Cerca:new sense

`Gentle Confrontation', Loraine James's third Hyperdub album, opens a new chapter of her real and sonic life in which she examines her past and present. It's a positively languid, enjoyably disjointed set made while listening to her teenage favourites; math rock and emo-electronic such as DNTEL, Lusine and Telefon Tel Aviv. The album also features an ever more diverse set of peers, placing them in her unusual musical settings and drawing out sensitive and reflexive performances. At other times the album stretches out into a drifting ambience as if seeking a sense of bliss in the everyday. `Gentle Confrontation' is about relationships (especially familial), understanding, and giving back a little grace and care, while the tone of the record criss-crosses watery ambience with denatured rhythm and asmr beats. These 16 tracks are Loraine's best work yet, and a personal and musical leap forward, delivering a totally unique vision of electronic pop music.

Four years after they went all the way to Antarctica, Flat Worms are back in gen pop with the rest of us - but, as intoned on the album opener "Sigalert," "back again like I never was." Is this a nod to the way time passes over our sorely vexed synapses? Or are we to believe that there"s hope to be found in this broken world? Kick back with Witness Marks and see what other traces Flat Worms have left us in the dust. The album title alone leaves a foreboding impression. But look closer - "witness marks" aren"t something out of a forensic analysis - they"re actually practical; scratches placed in old clocks designed to aid continued maintenance further in time. Sure, there"s big questions and more on the board; primarily if we"re at all distinct from the absurdity coming down around us, or just another character in the mirror? Flat Worms are looking inward this time, outlining personal space in relation to themselves and others - sometimes even people they barely know. Among the slabs of slategrey outrage, the flowers of compassion are blooming, and the simmering power of their trio grows exponentially. Working once again with Ty Segall, Flat Worms continue to find new answers by digging into themselves and playing their kind of rock: hard and flat, bass and drums thrusting stalwartly forward with conviction, guitar twisting and spinning in outrage, deadpan vocals decrying a dire set of circumstances. The democracy of working together, so often messy and frustrating, was found to be a powerful release for Justin, Tim and Will. Acting as one, Flat Worms navigated challenging times by coming together, finding release in the clockwork repetitions of practice and the shared creative space they occupied together against the encroaching world. In the short century of their existence, Flat Worms have agitated against the status quo with a disquieting lyric bent, to emphasize the psychosis of the times. These are positions taken within songs, sung out to individuals in the world. As evidenced by the lyrics, "But I know I can always see you at the show Even though it"s only temporary and it"s time to go." . . .Witness Marks surveys an evolving sense of community. Flat Worms are dedicated to persevering and using the power of their collective. Come witness!

Four years after they went all the way to Antarctica, Flat Worms are back in gen pop with the rest of us - but, as intoned on the album opener "Sigalert," "back again like I never was." Is this a nod to the way time passes over our sorely vexed synapses? Or are we to believe that there"s hope to be found in this broken world? Kick back with Witness Marks and see what other traces Flat Worms have left us in the dust. The album title alone leaves a foreboding impression. But look closer - "witness marks" aren"t something out of a forensic analysis - they"re actually practical; scratches placed in old clocks designed to aid continued maintenance further in time. Sure, there"s big questions and more on the board; primarily if we"re at all distinct from the absurdity coming down around us, or just another character in the mirror? Flat Worms are looking inward this time, outlining personal space in relation to themselves and others - sometimes even people they barely know. Among the slabs of slategrey outrage, the flowers of compassion are blooming, and the simmering power of their trio grows exponentially. Working once again with Ty Segall, Flat Worms continue to find new answers by digging into themselves and playing their kind of rock: hard and flat, bass and drums thrusting stalwartly forward with conviction, guitar twisting and spinning in outrage, deadpan vocals decrying a dire set of circumstances. The democracy of working together, so often messy and frustrating, was found to be a powerful release for Justin, Tim and Will. Acting as one, Flat Worms navigated challenging times by coming together, finding release in the clockwork repetitions of practice and the shared creative space they occupied together against the encroaching world. In the short century of their existence, Flat Worms have agitated against the status quo with a disquieting lyric bent, to emphasize the psychosis of the times. These are positions taken within songs, sung out to individuals in the world. As evidenced by the lyrics, "But I know I can always see you at the show Even though it"s only temporary and it"s time to go." . . .Witness Marks surveys an evolving sense of community. Flat Worms are dedicated to persevering and using the power of their collective. Come witness!

On Rock Island, their second LP, Palm produces evidence of a distinct musical language, developed over time, in isolation, and out of necessity. On the island, melodies are struck on what might be shells or spines. Rhythms are scratched out, swept over, scratched again. Individual instruments, and sometimes entire sections, skip and stutter. There is the sense of a music box with wonky tension or a warped transmission in which all the noise is taken for signal.

Like other groups so acclaimed for their compulsive live show, Palm has been burdened by the constant comparison between their recorded material and their touring set. On Rock Island, they render this tired discussion moot, using the album form to present that which could never be completely live, reserving for performance that which could never be completely reproduced.

Despite appearing behind the instruments typical of rock music, Palm trades in sounds of their own making. On these songs, one of the guitars and the drum kit are used as MIDI triggers, producing an index that can be combed through later and replaced with new information. The percussion is sometimes augmented so as to suggest a multiplication of limbs. The strings are manipulated to choke, crack, and hum like other instruments, or other bodies, might.

Working again with engineer Matt Labozza, the band spent the better part of a month in a rented farmhouse in Upstate New York. With the benefits of time and space, Palm recorded the various elements piecemeal, only rarely playing together in groups larger than two or three. While some members tracked, others holed up in the next room, experimenting with quantization, beat replacement, and other methods borrowed from electronic music. Even accounting for the many labors that brought them to be, these materials seem produced by an organic logic. Their complex friction forms a habit of thought, scores a network of grooves on the floor of the mind.

This is music with dimensionality. Sonic objects are deployed, developed, and dissected in various states of mutation. The listener flits about between the field and the lab. The tone is warm in a way only the sun could make, the pace as forceful and as variable as a gale. Whether one locates Rock Island in a sea or in a refinished attic (as in Greg Burak's album cover), whether one escapes to there or is banished, its psychic environs are charted clearly enough. Only at this remove from the mainland can we sense the conditions necessary for such a strange species of sound.

Read any article or comment thread about the Seattle noise-rock outfit GREAT FALLS and you're likely to see descriptors like cathartic, heavy, crushing, and unhinged. Maybe even psychotic. And sure, those are all apt: For over a decade, vocalist/guitarist Demian Johnston and bassist Shane Mehling (who also played together in the early-2000s noisecore band PLAYING ENEMY and the experimental duo HEMINGWAY) have honed their sludgy, overwhelmingly intense brand of heaviness, punctuated by delectably discordant riffs, terrifyingly low, thwacking bass lines, and mesmerizingly tight percussion. In the live setting, too, they’re notorious for a stage presence that is so aggressively confrontational and menacing that Mehling once broke his own arm mid-set.

But the most striking aspect of GREAT FALLS, setting them apart from the murky sea of sludge metal and AmRep-inspired noise-rock bands, is their ability to paint a deeply, utterly human story through an all-out assault on the senses: an art the band has perfected on their fourth full-length album OBJECTS WITHOUT PAIN, out September 15 via NEUROT RECORDINGS.

The album is not only their NEUROT debut, but also the first LP featuring drummer Nickolis Parks (GAYTHEIST, BASTARD FEAST), who joined the band prior to the release of their exhilarating, cacophonous 2023 EP,FUNNY WHAT SURVIVES.

OBJECTS WITHOUT PAIN takes us on a bleak, purgative journey through a separation–a snapshot of the turmoil and indecision that occurs after the initial realization of someone's misery, and before the ultimate decision to end a decades-long partnership. From the foreboding intro riffs of “DRAGGED HOME ALIVE” to the end of the 13-minute closer “THROWN AGAINST THE WAVES,” its eight tracks explore the thoughts that come up when a person is staring down the barrel of blowing up their life: How did this happen? Is it too late for a new life? Will the kid be OK? What will make me happier: familiar torment or unknown freedom?

Adrian Borland and Graham Bailey might be better known as members of legendary post-punk group The Sound, but the two were childhood friends and had been playing together even earlier in The Outsiders, and continued their deep musical rapport as a duo, creating these intense and engaging songs as Second Layer at the same time as their higher profile band output. Following our release of Courts Or Wars, combining their early material, we are proud to reissue their only full length album, World Of Rubber.

Fueled by experimentation in both song construction and recording techniques, the duo leave you enveloped in what The Quietus described as, “a monochrome worldview morbidly obsessed with the dehumanizing effect of war, nuclear weapon annihilation, and the fracturing and negation of the self within an increasingly distorted and technologically mediated society.” Indeed, the goal had been to make each album a concept album, with this to be titled: Second Layer’s World Of Rubber. Alas, this was to be the first and last of those efforts. New detailed liner notes from Graham Bailey shed considerable light on the creation of this cold classic and its immediate aftermath.

Bailey’s inventive construction and deconstruction of various electronics, effects boxes and tape loops form the propulsive base for these songs. Borland’s guitar playing is jagged and unleashed. Above it all is an undeniable sense of melody and Adrian’s distinctive vocals. Soon, they would wonder where Second Layer ended and The Sound began, but World Of Rubber would stand as a document of this fertile period. It would also be a lasting testament to their desire to push the boundaries of their creativity. Dark and brooding the result is what Bandcamp described as “brutally bleak, blank-eyed post-punk that remains chillingly compelling.”

'Nothing left but silence' is Erik K Skodvin’s third solo album for Sonic Pieces and his most quiet to date. Subtitled as "Musical improvisations and quiet collages from the subconscious”, Skodvin reduces his instruments to guitar, reverb and amp - and creates a skeleton of eight hypnotic ragas that meanders in an eternal loop between ephemeral and singular.

Only on the horizon it’s possible to sense that Skodvin has also touched the neoclassical terrain in earlier productions - on Nothing left but silence, however, he acts as a twilight player who is not afraid of the coldness of endless space and who knows how to subjugate the shadowiness of the visible world. Carried by the noise of the amp and the occasional click of the effects pedals, a monolithic, reduced blues emerges, whose mediumistic quality nevertheless reveals that Skodvin's music always comes from the body - and as such is always searching for space. A space that - in this case - blends the vastness of the Norwegian steppe with the brittleness of American wasteland (as if Deathprod and Loren Connors were one and the same person), creating a persistent state between deceleration and absence of presence - that leads Skodvin ever closer to the inner essence of sound.

Initially recorded at Saal 3, Funkhaus, Berlin by Nils Frahm in 2015, the album has itself been subjected to silence as a forgotten relic, re-found and now released in a time where it might connect more with the contemporary state of mind. Welcome to the entrance to the periphery.

Fake Yourself is an act of revolt as much as it is a celebration of life and an expression of human alienation. As usual in most of his work, soFa here reflects contrasts and contradictions as our existence so often does. It’s about sadness and joy, ups and downs and the fine line which connects them to tell a story. Fake Yourself comes as a spontaneous output of an artist escaping a scene of which the constant superficiality is unavoidable. Mistakes and wrong production with a strong DIY flavor are a conscious choice to not lose the spontaneous feeling which defines these recordings. A pure and direct self, exploring a realm of sound with sharp curiosity, emotion and humour. Where simplicity and complexity marry. This album is a good example on how some of the most authentic musical explorations are the most personal ones. soFa leaves all boundaries behind and let many of his influences confluence. Unconsciously or not, traces of IDM, Disco, New Beat, Dub and mostly Krautrock cross heavenly paths, followed by ironic and confronted vocals and his hypnotic signature basslines. Everything seems to make sense, to fill the chapters of an adventurous short novel. What makes Fake Yourself remarkable is not the deep blend of genres, but the definition of one man shaping and finding his authentic sound. Killing boundaries to create this journey in his very own "style-no-style". All tunes were improvised, recorded and arranged within 10 days in a wooden cabin, isolated in the middle of the nature in Alentejo/Portugal in 2022. This album was not meant to happen and one can strongly feel its spontaneous soul. No overdubs.

A long-in-the-works project of ours, here comes A Tribe Called Kotori's first foray into full-length territories, as the immensely talented Rampue takes us on a melancholy-riddled ride across his phantasmatic mindscapes. A true sound explorer, deftly steering his ship down the junction of electronica, abstract and balearic-infused prog house, the Berlin-based vibist has us transfixed and elevated throughout the twelve cuts that form the backbone to this lushly textured promenade in sound - at times understatedly euphoric, at others rivetingly exotic.

Of the creative process that lead to 'Bubblebath Trance', Rampue explains "It all started and ended in the same moment: my cherished feline companion, my laptop awash with an unintended bath, and alas, a dearth of backups. The resultant calamity, an echo of chaotic tranquility." Under the generous layer of irony lies some unaltered truth about Rampue's debut long-player for A Tribe Called Kotori: this sense of serenity that goes with stepping into this warm and bubbling primitive chaos of sorts infuses the listening experience far and wide. Distantly emulating the "euphonious strains" of iconic PS1 video games soundtracks from his youth days, the album has us surfing a constant paradox of emotions, wistful but not abandoning itself to sorrow, dynamic yet suspended in some sort of mind-expanding stasis. As if you were looking at the world beneath you in exploded view, conscious of all thing, slowly moving up the many layers of our atmosphere towards uncharted skies.

A paragon of Rampue's most poignant take on classic electronica tropes, 'Harmonie' blazes with a poetic fire that engulfs about everything in its wake. Just figure yourself riding a chocobo across the sand-covered expanse of North Corel (toasting to the FFVII nerds here) as this blasts out in the distance. From this trancey bubblebath emerge lots of musical shades and nuances, from the nicely dubbed-out, brass-heavy coastal jazz of 'Schattenschranz' to the choppy, trip-hop-adjacent future electronics of 'Inside', via the exuberantly joyous mess of faux-organic number 'Tripomatic' and cinematic charisma of 'Ich hasse Sonne' high-flying orchestrations.

Connecting the dots between that trance-indebted ebullience and further downtempo-friendly attraction, 'Verfahren' perhaps encompasses best what 'Bubblebath Trance' is about: gracefully walking the tightrope in-limbo nostalgia-soaked inner movements and a powerful outward thrust, burning to let the feelings ooze out from the shell that holds them.Clad in purely 90s-compatible breaksy motion, 'Salz' is another attempt to reconcile emotional and physical dissonance, like kneading all states - solid, liquid and vaporous - into an impossible mega-vibe of its own; malleable, strong and enveloping in equal measure. Borrowing from two-step and UK garage, 'Take Away' is a definite high in Rampue's master unfolding of musical twists and turns, summoning a Boarder Community-esque atmosphere and clashing it alongside floor-ready footwork motifs to fascinating effect.

An ode to his studio companion, 'Buchla Trip' finds Rampue's exploring his machinic friend's quirky yet soulful array of electronic potentialities - making it sound like a conversation you'd have with R2-D2 in the heart of a Sandcrawler, whereas 'Kajal' beams us up to a fragmented headspace, halfway altered PC-Pop and arps-loaded electronica on amphetamines. Effusive and transporting, the title-track 'Bubblebath Trance' could well figure as the album's no.1 medley in essence: a bountiful lucid dream of dancing forms, colours and sentiments to wrap your head around, confidently drifting from a liminal state of consciousness down the rapids of one's troubled inner workings.

Rounding off the package, the languid ambient finale of 'Die Leiden des hungrigen Fruehstuecks' rubber-stamps the feeling that 'Bubblebath Trance' belongs to that rare category of albums. The ones that mint their own alphabet aside from typical norms and expectations, teaching you the ropes of their new language as it unreels between your ears - real and unreal, elusive to any other meaning than the one your guts and brains will be inclined to give it to, in real time. A crystal-pure object if you will, that shall not reveal its secrets, even after a thousand listens and just as many wowing moments.

NEW 45 BY DEEP-FUNK PIONEER LUCKY BROWN RECORDED DURING THE NOW LEGENDARY SPACE DREAM SESSIONS!

In around 2001, Joel Ricci, the trumpet player/composer behind his former stage alias, Lucky Brown, went traveling on a worldwide "quest for funk". During that pilgrimage, he went to London England in time to attend Keb Darge's 'Legendary Deep Funk' 6-year anniversary at Madame Jojo's. While in the middle of the dancefloor, he was moved so significantly by this obscure brand of 'deep funk' Mr. Darge was unveiling, he became overcome by a mystical sense of 'coming home'. Additionally, he spent a week at Camden's Jazz Cafe to meet The Poets of Rhythm, The Breakestra, The Sugarman Three, DJ Snowboy, DJ James Trouble, and others. When Joel mentioned the nature of his quest to Neal Sugarman, he warmly invited him to come visit Brooklyn and kick it with members of Antibalas, Binky Griptite & The Mellomatics, and the Dap Kings. But before the trip back to the states, Joel spent some time in Paris playing his trumpet at a club called 'Cithea' where they would host weekly 'rare groove' jam sessions. During the jams, Parisian students of Tony Allen would overtake the stage with their instruments and their full African clothing, chant the word, 'Fela', and begin to play this intense free improvised funk and afrobeat. While traveling by train from Paris to the south of France to visit family, Joel began hearing this inspiring polyrhythm swirling in his inner ear and mixing with the "clack-clacka" of the train moving down the track. As soon as he arrived at his destination, he sat down at a piano and jotted down the polyrhythm, bass line and fundamental horn cluster on a piece of sheet music paper. The simple tune was finally rendered to tape ten years later with Lucky Brown's Crawdad Farmers aka The Funk Revolution on the Magik Carpet at drummer Olli Klomp's Lakeside log cabin in Stanwood, Washington. The tune became the title track to Lucky's first full-length on Tramp Records (Lucky Brown's Space Dream, TRLP-9011).

Space Dream is so titled in part to commemorate a soulfunk masquerade party Joel threw at a temporary all-ages Bellingham Washington music venue called 'The Pickford Dream Space'. This is Joel's stripped-down tape-only remix and re-edit which has never before appeared on 45RPM and commemorates the re-release, remaster and repackaging of upcoming Tramp LPs, "Space Dream" and "Don't Go Away", the fully realised 'director's cut' featuring Ricci's early group funk experiment: "The Funk Revolution."

Frankie Cosmos, Palehound, Jay Som, Helado Negro, Lala Lala, Mamalarky, Sword II. Atlanta three-piece Kibi James announce their debut full-length album, delusions, out August 25th on Bayonet Records. Mari (guitar, keys), MJ Corless (bass) and Pomi Abebe (drums) join forces in crafting intoxicatingly dreamy melodies, their soft, siren-like voices sweeping you into their world as they bilingually share reflections on love in its many forms – romantic, familial, self – but most prominently the love that comes from their friendship. Co-produced, recorded and mixed by Drew Vandenberg (Faye Webster, SPELLLING, Toro y Moi) at Chase Park Studios in Athens, GA, and mastered by Heba Kadry, delusions is laden with vividly lush portraits of the places they call home Atlanta, their music community, their physical house, and the sense of home they have in one another. While the outside world is often a source of chaos, Kibi James finds security and intimacy in their shared domestic life together – the details of which come in the form of the intimate narratives and memories that make up delusions. From the manifestation spell for their now-apartment that's included in the first verse of "mister g," to finding homely solace in loved ones on "right now" and "bender," the band's ultimate sense of home is both fluid and utterly unshakable, as long as they have each other. They harmonize in both English and Spanish as their voices softly intertwine, singing of their hopes for the future over hazy, treated guitars and the soft pattering of drums. Their strong sense of unconditional love and mutual camaraderie keep them grounded, preserving the warm, optimistic light that has shone through every aspect of the band since their genesis. Corless says, "We're proud of where we come from and where we're headed. We're absolutely going to keep these delusions going."

Frankie Cosmos, Palehound, Jay Som, Helado Negro, Lala Lala, Mamalarky, Sword II. Atlanta three-piece Kibi James announce their debut full-length album, delusions, out August 25th on Bayonet Records. Mari (guitar, keys), MJ Corless (bass) and Pomi Abebe (drums) join forces in crafting intoxicatingly dreamy melodies, their soft, siren-like voices sweeping you into their world as they bilingually share reflections on love in its many forms – romantic, familial, self – but most prominently the love that comes from their friendship. Co-produced, recorded and mixed by Drew Vandenberg (Faye Webster, SPELLLING, Toro y Moi) at Chase Park Studios in Athens, GA, and mastered by Heba Kadry, delusions is laden with vividly lush portraits of the places they call home Atlanta, their music community, their physical house, and the sense of home they have in one another. While the outside world is often a source of chaos, Kibi James finds security and intimacy in their shared domestic life together – the details of which come in the form of the intimate narratives and memories that make up delusions. From the manifestation spell for their now-apartment that's included in the first verse of "mister g," to finding homely solace in loved ones on "right now" and "bender," the band's ultimate sense of home is both fluid and utterly unshakable, as long as they have each other. They harmonize in both English and Spanish as their voices softly intertwine, singing of their hopes for the future over hazy, treated guitars and the soft pattering of drums. Their strong sense of unconditional love and mutual camaraderie keep them grounded, preserving the warm, optimistic light that has shone through every aspect of the band since their genesis. Corless says, "We're proud of where we come from and where we're headed. We're absolutely going to keep these delusions going."

In Rumi's poem A Great Wagon he writes of a place of total acceptance. "Out beyond ideas of wrongdoing and rightdoing, there is a field. I'll meet you there," It is a boundless, liminal space where we can release the judgments we make and carry of ourselves, and the comparisons to others. When we think of this field, there is a sense of tranquility that only comes when we are undisturbed by the shadow self and see existence as neither bright nor dim, white nor black. But as lead singer Greg Bertens explains, arriving there is a whole different story. "This is a poem I've returned to over the years, and I love the idea of this place, but getting there is life's journey." Bertens adds "I think the longing for and elusiveness of this field is a recurring theme in our music." Field is enveloped by themes of regret, disconnection and frustration but with the space to understand that these feelings are a natural part of the struggle between reconciling the inner and outer self. The Los Angeles/San Francisco-based group have been indie shoegaze stalwarts since their formation in 2001. After two decades and a handful of line-up changes, their extensive discography presents a dynamically textural, lush psychedelic rock that has featured guest appearances by members of Pavement, My Bloody Valentine, and Snow Patrol, among others. 2021's LP We Weren't Here was hailed for its dense instrumental blanket, where unrelenting hi-hats and heavy kicks exist alongside dreamy drone guitar. This propulsive nature permeates Field, as members Bertens, Noël Brydebell (vocals), Nyles Lannon (guitar), Jason Ruck (synths), Justin LaBo (bass), and Adam Wade (drums) produce a kaleidoscopic sonic landscape. Patient, sprawling instrumentation builds a foundation in which Bertens' themes of endurance, perseverance and clarity can bloom with a considered poise. As a lyricist who writes in response to the instrumental arrangements, rather than a focus on a specific theme or person, Field is a testament to Film School's ability to create in the moment, and to showcase the magic that stems from when we are truly present. Album opener "Tape Rewind" is a swirling rush of color, as sustained guitars, darkened bass lines and urgent, percussive swells dance alongside each other. "This is the newest of all the songs on the record and feels like a new level of heaviness for the band," Bertens explains, noting that its lyrical context of struggling to move past trauma adds to its cathartic essence. Field is bookended by heavier themes, with closer "All I'll Ever Be" taking on the perspective of those we hurt when we embrace our own toxic behaviors. Originally written to be a simple acoustic guitar and vocals song soon turned into an ethereal, effects-laden composition, with Noël's hazy lead vocals ushering in a new-found acceptance. "It's all I want / To be released / And all I can be," she laments, cementing Field's message of accepting ourselves in whatever form we find ourselves in. "Defending Ruins" is a murky relentless underworld, inspired by the freewheeling tones of Texas-based band Holy Wave. "Defending the ruins, defending remains," Bertens spits, among a richly-layered outro. "Don't You Ever" confirms Film School's ability to merge both delicate and growling instrumentation throughout the album, with the song's softly spoken section hovering above sparkling guitar. "Is This A Hotel" bends towards the electronic aspects of the band, with wailing synths accompanying a story of bitter desire. With over two decades in the industry, Field cements Film School as a distinct, dominant force in the shoegaze scene. Soaked in an emotionally open, imaginative atmosphere, the album is both singular and expansive, and leaves the door open for a constantly evolving interpretation. Film School have never confined themselves to the rigidity of specifics, and it's on Field that they urge us to look beyond the binary of certainty, and to take a second look

Boy Harsher, Portishead, Thom Yorke, Radiohead, Beak>, ERAAS, SUUNS. Over the past seven years, Public Memory's distinctive use of analog synthesizers, electronic beats mixed with organic percussion, lo-fi sound design, and gritty ambience has created a singularly eerie and shadowy world. The first seconds of Public Memory's new record, Elegiac Beat, thrust us immediately into that world. We are in media res, with a feeling of sudden movement from a sensible point A to B. Given some time however, we realize that there is something askew–a bit of brightness here, some shadows pushed aside, some jazz and funk amongst the dub and Krautrock. This is an unfamiliar, ambiguous mood that pushes Public Memory towards new ground. We still drift past the clouded lights and hollowed out buildings of previous albums, but with an occasional bounce in our step now, a bit of golden haze around the edges. First single "Savage Grin" cements this clearly. The track has a jazzy, trip-hop flavor, albeit filtered through Public Memory's narcotic, hazy lens. We could be in a hotel lounge in the alps somewhere on holiday, or out of time in a majestic, sparkling ballroom. But we still have the feeling of being haunted, or perhaps even hunted in some way. This feeling intensifies and comes to a head towards the ever-darkening end of the track, leading directly into "Afterimage", in which someone almost imperceptibly sings "I hear them coming" in a twisted, auto-tuned flail. Second single "7 Floor" begins with flanged drums and damaged synthesizer stabs, evoking a kind of apparition floating towards us in the mist. As the track moves on there is, similarly to "Savage Grin", a contrast in feeling between a cold exterior roaming and an interior, warmer, human place. This time however, we move from the colder to the warmer as the synths from the track's beginning make way for a Rhodes-style organ and backing string synth, infusing an unexpected sense of peace. But like "Savage Grin", the track moves to its end through an in-between place beyond the haze. Faded and distant synthesizers meld with voices–human, or perhaps otherwise–that beckon us, or perhaps warn us. We can't be sure which. Third single "Far End Of The Courtyard" brings us closest to classic Public Memory territory with hip-hop beats, chopped and screwed samples, lo-fi ambience, and ghostly electric pianos complementing the vocals. There is darkness, perhaps more here than in the previous two singles, but with a crucial moment of uplifting lightness so subtle it may be missed upon first listen. As an inverse to both "Savage Grin" and "7 Floor" we end with brightness, the jazzier side of the record pushed to the forefront as the track fades away on that golden haze. In the end though, the haze may be just that: a vapor, a mist, a slight dusting of some other world on top of the degraded one Public Memory so effectively portrays. Elegiac Beat is between two places, and as it straddles the line between the two, we are uncertain if the light it brings shines directly from the sun, or if it is dimly reflected through that majestic ballroom world. For fans of 1990s Bristol trip hop, coldwave, and Thom Yorke's The Eraser

Wewantsounds Is Pursuing Its Ambitious Akiko Yano Reissue Program With The Release Of "japanese Girl", Her Landmark Debut Album From 1976. Backed By Little Feat With Lowell George And By The Cream Of Japanese Musicians (including Haruomi Hosono), Japanese Girl Is One Of The Most Important Japanese Albums Of The 70s, Mixing Pop, Rock, Japanese Folk Together With Little Feat's Superb Classic Sound. This Is The Very First Time The Album Is Released Internationally. The Deluxe Lp Edition Includes Remastered Sound, Tip-on Lp Sleeve, Download Card Plus The Original 4-page Insert With Lyrics And Full Line-up!
When Akiko Suzuki Left Her Home Town Of Aomori For Tokyo In The Early 70s Aged Just 15 To Become A Professional Musician, She Quickly Started Making Waves On The Local Music Scene Performing At The Jazz Club Rob Roy. In 1973 She Released A 7" With The Group Zariba And Caught The Attention Of A&r Man Koki Miura. She Then Recorded One Song, "oinaru Shiino-ki" With Haruomi Hosono On Bass And Drummer Tatsuo Hayashi (who Features On Many Hosono Albums And Also Hiroshi Sato's 1979 Album Orient) With A Full Album In Mind.

After A Marriage With Musician/producer Makoto Yano And The Birth Of Her Son (named Fuuta), Yano And Her Team Resumed The Recording Of The Album And Decided To Pitch Little Feat For A Collaboration As She Loved The Group. Against All Odds They Said Yes And Yano Left Tokyo For Los Angeles In March 1976 To Record A Full Side With Them. The Legend Has It They Found It So Difficult To Keep Up With Yano's Compositions They Returned Some Of Their Fee. The Session Was Nevertheless Stunning And Lowell George Even Compared Yano To Stevie Wonder. The Little Feat Blend Of New Orleans Groove Matched Yano's Melodies Perfectly, As Witnessed On "funamachi-uta Part 2." Originally A Traditional Song From The Nebuta Festival In Her Hometown Of Aomori (part I On Side 2 Gives A Good Idea Of What The Original Form Sounds Like), The Little Feat Version Is A Formidable Slow-funk Workout Not Dissimilar To Their Classic, "spanish Moon", Serving Yano's Beautiful Vocals And Sense Of Groove To Perfection. The Whole Side Is A Match Made In Heaven, Showcasing The Classic Little Feat Line Up At Their Funkiest With Yano's Unique Japanese Twist.

The Japanese Side On The Album Gives A Great Snapshot Of The Tokyo Music Scene Of The 70s With Many Musicians Gravitating Around Haruomi Hosono (and Present On His 1973 Classic Album 'hosono House' Including Sound Engineer Kinji Yoshino) And Also Several Musicians From Japanese Band, The Moonriders.

Recorded At The Legendary Onkyo Haus Studio In Tokyo, The Sessions Mix Singer-songwriter Sensitivity And Pop With Traditional Japanese Sounds And Instruments Like The Shinobue Transverse Flute, The Koto String Instrument Or The Tsuzumi Hand Drum As Played On "hekoriputaa" By The Legendary Percussionist Kisaku Katada Who Was Appointed Living National Treasure By The Japanese State In 1999; Together They Create A Beautiful East-meets-west Mix Masterfully Driven By Yano's Creativity And Unique Talent.

A Breathtaking Debut Album That Made Akiko Yano One Of The Most Important Artists To Emerge From The 70s, Japanese Girl Has Since Become A Milestone In Japanese Music With A Recent Documentary On Nhk Tv Telling The Whole Story Behind This Classic. Wewantsounds Is Now Proud To Present This Essential Album To The Rest Of The World.

Picking up where Those Who Tell the Truth Shall Die, Those Who Tell the Truth Shall Live Forever left off, The Earth Is Not a Cold Dead Place begins as a flickering twinkle that soon grows to a blinding light. This new sense of hope is the defining characteristic of this record, and ultimately the journey that their music takes us on.

Das neunköpfige australische Spiritual-Jazz-Ensemble Menagerie um Produzent, Songwriter, Gitarrist, DJ und Aufnahmeleiter Lance Ferguson expandiert seinen Sound weiter in das Musikuniversum. Das neue Album 'The Shores Of Infinity' ist ein zukunftsweisender, rhythmuslastiger Ausdruck des zeitgenössischen Jazz, der, tief in der Tradition verwurzelt, sich jeder Genre-Schublade entzieht. Inspiriert sowohl von der Post-Coltrane-Generation der 70er Jahre als auch von der aktuellen New Wave Of Jazz haben Menagerie international große Wellen geschlagen und bei Worldwide FM, Jazz FM und Jazzwise mehrfach ausgezeichnet.

'So well - and lovingly - executed that it's ultimately impossible to ignore.' - Jazzwise

"There is an overarching sense of profound amazement throughout it all.' - Blues & Soul

'A stunning work, full of integrity and class… Essential.' - Echoes

'Wonderful record, full of some great Kamasi/Donald Byrd/even Art Blakey moments!' - The Guardian

Coke Bottle Clear Vinyl. High Vis were formed in 2016 from the ashes of some of the UK's best hardcore bands. Gild-toothed frontman Graham Sayle's anguished lyrics about life in working class Britain were familiar to fans of Tremors' full-throttle thrash, but alongside his former bandmate Edward `Ski' Harper and veterans of Dirty Money, DiE and The Smear, High Vis sought to transform that energy and intensity into something entirely new.Like scene-mates Chubby and the Gang did by pulling in unlikely source material from classic doo-wop or Micromoon have by combining everything from psychedelia and metal into their high potency mix, High Vis' 2019 debut album, No Sense No Feeling showed the band were never going to be constrained by any sense of genre rules or regulations. Its claustrophobic rattle bore traces of Joy Division, Bauhaus, Crisis, The Cure and Gang Of Four lurking in the shadows. 2020's synth-driven EP, Society Exists, was further evidence of the band's restless creative MO.High Vis' second album Blending sees them open their viewfinder wider than ever before. Alongside longstanding favourites such as Fugazi and Echo and The Bunnymen; Ride and even Flock Of Seagulls were shared reference points as the band worked on the album together.From the anthemic sweep of opener "Talk For Hours", through the title track's psychedelic swirl and "Fever Dream"'s baggy groove, it sees High Vis' sound blossoming into something with an unlimited richness. The hazy drift of "Shame" or the melodic jangle of "Trauma Bonds" may take them until uncharted waters, but they still have all the power and bite that made No Sense No Feeling so remarkable.Lyrically, the album represents another leap forward too. Talking frankly about poverty, class politics, and the challenges of everyday life, Sayle's lyrics have always addressed the downtrodden and discarded communities across Britain slipping below the waterline. This time around, Sayle's lost not of that social consciousness, but he's looked at himself and his own emotional landscape, and in the process created something that feels more universal, that reaches a hand-out to people and ultimately gives a message of hope."To me, the lyrics are less selfish," reflects Sayle. "In the past, I couldn't see past whatever was going on with me. It's about accepting things and being open to conversations and learning to talk to people rather than just thinking that we're all doomed."The song "Talk for Hours" is a prime example of that. Born out of an afternoon meeting up with an old group of mates "repeating the same thing and not actually learning anything about each other" it offers to actually break the cycle and to listen and speak frankly about shared feelings and experiences. "Trauma Bonds", meanwhile, traces the broken lines of those living in lost communities, but ultimately realises that despite our shared scars, there's still hope to move on to a better future."The message of the album is you're not who you're told you are," Sayle summarises. "You're not your class background. Whatever it is, you're not that. Don't resign yourself to thinking you can't be this and you can't be that."It's a vitally important message right now, and one that could be the motto for not only Blending, but for High Vis themselves.

The tone always makes the music. But only those who actually make the sound An ancient-house-avantgarde dream has always been there since the legendary -Warehouse- days of Ron Hardy, to bring more sounds and tones constantly to an independent, repetitive development. And thus beyond the limits of an executive creative artist on the otherwise purely commercial sense what we call in common -beyond imagination-. -Raw Footage-, the latest album concoction of Chicago house legend Ron Trent (Prescription) on his new imprint -Electric Blue- works in the best sense of Stanislav Lem heroes Trurl & Klapauciusals, cruising like those two metal brains frantically invented by the universe of 4/4-Sounds to get insane tracks out of the new material matter located there, and put them together to brand new ones. This trackwerk varies as well as of course between classical Chi-Town to the context of contemporary, epic house dubs and lives in a perfidious manner from the interaction of various computer
modules that constantly spits out new and exciting interactions. In the end, the software sings only as digital output of great analog sounds, which may well be understood as a mocking voice to the majority of contemporary Homeboy wackiness formats.-Unpredictable- and less -cryptic- might fit here as a keyword excellent, where you kick out of the rough house plant a significant entertainment value must, without the need to posess necessarily the same nerves of steel. Anyone who has ever really wondered what House sound could be appropriate for a journey through the vastness of the universe is, gets there now at this point completely to his fullest expense. Trent 2012 and its tracks on this album reflect a lot about the revolutionary founder of -Spirit of music- from the mid-80s, who is recorded then as now but with inadequate slogans such as -light years ahead of its time-. For as
Trents body of work -Raw Footage- is also particularly scary genius material, although still of totally solid stress field and background from the musical spectrum between the Windy City and the Motor City engine bridled her.-But heres to the Future- For Sir Trent more than twenty years after -Altered States- and the relevant follow-ups, thats not really a problem!
Der Ton Macht immer die Musik. Nur wer macht eigentlich den Ton Ein uralter-House-Avantgarde-Traum war und ist es seit den legendären
:Warehouse: Tagen eines Ron Hardy, Sounds und Töne immer ständig neu zur selbstständigen, repetitiven Entfaltung zu bringen und somit die kreativen Grenzen des exekutiven Künstlers über die sonst im rein kommerziellen Sinne gängige Vorstellungskraft hinaus zu sprengen.
:Raw Footage:, das neueste Album-Machwerk von Chicago House-Legende Ron Trent (Prescription) auf seinem neuen Imprint :Electric Blue: kommt im besten Sinne der Stanislav Lem Heroen Trurl & Klapauciusals, und cruiost wie jene beiden Metallgehirne wie wahnsinnig durch das All der 4/4-Sounds, um aus dem dort befindlichen Materiematerial neue, wahnsinnige Tracks zu erfinden und zusammenzustellen. Dieses Trackwerk variert denn auch wie selbstverständlich zwischen dem klassischen Chi-Town-Kontext bis zu kontemporären, epischen House-Dubs, und lebt auf perfide Art
und Weise aus der Interaktion verschiedenster Computermodule, die dabei ständig neue aufregende Interaktionen ausspuckt. Am Ende singt eine digitale Software nur noch als Output großer analoger Sounds, die durchaus als Spottgesang auf den Großteil eitgenössischer Homeboy-Frickelei Formate verstanden werden dürfen.:Unberechenbar: und weniger kryptisch mag hier als Schlagwort vortrefflich passen, wo man dem rohen Housewerk ganz erheblichen Unterhaltungswert abgewinnen muss, ohne das man dazu unbedingt gleich Nerven wie Drahtseile benötigt. Wer sich je
eigentlich gefragt hat , welcher House-Sound so für eine Reise durch die endlosen Weiten des Universums angemessen sein könnte, kommt an dieser Stelle jetzt völlig(st) auf seine Kosten. Trent 2012 und seine Tracks reflektieren mit diesem Album zwar viel von dem revolutionären Gründerspirit einer Musik aus der Mitte der 80er-Jahre, die damals wie heute dennoch nur unzureichend mit Slogans wie ihrer Zeit um Lichtjahre voraus zu erfassen ist. Denn wie Trents Gesamtwerk ist eben auch :Raw Footage: insbesondere furchteinflößend genialer Stoff, wenngleich auch immer noch vom ganz und gar soliden Spannungsfeld und Background des musikalischen Spektrums zwischen der Windy und der Motor City her aufgezäumt. :But here's to the future: - Für Trent auch mehr als zwanzig Jahre nach :Altered States: und den einschlägigen follow-ups nicht wirklich ein Problem!

With I Will Make a Baby in this Damn Economy, Fat Tony embodies the kind of quixotic figure he would rap about; a singular entity who’s motivated, confident, and hungry; a perpetual-motion-machine locked in a staring contest with his country. It’s the latest album in his catalog produced entirely by L.A-based producer Taydex since 2020’s Wake Up. Later that same year Fat Tony released Exotica, and ever since he’s demonstrated he is in his own lane as a professional rapper with the mind of a magician, as quick to conjure an image as pull it out from under you, deftly manoeuvring through so many details and references a listener feels as if they have witnessed the work of an illusionist. He paints these canvases inside of songs that rarely spill past three minutes; they’re pocket-sized diaries replete with acute observations, character studies, microdoses of storytelling, and single-minded ruminations on a topic that bud, blossom, and fade before too long. Fat Tony & Taydex’s I Will Make a Baby in this Damn Economy cements Tony’s status as someone whose albums are not so much lyrically-lyrical as they are picaresque.
As with any Fat Tony project, the bars are tight as ever, but are so fluid for the 34-year-old it’s almost easy to take for granted the details, warmth, and humanity inside his free-associative tales of day-one friends who’ve passed, edgelord grifters who want to spit game, and nights on ketamine. Taydex’s production sprints through disparate yet simpatico styles, dipping its toes into Pi’erre Bourne-esque bass (see lead single “Spectacular”), house (“Loosen Up”), and even hyperpop. Meditations on loss and grief are woven throughout, but Tony throws a few curveballs as well: Consider “Alexis,” which sweetly reflects on a long-term platonic friendship. Taydex finds a Teddy Riley-indebted New Jack Swing groove just deep enough for the feeling to land and underlines the song’s sincere candor. This is the appeal of Fat Tony writ-large: his boisterous voice and genial personality invite you to the party, then you stick around to hear what he’s saying, which is frequently more introspective and complex than one assumes.
Written and recorded in Taydex’s new studio in North Hollywood, Tony says, “We had much more freedom and flexibility in making this album and you can hear it. It felt like a family project.” If the album is comfortable and loose, it is also dense and substantial. The album’s final two tracks contextualize the immediacy of what came before it—the mezcal with ices drank, Paul Wall swangin’ through to drop knowledge, the Polaris Prize-winning rapper Cadence Weapon providing a vibe check. “Make a Baby” accounts for Tony who’s seen everything, and knows he’s met the one to be a father with, and yet chooses to take his time to get it done. Taydex’s beat recalls turn-of-the-century R&B and the millennial promise of an endless good time. Sombre closer “Jasper, TX” is Tony coming to grips with the story of James Byrd, Jr., a Black man from East Texas dragged to his death by three white supremacists in 1998. These songs are not only trademarks of Tony’s fastidious rapping—they are deeply personal examples of his approach to artistry and life itself, where every decision is made in the shadow of history.
It’s here the mission statement of I Will Make a Baby in this Damn Economy comes into focus—you get the sense he means it, he’s ready for it, he’ll fight for it. He’s waiting to take the world at its word.