Cerca:novelty

The forthcoming latest edition of the popular compilation series featuring long-lost vintage 60s-70s proto-metal and stoner rock singles, Brown Acid: The Thirteenth Trip will be available on Halloween 2021. Check out the first single "Run Run", released in 1970 by Montreal hard rockers Max is available to hear & share via Metal Injection HERE. (And, direct YouTube and Bandcamp)

The Brown Acid series is curated by L.A. label RidingEasy Records and retailer/label Permanent Records. Read interviews with the series curators via Paste Magazine HERE and LA Weekly HERE.

About The Thirteenth Trip:

Max, from Montreal, QC — originally known as Dawn, before Tony Orlando & Dawn forced a name change — kick things off with “Run Run” from their lone 1970 single. It’s a hard-hitting rocker with scale climbing crunching guitars and powerful Bonham-esque drumming. Sadly, the band didn’t last long due to poor management and various other factors, so this is the only surviving document according to guitarist Gerry Markman. And what a document it is, paired with the A-side “The Flying Dutchman.”

You might remember Ralph Williams and the Wright Brothers from their track “Never Again” on Brown Acid: The Tenth Trip. Here they make their return to the series with the A-side of their 1972 Hour Glass Records 45, which sounds like Blue Cheer mangling Roy Orbison’s “Pretty Woman” (that’s right, several years before Van Halen actually did so.) Alas, Ralph and these Wright Brothers soon disappeared from terrestrial airspace.

“Feelin’ Dead” is extremely heavy blues from this also extremely rare 1974 single by Detroit, MI’s Master Danse, which was only released as a promo 45. Think Led Zeppelin’s “Since I’ve Been Loving You” and you’re on the right track. A little dose of Hendrix acid blues and a heartfelt groove, and you’ll wonder why this single never even made it to official release. The unavoidable tell in the lyric, “help me get this damn thing out of my arm” hints at the post-Vietnam heroin epidemic as a potential clue why we never heard more from Master Danse.

Folks, Gary Del Vecchio is “Buzzin’” hard on this one, and from what sounds like an in-studio party of yelps and chatter at the start of the song, it seems that the whole band was in on the festivities. The funky blues riff, reminiscent of Led Zeppelin’s “Heartbreaker” and rollicking rhythmic changes certainly keep the buzz a rollin’.The recording is technically credited as Gary Del Vecchio with Max, though not the same band as the one that kicks off this Trip.

John Kitko’s 1973 heavy psychedelic rager “Indecision” is the only recording known to exist by the mysterious artist. The Twin Record Productions release features a different artist, Tom Poff on the B-side, which is truly a shame, considering the smoldering ashes Kitko leaves of the turntable by song’s end. It starts out more like a late 60s Acid Rock jam before leaping into a blazing double-time gallop, whipped into a frenzy by wailing, neck-pickup guitar squeals and Kitko’s barely audible howls.

Tampa, FL’s Bacchus made their Brown Acid debut way back on the very first Trip with “Carry My Load.” This 1972 B-side, “Hope” is a huge sounding swinging rocker replete with roadhouse piano bolstering the chunky riffs and confident vocals. After relocating to Southern California a few years later, the band morphed into Fortress, an 80s melodic metal act whose Hands In The Till album of Pomp Rock on Atlantic Records still draws chatter today.

Orchid’s “Go Big Red” is perhaps the most garage-y sounding offering here, with loose rhythms and straightforward stop-and-start riffing. Nonetheless, the stomping energy and fried-amp guitar tone make this one a charming skull thwack. The band’s 1973 single on American records, backed with a cover of Johnny Russell and Voni Morrison’s “Act Naturally” (popularized by Buck Owens and the Buckaroos) is their only release, so the world never did see this Orchid fully blossom.

By the title alone of Dry Ice’s “Don’t Munkey with the Funky Skunky” you know you’re in for a good time. The 1974 barnstormer seems aimed to the novelty tunes crowd, with its kooky lyrics and silly-voiced spoken catchphrase break, “peeyew, you’ll be sorry if you do.” But, the Ohio band’s maniacal drumming, crunching guitars and, of course, drug euphemistic lyrics make it a shoo-in for the Brown Acid series of erudite rock’n’roll.

Good Humore’s swaggering 1976 rocker “Detroit” is a slick and smooth paen to the Motor City. It most likely doesn’t predate “Detroit Rock City” by Kiss, also released in 1976, and it has more rock’n’roll swing, but it could fit comfortably alongside the era’s arena anthems. Not much else is known about the one-off release on P.V. Records, but songwriter Mike Moats is noted to also have been a recording engineer in later years and this well produced track sounds like a labor of love.

Outsider is Taylor’s first album of new material since 2013’s Fun On Earth A highly personal project, Outsider’s instrumentation is almost entirely performed by Taylor, with his largely restrained vocals matching the album’s contemplative ambience. But Taylor does cut loose along the way with a foray into some hard-riffing blues-rock as well as an adrenalin charged BIG surprise retread of a classic 1965 novelty song, which is exactly the fun on earth we need in these challenging times.






f 6 We're All Just Trying To Get By [feat. KT Tunstall]

"Guts finest selection from his DJ sets. Some dancefloor classics and some discoveries"

Any DJ set tells you, unconsciously or not, about its author.

Through the record choices and the way they are organized, one can feel the DJ’s state of mind and find out a bit more about the musical deposit discovered that is being shared and dug through by him or her at the moment.
The appetite for diggin’, the quest for a novelty or a forgotten rarity is what makes a DJ set a true organic living matter constantly fueled although not always, unfortunately, respected.
Time stretching. Too many DJ’s made a pact with this diabolical creature. A true digital steamroller that runs over the rhythm to fix the tempo while leaving behind an agonizing drummer whose sole crime was to have been carried away by his energy and having moved forward the BPM. At the end, everything that gave charm and life to the track, its imperfections and the peculiar fact that it makes you dance faster towards its end… all these along with all the lively movements contained within the track are reduced to nothing.

My conception of music and DJ sets is the exact opposite. Since the first volume of Straight From The Decks, my DJ sets have been redesigned, refreshed and improved. However, there was no preexisting plan, they evolved naturally following my new desires.

The famous core of my indispensable musical choices started to morph little by little into something different without losing sight of its center of gravity which remains undoubtedly afro-tropical.
No matter which track, its style and its origin, the quality of the music that is brought to my ears is always my sole and primary concern.
In this selection, you’ll find 7” vinyl records available to everyone sitting proudly next to some rarities found online and acquired through nerve-raking auctions battles. There are indeed exclusive remixes along with titles that until now were only available in their digital formats. Now for the first time they are available here in vinyl format. Obviously, if you have chosen the CD format, that precision doesn’t really matter…
Sixteen titles which have become the heart of my sets throughout this past year.
A heart which in a year will beat to a certainly different drum…
Pura Vida
Gutsto attend the next one..."

2X12" repressed !

Welcome to - Industrie & Zärtlichkeit , the raw, quirky yet emotional debut album from Moon! Although the Berlin-based duo is revered for dancefloor bangers such as - Ze power', Johannes Albert and Johannes Paluka (better known as Iron Curtis) have put much effort into making this album a true listening experience without sacrificing their roots in House Music. - Industrie & Zärtlichkeit (which translates into - Industry & Tenderness ) effortlessly achieves what is claimed in its title, namely a fusion of seemingly disparate elements: the rough and the smooth, dirty beats and soothing harmonies, bizarre sounds and comforting chords. The title track is a fine example of this perfectly-dosed blend with its detuned strings that glide over a crisp electro beat and an infectious melody which would make Kraftwerk proud. Cafe Del Landwehrkanal' is a lighthearted and kinky gem while - Light Of Virtue combines warm synth pads (Detroit is not far) with dusty drums and an acid bassline. MFB Nights' and Machine Rhythm Tomorrow' are also illustrations of the duo's undeniable savoir-faire, with the former celebrating garage classics thanks to its cheeky vocal sample and gorgeous rhodes chords while the latter plays out as a dedication to the early 90's, a time when people didn't care about genres and just dived in the novelty of electronic dance music.
But as we all know, there is a dark and secret side of the Moon, an aspect which is best expressed via the freaky organ chords of - Proto and its detuned melody. Not to mention the excellent ambient pieces - Fjordig or - The Bitter End which showcase the duo's ability to venture into uncharted territory.
All in all, Industrie & Zärtlichkeit feels like drinking fresh orange juice gently sparkled with chilli... and it concludes flawlessly with two reworks that prolong the album's laidback yet assured vibe. First off is Black Spuma (Lauer of Tuff City Kids fame and Italian disco legend Fabrizio Mammarella) who rework the title track into a hands-in-the-air boogie monster that will definitely be a festival staple this summer. Finally, Lerosa emphasizes the deeper shade of the album's spectrum with an impressive new wave rework of - Appeal .

Mort Garson’s road to cool cultural caché and the sublimity of Plantasia meant a decades’ long journey through an underworld of sophisticated, international, string-laced dreck (i.e., your great-grandparents’ record collection) to arrive at Music from Patch Cord Productions, this set of queasy-listening you now hold.

Music from Patch Cord Productions shows that Garson’s knack was to exist in both worlds, super-commercial and waaay out. He cut delirious minute-long blasts for commercials (as to whether or not they were actually ever aired remains unknown) and spacecraft-hovering études. Were there really account managers out there in the early ’70s that gave the greenlight to these commercial compositions which seemed to anticipate everyone from John Carpenter to Suicide? What were these campaigns actually for, Soylent Green? Regardless, Mort’s jingle work laid the groundwork for the future. As Robert Moog himself noted: “The jingles were important because they domesticated the sound.” Via Garson’s wizardry, the synthesizer transcended novelty to ubiquity and dominance.

Other curios and questions abound. How did Garson’s arrangement work for Arthur Prysock’s satiny body worship album This Is My Beloved transmogrify into the body-snatcher pulses of “This is My Beloved”? Are the two pieces even related? What is the IATA code for the airport of “Realizations of an Aeropolis”? What denomination is the “Cathedral of Pleasure”? If “Son of Blob” sounds like a hallucinatory melted ice cream truck theme, what on earth does Blob’s father sound like? Every sound wrangled out of that Moog by Garson pushes things further and further out.

Of course, these are all questions that may never get answers, as Garson wasn’t the most organized modern day composer, busy as he was conjuring strange new realms with his circuit boards and synths. He worked and wrote right up until his death in 2008, his daughter and Sacred Bones still going through all of the material left behind. He wouldn’t live to see it, but his renaissance was just around the corner, the seeds that had been scattered in record bins around the world suddenly coming to bear fruit. Take a bite!

Mort Garson’s road to cool cultural caché and the sublimity of Plantasia meant a decades’ long journey through an underworld of sophisticated, international, string-laced dreck (i.e., your great-grandparents’ record collection) to arrive at Music from Patch Cord Productions, this set of queasy-listening you now hold.

Music from Patch Cord Productions shows that Garson’s knack was to exist in both worlds, super-commercial and waaay out. He cut delirious minute-long blasts for commercials (as to whether or not they were actually ever aired remains unknown) and spacecraft-hovering études. Were there really account managers out there in the early ’70s that gave the greenlight to these commercial compositions which seemed to anticipate everyone from John Carpenter to Suicide? What were these campaigns actually for, Soylent Green? Regardless, Mort’s jingle work laid the groundwork for the future. As Robert Moog himself noted: “The jingles were important because they domesticated the sound.” Via Garson’s wizardry, the synthesizer transcended novelty to ubiquity and dominance.

Other curios and questions abound. How did Garson’s arrangement work for Arthur Prysock’s satiny body worship album This Is My Beloved transmogrify into the body-snatcher pulses of “This is My Beloved”? Are the two pieces even related? What is the IATA code for the airport of “Realizations of an Aeropolis”? What denomination is the “Cathedral of Pleasure”? If “Son of Blob” sounds like a hallucinatory melted ice cream truck theme, what on earth does Blob’s father sound like? Every sound wrangled out of that Moog by Garson pushes things further and further out.

Of course, these are all questions that may never get answers, as Garson wasn’t the most organized modern day composer, busy as he was conjuring strange new realms with his circuit boards and synths. He worked and wrote right up until his death in 2008, his daughter and Sacred Bones still going through all of the material left behind. He wouldn’t live to see it, but his renaissance was just around the corner, the seeds that had been scattered in record bins around the world suddenly coming to bear fruit. Take a bite!

Reissue. Remastered.

HIGHLIGHTS First ever reissue of "Kabwlú", a very hard-to-find album released by Discos Fuentes in 1965. The mysterious Los Picapiedra (which translates as The Flintstones, inspired by the 1960s American cartoon show), was a short-lived studio group with one albumto their name, "Kabwlú", mixing 'folkloric' and 'modern' elements with calculated 'caveman' humor. It is very musically diverse; not only are there the requisite genres that could be found on similar Colombian teenage-oriented groups' records of the time, such as cumbia, gaita, rock, twist and pachanga, but there is also a smattering of surf, doo-wop, Latin jazz, guajira, ska, and calypso. But what makes the whole thing so special is the odd, off-kilter arrangements, spooky tunings, rudimentary clanging percussion, invented 'cave' language, prominent twanging electric guitar and many zany sound effects. Several of Los Picapiedra's songs became very popular in Colombia as well as Venezuela and especially in the 'rebajada' (slowed down) version as played by the 'sonidero' sound system DJs in Mexico, such as "La Hossa". Presented in its original artwork and pressed on 180g vinyl. Part of Vampisoul's reissue series of classic Fuentes LPs. DESCRIPTION While Discos Fuentes was known for recording all sorts of interesting sounds from traditional folkloric Colombian music to the latest popular international styles, every once and a while they would put out a "novelty" record, perhaps to exploit a passing fad, and at times the label would green-light something strange or even outlandish. Many of those left-field releases have their merits and have subsequently become collectors' items over the years. One such case is the mysterious Los Picapiedra (which translates as The Flintstones, no doubt inspired by the 1960s American sitcom cartoon show), a short-lived studio group with one album to their name, "Kabwlú" (an unpronounceable, invented "caveman" term that is also untranslatable, but seems to have been the 'traditional rhythm' of Los Picapiedra's 'homeland'). What is interesting about the record is that it is very musically diverse; not only are there the requisite genres that could be found on similar Colombian teenage-oriented groups' records of the time, such as cumbia, gaita, rock, twist and pachanga, but there is also a smattering of surf, doo-wop, Latin jazz, guajira, ska, and calypso. But what makes the whole thing so special is the odd, off-kilter arrangements, spooky tunings, rudimentary clanging percussion, invented 'cave' language, prominent twanging electric guitar and many zany sound effects. Much like its namesake American cartoon The Flintstones, "Kabwlú" trades in creative anachronism, mixing 'folkloric' and 'modern' elements with calculated 'caveman' humor that works on many different levels. For instance the title tune seems to have been inspired by the pachanga craze and recalls the vibe of Ray Barretto's massive 1962 hit, 'El Watusi', but it has a certain joyful simplicity and rock-solid underpinning that elevates it beyond mere novelty or exploitation - and argues for its timely reissue for today's audience. The band was a studio invention that had no major significance in Medellin's live music activity. However, several of Los Picapiedra's songs were very popular in Colombia as well as Venezuela and especially in the 'rebajada' (slowed down) version as played by the 'sonidero' sound system DJs in Mexico, such as "La Hossa". Pablo E Yglesias (aka DJ Bongohead, Peace & Rhythm) Additional research by Luis Daniel Vega

7"
(This is...) one of Sascha Müller's weirdest, most experimental musical ideas brought to life as a limited, hand-numbered edition of 100 gold vinyl 7"es. Following the concept of recording crackling run-out grooves from various classic Pop albums and glueing them together into one crackly mess of a megamix this one is a collectors novelty piece for those searching for the most extreme, unusual vinyl releases they can get hold of. Expect looped crackles, pops, surface noise and all the good stuff related to listening to vinyl on a regular but do not expect any kind of structure or user friendly listening experience at all. This is for the die-hard collectors and vinyl freaks only.

Sublime, unique, sexy and peculiar unreleased scores by electronic and jazz pioneer Ron Geesin, made for the sublime, unique, sexy and peculiar films by maverick director Stephen Dwoskin. There. we’ve said it. And if you have not heard of one or either of these two dudes it doesn’t really matter. Geesin made great music and worked with Pink Floyd. Dwoskin made odd films, most of them are in the BFI permanent collection. They are great and a bit strange.
These superb unreleased soundtracks come from a fascinating, progressive and important period in British film history. They represent an intriguing collaboration between the lively Ron Geesin from Scotland and the American Stephen Dwoskin, who both met in London.
Musically they are minimal, charismatic and quite groundbreaking. Here is the story…
HISTORY:
Steve Dwoskin arrived in London in 1964, aged 25, with several 16mm films in his trunk, shot in the cold-water flats of Greenwich Village. He had been on the fringe of the Factory scene, and some of his films starred Beverly Grant, ‘the queen of the underground’. But they had scarcely been seen, and they didn’t have soundtracks. For almost a year they stayed in the trunk, and stayed silent. Then he met Ron Geesin, somewhere around Portobello Road.
‘Slept last night, completely dressed after working over 12 hours on sound tracks at Ron’s,’ wrote Dwoskin in his diary for 29 July 1965. ‘My films are not anywhere near being anything. I need more energy, more concise and positive ideas and less inhibition. And of course space, money and people.’ Dwoskin, who taught and practised graphic design by day, had recently decided to stay in London beyond the term of the Fulbright scholarship that had brought him there.
Ron, living with Frankie in a basement flat in Elgin Crescent – they would marry the next year, with Dwoskin as best man – was about to leave the Original Downtown Syncopators, the trad jazz band he had joined aged seventeen-and-a-half, and was trying to go solo. On stage he would make vigorous use of piano and banjo; at home Frankie had bought him a new kind of instrument – a tape recorder. ‘Soon I had one tape recorder, two tape recorders, three tape recorders.’

Ron, wrote Dwoskin in his unpublished autobiography, ‘loved to record, and to cut and splice the quarter-inch recording tape to make new sounds. This triggered in me the idea of getting back to my films and finishing them’. Soon he was living in a dank basement in Denbigh Road, a few minutes’ walk from Elgin Crescent. Ron’s soundtracks for Dwoskin’ films, recorded in the Geesins’ flat, encompassed Ron’s very eclectic range of styles – madcap piano and fretted banjo as well as tape manipulation.
Aside from Ron’s soundtracks, some of which belong to films that no longer exist (including Pot Boiler), Frankie would act in one of the films that Dwoskin either lost or never finished during these years. He was disabled, having contracted polio as a child, and Ron and Frankie were both carers and collaborators; Ron had met him when he was struggling into his car.
There was no London equivalent to the underground film scene that Dwoskin had known in New York, and his films remained unseen until such a scene began to come into being, in the autumn of 1966. Some of them made their debut at the Mercury Theatre, near Notting Hill Gate, that September. Dwoskin wrote that Alone, starring Zelda Nelson (from Ron Rice’s Chumlum), and Chinese Checkers, with Beverly Grant and Dwoskin’s friend Joan Adler, went over best.
Soon both Dwoskin and Geesin became involved in the nascent London Film-Makers’ Co-op, which put on screenings in Better Books on Charing Cross Road – ‘if you can call them screenings,’ Ron recalls; ‘I’d call it fifteen blokes in various stages of disarray, peering through the smoke’. One or more of the films had been ‘striped’ with magnetic audiotape; with others ‘we had no means of direct syncing to the picture, so he started the film and I started the tape recorder’.
In the same autumn, Dwoskin moved into a flat almost opposite the Geesins on Elgin Crescent. More collaborations followed, including Naissant, on which Gavin Bryars, whom Geesin had met during a stint on the northern club circuit with novelty act Dr Crock and His Crackpots, played double bass.
Around the end of 1967 Geesin released his first solo LP, A Raise of Eyebrows, and Dwoskin won recognition the Fourth Experimental Film Competition, aka EXPRMNTL 4, an occasional film festival staged at Knokke-le-Zoute in Belgium. By now the films had optical soundtracks.
It was only after this that Dwoskin completed his first ‘British’ films, including Me Myself and I, with Barbara Gladstone, an American dancer who had appeared in Barbara Rubin’s Christmas on Earth, and with whom Dwoskin and Geesin had at one point devised a stage show, never produced. For Moment, a single-shot film, Geesin provided his most experimental score yet. At the time of its debut in 1970, Dwoskin and the Geesins were sharing a house in Ladbroke Grove.
By then, Ron was working with Pink Floyd, and soon afterwards he and Frankie moved out to the country, to be replaced by Bryars both in the house and as Dwoskin’s principal collaborator.
Until now these scores have remained part of the Geesin Archive and have never been issued.

Outta Sight’s collectable ‘Real Side’ series continues with two stunning sides from Ted Jarrett’s Nashville based ‘ref-o-ree’ label. Jarrett was a hugely successful songwriter and producer for a number of Tennessee labels before he formed Poncello and Spar ahead of the harder Soul sounding ‘ref-o-ree’ that was home to our star turn Wendell Watts. Little is known about Wendell Watts other than he recorded and released two 45s for the ‘ref-o-ree’ label in 1969. According to some sources he hailed from Detroit but these recordings are certainly Nashville based and were produced by label owner Ted Jarrett and arranged by his long-time collaborator Bob (Robert) Holmes. The 45s are highly collectable with “Kiss A Good Thing Goodbye” rarely seen for sale and available as a reissue for the very first time. Incredibly, both of our featured spins were originally released as B-sides. “You Girl” on the back of Watts’ soul-cover of the Peppermint Rainbow hit “Will You Be Staying After Sunday”, whilst “Kiss A Good Thing Goodbye” played second fiddle to the novelty Bob Holmes song “The Love Bug”. The latter was reissued in 1972 coupled with “Grooviest Thing Side Of Heaven” on the tiny Jiminie logo. Watts also released a chidren’s Christmas album in 1972, for which he wrote most of the songs, before bowing out of the music industry.

At the turn of the 80's, a new generation of musicians appeared who saw synthesisers not as dehumanizing machines but as musical instruments that could be coaxed into creating modern, beautiful and decidedly emotional music. It was almost as if the musicians were intentionally creating this music to prove the doubters wrong. 

Compiled by Saint Etienne’s Bob Stanley and Pete Wiggs, “The Tears Of Technology” celebrates this brief period when scruffy synth duos from the provinces broke through and took over British pop. Like mellotrons before them, synths could project a strange and deep emotion; listen to OMD’s ‘Sealand’, or the Human League’s ‘WXJL Tonight’, and it was clear that something in the wiring had an inherent melancholy.

In the 60's and 70's, the synthesiser had mostly been regarded as either a novelty or a threat. Tomorrow’s World warned us that the cold, heartless synth would soon make orchestras redundant. But by 1980, Korgs, Moogs and Rolands were becoming affordable for all, and post-punk had created a safe place for new groups to experiment with these new toys.

The influence of Kraftwerk – who had made a landmark appearance on Tomorrow’s World in 1975 – is all over this collection. Big names rub shoulders with obscurities by Turquoise Days, Electronic Circus and Illustration, all highly prized recordings among ‘cold wave’ and ‘minimal synth’ afficionados. There are pioneers like John Foxx and Thomas Leer, alongside unexpected synth sadness from Simple Minds and the Teardrop Explodes.

“The Tears Of Technology” celebrates an era of electronic melancholia, synthesized intimacies and insights – even Tomorrow’s World didn’t see that coming.

"Art Is A Cat" is The Dining Rooms' eighth studio album - thirteenth if we also consider five remix and rework records - in over twenty years of career. It comes out five years after the fully instrumental "Do Hipsters Love Sun (Ra)?", and shows itself as a new milestone in the artistic path of the Milanese duo formed by Stefano Ghittoni and Cesare Malfatti.

In fact, "Art Is A Cat" hosts every facet of The Dining Rooms' music, mostly nourishing the intuitions delivered in past albums such as "Experiments in Ambient Soul" (2005) and "Ink" (2007). It preserves all the characteristics of their typical signature: songs balanced between folk and soul, dub expansions, instrumental hip hop and cinematic atmospheres. Not to renounce to any of these aspects and given the high quality of the recorded material, Stefano and Cesare decided not to sacrifice anything, and wrote and produced a 19-song full-length for a total duration of about sixty minutes.

"Art Is A Cat" also hosts a large group of guest singers, both historical voices of the band and absolute novelties, who also co-wrote the lyrics; the vocal parts are interspersed with the group's instrumental classics, from funk-fueled visionary downtempos to more experimental micro-songs. Sean Martin and Georgeanne Kalweit therefore return with two songs each (one of the two sung by Georgeanne has its lyrics written by Jake Reid, a London-based singer who already collaborated with The Dining Rooms in "Lonesome Traveler" in 2011).

Among the new entries we have, first of all, the Italian-Tunisian Rahma Hafsi on the sensual ballad "Little Girl" sung both in English and Arabic, while the very young Italian-Salvadoran Beatrice Velasco Moreno sings, together with Sean on backing vocals, the spoken-word "Teach Me To Dance", the spiritual "Sweet Love" and the title-track, an orchestral folk moment among the most inspired ones in the entire band's history; Lola Kola, queen of Tropicantesimo, also brings an absolute novelty in the world of The Dining Rooms, presenting for the first time an Italian-sung piece: "Nella Sua Loca Realtà", a post-melodic song dedicated to the fragility of love.

The vocal parts series ends with two episodes in which Stefano resumes his past as a singer (in the '80s with Peter Sellers & The Hollywood Party) with the Indian-flavoured "Ohm And Raga" and the existentialist ballad "She Says I'm Bad".

"Art Is A Cat" is therefore a complete and very fascinating album, destined to excite and leave its mark.

Doktor Normal, the latest addition to Estonia's small yet buzzing funk scene backs its nerd hop/novelty rap with MPC beats and synths. The first compositions date back to 2008, original inspiration lies in the TV series Garth Marenghi's Darkplace. Without any prior knowledge of producing hip-hop, the starting point was humor. After a 10-year hiatus, Doktor Normal got around the record an album.

"World of Ham" is Doktor Normal's début LP released on vinyl (250 copies) and digitally. The 10-track album serves as a fine example of contemporary retro-hop and electro funk with an unusual additude. Child-like creativity, pure and unfiltered flow is further exemplified by the LP cover image, and texts filled purposely with grammatic errors. The essential mantra of Doktor Normal is: make your own rules!

A mythical and misplaced masterpiece of lost soft rock and acidic folk funk by a one-hit wonderer lost in the wilderness for four decades. From the producer of Margo Guryan, writer behind Wool, Gerry Mulligan collaborator, Tarantino soundtracker and Wendy & Bonnie confidant, Paint A Lady now emerges from folkloric obscurity, to bring a wash of soft psychedelic colour to your vinyl collection and quench the repeat requests of a thirsty new found audience waiting for the rain.

Within certain record collecting circles, especially those who gather under the umbrella that covers fragile niches like 'acid folk' and 'soft rock', it's difficult to imagine a time when the legendary Susan Christie album didn't exist. When Finders Keepers Records first shared the unheard 60's songs like Paint A Lady, For The Love Of A Soldier and Echoes In Your Mind with a wide-eyed audience thirsty for organic soul and festival friendly acoustic funk, Susan's new found fan base instantly felt like they had known these songs all of their lives, and with a single needle drop we saw the birth of what could rightfully be described as an 'instant classic'. Which is why it's hard to believe that the music on this lost 60s acetate was only pressed 12 years ago. As our lucky seventh release in an international discography that now surpasses the 100 mark (and one of a small clutch of English language recordings on the label) Paint A Lady has slowly become one of our most requested re-releases, and with this 2018 edition it is technically accurate to say that this pressing is the first-ever reissue of this elusive and essential LP.

The oft over used term mythical applies to this album on many levels. Perhaps it's the woozy nostalgia found within the pop craft of Paint A Lady that has led to false rumours that original 1960's copies used to exist on the collectors market, or the bizarre claim that songs like the head-nodding title track, and the acid-drenched sound effects on Yesterday Where's My Mind were just a product of a contemporary studio band trying to create a fake folk funk red herring. As a result Susan Christie and her producer and husband of 40 years, John Hill have happily taken the repeat phrase 'unbelievable' as a compliment to their songwriting skills and foresight. In all fairness, with a decade to ponder, the original 1969 song titles alone do seem custom-built for the nostalgia market... No One Can Hear You Cry might lament the unrequited yearning for a record deal which never quite followed Susan's won one-hit wonder novelty hit I Love Onions; similarly When Love Comes might allude to the subsequent 35 year wait for the right label to eventually come along. Echoes In Your Mind and the aforementioned Yesterday... could easily allude to the haunting melodies that sat in the can on John Hill's studio shelf while his projects for Margo Guryan, Wool and Pacific Gas & Electric sat proudly in record racks before benefitting successful French cover versions or making their way on to Quentin Tarantino soundtracks. The track Paint A lady itself, complete with it's future-proofed sample-worthy rhythm section, seems like the perfect title for a mock rock pseudo psych contender - at which point you eventually step back and see the bigger picture. These guys were simply one drop too far ahead of their time; a family force of experimental pop perfection that late 60's America simply wasn't ready for. It is just over 12 years since champion record rustler Keith D'Arcy (who you'll meet on the inside sleeve) stumbled upon one of the original acetates that led to the final release of Paint A Lady, and it's almost a longer 50 years since Susan and John added their final touches to these recordings which tragically went into hibernation for over four decades.

Whether this album has been on your wish-list for what seems like a lifetime, or you are taking a plunge into this deep puddle for the first time, when the needle drops on the first track you'll find that Susan Christie, John Hill and Finders Keepers have been saving up for a very rainy day.

2017 Was Born Our Independent Label Undergroove Records Specialit Of Eclectic House Music But Also The Release Of Our First Vinyl Ug001 - Cosmic Ground (various Artists). All This Novelty Is For Us The Outcome Of Years Of Work And The Result Of A Commun Passion For Electronic Music.

Two irresistibly fun, knockabout riffs on the Champs 'Tequila' template. The kind of record which manages to be silly, novelty, throwaway and yet easily the coolest thing you'll hear all week, all at the same time. Whether you prefer the bizarre dragging sound effects and sleazy come ons of 'Caliente' or the more simple interjections of 'Oh Leola', either side is sure to put a smile on your dancefloor.