Buscar:non person

As the sun sets on a quaint East Nashville house, a young man bares a piece of his soul. Facing the camera, sporting a silky suit jacket/shirt/slacks/fingerless gloves ensemble that announces "singer" before he's even opened his mouth, Lee Tracy Johnson settles onto his stage, the front yard. He sways to the dirge-like drum machine pulse of a synth-soaked slow jam, extends his arms as if gaining his balance, and croons in affecting, fragile earnest, "I need your love… oh baby…"

Dogs in the yard next door begin barking. A mysterious cardboard robot figure, beamed in from galaxies unknown and affixed to a tree, is less vocal. Lee doesn't acknowledge either's presence. He's busy feeling it, arms and hands gesticulating. His voice rises in falsetto over the now-quiet dogs, over the ambient noise from the street that seeps into the handheld camcorder's microphone, over the recording of his own voice played back from a boombox off-camera. After six minutes the single, continuous shot ends. In this intimate creative universe there are no re-takes. There are many more music videos to shoot, and as Lee later puts it, "The first time you do it is actually the best. Because you can never get that again. You expressing yourself from within."

"I Need Your Love" dates from a lost heyday. From some time in the '80s or early '90s, when Lee Tracy (as he was known in performance) and his music partner/producer/manager Isaac Manning committed hours upon hours of their sonic and visual ideas to tape. Embracing drum machines and synthesizers – electronics that made their personal futurism palpable – they recorded exclusively at home, live in a room into a simple cassette deck. Soul, funk, electro and new wave informed their songs, yet Lee and Isaac eschewed the confinement of conventional categories and genres, preferring to let experimentation guide them.

"Anytime somebody put out a new record they had the same instruments or the same sound," explains Isaac. "So I basically wanted to find something that's really gonna stand out away from all of the rest of 'em." Their ethos meant that every idea they came up with was at least worth trying: echoed out half-rapped exhortations over frantic techno-style beats, gospel synth soul, modal electro-funk, oddball pop reinterpretations, emo AOR balladry, nods to Prince and the Fat Boys, or arrangements that might collapse mid-song into a mess of arcade game-ish blips before rallying to reach the finish line. All of it conjoined by consistent tape hiss, and most vitally, Lee's chameleonic voice, which managed to wildly shape shift and still evoke something sincere – whether toggling between falsetto and tenor exalting Jesus's return, or punctuating a melismatic romantic adlib with a succinct, "We all know how it feels to be alone."

"People think we went to a studio," says Isaac derisively. "We never went to no studio. We didn't have the money to go to no studio! We did this stuff at home. I shot videos in my front yard with whatever we could to get things together." Sometimes Isaac would just put on an instrumental record, be it "Planet Rock" or "Don't Cry For Me Argentina" (from Evita), press "record," and let Lee improvise over it, yielding peculiar love songs, would-be patriotic anthems, or Elvis Presley or Marilyn Monroe tributes. Technical limitations and a lack of professional polish never dissuaded them. They believed they were onto something.

"That struggle," Isaac says, "made that sound sound good to me."

In the parlance of modern music criticism Lee and Isaac's dizzying DIY efforts would inevitably be described as "outsider." But "outsider" carries the burden of untold additional layers of meaning if you're Black and from the South, creating on a budget, and trying to get someone, anyone within the country music capital of the world to take your vision seriously. "What category should we put it in?" Isaac asks rhetorically. "I don't know. All I know is feeling. I ain't gonna name it nothing. It's music. If it grabs your soul and touch your heart that's what it basically is supposed to do."

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Born in 1963, the baby boy of nine siblings, Lee Tracy spent his earliest years living amidst the shotgun houses on Nashville's south side. "We was poor, man!" he says, recalling the outhouse his family used for a bathroom and the blocks of ice they kept in the kitchen to chill perishables. "But I actually don't think I really realized I was in poverty until I got grown and started thinking about it." Lee's mom worked at the Holiday Inn; his dad did whatever he had to do, from selling fruit from a horse drawn cart to bootlegging. "We didn't have much," Lee continues, "but my mother and my father got us the things we needed, the clothes on our back." By the end of the decade with the city's urban renewal programs razing entire neighborhoods to accommodate construction of the Interstate, the family moved to Edgehill Projects. Lee remembers music and art as a constant source of inspiration for he and his brothers and sisters – especially after seeing the Jackson 5 perform on Ed Sullivan. "As a small child I just knew that was what I wanted to do."

His older brother Don began musically mentoring him, introducing Lee to a variety of instruments and sounds. "He would never play one particular type of music, like R&B," says Lee. "I was surrounded by jazz, hard rock and roll, easy listening, gospel, reggae, country music; I mean I was a sponge absorbing all of that." Lee taught himself to play drums by beating on cardboard boxes, gaining a rep around the way for his timekeeping, and his singing voice. Emulating his favorites, Earth Wind & Fire and Cameo, he formed groups with other kids with era-evocative band names like Concept and TNT Connection, and emerged as the leader of disciplined rehearsals. "I made them practice," says Lee. "We practiced and practiced and practiced. Because I wanted that perfection." By high school the most accomplished of these bands would take top prize in a prominent local talent show. It was a big moment for Lee, and he felt ready to take things to the next level. But his band-mates had other ideas.

"I don't know what happened," he says, still miffed at the memory. "It must have blew they mind after we won and people started showing notice, because it's like everybody quit! I was like, where the hell did everybody go?" Lee had always made a point of interrogating prospective musicians about their intentions before joining his groups: were they really serious or just looking for a way to pick up girls? Now he understood even more the importance of finding a collaborator just as committed to the music as he was.

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Isaac Manning had spent much of his life immersed in music and the arts – singing in the church choir with his family on Nashville's north side, writing, painting, dancing, and working various gigs within the entertainment industry. After serving in the armed forces, in the early '70s he ran The Teenage Place, a music and performance venue that catered to the local youth. But he was forced out of town when word of one of his recreational routines created a stir beyond the safe haven of his bohemian circles.

"I was growing marijuana," Isaac explains. "It wasn't no business, I was smoking it myself… I would put marijuana in scrambled eggs, cornbread and stuff." His weed use originated as a form of self-medication to combat severe tooth pain. But when he began sharing it with some of the other young people he hung out with, some of who just so happened to be the kids of Nashville politicians, the cops came calling. "When I got busted," he remembers, "they were talking about how they were gonna get rid of me because they didn't want me saying nothing about they children because of the politics and stuff. So I got my family, took two raggedy cars, and left Nashville and went to Vegas."

Out in the desert, Isaac happened to meet Chubby Checker of "The Twist" fame while the singer was gigging at The Flamingo. Impressed by Isaac's zeal, Checker invited him to go on the road with him as his tour manager/roadie/valet. The experience gave Isaac a window into a part of the entertainment world he'd never encountered – a glimpse of what a true pop act's audience looked like. "Chubby Checker, none of his shows were played for Black folks," he remembers. "All his gigs were done at high-class white people areas." Returning home after a few years with Chubby, Isaac was properly motivated to make it in Music City. He began writing songs and scouting around Nashville for local talent anywhere he could find it with an expressed goal: "Find someone who can deliver your songs the way you want 'em delivered and make people feel what you want them to feel."

One day while walking through Edgehill Projects Isaac heard someone playing the drums in a way that made him stop and take notice. "The music was so tight, just the drums made me feel like, oh I'm-a find this person," he recalls. "So I circled through the projects until I found who it was.

"That's how I met him – Lee Tracy. When I found him and he started singing and stuff, I said, ohhh, this is somebody different."

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Theirs was a true complementary partnership: young Lee possessed the raw talent, the older Isaac the belief. "He's really the only one besides my brother and my family that really seen the potential in me," says Lee. "He made me see that I could do it."

Isaac long being a night owl, his house also made for a fertile collaborative environment – a space where there always seemed to be a new piece of his visual art on display: paintings, illustrations, and dolls and figures (including an enigmatic cardboard robot). Lee and Issac would hang out together and talk, listen to music, conjure ideas, and smoke the herb Isaac had resumed growing in his yard. "It got to where I could trust him, he could trust me," Isaac says of their bond. They also worked together for hours on drawings, spreading larges rolls of paper on the walls and sketching faces with abstract patterns and imagery: alien-like beings, tri-horned horse heads, inverted Janus-like characters where one visage blurred into the other.

Soon it became apparent that they didn't need other collaborators; self-sufficiency was the natural way forward. At Isaac's behest Lee, already fed up with dealing with band musicians, began playing around with a poly-sonic Yamaha keyboard at the local music store. "It had everything on it – trumpet, bass, drums, organ," remembers Lee. "And that's when I started recording my own stuff."

The technology afforded Lee the flexibility and independence he craved, setting him on a path other bedroom musicians and producers around the world were simultaneously following through the '80s into the early '90s. Saving up money from day jobs, he eventually supplemented the Yamaha Isaac had gotten him with Roland and Casio drum machines and a Moog. Lee was living in an apartment in Hillside at that point caring for his dad, who'd been partially paralyzed since early in life. In the evenings up in his second floor room, the music put him in a zone where he could tune out everything and lose himself in his ideas.

"Oh I loved it," he recalls. "I would really experiment with the instruments and use a lot of different sound effects. I was looking for something nobody else had. I wanted something totally different. And once I found the sound I was looking for, I would just smoke me a good joint and just let it go, hit the record button." More potent a creative stimulant than even Isaac's weed was the holistic flow and spontaneity of recording. Between sessions at Isaac's place and Lee's apartment, their volume of output quickly ballooned.

"We was always recording," says Lee. "That's why we have so much music. Even when I went to Isaac's and we start creating, I get home, my mind is racing, I gotta start creating, creating, creating. I remember there were times when I took a 90-minute tape from front to back and just filled it up."

"We never practiced," says Isaac. "See, that was just so odd about the whole thing. I could relate to him, and tell him about the songs I had ideas for and everything and stuff. And then he would bring it back or whatever, and we'd get together and put it down." Once the taskmaster hell bent on rehearsing, Lee had flipped a full 180. Perfection was no longer an aspiration, but the enemy of inspiration.

"I seen where practicing and practicing got me," says Lee. "A lot of musicians you get to playing and they gotta stop, they have to analyze the music. But while you analyzing you losing a lot of the greatness of what you creating. Stop analyzing what you play, just play! And it'll all take shape."

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"I hope you understood the beginning of the record because this was invented from a dream I had today… (You tell me, I'll tell you, we'll figure it out together)" – Lee Tracy and Isaac Manning, "Hope You Understand"

Lee lets loose a maniacal cackle when he acknowledges that the material that he and Isaac recorded was by anyone's estimation pretty out there. It's the same laugh that commences "Hope You Understand" – a chaotic transmission that encapsulates the duality at the heart of their music: a stated desire to reach people and a compulsion to go as leftfield as they saw fit.

"We just did it," says Lee. "We cut the music on and cut loose. I don't sit around and write. I do it by listening, get a feeling, play the music, and the lyrics and stuff just come out of me."

The approach proved adaptable to interpreting other artists' material. While recording a cover of Whitney Houston's pop ballad "Saving All My Love For You," Lee played Whitney's version in his headphones as he laid down his own vocals – partially following the lyrics, partially using them as a departure point. The end result is barely recognizable compared with the original, Lee and Isaac having switched up the time signature and reinvented the melody along the way towards morphing a slick mainstream radio standard into something that sounds solely their own.

"I really used that song to get me started," says Lee. "Then I said, well I need something else, something is missing. Something just came over me. That's when I came up with 'Is It What You Want.'"

The song would become the centerpiece of Lee and Isaac's repertoire. Pushed along by a percolating metronomic Rhythm King style beat somewhere between a military march and a samba, "Is It What You Want" finds Lee pleading the sincerity of his commitment to a potential love interest embellished by vocal tics and hiccups subtlely reminiscent of his childhood hero MJ. Absent chord changes, only synth riffs gliding in and out like apparitions, the song achieves a lingering lo-fi power that leaves you feeling like it's still playing, somewhere, even after the fade out.

"I don't know, it's like a real spiritual song," Lee reflects. "But it's not just spiritual. To me the more I listen to it it's like about everything that you do in your everyday life, period. Is it what you want? Do you want a car or you don't want a car? Do you want Jesus or do you want the Devil? It's basically asking you the question. Can't nobody answer the question but you yourself."

In 1989 Lee won a lawsuit stemming from injuries sustained from a fight he'd gotten into. He took part of the settlement money and with Isaac pressed up "Saving All My Love For You" b/w "Is It What You Want" as a 45 single. Isaac christened the label One Chance Records. "Because that's all we wanted," he says with a laugh, "one chance."

Isaac sent the record out to radio stations and major labels, hoping for it to make enough noise to get picked up nationally. But the response he and Lee were hoping for never materialized. According to Isaac the closest the single got to getting played on the radio is when a disk jock from a local station made a highly unusual announcement on air: "The dude said on the radio, 107.5 – 'We are not gonna play 'Is It What You Want.' We cracked up! Wow, that's deep.

"It was a whole racist thing that was going on," he reflects. "So we just looked over and kept on going. That was it. That was about the way it goes… If you were Black and you were living in Nashville and stuff, that's the way you got treated." Isaac already knew as much from all the times he'd brought he and Lee's tapes (even their cache of country music tunes) over to Music Row to try to drum up interest to no avail.

"Isaac, he really worked his ass off," says Lee. "He probably been to every record place down on Music Row." Nashville's famed recording and music business corridor wasn't but a few blocks from where Lee grew up. Close enough, he remembers, for him to ride his bike along its back alleys and stumble upon the occasional random treasure, like a discarded box of harmonicas. Getting in through the front door, however, still felt a world away.

"I just don't think at the time our music fell into a category for them," he concedes. "It was before its time."

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Lee stopped making music some time in the latter part of the '90s, around the time his mom passed away and life became increasingly tough to manage. "When my mother died I had a nervous breakdown," he says, "So I shut down for a long time. I was in such a sadness frame of mind. That's why nobody seen me. I had just disappeared off the map." He fell out of touch with Isaac, and in an indication of just how bad things had gotten for him, lost track of all the recordings they'd made together. Music became a distant memory.

Fortunately, Isaac kept the faith. In a self-published collection of his poetry – paeans to some of his favorite entertainment and public figures entitled Friends and Dick Clark – he'd written that he believed "music has a life of its own." But his prescience and presence of mind were truly manifested in the fact that he kept an archive of he and Lee's work. As perfectly imperfect as "Is It What You Want" now sounds in a post-Personal Space world, Lee and Isaac's lone official release was in fact just a taste. The bulk of the Is It What You Want album is culled from the pair's essentially unheard home recordings – complete songs, half-realized experiments, Isaac's blue monologues and pronouncements et al – compiled, mixed and programmed in the loose and impulsive creative spirit of their regular get-togethers from decades ago. The rest of us, it seems, may have finally caught up to them.

On the prospect of at long last reaching a wider audience, Isaac says simply, "I been trying for a long time, it feels good." Ever the survivor, he adds, "The only way I know how to make it to the top is to keep climbing. If one leg break on the ladder, hey, you gotta fix it and keep on going… That's where I be at. I'll kill death to make it out there."

For Lee it all feels akin to a personal resurrection: "It's like I was in a tomb and the tomb was opened and I'm back… Man, it feels so great. I feel like I'm gonna jump out of my skin." Success at this stage of his life, he realizes, probably means something different than what it did back when he was singing and dancing in Isaac's front yard. "What I really mean by 'making it,'" he explains isn't just the music being heard but, "the story being told."

Occasionally Lee will pull up "Is It What You Want" on YouTube on his phone, put on his headphones, and listen. He remembers the first time he heard his recorded voice. How surreal it was, how he thought to himself, "Is that really me?" What would he say to that younger version of himself now?

"I would probably tell myself, hang in there, don't give up. Keep striving for the goal. And everything will work out."

Despite what's printed on the record label, sometimes you do get more than one chance.

Today Chicago-based percussionist, composer and producer Makaya McCraven announces the details of his new album In These Times, which is set for release on September 23rd via International Anthem / Nonesuch / XL Recordings. The first offering from the new album is a song tiled "Seventh String," which encapsulates the various musical dimensions present on McCraven's new album, a career-defining body of work that is a remarkable new peak for the already-soaring McCraven. In These Times is a collection of polytemporal compositions inspired as much by broader cultural struggles as McCraven's personal experience as a product of a multinational, working class musician community. It's the recording that he's been trying to create for 7+ years, as it's been consistently in process in the background while he's put forth a prolific run of releases including: In The Moment (2015), Highly Rare (2017), Where We Come From (2018), Universal Beings (2018), We're New Again (2020), Universal Beings E&F Sides (2020), and Deciphering the Message (2021). With contributions from over a dozen musicians and creative partners from his tight-knit circle of collaborators - including Jeff Parker, Junius Paul, Brandee Younger, Joel Ross, and Marquis Hill - the music was recorded in five different studios and four live performance spaces while McCraven engaged in extensive post-production work at home. Featuring orchestral, large ensemble arrangements interwoven with the signature "organic beat music" sound that's become his signature, the album is an evolution and a milestone for McCraven, the producer. But moreover, it's the strongest and clearest statement we've yet to hear from McCraven, the composer. Profiled in the New York Times, Vice, Pitchfork, Rolling Stone, the Guardian, and NPR, among other publications, Makaya and the music he makes today is what Passion of Weiss explains, "is part of a necessary conversation about the next evolution of the Black improvised music known colloquially as 'jazz.' He's found the threads connecting the past with the present, and is either wrapping them with new colors and textures, or he's plucking them gleefully like the strings of a grand instrument." McCraven, who has been aptly called a "cultural synthesizer" and "beat scientist," has a unique gift for collapsing space, destroying borders and blending past, present, and future into poly-textural arrangements of post-genre, jazz-rooted 21st century folk music. In These Times encompasses his artistic ethos, his experiences, identity and lineage, while pushing his music to new heights.

The ground- breaking, unique jazz/R&B/pop group Brian Auger & The Trinity were formed from the ashes of Long John Baldry’s and Brian Auger’s previous group bandThe Steampacket, an R&B Revue collective, which also featured a then barely known Rod Stewart and Julie Driscoll.

Adding the UKs then greatest soul/pop singer Julie Driscoll to this new collective meant that not only did the band have a unique, beautiful voice and face to front the group – Driscoll also embodied everything about the 1960s fashionable It Girl; her sound, her clothes, hair styles and make up assured that nearly as many column inches were dedicated to her stylish demeanour as much as the band’s genre bending music.

The group were the one of the first too to intentionally set out to break down musical barriers – Brian himself specifically stated in the sleeve notes for 1968s ‘Definitely What!’ album that his concept “lies along a straight line drawn between pop and jazz and aims at the ‘fusion’ of both elements”. ‘Fusion’ at that time was not even a recognised musical term, reinforcing Auger’s credentials as an originator and innovator.

“Back then the jazz audiences were purists. They really looked down on rock and pop,” he explains. “I had people cross the road when they saw me coming, I was persona non grata at Ronnie Scotts because of themusic we were doing and the clothes we were wearing”.

Happily – audiences of the time didn’t take the same dismissive approach, Julie Driscoll, Brian Auger & The Trinity toured the US and had exploded onto American TV screens as guests of The Monkees, and also scored hits across Europe's pop charts via the singles ‘This Wheels On Fire’ & ‘Save Me’ – but simultaneously appeared on the UK’s ‘Top Of The Pops’ in the same month as headlining major European Jazz Festivals – a feat no other act has equalled since.

Between 1967 and ’70, Brian Auger experienced a four year run of unprecedented creativity – 1967’s Open with Julie Driscoll, 1968’s Definitely What!, 1969’s Streetnoise again with Driscoll and 1970’s Befour – taking the Hammond Organ in new directions with their thrilling fusion of club R&B, jazz and psychedelic cool, engaging both the underground and the mainstream, and bringing the group chart success in the UK and Europe. “I look back on my years with The Trinity as aperiod of discovery,” Auger concludes. “I didn’t know what would happen or where it would take me but we were breaking down barriers and going someplace new.”


King Britt “The Multi-Genre Maestro, Brian Auger is every producer and DJ’s secret weapon. A hero who deserves his flower now”

DJ Format “I have more Brian Auger records in my collection than any other British artist, which says more about my love of his music than words ever could"


FOR FANS OF:
Jimmy Smith, Aretha Franklin, The Spencer Davis
Group, Nina Simone, Georgie Fame, Traffic. Sly &
The Family Stone, Jimmy McGriff.

Vente (The Danish word for "wait") was released in 2021 and was the sixth album and the latest result, of a long-running collaboration between drummer Emil de Waal, clarinetist Elith "Nulle" Nykjær, multi-musician Gustaf Ljunggren and hammond organist Dan Hemmer. Emil de Waal has played drums with an impressive line-up of names in Danish rock, pop and jazz, ranging from Bagdad Dagblad, over Old News and Maluba Orchestra, to his current band Kalaha, an ensemble known for mixing electronic music with elements of jazz and African music. Elith "Nulle" Nykjær, who is 84 years old, is a living legend in Danish jazz and has had an impressive career as an actor, writer, musician and composer at DR (The Danish Broadcasting Corporation). Since the late '80s, he has toured in both Europe and in the US with his ensemble, Nulle & Verdensorkestret ("Nulle & The World Orchestra") and the repertoire of this very popular group has affected the repertoire on Vente. Gustaf Ljunggren was born in Stockholm, Sweden and lives in Copenhagen, Denmark, where he studied to become a saxophone player at The Rhythmic Music Conservatory. He became a household name in Denmark when he was the bandleader on the Danish talkshow 'Det Nye Talkshow' in the period 2009- 2011. He has performed and recorded with a wide variety of artists, such as Robyn, Teitur and Caroline Henderson. Ljunggren is often referred to as a "multi-instrumentalist" and he masters both wind instruments, strings and keys. Dan Hemmer is known as one half of the duo, Lindberg Hemmer Foundation, with the late, great Danish cult figure, entertainer and bass player, Morten Lindberg aka Master Fatman. Besides that, Hemmer has played with virtually everyone within all genres of music, and over the last decade or so, he and Danish saxophonist Michael Blicher, have been playing with none less than American funk master - drummer Steve Gadd. The four musicians on Vente all come from their individual musical backgrounds, bringing with them elements of their personal history. And when they get together to play, they don't intend for the music to come out in any particular way - it just has to feel right for all of them. This free-spirited approach to playing music, combined with the album's delicate mixture of originals, written by various members of the ensemble, and carefully selected jazz-standards, played with the group's groovy personal touch, gives the music on Vente a nostalgic, yet timeless, quality.

Isoviha was recorded four years ago, inspired by ideas that Sasu Ripatti (aka Vladislav Delay) had been reflecting on for a long time. This album is a counterpart to his two Rakka albums which were a personal reflection on the nature and sound-world of the northern Arctic wilderness, 1000 kilometres north of where he lives on the Finnish island of Hailuoto. It's an area he loves to explore, trekking out alone to enjoy its rugged power. However the sound world of Isoviha is a return to man-made civilization. Musically Isoviha presents a more complicated world than Rakka; overloaded and unpredictable, audio archaeology that layers and juxtaposes everyday sounds into intense sculptures of noise and drone. As a musical observation internally and externally, it's influenced by the heightened anxious intensity Sasu feels when returning from the empty wilderness. The ratcheting up of urban noise on Isoviha is built with insistent loops that seem to malfunction the faster they spiral and the dangerous overwhelming potential of ordinary objects and events: shimmering, hammering, crowds, radio distortion, ancient backfiring engines. It's hypermodern musique concrète, married to a jazz drummer's intuitive sense of rhythm. Going back even further in time but still tethered to the local, Isoviha also means 'the great wrath' and refers to a time in Finland under Russian occupation in the 1700s. A time when all the Islanders of Hailuoto were killed, apart from a single couple who were left to bury the dead. As if time is non-linear, the response to toxicity and madness that drives the album feels even more appropriate now than when it was written four years ago and confirmation that the horrors of the past still darken the present.

2LP Gatefold (featuring liner notes). Limited Edition. Artwork by Meeuw.

A collection of personal recordings made on various synthesisers between 1989 and 2017, by Telesoniek Atelier. Huge Tip on this one!

Early feedback:

"Fascinating improvs. I loved 'Gruesse'. " Suzanne Ciani (Atmospheric)

"Beautiful music with real subtlety and depth” Anthony Child (Surgeon, Transcendence Orchestra)

"Lovely, pure synth music." Mark Pritchard (Warp Records)

"Chateuroux is mighty... A proper zoner. Flung on earth." John T. Gast

"This is a great release by Telesoniek Atelier - a musician unknown to me before now. I've been thoroughly enjoying playing this double vinyl release since i got it. Both discs are filled with amazing music that moves between abstract electronic experiments to melodic, DMT bent sounding, classical contemporary music and futuristic soundtracks from non-existing Sci Fi movies you'll wish you could see. It time-warps you from here to there then freezes the moment. It all sounds like its been taken straight from the ancient room .. you know, that one where the spirits of the great teachers live. This is very focused, unpretentious and highly emotive music . A wonderful and dreamy sound garden coming from what I imagine to be a beautiful mind . These discs will be camping out on my turntables for a while."
Tako Reyenga (Music From Memory)

"A deep sense of the symphonic permeates this record. While synthesizers form the basis of its sound, Hans Kulk shapes their timbre into uncanny acoustics and weaves them together like an orchestra. Just when you think you have understood what is happening, another layer reveals itself. Yet it keeps a floating sense of lightness throughout. A truly rewarding listening experience."
Hainbach

Sub Pop debut by accomplished Greek artist Σtella, produced by Redinho (Swet Shop Boys).
‘Up And Away’ is an eclectic, compelling modern pop album showcasing Σtella’s skilled songwriting and the influence of classic love songs, Greek folk, and contemporary electronic-music production.

Σtella makes her Sub Pop debut with the mesmerizing ‘Up And Away’, an oldschool pop paean to the pangs and raptures of love. From the Greek folkinflected get-go, we’re swept up in Σtella’s world - and it’s quite the captivating place to be.

The singer songwriter joined forces with artist and producer Tom Calvert (aka Redinho), and it was a match made in Athens; the results are heavenly. Tom caught one of Σtella’s gigs on a visit to the city. He reached out, they started hanging out, and the pair soon clicked creatively. Both mention chemistry when asked about their collaboration and it’s clear, from what we hear, they had it in spades. The meld is seamless.

Σtella’s songs have always riffed on American and Greek mid-century pop but ‘Up And Away’ doubles down on the vintage aesthetic. Tom says he styled the record “as if it was a rare gem from the ’60s found in a box of records in Athens,” and Σtella notes she was ready for a more “deeply Greek touch - it felt comfortable and right, smoothly fusing with the pop.” The bouzouki appears on a full five tracks played by Christos Skondras who, she says, “was brilliant at improvising,” while Sofia Labropoulou on the kanun “brought an insane amount of dreaminess to the last two songs. Having these amazing musicians play for ‘Up And Away’ - I couldn’t be more grateful.”

While not exclusively a confessional artist, Σtella is always intimate - when she sings, it’s personal. She writes “about things I feel passion for. Stories about me, about others, about all that’s there in love and war.” Σtella was “in a very emotional state at the time, which came through in the lyrics and vocals.” And it’s true, her honeyed voice - layered in those unmistakable harmonies of hers - thrillingly runs the gamut from tender to terse, by turns bracing and smitten, aching and forlorn. But it’s the lyrics that feel key. Across her output, Σtella has proven herself a strong storyteller, and ‘Up And Away’ is no exception (the guise of the medieval bard she assumes on the cover is telling). Past releases have been studded with gem-like vignettes - a diverse array of stories set tightly together to form non-linear narratives unified by emotion. Her latest feels singular in that it seems to trace a longer-form tale across songs, with each track escalating the record’s erotic arc.

By the end of the album, ‘Up And Away’s core concerns are clear: the conflicting and conflicted emotions inherent in love, that live on in ways we can’t always understand or control. Love is like this record: when it’s over, you still feel it for time to come.
Loser Edition LP pressed on blue vinyl.

Hailing from Ancaster, Ontario, Carl Didur has been an enigmatic fixture of Toronto’s underground music community for close to two decades. Originally traversing the Golden Horseshoe with The Battleship, Ethel, a band which sprung from his first outfit CEDRUMATIC, Didur soon moved to Toronto. Throughout the mid-2000’s he could be spotted playing his trademark ace-tone organ as a member of No Dynamics and Rozasia in the city’s crammed rogue venues, such as The Bagel and the infamous and transient Extermination Music Night. During these years The Battleship, Ethel continued to tour, often performing as backup band for Damo Suzuki, while at other shows inviting Dave Byers (Simply Saucer) and Bob Bryden (Spirit Of Christmas) to perform alongside the band. Perhaps the most enduring legacy of "The Battleship, Ethel", which dissolved in 2009, is that it laid the creative foundation for Carl and bandmate Michael McLean's next project, the prolific, studio focused, Zacht Automaat. As Zacht Automaat released music at a frantic pace, Carl continued to collaborate with members of a tight-knit group of Toronto’s downtown scene including touring with U.S. Girls and Slim Twig, performing and recording with Colin Fisher as Fake Humans, guesting on Absolutely Free’s Currency EP and producing New Fries’ most recent album The Idea of Us. Throughout the last decade Didur’s purely solo output has served to document his unimpeachably singular approach to music making. I Cannot See You Too Well (2011), Nothing is the Secret to Anything (2014) and Is It Yesterday? (2020) all released on cassette were followed by a digital album of gentle minimalism called Natural Feelings Vol I (2020). His solo shows consist of multiple tape machines running loops through various analog devices (a Certified Electronics Technician Didur now spends his non-piano playing hours of the day repairing all manner of tape echoes and synthesizers) or solo Wurlitzer electric piano improvisations, his performances gracing both stage and gallery. With his latest release Maybe Next Time, Didur further establishes himself as a singular artist with a unique methodology honed from years of music-making and listening. The album’s compositions swing from lush Axelrod-ish affairs filled with Mellotron strings to the album’s spiritual jazz influenced centerpiece The River Meets The Sea. “I was inspired by Eno's Here Come the Warm Jets, Crazy Horse but only when they are sad, Alice Coltrane, Jessica Pratt, McDonald and Giles, and so many others…” states Didur. Infused with a melancholic tone throughout, tracks such as Close My Eyes and Autumn’s Here invoke cinematic memories with tape echo and reverb applying a softened focus to the proceedings. Carl explains the context for the tone and the setting for the record’s gestation: “Maybe Next Time is a record I made after the world lost a sweet person that many in our community loved. Unlike most of my albums this one never seeks to shock or surprise you. It is about sadness, confusion, dissolution, transformation and ultimately a deeply forgiving sense of love. It is a concept record about being a human being!”

Deluxe reissue of their 1989 sophomore album pressed on pale blue colour vinyl.
Presented in a gloss laminated gatefold sleeve, which features the original LP plus a bonus disc with all the A and B sides, some compilation tracks and an outtake, plus a 12-page booklet containing previously unpublished lyrics and tons of contemporary reviews and photos.
Completely remastered for your listening pleasure.
In 1989, while the musical world was fêting serial-killer worshipping noise bands, white boys with dreadlocks and the first glimmers of techno, one band – The Wolfhounds – was describing the times and the country exactly as they were. Or at least as they saw it.
Well, not exactly. The privations of finding enough money to live on, a semi-permanent roof over your head and perhaps the hope of real change were all there in the lyrics along with the multitudinous shards of ideas in the music, both raging and reflective – but there was also a sense of magical realism and authentic personal circumstance imbued in it all.
Formed as a frantic noisy fusion of sixties garage and independent post-punk in Romford in 1984, by 1986 it was the band’s misfortunate to be corralled with the jangly and quirky bands of the era-defining C86 tape, given away free with the NME that year. The frustration of being lumped with the lumpen was already spilling over into a heightened creativity that would see the band release three LPs in 18 months, the first and perhaps most fully realised of which was Bright & Guilty.
The band’s sense of melody saw three singles taken off it, and all received plentiful radio play that resulted in enthusiastic audience responses when the band toured with My Bloody Valentine and the House of Love shortly after the LP came out. This renewed attention also saw them being threatened with legal action by the food company satirically targeted by one of the singles – Happy Shopper.
The band’s magpie listening habits also saw the first glimmers of an interest in sampling with the track Cottonmouth, hip hop in the drum rhythms of Invisible People and Son of Nothing, discordant post- hardcore in Non-specific Song and even percussive hints of Tom Waits’ Rain Dogs in Charterhouse.
The album’s lyrical themes have sustained the relevance of these 30-something year-old songs. The dictatorship of the class system over the economy is touched on in Charterhouse, the unfairness of housing policy in Rent Act and Red Tape Red Light, the desperation of not having enough money to even seek employment in Useless Second Cousin. But there is contemplation and mystery, too: Rope Swing’s nostalgia for pre-teen childhood, Invisible People’s detailing of intangible weaknesses.
Of all their peers, The Wolfhounds post-C86 output stands up straight and proud, and you’ll find echoes of their sound in Fontaines DC, Idles and many others – but not performed with the brashness, vigour and uniqueness of the originals.

In association with DJ Amir’s 180 Proof Records, BBE Music continues its exploration of rare gems from the Strata Records catalogue, with previously unreleased Sam Sanders album ‘Mirror Mirror’. A collector’s dream come true, this is musical treasure is so rare that the recordings on this album have never before seen a proper release and even the cover art had to be created from scratch. An almost unbelievable fact, given that it ranks as one of the strongest releases in the already air-tight era of Strata’s Detroit. Although he’s been compared to John Coltrane, Ornette Coleman and Joe Henderson, saxophonist Sam Sanders stands out as one of the most unique phenomena to come from the Motor City. Sanders’ approach to life was so 'out there' that one might say his relative obscurity was a personal choice. Sanders caught glimpses of fame early on performing with several internationally known acts and subsequently, he also learned a bit about what the Record Industry’s primary goals were. Realizing that he did not share them, Sanders chose instead to walk his own path. This drive for artistic freedom turned out to be a double-edged sword: while it allowed Sanders to produce some of the most electric jazz, funk, and soul to come from Detroit, it also meant that most of his recordings were never widely released, if they were released at all. Drawing on his experience with Motown acts like Stevie Wonder and Smokey Robinson, Sanders incorporated a fresh soul sound into recordings that would have otherwise been categorised as jazz. As such, 'Mirror Mirror' moves seamlessly between spirit and style: The album starts on the street with “Inner City Player,” a superfly breakdown of a Detroit hustler’s life, before moving into distinctly abstract territory with the melancholy “Face At My Window.” The experience is held together by a no-nonsense rhythm section featuring the aggressive drumming of Jimmy Allen and the intensely focused bass playing of Ed Pickens. Perhaps the most straightforward jazz song on the album, “Lover’s Gain” showcases Sanders at his freewheelin’ best. And if there was to be any doubt that 'Mirror Mirror' can get funky as hell, look no further than the wah-wah guitar and early synth sounds of “Funk’ed Up,” easily the greasiest cut on the album. 'Mirror Mirror' is remastered from the original reel to reel master tapes.

Lasse Marhaug is one of those characters that operates at the nexus of so much stuff that’s important to us here - working as a producer (over the last couple of years alone he’s helped shape albums by Jenny Hval, Kelly Lee Owens, Okkyung Lee, Hillary Woods etc etc), a mastering engineer (far too many releases to mention), a prolific sleeve designer (likewise), publisher (his occasional Personal Best magazine is still going strong) and, perhaps most importantly - a recording artist in his own right. ‘Context’ is his most substantial release in years - a crushing assembly of bone-dry/darkside drone/machine malfunctions that’s bursting with a visceral, throbbing, mass of feeling. If yr into anything on the spectrum from Mika Vainio to Grouper to Kevin Drumm or Deathprod - this one’s as good as it gets

Over almost three decades of activity, Marhaug has carved out notoriety as a solo performer, a prolific collaborator (working with everyone from Sunn O))) to Jim O'Rourke) and as a busy producer, who's notched up credits on some of the most striking-sounding albums of the last few years. This new album was created as a swan song for the infamous Oslo studio that he's inhabited for 17 years, prior to his move back to the Arctic Circle where he originally came from. Recorded over a 14-month period and painstakingly edited from hours upon hours of material, it might just be the most impressive, moving record we’ve heard from him so far.

The interplay between piercing softness and deafening noise is the key to "Context", displaying a philosophy Marhaug has been exploring for years. Few other artists are able to balance chaos and harmony with such ease; Marhaug does it without grandstanding, it's music that sounds as simultaneously beautiful and as daunting as the Arctic landscape he's returning to. At any moment a sound can be alluring or treacherous, like the frozen sun reflecting on a snowy mountaintop. Marhaug's deftness with rhythm and bass emerges on 'Context 3', as he pairs Vainio-esque low-end pulses with crumpled noise and widescreen tones; as disquieting music-box chimes absorbed into the blasted soundscape on 'Context 5', while we're thrust into the freezing cold on 'Context 6', subjected to punctuating gusts of white noise and trapped string loops.

Trust it’s a rare and near-mythical beast, conjuring vast, treacherous soundscapes illuminated with pangs of sentiment that naturally weave strands of his non-musical practice in their psychosensual lustre and gritty attrition. As he steps into a new phase of his career, we're left with a concluding chapter that stands as a summation and open-ended post-credits reveal.

Pye Corner Audio releases a new album, Let’s Emerge!, for Sonic Cathedral. It’s his first studio outing for the label following the acclaimed live recording Social Dissonance, which came out earlier this year, and it features Ride guitarist Andy Bell playing on five of its ten tracks. From the first glimpse of the artwork to the first note of the music it’s a marked deviation from Pye Corner Audio’s more traditional shadowy sounds. Whereas his last outing for Ghost Box (2021’s Entangled Routes) was inspired by the underground fungal pathways through which plants communicate, this one is very much above ground, bathed in sunlight and acid-bright psychedelia.

“This is a departure to sunnier climes, but a departure nonetheless,” says Pye Corner Audio, aka Martin Jenkins. “It’s something that I’d been thinking about for a while. I try to tailor my work slightly differently for the various labels that I work with, and this seems to fit nicely with Sonic Cathedral’s ethos.” Designer Marc Jones’ bold and ultra vivid artwork consciously references the likes of LFO, Spacemen 3 and the early output of Stereolab. “I think it mixes together many of my earliest influences,” explains Martin. “I’ve been a long-time fan of Spacemen 3 and Stereolab.

Their moments of repetition and drone have always seeped into what I’ve tried to create.

“I was living in a small apartment and I’d stripped down my studio set-up when I was recording this album. This enabled me to focus on a few key pieces of equipment and explore them fully.” The recordings were fleshed out by Andy Bell, who Martin first met at the Sonic Cathedral 15th birthday party at The Social in London back in 2019 – the same show that became the live album Social Dissonance.

“New alliances were formed and friendships made in that basement in Little Portland Street,” recalls Martin. “When I met Andy, we agreed that we needed to work together in some way. After I’d remixed a few tracks from his album The View From Halfway Down, he kindly repaid the favour.” The end results – mastered in New York by acclaimed engineer Heba Kadry – are incredible, from the first stirrings of opener ‘De-Hibernate’, via the glorious ‘Haze Loops’ and ‘Saturation Point’, the album slowly but surely awakens, blinking and feeling its way into the light. It all culminates in the epic closing track ‘Warmth Of The Sun’ which, with its vocal harmonies and acid breakdown, is seven and a half minutes of pure release.

“That one’s about life’s simple pleasures,” concludes Martin. “The Beach Boys, tremolo guitars, infinite drones, Spacemen 3. Let’s emerge from this darkened era and feel the ‘Warmth Of The Sun’. “The last few years have seen huge changes, both personally and in a wider perspective. The album title is a reaction to this, a collective (tentative) sigh of relief. Here’s to new beginnings and a sense of hope.”

The exemplary and well-travelled cornetist Kirk Knuffke presents a bold
new trio, with bassist Michael Bisio and pianist Matthew Shipp, on an
intimate and expansive double album
'Gravity Without Airs features' the three world- class musicians on Knuffke
compositions and in open form, creating a tour-de-force of poetry and verve. It's
available as a 2CD in deluxe 8-panel digipak and a 2LP in deluxe gatefold sleeve
with download card, the liner notes are by Francis Davis.
This is Knuffke's debut as a leader for TAO Forms. Accolades for the cornetist's
recent work as leader include NPR's Jazz Album of the Year laurel for 2017's
Cherryco, his homage to Don Cherry, a prime influence. DownBeat praised the
way that album showcased Knuffke's "nonchalant versatility and ebullient
melodic gifts," while esteemed critic Francis Davis called it "nothing short of
spectacular." Davis also wrote the liner notes for Gravity...noting the allure of
Knuffke's instrumental aplomb: "Kirk plays as if his cornet is a part of him - he
plays with it, not just on it."
On his guiding artistic impulse, Kirk Knuffke says: "I'm concerned with making
beautiful music. Beauty is always first, though not in a precious way. It can be in a
rough way, too." A prolific, lauded record- maker, 'Gravity Without Airs' fulfils his
poetic aims as well as any recording he has made. This work finds Knuffke in the
rare, even unique, trio format of cornet, piano and double-bass. His partners are
two ever- estimable pillars of creative music, and the work they've created
together here brims with melody and mystery, intimacy and dynamism.
"Rhythmically precise, New Orleans funky and full of grace, Kirk Knuffke's music is
a reflection of his multifaceted personality: part musical sage, part jazz
philosopher, a self-taught musician with wide interests, endless curiosity and an
abundance of good humour." - DownBeat

On July 1st Ploy's ascendance continues with 'Unit 18' – a new EP dedicated to his record label and club night Deaf Test's spiritual home – Venue MOT Unit 18 in Bermondsey, South London. With an already loyal following and fabled atmosphere, the parties inform Ploy's productions and vice versa. "These are three rave tracks, all influenced by sound system culture, with my take on different styles, made for various times of the early hours in our sweaty venue", he comments. Maintaining the floor-focused approach of his previous, acclaimed 'Rayhana' EP, here Ploy brings more organized chaos. Sound waves blast away cobwebs with gale-force power, and jolt you awake, like an intravenous shot from the mains. These forthright, no-nonsense workouts appear simple, but are incredibly well-made, revealing discreetly clever touches likely to provoke 'how did he do that?’ scrutiny from other producers. With ten-ton-kick-drum pressure, snares like booted dustbins and an intense build of energy, on 'Stinky' a soundclash turns into a back alley brawl... with lazers. Influenced by drill bass lines, UK bass music and soundsystem culture, the 'stink and perspiration’ lyric will be surely be apt, especially with a July release date. Imagine the scene: whilst a deranged, malfunctioning robot MC yaps and undulates, vampires chase their victim through a packed rave, before feasting on flesh. Ravey and riotous, with horror flick tropes and a touch of electro, the 138bpm wallop of 'Ninety One' is an ode to his year of birth, when magpie like, sample heavy tracks made for innocent, non-overthought, but compelling anthems. Grimey like the dance after which it's named, title track ‘Unit 18’ is a 155bpm half-time stomper, with nods to bounce, 00s hip hop, UK drill and dubstep. Combining flying congas, wookie moans and a classic DMZ stye flute line, this low slung, personality filled throbber will stand out and turn heads.

Following the precursor singles of 2021, Formality Jerne-Site’s unveiling is finally cast upon her already-growing fanbase. Trained classically as a composer and completing a masters at the Royal Danish Academy of Fine Arts, Jura introduces a highly-anticipated playground of carefully sculpted characters, plots and lessons - sometimes charming, sometimes nefarious, always absolute and sincere. A fictional land opens its doors and roof to us. A trio of trans kids run amok in rural suburbia. Various sorcerers of the wild future enter the scene on some songs; on others, the mind is cast to sun-drenched drives and journeys of yesteryear. At the heart is a pop sensibility: yearning, reflections, vanity, guesswork, hope. Jura is adamant about practice and precision. Dead seriously she offers, about making music: ‘Nothing should be half-hearted or an accident.’ There’s a maturity and elegance to her compositions, arrangements that - although at first sound seem abstract - lean away from experimental, somehow. She sing-speaks in English, and somehow not typically theatrically for such a play of a record. The theatrics are all real. It’s a fantasy land for sure, but it's based on hard facts. Like academia subdivided into poetry. It’s that weird-ass specificity she mentioned. Opener ‘Someone’s Lifework’ introduces less a choir of voices, than a choir of personalities. The art of storytelling is at the center of the musical expression. A protagonist relinquishes control of chaos that’s bigger than them on a perilous journey on some vessel: they comfort their co-passengers. There’s a sense that the hero - or anti-hero - might be more canny and cunning than the sweetness they first sell to fellow players. 'Is this our getaway chance?’ sings fellow Copenhagener Ydegirl amongst swelling synths and reverb that become so definitely Jerne-Site as the quest continues. The search? For intimacy, perhaps. ‘Same late Age (dIcK bIfFeReNcE)’ imbibes at once, some further disorientation, perhaps a little hallucinatory feeling which may come over the listener. Through a synthesizing of political themes that work across time ‘Same Late Age (dIcK bIfFeReNcE)’ bears reminiscences of the musical expressions of anti-capitalism in the 1980es, although in a new body and context. “I have a feeling that music reconjures societal morals and ideas from the time in which it was written when we press play or hear a live performance. From the moment at a concert when the symphonic orchestra starts tuning in, the time traveling begins. So I imagined how it would be to be trans sitting there playing the first violin, having the job of producing that first tone that all the other musicians around me tune in ona, ” Jura explains. The listener yearns for more; and subsequent tracks deliver. On ‘How Intimate It Gets,’ Jura meditates on the futility of closeness, begging the audience to enter the blood and guts of their own entanglements, the blueprints of focusing entering. Jura sings richly about fingers being lines, pointing or bending, and we’re reminded of their own wicked ways we can’t control. A history of singing in choirs informs the harmony of myriad inner voices heard across the album. At once prophetic and enigmatic, some of the songs rearrange historical events out of pop musical language. The enormously entertaining ‘Pinot-Botticelli Toast to European Users’ conjures scenes of Cold-War world leaders stuck on a cruise in the Transatlantic vacuum, and the protagonist watches a devastating heartbreaker careen on into the picture, led by his own hips on ‘The Lasceaux Associate’. Finally, on title track ‘Formality Jerne-Site’, American English rises to the occasion like a verdict around the narrative of three trans teenagers in rural Colorado: language turns into something sensual and haptic, playing with the snare and sizzle of syllables. The words twist and bend, while the music follows its own synaesthetic logic: “around us pop culture made a vow to a normative desire, drawing in like water color percussion”. Anyines is a site of play and documentation, with a canon so far quite nice. Their future is one that envisions supporting the galaxies their dear friends embody, be it music, performance, video games or beyond. Highlights from their discerning back catalogue include myriad formats: live and digital, plus releases binded to physical artefacts that enhance the live experience such as sculptures and scents. Their history also includes disappearing time-sensitive shadow-tracked material and cross-disciplinary opportunities that reflect deep professionalism and a totally non-schooled semblance of sound and drama. Recent releases include a dance-theatre soundtrack, a traditional shiny pop record, and the acclaimed ML Buch sophomore, Skinned.

In den letzten Jahren hat sich Griechenland als echte Fundgrube speziell für Metalbands entpuppt. Auch Cellar Stone kommen aus Griechenland ( Athen). Mit den beiden Bandgründern Aris Pirris (Vocals, Guitar/ Persona Non Grata) und George Maroulees (Guitar/ Diviner) haben sich 2018 zwei alte Hasen der Musikszene zusammengetan. Mit Akis Rooster (Bass/4Bitten, Band 13) und George Karlis (Drums) war das Line Up komplett. Tolle Hooks, famose Leads, Power und Gefühl, Cellar Stone liefern mächtig ab auf ihrem 2. Abum "Rise & Fall". Beeinflusst von den Rock & Metal Giganten wie Black Sabbath, Led Zeppelin, Thin Lizzy, UFO, Iron Maiden, Metallica, Alice In Chains, sowie den Bands von heute wie Black Stone Cherry, Shinedown, Mastodon und Alter Bridge, setzen Cellar Stone ihr eigenes Statement. Passend dass der Frontmann von Black Stone Cherry, Chris Robertson, zu Gast auf dem Album ist, mit einem feurigen Gitarrensolo auf Track "War We Can Win".Die Covid-Pandemie und die Auswirkungen, die sie auf das Leben der Menschen, insbesondere auf die Musikindustrie, hatte, spiegeln sich auf dem gesamten Album wider. Wie unsicher unser Leben plötzlich wurde, auf globaler Ebene, ist das Hauptthema in der Musik und den Texten. Refrains, die haften bleiben, starke Melodien, ein Pandämonium aus Gitarrenharmonien und massives Gitarrenriffing, 11 brandneue Heavy Rock Tracks die Eindruck hinterlassen.

Creme White Vinyl - On the cover of their debut album "Wilde deutsche
Prärie" (Wild German Prairie) from 2018, we saw a burning house
surrounded by apparently insane figures
Almost four years later, on the cover of their second album, the band is standing
on the dike in Husum. In the background we see the Nordsee Hotel, which burned
out in the year of the debut's release. The looks of the band members reveal
friendly determination, which is very North German in its nonchalance.
Nevertheless, I don't doubt for a moment that Swutscher still know how to set
their surroundings on fire, even leave a trail of destruction. Their reputation is
legendary. Every person who has experienced Swutscher live knows that it is not
only a spiritual but also a physical experience. Reason down and thus lead it into
a wonderful dissolution of boundaries. This LP format is released on ltd ed cream
vinyl.
PR Agency (Print/Online/Radio GSA): Community Promotion PR Agency (Print/
Online/Radio Worldwide): La Pochette Surprise Marketing: Print/Online: 2500€ /
Radio: 2000€ / Social Media: 3000€ / Ads: 3000€ PrintAds: Westzeit Cover
(Feb2022), Musikexpress, Visions, OX Fanzine, Flight13 Mailorder, Schall TOUR
DATES Präsentiert von DIFFUS, OX FANZINE, BYTEFM 20.4. A- Wien - Rhiz 21.4.
München - Heppel & Ettlich 22.4. CH-Basel - Hirscheneck 23.4. Stuttgart - Club
Cann 28.4. Düsseldorf - KulturSchlachthof 29.4. Husum - Speicher 30.4. Hamburg
- Molotow 05.5. Kassel - Goldgrube 06.5. Münster - Gleis 22 07.5. Bremen - Tower
08.5. Hannover - Bei Chez Heinz 17.5. Köln - Bumann & Sohn 18.5. Nürnberg -
Muz Club 19.5. Chemnitz - Nikola Tesla 20.5. Dresden - Groove Station 21.5.
Berlin - Urban Spree Separater PR Report verfügbar

Creme White Vinyl - On the cover of their debut album "Wilde deutsche
Prärie" (Wild German Prairie) from 2018, we saw a burning house
surrounded by apparently insane figures
Almost four years later, on the cover of their second album, the band is standing
on the dike in Husum. In the background we see the Nordsee Hotel, which burned
out in the year of the debut's release. The looks of the band members reveal
friendly determination, which is very North German in its nonchalance.
Nevertheless, I don't doubt for a moment that Swutscher still know how to set
their surroundings on fire, even leave a trail of destruction. Their reputation is
legendary. Every person who has experienced Swutscher live knows that it is not
only a spiritual but also a physical experience. Reason down and thus lead it into
a wonderful dissolution of boundaries. This LP format is released on ltd ed cream
vinyl.
PR Agency (Print/Online/Radio GSA): Community Promotion PR Agency (Print/
Online/Radio Worldwide): La Pochette Surprise Marketing: Print/Online: 2500€ /
Radio: 2000€ / Social Media: 3000€ / Ads: 3000€ PrintAds: Westzeit Cover
(Feb2022), Musikexpress, Visions, OX Fanzine, Flight13 Mailorder, Schall TOUR
DATES Präsentiert von DIFFUS, OX FANZINE, BYTEFM 20.4. A- Wien - Rhiz 21.4.
München - Heppel & Ettlich 22.4. CH-Basel - Hirscheneck 23.4. Stuttgart - Club
Cann 28.4. Düsseldorf - KulturSchlachthof 29.4. Husum - Speicher 30.4. Hamburg
- Molotow 05.5. Kassel - Goldgrube 06.5. Münster - Gleis 22 07.5. Bremen - Tower
08.5. Hannover - Bei Chez Heinz 17.5. Köln - Bumann & Sohn 18.5. Nürnberg -
Muz Club 19.5. Chemnitz - Nikola Tesla 20.5. Dresden - Groove Station 21.5.
Berlin - Urban Spree Separater PR Report verfügbar

Creme White Vinyl - On the cover of their debut album "Wilde deutsche
Prärie" (Wild German Prairie) from 2018, we saw a burning house
surrounded by apparently insane figures
Almost four years later, on the cover of their second album, the band is standing
on the dike in Husum. In the background we see the Nordsee Hotel, which burned
out in the year of the debut's release. The looks of the band members reveal
friendly determination, which is very North German in its nonchalance.
Nevertheless, I don't doubt for a moment that Swutscher still know how to set
their surroundings on fire, even leave a trail of destruction. Their reputation is
legendary. Every person who has experienced Swutscher live knows that it is not
only a spiritual but also a physical experience. Reason down and thus lead it into
a wonderful dissolution of boundaries. This LP format is released on ltd ed cream
vinyl.
PR Agency (Print/Online/Radio GSA): Community Promotion PR Agency (Print/
Online/Radio Worldwide): La Pochette Surprise Marketing: Print/Online: 2500€ /
Radio: 2000€ / Social Media: 3000€ / Ads: 3000€ PrintAds: Westzeit Cover
(Feb2022), Musikexpress, Visions, OX Fanzine, Flight13 Mailorder, Schall TOUR
DATES Präsentiert von DIFFUS, OX FANZINE, BYTEFM 20.4. A- Wien - Rhiz 21.4.
München - Heppel & Ettlich 22.4. CH-Basel - Hirscheneck 23.4. Stuttgart - Club
Cann 28.4. Düsseldorf - KulturSchlachthof 29.4. Husum - Speicher 30.4. Hamburg
- Molotow 05.5. Kassel - Goldgrube 06.5. Münster - Gleis 22 07.5. Bremen - Tower
08.5. Hannover - Bei Chez Heinz 17.5. Köln - Bumann & Sohn 18.5. Nürnberg -
Muz Club 19.5. Chemnitz - Nikola Tesla 20.5. Dresden - Groove Station 21.5.
Berlin - Urban Spree Separater PR Report verfügbar