Buscar:move d wanna do

Apocalypse 91... The Enemy Strikes Black by Public Enemy, released 25 April 2025, includes the following tracks: "Nighttrain", "I Don't Wanna be Called Yo Niga", "By the Time I Get to Arizona" and more.

This version of Apocalypse 91... The Enemy Strikes Black comes as a 2xLP.

The vinyl is pressed as a translucent, green disc. Another vinyl is pressed as a translucent, green disc.

Kneading dough is tricky – you should know how it’s supposed to feel. If you try too hard you could make it worse. It’s a beautiful practice – creation with a gentle touch, to work at something so it can be left alone. “If it’s too drawn out it’s awful. It’s easy to give too much.” Dance in the mirror. Contemplate your veiny hands. Who do they remind you of?

You begin by mixing flour and water. “What happens when your people die? Why’d they move the rock to the other side of Ulster Park?” Eliza Niemi asks two seemingly unrelated questions in a rising melody with guitar accompaniment, like fingers playing spider up to the nape of your neck. Gentle pressure. Strands of gluten form to bind the mix. A new question lingers in the binding. When she admits “but I don’t know how to tell if I’m feeling it or not,” that question surfaces through the text. It is reiterated throughout the album. When I’m working with dough I think the same thing to myself.

On Progress Bakery, her second album as a solo artist, Eliza knows to leave some questions alone – to let juxtaposition and tension be the proof. It doesn’t have to be hard. The feelings and revelations they provoke rise in the heat. The smell is sweet. Crispy on the outside and soft all the way through. She playfully slip-slides through words and sounds and images, delighting in surprise, skimming ideas like stones cast across clear water, touching down briefly with uncommon grace.

The question provoked between those opening lines resurfaces in the strands between songs – “Do U FM” is fully formed and beautifully layered, while “Novelist Sad Face” is a short, acapella rendering of gentle curiosity. What is holding these ideas together? Some songs demand more, seem to carry a whole load – eventually the skipping stone will halt to sink and resume its idle duty – while others drift in and out of focus, the way thoughts and dreams become interwoven before the mind is sunk into true sleep.

Music and words don’t always have to interact. Where she decides to keep them apart gives a new contour to where and how she puts them together. The kind of thing you’re supposed to take for granted with songs and their singers comes alive in Eliza’s hands – the little miracle of mixing, kneading, stretching, and stopping.

So often on Progress Bakery, Eliza teases out truth and meaning by asking questions. “Do I wanna be crying?” “Do you want me good or do you want me bad?” “Do I need an eye test?” “I’m writing songs in my head while you’re going over stuff with me — is that cruel??” In “Pocky” Eliza ends with a question that feels to me like the actual biography, succinct and revealing:

I don’t wanna be made to see
I just wanna ask “what’s that?”

Grace that ought to be rare, but in its care and precision is offered humbly, with great generosity, and without announcing itself. Eliza’s simple, miraculous music is given further form and shape by a group of collaborators – invaluable guest musicians Jeremy Ray, Evan Cartwright, Steven McPhail, Kenny Boothby, Ed Squires, Carolina Chauffe, Dorothea Paas, Louie Short, and Avalon Tassonyi. Together with Louie Short, who recorded, mixed, and produced the album along with Jeremy Ray and Lukas Cheung, Eliza has cultivated a richness in sound and texture that prods and provokes the ticklish ear. Barely audible guitar tinkering, a brief lo-fi field recording of trumpets, the harmonic clicking of a looped synthesizer, a flourish of reeds, a child’s conversation, each uncanny sound perfectly placed, rippling out under a soft breeze.

Lay in bed alone at night and ask aloud to the stillness,

“What were you doing at the Albuquerque Airport?
What were you doing there??”

And hear your question answered by a dream of swelling, undulating cellos. Try to grasp at the melody and structure. It’s not an answer (if there could be one), but it moves deeper, closer to the weird layer of fleeting moments and disconnected images, barely perceptible at its core. Wait for the dream reel to click into place.

Eliza took me for a ride in Nicole (her beloved Dodge Grand Caravan) and told me she’d been thinking of the album as an embodiment of transition – and I think every transition, known or unknown, carries the weight of new meaning, skittering off the surface tension of life as you know it, creating ripples, sometimes bouncing off and sometimes breaking through. There is a trick you can use to tell if a dough is glutinous enough. You’re supposed to stretch it out as thin as you can without breaking it and hold it up to the light. If you can see through, even if it renders the world murky and uncertain, you should leave it alone. I love this trick. It’s one that Eliza seems to know intuitively: work gently and ask questions and don’t always expect answers, and when you can, take a glimpse at something new, and then leave.

Kneading dough is tricky – you should know how it’s supposed to feel. If you try too hard you could make it worse. It’s a beautiful practice – creation with a gentle touch, to work at something so it can be left alone. “If it’s too drawn out it’s awful. It’s easy to give too much.” Dance in the mirror. Contemplate your veiny hands. Who do they remind you of?

You begin by mixing flour and water. “What happens when your people die? Why’d they move the rock to the other side of Ulster Park?” Eliza Niemi asks two seemingly unrelated questions in a rising melody with guitar accompaniment, like fingers playing spider up to the nape of your neck. Gentle pressure. Strands of gluten form to bind the mix. A new question lingers in the binding. When she admits “but I don’t know how to tell if I’m feeling it or not,” that question surfaces through the text. It is reiterated throughout the album. When I’m working with dough I think the same thing to myself.

On Progress Bakery, her second album as a solo artist, Eliza knows to leave some questions alone – to let juxtaposition and tension be the proof. It doesn’t have to be hard. The feelings and revelations they provoke rise in the heat. The smell is sweet. Crispy on the outside and soft all the way through. She playfully slip-slides through words and sounds and images, delighting in surprise, skimming ideas like stones cast across clear water, touching down briefly with uncommon grace.

The question provoked between those opening lines resurfaces in the strands between songs – “Do U FM” is fully formed and beautifully layered, while “Novelist Sad Face” is a short, acapella rendering of gentle curiosity. What is holding these ideas together? Some songs demand more, seem to carry a whole load – eventually the skipping stone will halt to sink and resume its idle duty – while others drift in and out of focus, the way thoughts and dreams become interwoven before the mind is sunk into true sleep.

Music and words don’t always have to interact. Where she decides to keep them apart gives a new contour to where and how she puts them together. The kind of thing you’re supposed to take for granted with songs and their singers comes alive in Eliza’s hands – the little miracle of mixing, kneading, stretching, and stopping.

So often on Progress Bakery, Eliza teases out truth and meaning by asking questions. “Do I wanna be crying?” “Do you want me good or do you want me bad?” “Do I need an eye test?” “I’m writing songs in my head while you’re going over stuff with me — is that cruel??” In “Pocky” Eliza ends with a question that feels to me like the actual biography, succinct and revealing:

I don’t wanna be made to see
I just wanna ask “what’s that?”

Grace that ought to be rare, but in its care and precision is offered humbly, with great generosity, and without announcing itself. Eliza’s simple, miraculous music is given further form and shape by a group of collaborators – invaluable guest musicians Jeremy Ray, Evan Cartwright, Steven McPhail, Kenny Boothby, Ed Squires, Carolina Chauffe, Dorothea Paas, Louie Short, and Avalon Tassonyi. Together with Louie Short, who recorded, mixed, and produced the album along with Jeremy Ray and Lukas Cheung, Eliza has cultivated a richness in sound and texture that prods and provokes the ticklish ear. Barely audible guitar tinkering, a brief lo-fi field recording of trumpets, the harmonic clicking of a looped synthesizer, a flourish of reeds, a child’s conversation, each uncanny sound perfectly placed, rippling out under a soft breeze.

Lay in bed alone at night and ask aloud to the stillness,

“What were you doing at the Albuquerque Airport?
What were you doing there??”

And hear your question answered by a dream of swelling, undulating cellos. Try to grasp at the melody and structure. It’s not an answer (if there could be one), but it moves deeper, closer to the weird layer of fleeting moments and disconnected images, barely perceptible at its core. Wait for the dream reel to click into place.

Eliza took me for a ride in Nicole (her beloved Dodge Grand Caravan) and told me she’d been thinking of the album as an embodiment of transition – and I think every transition, known or unknown, carries the weight of new meaning, skittering off the surface tension of life as you know it, creating ripples, sometimes bouncing off and sometimes breaking through. There is a trick you can use to tell if a dough is glutinous enough. You’re supposed to stretch it out as thin as you can without breaking it and hold it up to the light. If you can see through, even if it renders the world murky and uncertain, you should leave it alone. I love this trick. It’s one that Eliza seems to know intuitively: work gently and ask questions and don’t always expect answers, and when you can, take a glimpse at something new, and then leave.

Kneading dough is tricky – you should know how it’s supposed to feel. If you try too hard you could make it worse. It’s a beautiful practice – creation with a gentle touch, to work at something so it can be left alone. “If it’s too drawn out it’s awful. It’s easy to give too much.” Dance in the mirror. Contemplate your veiny hands. Who do they remind you of?

You begin by mixing flour and water. “What happens when your people die? Why’d they move the rock to the other side of Ulster Park?” Eliza Niemi asks two seemingly unrelated questions in a rising melody with guitar accompaniment, like fingers playing spider up to the nape of your neck. Gentle pressure. Strands of gluten form to bind the mix. A new question lingers in the binding. When she admits “but I don’t know how to tell if I’m feeling it or not,” that question surfaces through the text. It is reiterated throughout the album. When I’m working with dough I think the same thing to myself.

On Progress Bakery, her second album as a solo artist, Eliza knows to leave some questions alone – to let juxtaposition and tension be the proof. It doesn’t have to be hard. The feelings and revelations they provoke rise in the heat. The smell is sweet. Crispy on the outside and soft all the way through. She playfully slip-slides through words and sounds and images, delighting in surprise, skimming ideas like stones cast across clear water, touching down briefly with uncommon grace.

The question provoked between those opening lines resurfaces in the strands between songs – “Do U FM” is fully formed and beautifully layered, while “Novelist Sad Face” is a short, acapella rendering of gentle curiosity. What is holding these ideas together? Some songs demand more, seem to carry a whole load – eventually the skipping stone will halt to sink and resume its idle duty – while others drift in and out of focus, the way thoughts and dreams become interwoven before the mind is sunk into true sleep.

Music and words don’t always have to interact. Where she decides to keep them apart gives a new contour to where and how she puts them together. The kind of thing you’re supposed to take for granted with songs and their singers comes alive in Eliza’s hands – the little miracle of mixing, kneading, stretching, and stopping.

So often on Progress Bakery, Eliza teases out truth and meaning by asking questions. “Do I wanna be crying?” “Do you want me good or do you want me bad?” “Do I need an eye test?” “I’m writing songs in my head while you’re going over stuff with me — is that cruel??” In “Pocky” Eliza ends with a question that feels to me like the actual biography, succinct and revealing:

I don’t wanna be made to see
I just wanna ask “what’s that?”

Grace that ought to be rare, but in its care and precision is offered humbly, with great generosity, and without announcing itself. Eliza’s simple, miraculous music is given further form and shape by a group of collaborators – invaluable guest musicians Jeremy Ray, Evan Cartwright, Steven McPhail, Kenny Boothby, Ed Squires, Carolina Chauffe, Dorothea Paas, Louie Short, and Avalon Tassonyi. Together with Louie Short, who recorded, mixed, and produced the album along with Jeremy Ray and Lukas Cheung, Eliza has cultivated a richness in sound and texture that prods and provokes the ticklish ear. Barely audible guitar tinkering, a brief lo-fi field recording of trumpets, the harmonic clicking of a looped synthesizer, a flourish of reeds, a child’s conversation, each uncanny sound perfectly placed, rippling out under a soft breeze.

Lay in bed alone at night and ask aloud to the stillness,

“What were you doing at the Albuquerque Airport?
What were you doing there??”

And hear your question answered by a dream of swelling, undulating cellos. Try to grasp at the melody and structure. It’s not an answer (if there could be one), but it moves deeper, closer to the weird layer of fleeting moments and disconnected images, barely perceptible at its core. Wait for the dream reel to click into place.

Eliza took me for a ride in Nicole (her beloved Dodge Grand Caravan) and told me she’d been thinking of the album as an embodiment of transition – and I think every transition, known or unknown, carries the weight of new meaning, skittering off the surface tension of life as you know it, creating ripples, sometimes bouncing off and sometimes breaking through. There is a trick you can use to tell if a dough is glutinous enough. You’re supposed to stretch it out as thin as you can without breaking it and hold it up to the light. If you can see through, even if it renders the world murky and uncertain, you should leave it alone. I love this trick. It’s one that Eliza seems to know intuitively: work gently and ask questions and don’t always expect answers, and when you can, take a glimpse at something new, and then leave.

Preparing your debut full length record is no small undertaking for any artist. The format itself deserves a certain frame of mind and approach – it’s different, and with Sarah Wild’s debut LP she embraces the idea. Expanding her artistic vision to offer something different, making use of the format and bringing new ideas and musical pathways to her established sound. Releasing on her imprint Midnight Operators in early 2025 – My Body Flows In Gravity constitutes a sophisticated homage to the early 2000s trance movement, integrating nostalgic motifs with her ultra-on point production that sits perfect in todays scene.

From the dreamy proto-house vibes of the opener, establishing a foundation with its understated beats, to the Orbital-esk serenity of the title track My Body Flows In Gravity the album works at evoking the emotive resonance of a golden era of music reborn. This trip is backed up by the Early-Balearic styled tracks such as “Fly With Me To The Moon” and “Visit To Mars” which pull you into hazy smoked filled dancefloor territory, hypnotic melodic progressions effectively capture the essence of Trance’s peak cultural moment.

At the mid point “I Don’t Wanna Go” introduces a different dimension, exploring a more Euro sound that is at the peak of the contemporary scene, but infused with Sarah’s unique edge, hyper pumping beats work alongside spoken word to really up the tempo. Following this the journey returns to a more progressive feel, “Floating Around” and ” On My Way Home” take things into deeper territory, bringing the focus’s of the record back the groove after the blurry eyed highs. Bringing the record in for a perfect landing. There is an emotional duality to this record, a movement through a juxtaposition of yearning and almost frantic emotions alongside more uplifting harmonics through to more introspective moments. The final track “Landing” gracefully closes this arc.

Sarah Wild delivers a sonic journey as much concerned with the process as with the destination itself. My Body Flows In Gravity shows Wild’s capacity to synthesize the deeply personal with the universally resonant, a set of tracks that equally speak to the introspective solitude as they do to the collective euphoria of the dancefloor.

The monolithically heavy, uniquely mercurial UK quartet Sugar Horse are proud to announce their new album Grand Scheme Of Things, to be released 4th October via Pelagic Records. Darting wildly between dark/light, pain/bliss and sacred/profane, the band originating from Bristol offers a different perspective on Post Metal! On Grand Scheme Of Things, Sugar Horse comment: "This album was intended to be a sideways step. A move away from the kind of thing that is expected of us_ if anything is at all. What I mean by that, is the songs are more direct. They take a much shorter amount of time to "get to the point". We also wanted to make this one noticeably "less Metal". While we love being a bit boneheaded and confrontational, we definitely wanted to explore the more melodic, song-based side of the band's sound. Normally you'd see shortened song structures and more singing and think "Oh these guys are going for gold_.they wanna get on the radio and make millions of bloodstained pounds." Well_you're very much entitled to think that if you wish, but it felt like more of a songwriting challenge than anything else to be honest. We've done the whole drawn out, endless Space Rock thing a good few times now and it would've been easy to rest on those laurels. Do something we're comfortable with. Alas, that is not really the point of this band. We'd much prefer to make it difficult and take the long route."

The monolithically heavy, uniquely mercurial UK quartet Sugar Horse are proud to announce their new album Grand Scheme Of Things, to be released 4th October via Pelagic Records. Darting wildly between dark/light, pain/bliss and sacred/profane, the band originating from Bristol offers a different perspective on Post Metal! On Grand Scheme Of Things, Sugar Horse comment: "This album was intended to be a sideways step. A move away from the kind of thing that is expected of us_ if anything is at all. What I mean by that, is the songs are more direct. They take a much shorter amount of time to "get to the point". We also wanted to make this one noticeably "less Metal". While we love being a bit boneheaded and confrontational, we definitely wanted to explore the more melodic, song-based side of the band's sound. Normally you'd see shortened song structures and more singing and think "Oh these guys are going for gold_.they wanna get on the radio and make millions of bloodstained pounds." Well_you're very much entitled to think that if you wish, but it felt like more of a songwriting challenge than anything else to be honest. We've done the whole drawn out, endless Space Rock thing a good few times now and it would've been easy to rest on those laurels. Do something we're comfortable with. Alas, that is not really the point of this band. We'd much prefer to make it difficult and take the long route."

Dark Entries and Honey Soundsystem Records have teamed up once more to release the final volume of gay porn soundtracks by San Francisco-based musician and producer, Patrick Cowley. One of the most revolutionary and influential figures in the canon of disco, Cowley created his own brand of Hi-NRG dance music, The San Francisco Sound.' Born in Buffalo, NY on October 19, 1950, Patrick moved to San Francisco in 1971 to study at the City College of San Francisco. He founded the Electronic Music Lab at the school, where he would make experimental soundtracks by blending various types of music and adapting them to the synthesizer.

By the mid-70's, Patrick's synthesis techniques landed him a job composing and producing songs for disco superstar Sylvester, including hits like You Make Me Feel (Mighty Real)', Dance Disco Heat' and Stars.' This helped Patrick obtain more work as a remixer and producer. His 18-minute long remix of Donna Summer's I Feel Love' and his production work with edgy New Wave band Indoor Life were both of particular note. By 1981, Patrick had released a string of dance 12 singles, like Menergy' and Megatron Man'. He also had founded Megatone Records, the label upon which he released his debut album, Menergy'. Around this time Patrick was hospitalized and diagnosed with an unknown illness: that which would later be called AIDS. Throughout 1982, he recorded two more Hi-NRG hits, Do You Wanna Funk' for Sylvester, and Right On Target' for Paul Parker, as well as a second solo album Mind Warp'. On November 12, 1982, he passed away.

In 1979 Patrick was contacted by John Coletti, owner of famed gay porn company Fox Studio in Los Angeles. Patrick jumped on this offer and sent reels of his college compositions from the 70s to John in LA. Coletti then used a variable speed oscillator to adjust the pitch and speed of Patrick's songs in-sync with the film scenes. The result was the VHS collections Muscle Up' and School Daze' released in 1979 and 1980. Afternooners' is the third collection of Cowley's instrumental songs, recorded in May 1982. These recordings were culled from two 23-minute reels in the Fox Studio vaults. All songs were originally untitled, so we've used the titles from Fox Studio's 8mm film loops. This compilation also includes three bonus tracks found in the archives of fellow Megatone Records recording artist Paul Parker and the attic of teenage friend Lily Bartels. Influenced by Tomita, Wendy Carlos, and Giorgio Moroder, Patrick crafted a singular sound from his collection of synthesizers, percussion, modified guitars, and hand-built equipment. The listener enters a world of forbidden vices, evocative of Patrick's time spent in the bathhouses of San Francisco. The songs on Afternooners' reflect the advances of the equipment available at the onset of the 1980s. Cowley's unadulterated electronic forms are stripped down and dubbed up. Lush electronic percussion, soaring synthesizer riffs and low slung funk grooves comingle on these magnificent soundscapes.

Featuring 70 minutes of music never before released on vinyl. All songs have been remastered by George Horn at Fantasy Studios in Berkeley, CA. The vinyl is housed in a gatefold jacket designed by Berlin-based artist Gwenael Rattke, featuring black and white photos of Patrick in his studio that opens to a full color array of x-rated scenes from the Fox Studio vaults. Included is a fold-out poster featuring a handmade collage using photography and xeroxed graphics of classic gay porn imagery and an essay from Drew Daniel of Matmos. For Patrick's 67th birthday, Dark Entries and Honey Soundsystem Records present a glimpse into the futuristic world of a young genius. These recordings shed a new light on the experimental side of a disco legend who was taken too soon.

DJ Support: Louie Vega, Ralf Gum, Jihad Muhammad, Zepherin Saint, Mr. V, Doug Gomez DjPope, DJ Beloved & Brutha Basil to name a few.

Sean McCabe’s Good Vibrations Music label opens the vault doors for a peek inside some of its closely guarded & much-loved releases courtesy of this special limited edition 12 inch. Featuring 4 new to vinyl releases & including a raft of luminary names from across the soulful spectrum this is sure to be a be a hot fave with long standing fans of the label.

Glenn Underground’s Jazz-Funk fuelled rework of 'This Place' kicks things off and needs no introduction… heavily supported & much loved through the soulful circles & beyond with the likes of Louie Vega, Dave Lee, Jimpster, Jamie 3:26 & Fred Everything (to name a few!) all loudly banging the drum – people have been clamouring for this to be on vinyl. You spoke, we listened!

Up next is 'Modulate', a collaborative force of the highest order between Sean & long-time friend Black Sonix. Expertly fuzzying the lines across Deep, Soulful & House is somewhat of a speciality for the duo respectively and there’s bags of all 3 intertwined throughout alongside a hefty sprinkling of sun-kissed, Latino-inspired pianos.

'Still Standing Here' kicks things off on the B-side and begin in March 2022 as vocalist Madeeha recorded an accapella vocal idea in a phone voice message, quietly singing into her phone to avoid waking the neighbours. She sent the idea to drum & bass producer from Bristol, DJ Mixjah, who then approached friend Sean McCabe with the idea. Together they produced a hypnotic afro-tinged soulful backing track to fit with the voice message, with an intention to re-record it in a studio environment. Sean and Mixjah soon realised that the music they had created blended perfectly with the sincerity, intimacy & rawness of Madeeha's heartfelt performance in the original voice message and decided to stick with it. A firm fave for Atjazz, Crackazat , DJ Spen & Emmaculate.

Wrapping things up is 'You Don’t Know', a slick & energetic dancefloor bubbler from London based producer/DJ ‘David Bailey’ and Canadian soulful songstress ‘MissFly’. David Bailey is a firm favourite amongst the London house music community. He’s produced standout releases on labels such as Idris Elba's 7wallace, Makin Moves, Good Vibrations Music, Rhemi Music & Unquantize. MissFly is known for her soulful serenades and ability to write songs 'on the fly' in the studio. She has carved out an impressive discography on soulful house nuggets such as '1972,' 'Wanna Love You' and 'Thankful'

Pål Waaktaar-Savoy has explained that much of the atmosphere and the lyrical themes of Savoy’s seventh album “Under” are drawn from his move with his fellow songwriter and wife Lauren Savoy to Los Angeles, where they found themselves surrounded by loneliness.

Waaktaar-Savoy is one of the most prolific and impressive songwriters of the twentieth century and beyond, and having been working at the very top of the music industry for as long as he has, it is no surprise that the record is well-crafted. The production is good, with careful arrangements and instrumentation. Every instrument’s voice is given room and there is space in the mix. Only occasionally does this slip over into over-production, as with the treated strings on the opening track “Lonely Surfer” or the treatment of Lauren’s vocals, which sound overly processed.

It is also true that the record exhibits a fair measure of melancholy. The chords and melody lines are dark in places, and there is a hint of sadness in the lyrics, many of which have a retrospective quality, describing moments in the past. However, beyond this, the understated feel of the record is just that – understated. Many of songs feel a few RPM too slow and the delivery of the vocal lines too underplayed to give them any emotional authority. At times, it also seems like the arrangement has to step in to bolster the songwriting or lyrics, by filling space with strings or brass, or the counterpoint of the instrumentation on “Camden Palace Chronicles” which distracts from some fairly mediocre words. It is important to emphasise that this is a joint songwriting exercise for Pål and Lauren, so we should not compare the output to the work of a-ha, but still, the themes lean in the direction of suburban banality, far from Pål’s more oblique or allegorical writing.

There are other moments of real quality beyond the production and arrangement. The title track has an excellent Bowie-esque chorus (and there are echoes of his work and sound throughout, along with Beatles and Beck), “The Life and Times of a Wannabe” has some first-rate guitar work on it, edgy riffs and some good textures. Likewise, “Coming Down”, which also exemplifies Frode Unneland’s drumming on the record, which is generally prominent in the mix, and with good reason, as it carries the record along well.

Bonny Light Horseman - das gefeierte Trio aus Anaïs Mitchell, Eric D. Johnson und Josh Kaufman - hat heute angekündigt, dass ihr drittes Album und Jagjaguwar-Debüt, das Doppelalbum Keep Me on Your Mind/See You Free, am 07. Juni 2024 erscheinen wird. Außerdem haben sie die Leadsingle "I Know You Know" zusammen mit ihrem allerersten Musikvideo veröffentlicht. Der Song, der von Mitchells und Johnsons stets eindringlichen Harmonien getragen wird, zeigt die Fähigkeit der Band, emotionale Erschütterung mit einer Pop-Sensibilität zu verbinden, wie das Wohlfühl-Arrangement und der hymnische Refrain.

Bonny Light Horseman - das gefeierte Trio aus Anaïs Mitchell, Eric D. Johnson und Josh Kaufman - hat heute angekündigt, dass ihr drittes Album und Jagjaguwar-Debüt, das Doppelalbum Keep Me on Your Mind/See You Free, am 07. Juni 2024 erscheinen wird. Außerdem haben sie die Leadsingle "I Know You Know" zusammen mit ihrem allerersten Musikvideo veröffentlicht. Der Song, der von Mitchells und Johnsons stets eindringlichen Harmonien getragen wird, zeigt die Fähigkeit der Band, emotionale Erschütterung mit einer Pop-Sensibilität zu verbinden, wie das Wohlfühl-Arrangement und der hymnische Refrain.

Pål Waaktaar-Savoy has explained that much of the atmosphere and the lyrical themes of Savoy’s seventh album “Under” are drawn from his move with his fellow songwriter and wife Lauren Savoy to Los Angeles, where they found themselves surrounded by loneliness.

Waaktaar-Savoy is one of the most prolific and impressive songwriters of the twentieth century and beyond, and having been working at the very top of the music industry for as long as he has, it is no surprise that the record is well-crafted. The production is good, with careful arrangements and instrumentation. Every instrument’s voice is given room and there is space in the mix. Only occasionally does this slip over into over-production, as with the treated strings on the opening track “Lonely Surfer” or the treatment of Lauren’s vocals, which sound overly processed.

It is also true that the record exhibits a fair measure of melancholy. The chords and melody lines are dark in places, and there is a hint of sadness in the lyrics, many of which have a retrospective quality, describing moments in the past. However, beyond this, the understated feel of the record is just that – understated. Many of songs feel a few RPM too slow and the delivery of the vocal lines too underplayed to give them any emotional authority. At times, it also seems like the arrangement has to step in to bolster the songwriting or lyrics, by filling space with strings or brass, or the counterpoint of the instrumentation on “Camden Palace Chronicles” which distracts from some fairly mediocre words. It is important to emphasise that this is a joint songwriting exercise for Pål and Lauren, so we should not compare the output to the work of a-ha, but still, the themes lean in the direction of suburban banality, far from Pål’s more oblique or allegorical writing.

There are other moments of real quality beyond the production and arrangement. The title track has an excellent Bowie-esque chorus (and there are echoes of his work and sound throughout, along with Beatles and Beck), “The Life and Times of a Wannabe” has some first-rate guitar work on it, edgy riffs and some good textures. Likewise, “Coming Down”, which also exemplifies Frode Unneland’s drumming on the record, which is generally prominent in the mix, and with good reason, as it carries the record along well.

Pål Waaktaar-Savoy has explained that much of the atmosphere and the lyrical themes of Savoy’s seventh album “Under” are drawn from his move with his fellow songwriter and wife Lauren Savoy to Los Angeles, where they found themselves surrounded by loneliness.

Waaktaar-Savoy is one of the most prolific and impressive songwriters of the twentieth century and beyond, and having been working at the very top of the music industry for as long as he has, it is no surprise that the record is well-crafted. The production is good, with careful arrangements and instrumentation. Every instrument’s voice is given room and there is space in the mix. Only occasionally does this slip over into over-production, as with the treated strings on the opening track “Lonely Surfer” or the treatment of Lauren’s vocals, which sound overly processed.

It is also true that the record exhibits a fair measure of melancholy. The chords and melody lines are dark in places, and there is a hint of sadness in the lyrics, many of which have a retrospective quality, describing moments in the past. However, beyond this, the understated feel of the record is just that – understated. Many of songs feel a few RPM too slow and the delivery of the vocal lines too underplayed to give them any emotional authority. At times, it also seems like the arrangement has to step in to bolster the songwriting or lyrics, by filling space with strings or brass, or the counterpoint of the instrumentation on “Camden Palace Chronicles” which distracts from some fairly mediocre words. It is important to emphasise that this is a joint songwriting exercise for Pål and Lauren, so we should not compare the output to the work of a-ha, but still, the themes lean in the direction of suburban banality, far from Pål’s more oblique or allegorical writing.

There are other moments of real quality beyond the production and arrangement. The title track has an excellent Bowie-esque chorus (and there are echoes of his work and sound throughout, along with Beatles and Beck), “The Life and Times of a Wannabe” has some first-rate guitar work on it, edgy riffs and some good textures. Likewise, “Coming Down”, which also exemplifies Frode Unneland’s drumming on the record, which is generally prominent in the mix, and with good reason, as it carries the record along well.

We are delighted to bring you the follow up to the successful 'The Bristol Punk Explosion (1977-1979) album released in November 2023 - a twelve-track compilation entitled 'The Bristol Punk Explosion Vol 2 (1977-1981).'The sleeve notes are written by Tim Williams author of the 1977 Loaded Fanzine. Tim talks about the transition from Soul to Punk, the demise of Prog Rock and the fashion culture that sat seamlessly alongside the music. There are three previously unreleased tracks never before available on vinyl. The Cortinas were the first. They played the Roxy Club, released two singles on Mark Perry and Miles Copeland's Step Forward label, graced the front cover of Sniffin' Glue and recorded a Peel Session. Taking their cue, bands like Social Security (the first band on Heartbeat Records), The Pigs (whose 'Youthanasia' single was released by Miles Copeland's New Bristol Records), The Media, 48 Hours and Private Dicks gave Bristol one of the strongest provincial early punk scenes. The area of Barton Hill gave us The X-Certs, who by 1978 could already pull audiences of five hundred into Trinity Hall. Though we did not realise it at the time, they effectively bridged the gap between the late 70s Bristol scene and what our American cousins like to term the UK82 bands. In time bands from the suburbs of Bristol started to appear on the scene, Misdemeanor (who were managed by the late Dennis Sheehan U2's tour manager for thirty plus years), Apartment from Downend (whose photo adorns the front cover) and Noiz Boiz from Weston Super Mare, the seaside town just down the road. This compilation is designed to give all fans of Punk a snapshot of what Bristol Punk was all about during that period. We close side Two of the album with The X-Certs Clash infused /reggae single 'Together' and follow it with one of Bristol finest Roots reggae bands Talisman and their single 'Wicked Dem'. The punky/reggae party had truly started as we move into the 80's Bristol Stylee! Bristol Boys Make More Noise!

The latest release on Jai Alai follows the format of forgotten vinyl tracks never before released on 7” format, or previously CD only album tracks, and will raise some eyebrows in artist selection and pairing.

Donaldson Toussaint L’Ouverture Byrd II was one of the most significant jazz artists of all time having joined Art Blakey’s Jazz Messengers in the mid-50s and establishing himself as one of the best hard bop trumpeter/flugelhorn players. His progression was continuous through the 50s/60s working with John Coltrane, Gigi Gryce, Pepper Adams, Thelonius Monk, Sonny Rollins as sideman, and became one of Blue Note Records leading artists.

By the end of the 60s Byrd decided to move away from that idiom, experimenting with jazz fusion, African music and Rhythm & Blues. He worked hard to make jazz and its history part of the curriculum in US music colleges and he taught at many including Rutgers, Hampton, Howard, and Columbia, the latter from who he received his PhD in music.
Byrd took a great interest in how Miles Davis’ experimentation was resonating with a younger audience, and despite being castigated by his musical peers, his development of jazz fusion changed the jazz scene forever. His work with the Blackbyrds was a cornerstone for the progression of jazz funk in the UK.

The effect of his hook-up with brothers Larry & Fonce Mizell was immediate and his Blue Notes albums “Black Byrd” (1973), “Street Lady”, “Stepping Into Tomorrow” (1974), “Places & Spaces” (1975) and “Caricatures” (1976) became legendary on the newly evolving jazz funk scene with certain tracks such as “Change (Makes You Wanna Hustle)” normalising dance jazz on the disco floors, not to mention being a rich source for many hip-hop samples.
A slightly leaner period followed when he moved to Elektra Records and of the three albums with his new incarnation 125th Street NYC, a group of musicians he taught at North Carolina Central University, two were produced by Isaac Hayes including “Words”, “Sounds, Colors & Shapes” (1982) from which “Everyday”, a fabulous forgotten piece of mellow jazz funk derives.

By the end of the 80s he had returned to his harder straight-ahead jazz roots, but his place in history and the evolving of jazz as a dance culture in our clubs should never be forgotten.

2024 RSD Release

Montreal's finest, Dave Allison, returns with a 2xLP packed with disco-funk party flips, deep atmospheric soundscapes, lounging pool vibes, and captivating deep house journeys for the club. His tracks and EPs have consistently dominated the hype charts, earning acclaim from luminaries and trendsetters worldwide, including Dimitri From Paris, Greg Wilson, Jimpster, Soul Clap, Tensnake, Lovebirds, The Revenge & more. Limited edition 2 x LP Purple Vinyl pressing with exclusive vinyl-only tracks.

Empires rise and fall every day in the human heart, and riding these cycles--stories with no beginning or end, only transformation--churns us through the reckless, ridiculous, rueful, redemptive. A founding member of Lake Street Dive and writer of some of their most enduring songs, Iowa-born and Brooklyn-based Bridget Kearney is known for writing smart, unexpected lyrics and melodies built for a heart-baring dance or an introspective drive. Kearney writes music as if filtered through a camera lens. Her stories, steeped in nostalgia and joy, construct a bittersweet framework around the memories that make us human, and shape who we are. As the absurdity of life abounds, Kearney can hold these fragile snapshots and rolling reruns with evident notes of levity, and compassion for a past self. On her new album Comeback Kid, produced by Dan Molad (Lucius, Buck Meek), there are reminders to cherish the moments that make up the collage of what we see in the mirror, but to also plant our feet firmly in the present, for those are the times that will come to form the future. The tracks hop through time, from the relentless, obsessive romanticization of the past, to unrestrained lust for a different future, all inherit the spirit of resilience needed for any move forward, whether it's to dive back in, walk away, or wrestle with the memory itself. In moments, our Comeback Kid wishes to encase a night in amber to revive it at will, like the old man in Jurassic Park, but ultimately is hip to the bittersweet truth that it will never be the same when you return. Kearney began making Comeback Kid back in 2021, in between her work with Lake Street Dive, and a new position as a songwriting teacher at Princeton University. During the process of Comeback Kid, Kearney took inspiration from her Princeton students, as well as her peers when she embarked on a song-a-day workshop. As she found herself surrounded by the thoughts and processes of others, she was able to pinpoint what it is about songwriting that she truly cherishes: namely, the textures and flourishes that come to form the mood of each creation. Comeback Kid is soaked in vintage synths, Kearney's soughing vocals and delicate-yet-driving percussion that ushers in a bright and serene tenor. "If you're driving, baby I wanna go," she soothes on opener "If You're Driving," welcoming us to the LP with windows down, eyes closed, air rushing through our fingers. It's a celebration of staying in the moment, of saying "yes," even though you know it won't last forever. With references to real psychological games, like Rorschach tests and the phenomenon of Ironic Process Theory, they help build the theme of the mind bending nature of obsession, memory, and perspective. Just like the acrobatic brain games we play in relationships, Kearney plays with language and references, with multiple meanings of "comebacks and coming back," and nods that run the gamut from Samuel Barber's mid-20th century masterpiece Adagio for Strings to Jerry Seinfeld's late-20th century masterpiece Seinfeld. The single "Security Camera" captures the carefree liminal space of reminiscence, as Kearney collects those significant, special moments of a past love. There is no animosity or even sorrow here but rather a warm, propulsive rush of gratitude and awe. "You have these really wonderful, blissful times in your life that are fleeting," she explains. "It's an attempt to keep loving the moments in your past, to carry them with you." These moments are carried with care throughout Comeback Kid, but with an eye on the farcicality of simply existing. Kearney is both sincere and silly, somber yet spirited, expertly gathering the iridescent spectrum of what it means to be alive.

“Great Doubt” is the third full length LP by Danish composer Astrid Sonne. Throughout her acclaimed discography, Astrid Sonne has been carefully crafting different moods through electronic and acoustic instrumental endeavours. On “Great Doubt” this skill is refined, now with the distinct addition of the composer's own vocal in front. The tone of each track is unmistakably Sonne’s, structured around contrasts through an impeccable sense of timing. Lyrics on the album are sparse, merely highlighting different scenes or emotional states of being, leaving the music to fill in the blanks. Yet they also form a pattern of ambiguity, consolidated through the album title, searching for answers through looking at how and what you are asking, questions for the world, questions of love. The viola, a trusted companion since Astrid Sonne’s youth, appears effortlessly throughout the album, fully integrated into the sonic universe; through a pizzicato driven arrangement in the poignant track “Almost” or along with booms and claps in mutated cinematic stabs during “Give my all”, paraphrasing Mariah Carey's 1997 ballad. Yet the string section also gives way to explorations of woodwinds, counterbalancing the bowed movements with digital brass and airy flutes. Finally, beats and detuned piano are fresh additions to the soundscape, cementing how Sonne’s practice is always evolving into new territories. In fall 2022, Astrid Sonne relocated from Copenhagen with its peers of artists such as ML Buch, Erika de Casier and Smerz, to live in London, where musicians of the South-East London scene like Coby Sey, Lolina, Still House Plants and Mica Levi provide a new inspirational framework. “Great Doubt” bears witness to both of those geographical locations, yet finds itself in its own unique space, in many ways due to the presence of Sonne's voice throughout. A voice that has always been present in her work, but never fully explored as a solo instrument before now. Astrid Sonne elaborates on the wish to work more in depth with the voice: “I come from a tradition of choir singing where I’ve used my voice as a way of creating unity with other voices. I’ve disciplined my voice in a certain way and this album is an exploration of me trying to find my own voice as an instrument, as a communicator, as a new way of being honest.” Questions take up a central role throughout the album. The doubt is both a blessing and a curse, always lying in-between, acting as both what holds back and drives forward. A metamorphosis not going anywhere. The great doubt takes place in a space of courage, chances, love, loss, gifts and surprises. Genre: Electronic / Experimental