Suche:on land

Mac DeMarco's breakthrough sophomore album, Salad Days - released on April Fools', 2014 - garnered widespread critical acclaim, landing on over 30 Year End lists. It was the album that catapulted DeMarco from "loveable slacker" to "mature songwriter with a gaptoothed grin," all at the tender age of 23. DeMarco's demos for Salad Days, originally included in an expanded edition of the album only available on Captured Tracks Mail Order site, peel back the curtain of said artist, who, up until then, may have been more known for his raucous live shows than his genuine talent as a songwriter and craftsman. This collection of demos and sketches as well as previously unreleased instrumental demos offer a rare insight into Mac's world and process.

In the heart of Offenbach, where the city's pulse synchronizes with the beat of the night, stands the illustrious Robert Johnson Club. For a quarter of a century, it has stood as a bastion of sonic exploration, a sanctuary for those who seek solace in the rhythm, and a beacon of inspiration for the global electronic music community. As it proudly raises its glass to toast 25 years of unrivaled musical excellence, the echoes of countless memories reverberate through its storied halls. To honor this landmark anniversary, „Live at Robert Johnson“ presents a kinda like masters blueprint of sound: "Tell Me Something Good - 25 Years of Famous When Dead!" This compilation, aptly named after the club's mantra, serves not only as a celebration of its rich history but also as a testament to the enduring legacy of the artists who have graced its stage. Crafted with meticulous attention to detail, each track on the compilation is a sonic journey unto itself—a symphony of beats and melodies that weave together to tell the story of Robert Johnson's evolution over the past quarter-century. From the pulsating rhythms of underground techno to the ethereal melodies of deep house, the compilation encapsulates the club's eclectic spirit and unwavering commitment to pushing the boundaries of electronic music. But beyond the music lies something deeper—an intangible energy that permeates every aspect of Robert Johnson's existence. It's the sense of camaraderie that binds together the club's patrons and artists alike, the shared experience of losing oneself in the music, and the profound sense of belonging that transcends language and culture. As the compilation reverberates through the speakers, it serves as a rallying cry—a call to arms for all who have ever felt the transformative power of music. It's a reminder that, even in the darkest of times, there is beauty to be found in the simple act of coming together and losing oneself in the rhythm of the night. So let us raise our voices in celebration of Robert Johnson Club and the indelible mark it has left on the world of electronic music. Here's to 25 years of passion, of creativity, and of "something good" that will echo through the ages for generations to come.

While fighting through label limbo and placing his budding film career on freeze, Antwan “Big Boi” Patton spent a couple years readying the artillery for his solo close-up. Sir Lucious Left Foot: The Son of Chico Dusty is both a testament to the maturation of Big Boi and a tribute to his late father; underneath, it’s a speakeasy at breakneck speed, sittin’ on 32s. Where many other formidable MCs would be eaten alive, Big Boi shapeshifts across every mood and landscape with his trademark tenacity. He’s an effortless showboat who can portray sleaze with ease, but he’s a true class act who’s got nothing left to prove, yet will never let it show. Flanked by his known co-conspirators and many more, Big Boi blesses the senses the way only an East Point playboy can; it’s an intergenerational time warp, and another funky ride in HD. The final product is a natural progression of his Organized Noize lineage, sent across dimensions to return with an assemblage of time-tested potent Black grooves, then pressure-cooked in the kitchen of thefinest booty club in Georgia.

"Beneath the Mask" marks a return to the more commercially viable jazz-funk of the Chick Corea Elektric Band’s earlier albums, and marks the end of the first stage in the band’s history, which began five years earlier with the group’s self-titled debut.

Energy meets craft on this superlative outing, which finds the five virtuoso musicians (Chick Corea, drummer Dave Weckl, bassist John Patitucci, guitarist Frank Gamble, and saxophonist Eric Marienthal) engaging in a highly sophisticated yet accessible set of music.

Massive in the scale of the influences it contains, the album travels from the heavy grooving funk-fusion of the title track “Beneath the Mask,” to the lively West African township jive of “One of Us Over 40.” to the mellow smooth jazz of “A Wave Goodbye,” and the grandiose ‘70s style prog-rock/fusion of “Charged Particles.”

Originally released on GRP Records in 1991, the album reflects the innovative spirit of The Elektric Band, pushing boundaries and creating a unique sonic landscape that captivates listeners.

Auf dieser Tribute-Compilation finden sich Interpretationen von Margo-Guryan-Songs von TOPS, Rahill, Clairo, June McDoom, MUNYA und Kainalu, Frankie Cosmos und Good Morning, Kate Bollinger, Pearl & The Oysters, Bedouine und Sylvie, Empress Of, Barrie, und Margo Price. Die meisten unserer Geschichten über Kultmusiker, die ein oder zwei Alben machen und dann zu verschwinden scheinen, sind von Trauer, Verzweiflung und ausgefranstem Ehrgeiz umrahmt. Nicht so bei Margo Guryan, einer begeisterten Jazz-Ausnahmeerscheinung, die Popmusik verachtete, bis sie 1966 „God Only Knows“ hörte, das ihr ein Fenster zu den Wundern öffnete, die diese Musik-Form enthalten konnte. Nur zwei Jahre später veröffentlichte sie auf dem Album „Take a Picture“ ihre eigenen kleinen Popsinfonien und erntete dafür großes Lob und hohe Erwartungen. Aber da sie sich bereits von dem Posaunisten Bob Brookmeyer hatte scheiden lassen, lehnte sie es ab, ein Musikerleben zu führen und auf Tournee zu gehen oder auch nur darüber zu sprechen. Ihre Zurückhaltung führte dazu, dass „Take a Picture“ bald in den Regalen der Discounter und letztlich in den Mülleimern landete. Sie schrieb weiterhin Songs und nahm noch jahrelang auf, arbeitete sogar mit der Band von Neil Diamond zusammen, aber meistens schien sie mit ihrem relativ privaten Leben zufrieden zu sein. Wie es sich für eine so atemberaubende und subtile Musik gehört, erlebte die 2021 verstorbene Guryan in den letzten sechs Jahrzehnten mehrere Wiederauferstehungen. Und jetzt geschieht es wieder: Kurz nachdem ihre fast geflüsterte und liebeskranke Hymne „Why Do I Cry“ sie 2021, im selben Jahr, in dem sie starb, zum TikTok-Star machte, startete die Numero Group eine Wiederveröffentlichungskampagne, aus der 2024 das hochgelobte Set „Words and Music“ hervorging. Und jetzt haben ein Dutzend Künstler - von denen keiner geboren war, als „Take a Picture“ entstand - das gesamte Album (plus einen Bonustrack) für „Like Someone I Know: A Celebration of Margo Guryan“ neu interpretiert. Empress Of, Margo Price, Clairo, June McDoom: Sie alle bestätigen Guryans Schärfe als Songwriterin und die Brillanz eines Albums, das den Werbezyklus, den Guryan vor so langer Zeit ablehnte, bei weitem übertroffen hat. Guryan wurde in einer weitläufigen Familie in Far Rockaway geboren, als der Ort noch größtenteils von Bäumen umrahmt war. Während ihres Kompositionsstudiums an der Boston University stolperte Guryan in einen Auftritt als Pianistin zwischen den Konzerten des Miles Davis Quintet, unterschrieb einen Vertrag als Songwriterin bei Atlantic Records und verpatzte eine Session mit Nesuhi Ertegun. Aber sie war nicht darauf aus, ein Gesangsstar zu werden. 1959 ging sie an die Lenox School of Jazz in den Berkshires, um für Ornette Coleman und Don Cherry zu schreiben, die Aufmerksamkeit des Dozenten Max Roach zu gewinnen und in Gunther Schuller einen langjährigen Mentor und Freund zu finden. Sie wurde eine versierte Texterin und schrieb nicht nur für Coleman und Nancy Harrow, sondern auch für Harry Belafonte und Gary MacFarland. Aber es war die spätere Begegnung mit den Beach Boys, die Guryan die Tür zu „Take a Picture“ und einer Reihe anderer großartiger Songs öffnete, von denen viele auf „Words and Music“ erschienen sind. „Take a Picture“ ist eine ausgefeilte Bestandsaufnahme der Romantik und Unentschlossenheit der Mittzwanziger, vom koketten Treiben in „Sunday Morning“ und der Verliebtheit in „Can You Tell“ bis zur verzweifelten Hilflosigkeit in „What Can I Give You“. Ihre ewig weiche Stimme, ihre kühne Songkunst und ihre völlige Offenheit: Guryan machte 1968 und darüber hinaus gewagte Musik, egal wie sanft sich diese Klänge zu bewegen schienen. „Like Someone I Know: A Celebration of Margo Guryan“ unterstreicht die Stärke von Guryans Liedern, indem es einem Dutzend verschiedener Künstler erlaubt, sie auf ihre eigene Reise mitzunehmen. Im Laufe der letzten Jahrzehnte ist immer deutlicher geworden, wie gut Guryan war, wie stabil ihre Lieder inmitten der wechselnden Geschmacksrichtungen. „Like Someone I Know: A Celebration of Margo Guryan“ ist eine absolute Bestätigung, ein Zeugnis für die anhaltende Relevanz und Brillanz von Guryans Arbeit. Ein Teil des Erlöses dieses Albums wird für die Bereitstellung von und den Einsatz für erschwingliche reproduktive Gesundheitsdienste gespendet.

The beats on Capital Punishment, from RZA, Rockwilder, Domingo, and other A-list maestros, are grimy, radio- friendly, yet low-ley cutting-edge, affirming its status as an undisputed classic. Big Pun was as much a visionary — conceptualizing every song — as a consummate pro in the booth. Citing Picasso and Baby Jesus while purporting to “twist your temples into pretzels,” Pun made Minute Rice out of multi-syllables. There’s no way to describe Pun’s febrile liberties with the king’s English. He doesn’t really breathe; when he does, it’s a sharp gasp for air that almost mimics his Ginsu-like wordplay. Pun’s habit of sucking wind before spitting an ill verse mimics the effect of a lit grenade about to land and decimate entire sections of the population. If Pun’s dense rhymes invoke mixed metaphors, that’s likely because he’s an impossible amalgam of wanton wooer and lyrical hitman, an overweight lover with a murderous mouthpiece.

Human existence in digital times is accompanied by a constant noise of language, words and opinions. It"s a cacophony, it"s all too much. The more is said and written, the less is said at times. The Berlin band neànder has no words. Guitarists Jan Korbach, Michael Zolkiewicz and Patrick Zahn and drummer Flo Häuser rather speak through their instruments. This is not a cliché, but can be heard and felt on the new album "III". Everything is in motion here, one thinks of endless landscapes and unknown worlds. And by the way, if we have refrained from categorizing genres in this text so far, it is because neànder cannot be assigned to any genre in a meaningful way. Of course, this music is somehow post-rock, grunge, metal, prog, ambient and even pop - but at the same time it"s not. You might have to imagine it a bit like Godspeed You! Black Emperor, Prong, Mogwai, Black Sabbath, Faith No More and Venom would play a session together in 2024 and the result would be "III".

Skylax Records Proudly Introduces the "Cold Summer Ep" by Peter Lc, an Electrifying Collection of Five Tracks That Showcase the Artist's Mastery in the European House Music Scene. Emerging From the Enchanting Landscapes of Apulia, Italy, Peter Lc's Sonic Expedition Begins With "Hasta La Playa." This Track, Reminiscent of Rhythmic Tides Against the Shore, Captures the Essence of Carefree Summer Days With Its Sun-Soaked Vibes and Lively Percussion, Setting the Stage for an Energetic Dance Floor Filled With Joy. as the Journey Continues, "Piano Ipnotico" Unfolds, Revealing a Hypnotic Dance Between Rhythmic Piano Chords and Pulsating Beats.

Peter Lc's Enchanting Melodies Create an Immersive Atmosphere, Guiding Listeners Through a Spellbinding Journey That Seamlessly Blends Classic Elements With a Modern, Entrancing Flair. "Time in Cologne" Marks a Temporal Shift, Resonating With Echoes of the City's Historic Charm. the Track Weaves Intricate Sonic Tapestries, Capturing the Unfolding Essence of Time in Each Beat.

Layers of Sound Interlace, Creating a Rich and Immersive Experience That Stands as a Sonic Exploration, Evoking Both Nostalgia and Forward Momentum Simultaneously. "Dive Into the Ethereal Realm of "Your Dreams," Where Dreamlike Melodies Intertwine With Pulsating Rhythms. This Nocturnal Odyssey Invites Listeners Into a World of Introspection and Reverie, Transcending Boundaries With a Seamless Blend of Atmospheric Elements and Rhythmic Patterns.

"Your Dreams" Becomes a Musical Voyage That Resonates Deeply With the subconscious.The Ep Concludes With "With Nobody," a Venture Into Darker Territories That Maintains an Undeniable Energy. Pronounced Beats Create a Driving Force That Propels the Listener Forward, With Mysterious Undertones and Intricate Arrangements Unfolding Like a Narrative. "With Nobody" Encapsulates a Perfect Balance Between Intensity and Allure, Leaving an Indelible Mark as the Grand Finale of the Ep.

Peter Lc's "Cold Summer Ep" Is a Testament to His Boundless Creativity and Mastery, Poised to Carve an Indelible Mark on the Global House Music Landscape. Each Track Is a Testament to His Unique Style—a Captivating Blend Reminiscent of Dj Sneak, Coupled With a Nod to the Golden Era of Italian Dream House From the Early '90s, but Elevated in Production Quality. Whether Basking in Sunny Vibes or Venturing Into Darker Territories, Every Composition Stands as a Bona Fide Banger....

This self-titled LP marks the fifth release of Scottish artist Murray Collier’s Dip Friso project, his longest running alias and the solitary vanguard of his own Real Landscape imprint. Across the six tracks he delivers another collection of warped percussive loops, heavily manipulated guitar work and psychedelic sound experiments that drift between popular music forms ('I’ll Get to Hiding') and whittled down takes on electric blues and shoegaze ('Another Country’). The former features the instantly recognisable croon of Still House Plants vocalist Jess HK embellishing a backdrop of tape loop alchemy, an inspired pairing given the shared history of Glasgow dwelling. ‘Thin Ayrshire’ (written with Hannan Jones) treads a similar path with Collier’s own beyond-unrecognisable voice featuring, broken suddenly by a brief flash of 12th Isle’s Loris S. Sarid & Innis Chonnel’s ‘Spalted Water Portal’ thanks to a recycled tape spool. ‘A Sorry Business’ takes on avant-jazz inspired puddle skronk, a stunted casio bleep propelling forward guitar dirge and cymbal crashes, whilst Australian minimal wave heroes The Systematics are paid homage via a farewell cover of their track ‘Midnight on Balancing Day’ (here ‘Midnight’).

All in, the album sees the project incorporating more instrumentation and a full use of vocalists, leaning less heavily on gauzy sample collage styles and providing a more introspective look at the hazy, dubwise world Collier has been building for the past half a decade.

William Kiss lands on Rekids with the ‘The Beat’ EP this November, hot on the heels of a remix for Mathias Kaden’s ‘Circulate’ EP on the label in September.

The A-side starts with title track ‘The Beat’, bodied toms footing the rhythm while high-pitched percussion keeps an irresistible groove above. With an expertly sampled, playful vocal, Kiss’ ‘The Beat’ is another unmistakable club hit that will effortlessly find its way into the peak time. The B-side hosts ‘Midnight Club’, which features more organic drums mixed with a classic House vocal and zippy strobe-light-inducing synths, closing out William Kiss’ debut on Radio Slave’s flagship label in his signature drummy style.

Having won support from Laurent Garnier, HAAi, Call Super, Robert Hood, and more, William Kiss has been going from strength to strength. He previously appeared on Radio Slave’s labels via his ‘Clap For Me’ EP on Rekids sibling label RSPX, with further releases on labels like GUDU, Bush Records and Three Six Zero alongside the launch of his collaborative project, Not Without Friends, with Luke Alessi and Jordan Brando on RÜFÜS DU SOL’s Rose Avenue.

Forging his own path into the future... With roots in the U.K. club and hip-hop scenes, drummer Richard Spaven brings a fresh approach to the instrument that's at once modern and traditional. Combining machine-like accuracy with jazz-influenced improvisational sensibilities, Spaven's drumming has landed him gigs with vastly varied artists such as UK rapper Loyle Carner, Guru of hip-hop duo Gang Starr, producer Flying Lotus, vocalist José James and Brainfeeder artist Jameszoo. Spaven's brilliance is evident beyond his world-class performance abilities; he's equally impressive in production and compositional territories.


Sole Subject, a captivating crossover of electronica, hip hop, and jazz, explores the nuanced relationship between live drumming and electronic elements, a theme intricately woven throughout Spaven's sixth solo record. Originating from deep, rhythmic ideas, each track is a testament to intense experimentation and precision. At the core of the album are the drums, captured as full live takes which often blur the lines, appearing as if they were programmed or sampled. Dive into Sole Subject and experience a musical journey where innovation meets tradition, and where each beat tells a story of relentless creativity and dedication. The release of the record will be celebrated with a headline show at Jazz Café October 30th.

Water ripples all around, and echoing sounds stretch out into a shady sub aquatic habitat. Its dark corners slowly burst into view as cresting noises reveal fresh caverns teeming with liquid life. This is Sueños acuáticos, the latest sonic exploration from Lamina, a musical project by French artist, Clarice Calvo-Pinsolle. Built from years of carefully gathered field recordings, the album constructs immersive, detailed soundscapes where watery environments, caves, and forests intertwine with digital manipulations.

Rooted in the myth of the ‘Lamina’, a creature from Basque folklore, the project blends this oral tradition with technology to build a geological myth. The Lamina’s world—a nocturnal ecosystem of water and stone—serves as the foundation for the album’s sound design. Lamina reshapes these natural recordings into something new: stretching, pitching, and layering them to build intricate sound environments that feel simultaneously organic and synthetic. “I transform these sounds much like I would sculpt in ceramics,” explains Calvo-Pinsolle, “by adding, removing material, and imagining landscapes.

Drawing from hydrofeminist and posthuman ideas, particularly those in Astrida Neimanis’ Bodies of Water, the album treats sound like water—shifting, flowing, connecting, and buoying life. Tracks flow into one another without clear boundaries, much like the natural currents they represent. The result is a continuous listening experience, inviting deep focus on texture above melody.

Lamina is exploring the potential of the field recording as a compositional tool. Natural sounds, like trickling water or wind through trees, are processed out of recognition—or cliché. A sense of weightless immersion takes hold as Lamins’a music unfolds, and listeners float freely and choose their own adventure in the Lamina’s home. Less a set of songs than its own evolving environment, Sueños acuáticos (‘Aquatic Dreams’ in English) is a meticulously constructed work in which we can freely float.

Jawad Nawfal and Mazen El Sayed, better known by their stage names of MUNMA and EL RASS, met for the first time in Beirut, during the summer of 2011. A common friend told Jawad wonders about an MC who rapped and slammed in the classical Arabic language, as opposed to the vernacular Lebanese dialect. The two musicians met in a small café in Beirut’s Hamra neighborhood, spoke of music, argued about politics, and decided to collaborate at once. They began working on tracks the following day. A month later, they had already produced a dozen sketches, instrumental beds and accapella vocal tracks. These demos eventually landed in the hands of Ziad Nawfal and Fadi Tabbal, who set out to bring to life the duo’s first recorded album. “Kachf el Mahjoub” (the title is from a Sufi master-work penned some 900 years ago) was eventually released as a limited edition of 500 CD’s, during a launch event at then-budding alternative venue Metro al Madina in Hamra, on the 22nd of February 2012. These CDs went out of print in record time, as can be expected, and the album’s mythical status became reinforced over time – El Rass & Munma collaborated sporadically during the next ten years, but never fully grasped the level of musical intensity and explosive tension attained on this first outing. It has been a longstanding dream of ours, here at Ruptured, to produce a vinyl version of this album, and we are thrilled to say this moment has finally come. Artist ALI RAFEI’s original artworks have been painstakingly reproduced, the music has been dutifully remastered for vinyl by CEDRIK FERMONT, and the records were pressed by our friends at Mother Tongue in Verona. We added bonus track "Fi Kala'at Tarablus" to this 10th anniversary reissue for good measure – recorded during the same sessions that yielded “Kachf el Mahjoub”, it appears on the digital version of the album. “Kachf el Mahjoub” is a landmark album in Lebanon’s alternative music scene, and the MENA region’s hiphop and indie scenes writ large. At the time of their collaboration, El Sayed was a prolific writer and musician, at ease with a variety of instruments, notorious for his masterful flow in the classical Arabic language, with lyrics tackling both social and political sensitive subjects; Nawfal has previously released an impressive number of albums and EPs, exploring downtempo electronica and ambient dubstep, for a number of Lebanese and international labels. The collision of the former’s brazen, slammed vocals and the latter’s harsh beats works wonders on “Kachf el Mahjoub”, Munma’s sound-world perfectly fitting El Rass’s agitated discourse, alternating between broken beats, elaborate percussion, and ambient layers of synths. At times reminiscent of mutant hiphop outfit Shabazz Palaces, at others of the collaboration between dubstep producer Kode9 and the late vocalist The SpaceApe, this album is an uncanny meeting of Arabic hip-hop and electronica, an exceptional event in the realm of contemporary Lebanese alternative music.

Pique is the sensational debut solo album from Dora Morelenbaum, one of the key talents spearheading Brazil’s new musical wave. A member of the Latin Grammy award-winning band, Bala Desejo, Dora showcases a new side to her solo productions on this special LP. Whereas Dora’s first solo EP, Vento de Beirada, was a leap of faith, Pique sees her soaring as one of Brazil’s standout stars, emboldened, emphatic but ever elegant. Building bridges between past and present, it’s a funkier, more groove-based affair, weaved together with those signature, slower, celestial tracks. Touching on disco, MPB, soul, R&B and jazz, the album is enriched with an indie pop aesthetic courtesy of fellow Brazilian star and co-producer, Ana Frango Elétrico.

With an ethereal, enveloping air few can match, Dora’s gift shines through both the serene and the spirited songs contained within. The blissful, sun-soaked ‘Não Vou Te Esquecer’ opens, before the funk-fuelled, feel-good ‘Venha Comigo’ and ‘Sim, Não.’ give a glimpse of the creativity bursting from the production partnership between Dora and Ana Frango Elétrico. Elsewhere, the album reclines into hazy lean-back realms via ‘A Melhor Saída’ and ‘Petricor’, virtuoso jazz funk in the form of ‘VW Blue’ and radiant MPB through the album’s title track ‘Pique’.

The drumming is tight, fresh and swung, the horns and strings deftly arranged, as funk-driven basslines and strutting guitars mesh with playful production touches that give an added vibrancy to the record. It is an album that exhibits every side of Dora and one she has been involved in from the ground up, from the songwriting, singing, arrangement and production to booking the studio time and sourcing the artwork designer, Maria Cau Levy.

An exchange of musical ideas powers every great scene and Rio’s contemporary landscape is no different - a family of interconnected musicians and friends that collaborate on each other’s productions. Pique is graced by a wealth of these leading Brazilian lights including her Bala Desejo bandmates Lucas Nunes, Julia Mestre and Zé Ibarra, as well as Guilherme Lirio, Alberto Continentino and Tom Veloso to name just a handful. This exchange crosses generations merging tradition with modernity. In a full circle moment, Dora’s parents Paula and Jaques Morelenbaum, who featured in countless recordings from Tom Jobim's Nova Banda and Ryuichi Sakamoto to Gal Costa and Gilberto Gil, join on the album through backing vocals and arrangement.

Pique sees Dora embrace a freedom through fresh forms, showcasing the depth and diversity of her creative artistry. An infinitely listenable release that nods to Brazilian greats like Gal Costa, Banda Black Rio and Lincoln Olivetti, fused with the indie pop edge of Ana’s production. The result is truly unique and sure to be a future Brazilian classic.

Having spent their formative years in São Paulo Brazil, as a teenager, Lau Ro found themself uprooted from their home. Moving with their family to Europe in search of a better quality of life, their story was like that of many immigrants in the same position. Lau Ro's parents found work in factories and cleaning jobs, for the first few years in the North of Italy and then in Brighton on England's Southern coast. "We never managed to visit back home, so my connection to Brazil became largely made up of childhood memories and my fascination with all the 60s and 70s music I could find from there."

In Brighton, the young non-binary singer and composer would immerse themself amongst the city's vanguard of free-thinking artists and musicians. Lau Ro formed Wax Machine whose prefigurative, psychedelic community provided a glimmer of countercultural hope amid a backdrop of national political decline. From 2020-23, Wax Machine birthed three cult-favourite albums in as many years; indebted in part to their British psychedelic forebears from progressive folk, rock and jazz yore. But the kernel of Lau's Brazilian sound was already beginning to blossom across Wax Machine's releases. Now, taking root deeper still, Lau Ro steps forward with their debut album: Cabana.

Named after the small wood cabin at the bottom of their garden where the album was recorded, Cabana is a deeply personal record of memory, self-discovery and imagination. Melancholy and hope combine across ten tracks of dreamy bossa, ambient folk, fuzzy tropicalia and majestic MPB. The music is swathed in masterful string arrangements and trippy electronics in equal part, while Lau Ro's delicate, yet quietly confident voice takes acerbic aim (in both English and Portuguese) at polluted city life, while dreaming of a utopia, rich with nature and wildlife.

Like the musical equivalent of semantic drift, Lau Ro's displacement led to the creation of another Brazil. A mythic place in Lau's soul, as they put it, "where the sunshine and joy of my childhood remained untapped." Lau continues: "It's music that might sound as if it came out of a parallel universe Brazil, rather than its modern day landscape. I am nowadays rediscovering Brazil, going back as often as I can and trying to stay connected to these different parts of the world and myself."

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

"Anywayawanna – The Best Of is a compilation album by The Beat Masters, a British producer trio who enjoyed considerable success in the late 80's/early 90's. As well as producing Yazz' smash hit ""Stand Up For Your Love Rights"" in 1988, they also landed several Top 20 hits under the Beatmasters moniker with a series of guest vocalists: The Cookie Crew (""Rok Da House""), Betty Boo (""Hey DJ / I Can't Dance (To That Music You're Playing)""), Merlin MC (""Who's in the House"") and P.P. Arnold (""Burn It Up""). These hits are all featured on this compilation album ""Anywayawanna – The Best Of The Beatmasters"". The Beatmasters went on to write, produce and remix for many other artists including Marc Almond, Pet Shop Boys, Blur, Roachford, Betty Boo, Naomi Campbell, Moby, Aswad, Eternal, Tina Turner, David Bowie, Depeche Mode, The Shamen and Girls Aloud. Anywayawanna – The Best Of is available on vinyl for the first time as a limited edition of 750 copies on orange coloured vinyl. The package contains an insert with extensive liner notes."

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

"Five years since her debut album Delivery, Mikaela Davis has moved away from her hometown of Rochester, shared the stage with the likes of Bob Weir, Phil Lesh, Christian McBride, Bon Iver, Lake Street Dive and Circles Around the Sun and entered a new decade. But it’s the ever-evolving relationships between her closest friends and bandmates that has propelled the Hudson Valley-based artist onto her latest album And Southern Star––a truly collaborative effort that ruminates on the choices we make, and the people we always come back to.

The band, made up of Davis (harp/vocals), Alex Coté (drums), Cian McCarthy (guitars/vocals), Shane McCarthy (bass/vocals) and Kurt Johnson (steel guitar), have been playing together for over a decade and it’s the first time they’ve appeared on a full length record together. Weaving 60s pop-soaked melodies, psychedelia and driving folk rock, And Southern Star picks apart the reflection we used to recognise, while trying to build a new one. It navigates the periphery of past selves, the coexistence of isolation and excitement in a new environment and the tension of growing away from what we thought we wanted, tackling it with a luscious, kaleidoscopic grace. “I finally feel like this album is more me than anything else that’s been released,” Davis says, adding that producing the album along with her four bandmates allowed them to carve out their own ideas, rather than someone else’s. It’s the band’s collective step into adulthood that has informed much of And Southern Star’s thematic landscape."

“Commencement/Mineral Blend” delivers a fusion of rough and ready dub-adjacent bass music compositions from the London based trio Damos Room. Also featured are eclectic remixes from artists Gonjasufi, Lewi Boome, Dome Zero, and Nudibranch residents Polyop.

The bulk of the EP came from a rare in-person collaboration at Elijah Minnelli’s loft. The Horse Militia laid belly to the ground, endlessly feeding an effects chain like a battery hen with noises from multiple contrasting sources. It was particularly hot that day and the windows were wide open, so if you listen closely you can hear the humid Selhurst skyline bleeding into the recordings. This long weekend was punctuated by visits to the local swamp and an outing to see Channel One Soundsystem.

"Commencement," the EP's inaugural offering, unfolds with a hypnotic, droning bass groove, providing the floor for a paranoid stream of consciousness.

"Mineral Blend" takes a lazier dancehall-esque approach. Littered with unloved sounds from previous sessions and repurposing the lyrics ("I want to be a vessel") from Damos Room's DR Viewings #2 release with Polyop, this track weaves in and out of consciousness without ever truly bubbling over.

Remixers Lewi Boome and Dome Zero contribute imaginative 150bpm takes on both "Commencement" and "Mineral Blend” respectively, drawing inspiration from their backgrounds in bass, techno and experimental electronic music.

Polyop's remix of "Mineral Blend" leans further into dub techno stylings, infusing a refreshing and spacious perspective that echoes their acid roots.

The LA-based artist Gonjasufi transforms "Commencement" into a foggy and mysterious rendition, using his unique production techniques to transcend the dancefloor and immerse listeners in a misty sonic landscape.