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The Room will be Ricky Reed’s first artist album since becoming a house-hold-name producer, and launching his own label with Nice Life Recording Company. The project features Leon Bridges, Jim James of My Morning Jacket, Dirty Projectors, Terrace Martin, Duendita, Ayoni, Lido Pimienta, St. Panther & John-Robert and more. The Room is a title that came to him in the wake of the death of George Floyd and the galvanizing of the Black Lives Matter movement across America and the world. He wanted to create a communal place where it’s as necessary to cry as it is to rejuvenate; where it’s as vital to be angry as it is to find joy. The music is an invitation to share experiences, commiserate, rejuvenate, and offer hope. It is upbeat in places, meditative always, and has real soul to it. Ultimately, Reed feels fundamentally changed by quarantine, particularly with his process of creating. All the songs were written via text and voice memos. The Room feels like an offering to the world at a time when Reed was back in the process again. Back at a new start. “When this comes out, whether it is well or not, the only thing that matters is that I made it.”

The Debut Album From The Helicopter Of The Holy Ghost - Mark Morriss
( The Bluetones ) Billy Reeves ( theaudience ) Crayola Lectern ( Lost
Horizons / Departure Lounge ) Mark Peters ( Engineers ) Co-produced by
Richard Archer of Hard-Fi Feat. Simon Raymonde ( The Cocteau Twins ) &
Thomas Anderson ( Gazpacho )
In 2001 Billy Reeves, fresh from introducing the world to Sophie Ellis-Bextor
(via their band theaudience) was smashed to bits by joyriders whilst in his Morris Minor - resulting in a two-week coma and a year in and out of hospital. In
2017 his brother gave him two mini-discs that had been saved from the wreckage, including demos of songs he had forgotten - due to crash-related amnesia.
Mark Morriss of chart-topping Hounslow janglers The Bluetones agreed to sing
them, so with the assistance of Richard Archer (Hard-Fi), along with Crayola
Lectern (Zofff / Departure Lounge), and Mark Peters (Engineers), these songs
would form the debut long player from The Helicopter of The Holy Ghost.
The original concept for the material was probably while Billy was signed to
Sony, which pointed toward a more commercial sound, however Crayola Lectern’s involvement on piano help send the recordings into a more ‘Canterbury’
direction, taking influence from Caravan, Robert Wyatt & the like.
Featuring a groovy guest line-up including Simon Raymonde of Cocteau Twins,
Dale Davis from Amy Winehouse’s band, Andy Lewis from Paul Weller’s group,
Smiley from Joe Strummer’s Mescalaros and Thomas Anderson of fellow Kscope
signees Gazpacho, the wide-ranging influence herein is evident throughout a
very sweet, gentle, calming album of originality and versatility.
The Vinyl LP edition of this album will be especially printed in an eco-friendly
manner, with no shrinkwrap being used, the record itself pressed on 100% recycled records and the board made up of FSC certified climate-friendly recycled
material. The whole package itself will be Climate neutral, having all its carbon
offset with ClimatePartner.

Lift-top box including the first 10 numbered records and objects, with a 60-page exhibition style book, plus a bonus 12” single and 2CDs of unheard Joy Division interviews. Strictly limited and numbered to 4000 units WW.

Use Hearing Protection: Factory Records 1978-1979 contains facsimile editions of the first 10 numbered Factory items: 4 vinyl records, 3 posters, a short film, Factory stationery and an egg-timer design. The early history of the label is traced in a 60 page book with text by James Nice, photos by Kevin Cummins and archival interviews with Tony Wilson, Rob Gretton, Joy Division and more.

All 3 original Factory posters are contained in the box as well as the first 4 records: The Factory Sample EP (Fac 2), including the Fac2 stickers, All Night Party by A Certain Ratio (Fac 5), Electricity by Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark (Fac 6) and classic album Unknown Pleasures by Joy Division (Fact 10).

Bonus items include a white label 12” single by The Tiller Boys (originally intended as FAC3 but ultimately not released), and a lengthy audio interview with Joy Division, Tony Wilson and Rob Gretton, conducted in August 1979 by journalist Mary Harron, never before heard and now restored across two CDs. Also newly restored, and seldom seen since 1979, is evocative 8mm short No City Fun (Fac 9), featuring music by Joy Division.

It's not often that an album disavowed by its own author at the time of release goes on to become considered a modern classic. Yet that's exactly what happened with Chicago blues legend Howlin' Wolf's 1969 LP The Howlin' Wolf Album, a release that has since attained mythical status due to the controversy behind it. Released on Cadet Records, a subsidiary of legendary imprint Chess Records, The Howlin' Wolf Album was a radical experiment for a wellestablished artist: attempt to integrate electric instruments and psychedelic arrangements into his revered signature blues sound. The result was an album that Wolf himself initially disregarded on the nowinfamous cover, but one that has won a special place amongst dedicated music aficionados thanks to its unique mix of traditional blues and electric rock elements. Get On Down's reputation for high quality reissues continues with The Howlin' Wolf Album, which features a special Stoughton vinyl pressing with audio remastered from the original analog tapes for optimum sound quality and comes packaged in a paste-on style jacket featuring the album's famous original artwork. A1. Spoonful A2. Tail Dragger A3. Smokestack Lightning A4. Moanin' at Midnight A5. Built For Comfort B1. The Red Rooster B2. Evil B3. Down In The Bottom B4. Three Hundred Pounds Of Joy B5. Back Door Man

The first thing that strikes you when hearing 'Nosso' is its feeling of intimacy and warmth. The title, which means 'Ours' in Portuguese, is apt since he sees the record as the result of letting a wild variety of people into his world. João notes that 'I didn't know most of the collaborators before meeting up with them in a studio somewhere in the world, so most of these songs are coming from a very immediate and honest sense of collaboration where you spend an afternoon with someone learning about each other at the same time as you're making music. It's a shared experience, a moment where two or more people came up with ideas together, that they probably wouldn't have had if they were in their comfort zone.' These meetings were turned into songs at home in Lisbon once the main ideas were created collaboratively elsewhere. 'On this album, like in everything else I did so far, the focus on the instrumental side of things was experimenting with rhythmic patterns and genres from the Portuguese-speaking universe while applying them to songs created with other artists from completely different backgrounds and places.' There's something in this process that has left the album sounding super fresh as this is a sound without borders that pulls you in. It's music everyone can be a part of, where even the most rugged up-tempo cut sounds welcoming. It's an overwhelmingly positive and joyous experience to immerse yourself in 'Nosso.' It's no wonder that the central motif of the album artwork shows a less common view of Lisbon, one where instead of looking at the historic city centre we face the suburbs, where these musical and cultural experiments have been and still are occurring, undeniably shaping the musical and cultural landscape of Lisbon in the process. As much a soul record as it is a record infused with the beats of the Portuguese-speaking world, 'Nosso' is a reflection of Branko's ongoing musical explorations and his vision of Lisbon as a privileged cultural hub for the Portuguese-speaking world and beyond. Branko fuses local rhythms from kizomba to baile funk and afrohouse through European electronic genres with a clear accessible pop sensibility and the aim of creating a unified sound that puts all these individual musical expressions in perspective as part of a greater whole. For João, this is the logical next step in his musical evolution.

Some years ago I happened to see Paul Thorn performing on an outdoor stage at a street festival in the heart of a small Mississippi town. Suddenly, in mid song, Thorn stopped playing and looked down at the upturned, sugar-splattered face of a fan on the front row. “I sure would like me a funnel cake,” Thorn announced. The crowd exploded with laughter. By the end of the next song, someone in the audience had responded, and soon Thorn was happily munching on the doughy confection. And that, dear people, is one more shining example of how Paul Thorn is able to breathe in the air around him, everyday and commonplace, and exhale something original and often side-splitting funny. It’s a kind of genius, and it’s there plain to see, in his music, his art and through his performances, which not only showcase his chops as a singer-songwriter, but as a pitch-perfect improv comic. His audiences love it. And they come back for more because no two Paul Thorn performances are alike. For further confirmation of this, check out Thorn’s YouTube videos, though I warn you. You will find yourself a long time in this rabbit hole. We live in a world where the terms “artist” and “genius” have been rendered meaningless through overuse. To use either in describing Thorn, though, is not overreach. Pick up any of his dozen or so CDs. The evidence is plain to see. Just listen.

**LONG OVERDUE REPRESS - CLEAR VINYL 300 COPIES ONLY** “With Ela’s music I feel emotional, engaged… I can’t help but feel she’s always looking for a sense of belonging and it
seems to inform all the music that she makes. Glasgow must have more of that belonging feeling than most
cities because she’s spent the most time here, an exotic bird in a rainy city she maybe finds a lttle bit of comfort in. It’s
a pleasure to have her here, in this awful time to be living in Britain, her illuminations feel important and hopeful. A
stubborn light; someone making great timeless music out of the humdrum of the everyday.” - Stephen Pastel
Movies For Ears is a retrospective collection of works by Polish-born, Glasgow-based artist Ela Orleans which
navigates almost two decades of songwriting in the heart of the global pop underground. This remastered collection casts
an ear over what Orleans might call the ‘pop sensibility’ within her back catalogue. Released previously on a number of
small DIY labels, Orleans’ music coincided with the explosion of auto-didactic musicians finding their voice in the age of
the blogosphere, artists emboldened by the democratisation of music-making afforded by the internet. From the outset,
Orleans’ childhood studying formal music mixed with cut-up techniques, sampling, sound-art and experimentation to
create a distinctive signature cloaked in an innate melancholy and playfulness. Fully remastered by James Plotkin,
featuring extensive sleeve-notes and rare photos from Orleans’ archive, Movies For Ears presents an appraisal of the
musician’s work, painting a portrait of an artist with an uncanny ability to evoke emotions and ghosts of memories in the
listener.
Each song pulls sunshine from its surroundings, moments of pleasure plucked from eulogies. The Season employs a
hypnotic loop with Orleans’s prophetic voice heralding the season we’re doomed to repeat. In fact the singer is often cast
as the changing protagonist in her songs: on Walkingman, a hazy ballad heavy with ennui, the narrator is laden with the
world’s weight, forever pacing a groundhog day world blank, a pissed-off actor in a Kafka-esque melodrama. On Light At
Dawn we’re in a seedy kitsch bar-room go-go scene, a ghostly rock’roll romance with shimmering percussion, poledancing
in a Lynchian half-dream. Movies For Ears’ moods straddle memory and fantasy: scratchily invoking halfremembered
exotica, the flickering shadows of europhile cinemas screens, a delicately woven world anchored in Orleans
existential meditations on longing, intimacy, solitude and the search for love. These rich textures in every song don’t
overpower some crystalised moments of emotion however: on In Spring Orleans sings simply “I have been happy two
weeks together,” summarizing that feeling of elation when emerging from a depression, a long winter. It’s a moment that
perfectly illustrates the lightness of touch and clarity in the singer’s voice.
The power of the loop and Orleans’ weaving songwriting that breaks its spell is illustrated perfectly by I Know. Over an
aching chord progression, the vocal takes flight into bittersweet loneliness, Pachelbel’s Canon played at a wedding where
only one person shows up. The repeated refrain “I know, I know” ascends to the heavens as the chords descend to the
dumps and the listener is left in the middle, happy but not knowing why, maybe a little changed, two weeks together. On
Movies For Ears, Ela Orleans lets us into a secret: the rare moments of joy to be found in the joins of the loop, the spaces
between things, the spring after the winter are the moments that last after the day has faded.

Repress !

Where We're Calling From
The Liminal Zone: Reflections on Duval Timothy’s Sen Am
Lamin Fofana

Sen Am is an enduring and tender album, rich and beguiling and generous in a quiet way. Over the last few years, I find myself returning to it, listening and absorbing, reflecting on the voices and working through the multiple layers of feelings and themes it announces with confidence and equanimity. Notions of care and contradiction, expressions of joy and desire and the underlying feeling of unease and turmoil; there is an urgent appeal to the listener for generosity, to strengthen our capacity to hear multiple voices simultaneously, to exist in multiple places at once.

Duval Timothy’s music was dropped into our world from another realm sometime in the spring of 2017. We received the call and we answered it. The rhythm and spirit was transmitted via London’s NTS Radio on the Do!! You!!! Breakfast Show with Charlie Bones and a short while later we were listening to the first vinyl edition of Sen Am in our living room in Berlin. The record got a lot of plays (at home and at some shows, before and after performances). It was like sunlight filtering through a cracked window and remaining there for a moment, dancing. Blue music emanating from a liminal zone, an in-between space, somewhere on the outskirts of Freetown, or rural Sierra Leone, or the outer edges of South London, or Bath, UK, or some undisclosed orbit, unfixed location. The music is soaked in diasporic experiences. It refuses to settle but still invites us to enter and stay awhile in that zone, where multiple forms exist (all) together with jazz, hip-hop, various strands of expressive electronics and experimental music all breathing together and moving around. It is a portal to a place of possibilities, a space for building and repairing possible and lost connections. But life in that liminal zone is precarious; it is life under duress; under pressure – not merely the pressure to produce a presentable, categorizable, and salable body of work, but the pressure that compels us to experiment and create new concepts and things that will help us imagine a different existence, a way out of the turbulence.

Freetown is a marvellous and sometimes sad place. It is one of those unmistakable locations inscribed diasporic memory; a place that touches you, a place that holds you and demands you bear witness: witness to pain, poverty, joy and desire. You remember the voices and the eyes of people even in momentary encounters. In Sen Am, you hear not only Duval’s recollections and sounds of Freetown, you hear family and friendship, people coming together and forming bonds, creating surrogate families. Forging community wherever you go is a practice, and community is at the core of this music. It’s in all the voices, from Emmerson and 6pac to Aminata and Aruna. It opens up a space for Black voices, for Sierra Leonean voices, and those voices extend through the succeeding projects, the 2 Sim EP and the album Help, and all that radiates from Duval’s Carrying Colour imprint.

Thank you for the invitation to write about the album Sen Am, on the occasion of its re-release which also coincides with the release of the exquisite double 7” Smɔl Smɔl with cktrl — a wonderful piece which calls on the listener to play both records at the same time to hear the music or play them separately and hear different versions. Duval is strengthening us, encouraging us to feel comfortable with discomfort, with incompleteness, with the hard-to-understand. This is a beautiful thing.

The original Rio beach boy returns in style, with a new record of unabashedly feel-good Brazilian party music. Featuring Azymuth bassist Alex Malheiros (responsible for some of Brazil’s all-time funkiest low-end licks), a horn section including Valle’s go-to high-trumpeter Jesse Sadoc, and percussion master Armando Marcal, Sempre has all the masterful composition, exceptional musicality, and forward-thinking ideas you’d expect from the Brazilian titan, and it’s fresher than a fruity caipirinha in the Copacabana sunshine.

Updating Marcos Valle’s seminal boogie-era sound, Sempre spans ecstatic disco, cosmic samba, and late-night jazz-funk, drawing obvious comparisons to some of Valle’s late-seventies and early-eighties output. ‘Estrelar’ (1983), for example, an ode to the joy of exercise, has become one of the biggest Brazilian disco hits of all time. But lyrically the new album is more closely reminiscent of Valle’s progressive early seventies’ releases. Heralding love, tolerance and living in the present, while satirising political corruption, the new release recalls a time in which Valle, together with his brother Paulo Sergio, was writing subtly subversive lyrics in order to bypass the censorship imposed by the military dictatorship, which ruled over Brazil between 1964 and 1985.
The album marries compositional genius with pure pop perfection. From the blistering brass arrangements on up-tempo disco hit ‘Olha Quem ta Chegando’ and the infinitely classy ‘Vou Amanhã Saber’, to the nine-minute synth heavy instrumental funk stepper ‘Odisséia’, which gradually morphs into an interplanetary samba jam, the songs are tightened and given an extra coat of gloss, by London based producer Daniel Maunick (son of Incognito frontman Bluey). More moments of boogie delight come in the form of ‘Minha Roma’ (a musical nod to the famed ‘Estrelar’), and the sunshine anthem title-track ‘Sempre’.

Translating as ‘Ever’, Sempre is a testament to the continual drive for development and reinvention that has defined Marcos Valle’s astounding six-decade career. Ever changing, ever moving forward, he began as one of the second-wave of early bossa nova composers in the sixties, writing the world famous bossa standard ‘Summer Samba (So Nice)’ for his sophomore album ‘Samba 68’. After a brief stint in the States, Valle returned to Brazil, and the early ’70s saw the release of four ground-breaking Valle albums which incorporated progressive rock, psychedelic influences, pop, jazz, soul and cinematic arrangements. These albums would see Valle work alongside a number of hugely influential Brazilian bands, including Milton Nascimento’s backing band Som Imaginaro, the prog-rock band O Terco and jazz funk legends Azymuth. Returning back to the US in ‘75, Valle resided in LA, writing music for the likes of Eumir Deodato, Airto Moreira, Chicago, Sarah Vaughn and Leon Ware, before returning to Brazil once more, where after releasing a handful of hit pop records, he took a hiatus from recording.

Since the mid-nineties, Marcos Valle has been experiencing a renaissance with London based label Far Out Recordings, where his approach to music has remained, as always; decidedly open to new influences, possibilities and technologies. Sempre is Marcos Valle’s fifth album for the label, following 2010’s critically acclaimed Estatica.

Just in time for summer, Sempre is out on Vinyl LP/ CD on 28th June 2019 on Far Out Recordings, and Marcos Valle and band will be touring Europe in May /June (see below for dates).

A Colourful Storm presents Seance, a new set of songs by Maxine Funke.

Following a productive recording period beginning with Silk (2018) and ending with Forest Photographer (2020), Seance marks a remarkable levitation of Funke’s tender, softly spoken songcraft first documented on Lace (2008) and Felt (2012) into new creative heights. Folksong confessionals with the burden of memory. Ghostly confines, murmurs from the cracks. Soil, blood and skin. The beauty and mundanity of the everyday.

The voice of Funke is a distinctive instrument, one which perfectly elucidates her sometimes confessional, at other times deeply inward allusions to love, loss, joy and disquiet. Lyrics grounded in observation and adventure (“Eyeballs, asphalt, grass clippings, peppercorns”) unravel into uneasy truths daubed in self-consciousness and forbidden desire (“I’m not shy / There's just a sparkle in your eye and I don't feel right”). The simplest things can be the most difficult to express.

Opener ’Fairy Baby’ and ‘Homage’ are sensuous and probing, celebrating new beginnings while cautiously closing old chapters. ‘Quiet Shore’, a seven-minute reverie of guitar strum and poetry, conjures spirits long forgotten and shines as Funke’s first solo foray into longform songwriting. A perfect accompaniment to the album’s centrepiece, ‘Lucky Penny’, a euphoric, entrancing rush foreshadowing the delicate dreamspeak still to come.

An assertive, visionary recording by one of New Zealand’s most extraordinary voices, Seance is a lover’s lament, a revealing of self and a secluded wander through fields of enchantment.

Last autumn Leng Records welcomed a new name to the roster, Greek DJ/producer Lex, via some warming and colourful tracks on the label’s 10th Anniversary LP and sampler EP. Now the Athenian has returned with his first full release for Paul Murphy and Simon Purnell’s popular imprint.



Real name Alex Andrikopoulos, Lex first rose to prominence in his home city of Athens when he ran the Radical Soundz record shop during the first decade of the millennium. More recently his reputation has spread worldwide thanks to his association with Leng, a recent 12” on B2 Recordings and DJ sets that frequently join the dots between disco, house and techno.



His first full EP for Leng is arguably his most musically expansive collection of tracks to date, with a swathe of guest players – keyboardist Artis Boriss and drummer/percussionist Harold Perez most prominently – swinging by to help bring Lex’s vivid musical visions to life.



For proof, check out lead cut ‘Punta Allen’, an eight-minute chunk of organic dancefloor goodness in which Lex and his musical associates layer steel pan style melodies, spacey synthesizer flourishes, eyes-closed electric piano solos, warming chords and jangling guitars atop a heady bass guitar line, unfussy drums and sweaty pots-and-pans percussion. The track’s effortless evolution, which slowly unfurls before rising towards a gorgeous and joyous conclusion, is testament to the Greek producer’s dancefloor instincts.



You’ll find more low-slung, dub disco-influenced bass on the exotic ‘The Jamail Pass’, where mazy and feverish organ solos and rolling hand percussion provide a platform for Paqua member Alex Searle’s Nile Rodgers style guitar sounds. The track’s inherent funk – emphasized by occasional bass guitar solos and fills, as well as some tumbling synth sounds – is apparent throughout the track, something that only adds to its smile-inducing allure.



Closing out a very impressive first EP on Leng is ‘Angels of Rhythm’, a hazier, faster and more intergalactic excursion that cannily combines the low-slung bass of dub disco with the intoxicating vibes and warming dreaminess of deep house. The track’s intoxicating late-night feel is partly due to an undecidedly cosmic spoken word vocal from sassy singer Harrier Summer, though Artis Boriss’ pitch-bend-sporting synth solos and fizzing electronic noises certainly help. Driving but also deep and groovy, ‘Angels of Rhythm’ offers a memorable conclusion to a very impressive EP.

"Red Rocks 2020 covers an amazing range of music from Rateliff’s celebrated career, music that had never been performed together live before the ill-fated tour including several jewels from And It’s Still Alright, and Rateliff solo albums, In Memory of Loss, Falling Faster Than You Can Run and the Shroud EP, along with “Still Out There Running,” a haunting and urgent track from 2018’s much loved Night Sweats LP, Tearing at the Seams.
The stellar cast of musicians includes Rateliff (guitar) with fellow Night Sweats Joseph Pope III (bass), Mark Shusterman (keys), Patrick Meese (drums, keys, guitar) and Luke Mossman (guitar), along with James Barone (drums, guitar), Joy Adams (cello), Rachel Sliker (viola), Adrienne Short (violin), and Chris Jusell (violin).
In addition, close friend Kevin Morby joins Rateliff and the band here for an amazing version of Leonard Cohen’s “There Is A War”."

Cindytalk is the mercurial, expressionist outlet of Scottish artist Cinder. An evolution of her early 1980's Edinburgh-based punk band The Freeze, she launched the project upon moving to London, inspired by the crossroads of exploratory UK post-punk and early European industrial. Her work thrives on chance and transformation, collaging elements of noise, balladry, soundtrack, catharsis, and improvisation. After a series of celebrated albums for the Midnight Music label as well as collaborations with This Mortal Coil and Cocteau Twins, Cinder migrated to the United States, becoming involved with various underground techno collectives around the Midwest and West Coast. Subsequent relocations to Hong Kong and Japan further expanded Cindytalk's horizons, resulting in a fruitful partnership with Viennese experimental institution Editions Mego, for whom she released five albums of swooning, granular atmosphere. 2021 finds her as engaged as ever, at the precipice of long-awaited back catalog reissues alongside multiple new works, guided by her lasting love of discovery and deviation: “new pathways always being uncovered.”

Across decades of activity Cinder’s body of work has forever followed its own elusive muse but nowhere is this restless spirit more apparent and ambitious than the 4th Cindytalk LP, Wappinschaw. Conceived as “a call to arms” inspired by Scotland and its struggle for independence, the title refers to an archaic Scottish battle inspection during which clan chieftains surveyed their group's weapons to ensure they were combat ready. A mindset of reflective preparation threads throughout the record, manifested in forms both naked and noisy, ancient and anguished.

Opening with an aching solo vocal rendition of the British folk standard “The First Time Ever (I Saw Your Face),” the album then surges into the Cindytalk classic, “A Song Of Changes,” sparkling and spiraling in strange waves of sorrow and joy. From there the mood fragments, tracing asymmetrical paths of feverish dirge, pensive spirituals, noir abstraction, spoken word (landmark Glaswegian writer Alasdair Gray guests on “Wheesht”), bagpipe drone, and apocalyptic post-punk. Given its aggressive eclecticism, it's not surprising that Cinder describes the creation of Wappinschaw as a “precarious” process, composed from “scraps” with abruptly shifting personnel – a situation only compounded by the impending dissolution of their label at the time, Midnight Music.

Cindytalk is the mercurial, expressionist outlet of Scottish artist Cinder. An evolution of her early 1980's Edinburgh-based punk band The Freeze, she launched the project upon moving to London, inspired by the crossroads of exploratory UK post-punk and early European industrial. Her work thrives on chance and transformation, collaging elements of noise, balladry, soundtrack, catharsis, and improvisation. After a series of celebrated albums for the Midnight Music label as well as collaborations with This Mortal Coil and Cocteau Twins, Cinder migrated to the United States, becoming involved with various underground techno collectives around the Midwest and West Coast. Subsequent relocations to Hong Kong and Japan further expanded Cindytalk's horizons, resulting in a fruitful partnership with Viennese experimental institution Editions Mego, for whom she released five albums of swooning, granular atmosphere. 2021 finds her as engaged as ever, at the precipice of long-awaited back catalog reissues alongside multiple new works, guided by her lasting love of discovery and deviation: “new pathways always being uncovered.”

Across decades of activity Cinder’s body of work has forever followed its own elusive muse but nowhere is this restless spirit more apparent and ambitious than the 4th Cindytalk LP, Wappinschaw. Conceived as “a call to arms” inspired by Scotland and its struggle for independence, the title refers to an archaic Scottish battle inspection during which clan chieftains surveyed their group's weapons to ensure they were combat ready. A mindset of reflective preparation threads throughout the record, manifested in forms both naked and noisy, ancient and anguished.

Opening with an aching solo vocal rendition of the British folk standard “The First Time Ever (I Saw Your Face),” the album then surges into the Cindytalk classic, “A Song Of Changes,” sparkling and spiraling in strange waves of sorrow and joy. From there the mood fragments, tracing asymmetrical paths of feverish dirge, pensive spirituals, noir abstraction, spoken word (landmark Glaswegian writer Alasdair Gray guests on “Wheesht”), bagpipe drone, and apocalyptic post-punk. Given its aggressive eclecticism, it's not surprising that Cinder describes the creation of Wappinschaw as a “precarious” process, composed from “scraps” with abruptly shifting personnel – a situation only compounded by the impending dissolution of their label at the time, Midnight Music.

The prolific, Grammy Award winner, Jim Lauderdale has delivered another
batch of songs that further define him as one of the leading voices of
Americana music.
With his new album, Hope, Lauderdale has written 13 songs intended to inspire. Instead of pondering the sadness, fear and isolation the pandemic has
caused with so many around the world, he has instead focused on the optimism of the human spirit and highlighted that, as we always have, mankind will
get through this difficult time.
He has done this within a collection of songs that touch on country, rock, boogie rock, bluegrass and Jim’s own blend of far out space music.

There’s liberation on the dance floor in the songs of Matthew Urango – glimpses of revolution that glimmer beneath the disco ball. “I want my music to bring people together,” says the Californian pop innovator, best known as Cola Boyy. “Because standing together is our best chance at fighting this shit show.” The shit show in question is a broken, brutal system the acclaimed multi-instrumentalist has witnessed up-close. Urango was born with spina bifida and scoliosis in Oxnard, California: a town in which almost 30,000 are estimated to live in poverty. Prosthetic Boombox, his eagerly awaited debut album, might at first glance seem a joyous confetti-burst of pop eclecticism, engineered to sound like “scanning between stations on a car radio, landing on all these different sounds and styles” as Urango puts it. Dig deeper, though, and you’ll discover a simmering sense of rebellion. “The working class are injured, struggling to pay rent and struggling to put food on the table,” he says. “I want to represent that.” Prosthetic Boombox
achieves that goal in a thrilling flurry of inventive indie, funk and soul: take Urango’s car radio analogy, place it in a time-travelling Delorean with Prince in the passenger seat, and you’re half-way there.

Look no closer than Prosthetic Boombox’s euphoric opener, the Avalanches-assisted ‘Don’t Forget Your Neighbourhood.’ The track – which Urango says mixes “the Beach Boys, French disco, house keys and ragtime piano, kinda like the Cheers soundtrack!” – ends with lyrics urging listeners to “fight for your town with your fist closed, strike it and make it more than just a memory.” It’s a reminder that the working classes need to “turn our fists against our oppressors instead of each other,” he explains. After that emphatic introduction comes a horn-laced funk wig-out titled ‘Mailbox’ – a song that gives Dua Lipa’s Future Nostalgia a run for its Studio 54-themed money, featuring rising Londoner JGrrey. Elsewhere, ‘Song for the Mister’ ventures into smooth R&B territory, before ‘Roses’ – a collaboration with Myd of Ed Banger fame – offers a bouquet of bustling disco guitars and infinite bisous of Connan Mockasin’s band drops in on the immaculate ‘Go the Mile’. Urango saves his most introspective moment for the album’s starry closer. ‘Kid Born in Space’, a cosmic collaboration with MGMT frontman Andrew VanWyngarden, sees the artist reflect on what he once had to overcome as a disabled person of colour. “I see them looking down on my dreams of being,” he sings tenderly. “I hear them making fun of my voice, but I keep on moving forward, I refuse to live in anyone else’s shadow.” Prosthetic Boombox, on this subject, is more than an album title – it’s a statement of intent.

“The message of my music is that our class is exploited, oppressed and murdered on the daily. That’s not right, and the system that enables that deserves to be wiped off the face of the earth,” he says. “The only way that happens is if we’re united. That’s the point of my music – to relate to people and unite them.” And what unites more than raucous, irresistibly danceable pop? Prosthetic Boombox is a riot of joyous grooves and catchy hooks for good reason. “I want to reach and spread my message to as many people as possible. You can’t do that if you’re some obscure motherfucker, you know?” he laughs. Don’t bet on him being an “obscure motherfucker” for long.

From the many musical lives of artist Glenn Donaldson emerges The Reds, Pinks and Purples, a project that sifts out the purest elements of pop music and in the process chronicles the point of view of an assiduous San Francisco-based songwriter. The Reds, Pinks and Purples’ third album, called Uncommon Weather, is both an elusive portrait of San Francisco––during one of its fluctuations as an untenable place for musicians and artists––and also a self-portrait, however inverted, of a songwriter who has dispatched another treasured collection of timeless sounding DIY-pop songs.

How The Reds, Pinks and Purples arrived here is a story with many roots, the most consequential of which is perhaps the musical aftermath of his earlier band, The Art Museums, whose brief tenure in the late ’00s coincided with an explosive period of the Bay Area rock scene and was followed by a hermetic musical period of Donaldson’s. Disenchanted with the dissolution of his band, Donaldson averted the DIY-pop sound with an instrumental, conceptual project called FWY! but meanwhile started a habitual songwriting practice, sharing nascent songs with friends in an email exchange. In 2013–2014, The Reds, Pinks and Purples took shape as the moniker for Glenn’s most direct expressions in the DIY-pop mode, enabled by this new disciplined output. By then, San Francisco was already a changed place. The tragic loss of his former bandmate in Art Museums was another source of discontinuity and rupture. You can hear in The Reds, Pinks and Purples’ earliest songs this grappling with life, anxiety, and atrophying subcultures. For an artist with an overriding interest in the aesthetic principles of discrete musical genres, this turn toward his immediate world for subject matter was a major shift, setting The Reds, Pinks and Purples apart from Donaldson’s other musical ventures.

Preceding the release of Uncommon Weather was the Reds, Pinks and Purples’ 2nd album, one of the record buying joys of 2020, You Might Be Happy Someday, and, earlier, their first proper full length Anxiety Art, a title that might nod to the classic Television Personalities song “Anxiety Block.” Donaldson’s music continuously reckons with the influence of Dan Treacy, whose own forays into drum-machines, echo, and reverb in the early 1990s is an important reference point for The Reds, Pinks and Purples’ musical template. Paul Weller, Robert Smith, and Sarah Records also come to mind. But, as important, Donaldson sees his projects as visual expressions too, often blurring the lines of records and physical art objects. They could just as well be “art multiples” as well as records. The pattern for Reds, Pinks and Purples’ records is to document San Francisco’s Inner Richmond district in photographs: the muted, pastel colours and unpeopled compositions unfold in a series of images that read like counter-melodies to Donaldson’s distinctive voice, a vocal tone that always complements the colours.

Self-recorded and mostly self-performed, Uncommon Weather features pinnacle versions of songs Donaldson has honed since the beginning of the project. The album arrives with grateful timing, quick on the heels of You Might Be Happy Someday, and alleviating, for a brief window at least, whatever it is that keeps us coming back to this elemental music. Donaldson imagines his listeners are just like himself: fascinated and addicted to the spiritual power of uncomplicated pop classics. Anthony Atlas

Since making her debut with the 2011 album Weightless, singer/songwriter/multi-instrumentalist Becca Stevens has tested the limits of musical identity, mining everything from jazz to Irish folk to indie-rock in her striving for complete and authentic expression. In her latest musical endeavor—the five-track EP WONDERBLOOM and a soon-to-follow full-length of the same name—the North Carolina-bred, Brooklyn-based artist again defies all expectation, this time dreaming up a groove-heavy, dance-ready sound infused with elements of pop and funk and R&B. But despite its brighter textures and uptempo rhythms, WONDERBLOOM finds Stevens achieving a profound complexity in her lyrics, ultimately redefining what’s possible in creating music that elevates and edifies. Centered on the captivating vocal presence she’s showcased as a member of David Crosby’s Lighthouse Band, WONDERBLOOM telegraphs an unabashed joy that Stevens partly attributes to the project’s production. In a bold new turn for her musical career, Stevens co-produced and co-engineered WONDERBLOOM alongside Nic Hard (Snarky Puppy, Ghost-Note, The Church), overseeing every aspect of the recording and claiming a sense of agency that had long eluded her in the studio. “Nic and I were truly working as equals and trusting each other to get the job done, and it was an incredibly empowering experience for me,” she says. In another major departure, Stevens purposely brought a communal sensibility to the making of WONDERBLOOM —an undertaking that resulted in more than 40 musicians contributing to the album, including Vulfpeck guitarist Cory Wong, Jacob Collier, and all of her Lighthouse bandmates (i.e., keyboardist Michelle Willis, Snarky Puppy bandleader Michael League, and David Crosby himself).

Multi-instrumentalist/vocalist Dan Friel is unrivaled in his capacity to inject blistering noise and energy into ferocious pop songs. A champion and mainstay of the NYC underground, Friel the has played alongside the likes of Lightning Bolt and Black Dice as well collaborated with acclaimed string quartet ETHEL. Upper Wilds channels Friel's unbreakably ebullient spirit into mountainous rock music dripping with molten fuzz. The trio's exploration of the interstellar expands in parallel to their increasing levels of bombast and precision. Venus synthesizes the experimentation of debut Guitar Module 2017 and the thunder of 2018's Mars into ten lean chunks of cosmic rock laden with scorching hooks. On Venus, Upper Wilds rocket lovestruck anthems centered around the planet named for the Roman goddess of love at full tilt from the moment "Love Song #1" makes liftoff. The album's incendiary opening trilogy crashes with a relentless vigor and addictive melodies. The rhythm section of bassist Jason Binnick (who also mixed the album) and drummer Jeff Ottenbacher tear through off-kilter riffs that pound with meteoric impact. Friel's guitar sputters and froths beneath his voice before soaring into frenetic leads that pack every moment with powerful melody. Alien croons and glitching spasms spill out of Friel's wild, filtered humming, amplified into oblivion. Venus' few moments of respite lay bare the raw efficiency and beauty of Friel's songwriting, like transmissions home to loved ones thousands of miles away slipping through the crackle and chaos of space. Venus traverses the havoc, mystery, and joy of humanity's countless follies in both space and love. Both cosmic and human, Venus is a deeply affecting celebration of the wonders of what is beyond comprehension internally and externally. Upper Wilds' Venus is an exhilarating odyssey of tremendous exuberance and a testament to human resilience in the face of the unknown.