply tuned and had a nice sound, even to my young and uncalibrated ears. Though his left hand showed signs of highly developed arthritis, his musical ideas were animated by a palpably deep understanding of fretboard anatomy, arrangement and harmony.” Sorting through the index cards associated with these tapes, Knowler was able to gain a detailed sense of most recording’s provenance, whereabouts and time: Walker’s Datsun pickup truck chugging along boiling hot Interstate 80, the Marine Corps Air Station parking lot, the Eastern Wetlands on the banks of the Colorado River, a fishing trip to Martinez Lake. Trying to reduce the amount of his own subjectivities coloring the work, Cameron constructed titles and track sequences by borrowing information gleaned from Charles’ handwritten notes: “I tried to organize everything by time of day, giving the listener the sense of how a Yuma day might sound and feel like, and each song title—even the record itself—is borrowed from his own words.” This proved no small task, as many notecards had to be deciphered and then coupled with their native tapes which needed extensive restoration treatments. The result is a project very much out of the blue, and one that is intensely personal to Knowler, having grown up in the same town under similar circumstances. “It feels like a part of my own journey as a guitarist reckoning with the defining marks of a gothic border town,” he remarks. “At the time I would’ve met Walker, I didn’t have much outside influence, but he has been in there all the while.” In their current form, the tracks combine to create a sonic journey that boldly contributes to the traditions of acoustic guitar soli, archival digs and field recordings all the same; most importantly, it is a creative document which shows a day-in-the-life of a man grappling with the human experience under a ubiquitous Yuma sun.

‘I Got What You Need’ is the statement from a troubadour coming into town to inform and entertain the people. Bearing songs of soul searching, of spiritual uplift, of tunes to groove to. Equipped with a powerful voice and stinging guitar the troubadour lays down his marker and backs up the statement. Two Times UK Blues Award winner Mississippi MacDonald has it all to play that troubadour as he presents his third album on APM Records. The gravelly Gospel tones on If I Could Only Hear My Mother Pray Again, and the imploring emotion on Your Dreams have MacDonald stretching out vocally. The former song in turn also showcasing another tour de force from regular backing vocalist Lucy Randall. Two self-penned instrumentals pay tribute; 3.35AM, to one of MacDonald’s prime influences Freddie King, and Soul City One to the in-house studio sound of Stax / MacDonald continues to be an excellent interpreter of southern soul and two more songs from the stable of Memphis studio and publishing house Ecko in Hard Luck and Trouble and the title track prove this. So too the band’s take on the R&B classic We’re Gonna Make It which in MacDonald’s hands really swings. Sinking is an epic ballad in which to lose yourself completely. The album is rich in variety, vibe and soulful energy. It’s MacDonald’s Blues and a whole lot more. MacDonald is a guest artist with the ‘Take Me To The River All Stars’, performing on stage at Red Rooster, filmed in session with Eric Gales and Jools Holland, and is filmed again at Royal Studios in Memphis on October 1st. MacDonald and band will perform at the UK Blues Challenge on October 8th, MacDonald is special guest of Visit Mississippi in Liverpool on October 18th when they unveil the first ever Blues Trail marker outside The Cavern. MacDonald will perform with Clarksdale veteran Super Chikan. International PR agent Blind Raccoon has been engaged to promote the new album. Last album ‘Heavy State Loving Blues’ was no. 1 on Roots Music Radio Contemporary Blues, no.1 on the IBBA chart for albums of the year 2023, and top 50 on the US Apple iTunes Blues chart, plus plays and a session on BBC Radio 2 Blues Show (Cerys Mathews). Live shows running up to end of March 2025. A singer/ songwriter from London who speaks quietly but makes music with real gravitas. A rising star since winning Traditional Blues Artist Of The Year and Acoustic Act of the Year at the 2024 UK Blues Awards. MacDonald has released two previous albums on APM Records. ‘Heavy State Loving Blues’ in 2023, and ‘Do Right Say Right’ in 2021- selected as a top 10 Blues album of the year in MOJO.

Anlässlich des 20-jährigen Jubiläums des Albums „The Very Best Of“, erscheinen dieses und seine drei Vorgänger „The Mass“ (2003), „ERA I“ (2002) und „Era II“ (2000) zum ersten Mal auf Vinyl. Die ERA-Alben umfassen einen Mix aus Gregorianischen Gesängen, Rock, Pop, elektronischen Klängen und klassischer Musik. Für die Lyrics verwendet Eric Lévi, der Künstler hinter dem Projekt „ERA“, eine
imaginäre Sprache, die Latein ähnelt.

Statt Strukturen, die durch Zeit oder Kultur auferlegt wurden, zu folgen, ist der Künstler auf der Suche nach starken Emotionen. In seinen Alben setzt er diese anschließend musikalisch um. Außerdem, verfasst
Eric Lévi die meisten seiner Lieder mit dem Gedanken Soundtracks für epische Filme zu erschaffen. Die außergewöhnliche Arbeit von ERA berührt die Herzen und Seelen von Millionen Menschen weltweit.
ERAs Alben haben sich millionenfach verkauft und wurden in mehr als 18 Ländern mit Multi-Platin ausgezeichnet.

On Maza Gusu, Mikado Koko transforms into Mother Goose, hissing Perrault's fairy tales from her native tongue in your ears. Her unsettling, regressive voice is backed up by a subtle and chilling electronic soundscape sprinkled with traditional Japanese instruments, creating a realm of sound that feels both weirdly familiar and deeply unknown. Mother Koko hurls you deep down the rabbit hole, back to your darkest childhood anguishes, before gently leading you by the hand to a joyful catharsis. As you slowly get used to its disturbing familiarity, Koko’s music feels like waking up in the pale morning light, shaky but relieved after a feverish dream.

In summer 2017 Mikado Koko started her solo career as a club music producer with the elements of Japanese traditional music. After many releases, remixes and compilations such as Seitō: In the Beginning, Woman Was the Sun (AKU1016), she now focuses on avant-garde poetry reading related to feminism and gender equality.

Edgar Allan Poes zeitlose Poesie, gelesen von Künstlern, Schriftstellern, Dichtern, Musikern und Magiern, im Dienste des Werks und auch im Gedenken an einen großen Freund und Weggefährten auf den musikalischen Wegen, Hal Willner. Kramer hat eine eklektische Liste von Stimmen zusammengestellt, um den alten Worten eine neue Vision zu geben. Mit dabei Joan As Police Woman, Edgar Oliver, Thurston Moore, Britta Phillips, Lydia Lunch, Rick Moody, und andere. Die von Kramer geschaffene Musik, die jede Lesung begleitet, lässt das Licht auf den Interpreten scheinen und poliert den Raum zwischen der Poesie und der Aufführung. Den Abschluss des Albums bildet eine Archivaufnahme von Allen Ginsberg, der ,The Bells" lebendig vorträgt. Die unbegleitete Lesung vom Juni 1981 ist ein Auszug aus seinem Studienkurs ,Expansive Poetics" an der Naropa School of Disembodied Poets in Boulder, Colorado.

In collaboration with Back Lot Music and Monkeypaw Productions, Waxwork Records is proud to present MONKEY MAN Original Motion Picture Soundtrack by Jed Kurzel. Monkey Man is a 2024 action-thriller film directed, co-written, and produced by Dev Patel in his directorial debut.

The film follows "Kid", an anonymous young man who ekes out a meager living in an underground fight club where, night after night, wearing a monkey mask, he is beaten bloody by more popular fighters for cash. After years of suppressed rage, Kid discovers a way to infiltrate the enclave of the city's sinister elite. As his childhood trauma boils over, his mysteriously scarred hands unleash an explosive campaign of retribution to settle the score with the men who took everything from him.

Jed Kurzel is an award winning Australian singer-songwriter-guitarist and film composer. His scoring credits include The Babadook, Alien: Covenant, Overlord, Assassin's Creed, and others.

Waxwork Records proudly presents MONKEY MAN Original Motion Picture Soundtrack as a deluxe double LP featuring Blood Red, Black, and Metallic Gold A-Side B-Side colored vinyl, new artwork by Sajan Rai, exclusive director and composer liner notes, heavyweight gatefold packaging, and an 11"x11 insert.