quête:new sense

Santana's self-titled debut album announces the arrival of a new Guitar God. Made during the legendary bandleader's most fruitful and creative period, the classic 1969 set functions as an accessible entry point into the tangy worlds of Latin music by way of an intoxicating blend of Afro-Cuban percussion, jazzy tempos, exotic leads, bluesy riffs, and psychedelic accents.

Indeed, separation between Carlos Santana's fluid fills, spicy solos, and broiling grooves and pianist Gregg Rolie's soulful Hammond organ runs allows the music to come alive with a newfound freshness and radiance. Songs simmer, with each passage bursting forth with vibrant colour. Just like the equally essential follow-up Abraxas, Santana also lays claim to one of the biggest (and unfortunate) production gaffes in music history.

For nearly four decades, copies were produced with the left and right channels reversed, meaning that everything was placed in a backwards manner. This even extended to compilations on which individual songs from Santana were included. Rest assured that, in addition to boasting reference audiophile sonics, this 180g 45RPM 2LP set gets all the specifications exactly right. And with a record of this magnitude, you want everything to be perfect.

Bound by natural chemistry and earthy spirituality, the record's innovative synthesis of myriad styles goes beyond anything that came before – as well as nearly everything that's followed. Playing with the finest band that the iconic guitarist ever had, Santana doesn't water down any exotic roots or simply incorporate mainstream Western styles into a Latin framework. This is a true hybrid, responsible for opening up borders, transcending cultural divides, and, most importantly, exhilarating the senses.

Released just weeks after the band blew minds at Woodstock, the groundbreaking record stands alongside Miles Davis' Bitches Brew and Jeff Beck's Beck-Ola as a pillar of rock fusion. Featuring the Top Ten radio smash "Evil Ways" and jam favorite "Soul Sacrifice," it hasn't aged a day. Hear like never before why Rolling Stone says Santana is #149 on its list of the Greatest Albums of All Time.

Ned Milligan is a New York based elementary school teacher and occasional musician. He’s behind the great small-run label Florabelle since 2015. This is his sixth solo album.

"My work in the past five years has been grounded in recording and playing outdoors, trying to communicate the meaning of being in a particular location and finding meaning in interacting with whatever sounds or elements are equally present. I'm still excited by all of it! This sense of purpose continues with Considerable and the most I could wish for is that the specificity of what I am doing and where I'm doing it manages to evoke something in anyone listening--a connection to their own environments and spaces. None of these pieces is strictly documentary or one-take in approach or composition, but I hope that the combination of processed and "factual" sounds achieve integrity."

chimes, singing drum, autoharp, field recordings, processing: Ned Milligan
campfire recording in "Sky Smokes & Electronics": Jerome Klap
additional percussion in "Mosey With Me": Rory Milligan
singing: graciously and anonymously donated

recorded mostly outdoors, sometimes indoors in York, Maine.

In the centre of deep space we tune in to the radio broadcasts from an old Class T interstellar spaceship. The emissions endlessly resonate the frequencies of the seventeenth release on the label HC Records by one of the titans of the Valencian scene, The Lost Boys, new pseudonym of the DJ and producer Raszia.

With releases on labels such as Bass Agenda, Subsist or Hxagrm Records, the artist mesmerises our senses with the Exiles of Mars Ep, available in both double vinyl and digital.

Syncopated rhythms are the protagonists across four original tracks together
with remixes by four electro legends: Boris Divider, Estrato Aurora, Dark Vektor, and Filmmaker.

The EP’s first cut is a remix of "Wall Of Bricks" by the legendary Boris Divider, which gives the track an air of crystalline, synthetic and cosmic sound, very much in line with his latest works on the Generative Operations series. Next, we find the original version, where the kick drums are heavier, the synths and basses more colourful and the acid sequences take centre stage in an odyssey of sidereal intensity.

On the record’s flip side, a feeling of overwhelming melancholy takes root in our soul. Valencian Estrato Aurora mentally transports us to the mysterious red sand of Mars in a precise exercise in symphonic minimalism with his remix of "Exiles of Mars", which mutates the original idea with velvety pads, synths and a slow and rapturous hypnotism that sinks us to unfathomable depths.
The Lost Boys' original concept on B2 is a combination of Miami Bass-style breaks and a demonic mantra-like main synth line, backed by what seems like an infinity of pearly effects and secondary melodies, pushing the track towards a crescendo punctuated by a dry and sharp snare.

The second disc’s opener "Bust My Moves" is a masterclass in deconstruction and reconstruction by Dark Vektor with his "Electro Escuadrón Remix”. The genius from Terrassa provides powerful lyrics loaded with a message about the modern rise of the 808 movement. We return to the original Lost Boys version on C2, a futuristic martial discourse takes shape with combating breaks combined with rave chords and brief episodes of respite, almost dreamlike, in the middle and end of the track’s exciting development.

On the D side, rough frequencies verging on distortion materialise through our ship's speakers as we pick up the Colombian Filmmaker’s remix of "Data Recovery For Brains". A psychotronic final appetiser that combines harshness and elegance in the use of the rolling kick drums and saturation of the sound, it is without a doubt the ideal soundtrack to narrate the collision of two galaxies. The closing of the EP features the original track, in which The Lost Boys show us his most mental and lysergic side as the track progresses along a slow and comforting broken rhythm, made dynamic by clever use of diverse acid sequences and clairvoyant stellar melodies.

The complete artistic experience is enhanced in all dimensions with accompanying artwork by
Daniel Requeni and videos elaborated by Frank-F.

Mastering as usual by Steve Voidloss at Black Monolith Studios in London (UK).

Returning to his home base, Rotterdam based electro-techno mainstay Conforce presents a heavy pack of angular, experimental approaches on his latest offering into the Delsin databank.

Boris Bunnik's accomplished machine language has traversed deep and dubby soundscapes with punchy, club-focused fare alike, since 2010's Grace EP he has found a regular home on Delsin and it's always exciting to see what he comes up with next.

Where Conforce has commonly housed Bunnik's more melancholic, introspective work, the sound palette on Sins Of Synthesis is more tipped towards darker dimensions. The shadow of braindance looms large, guiding the music towards twitchy pattern manipulation, alien textural design and dissonant harmonics.

Bunnik's signature sense of melody can still be detected around the edges, from the distant, hazy pads of 'Charlatan' to the lingering chimes of 'Fragile', but this is a pointed new direction for Conforce and it's leading somewhere very interesting...

Repress!

Montreal’s eclectic producer CFCF (aka Mike Silver) follows 2019’s effusive corporate jungle opus Liquid Colours with a kaleidoscopic capital-E Electronica album that takes a range of styles from his earliest formative listening years (1997-2000) and throws them in a blender. Elements of jungle, house, UK garage, trance, pop and post-grunge are blended to form a glossy picture of restless youth in an
identity crisis: memoryland.

Inspired as much by Sonic Youth and Smashing Pumpkins as the Chemical Brothers and Basement Jaxx; as much by films like Millennium Mambo, Demonlover, Morvern Callar, Safe and Perfect Blue as late 90’s Prada — CFCF jumps across genres as a means of portraying a breadth of overlapping milieus and identities in this hyperactive Y2K period-piece that both explores and criticizes our own nostalgic impulses. From the opening intro’s announcement of arrival to the final credits, it’s an album as film as RPG, with the listener as its protagonist.

Opener “welcome.WAV” functions as a start-up sound file for the journey ahead: from “Life is Perfecto”, a propulsive breakbeat-dreampop hybrid, to a grotesquely-remixed ultra-French-house version of previously released single “Self Service”, and the recursive, metaphysical garage of “After the After”. Two guest vocalists lend their talents: Montreal neo-shoegaze icons No Joy, fresh off their own genre-defying Y2K exploration Motherhood, laconically lists off advice for aspiring fashion ingenues with bite in the alt-rock-IDM “Model Castings”, while Kero Kero Bonito’s Sarah Bonito sweetly delivers the penultimate “Heaven”, grunge-pop paean to the myth of Icarus.

In CFCF’s words:
“I was feeling fatigued by an overabundance of ‘calming’, productivity-oriented music, and wanted to explore something angsty, messy, and dark, while also applying a pop sheen. I see a loose narrative across the album: your early 20’s, a new city, new people, new temptations and new traps. Losing your sense of self to the whims of your surroundings and trends in music and fashion; the wrong people, and trying to dig yourself out of that hole. There’s a hope of moving forward that glimmers in the last quarter of the album, but it’s out of reach and seems to come at a price. And then the looking back on it later with perspective; or the looking forward to it before with anticipation. As a kid I couldn’t wait to be in my 20’s; in my 30’s it’s bittersweet to look back. That’s the core of memoryland: the gulf between the fantasy, the reality, and the memory, and how we live inside each of those at different points.”

Originally released back in 1999 via Mindfood Records, Tiny Elvis ‘Desire’ EP gets a much-needed reissue on Cosmocities, topped off by two incredible remixes from Bushwacka! and Max in the World.

A smoother-than-smooth introduction into Tiny Elvis’ deep and progressive headspace, ‘Desire’ blazes with a modern soul and timeless fire at heart. While there’s no denying the time and era emanating from the grooves, the record prefigures a lot of the mind-expanding house music that’s come to fill the shelves and crates of vinyl shops two decades on. A distinctive blend of pumped-up, 303-brined jazz and abstract-leaning vocal loops ushering us into a pulsating heart of LSD-fuelled visions and climax-seeking energies.

Adding his invariably genius spin to ‘Desire’, UK house maestro Bushwacka! tweaks the original’s trademark wonkiness into that of a floor focused weapon, geared up for deep boogie action down the basement but lacking none of that prominently silken, loungey magnetism either.

On the flip side, ‘Howze The Music’ cuts a path of squelchy, strings-driven hypnosis, beautifully combining the liquid-like essence of acid with a neo-classical sense of evolutive emotion, injecting it with a tang of trancey tribalism for good measure.

New York's Max in the World gives a further dreamy, cinematic twist to proceedings, taking us on a lush ride across flickering landscapes flush with honey-dipped synth stabs, a-propos sampling and blissful strings stirring all kind of emotional flows with unrelenting verve.

Greg Paulus joins forces with fellow Brooklynite Taylor Bense for a new Freerange EP showcasing their left field, raw house sounds across three original tracks plus a bonus Martinez Brothers edit.

With previous releases appearing on labels as diverse as Soul Clap, Let’s Play House, Ghostly International and Kompakt, the producer, DJ and trumpeter is perhaps best known for being one half of No Regular Play who have recorded LP’s and EP’s for Wolf & Lamb, Crew Love, and Let’s Play House. Never one to be confined to one genre, Greg takes influence from Jazz, Funk, Hip Hop and underground house to form a unique sound primed for discerning dance floors. Taylor Bense is an in-house composer and producer at the highly regarded Hyperballad Studios in Brooklyn, where he works and records a wide spectrum of music for everything from high end commercial work to EP’s for Wolf + Lamb and Soul Clap Records. The entire EP was recorded and produced at Hyperballad Studios over the past few years.

Title track Heat Make Sense wears its Prince inspiration on its sleeve with a hooky whistled tune, crunchy live bass fills and punchy, raw beats. Next up we have Switch which features Brooklyn MC’s Stimulus and Malik Work on vocal duties and Greg’s own trumpet adding top lines to the deep pads and rolling groove.

Marino takes us back to golden era jacking Chicago house of the 00’s but with Greg’s trumpet flourishes bringing a live, jazzy energy to the track. Fellow NYC mainstay Big $exy provides his trademark deep baritone vocal to give a little hip house flavour. Closing out the EP we have NYC’s Martinez Brothers providing an uptempo minimal edit of Do You Love Me, a track from Greg’s previous Freerange EP. The MB’s keep things rolling and stripped back for maximum club impact creating a useful DJ tool whilst allowing Greg’s musical and vocal parts to shine.

Orpheu the Wizard has a magic touch at finding records that fall between the gaps in music - oddities, curios, the weird, the wonderful. But that's just half the trick. It takes a sensitive and selective ear to construct a coherent, accessible narrative from them. So you get DJs who can play for the crowd and "selectors" adept at mining the black gold. In Orpheu, you've got yourself someone who can do both. On a festival main stage, he can keep it weird enough for the heads. In an audiophile setting, he'll keep the flow.

These skill sets come into play on the fifth The Sound of Love International compilation. Jumping between genres, decades, continents, the truly rare, and many B-side cuts that passed you by. But never eclecticism for its own sake; this collection makes sense. Orpheu never loses sight of the listener - he's a friendly and knowledgeable guide to the cosmic outer reaches.

He opens his account with the warm, psychedelic electronics of Drawing Future Life, with ‘1969’. Tucked away on the B-side of an LP of ambient/trance hailing from Fukuoka, this is a very pretty piece of music on a truly rare piece of wax. Then, leapfrogging a couple of decades and timezones, we have Rutuu Poiss' "IHATSIN." Off-kilter, experimental sounds with an endearing melodic hook, followed up by the with lethargic ambient breakbeat of Digital Distortion's "Mellow Bug".

On the B-side, things start to get lively. French Audacity featuring Valerie's "That Fine One" is Gallic garage that has simultaneously got it hugely wrong and mas­sively right. Owing as much to new wave as New York house, this is propulsive and quirky dance music at its finest. Next, we're on a ferry over the channel for DJ Spike and "Gaps In Space." Up-tempo electro with a fondness for sampled vocal cut-ups, like its predecessor.

lnterdance's "Kurz" (another B-side) is the perfect segway - house from 1990 with that sweet, slightly goofy naivete. Things move toward the gnarly with Bad Behaviour and "Living on Smoke," a lesser-known cut on the legendary Atmosphere records. The tempo edges upward on "Systematic Input" by Frequency, hectic hardcore techno that still retains a lightness of touch.

"Lushes" by Diffusion spins us off into space, filigree techno with an emotive trance edge. The chiming intro of "Blue to Be Happy" by MFA lulls us into a sense of false security before massively putting the boot in with a pounding kick drum, bassline, and arpeggiation. From there, it's a sharp left turn into the urban psychedelic dub of R.I.P's "E.O Pan" on cult label Digi Dub.

Sticking with UK sound system music but taking it down a notch, Orpheu closes proceedings with a leftfield reggae excursion from the master of the mixing desk, Mad Professor’s"Oh Hell".

It's a compilation as varied as the many moods and grooves of Love International itself - from sun-dappled olive groves to moments deep in the strobes. This is serious music for party freaks or party music for serious freaks. Tisno is calling.

Eaux proudly announces the second full length LP from Rrose, Please Touch, released on vinyl, CD, and digital download. The LP follows 2019's Hymn to Moisture in ways that are both subtle and striking: Please Touch further hones the artist's tensile sound while exploring new aesthetic vistas and basking in an undeniably erotic sense of play. Moving with undulating power, the album's nine tracks drift across tempos from a weightless 0 bpm to a crawling 100 to a lunging 140 and back, with a rich palette of sculpted noise and cross-talking microtones.

Rrose's compositional process, rooted in their studies with West Coast avant garde trailblazers at Mills College, centers on "seed" sounds being fed through elaborate webs of interrelated audio processing. The result is a world where changes in any one element have downstream implications for some or all the others. It's a rich interdependence that lets the tracks breathe, grow and mutate with uncanny organicism. Please Touch addresses in equal measure the perceptual and the corporeal: these are sounds that sink into the body, exhibiting a tactility that pushes, pulls, bends and yields with fearsome vibrancy.

The album splits its time between radical techno iterations and pieces which pare back the percussion, letting the synth textures uncurl in their own time and space. The quivering drone and rolling sub-bass of "Joy of the Worm'' set the tone for the record, while "Rib Cage," Spore" and "Spines " swing with stepping rhythmic underpinnings. Building with finely calibrated tension, they use their few elements to startling, snarling effect. "Pleasure Vessels" is a rare moment of becalmed introspection in Rrose's oeuvre, hinting at a melodic ambiance that is practically unseen in previous works. It glows with a soft, dawn-like light before dissolving into a tidal fizz. "The Illuminating Glass'' brings the tempo down to a languorous chug, nodding its way through a field of glistening chirps and leaden gasps. "Feeding Time," "Disappear" and album closer "Turning Blue'' meanwhile nod to the cerebral psychedelia of Rrose's forebears, with mesmeric, looping textures and long, magisterial tones not dissimilar to the spectral works of James Tenney (whose work Rrose regularly performs) and the deep listening pieces of Pauline Oliveros.

The title of the album refers playfully to the tactile quality of the music while hinting at a forbidden sensuality that is only permitted within the confines of this microcosm. The phrase is also another nod to Marcel Duchamp, who gave this title to a 1947 exhibition of Surrealist art. Across the nine tracks, Rrose follows the lead of the sound(s) rather than trying to impose on the flow of the sonic material. Each move changes the parameters of a track's evolution. Thus, a non-hierarchical, symbiotic relationship forms between the so-called "music-maker" and the music itself. Please Touch acts as a collection of limbs, organs, parasites, and growths which both devour each other and keep each other alive.

Farbige Neuauflage des Best-Of-Albums Follow Your Bliss (2012) der US-Post-Hardcore-Band Senses Fail zum 25-jährigen Jubiläum - mit sämtlichen Fan-Favoriten der ersten vier Studioalben plus vier zusätzlichen Tracks, produziert von Brian McTernan (Thrice, Turnstile, Hot Water Music), die zum Zeitpunkt der Veröffentlichung 2012 noch unveröffentlicht waren.

Limitierte, handnummerierte Splatter-Neuauflage des Best-Of-Albums Follow Your Bliss (2012) der US-Post-Hardcore-Band Senses Fail zum 25-jährigen Jubiläum - mit sämtlichen Fan-Favoriten der ersten vier Studioalben plus vier zusätzlichen Tracks, produziert von Brian McTernan (Thrice, Turnstile, Hot Water Music), die zum Zeitpunkt der Veröffentlichung 2012 noch unveröffentlicht waren.

When I first heard Natalie Rose LeBrecht's time-suspending, air-ionizing music, more than twenty years ago, I thought "this kid is on to something." She's been proving that thought right ever since. Her recordings, from the teenage 4-track tapes she made as Greenpot Bluepot to the recent albums under her own name, have been fascinating dispatches from her progressively deeper dives into her gorgeous, weird, wildly idiomatic aesthetic. Holy Prana Open Game is a jewel of intensely personal cosmic music, created through a remarkable process of openness, craftiness, addition and subtraction. It belongs to a tradition of albums that document a rich, meditative sound as it rises up to join the world outside its creators' minds: Alice Coltrane's Universal Consciousness, Harmonia's Musik von Harmonia, Philip Glass's North Star, Talk Talk's Laughing Stock.

"Meditative" is specifically the idea here: Holy Prana Open Game had its origins in the fourteen days LeBrecht spent silently meditating in her home's small music room in the summer of 2019. "I came out of that bursting with the will to create new music," she says, and she created it sound-first. LeBrecht taught herself to program an analog synthesizer's timbres from scratch, and built a new set of glacial, heady compositions out of them, eventually singing to accompany the keyboard parts she was playing.

Then she closed her eyes at her computer, "let my mind be clear and open, imagined light pouring down through me, and began auto-writing to my memory of the music playing through my mind. Most of the lyrics emerged this way, and then I used my conscious mind to refine them a bit at the end." One other song came along with LeBrecht's new pieces, a cover that seems wildly unlikely from the outside and makes total sense in its context: it's a version of Atoms for Peace's "Amok" (which had been created by improvisation and editing, too), mutated into her own idiolect.

In early March of 2020, LeBrecht recorded Holy Prana Open Game's analog synth parts with Martin Bisi at his studio in Brooklyn--and then the world shut down. As you may have gathered, LeBrecht is very much a spiritual, head-in-the-stars type. She is also extremely hardcore, and if making the art she wants to make means doing things the hard way, she cracks her knuckles and gets down to it. Within weeks, she had taught herself how to record, mix and edit with a digital audio workstation. She recorded her vocal parts (sometimes multi-tracked into a radiant choir) at home, assembled a rough mix of the album, and sent it off to her collaborators.

LeBrecht spent some years studying with and assisting La Monte Young and Marian Zazeela at their legendary sound-and-light installation, the Dream House. As with their work, her singular, precisely focused vision is shored up by its openness to artistic voices beyond her own. For Holy Prana Open Game, she worked with the Australian guitarist Mick Turner and drummer Jim White (both of Dirty Three, the Tren Brothers and innumerable other projects), as well as woodwind player David Lackner, a longtime presence on her recordings.

Turner and White have been playing together in one context or another since 1985; in the summer of 2020, they were only blocks from each other in Melbourne, Australia, whose strict lockdown meant they couldn't meet up to record together. So both of them, as well as Lackner, recorded their improvisational additions to LeBrecht's rough mixes individually, often without hearing each other's contributions. "I had asked them to play as much as they could on each track," she says, "and told them that I would edit it all down in post, so I had a lot of source material of theirs to work with."

LeBrecht arranged and edited the recordings from all four of their homes to flow together like breath across the duration of her suite. Prana, one of the album's central conceits, is in fact the Sanskrit word for breath, with the connotation of the breath of life. Like LeBrecht's music, prana flows at its own pace, and demands stillness to take in fully--but it's also subtly playful and surprising, a force that can be as light as air or as immersive as the atmosphere itself.

Black Truffle is pleased to announce Symphony No. 107 –The Bard, a previously unheard archival recording of the legendary improvising ensemble MEV (Musica Elettronica Viva), captured in concert at Bard College, New York in 2012. Formed by a group of American expat composers in Rome in 1966, the MEV ensemble played an important role in the development of free improvisation, bridging the live electronics tradition begun by Cage and Tudor and the high-energy squall of free jazz. Early recordings like Spacecraft or The Sound Pool unleash volleys of metal and glass amplified with contact microphones, howling winds, primitive synthesizer bleep and raucous audience participation, the intensity of which puts much later ‘noise’ to shame. In later decades, the ensemble would go through many iterations, often including legendary free players like Steve Lacy and George Lewis. In its final years, MEV settled into the core trio of founding members heard here: Alvin Curran, Frederic Rzewski, and Richard Teitelbaum, using piano, electronics, and small instruments.

Curran, Rzewski, and Teitelbaum were life-long friends blessed, as Curran says, with ‘incompatible personalities’: major figures in the post-Cagean experimental tradition, they explored countless divergent and even contradictory paths as composers and performers, from agitprop songs to brainwave-controlled synthesis. MEV is the sound of these three personalities coming together, their contributions radically individual yet attaining a state of ‘fundamental unity’ that Rzewski, in a text written in the collective’s earliest years, defined as the ‘final goal of improvisation’. Of course, listeners familiar with aspect of the trio’s individual works might hazard some guesses about who is doing what: the crisp piano figures are probably Rzewski’s, the cut-up hip-hop samples most likely Curran’s, the sliding, squelching synth possibly Teitelbaum’s. But often these identities are dissolved in a constantly shifting hall of mirrors, the listener unable to tell which of these pianos is live and which is a sample of a past virtuoso, or whether a horn blast derives from ethnographic documentation or Curran cutting loose on Shofar. The two side-long sets here occupy a similar terrain of constantly shifting texture and instrumentation, unexpected interruptions, and moments of sudden beauty. The first set is sparser, at times almost ominous, as a bell repeatedly sounds across wheezing harmonica, seasick orchestral textures, and creaking wood, making room for episodes of yodelling and delicate prepared piano before exploding into a storm of buzzing synth and piano fragments. The second set is more frenetic, moving rapidly across centuries and continents: cars crash into post-serial piano pointillism, wailing voices collide with chopped and screwed hip-hop samples, Hollywood strings are buried under layers of electronic gurgles. The performance slows in its final moments, making way for a sampled voice repeating the phrase ‘protest and the good of the world’, reminding us that MEV’s idea of freedom was always more than musical. Symphony No. 107 –The Bard is a beautifully recorded example of the endlessly multi-layered later MEV sound, accompanied by new liner notes by Alvin Curran (now the only surviving member of the group) and a selection of previously unseen photographs from across the many decades of the group’s activity. Arriving in an elegant sleeve bearing a beautiful photograph by Francis Zhou of the Olin Hall at Bard College where the concert was recorded, this is an essential document from a major group in the history of experimental music. As Rzewski wrote, this music is ‘like life, unpredictable, sometimes making sense, mostly not’.

The Search for God is a wake-up call for a troubled world that’s still worth saving, animated by a belief in the power of small connections to add up to big changes. At 10 songs delivered in a brief 15 minutes, Jimmy Whispers’ long-awaited sophomore album feels present in a way that feels brand new for the cult auteur. Like many of us, Jimmy has been affected by the pressure of the past few years. After embracing sobriety in 2019, and now as a filmmaker sharing the stories of lesser known Los Angeles community members, he’s brought his dreaming down to earth, while turning its direction even further out.

Recorded with his longtime friend Ziyad Asrar of the band Whitney (and re-recorded after a hard drive incident destroyed the original files), The Search for God was created in the wake of Jimmy’s COVID isolation, and returns to some teen influences that are out of step with the chill/lo-fi LA indie rock scene he’s found himself lumped in with. Created mostly with two vintage synths, a single Roland CR5000 drum machine, and a busted karaoke machine, it channels Midwestern emo, the Beach Boys’ Smile, subtle nods at hyper-pop production, and forgotten jewel-box era college radio of the early aughts into a pure pop sound that transcends easy categorization.

The album’s standout single—and its statement of purpose—is “Hellscape,” which packs more into a minute and 40 seconds than you’d think possible: multiple immediately-unforgettable hooks, kaleidoscopic keyboards, and a bracing reminder that even the most transcendent moments are rooted in a world full of suffering. “This is a fucking hellscape,” Jimmy sings. “This is real life / this is happening.”

That may sound like punk nihilism, but The Search for God is anything but. Every lyrical acknowledgment of how fucked things are right now comes with a promise that we can still make positive changes. Jimmy calls it “God”; you might call it Love or Peace or A Place In the Universe That Makes Some Kind of Sense.

Will The Search for God deliver whatever that is to you? Of course not. At its heart, it’s still just a really good pop album. But maybe that’s enough. For a minute or two at a time, Jimmy’s music cracks open a space where the divine can enter our lives. The utopia we’ve all been dreaming of is already here if we’re just willing to build it. Jimmy Whispers is there, ready to add his voice, whenever we want to reach out.

Black Duck captures a band already deeply in tune with one another. The three-piece super-group consists of Douglas McCombs, Charles Rumback, and Bill MacKay each has a distinct musical voice that is instantly recognizable, yet blends seamlessly with one another-their time performing together, playing to the moment and reading each other and the spaces they"re in formed a fluency between the trio which allows them to follow each other down winding paths and short tangents alike. McCombs is a founding member of Tortoise, Pullman, and Brokeback and the long-standing bassist for Eleventh Dream Day, an artist whose contribution to the music world can not be overstated. MacKay began releasing records in the early 2000s. He has released several acclaimed solo albums with Drag City as well as a duo album each with Nathan Bowles (Banjo, Black Twig Pickers), and Katinka Kleijn (Cello, Chicago Symphony Orchestra (CSO)), and two beloved records with Ryley Walker. Rumback burst onto the fertile Chicago improvised music scene in the early 2000"s. His fluid technique and expressive playing garnered him much attention. In addition to his solo releases, Rumback has recorded with Ryley Walker, jazz greats such as Jim Baker, James Singleton, and Greg Ward. Black Duck"s debut is a testament to that fluency, an expedition led by three veterans into alluring worlds bathed in myriad splendors. Black Duck is a gallery of sonic tapestries, unbound by any genre constraints. Black Duck redefines what two guitarists and a drummer can do, pieces move from breezy shuffles to stormy blues rumbles to gorgeous textural drones. Playing entirely improvised live sets for years helped develop the trio"s acute senses for one another, knowing precisely how to listen to the others and bolster whatever direction they move in. In the short time the trio have played together, they have performed at Big Ears Festival and alongside acts like Yo La Tengo.

Sidekick is the evocative, uplifting and adventurous debut from London based producer and composer Chris Hyson. Chris's work as duo Snowpoet with vocalist Lauren Kinsella has earned him a formidable reputation as a producer with refreshing perspective and spot-on taste; his blending of sweet hook-laden vocal lines with warm and lush arrangements has sparked serious interest from many artists, most notably Jordan Rakei (Ninja Tune). Citing influences ranging from James Blake to Bjork and Radiohead, Chris' music is soaked with sun-drenched harmonies yet underwritten with darker sub-tones and a sense of melancholy that deeply enriches the music and emotional narrative. Powerful and compelling, Sidekick is a major new album with collaboration at its core, featuring incredible singers Frida Touray, Alison Sudol and Soren Bryce as well as instrumentalists Josh Arcoleo and Joe Webb.

Abstrakce recover this lost gem recorded in 1999 and published by Keliehor himself in a very short-run CD named "Create Music", which had almost no diffusion.

An outstanding collection of exotic tracks with a wide range of influences from primitive cultures all over the world. An unexplored region where the Minimalism concepts developed by Steve Reich, La Monte Young, or Terry Riley and renewed by Midori Takada meet Jon Hassell's 4th world ideas.

You will find here repetitive patterns that evolve and transform the sound space, unlikely instruments gathered together in a perfectly harmonic way, making flow an unusual melodic sense when the uncommon combinations of these instruments interact with one another. Simple instruments, yet exotic, primitive sound makers with complex personalities, timeless sound treasures unchanging a hundred years. Crude or sophisticated, most of the instruments, compel us to listen to them. A more flexible and wider range of tonality is discovered by limiting the number of instruments that play together and choosing those whose tones and harmonics resonate together.

The record results from a didactic project for nursery and primary school environments while searching for ideas to guide children in following the details of music. The music architectures are often transparent, even repetitive, but the culminative effect soon becomes more than that. These pieces are aural landscapes for dreams and adventures, doorways to imaginative worlds.

The Artists:

Jon Keliehor and Signy Jakobsdottir performed together in Seattle, Venezuela, and Scotland. During their stay in Seattle, both had studied gamelan music with Gamelan Pacifica under the direction of Jarrad Powell. After returning to Scotland, they continued to study and perform with Gamelan Naga Mas, in Glasgow, in projects directed by dhalang Joko Susilo, dancer/director Nyoman Wenten, and Professor Matthew Issac Cohen.

In Scotland, they created adult and children's workshops under the banner of Luminous Music. Preceding the formation of Luminous Music, Keliehor had worked as percussionist and composer with contemporary dance companies, both in London and Seattle. Following on studies in percussion music at Dartington College of the Arts, Signy moved to Seattle to begin work with Jon. The partnership that ensued brought them to Caracas, Costa Rica, Brazil and Spain to create music for the dance company DanzaHoy. In 1996, they returned to Glasgow, and continued to work together at the newly created Luminous Music Studios. Signy's involvement with musicians/groups has continued beyond this to include genres in Scottish/Celtic traditions, in Jazz, as well as music innovations of her own design.

In collaboration with Croatian label Sareni Ducan, Discom proudly presents an official reissue of a very rare self-titled album of Yugoslavian 80’s funk band Boom Selekcija.

Boom Selekcija was a short-living group of musicians from Belgrade, active from 1979 to 1983. They recorded their debut and only album for the label Diskos in 1983 and after that disbanded. The line-up included musicians from Boban Petrovic’s backing band and Silva Delovska from Kim Band on vocals. The quality of recorded material and the complete lack of information about the band set them as a cult act among DJs and crate diggers. This is one of the albums which makes you ask ”What is this?” when you hear it, but nobody around could tell you an honest answer.

A side of the record begins with a track called Moje Cake (eng. My Tricks). It is a groovy theme with mellow vocals-a story of the poser who thinks he is very interesting. The same groove continues in the song Rokenrol Štipaljke (Rock And Roll Easy Girls) where friends are preparing for a crazy go out in a discotheque. It ends in a Balearic atmosphere in the songs Studentski San ( eng. A Student’s Dream)- a song about dreaming luxurious life on the Adriatic coastline) and Vladina Gitara (eng. Vlad’s guitar)-a nice dreamy guitar instrumental in the 70’s Yugoslavian style.

Equally groovy and interesting B side portrays naive and charming 80’s Belgrade: discotheques, parties, girls, tough guys, urban stories about real-common people and their destinies … all packed with such style and grace like you are in New York City suburbs in the late ’70s and enjoy perfect funk/soul musicianship. In this sense, you can hear: amazing slap bass by Vladan Mracic in the song Zuljas Me ( eng. You Are Going To My Nerves); cool funky guitar licks by Aleksandar Stefanovic in the song Bora Klej; authentic soul singing style of Mile Perisic and beautiful electric piano solo of Oliver Polak in song Frizerka Nada (eng. Nada, The Hairdresser) and convincing funk rhythm drumming by Zoran SImovski all way through.

This record will remain a significant point for investigating Yugoslavian funk history and it will be welcomed on every dance floor in the world that favors lesser-known grooves. We hope that we will manage to bring it closer to the younger audience and show how people used to live and have a good time in Belgrade and Yugoslavia.

Naarm alchemists Sleep D's revelatory new synthetic 'Electronic Arts' is ready for circulation.

Having released 4 EPs of mind-altering club tackle since 2019's 'Rebel Force', the duo overcome second album syndrome, boiling down their chaos with a more developed sense of songwriting. Never banging one drum, 'Electronic Arts' mirrors the anything goes mania of their DJ sets, tactfully shifting through different sounds and styles. Tempos intensify and decelerate, at times pushing the threshold to 150 bpm from docile canine dreamscapes to full tilt Space Invaders in AR mind games.

Largely built on road tested material from their live performances, the album is a tangible Butter Sessions gathering, busting out the gate with Martian rave initiation Planet Waves, Outdoor System's polyrhythmic beatdown and the Orb-like hero dose affirmations of Sunrise In The Crater (I Exist). While 'Electronic Arts' is otherwise a self-dependent effort, Punch Drunk is brewed ever more potent by the hypnagogic vocals and lucid trumpet cycles of former futsal team member YL Hooi. Their unified energy incidentally manifests a profound matrix of ambient techno, motorik, Don Cherry and Everything But the Girl.

Also touching on apocalyptic doof and minimal, the album is not exclusively peak time with Maryos Syawish and Corey Kikos' specialty curveballs also playing their part. From Village To Empire finds the duo rooting down in Syawish's heritage with a tapestry of purposefully deployed Iraqi and Syrian ethnographic samples and field recordings, dubbed within range of Muslimgauze and On-U Sound. As minimal techno finale Textile trails off into footsteps wandering back to base camp with a satisfied exhale, one wonders where Sleep D's existential pathfinding could possibly take us next?

In the five years since Creep Show’s acclaimed Mr Dynamite album was released it’s fair to say that we’ve all been through a fair bit. Sitting here, in 2023, things don’t seem to be getting any better. There’s the cost of living crisis and political meltdowns; we're in deep water with global warming and to top it all there’s a war on our doorstep.

Back in 2018 everything seemed less complicated. Sure, there was stuff to get riled about, but we knew nothing about what was to come. Mr Dynamite was a fairground ride into the dark corners of a world that was on the brink of being blitzed in a blender. It was a record teetering on the edge. Five years down the line you’d expect the follow-up, Yawning Abyss, would double-down and bring the white-knuckled, teeth-gritted fury of the last five years to the boil. And yet….

A quick recap? No problem. Wrangler + John Grant = Creep Show. And Creep Show? “A band of musical misfits who have found a voice or two”, says Wrangler’s Ben “Benge” Edwards, whose Bond villain studio on the edge of a moorland is Creep Show Grand Central as well as home to an analogue synth arsenal that could sink ships.

Wrangler have known each other for a while. Tunng’s electronics wizard Phil Winter and Cabaret Voltaire’s trailblazing, pioneering frontman Stephen Mallinder go way back, while Phil and Benge crossed paths in the 21st century when they seemed to be increasingly in the same venues at the same times. Meanwhile, Mal had been living in Australia since the mid-90s and when, in 2007, he returned to the UK his old pal Phil suggested he meet Benge and the three of them immediately began working together.

Wrangler collectively bumped into Grant at their soundcheck for Sheffield’s Sensoria Festival in 2014 where they were playing with Carter Tutti. A friendship blossomed and when they were invited to perform together for Rough Trade’s 40th anniversary show at London’s Barbican in 2016, well, they jumped at the chance... and Creep Show was born.

Let’s talk about the new album... What is the ‘Yawning Abyss’? You might well ask. According to Mal, it’s “a cosmic event horizon that I can see from my attic window when stand on a chair”. Yeah. Thanks.

“On this album”, offers Benge, feet firmly on the floor, “Wrangler wrangled some vintage synths, mostly Roland, Moog, and the ‘Crystal Machine’ - then John Grant joined in the fun at Memetune Studios where lots of musical experiments were carried out. Then Mal and John ran off to Iceland with the master tapes and recorded a load of madcap vocals. Back at Memetune, me and Phil were left to try and make sense of it all. Which wasn’t hard because what they did in Iceland was totally magnificent.”

Which kind of brings us back to where we began. You’d imagine ‘Yawning Abyss’ would be blowing steam out of its furious ears. Mr Dynamite but kicking a wasps nest. Repeatedly. And yet…

Opener ‘The Bellows’ comes on like a modular ‘Radio Ga Ga’, the singalong ‘Moneyback’ (“You want your money back? / I didn’t think so”) sounds like Godley & Creme’s ‘Snack Attack’ meets Prince Charles And The City Beat Band (“Pennies, pounds, dollar bills, signed agreements, death wills”). ‘Yahtzee!’ is an unhinged electro breakdance party in four minutes and nine seconds.

Where Mr Dynamite was menace, a mélange of mangled voices, with Grant and Mallinder being heavily treated, pitched up or down, rendering their contributions largely indistinguishable, Yawning Abyss takes a more direct approach. You hesitate to say feelgood, but there’s a skip in the step here for sure.

The title track plays John Grant’s vocal straight. Completely. It’s good, so very good. Like ‘Axel F’ covered by Vangelis. The delicious shimmering synths of ‘Bungalow’ also plays those Grant pipes with a straight bat. ‘Matinee’ delves into darker, very funky territory. With Mal upfront it comes on like ‘The Crackdown’. Choice lyric: “You are starting to breakdown / And it’s so fun for me to see / You should have thought of that / You should have come prepared / You can see what’s happening and you look a little scared”.

So, you know, not all feelgood. But it does feel good. It’s probably best to draw your own conclusions... This is Creep Show after all.