Buscar:night verses

A lot has been said and repeated about the interiority of this club music - how the joyful tremor of the "Raingurl" refrain holds hands with such soft and doubtful verses. How special it is that house music so of New York can contain storytelling cultivated so far away. That repetition is born of people all over the world going out, and staying in, with this music as a compass; songs that define so many late night hangs for crews of friends, singalongs in DJ booths, contemplative 5am walks home from the club. What can get lost in that repetition, in the shifting canonization of these recordings as symbols of any one scene or moment, is what was behind the pair of round glasses reflecting so tirelessly outwards. Yaeji, an exceptional friend only at the very beginning of finding her path as a cross-disciplinary artist and collaborator. Yaeji wrote this music while going out nearly every night of the week to DJ and support her own NYC community of friends at their turns behind the decks. These tracks originated from explorations in dancefloor anonymity, growing from seeds planted by sharing her first musical experiments online.

A lot has been said and repeated about the interiority of this club music - how the joyful tremor of the "Raingurl" refrain holds hands with such soft and doubtful verses. How special it is that house music so of New York can contain storytelling cultivated so far away. That repetition is born of people all over the world going out, and staying in, with this music as a compass; songs that define so many late night hangs for crews of friends, singalongs in DJ booths, contemplative 5am walks home from the club. What can get lost in that repetition, in the shifting canonization of these recordings as symbols of any one scene or moment, is what was behind the pair of round glasses reflecting so tirelessly outwards. Yaeji, an exceptional friend only at the very beginning of finding her path as a cross-disciplinary artist and collaborator. Yaeji wrote this music while going out nearly every night of the week to DJ and support her own NYC community of friends at their turns behind the decks. These tracks originated from explorations in dancefloor anonymity, growing from seeds planted by sharing her first musical experiments online.

After turning heads with the densely orchestrated Riddles, produced by Dan Deacon, the Baltimore-based duo Ed Schrader’s Music Beat have given us another giant leap forward with their fourth record Nightclub Daydreaming. The whiplash-inducing stylistic shifts between aggressive noise rock and operatic gloom pop that have become the band’s trademark have given way to a single aesthetic that fuses both impulses. On Nightclub Daydreaming, menace teems just below the surface as propulsive, stark arrangements leave space that Schrader fills with strident, reverb-soaked narration.

LIMITED GOLD VINYL w/ Download Card

When Ed Schrader and Devlin Rice began writing the record in 2019, the idea was to make a fun, danceable album, but an underlying moodiness proved unshakeable. As Schrader puts it, “The cave followed us into the discotheque.”

The duo road-tested the songs “This Thirst,” “Echo Base” and “Black Pearl” with drummer Kevin O’Meara on tour with Dan Deacon in February 2020. COVID restrictions cut the tour short, squashed plans to go immediately into the studio and sent the touring party on a sprint from LA to Baltimore. “We broke down outside Roswell,” Schrader recalls. “And these cops laughed at our dumb asses as we used all our pent-up stress and fear to propel our half-submerged bus out of the muck, yelling epithets to the sky.”

It was one of the last experiences they had with O’Meara, whose death in October 2020 weighed heavily on Rice and Schrader’s minds as they worked on the record. It was also a cathartic moment that presaged the aesthetic that would permeate the songs on Nightclub Daydreaming: “mad euphoria in the face of doom,” as Schrader puts it.

“This Thirst” is an alienation-fueled barn burner barely restraining itself through musically sparse, lyrically dense verses to culminate in a howling, synth-saturated chorus that beats horror punk at its own game. “Came from the north with a twisted planetarium, rock salt, nervous tic and novocaine,” Schrader sings, assuming the guise of a vagrant whose irresistible urges lead him through a fever dream of chemicals, back-alley bartering and existential threats.

The hyperactive “Echo Base” exudes agitated-cool, with breakneck drum fills and a relentless bass line. The narrator is stranded in a frozen landscape and running out of options. “She is just a night train away,” we are assured, and yet we sense that may not be an altogether good thing.

The band recorded and mixed Nightclub Daydreaming over a two-week period with Craig Bowen at Tempo House in Baltimore with David Jacober on drums, turning demos with artificial sounds and placeholder melodies into fully realized songs playable by a live band. The end result is not the album of “sunny disco bangers” that Rice says the band set out for, but something deeper, darker and more rewarding.

There is something magical about the synergy of the voices of a couple; they gel, they interweave, they lift each other. Remember classic duets sung by partners over the years; so much is said, more than just words.

'Warm You' is the collaboration between Mandaworld (aka Amanda Hicks) and partner Matthew Tavares (aka Matty of BADBADNOTGOOD fame). It is a song about your lover getting out of bed in the middle of the night because they can't sleep and you telling them to come back to where it’s warm and safe and they’re loved.

It was written in their Montreal apartment a few months after they moved in. Matty described the writing process "We just spontaneously decided to make music, and the idea came out pretty much immediately. I laid down some guitar and then Amanda played the synth line over it and I edited the guitar so the timing was more interesting. We worked on it for a few days getting the chorus and the verses to feel right and, for the most part, everything fell into place super intuitively. Amanda wrote the lyrics."

This heartfelt, dream-pop song, with a mellow shoe-gaze sensibility, lets the pair trade verses whilst the instrumentation builds to a crescendo and the duo's voices finally combine. Lush, passionate and personal, a beautiful song, rich in evocative memories.

On the ‘B-side’, Mandaworld takes centre stage. 'Spoonfeed' is a spacey synth bass-led ambient ballad with smokey hazy vocals, calming like a bubble bath. Produced with a timeless quality, the song leaves you with a sense of tranquility and a feeling of being submerged underwater.

Like all the best music this 7" is deeply personal, yet these are universal themes that are relatable to any listener as they recognise their own experiences within the mood of the songs.

Love returns with 'Lavender', the follow up to the Canadian crooner’s LP, 'Night Songs' (Taxi Gauche Records, February 2020).
A reflective timeline of dusty folk, 'Lavender' aims to capture the modern loneliness of the 21st century. A sorrowful soundtrack, inspired by the production of great crooners and folk artists of the 70s/80s like Cohen, Lightfoot, and Nick Drake, to name a few, Love achieves a similar quality on Lavender. Like a Chris Isaak trapped in a David Lynch film, Love’s haunted
vocals guide the listener through poetic verses on the archetypes of love and truth, posthumous poetry by his grandfather circa 1930s, and escapism, all melting and flowing into a pool of celestial wisdom.
Acoustic guitars sweep across desolate sonic landscapes of global narcissism, social media and the universal need for connection. Hypnotic bass grooves and lush 3D string ensembles, wrap the listener in a familiar cinematic romance, embraced and mystified. 'Lavender' explores the universal threads that make us feel and experience what we do, in a time when the need to peer into ourselves has never been more important. 'Lavender' draws you inwards, like staring up at the stars at night, or standing alone with the silence of the forest, 'Lavender' wants you to find your own meaning. Self-recorded in a variety of spaces through out Turtle Island (Canada & The USA). Specifically, Toronto Island, a basement in Edmonton, AB, various apartments and motels in Los Angeles and around the United States, on a road trip west via the Trans-Canada highway and ending at a cabin in the foothills of the Rocky Mountains.


“There’s a lonesome vibe to his brand of heartland rock, evoking late nights on a deserted road, or neon-lit streets just after a rainstorm.” (Brooklyn Vegan)

It may be his fifth album, but Saturday Night, Sunday Morning marks the start of chapter two for Jake Bugg. Arguably his most complete and coherent record to date, Saturday Night, Sunday Morning manages to combine a love of ABBA, the Beach Boys, Supertramp and the Bee Gees, with a contemporary pop sound: one that’s already spawned his most ubiquitous song in years via euphoric lead single, All I Need. “I knew what I was looking for this time around,” the 27-year-old says, firmly. “And I feel like I accomplished it.” It’s almost 10 years since a two-fingered Bugg burst onto the scene with his eponymous debut, one that topped the UK album charts and saw the then 18-year-old from Nottingham fêted as the next Bob Dylan. A Rick Rubin-produced follow up, Shangri La, quickly followed. But progress stalled with Bugg’s third, largely self-produced, record, On My One, in 2016. “I was having a hard time on that third record,” Bugg admits, five years removed. “The support from the industry wasn’t what it was. All those people telling you how great you are weren’t there anymore. It does feel like the rug’s been swept from under your feet.” What that record provided, however – along with its comparatively stripped-back follow up, Hearts That Strain (2017) – was a much-needed course corrector: one that set Bugg on the upward trajectory he finds himself on today. “When I came to terms with that was when I left the ego at the door,” he says. “It didn’t work out. But it led here. And this is probably my strongest record." It’s testament to Bugg’s rediscovered confidence that Saturday Night, Sunday Morning – a nod to the debut novel by Nottingham author Alan Sillitoe – sees him working with some of his highest profile collaborators to date, most notably American songwriters Andrew Watt and Ali Tamposi, best known for their work with pop heavyweights Post Malone, Dua Lipa, Miley Cyrus, Camila Cabello. “I was looking for how I can incorporate my sound for a more modern era. And I kind of struck gold working with Andrew Watt and Ali Tamposi,” Bugg says. Convening in LA, the first track the trio wrote together is the jealousy-inflected About Last Night, a song about the “insecurities you go through as a young person in a relationship with someone.” “It’s got such dark undertones, which I love,” Bugg says, of a song that showcases a newly discovered, Beach Boys-esque falsetto. “But it’s also very, very pop. That’s what I’ve always loved. With ABBA, with Supertramp. I love pop music. But when you can get it to be dark, I love it even more.” It’s a trick the trio repeated again on Scene, Bugg’s personal favourite from the album and a song that best encapsulates the combination of old and new: Watt’s George Harrison-esquire guitar brushing up against contemporary melodic choices by Tamposi. “I love writing with her,” Bugg says of the Havana hitmaker. “She brought that women’s perspective. And I knew that I’d got that balance of what I wanted. That old school chorus with contemporary verses. That to me was my favourite song when I wrote it, and it still is.” Perhaps the biggest example of Bugg’s newfound ego-less approach to writing, however, came in the shape of Downtown, a song that grew from an idea by Jamie Hartman (Celeste, Lewis Capaldi, Rag'n'Bone Man), and sees Bugg deploy the higher range of his voice to ethereal, ’60s Bee Gees effect. “Usually, the initial spark of an idea comes from me. And when it doesn't, it sometimes loses my attention,” Bugg admits. On Downtown, however, he relished his role as arranger: “Because there were a lot of moving parts and chords, it was almost like a puzzle,” he says. “I’d never approached a song like that before. “What I’ve been enjoying on this record is the collaborative process,” he continues. Working with people, writing with people. Because I’ve realised all I really want to achieve is to be the best writer I can possibly be. And I think by working with other people, it allows you to learn a lot as well.” It’s a theory Bugg has put to the test during lockdown, when he was approached by his manager about writing the soundtrack to an upcoming documentary, The Happiest Man In The World, about Brazilian footballer Ronaldinho. “It’s kind of a completely different experimental outlet,” Bugg explains of his first ever score. “I approach my own work quite professionally. But with this I can just switch off and go into a different world. And it’s been brilliant – I’ve had to learn different styles of guitar: bossa nova, samba. It’s a bit Vangelis, who’s probably my favourite artist – which may surprise people.” Possibly. But you get the impression that surprising is what Bugg likes to do. “I don’t like to be stuck doing the same thing,” he admits. “And that’s what this record Saturday Night, Sunday Morning was. I wanted to push myself. I’m always learning new influences. I’m careful not to get stuck on the same thing. “It’s not going to be right every time. It’s not going to be good every time,” he continues. “But if that’s the process it takes to get to this record, where people are loving the songs again, then that’s the journey we have to take.” For Jake Bugg, chapter two starts now. New album ‘Saturday Night, Sunday Morning’ is out August 20th on RCA Records

Straight Outta Caledonia is the first commercially available “Greatest Hits” of the outsider songwriter Jackie Leven, an artist
who has largely remained in obscurity in his native Scotland despite being one of the greatest wordsmiths – and singers – it ever
produced. A well-travelled musician who began making psychedelic, progressive music in the late 60s before emerging as an
epic storyteller full of pathos, humour and humanity in the 90s, Leven lived and wrote like many of the fragile, gregarious
characters of his songs; large, full of life and empathy. Leven passed away in 2011 after recording 30+ albums under different
guises or with his briefly successful New Wave band Doll by Doll. Straight Outta Caledonia is a compilation collated by Night
School Records on its Archival label School Daze that seeks to introduce Leven’s music to new generations.
In an age of isolation, alienation and loss of visceral experience, Jackie Leven’s music can be massive and welcoming. It feels
connected to some universal humanity and vibrates with vitality. His songs are often full of tragedy and comedy simultaneously,
cutting straight to the heart, often plugging directly into the nervous system of the listener. His lyrics are rich, dense with imagery
that can veer from apocalyptic to the comically banal in a sentence, with a songwriting panache that can be heavy handed to
almost bursting point before skewering the song with a clownish, warm punchline. His productions ranged from Bob Dylan’s
Rolling Thunder Revue style rock band orchestrations with strings and organ as on the epic Ancient Misty Morning or they could
be pared down to the purest form of folk song as on Poortoun: Leven on stage alone with an acoustic guitar, albeit played with a
mastery of the instrument that he often only hinted at. Musically his sound can bend traditional structures or stay completely
confined within them yet still forever push towards an ecstatic release, as on the cinematic Snow In Central Park.
The most exciting, jaw-droppingly effective tool at Leven’s disposal was his voice. A multi-octave instrument that, though
damaged during a savage assault in Fife, he used with flair; he had both a brazen disregard for the rules and a deep humility, all
of which is evidenced with every phrasing. A baritone that could flit up through the register – always touched by his gentle
Kirkcaldy accent – it’s the prime delivery method for his songs. Leven’s voice enabled him to inhabit the characters in his songs to
an uncanny degree, a skill that in turn enables the listener to empathise with them and, subsequently, the singer. It’s most evident
in stand out song The Sexual Loneliness Of Jesus Christ, a breathtaking re-telling of the life of its protagonist, not as a pure,
sinless messiah but as a sexually frustrated, solitary man condemned to an existential loneliness no one else will ever feel. In
many ways the track is the archetypal Jackie Leven song. Produced by Pere Ubu’s David Thomas, what strikes the ear first –
after the samples of unemployed workers in Glasgow following the closing of the Clyde shipyards – is the audacious, rhythmic
tremolo effect Leven employs through the verses before the production opens up to allow Leven’s vocal to lift into a soar, a
freeing glide powered both by the force of the singer’s chutzpah and the inherent, doomed destiny of the protagonist. With any
other singer such subject matter could come across as gauche or worse, pretentiously sonorous, but Jackie Leven’s genius was
such that he could be this cinematic and brazen while touching something elemental and true in the beholder. It’s a skill evident in
every song on Straight Outta Caledonia, the trademark of a songwriter who revelled and excelled in intensity with a lightness of
touch.
In his lifetime, Jackie Leven toured, wrote and recorded at a ferocious rate. He recorded under aliases to avoid record contract
restrictions, played house shows in Europe after or instead of official concerts, events which were often spoken word story telling
masterclasses as well as performances of his often bewilderingly dense songbook. His music has traditionally been catalogued
as “folk” music and has been largely banished to a small, dedicated group of international fans and apostles both private and well
known, like author Ian Rankin or Glenn Matlock. Since his passing in 2011 however, there has been a growing recognition
amongst a newer generation, with artists like James Yorkston or Molly Nilsson publicly stating the influence of the unsung
troubadour on their own craft. Jackie Leven’s fairytales for hard men are often forensic deconstructions of masculinity, sad and
ecstatic, light and shadow, always endlessly rich, a resource as bountiful as Leven himself’s human spirit undoubtedly was.

Surrender is the debut full length from DJ, producer, and songwriter Endgame. Stepping out for the first time as a vocalist, and lyricist, Surrender is his most ambitious and vulnerable work to date; a striking statement of intent, with moments of beauty and brutality. Endgame has carved an iconoclastic niche in club culture. Breaking into the scene as co-founder of the legendary collective Bala Club, and resident of the radical club-night Endless. Whilst continuing almost a decade hosting his infamous NTS radio show (and now label) Precious Metals, he has forged a path against the tide of formulaic club music. A visionary DJ and producer, Surrender sees Endgame continue this trajectory, with a project that both amplifies the ferocious club constructions he's known for, whilst making space to open up wounded memories and with sombre unfeigned requiems. Having previously released records on Hyperdub, PTP, Golden Mist and Infinite Machine, Endgame's first release on his own Precious Metals imprint, is him at his most reflective. Surrender is a deeply personal record, about loss and finding meaning in despair. Death is a prevailing theme, with the passing of his father a totemic subject. The recollection of his father's torturous final moments leaves him to mournfully contemplate temporality. Using this sense of anguish, he blurs reality-creating a world where angels and demons are among us in a decaying cityscape; akin to the work of Todd McFarlane. The opener Faithless, propels us into this world, with the slow build of industrial precision amidst the sombre build of harsh melodic synths. We descend deeper into this vision with Barbed Heart, featuring a defining vocal from scene staple and long time collaborator Yayoyanoh, as 808's and skittering hi hats ricochet off one another beneath his bass driven vocal. No Heroes continues our journey into the unknown with a chaotic rush of acidic riffs, pounding percussion, and a reference to the brutalist anthem from hardcore punk band Converge (where the track borrows its name). Requiem acts as the turning point of the record as Endgame steps into the foreground as a vocalist. As the name suggests, this lament is a sombre reflection of grief; its minimalist instrumental allows Endgame's haunted verse to rise into the foreground, like an apparition amidst the smoke in the depths of a dimly lit club. The dark clouds fade into the distance in Exhumed, as the elegant melancholic vocal of Bala Club affiliate and gifted vocalist Organ Tapes reflects off Endgame's sanguine verses bringing hope into the heartfelt instrumental filled with melodic flourishes and bass-bin rattling subs. The thematic haze thickens in Abyss, as the pulsating and doom laden instrumental interweaves with Endgame's sepulchral vocal. Like a message from the void, his words act as an agnostic hymn that pulls apart his sense of self. The contrast of his plaintive verse with the intensity of the instrumental creates a contrast that is symbolic of the record itself, a duality that presents moments of soft reflection against a severe sonic palette to create moments of transcendence.

Bad Colours is the moniker of London-born, Maryland-raised, Brooklyn-based DJ and producer Ibe Soliman. With influences of garage from both sides of the Atlantic as well as funk, post-disco, proto-house and rap samples; his debut album 'PINK' is set for release by Bastard Jazz on 26th February 2021.

The drive to record an album came about while isolating at home in Flatbush during the COVID-19 pandemic. Inspired by some rough ideas and samples that friends sent him, Ibe focussed his attention on making music. From time well spent soaking up and storing sounds from clubs around the world, Ibe found, now with the time to dedicate towards it, the tracks flooding out. Taking cues from early Trax records and Larry Heard, the UKG musicality of MJ Cole, Todd Edwards' vocal sampling techniques, the brashness of Bmore, and an encyclopedia of disco, funk and soul knowledge; Ibe got to work and quickly compiled more than enough tracks for a full-length release.

Flowing from the album intro 'PINK!', first single 'Cookin' vibes over a Chris Faust sample and saxophone from south California virtuoso Carras Paton. 'Feelin' Like' was originally built around a short vocal sample by Jarv Dee, but grew to include additional lyrics on black power from the Seattle rapper after he heard it: "Dancey stuff with a message" says Ibe.

Slow jam 'Heyyy', with its preemptive lyrical synths, bridges to the album's next single 'Get You Off'. Ibe had been listening to a lot of Marvin Gaye - particularly 'I Want You' - during lockdown, getting into the production and vocals. After writing the "I just wanna get you off" hooks, he handed the track over to talented singer, actor and playwright Marcus Harmon who wrote the verses and provided the stunning vocal performance.

Keeping the sensual vibe, 'Skin To Skin' samples vocals from 'Private Play' by Wash 'N' Set, also produced by Ibe, with the Chris Isaak-esque guitar lines by Lex from Foreign Tapes. Made late at night, CMYK reminded Ibe of driving at night in the rain in NYC, where the colors bleed together on the wet road while 'Boss', the first track made for the album, is based around a Sunny Jones sample. The closing track 'Feel' was made at the peak of Black Lives Matter protests. "I just wanted something hard sounding," says Ibe.

Known for his residencies at some of New York's top venues, Ibe has been rocking crowds as a DJ for over a decade, and has shared the decks with the likes of James Murphy, Mark Ronson, and Q-Tip. He's performed alongside Wiz Khalifa, Snoop Dogg, Pusha T, and Young Thug, to name a few. In high demand as a private party curator, he's helped set the tone for Jeff Koons, FKA Twigs, Justin Timberlake, Travis Scott, and Usher. When Ibe's not behind the decks, he's in the lab, where he's produced for Kendrick Lamar, Faith Evans, Keyshia Cole, and Rick Ross, among others.

Caiphus Semenya, AKA Mr Letta Mbulu, is a South African legend, and Listen To The Wind, his iconic debut album, is simply a superb modern-soul/boogie album. It’s also incredibly rare, especially in good condition, so Be With is delighted to present this reissue.

Now a revered composer, musician, and arranger, Caiphus left apartheid South Africa in the 60s for self-imposed exile in Southern California together with his wife, Letta Mbulu. Settling in Los Angeles he started working with the likes of Hugh Masekela and Miriam Makeba and other exiled and semi-exiled South african artists, as well as, of course, his wife Letta.

Caiphus also found himself working with and composing for a broad range of jazz and pop artists, including Lou Rawls, Nina Simone and Cannonball Adderley. His facility with both jazz and African forms served him well. His LA stay was also the beginning of an ongoing collaboration with Quincy Jones, the fruits of which can be tasted in Caiphus’s African compositions for the scores to Roots and Spielberg’s adaptation of The Color Purple.

Given his decades of work behind the scenes, it’s no surprise that it took until 1982 for Caiphus to get around to putting out the first album of his own. But all that experience shows. Listen To The Wind is a deeply impressive synthesis of early 80s US production and instrumentation together with his traditional South African musical roots.

It’s stylistically diverse but the ingredients are never diluted. There are elements of boogie, soul, funk and jazz, all shot through with pan-African flavour, and moving effortlessly from uptempo floor fillers to more meditative, slower soulful tracks. Produced by Caiphus himself, he makes full use of a stellar line up of session musicians including Nathan East, Michael Stanton, Sonny Burke and Paulinho DaCosta. And of course, there are Letta’s show-stopping vocals. To our ears, Listen To The Wind is just one big party, and lord knows we need that more than ever right now.

Opener “Angelina” is one of Caiphus’s most beloved tracks at Be With HQ. It’s a breezy, feel-good SA boogie-funk classic. Harmonic and horn heavy, it sounds as fresh today as it would’ve done in the early 80s. If this one doesn’t make you move, you may need your pulse taking. The drum breakdown alone, a little over halfway through, is sensational.

It’s followed by the gentle reggae lilt of “Play With Fire”. A real melodic slo-mo delight, carried by the tropical vibes and, above all else, by the extraordinary performance of Caiphus himself and his backing singers.

Closing out side one, the spectacular “Umoya” is driven by triumphant horns and slick bass. With its proto-Graceland vibes, we reckon Paul Simon must’ve been listening. Hard. Caiphus trades verses with the unmistakable tones of Letta, and it sounds divine. Yes, it’s as good as anything on Letta’s canonical In The Music… The Village Never Ends. A wide-eyed wonder, made for unity and togetherness, it’s all infectious, smiling faces for nearly nine minutes. But never mind nine, we could party to this for ninety minutes and “Umoya” would leave us re-energised for ninety more.

Elegantly firing up side two is perhaps the album’s best known track. “Without You” is a heavenly slice of modern soul, an end-of-nighter to end them all. Smooth strutting, disco-fied funk with that unmistakably South African sound, it’s just sublime, with those lyrics that keep coming back to smiling faces and community, “without You the sun won’t shine”. Big with the likes of Rush Hour’s Antal, this is aural perfection.

“Ziph’inkomo” is a soul-soothing, swooning epic. Gently building throughout, its final few minutes are genuinely stirring as the backing vocals and instrumentation swell. Jaw-dropping. The irresistible groove of frantic, percussive workout “Gumba Boogie” closes out what must surely be one of the greatest artistic statements of the 1980s. If his friend Quincy wasn’t feverishly taking notes for Thriller, then you could’ve fooled us.

With Simon Francis handling the mastering of this Be With edition, you know it sounds as fantastic as ever. The cover art, as breezy as the music, has been faithfully restored. All that’s missing is you.