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Mondo, in collaboration with Back Lot Music, is proud to present a vinyl pressing of James Newton Howard's Golden Globe Nominated score to Universal Pictures’ powerful new film from acclaimed filmmaker Paul Greengrass, News of The World.

Set five years after the end of the Civil War, News of the World follows Captain Jefferson Kyle Kidd (Tom Hanks), a veteran of three wars, who now moves from town to town as a non-fiction storyteller, sharing the news of presidents and queens, glorious feuds, devastating catastrophes, and gripping adventures from the far reaches of the globe.

In the plains of Texas, Kidd crosses paths with Cicada, aka Johanna Leonberger (Helena Zengel, System Crasher), a 10-year-old taken in by the Kiowa people six years earlier and raised as one of their own. Johanna, hostile to a world she’s never experienced, is being returned to her biological aunt and uncle against her will. Kidd reluctantly agrees to deliver the child to where the law says she belongs. As they travel hundreds of miles into the unforgiving wilderness, the two will face tremendous challenges of both human and natural forces as they search for a place that either can call home.

The film is a moving exploration of our present through the lens of our past, and the music by eight-time Academy Award® nominee James Newton Howard (The Hunger Games, The Sixth Sense, Signs, The Fugitive) is innovative, emotional, and beautiful, as it follows Captain Kidd’s journey from regret to redemption. A haunted, and healing sound of vintage Americana floods from your speakers as the tender strings and piano guide you over gorgeous landscapes.

What is the utility of pain? Can it do anything but fester? In Ferneaux explores pain in motion, building audio-spatial chambers of experience and memory. Using an archive of field recordings from a decade of global travels, isolation gave Blanck Mass an opportunity to make connections in a moment when being together is impossible. The record is divided into two long-form journeys that gather the memories of being with now-distant others through the composition of a nostalgic travelogue. The journeys are haunted with the vestiges of voices, places, and sensations. These scenes alternate with the building up and releasing of great aural tension, intensities that emerge from the trauma of a personal grieving process which has perhaps embraced its rage moment. An encounter with a prophetic figure on the streets of San Francisco presented the question of "how to handle the misery on the way to the blessing." This is the quandary of the impasse we now all find ourselves in, trapped in our little caves, grappling with the unease of the self at rest - without movement, without the consumerist agenda of "new experiences." The possibility of growth, always defined by our connections with others, held in limbo. Sartre said that "Hell is other people," but perhaps this is the Inferno of the present: the space of sitting with the self. A blessing is often thought of as a future reward, above and beyond the material plane. With In Ferneaux, Blanck Mass wrangles the immanent materials of the here-and-now to build a sense of transcendence. Here, the uncanny angelic hymn sits comfortably beside the dirge. The misery and blessing are one.

I’ve known Alex Bleeker my entire life. Well, okay, maybe not since I was born, but there’s no doubt that I’ve shared a fair bit of memories with him over the years. We’ve acted in high school productions of Shakespeare together, gone on late-night diner runs, argued about which Weezer album is the band’s best, and swapped mutual appreciation for the music of Yo La Tengo on car rides careening around the snaky suburbia of our hometown. Just like his Real Estate bandmates Martin Courtney and Julian Lynch, we attended high school in the New Jersey enclave of Ridgewood, a place where sticky summer days yielded cool nights with a glow so nocturnal that you can practically hear the fireflies buzzing off of this sentence alone.

Indie rock—a type of music that can easily be made or listened to in someone’s garage—often dominates teenage suburban preoccupations, and both Alex and I were no exception. You can hear this legacy of listening on his new album Heaven on the Faultline, which departs from his last full-band outing as Alex Bleeker and the Freaks, 2015’s Country Agenda. Whereas that album had a more full-bodied explicitly folk-y feel, Heaven on the Faultline finds Bleeker getting back to his homespun roots over the course of its 13 songs, from the jangly guitar pop of New Jersey heroes the Feelies and YLT’s hushed, acoustic reveries to the open-hearted folk rock that marks so much of the Grateful Dead’s early catalog.

Written and recorded over the last several years, Heaven on the Faultline’s songs were initially recorded straight to GarageBand in Bleeker’s bedroom before receiving further studio refinement in co-producer Phil Hartunian’s Tropico Beauty space in Los Angeles. With contributions from Confusing Mix of Nations’ Josh Da Costa, Cameron Stallones of Sun Araw, singer-songwriter Kacey Johansing, and Parting Lines’ Tim Ramsey, Heaven on the Faultline achieves a warm and intimate feel that defines Bleeker’s mission for the album: “I wanted to capture the moment in which I fell in love with making music to begin with. This is music for myself—me getting back to music for music’s sake.”

The unsteady times we live in certainly creep into view on Heaven on the Faultline. The deceptively easygoing “D Plus” was written on the day of President Donald Trump’s inauguration with the cursed event in mind, while the anxiety of climate change hovers just above the lovely guitar loops of “Felty Feel.” “The album is very much about dealing with the anxiety of a sense of impending doom,” Bleeker states while discussing the album’s portentous vibes. “When is the hammer going to fall? How do we go forward in the face of such anxiety and experience the complexity of life?”

Tough questions with few answers, but try not to stress too much. It’s possible to experience such existential doubt while also enjoying the simple pleasures that life has to offer, and that ethos is square at the heart of Heaven on the Faultline. It defines who Alex Bleeker is, too, and is one of many reasons why I’m proud to have known this special person and artist for so long.

Larry Fitzmaurice

A guitarry hybrid of AZITA’s edgy rock / soul / R&B sound. Grooving good times, acerbic exchanges overheard in the street, shifts in community, the losses you will carry always, dark recesses late at night that echo with a wonder you've never felt before. Life.
All instruments played by AZITA; the wackest, most AZITA-harmonious sounding pop album yet.
For those who find the passage of time a one-way process of attrition, here’s good news for you. In the eight years since AZITA’s last long-player her fevered brain has barely rested and the proof is a new album of unbounded physical and mental activity, music and entertainment, entitled ‘Glen Echo’.
The worlds of the previous AZITAs have left their unmistakable essence. Her singular conception of pop music - the idiosyncratic songs, singing and playing that have graced seven acclaimed releases - is in verdant recurrence on ‘Glen Echo’, blossoming anew, cutting sharply in the spirit and image of her everevolving, always questioning style.
Writing and arranging on keyboards since the time of her solo debut, AZITA focused on guitars for this set of songs. Not simply for swagger or a fresh approach to soloing but as part of a way to elide expected singer-songwriter tropes, to democratically populate the sound-stage in equal partnership instead.
This is a key aspect of the ‘Glen Echo’ sound, one that determined another new choice - AZITA playing everything on the album herself.
Previous long-players ‘Enantiodromia’, ‘Life On the Fly’ and ‘How Will You?’ were achieved via close work with players and engineers who took the compositions from the demo to a finished form. Invariably though, something would get lost in the transmigration somewhere. With ‘Glen Echo’, AZITA comes through fully, jaggedly, most vividly, owning her intention entirely in the dialogue of singing and playing her rock and rhythm and blues.
The lyric sheet is riddled with language that circles, through the many moments of life, aspects of the passage of time, the pre-empted dreams and strangeness of the present and the way we invent an idealized past in response to the changes, guiding the narrative... where? It’s all banded together by AZITA’s wit, equal parts droll and dire, her dispassionate view of fates and outcomes for all of us here together on the planet, textured with unique, cinematic details and sudden dives into a deeply felt, utterly OG sense of soul.
In ‘Glen Echo’ are a multitude of sounds - all the moments in a life: the good time grooves, acerbic exchanges in the street, shifts in community and generosity, moments of loss you know you will carry forever, reflection upon unknown futures and pasts, the dark recesses late at night that echo with a wonder you’ve never felt before. You name it, AZITA’s got some sweet and sour theme music for it.

‘PEACEMEAL’ is yet another reinvention for Ron
Gallo - a human being on a lifelong chase of
himself and using music as the main vehicle.
On his third LP, he exits the noisy confines of the
garage and goes outside where there’s no limit to
embracing all aspects of himself.
The result is a colourful hodgepodge of 90’s hiphop, r&b, weirdo pop, jazz and punk. The sounds
change but the sense of humanity, humour and a
truly eccentric worldview is the common thread in
all of Gallo’s music.
Mostly written and recorded during a period of
self-isolation in summer 2019, it’s an uncanny
foreshadowing of the global situation that was to
come and give all the songs a new meaning. This
is feel-good music that attempts to confront and
understand human existence.
Ron Gallo just wants to be himself, destroy
expectations and encourage you to do the same in
a world that does just about everything to try and
box us in - not to mention, this is his best most
fun one yet.

Clive Phillips, Dominic Goodman, Peter Blundell are Mosquitoes, a somewhat inscrutable London-based outfit in operation for something close to seven years now, and have released music across a host of celebrated and broad-minded underground labels. Give or take the occasional interview in the less-straight parts of the music press, this is as much formal biography as their music has thus far allowed, for there's something essentially unknowable at the centre of what makes Mosquitoes what they are. So murky is their early history in fact, the first two self-released Mosquitoes records seemed to disappear from sight before really becoming visible. As more records have emerged, those first communications accumulate new meanings, acting as vital documents in tracking the evolution of a band who stand at the vanguard of contemporary British music.

The second of these records, recorded to tape in summer 2016 and first released as a single-sided 12" under the name MOS-002, is arguably the first true iteration of Mosquitoes. Now fittingly renamed Mosquitoes for its reissue as a dubplate-style 10" on World of Echo on 5th March, these five cryptically titled, shape-shifting tracks, see the trio embrace a near-genre-less fluidity, and in doing so express a unique combination of both freedom and intent. By design or instinct, Mosquitoes stand at their own inverted rock nexus, presenting a music that's turned inside out, and in doing so, music that twists the listener the same way.

In that sense, Mosquitoes plug into a long lineage of DIY savant iconoclasts, those outliers who would deny orthodoxy in order to excavate new languages and ideas - The Dead C, This Heat, the anti-formalism of No Wave, David Toop's General Strike. As such, Mosquitoes rely on a musical pluralism in order to take it apart - you must know how something is made before you reassemble it anew. Labelling this an EP may possibly underplay the breadth and ambition of what's on show. Later records would arguably be more cohesive, but what stands as particularly startling with this early work is their fearless and all-encompassing dive into the avant garde. Consider the anti-rockism of the scorched earth 90s re-imagined through a distinctly avant filter of free jazz and dub aesthetics. And it's the latter which perhaps shapes Mosquitoes most, dub the perfect vehicle for the articulation of such wilful anti-formalism. Make no mistake, this is music that's unafraid to be tough, to demand something of the listener and to not ask permission. And to bear witness to a rejection of formalism so aggressively pursued is to be reconciled.

pink vinyl limited to 500
Insides’s music shimmers and tingles with the tantalising promise of a different direction that UK pop could’ve gone: future-facing and fresh, rather than nostalgic regurgitation.” Simon Reynolds, author and music critic, writing in  Euphoria re-issue liner-notes in 2019

“A sound still as dew fresh, dawn dazzled and shot through with luscious darkness as it was nigh on three decades ago.” Neil Kulkarni, The Wire, 2019

Insides are Julian Tardo and Kirsty Yates. They first recorded together in the early 90s as Earwig, and released an album, 'Under My Skin I am Laughing', which brought them to the attention of 4AD. Earwig morphed into Insides and  two further albums were released on 4AD’s Guernica imprint: ‘Euphoria' (1993) and 'Clear Skin' (1994). In 2019 ‘Euphoria' was reissued for US Record Store Day by Beacon Sound, and was hailed as a lost treasure by discerning outlets. 

'Soft Bonds' is Insides’ first release for 20 years. It’s the sound of heart-stopping slow motion, blood rushes, fingers digging into bruised flesh, and sleeping with clenched fists.

“We found some things that were recorded a long time ago. We added some things that have been haunting us for for years and recorded some other ideas that we’d just thought of. Recording started at home in 2012, and continued every now and then in our studio, on trains, in the Greek island of Naxos and while wandering around Cissbury Ring, Chanctonbury Ring and Devil’s Dyke in the South Downs. We finally walked away from the recordings in late 2019 and decided to release a small run of CDs and LPs on our own Further Distractions label.

'Soft Bonds' is about the past haunting the present, and gripping onto your crumbling sense of self. It’s informed by the spirit of This Heat/This Is Not This Heat, Patty Waters, Annette Peacock, Eartheater, Mhysa, Hailu Mergia, Scott Walker and Arca.”

The first track to be released, 'Ghost Music', was also the first to be finished and came about by scrapping the original structure, leaving only the trace elements. Working in the negative space that’s left behind, where rhythms are pulses and heartbeats and melodies are memories, it’s insistent, staring, but not shouting. Almost absent, or heard from another room. The video uses footage of Kirsty and Julian filmed and used in live shows in 1993 and cut with more recent footage from 2016. The past haunts the present.

“Pop loving the sound of itself to death. And hating the fact that it can’t stop loving.” Rob Young, The Wire, 1993

“...they seemed to be creating an entirely new version of pop. Their hooks were unmistakable, in that they triggered movement like perpetual-motion clockwork. Their grooves were sparse and spectral and nagged at you like breakbeats but made your heart and hair-follicles dance more than your feet. Their music was amniotic, ebbing and alive with iridescent melodic detail and lyrics that turned the turmoils and trauma of love into the sweetest searing honesty you’d been privy to since you first heard the Supremes.” Neil Kulkarni, The Quietus, 2011

‘No Limits’ is a record that has been causing waves since 2019 when it was originally released on Gladys Pizarro’s Launch Entertainment imprint.

Born out of an inspired studio session in 2018 between Danism, Train and DJ Rae, the song immediately felt special, evoking memories of the heyday of the soulful NYC sound. The production and, in particular, the sublime vocal delivery from DJ Rae made it stand out and the NYC-based Launch Entertainment seemed the perfect home for it. The record was a hit on the soulful house scene with heavy support from Louie Vega, Todd Terry, Francois K, Terry Hunter, CJ Mackintosh, Mr V, Sandy Rivera, DJ Spen, Brutha Basil, Sy Sez, Richard Earnshaw and loads more.

Fast forward to 2021 – and in partnership with SoSure Music - ‘No Limits’ is set for release on vinyl with the unquestionable expertise of Danny Krivit laying down a signature re-edit of this soulful house gem. Looping up DJ Rae’s vocals to expert effect at the beginning of his edit, Krivit amps up the anticipation for that sensuous, soulful house drop as twinkling keys reverberate from ear to ear. This is emotive house at it’s very best. The full length and original Vocal Mix graces the B-side.

With this release Danism, Train and DJ Rae also launch their DTR project alias. With the continued success of ‘No Limits’ plus brand new material set to follow throughout the year on Launch Entertainment it makes sense to cement their initial collaboration into something more solid. Danism, Train, DJ Rae combine as the DTR Project with Danny Krivit on remixes duties. A delightful combination to kickstart 2021.

We are starting 2021 with this incredibly beautiful and critically acclaimed track by Deborah Jordan, from her latest album ‘See In The Dark’ and this outstanding rework and extended edit by the songs original producer Marc Rapson. The extended edit is an exquisite journey through the original into an instrumental with stunning piano flourishes, magical strings and soaring vocals, continuing the journey of this unique and timeless track, which has been described as Deborah’s Magnum Opus. Rapson’s new Rework evokes memories of our most endeared hip-hop beat makers (Dilla, Q-Tip, Pete Rock) and takes us deep with masterful piano textures, resampled voices and the warmest bass you would have heard in years.The bonus track ‘Senses’, a standout from Deborah’s album, has also received the Rapson touch with a perfect hip-hop swing and ridiculous bass line which is exclusive to this vinyl release.

With his new album, Year Of The Living Dead, Vienna-born and LA-based producer John Tejada finds a blissful extended moment of balance between the new and the familiar. Anyone who’s followed his career to date, which has included four previous albums for Kompakt, outings for storied labels like Plug Research, Playhouse and Cocoon, and numerous remixes and collaborations – most recently, his Wajatta duo with actor and musician Reggie Watts – will immediately sense the warmth and eloquence that Tejada brings to his gilded, pliant techno and electro hybrids. But there’s more here, too; an explorer’s glimmer in the producer’s eye, as he gets to grips with new ways of working and being, while offering a reflective opening for the listener, something echoed in artwork by graphic designer and ‘contemplative artist’ David Grey.

“The album was started using tools I was unfamiliar with, which became an interesting exploratory process,” Tejada says. “Staying away from the obvious and having to re-learn simple things was a fun challenge.” You can hear these new creative pulsions pushing the eight tracks on Year Of The Living Dead ever-forward; the album has an unique cast, and though there are trace elements of the genres Tejada has indulged previously, he’s never quite put them together this way before. There’s the dubwise glitter sprinkled across the moody opener “The Haunting Of Earth”, the kind caresses found amongst the deftly woven textures of “Sheltered”, and the churchy melancholy, all hymnal and golden, of “Echoes Of Life”.

Year Of The Living Dead also speaks obliquely to its moment, though Tejada works this implicitly, allowing the strange circumstances of 2020 to cast their inevitable shadow without being obvious or didactic. “The production process began right before lockdown and continued through what felt like a very serious time for all of us,” he recalls. “Not being able to see or touch our loved ones made me feel we are all like ghosts. We can observe from a distance but cannot really be there. We are isolated and alone.” And yet, Year Of The Living Dead’s tenderness offers an out for that anxiety and loneliness, its intimate immensities gifting the album a redemptive and compassionate core. Compact and glistening, Year Of The Living Dead sculpts unassuming beauty.

Mit seinem neuen Album “Year Of The Living Dead“ findet der in Wien geborene und in Los Angeles lebende Produzent John Tejada die richtige Balance zwischen Neuem und Vertrautem. Wer seine bisherige Karriere verfolgt hat, seine vier Alben für Kompakt, Beiträge für Labels wie Plug Research, Playhouse und Cocoon, zahlreiche Remixe und Kollaborationen wie zuletzt das Projekt Wajatta zusammen mit dem Schauspieler und Musiker Reggie Watts, spürt sofort wieder die Wärme und Eloquenz, die Tejada in seine geschmeidigen Techno-Elektro-Hybride einbringt. Doch es geht auch noch einen Schritt weiter. Da ist dieses Aufblitzen des Entdeckers im Auge eines Produzenten, der sich mit neuen Arbeits- und Seinsweisen auseinandersetzt und dem Zuhörer gleichzeitig etwas sehr Offenes und Nachdenkliches anbietet, etwas, das im Artwork des Grafikdesigners und "kontemplativen Künstlers" David Grey nachklingt.

"Ich hatte angefangen, das Album mit mir noch unbekannten Tools zu produzieren, was sich zu einem interessanten Forschungsprozess für mich entwickelte", sagt Tejada. "Sich vom allzu Offensichtlichen zu trennen und einfache mal Dinge neu lernen zu müssen, war eine recht spaßige Herausforderung.“ Man kann diese neuen kreativen Impulse hören, die “Year Of The Living Dead“ auf einer Länge von 8 Tracks nach vorne treiben; das Album hat einen einzigartigen Ansatz, denn obwohl es Elemente der Genres gibt, denen Tejada zuvor gefrönt hat, hatte er sie doch noch nie zuvor so zusammengefügt wie hier. Da ist dieses dubbige Glitzern im atmosphärischen Opener "The Haunting Of Earth", die freundlichen Zärtlichkeiten, die man in den Texturen von "Sheltered" findet, und schließlich die heilige Melancholie im hymnischen "Echoes Of Life".

Auch “Year Of The Living Dead“ enthält Andeutungen auf die momentane Situation und erlaubt es, den seltsamen Umständen des Jahres 2020, ihren unvermeidlichen Schatten zu werfen, ohne dabei zu offensichtlich oder gar belehrend zu sein. "Der Produktionsprozess begann kurz vor dem (ersten) Lockdown und setzte sich in einer Zeit fort, die sich für uns alle als eine sehr ernste Zeit anfühlte", erinnert er sich. "Da wir nicht in der Lage waren, unsere Lieben zu sehen oder zu berühren, hatte ich das Gefühl, dass wir alle wie Geister sind. Wir können nur distanzierte Beobachter sein, aber wir können nicht wirklich anwesend sein. Wir sind isoliert und allein." Und doch scheint die Zärtlichkeit von "Year Of The Living Dead" einen Ausweg aus dieser Angst und Einsamkeit anzubieten, die grenzenlose Intimität des Albums enthält einen erlösenden und mitfühlenden Kern. Derart konsistent und schillernd formt "Year Of The Living Dead" eine unprätentiöse Schönheit.

Mats Gustafsson - Flute, baritone sax, live electronics, Johan Berthling - Electric bass, Andreas Werliin - Drums with Goran Kajfes - Quartertone trumpet, Mats Aleklint - Trombone, sousaphone, horn arrangements. Fire! tracking new paths and reaching new levels of excellence, still honoring their 12 year old vow of presenting a fresh approach to improvised music. Their debut album, You Liked Me Five Minutes Ago, was released in 2009 to wide international acclaim. "The basic strategy of pairing the expressive energy of free jazz with a sturdy sense of groove has yielded something potent and self-contained" (New York Times). Between this and Defeat there's been five albums, including collaborations with Jim O'Rourke (Unreleased?, 2011) and Oren Ambarchi (In The Mouth A Hand, 2012). No two Fire! records sound the same, but with Defeat they have taken their biggest leap so far, with Gustafsson giving the flute a prominent place in the sound image, a surprising and most successful move, his both expressive and ornamental approach given ample room to breathe, especially on the two long tracks bookending the album. In places more subdued than on previous efforts, but with the distinctive bass figures and hypnotic mood fully intact. There are some lively stretches with guests Goran Kajfes and Mats Aleklint, bringing to mind their big band offshoot Fire! Orchestra, albeit on a smaller scale. For over 20 years we have made a habit of releasing music that is beyond easy classification, in later years typified by Hedvig Mollestad, Elephant9 and Krokofant, but cemented by Fire! and their exploratory curiosity and deep love of music in general. We, and many others, have tried to compare the trio to other groups, but listening to Defeat we realize how futile this is. Given the above there's no doubt there are many influences at play, but the resulting brew is in a class by itself.

Today, The Wytches announce their third album Three Mile Ditch. The album features the recently released single “Cowboy” which marked their return after four years away and to celebrate the announcement they share new single “A Love You’ll Never Know”. The track is accompanied by a music video by Mark Breed and he explains,

“The music video format was a long process. Making the set was incredibly fun with Kristian crafting most of the miniatures.I then had to film the green screen band performance within the set before recording the edited version onto my VHS camera. Finally I shot the finished edit inside the view finder.”

The album recorded with Luke Oldfield at Tile House Studios will be released on their own label Cable Code Records on Friday 2nd October.

“This is the first thing that I've ever been proud of for longer than a week,” says The Wytches frontman Kristian Bell of the band’s latest album Three Mile Ditch. This sense of vigour and enthusiasm coming from Bell about the band’s third album is matched by its contents. The album is an explosive collection of 10 tracks that weaves seamlessly between gut-wobbling monster riffs, swampy rock, slick surf, and finely tuned songcraft. It’s also the result of a band coming back from the brink of collapse.

The band’s early trajectory was a steep and speedy one as they quickly established themselves as one of the country’s most exciting and pulverising new bands. Major festival slots stacked up at places such as Glastonbury, SXSW, Reading and Leeds, and British Summertime with the Strokes. As did the tours across the US with METZ, traversing Europe with Fat White Family and Death Grips. They garnered support from BBC 6 Music, DIY, MOJO, NME and more. However, when the ascent to the stratosphere is moving at such a speed, there’s a risk of burning out and imploding, and the band came close to this.

They were on the rocks for a while, unsure of themselves and if the band should - or even could - go on. “I had it in my head that this kind of thing only really happens once and to try it again might be a big waste of time,” Bell reflects. However, despite the difficulties, the powerful pull of the band was too great to ignore.

“We had an album’s worth of songs that was some of our best material. The mission became to complete a Wytches album rather than get The Wytches back on the touring circuit. This album helped us make the decision to try it again.”

-LTD. MAGENTA VINYL-

What is the utility of pain? Can it do anything but fester? In Ferneaux explores pain in motion, building audio-spatial chambers of experience and memory. Using an archive of field recordings from a decade of global travels, isolation gave Blanck Mass an opportunity to make connections in a moment when being together is impossible. The record is divided into two long-form journeys that gather the memories of being with now-distant others through the composition of a nostalgic travelogue. The journeys are haunted with the vestiges of voices, places, and sensations. These scenes alternate with the building up and releasing of great aural tension, intensities that emerge from the trauma of a personal grieving process which has perhaps embraced its rage moment. An encounter with a prophetic figure on the streets of San Francisco presented the question of "how to handle the misery on the way to the blessing." This is the quandary of the impasse we now all find ourselves in, trapped in our little caves, grappling with the unease of the self at rest - without movement, without the consumerist agenda of "new experiences." The possibility of growth, always defined by our connections with others, held in limbo. Sartre said that "Hell is other people," but perhaps this is the Inferno of the present: the space of sitting with the self. A blessing is often thought of as a future reward, above and beyond the material plane. With In Ferneaux, Blanck Mass wrangles the immanent materials of the here-and-now to build a sense of transcendence. Here, the uncanny angelic hymn sits comfortably beside the dirge. The misery and blessing are one.

"Do you feel what I feel too?" Brijean Murphy floats the question at the start of Feelings, the full-length Ghostly International debut from Brijean, her collaborative project with Doug Stuart. Guided by a lush mix of charismatic keyboard chords, grooving bass lines, and radiant bongo-driven rhythms, the "Day Dreaming" lyric doubles as an invitation and a statement of intention. Brijean want you to move, physically, mentally, dimensionally; this is dance music for the mind, body, and soul. With Feelings, they've manifested a gentle collective space for respite, for self-reflection, for self-care, for uninhibited imagination and new possibilities. The album cultivates a specific vibe, a softness Murphy has come to call "romancing the psyche." Growing up in a family immersed in jazz, Latin and soul music, Murphy would become an accomplished DJ, session and live player in Oakland's diverse music scene and one of indie's most in-demand percussionists (Poolside, Toro Y Moi, U.S. Girls). In 2018, she began recording songs with multi-instrumentalist and producer Doug Stuart, who shares a background in jazz and pop in bands such as Bells Atlas, Meernaa, and Luke Temple. Following their first sessions, which resulted in the mini-album Walkie Talkie (released in 2019 on Native Cat Recordings), the duo continued freeform hangs in Oakland, inviting friends Chaz Bear, Tony Peppers, and Hamir Atwal. "We improvised on different feels for hours," says Murphy. "Nothing quite developed at first but we had seeds. We re-opened the sessions a couple months later, after returning from tours, and spent a month developing the songs in a little 400 square foot cottage." Aforementioned album opener "Day Dreaming" is a dynamic celebration of newness: the excitement in finding deeper understandings of yourself as you get to know someone, something, or somewhere new. "Wifi Beach" drops a pin in pure psych-pop exotica. With Atwal on drums, Stuart on bass, Peppers on keys, and Bear engineering, the group improvised the track's intro sequence based on the vision of a lavish 1970s pool party. Establishing the scene is a mid-frequency drum kit disco shuffle augmented by tight congas and timbale effect, as Murphy sings in spurts: "I want to be / Deep in love / I want to be / Say you love me too / I want to be / Honey." The stanzas cut between "reflective moments of wants and being overwhelmed by feelings of the present," she explains. "A lot of the `love songs' I write are to my psyche, self-reflections on how to encourage tender perspectives and make more time for the sweet stuff." Though there is a loose, dance-oriented motif throughout, the material gives way to somnolent turns. On "Ocean," Brijean's anodyne lyrics, reminiscent of Astrud Gilberto's airy croon, float atop a brushed drum pattern, sparkling rhodes lines, and pittering and softly funky woodblock bops. The opening line sets up the rest, "In this gentle space we lay" _ among the album's propensity for movement, tracks like "Ocean" stand out by leaning back for momentary sways of blissful introspection. Murphy calls the charming "Hey Boy" a "psychedelic guide _ the exploration of finding what feels good _ through sorrow, anxiety, apathy." This mentality applies to Feelings on the whole: in these nebulous and verdant worlds of hazy melodies, feathery hooks, and percussive details, the songs simply want us to feel alive. They radiate in wonderful abandon and with a sense of devotion to the self. RIYL: Stereolab, Astrud Gilberto, Air, Little Dragon, Broadcast, Khruangbin, Poolside.

LTD. BLUE & PINK SWIRL VINYL

"Do you feel what I feel too?" Brijean Murphy floats the question at the start of Feelings, the full-length Ghostly International debut from Brijean, her collaborative project with Doug Stuart. Guided by a lush mix of charismatic keyboard chords, grooving bass lines, and radiant bongo-driven rhythms, the "Day Dreaming" lyric doubles as an invitation and a statement of intention. Brijean want you to move, physically, mentally, dimensionally; this is dance music for the mind, body, and soul. With Feelings, they've manifested a gentle collective space for respite, for self-reflection, for self-care, for uninhibited imagination and new possibilities. The album cultivates a specific vibe, a softness Murphy has come to call "romancing the psyche." Growing up in a family immersed in jazz, Latin and soul music, Murphy would become an accomplished DJ, session and live player in Oakland's diverse music scene and one of indie's most in-demand percussionists (Poolside, Toro Y Moi, U.S. Girls). In 2018, she began recording songs with multi-instrumentalist and producer Doug Stuart, who shares a background in jazz and pop in bands such as Bells Atlas, Meernaa, and Luke Temple. Following their first sessions, which resulted in the mini-album Walkie Talkie (released in 2019 on Native Cat Recordings), the duo continued freeform hangs in Oakland, inviting friends Chaz Bear, Tony Peppers, and Hamir Atwal. "We improvised on different feels for hours," says Murphy. "Nothing quite developed at first but we had seeds. We re-opened the sessions a couple months later, after returning from tours, and spent a month developing the songs in a little 400 square foot cottage." Aforementioned album opener "Day Dreaming" is a dynamic celebration of newness: the excitement in finding deeper understandings of yourself as you get to know someone, something, or somewhere new. "Wifi Beach" drops a pin in pure psych-pop exotica. With Atwal on drums, Stuart on bass, Peppers on keys, and Bear engineering, the group improvised the track's intro sequence based on the vision of a lavish 1970s pool party. Establishing the scene is a mid-frequency drum kit disco shuffle augmented by tight congas and timbale effect, as Murphy sings in spurts: "I want to be / Deep in love / I want to be / Say you love me too / I want to be / Honey." The stanzas cut between "reflective moments of wants and being overwhelmed by feelings of the present," she explains. "A lot of the `love songs' I write are to my psyche, self-reflections on how to encourage tender perspectives and make more time for the sweet stuff." Though there is a loose, dance-oriented motif throughout, the material gives way to somnolent turns. On "Ocean," Brijean's anodyne lyrics, reminiscent of Astrud Gilberto's airy croon, float atop a brushed drum pattern, sparkling rhodes lines, and pittering and softly funky woodblock bops. The opening line sets up the rest, "In this gentle space we lay" _ among the album's propensity for movement, tracks like "Ocean" stand out by leaning back for momentary sways of blissful introspection. Murphy calls the charming "Hey Boy" a "psychedelic guide _ the exploration of finding what feels good _ through sorrow, anxiety, apathy." This mentality applies to Feelings on the whole: in these nebulous and verdant worlds of hazy melodies, feathery hooks, and percussive details, the songs simply want us to feel alive. They radiate in wonderful abandon and with a sense of devotion to the self. RIYL: Stereolab, Astrud Gilberto, Air, Little Dragon, Broadcast, Khruangbin, Poolside.

Hot on the heels of solo concerts to commemorate the 20th birthday of her debut album Mud Stories, An Pierle returns with a brand new Quartet album that proves that looking back was no retro exercise. Together with life/musical partner Koen Gisen and jazz youngsters Hendrik Lasure & Casper Van De Velde (schntzl, warm bad, Bombataz,...) she now presents Wiga Waga, an adventurous new album that juggles playfulness and experimentalism.

The songs sound familiar and bear the Pierle mark, even though they uncover hereto unexplored territory. Inspired by a newly-found enthusiasm and inquisitive spirit, the musicians came up with a batch of songs that revisit familiar themes and atmospheres, but dress them up with an invigorating eclecticism. Working as a real 'band', the quartet sets out for a new, collective identity. It is not jazz in the classic sense, but it contains the imagination, freedom and constant renewal of the genre, and it works like a charm.

Wild Pink’s last album, 2018’s Yolk In The Fur, concluded with a song about the strange sense of relief that comes with “letting go of youth.” Frontman John Ross, then in his early thirties, was singing from a place of newfound comfort and wisdom, but it ended with a repetition of the line, “I don’t know what happens next.” The song, titled “All Some Frenchman’s Joke”, is a beautifully concise rendering of a universal milestone: leveling up from the wide-eyed naivety and self-destructive routines of our youth, only to realize that we’re as unprepared for the future as we were for the past. On Wild Pink’s third album and first for Royal Mountain Records, A Billion Little Lights, Ross explores that dichotomy of finally achieving emotional security—of accepting the love and peace he deprived himself of in his twenties—while also feeling existentially smaller and more directionless than ever before. The record is a two-pronged triumph: an extraordinary reflection on the human condition presented through the sharpest, grandest, and most captivating songs Wild Pink have ever composed. The band, which is rounded out by bassist T.C. Brownell and drummer Dan Keegan, formed in New York City in 2015 and put out a handful of EP’s before releasing their critically acclaimed self-titled debut in 2017. It was a sophisticated showing for a band’s first album, but it was the striking maturation of Yolk In The Fur that established Wild Pink’s unique sound: a glistening variety of pastoral indie-rock akin to The War On Drugs, Death Cab For Cutie, and Kurt Vile, but informed by classic American rock poets like Bruce Springsteen and Tom Petty.

Angel Tears in Sunlight is Pauline Anna Strom's first album in over thirty years; an assemblage of music that refracts the expansiveness, and minutiae, of imagined realms while embracing the kaleidoscopic echoes of our distant epochs. The capacity to collapse time might elucidate the enigma of Pauline Anna Strom. A mystic force in music, emerging during the dawn of new age as the Trans-Millenia Consort, the pioneering synthesist channelled primordial energies into future-facing sound through a series of full-length releases between 1982 and 1988. Little was known about her, except by a constellation of devoted followers who saw a unique legacy forming amidst the (mostly male) synthesist canon of the time. Following the 2017 release of Trans-Millenia Music, an anthology revitalizing the most evocative parts of Strom's catalog, the Bay Area visionary sensed the universe telling her to return to music. As with her work in the 80s, Angel Tears in Sunlight was composed and recorded in the same San Francisco apartment where Strom has lived for almost four decades in synthesis with her machines and "dinosaurs." Populated by a compact array of modern instruments that streamline the sound of her analog past and her beloved iguanas, Little Soulstice and Ms Huff, the terrarium of her home forms an intimate yet limitless ecosystem that defies the constraints of the outside world. Within this sanctuary, Strom becomes lost in time, drawing on the ancient energies of her inner visions. Her hardware forms the crux of translating these ideas into sound. "It's the only way this stuff can be pulled out of myself, the universe, Little Soulstice, an ammonite_," Strom notes. "It couldn't be done without this machinery, because there's no other way to draw and capture these frequencies into sonic interpretation." Strom's process of recording transient live-takes enriches the mystery of her work. She renders the machinery a composer itself, a cohabitation with a living other. "Many musicians wouldn't go that far because of ego," Strom muses. "The equipment has to become part of you and your creativity. That's how I think it all comes together." Music-making becomes a harmonic language of intuition with an instrument, where Strom cultivates sound for a harvest that defies season. Shaped by circadian contours, Angel Tears in Sunlight is a celestial observatory of earthborn phonic mosaics. Strom uncovers a symbiosis between hardware frequencies and apparitions of nature in the record's arena of organic tones, emulating the melodic pulses of primeval terrain. The album transcends both shadow and light, falling to hushed stretches of sound as if not to awaken antediluvian animals, before soaring through the treetops where ancient skies peer over reptilian traffic and unsparing rains.

From label owner Terry Cole, "It was on March 16, 2020 that we closed up our storefront as the reality of a worldwide pandemic began to spread across the Midwest. We had no idea how it was going to impact our shop, our label, or the artists we represent. We were all fortunate to have our family members stay safe and healthy; however, the livelihood of many of our friends and artists were drastically and immediately impacted. No tours, no live performances, record shops closed, pressing plants shut down, etc. And while the level of uncertainty was unnerving, from that uncertainty came the idea for Brighter Days Ahead. We knew we wanted to continue to release new music, but proceeding with our heavy 2020 release schedule as planned seemed ill advised. So the idea was to release individual tracks from many of our artists on a weekly basis and as a musical family, we could all help shine light on each individual artist weekly. Strength in numbers! So throughout the summer and into the fall, that's what we did. We released several dozen tracks and the weekly announcements certainly garnered a strong sense of community for our artists and fans alike. We're very proud to present Brighter Days Ahead: a compilation from our talented stable of artists on both our Colemine and Karma Chief imprints."

Born in Croydon, UK in 1960 and working in Switzerland for decades, Michal Turtle has led a storied career as a composer, arranger, technician and producer, consistently aligned with some
of the most exciting bands and projects within the realms of pop and experimental music. A figure as masterful in the realm of expansive ambient recordings as advertising jingles, it’s only in recent
years that Michal’s solo productions have gained acclaim and a cult following that continues to grow ever wider.
Turtle made a long-awaited return earlier in 2020 with the extended ‘On a Canvas Lived a Baby’, a one-sided twelve of new material released on Planisphere Editorial. Now, the Basel based label
invites a diverse and international cross-section of electronic musicians to reinterpret the artist’s back-catalogue, each delivering a thoughtful remix driven by the same sense of curiosity,
exploration and genre-blurring that Turtle himself helped pioneer. Each track on the remixes collection was originally recorded between 1980 and 1985, in between Turtle’s regular tours with established bands. Opening the collection, Laurel Halo adopts her LH alias for a textural and tripping revisit to ‘Phantoms of Dreamland’, transporting the haunting original to a hyper-detailed alternate dimension. Zoning back in, Neue Grafik finds typically eclectic form with ‘Men in Green’, turning the dials and blending ideas as if tuning between the emerging musical scenes that defined Turtle’s early-eighties life in Camden, London. In stark contrast, avant-garde polymath Felicia
Atkinson designs a ‘Fennel and Moon’ version, weaving between earthy field recordings and an aching piano line, conjuring an almost ritualistic atmosphere, far from the city. Radical musical turns continue to define the collection as son of Detroit, Jimmy Edgar takes
‘Rainwater Fijit’ down a dark, damp tunnel, expanding on the pitter patter of Turtle’s more outlandish studio experiments, blending vocal experiments with fresh funk. Colombian experimentalist Lucrecia Dalt pulls further bizarre shapes from a patchwork of samples, a heaving,
gasping industrial shuffle, before French producer D.K. returns a stronger rhythm, both building on Turtle’s lovingly naive tributes to the legacy of sample culture and his trusty ARP2600.

Ostgut Ton mainstay and Panorama Bar resident Nick Höppner proceeds to sensitively rewire ‘Maid Of The Mist’ into a blossoming, introspective celebration of melody and ambience, an
almost weightless experience that lends itself well as a breather before Luca Duran’s analogue, acid-tinged take on Spookie Boogie takes Turtle’s esoteric touches back into the direction of the
funk and italo records at the heart of his initial inspiration.
The Remixes final chapter continues to expand in distinct and wide-reaching sonic directions. London’s Object Blue seems to slow time itself across her sublime interpretation of ‘Ball Of Fire’.
Initially Turtle’s tribute to Howard Hawks 1941 film classic and the legacy of old Hollywood, worlds further collide into rolling, weightless bliss.

Fellow Swiss citizen Mehmet Aslan stirs an enchanting, percussive mystery that unfolds with great
pleasure on El Teb, while Parco Palaz conjures not one but two radically different remixes of ‘Are
You Psychic?’, demonstrating both their imaginative nous, as well as the depth of Turtle’s legacy.
Finally, an irresistible vocal contribution from Oso Leone adds even further colour and joy to ‘Maid
of The Mist’, sending off this ambitious collection on a transformative, dream-pop high.
With further details set to be revealed, there is an ongoing development focused around the
accompanying art and visuals. The Peruvian born and now Amsterdam based graphic designer
Jonathan Castro leads the art direction, along with visual artist Chris Harnan. Both artists look to
explore the intersection between sound, imagery and its reorientation, exhibited through the
musical contributors and visual translation.

“I am happy and honoured to have been the spark for this remarkable compilation.
The magnificent work done by this collection of very special people speaks for itself, so listen and
be transported. It has been half a lifetime since my original tracks were written, and I am gratified
to know that they are somehow still relevant enough to be reworked and reinvented.”