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Nils Frahm has unexpectedly confirmed details of a new collection of solo piano music, his first album since 2022’s three-hour Music For Animals. Day will be released by LEITER on March 1st, 2024, and it will be available on limited edition vinyl as well as via all digital platforms. Recorded in the summer of 2022 in complete solitude and away from his studio at Berlin’s famed Funkhaus complex, it is preceded by a single, ‘Butter Notes’, out on January 19. Day may come as a surprise to those who, over the last decade, have watched Frahm shift slowly away from the piano compositions with which he first made his name in favour of a nonetheless still-distinctive approach that’s considerably more instrumentally complex and intricately arranged. In addition, in 2021, having spent the early part of the pandemic arranging his archives, he released the 80 minute, 23-track Old Friends New Friends, a compilation of previously unreleased piano music intended to enable him to ”start over” with a clean slate. Judging from the extended, ambient nature of Music For Animals, it proved a successful gambit, but Frahm has never been able to resist returning to his first love, and those who enjoyed earlier acclaimed albums like The Bells, Felt and Screws will once again revel in Day’s familiar, personal style. Day, which contains six tracks, three over the six-minute mark, is the first in a pair of albums Frahm has lined up for 2024. In keeping with their nature, however, he won’t be making a song and dance about the release. Instead, he’ll resume his ongoing world tour, which has already included fifteen sold-out dates at Berlin’s Funkhaus as well as a show at Athen’s Acropolis. It will continue with shows all over the world, among them several sold-out dates at London’s Barbican in July 2024, where he previously curated a weekend of music, film and art, Possibly Colliding, in 2016. The album is best enjoyed in the manner in which it was recorded, in the intimacy of a peaceful, cosy room. There are muffled pedal creaks on the cyclical, quietly jazzy ‘You Name It’ and, during the palliative ripples of ‘Butter Notes’’ arpeggios, the sound of dogs barking in the streets outside. The compassionate, hesitant ‘Tuesdays’ and emotionally ambiguous ‘Towards Zero’ linger with the poignant persistence of Harold Budd’s earliest work, while ‘Hands On’ is a sometimes brighter, airier tune that sets its own, deliberate pace, and, as he has on occasions before, ‘Changes’ sees Frahm employing elements of his instrument’s construction in a ‘prepared piano’ fashion. Characterised by its confidential mood, Day confirms that, while Frahm is arguably now best known for elaborate, celebratory concerts calling upon an arsenal of pianos, organs, keyboards, synths, even a glass harmonica, he’s still a prolific master of affecting simplicity, tenderness and romance.

‘Icon’ is an overused word when it comes to describing singers and musicians, but when it comes to Nina Simone there are few artists that the word describes more accurately. The ‘High Priestess Of Soul’ is surely one of the most iconic singers of the 20th century, and one whose fame and acclaim stretches far beyond conventional black American music circles. 

Nina Simone has featured on Ace and Kent CDs before but this is the first time she’s had one all to herself. “Let It All Out” is the first and only Nina Simone collection to draw repertoire from every label she recorded for between the late 1950s to the late 1970s. 

Not a traditional ‘Best Of’ or ‘Greatest Hits’ package (although the performances included here ARE among her very best, and do include most of her Greatest Hits!) it is a singles collection that presents Nina Simone’s soul and R&B-slanted 45s in chronological order. Invariably they are the definitive versions of the songs, whether she recorded the original versions or not. 

As well as almost all of her American pop and R&B chart hits from 1960 onwards, “Let It All Out” also contains all of Simone’s UK chart hits from the same period – several of which were more successful here than they were back home, including both versions of her biggest British hit ‘Ain’t Got No; I Got Life’, a UK #2 that did not chart at all in the US as was the case with the belated UK Top 5 hit ‘My Baby Just Cares For Me’ which also made no chart impression on its home turf…

Carefully curated and concisely annotated, “Let It All Out” lets the listener in to two dozen of Nina Simone’s most celebrated singles. There have been many compilations of her works since she passed away 20+ years ago, but none that gets to the heart – and soul – of her catalogue in quite so direct a manner as this one does. 

This is the story of an artist in search of sound and breath: an artist who dares to question the rhythm of silence—an invitation to rethink music, sound, and musical collaboration. This is the story of a journey that, after opening countless paths, has finally found its vessel—and its messengers. Three artists of profound musical truth and radical freedom, merging into an exceptional trio that crosses genres and transcends words in a journey toward pure emotion.

Le Rythme du Silence is the culmination of this long search. Yom delivers it here with violinist Théo Ceccaldi and cellist Valentin Ceccaldi—kindred spirits in sound. “I’ve been working on this idea of the ‘rhythm of silence’ for years,” Yom explains. “I first heard the phrase from a Sufi master, describing the foundation of meditation. It struck something deep in me. I’ve practiced meditation for a long time, and we often think of it as a kind of stillness—opposed to noise and life. But in truth, the rhythm of silence enables meditation. It means accepting that the world continues to move and live around you, even as you try to be still. I wanted to compose from that place. To imagine sound as vibratory matter—the primal substance of creation. That required letting go of fixed structures: forgetting melodies, abandoning the idea of a constructed solo. I needed to leave behind music as a system, and touch sound as a living, breathing entity. It took years. Many projects led me elsewhere. But with the Ceccaldi brothers, I finally found the right resonance. Working with them was simply obvious—it was indredibly powerful.”

Yom first rose to prominence reimagining Jewish traditional music with his 2008 debut New King of Klezmer Clarinet. Since then, his path has led through rock (With Love, 2011; You Will Never Die, 2018), electronic utopias (The Empire of Love, 2013), meditative and sacred soundscapes (Prière, 2018), and countless unclassifiable hybrids (Unue, 2009; Green Apocalypse, 2010). It was inevitable that he would eventually cross paths with the free-spirited Théo and Valentin Ceccaldi—two artists who also place collaboration and genre-blurring at the heart of their artistic development. Their projects are always bold, demanding, and full of life (Kutu, Tricollectif, ONJ, Velvet Revolution, Grand Orchestre du Tricot, Lagon Noir, Constantine, etc.). And so, when the three met within the iXi string quartet, something clicked.
“I was seated between the two of them in the quartet,” Yom recalls, “and I could feel their energy flowing from both sides—it was wild! They’re so tuned into each other, they don’t need words. It’s like they’re connected by musical Wi-Fi. The groove happens instantly. They’re precise when they want to be—thanks to their experience in pop-influenced projects —but they can also let go completely, diving into pure sound. That’s exactly what this project needed.”

Without a single rehearsal, the trio formed instinctively. They began performing Yom’s compositions live, unfolding them into a single continuous piece, where clarinet and strings stretch the limits of sound and breath.
Bowed, plucked, or prepared with clothespins, the Ceccaldi strings engage in a playful and intense dialogue with Yom’s custom B-flat clarinet. Through their imaginative listening and fearless invention, air and space open into a vast new soundscape—one that lies somewhere between meditation and healing music.

“When Yom shared the concept of the rhythm of silence, we were immediately drawn in,” says cellist Valentin Ceccaldi. “There’s a deep intensity and spiritual commitment in his music that really spoke to me. With this trio, we’re trying to dive into the core of sound—but also to create a kind of communion with the audience. It’s like gradually turning up the volume on silence, and realizing it’s made of countless tiny sounds—the music of particles in motion" This stripped-down intensity demands full presence—body and mind—of these three musicians, vibrationally connected in a state close to trance. With them, we enter a journey - not religious, but sacred nonetheless.
The Rhythm of Silence becomes an echo of our most intimate, most distant inner landscapes.
An album—and a trio—to return to without end.

2025 Repress

FINALLY! The very first commercial release of two legendary remixes of Arthur Russell's "In The Light Of The Miracle". Both are widely regarded as transcendent masterpieces and very much befitting of the title “holy grails”.

These long-beloved mixes are the types you'd wish would last for eternity. With almost 30 minutes of music here, we very nearly get our desires granted. At last, these jaw-dropping mixes are widely available to every Arthur fan in the world. This is musical perfection.

The deep Loft classic "In The Light Of The Miracle" remained unreleased during Arthur's lifetime, finally discovered when Phillip Glass included the original version on Another Thought on Point Music in 1993. As Steve Knutson told us, when Another Thought was being put together, the plan was to release a companion album of remixes that was overseen by Steve D'Aquisto but the project only got as far as these two remixes of "In The Light Of The Miracle".

Some dodgy scans of some centre label designs suggest that Point Music might’ve been planning to release these on a 12" but it didn’t happen. The story goes that Gilles Peterson heard the remixes on a visit to the Point Music offices and wanted to release them on Talkin’ Loud. We’re not sure how many white label copies made it out into the wild, but again, these remixes didn’t make it to a proper release.

These remixes both extend and undeniably enhance the original, elevating it to new heights. The 13 minute remix on the A-side is by Danny Krivit & Tony Smith with editing duties performed by Tony Morgan. As ever with Arthur, the music is almost impossible to describe: is it Disco? Garage House? Avant Garde? None of these tags do full justice to its sheer majesty. You best just listen. Stretching out the original with some unbelievably great percussive elements, until we're in a deeply spiritual, otherworldly realm, it's just too beautiful for words. As many have claimed, it's the prototype for EVERYTHING.

The "Ponytail Club Mix (Part 1 & 2)", produced by Tony Morgan in the mid-90s, is in a more up-tempo style, with vocals higher in the mix, the BPM upped to 120 and the addition of a housey 4/4 kick drum. A 14 minute epic, you could say this is a more straight ahead "club-friendly" mix (but can things ever be that straightforward with Arthur?!) It also has some really interesting vocal parts not used in the other versions, including some vocals from guest poet Allen Ginsberg.

These remixes are part of the same original project that also produced the Another Thought album so it seems only right that they have a sleeve that matches. Thanks again to Janette Beckman for letting us use another of her photos of Arthur and the rest of the design follows what Margery Greenspan, Tina Lauffer and Michael Klotz did for Another Thought back in 1994.

Simon Francis remastered the original audio for both tracks and Cicely Balston's precise cut for Alchemy at AIR Studios ensures this 12" well and truly slaps. The immaculate Record Industry pressing will ensure this incredibly sought-after treasure finds a home in many more collections, this and every year.

'Oh Snap' features twelve very personal songs by Salvant (plus a cover of a verse from the Commodores’ 1977 hit “Brick House), mostly recorded outside of a traditional studio environment, and which showcase her genre-spanning tastes and influences. The MacArthur Fellow and three-time Grammy-winning singer and composer wrote these short, intimate songs as part of a creative quest: to place spontaneity and joy at the centre of her writing process, and originally recorded them alone, at home, never intending for them to be released, using digital tools and effects that she had never played with before, like GarageBand, Logic, AutoTune, Midi plugins, drum loops, vocal effects, reverb, and filters. The songs reflect Salvant’s wide-ranging musical influences from her 1990s childhood in Miami—from boy bands to grunge to classical to folk—and include party tracks with beats, samba grooves, and quiet folk songs. The album features longtime collaborators Sullivan Fortner, Yasushi Nakamura, and Kyle Poole, as well as cameos from singers June McDoom and Kate Davis.

Limited Edition of 200 copies incl. Dolphins Remix (DALO, Benedikt Frey and Menqui).

Hot seducers. Two of them. On one 7inch. A/B Side business, hard to choose a fav, as both so fab. The A-Side is called "Happen". It comes from prolific Tokyo based DJ and producer Hoshina Anniversary. A simple drum machine groove, a manic melody, witching siren sounds, psychedelic voices, some soft chords, and soulful high-pitched singing, somewhere between Dam-Funk coolness and Ian Svenonius-The-Make-Up sixties pop longing. One for warm sexy nights under neon lights. Out there in psychic realms. The flip brings a Dolphins interpretation. Yes, that feverish trio behind R.i.O., consisting of Nadia D'Alò, Benedikt Frey and Menqui. Their freshly recorded version comes with haunting nonchalant singing, displaying the tunes core melody as a more prominent actor of the play. Michael-Mann-Pop-Nostalgia with a baroque touch, that waves dark-ish. Even some Jon Hassle feeling is in there. Hoshina Anniversary disclosed, that the original song is inspired by jazz musicians like Chet Baker, Miles Davis, Sonny Rollins, Chick Corea, Herbie Hancock, Jaco Pastorius and Keith Jarrett. None of them is directly stylistically audible. But their kind of blue is all over. On the A as well as on the B. Twice soul music for the free.

"Oh Snap features twelve very personal songs by Cécile McLorin Salvant - plus a cover of a verse from the Commodores’ 1977 hit “Brick House” - mostly recorded outside of a traditional studio environment and showcasing her genre-spanning tastes and influences. The album features longtime collaborators Sullivan Fortner, Yasushi Nakamura, and Kyle Poole, as well as cameos from singers June McDoom and Kate Davis. Salvant has US and international tour dates throughout the summer and autumn; find more details at nonesuch

The MacArthur Fellow and three-time Grammy-winning singer and composer wrote these short, intimate songs as part of a creative quest: to place spontaneity and joy at the center of her writing process. She originally recorded them alone, at home, never intending for them to be released, using digital tools and effects that she had never played with before, like GarageBand, Logic, AutoTune, Midi plugins, drum loops, vocal effects, reverb, and filters. The songs reflect Salvant’s wide-ranging musical influences from her 1990s childhood in Miami - from boy bands to grunge to classical to folk - and include party tracks with beats, samba grooves, and quiet folk songs.
"

In Guadeloupe, many people think that jazz and ka music are like a ring and a finger. To some extent, the same could be said about so called Latin music and the music played in the French West Indies.

Both aesthetics were born in the Caribbean and bear so many connections that they can easily be considered cousins. In constant dialogue, there are lots of examples of their fruitful alliance and have been for a while. The English country dance that used to be practiced in European lounges came to be called kadrille in Martinique and contradanza in Cuba. They both featured additional percussion instruments inherited from the transatlantic deportation. Drawing from shared feelings about the same traumatized identity – later to be creolized – it would be hard not to assume that they were meant to inspire each other. The golden age of the orchestras that graced the Pigalle nights during the interwar period further proves the point. As soon as the 1930s, Havana-born Don Barreto naturally mixed danzón and biguine music in a combo based at Melody's Bar. In the following decade, Félix Valvert, a conductor who was born and raised in Basse-Terre in Guadelupe, also worked wonders in Montparnasse with La Coupole, which was an orchestra made up of eclectic musicians. Afro- Caribbean performers of various origins were often hired on rhythm and brass sections in jazz bands, which used to enliven the typical French balls of the capital. In the 1930s and onwards, Rico’s Creole Band was one of them.



Martinican violinist-clarinettist Ernest Léardée, who would become the king of biguine music as well as the main figure of French Uncle Ben's TV commercials (a dark stigma of post-colonial stereotypes), had musicians from the whole Caribbean sphere play at his Bal Blomet – and they all enchanted "ces Zazous-là" (according the words of Léardée's biguine-calypso piece). In les Antilles (French for French West Indies), music history started to speed up in the 1950s, when trade expanded and radio stations grew bigger. The Guadelupean and Martiniquais youth tuned in their old galena radio sets to South American and Caribbean music. As for the women traders, les pacotilleuses, they bought and sold goods across different islands (the "passing of items through various hands" was thought to be most pleasurable) and brought back countless sounds in their luggage. Such was the case of Madame Balthazar, who once returned from Puerto Rico with the first 45rpm and 33rpm to ever enter Martinique.

Out of this adventure was created the famous Martinican label La Maison des Merengues, a music business she opened and undertook with her husband and which proved to be a major landmark. At the end of the 1950s, in Puerto Rico, Marius Cultier competed in the Piano International Contest playing a version of Monk's Round 'Midnight. He won the first prize and this distinction foreshadowed everything that was to come. Cultier, the heretic Monk of jazz, was quickly praised for writing superb melodies, always tinged with a twist that conferred a unique sound to his music. It didn't take long for the gifted self-taught musician to get to play with Los Cubanos, making a name for himself thanks to his impressive maestria on merengues.

The rest is history. Besides, in the late 1950s, Frantz Charles-Denis, born into the upper middle class in Saint-Pierre and better known by his first name Francisco, went back home after working at La Cabane Cubaine – a club located rue Fontaine where he had caught the Latin fever. Francisco's music was therefore heavily marked by his Cuban cousins' influence, which gave the combos he led a specific style and also led to renewal. Things were swinging hard in La Savane, located in the main square in Fort-de-France. He set up the Shango club close by and tested out the biguine lélé there, a new music formula spiced up with Latin rhythms. Soon afterwards, fate had him fly to Puerto Rico and Venezuela.

As for percussionist Henri Guédon (percussions were only a part of his many talents), he was born in Fort-de-France in May 22nd 1944, the day marking the celebration of the abolition of slavery. As an old man, he could remember that in " his father's Teppaz, a lot of hectic 6/8 music was constantly playing...". In the opening lines of his Lettre à Dizzy, a small illustrated collection of writings published by Del Arco, he highlighted the huge impact that cubop had on him as a teenage boy, around 1960. He eventually turned out to be the lider maximo in La Contesta, a big band steeped in Latin jazz. He was also the one who originated the word zouk to describe music which brought the sound of the New York barrio to Paris. It was the culmination of a journey that started in Sainte-Marie: "a mythical place for bélé, the equivalent of Cuban guaguancó". In the early 1960s, the tertiary economy developed to the detriment of agriculture. Yet rural life was where roots music emerged in Martinique and in Guadeloupe.

Record companies played a major part in the process of Latin versions sweeping across the islands – before reaching everywhere else. Producer Célini, boss of the great Aux Ondes label, and Marcel Mavounzy, both the head of Émeraude records - a firm which was founded in 1953 - as well as the brother of famous saxophonist Robert Mavounzy, were big names to bear in mind. Although there were many of them - all of whom are featured on this record - Henri Debs was definitely the major figure in the recording adventure. He proved to be so influential that he even got compared to Berry Gordy. In the mid 1950s, when he acquired his first Teppaz, he worked on his first compositions: a bolero and a chachacha. Then, he became the one man who made people discover Caribbean music, from calypso to merengue. He was among the first ones to rush out to San Juan, Puerto Rico, to buy records and distribute them through a store run by one of his brothers in Fort-de-France. He had members of the Fania All Star come and perform there, which he was madly proud about. He was also the first one to pay attention to Haitian music, such as compas direct and various other rhythms which would soon flood the market. As a result, many of the combos hitting his legendary studio would end up boosted by widespread "Afro-Latin" rhythms. However, he never denied his identity: gwo ka drums were given a major role, although they were instruments which had long been banned from the "official" music spheres. The present selection bears witness to such a creative swarming. Here are fourteen tracks of untimely yet unprecedented cross-fertilization: all types of music rooted in the Creole archipelago have found their way, whatsoever, to the tracklisting. Whether originating from the city or being more rural, they all go back to what Edouard Glissant, in an interview about the place of West Indian music in the Afro-American scope, called "the trace of singing, the one which got erased by slavery." "It is so in jazz, but also in reggae, calypso, biguine, salsa... This trace also manifests through the drums, whether Guadelupean, Dominican, Jamaican or Cuban... None of them being quite the same. They all point to the idea of a trace, seeking it out and connecting to each other through it. This is the hallmark of the African diaspora: its ability to create something new, in relation to itself, out of a trace. It may be the memory of a rhythm, the crafting of a drum, a means of expression which doesn't resort to an old language but to the modalities of it." The opening track features one of the emblematic orchestras of this aesthetic identity, criscrossing many music types from the archipelago. The 1974 Ray Barretto guajira – Ray Barretto was a major New York drummer influenced by Charlie Parker and Chano Pozzo – is magnificently performed by Malavoi, a legendary Fayolais group (i.e from Fort-de-France). Additionally, the compilation ends on a piece by Los Martiniqueños de Francisco. It symbolically closes the circle as it is a genuine potomitan of Martinique culture which also functions as a tireless campaigner for Afro-Caribbean music. Practicing the danmyé rounds (a kind of capoeiria) to the rhythm of the bèlè drum, it delivers a terrific Caterete, a kind of champeta of Afro- Colombian obedience which was originally composed by Colombian Fabián Ramón Veloz Fernández for the group Wgenda Kenya. The icing on the cake is Brazilian Marku Ribas, who found refuge in Martinique in the early 1970s, bringing his singing to the last trance-inducing track. These two "versions" convey the whole tone of a selection composed of rarities and classics of the tropicalized genre, swarming with tonic accents and convoluted rhythms. It is the sort of cocktail that the West Indians never failed to spice up with their own ingredients. For instance, the Los Caraïbes cover of Dónde, a famous Cuban theme composed by producer Ernesto Duarte Brito, has a typical violin and features renowned Martinique singer Joby Valente and his piquant voice.



The track used to be – or so we think – their only existing 45rpm. The meaningful Amor en chachachá by L'Ensemble Tropicana, a band which included Haitian musicians among whom was composer and leader Michel Desgrotte, also recalls how Latin music was pervasive in the tropics in the mid-1960s. They were the ones keeping people dancing at Le Cocoteraie in Guadelupe and La Bananeraie in Martinique. Around the same time, another "foreign" band, Congolese Freddy Mars N'Kounkou's Ryco Jazz, achieved some success on both islands by covering Latin jazz classics – such as their adaptation of Wachi Wara, a "soul sauce" by Dizzy Gillespie and Chano Pozo whose interweaving of strings and percussions can have anyone hit the dancefloor. How can you resist Dap Pinian indeed, a powerful guaguancó by Eugene Balthazar, performed by the Tropicana Orchestra and published by the Martinique-founded La Maison des Merengues? It also acts as a symbol of the maelstrom at work. Going by the name Paco et L'orchestre Cachunga, Roger Jaffory used to play guaguancó too: his Fania-inspired Oye mi consejo is one example of his style. Baila!!!!! Dancing was also one of the Kings' focus points. Oriza is a Puerto Rican bomba and a "classic" originally composed by Nuevayorquino trumpeter Ernie Agosto, which reserves major space for brasses, giving it a special sheen.

Emerging from the New York barrios crucible was also La Perfecta, a Martinique group originating from Trinidad, whose name directly references the totemic Eddie Palmieri figure as well as his own band, also called La Perfecta. Here they borrow Toumbadora from Colombian producer and composer Efraín Lancheros and interpret it by emphasizing percussions, which set fire to the track even more than the wind instruments. The same goes for Martinique's Super Jaguars, who use Tatalibaba – a composition by Cuban guitarist Florencio "Picolo" Santana which was made famous by Celia Cruz & La Sonora Matencera – as a pretext for sending their cadences into a frenzy. In a more typically salsa vein, the Super Combo, a famous Guadelupean orchestra from Pointe-Noire that was formed around the Desplan family and had Roger Plonquitte and Elie Bianay on board, adapt Serana, a theme by Roberto Angleró Pepín, a Puerto Rican composer, singer and musician also known for his song Soy Boricua. Here again, their vision comes close to surpassing the original. In the 1970s, L'Ensemble Abricot provided a handful of tracks of different syles, hence reaching the pinnacle of the art of achieving variety and giving pleasure. They played boleros, biguines, compas direct, guaguancó and even a good old boogaloo - the type they wanted to keep close to their hearts for ever, "pour toujours", as they sang along together in one of their songs. Léon Bertide's Martinican ensemble excelled at the boogaloo which had been composed by Puerto Rican saxophonist Hector Santos for the legendary El Gran Combo.



Three years later, in 1972, Henri Guédon, with the help of Paul Rosine on the vibraphone, tackled the Bilongo made famous by Eddie Palmieri. Such a classic!!!!! And so were the Aiglons, the band from Guadelupe: choosing to execute Pensando en tí, a composition by Dominican Aniceto Batista, on a cooler tempo than the original, they noticeably used a wonderfully (un)tuned keyboard in place of the accordion. On the high-value collectible single – the first one released by Les Aiglons under the Duli Disc label – there is a sticker classifying the track under the generic name "Afro". Now that is what we call a symbol. Jacques Denis

Hailing from the depths of Istanbul's ancient shadows, ASH MAGICK is a raw and unfiltered black metal project founded in 2022 by Necrosanctus and Graveyard Slut. Born from firsthand occult experience, the band channels themes of spiritual decay, cursed devotion, and forbidden knowledge into ritualistic sonic expressions. Drawing on Eastern mysticism, ancestral lore, and demonic narratives, Ash Magick conjures haunting atmospheres steeped in esotericism and ancient rites. Black metal in its most feral, feminine, and arcane form. Ash Magick are returning with their most spiritually charged and meticulously crafted work to date.

Since our first contact with NYC based producer Thavius Beck in 2018, he sent us over 100 unreleased tracks, or beats, as he calls them. 25 of them have been selected for releases on U-TRAX, good for over 2 hours of music, across this album and the Lovesick EP.

Growing up in LA, Thavius Beck entered the hip-hop scene as member of Global Phlowtations, and released several solo albums under the Adlib moniker. In later years, he released five albums under his own name on labels like Mush, Big Dada and Plug Research, and also produced albums for artists like Saul Williams and K‑the‑I???, and did some remixing for amongst others Nine Inch Nails.
Nowadays he combines making music with a career as a succesful certified Ableton and Bitwig trainer and as a music teacher at Berklee NYC.

The tracks vary in style a lot, but what they have in common is that they either are moody – in U-TRAX lingo: deep - or they are drum heavy. The common denominator would probably be 'experimental/instrumental hip-hop', reminiscent of producers like Flying Lotus. People have tried all sorts of comparisons to pinpoint Thavius' sound, ranging from 'between DJ Shadow and Orbital' and 'a mix of Massive Attack and The Orb'. None of these are spot on, yet quite a few of these tracks feel like a happy marriage between hip-hop beats and techno sounds.

Despite the fact that some tracks are 20 years old and have been made with widely different gear (one track was even made on a PlayStation 2), this selection sounds remarkably balanced, yet diverse.

From the irresistible single 'Lovesick/Still Sick' to the dark and massive 'Birdsong' (that echoes the sound of his popular song 'Atmos'), and from the head-nodding 'Work!' to the soothing 'Reunited With The All' - if this collection showcases anything, it's Thavius' brilliant production and composing skills, as well as his wizard-level sampling techniques. The result is a luscious electronic music album with a broad appeal.

Available on double 180 grams colored vinyl vinyl, comes in gatefold picture sleeve.

Flamenco is a Spanish art, which has always been prone to hybridization with a multitude of musical languages. Therefore, the universe of "flamenco fusion" could well reflect the way in which Spaniards have related throughout history with other cultures. And that relationship may have often been one of dialogue, exchange, respect and crossbreeding. Among the circumstances that could have favored the traditional mestizaje of flamenco art is the open character of the south of the Iberian Peninsula, to all the civilizations that have settled in its territories; the encounter with America in 1492, and the brotherhood with the Spanish-speaking countries; that the Casa de contratación de Indias, the entity that regulated the transit between Spain and America for centuries, was founded in none other than... Seville! (and olé); without forgetting the FUNDAMENTAL African contribution, brought to America by millions of black slaves throughout the 400 years of the slave trade. Pícaro vol. 4 is an excellent example of how some Spanish flamenco musicians knew how to take advantage of the fashion of other styles and rhythms coming from outside Spain, creating a new sound universe and incorporating them into their repertoire. Undoubtedly, there is a generational replacement of "flamenco Ye-Ye" in Spain with artists like Rosalía or C. Tangana, although now it will be necessary to modernize "the label". This compilation offers us a snapshot of the multiple styles of flamenco hybridization that triumphed in the world during the decades of the 50's and 60's of the 20th century. Through its microsurcos we will discover immeasurable flamenco ye yé (track 1), flamenco rock & roll (tracks 3 and 4), flamenco cha cha chá (tracks 6, 7 and 15) or flamenco mambo (track 12), together with other unusual, exotic and impossible mixes of Spanish song with tango arrabalero, bluegrass, easy listening, swing, groove or soul. Always a happy mix, which are brought together with exquisite taste in this vinyl for your enjoyment.

Monzanto Sound are a rising South East London-based music collective fusing together different styles from the African Diaspora with a hypnotic, psychedelic edge and a passion for the alchemical practice of sonic storytelling. Traversing through jazz-inflected funk, psychedelic trip-hop and cosmic neo-soul; they connect the dots using pulsating grooves, hypnotic polyrhythms and soaring vocals. The band consists of Mimi Koku on vocals, Mali Baden-Powell on keys, Wazoo Baden Powell on drums, Anthony Boatright on bass and Rachel Asafo-Agyei on guitar and supporting vocals.

Set for release in August, debut album 'The Channel' explores themes of love and conflict, justice and injustice, fantasy and mythology. Its title is a reference to many things: a journey, a portal or window to another place, a connection, a transformation. It also makes links, conceptually and sonically, between the organic and the technological, the material and immaterial.

Scowl is a band that sounds exactly like their name implies. Venomous, fierce, antagonistic. A sneer not to be crossed. Over the last five years, the Santa Cruz, California, band has firmly planted their flag in the hardcore scene with their vicious sound and ripping live show, sharing stages around the world with Circle Jerks, Touché Amoré, and Limp Bizkit, and filling slots at prominent festivals like Coachella, Sick New World, and Reading and Leeds. But with their new album, Are We All Angels (Dead Oceans), Scowl is aiming to funnel all that aggression through a more expansive version of themselves.Much of Are We All Angels grapples with Scowl's newfound place in the hardcore scene, a community which has both embraced the band and made them something of a lightning rod over the past few years. Standout single "Not Hell, Not Heaven" outright rejects the narratives cast onto them by outsiders. "It's about feeling victimized and being a victim, but not wanting to identify with being a victim," explains vocalist Kat Moss. "It's trying to find grace in the fact that I have my power. I live in my reality. You have to deal with whatever you're dealing with, and it ain't working for me." The band breaks from a sense of disassociation to seek deeper connections on "Fantasy." "It's incredibly challenging to try to balance my love for the scene while also feeling, in some spaces, extremely alienated and hated," Moss says. "`Fantasy' is about feeling like I don't know how to connect with these people anymore, because I have shelled myself away so hard." The album ends in a philosophical place on the closing, titular track, "Are We All Angels," asking questions like, "Is this all there is?" and ultimately putting it on the listener to decide. "It's about the personal struggle between good and evil. It doesn't matter how `good' or `bad' you are, there are systems that will try to rewrite your narrative no matter what you actually do," explains Moss, noting that punctuation on "Are We All Angels" has been deliberately omitted in an attempt to leave the statement open-ended. Are We All Angels is the highly anticipated follow-up to Scowl's debut, 2021's How Flowers Grow, a 16-minute primal scream over punishing riffs. But amidst the pounding chaos, it was the record's sonic outlier, a cleaner interlude called "Seeds to Sow," that, true to its name, planted the seed for what was to come for the band. "It kind of laid out this destiny for us, and I feel like now we're fulfilling that," says drummer Cole Gilbert. The band continued to expand their sound on 2023's widely acclaimed Psychic Dance Routine EP, incorporating more pop hooks and favoring gentler singing over heavy screaming, paving the way for what would come next.Scowl's growth got a huge boost from producer Will Yip (Turnstile, Title Fight, Code Orange, Balance and Composure), who broadened the band's scope. "Will would say, `Everything you have here is correct, but it's in the wrong place,'" says Gilbert. Moss adds: "Will really helped restructure a lot of the material. Some songs he tore apart to make more space for the really good hooks and choruses." But even through this more eclectic approach, Scowl loses none of their edge, and still manages to convey the anger and frustration that lies underneath. They are deeply committed to carrying the ethos of punk and its sense of community. "Hardcore and punk have sculpted how we operate, what we want to do as a band, and how we participate," says guitarist Malachi Greene. "At our core, we are a punk and a hardcore band, regardless of how the song shifts and changes."

Mobile Fidelity's UltraDisc One-Step 180g 45RPM 2LP Set Plays with Authoritative Tonality, Airiness, and Clarity:
Pressed on MoFi SuperVinyl and Strictly Limited to
3,000 Numbered Copies
1/4” / 15 IPS Dolby A analogue master to DSD 256 to analogue console to lathe

Joni Mitchell is the only artist who could’ve made Hejira. The legendary singer-songwriter said as much when discussing the album decades after its release. Yet that fact seemed obvious from the moment the gold-certified effort streeted in fall 1976. An adventurous travelogue, probing narrative, and offbeat homage to freedom, Hejira remains an inimitable entry in the catalog of recorded music — a spare, gorgeous, meditative series of sonic vignettes comprised of floating harmonic pop, cool jazz, soft rock, and sensitive vocal elements that beckon feelings of motion, discovery, and self-examination.

Sourced from the original analog master tapes, pressed at Fidelity Record Pressing on MoFi SuperVinyl, and strictly limited to 3,000 numbered copies, Mobile Fidelity's UltraDisc One-Step 180g 45RPM 2LP set presents the record ranked the 133rd Greatest of All Time by Rolling Stone with definitive detail, richness, accuracy, and directness. Marking the first time the revered LP has received audiophile treatment, it's one of six iconic 1970s Mitchell records Mobile Fidelity is reissuing on vinyl and SACD.

Playing with a virtually nonexistent noise floor, dead-quiet surfaces, and superior groove definition, this collectible reissue reproduces in enveloping fashion the tones, textures, and craftsmanship that help Hejira function as the equivalent of a liberating trip down an open road with nothing but blue sky, natural landscape, and fresh air in the immediate vicinity. Passages bloom, carry, decay as they do amid an acoustically optimized environment. Soundstages extend far, wide, and deep, with black backgrounds and pinpoint images adding to the realism.

The reference-grade immediacy, airiness, and presence put in transparent perspective Mitchell’s dense strings of words, stream-of-conscious-like phrasing, and unhurried albeit forward momentum. Likewise, the instrumental contributions of her A-list support musicians — a cast that includes L.A. Express members John Guerin, Max Bennett and Tom Scott, plus Neil Young, Victor Feldman, and Abe Most — emerges with breathtaking clarity and dimensionality.

While Mitchell, whose intimate vocals and abstract guitar parts center everything, Mobile Fidelity's restoration of Hejira further reveals the visionary breadth of guitarist Larry Carlton and bassist Jaco Pastorius. Though heard on only four tracks, Pastorius' fretless bass epitomizes the fluid, subtle, flexible, roomy, and shape-shifting characteristics of songs that often appear to transpire out of nowhere akin to the formation of a puffy cumulus cloud overhead. In sync with Mitchell’s voice, Pastorius’ fusion hovers and floats, suspended in a fog you want to deeply inhale. The "grace notes" Mitchell desired on Hejira can now be heard in full. Ditto the luxurious tapestries of alinear lines, fills, and supplements unreeled on Carlton’s six-string.

Visually, the packaging of this UD1S set complements its identity as the copy to own. Housed in a deluxe slipcase, the LPs come in foil-stamped jackets with faithful-to-the-original graphics. This version is for listeners who desire to become immersed in everything about Hejira, including the unforgettable album cover — a pastiche of 14 different photos Mitchell used a Camera Lucida to assemble into one image that’s anchored by a portrait of her in a stoic pose — and the interior shots of Mitchell skating on a frozen Wisconsin lake wearing a pair of black skates, black shirt, and fur cape.

The notion of skating, feeling an awakening wind whipping against your face, and losing yourself to the surroundings are extremely apt for Hejira, which Mitchell wrote after a sequence of trips and relationships prompted her to reflect on the complicated conflicts between independence and marriage, success and satisfaction, duty and desire — and, more specifically, “the cost of being a woman.” The Canadian native delved into such themes before. But never as she does on Hejira, whose liberating, running-away aura doubles as another of Mitchell’s rejections of tradition as well as a suggestion of a better alternative.

At once observational and personal, expansive and insular, cheerful and poignant, Hejira spans a sea of human conditions, emotions, and circumstances. It addresses drifting, isolation, pleasure, place, time, and surroundings with strikingly poetic discourse matched with music that, save for the crooned ballad “Blue Motel Room,” forgoes conventional structures and choruses.

The jazz-based arrangements, marked by scaled-down percussion and all manner of bent, rounded, and unsettled notes, hint that Mitchell has no exact destination in mind. Excursions such as the moody “Furry Sings the Blues,” funky “Coyote” and edgy “Black Crow” throw open previously locked doors to possibility and journey. They signal it’s time for a welcome departure from norms and the past, one that leads to a heightened sense of clarity and perspective. Or, as Mitchell said upon choosing the album title, it’s time for “leaving the dream, no blame.”

Thanks to acclaimed live shows and radio appearances in both Norway and Germany, Heigh Chief has been steadily winning over a growing fan base with their high energy performances of songs from their first two albums. One Night Live solidifies their reputation as a formidable live band with incredible chops and songwriting skills. Their talent has earned them notable achievements, including winning the Notodden Blues Cup in 2013 and placing second in the Norwegian finals of the "Battle of the Bands." These successes helped them secure spots at the International Blues Challenge (IBC) in Memphis for two consecutive years, 2015 and 2016. The four-piece band brings serious talent to the stage - featuring none other than Norway"s top Hammond organ virtuoso, Lars Christian Narum. One Night Live is the band"s first live recording, and it doesn"t disappoint. Recorded in Norderstedt, Germany while the band was on tour in 2019, it"s an impressive testament to the band"s talents.

How would you like to hear it? This project is the brainchild of Andy Baxter, a multi-talented musician and multi-instrumentalist from London. His recording career began in 2018 when he released his first album, Green, on Village Live.

Buoyed by this initial recognition by his peers, he quickly released a second self-produced opus the following year, entitled Dusk. But it was his third LP, Shapes, released by KingUnderground, that took him to the next level.

Conceived during the first period of confinement, Andy played almost every instrument on the album (a few musicians joined in here and there): drums first and foremost, his instrument of choice, but also bass, guitar, keyboards and even the flute, which he had just learnt at the time of the album's creation. Largely inspired by the library music of the 70s, including some of his mentors such as Piero Umilani, David Axelrod and Brian Bennett, the album is nonetheless resolutely modern. But there's no denying the cinematic atmosphere that emanates from his compositions.

From the opening track "We're From Nowhere", with its heavy, funky bass, you get the impression of being plunged into the Harlem blaxploitation of the heyday, and you can't help but see a musical nod to Roy Ayers' "We live in Brooklyn, baby". But you soon realise that far from being a nostalgic musician, Baxter also listens to his contemporaries like Khruangbin and BadBadNotGood, as can be heard on tracks like 'Leaves', 'Odysea' and 'Ikigai', with their atmospheric guitars and Fransesca Uberti's haunting backing vocals, which instantly invite you to travel and escape! But there are times when the mood gets a little tense, like on the more angst-ridden 'Villains', with its almost free jazz flights of fancy. Finally, his drumming also comes to the fore on the last track, 'Stay Free', with its Afrobeat rhythm reminiscent of a certain Tony Allen and evoking creative freedom as a common thread running through his values.

In nine tracks, Shapes takes us on a neo jazz journey that once again demonstrates the vitality of the English scene in this field for several years now! At the start of 2022, Robohands released their latest album, Violet, on the same label, confirming all the good things we thought about them! By allowing a number of musicians to join him on this new opus, Andy Baxter has shown a willingness to work with more accomplished collaborators.

In 1966, Oscar Agudelo recorded this elusive and lesser-known collector's gem called "Pa' mi muñeca" for Discos Fuentes. It is a rarity where the artist took an unexpected musical turn and performed several porros, paseaitos, gaitas, and cumbias, evoking the swaying motion and rolling waves of Colombia's Caribbean sound. It resonates with the echoes of a romantic minstrel laced with an unexpected richness of nuance, a hallmark of the cumbia sound. It's exactly the kind of music that lights up a tambó or a fandango circle on carnival night. A dozen tracks, none of them new, but suffused with a consciousness that can be understood within the context of their time and with the personality of the artist bold enough to bring them to life. 'Madre cumbia' opens the album with a festive, nostalgic mood, infused with the simple beauty and the electrifying beat of the tropics that immediately makes you want to get up and dance. It's a fantastic example of how to perform a song with passion and make the listener fall instantly in love with an album. 'Pa' mi muñeca', the title track, is a fast-paced paseaito that explores new paths that took a shortcut to the dance halls. A showstopper on the dance floor. 'Está como mango' is a porro-cumbia that charms with a rich tapestry of compliments, the calling card of many old-school tropical songs. 'Cumbia de recuerdo', 'Cumbia suave', 'Cumbia de Santa Marta', are back-to-back cumbias. This is an album devoted to recreating the strength of a musical genre that's been the soundtrack of Colombian life for decades. It's a record dedicated to capturing good times, filled with simple dreams, steeped in joyful energy, and shining with the uninhibited flair, or better said, the quality of the sixties. This album represents a milestone on the route cumbia had taken, both for Discos Fuentes and maestro Agudelo. First time reissue. Includes liner notes by genre expert Don Alirio.

DESCRIPTION
Having endured no less than three long-players and a brace of singles featuring the caterwauling of Messrs Hampshire and Childish, the Milkshakes’ audience figured it might be time for an instrumental outing. In response the group gave them just that. But this was to be no run-of-the-mill effort – no Dick Dale-esque surf marathons or Shadowsy twangers are apparent here. These tunes are more ‘rhythm-and-mood’-based compositions; occasionally leaning more towards the Link Wray end of the spectrum – as you would probably expect. This IVth album (hence the name) was recorded in 1983 at Oakwood Studios – as were all previous releases – but this was the first in their new facilities in a converted church near Canterbury, which opened up a whole new golden vista of shimmering, silvery sounds in atmospheric conditions. Of course, the Milkshakes were having none of that. We suggest you plonk the wax on your gramophone and let whatever happens happens. Hasty bananas.

NOW Music is very proud to present the second of our ‘Now That’s What I Call An Era’ releases. ‘The Albums 1980 > 1984’ celebrates iconic albums that were released between 1980 and 1984, featuring a magnificent track from each - and none of them UK hit singles! The 4 CD sets have 72 fantastic tracks – A sampler of the iconic albums that represent an incredible period of creativity and originality: the 3LP set has 40 tracks from the era. Available as a stunning 3-LP vinyl collection, pressed in a different colour for each disc; blue, white and red, and housed in a tri-fold sleeve that features a track-by-track guide. A 72-track Limited edition 4-CD set that comes with a ‘hardback book’ that includes a 28-page booklet featuring a track-by-track guide, and a standard 4CD set

Back to the 80s: A Holy Grail of Italo Disco Returns on Vinyl

Oh, those magical 1980s… an era forever entwined with iconic music that still stirs the soul. For the young, it’s a source of fascination; for those who lived it, a flood of unforgettable memories. And when you combine that nostalgia with a collector’s thrill and the magic words “Italo Disco”, only a handful of legendary labels come to mind. One of them? Sensation Records: the experimental sub-label of the iconic Disco Magic, headquartered at Via Mecenate 78/A in Milan. Known for its distinctive blue label, Sensation was home to less commercial, often bold and boundary-pushing releases – tracks that dared to be different.

Today, Vintage Pleasure Boutique dives deep into the vaults of Sensation Records to revive one of the genre’s most coveted treasures: Marylinlove – “Another Love.”

Produced by none other than Bruno Mosti – a mastermind behind some of the most sought-after Italo tracks of the era. This is more than a reissue. It’s the return of a true cult classic, a holy grail for collectors and genre lovers alike.

If you know, you know. And if you don’t, this is your moment to own a piece of history. Don’t miss your chance to grab this stunning vinyl reissue, before it disappears again.

Full throttle from Vancouver, BC to wherever the open road takes them The Vicious Cycles are BACK with their new LP Get Wrecked on Pirates Press Records! Before you even get the shrink wrap off the gatefold jacket, you can guess what kind of party you're in for. "Our pal Shakey Deal is the cover model," says Cycles head honcho Billy Bones. "A tuff looking scrub on a minibike says a lot about who we are." And who is that exactly? "We play garage/punk rock and roll songs about motorcycles. We like to have a good time." The promise of debauchery carries over into song titles like "Naked On a Beach," and "On Fire in the Hot Tub." As rip-roaring, danceable party music goes, it's second to none, and rest assured there's plenty of bike enthusiast inside baseball, but the lyrics often go deeper than a superficial glance might indicate. For example, the lead single, "Hold On Tight," is about, as Billy puts it, "the physical feeling of riding with your favorite person on the back of your motorcycle - easily one of the best feelings a human can have." So, a classic biker anthem? "But also," he's quick to add, "a metaphor for life and relationships. We're gonna make it." Waxing philosophical with motorcycles as allegory over chrome-plated punk rock 'n roll? That's The Vicious Cycles' songwriting in a nutshell. Another album highlight, "Daddy Was a Gambler" references Billy's father - an ex-preacher who regularly hauled his kids to Circus Circus in his '57 Chevy - and his mother, a nurse and, as Billy puts it, "as close to an actual saint as anyone in the world. The song is an appreciation for the two of them, and how their differences made me who I am." "Naked On A Beach" sounds like a party, but Billy explains it's "a critique of capitalism and the tiny lives we're expected - and sometimes content - to live." Even the title track, "Get Wrecked," is more than just a statement of defiance; it's a message to Billy's son about dealing with the conformist naysayers of the world. Longtime fans & newcomers alike will be stoked for the straightaways, but stick around for the twists and turns, just like any good ride. The band brings in pals on strings & saxophone for a 60s Wall of Sound-inspired production on "Black Boots, Black Leather Jacket," and try their hands at their first murder ballad on "Pretty Hands." There's an instrumental tune ("Blowing Smoke") and hell, there's even a deep cut cover of "Trouble Again" - originally performed by Stewart Copeland of The Police - which only the biggest nerds of a certain age will recall as the theme song to the 80s Star Wars animated series Droids! In the end, no matter the detours, the band - along with Jesse Gander (Territories, Comeback Kid), & Mariessa McLeod at Rain City Recorders - kept their eyes on the prize: sing-along choruses, handclaps, and short songs that get the job done and don't overstay their welcome. "I didn't want us to write a record that you could dance to." quips Billy. "I wanted us to write a record that you couldn't not dance to."

Spincycle records presents the second imprint on their label – a two track split EP from Neil E & Big City Bill on 180g heavyweight vinyl.

Bill and Neil met deep in the mountains 20 years ago.
With work drying up in the mountains, they tobogganed into the city to find their calling.

For years in dim garages, they studied with diligence strange hieroglyphs projected on the wall by the reflection of fluorescent lamps through emptied vessels.
At first, none of it made sense. All they knew was that it was important.

They began posting their findings online, and after a time of thinking they may have gone crazy, they began to receive anonymous messages: “Click here to join a guild of amazing artists: link redacted.”; “Follow me, and I’ll follow you back. Let’s grow together!”; “Do you want 10k+ follows? We can help!”
This was the encouragement they had been waiting so eagerly for. And so on they went. They joined a few guilds and continued to hone their practice, mining their depths, searching for that ineffable thing, whatever it was, wherever it was locked away.
After years of deep contemplation, the breaking of sacred tools, fiddling around, and the collection of various bevelled talismans, a revelation struck.

Two fantastic thoughts struck them both simultaneously.
These are those thoughts.

How does one approach the morning after a party for the end of the world? This is a question which Mamuthones had to ask themselves, in the wake of their last album for Rocket, 2018's Fear On The Corner. Nonetheless, from the aftermath of this uncertain period has risen the still more flourishing realm of From Word To Flesh - a colourful and multi-faceted creation very much befitting the outsider spirit of Rocket's new Black Hole imprint. “I believe that with this album a circle has been closed” reflects Mamuthones mainman Alessio Gastaldello. “We returned to the atmosphere of the first Mamuthones albums with the skills acquired throughout the journey, with new sounds and with new creative processes. I would say that what remains constant – and at the core of our music – is the obsessive rhythms and the search for a sonic rituality: this is for certain our trademark”. This is clear right from the curtain raiser 'Burn From Inside', which beams the emotive approach of the band through the shamanic prism of Coil's Ape Of Naples. From there, hypnotic repetition marries to abstract abrasion and mournful laments with equal finesse, as redolent of the spiritual zest of Popol Vuh and Ash Ra Tempel as the gnostic folk of Six Organs Of Admittance. Elsewhere, 'A Symmetry Of Faith' summons a union of post-punk and psychically charged folk aligned with the recent work of Bristol's Beak. The Sardinian ritual of the Mamuthones – in which sinister masked figures weighed down with cattle bells conduct a ceremonial procession to ward off evil forces - has gone on for some two thousand years, and it may be that these ghoulish avatars are engaged in a celebration of the endless cycles of death and rebirth, fortifying spirits for a new epoch. Amidst the chaos and tumult of the 2020s, the band of this name has undergone just such a change themselves, and ‘From Word To Flesh’ is the fruit of their struggle. As Alessio says “With this album I think the Mamuthones have never been so unmediated, so naked: all masks gone”

“Egypt’s “official” popular music throughout much of the 20th Century was a complex form of art song steeped in tradition, well-loved by the middle and upper classes, and even accommodating to certain non-Arabic influences. It was highly structured by professional musicians working an established industry centered in the capitol, Cairo. However, far from the bustling cosmopolitan center of Cairo, north and northwest, in towns like Tanta and Alexandria and extending across the Saharan Desert to the Libyan border, dozens of fully marginalized artists were developing a raw, hybrid shaabi/al-musiqa al-shabiya style of music, supported by smaller upstart, independent labels, including the short-lived but deeply resonant Bourini Records. Launched in the late 1960s in Benghazi, Libya, Astuanat al-Bourini اسطوانات البوريني (Bourini Records) published some 40 to 50 titles from 1968 to 1975. Bourini released 7-inch 45 RPM singles by 15 artists, all but one of them Egyptian, igniting brief careers for Alexandrian singer Sheikh Amin Abdel Qader and the blind Bedouin legend Abu Bakr Abdel Aziz (aka Abu Abab). The tracks compiled here comprise a full range of styles covered by the label, while highlighting some of its most gobsmacking moments, from Basis Rahouma’s beastly transformation into a growling and barking man-lion by the end of “Yana Alla Nafsa Masouda,” to Reem Kamal’s hopeful-if-bitter handclapping party pivot “Baed Al Yas Yjini,” which descends into an almost Velvet Underground outro-groove of nihilistic dissonance. All the tracks on this compilation were laid down in stark divergence from the mainstream Egyptian popular music topography of heightened emotions buoyed by lush arrangements. The contrast is most evident in Mahmoud al-Sandidi’s “Ana Mish Hafwatak,” wherein his voice weaves heavily but deftly through a constant accordion drone, and Abu Abab’s “Al Bint al Libya,” a sparse, slow-burning lament with minimal percussion, violin, and Abab’s nephew Hamed Abdel Muna'im Mursi on lyre. Whereas the Egyptian mainstream was aspirational, attempting to reflect Egyptian culture at its most refined, the performances captured by Bourini were manifestations of everyday life lived by the mostly otherwise ignored masses. More than half century old, this music has lost none of its urgency, presence, or relevance. We hear these artists as if they’d just joined us in our living room, and not on a stage decades ago surrounded by tens of thousands of long-forgotten acolytes.

Welcome to our porch

Through our many years of playing together on many stages across the globe, we have been able to share our Carolina roots with lots of people. But our tradition really doesn’t live on the stage; it lives on a back porch of Mebane, in a living room in Morganton and in countless other places wherever a musician might find themselves. We wanted to revisit the sounds, places, and textures at the beginning of our musical journey together and to share that experience with y’all. The rain, the cicadas, and thunder become part of the band, grounding us and the music firmly in the long narrative of the place we call home

We shall never apologise for our love for the work of Steve O'Sullivan. His contributions to the world of dub techno are second to none. They are also mad consistent both in style and quality which means they never age. Here he steps up to Lempuyang with his Blue Channel alias alongside Jonas Schachner aka Another Channel for more silky smooth fusions of authentic dub culture and Maurizo-style techno deepness. Watery synths, hissing hi-hats with long trails and dub musings all colour these dynamic grooves. They're cavernous and immersive and frankly irresistible and the sort of tracks that need to be played loud in a dark space. In that context, you'll never want them to end.

Scowl is a band that sounds exactly like their name implies. Venomous, fierce, antagonistic. A sneer not to be crossed. Over the last five years, the Santa Cruz, California, band has firmly planted their flag in the hardcore scene with their vicious sound and ripping live show, sharing stages around the world with Circle Jerks, Touché Amoré, and Limp Bizkit, and filling slots at prominent festivals like Coachella, Sick New World, and Reading and Leeds. But with their new album, Are We All Angels (Dead Oceans), Scowl is aiming to funnel all that aggression through a more expansive version of themselves. Much of Are We All Angels grapples with Scowl’s newfound place in the hardcore scene, a community which has both embraced the band and made them something of a lightning rod over the past few years. Standout single “Not Hell, Not Heaven” outright rejects the narratives cast onto them by outsiders. “It’s about feeling victimized and being a victim, but not wanting to identify with being a victim,” explains vocalist Kat Moss. “It’s trying to find grace in the fact that I have my power. I live in my reality. You have to deal with whatever you're dealing with, and it ain’t working for me.” The band breaks from a sense of disassociation to seek deeper connections on “Fantasy.” “It’s incredibly challenging to try to balance my love for the scene while also feeling, in some spaces, extremely alienated and hated,” Moss says. “‘Fantasy’ is about feeling like I don't know how to connect with these people anymore, because I have shelled myself away so hard.” The album ends in a philosophical place on the closing, titular track, “Are We All Angels,” asking questions like, “Is this all there is?” and ultimately putting it on the listener to decide. “It’s about the personal struggle between good and evil. It doesn’t matter how ‘good’ or ‘bad’ you are, there are systems that will try to rewrite your narrative no matter what you actually do,” explains Moss, noting that punctuation on “Are We All Angels” has been deliberately omitted in an attempt to leave the statement open-ended. Are We All Angels is the highly anticipated follow-up to Scowl’s debut, 2021’s How Flowers Grow, a 16-minute primal scream over punishing riffs. But amidst the pounding chaos, it was the record’s sonic outlier, a cleaner interlude called “Seeds to Sow,” that, true to its name, planted the seed for what was to come for the band. “It kind of laid out this destiny for us, and I feel like now we’re fulfilling that,” says drummer Cole Gilbert. The band continued to expand their sound on 2023’s widely acclaimed Psychic Dance Routine EP, incorporating more pop hooks and favoring gentler singing over heavy screaming, paving the way for what would come next. Scowl’s growth got a huge boost from producer Will Yip (Turnstile, Title Fight, Code Orange, Balance and Composure), who broadened the band’s scope. “Will would say, ‘Everything you have here is correct, but it’s in the wrong place,’” says Gilbert. Moss adds: “Will really helped restructure a lot of the material. Some songs he tore apart to make more space for the really good hooks and choruses.” But even through this more eclectic approach, Scowl loses none of their edge, and still manages to convey the anger and frustration that lies underneath. They are deeply committed to carrying the ethos of punk and its sense of community. “Hardcore and punk have sculpted how we operate, what we want to do as a band, and how we participate,” says guitarist Malachi Greene. “At our core, we are a punk and a hardcore band, regardless of how the song shifts and changes.

Scowl is a band that sounds exactly like their name implies. Venomous, fierce, antagonistic. A sneer not to be crossed. Over the last five years, the Santa Cruz, California, band has firmly planted their flag in the hardcore scene with their vicious sound and ripping live show, sharing stages around the world with Circle Jerks, Touché Amoré, and Limp Bizkit, and filling slots at prominent festivals like Coachella, Sick New World, and Reading and Leeds. But with their new album, Are We All Angels (Dead Oceans), Scowl is aiming to funnel all that aggression through a more expansive version of themselves. Much of Are We All Angels grapples with Scowl’s newfound place in the hardcore scene, a community which has both embraced the band and made them something of a lightning rod over the past few years. Standout single “Not Hell, Not Heaven” outright rejects the narratives cast onto them by outsiders. “It’s about feeling victimized and being a victim, but not wanting to identify with being a victim,” explains vocalist Kat Moss. “It’s trying to find grace in the fact that I have my power. I live in my reality. You have to deal with whatever you're dealing with, and it ain’t working for me.” The band breaks from a sense of disassociation to seek deeper connections on “Fantasy.” “It’s incredibly challenging to try to balance my love for the scene while also feeling, in some spaces, extremely alienated and hated,” Moss says. “‘Fantasy’ is about feeling like I don't know how to connect with these people anymore, because I have shelled myself away so hard.” The album ends in a philosophical place on the closing, titular track, “Are We All Angels,” asking questions like, “Is this all there is?” and ultimately putting it on the listener to decide. “It’s about the personal struggle between good and evil. It doesn’t matter how ‘good’ or ‘bad’ you are, there are systems that will try to rewrite your narrative no matter what you actually do,” explains Moss, noting that punctuation on “Are We All Angels” has been deliberately omitted in an attempt to leave the statement open-ended. Are We All Angels is the highly anticipated follow-up to Scowl’s debut, 2021’s How Flowers Grow, a 16-minute primal scream over punishing riffs. But amidst the pounding chaos, it was the record’s sonic outlier, a cleaner interlude called “Seeds to Sow,” that, true to its name, planted the seed for what was to come for the band. “It kind of laid out this destiny for us, and I feel like now we’re fulfilling that,” says drummer Cole Gilbert. The band continued to expand their sound on 2023’s widely acclaimed Psychic Dance Routine EP, incorporating more pop hooks and favoring gentler singing over heavy screaming, paving the way for what would come next. Scowl’s growth got a huge boost from producer Will Yip (Turnstile, Title Fight, Code Orange, Balance and Composure), who broadened the band’s scope. “Will would say, ‘Everything you have here is correct, but it’s in the wrong place,’” says Gilbert. Moss adds: “Will really helped restructure a lot of the material. Some songs he tore apart to make more space for the really good hooks and choruses.” But even through this more eclectic approach, Scowl loses none of their edge, and still manages to convey the anger and frustration that lies underneath. They are deeply committed to carrying the ethos of punk and its sense of community. “Hardcore and punk have sculpted how we operate, what we want to do as a band, and how we participate,” says guitarist Malachi Greene. “At our core, we are a punk and a hardcore band, regardless of how the song shifts and changes.

Googling “paradise house”, the first results to pop up are an endless list of European b&b’s with whitewashed lime façades, all of them promising “…an unmatched travel experience a few steps from the sea”. Next, a little further down, are the institutional websites of a few select semi-luxury retirement homes (no photos shown, but lots of stock images of smiling nurses with reassuring looks). To find the “paradise house” we’re after, we have to scroll even further down. Much further down.

It feels like yesterday, and at the same time it seems like a million years ago. The Eighties had just ended, and it was still unclear what to expect from the Nineties. Mobile phones that were not the size of a briefcase and did not cost as much as a car? A frightening economic crisis? The guitar-rock revival?! Certainly, the best place to observe that moment of transition was the dancefloor. Truly epochal transformations were happening there. From America, within a short distance one from the other, two revolutionary new musical styles had arrived: the first one sounded a bit like an “on a budget” version of the best Seventies disco-music – Philly sound made with a set of piano-bar keyboards! – the other was even more sparse, futuristic and extraterrestrial. It was a music with a quite distinct “physical” component, which at the same time, to be fully grasped, seemed to call for the knotty theories of certain French post-modern philosophers: Gilles Deleuze, Félix Guattari, Paul Virilio... Both those genres – we would learn shortly after – were born in the black communities of Chicago and Detroit, although listening to those vinyl 12” (often wrapped in generic white covers, and with little indication in the label) you could not easily guess whether behind them there was a black boy from somewhere in the Usa, or a girl from Berlin, or a pale kid from a Cornish coastal town.

Quickly, similar sounds began to show up from all corners of Europe. A thousand variations of the same intuition: leaner, less lean, happier, slightly less intoxicated, more broken, slower, faster, much faster... Boom! From the dancefloors – the London ones at least, whose chronicles we eagerly read every month in the pages of The Face and i-D – came tales of a new generation of clubbers who had completely stopped “dressing up” to go dancing; of hot tempered hooligans bursting into tears and hugging everyone under the strobe lights as the notes of Strings of Life rose up through the fumes of dry ice (certain “smiling” pills were also involved, sure). At this point, however, we must move on to Switzerland.

In Switzerland, in the quiet and diligent town of Lugano, between the 1980s and 1990s there was a club called “Morandi”. Its hot night was on Wednesdays, when the audience also came from Milan, Como, Varese and Zurich. Legend goes that, one night, none less than Prince and Sheila E were spotted hiding among the sofas, on a day-off of the Italian dates of the Nude Tour… The Wednesday resident and superstar was an Italian dj with an exotic name: Don Carlos. The soundtrack he devised was a mixture of Chicago, Detroit, the most progressive R&B and certain forgotten classics of old disco music: practically, what the Paradise Garage in New York might have sounded like had it not closed in 1987. In between, Don Carlos also managed to squeeze in some tracks he had worked on in his studio on Lago Maggiore. One in particular: a track that was rather slow compared to the BPM in fashion at the time, but which was a perfect bridge between house and R&B. The title was Alone: Don Carlos would explain years later that it had to be intended both in the English meaning of “by itself” and like the Italian word meaning “halo”. That wasn’t the only double entendre about the song, anyway. Its own very deep nature was, indeed, double. On the one hand, Alone was built around an angelic keyboard pattern and a romantic piano riff that took you straight to heaven; on the other, it showcased enough electronic squelches (plus a sax part that sounded like it had been dissolved by acid rain) to pigeonhole the tune into the “junk modernity” section, aka the hallmark of all the most innovative sounds of the time: music that sounded like it was hand-crafted from the scraps of glittering overground pop.

No one knows who was the first to call it “paradise house”, nor when it happened. Alternative definitions on the same topic one happened to hear included “ambient house”, “dream house”, “Mediterranean progressive”… but of course none were as good (and alluring) as “paradise house”. What is certain is that such inclination for sounds that were in equal measure angelic and neurotic, romantic and unaffective, quickly became the trademark of the second generation of Italian house. Music that seemed shyly equidistant from all the rhythmic and electronic revolutions that had happened up to that moment (“Music perfectly adept at going nowhere slowly” as noted by English journalist Craig McLean in a legendary field report for Blah Blah Blah magazine). Music that to a inattentive ear might have sounded as anonymous as a snapshot of a random group of passers-by at 10AM in the centre of any major city, but perfectly described the (slow) awakening in the real world after the universal love binge of the so-called Second Summer of Love.

For a brief but unforgettable season, in Italy “paradise house” was the official soundtrack of interminable weekends spent inside the car, darting from one club to another, cutting the peninsula from North to centre, from East to West coast in pursuit of the latest after-hours disco, trading kilometres per hour with beats per minute: practically, a new New Year’s Eve every Friday and Saturday night. This too was no small transformation, as well as a shock for an adult Italy that was encountering for the first time – thanks to its sons and daughters – the wild side of industrial modernity. The clubbers of the so-called “fuoriorario” scene were the balls gone mad in the pinball machine most feared by newspapers, magazines and TV pundits. What they did each and every weekend, apart from going crazy to the sound of the current white labels, was linking distant geographical points and non-places (thank you Marc Augé!) – old dance halls, farmhouses and business centres – transformed for one night into house music heaven. As Marco D’Eramo wrote in his 1995 essay on Chicago, Il maiale e il grattacielo: “Four-wheeled capitalism distorts our age-old image of the city, it allows the suburbs to be connected to each other, whereas before they were connected only by the centre (…) It makes possible a metropolitan area without a metropolis, without a city centre, without downtown. The periphery is no longer a periphery of any centre, but is self-centred”.

“Paradise house” perfectly understood all of this and turned it into a sort of cyber-blues that didn’t even need words, and unexpectedly brought back a drop of melancholic (post?)-humanity within a world that by then – as we would wholly realise in the decades to come – was fully inhuman and heartless. A world where we were all alone, and surrounded by a sinister yellowish halo, like a neon at the end of its life cycle. But, for one night at least, happy."

Joni Void, the artistic persona of Montréal-based French-British producer Jean Néant (he/them) returns to songcraft on their warmest and most welcoming record yet, where the acclaimed sampledelic sound collagist chills out with an emotionally resonant song cycle tinged by downtempo, lo-fi, avant-pop, and trip-hop. Guests include Haco, Ytamo, Sook-Yin Lee, Pink Navel and N NAO. Every Life Is A Light expands on Void's recent stylistic turn towards more languorous and mellow lo-fi production, foreshadowed by the drifting looseness and ambient bricolage of their preceding experimental sound-art record. This transitional sensibility now shapes more defined song structures and styles, with loops are given time and space to unspool, and rhythms shot through the softer-focus lens of trip-hop and dub. Every Life Is A Light swaps the twitchy insistence of Void's acclaimed early albums for a newfound lightness and suppleness, still imbued with all the restlessness, sonic detailing, and emotional resonance that made their name. The neurotic brokenmachine kinetics of earlier Void, summarized by Sasha Geffen as "drawing despair and wonder from within the vast unfeeling of digital communication" in an 8.0 Pitchfork review, may be chilling out, but Void is becoming an ever better conjurer of hauntological feeling. Every Life Is A Light summons this in a comparatively buoyant, benevolent, head-nodding journey more open to tenderness and modest joys. Perhaps it's the sound of Void at greater peace with themselves and the world, despite the bittersweet cost: even as it channels grief, memorializing comrades and companions recently deceased, this album wants light. Void's raw materials continue to draw heavily from samples (their own Walkman cassette fieldrecordings and songs by others) and from a wide community of musical guests. Vocalists Haco on "Time Zone" and Ytamo on "Cloud Level" help levitate what could be lost tracks from a mid-90s Too Pure Records compilation of skewed-lounge electronica. Canadian musician Sook-Yin Lee sings on lead single "Vertigo," a sinewy 80bpm tape-loop and bassline groove propelled by psychedelically-layered lyrics that eventually turn the song in on itself entirely, like Grace Jones' "Nightclubbing" covered by Animal Collective. One of Void's greatest hip-hop loves is the Ruby Yacht collective; charter member Pink Navel drops some brilliant verses on "Story Board." The album's two minimal tracks, an extended piano loop set to a slow beat and shimmering electronics on "Muffin-A Song For My Cat" and the languid sampled bass riff and breakbeat of "Event Flow," are perhaps most overtly `lofi chill.' Indeed the whole album could be said to sit adjacent to those viral (if not already AI-generated) genre trends, which maybe begs the question on a lot of our minds: can specificity and authenticity of musical materials still be heard, still meaningfully signify substance and difference, still matter? Perhaps a question that fades in comparison to the career break Void could catch by landing on generic streaming playlists. More likely, these tracks remain too off-kilter, too genuinely lo-fi and ineffable, and too disqualified by the status of its peasant rights-holders, to catch the algos. Context remains the poor cousin of content. Meanwhile Void marches on, as a tireless organizer of local music events, bouncing around and often living in DIY venue, depending on the latest apartment eviction. With an ubiquitous polaroid camera in tow, they also document each communal happening with a single shot (and often a blinding flash bulb): a memory and metaphor for lives illuminated preciously, singularly, `imperfectly' in the moment. Dozens of these polaroids adorn the album's back cover and inner sleeve art in grid-like montages, as a fitting analog for the careful construction, grainy intimate materiality, and ephemeral feeling of these songs. Every Life Is A Light is Joni Void's most coherent and congenial record while relinquishing none of their experimentalist acumen as a producer or emotional attunement as a composer. Instead these qualities flourish, on an album that lights a humble flame for the fragile promise of homespun creative collaboration as unalienated labour and therapeutic communion, making an enchantingly idiosyncratic contribution to downtempo sample music along the way. Thanks for listening.

Tobacco City is a Chicago-based band that blends cosmic country with a mix of psychedelic rock and honky-tonk soul. Their sound captures the essence of small-town nostalgia while embracing modern-day themes, exploring heartache, longing, and the bittersweet nature of life. With their uplifting energy and authentic songwriting, Tobacco City continues to carve out a unique space in the countrytinged Americana scene. On Horses, the highly anticipated follow-up to their critically acclaimed debut, Tobacco City, USA, the band takes listeners on a nostalgic journey through the haze of youth, where time feels suspended and plans are nonexistent. The album’s lyrics conjure vivid images of small-town life—smoking schwag behind the grocery store, drinking cream from a gas station with your first love—capturing that carefree, uncertain time when the future felt distant. The music channels the spirit of ’70s country with influences from legends like Gram Parsons and Emmylou Harris, bringing a timeless, uplifting energy to each track. At the same time, the lyrics intersect with modern-day themes, blending the beauty and innocence of youth with the harsh realities of life. Horses feels like a contemporary take on classic country, merging a nostalgic past with the complex world of today, all while remaining undeniably authentic and heartfelt. This follow-up to Tobacco City, USA—which received high praise from NPR and Rolling Stone— cements the band’s place at the forefront of a new wave of countrytinged Americana. “...Like the Chicago band’s namesake, a slow smoke hangs in the air, heavy with heartbreak and feather-blue eyeshadow, but puts a brave face on. Lexi Goddard sings with a far-away look over a pedal-steel cry, a melody that sways to country songs on jukeboxes of yore...” —NPR “Chicago’s Tobacco City do more with less... spacious grooves as pedal steel wafts through like a gentle breeze. Vocalist Lexi Goddard and Chris Coleslaw sounds simultaneously wistful and playful throughout...” —Rolling Stone

"There is great power in secrecy. Detached from the world, brewed under a strict code of confidentiality, a new lifeform came into existence. Led by none other than Sonata Arctica frontman Tony Kakko, this new beast of his gained momentum in the massive shadow of his wildly successful power metal superheroes, slowly, steadily, biding its time, waiting for the right moment. This moment is now: With his self-titled debut, Tony Kakko opens the curtains into this strange new world of his just enough to take a first peek – and instantly hunger for more. A master story teller and a wizard of conjuring musical emotions, Himmelkraft stages Kakkos trademark talents in a wholly new, unexpected and thrilling way. To him, the sky truly is the limit, bestowing upon us an album that sounds like nothing else out there – brooding and dark, menacing and eerie, stomping and monumental.




This project sees Tony Kakko enter a fascinating new era. Much like the legendary Elven smiths of old, forging away in solemn silence, Kakko has stopped the wheel of time to reinvent himself and his bold musical vision. Shrouded in mystery, a new being appears in the fog, barely discernible and yet distinct the very moment Tony Kakko starts to sing.

Yet, everything else remains just what it was from the very start – a mystery. Call them songs for a dying world or songs for a world reborn – either way, you will be intrigued how this extraordinary project will develop. And that’s a promise
"

Yellow & Black Vinyl. "The first three are innocent in a way, because we didn't have an audience when we were making them," Oberst says. "But from Lifted on, I was definitely aware of an audience. Lifted was well-received right away, and then everything happened with Wide Awake and Digital Ash." Those two albums came out simultaneously. And their lead singles - "Take It Easy (Love Nothing)," from the austere, remote Digital Ash, and "Lua," from the warm, folky Wide Awake - debuted in the top two slots on the Billboard Hot 100. "First Day of My Life," also from Wide Awake, would later be voted the Number One love song of all time by NPR Music's reader's poll.Bright Eyes had officially broken through. It was a heady, exciting time, but also fraught and tense, both because of the band's careening new fame, and because of the state of the world. When Bright Eyes made their Tonight Show debut in 2006, they chose to perform none of their shiny new hits, instead delivering a searing, harrowing rendition of their caustic anti-Bush anthem, "When The President Talks To God."These days, Oberst is still amusing himself by messing with the extremes Bright Eyes baked into this era's releases, extremes that reflected the polar, with-us-or-against-us, fractious feel of the times. The reworked Digital Ash tracks, originally so clean and elegant, are, on the companion EP, full of "harmonica and mandolins - folky vibes," Oberst says. While the analogue sweetness of the Wide Awake songs have been put through a detached nihilism filter.

A special ‘Submerge” 12” EP featuring a bunch of reworks of this pivotal track from Apta's forthcoming ‘The Pool’ album on Castles in Space.

Kicking things off, Apta's own rework of the original sees the shadowy textures and droning wall-of-sound backdrop turned into a static-strewn dreamland of a piece, underpinned by a flickering guitar riff, cracked snare drums and fuzzed-out Odyssey strokes before launching into the euphoric half-time vocal refrain.

The follow-up sees Clay Pipe boss, illustrator and musician step into her Hardy Tree guise for a beautifully hypnotic waft of wistful folk-tinged electronics and shimmering ambient textures. It's warmly nostalgic, and packed full of all the feel of a lovely Clay Pipe release.

Following on from that, modular wizard Polypores takes pieces of the original and stretches them into an organic swell of texture and movement, warping the low basses and flickering modular plinks (and / or plonks) into a beautiful, undulating wall.

Flip over and It's none other than the brilliant Pye Corner Audio, providing an organically blooming suite of saturated percussion and woozy drifting oscillators, in peak PCA fashion. There are few artists that can do as much as with little as Martin Jenkins can, and hearing his audio sunshine underpinning the vocal line is breathtaking.

It's good to get the ears nice and soothed too before the aural assault and hypnotic spirit-cleansing heft of the legendary Gnod. Dubby throbbing bass and cavernous reverb tear the original into shards and piece it together as a churning, industrial powerhouse before shooting the rest into the endless reaches of space.

Closing things out on a space theme is the ideal way to do things too, with Field Lines Cartographer's remix taking things waaay into the outer reaches. Grounding bass churns and stellar synth sweeps float below the modulated vocal line, resulting in a perfectly crafted drone, rich in melody but untethered to the earth.

After appearing with Archie Shepp at the landmark Pan-African Cultural festival in Algiers in 1969, African-American trumpeter-cornetist Clifford Thornton recorded a set of his own compositions in Paris later that year. The result was Ketchaoua, an important political and spiritual as well as musical statement that reflected the inspiration that he took from Islam. Indeed, the title of the album refers to the awe-inspiring mosque in Algiers.
Clifford Thornton’s superb band comprised his compatriots, saxophonists Archie Shepp and Arthur Jones, drummer Sunny Murray, trombonist Grachan Moncur III, pianist Dave Burrell, and bassist Earl Freeman, as well as French bassist Beb Guérin. Together they brought energy and ingenuity to the leader’s compositions, which were characterized by vivid atmospheres, exploratory, mysterious sounds and haunting themes. And the song titles conveyed an important social and cultural message. Pieces such as ‘Brotherhood’ pointed to the sense of unity and kinship that African-American artists felt with the citizens they encountered on their journey to North Africa and Europe.
This newly remastered deluxe edition of Ketchaoua provides an opportunity to hear one of the major entries in Clifford Thornton’s relatively small yet nonetheless highly impressive discography. It is an album that marks him out as a figure in the avant- garde movement of the late 60s and early 70s who deserves far wider recognition.

Loyle Carner will release his highly anticipated sophomore record, 'Not Waving, But Drowning' on 19 April via AMF Records.

'Not Waving, But Drowning' follows Loyle's BRIT (Best Male, Best Newcomer) and Mercury Prize nominated, top 20 debut 'Yesterday's Gone'. The bedrock of honest and raw sentimentality that you heard on 'Yesterday's Gone' left an inextinguishable mark on music in general and UK Hip Hop in particular, standing out as an ageless, bulletproof debut.

'Not Waving, But Drowning', Loyle's new album, gives yet more evidence - as if it were needed - of his razor-sharp flow and his unique storytelling ability. Yes, he can rap, but he allies that with the sensitivity of a poet, the observational skills of a novelist, and warmth of your best friend. The album opens with 'Dear Jean', a letter to his mother in which he's telling her that he has found the love of his life, 'a woman from the skies', and he's moving out.

It goes without saying that Loyle's music is hard to categorise, but what is even more impressive is that for someone who grew up listening to Mos Def, Biggie Smalls, Roots Manuva, and Wu Tang Clan, he doesn't sound like any of them. Although he might from time to time give lyrical nods to them, he's no imitator.

Loyle loves cooking. There are two tracks on this album named after chefs. The British-Israeli chef Yotam Ottolenghi, and the now deceased Italian chef Antonio Carluccio. 'Ottolenghi' the first single from the album was featured on the BBC Radio 1 B-list, BBC 6 Music A-list and has already been streamed over 5 million times.

Loyle refers to real life for everything, the title of 'Yesterday's Gone' came from a song of his step father, the title of his new album 'Not Waving, But Drowning' comes from a poem by his grandfather, which in turn came from a Stevie Smith poem. What you hear on the track 'Krispy' is real. He is pouring his heart out to his best friend Rebel Kleff after their relationship went downhill, he invites him on the track to say his piece but he doesn't turn up, so we get a flugel solo instead.

Loyle also has his own personal black consciousness movement. When he refers to his 'fathers' in the track 'Looking Back' he really is referring to two fathers. His biological father, a black man who he knows, but knows very little of, and his step father, a poet and musician who happens to be a white man but died a sudden unexpected death from epilepsy (SUDEP). With no real emotional ties to his biological father, but a deep connection with a deceased step-father, where does a young child turn He succinctly captures many of the great, unspoken, cultural and historical paradoxes of multicultural Britain on 'Looking Back'.

An album like this is hard to find. It is for those who like their Hip Hop to have soul, and their soul to have spirit. This is because it works on so many levels, but it is reflecting the personality of its creator. There are a host of collaborators here, Jorja Smith, Rebel Kleff, Kiko Bun, Kwes, Jordan Rakei, Sampha, Tom Misch and more, but none are overpowering. They blend righteously into place.
Loyle is not bitter with people who have let him down, or a society that lets so many down, but the combination of anger and love he has gives his voice the perfect blend of strength and vulnerability. This might be a coming of age album, but it's also a coming of ageless album. Loyle's 2019 Spring tour - which includes London's Roundhouse - sold out within 20 minutes of being on sale.

Not Waving, But Drowning



A rapper that raps about family is hard to find. The boys in the 'hood' tend not to be that interested in how much a 'brother' loves his mother, or how much he misses his dad, or even how much he misses his best friend. The boys in the 'hood' tend to be obsessed with the size of their cars, girls, bank accounts, and other personal 'possessions'. Loyle Carner's Mercury and BRIT Prize nominated debut 'Yesterday's Gone' (Released 2017), made it clear that he wasn't that kind of rapper. In fact, every time I talk to him about his work we talk about the world, and we tended to confuse ourselves by calling his work rap, poems, or songs, sometimes in the same sentence. They are in truth all of these things.



Here's some poetry.



Honestly I need them.

I hate them but I grieve them

I think I've finally found the reason

Trust

Like the fire needs the air.

I won't burn unless you're there.





'Not Waving, But Drowning', Loyle's forthcoming new album, gives us yet more evidence, (if it were needed), that he still has what rappers call, flow, but he hasn't lost any of his story telling qualities. Yes, the boy can rap, but a rapper with the sensitivity of a true poet, the observational skills of a novelist, and warmth of your best friend. The album opens with 'Dear Jean', a letter to his mother in which he's telling her that he has found the love of his life, (a woman from the skies), and he's moving out. He really loves the woman from the skies, but he still loves his mum, and so he reassures her that there is no competition, and tells her that 'She's not behind me or behind you, but beside we and beside two', his words. Or to put it another way, moving out without moving out. My words.



It goes without saying that Loyle's music is hard to categorise, but what is even more impressive is that for someone who grew up listening to Mos Def, Biggie Smalls, Roots Manuva, and Wu Tang Clan, he doesn't sound like any of them. Although he might from time to time give lyrical nods to them, he's no imitator. He says finding his own voice was something he always found easy. Although young, (in terms of a musical career), he has confidence in his own words and his own voice, and has never been tempted to sound like he's been hanging out in the USA, or rolling in 'Grime' on the mean streets of East London. And so when it comes to the creative process he doesn't simply find a beat to jump on and ride. Beats are important, but they are tenderly layered with samples, keyboards, or live drums, all imaginatively assembled for the laying on of words. Some tracks start with the idea, some with poetry, and some with a verse from a singer or some other melodic inspiration, but there is no formula.



Here's some poetry.



Don't hold any memories of us

Rather hold you everyday until the memories are dust

Yo we only caught the train

Cos you know I hate the bus





A prolific reader, who has dyslexia is hard to find. Add ADHD (Attention deficit hyperactivity disorder) to that and life should become even more difficult. To deal with your difficulties you devise coping strategies, which can differ from person to person. Loyle loves cooking. There are two tracks on this album named after chefs. The British-Israeli chef Ottolenghi, and the now deceased Italian chef Antonio Carluccio. Loyle describes himself as 'weird' because he is happy to read a cookbook as if he was reading a novel or a book of poetry. He has opened a cookery school for young adults not just because he loves food and wants to make more of it, but because it is one of the few things that can focus the ADHD mind. And when it comes to his other love, football, his approach is the same. Focus. He wanted to be a striker he says, up front scoring goals, but found his best position was in midfield because he was able to focus, check options, and see passes ahead of time, providing passes for other players just when they needed them. He says, 'You don't grow out of ADHD, you grow into it.' Loyle is also working with Levi's® on their music project where he is mentoring young musicians over a six month period, culminating at Liverpool Sound City festival.



More poetry.



When the going is tough

I wait till it falls on deaf ears

Hearsay

Without the boundaries of love



He also said, 'Ask most people and they will say that they love their mothers, but most are not going to rap about her'. On his first album Loyle's mum Jean wrote about the 'scribble of a boy' that growing up would take things apart to see how they worked. On this album she speaks with pride about a man who has found his place in the world.



Yes, poetry.



I'm still looking for the answers

Trying to find the right questions

Still waiting for my fathers

But can't break them in to sections



This poetry is serious. Loyle has his own personal black consciousness movement. He told me that he always felt safe at home, and being the darkest one in the family never meant a thing, but then when he had to face the outside world he felt hostility. It shook him up. Now he had to start asking questions, but what were the questions. This is serious. When he refers to his 'fathers' in the verse above taken from the track 'Looking Back' he really is referring to two fathers. His biological father, a black man who he knows, but knows very little of, and his step father, a poet and musician who happens to be a white man but died a sudden unexpected death from epilepsy (SUDEP). So to whom would a young black (or mixed race) kid turn He succinctly captures many of the great, unspoken, cultural and historical paradoxes of multicultural Britain when he says, 'My great grandfather could of owned my other one.' We are a people descended from enslaved people on one hand, and enslavers on the other, something we are still struggling to come to terms with, and this can be apparent in one family. A big book could have told you that, but here we get it in one line on the track, Looking Back.





Loyle refers to real life for everything. The album is peppered with captured moments that he records on his phone. These moments can range from conversations with taxi drivers, to capturing the moment when England scores a goal in the world cup. The title of 'Yesterday's Gone' came from a song of his step father, the title of his new album 'Not Waving but Drowning' comes from a poem by his grandfather, which in turn came from a Stevie Smith poem. What you hear on the track 'Krispy' is real. He is pouring his heart out to his best friend after their relationship went downhill, he invites him on the track to say his piece but he doesn't turn up, so we get a flugel solo instead. Yes people, this is real.



An album like this is hard to find. It is for those who like their Hip Hop to have soul, and their soul to have spirit, this is an album for those who have, (I'm sorry, I'm going to say it), emotional intelligence. This is because it works on so many levels, but it is reflecting the personality of its creator. There are a host of collaborators here, Jorja Smith, Rebel Kleff, Kiko Bun, Jordan Rakei, Sampha, Tom Misch and more, but none are overpowering. They blend righteously into place. Loyle is not bitter with people who have let him down, or the society that has let him down, but the combination of anger and love he has gives his voice the perfect blend of strength and vulnerability. This might be a coming of age album, but it's also a coming of ageless album. His first album worked, and this second album is a continuation of that work. Not creating a form, but being formless, as someone like Bruce Lee once said.

And here's some poetry from mum.



We talked long in to the darkest hours

Until we saw the burnished sky

And our eyes stung

As our words blurred and became thoughts

As we were silenced by the dawn

We clung to each other like sailors in a storm

As soon as Martin Circus was born in 1969, the band laid foundations for the French "Pop Musique" genre, deliberately turning its back on both French yéyés and rock'n'roll to better embrace psychedelia and the French language. In 1971, they were a pioneering, innovative group moving as fast as a speeding train, building upon everything they found on the way. However, faced with band members changing often, management issues and music evolution, Martin Circus ended up trying to fit in every style: soul, R&B, glam rock, disco, new wave, 80s mainstream music. To follow their journey is to listen to the world shifting along music charts. Behind the scenes, since the very first days of the band, one man had been pulling all the strings. Manager and artistic director Gérard Hugé used to work for both the band and the label - this has never been good news. What he cared about the most was getting records out, no matter who played on them. In the mid-70s, he registered the Martin Circus name, granting himself full power over the band. Deciding that it no longer had either a lyricist or a composer, he made the remaining musicians embark on a series of American 60s hits adaptations. As a result, they made tons of money : "Marylène" was a huge hit and gave them a new impulse. The Martins adopted a new look by wearing shiny Courrèges-style suits and platform boots, and on stage they performed dance moves choreographed by the eccentric Amadeo. They completely fit into the disco craze which was about to take over. Still, their music blended doo-wop and rockabilly with glam rock and funk music. They eventually hit disco with a soundtrack in the mannerof French disco groups such as Space and Voyage. Effortlessly, they released the epic 14- minute "Disco Circus", a track which was to become a real underground gem. DJ and remixer François Kevorkian then released it on the American Prelude label in a self-edited version, shortened to 7 minutes while retaining all the dazzling passages of the original track. It came to be a hit in the clubs of New York and Chicago, making a lasting impression on everyone who heard it. It got sampled on at least 40 tracks over the following decades and featured in dozens of bootlegs and prestigious compilations - by Laurent Garnier, Carl Craig, Juan Atkins, Joey Negro, The Beatnuts, The Rapture, and by Danny Krivit in the DJ culture film Maestro. As the 80s arrived, Martin Circus once again changed the way they looked and their style. Inspired by Devo and their cold dance music, by Buggles' synthpop and Plastic Bertand's postpunk. Throughout their career full of ups and downs, Martin Circus nonetheless managed to keep up with one stable element: contrary to what they seemed, the musicians never took the easy way out. Their playing and arrangements were consistently flawless and polished, they relentlessly dedicated themselves to playing quality music and this can only compel admiration. As Coco Chanel once said, "Fashion goes out of fashion, style never does."

Gary Marks ‘ Gathering’ is exactly what you would call a miracle. Self-produced in 1974 and engineered at Vitra Sonic Recording Studios in New York, the album introduced the crispy talent of the guitarist/pianist and producer. A genuine blend of folksy harmonies and jazzy arrangements, the record could have been possibly the missing link between Tim Buckley ‘Starsailor’ and some early seventies Impulse ! session. Now it’s about time to get a hold of this masterpiece

”Gathering includes guitar legend John Scofield, the amazing jazz pianist Michael Cochrane, and one the of the top vibraphonists in the world, David Samuels. But at the time none of them were known to the general public. In fact, Gathering was the recording debut for all of us.” (from Gary Marks liner notes)

Volume 1 of this expertly curated project of 90s Italian House - put together by Don Carlos.

If Paradise was half as nice… by Fabio De Luca.

Googling “paradise house”, the first results to pop up are an endless list of European b&b’s with whitewashed lime façades, all of them promising “…an unmatched travel experience a few steps from the sea”. Next, a little further down, are the institutional websites of a few select semi-luxury retirement homes (no photos shown, but lots of stock images of smiling nurses with reassuring looks). To find the “paradise house” we’re after, we have to scroll even further down. Much further down.

It feels like yesterday, and at the same time it seems like a million years ago. The Eighties had just ended, and it was still unclear what to expect from the Nineties. Mobile phones that were not the size of a briefcase and did not cost as much as a car? A frightening economic crisis? The guitar-rock revival?! Certainly, the best place to observe that moment of transition was the dancefloor. Truly epochal transformations were happening there. From America, within a short distance one from the other, two revolutionary new musical styles had arrived: the first one sounded a bit like an “on a budget” version of the best Seventies disco-music – Philly sound made with a set of piano-bar keyboards! – the other was even more sparse, futuristic and extraterrestrial. It was a music with a quite distinct “physical” component, which at the same time, to be fully grasped, seemed to call for the knotty theories of certain French post-modern philosophers: Gilles Deleuze, Félix Guattari, Paul Virilio... Both those genres – we would learn shortly after – were born in the black communities of Chicago and Detroit, although listening to those vinyl 12” (often wrapped in generic white covers, and with little indication in the label) you could not easily guess whether behind them there was a black boy from somewhere in the Usa, or a girl from Berlin, or a pale kid from a Cornish coastal town.

Quickly, similar sounds began to show up from all corners of Europe. A thousand variations of the same intuition: leaner, less lean, happier, slightly less intoxicated, more broken, slower, faster, much faster... Boom! From the dancefloors – the London ones at least, whose chronicles we eagerly read every month in the pages of The Face and i-D – came tales of a new generation of clubbers who had completely stopped “dressing up” to go dancing; of hot tempered hooligans bursting into tears and hugging everyone under the strobe lights as the notes of Strings of Life rose up through the fumes of dry ice (certain “smiling” pills were also involved, sure). At this point, however, we must move on to Switzerland.

In Switzerland, in the quiet and diligent town of Lugano, between the 1980s and 1990s there was a club called “Morandi”. Its hot night was on Wednesdays, when the audience also came from Milan, Como, Varese and Zurich. Legend goes that, one night, none less than Prince and Sheila E were spotted hiding among the sofas, on a day-off of the Italian dates of the Nude Tour… The Wednesday resident and superstar was an Italian dj with an exotic name: Don Carlos. The soundtrack he devised was a mixture of Chicago, Detroit, the most progressive R&B and certain forgotten classics of old disco music: practically, what the Paradise Garage in New York might have sounded like had it not closed in 1987. In between, Don Carlos also managed to squeeze in some tracks he had worked on in his studio on Lago Maggiore. One in particular: a track that was rather slow compared to the BPM in fashion at the time, but which was a perfect bridge between house and R&B. The title was Alone: Don Carlos would explain years later that it had to be intended both in the English meaning of “by itself” and like the Italian word meaning “halo”. That wasn’t the only double entendre about the song, anyway. Its own very deep nature was, indeed, double. On the one hand, Alone was built around an angelic keyboard pattern and a romantic piano riff that took you straight to heaven; on the other, it showcased enough electronic squelches (plus a sax part that sounded like it had been dissolved by acid rain) to pigeonhole the tune into the “junk modernity” section, aka the hallmark of all the most innovative sounds of the time: music that sounded like it was hand-crafted from the scraps of glittering overground pop.

No one knows who was the first to call it “paradise house”, nor when it happened. Alternative definitions on the same topic one happened to hear included “ambient house”, “dream house”, “Mediterranean progressive”… but of course none were as good (and alluring) as “paradise house”. What is certain is that such inclination for sounds that were in equal measure angelic and neurotic, romantic and unaffective, quickly became the trademark of the second generation of Italian house. Music that seemed shyly equidistant from all the rhythmic and electronic revolutions that had happened up to that moment (“Music perfectly adept at going nowhere slowly” as noted by English journalist Craig McLean in a legendary field report for Blah Blah Blah magazine). Music that to a inattentive ear might have sounded as anonymous as a snapshot of a random group of passers-by at 10AM in the centre of any major city, but perfectly described the (slow) awakening in the real world after the universal love binge of the so-called Second Summer of Love.

For a brief but unforgettable season, in Italy “paradise house” was the official soundtrack of interminable weekends spent inside the car, darting from one club to another, cutting the peninsula from North to centre, from East to West coast in pursuit of the latest after-hours disco, trading kilometres per hour with beats per minute: practically, a new New Year’s Eve every Friday and Saturday night. This too was no small transformation, as well as a shock for an adult Italy that was encountering for the first time – thanks to its sons and daughters – the wild side of industrial modernity. The clubbers of the so-called “fuoriorario” scene were the balls gone mad in the pinball machine most feared by newspapers, magazines and TV pundits. What they did each and every weekend, apart from going crazy to the sound of the current white labels, was linking distant geographical points and non-places (thank you Marc Augé!) – old dance halls, farmhouses and business centres – transformed for one night into house music heaven. As Marco D’Eramo wrote in his 1995 essay on Chicago, Il maiale e il grattacielo: “Four-wheeled capitalism distorts our age-old image of the city, it allows the suburbs to be connected to each other, whereas before they were connected only by the centre (…) It makes possible a metropolitan area without a metropolis, without a city centre, without downtown. The periphery is no longer a periphery of any centre, but is self-centred”.

“Paradise house” perfectly understood all of this and turned it into a sort of cyber-blues that didn’t even need words, and unexpectedly brought back a drop of melancholic (post?)-humanity within a world that by then – as we would wholly realise in the decades to come – was fully inhuman and heartless. A world where we were all alone, and surrounded by a sinister yellowish halo, like a neon at the end of its life cycle. But, for one night at least, happy.

Black Eyed Sons - A New Rock 'n' Roll Collective - Members of The Quireboys and Down n' Outz are joined by an amazing collection of fellow musicians for a joyous collaboration of mutual admiration and musical celebration. Enjoy the debut album 'Cowboys In Pinstriped Suits" released via Off Yer Rocka recordings 31st January 2025. Since the band announced they were working on their highly anticipated new album, "The Band Rolls On", what was already becoming a chance for a musical rebirth metamorphosized into something far bigger and more ambitious. The final cuts feature distinguished collaborations from a multitude of Rock Royalty.

The band, their management and close friends within the industry all agreed that this should be treated as a stand-alone new project, a Rock 'n' Roll Collective going under the name "Black Eyed Sons", a nod to a previous album from their extensive back catalogue. The revised album title, "Cowboys in Pinstriped Suits” is named after one of the eleven tracks and features none other than Def Leppard’s Joe Elliott alongside Alice Cooper guitarist Ryan Roxie and bass grooves from Chip Z’Nuff. Guy Griffin commented "It's been nice to take a break and focus on the writing. Working with our own band as well as so many friends within the industry has done nothing but inspire us to write and create this exciting new project. We've done the hard work getting the tracks laid down, we're now looking forward to going back out on the road as Black Eyed Sons and delivering something entirely new from five musicians who've been playing together for over twenty years. Relationships break down sometimes, that’s Rock 'n' Roll, everyone does their thing, but we want to make sure there's no confusion as to what this is. Whilst we're proud of our musical history, that was then, this is now. It's onwards and upwards, so let the music do the talking. Joe Elliott added, "Having worked with these guys since 2009 in the greatest “other” band I could ever hope to work with, The Down ’n’ Outz, it just felt totally natural for me to reciprocate the love these guys have shown me by contributing to what is essentially a new beginning for them. So welcome to the mad world of Rock ’n’ Roll, you Black Eyed Sons." - Joe Elliott (Cowboys in Pinstriped Suits). Other collaborators had this to say: “This song feels so real and natural. Like a hug from an old friend. I’m proud to be a part of it.” - Charlie Starr (Autumn Reigns) - ‘’My friendship with the Quireboys started a long time ago and each time our paths have crossed, the bond has grown stronger. Therefore, I would lie if I didn’t say that in the back of my mind there always was a wish to do something together. So, I am more than thrilled when I was invited to sing on the Black Eyed Sons new album and that they also gave me a song where I could be who I am’’ ⁃ Mike Tramp (Your True Colours) - “I go back 30 years with these guys. A band that I’ve always loved and respected. To be asked to be part of this project was a great thrill, and proud moment as a guitarist.” - Scotti Hill (Dig Me out of this Hole) - “I’ve known Griff since the beginning of our respective careers…we are both from the old school baby, and Griff has always been the embodiment of rock n’ roll - genuine, classy, trashy, and an attitude that exemplifies what it is to be a rock n’ roll troubadour“ ⁃ Ryan Roxie (Cowboys in Pinstriped Suits/Can't Put Your Arms Around A Memory) - “Since you graced us with your presence on the Wolves’ debut album, it’s only fair we should be a part of your debut as Black Eyed Sons. All the best!” - Kyf Brewer / Company Of Wolves (Foolin’ Yourself) - “Not only was it a pleasure to play guitar & sing on this record but it was also an honour to have Griff & the band record one of our songs! - Steve Conte / Company Of Wolves/Michael Monroe/NY Dolls (Foolin’ Yourself) - Band: Guy Griffin (lead vocals/guitar); Paul Guerin (guitar); Keith Weir (keyboards); Nick Mailing (bass); Pip Mailing (drums)