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Calling a Deicide album “more accessible” is kind of like calling a velociraptor less lethal than a T-Rex…you’re gonna die either way. But on 1997’s Serpents of the Light, the fourth album from the Tampa death metal quartet, Glen Benton’s rage-filled imprecations are a little more intelligible and songs like “Slave to the Cross” and “Blame It on God” do sport choruses that verge upon being hooky (if you have a meathook in mind). The anti-religion invective remains unabated, however… this remains music in extremis despite the stripped-down production. For its first-ever standalone U.S. LP release, we’ve remastered Serpents of the Light for vinyl and given it an Orange Smoke pressing complete with an inner sleeve featuring lyrics and a 12” x 24” poster of the cover image. Not for even the faintly faint of heart

Am 12. und 13. Oktober 2024 gaben American Football zwei ausverkaufte Konzerte im El Rey Theatre in Los Angeles als Teil ihrer Tour zum 25. Jubiläum ihres selbstbetitelten Debütalbums. Mit Gastauftritten von Ethel Cain und M.A.G.S. wurden diese besonderen Konzerte für das erste und einzige Live-Album der Band aufgezeichnet. Zeitgleich erscheint gemeinsam mit Prophet Media und Regisseur Steph Rinzler ein abendfüllender Konzertfilm mit Interviews. Sowohl der Film als auch das Album fangen das Erbe und die unerwartet anhaltende Stärke einer Band ein, die ein Genre mitgeprägt hat.

Nachdem American Football 1999 während des Studiums in aller Stille ihr Debütalbum veröffentlichten, lösten sie sich auf, um sich anderen Projekten zu widmen. 15 Jahre später kehrte die Band jedoch mit einer Fangemeinde zurück, die in der Underground-Emo-Szene stetig gewachsen war. Das Album landete später auf #6 der Rolling Stone-Liste "40 Greatest Emo Albums Of All Time", während Pitchfork der Deluxe-Neuauflage den Titel "Best New Reissue" verlieh und die LP als "einflussreichstes Album des Genres" bezeichnete.

New Wave of Alternative Hardcore! 217's debut album ' In Your Gaze " is a combination of different Hardcore schools mixed with dreamy, dark and intense moments. This is a turning point. Drawing inspiration from American old-school hardcore (Negative Approach, Uniform Choice, Slapshot, Madball, Bad Brains, Chain of Strength, Growing Concern), mid-'90s new school (108, Have Heart, Snapcase, Abhinanda), as well as math rock, hardcore, and alternative dark rock (Melvins, Botch, Bauhaus, Fields of the Nephilim, Stone Temple Pilots, Killing Joke, The Doors), 217 now presents itself with a renewed and at times dreamlike musical and lyrical identity.

None other than Nick Cave helped director John Hillcoat with the screenplay for the movie Lawless, while he also took great care of the movie’s soundtrack. Cave and fellow musician Warren Ellis form the core of The Bootleggers, a country and bluegrass ensemble that welcome a string of guests artist like Emmylou Harris, Ralph Stanley and Mark Lanegan. The Lawless soundtrack contains cover versions of artists such as Velvet Underground and Captain Beefheart and also features original compositions by Cave/Ellis and the great Willie Nelson. Lawless is a studded movie by director John Hillcoat (The Road, The Proposition) about a gang of bootleggers in Virginia during the Great Depression. And when we say star-studded, we really mean it: Guy Pierce, Gary Oldman, Tom Hardy and Shia LeBoeuf signed up for the gritty and evocative story about brothers who try to create their own American Dream during Prohibition. Lawless is available as a limited edition edition of 750 numbered copies on smoke coloured vinyl and includes an 8-page booklet with movie pictures and liner notes by Hal Willner and director John Hillcoat.

The 2024 biographical drama film Back To Black explores the life of the iconic talent Amy Winehouse, played by Marisa Abela. The biopic is directed by Sam Taylor-Johnson and written by Matt Greenhalgh. Nick Cave and Warren Ellis crafted the evocative soundtrack for the documentary Back to Black, which chronicles the rise and impact of Amy Winehouse. Their composition is a haunting yet soulful homage, blending melancholic strings and ambient soundscapes to mirror Winehouse's turbulent journey and profound artistry. The duo's music underscores the film's emotional depth, capturing both the rawness of Winehouse's struggles and the brilliance of her musical legacy. The music of Black To Black is cut on 45 RPM and is available as a limited edition of 750 numbered copies on gold and black marbled vinyl and includes a 4-page booklet with liner notes by director Sam Taylor-Johnson.

When Straight Ahead hit the shelves in 1974, it marked another bold chapter for Brian Auger"s Oblivion Express. The band - Steve Ferrone on drums, Barry Dean on bass, Jack Mills on guitar, and Lennox Langton on congas - was firing on all cylinders, pushing jazz fusion into fresh, uncharted territory. Critics took notice, with Billboard praising the album as "excellent in development and inventiveness", and it found its way onto multiple charts at once.

Acclaimed electronic musicians, producers and sound architects Max Cooper and Rob Clouth team up for a new collaborative EP; a dark, playful four-track dive into ambient, breakbeat and techno’s subconscious flow, featuring a standout vocal performance from South London rapper FLOHIO.

Recorded over a series of spontaneous London sessions, “8 Billion Realities” channels years of creative exchange between two of the genre’s most quietly innovative artists and is a result of a decision between the longtime friends to refrain from conceptual overthinking in favour of instinct and joy.

As long-time admirers of each other’s audio/visual work, Cooper and Clouth collaborated in London together after both emerging from intense, idea-heavy album cycles. What followed was a series of exploratory sessions, half-improvised, half-built around half-formed thoughts.

The result is a club-ready EP that feels alive and human: imperfect and hypnotically rich.

“Rob Clouth has been one of my favourite electronic music producers since I first heard his work in 2011,” says Cooper. “His work is more full of ideas and structure than anyone else.” “We were both coming from extensive conceptual studio albums and both in the mood for simplifying things and having some fun with the music, so that’s what we did”.

For Clouth, no stranger to Max Coopers Mesh label having previously released an array of EP’s plus his 2020 debut album “Zero Point” this record marks a new chapter, both creatively and personally.“Something pretty new for me is collaborating,” he says. “You kind of have to when to stop, because if you develop an idea all the way to its endpoint, the other person has nowhere to jump in.”

The first “A Moment Set Aside” began as a break from another idea, a live, unplanned improvisation based around arps and ambience. “The track was written in about as long as it took to play it,” says Cooper. “It was pulled from a 1 hour recording session, more or less as you hear it… the energy and excitement grew as the unplanned moment bore some magic.”

“The lesson being that sometimes it’s helpful to set aside a moment without forcing results, and let the subconscious have something to say.” What followed was darker, heavier. “Asymptote” is detuned techno. Subversive and euphoric in its descent. “We found a sort of brain mangling, half consonant, half wandering detuned techno pulse, which we started chatting about being a sort of pit of spiralling body parts we were falling into,” says Cooper. “It was a lot of fun to work on and let loose with bigger kicks than I usually ever get to unleash.”

Then came “8 Billion Realities”, featuring a standout rap performance from FLOHIO; an emerging figure in the UK grime and rap scene. The track was inspired by conversations about algorithmic echo chambers and hyper-personalised online worlds. Frantic, direct, and South London to the core, FLOHIO brings this tension to life. Her sharp, intense flow cuts through distortion and rhythm, landing the track somewhere between chaos and control instantly making it one of the most striking moments in either artist’s catalogue. “A different reality for all 8 billion of us,” says Cooper. “We weren’t sure if it would work… but there was something about the energy of the percussive idea and the story which felt like it might fit.” “Then FLOHIO had a play with it and straight off the bat absolutely killed it, not just with the lyrics and energy, but the harmonising too, it was a beautiful process.”

The final piece on the EP “Candeleda” originated from Clouth’s solo experiments with a live rig made entirely of vocals and keys, using his self-developed “cheatbox” system. “He put forward a beautiful stumbling melodic sequence which we bounced back and forth adding harmonies and synth layers,” says Cooper. “It rounds off a collection covering some of the breadth of music that we both love.”

The third drop into the Poorly Knit ocean, sees Bruce washed ashore with three silted and barnacled explorations into dub techno, ambient and beyond.

Seizing the microphone for the first time since his sophomore album Not Ready For Love, Bruce weaves a seductive siren song with Golden Water Queen, treading sweet nothings into the bubbling abyss. Sinking further into the deep, The Hand fizzes and froths at the fringes of nothingness, born from the wishing of a softer and more insidious soundtrack to Denis Villeneuve’s Dune. Then finally the waves are parted with DHam’s Jam, bobbing along 8 minutes of bouncing kick and prancing percussion, pulling you with peaceful buoyancy along the dancefloor, into “the zone.”

With a continued emphasis on the importance of physical medium within dance music, the 12” is pressed with eco-friendly “Eco-Mix” reground PVC and sleeved in DIY lino printed sleeves.

"Love it! Electronic wonkiness at its finest" - Richard Norris (The Grid)

TEA, CAKES AND THE (WO)MAN MACHINE

Curtain Twitcher could only have emerged from Sheffield.
A female electronic duo whose corrupted downtempo post Balearic chug pulses and wobbles, throbs and twitches - full of fat noises and bolshy Moogery.
It's human and appealingly analogue. More Delia Derbyshire's Radiophonic Workshop than DAF, More Tangerine Dream than Depeche Mode. Not your average bloketronica.

Frankly this music doesn't behave itself in any way you might expect. Plugged in post rave pop can be far too orderly. Music should be messy. Even on occasion revealing a tune your mum could hum.

"Leap The Dips" emerged from machine jamming with a creative freedom that only comes from friendship. That friendship is a musical one but it's also real and genuine: "We’ll talk about pretty much owt if you provide the tea and cakes".

A hiatus is nothing but the reconsideration of fundamental values and interests.

Simple Times is back with “A Thin Line Between Dreams & Nightmares” EP, an emotional deep dive into the world of Progressive Trance, House & Electro. Aiming to follow the principles of stereo and raw, uncompressed music, this EP offers a fresh take on vintage music and the early culture of raves, dancing, and dance music.

The word "amateur" originates from the Latin word "amator," meaning "lover" or "admirer". This Latin term is derived from "amare," which means "to love". The French adopted "amateur" from Latin, and the English then borrowed it from French, initially retaining the sense of someone who loves or is devoted to something. Over time, the English usage of "amateur" also developed a meaning related to a lack of professional skill or experience. How did a word derived from love become a slur? Is love really so defenseless? They say love conquers all, but in reality isn’t love quite ridiculous? It has no intention, no motive, no agenda. How could it possibly prevail? It can’t be bought or sold, or so they say.Its mere existence can't be proven or even measured. What an impossible thing. Trying and failing, time and time again, no wonder cynicism always seems to win. I see “amateurism” as a delighted, even foolish, protest. Protest against everything. Of what’s expected of someone, or expected of someone to desire or strive for. To be elite, to be expert, to be professional, to be a master, to excel and succeed. Where’s the joy in that? I just want to have fun. I want to want. I want to love. And keep doing it, forever. I want to have fun, even when it’s tiring and sometimes even heaven is boring as hell. I want to be bad. I want to do my own thing. “I vant to be alone”. I want to be someone so dedicated to their passion that it starts to seem like there’s something wrong with them. All the way. We can take it all the way, and never get it back. ” - Molly Nilsson Amateur is the 12th studio album by Molly Nilsson. Deep in the teeth of a career that threatens to tip into something resembling a “legacy,” Molly Nilsson celebrates with an album recorded instinctively, quickly and bursting with so many moments of emotional brilliance and clarity it may be her greatest yet. Hers has been a career spent reaching out, perennially powerful in her earnestness, a warrior ridiculously defenceless and armed with a glittering sincerity. Shearing herself of the machinations of the music industry, recording at home, writing direct to the heart. Amateur is a jubilee for losers. A treatise in 13 songs, Amateur states clearly that we should live our life with eternal curiosity, offers us an open hand of comradeship out of the rat race. The songs on the album are both some of the most personal of Nilsson’s career and the most anthemic. First single How Much Is The World asks us to re-evaluate value in the face of a Neo-liberal system squeezing the life out of our loves. Pulsing opener Die Cry Lie satirises the commercialisation of emotion in the form of a shout-along diss-track. With a pounding rhythm track held down by gorgeous chord changes, heartbreaker Valhalla carries the torch for the main themes of the album: never growing up, making mistakes with kindness, moving on. When the drums crash in on the line “It’s going to get better now, you’ll see, going to be much better off without me” there is a world of feeling swirling about in the vocal delivery. One reading of the track might be that it’s a break up song but the subtext is classic Molly Nilsson: by living truthfully, making mistakes, we’re active agents against the myriad oppressions of the world. All The Way takes the theme for a run into the eternal sunset. It’s a manifesto for living fully. “Take it all the way, and never get it back” - it’s the process that’s the important point. The journey not the destination. Big Life, follows on like a part 2: An ode not only to Molly Nilsson’s career of endless gigs, endless connections with people, it’s a massive ode for following your dreams, doing it yourself. Closer The Bitter End is a powerful anthem for friendship, another definition of love infused in Nilsson’s work, A beautifully poignant ode to comradeship til the end, it seems to be the songwriter approaching aging, approaching life’s inevitability with the same vigour and earnestness, the same love of life she enjoyed at the onset of her career. There are moments on Amateur shrouded in reverb, slightly out of focus, forcing the listener to step deeper into the Mollyverse.. Nilsson’s open-armed beseeching to the world permeates every beat, every chord. These are songs exploding with life: the chunky, aggressive bassline on the punker Get A Life can’t hide its massive, catchy chorus. The sweeping Swedish Nightmare might be a tongue-in-cheek self-reference, but at its heart it’s a song about the duality of living life large, what is a dream, what is a nightmare? Molly Nilsson says you can’t have one without the other, and why would you want to? Here’s to making mistakes.

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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.

Downwards present Alexander Tucker in metamorphosis from psych folk to techgnostic bard, aided by notable guests – Justin K Broadrick, Regis, Phew, Karl D’Silva, JJOWDY, and Elvin Brandhi – in a quest for disordered convention and new thrills. One up to Tucker’s outings for Alter and The Tapeworm, and spiritual successor to his »Nonexistant« trio on Downwards, »Clear Vortex Chamber« is an enigmatic take on the brownfield edgelands where the eldritch intersects electronic heck. Decades of work spread between hardcore punk, psych rock, folk, and drone — including work with Stephen O’Malley (Ginnungap) and Neil Campbell (Astral Social Club, ESP Kinetic) — feed forward into this album’s unsteady machine rhythms and cranky junkyard atonalities, where Tucker panel-beats aspects of his previous sound with a newfound industrial thrust and cyber-punky lust that suits him dead well.

A crafty example of how to mutate without losing sight of yourself, the album’s eight parts feel like a cyborg patching itself into modernity. On opener »Udug« Tucker’s signature falsetto peals from a A Scanner Darkly-style scramble suit of stereo-strobing electronics, setting a melodramatic, neo-gothic tension that riddles the album thru the knotted, fractured industrial dancehall bullishness of »Mallets« with Yeah You’s feral gob Elvin Brandhi, via a pair of standout »Fedbck« parts with Tucker’s personal idol, Justin K Broadrick (Godflesh, Jesu, and the rest), featuring the Brum deity’s claw-handed riffs and howl on the first, and smeared with Karl D’Silva’s brass in its noctilucent second part.

Regis also proves a staunch foil for the album’s most robust, club-ready cut »Zona«, hammered out from buzzing metallic drums and monotone bass drones, and pitting his severed vox against Tucker’s own androgynous harmonies to recall aspects of The Ephemeron Loop via British Murder Boys, whilst scene legend, Can and Ryuichi Sakamoto spar Phew (aka Aunt Sally) ideally tempers the flow in a relatively soothing »Sansu«, sharing more cyber-romantic, recombinant sentiments with the channelling of Robert Wyatt gone Funk Bruxaria on »Folded«.

In between the folds of ceremony and commonality lies a perennial spring of musical expression.

A statement along the time continuum, or a testament to the resilient resourcefulness embedded in that truth, forms the philosophical approach of this album – the first outing of Dídac.
Studying an extensive archive of instruments, artifacts, and field recordings at the Musée d’ethnographie de Genève—a space steeped in folkloric gesture – Dídac encountered a cosmos of liturgical music and folk song. Anchored in reverance for tradition and transformation alike, this album navigates the old-world Mediterranean lore through a post-modern ambient lens, threading drone, gentle rhythm, electroacoustic textures and the crude tactility of archival material into one woven tapestry.

Under the guidance of Dr. Madeleine Leclair, Dídac was invited to work within one of the world’s most extensive ethno- musicological archives—L’AIMP. In the saturated basements and tape-lined backrooms of the museum, he submerged himself in the sounds of ritual and rural life: wax cylinders from the Eastern Mediterranean, tapes of liturgical hymn, the worn edges of communal song.
In a makeshift studio on the fourth floor of the museum, he sifted through the hours of material he collected, gradually discovering that the archive was no static source – It did not dictate; rather, it served as a companion—offering not answers, but questions. Not a beaten track, but a cluster of sonic clues and riddles. Samples do appear occasionally, tenderly interwoven into the dialogue of the songs. In Dídac’s self-titled debut, the past is not worn as ornament or kitsch; it is listened to and responded to. The museum, its archives, and the visit to Geneva became a foundational culisse of sorts, igniting a myriad of rough cuts and improvisational outtakes.
Dídac, or Diego Ocejo Muñoz, was born in Madrid in 1994 to a family of both Catalan and Castilian origin.

Brought up in a religious household, the influence of the Catholic Church innately shaped the social fabric, schooling and daily life. This lingering dominance led the adolescent Diego into a path of rejection of everything sacramental, promptly resorting to subversion in the shape of grafitti, skateboarding and underground music. Only later in life, after a rigorous venture as an acid and electro producer, the Church re-emerged before him in new light, invoking a deep fascination for its mysticism, iconography and choral tradition.

Spain in general and Catalonia in particular, has long served as a crossroads of the eastern–western Mediterranean continuum, with many of its cultures sharing aspects of way of life and ceremony. At the MEG, Diego found himself puzzled with this realization, resulting in a sonic amalgamation that reaches farther away from the rugged mountains of Catalonia than you might perceive at first encounter.

The deeply embedded memory of rite and public ceremony, religious hymn and landscape—sieved through the undercurrent of personal re-emergence, forms the emotional topography of this album. The record does not trace this landscape; it inhabits it. Its repetitive mysticism and ambient, wide-eyed gaze could possibly evoke (perhaps redundant) comparisons to artists such as Dimitris Petsetakis, or Popol Vuh’s late 70’s cinema scores.
The delicate lines between the sacred and the secular – between memory and re-invention – serve as a cipher to understanding this album in its entirety. Titles like Malpàs Mines or Pantocrator’s Portal Outro nudge toward a folkloric and devotional bedrock—places where labor and spirituality coexist, where names preserve both dust and veneration.

Nevertheless, this is far from mere nostalgia. It is a reclamation — singing alongside the spirits of the past, nurturing what still hums beneath the soil. It is an intimate reflection on tradition, rebellion, adolescence, ceremony and fantasy – a pastoral contemplation on what once was and what is to be.

Zonate presents its fifth release, The Roots EP, uniting four tracks from three exciting new voices in the scene. The A1 comes from Guzman with Final Point - a grooving electro cut that builds patiently before unleashing a roaring drop in the second half. Bassy Bee follows with Will Not Hurt You - dark and evolving, driven by growling low-ends and self- recorded vocals. The flip side is all Gaston Cabrera. On B1, Persiguiendo Pesadillas is propelled by a defining arp that touches into prog-trance territory. Closing with B2, A La Luz De Las Velas, Cabrera returns to his South American–infused sound - hypnotic, driving techno / prog.

Following the success of Highly Refined Pirates' forward-thinking guitar gymnastics and Menos El Oso's groundbreaking glitch rock, Seattle's premier pop revisionists Minus The Bear dug into some of rock music's most ostentatious years for inspiration for their 2007 album, Planet of Ice. The title alone conjures images of Yes's Relayer album art, and the influence of the elder statesmen's symphonic scope can be felt throughout Planet of Ice's lush and intricate arrangements. You can also hear the band channel the ominous instrumental interplay of Lamb-era Genesis on "Dr. L'Ling", the deceptively savvy musicianship and pristine production of Steely Dan on "White Mystery", and the tightrope walk between ethereal space and pre-metal riffage of Pink Floyd's "Echoes" on "Lotus". Not that Minus The Bear completely abandoned their earlier style_elements of Menos El Oso's sample-driven technique can be heard on the lead single "Knights". But the heart of the song ultimately belongs to the haunting Fripp-esque guitar lines spliced between verses. After being out of print on record since 2010, Suicide Squeeze is proud to reintroduce Planet of Ice's creative marriage of classic motifs and modern musical wizardry with a vinyl remaster courtesy of Bernie Grundman.

The Dead 60s seminal self-titled album gets a timely Deluxe edition reissue on Vinyl for its 20th Anniversary, on Deltasonic Records



“Back in the day, punk and dub weren’t just sharing space—they were smashing into each other headfirst. Late '70s Britain was a pressure cooker, and for kids like me, growing up between Brixton’s bass bins and the chaos of King’s Road, that collision was everything. Jamaican sound system culture met punk’s raw spirit in a haze of smoke, sweat, and feedback. It wasn’t about genre—it was about energy. Identity. Defiance. so when The Dead 60s came along, post-Britpop and post-bullshit, it felt like someone had dusted off the blueprint and run it through a battered old tape echo. These weren’t just lads with good taste—they understood the assignment. They took the DNA of two rebel cultures and mutated it into something that could stand tall in the 21st century. Dub-soaked, punk-fuelled, dripping with that Liverpool attitude. I remember first hearing them and thinking—yeah, here we go again. Not in a retro way, but in a real way. Guitars that cut like sirens in the night. Basslines fat and warm, straight out the Channel One playbook. Lyrics that painted the grey corners of Britain like CCTV poetry. It was the sound of youth under pressure. The sound of not fitting in—and not wanting to.

Their debut album dropped in 2005, and it hit like a flare in the dark. “Riot Radio” was a pirate broadcast from the concrete frontlines. “Control This” swaggered with menace and reverb. It was like someone opened a time capsule from the punky-reggae party and rewired it for a new generation.

Now, with this 20th anniversary vinyl reissue—complete with the full dub companion produced by Central Nervous System—we get to hear the bones and blood of it all. The dub versions pull the tracks apart and let the ghosts speak. Reverb, delay, space—it’s not just production, it’s meditation. Revolution slowed down to a heartbeat. It’s music that makes you move and think. What they’ve done here is more than remix a record—they’ve revealed its soul. That’s what dub does when it’s done right. And The Dead 60s, they got that. They weren’t tourists in the culture—they were students of it, shaped by it, and ultimately, contributors to the legacy. Liverpool’s long had a love affair with Jamaican music—you can hear it in the streets if you’re really listening. The Dead 60s tapped into that lineage, but they brought their own thing to the table. Punk's fire. Dub’s depth. Ska’s bounce. All filtered through a Northern lens and blasted out like protest graffiti. This 20th anniversary reissue ain’t about nostalgia. It’s a reminder. A celebration. A call to arms. Music like this doesn’t belong in a museum—it belongs on a system, shaking walls and waking minds. Crate diggers, completists, young punks, old heads—this one's for all of you.

So put it on and turn it up. Let the punk edge sharpen your thoughts, and the dub shake your bones ‘cos this isn’t just a reissue - it’s resistance on wax.....”

‘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. 

Peace and love in late 60s America did not come without parallel feelings of fear and confusion about the social situation – specifically about Vietnam. “Safe In My Garden” is the latest Ace compilation in an acclaimed series compiled by Bob Stanley – it’s a companion piece to the much-praised “State Of The Union (The American Dream In Crisis 1967 – 1973)” Ace CDCHD 1533/XXQLP2 057 2018).

The music on “Safe In My Garden” is harmony-laden, beautifully produced soft rock. Sunshine pop, even - a melodic, innovative style of American music that grew in the mid-60s out of the folk and surf scenes, exemplified by the Beach Boys and the Mamas and Papas. You will hear orchestral arrangements, and soft boy-girl vocals. But it wasn’t made in isolation from what was going on in the outside world. There are clouds and minor chords, plenty of melancholy in those harmonies.

“Safe In My Garden” includes songs of escape (Mark Eric’s ‘Move With The Dawn’, the Groop’s ‘A Famous Myth’), loss (the Eighth Day’s ‘How Can I Stop Loving You’, the New Colony Six’s ‘Prairie Grey’), dreamscapes (Tommy James and the Shondells’ ‘She’, Nancy Priddy’s ‘Christina’s World’), rebirth (Smokey and his Sister’s ‘Creators Of Rain’), a simpler world (the Free Design’s ‘My Brother Woody’) and a philosophically sounder future (Chad & Jeremy’s ‘The Ark’, Best of Friends’ ‘Summer Sound’).

It contains some surprisingly dark messages paired with beautiful melodies, as well as songs of hope. Thousands of young musicians in cities, suburbs and small towns across the States from the mid to late 60s spent their mornings hiding from the mailman, dreading the draft. This is the Sound of Young America in the late 60s, keeping its fingers crossed.

After so long it becomes harder to say new things about older things you now just do. Some things you've become. Some things you simply (never simply) are. The thing becomes a slippery notion. The self slides along with it. After this long, the story is whatever are the songs. A Self-portrait at two decades. Here are 11 new ones, from the current constellation, and a future still to come. The cement is still wet on that one. From the forest near where I now live you can hear a chorus of different birds in voice at once, competing but each defined, in defence of a territory or to attract a mate. There's an app that tells you so. I wonder, too, what that app doesn't reveal, if their nature need not share those same purposes. This is simply (never simply) how it exists. If we can't speak to the mysteries of these strategies, they at least persist, regardless of who picks up the frequency. Singing to itself, and there will always be these kinds of songs. Indies only Blue Vinyl! 1.Ulrika Spacek - 'Interesting Corners' 2. Empty Country - 'D3SP4IR' 3. The Reds, Pinks & Purples - 'New Market Space (Down the Stairs Ver.) 4. Cindy - 'The Thousand First' 5. April Magazine - 'U Bop' 6. Index For Working Musik - 'Going to Heaven On the End of A String' 7. Midding - 'Do As You Would' 8. Luft - 'My Third Eye' 9. Hospital - '25 Jade Place' 10. William Doyle - 'The Sun Ain't Doing It For Me Lately' 11. Daily Toll - 'Begin Again'