Suche:novelist

Gudu Records is proud to present remixes of Special Request and Novelist’s grime-meets-techno Summer anthem ‘Sliver’ - by two of club music’s modern-day heavyweights in KETTAMA and Tim Reaper.

In Special Request’s words: “I chose Tim Reaper and KETTAMA because they are both 100% top-table practitioners of machine funk. They both delivered the goods in completely different ways and illuminate new paths with this song. Both mixes have been causing havoc in our sets and I can’t wait for people to hear them.”

Both remixes are out now on all platforms, with a limited 12” release available to pre-order now. It continues a stand-out 2023 for Peggy Gou’s record label, which has already seen releases from Special Request & Novelist, Mogwaa, Matisa, Hiver, Matrefakt and DMX Krew, as well as the inaugural entry in Gudu & Friends - a new annual compilation series which introduced Salamanda, Closet Yi, Lady Blacktronika and more to the roster.

Gudu Records is proud to welcome Special Request - aka Paul Woolford - for his first release for the label, a collaboration with constantly innovating London MC Novelist.

Pairing Novelist’s unmistakable cadence and flow with classic grime square-waves and booty house-esque drums, ‘Sliver’ has been a highlight of both Special Request and label boss Peggy Gou’s recent sets, climaxing in a tempo change designed to turn the dancefloor inside out. As potent in intimate dark rooms as it is festival main stages, you’ll be hearing this one all Summer and beyond.

London-based producer IZCO is set to release his latest single, “Guiding Star (feat. Reek0)”, blending soulful nostalgia with the raw energy of the capital’s underground sound.

Drawing from influences that span UK dance music, hip hop, and soul, IZCO’s music captures both the energy of the dancefloor and the emotion of lived experience. Over the years, IZCO has become a key figure in London’s cross-genre underground scene, collaborating with artists like Reek0, Greentea Peng, Sam Wise, Liam Bailey, and Novelist, and performing at iconic venues and festivals across the UK and Europe.

His previous releases, including tracks like soulboy - IZCO Remix, Beauty Inside, and OBiNRin - IZCO Remix, showcase his knack for crafting warm, sample-rich productions that balance classic influences with a distinctly modern edge. Whether behind the decks or in the studio, IZCO continues to push boundaries, creating music that feels timeless, authentic, and deeply rooted in community.

“Guiding Star” is no different. It pairs warm, vintage soul textures with the sharp percussion and bass-driven pulse that have defined IZCO’s sound across his discography. Featuring long-time collaborator Reek0, the single bridges eras and styles; a homage to the past while firmly rooted in the energy of today’s London.

Speaking on this release, IZCO says:
“Guiding Star. That classic shit, Combining the soulful sample with the London grit, real London track. Inspired by a mixture of 70s soul, US hip hop and UK grime.

Made this track without thinking much, the sample spoke for itself.
Reek0’s vocal was from one of the first sessions we ever did years ago, and it had never been released but it sounded perfect on this track. A taste of nostalgia, this track reminds me of good memories and friendships. Simple but meaningful. And an honour to use such a beautiful sample”

Later this year, fans will be able to own an exclusive 7-inch vinyl edition of Guiding Star, featuring both the original and instrumental versions - a collector’s piece for crate diggers and fans alike. Out on the 5th December.

With “Guiding Star (feat. Reek0)”, IZCO continues to carve out his place as one of the most versatile and soulful producers in UK production, grounding every beat in authenticity, emotion, and connection

REPRESS ON SILVER VINYL . COMES WITH 24”x24” POSTER + DOWNLOAD CARD + GATEFOLD JACKET.


On The Beths’ album Expert In A Dying Field, Elizabeth Stokes’ songwriting positions her somewhere between being a novelist and a documentarian. The songs collected here are autobiographical, but they’re also character sketches of relationships – platonic, familial, romantic – and more importantly, their aftermaths. The shapes and ghosts left in absences. The question that hangs in the air: what do you do with how intimately versed you’ve become in a person, once they’re gone from your life?

The third LP from the New Zealand quartet houses 12 jewels of tight, guitar-heavy songs that worm their way into your head, an incandescent collision of power-pop and skuzz. With Expert, The Beths wanted to make an album meant to be experienced live, for both the listeners and themselves. They wanted it to be fun -- to hear, to play -- in spite of the prickling anxiety throughout the lyrics, the fear of change and struggle to cope.

Most of Expert was recorded at guitarist Jonathan Pearce’s studio on Karangahape Road in Tāmaki Makaurau, Aotearoa (Auckland, New Zealand) -- and sometimes in the building's cavernous stairwell at 1am -- toward the end of 2021, until they were interrupted by a four-month national lockdown. They traded notes remotely for months, songwriting from afar and fleshing out the arrangements alone, the first time they’d written together in such a way. The following February, The Beths left the country for the first time in more than two years to tour across the US, and simultaneously finish mixing the album on the road. That latter half felt more collaborative, with everyone on-hand to trade notes in real time, until it all culminated in a chaotic three-day studio mad-dash in Los Angeles. There, Expert finally became the record they were hearing in their heads.

Expert is an extension of the same skuzzy palette the band has built across their catalog, pop hooks embedded in incisive indie rock. The album’s title track “Expert In A Dying Field” introduces the thesis for the record: “How does it feel to be an expert in a dying field? How do you know it’s over when you can’t let go?” Stokes asks. “Love is learned over time ‘til you’re an expert in a dying field.”

The rest is a capsule of The Beths’ most electrifying and exciting output, a sonic spectrum: “Your Side” is a forlorn and sincere love song, emotive; while “Silence is Golden,” with its propulsive drum line and stop-start staccato of a guitar line winding up and down, is one of the band’s sharpest and most driving. “When You Know You Know” skews a bit groovier, pure pop and a natural addition to the band’s live set. “Knees Deep” was written last minute, but yields one of the best guitar lines on Expert. There’s a certain chaos across the 12 tracks, the palpable joy of playing music with long-time friends colliding with the raw nerves of pain.

Stokes strings it all together through her singular songwriting lens, earnest and self-effacing, zeroing in on the granules of doubt and how they snowball. Did I do the wrong thing? Or did you? And are we still good people at the end of it? She isn’t interested in villains, but instead interested in just telling the story. That insecurity and thoughtfulness, translated into universality and understanding, has been the guiding light of The Beths’ output since 2016. In the face of pain, there’s no dwelling on internal anguish - instead, through The Beths’ music, our shortcomings are met with acceptance. And Expert In A Dying Field is the most tactile that tenderness has been.

East London producer and DJ IZCO announces his debut solo studio album ‘POWERSCROFT’, set for release on 1st May via Brownswood Recordings. The album’s first single, ‘Strike a Pose’ featuring the vocals of Camille Munn offers an early glimpse into the project. To celebrate the release, he will go on a run of UK dates from March to May, culminating at London’s Jazz Cafe.
Named after the road where he grew up, ‘POWERSCROFT’ marks a defining new chapter for an artist who has spent the past decade shaping the sound of UK dance music. Drawing from jungle, broken beat, grime, garage, soul and dub, the album channels the energy of the dancefloor while remaining deeply rooted in memory, instinct and identity. It captures what it feels like to be inside IZCO’s world, where thoughts, memories and influences collide.

Hailing from East London, IZCO is a producer and DJ spearheading a new generation that is bringing soul back to the dancefloor. Shaped by the rich musical heritage of his hometown, he has developed a sound that feels familiar yet forward-looking, diverse yet distinctly his own. That sound has taken him across the globe, from New York to Tokyo, alongside standout sets at We Out Here, Outlook and Glastonbury.

IZCO began his journey making grime beats for local rappers including Capo Lee, Novelist and Reek0, before becoming a key figure in the UK’s evolving garage and dance music landscape. In 2018, he launched his long-running Rinse FM show and released his debut EP Tek 5, earning early underground acclaim. His production credits include PinkPantheress’ breakout track ‘Passion’, created alongside Jkarri, as well as collaborations and remixes for artists such as Katy B and Greentea Peng.
Beyond his solo work, IZCO is a label head, promoter and co-founder of the Brighter Days Family, a collective built on community, craft and cooperation. With ‘POWERSCROFT’, he steps fully into the spotlight, presenting his most personal and fully realised body of work to date. “This album is about channeling my true musical personality and character,” he says. “I’m marking a new chapter by paying tribute to my foundations.”

2025 Repress

“We created a holiday inside our heads.”

A Deeper Life, Chaos In The CBD’s debut album over 10 years in the making, is nostalgic for the duo’s nature-filled youth, exploring the magical coastline and lush rainforest of New Zealand. “The title refers to our childhood, which was idyllic,” says Ben. “It was just the sun, the sand, the sea, waterfalls, birds and fish…” The album’s blissful setting is also depicted on the album cover: a painting, by a childhood friend, of the beach where they grew up in Devonport.

A Deeper Life whirls that profound love of house music and wide-ranging influences – from Brazilian to R&B, ambient to Italo to deep house and downtempo pop – into a serene, cohesive whole with their signature finesse. The result is an international dance sound that feels unmistakably like Chaos and ebbs and flows from the beach party to the club to the afterhours.

On the album they’ve teamed up with a number of US legends and married their vocals with the UK underground: Josh Milan of house pioneers Blaze brings his soulful vocals to the bossa nova beats of ‘I Wanna Tell Somebody,’ a future jazz-dance anthem. Unheralded Chicago house hero and Larry Heard collaborator Lee Pearson Jr. goes deep over ‘More Time’s broken beat flex. And on ‘Maintaining My Peace’, the brothers have matched veteran house singer-songwriter Stephanie Cooke with UK grime MC Novelist, on a slinky LDN interpretation of LA hip-hop and g-funk.

Also featured on the album are New Zealand jazz artist Nathan Haines, frequent collaborator Isaac Asaeili and more.

Drummer-composer Tom Skinner announces Kaleidoscopic Visions, his second solo album, out 26th September 2025 via Brownswood Recordings and International Anthem

Kaleidoscopic Visions unfolds across two distinct sonic landscapes. Side A presents entirely instrumental compositions performed by Skinner's live Bishara band—bassist Tom Herbert, cellist Kareem Dayes, and Robert Stillman and Chelsea Carmichael on various woodwinds and reeds—with electric guitar on two tracks courtesy of Portishead's Adrian Utley. A drummer-composer bringing his wealth of experience to bear on the role of bandleader, Skinner composed primarily on guitar, embracing the freedom that came with writing on his secondary instrument.
These compositions include "Auster," dedicated to late novelist Paul Auster, and "Margaret Anne," which honours Skinner's mother Anne Shasby, a former classical concert pianist prodigy who abandoned her own promising career in the face of systemic misogyny, only to impart on her son what Skinner calls "the gift of music."

Skinner’s musical world opens further on Side B, where a collection of poised vocal collaborations stretch out from jazz and improvisation towards a more dream-like, soulful sound. The centerpiece is "The Maxim," a ten-minute collaboration with Grammy Award-winning Meshell Ndegeocello, a dubby, spacious meditation on life and death, delivered with a free-spirited grace. For Skinner, working with Ndegeocello—whom he first saw at Glastonbury as a teenager in 1994—represents a full-circle moment, indicative of the indirect paths and inspirational detours that have shaped his life.
The album goes on to feature South Carolina-based singer Contour (Khari Lucas) who appears on the low-lit soul ballad ‘Logue’, and closes with ‘See How They Run’, featuring London keyboardist-vocalist Yaffra (Jonathan Geyevu). It is the album’s most overtly lyrical track, an articulate exposition of jazz-inflected spoken word that speaks not only to the genre-fluid nature of the music but the breadth of Skinner’s palette.
This should come as no surprise. On Kaleidoscopic Visions, one of London’s most vital musical figures gives us a sparkling glimpse of the multi-coloured lens through which his unique sound is now refracting.

Drummer-composer Tom Skinner announces Kaleidoscopic Visions, his second solo album, out 26th September 2025 via Brownswood Recordings and International Anthem

Kaleidoscopic Visions unfolds across two distinct sonic landscapes. Side A presents entirely instrumental compositions performed by Skinner's live Bishara band—bassist Tom Herbert, cellist Kareem Dayes, and Robert Stillman and Chelsea Carmichael on various woodwinds and reeds—with electric guitar on two tracks courtesy of Portishead's Adrian Utley. A drummer-composer bringing his wealth of experience to bear on the role of bandleader, Skinner composed primarily on guitar, embracing the freedom that came with writing on his secondary instrument.
These compositions include "Auster," dedicated to late novelist Paul Auster, and "Margaret Anne," which honours Skinner's mother Anne Shasby, a former classical concert pianist prodigy who abandoned her own promising career in the face of systemic misogyny, only to impart on her son what Skinner calls "the gift of music."

Skinner’s musical world opens further on Side B, where a collection of poised vocal collaborations stretch out from jazz and improvisation towards a more dream-like, soulful sound. The centerpiece is "The Maxim," a ten-minute collaboration with Grammy Award-winning Meshell Ndegeocello, a dubby, spacious meditation on life and death, delivered with a free-spirited grace. For Skinner, working with Ndegeocello—whom he first saw at Glastonbury as a teenager in 1994—represents a full-circle moment, indicative of the indirect paths and inspirational detours that have shaped his life.
The album goes on to feature South Carolina-based singer Contour (Khari Lucas) who appears on the low-lit soul ballad ‘Logue’, and closes with ‘See How They Run’, featuring London keyboardist-vocalist Yaffra (Jonathan Geyevu). It is the album’s most overtly lyrical track, an articulate exposition of jazz-inflected spoken word that speaks not only to the genre-fluid nature of the music but the breadth of Skinner’s palette.
This should come as no surprise. On Kaleidoscopic Visions, one of London’s most vital musical figures gives us a sparkling glimpse of the multi-coloured lens through which his unique sound is now refracting.

How enduring is the signature song from Harry Chapin’s Verities & Balderdash? So timeless that it became the subject of a 2025 documentary in which artists from multiple generations weigh in on its impact on their lives and craft. “Cat’s in the Cradle” doubtlessly remains the main event on the singer-songwriter’s 1974 album. The legendary opening track also serves as a guidepost for the bold personal and social material that follows — as well as the gorgeous folk-rock arrangements that underpin the New York native’s most commercially successful work.

Sourced from the original master tapes, pressed at Fidelity Record Pressing, housed in a Stoughton jacket complete with a four-page insert, and strictly limited to 3,000 numbered copies, Mobile Fidelity’s 180g 33RPM LP of Verities & Balderdash presents Chapin’s fourth full-length in audiophile quality for the first time on vinyl. Captured during a golden era for sonics and production, the Top 5 effort features remarkable tonal balance, instrumental separation, and organic naturalism. Those valued aspects come into supreme focus on this reissue, which plays with dead-quiet surfaces and a low noise floor.

The newfound clarity, openness, and imaging underscore the lasting appeal of Chapin’s tender deliveries, soulful timbre, and careful phrasing. Every word comes across with incredible realism, while his underrated guitar playing occupies its own distinctive space. Also notable: The extension of the tasteful string accents; airiness of the backing vocals; depth and shape of the spare bass lines; and width and depth of the soundstaging. When on “Six String Orchestra” Chapin calls out names of instruments, they appear like magic, the band performing feet from you. Chapin has never sounded so lifelike on record.

Certified double platinum, Verities & Balderdash resonated with the times and public. “Cat’s in the Cradle” reached No. 1 on the chart on its way to being inducted into the Grammy Hall of Fame. The romantic ballad “I Wanna Learn a Love Song” flirted with the Top 40 and wrapped listeners in the equivalent of a cozy blanket. The record’s other single, the mini-epic “What Made America Famous?,” helped establish Chapin as one of the country’s most incisive and insightful commentators.

Verities & Balderdash teems with situational devices and topical matters. Chapin observes everything from the polarization of the nation to changes in moral standards and cultural priorities. He investigates pressing themes without ever turning preachy or elevating himself above the matters at hand. On “Halfway to Heaven,” whose coda races to the finish and ranks as the most urgent moment on the record, Chapin inhabits the mind of his frustrated protagonist akin to an eagle-eyed novelist.

Conveying emotions that range from melancholic to carefree, Chapin is as much of a singer as a storyteller. He assumes the voice of multiple characters within a single narrative. During the quirky “30,000 Pounds of Bananas,” a tale based on a delivery-truck accident in 1965, Chapin alters his delivery, pronunciation, and diction to become an old man reflecting on the mishap and mess. The tempo, too, adjusts to match the speed of the vehicle Chapin describes.

Adorned with timely laugh tracks to reinforce the bittersweet humor, the stripped-down “Six String Orchestra” takes everything up another notch, with Chapin intentionally missing guitar notes or playing a broken passage to illustrate the failures of the hopeful protagonist who doesn’t have what’s required to make it as an artist.

Chapin, of course, did not have any such problem. The lynchpin of a career cut short by a tragic traffic incident, Verities & Balderdash is Exhibit A of the savvy craft, feeling, and perspective he lent to American music.

2025 Repress

Searchlight Moonbeam is the new narrative compilation from Time Is Away (Jack Rollo and Elaine Tierney) whose eponymous monthly NTS Radio shows, tinctured fusions of fugitive sounds and reverie-inducing archival speech, have won them an ardent following. It follows from the London-based duo’s Ballads, a remarkable driftwerk released on A Colourful Storm in 2022.


Searchlight Moonbeam is an autumnal dreamscape, intimate and vespertine, pensive and irresolute. An imagined community where differences drop off and resonances emerge – between Maher Shalal Hash Baz affiliates Kasumi Trio, Taiwanese score composer Chen Ming Chang whose ‘Rainwater’ (written for Hou Hsiao-Hsien’s 1986 film Dust In The Wind) is exquisitely heartbroken, and the plangent improvisations of self-taught French pianist Delphine Dora.


Revelations are frequent: the bedsit isolationism of Bo Harwood and John Cassavetes’ ‘No One Around to Hear It’ (from The Killing of a Chinese Bookie); the narked minimalism of Klang (an early 2000s band formed by ex-Elastica guitarist and featuring prize-winning experimental novelist Isabel Waidner on bass); the etude-grooves and echoic wobble of below-the-radar French avant-gardists Omertà ; the beautiful, plaintively dubby ‘Is It You?’ by Slapp Happy; a psych-tinged reimagining of PiL’s ‘Poptones’ by Simon Fisher Turner (one half of Deux Filles, and here, recording for él as The King of Luxembourg) that's as perverse as the cover of Throbbing Gristle’s 20 Jazz Funk Greats.


Searchlight Moonbeam is the musical analog of an Italo Calvino novel or a medieval fable. Associative, intuitive, borderless. Emotional and mysterious. Endowed with the tactility of Braille. A private language that is both unknowable and understood. It is a record of the seasons, for the seasons.

2023 marks the tenth anniversary of Time Is Away’s first broadcast. Featuring an evocative essay by writer Jeremy Atherton Lin and disarming cover art by Penny Davenport, Searchlight Moonbeam showcases Rollo and Tierney’s still-unrivalled talent for gloaming melodies, disques du crépuscule, ensorcelled storytelling.

Home of The Good Groove Records would like to introduce Psalmist Shonda L. English, otherwise known as “The Gospel Diva”.
Every once in a while, an exceptional and incredible talent impacts the music industry and leaves an indelible impression. Shonda is one of those rapidly expanding outstanding musical virtuosos who has done just that in the gospel arena. Home of The Good Groove Records are more than jubilant to be able to announce that the label’s first release will also be Shonda’s first 7-inch vinyl single release.
Her incredible vocal capability transcends and mesmerizes gospel and soul music lovers alike!
Originally a native of Boston, Massachusetts, at a young age Shonda relocated to South Carolina where she grew up and currently lives today. Shonda began singing on the children’s choir at the tender age of three and began playing the piano by ear at the age of five. Not only is Shonda gifted with phenomenal vocal capabilities, Shonda is also a multi-faceted gospel recording artist, song writer, organist, percussionist, choral conductor, composer, radio personality and novelist. She also plays the congas, tambourine, xylophone and the flute. In addition, she is an extraordinary “actress” who has appeared for her 4th time on stage and her 3rd time in a leading role. Her extraordinary gifts and talents continue to revolutionize the gospel music industry.
Taken from Shonda’s digital album release, Travelin’ (from 2023), the 7-inch vinyl release A-side, 'There Wouldn’t Be a Me', is a delightful mid-pacer with a riveting vocal and an instantly catchy melody that grabs your attention and is guaranteed to get any dancefloor flowing. Flip the 7-inch over, and get ready to feel the shivers up your spine as Shonda’s beautiful vocal (and harmonies) create a wonderful soulful gospel groove in ‘Feels Good’ that will elevate the emotions. ….You will not be disappointed.
Shonda’s Motto: “If you never take a leap of faith, you’ll never know how high you can fly.”

Tony Bontana, the Birmingham rapper, producer and multi-instrumentalist, releases his 35th album My Name, which is also his first to receive a proper vinyl pressing. The album follows an impressive 2025 in which he performed with Nourished By Time, Mark William Lewis, YHWH Nailgun, TAGABOW and 454.

His earlier 2025 album The Beautiful Malaise made The Wire’s annual top 50, and he appeared as the sole feature on Nourished By Time’s album The Passionate Ones, where Marcus praised his “freewheeling spirit.”

Tony’s production work has appeared on records by Billy Woods, Cities Aviv and Novelist, with upcoming collaborations planned with Blackhaine and DJ Python. The single Battered Chips has received airplay from NTS, Esk on Rinse and Huw Stephens on 6 Music.

If anyone is counting this is the 35th album by Birmingham rapper, producer, multi-instrumentalist Tony Bontana. A pioneer of his own ‘Splayed’ style of production characterised by heavily manipulated samples, non-linear rhythms and introspective lyricism. My Name is a significant landmark for Tony being the first album to receive a proper vinyl pressing. It caps an impressive 2025 which has seen Tony play live with acts such as Nourished By Time, Mark William Lewis, YHWH Nailgun, TAGABOW and 454. His previous album “The Beautiful Malaise” (one of four he released in 2025) made The Wire’s annual top 50. He appeared as the sole feature on the acclaimed Nourished By Time album The Passionate Ones on the track Jojo with NBT’s Marcus praising the rapper as having the “freewheeling spirit of a street baller out on the playground” . His productions have already appeared on records by Billy Woods, Cities Aviv and Novelist with further collabs to come with the likes of Blackhaine and DJ Python. The standout single Battered Chips has received airplay from NTS, Esk on Rinse, New Music Fix and Huw Stephens on 6.

A blend of Metal Indus and Bass Music, VIOLENCE is an ambitious and atypical project produced by Niveau Zero, one of the pioneers of French Bass Music. Composed of Fabio Meschini (Guitar / Ex: As They Burn) , Morgan Sansous (Drums), John Kazadi (Lead Vocal) and Frédéric Garcia aka Niveau Zero ( Machines and Vocal ).

OPUS I', their 1st album (2021), composed in collaboration with choice guests such as Billy Graziadei (Biohazard, Powerflo), Bastien Hennaut (HORSKH) and Code: Pandorum... has frankly succeeded in arousing the enthusiasm of both Metal and Bass Music audiences.

On stage, the band has not been outdone, offering a crescendo of increasingly furious performances over the last year alongside bands like Biohazard, Mass Hysteria, Ten 56, Horskh, Shaargot, Novelist, Revnoir, King Yosef.

My Days of 58 is the eighth Bill Callahan album, his first since 2022. The twelve tunes here open uncanny depths of expression as Bill continues to blaze one of the most original songwriting-and-performance trails out there. Applying the living, breathing energies of his concerts to this album production, he sharpens his slice-of-life portraiture to cut deeper, releasing a stream of singalong consciousness: poetic, cinematic, novelistic, comedic - and above all - musical.

My Days of 58 is the eighth Bill Callahan album, his first since 2022. The twelve tunes here open uncanny depths of expression as Bill continues to blaze one of the most original songwriting-and-performance trails out there. Applying the living, breathing energies of his concerts to this album production, he sharpens his slice-of-life portraiture to cut deeper, releasing a stream of singalong consciousness: poetic, cinematic, novelistic, comedic - and above all - musical.

BBE Music’s acclaimed J Jazz Masterclass returns with its 20th release, a super rare private press from one of the more laudable female jazz figures of Japan, saxophonist and composer Sachi Hayasaka, together with her band, Stir Up! Released in 1988 on the private label Mobys, Free Fight was Hayasaka’s debut album and announced the arrival of an essential and primal force onto the Japanese jazz scene. Part free jazz, part post-bop, and part heavy groove, Free Fight is one of the most varied yet engaging albums BBE Music has reissued in the J Jazz Masterclass Series, showcasing Hayasaka’s inventive and muscular playing as well as her highly original and surprising compositional powers. Given the album’s eclectic yet cohesive sound, it’s no surprise that it originally found a home at Mobys, the label established by esteemed jazz critic and promoter Teruto Soejima. Mobys only issued a handful of albums from some of the leading free and open players including J Jazz Masterclass alumnus, pianist Aki Takase, as well as free jazz guitar icon Masayuki Takayanagi, and free jazz figureheads Itaru Oki and the great Masahiko Satoh. Born in Tokyo in 1960, Hayasaka took lessons from saxophonist and recording artist Toki Hidefumi and fully immersed herself in the jazz life, working part-time at various jazz kissas including Peter-Cat, a kissa managed by novelist Haruki Murakami. She has performed regularly across Japan at venues like the famous Pit Inn and formed a strong alliance with the classic Tokyo jazz kissa Paper Moon, which continues to this day. Heavily influenced by players such as Roland Kirk, David Murray and Ornette Coleman, Hayasaka has played with free jazz legend Yosuke Yamashita and performed around the world (as well as up Mount Fuji!). In the late 1980s she moved to New York for several years and worked with notable musicians including drummer Pheeroan akLaff and pianist Cliff Korman. She has recorded a number of albums to her name for Japanese jazz labels such as Three Blind Mice and Kitty as well as leading European imprints such as Enja.

‘Aurelia’ is another atmospheric masterpiece by Boozoo Bajou.

Deep atmospheric soundscapes have always been a part of Boozoo Bajou during their 27 years as producers. Each of their previous five albums had those almost beatless melancholic beauties as part of the musical presentation.

Since this is a key element, Peter Heider and Florian Seyberth aka Boozoo Bajou decided to dedicate a new six-track album, called ‘Aurelia’, to this genre of music which might be called Ambient but is rather a free flow through their musical minds.

Based on a warm analogue mix, there are various instruments giving guidance to this journey, enriching the overall quality of this new output from Boozoo Bajou.

Cassette
Earth Sounds Now is a collective made up of community activist and musician Stefan Christoff,
drummer, composer, scholar, and bandleader Asher Gamedze, music producer Nicolás Jaar, pianist
and composer Büsra Kayikçi, and novelist, poet, and sound performer Kaie Kellough.

Over 13 months, they met online to share sounds, readings, writings, and drawings, resulting in
Convergence—a project reflecting their collaborative process. Each member submitted different
works, including paintings, poetry, field recordings, and musical experiments, taking turns responding
to each other's contributions.

Member Stefan Christoff highlights the importance of listening in these sessions:
"Sometimes we would listen all together, so there was also silence on the online call as we all listened
on headphones to the sounds from our respective places. I am underlining listening here, which the
world needs much more of."

These submissions were organized into a sound library and finally mixed into record format by Jaar,
capturing the essence of their exchanges across global soundscapes.

2xLP+Book. Black & White Splatter vinyl. Between 1975-77, Chicago's southside nightclubs were experiencing dark times. The after-hours routine may have been on the up, but the sound of urban blues was on its way down, getting funkier, heavier, picking up a Zeppelin echo from the British rock scene that had raided its larder. Thankfully, lightening came by way of a lanky white guy skulking from club to club with a camera and strobe light. Chicago photographer Michael Abramson hit Perv's House, Pepper's Hideout, The High Chaparral, The Patio Lounge, and The Showcase Lounge nightly, not to capture the artists on stage but instead popping off a half-dozen rolls every night exclusively on the seldom photographed crowd. Light: On The South Side gathers more than 100 beautiful black and white Abramson images, as Numero shines its own light on yet another dark corner of the musical past. The 132-page hardback book features not just these photos, but an extended and wildly colorful ephemera section, plus an essay by British novelist and Numero fan Nick Hornby. Housed in a gorgeous slipcase with the 12X12 monograph is the 2LP set Pepper's Jukebox, a 17-track compilation of Chicago blues in transition, as heard from both the stage and the Wurlitzer.

2025 Repress

Modus Operandi, an EP by Impérieux, is the latest release from Sum Over Histories, the label from Frankey & Sandrino that champions introspective sounds for reflective times.

There’s an air of mystery surrounding Impérieux. The Bulgarian-born artist prefers to avoid the spotlight and work diligently on music instead, building a sound influenced by the underground scene in Sofia and his Turkish roots.

Impérieux began production of Modus Operandi in Bulgaria, and continued throughout his move to Berlin last year. The artist says it was a melancholic time; dealing with culture shock and a new language was challenging even without a pandemic. This EP is a reflection of that. Dark and brooding, simplistic and surreal, Impérieux took inspiration from the fantasy worlds of novelist Murukami and named the tracks after his work.

2025 Repress, New Colour variant, Apricot colour vinyl. Led by vocalist Amy Boone (The Damnations, TX), Cory Gray on keyboards, & horns, Tucker Jackson (The Minus 5) on pedal steel, as well as former Richmond Fontaine members: Sean Oldham, Freddie Trujillo, and Willy Vlautin. Vlautin, the acclaimed novelist and songwriter for Richmond Fontaine, has penned all ten tracks. Recorded in Portland, Oregon and produced by John Morgan Askew, The Imperial shows us again why songwriter, Willy Vlautin became so enamored with Amy Boone"s voice. The combination of Vlautin"s songs and Boone"s voice creates a late night country soul world full of hopefulness and heartbreak.

For All The World, the black watch's twenty-fifth (and first double) album is a darkly poppy, brightly moody, many-splendored take on a number of the great themes: Death and Sex, Memory and Lament and Hope and Love. And it is, arguably, this heralded Los Angeles band's most sonically ambitious and moving record yet, since front man/novelist/ex-English professor John Andrew Fredrick formed the group in 1988 in Santa Barbara after he'd seen a London-by-way-of-Canada band called The Lucy Show play to twelve-or-so people in his hometown.

Having recorded 2024's Weird Rooms with producer Misha Bullock and Fredrick's son Chandler at Bullock's studio in Austin, TX, the TBW founder was keen to repeat the experience with, he says, more straightforward, classic psych/jangle/shoegaze songs. The result, though artistically satisfying, spurred a yen in John to write more songs as a sort of reaction against the batch he'd carried with him from LA to Texas. "We had such a productive time recording ‘Weird Rooms’ that I wanted to repeat the experience... without repeating the experience. And once it was over and I left Misha to do what he pleased with respect to mixing and overdubbing, all I could think was 'I need to write another album now.'" So Fredrick brought longstanding producer/engineer and TBW-associate Scott Campbell (Stevie Nicks, Acetone) along this time to help out with engineering and good cheer.

Fredrick, who has been "accused" of being "astonishingly prolific," learned that bandmate Andy Creighton had recently become unemployed, seized the opportunity to have yet another multi-instrumentalist flesh out the new songs he quickly wrote after he came back from Austin. “Achilles Past,” the first single, is in fact a song that John wrote when the production team thought the album was done—and the front man avers that it’s often the case that a very strong song comes to him, as it were, in the eleventh hour. The same could be said for “Listen You Wait”—another number that came late to the Austin sessions.

Nevertheless, the recording of the first half of For All The World has Creighton's signature indelibly stamped on it - especially on such tracks as “Fainting” and “Surely You Rally”- just as the latter half highlights Bullock's formidable talents. "They're both not just brilliant musicians and they understand my aesthetic and bring their own sensibilities to bear on my stuff. Our respective tastes meet in, you guessed it, The Beatles' realm - the great shadow that hangs over all I do, at least."

"There's A Place," the final song on side two, serves in fact as a distinct homage that's been a long time coming for a band that included a cover of "It's All Too Much" as a bonus track and that release a quite punkish, uptempo version of "Eleanor Rigby" on a 7".

- Ltd. Col. LP: (Blue Vinyl)

- Ltd. Col. LP: (Blue Vinyl)

Limited first run of 7” Vinyls

The two tracks feature a different sound to most of James’ other solo releases, with production employing a more sample-based approach, rather than the electronic-based productions James is usually heard on.

James Massiah is a well known, and loved poet & musician from South London. He is known for his poetry works over the past ten years, prolifically writing and performing poetry both in London and around the world.

In addition to this he is a member of Dean Blunt’s enigmatic group ‘Babyfather’ (under the name ‘DJ Escrow’) with which James has performed around the world, and been part of many recordings/ albums, such as the seminal ‘"BBF" Hosted By DJ Escrow’, which featured credits from Mica Levi & Arca.

‘Holland Park’ features production by London-based artist/ producer Shimz343 & ‘Hot Winter’ features production by aloisius, founder of life is beautiful records (a london-based gesamtkunstwerk/ label & collective that regularly curate shows at venues such as Cafe OTO & Ormside Projects).

James Massiah was special guest at the first ever show life is beautiful hosted, in early 2023 at Ormside Projects (which was the start of a busy two years of live shows and releases by life is beautiful records, who’ve since hosted shows including: DJ Spanish Fly (UK Debut), Novelist, Lord Tusk, Lolina, Slauson Malone 1, John Glacier, Pretty V & Jadasea.

Kneading dough is tricky – you should know how it’s supposed to feel. If you try too hard you could make it worse. It’s a beautiful practice – creation with a gentle touch, to work at something so it can be left alone. “If it’s too drawn out it’s awful. It’s easy to give too much.” Dance in the mirror. Contemplate your veiny hands. Who do they remind you of?

You begin by mixing flour and water. “What happens when your people die? Why’d they move the rock to the other side of Ulster Park?” Eliza Niemi asks two seemingly unrelated questions in a rising melody with guitar accompaniment, like fingers playing spider up to the nape of your neck. Gentle pressure. Strands of gluten form to bind the mix. A new question lingers in the binding. When she admits “but I don’t know how to tell if I’m feeling it or not,” that question surfaces through the text. It is reiterated throughout the album. When I’m working with dough I think the same thing to myself.

On Progress Bakery, her second album as a solo artist, Eliza knows to leave some questions alone – to let juxtaposition and tension be the proof. It doesn’t have to be hard. The feelings and revelations they provoke rise in the heat. The smell is sweet. Crispy on the outside and soft all the way through. She playfully slip-slides through words and sounds and images, delighting in surprise, skimming ideas like stones cast across clear water, touching down briefly with uncommon grace.

The question provoked between those opening lines resurfaces in the strands between songs – “Do U FM” is fully formed and beautifully layered, while “Novelist Sad Face” is a short, acapella rendering of gentle curiosity. What is holding these ideas together? Some songs demand more, seem to carry a whole load – eventually the skipping stone will halt to sink and resume its idle duty – while others drift in and out of focus, the way thoughts and dreams become interwoven before the mind is sunk into true sleep.

Music and words don’t always have to interact. Where she decides to keep them apart gives a new contour to where and how she puts them together. The kind of thing you’re supposed to take for granted with songs and their singers comes alive in Eliza’s hands – the little miracle of mixing, kneading, stretching, and stopping.

So often on Progress Bakery, Eliza teases out truth and meaning by asking questions. “Do I wanna be crying?” “Do you want me good or do you want me bad?” “Do I need an eye test?” “I’m writing songs in my head while you’re going over stuff with me — is that cruel??” In “Pocky” Eliza ends with a question that feels to me like the actual biography, succinct and revealing:

I don’t wanna be made to see
I just wanna ask “what’s that?”

Grace that ought to be rare, but in its care and precision is offered humbly, with great generosity, and without announcing itself. Eliza’s simple, miraculous music is given further form and shape by a group of collaborators – invaluable guest musicians Jeremy Ray, Evan Cartwright, Steven McPhail, Kenny Boothby, Ed Squires, Carolina Chauffe, Dorothea Paas, Louie Short, and Avalon Tassonyi. Together with Louie Short, who recorded, mixed, and produced the album along with Jeremy Ray and Lukas Cheung, Eliza has cultivated a richness in sound and texture that prods and provokes the ticklish ear. Barely audible guitar tinkering, a brief lo-fi field recording of trumpets, the harmonic clicking of a looped synthesizer, a flourish of reeds, a child’s conversation, each uncanny sound perfectly placed, rippling out under a soft breeze.

Lay in bed alone at night and ask aloud to the stillness,

“What were you doing at the Albuquerque Airport?
What were you doing there??”

And hear your question answered by a dream of swelling, undulating cellos. Try to grasp at the melody and structure. It’s not an answer (if there could be one), but it moves deeper, closer to the weird layer of fleeting moments and disconnected images, barely perceptible at its core. Wait for the dream reel to click into place.

Eliza took me for a ride in Nicole (her beloved Dodge Grand Caravan) and told me she’d been thinking of the album as an embodiment of transition – and I think every transition, known or unknown, carries the weight of new meaning, skittering off the surface tension of life as you know it, creating ripples, sometimes bouncing off and sometimes breaking through. There is a trick you can use to tell if a dough is glutinous enough. You’re supposed to stretch it out as thin as you can without breaking it and hold it up to the light. If you can see through, even if it renders the world murky and uncertain, you should leave it alone. I love this trick. It’s one that Eliza seems to know intuitively: work gently and ask questions and don’t always expect answers, and when you can, take a glimpse at something new, and then leave.

Kneading dough is tricky – you should know how it’s supposed to feel. If you try too hard you could make it worse. It’s a beautiful practice – creation with a gentle touch, to work at something so it can be left alone. “If it’s too drawn out it’s awful. It’s easy to give too much.” Dance in the mirror. Contemplate your veiny hands. Who do they remind you of?

You begin by mixing flour and water. “What happens when your people die? Why’d they move the rock to the other side of Ulster Park?” Eliza Niemi asks two seemingly unrelated questions in a rising melody with guitar accompaniment, like fingers playing spider up to the nape of your neck. Gentle pressure. Strands of gluten form to bind the mix. A new question lingers in the binding. When she admits “but I don’t know how to tell if I’m feeling it or not,” that question surfaces through the text. It is reiterated throughout the album. When I’m working with dough I think the same thing to myself.

On Progress Bakery, her second album as a solo artist, Eliza knows to leave some questions alone – to let juxtaposition and tension be the proof. It doesn’t have to be hard. The feelings and revelations they provoke rise in the heat. The smell is sweet. Crispy on the outside and soft all the way through. She playfully slip-slides through words and sounds and images, delighting in surprise, skimming ideas like stones cast across clear water, touching down briefly with uncommon grace.

The question provoked between those opening lines resurfaces in the strands between songs – “Do U FM” is fully formed and beautifully layered, while “Novelist Sad Face” is a short, acapella rendering of gentle curiosity. What is holding these ideas together? Some songs demand more, seem to carry a whole load – eventually the skipping stone will halt to sink and resume its idle duty – while others drift in and out of focus, the way thoughts and dreams become interwoven before the mind is sunk into true sleep.

Music and words don’t always have to interact. Where she decides to keep them apart gives a new contour to where and how she puts them together. The kind of thing you’re supposed to take for granted with songs and their singers comes alive in Eliza’s hands – the little miracle of mixing, kneading, stretching, and stopping.

So often on Progress Bakery, Eliza teases out truth and meaning by asking questions. “Do I wanna be crying?” “Do you want me good or do you want me bad?” “Do I need an eye test?” “I’m writing songs in my head while you’re going over stuff with me — is that cruel??” In “Pocky” Eliza ends with a question that feels to me like the actual biography, succinct and revealing:

I don’t wanna be made to see
I just wanna ask “what’s that?”

Grace that ought to be rare, but in its care and precision is offered humbly, with great generosity, and without announcing itself. Eliza’s simple, miraculous music is given further form and shape by a group of collaborators – invaluable guest musicians Jeremy Ray, Evan Cartwright, Steven McPhail, Kenny Boothby, Ed Squires, Carolina Chauffe, Dorothea Paas, Louie Short, and Avalon Tassonyi. Together with Louie Short, who recorded, mixed, and produced the album along with Jeremy Ray and Lukas Cheung, Eliza has cultivated a richness in sound and texture that prods and provokes the ticklish ear. Barely audible guitar tinkering, a brief lo-fi field recording of trumpets, the harmonic clicking of a looped synthesizer, a flourish of reeds, a child’s conversation, each uncanny sound perfectly placed, rippling out under a soft breeze.

Lay in bed alone at night and ask aloud to the stillness,

“What were you doing at the Albuquerque Airport?
What were you doing there??”

And hear your question answered by a dream of swelling, undulating cellos. Try to grasp at the melody and structure. It’s not an answer (if there could be one), but it moves deeper, closer to the weird layer of fleeting moments and disconnected images, barely perceptible at its core. Wait for the dream reel to click into place.

Eliza took me for a ride in Nicole (her beloved Dodge Grand Caravan) and told me she’d been thinking of the album as an embodiment of transition – and I think every transition, known or unknown, carries the weight of new meaning, skittering off the surface tension of life as you know it, creating ripples, sometimes bouncing off and sometimes breaking through. There is a trick you can use to tell if a dough is glutinous enough. You’re supposed to stretch it out as thin as you can without breaking it and hold it up to the light. If you can see through, even if it renders the world murky and uncertain, you should leave it alone. I love this trick. It’s one that Eliza seems to know intuitively: work gently and ask questions and don’t always expect answers, and when you can, take a glimpse at something new, and then leave.

Kneading dough is tricky – you should know how it’s supposed to feel. If you try too hard you could make it worse. It’s a beautiful practice – creation with a gentle touch, to work at something so it can be left alone. “If it’s too drawn out it’s awful. It’s easy to give too much.” Dance in the mirror. Contemplate your veiny hands. Who do they remind you of?

You begin by mixing flour and water. “What happens when your people die? Why’d they move the rock to the other side of Ulster Park?” Eliza Niemi asks two seemingly unrelated questions in a rising melody with guitar accompaniment, like fingers playing spider up to the nape of your neck. Gentle pressure. Strands of gluten form to bind the mix. A new question lingers in the binding. When she admits “but I don’t know how to tell if I’m feeling it or not,” that question surfaces through the text. It is reiterated throughout the album. When I’m working with dough I think the same thing to myself.

On Progress Bakery, her second album as a solo artist, Eliza knows to leave some questions alone – to let juxtaposition and tension be the proof. It doesn’t have to be hard. The feelings and revelations they provoke rise in the heat. The smell is sweet. Crispy on the outside and soft all the way through. She playfully slip-slides through words and sounds and images, delighting in surprise, skimming ideas like stones cast across clear water, touching down briefly with uncommon grace.

The question provoked between those opening lines resurfaces in the strands between songs – “Do U FM” is fully formed and beautifully layered, while “Novelist Sad Face” is a short, acapella rendering of gentle curiosity. What is holding these ideas together? Some songs demand more, seem to carry a whole load – eventually the skipping stone will halt to sink and resume its idle duty – while others drift in and out of focus, the way thoughts and dreams become interwoven before the mind is sunk into true sleep.

Music and words don’t always have to interact. Where she decides to keep them apart gives a new contour to where and how she puts them together. The kind of thing you’re supposed to take for granted with songs and their singers comes alive in Eliza’s hands – the little miracle of mixing, kneading, stretching, and stopping.

So often on Progress Bakery, Eliza teases out truth and meaning by asking questions. “Do I wanna be crying?” “Do you want me good or do you want me bad?” “Do I need an eye test?” “I’m writing songs in my head while you’re going over stuff with me — is that cruel??” In “Pocky” Eliza ends with a question that feels to me like the actual biography, succinct and revealing:

I don’t wanna be made to see
I just wanna ask “what’s that?”

Grace that ought to be rare, but in its care and precision is offered humbly, with great generosity, and without announcing itself. Eliza’s simple, miraculous music is given further form and shape by a group of collaborators – invaluable guest musicians Jeremy Ray, Evan Cartwright, Steven McPhail, Kenny Boothby, Ed Squires, Carolina Chauffe, Dorothea Paas, Louie Short, and Avalon Tassonyi. Together with Louie Short, who recorded, mixed, and produced the album along with Jeremy Ray and Lukas Cheung, Eliza has cultivated a richness in sound and texture that prods and provokes the ticklish ear. Barely audible guitar tinkering, a brief lo-fi field recording of trumpets, the harmonic clicking of a looped synthesizer, a flourish of reeds, a child’s conversation, each uncanny sound perfectly placed, rippling out under a soft breeze.

Lay in bed alone at night and ask aloud to the stillness,

“What were you doing at the Albuquerque Airport?
What were you doing there??”

And hear your question answered by a dream of swelling, undulating cellos. Try to grasp at the melody and structure. It’s not an answer (if there could be one), but it moves deeper, closer to the weird layer of fleeting moments and disconnected images, barely perceptible at its core. Wait for the dream reel to click into place.

Eliza took me for a ride in Nicole (her beloved Dodge Grand Caravan) and told me she’d been thinking of the album as an embodiment of transition – and I think every transition, known or unknown, carries the weight of new meaning, skittering off the surface tension of life as you know it, creating ripples, sometimes bouncing off and sometimes breaking through. There is a trick you can use to tell if a dough is glutinous enough. You’re supposed to stretch it out as thin as you can without breaking it and hold it up to the light. If you can see through, even if it renders the world murky and uncertain, you should leave it alone. I love this trick. It’s one that Eliza seems to know intuitively: work gently and ask questions and don’t always expect answers, and when you can, take a glimpse at something new, and then leave.

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

Poet, novelist, musician and academic, Anthony Joseph teams up with legendary UK producer Dave Okumu for forthcoming album, ‘Rowing Up River To Get Our Names Back’

Dave Okumu, known perhaps best as frontman for The Invisible, though digging deeper into his production credits, huge names emerge such as; Grace Jones, Amy Winehouse, Jesse Ware, Rosie Lowe and Eska. On this album, the magic and alchemy of Dave’s production style showcase subtle sonics and deep layering resulting in a contemporary sound to carry Anthony’s afrofuturistic metrical meanings.

Anthony and Dave first came across each other when working with Shabaka Hutchings during Covid broadcasts, and then after Anthony performed some poems on Dave’s 2023 album ‘I Came From Love’, the seeds of collaboration were sown.

With a little more psychedelia, a little more experimentation, Dave’s eclectic vision focuses on the actual sounds on these pieces. Anthony stated that “The best producers guide you, not push you” now add to that the fact that both these humans were born on the same day, a concoction of laid back attitudes in people with strong purpose, some real magic can happen, naturally.

Early writing sessions for this record took place in 2022, around Mount Blanc in France. Anthony was away touring with long-time collaborator, Jason Yarde. Ideas were a little thin and they found themselves somewhat repeating previous work resulting in Anthony rethinking things a little, and so entered Dave Okumu.

LP opener ‘Satellite’ is a fine example of how this new partnership pans out. New musicians have been enlisted; Dan See (Drums), Aviram Barath (Synths), Nick Ramm on Fender Rhodes and Byron Wallen (Trumpet). Add to that the mighty vocal power house of Eska and we have a whole new dimension of soul and depth, to carry Anthony’s statements. “You build a wall, we go under, you build it higher, we go higher, like a satellite” .

On the album's second single, ‘Tony’ - there’s a nod to all drummers and creators of African rhythms, from the point of view of Afrobeat legend Tony Allen. Highlighting this is drummer’s drummer Richard Spaven as Dave’s choice of skin beater. He successfully reminds us that Tony was someone who understood the real power of rhythm and how it is used to unite people.

As well as the new musicians on this LP, Dave Okumu played all the guitars and used the studio as his tool. On ‘A Juba for Janet’ - a poem to Joseph’s mother, and a track so bass heavy that it feels as though it could sit in a deep dubstep set in Plastic People days, - Anthony’s voice reaches straight down your ear canals next to dark drums, huge synths and delayed saxophone stabs from Colin Webster. Slightly more introspective verses on ‘An Afrofuturist Poem’ see Dave’s beats show off the real future sound of this record, kalimba, moog bass and guitars all played by the man himself.

Mellower and deeper moments are also present, Anthony’s cryptic yet informative storytelling is at its absolute best on ‘Churches Of Sound (The Benetiz-Rojo)’ - Caribbean and Windrush history reeled off alongside a linear musical timeline of Black music in the diaspora.

A reminder that this body of work is first of 2 volumes, ‘Rowing Up River To Get Our Names Back’ is not a follow up to Anthony’s previous album, but more a development of his 2006 novel, ‘The African Origins of UFOs’ a book where experimental elements of afro-futurism, metafiction, science fiction, surrealism, mythology are rewritten in Anthony’s innovative language. Look out for Volume 2 also coming in 2025.

Anthony Joseph releases, ‘Rowing Up River To Get Our Names Back’ (Vol. 1) via Heavenly Sweetness 7th February 2025 and he will play live at Ronnie Scotts in London on 14th March 2025, with Dave Okumu as a special guest.

CREDITS:

Vocals - Anthony Joseph

Additional vocals, vocal arrangements - Eska Mtungwazi

Producer - Guitars, Bass, Moog, Synthesisers, Programming, Percussion - Dave Okumu

Drums - Dan See

Drums on ‘Tony’ - Richard Spaven

Synthesiser - Aviram Barath

Fender Rhodes, Synthesisers, Nick Ramm

Trumpet - Byron Wallen

Saxophones - Colin Webster

Trombones - James Wade Sired

Macht Euch bereit, Elwood Stray’s Debütalbum auf einem ganz neuen Level zu erleben: “Gone With The Flow“ ist auf einer brandneuen Vinyl-Pressung erhältlich, jetzt zusätzlich mit den Tracks ihrer “Triality”-EP. Jede Platte ist ein handgefertigtes Kunstwerk in rot-grauem Splatter, was jedes Exemplar zu einem echten Unikat macht.

Limitierte Auflage, immer einzigartig - Sichert Euch ein Stück Elwood Stray-Musikgeschichte!

Die aus Essen-stammende Band liefert eine energiegeladene Mischung aus Post-Hardcore, Rock und Metalcore. Wenn man ihren Sound beschreiben sollte, würde man es wahrscheinlich mit den Worten schlicht, unaufgesetzt und natürlich tun. Kein technischer Schnickschnack, nur das Wesentliche: Handgemachte Musik.

In ihrer kurzen Zeit in der Branche haben Elwood Stray bereits die Bühne mit zahlreichen internationalen Künstlern geteilt, darunter Bad Omens, The Plot In You, The Ghost Inside, Landmvrks und The Word Alive, und haben nennenswerte Festivalauftritte beim Summerbreeze, Full Force und Takedown hinter sich. Nach ihrer gemeinsamen Europa Tour mit Novelists Anfang 2024, sind Elwood Stray bald mit dem US-Metacorel-Powerhouse Stick To Your Guns unterwegs und unterstützen diese auf ihrer Record Release Tour durch Europa.

Joe Henry’s 13th studio album “Invisible Hour”, recorded over four days in July 2013 at Henry's personal studio in California, tells a captivating story about resilience and the redemptive power of love.This record features several of his closest musical companions, including The Milk Carton Kids as well as Lisa Hannigan, who co-wrote the title track along with Henry and best-selling novelist Colum McCann. Now available on 180g black double vinyl for the first time, the 2024 reissue includes three special bonus tracks: Two alternate demo versions of “Slide” and “The Glorious Dead”, originally released on Henry’s 2017 record “Thrum”, as well as the previously unheard demo “News From The Great Wide World”.

. For Fans Of: The Weather Station, Weyes Blood, Adrianne Lenker, Phoebe Bridgers, Joan Shelley, Lana Del Rey, Cass McCombs, Angel Olsen & Neil Young. Camelot, the legendary seat of King Arthur’s court in Early Middle Ages Britain, was probably not a real place. A corruption of the name of a real Romano-Briton city, the word “Camelot” accumulated symbolic, mythic resonances over centuries, until achieving its present usage as a near-synonym of “utopia.” In the mid-20th century alone, Camelot inspired an explosion of representations and appropriations, among them the violent, affectless Arthurian court of Robert Bresson’s 1974 film Lancelot du Lac and the absurdist iteration of Monty Python’s 1975 Holy Grail, both of which feature armoured knights erupting into fountains of blood; the mystical Welsh world of novelist John Cowper Powys’s profoundly weird 1951 novel Porius, with its Roman cults, wizards and witches, and wanton giants; and the nationalist nostalgia of President John F. Kennedy’s White House. Unsurprisingly there are fewer Camelots in more recent memory. Camelot, Canadian songwriter Jennifer Castle’s extraordinary, moving 2024 chronicle of the artist in early middle age, charts a realer, more rooted, and more metaphorical place than the fabled Camelot of the Early Middle Ages (or its myriad depictions), but it too is a space more psychic than physical. In Castle’s Camelot, the fantastic interpenetrates the mundane, and the Grail, if there is one, distills everyday experience into art and art into faith, subliming terrestrial concerns into sublime celestial prayers to Mother Nature, and to the unfolding process of perfecting imperfection in one’s own nature. Co-produced by Jennifer and longtime collaborator Jeff McMurrich, her seventh record is at once her most monumental and unguarded to date, demonstrating a mastery of rendering her verse and melodies alike with crisply poignant economy. For all their pointedly plainspoken lyrical detail and exhilarating full-band musical flourishes, these songs sound inevitable, eternal as morning devotions. “Back in Camelot,” she sings on the lilting, vulnerable title track, “I really learned a lot / circles in the crops and / sky-high geometry.” The album opens with a candid admission of sleeping “in the unfinished basement,” an embarrassing joke that comes true. But the dreamer is redeemed by dreaming, setting sail in her airborne bed above “sirens and desert deities.” If she questions her own agency whether she is “wishing stones were standing” or just “pissing in the wind” it does not diminish the ineffable existential jolt of such signs and wonders. This abiding tension between belief and doubt, magic and pragmatism, self and other, sacred and profane, and even, arguably, paganism and monotheism, suffuses these ten songs, which limn an interior landscape shot through with sunstriped shadows of “multi-felt dimensions” both mystical and quotidian. The epic scale and transport of “Camelot,” with its swooning strings, gives way dramatically to “Some Friends,” an acoustic-guitar-and-vocals meditation in miniature on Janus-faced friends and the lunar and solar temperatures of their promises—“bright and beaming verses” versus hot curses which recalls her minimalist last album, 2020’s achingly intimate Monarch Season. (In a symmetrical sequencing gesture, the penultimate track, the incantatory “Earthsong,” bookends the central six with a similarly spare solo performance and coiled chord progression, this time an ambiguous appeal to … a wounded lover? a wounded saint? our wounded planet?). Those whom “Trust” accuses of treacherous oaths spit through “gilded and golden tooth” cynics, critics, hypocrites, gurus, scientists, doctors, lovers, government, the so-called entertainment industry sow uncertainty that can infect the artist, as in “Louis”: “What’s that dance / and can it be done? What’s that song / and can it be sung?” Answering affirmatively are “Lucky #8,” an irrepressible ode to dancing as a bulwark against the “tidal pools of pain” and the “theory of collapse,” and “Full Moon in Leo,” which finds the narrator dancing around the house with a broom, wearing nothing but her underwear and “big hair.” But the central question remains: who can we trust, and at what cost faith, in art or angels or otherwise? Castle’s confidence in her collaborators is the cornerstone of Camelot. Carl Didur (piano and keys), Evan Cartwright (drums and percussion), and steadfast sideman Mike Smith (bass) comprise a rhythm section of exquisite delicacy and depth. This fundamental trio anchors the airiness of regular backing vocalists Victoria Cheong and Isla Craig and frames the guitars of Castle, McMurrich, and Paul Mortimer (and on “Lucky #8,” special guest Cass McCombs). Reprising his decennial role on Castle’s beloved 2014 Pink City, Owen Pallett arranged the strings for Estonia’s FAMES Skopje Studio Orchestra. On the ravishing country-soul ballad “Blowing Kisses” Pallett’s crowning achievement here, which can be heard in its entirety in the penultimate episode of the third season of FX’s The Bear Jennifer contemplates time and presence, love and prayer and how songwriting and poetry both manifest and limit all four dimensions: “No words to fumble with / I’m not a beggar to language any longer.” Such rare moments of speechlessness “I’m so fucking honoured,” she bluntly proclaims suggest a state “only a god could come up with.” (If Camelot affirms Castle as one of the great song-poets of her generation, she is not immune to the despairing linguistic beggary that plagues all writers.) Camelot evinces a thoroughgoing faith not only in the natural world including human bodies, which can, miraculously, dance and swim and bleed and embrace and birth but also in our interpretations of and interventions in it: the “charts and diagrams” of “Lucky #8,” a daydreamt billboard on Fairfax Ave. in LA in “Full Moon in Leo,” the bloody invocations of the organ-stained “Mary Miracle,” and all manner of water worship, rivers in particular. (Notably, Jennifer has worked as a farmer and a doula.) The album ends with “Fractal Canyon”s repeated, exalted insistence that she’s “not alone here.” But where is here? The word “utopia” itself constitutes a pun, indicating in its ambiguous first syllable both the Greek “eutopia,” or “good-place” the facet most remembered today and “outopia,” or “no-place,” a negative, impossible geography of the mind. Utopia, like its metonym Camelot, is imaginary

Kenner von Richard Swift wissen, dass sein Katalog umfangreich und phantasievoll ist, vollgepackt mit ebenso vielen ausgefeilten, eiskalten Klassikern wie verrückten Ein-Take-Experimenten. Diese Kleinode kommen in allen Formen und Größen, und während das den Eingefleischten nichts ausmacht, ist der Einstieg in die Musik von Swift für den Neuling schwierig: Wo soll man anfangen? Was kommt in die engere Wahl? Wie viele Crooner? Wie viele wilde Lieder? Vor diesem Hintergrund präsentiert Secretly Canadian "4 Hits & A Miss - The Essential Richard Swift", einen bescheidenen Versuch, die siebenundvierzig Minuten und vierzehn Songs zusammenzutragen, die die Uneingeweihten einführen können. Wenn Sie Richard Swift nicht kennen, lassen Sie sich von dem unvergleichlichen Kevin Morby aufklären: "Es gibt einen alten Pfadfindermythos, von dem ich als Kind gehört habe, dass man eine Kapelle bauen kann, wenn man die richtige Person mitten in den Wald setzt, bewaffnet nur mit einem Schweizer Taschenmesser. Wenn ich an diesen Mythos zurückdenke, denke ich an Richard Swift, der, wenn man ihn mitten im Wald mit einem 10-Dollar-Radio-Shack-Mikrofon absetzte, irgendwie ein Studio bauen konnte und in diesem Studio eine Kapelle des Klangs errichtete. Tatsächlich hat er genau das in seinem eigenen National Freedom Studio mitten in den Wäldern von Oregon getan, in einer Stadt namens Cottage Grove, wo er unzählige Stunden seiner eigenen Musik und der anderer Leute aufgenommen hat. Diese Kapellen des Klangs werden - und ich habe es bereits erlebt - kommende Generationen in Ehrfurcht versetzen und inspirieren, so wie es die Steinkapellen im frühen Europa tun. Beide lassen die Menschen verblüfft zurück und fragen sich: Wie konnte etwas so Massives und Schönes mit so minimalen und archaischen Mitteln gebaut werden - und in Richards Fall so schnell? Nach ihrem Tod scheinen die meisten Künstler endgültig zu ruhen, ihre Kataloge ruhen für immer neben ihnen. Aber Richard scheint aus dem Jenseits rastlos zu sein, und die Arbeit, die er hier unten auf der Erde begonnen hat, geht weiter. Sein letztes Album, The Hex, wurde nur wenige Monate nach seinem frühen Tod im Jahr 2018 veröffentlicht, und jetzt haben wir mit 4 Hits and A Miss eine Sammlung seiner beliebtesten Songs sowie einen neuen, noch nie zuvor gehörten Track "Common Law", aufgenommen um 2012. Ob Gelegenheitsfan oder Swift-Purist, 4 Hits & A Miss ist entweder ein perfekter Startpunkt oder ein Ziel für uns eingefleischte Fans, um wieder einmal etwas Neues zu finden, das uns beeindruckt und inspiriert. Wie ein versteckter Raum in seiner bereits beeindruckenden Kapelle gibt es immer etwas Neues von unserem geliebten Freund und Helden, dem verstorbenen großen Richard Swift, zu entdecken." Viel Spaß!

Camelot, the legendary seat of King Arthur's court in Early Middle Ages Britain, was probably not a real place. A corruption of the name of a real Romano-Briton city, the word "Camelot" accumulated symbolic, mythic resonances over centuries, until achieving its present usage as a near-synonym of "utopia." In the mid-20th century alone, Camelot inspired an explosion of representations and appropriations, among them the violent, affectless Arthurian court of Robert Bresson's 1974 film Lancelot du Lac and the absurdist iteration of Monty Python's 1975 Holy Grail, both of which feature armored knights erupting into fountains of blood; the mystical Welsh world of novelist John Cowper Powys's profoundly weird 1951 novel Porius, with its Roman cults, wizards and witches, and wanton giants; and the nationalist nostalgia of President John F. Kennedy's White House. Unsurprisingly there are fewer Camelots in more recent memory. Camelot, Canadian songwriter Jennifer Castle's extraordinary, moving 2024 chronicle of the artist in early middle age, charts a realer, more rooted, and more metaphorical place than the fabled Camelot of the Early Middle Ages (or its myriad depictions), but it too is a space more psychic than physical. In Castle's Camelot, the fantastic interpenetrates the mundane, and the Grail, if there is one, distills everyday experience into art and art into faith, subliming terrestrial concerns into sublime celestial prayers to Mother Nature, and to the unfolding process of perfecting imperfection in one's own nature. Co-produced by Jennifer and longtime collaborator Jeff McMurrich, her seventh record is at once her most monumental and unguarded to date, demonstrating a mastery of rendering her verse and melodies alike with crisply poignant economy. For all their pointedly plainspoken lyrical detail and exhilarating full-band musical flourishes, these songs sound inevitable, eternal as morning devotions. "Back in Camelot," she sings on the lilting, vulnerable title track, "I really learned a lot / circles in the crops and / sky-high geometry." The album opens with a candid admission of sleeping "in the unfinished basement," an embarrassing joke that comes true. But the dreamer is redeemed by dreaming, setting sail in her airborne bed above "sirens and desert deities." If she questions her own agency_whether she is "wishing stones were standing" or just "pissing in the wind"_it does not diminish the ineffable existential jolt of such signs and wonders. This abiding tension between belief and doubt, magic and pragmatism, self and other, sacred and profane, and even, arguably, paganism and monotheism, suffuses these ten songs, which limn an interior landscape shot through with sunstriped shadows of "multi-felt dimensions" both mystical and quotidian. The epic scale and transport of "Camelot," with its swooning strings, gives way dramatically to "Some Friends," an acoustic-guitar-and-vocals meditation in miniature on Janus-faced friends and the lunar and solar temperatures of their promises_"bright and beaming verses" versus hot curses_which recalls her minimalist last album, 2020's achingly intimate Monarch Season. (In a symmetrical sequencing gesture, the penultimate track, the incantatory "Earthsong," bookends the central six with a similarly spare solo performance and coiled chord progression, this time an ambiguous appeal to _ a wounded lover? a wounded saint? our wounded planet?) Those whom "Trust" accuses of treacherous oaths spit through "gilded and golden tooth"_cynics, critics, hypocrites, gurus, scientists, doctors, lovers, government, the so-called entertainment industry_sow uncertainty that can infect the artist, as in "Louis": "What's that dance / and can it be done? What's that song / and can it be sung?" Answering affirmatively are "Lucky #8," an irrepressible ode to dancing as a bulwark against the "tidal pools of pain" and the "theory of collapse," and "Full Moon in Leo," which finds the narrator dancing around the house with a broom, wearing nothing but her underwear and "big hair." But the central question remains: who can we trust, and at what cost faith, in art or angels or otherwise? Castle's confidence in her collaborators is the cornerstone of Camelot. Carl Didur (piano and keys), Evan Cartwright (drums and percussion), and steadfast sideman Mike Smith (bass) comprise a rhythm section of exquisite delicacy and depth. This fundamental trio anchors the airiness of regular backing vocalists Victoria Cheong and Isla Craig and frames the guitars of Castle, McMurrich, and Paul Mortimer (and on "Lucky #8," special guest Cass McCombs). Reprising his decennial role on Castle's beloved 2014 Pink City, Owen Pallett arranged the strings for Estonia's FAMES Skopje Studio Orchestra. On the ravishing country-soul ballad "Blowing Kisses"_Pallett's crowning achievement here, which can be heard in its entirety in the penultimate episode of the third season of FX's The Bear_Jennifer contemplates time and presence, love and prayer_and how songwriting and poetry both manifest and limit all four dimensions: "No words to fumble with / I'm not a beggar to language any longer." Such rare moments of speechlessness_"I'm so fucking honoured," she bluntly proclaims_suggest a state "only a god could come up with." (If Camelot affirms Castle as one of the great song-poets of her generation, she is not immune to the despairing linguistic beggary that plagues all writers.) Camelot evinces a thoroughgoing faith not only in the natural world_including human bodies, which can, miraculously, dance and swim and bleed and embrace and birth_but also in our interpretations of and interventions in it: the "charts and diagrams" of "Lucky #8," a daydreamt billboard on Fairfax Ave. in LA in "Full Moon in Leo," the bloody invocations of the organ-stained "Mary Miracle," and all manner of water worship, rivers in particular. (Notably, Jennifer has worked as a farmer and a doula.) The album ends with "Fractal Canyon"'s repeated, exalted insistence that she's "not alone here." But where is here? The word "utopia" itself constitutes a pun, indicating in its ambiguous first syllable both the Greek "eutopia," or "good-place"_the facet most remembered today_and "outopia," or "no-place," a negative, impossible geography of the mind. Utopia, like its metonym Camelot, is imaginary. Or as fellow Canadian songwriter Neil Young once sang, "Everyone knows this is nowhere." "Can you see how I'd be tempted," Castle asks out of nowhere, held in the mystery, "to pretend I'm not alone and let the memory bend?"

Xylitol is the alias of Catherine Backhouse, producer and DJ under the name DJ Bunnyhausen. She was a resident DJ at Kosmische, the now dormant Krautrock club and is a fan of jungle and hardcore. She currently co-hosts the radio show Slav To The Rhythm, which focuses on vintage central and eastern European pop and electronica and she's also co-writing a book on Yugoslavian pop culture. 'Anemones' is a total project from the cover to the music. Backhouse is fascinated by early botanical illustrations of anemones and other aquatic fauna, and how the act of taxonomy reveals as much about human psychology, desire and sublimation as it does about the organic specimen as a thing in itself. Each track is a microcosm of this 'other life', an allegory for the extraordinary potential latent within bodies that the dancefloor has the power to activate. Using early jungle and garage as starting points to connect dots and open up contrasts between dance music and vintage electronics, Backhouse finds a sweet spot which, in her words "feels like something that's simultaneously still and ancient yet propulsive and ecstatic." Not afraid of letting the the hiss and flutter of the music show, 'Anemones' holds attention with ancient bubbling synths and gracefully drifting arpeggiations, occasionally brought to heel by charming melodies, all accompanied by breakbeats that explode like fireworks. 'Anemones' has a lively and unpolished aesthetic that's a kindred spirit to Nondi_'s 2023 album of smeary, water-damaged footwork, 'Flood City Trax'. 'Moebius' pits the spaced out neon chords of the track's namesake against absolutely tearing breaks, allowing time for this almost overwhelming combination to become near enough transcendental, while the bleeping melody and sad slavic chorus motif in 'Okko' feels like an artifact from an alternative future. The Drexciya meets 2-step garage of 'Dobro Jutro' creates a welcome respite at the album's midpoint before the flow builds up again to 'Daša' with its glassy sounds from a lost radiophonic workshop miniature meeting bruising kicks and snares. Meanwhile 'Iskria' has purring synth chords and 8-bit melodies evoking the cosmonaut age. The subliminal influence of the Yugo era is felt in DIY synthesis and Mitteleuropean melody and seen in song titles such as 'Jelena', 'Miha', 'Daša' (named after novelist Daša Drndič) and 'Iskria' (taken from the fictitious Balkan region in Ottessa Moshfegh's bleak fable 'Lapvona'). 'Anemones' very effectively folds experimental genres from different times and places into a very enjoyable new sound.

Crack Cloud has always been something beyond a rock band: both profound and grand, vaporous and elusive. The first iteration of Crack Cloud was formed nearly a decade ago as a proxy-rehab outlet on the fringes of Calgary. Over time, two EPs and accompanying visual pieces were produced out of the residence known as Red Mile. By 2017, several members had relocated to Vancouver, working out of harm reduction centers and low-barrier shelters. Sobriety, self-reformation and the idealism of their work further formed an ethos for Crack Cloud. It was during these years that the band produced their astounding 2020 album Pain Olympics. At once, their vision became expansive, cinematic. Now, Red Mile is a bit of a homecoming. Members have returned to Calgary. But Calgary/home has become a liminal space, a place of flux. After a decade of personal and collective growth, what does home even mean? Red Mile is, for them, something like samsara: a return and a rebirth. Red Mile's sound breathes expansive energy into the circuitous, street bound sonics of Crack Cloud's prior material. Fizzling synths intertwine with chiming pianos. Songs layer like Russian nesting dolls; one may find a Ramones chorus set within a desolate Western prog soundtrack only to watch it erupt into a joyous anthem. Real-ass guitars _ alternately lilting, scuzzy and soaring _ ring out across wide sun-bleached spaces. In 2024, the cumulative effect is (in rock instrumentation terms) naturalistic. Any whiff of embalmed nostalgia is absent. Even the close of the album - a winding, almost Jerry Garcia guitar noodle that leads us out of Red Mile - is delivered without sentimentality. Principal songwriter Zach Choy's lyrics are cutting but merciful, with a sharp self-awareness that never slides into self-satisfaction. Crack Cloud as artists are critical _ and ultimately as forgiving _ of themselves as they are the melting world around them. The songs balance an easy charm and cathartic power: affirming life without denying death. Recorded predominantly between the outskirts of Joshua Tree California, and Calgary, Alberta, this record is informed by a bittersweet mélange of old and new. The sprawling, novelistic structures of their previous albums are condensed and sharpened, while maintaining their refusal to delve into superficiality. Through playful melodies and elliptical guitar soliloquy, they deliver a final product of exceptional depth and distinctly unprecious warmth. Crack Cloud have produced a mature, vital work that interrogates the platitudes of the rock-n-roll lifestyle, but ultimately exalts its sacredness. Red Mile's de facto thesis statement "The Medium" is itself a rock song meditation: an ode to the form and its practitioners. This genre that _ typical, repeatable, corporatized as it can be _ somehow still has the power to help us live through life. We see the dusty sentiment of "I love rock and roll" exhumed, taken apart, and stitched back together. It's a song guided by faith _ if the medium helps us proclaim our love today, it's worth protecting from derision tomorrow. We live in an era where music seems to love hitting its head against the wall. Crack Cloud's Red Mile is the sound _ the feeling! _ of the bricks giving way.