Buscar:official business

Red Viny Repress

l Indispensable 1981 cosmic funk business from Tommy McGee, remastered and reissued on black 12” with replica artwork that has been calling out for an official reissue due to it’s eye watering £250+ price tag.

Ten years ago, Adolph Robert Thornton Jr. planted his flag. Released on February 19, 2016, King of Memphis wasn't just a debut studio album; it was a bold declaration of independence and a flawless blueprint for self-made success. To celebrate a decade of this foundational Southern rap masterpiece, Paper Route Empire is honoring Young Dolph’s legacy with a series of exclusive, limited-edition 10th Anniversary vinyl variants.

Before King of Memphis, Dolph had already built a massive underground following through a relentless run of mixtapes. But this official debut elevated him from a local hero to a national powerhouse.

By bypassing the major label system and releasing the project entirely through his own Paper Route Empire (PRE), Dolph proved that undeniable talent, relentless hustle, and business savvy were all you needed to take the crown. The album peaked in the Top 50 of the Billboard 200, an incredible feat for a fiercely independent artist at the time, and cemented his status as a CEO who called his own shots.

King of Memphis is all killer, no filler. Over 11 tracks, Dolph's signature slow-flow delivery and larger-than-life charisma glide over heavy-hitting, trap-defining production from a legendary lineup of producers, including Mike WiLL Made-It, Zaytoven, TM88, and Cassius Jay.

With zero guest features, the project relies entirely on Dolph’s magnetic presence. From the motivational hustler's anthem "Get Paid" to the menacing confidence of "Let Me See It" and "Royalty," the album plays like a victory lap for a self-made king.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Originally released on one of Bruton's extensive library albums but later used as the theme song to a UK drama series dealing with the intrigues of a family motor business and the world of rally driving from the 80s, "The Winning Streak" is another production by the now late library music maestro Alan Hawkshaw. A downtempo track with remarkably trippy use of percussion elements via electronics and drum machines with entertaining accents and "exotic" vocals. Another wonderful example of library music tickling the fancy of diggers and collectors with a dancefloor inclinations thanks to its highly distinct sound -- everybody loves a winner. 1 to 1 official re-issue, remastered.

Repress!

Early ‘80s boogie business from De De, ‘S & M (Sexy Music)’, gets a much-deserved, official reissue. OG copies regularly trade hands for £30+ so it’s high time this sweet sexiness found its way out of more sound systems.

With a title like ‘S&M (Sexy Music)’ it was only ever going to be a sleazy, sexy, synthy heater, drenched in tantalising keys, spacey arps, funk guitars and salacious vocals. And with the production prowess of George Kerr & Reggie Griffin behind it - who produced, wrote and arranged for the likes of The O’Jays, Treacherous Three, The Whatnauts and Patti Labelle to name only a handful – it had certified party starter written all over it!

Two mixes take either side of this full frontal 12 inch. The A side houses the ‘Rated G’ mix, where layered vocals trade off from male to female and sleazed up saxes parade through the later stages as that short but sweet rap rolls around. The B side’s ‘Rated X’ mix adds even steamier verses with ever more female power behind them and extra unadulterated, squelching bass into the pot.

Sensuous offerings from De De that will get any crowd crying out for more.

Beautiful Zambian Jazz/Rock LP. Huge Tip!
Sharp-Flat Records presents the long-awaited restoration of The Broadway Quintet's cult classic Amalume – a hypnotic concoction of traditional Zambian sounds and jazz-rock grooves with a twist of 1970s African psychedelia.

Emerging to serve the entertainment needs of Zambia's United National Independence Party (UNIP) in the early 1960s, The Broadway Quintet gathered seasoned talent from Lusaka's best hotel bands to fashion its esteemed lineup. Starting as a quartet and later evolving into a quintet, the group's career spanned over twenty years as favourites on the cabaret circuit and boasted a myriad of prestigious collaborations.

The Broadway Quintet's jazz sensibilities set them apart from the rock sound that dominated the music landscape of the 1970s. Yet the formula behind Zamrock, fusing indigenous Zambian sounds with Western pop, shaped their one and only 1976 long-player. Featuring modern arrangements of traditional songs, Amalume blended congas with sax sounds, folk lyrics with electric keyboard shenanigans and show business staples with jazz guitar noodling. With its psychedelic fever dream illustrated cover, it was an explosive package of "originality and electrifying beauty" as the album's liner notes rightly attested.

Released on the Zambezi label, Amalume joined an exceptional run of mid-1970s offerings alongside WITCH, Ricky Banda and Crossbones. Officially licensed, carefully restored and beautifully reproduced, Zambia's most requested reissue has finally returned for everybody to enjoy.

One of the all-time classic UK Garage releases from the minds of two masters, Grant Nelson and Simon Firmin as 24hr Experience, gets a much-deserved official reissue remastered straight from the DAT tapes via Digital Tape Recordings.

Wall-to-wall anthems that capture of everything great about the hey days of UKG. Rough, tough, swung beats, bouncing basslines, dreamy pads and chopped up vocals, at a pace that sets dancefloors alight every time. You’d be hard pressed not to have heard the likes of ‘I Need A Man’ or ‘Together’ absolutely tear up the dance before, reloads and wheels left, right and centre. Timeless business that should be a part of every collection.

Two stone cold Roy Ayers classics get the South Street Disco official reissue treatment, one side the feel-good disco-tinged, jazz funk fire ‘Running Away’ and the other the smooth groove, love letter funk bomb ‘Love Will Bring Us Back Together’. Melting hearts, melting minds, is there a better Valentines gift out there then two slices of joy from Roy?

From hip hop to house, ‘Running Away’ has been a favoured sampling treasure since it came out in 1977. Co-produced alongside Edwin Birdsong and William Allen, joyous vocal harmonies dance around grooving basslines, strutting guitar riffs and Roy’s warm soothing tones. Top it off with some trademark vibes and it’s a one-way ticket to happiness, pure sunshine smiles all round.

Flip it to find ‘Love Will Bring Us Back Together’. Straight up seductive business co-produced by Carla Vaughn. It’s silky, it’s smooth, it’s everything you want it to be and more. Clavinet wizardry, buttery Rhodes layers and fiery vocals. Loved up funk at it’s best.

Beautifully remastered and presented 3LP set of exceptional Kanzai psych. Truly classic and very essential business. This stuff melts your heart, brain and face simultaneously..

Temporal Drift presents the first-ever officially sanctioned reissue of celebrated Japanese cult band Les Rallizes Dénudés’ three albums, originally compiled and released in limited quantities on CD in 1991. Led by the enigmatic Takashi Mizutani, Les Rallizes Dénudés has gained an almost mythical status the world over with their delicate balancing act between transcendent psychedelia and pure sonic assault, maintaining its status as an underground phenomenon throughout their three decade existence and beyond.

‘67-’69 STUDIO et LIVE, MIZUTANI / Les Rallizes Dénudés, and ‘77 LIVE are the only albums released during Les Rallizes Dénudés’ lifetime, between its formation in 1967 at Doshisha University in Kyoto to its last-ever show in 1996 at Club Citta in Kawasaki. Produced by Mizutani, the three discs collectively provide a window into the (in)famously impenetrable band’s first decade of existence.

‘77 LIVE is an explosive live set from Tokyo that captures the glorious noise of the Rallizes at their full potential. Recorded on March 12, 1977 at Tachikawa Social Education Hall in Tachikawa, Tokyo, ‘77 LIVE showcases Mizutani’s unmistakable, overdriven, feedback-drenched guitar, played on a newly purchased Gibson SG, soon to become his signature ax. Includes wholly transformed versions of “Memory is Far Away” and “The Last One” reaching the kind of highs that no unsuspecting listener could have imagined coming from Mizutani or the Rallizes just a few years prior, as heard on ‘67-’69 STUDIO et LIVE and MIZUTANI / Les Rallizes Dénudés.

Produced in collaboration with The Last One Musique, the new label set up by former members and associates of Les Rallizes Dénudés, ‘77 LIVE features newly remastered audio by former Rallizes member Makoto Kubota and new liner notes by Yuasa Manabu.

"PROG-ROCK LEGENDS SPOCK’S BEARD ARRIVE ON MADFISH WITH NEW ALBUM THE ARCHAEOPTIMIST. GATEFOLD 2LP VERSION, PRESSED ON RED VINYL. “mad time signatures, impossible harmonies, intense arrangements…sensational”
THE PROG REPORT “a true heir of the legacy of bands as Yes, Gentle Giant, Pink Floyd & old Genesis…a truly fascinating voyage.” METAL TEMPLE If Spock’s Beard have taught us anything over their 30+ years in the business, it’s that they have no interest in becoming their own tribute act. The Archaeoptimist - their latest offering & first release on Madfish - is not a retreat into old habits, but a recalibration. Just when you think they’re settling in, they kick the walls out instead. At the centre of this particular storm is Ryo Okumoto, whose fingerprints are all over the album - not just as a performer, but as a driving creative force. Teaming up with co-writer Michael Whiteman (I Am the Manic Whale) & longstanding bandmembers Alan Morse & Ted Leonard, Ryo has helped shape an album that is undeniably Spock’s Beard with a characteristic wry smile to boot. The album was produced by Okumoto & recorded at each band member’s respective home studios. Esteemed producer Rich Mouser (Dream Theater/Weezer) takes up the mixing & mastering duties. Over more than 30 years, Spock’s Beard have established themselves as one of modern progressive music’s most exciting & consistent acts, with live shows as renowned as their studio work & tours that draw sold-out audiences across the globe. Their albums regularly chart worldwide, with 2018’s Noise Floor reaching #3 on the UK Official Rock & Metal Chart & #6 on the Official Progressive Albums Chart.

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

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



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

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

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

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

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



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

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



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

This 45 comprises two killer pop dancers with plenty of psych fuzz guitars, punchy horns and funky beats: the in-demand Christie Laume's mod anthem 'Rouge-Rouge' and Marta Kubisova's 'Tak Dej Se K Nám A Projdem Sv?t' a glorious LP-only song that has never available on a 45 before. Sister-in-law of Edith Piaf (who introduced her to the music business), Christie Laume became a ye-ye style singer in '60s France. Her mod anthem 'Rouge, Rouge' (1967) is a great song that never fails in making the dance floor shake, taken from a very rare and in-demand E.P. On the flipside we can find Marta Kubisová, one of the most popular singers in the Czech Republic in the '60s. Her 'Tak Dej Se K Nám A Projdem Sv?t' is a glorious LP-only song from 1969 that has never available on a 45 before. Expect heavy basslines, punchy horns and fuzzy guitars. Both songs are officially reissued here on a 45 for the first time.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Following his recent EP, The Circle of Life, on Pushmaster Discs, Milan's rising techno star Maike Depas returns with a brand-new release on his renowned The Innovation Studio Records. Titled “Sexy Devil Horse”, it is a powerful 10-track collection, featuring many iconic international artists from the Hard Techno space such as Etruria Beat’s headmaster Luca Agnelli, Dutch-based sensation OGUZ and the “Demon of hard techno” also known as Michael Katana, as well as Southern Italian talents CHRS and Gianni Di Bernardo.
This release marks a pivotal moment in Maike Depas’ journey to become one of the highest rated talents in the Hard Techno scene. It will also be followed by a key paradigm shift his label’s business model in 2025. For this occasion, Maike has lined up an amazing group of artists to celebrate those who have shared his musical vision along the way.

The title is meant to be provocative and captivating, just like its content: catchy and fresh enough to attract ravers and clubbers from around the world. Its artwork was created by the master Luden Works. It features a plastic female figure with an undefined appearance, yet with sensual curves and a powerful surge of energy, like a wave enclosed in a sphere, representing Maike’s and The Innovation Studio Records’ logos.
From the galloping rhythm of “Sexy Devil Horse” and “Hear The Sound” to the groovy and elegant “Ce Soir” there is an immediate feel about the artist’s singular touch and eclecticism. Same goes for the tangible contrasts which make a key element of this release, where the minimalistic mood of “StarKiller” and its maximalist counterpart “Dark Serenade” carry the listener through a full-spectrum emotional rollercoaster.
Hard Techno and Psy Trance vibes go hand in hand with ‘90s Trance and Rave echoes, creating a blend of recognisable and innovative samples that can resonate with many different types of audience and like-minded artists. This aspect is fundamental in the direction Maike and his team have decided to take.

It all comes from afar: starting with a classical musical background – playing the piano at Conservatory level for many years, including Berlin’s own Funkhaus. This theoretical and practical knowledge, mixed with a long-time passion for electronic music, made it easier for Maike to shape and cultivate his authentic sound since a very young age.

As part of its evolution, The Innovation Studio Records will officially open its doors to new talent and renowned artists starting in 2025. The team’s vision is to create an international reference point for quality and innovation, shaping a brand-new artistic movement based on combining the modern vision of our generation with our cultural heritage from the past, thanks to the team that we put together, both in terms of approach and technique.
It'll be a structure built from the ground up, combining the best of analogue technology in a modern workflow with the highest level of music hardware, audio monitoring and studio design. In their view, there are two types of productions: those that stay ‘inside the box’ and those that get into your heart.

The desire to unite instead of dividing, to join forces instead of competing, is the key to Maike’s success and a real drive to turn the studio lights on every single day. Despite playing a lot with dystopic, cyberpunk-like atmospheres throughout his artistic journey, music doesn’t feel like a means to escape reality for Maike. In fact, it’s quite the opposite.

The definition Maike uses the most to describe what The Innovation Studio Records wants to become is “a mysterious display cabinet”: a place where an artists will never know what emotion will arise or what direction will be taken next. Although hard work, professionalism and common inspiration will ultimately still be its main fuel, a true sense of community and empathy will be crucial to shape the future Maike and his team have in mind for it.
In a very romantic way, the idea is to re-create the same atmosphere from the Italian Renaissance masters’ workshops. Places where different artists - with opposite backgrounds and styles - could all mingle and inspire each other, in order to foster the creation of something unique. A collective effort for a greater good.

About MAIKE DEPAS
Young hard techno DJ-producer Maike Depas (born Michelangelo De Pasquale) has seen the future of music and it’s called metaverse: “In the future it will blow up,” he predicts. “And it’s going to revolutionize the way we experience music.” Bowled over by Skrillex and Martin Garrix by the age of eight, and DJing at smaller Milan clubs by the time he was eleven, Depas went on to study composition and piano at the prestigious

Milan Conservatory before learning ‘life- changing” lessons from the best in the business at Catalyst’s 4-week Advanced Sound Design course in Berlin’s Funkhaus . His production gets inspired by huge 90s trance synths as much as pounding hard techno from artists such as Kobosil, In Verruf and Amelie Lens.
2024 marked the launch of MAIKE DEPAS 2.0, a tectonic audio-visual shift that entails a wide array of content from DJ sets livestreamed from Berlin’s Teufelsberg and other dystopic locations around Europe to cyberpunk-inspired outfits designed by Demobaza, a cyberpunk-inspired casual couture brand best known for their sustainable Dune X Demobaza collection. Over the course of a developing metamorphosis from a flesh-and-bone individual to a mysterious CGI character, Depas is another step closer to revolutionize the dance music scene through the metaverse.

The 20th Anniversary Edition of Beyond Good & Evil and its official soundtrack offer a refreshed yet faithful rendition of the game's original music. Utilizing a full orchestra, we preserved the unique, intimate feel of the compositions, often created through improvised sessions. The soundtrack includes new tracks, some recorded with unconventional instruments, celebrating the creativity that made the 2003 original and the franchise special.

“Beyond Good & Evil – 20th Anniversary Edition and its official soundtrack are a true labor of love that give a beautiful new sheen to the notes and melodies of the game, yet always staying true to the emotions that resonated with the fans back then. While we had the means to work with a full-fledged orchestra this time around, we made sure to keep the quirky, intimate feel of the compositions that were, more often than not, the results of improvised jams and family reunions around an iron anvil or a toy ukulele. This soundtrack is an ode to a sort of colorful, artisanal and unbridled creativity, completed here with new tracks (including parts recorded on a broken guitar with an unconventional tuning), and the perfect celebration of all the little things that made the 2003 original and this franchise so special.”

-Christophe Héral

Bomp Records of Burbank, California was likely the most significant American independent record label of the 1970s. In 1979 Voxx was founded as a subsidiary of Bomp as a specialty label for '60s-styled garage and psychedelic inspired music and was home to the debut album of the Pandoras. The Pandoras really got started back in 1982 when triple threat Paula Pierce (guitar, vocals AND songwriter) met singer and guitarist Debbie Mendoza at Chaffey College Rancho Cucamonga, one of those dozens of small communities that make up the greater Los Angeles area. According to stories told around the campfire, Paula had posted an advertisement on the bulletin board inside the college's cafeteria. The ad was both simple and direct: Wanted: female musician to jam with. As legend has it, the ad also stressed a keen interest in 60's garage punk music. Debbie answered Paula's ad, and soon the two girls were bringing guitars to school and holding impromptu jam sessions between classes. A little later that year, Paula brought in Gwynne Kahn on keyboards and second guitar, and Debbie convinced drummer Casey Gomez to join. People who were around at the time pinpoint December 1982 as the official beginning of the Pandoras as a band. The Pandoras didn't waste any time getting down to business. They started gigging regularly, and their repertoire of tasty garage nuggets expanded substantially, fueled both by Paula's talented songwriting and also no doubt by her relationship with Unclaimed frontman Shelley Ganz and his extensive knowledge of obscure 60's gems. The Pandoras unleashed their first recordings on the world in 1983 with the "I'm Here, I'm Gone" EP on Moxie records. It was a meaty slab of girls in the garage punk rock, and while maybe not as polished as subsequent efforts, it clearly showed off the talent of the band. Greg Shaw had been alerted to the band a few months earlier, and always one to know a good thing when he heard it, he quickly signed them. "It's About Time" saw the light of the day in 1984 on Voxx Records and became one of the first and best efforts of authentic 1960's-styled garage punk to emerge from the revival scene. It was pure garage gold! Today, 40 years after its original release date, we are thrilled to reissue this essential '80s garage punk gem as part of a series of releases celebrating Bomp! 50th anniversary. Our issue includes 3 bonus tracks and liner notes by Gravedigger V's John Hanrattie. "Paula Pierce refused to play it cute. On The Pandoras' debut album she out-snarled, out-screamed, out-fuzzed and out araged the male-dominated competition-like a well-aimed go-go boot to the jugular." - Mike Stax, Ugly Things Magazine "As good a '60s punk record as any contemporary combo is likely to make." - Trouser Press

Czechoslovakian big band legend Gustav Brom has graced dancefloors with his music for a long time, you've probably heard his work and not realised it. PANORAMA returns with "Calling Up The Rain", from his 1976 album "Gustav Brom plays for you Pop Jazz and Swing" Gustav infused big band jazz and a latin groove into this dancefloor weapon, Organ solos, Trumpet solos and a screeching guitar solo. What's not to love?

Presented as a reissue by the newly launched London-based record label, PANORAMA Records, "Calling Up The Rain" reaffirms the label's discerning direction and "Don't Judge A Record By It's Cover" attitude. Championed by Gilles Peterson, Patrick Forge and a few other legends in the game, PANORAMA Records aims to reintroduce this big band hit to new audiences, establishing itself as a tastemaker in the business of reissuing global grooves. It comes with a sticker on the front with quotes from tastemakers Patrick Forge, Rainer Trueby and Zag Erlat (My Analog Journal).

With this release, record collectors can anticipate a discovery of Gustav's anthem, for the first time on a 45 and a first time official reissue, a full blown party starter, as Panorama Records presents "Calling Up The Rain" as a timeless reissue. The label shook mountains with it's first release of Gitte and Inger, with huge DJ support from Gilles Peterson, Ross Allen and other great tastemakers. PAN002 is here, Buy or cry!

Nia Archives is the star at the forefront of the latest era of jungle. Since her emergence in 2020, her collagist soundscapes have helped bring the sound to a new generation of clubgoers (though fair warning: don’t call her a “revivalist” – she’s the first to point out that the scene never went away). So when it comes to talk of the 24-year-old producer, DJ, singer and songwriter’s much-anticipated debut album, the odds are you’re thinking of a full-length record of weightless jungle tracks with basslines so intense they’ll leave your ears ringing.

But the reality of the Bradford-born, Leeds-raised artist’s first ever album – while very much replete with that exquisite jungle sound she does so well – is also doing something a little different. On the thrilling and freeing Silence Is Loud, Nia Archives is looking to make music for beyond the rave. As she explains: “I think music can be experienced in different ways, and there’s different kinds of music for different scenarios. Say you’re at a festival listening to music with thousands of other people, that can feel really uniting. But then you might listen to an album on your own in the bus, or in a taxi; and this project is definitely more a record to sit and listen to than a collection of club tracks.” Nia is intent that Silence Is Loud is taken in as a full body of work of something “more song-focussed, putting interesting sounds on jungle.” It means that this is a record which finds gloomy Britpop, warm Motown, soaring indie, a love for Kings of Leon’s Aha Shake Heartbreak, skittering IDM, Madchester, classic rock, old skool hardcore and more, woven and fused into her ragga and junglist tapestry, all layered with feeling, imbued with her songwriterly lyricism about loneliness, relationships, family, navigating her 20s, and the intense potential power of silence.

The vast sonic palette on Silence Is Loud comes down to Nia’s broad array of influences through her life. With her Jamaican heritage, Nia remembers hearing jungle as a child via her nana, as well as at Bradford Carnival, where she was drawn to the soundsystem culture, dancing carefree on the floats in the parade. The first album she ever bought was Rihanna’s debut, Music of the Sun, and she also went to Pentecostal church back then, and was obsessed with gospel. Aged 16, she moved to Manchester, where she didn’t really know anybody: and so, her solution to meeting people was going out. “Partying was a huge part of my life,” she says, “They used to do little freestyle cyphers at the house parties and I would join in – that’s kind of how I got into singing.” She had found music boring at school, but in meeting all these new people she became interested in making her own music as a hobby. “I was making boom-bap kind of stuff which I didn’t really like in the end,” she laughs, “My lyrics are quite deep, so on a hip-hop beat it all sounds really depressing. I wanted people to dance to my music.” And so she began experimenting with faster tempos alongside that melancholy songwriting, teaching herself how to make beats on Logic: “It’s all been a lot of trial and error, really.”

Nia went to study music in London, and was also interested in visual art, making collages and VHS: “Before the music, I was trying to make a visual archive of my life and the people around me,” she explains, “And then my music was like my diary, and a sonic archive, as well.” Hence, she paired the word “archives” with her middle name, Nia. To this day, in her spare time she’s working on pulling together a documentary on the global nature of the jungle scene.

Back on those first two EPs, Headz Gone West (2021) and Forbidden Feelingz (2022), she honed that junglist sound, painting it with new flecks of colour and vibrance. It was only after she started releasing work that she realised pursuing music could be a viable life path for her. The decision has been paying off ever since. Nia Archives placed third in the prestigious BBC Sound Poll for 2023, alongside garnering a nomination for the Brit Awards’ Rising Star prize, plus wins at the DJ Mag, NME, the MOBOs and Artist and Manager Awards. She has also toured the world – be it North America, Europe or Asia – and even opened a show in London as part of a little something called Beyoncé’s Renaissance World Tour. She’s renowned as a party-starter in her own right, too, with takeovers at Glastonbury, Warehouse Project and her own Bad Gyalz day event. She’s done official remixes for the likes of Jorja Smith, had a huge summer hit with her Yeah Yeah Yeahs rework ‘Off Wiv Ya Headz’, and worked with brands like Corteiz, Nike, Flannels, Burberry, FIFA and Apple. In just three years, it’s fair to say that Nia Archives has become a need-to-know name in dance music.

But Nia is not interested in being one fixed thing. Building on the terrain from her third EP, Sunrise Bang Ur Head Against Tha Wall, the universe of Silence Is Loud is not totally unfamiliar territory; but it’s still emblematic of a bolder scope than we’ve heard from the artist before. Working with Ethan P. Flynn (the songwriter and producer known for his work with FKA twigs and David Byrne), the resulting record is an impressive feat of deftly-sculpted textures; sometimes big and euphoric, like the wobbly, lusty bass of ‘Forbidden Feelingz’, or elsewhere notably gentle and quiet – see: the gorgeous, surprisingly drumless ‘Silence Is Loud (Reprise)’, a heartfelt number that sits somewhere in the school of Adele. “I really sharpened my songwriting skill on this project,” Nia says, “I was really intentional about what I was writing about, and I really loved co-producing with Ethan. His process is so different to anyone I’ve worked with before, and he’s got a kind of DIY set-up like me.” Flynn’s flat overlooks the Barbican, adding that unquantifiable futurist urban quality that the area holds to the music. The pair enjoyed the collaborative process so much that the album was done within three and a half months.

Perhaps this is why Silence Is Loud maintains an exuberant immediacy while still being sleek and spacious, interspersed with flourishes of metallic beats, lush melody and topped with her sugary but powerful vocal, floating over it all. There is an intimacy to the record, perhaps in part due to Nia writing most of her lyrics while sitting in bed in her flat in Bow (once a bedroom producer, always a bedroom producer). You can hear it on the refrain for lead single ‘Crowded Roomz’, which finds rippling guitar lines cutting taut through the beats as Nia refrains: “I feel so lonely crowded rooms.” The song is an examination of life on tour, constantly surrounded by people, but not necessarily those she can be herself around; more than that, the track is exemplary in the category of sad bangers.

Silence Is Loud often finds itself in that push and pull between melancholy and euphoria. There’s a celebration of her unconditional love for her younger brother (the title track), a rumination of an evening with an Irish boy she met by Temple Bar (‘Cards On The Table), or a letter to herself on the light and airy ‘Unfinished Business’, even coming to terms with a lover having a past they haven’t quite processed yet (“nobody comes with a clean slate”). The latter was recorded the week after a music festival, and accordingly captures Nia’s vocal in its not quite healed, husky state.

Nia’s work is always a snapshot of where she’s at when she’s making it. This might not be the debut album you were expecting, but that’s what makes Silence Is Loud so special. Nia Archives has learned the rules of her sound, and is unafraid to break them, pushing jungle and herself into new, unchartered territories that, in turn, go some way to map the history of the greats of British dance music. More than that, it plants her firmly in that lineage.

One of the greatest, heaviest, and most sought-after guitar records from 1970s West Africa, available on vinyl for the first time in over a decade!!!

Bamako, Mali, 1973: Rail Band, the official orchestra of the Malian state railway, drops their self-titled LP. It’s a relentlessly soulful and hypnotic blend of American funk, jazz horns, and Afro-Cuban music, reflected through centuries-old Mandé tradition and blasted at top volume by some of the continent’s greatest artists.

Led by legendary trumpet and saxman Tidiani Koné and held aloft by the intricate web of Djelimady Tounkara’s rumbling, reverb-soaked guitar, Rail Band’s sprawling compositions embody West African storytelling traditions while exulting in the technology and modernity of a newly independent Mali. Vocalists Salif Keita and Mory Kanté, two heroes of African music who would achieve global fame as soloists, are endlessly emotive, oscillating between silky ballads and funk screams. The band’s sound is filled out by layers of percussion, rolling guitars, and melodic horns filtered through the Caribbean.

Starting in 1970, Rail Band played five nights a week, from 2 pm til the early hours, at the Buffet Hotel de la Gare. Their audience was an international array of businessmen, young partiers, and people of the Bamako night. The band was incredibly versatile, switching genres, rhythms, and styles to meet their crowd. It was a volatile mix, one that would fall apart soon after these recordings were made, with Salif Keita’s departure to start the rival Les Ambassadeurs. Though Rail Band continued in many distinguished forms, the eight songs on this album reveal one of the greatest bands to ever exist, at the height of their creative powers.

On “Duga”, a composition dating back to the 13th century and passed on through oral tradition by the jelis (griots), the Rail Band replace balafon with the interplay of Cheick Tidiane’s speaker-rattling bass and Alfred Coulibaly’s tasteful organ. “Marabayasa,” with its iconic sax intro and Mory Kanté channeling James Brown, is a deep-cut favorite of DJs around the world. Part of a long and regal lineage of Malian guitar orchestras initially tasked with translating the region’s traditional music to modern instrumentation, Rail Band morphed and reenvisioned those traditions with a style and energy that has never been matched.

Special tour only numbered 3 cd package. (Albums Inc: Joan Of All / Get Well Soon / Sarabeth Tucek) #33 MOJO AOTY 2023 #28 UNCUT AOTY 2023 Sarabeth Tucek emerges from a decade-long hibernation with a new double-album Joan of All under the new moniker SBT – a longtime nickname given to her by the many musicians she has worked with throughout her career. After retreating from the fevered pace of the record business to concentrate on other creative endeavors, Sarabeth began to piece together the music that would eventually become her most ambitious, personal project yet – the sprawling double-album Joan Of All, which will be released world-wide on 19th May 2023 via her own freshly-minted imprint Ocean Omen. Sarabeth Tucek officially broke onto the music scene 2003 performing a series of spellbinding duets with Bill Callahan on the acclaimed Smog album Supper. This was swiftly followed by a memorable appearance in the prize-winning Brian Jonestown Massacre documentary DiG! Sarabeth also contributed material to their 2005 EP release, We Are the Radio. One of Sarabeth's compositions covered by the band on that EP, "Seer," would later be retitled and released in 2006 as Tucek's debut single, "Something for You”, which became Steve Lamacq’s Single Of The Week on BBC Radio 6 Music. Her self-titled debut album produced by Luther Russell and Ethan Johns hit stores the following year and garnered rave reviews in the press, leading her to supporting Bob Dylan and unfaltering support at the BBC. In 2011, Sarabeth followed up her extraordinary debut with a raw, uncompromising album entitled Get Well Soon, praised as an unflinching meditation on the subject of grief. This release made many year-end lists and the title track was featured on the first season of HBO’s Girls.

Absolutely essential funk-fuelled, disco flavoured business from Le'O Roy with ‘Pound For Pound’ on the mighty Golden Flamingo Records. Produced by Bobby Brinson, and P&P’s very own Peter Brown, you’ll struggle to find four and a half more electrifying, feel-good, funk-infused minutes of music than these.

Pound for pound one of the best cuts of this scene, it’s an early ‘80s boogie leaning blend taking the best bits from disco, funk and soul, and adding a heavy dose of NYC spice to the mix. Punchy funk guitar licks, a driving beat laced with hypnotic cowbells and an intoxicating, gritty yet golden dose of vocal power. A rare as hen’s teeth record finally given the official reissue it’s been crying out for.

1979 Linda Williams gold from the Arista archives gets a much welcomed official, remastered reissue.

With an intro that does exactly as its title suggests, 'Elevate Our Minds' became a huge rare groove record in the mid to late '80s. Produced by the late, great Richard Evans who worked with the very best in the business, from Gene Chandler and Marlena Shaw, to Ramsey Lewis and Ahmad Jamal, it's supremely arranged, blending a Bossa Nova beat and trumpet trills with Linda's distinctly New York authenticity that comes through in the vocals. Like a trip to the blissful beaches of Rio whilst bringing a touch of the New York disco glam along for the ride. Exotic yet familiar, all in the same breath.

On the flip, 'City Living', a straight up New York disco killer - oozing with funk, dripping in brass blasts, off beat hats and spruced up synths, it's a primetime ode to the hustle and bustle of the city. Williams' glorious tones, assisted by a majestic troupe of backing singers, glisten alongside the classy drumming and polished bass badness that lays behind it.

Repress coming!

High Focus Records is proud to present 'Put That Soul On Me' a brand new 3 track offering from arguably one of the best voices to emerge from these shores in recent years : Rag N Bone Man.
Since having been introduced to the world via High Focus Records in early 2013, Rag N Bone Man's career has flourished in an incredible way and it has become a widely known fact that, as cliche as it may sound, he is the next big thing. From gathering attention from the likes of tastemakers Zane Lowe, Rob Da Bank, Mistajam & getting daytime radio play on BBC Radio 1 among others to working with Hip Hop legend DJ Premier and touring all over the country with chart toppers Bastille, it is a proven fact that Rag N Bone Man's voice has the power to touch the hearts of millions no matter what genre of music you are into. With such a universally recognised talent, its going to be hard for nay sayers to deny the infectious flute grooves of 'Put That Soul On Me' or the slow pounding bass of 'Across The Sky'.
Dirty Dike, normally known for his outlandish lyrics and larger than life provocative character takes the back seat on this release, allowing his signature crunchy production to do the talking. Dirty Dike's instrumentals provide the perfect back drop for the smooth rumblings of Rag N Bone Man, the pair complement each other perfectly as the beat and the voice are just as heavy as one another, both putting on a fantastic display of skill and raw talent which has been synonymous with all High Focus Releases.
The title track, 'Put That Soul On Me' is a catchy celebration song, a festive underground tune praising 'that neat sweet soul' whilst denigrating those 'wack ass drums and played out synths' over swirling flutes. Following the festivities we have 'Across The Sky', a bass heavy downtempo number which explores the side effects of different drugs, upon which our protagonist asks for a helping hand before the heart wrenching saxophone kicks in. High Focus Records fans will be pleased to see that the infamous Rag N Bone Man 'exclusive Bars' from the HFTV channel is finally seeing an official release. 'My Business', which set the internet on fire upon its release on the channel, getting retweeted by the likes of super producers DJ Premier and 9th Wonder, is the third track on this project and features a guest verse from Contact Play legend Ronnie Bosh. With these three unmissable tracks on one piece of wax, The 'Put That Soul On Me' 12'' is going to be the soundtrack to your summer.

Disco Segreta is happy to introduce you the official reissue of one of the most sought after italo disco records ever!

Born in London, Karen Louise Freeman experienced vast popularity in Italy in 1982-83, where she appeared on Sunday’s most popular TV program of the era, Domenica In, where she sang the show opening and end tracks: “Wow Mamma Mia” and “Play the music”.

But only the hardest italo diggers know that Louise made another single, “Aa Ee Oo Uu” b/w “Mirage”, which was released in 1983 with close to no success. Over the years, both “Aa Ee Oo Uu” and “Mirage” turned into absolute staples of a typical 1983 italo disco sound: dry, crispy drums, cold ice sweeping synths and melancholic vocals. Vastly overlooked at the time, this record slipped into oblivion, contributing to make the original 12” with extended longer versions to be highly sought after and expensive on the collectors market.

Oddly enough, Karen’s sister is singer Tracy Spencer, who would score a massive hit in Italy during the later years of the italo disco movement, with more pop oriented italo productions by Claudio Cecchetto such as “Run To Me”, which was the second best selling single in Italy in 1986.

As far as we know, Karen left the music industry and now runs a successful fitness and health business.

The incongruous, yet glorious, creative partnership between Nancy Sinatra and Lee Hazlewood was well underway when the two singular artists reunited to record 1972’s Nancy & Lee Again, a follow-up to their bestselling duet debut, Nancy & Lee. Nancy, the eldest daughter of Frank Sinatra, had been working with the Oklahoma-born songwriter since 1965, when she topped the pop charts with “These Boots Are Made For Walkin’.” Over the next five years, the two artists forged a prolific relationship in the studio, with Hazlewood writing and producing many of Nancy’s solo hits. Soon, the duo found success with a series of duets, including “Sand,” “Summer Wine,” and “Some Velvet Morning” – all of which appeared on their highly-influential 1968 debut.

Not long after the critical acclaim and chart success of Nancy & Lee died down, however, Hazlewood unexpectedly relocated to Sweden, leaving his musical partner in the proverbial dust. America, meanwhile, was in the midst of a cultural shift, as the Vietnam War waged on. By the turn of the decade, the musical landscape had changed significantly. “Trivial music and not profound music became unimportant,” recalls Nancy, speaking to Hunter Lea. “It was a tough time.” And yet, despite the circumstances, the stars somehow aligned for the duo to record some of their most magnificent music together.

Returning to Los Angeles for the project, Hazlewood – who reprised his role as producer – chose to take a new direction with the duo’s sophomore album. Nancy recalls, “It was more dramatic; it was more fun to do, more challenging to do…. It was more grandiose.” For the lush, orchestral arrangements, they collaborated with Larry Muhoberac (an original member of Elvis Presley’s TCB band, whose early ‘70s credits also included Barbra Streisand, Neil Diamond, and Lalo Schifrin) and Clark Gassman, who had worked on Hazlewood’s 1970 LP, Cowboy in Sweden. Backing vocals from brothers John and Tom Bahler, who remain two of the most recorded singers in history, added additional texture to several songs.

The big sound that Nancy describes above is exemplified in the album’s cinematic opener, “Arkansas Coal (Suite).” Clocking in at nearly six minutes long, the dynamic overture tells the tale of an ill-fated coal miner (sung by Hazlewood), while Nancy adjusts her vocals to sing as both the miner’s daughter and his wife. Hazlewood’s knack for vivid, nuanced storytelling shines throughout Nancy & Lee Again, particularly in “Paris Summer,” which details the conflict that a married woman faces, as she engages in a passionate affair. Another highlight is the country-inspired hit, “Did You Ever,” which was released as the album’s lead single. After it landed at No.2 on the U.K. pop charts, the song served as an alternate title track in several countries, including LP pressings in the U.K., Germany, and Canada.

One of the most emotionally-charged moments on Nancy & Lee Again is a cover of Dolly Parton’s “Down From Dover.” The heartbreaking tune tells the tale of a pregnant teenager, who has been abandoned by her lover and her family and ultimately gives birth to a stillborn baby. While Parton’s 1970 version was sung from the teenager’s point of view, Hazlewood and Sinatra transformed the country song into a duet. Hazlewood, who offers the man’s side of the story, sings in a notably deeper octave than his signature baritone.

Another poignant selection is “Congratulations,” which describes a soldier coming home from Vietnam. “His face has grown old and his eyes have grown cold/And they tell you of where he has been/Congratulations, you sure made a man out of him,” Hazlewood sings, pointedly. Nancy, who performs as the vet’s wife, argues that the song had a deeper meaning for her duet partner. “Lee started out a hawk, he was an army guy, so he was all for the war in the beginning. We didn’t talk about it, but at some point, he changed radically. ‘Congratulations’ was almost like an apology from him. I don’t want to put words in his mouth, but it was as though he was saying ‘I’m really sorry.’”

The song “Friendship Train” could also be interpreted as an apology of sorts – this time to Nancy. “You’ve been hurt and I’ve been hurt/Now we’re living pain,” the tune opens. When Hazlewood moved to Sweden without telling his longtime musical partner, Sinatra was understandably upset. “I felt pretty betrayed. I mean, who does that? Who just up and disappears like that? I’ll never understand it,” she reveals. But the uplifting duet – a slice of ‘70s pop perfection – offers reaffirming words of love between friends. “Lee felt things very deeply and tended to express his feelings in song instead of in real life,” explains Nancy.

The 10-track album closes with the stripped-down “Got It Together.” Backed by an acoustic guitar, the song is equal parts playful and candid, as the duo has an impromptu, spoken-word conversation about their lives. “I wish that we’d quit getting so old,” laments Nancy, who later shares her wish to have children (she would do so in the next few years). Hazlewood, meanwhile, attempts to remedy his past wrongdoings – this time asking his partner, “Can I go back to Sweden?” With that, Nancy gives her blessing.

This definitive reissue of Nancy & Lee Again also includes two bonus tracks. Both are stylistic departures for the duo – but fit right in with the psychedelic pop of the era. The first one, “Think I’m Coming Down,” is a harmony-filled reflection on a toxic relationship. “I think that was one of Lee’s drug things. I don’t mean that he used drugs; I mean that he was trying to be part of that culture. Trying to be hip,” explains Nancy, who delivers an emotive vocal performance on the solo track. Also included is “Machine Gun Kelly,” penned by a staple of the 70s singer-songwriter movement, Danny Kortchmar (James Taylor, Carole King, Linda Ronstadt). Recorded several months after the release of the album, the song found Nancy reuniting with Billy Strange, who arranged many of her solo albums, as well as Nancy & Lee. Sinatra and Hazlewood first performed “Machine Gun Kelly” during their residency at Las Vegas’ Riviera Hotel in February 1972 (later released as a concert documentary on Swedish television). While the recording has long remained a career favorite of Nancy’s, it would be decades before it was officially released.

Nancy & Lee Again remains a creative high point in the careers of Sinatra and Hazlewood and, upon its release, garnered rave reviews from Billboard, Record World, and Cash Box, among others. Yet, Nancy & Lee Again never received the spotlight it so utterly deserved. “We didn’t have label support at all in those days,” recalls Nancy. “Without the strength of a label, records die. We were old. We were old-fashioned. We were just not what was happening. It’s a very ageist kind of business.” Nevertheless, she adds, “I think it’s a very good album. I think it’s timeless.” Now, after years of being a sought-after rarity, this gem in the Sinatra-Hazlewood canon can finally get its due.

Five decades later, Nancy’s legacy only continues to grow, as new generations discover her impressive catalog (which boasts nearly 20 studio albums – her duets with Hazlewood among them – and dozens of charting singles, including the theme song to the 1967 James Bond film, You Only Live Twice). In 2020, Sinatra was recognized by her peers when “These Boots Are Made For Walkin’” was inducted into the GRAMMY® Hall of Fame. That same year, Sinatra partnered with Light in the Attic for Nancy Sinatra: Start Walkin’ 1965-1976, a definitive survey of her most prolific period. LITA has also reissued Sinatra’s classic debut, Boots, and her iconic, 1968 album with Lee Hazlewood, Nancy & Lee. The label looks forward to celebrating Nancy over the coming years with a variety of special releases, exclusive merchandise, and more.

The incongruous, yet glorious, creative partnership between Nancy Sinatra and Lee Hazlewood was well underway when the two singular artists reunited to record 1972’s Nancy & Lee Again, a follow-up to their bestselling duet debut, Nancy & Lee. Nancy, the eldest daughter of Frank Sinatra, had been working with the Oklahoma-born songwriter since 1965, when she topped the pop charts with “These Boots Are Made For Walkin’.” Over the next five years, the two artists forged a prolific relationship in the studio, with Hazlewood writing and producing many of Nancy’s solo hits. Soon, the duo found success with a series of duets, including “Sand,” “Summer Wine,” and “Some Velvet Morning” – all of which appeared on their highly-influential 1968 debut.

Not long after the critical acclaim and chart success of Nancy & Lee died down, however, Hazlewood unexpectedly relocated to Sweden, leaving his musical partner in the proverbial dust. America, meanwhile, was in the midst of a cultural shift, as the Vietnam War waged on. By the turn of the decade, the musical landscape had changed significantly. “Trivial music and not profound music became unimportant,” recalls Nancy, speaking to Hunter Lea. “It was a tough time.” And yet, despite the circumstances, the stars somehow aligned for the duo to record some of their most magnificent music together.

Returning to Los Angeles for the project, Hazlewood – who reprised his role as producer – chose to take a new direction with the duo’s sophomore album. Nancy recalls, “It was more dramatic; it was more fun to do, more challenging to do…. It was more grandiose.” For the lush, orchestral arrangements, they collaborated with Larry Muhoberac (an original member of Elvis Presley’s TCB band, whose early ‘70s credits also included Barbra Streisand, Neil Diamond, and Lalo Schifrin) and Clark Gassman, who had worked on Hazlewood’s 1970 LP, Cowboy in Sweden. Backing vocals from brothers John and Tom Bahler, who remain two of the most recorded singers in history, added additional texture to several songs.

The big sound that Nancy describes above is exemplified in the album’s cinematic opener, “Arkansas Coal (Suite).” Clocking in at nearly six minutes long, the dynamic overture tells the tale of an ill-fated coal miner (sung by Hazlewood), while Nancy adjusts her vocals to sing as both the miner’s daughter and his wife. Hazlewood’s knack for vivid, nuanced storytelling shines throughout Nancy & Lee Again, particularly in “Paris Summer,” which details the conflict that a married woman faces, as she engages in a passionate affair. Another highlight is the country-inspired hit, “Did You Ever,” which was released as the album’s lead single. After it landed at No.2 on the U.K. pop charts, the song served as an alternate title track in several countries, including LP pressings in the U.K., Germany, and Canada.

One of the most emotionally-charged moments on Nancy & Lee Again is a cover of Dolly Parton’s “Down From Dover.” The heartbreaking tune tells the tale of a pregnant teenager, who has been abandoned by her lover and her family and ultimately gives birth to a stillborn baby. While Parton’s 1970 version was sung from the teenager’s point of view, Hazlewood and Sinatra transformed the country song into a duet. Hazlewood, who offers the man’s side of the story, sings in a notably deeper octave than his signature baritone.

Another poignant selection is “Congratulations,” which describes a soldier coming home from Vietnam. “His face has grown old and his eyes have grown cold/And they tell you of where he has been/Congratulations, you sure made a man out of him,” Hazlewood sings, pointedly. Nancy, who performs as the vet’s wife, argues that the song had a deeper meaning for her duet partner. “Lee started out a hawk, he was an army guy, so he was all for the war in the beginning. We didn’t talk about it, but at some point, he changed radically. ‘Congratulations’ was almost like an apology from him. I don’t want to put words in his mouth, but it was as though he was saying ‘I’m really sorry.’”

The song “Friendship Train” could also be interpreted as an apology of sorts – this time to Nancy. “You’ve been hurt and I’ve been hurt/Now we’re living pain,” the tune opens. When Hazlewood moved to Sweden without telling his longtime musical partner, Sinatra was understandably upset. “I felt pretty betrayed. I mean, who does that? Who just up and disappears like that? I’ll never understand it,” she reveals. But the uplifting duet – a slice of ‘70s pop perfection – offers reaffirming words of love between friends. “Lee felt things very deeply and tended to express his feelings in song instead of in real life,” explains Nancy.

The 10-track album closes with the stripped-down “Got It Together.” Backed by an acoustic guitar, the song is equal parts playful and candid, as the duo has an impromptu, spoken-word conversation about their lives. “I wish that we’d quit getting so old,” laments Nancy, who later shares her wish to have children (she would do so in the next few years). Hazlewood, meanwhile, attempts to remedy his past wrongdoings – this time asking his partner, “Can I go back to Sweden?” With that, Nancy gives her blessing.

This definitive reissue of Nancy & Lee Again also includes two bonus tracks. Both are stylistic departures for the duo – but fit right in with the psychedelic pop of the era. The first one, “Think I’m Coming Down,” is a harmony-filled reflection on a toxic relationship. “I think that was one of [Lee’s] drug things. I don’t mean that he used drugs; I mean that he was trying to be part of that culture. Trying to be hip,” explains Nancy, who delivers an emotive vocal performance on the solo track. Also included is “Machine Gun Kelly,” penned by a staple of the 70s singer-songwriter movement, Danny Kortchmar (James Taylor, Carole King, Linda Ronstadt). Recorded several months after the release of the album, the song found Nancy reuniting with Billy Strange, who arranged many of her solo albums, as well as Nancy & Lee. Sinatra and Hazlewood first performed “Machine Gun Kelly” during their residency at Las Vegas’ Riviera Hotel in February 1972 (later released as a concert documentary on Swedish television). While the recording has long remained a career favorite of Nancy’s, it would be decades before it was officially released.

Nancy & Lee Again remains a creative high point in the careers of Sinatra and Hazlewood and, upon its release, garnered rave reviews from Billboard, Record World, and Cash Box, among others. Yet, Nancy & Lee Again never received the spotlight it so utterly deserved. “We didn’t have label support at all in those days,” recalls Nancy. “Without the strength of a label, records die. We were old. We were old-fashioned. We were just not what was happening. It’s a very ageist kind of business.” Nevertheless, she adds, “I think it’s a very good album. I think it’s timeless.” Now, after years of being a sought-after rarity, this gem in the Sinatra-Hazlewood canon can finally get its due.

Five decades later, Nancy’s legacy only continues to grow, as new generations discover her impressive catalog (which boasts nearly 20 studio albums – her duets with Hazlewood among them – and dozens of charting singles, including the theme song to the 1967 James Bond film, You Only Live Twice). In 2020, Sinatra was recognized by her peers when “These Boots Are Made For Walkin’” was inducted into the GRAMMY® Hall of Fame. That same year, Sinatra partnered with Light in the Attic for Nancy Sinatra: Start Walkin’ 1965-1976, a definitive survey of her most prolific period. LITA has also reissued Sinatra’s classic debut, Boots, and her iconic, 1968 album with Lee Hazlewood, Nancy & Lee. The label looks forward to celebrating Nancy over the coming years with a variety of special releases, exclusive merchandise, and more.

Before he co-founded the legendary Sunday afternoon event Body & Soul with fellow New York DJs Danny Krivit and Francois Kevorkian in 1996, Joaquin "Joe" Claussell was the driving force behind Instant House, an eclectic production outift who released a series of uplifting deep house records, several of which were spun by David Mancuso at the 90s iteration of his influential Loft parties.

In 1993, Instant House released their deepest single, Lost Horizons, through Jungle Sounds Recordings. The A-side, ‘Lost Horizons (The Mind Travel Saturday Night Sunday Morning Mix)’ is a seventeen-minute and twenty-second sojourn into the vibrant club sounds of early 90s NYC. Driven by a Latin-accented man-machine beat that marches into infinity, it comes backed by two shorter mixes, ‘Lost Horizons’ and ‘Lost Horizons (Percussion Bonus)’. Twenty-nine years later, Isle of Jura presents an official vinyl and digital reissue of this slow-burning deep cut.

The Instant House story begins in the late 80s at Dance Tracks, an East Village record store established by the businessman, DJ, and graphic designer Stan Hatzakis. Patronised by New York trendsetters like Frankie Knuckles and Larry Levan, Dance Tracks was considered one of the world's best underground dance music retailers.

During the winter of 1991, Stan got together with one of his best customers, Tony Confusione, to make music. A wall street guy by day and a keyboardist by night, Tony was also a serious DJ. Not long after their first recording sessions, they invited another Dance Tracks fixture, Joaquin "Joe" Claussell, to join them in Tony’s state-of-the-art home studio in Long Island. He brought a vibrant, percussive edge to the sample-based tracks Stan and Tony were cooking up. Emboldened, the three DJs began recording together as Instant House. That year, they released the Dance Trax EP.

In 1992, after Instant House had dropped two certified classics, 'Over' and 'Awade', for Jungle Sounds Records, Stan exited the group and sold Dance Tracks to Joe and his business partner, Stefan Prescott. Following Stan's departure, Joe and Tony headed into the studio for a special recording session. “I just remember how powerful the connection was while we were making that record,” explains Joe, recalling the creation of ‘Lost Horizons (The Mind Travel Saturday Night Sunday Morning Mix)’. “It was a very spiritual encounter in the studio.”

While laying out the drum patterns, sound effects, and arrangement, Joe explained the vibe to Tony, who played the lush cosmic chords and an effortless keyboard saxophone line over the top. “That was Tony completely feeling himself,” Joe reflects. “He performed majestically.”

After the release of the Lost Horizons 12”, Joe received a phone call from Cisco International Corp. A plane flight later, he was sitting in their label offices in Tokyo, talking to a senior record executive who wanted to introduce Lost Horizons to Japan. “What they were primarily doing at the time was pressing classical records - we’re talking thousand dollar plus classical reissues - and they wanted to license and distribute Lost Horizons,” Joe remembers. Three years later, Joe and Tony released 'Asking Forgiveness', their final 12” as Instant House, before parting ways with full hearts.

In the context of his career as a DJ, remixer, and producer, Joe is known for long songs and compositions. As Lost Horizons illustrates, he’s carried that impulse with him since his foundational days. “When I produce, I don’t believe in the beginning or endpoint of anything,” Joe explains. “I really despise the rules. To me, that’s not true to the art of creation. I just believe there is a flow in creation. When we were making music in the 90s, we were restricted by format, but that record could have gone on forever.”

The 12” is housed in a full sleeve jacket by Bradley Pinkerton based on the original release design.

As the sun sets on a quaint East Nashville house, a young man bares a piece of his soul. Facing the camera, sporting a silky suit jacket/shirt/slacks/fingerless gloves ensemble that announces "singer" before he's even opened his mouth, Lee Tracy Johnson settles onto his stage, the front yard. He sways to the dirge-like drum machine pulse of a synth-soaked slow jam, extends his arms as if gaining his balance, and croons in affecting, fragile earnest, "I need your love… oh baby…"

Dogs in the yard next door begin barking. A mysterious cardboard robot figure, beamed in from galaxies unknown and affixed to a tree, is less vocal. Lee doesn't acknowledge either's presence. He's busy feeling it, arms and hands gesticulating. His voice rises in falsetto over the now-quiet dogs, over the ambient noise from the street that seeps into the handheld camcorder's microphone, over the recording of his own voice played back from a boombox off-camera. After six minutes the single, continuous shot ends. In this intimate creative universe there are no re-takes. There are many more music videos to shoot, and as Lee later puts it, "The first time you do it is actually the best. Because you can never get that again. You expressing yourself from within."

"I Need Your Love" dates from a lost heyday. From some time in the '80s or early '90s, when Lee Tracy (as he was known in performance) and his music partner/producer/manager Isaac Manning committed hours upon hours of their sonic and visual ideas to tape. Embracing drum machines and synthesizers – electronics that made their personal futurism palpable – they recorded exclusively at home, live in a room into a simple cassette deck. Soul, funk, electro and new wave informed their songs, yet Lee and Isaac eschewed the confinement of conventional categories and genres, preferring to let experimentation guide them.

"Anytime somebody put out a new record they had the same instruments or the same sound," explains Isaac. "So I basically wanted to find something that's really gonna stand out away from all of the rest of 'em." Their ethos meant that every idea they came up with was at least worth trying: echoed out half-rapped exhortations over frantic techno-style beats, gospel synth soul, modal electro-funk, oddball pop reinterpretations, emo AOR balladry, nods to Prince and the Fat Boys, or arrangements that might collapse mid-song into a mess of arcade game-ish blips before rallying to reach the finish line. All of it conjoined by consistent tape hiss, and most vitally, Lee's chameleonic voice, which managed to wildly shape shift and still evoke something sincere – whether toggling between falsetto and tenor exalting Jesus's return, or punctuating a melismatic romantic adlib with a succinct, "We all know how it feels to be alone."

"People think we went to a studio," says Isaac derisively. "We never went to no studio. We didn't have the money to go to no studio! We did this stuff at home. I shot videos in my front yard with whatever we could to get things together." Sometimes Isaac would just put on an instrumental record, be it "Planet Rock" or "Don't Cry For Me Argentina" (from Evita), press "record," and let Lee improvise over it, yielding peculiar love songs, would-be patriotic anthems, or Elvis Presley or Marilyn Monroe tributes. Technical limitations and a lack of professional polish never dissuaded them. They believed they were onto something.

"That struggle," Isaac says, "made that sound sound good to me."

In the parlance of modern music criticism Lee and Isaac's dizzying DIY efforts would inevitably be described as "outsider." But "outsider" carries the burden of untold additional layers of meaning if you're Black and from the South, creating on a budget, and trying to get someone, anyone within the country music capital of the world to take your vision seriously. "What category should we put it in?" Isaac asks rhetorically. "I don't know. All I know is feeling. I ain't gonna name it nothing. It's music. If it grabs your soul and touch your heart that's what it basically is supposed to do."

=

Born in 1963, the baby boy of nine siblings, Lee Tracy spent his earliest years living amidst the shotgun houses on Nashville's south side. "We was poor, man!" he says, recalling the outhouse his family used for a bathroom and the blocks of ice they kept in the kitchen to chill perishables. "But I actually don't think I really realized I was in poverty until I got grown and started thinking about it." Lee's mom worked at the Holiday Inn; his dad did whatever he had to do, from selling fruit from a horse drawn cart to bootlegging. "We didn't have much," Lee continues, "but my mother and my father got us the things we needed, the clothes on our back." By the end of the decade with the city's urban renewal programs razing entire neighborhoods to accommodate construction of the Interstate, the family moved to Edgehill Projects. Lee remembers music and art as a constant source of inspiration for he and his brothers and sisters – especially after seeing the Jackson 5 perform on Ed Sullivan. "As a small child I just knew that was what I wanted to do."

His older brother Don began musically mentoring him, introducing Lee to a variety of instruments and sounds. "He would never play one particular type of music, like R&B," says Lee. "I was surrounded by jazz, hard rock and roll, easy listening, gospel, reggae, country music; I mean I was a sponge absorbing all of that." Lee taught himself to play drums by beating on cardboard boxes, gaining a rep around the way for his timekeeping, and his singing voice. Emulating his favorites, Earth Wind & Fire and Cameo, he formed groups with other kids with era-evocative band names like Concept and TNT Connection, and emerged as the leader of disciplined rehearsals. "I made them practice," says Lee. "We practiced and practiced and practiced. Because I wanted that perfection." By high school the most accomplished of these bands would take top prize in a prominent local talent show. It was a big moment for Lee, and he felt ready to take things to the next level. But his band-mates had other ideas.

"I don't know what happened," he says, still miffed at the memory. "It must have blew they mind after we won and people started showing notice, because it's like everybody quit! I was like, where the hell did everybody go?" Lee had always made a point of interrogating prospective musicians about their intentions before joining his groups: were they really serious or just looking for a way to pick up girls? Now he understood even more the importance of finding a collaborator just as committed to the music as he was.

=

Isaac Manning had spent much of his life immersed in music and the arts – singing in the church choir with his family on Nashville's north side, writing, painting, dancing, and working various gigs within the entertainment industry. After serving in the armed forces, in the early '70s he ran The Teenage Place, a music and performance venue that catered to the local youth. But he was forced out of town when word of one of his recreational routines created a stir beyond the safe haven of his bohemian circles.

"I was growing marijuana," Isaac explains. "It wasn't no business, I was smoking it myself… I would put marijuana in scrambled eggs, cornbread and stuff." His weed use originated as a form of self-medication to combat severe tooth pain. But when he began sharing it with some of the other young people he hung out with, some of who just so happened to be the kids of Nashville politicians, the cops came calling. "When I got busted," he remembers, "they were talking about how they were gonna get rid of me because they didn't want me saying nothing about they children because of the politics and stuff. So I got my family, took two raggedy cars, and left Nashville and went to Vegas."

Out in the desert, Isaac happened to meet Chubby Checker of "The Twist" fame while the singer was gigging at The Flamingo. Impressed by Isaac's zeal, Checker invited him to go on the road with him as his tour manager/roadie/valet. The experience gave Isaac a window into a part of the entertainment world he'd never encountered – a glimpse of what a true pop act's audience looked like. "Chubby Checker, none of his shows were played for Black folks," he remembers. "All his gigs were done at high-class white people areas." Returning home after a few years with Chubby, Isaac was properly motivated to make it in Music City. He began writing songs and scouting around Nashville for local talent anywhere he could find it with an expressed goal: "Find someone who can deliver your songs the way you want 'em delivered and make people feel what you want them to feel."

One day while walking through Edgehill Projects Isaac heard someone playing the drums in a way that made him stop and take notice. "The music was so tight, just the drums made me feel like, oh I'm-a find this person," he recalls. "So I circled through the projects until I found who it was.

"That's how I met him – Lee Tracy. When I found him and he started singing and stuff, I said, ohhh, this is somebody different."

=

Theirs was a true complementary partnership: young Lee possessed the raw talent, the older Isaac the belief. "He's really the only one besides my brother and my family that really seen the potential in me," says Lee. "He made me see that I could do it."

Isaac long being a night owl, his house also made for a fertile collaborative environment – a space where there always seemed to be a new piece of his visual art on display: paintings, illustrations, and dolls and figures (including an enigmatic cardboard robot). Lee and Issac would hang out together and talk, listen to music, conjure ideas, and smoke the herb Isaac had resumed growing in his yard. "It got to where I could trust him, he could trust me," Isaac says of their bond. They also worked together for hours on drawings, spreading larges rolls of paper on the walls and sketching faces with abstract patterns and imagery: alien-like beings, tri-horned horse heads, inverted Janus-like characters where one visage blurred into the other.

Soon it became apparent that they didn't need other collaborators; self-sufficiency was the natural way forward. At Isaac's behest Lee, already fed up with dealing with band musicians, began playing around with a poly-sonic Yamaha keyboard at the local music store. "It had everything on it – trumpet, bass, drums, organ," remembers Lee. "And that's when I started recording my own stuff."

The technology afforded Lee the flexibility and independence he craved, setting him on a path other bedroom musicians and producers around the world were simultaneously following through the '80s into the early '90s. Saving up money from day jobs, he eventually supplemented the Yamaha Isaac had gotten him with Roland and Casio drum machines and a Moog. Lee was living in an apartment in Hillside at that point caring for his dad, who'd been partially paralyzed since early in life. In the evenings up in his second floor room, the music put him in a zone where he could tune out everything and lose himself in his ideas.

"Oh I loved it," he recalls. "I would really experiment with the instruments and use a lot of different sound effects. I was looking for something nobody else had. I wanted something totally different. And once I found the sound I was looking for, I would just smoke me a good joint and just let it go, hit the record button." More potent a creative stimulant than even Isaac's weed was the holistic flow and spontaneity of recording. Between sessions at Isaac's place and Lee's apartment, their volume of output quickly ballooned.

"We was always recording," says Lee. "That's why we have so much music. Even when I went to Isaac's and we start creating, I get home, my mind is racing, I gotta start creating, creating, creating. I remember there were times when I took a 90-minute tape from front to back and just filled it up."

"We never practiced," says Isaac. "See, that was just so odd about the whole thing. I could relate to him, and tell him about the songs I had ideas for and everything and stuff. And then he would bring it back or whatever, and we'd get together and put it down." Once the taskmaster hell bent on rehearsing, Lee had flipped a full 180. Perfection was no longer an aspiration, but the enemy of inspiration.

"I seen where practicing and practicing got me," says Lee. "A lot of musicians you get to playing and they gotta stop, they have to analyze the music. But while you analyzing you losing a lot of the greatness of what you creating. Stop analyzing what you play, just play! And it'll all take shape."

=

"I hope you understood the beginning of the record because this was invented from a dream I had today… (You tell me, I'll tell you, we'll figure it out together)" – Lee Tracy and Isaac Manning, "Hope You Understand"

Lee lets loose a maniacal cackle when he acknowledges that the material that he and Isaac recorded was by anyone's estimation pretty out there. It's the same laugh that commences "Hope You Understand" – a chaotic transmission that encapsulates the duality at the heart of their music: a stated desire to reach people and a compulsion to go as leftfield as they saw fit.

"We just did it," says Lee. "We cut the music on and cut loose. I don't sit around and write. I do it by listening, get a feeling, play the music, and the lyrics and stuff just come out of me."

The approach proved adaptable to interpreting other artists' material. While recording a cover of Whitney Houston's pop ballad "Saving All My Love For You," Lee played Whitney's version in his headphones as he laid down his own vocals – partially following the lyrics, partially using them as a departure point. The end result is barely recognizable compared with the original, Lee and Isaac having switched up the time signature and reinvented the melody along the way towards morphing a slick mainstream radio standard into something that sounds solely their own.

"I really used that song to get me started," says Lee. "Then I said, well I need something else, something is missing. Something just came over me. That's when I came up with 'Is It What You Want.'"

The song would become the centerpiece of Lee and Isaac's repertoire. Pushed along by a percolating metronomic Rhythm King style beat somewhere between a military march and a samba, "Is It What You Want" finds Lee pleading the sincerity of his commitment to a potential love interest embellished by vocal tics and hiccups subtlely reminiscent of his childhood hero MJ. Absent chord changes, only synth riffs gliding in and out like apparitions, the song achieves a lingering lo-fi power that leaves you feeling like it's still playing, somewhere, even after the fade out.

"I don't know, it's like a real spiritual song," Lee reflects. "But it's not just spiritual. To me the more I listen to it it's like about everything that you do in your everyday life, period. Is it what you want? Do you want a car or you don't want a car? Do you want Jesus or do you want the Devil? It's basically asking you the question. Can't nobody answer the question but you yourself."

In 1989 Lee won a lawsuit stemming from injuries sustained from a fight he'd gotten into. He took part of the settlement money and with Isaac pressed up "Saving All My Love For You" b/w "Is It What You Want" as a 45 single. Isaac christened the label One Chance Records. "Because that's all we wanted," he says with a laugh, "one chance."

Isaac sent the record out to radio stations and major labels, hoping for it to make enough noise to get picked up nationally. But the response he and Lee were hoping for never materialized. According to Isaac the closest the single got to getting played on the radio is when a disk jock from a local station made a highly unusual announcement on air: "The dude said on the radio, 107.5 – 'We are not gonna play 'Is It What You Want.' We cracked up! Wow, that's deep.

"It was a whole racist thing that was going on," he reflects. "So we just looked over and kept on going. That was it. That was about the way it goes… If you were Black and you were living in Nashville and stuff, that's the way you got treated." Isaac already knew as much from all the times he'd brought he and Lee's tapes (even their cache of country music tunes) over to Music Row to try to drum up interest to no avail.

"Isaac, he really worked his ass off," says Lee. "He probably been to every record place down on Music Row." Nashville's famed recording and music business corridor wasn't but a few blocks from where Lee grew up. Close enough, he remembers, for him to ride his bike along its back alleys and stumble upon the occasional random treasure, like a discarded box of harmonicas. Getting in through the front door, however, still felt a world away.

"I just don't think at the time our music fell into a category for them," he concedes. "It was before its time."

=

Lee stopped making music some time in the latter part of the '90s, around the time his mom passed away and life became increasingly tough to manage. "When my mother died I had a nervous breakdown," he says, "So I shut down for a long time. I was in such a sadness frame of mind. That's why nobody seen me. I had just disappeared off the map." He fell out of touch with Isaac, and in an indication of just how bad things had gotten for him, lost track of all the recordings they'd made together. Music became a distant memory.

Fortunately, Isaac kept the faith. In a self-published collection of his poetry – paeans to some of his favorite entertainment and public figures entitled Friends and Dick Clark – he'd written that he believed "music has a life of its own." But his prescience and presence of mind were truly manifested in the fact that he kept an archive of he and Lee's work. As perfectly imperfect as "Is It What You Want" now sounds in a post-Personal Space world, Lee and Isaac's lone official release was in fact just a taste. The bulk of the Is It What You Want album is culled from the pair's essentially unheard home recordings – complete songs, half-realized experiments, Isaac's blue monologues and pronouncements et al – compiled, mixed and programmed in the loose and impulsive creative spirit of their regular get-togethers from decades ago. The rest of us, it seems, may have finally caught up to them.

On the prospect of at long last reaching a wider audience, Isaac says simply, "I been trying for a long time, it feels good." Ever the survivor, he adds, "The only way I know how to make it to the top is to keep climbing. If one leg break on the ladder, hey, you gotta fix it and keep on going… That's where I be at. I'll kill death to make it out there."

For Lee it all feels akin to a personal resurrection: "It's like I was in a tomb and the tomb was opened and I'm back… Man, it feels so great. I feel like I'm gonna jump out of my skin." Success at this stage of his life, he realizes, probably means something different than what it did back when he was singing and dancing in Isaac's front yard. "What I really mean by 'making it,'" he explains isn't just the music being heard but, "the story being told."

Occasionally Lee will pull up "Is It What You Want" on YouTube on his phone, put on his headphones, and listen. He remembers the first time he heard his recorded voice. How surreal it was, how he thought to himself, "Is that really me?" What would he say to that younger version of himself now?

"I would probably tell myself, hang in there, don't give up. Keep striving for the goal. And everything will work out."

Despite what's printed on the record label, sometimes you do get more than one chance.

We are proud to present the official 40-year anniversary issue of Imagination's debut album Shake It. Remastered from original tapes, this deluxe edition is a double vinyl LP with gatefold sleeve, featuring a newly available lyric insert.

Shake It covers a diverse spectrum of styles and sounds, all combining to a unique soulful amalgam that ranges from sunshine AOR funk ("Mornin' Lights") and leftfield disco ("Strawberry Wine") to psychy, epic, downtempo, vocoder grooves ("Can't Stand Without You") and more. Originally released in 1980, it fast became one of Germany's most collectible privately-pressed LPs.

Shake It was the creation of young thoroughbreds working hard on becoming professional musicians, trying to take their next big step in the music business. Starting out as a pure jazz-rock combo in the mid '70s (as we hear on the recently released lost studio tapes, I'm Always Right (The WDR Tapes 1977)) Imagination left behind their instrumental roots, incorporating new musical trends and styles.

Uwe Ziss, their saxophonist and flutist, became one of two lead singers in Imagination. He would be joined by the younger Roger Mork, a student of original guitarist Willi Hövelmann, around 1979. Roger's voice would best be heard on the aforementioned "Mornin' Lights", one of the various standout tracks on Shake It. However, there is much more that this album offers.

There are brilliant soulful soft rock ballads like "Clouds Flee Before The Wind" and "Waitin for your Call" or the catchy "California" song that switches from a dreamy Westcoast sound (as the title implies) to danceable rhythm & blues with equal ease. Last but not least, we have unearthed three unissued bonus cuts. On one, the demo take of "Clouds Flee Before The Wind", we hear, for the first time ever, the original refrain of this song, which, for some strange reason, was taken out from the final mix on Shake It.

When all eight original songs were recorded and mastered in June, at the well-equipped West Aix-La-Chapelle studio, the stage was set for Imagination's long-desired career push. They'd initially press about 2500 copies of Shake It selling it mainly, locally, directly to their hometown fanbase in Düsseldorf. Meanwhile, their manager would attempt to arrange a record deal with a music label. Unfortunately, this became more difficult than expected. Negotiations with a smaller publishing company were made by Imagination, and Shake It was repressed on Nash Records in 1981 without their consent, under the false promises of a nationwide promotional tour which would never come to fruition. At the same time, the group would face a UK band under the same name achieving mainstream success, making it difficult (not to say entirely impossible) to perform as "Imagination". Though the band would remain active after Shake It, they'd split shortly after Nash's duplicitous reissue hit store shelves.

Luckily, through time, Shake It itself has remained worthwhile, creatively, for those who stumbled upon it and financially, too, becoming quite the sought after gem in record collecting circles. This deluxe anniversary double vinyl issue makes the LP available once again at a far more reasonable price, featuring the original, illustrious, eye-catching, Roy Lichtenstein-influenced banana art, as well as previously unavailable press pictures and more.

As the sun sets on a quaint East Nashville house, a young man bares a piece of his soul. Facing the camera, sporting a silky suit jacket/shirt/slacks/fingerless gloves ensemble that announces "singer" before he's even opened his mouth, Lee Tracy Johnson settles onto his stage, the front yard. He sways to the dirge-like drum machine pulse of a synth-soaked slow jam, extends his arms as if gaining his balance, and croons in affecting, fragile earnest, "I need your love… oh baby…"

Dogs in the yard next door begin barking. A mysterious cardboard robot figure, beamed in from galaxies unknown and affixed to a tree, is less vocal. Lee doesn't acknowledge either's presence. He's busy feeling it, arms and hands gesticulating. His voice rises in falsetto over the now-quiet dogs, over the ambient noise from the street that seeps into the handheld camcorder's microphone, over the recording of his own voice played back from a boombox off-camera. After six minutes the single, continuous shot ends. In this intimate creative universe there are no re-takes. There are many more music videos to shoot, and as Lee later puts it, "The first time you do it is actually the best. Because you can never get that again. You expressing yourself from within."

"I Need Your Love" dates from a lost heyday. From some time in the '80s or early '90s, when Lee Tracy (as he was known in performance) and his music partner/producer/manager Isaac Manning committed hours upon hours of their sonic and visual ideas to tape. Embracing drum machines and synthesizers – electronics that made their personal futurism palpable – they recorded exclusively at home, live in a room into a simple cassette deck. Soul, funk, electro and new wave informed their songs, yet Lee and Isaac eschewed the confinement of conventional categories and genres, preferring to let experimentation guide them.

"Anytime somebody put out a new record they had the same instruments or the same sound," explains Isaac. "So I basically wanted to find something that's really gonna stand out away from all of the rest of 'em." Their ethos meant that every idea they came up with was at least worth trying: echoed out half-rapped exhortations over frantic techno-style beats, gospel synth soul, modal electro-funk, oddball pop reinterpretations, emo AOR balladry, nods to Prince and the Fat Boys, or arrangements that might collapse mid-song into a mess of arcade game-ish blips before rallying to reach the finish line. All of it conjoined by consistent tape hiss, and most vitally, Lee's chameleonic voice, which managed to wildly shape shift and still evoke something sincere – whether toggling between falsetto and tenor exalting Jesus's return, or punctuating a melismatic romantic adlib with a succinct, "We all know how it feels to be alone."

"People think we went to a studio," says Isaac derisively. "We never went to no studio. We didn't have the money to go to no studio! We did this stuff at home. I shot videos in my front yard with whatever we could to get things together." Sometimes Isaac would just put on an instrumental record, be it "Planet Rock" or "Don't Cry For Me Argentina" (from Evita), press "record," and let Lee improvise over it, yielding peculiar love songs, would-be patriotic anthems, or Elvis Presley or Marilyn Monroe tributes. Technical limitations and a lack of professional polish never dissuaded them. They believed they were onto something.

"That struggle," Isaac says, "made that sound sound good to me."

In the parlance of modern music criticism Lee and Isaac's dizzying DIY efforts would inevitably be described as "outsider." But "outsider" carries the burden of untold additional layers of meaning if you're Black and from the South, creating on a budget, and trying to get someone, anyone within the country music capital of the world to take your vision seriously. "What category should we put it in?" Isaac asks rhetorically. "I don't know. All I know is feeling. I ain't gonna name it nothing. It's music. If it grabs your soul and touch your heart that's what it basically is supposed to do."

=

Born in 1963, the baby boy of nine siblings, Lee Tracy spent his earliest years living amidst the shotgun houses on Nashville's south side. "We was poor, man!" he says, recalling the outhouse his family used for a bathroom and the blocks of ice they kept in the kitchen to chill perishables. "But I actually don't think I really realized I was in poverty until I got grown and started thinking about it." Lee's mom worked at the Holiday Inn; his dad did whatever he had to do, from selling fruit from a horse drawn cart to bootlegging. "We didn't have much," Lee continues, "but my mother and my father got us the things we needed, the clothes on our back." By the end of the decade with the city's urban renewal programs razing entire neighborhoods to accommodate construction of the Interstate, the family moved to Edgehill Projects. Lee remembers music and art as a constant source of inspiration for he and his brothers and sisters – especially after seeing the Jackson 5 perform on Ed Sullivan. "As a small child I just knew that was what I wanted to do."

His older brother Don began musically mentoring him, introducing Lee to a variety of instruments and sounds. "He would never play one particular type of music, like R&B," says Lee. "I was surrounded by jazz, hard rock and roll, easy listening, gospel, reggae, country music; I mean I was a sponge absorbing all of that." Lee taught himself to play drums by beating on cardboard boxes, gaining a rep around the way for his timekeeping, and his singing voice. Emulating his favorites, Earth Wind & Fire and Cameo, he formed groups with other kids with era-evocative band names like Concept and TNT Connection, and emerged as the leader of disciplined rehearsals. "I made them practice," says Lee. "We practiced and practiced and practiced. Because I wanted that perfection." By high school the most accomplished of these bands would take top prize in a prominent local talent show. It was a big moment for Lee, and he felt ready to take things to the next level. But his band-mates had other ideas.

"I don't know what happened," he says, still miffed at the memory. "It must have blew they mind after we won and people started showing notice, because it's like everybody quit! I was like, where the hell did everybody go?" Lee had always made a point of interrogating prospective musicians about their intentions before joining his groups: were they really serious or just looking for a way to pick up girls? Now he understood even more the importance of finding a collaborator just as committed to the music as he was.

=

Isaac Manning had spent much of his life immersed in music and the arts – singing in the church choir with his family on Nashville's north side, writing, painting, dancing, and working various gigs within the entertainment industry. After serving in the armed forces, in the early '70s he ran The Teenage Place, a music and performance venue that catered to the local youth. But he was forced out of town when word of one of his recreational routines created a stir beyond the safe haven of his bohemian circles.

"I was growing marijuana," Isaac explains. "It wasn't no business, I was smoking it myself… I would put marijuana in scrambled eggs, cornbread and stuff." His weed use originated as a form of self-medication to combat severe tooth pain. But when he began sharing it with some of the other young people he hung out with, some of who just so happened to be the kids of Nashville politicians, the cops came calling. "When I got busted," he remembers, "they were talking about how they were gonna get rid of me because they didn't want me saying nothing about they children because of the politics and stuff. So I got my family, took two raggedy cars, and left Nashville and went to Vegas."

Out in the desert, Isaac happened to meet Chubby Checker of "The Twist" fame while the singer was gigging at The Flamingo. Impressed by Isaac's zeal, Checker invited him to go on the road with him as his tour manager/roadie/valet. The experience gave Isaac a window into a part of the entertainment world he'd never encountered – a glimpse of what a true pop act's audience looked like. "Chubby Checker, none of his shows were played for Black folks," he remembers. "All his gigs were done at high-class white people areas." Returning home after a few years with Chubby, Isaac was properly motivated to make it in Music City. He began writing songs and scouting around Nashville for local talent anywhere he could find it with an expressed goal: "Find someone who can deliver your songs the way you want 'em delivered and make people feel what you want them to feel."

One day while walking through Edgehill Projects Isaac heard someone playing the drums in a way that made him stop and take notice. "The music was so tight, just the drums made me feel like, oh I'm-a find this person," he recalls. "So I circled through the projects until I found who it was.

"That's how I met him – Lee Tracy. When I found him and he started singing and stuff, I said, ohhh, this is somebody different."

=

Theirs was a true complementary partnership: young Lee possessed the raw talent, the older Isaac the belief. "He's really the only one besides my brother and my family that really seen the potential in me," says Lee. "He made me see that I could do it."

Isaac long being a night owl, his house also made for a fertile collaborative environment – a space where there always seemed to be a new piece of his visual art on display: paintings, illustrations, and dolls and figures (including an enigmatic cardboard robot). Lee and Issac would hang out together and talk, listen to music, conjure ideas, and smoke the herb Isaac had resumed growing in his yard. "It got to where I could trust him, he could trust me," Isaac says of their bond. They also worked together for hours on drawings, spreading larges rolls of paper on the walls and sketching faces with abstract patterns and imagery: alien-like beings, tri-horned horse heads, inverted Janus-like characters where one visage blurred into the other.

Soon it became apparent that they didn't need other collaborators; self-sufficiency was the natural way forward. At Isaac's behest Lee, already fed up with dealing with band musicians, began playing around with a poly-sonic Yamaha keyboard at the local music store. "It had everything on it – trumpet, bass, drums, organ," remembers Lee. "And that's when I started recording my own stuff."

The technology afforded Lee the flexibility and independence he craved, setting him on a path other bedroom musicians and producers around the world were simultaneously following through the '80s into the early '90s. Saving up money from day jobs, he eventually supplemented the Yamaha Isaac had gotten him with Roland and Casio drum machines and a Moog. Lee was living in an apartment in Hillside at that point caring for his dad, who'd been partially paralyzed since early in life. In the evenings up in his second floor room, the music put him in a zone where he could tune out everything and lose himself in his ideas.

"Oh I loved it," he recalls. "I would really experiment with the instruments and use a lot of different sound effects. I was looking for something nobody else had. I wanted something totally different. And once I found the sound I was looking for, I would just smoke me a good joint and just let it go, hit the record button." More potent a creative stimulant than even Isaac's weed was the holistic flow and spontaneity of recording. Between sessions at Isaac's place and Lee's apartment, their volume of output quickly ballooned.

"We was always recording," says Lee. "That's why we have so much music. Even when I went to Isaac's and we start creating, I get home, my mind is racing, I gotta start creating, creating, creating. I remember there were times when I took a 90-minute tape from front to back and just filled it up."

"We never practiced," says Isaac. "See, that was just so odd about the whole thing. I could relate to him, and tell him about the songs I had ideas for and everything and stuff. And then he would bring it back or whatever, and we'd get together and put it down." Once the taskmaster hell bent on rehearsing, Lee had flipped a full 180. Perfection was no longer an aspiration, but the enemy of inspiration.

"I seen where practicing and practicing got me," says Lee. "A lot of musicians you get to playing and they gotta stop, they have to analyze the music. But while you analyzing you losing a lot of the greatness of what you creating. Stop analyzing what you play, just play! And it'll all take shape."

=

"I hope you understood the beginning of the record because this was invented from a dream I had today… (You tell me, I'll tell you, we'll figure it out together)" – Lee Tracy and Isaac Manning, "Hope You Understand"

Lee lets loose a maniacal cackle when he acknowledges that the material that he and Isaac recorded was by anyone's estimation pretty out there. It's the same laugh that commences "Hope You Understand" – a chaotic transmission that encapsulates the duality at the heart of their music: a stated desire to reach people and a compulsion to go as leftfield as they saw fit.

"We just did it," says Lee. "We cut the music on and cut loose. I don't sit around and write. I do it by listening, get a feeling, play the music, and the lyrics and stuff just come out of me."

The approach proved adaptable to interpreting other artists' material. While recording a cover of Whitney Houston's pop ballad "Saving All My Love For You," Lee played Whitney's version in his headphones as he laid down his own vocals – partially following the lyrics, partially using them as a departure point. The end result is barely recognizable compared with the original, Lee and Isaac having switched up the time signature and reinvented the melody along the way towards morphing a slick mainstream radio standard into something that sounds solely their own.

"I really used that song to get me started," says Lee. "Then I said, well I need something else, something is missing. Something just came over me. That's when I came up with 'Is It What You Want.'"

The song would become the centerpiece of Lee and Isaac's repertoire. Pushed along by a percolating metronomic Rhythm King style beat somewhere between a military march and a samba, "Is It What You Want" finds Lee pleading the sincerity of his commitment to a potential love interest embellished by vocal tics and hiccups subtlely reminiscent of his childhood hero MJ. Absent chord changes, only synth riffs gliding in and out like apparitions, the song achieves a lingering lo-fi power that leaves you feeling like it's still playing, somewhere, even after the fade out.

"I don't know, it's like a real spiritual song," Lee reflects. "But it's not just spiritual. To me the more I listen to it it's like about everything that you do in your everyday life, period. Is it what you want? Do you want a car or you don't want a car? Do you want Jesus or do you want the Devil? It's basically asking you the question. Can't nobody answer the question but you yourself."

In 1989 Lee won a lawsuit stemming from injuries sustained from a fight he'd gotten into. He took part of the settlement money and with Isaac pressed up "Saving All My Love For You" b/w "Is It What You Want" as a 45 single. Isaac christened the label One Chance Records. "Because that's all we wanted," he says with a laugh, "one chance."

Isaac sent the record out to radio stations and major labels, hoping for it to make enough noise to get picked up nationally. But the response he and Lee were hoping for never materialized. According to Isaac the closest the single got to getting played on the radio is when a disk jock from a local station made a highly unusual announcement on air: "The dude said on the radio, 107.5 – 'We are not gonna play 'Is It What You Want.' We cracked up! Wow, that's deep.

"It was a whole racist thing that was going on," he reflects. "So we just looked over and kept on going. That was it. That was about the way it goes… If you were Black and you were living in Nashville and stuff, that's the way you got treated." Isaac already knew as much from all the times he'd brought he and Lee's tapes (even their cache of country music tunes) over to Music Row to try to drum up interest to no avail.

"Isaac, he really worked his ass off," says Lee. "He probably been to every record place down on Music Row." Nashville's famed recording and music business corridor wasn't but a few blocks from where Lee grew up. Close enough, he remembers, for him to ride his bike along its back alleys and stumble upon the occasional random treasure, like a discarded box of harmonicas. Getting in through the front door, however, still felt a world away.

"I just don't think at the time our music fell into a category for them," he concedes. "It was before its time."

=

Lee stopped making music some time in the latter part of the '90s, around the time his mom passed away and life became increasingly tough to manage. "When my mother died I had a nervous breakdown," he says, "So I shut down for a long time. I was in such a sadness frame of mind. That's why nobody seen me. I had just disappeared off the map." He fell out of touch with Isaac, and in an indication of just how bad things had gotten for him, lost track of all the recordings they'd made together. Music became a distant memory.

Fortunately, Isaac kept the faith. In a self-published collection of his poetry – paeans to some of his favorite entertainment and public figures entitled Friends and Dick Clark – he'd written that he believed "music has a life of its own." But his prescience and presence of mind were truly manifested in the fact that he kept an archive of he and Lee's work. As perfectly imperfect as "Is It What You Want" now sounds in a post-Personal Space world, Lee and Isaac's lone official release was in fact just a taste. The bulk of the Is It What You Want album is culled from the pair's essentially unheard home recordings – complete songs, half-realized experiments, Isaac's blue monologues and pronouncements et al – compiled, mixed and programmed in the loose and impulsive creative spirit of their regular get-togethers from decades ago. The rest of us, it seems, may have finally caught up to them.

On the prospect of at long last reaching a wider audience, Isaac says simply, "I been trying for a long time, it feels good." Ever the survivor, he adds, "The only way I know how to make it to the top is to keep climbing. If one leg break on the ladder, hey, you gotta fix it and keep on going… That's where I be at. I'll kill death to make it out there."

For Lee it all feels akin to a personal resurrection: "It's like I was in a tomb and the tomb was opened and I'm back… Man, it feels so great. I feel like I'm gonna jump out of my skin." Success at this stage of his life, he realizes, probably means something different than what it did back when he was singing and dancing in Isaac's front yard. "What I really mean by 'making it,'" he explains isn't just the music being heard but, "the story being told."

Occasionally Lee will pull up "Is It What You Want" on YouTube on his phone, put on his headphones, and listen. He remembers the first time he heard his recorded voice. How surreal it was, how he thought to himself, "Is that really me?" What would he say to that younger version of himself now?

"I would probably tell myself, hang in there, don't give up. Keep striving for the goal. And everything will work out."

Despite what's printed on the record label, sometimes you do get more than one chance.

First time vinyl issue of this 1997 Mego classic. General Magic, the duo of Ramon Bauer and Andi Pieper, who, alongside Pita, first pioneered the classic Mego sound on the Fridge Trax 12” in 1995. The following year proved to be formulative when Mego released Frantz alongside a slew of game changing releases from Farmers Manuel, Pita and Fennesz.

Originally released as MEGO 010 Frantz presented a thrilling digression from what was in vogue in music at the time. This was the advent of portable computing and the Vienna based label was at the forefront of harnessing the potential of audio within this new technology.

At once smart and playful these releases reconfigured once disparate genres such as industrial, techno, glitch and the avant garde, folding them into a bright, audacious and euphoric new system of sound. The music on Frantz (named after the Austrian skier, Franz Klammer) still pushes the boundaries of acceptable audio constructions with it’s startling fried electricity and twisted sensibility. The sense of joy in the audio discovery is palatable as techno laced explorations unfold a variety of unexpected and unprecedented sonic manoeuvres.

Tyrell launches proceedings as schizophrenic stuttering handclaps simultaneously slice into pieces as it propels forward. The bending of the brain is on display with the likes of ‘Obvious’ and ‘Close, But Not Quien’. Temko skewers digital debris in which a ghost melody comes to the fore. Brazen rhythms mobilize the tracks ‘No Ketting’ and ‘Bonden’ whilst the Official GM Ski-WM Theme is a short stab of priceless pop wizardry skittering about a strange exhilarating melody in homage to the finest of winter activities.

This reissue also includes ‘Die Mondlandung’ which was released as a 12” in 1995 (MEGO 002), and has never been released anywhere, physical or digital, since. This track is based on the live German TV coverage of the moon landing. An apt theme for the abundance of exploration contained within this classic release.

--

About Frantz ... and Peter (by Ramon Bauer & Andi Pieper, November 2021):

Listening to the test pressings of the remastered Frantz album for the first time on vinyl, 25 years after the original release on the then still young Mego label in 1997, felt like uncovering an ancient artefact. In those exciting days during the mid-1990s, together with the late Peter Rehberg, we founded a label called Mego to further explore the wonders of electronic music. And that is what we did for the next 10 years until everything became too much with the label in somewhat rough waters. So we dropped out of music business and pursued different things. It was Peter who continued producing and releasing music with the restarted label, now called Editions Mego. Until his unexpected death in July 2021, he developed Editions Mego into the grown-up and much acclaimed outfit for which it is known today. We will forever miss Peter’s inspiring personality and his uncompromising creativity. His legacy will live on in his music and in the vast and rich Mego and eMego catalogues. We are humbled and proud to have played a role in those formative years of the label.

Peter approached us in October 2020 with the idea to do a vinyl reissue of Frantz, just in time for the 25 year anniversary of its release. That came as a complete surprise for us, General Magic had not released any music or performed live for over 15 years. Anyway, we were delighted with the prospect of having that General Magic "classic" remastered (by the exceptional Russell Haswell) and released for the first time on vinyl on Editions Mego.

Frantz is a collection of tracks that we produced in 1995 and 1996 right after recording “Fridge Trax” (with Peter) and “Die Mondlandung” (which comes as a bonus track on this reissue). At that time, we started to migrate our analogue gear to 64 MB RAM computers and used almost every other digital thing that yielded a sound by any means. We even deliberately crashed our then so-called "Powerbooks" and scratched self-produced CD-Rs until they produced previously unheard sounds. Real time audio processing with computers was barely a thing back then (before SuperCollider was released), but cheerful massaging of sound files yielded interesting results and the future looked bright. Listening to Frantz today, with decades of distance, there are some parts that might appear dated by modern standards, but the energy and the general magic of that period is well captured.

All Frantz tracks were produced in Andi's studio in Berlin and at Mego Vienna. The Mego studio/office was a vivid place located in an old factory on the outskirts of Vienna. We shared the place with Tina Frank, who created most of the early Mego covers and videos. Other artists, musicians and friends were hanging out there almost every day. Many ideas on Frantz are a product of that particular environment. “Mimi”, for example, is based on a field recording in the backyard of the factory, where we also shot the video for “Tyrell”. “11.25” contains sounds from the Prague train station we regularly passed through on the night train travelling between Vienna and Berlin. Other sounds were sourced from the early internet and mangled on the computer, carefully preserving those early audio codec artefacts. While working on the Frantz tracks at the Mego Vienna studio, Peter was usually around, as he was literally working and living there. And so, of course, he also made an impact on that album: It might not be widely known but Peter even appeared on Frantz contributing his voice to the choir on “The Official Ski WM Theme”.

Let there be Frantz!

Top, the chart-topping second studio album from the still rising, Multi-Platinum rap superstar YoungBoy Never Broke Again and featuring the hit singles ‘Callin (feat. Snoop Dogg)’, ‘Kacey Talk’ & ‘All In’, is out on vinyl on January 28th 2022.

With 76 total RIAA certifications and over 72.5M certified units under his belt thus far, YoungBoy Never Broke Again is without question among the landmark hip-hop artists of this or any era. 2020 and 2021 have both seen him become America’s #1 most video on demand streamed artist of any genre. His second studio Album, Top, is officially platinum certified after an explosive debut at #1 on the SoundScan/Billboard 200 upon its September 2020 release. YoungBoy was also last year’s #3 most audio on demand streamed artist industrywide and is currently #5 for 2021 thus far and it serves as a testament to his remarkable talent and versatility, showcasing the Baton Rouge, LA-native’s true heart & soul.

38 Baby 2, the 17-song sequel to the 2016 breakout mixtape, 38 Baby, from the still rising, Multi-Platinum rap superstar YoungBoy Never Broke Again and featuring the hit tracks ‘Ten Talk’, ‘Thug Of Spades (feat. DaBaby)’ & ‘Nawfside’, is out on vinyl on January 28th 2022.

With 76 total RIAA certifications and over 72.5M certified units under his belt thus far, YoungBoy Never Broke Again is without question among the landmark hip-hop artists of this or any era. 2020 and 2021 have both seen him become America’s #1 most video on demand streamed artist of any genre. His second studio Album, Top, is officially platinum certified after an explosive debut at #1 on the SoundScan/Billboard 200 upon its September 2020 release. YoungBoy was also last year’s #3 most audio on demand streamed artist industrywide and is currently #5 for 2021 thus far and it serves as a testament to his remarkable talent and versatility, showcasing the Baton Rouge, LA-native’s true heart & soul.

Mouth Congress – friends Paul Bellini and Scott Thompson of Kids In The Hall fame - wrote and recorded hundreds of songs in the ‘80s with - out ever putting out a proper release. Alongside various cohorts and conspirators, the band drew on their experiences as gay men to craft hilariously crude punk songs that run the gamut of strange characters and taboo subject matter. Their rag tag approach to songwriting blended various styles from noisy punk to lo-fi new wave and DIY disco, all with a very gay bent. Without trying, they were surprisingly cutting edge.

Mouth Congress did dozens of live shows through the mid-80s that gained a reputation for being theatrical, combining props, sets, multiple costume changes, unusual song choices, guest stars, and Scott’s stand-up comedy. In 1988, they recorded a 7-song demo tape. The tracks were recorded quickly, as the Kids in the Hall were about to go to New York City to develop their material. Then, caught up in the excitement of the Kids in the Hall being signed to television, Mouth Congress activities slowed to a crawl.

In 2011, Paul dug out an old VHS tape of one of the live shows. The sight of one of the Kids in the Hall covered in sweat, writhing on stage like Iggy Pop, was something he felt comedy fans might enjoy seeing. Naturally, Scott agreed and they uploaded everything - over 600 recordings - onto Bandcamp. One day in 2019, Mike Sniper of Captured Tracks stumbled upon the Bandcamp page, got in touch, and suggested assembling a compilation of the best recordings to be officially released for the very first time.
Waiting for Henry is a collection of 29 tracks over 2 LPs with a booklet of interviews and ephemera from one of the ‘80s
last queercore bands.

Who is Henry? We don’t really know, but we certainly hope he shows up soon.

Neon Christ, the Atlanta hardcore luminaries founded by Alice in Chains singer William DuVall have announced the official release of 1984 for 17th September. This collaboration between Southern Lord Recordings/DVL Recordings was originally released on Record Store Day U.S.only, now to be made available more widely.

The package includes a full-colour gatefold sleeve and a 12-page oral history booklet featuring dozens of never-before-seen photographs. Heavyweight vinyl at 45 RPM for maximum fidelity.

Neon Christ formed in the fall of 1983 with William DuVall on guitar, Jimmy Demer on drums, Danny Lankford on bass, and Randy DuTeau on vocals. They made their debut in the early morning hours of New Year’s Day 1984. That March, they recorded their eponymous debut 10-song EP. Released in June ’84, the EP's songs exemplify the band's signature musical diversity, from DRI-style thrashers like "Parental Suppression" to the atmospheric improv of "After." A short east coast tour followed. On Labor Day 1984, the band recorded four tracks in the home studio of Nick Jameson, of Foghat fame. A few months later, "Ashes to Ashes" was included on the International Peace/War compilation released by MDC's R Radical Records, bringing the band worldwide exposure.

Neon Christ shared the stage with the luminaries of 80s hardcore including the Dead Kennedys, Circle Jerks, and Corrosion of Conformity. In 1985, the band added Shawn Devine on second guitar, as their sound and songs became slower, heavier, and more melodic. DuVall wrote an album's worth of songs in 1985, but only "Savior (Drawn In)" was ever recorded in what would be the band’s final studio session on December 26, 1985 (the master tapes were lost). Returning to the four-piece original lineup, the band played a handful of Atlanta shows and then took a break in March of 1986. A few months later, William moved to Santa Cruz, CA, to join BL’AST!, and Jimmy, Danny, and Randy formed Gardens of…William later founded jazz/punk/world improvisers No Walls. In 1999, he would form Comes With The Fall and move the band to Los Angeles, where he struck up a friendship and musical collaboration with Jerry Cantrell. William joined Alice in Chains as vocalist and guitarist in 2006. On February 2, 2008, Neon Christ reunited to headline the Ratlanta Punkfest 2.

To this day, the band members maintain a close friendship, as well as a desire to honour the legacy of the group. So when longtime fan Greg Anderson of Southern Lord contacted them about reissuing a deluxe edition of Neon Christ's 1984 sessions, "1984" quickly came to life. To remaster the original tapes using an all-analog process, William DuVall made multiple trips to Nashville to one of the few remaining studios maintaining the vintage technology to play and process the audio. Side one of "1984" features the original Neon Christ 7" EP, and side two contains the four songs of the Labor Day session

With their latest release, "Matasuna Records" brings together two songs from 1966 that were originally released on "J-V/Atlantic Records" & "ATCO Records". Now officially reissued for the first time on 7inch vinyl. Aside from the same release year, the two songs - a Northern Soul joint by "Cliff Nobles" and a Mod Jazz tune by "Russell Evans & The Nite Hawks" - seem to have little in common. However, both are delicacies for any dance floor and combine an irrepressible energy. The two songs thus fit perfectly together on this hot & fiery 45!

"My Love Is Getting Stronger" by "Cliff Nobles" on the A-side is not only a super rare soul gem whose original single cost at least $700 dollars. The song can also be considered one of the best (Northern) soul tunes. A grooving bass, infectious drums & bongos meet great orchestrated horns driven by Nobles' raw yet sweet voice. A smokin' soul cut for any dance floor.

The instrumental "The Bold" by "Russell Evans & The Nite Hawks" on the B-side brings out the same irrepressible energy. The deep bassline, drumbreaks and funky guitar riffs introduce this terrific song. A deep organ joins in perfect interplay and enchants the listener. A great groover that shouldn't leave any record box!

"Cliff Nobles", born in 1944 in "Groove Hill" (Alabama) got into singing in his high school choir in "Mobile" (Alabama). He also became the lead singer of a popular local group called "The Delroys". After school, he moved to Philadelphia to work on his career. He recorded 3 songs for "Atlantic Records", which went unnoticed. He later formed the band "Cliff Nobles & Co" in "Norristown" with "Benny Williams" (bass), "Bobby Tucker" (lead guitar) and "Tommy Soul" (drums).

Through demo tapes, Nobles came to the attention of producer "Jesse James", who began to write songs for the band and helped them get a contract with "Phil L.A. Of Soul" Records. The first release bombed, but the second single, "Love Is All Right/The Horse", brought success. Ironically, the instrumental B-side "The Horse," which Nobles didn't even perform on, became a huge hit. It reached #2 on the charts, sold over 1 million copies and was awarded a gold record by the R.I.A.A..

However, subsequent releases failed to match his success, and he retired from the music business in the early 1970s. Nobles died in October 2008 at the age of 67 in "Norristown", Pennsylvania.

Founded in 2010, Hussle’s All Money In made an epochal debut with its very first release, “THE MARATHON,” marking Hussle’s fifth official mixtape and follow-up to his introductory “BULLETS AIN’T GOT NO NAME” trilogy. Named among XXL’s “100 Best Mixtapes of 2010,” the collection was quickly followed by 2011’s “THE MARATHON CONTINUES” and then 2013’s “CRENSHAW.” Along with his work as a lead artist, Hussle has previously collaborated with a veritable who’s who of contemporary hip hop, including Kendrick Lamar, Drake, Rick Ross, YG, Ty Dolla Sign, Meek Mill, DJ Mustard, Young Thug and many more. As if his musical career and role as label boss weren’t enough, Hussle is also successful entrepreneur. In addition to The Marathon Clothing line and store, Hussle also owns a number of successful businesses including The Marathon Agency, SC Commercial Ventures, Proud 2 Pay, and of course, All Money In No Money
Out Records.



[b] 2 Rap Niggas [Explicit]

Originally released as a 12” single in 1982, ‘Every Brother Ain’t A Brother’ was the final record from Brooklyn multi-instrumentalist and producer Freddie Thompson’s Panaché band. Built around a fully cleared sampled bassline from ‘The Message’ by Grandmaster Flash & The Furious Five, ‘Every Brother Ain’t A Brother’ plays out like a summertime stroll through New York in the early 80s. The streets are full of excitement, but as the lyrics, written by vocalist Denise Williams (not to be confused with Deniece Williams of ‘Let’s Hear It For The Boy’ fame) make it clear, they’re dangerous as well.

Thirty-nine years later, Isle of Jura is proud to present the first official 12” reissue of ‘Every Brother Ain’t A Brother’. A cult classic from the disco-rap era, the reissue includes the original vocal and instrumental versions of ‘Every Brother Ain’t A Brother’ plus a Jura Soundsystem special version with additional live percussion.

Originally made up of Freddie, his wife, the singer Debra Thompson and keyboardist Douglas Glover, Panaché formed at the behest of a local disco DJ, Carl Nelson. In the wake of Chic’s early singles, Carl felt a French name would give Freddie a competitive edge. “He explained it to us that it was a French word for style and elegance. Panaché, a step above chic,” Freddie reflects.

Business minded, Freddie formed his own label, Roché Records and joined SIRMA - The Small Independent Music Manufacturers Association. “It was very hard for the independent manufacturers to get airplay and distribution at the time, so we all came together,” he remembers. Through SIRMA, Freddie met Joe and Sylvia Robinson from Sugar Hill Records, who several years later, let him sample ‘The Message’ for ‘Every Brother Ain’t A Brother’.

In 1979, Panaché scored some radioplay when they covered ‘Not On The Outside’ by ‘60s D.C R&B group The Moments. Emboldened, they brought onboard backing vocalists and recorded their only album. This Is Panache saw the band blurring the boundaries between soul, jazz-funk and disco and become a sought after collectible.

By 1982, Debra had stepped back, and one of Panaché’s backing singers was center stage, Denise Williams. “Denise was good with writing poetry,” says Freddie. "She had one called ‘Every Brother Ain’t A Brother’. It was about the unrest that was going on in the city at the time. I thought I could do something with that.”

After releasing ‘Every Brother Ain’t A Brother’ in 1982, Panaché quietly moved from center stage to behind the scenes. Over the last thirty-nine years, Freddie has continued to work in the music industry as a session musician and producer. “As soon as we stopped trying to become stars as Panaché, we became busy working in the industry,” Freddie laughs.