quête:non person

What does it mean to feel pride - to feel love? Not just romantic
desire, but an all-encompassing love built around acceptance
and unconditional respect? For 24-year-old indie/alternative
artist NoSo, they seek out the answers in their work. The title of
their debut album ‘Stay Proud of Me’ is an entreaty to their past
self, as they dauntlessly forge ahead to become the person and
artist they’ve always wanted to be.
 NoSo is shorthand for North/South: A nod to their Korean
heritage, and the inane origin question (“Which Korea are you
from?”) that so many Korean Americans inevitably face at some
point in their lives. Hwong’s writing often indirectly grapples with
the insecurities and frustrations that can arise from the Asian
American experience.
 Just as there is no singular Asian American experience, there is
no singular LGBTQ experience. Hwong, a queer non-binary
person, remembers that the first time they realized they were
attracted to women was when they wrote a romantic song with
femme pronouns. They don’t remember ever explicitly coming
out in public; from the start, their declaration of themselves to
the world at large has always been through music.
 Support tours with Yumi Zouma, Lucy Dacus and Molly Burch in
the US. First ever London headline show at The Waiting Room
on 20 July, followed by Bluedot Festival 22 July.
 ‘Stay Proud of Me’ will be released on Partisan Records
(IDLES, Fontaines D.C., Laura Marling).

Dalibert who hides badly behind the simplicity of facade of these eight pieces all the rare elegance which emerges from this set. The pianist goes well beyond the codes of the genre, certainly one will think sometimes of harold bad of avalon sutra to philipp glass of metamorphosis but Melaine Dalibert, by his singularity and his clairvoyance, reminds us that the music is nothing more than an arithmetic of the sensitivity, an addition of the possible ones. His fifth album "Shimmering" recently enriched the Mind Travels collection of the label Ici d'Ailleurs, but the magnetic mantras, that French pianist Melaine Dalibert forges on his appreciated concerts, already attracted many lovers of contemporary piano minimalism, due to the way by which this composer manages to integrate an algorithmic approach to composition with popular motifs and influence. His alloy of personalistic flow and technical skills is so strong that even what sounded like pure exercises, such as "Six+Six", one of the more interesting compositions (dedicated to David Sylvian), can titillate listener's soul. These eight haunting, wordless pop songs, snapshots of a melancholy mood, owe as much to Morton Feldman or Philip Glass as to Ryuichi Sakamoto or Peter Broderick. They nonetheless reveal a highly singular musical personality. These eight new white pebbles extend the fascinating journey of an artist who, if the title of his very beautiful record is to be believed, loves nothing more than to illuminate the path.

REMASTERED

Grönland Records announce a revised, remastered reissue of “Sleepwalkers” by DAVID SYLVIAN. Available as a gatefold 2LP with exclusive art print and as a gatefold digipack CD, this new edition also features the previously unreleased track “Modern Interiors”.

in the 00s, DAVID SYLVIAN produced two of his strongest and most solitary statements, BLEMISH and MANAFON. but those records don’t tell the whole story. during that the same period, SYLVIAN created an alternate body of work: a series of collaborations and side projects with leading talents of pop and improv, electronic and contemporary classical music. the best of these recordings are gathered here on SLEEPWALKERS, meticulously sequenced and remixed: the fruits of one-off meetings and lifelong partnerships, they jump from bliss to intrigue, romance to sensuality, as arch experiments lead into the lushest pop.

the single ‘world citizen – i won’t be disappointed,’ written with RYUICHI SAKAMOTO, is a sublime example, with an impeccable melody and lyric warmed by SYLVIAN’S gorgeous tenor. SYLVIAN has worked with SAKAMOTO for close to three decades. by contrast, on ‘pure genius,’ a collaboration with CHRIS VRENNA aka tweaker, he sounds like he’s walked into a heist flick, singing the part of a delusional, dangerous bedroom genius. as sylvian explains, tracks like this ‘give me a chance to write in a way that’s completely non-personal, playful. it’s an exercise of some kind, working within the parameters of a given assignment.’

intrigue of a different kind drives ‘sugarfuel,’ with music by JEAN-PHILIPPE VERDIN, aka READYMADE FC. the lyrics offered ‘an opportunity to grapple with a more overt sexual theme than anything i’d previously attempted, as suggested by a vocal sample in the original track provided, a threateningly insistent ‘i’m on your side.’ so i took that as my point of entry and ran with it. i would love to write more on this subject should i find the right context. you’re always aware of walking a thin line exploring sexuality with language alone. the failings of the great and the good are strewn all around.’

NINE HORSES’ ‘wonderful world’ strolls in on a black tie bassline and the echoing coos of swedish chanteuse STINA NORDENSTAM, whose high chirps brush hands with SYLVIAN’S lead; there’s the blistering ‘money for all’ by FRIEDMAN and SYLVIAN, an oblique response to the fallout of 9/11 and the war on iraq. this is followed by the last known recording of SYLVIAN’S singing voice in over a decade, ‘do you know me now?’, a live studio recording later augmented by JAN BANG, EIVIND AARSET and ERIK HONORÉ. it’s certainly a title that’s become more relevant over time as SYLVIAN, in the latter stages of his career, repeatedly comes face to face with a new generation of admirers fixated on the life and times of the band formed by his younger self. SYLVIAN is one of only a handful of musicians to have successfully moved on from overt pop beginnings into a domain all his own but is consistently plagued by the misguided desires or expectations of some unfamiliar with his evolution to do a u-turn, pick up where he left off in the late 90s. although this compilation, as well as his writing for NINE HORSES, adequately shows SYLVIAN’S traditional love of melody is
intact, that it’s consistently remained part of his output, there’s no denying his focus has shifted, evolved.
the refusal to embrace complacency, the need to cover new ground ‘as older generations of popular musicians have a moral duty to explore despite, or because of, the greater possibility of failure’ will, i believe, lead to a reassessment of his later work that embraces a sightly more complex relationship with what we’re referring to as ‘melodic’, accompanied by an exploration of improvisation without dogma or beholden to any ‘givens’ for which he’s not infrequently been castigated. for SYLVIAN, there are no such boundaries. it’s obvious that different facets of his work co-exist without conflict but not necessarily for the majority of his audience. again, this places SYLVIAN in the odd, rare, unenviable(?) position of moving forwards leaving many in his devoted audience behind as, should he decide to return to music, it’s unlikely he’ll be aiming to placate an audience in love with work that preceded the 00s. in fact we’ve no idea where new work, should it surface, may lead.

SLEEPWALKERS also spotlights the innovators who contributed to MANAFON and BLEMISH. CHRISTIAN FENNESZ hangs a crackling, shimmering curtain behind the vocal on ‘transit,’ matching his signature mass of sui generis sounds to sylvian’s stately performance. and the title track began with an instrumental handed to SYLVIAN by MARTIN BRANDLMAYR of POLWECHSEL, soon after the first recording session for MANAFON. spite crackles in the gaps between the percussion, and onkyo artists TOSHIMARU NAKAMURA and SACHIKO M set the stage for the scathing lyrics in the chorus.

it cuts close to the bone and so do the two spoken word cuts, ‘angel’ and ‘thermal,’ produced by SAMADHISOUND recording artists JAN BANG and ERIK HONORÉ (and featuring ARVE HENRIKSEN on trumpet). SYLVIAN describes the latter work as a ‘love poem’ to his daughter. ‘‘thermal’ reflects on a period when our time in sonoma, ca was coming to an end. we’d stayed in temporary accommodation which had lulled us into a false sense of security. we had pear, apple, lemon, and figs trees growing in the yard. a small but exotic paradise. a cocoon. but the cracks were beginning to show in the relationship between ex-wife INGRID CHAVEZ and i which is where i think this underlying sense of anxiety, which runs throughout the poem, is derived from, coupled with the need to provide physical and spiritual stability to the children, the youngest of whom was just under two at the time. the poem is addressed to her. our world was dissipating, coming apart at the seams, but we were an island unto ourselves.’

‘five lines’ marked the start of a new partnership with acclaimed young composer DAI FUJIKURA, who at the time of recording was also working on remixes of MANAFON for what became DIED IN THE WOOL. the string quartet was performed by the celebrated ICE ENSEMBLE and written for SYLVIAN, who FUJIKURA cites as an early influence. says SYLVIAN, ‘the composition moves through numerous changes in time signature but as i had no knowledge of what these were i just relied on my gut instinct, and responded, as i always do, with what felt right to me, composing an entirely new melody in the process. some months later i was working in a studio in london and dai dropped by. i rather tentatively asked if he’d like to hear a rough mix of the song as it stood, painfully aware that my contribution might make no sense to him at all but, to my relief he loved the result.’

there’s one further new addition to this collection, the first official release of a track composed in response to the tsunami in fukushma, ‘modern interiors’, featuring SYLVIAN once again in collaboration with BANG and AARSET.

like 2000s EVERYTHING AND NOTHING, SLEEPWALKERS is a retrospective of a particular decade when SYLVIAN was free of major label interference and could follow his own instincts without having to explaining himself – but it’s also an eye-opening complement to his solo releases. as SYLVIAN explains, ‘some collaborations seem to be a one-off exchange but you can never be too certain of that fact. others have been long term. in this respect, RYUICHI comes to mind. there’s others with whom you hope to continue working as you feel you’ve barely scratched the surface. other times offers come out of the blue, welcome, inspired. regardless, it’s wonderfully explorative to have so many possibilities to juggle with. each collaboration seems timely. it’s as if there’s a rightness to the exchange at a given moment in time.’

in the meantime, we hope you enjoy the work presented here, personally selected, remixed and sequenced and entirely remastered. these are the orphans, abused, estranged, exotic, migrating from diverse corners of the globe, brought together under one roof which they're learning to share despite their differences.

‘as many of you will already be aware, despite relatively continuous work on solo albums, i’ve maintained strong ties with a number of musicians throughout my life in one context or another. on this new collection, let’s call it SLEEPWALKERS 2.0, a selection of collaborative work produced over the period encompassing blemish through to manafon, i’ve included compositions by nine horses as well as more fleeting flirtations and one-offs. neglected offspring. represented also is long term friend and writing partner, RYUICHI SAKAMOTO, as well as more recent but potentially equally productive partnerships such as CHRISTIAN FENNESZ, ARVE HENRIKSEN and contemporary classical composer DAI FUJIKURA.
i hope you enjoy the work presented here, personally selected, remixed and sequenced and entirely remastered. these are the orphans, abused, estranged, exotic, migrating from diverse corners of the globe, brought together under one roof which they're learning to share despite their differences.

we contain multitudes. we’re nothing if not contradictory.’

DAVID SYLVIAN, 2010

(consistency is contrary to nature, contrary to life: aldous huxley)

By now counting more than four decades of constant activity, Pierre Bastien erected such a towering and influential body of work that any blurb attempt regarding his music could easily fall into redundancy. Not that his revolving soundworld, deeply personal and unique, has ever stalled into gimmick or self mimicry, being Bastien the tireless explorer whose vision can never be complete, only continuously redefined in a process of discovery equally playful and challenging. So, completely in touch with Discrepant's ethos. 

Returning to the label after 2017 The Mecanocentric Worlds of Pierre Bastien, the french musician, composer and instrument builder, brings an array of instruments from different cartographies and legacies with the appropriately titled Sonic Folkways. Resorting to different types of horns, prepared trumpet, an army of percussion, from gongs and tambourine to castanets and maracas, violin and too many others to mention here, Bastien weaves together a highly textured and hypnotic mosaic that projects an exotica beamed from scraps of the future. 'Aha!' in the same interstellar wavelength as Sun Ra's cosmic tones, 'Moor's Room’ almost orchestral tapestry of small percussion and insects or the non-western strings and tunings salvaged from ancient alien ceremonies on 'Pan's Nap'. 

In an era where so much ink has been shed about world building in experimental music, Bastien can actually claim that to himself. The otherworld is right here, indeed.

Now available at a much cheaper price. SOS JFK, the one and only album from folk two-piece The Children’s Hour, which featured Josephine Foster and Andy Bar. Initially released in 2003, the album introduced audiences to Foster’s enchanting vocals and poetic folk, which would be developed to staggering effect in her later solo recordings, such as the recently released critically acclaimed album Blood Rushing (Fire Records). The Children’s Hour were an acoustic duo comprised of members Andy Bar and Josephine Foster. The two friends first connected in 2000 in a short-lived rock trio called Golden Egg, and then on a lark formed the pop song-writing duo oriented toward more naïve themes. Foster was a recent opera school dropout and the band became a vehicle for her to explore singing in a non-operatic manner into a microphone and learn to play the guitar. Bar was finishing studies at the Art Institute of Chicago and was honing a personal and highly melodic fingerpicking style inspired by bossa nova in particular. They were heard performing in a Chicago dive bar and given a surprise invitation to make a studio recording (SOS JFK), which both found to be an extremely nerve-wrecking learning experience. Meanwhile fans of their music rose up from unexpected corners, even invited by the band Zwan to open all the shows of both bands´ maiden tour. Initially conceived of as a modest front porch collaboration and side project, the band did not withstand all the attention long. Bar and Foster took meandering paths in diverse directions, although the two remain stalwart pals and both continue to dedicate themselves to the muses.

Having initially met more than a decade ago at a local community radio station, sometimes doing guest slots on each other’s live, improvised noise shows, Cormac Culkeen and Dave Grenon knew they had a mutual interest in working with sonic textures. They listened to each other’s bands for a handful of years, and in 2017, “made good on a threat” that they’d been making for quite a long time: to start a band. At Cormac’s gentle but clear urging—declaring that they’d gone ahead and booked a space in which to record a video—the two wrote their first song, “Sebaldus,” an ambitious 12-minute trip, which also serves as the fireworks finale to their self-titled debut album. With surges of pathos that smooth out into something more soothing in turn, Cormac goes: “The hunter, you’ve seen him / The archer, his arrows are strong / And hunger, you’ve known her / I know the winter is long.” The track is as much about enduring a Canadian winter as it is about the eponymous 8th century hermit, shot through with sublimated desire. As Cormac put it, Joyful Joyful’s songs are “a little bit outside of time.” But while the lyrics beg close, oblique reading unto themselves, there’s also a distinct sense that they’re only one of many more ways that the duo shapes sound. Cormac, whose voice is like a sea with irregular tides, lights up about an idea in traditional sean-nós Irish music that songs already exist and are out there; it’s up to the singer to become the conduit. This belief in music as something to be channelled, and something more than sound, resonates with the singer’s fundamentalist religious past. To paraphrase: lots of group singing, harmonies, no instrumentation, totally unmediated, no priest, congregational—not choral, not a performance, not about talent, the spirit moves through people. “Of course that informs how I think about singing,” Cormac says. So, when they were exiled from the church because of their queerness, they took the music with them, dislocating it from its dogmatic bounds but not from its transcendent potential. This record might be thought of, then, as a kind of queering of sacred, devotional traditions—or at the very least, a space where all of these things can be held at once. Perhaps perceivable by some as contradictions, these intersecting influences create the conditions for an incredibly singular sound. Dave is steady and exploratory in his handling of this multiplicity, arranging sounds as they’re revealed, corralling them, coaxing them into form. “Because Dave is there,” Cormac says, “I get to sing three times higher, and three times lower, and faster, and backwards, and all of these sounds! That are there. They’re all there.” When asked about early musical memories, Cormac recalled an immediate fascination with harmony: from demanding that the first person they ever heard singing it explain what they were doing, to always (still, to this day) singing in harmony with their twin sister around the house, to being part of a children’s choir that sang soprano in Handel’s Messiah—not realizing until they entered the room with all the other ranges that their learned melody was but one part of the whole. Just as tellingly, Dave reflects on his early attraction to “abstraction and becoming abstract,” describing childhood afternoons messing with microphone and speaker feedback loops, producing long, enduring sounds with almost undetectable variations. In a way unique to the coalescing of these two listeners, notions of harmony are central to their output. Dave samples field recordings, old keyboards and synths, and vocal drones, running the live singing through four or five parallel effects chains, sampling and treating everything again in the moment. “Another way to put it is that Cormac’s voice comes into the board and then comes back out shifted, delayed, and shattered; Cormac and I hear it, live with it, and respond,” Dave says. This work is contingent not only on a deep intuition (neither of them read sheet music) of polyphony and due proportion (something St Thomas Aquinas famously listed as an attribute of beauty) but also on their connection to each other and ability to read subtle cues. Dave says they’d hold each other’s hands while performing if it was more convenient to do so, riffing on something else Cormac mentioned about traditional Irish singing: that someone would always hold the singer’s hand, for fear that without a tether to the ground they might find themselves utterly lost, unsure how to return. Joyful Joyful doesn’t shy away from offering such experiences of departure; they’re willing to unsettle their audiences because they themselves are unsettled. Their shared penchant for spooky, heavy music, and self-described “omnivorous” listening practices equip them with an array of sonic concepts that support this effort; Diamanda Galás, The Rankin Family, Pan Sonic, Pauline Oliveros, Keith Fullerton Whitman, Yma Sumac, and Catholic hymnody were just a few that came up. Observing their audience gives them insight about the effect of each song—something they considered while arranging the album. Its arc is marked by soft, sometimes sudden oscillations between cacophony and euphony, day and night (listen for insects), and from sexual, visceral entanglements to more ephemeral, celestial ones. Front to back, it arouses expansion, unraveling. Of lightning, Vicki Kirby writes: “quite curious initiation rites precede these electrical encounters. An intriguing communication, a sort of stuttering chatter between the ground and the sky, appears to anticipate the actual stroke.” By all accounts, something similar seems to happen at Joyful Joyful shows, between those on the stage and those off it, between what’s earthly and what’s beyond. “A lightning bolt is not a straightforward resolution of the buildup of a charge difference between the earth and a cloud … there is, as it were, some kind of nonlocal communication effected between the two,” writes Karen Barad, extrapolating on Kirby’s thought. Cormac acknowledges that while they and Dave play a role in this mysterious charge that comes about, they’re not solely responsible. However ineffable it may be, it’s undoubtedly a form of communion—and a sensuously shocking one at that

2022 Repress

Apichatpong Weerasethakul is recognised as one of the most original voices in contemporary cinema today. His seven feature films, short films and installations have won him widespread international recognition and numerous awards, including the Cannes Palme d'Or in 2010 with Uncle Boonmee Who Can Recall His Past Lives.

This compilation album 'Metaphors' contains 14 soundworks carefully selected from his past cinema and other visual works since 2003, which includes Uncle Boonmee Who Can Recall His Past Lives, Syndromes and a Century, Fever Room and more.

Apichatpong has regularly worked with the same sound designers since 2003 and has always given importance to the personality of on-location sounds giving his films a sense of continuity. In post-production, he's fascinated by the manipulation of these 'live' sounds in order to express 'reality'. This reality doesn't necessary represent the actual sound of the places, but more a representation of the world in layered memories. Similar to the way he treats images, Apichatpong sometimes calls attention to the physicality and the fragility of the audio (and its apparatus) and to the process of audio manipulation itself. In his cinema, Apichatpong prefers natural sound sources over music. Nevertheless, he often boldly incorporates popular songs that were persistent during the shooting. He doesn't shy away from using tunes that relate to his own personal memories. In this sense, Apichatpong values the spirit of authenticity much more than rigid manipulation of audio and weaves a complex and dreamlike soundscape in his cinematic repertoire.

Born in Bangkok, Apichatpong grew up in Khon Kaen in north-eastern Thailand. He began making films and video shorts in 1994 and completed his first feature in 2000. He has also mounted exhibitions and installations in many countries since 1998 and is now recognised as a major international visual artist. His art prizes include the Sharjah Biennial Prize (2013) and the prestigious Prince Claus Award (2016), the Netherlands. Lyrical and often fascinatingly mysterious, his film works are non-linear, dealing with memory and in subtle ways invoking personal politics and social issues.

Rock'n'Roll hits adapted and sung in Italiano to seduce an exotic and difficult music market. A tradition that saw many stars (Mick Jagger, Françoise Hardy...) test their pronounciation skills with swinging (but always very fun) results. Now its The Courettes' turn, to translate two of their newest songs for a special limited single 7'', released in time for their southern Europe tour and the Record Store Day 2022. Anzi, LE FAVOLOSE COURETTES, volevamo dire “the real deal” (Vive Le Rock, UK) “the real sound of now busting through your door” (Rolling Stone, USA)! “the world’s greatest two person rock n’ roll ensemble” (The Next Big Thing, UK) “Your new favourite band once you ve heard them!” (Louder Than War, UK) The Courettes. “A force to be reckoned with. Matching the garage rock ferocity of The Sonics to prime early 60s girl group, the band’s output is utterly feral in the most addictive possible way. Reminiscent of The Ronettes given a Ramones style overhaul, their evil charms arrive covered in blood-soaked glamour. Twanging guitar and raucous percussion, a wild head-long charge into the unknown.” (The Clash Magazine, UK) The Courettes is an explosive rock duo from Denmark and Brazil who found the perfect blend between garage rock, 60s Girl Group, Wall of Sound, surf music and doo wop. Like The Ronettes meet The Ramones at a wild party at Gold Star Studios echo chamber. Praised by the biggest music magazines around the world, in 2020 the band signed with legendary British label Damaged Goods, putting them on the same roster as top international rock icons like Buzzcocks, Manic Street Preaches, Atari Teenage Riot, New Bomb Turks, Amyl and the Sniffers, Billy Childish, Captain Sensible and many others. Their last and third album, “Back in Mono” was released in the Fall 2021 and is a truly milestone in the career. The album brings the band in top form, showing great songwriting skills and with broader nuances, influences and sound qualities to their garage rock recipe. Their last singles, “Want You! Like a Cigarette”, “Hop The Twig” and “R.I.N.G.O.” all got airplay at BBC 6 Radio in England and radio stations in Europe and the USA. “Back in Mono” got top reviews in the main music magazines like Mojo, Classic Rock and Shindig and was featured in countless Best Albums of 2021 lists: “Exuberant third release, a giddying rush of noise” (MOJO, UK) 4 out of 5 stars “Seems like the best record you’ve ever heard. A rock n’ roll sacrament from your new favourite band.” (Classic Rock Magazine, UK) 9 out 10 stars “Sensational good album!” (Ox Magazine, Germany) 9 out of 10 stars “Just keeps getting better and better” (Shindig!, UK) 4 out of 5 stars “Fantastic album” (Louder Than War, UK) 4,5 out of 5 stars “A complete riot” (The Arts Desk, UK) 4 out of 5 stars “14 new original tracks–all killer” (Add to want list, UK) “The whole album is one long highlight” (UK Rock n’ Roll) “Exciting combination of Wall of Sound and Fuzz” (El Periodico, Spain) 4 out of 5 “A collection of perfect songs, full-blown instant classic” (Triste Sunset, Italy)

 Ty Segall meets a new non-rock challenge head-on; soundtrack music for
Matt Yoka’s compelling documentary film ‘Whirlybird’. A variety of synth
sounds, electric keyboards, drums, percussion and saxophone (and yeah, a
few guitars) form a shifting impressionist counterpart, instrumental music that
dialogues with and serves to frame the film’s compulsive themes and
images.
 Released to great acclaim in Summer 2021, ‘Whirlybird’ tells the story of
Zoey Tur and Marika Gerrard, former partners and founders of the Los
Angeles News Service, and deftly tracks their extraordinary and oftenreckless pursuit of breaking news throughout the 80s and 90s - a time in
which they pioneered the use of a helicopter to report on Los Angeles at its
most chaotic, capturing historical moments like the 1992 riots and the OJ
Simpson slow speed pursuit.
 Through striking interviews and one-of-a-kind archival footage, Yoka’s
documentary expertly tells the story of Zoey and Marika’s unravelling
marriage as they singlehandedly changed broadcast news forever. These
two arcs intertwine to create an electric view of the encroaching intensities of
that era, when the 24-hour news cycle first rose to dominate our national
consciousness.
 Ty Segall has previously scored scenes and interstitial bits for film and video
things here and there - but this is his first full-on feature film score, a work
done in collaboration with the director, whose friendship and creative
partnership with Ty has grown over a decade-plus of music videos and other
projects. Working off notes and feels from Matt and responding to the images
and story on screen, Ty crafted some of his most creative arrangements to
date, using synth, drum machine, Wurlitzer keyboard, guitars, drums and
percussion (plus saxes played by Mikal Cronin, who also cowrote the title
track with Ty) to articulate a multitude of tones running through the film.
 For a shape-shifter like Ty, this apex of tone colour is no mean feat, an
achievement further highlighted by the full set of pieces. Rather than simply
throw a bunch of songs-with-singing at the project, Ty’s score perfectly
epitomizes the film’s ethos, providing an instrumental counterpart that
dialogues with and helps frame the film’s provocative themes and images.
 As both Matt and Ty are natives to the Southern Californian milieu,
particularly the era ‘Whirlybird’ depicts, their collaboration involved a journey
through their past. In realizing the music, they revisited their own Los
Angeles awakenings, adding another personal layer to the deeply felt
meditations and elegies sighted by the remarkable ‘Whirlybird’ - now an
equally thrilling counterpart to be experienced through the original
soundtrack.

»Tides« marked a radical change in direction for Arovane. After Uwe Zahn had made a name for himself with cutting-edge IDM rhythms and slick ambient textures on a slew of releases, his sophomore album saw the prolific producer opt for a sample-based approach that resulted in a more organic sound and laid-back downbeat grooves. Having reissued Arovane’s seminal »Atol-Scrap« as a double LP in 2021, the Berlin-based Keplar label now makes »Tides« available on vinyl for the first time since its original release in 2000 through the legendary City Centre Offices. The new version has been remastered by Kassian Troyer at Dubplates & Mastering and comes with a brand new cover artwork. It shines a new light on a release for which Zahn quite literally ventured into previously unknown territory — »Tides« is an album that emits a timeless, quiet calm and nonetheless stays constantly in motion.

»The idea for the album came to me after a vacation in France«, says Zahn. Inspired by the landscape, especially the coastline and the sea, he made field recordings throughout his trip that were also used on the record, giving it its sensual feel. The foundation of the album however, the loose yet gripping grooves at the heart of every track, result from Zahn working extensively with samples. »I wanted to make use of drum sounds and small excerpts from old jazz vinyl records«, he explains. He maintained the unique sound signatures and rhythmic flutter of the source material while building intricate beats with them. Most of the material was culled from the record collection of Christian Kleine, whose spontaneous guitar improvisations over the first musical sketches were recorded and edited by Zahn and can be heard on four tracks. Also employing the occasional cembalo or spinet sound, he worked with a hardware sequencer and a delay to integrate the different, discrete elements into nine tracks that feel both dense and light at once.

What’s astonishing still 22 years later is how spacious »Tides« sounds. This is due to the fact that Zahn not only paid close attention to the sonic idiosyncrasies of his source material, but also to what happened in between those sounds. »Mark Hollis’s solo album was a huge inspiration at that time«, says Zahn. »What I find fascinating about it until this day is how silence and the subtle hiss of the mixing boards were being used on that record.« Silence was also an important stylistic element on »Tides« and adds greatly to the overall atmosphere of an album that with the appropriately named »Theme« immediately sets the mood with intricate spinet melodies: Zahn opens a door for his listeners and invites them to follow him to see a specific part of the world through his very own lens.

As a whole, the album mirrors Zahn’s trip that took him along the steep cliffs on a foggy day (»Seaside«), to an abandoned house in which he found old maps (»A Secret«), along the coastline during a long car ride (»Deauville«), to a sleepy village and the slowly moving sea (»Tides«) and finally back home to his native Germany where he started reflecting upon his experiences, ultimately deciding to translate them into music (»Epilogue«). »Whenever I listen to this album now, the images and memories it evokes are incredibly vivid and vibrant«, he says. It’s not hard to see — or rather hear — why. »Tides« may have been a deeply personal project, but it effortlessly evokes universal feelings by (re-)building an entire world in the course of only a few pieces of music.

ENVY OF NONE IS THE NEW BAND & DEBUT ALBUM FROM ALEX
LIFESON (RUSH), ANDY CURRAN (CONEY HATCH), ALFIO ANNIBALINI &
SINGER MAIAH WYNNE
The ambient, cinematic darkness that the collective creates evokes a
powerful atmosphere that will excite superfans & new audiences alike
Lifeson & Curran's long-time friendship was the catalyst for the band's inception -
but Envy Of None is not defined by its members resumes - they aren't Rush or
Coney Hatch & far more than the sum of its collective parts.
Above the beautiful cacophony of guitars, synths, bass & drums sits the fragile
melodies of 24- year old vocalist Maiah Wynne - the newest name in Envy Of
None's impressive personnel. Hearing Mariah's voice intertwined with the music
will bring back memories of when you heard Shirley Manson of Garbage or Amy
Lee of Evanescence for the first time. Wynne brings charm & beauty to these
recordings in spades - with floating hooks & emotive lyrics transcending the
oftentimes textural aesthetic.
The Storm Thorgerson- esque visuals that grace the cover may remind fans of
Lifeson's earlier work - Andy Curran explains: "the Hypnosis style artwork of
albums like Pink Floyd & Led Zeppelin & others were so eye catching, surreal &
attention grabbing & we wanted to scratch that itch. We were instantly drawn to
Lebanese photographer Eli Rezkallah at Plastik's photography & design work. We
fell in love with a bunch of his work - we had a hard time choosing something
because he had so many great images". However, the 70s prog/ Rush
comparisons may end with the artwork - the music that this ensemble creates
treads new ground with each track throughout their 42- minute debut, from
industrial/electronic influences to post-progressive soundscapes. Envy Of None
create a sound that will haunt, comfort & ignite.
"If you can picture maybe Massive Attack with a little bit of some electronic stuff
with Nine Inch Nails influences, with this beautiful, fragile, sweet voice & some
very, very dark heavy sounds" - Andy Curran (Envy Of None)

Sprints unveil details of their ‘A Modern Job’ EP, out on Nice Swan
Records.
 Lyrically, ‘Modern Job’ finds singer Karla Chubb at her sardonic and
angry best, detailing her own personal wish list: “I wish I had the guts / I
wish I had the gall / I wish I had a girl,” all set to cascading guitars and a
formidable rhythm section; working in unison to create unrelenting
tension, all the while echoing the subject matter Chubb explores in her
lyrics.
 On the new single, Karla offers the following: “‘Modern Job’ is a critique
of modern existence but also an exploration of growing up queer. In your
formative years, you are bombarded with media, books, news that depict
what a ‘normal’ life should be. Grow up, fall in love, get married… long
live the nuclear family.
 “By contrast when you grow up queer all these ordinary things can seem
extraordinary, out of reach and in some parts of the world, illegal. It
leaves you feeling lost, excluded and confused. I wanted ‘Modern Job’ to
capture those feelings; chaotic energy, loneliness and longing of
normality while trying to find acceptance within yourself.”
 Sprints have received support from the likes The Guardian, Clash, NME,
DIY and Dork, as well as love at Radio 1 and Radio 6 Music. Recent
single ‘How Does The Story Go?’ (also on the EP) was premiered by
Steve Lamacq, who praised it as “their best song yet! These guys are
going to be something,” The single was also leading in playlists from
NME, Loud & Quiet and others.
 Sprints combine guitar-driven hooks, motoric rhythm and emotive
lyricism to create a unique sound that pulls from garage, grunge, punk
and beyond. Like the Irish guitar acts who have paved the way for them -
Fontaines D.C., Silverbacks and Girl Band - the sound of Sprints is
urgent and vital at every turn.
 Sprints have hit a nerve. Driven by experience, tough political climates
and social and economic uncertainty - their music is honest, often
politically charged and authentic.
 “On course towards future raucous, beer-soaked headline festival sets.” -
NME
 “Screw-you power, relentless motorik rhythms and impressively large
choruses.” - The Guardian
 "Sprints may be the latest to emerge from Dublin’s fertile stable of guitarwielding new heroes, but their two-fingers-up, no-nonsense rattle ‘n’ roll
arrives as the natural heir to Amyl and the Sniffers’ grot punk” - DIY

“Boot licking, piss drinking, finger frigging, tit tweaking, love biting, arse licking, shit stabbing, motherfucking, spunk loving, ball busting, cock sucking, fist fucking, lip smacking, thirst quenching, cool living, ever giving…”

There’s no fairer introduction to ‘Fist’, Joshua James’ latest contribution to Phantasy, than to advise one simply to prepare themselves. Sampling iconic performance artist, club promoter and designer Leigh Bowery, James connects the expert dancefloor pressure he exacts each weekend as one of London’s best-loved club residents with the unapologetic, defiant legacy of a personal hero. None other than Peaches then takes up the remix mantle for ‘Fist’, intertwining the provocations of two radical performers and connecting three generations of underground queer culture in one sonic menage-a-trois, perhaps the straight-up rudest club record in recent memory.

On the original production, James shifts his sound in a heavier direction still since last summer’s euphoric Amber Rush, which was remixed by labelmate and friend Daniel Avery. A bouncing industrial tilt underscores the heavy-duty production, as Bowery, originally recording alongside Richard Torry in their band Minty, espouses a catalogue of sexual acts - some specialist, all sensational - as James pushes dancers further down into the belly of some revolting rave beast.

A multi-faceted match to Bowery themselves, Peaches continues a decades-long journey dedicated to genre and gender deconstruction with her wild and playful take on ‘Fist’. Dripping in cybernetic club juice, Peaches wraps herself around Bowery’s own teaches on the mic, easily matching his demands as she careens towards a system-rattling techno conclusion.

After a quarter century of nearly nonstop activity, dystopian Detroit synth-punk institution ADULT. have perfected a strain of stylistic cohesion in the album format, "but for this we wanted something that's falling apart." Becoming Undone, the 9th official full-length by cofounders Nicola Kuperus and Adam Lee Miller, explicitly succeeds in this aim, simultaneously rejecting and reflecting the planetary discord that inspired it. Begun in the latter half of 2020 against a backdrop of unprecedented flux and seismic isolation, the duo kickstarted their muse by sourcing fresh additions to the rig: a vocal loop pedal for Kuperus and Roland percussion pads for Miller. Reconnecting with legacy influences like the politicized industrial percussion of Test Department and the queasy miscreant synthetics of TG's 20 Jazz Funk Greats sparked a series of fruitfully frenetic sessions, centered on themes of impermanence and dissonance. Miller's rationale is blunt: "We weren't interested in melody or harmony since we didn't see the world having that." From the tense technoid blitz of "Undoing / Undone" to the twitchy EBM of "Fools (We Are_)" and "I Am Nothing," the sides bristle with strident acidic revolt and black leather sequential circuits, unhinged and unforgiving. Elsewhere, slower tempos of purgatorial unraveling ("Normative Sludge," "She's Nice Looking") showcase a breadth of vocal FX, Kuperus sounding alternately indignant and possessed, decrying the crimes, fears, and failings of a deluded world. Throughout, the band's chemistry crackles with revulsion and strobe-lit dissent, equal parts exorcism and denunciation. "Humans have always been pretty terrible," Kuperus explains. "But every year the compromises of culture just accelerate." Becoming Undone is also freighted with a more personal pain, as Kuperus' father passed away during the height of the pandemic, just before the album took root. As his hospice caretakers, she and Miller faced the banality of finality, surrounded by objects drained of meaning, "the joy of having a body, but also the drudgery of having one." The record's bewitching closing track, "Teeth Out Pt. II" - which happens to be the first ADULT. song in the group's history without drums - speaks to this sense of doomed corporeal mass and the looming, lightless unknown that binds us all. A seasick haze swells and subsides in slow, low waves, flickering with ring modulation, above which Kuperus sings in a dazed, brooding, transcendent state, as if having finally glimpsed beyond the pale: "Some day / some day I will be silent and free / of this relentless gravity."

Nonesuch Records releases Ghost Song, the label debut of singer/songwriter Cécile McLorin Salvant. Ghost Song features a diverse mix of seven originals and five interpretations on the themes of ghosts, nostalgia, and yearning. Salvant says, “It’s unlike anything I’ve done before – it’s getting closer to reflecting my personality as an eclectic curator. I’m embracing my weirdness!” Cécile McLorin Salvant plays at Cadogan Hall on November 16 as part of the EFG London Jazz Festival, four shows at SFJAZZ in February, and two nights featuring the music of Ghost Song at Jazz at Lincoln Center in May. Salvant says of the title track, out now, “What if the love has gone, the love has left you and you have the emotions around that, and you’re still going through them, still engaging with the ghost of that love?” She continues, “Some songs are so painful to come out but this one came out pretty quickly. I’ve had some loss the last couple of years: my grandmother, the drummer in my band Lawrence Leathers.”



Ghost Song opens and ends with a sean-nós (traditional Irish unaccompanied vocal style) performance by Salvant, recorded in a church. On track one, she transitions into Kate Bush’s 1978 classic ‘Wuthering Heights’. Salvant says of the song, “Wuthering Heights is a book that really struck me to my core as I was making this album, during the pandemic. And the best interpretation of the novel is Kate Bush’s song.” She continues, “It’s the most classic ghost story. I decided I wanted to do an album called Ghost Song, and I knew that one had to be on it. Then I had the idea to mix it in with the sean-nós ‘Cúirt Bhaile Nua’, which binds it to the traditional ‘Unquiet Grave’, the last track on the album. The ghost is not haunting me; now I am haunting the ghost. They parallel each other so well and they’re such different time periods. I wanted the album to be a circle, with the sean-nós reference at the beginning and at the end. So it is the first track but it’s also the last track and it’s also the middle track, which is how I listen to music, walking around my neighborhood, on a plane, travelling somewhere, putting stuff on repeat.” “All the songs on the album kind of mirror each other. I tried to create this strange symmetry. So as you go in from both ends, the songs are sort of matched together,” Salvant says. “‘I Lost my Mind’ is the center of the Russian doll. I wrote that in the middle of the pandemic. There were nights when I wanted to just scream. It was this deeper part of me saying, ‘It’s OK if this sounds completely crazy, OK to just go with the completely crazy thing and not worry if people think you have lost your mind for doing it.’



“The bands also mirror each other from top to bottom. In terms of the instrumentation, everything,” Salvant explains. “That’s why the songs are there in that relationship: they match each other, they’re like fraternal twins, or one is the evil twin of the other. I, as the living, am visited by the ghost, and then I go visit the ghost in turn. I am haunting the ghost and annoying the ghost, which is saying, ‘Get out of here and go live.’” Of the sonic variety on Ghost Song, Salvant says, “Texture is a big part of how I sing, having multiple textures in one song. It’s almost a compulsion. I can’t allow myself to stay in one texture. The instrumentation creates that but the recording process as well. It’s something I like, even when I’m eating. You want the creamy and chewy and crunchy at the same time. Warm and cold.”



Cécile McLorin Salvant, a 2020 MacArthur Fellow and three-time Grammy Award winner, is a singer and composer bringing historical perspective, a renewed sense of drama, and an enlightened musical understanding to both jazz standards and her own original compositions. Classically trained, steeped in jazz, blues, and folk, and drawing from musical theater and vaudeville, Salvant embraces a wide-ranging repertoire that broadens the possibilities for live performance. Salvant’s performances range from spare duets for voice and piano to instrumental trios to orchestral ensembles. Her unreleased work Ogresse is an ambitious long-form song cycle based on oral fairy tales from the nineteenth century that explores the nature of freedom and desire in a racialized, patriarchal world. Salvant studied at the Université Pierre Mendès-France. She has performed at national and international venues and festivals such as the Newport Jazz Festival, the Monterey Jazz Festival, the Village Vanguard, and the Kennedy Center. Salvant is also a visual artist.

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

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

The Ring Orchestra is an eight-person effort, a collective coming together to tackle opera and one of the genre’s controversial poster boys. 18 compositions, the artists Born in Flamez, Gil Schneider, Simonne Jones, Leo Luchini, Legion Seven, P.A. Hülsenbeck, Isa GT, and Ixa create a collaborative musical score that uses Richard Wagner’s Der Ring des Nibelungen as the point of departure. Originally, the music was cre-ated for a staging of Der Ring des Nibelungen at Schauspielhaus Zürich, directed by Christopher Rüping and written by Necati Öziri. Far from being an affirmative tribute, the orchestra sets out to decon-struct and break down what Wagner and his opus magnum represent: collaboration over singularity and openness instead of conservative rigidity. The resulting score doesn’t shy away from ambivalence by de-centralizing authorship and encompassing everything from ambient to pop, reggaeton, and a wider vari-ety of non-western musical influences.

"The core of confusion and upheaval that drove some of the band's most fiery earlier work, however, is replaced by a more stabilized undercurrent, a mentality that's reflected in songs not afraid to try new things and honestly explore uncomfortable feelings. When combined with exciting production and songwriting choices, that mindset helps make Feels So Good // Feels So Bad one of the Shivas' best albums.” - AllMusic "Portland, Oregon-hailing psych-surf band The Shivas accomplish another time-traveling, reverb-ridden sound that refuses to get boring. Jared Molyneux’s guitar work knows when to be bright or bashful at the right times, breaking into guitar solos that possess a late-’60s groove… The Shivas seem to blissfully flourish” - Paste "a consistent treat for the ears” - The Vinyl District "Though the psych-tinged guitar riff that drives 'Feels So Bad' was written while The Shivas were still on the road, its lyrics didn’t fall into place until the band was well into lockdown, unsure of when they’d be able to return to their most imperative true love: Live shows... Accordingly, 'Feels So Bad' permeates with a sense of urgent desperation, building off a chugging prog-rock instrumental.” - Consequence (on “Feels So Bad”) "They hooked the audience with their throwback rock sounds. The guitar strums and rhythmic drum beats were layered atop smooth and hallucinogenic vocals. The eyes can tell the take at times and there was a sparkle there that said that the band members just love doing live performances." - California Rocker "This single layers on the fuzz but keeps it dreamy, with an especially sticky guitar riff sure to lodge itself in your brain with minimal effort." - Portland Monthly (on “If I Could Choose”) “'My Baby Don’t' translates the genuine vibrant joy


of the live experience into the studio, bringing the band’s ‘60s garage rock roots, sharp pop vocal harmonies, and fervent performances along for the ride." - Under The Radar "Perfectly straddling the line between a solid-head bopping track and an introspective deep cut, The Shivas’ 'Undone' is a rock & roll gem. The track sounds straight out of the late 60s and fits seamlessly in the Portland band’s electrifying catalog." - The Luna Collective "The first time I clicked play on this track, I knew it was a yes for me." - Ear To The Ground Music (on “If I Could Choose”) "The harmonies would make the “Happy Together” Turtles blush, but the unsettling guitar doesn’t shy away from the woollier implications of the ’60s." - Willamette Week (on “If I Could Choose”) "'Undone' is just the perfect song for the good days and the bad ones." - GlamGlare "another hit" - Austin Town Hall (on “Undone”) "one of the best forthcoming albums of the year" - Austin Town Hall RADIO: #3 Most Added @ NACC - 50 official adds BIO Every working musician has had their life turned upside down by Covid-19. For The Shivas, who had recently released a new LP and normally keep a rigorous touring schedule, it was a particularly screeching halt. “We were about to go to SXSW, the following weekend was Treefort in Boise, and then we were going to open for our friends’ band on tour in the US before going to Europe,” Jared Molyneux remembers. Then everything just stopped. They were faced with a dilemma. “It forced us to adapt or just quit,” Molyneux says. “The reality is that shows are our job.” In truth, live shows aren’t just The Shivas job: they are the band’s greatest love. Shivas shows are bombastic, explosive and thoroughly communal live rock and roll experiences where barriers between the performers and their audience seem to dissolve into the sweat and sound. The stage—or the basement, or the living room—that’s The Shivas’ true element. It’s their raison d’etre. It’s their religion. The band’s live urgency may have been born in 2006, when the band’s young members—who began booking West Coast tours while still in high school—waited without fanfare on sidewalks or in parking lots, before being rushed onstage for their sets at 21-and-up clubs. Maybe it developed a little later, as The Shivas blasted their way through Portland’s storied and unsanctioned mid-aughts house show scene. Whatever the origin of their famously kinetic live experience, it’s the show that keeps them coming back after over 1,000 performances spread over 25 countries in 15 years. In those 15 years, The Shivas have grown tight-knit as a group. Guitarist/singer Jared Molyneux, bassist Eric Shanafelt and drummer/singer Kristin Leonard have all been with the band since its earliest days; guitarist Jeff City, another high school friend, joined in 2017. Together they’ve learned to thread a seemingly impossible needle: They’ve honed and tightened their performances without sacrificing the element of surprise that makes each show special. And despite touring and recording for most of their lives, they speak about their project with humility, in the DIY vernacular of their Pacific Northwest upbringing. They talk up their own favorite bands, play all-ages shows as much as possible, and bring a sort of blue-collar humanism to the live performances they relish so much. “We just want to make people feel good,” Molyneux says. “We want them to forget they have to work tomorrow.” Kristin Leonard elaborates, “The live show is all about that feeling of catharsis—in ourselves and in everyone who comes out. We’re creating this safe space where we can all let go. Where we can exhale. And it feels really good when we are able to facilitate that.” So when Covid hit, the band knew it was time for transformation. After a settling realization that live music would be grounded for the foreseeable future, The Shivas booked significant studio time with Cameron Spies, who also produced the 2019 Dark Thoughts LP. They also transformed their lives: three of the band’s four members found work with a local nonprofit serving unhoused Portland residents. They became engaged in protests and fundraisers for social justice. They spent a whole summer actually living in Portland, settling into the city they had always called home, but that sometimes felt like a temporary stop between tours. “We got into a more community-minded headspace,” Leonard says. “And that did give us some purpose. It felt cool to see everybody come together to stick up for what they believe in. It feels like an incredibly formative last twelve months.” The album that emerged from this new moment finds The Shivas reborn as a band that seems seasoned and perfectly at home with itself. There is a calm, even a hopefulness, to Feels So Good // Feels So Bad that sounds new. The Shivas didn’t write or record the album with a particular theme in mind, but one seems to have emerged: where Dark Thoughts was about confronting your demons with fearless self-examination, much of Feels So Good // Feels So Bad is about what happens once you find that peace: how being honest with yourself changes your relationships and your priorities. “I do think it’s about acceptance,” Leonard says. “There’s a weird relaxation that comes with being at peace with things you can’t control or have regrets about.” Maybe that’s why the squealing, riff-laden break-up song opener, “Feels So Bad,” is such a shock to the system. But it’s more of an exorcism than a melodrama: more a song about not being able to do the thing you love (in


this case, playing live shows) than splitting with a partner. “It’s like part of you goes to sleep,” Leonard says. As bandmates who are also in a long-term relationship, Molyneux and Leonard know that their songs might be seen as glimpses into their personal lives, but their songwriting is rarely autobiography. Leonard compares their process to something more akin to screenwriting. “There’s bound to be some autobiographical material in there,” she says. “But the common denominator is the exploration of universal feelings: ones that everyone experiences or can relate to.” The goal is to use the music to drill down into something genuine and sincere, beyond genre or stylistic affectation. That’s where The Shivas have arrived. Whatever growth led the band to Feels So Good // Feels So Bad, plenty of their fascinations remain. They’re still turning love songs into psychedelic, transcendent epics. “Tell Me That You Love Me” subverts doo-wop extravagance and dabbles in Flamenco rhythms. “Rock Me Baby” is a bubblegum anthem soaked in so much reverb that we might just be hearing it from the stadium nosebleeds. “Sometimes” is almost impossibly huge, like a witchy outtake from the Brill Building era. Those songs feel like logical expansions from a band that has always excelled at a timeless sort of rock and roll that tinkers with and explodes elements from every era. But on the towering and mournful “You Wanna Be My Man,” a slow-burning six-minute shoegaze prayer for a higher sort of love, there is a level of emotional nuance that feels like something altogether revolutionary. It’s there again in the stripped-down vulnerability of the album-closing elegy “Please Don’t Go.” Yes, Feels So Good // Feels So Bad is an album about acceptance. Sometimes that acceptance feels enlightened and sometimes it feels like the end result of a lot of kicking and screaming. The Shivas have adapted in both of those ways. With new tours scheduled and a new album on the way, they’re still hoping--like all of us--for a new era of vibrant, cathartic live music. The lessons they learned from having their normal upended, though, have only helped them grow