Suche:once i died

The short, mysterious career of the female French duo Deux Filles is bookended by tragedy. Gemini Forque and Claudine Coule met as teenagers at a holiday pilgrimage to Lourdes, during which Coule's mother died of an incurable lung disease and Forque's mother was killed and her father paralyzed in an auto accident. The two teens bonded over their shared grief and worked through their bereavement with music. However, after recording two critically acclaimed albums and playing throughout Europe and North America, Forque and Coule disappeared without a trace in North Africa in 1984 during a trip to visit Algiers. The short and terribly unhappy lives of Forque and Coule are at the root of the small but fervent cult following the mysterious duo have gained since their disappearance, not least because the placid, largely instrumental music on the duo's albums betrays no hint of the sorrow that framed their personal lives.

This would be a terribly sad story if a word of it were true. In reality, Deux Filles were Simon Fisher Turner, former child star/teen idol and future soundtrack composer, and his mate Colin Lloyd Tucker. Turner and Tucker left an early incarnation of The The in 1981 to pursue another musical direction. Turner claims that the idea of Deux Filles came to him in a dream, and he and Tucker strictly maintained the fiction throughout the duo's career. Not only did they pose in drag for the album covers, the duo once even played live without the audience realizing that the tragic French girls on-stage were actually a pair of blokes from south London. Deux Filles released two albums through Turner and Tucker's Papier Mache label, 1982's Silence & Wisdom' and 1983's Double Happiness'. Both albums are included here and blend watery piano, occasionally ghostly vocals, sheets of synthesizers, heavily processed guitars and the barest minimum of percussion. Drifting and wistful, they're a pair of lost ambient gems from a time when the genre had yet to mature, an excellent example of post-Eno, pre-Orb ambient music.

All songs have been remastered for vinyl by George Horn at Fantasy Studios in Berkeley. The vinyl comes housed in gatefold sleeve with original front covers of both albums, and a centerfold of archive images and the original liner notes. Each LP includes a sticker of the Lino cuts by Adrian Gill that was included with the original pressing.

"Like an early French film soundtrack with melodramatic overtones, the sound is jagged and disjointed but never harsh. Lilting guitars and ample use of echo smack of Vini Reilly, relying on the hypnotic qualities of the sound rather than abrasive noise" (Sounds, 03/1983)

Wondrous ethereal folk songs by a reclusive pen pal of Maxine Funke, first introduced to A Colourful Storm by Funke while sharing music and ideas during her Australian tour. Ghost faced pansies. A moth coloured cat. Cauliflowers, cabbages undying. I hear the spine of the dictionary crack. Is what they call a creature who only wakes at dusk. And turning backs. My afternoon has turned pitch black. For a trace. For a shape. I wipe the steam from the window like the bloom on a grape. Ghost faced pansies. A moth coloured cat. Light of stars long since died.

Housewives, househusbands, ladies, gentlemen, and everyone in between… Avril A is ready for relaunch.

A - V - R - I - L

Never released Hi-NRG, synth-pop, wonky rock n' roll from a queer Manchester underground icon of the 80s and 90s.

By day, Avril Eventhal was a housewife in North Manchester's Orthodox Jewish community. By night, she was the fabulous Avril A, a larger than life cabaret performer who found a loyal audience in gay venues across the country and was adored for her outrageous live shows.

With her signature leopard print dress and feather duster in hand she delivered an unforgettable song and dance routine - as it was billed, “an audio-visual assault on the audience”.

She celebrated her unconventional style, finding joy and space for creative reinvention with the queer community.

Avril died in 2017, leaving behind a massive archive of material documenting every aspect of her career in songwriting and performance. For two years, Memory Dance has been working with Avril's niece and family on a digitisation and restoration project bringing these audio recordings back to life.

It was less than a year ago that Italy-born but Denmark-based musical artist Alex Puddu released his latest album Deliria, an enticing blend of erotic disco, soulful grooves and electronica inspired by Italian pop music of the late 70s / early 80s, which went on to enjoy extended radio play across the globe including on BBC 6, NTS, KCRW, and national Spanish station Radio 3, to name a few.

But it wasn’t long thereafter that indefatigable groove purveyor Puddu travelled back to Rome for a new musical adventure, heading straight to The Sound Work Shop, the recording studio of legendary Italian composer Piero Umiliani, where he recorded the 10 new tracks that are included in his latest musical opus, Professione Reporter, another funky and soulful adult-oriented disco-pop album entirely sung by himself in Italian.

Professione Reporter tells the story of a photo reporter who travels the world following and stalking rich recently-widowed women whose husbands died in mysterious circumstances. Attracted by their charm and wealth, our protagonist transforms himself into a gigolo, becoming a dedicated lover-boy to these rich sugar mamas and a slave to the sweet life, going so far as to become an accomplice in their criminal plans to ensure the inheritance of their dead husbands.

Once again Alex Puddu has hit the mark with a collection of polished and ear-friendly grooves that tell the alluring story of a private eye embroiled in a web of love affairs, wealth and deceit, evoking images of satin sheets, champagne and dim lights set against the backdrop of one of the most hedonistic decades so far.

Recorded almost entirely in a single day at the legendary Total Refreshment Centre in London, JOY MACHINE brings together some of the most exciting musicians in London’s new jazz explosion. With features from Alabaster DePlume and trumpeter Jonathon Enser (Nubiyan Twist), vocals from Dizraeli (Worldwide Music Awards Best Album nominee), drums from Ben Brown (Alfa Mist, Mulatu Astatke), bass from uk jazz scene favourite Daisy George, synths from Joseph Costi (Yusef Cat Stevens, Bahla) and saxophone from free jazzer Ronan Perrett.



In the tradition of Miles Davis’s Bitches Brew, the band came to the studio in October 23 with only one pre-written track (the uplifting summer anthem Greek Summer) and once that was recorded, spent the rest of the day improvising wild, explosive music laced with Dizraeli’s rap and spoken word lyricism. The result is JOY MACHINE, a record bursting with urgency, intensity and life, and one that cements Dizraeli’s position as an innovative wordsmith, bringing both personal depth (as in Abigail, a homage to the sister who died before he was born) and fierce political commentary (as in Dear Cousin, a goosebumps-inducing narrative that transports the listener aboard the boat Adriana carrying refugees across the Mediterranean, which sank in June 2023 drowning 500 people, and then confronts a very English bigot in the second verse).

"I am sitting in a garden, I haven't left the property in weeks, someone is dropping off food once a week. I haven't seen a human being in ages, I feel like a reverse Schroedinger cat - do I exist when nobody sees me? I must be somewhere in France but I don't remember. I have lost my consciousness again. When I wake up I hear a broken record looping somewhere in the mansion. A washed-out opera. Behind the trees I see the dilapidated hermaphrodite sculpture in a field of verdant nettles and fern. I hear gunshots far afield, aeroplanes in the sky, sirens on the main road.
When unconscious I dreamt of sitting on the Concorde observing the scarab blue ocean and iridescent clouds from above, an erstwhile receding memory. Sometimes I hear the organ of the nearby Renaissance Cathedral merging with the Russian Church bells.
I am hallucinating again. Someone's humming in the kitchen? Singing? A Radio? I overhear two young women talking about art galleries in the neighbour's garden. Bees attack, again…..again and again. The hairspray finally intoxicates them. An amphoric japanese voice is whispering in my head saying I will die soon. Someone (something?) bangs on the vases. The fountain's water turns dark red.
Fleur calls and says mum died. The funeral will be televised on tuesday. We opt for the synthetic choir for the service. The call is suddenly interrupted. Mold is slowly taking over the house.
I go back inside."

Une Fille Pétrifiée is the debut album of new Black To Comm related entity Mouchoir Ètanche (after one recent 12" on Richter's own Dekorder label). Combining real and fake acoustic instrumentation, sampling, field recordings and excessive yet inaudible post production this is another sublime and ethereal statement. Influences are ranging from (French) Classical & Opera to the anecdotical compositions of Luc Ferrari, Chinese Opera, Chanson, Sacred Music / Church Music, JG Ballard and Surrealism.

Marc Richter records as Black To Comm for Thrill Jockey, Type and Dekorder and as Jemh Circs for his own Cellule 75 imprint. He also produces soundtracks and acousmatic multichannel installations for institutions such as INA GRM Paris, ZKM Karlsruhe and Kunstverein Hamburg.

Remastered using pure analogue components only, from the master tapes through to the cutting head.

Ornette Coleman, who died in June 2015 from cardiac arrest, must be counted as one of the most influential musicians in the jazz genre. His importance does not only lie in his ground-breaking recordings in the late Fifties and early Sixties, but lies more significantly in the educational effect of his work – in the fact that he always went beyond himself to the very end.

Just a little more than a month after his ground-breaking release "Free Jazz", Coleman recorded the present album, in which he perhaps distanced himself somewhat from the conceptual idea, but still guided his quartet to ever more richness of detail and creativity. "Ornette!" was the first recording with bass-player Scott LaFaro and Coleman, and the difference in approach between LaFaro and Charlie Haden is noticeable from the very first note of "W.R.U.". His playing is more direct and agile, and one can hear how he drives Coleman and Don Cherry actively onwards and more aggressively than Haden’s warm, languid phrasing.

The tracks, with titles that are taken from the works of Sigmund Freud, are all gems and serve as a wonderful starting point for the musicians’ improvisations. By now, Coleman felt himself comfortable in lengthy pieces, and neither he nor his fellow musicians had trouble in filling out time, never once lacking for new ideas. Ed Blackwell deserves a special mention – he shows himself here at his very best. "Ornette!" is a superb release and an absolute must for all fans of Coleman and creative, improvised music in general.

SHIFT Frequency: Rebellion

Year 3670. Earth still chokes under the Global Order’s silence. Music—once a human birthright—is outlawed, erased, forgotten. But deep beneath the static, something stirs.

SHIFT has returned!

New recruits are armed with forbidden vinyl, analog synths, and rhythm-coded grooves; they strike from the shadows. Their weapon: soundwaves engineered to shatter neural suppression. Each track is a battle cry. Each bassline is a crack in the regime’s silence. Their mission: spark the rebellion and make the world feel again.

Analogue Productions' UHQR, the pinnacle of high-quality vinyl! 45 RPM Ultra High Quality Record release limited to 5,000 copies Mastered from the original tapes by Ryan K. Smith at Sterling Sound Pressed at Quality Record Pressings using Clarity Vinyl® Purest possible pressing and most visually stunning presentation and packaging!

By the time Bob Marley died, he was one of the world's first global superstars, famous and lauded from Europe through Africa and the Americas. Some even saw him as not just a reggae singer but as a folk hero, a sort of freedom fighter, and to this day his enduring image feels greater than the music he made, writes Pitchfork. In the 21st century, Bob Marley is a global cultural icon and the first Jamaican inducted into the Rock & Roll Hall of Fame. 1977's Exodus — recorded in London exile after a failed attempt on his life — turned out to be Marley's biggest-selling studio album.

Time magazine named it the greatest LP of the 20th century. Other Marley discs had bigger hits and still others had better album tracks, but the balance Marley strikes between politics, religion, and romance on Exodus — compare and contrast the urgent title track and the laid-back "Jamming" — shows a pop star at the peak of his powers.

Now, Analogue Productions presents perfection — Exodus in UHQR 45 RPM format on Clarity Vinyl. This Ultra High Quality Record release will be limited to 4,500 copies, with gold foil individually numbered jackets. After the success of 1974's Natty Dread and 1976's Rastaman Vibration, Bob Marley was not only the most successful reggae musician in the world, he was one of the most powerful men in Jamaica. Powerful enough, in fact, that he was shot by gunmen who broke into his home in December 1976, days before he was to play a massive free concert intended to ease tensions days before a contentious election for Jamaican Prime Minister.

In the wake of the assassination attempt, Marley and his band left Jamaica and settled in London for two years, where he recorded Exodus. Exodus represented a subtle but significant shift for Marley; while he continued to speak out against political corruption and for freedom and equality for Third World people, his skill as a songwriter was as strong as ever, and Exodus boasted more than a few classics, "including the title song, 'Three Little Birds,' 'Waiting in Vain,' and 'Turn Your Lights Down Low,' tunes that defined Marley's gift for sounding laid-back and incisive at once," writes AllMusic. This UHQR is remastered at 45 RPM by Sterling Sound's Ryan K. Smith from the original analog master tapes. Each UHQR will be pressed on 180-gram vinyl at Acoustic Sounds' industry-leading pressing plant Quality Record Pressings (QRP) using hand-selected Clarity Vinyl® with attention paid to every single detail. These records will feature the same flat profile that helped to make the original UHQR so desirable. From the lead-in groove to the run-out groove, there is no pitch to the profile, allowing the customer's stylus to play truly perpendicular to the grooves from edge to center. Clarity Vinyl allows for the purest possible pressing and the most visually stunning presentation. Every UHQR will be hand inspected upon pressing completion, and only the truly flawless will be allowed to go to market. Each UHQR will be packaged in a custom clamshell box and will include a booklet detailing the entire process of making a UHQR along with a hand-signed certificate of inspection. This will be a truly deluxe, collectible product.

Loyle Carner will release his highly anticipated sophomore record, 'Not Waving, But Drowning' on 19 April via AMF Records.

'Not Waving, But Drowning' follows Loyle's BRIT (Best Male, Best Newcomer) and Mercury Prize nominated, top 20 debut 'Yesterday's Gone'. The bedrock of honest and raw sentimentality that you heard on 'Yesterday's Gone' left an inextinguishable mark on music in general and UK Hip Hop in particular, standing out as an ageless, bulletproof debut.

'Not Waving, But Drowning', Loyle's new album, gives yet more evidence - as if it were needed - of his razor-sharp flow and his unique storytelling ability. Yes, he can rap, but he allies that with the sensitivity of a poet, the observational skills of a novelist, and warmth of your best friend. The album opens with 'Dear Jean', a letter to his mother in which he's telling her that he has found the love of his life, 'a woman from the skies', and he's moving out.

It goes without saying that Loyle's music is hard to categorise, but what is even more impressive is that for someone who grew up listening to Mos Def, Biggie Smalls, Roots Manuva, and Wu Tang Clan, he doesn't sound like any of them. Although he might from time to time give lyrical nods to them, he's no imitator.

Loyle loves cooking. There are two tracks on this album named after chefs. The British-Israeli chef Yotam Ottolenghi, and the now deceased Italian chef Antonio Carluccio. 'Ottolenghi' the first single from the album was featured on the BBC Radio 1 B-list, BBC 6 Music A-list and has already been streamed over 5 million times.

Loyle refers to real life for everything, the title of 'Yesterday's Gone' came from a song of his step father, the title of his new album 'Not Waving, But Drowning' comes from a poem by his grandfather, which in turn came from a Stevie Smith poem. What you hear on the track 'Krispy' is real. He is pouring his heart out to his best friend Rebel Kleff after their relationship went downhill, he invites him on the track to say his piece but he doesn't turn up, so we get a flugel solo instead.

Loyle also has his own personal black consciousness movement. When he refers to his 'fathers' in the track 'Looking Back' he really is referring to two fathers. His biological father, a black man who he knows, but knows very little of, and his step father, a poet and musician who happens to be a white man but died a sudden unexpected death from epilepsy (SUDEP). With no real emotional ties to his biological father, but a deep connection with a deceased step-father, where does a young child turn He succinctly captures many of the great, unspoken, cultural and historical paradoxes of multicultural Britain on 'Looking Back'.

An album like this is hard to find. It is for those who like their Hip Hop to have soul, and their soul to have spirit. This is because it works on so many levels, but it is reflecting the personality of its creator. There are a host of collaborators here, Jorja Smith, Rebel Kleff, Kiko Bun, Kwes, Jordan Rakei, Sampha, Tom Misch and more, but none are overpowering. They blend righteously into place.
Loyle is not bitter with people who have let him down, or a society that lets so many down, but the combination of anger and love he has gives his voice the perfect blend of strength and vulnerability. This might be a coming of age album, but it's also a coming of ageless album. Loyle's 2019 Spring tour - which includes London's Roundhouse - sold out within 20 minutes of being on sale.

Not Waving, But Drowning



A rapper that raps about family is hard to find. The boys in the 'hood' tend not to be that interested in how much a 'brother' loves his mother, or how much he misses his dad, or even how much he misses his best friend. The boys in the 'hood' tend to be obsessed with the size of their cars, girls, bank accounts, and other personal 'possessions'. Loyle Carner's Mercury and BRIT Prize nominated debut 'Yesterday's Gone' (Released 2017), made it clear that he wasn't that kind of rapper. In fact, every time I talk to him about his work we talk about the world, and we tended to confuse ourselves by calling his work rap, poems, or songs, sometimes in the same sentence. They are in truth all of these things.



Here's some poetry.



Honestly I need them.

I hate them but I grieve them

I think I've finally found the reason

Trust

Like the fire needs the air.

I won't burn unless you're there.





'Not Waving, But Drowning', Loyle's forthcoming new album, gives us yet more evidence, (if it were needed), that he still has what rappers call, flow, but he hasn't lost any of his story telling qualities. Yes, the boy can rap, but a rapper with the sensitivity of a true poet, the observational skills of a novelist, and warmth of your best friend. The album opens with 'Dear Jean', a letter to his mother in which he's telling her that he has found the love of his life, (a woman from the skies), and he's moving out. He really loves the woman from the skies, but he still loves his mum, and so he reassures her that there is no competition, and tells her that 'She's not behind me or behind you, but beside we and beside two', his words. Or to put it another way, moving out without moving out. My words.



It goes without saying that Loyle's music is hard to categorise, but what is even more impressive is that for someone who grew up listening to Mos Def, Biggie Smalls, Roots Manuva, and Wu Tang Clan, he doesn't sound like any of them. Although he might from time to time give lyrical nods to them, he's no imitator. He says finding his own voice was something he always found easy. Although young, (in terms of a musical career), he has confidence in his own words and his own voice, and has never been tempted to sound like he's been hanging out in the USA, or rolling in 'Grime' on the mean streets of East London. And so when it comes to the creative process he doesn't simply find a beat to jump on and ride. Beats are important, but they are tenderly layered with samples, keyboards, or live drums, all imaginatively assembled for the laying on of words. Some tracks start with the idea, some with poetry, and some with a verse from a singer or some other melodic inspiration, but there is no formula.



Here's some poetry.



Don't hold any memories of us

Rather hold you everyday until the memories are dust

Yo we only caught the train

Cos you know I hate the bus





A prolific reader, who has dyslexia is hard to find. Add ADHD (Attention deficit hyperactivity disorder) to that and life should become even more difficult. To deal with your difficulties you devise coping strategies, which can differ from person to person. Loyle loves cooking. There are two tracks on this album named after chefs. The British-Israeli chef Ottolenghi, and the now deceased Italian chef Antonio Carluccio. Loyle describes himself as 'weird' because he is happy to read a cookbook as if he was reading a novel or a book of poetry. He has opened a cookery school for young adults not just because he loves food and wants to make more of it, but because it is one of the few things that can focus the ADHD mind. And when it comes to his other love, football, his approach is the same. Focus. He wanted to be a striker he says, up front scoring goals, but found his best position was in midfield because he was able to focus, check options, and see passes ahead of time, providing passes for other players just when they needed them. He says, 'You don't grow out of ADHD, you grow into it.' Loyle is also working with Levi's® on their music project where he is mentoring young musicians over a six month period, culminating at Liverpool Sound City festival.



More poetry.



When the going is tough

I wait till it falls on deaf ears

Hearsay

Without the boundaries of love



He also said, 'Ask most people and they will say that they love their mothers, but most are not going to rap about her'. On his first album Loyle's mum Jean wrote about the 'scribble of a boy' that growing up would take things apart to see how they worked. On this album she speaks with pride about a man who has found his place in the world.



Yes, poetry.



I'm still looking for the answers

Trying to find the right questions

Still waiting for my fathers

But can't break them in to sections



This poetry is serious. Loyle has his own personal black consciousness movement. He told me that he always felt safe at home, and being the darkest one in the family never meant a thing, but then when he had to face the outside world he felt hostility. It shook him up. Now he had to start asking questions, but what were the questions. This is serious. When he refers to his 'fathers' in the verse above taken from the track 'Looking Back' he really is referring to two fathers. His biological father, a black man who he knows, but knows very little of, and his step father, a poet and musician who happens to be a white man but died a sudden unexpected death from epilepsy (SUDEP). So to whom would a young black (or mixed race) kid turn He succinctly captures many of the great, unspoken, cultural and historical paradoxes of multicultural Britain when he says, 'My great grandfather could of owned my other one.' We are a people descended from enslaved people on one hand, and enslavers on the other, something we are still struggling to come to terms with, and this can be apparent in one family. A big book could have told you that, but here we get it in one line on the track, Looking Back.





Loyle refers to real life for everything. The album is peppered with captured moments that he records on his phone. These moments can range from conversations with taxi drivers, to capturing the moment when England scores a goal in the world cup. The title of 'Yesterday's Gone' came from a song of his step father, the title of his new album 'Not Waving but Drowning' comes from a poem by his grandfather, which in turn came from a Stevie Smith poem. What you hear on the track 'Krispy' is real. He is pouring his heart out to his best friend after their relationship went downhill, he invites him on the track to say his piece but he doesn't turn up, so we get a flugel solo instead. Yes people, this is real.



An album like this is hard to find. It is for those who like their Hip Hop to have soul, and their soul to have spirit, this is an album for those who have, (I'm sorry, I'm going to say it), emotional intelligence. This is because it works on so many levels, but it is reflecting the personality of its creator. There are a host of collaborators here, Jorja Smith, Rebel Kleff, Kiko Bun, Jordan Rakei, Sampha, Tom Misch and more, but none are overpowering. They blend righteously into place. Loyle is not bitter with people who have let him down, or the society that has let him down, but the combination of anger and love he has gives his voice the perfect blend of strength and vulnerability. This might be a coming of age album, but it's also a coming of ageless album. His first album worked, and this second album is a continuation of that work. Not creating a form, but being formless, as someone like Bruce Lee once said.

And here's some poetry from mum.



We talked long in to the darkest hours

Until we saw the burnished sky

And our eyes stung

As our words blurred and became thoughts

As we were silenced by the dawn

We clung to each other like sailors in a storm

Mustapha Skandrani, a luminary of Algerian music, possessed a unique musical sense, able to transcend the borders of musical cultures to create a distinctive fusion of Arabic-Andalusian and European styles.

"Istikhbars and Improvisations", recorded in 1965 in Paris, is a solo piano album presenting a trans-Mediterranean crossover based on traditional Algerian vocal pieces known as istikhbars. Playing these istikhbars (which have roots in the Islamic Arab-Andalusian culture which flourished in Spain) on the piano - that quintessentially European instrument - Skandrani was greeted with derision by some purists. His powerful musical vision, however, perceives the European element involved in Arabic-Andalusian musical culture, a world of exchange and co-existence.

Skandrani's modus operandi on this release is to present each istikhbar, modal in nature, then to play an improvisation based on it, and its attendant mode. This A/B alternation continues throughout. The pellucid clarity of Skandrani's playing on this album may remind the listener of a modal Goldberg Variations, Bach and Glenn Gould transplanted to Andalucia. Other ears will hear the Arabic/Maghreb elements more strongly. Skandrani's precise touch and clear, symmetrical rhythmic sense links both worlds, assuring us that the Mediterranean is not a barrier, but a unifier, and that the differences between the cultures are not so vast. This is an admirable achievement, resulting in beautiful music of a rare charm.

Mustapha Skandrani was born in Algiers in 1920, and died there in 2005. He mastered a number of instruments at an early age, and his musical prowess led him to work with the great singers and ensembles of his day, in live performances, recordings, and radio broadcasts. Later in his life, he devoted much energy to education.

Originally reissued by Em Records as a limited edition of 200 in 2012, now available once again, in offset printed sleeve, with insert of Japanese and English sleeve-notes and rare photosMustapha Skandrani, a luminary of Algerian music, possessed a unique musical sense, able to transcend the borders of musical cultures to create a distinctive fusion of Arabic-Andalusian and European styles.

"Istikhbars and Improvisations", recorded in 1965 in Paris, is a solo piano album presenting a trans-Mediterranean crossover based on traditional Algerian vocal pieces known as istikhbars. Playing these istikhbars (which have roots in the Islamic Arab-Andalusian culture which flourished in Spain) on the piano - that quintessentially European instrument - Skandrani was greeted with derision by some purists. His powerful musical vision, however, perceives the European element involved in Arabic-Andalusian musical culture, a world of exchange and co-existence.

Skandrani's modus operandi on this release is to present each istikhbar, modal in nature, then to play an improvisation based on it, and its attendant mode. This A/B alternation continues throughout. The pellucid clarity of Skandrani's playing on this album may remind the listener of a modal Goldberg Variations, Bach and Glenn Gould transplanted to Andalucia. Other ears will hear the Arabic/Maghreb elements more strongly. Skandrani's precise touch and clear, symmetrical rhythmic sense links both worlds, assuring us that the Mediterranean is not a barrier, but a unifier, and that the differences between the cultures are not so vast. This is an admirable achievement, resulting in beautiful music of a rare charm.

Mustapha Skandrani was born in Algiers in 1920, and died there in 2005. He mastered a number of instruments at an early age, and his musical prowess led him to work with the great singers and ensembles of his day, in live performances, recordings, and radio broadcasts. Later in his life, he devoted much energy to education.

Originally reissued by Em Records as a limited edition of 200 in 2012, now available once again, in offset printed sleeve, with insert of Japanese and English sleeve-notes and rare photos

"They are the Finnish / Dutch / British troupe NIGHTWISH – one of the most fascinating rock bands of the last decades, whose enigmatic paths have proceeded from acoustic passages to symphonic heavy metal and from catchy folk to progressive majesty. If there is one trait the band has year after year, it might be this: expect something familiar but also expect the unexpected. NIGHTWISH has indeed broken all kinds of boundaries – never deliberately, but perfectly naturally.
Now guess what? NIGHTWISH's new studio album ""Yesterwynde"" – the band's tenth overall – is no exception to the rule. But it is more...

“""Yesterwynde"" took more time to make than any previous NIGHTWISH album”, nods keyboardist Tuomas Holopainen, who once again envisioned most of the material. ""The new album was intensively worked on for 3,5 years. My ambition and piety really skyrocketed, and I just couldn't let go of the creative process – and didn't want to. Along the way, ""Yesterwynde"" became both an exhilarating obsession and a comforting haven for me. All aspects of the making – compositions, lyrics, arrangements, cover art, videos, mixing and so on – were given more attention than ever before.""
The result? There's a fascinating, but inexplicable feeling that NIGHTWISH has once again been able to find unprecedented nuances, spices and perspectives in their new works – exactly: after a career of nine classic albums. """"Yesterwynde"" is an experience that takes time to digest. The gravid ingredients of the songs are easily recognizable, but beneath the surface lies a large number of intriguing details and features"", Holopainen describes.

""It's interesting – but not surprising – that ""Yesterwynde"" has attracted quite a variety of opinions. Some have stated that it is the most 'band' record to date. For some it appears to be the heaviest and most ominous NIGHTWISH release. It has also been called our most progressive album. And the list goes on.""
And what does Tuomas think of it himself?
""To me, ""Yesterwynde"" sounds, tastes and feels strongly like the true essence of NIGHTWISH – enriched with new moods and flavors.""

The lyrics of ""Yesterwynde"" deal with large-sized universal themes: memories, mortality, humanism, time and much more. ""The new album is the conclusion of the trilogy – textually it follows in the footsteps of its predecessors ""Endless Forms Most Beautiful"" and ""Human. :II: Nature."""", Holopainen says. ""At the same time, ""Yesterwynde"" is the band's most lyrically driven album: our music has never been so 'married' to the lyrics. So here's a tip: if something in the composition puzzles you, the words might clear it up.""
""For me, one of the key lines is 'we are because of a million loves' – taken from the song ""Perfume of the Timeless"". Each of us is part of an unbroken chain that stretches back billions of years. If even one of your ancestors had died too young – mauled by a cave bear, for example – during this incredibly long period of time, you would never have been born. In other words: our existence is such an unfathomable privilege!”

What does the term 'yesterwynde' mean?
""It describes a feeling that cannot be found in any human language. That's why we had to invent a whole new word. The album is supposed to open that feeling to the listener.""
Without taking anything away from the solid delivery of guitarist Emppu Vuorinen, drummer Kai Hahto, bassist Jukka Koskinen and multi-instrumentalist/singer Troy Donockley, it might be worth highlighting one fact: the performance of the eloquent storyteller Floor Jansen is once again unparalleled. It is simply breathtaking how the singer is able to make songs fly with her performance. ""Floor's second child was born just over a month ago, and we hadn't rehearsed together at all... So it was a little nerve-wracking to go to Floor's home studio for vocal recordings. Well, what happened? We had booked twelve working days and after six days everything was completed in style. Floor's preparedness for the sessions was something extreme!""

After the recordings and mixing process, there was one more working phase. Mastering. Could you possibly guess that no shortcuts were taken at this point either?
""The album was mastered seven times until we reached the finish line – one hundred percent satisfied!"", states Tuomas. ""When the record was eventually finished, a three-year, extremely inspiring adventure had come to an end. I felt very, very happy.""
NIGHTWISH's next steps are clear. And they are not the most common ones.
""NIGHTWISH will not go on a world tour this time. This was a decision made for personal reasons. But don't worry... Our contract with Nuclear Blast Records includes several albums, and there's plenty of motivation to create new music!""
May the dream continue...
"

"They are the Finnish / Dutch / British troupe NIGHTWISH – one of the most fascinating rock bands of the last decades, whose enigmatic paths have proceeded from acoustic passages to symphonic heavy metal and from catchy folk to progressive majesty. If there is one trait the band has year after year, it might be this: expect something familiar but also expect the unexpected. NIGHTWISH has indeed broken all kinds of boundaries – never deliberately, but perfectly naturally.
Now guess what? NIGHTWISH's new studio album ""Yesterwynde"" – the band's tenth overall – is no exception to the rule. But it is more...

“""Yesterwynde"" took more time to make than any previous NIGHTWISH album”, nods keyboardist Tuomas Holopainen, who once again envisioned most of the material. ""The new album was intensively worked on for 3,5 years. My ambition and piety really skyrocketed, and I just couldn't let go of the creative process – and didn't want to. Along the way, ""Yesterwynde"" became both an exhilarating obsession and a comforting haven for me. All aspects of the making – compositions, lyrics, arrangements, cover art, videos, mixing and so on – were given more attention than ever before.""
The result? There's a fascinating, but inexplicable feeling that NIGHTWISH has once again been able to find unprecedented nuances, spices and perspectives in their new works – exactly: after a career of nine classic albums. """"Yesterwynde"" is an experience that takes time to digest. The gravid ingredients of the songs are easily recognizable, but beneath the surface lies a large number of intriguing details and features"", Holopainen describes.

""It's interesting – but not surprising – that ""Yesterwynde"" has attracted quite a variety of opinions. Some have stated that it is the most 'band' record to date. For some it appears to be the heaviest and most ominous NIGHTWISH release. It has also been called our most progressive album. And the list goes on.""
And what does Tuomas think of it himself?
""To me, ""Yesterwynde"" sounds, tastes and feels strongly like the true essence of NIGHTWISH – enriched with new moods and flavors.""

The lyrics of ""Yesterwynde"" deal with large-sized universal themes: memories, mortality, humanism, time and much more. ""The new album is the conclusion of the trilogy – textually it follows in the footsteps of its predecessors ""Endless Forms Most Beautiful"" and ""Human. :II: Nature."""", Holopainen says. ""At the same time, ""Yesterwynde"" is the band's most lyrically driven album: our music has never been so 'married' to the lyrics. So here's a tip: if something in the composition puzzles you, the words might clear it up.""
""For me, one of the key lines is 'we are because of a million loves' – taken from the song ""Perfume of the Timeless"". Each of us is part of an unbroken chain that stretches back billions of years. If even one of your ancestors had died too young – mauled by a cave bear, for example – during this incredibly long period of time, you would never have been born. In other words: our existence is such an unfathomable privilege!”

What does the term 'yesterwynde' mean?
""It describes a feeling that cannot be found in any human language. That's why we had to invent a whole new word. The album is supposed to open that feeling to the listener.""
Without taking anything away from the solid delivery of guitarist Emppu Vuorinen, drummer Kai Hahto, bassist Jukka Koskinen and multi-instrumentalist/singer Troy Donockley, it might be worth highlighting one fact: the performance of the eloquent storyteller Floor Jansen is once again unparalleled. It is simply breathtaking how the singer is able to make songs fly with her performance. ""Floor's second child was born just over a month ago, and we hadn't rehearsed together at all... So it was a little nerve-wracking to go to Floor's home studio for vocal recordings. Well, what happened? We had booked twelve working days and after six days everything was completed in style. Floor's preparedness for the sessions was something extreme!""

After the recordings and mixing process, there was one more working phase. Mastering. Could you possibly guess that no shortcuts were taken at this point either?
""The album was mastered seven times until we reached the finish line – one hundred percent satisfied!"", states Tuomas. ""When the record was eventually finished, a three-year, extremely inspiring adventure had come to an end. I felt very, very happy.""
NIGHTWISH's next steps are clear. And they are not the most common ones.
""NIGHTWISH will not go on a world tour this time. This was a decision made for personal reasons. But don't worry... Our contract with Nuclear Blast Records includes several albums, and there's plenty of motivation to create new music!""
May the dream continue...
"

Cate Brooks is back with her seventh release for Clay Pipe Music. Never one to stand still, ‘Easel Studies’ finds her pushing the boundaries of sound synthesis and experimentation on the Buchla Music Easel while still sounding beautifully beguiling and hypnotically melodic.

"On this day in 2015, at exactly Midday, I took delivery of a wildly exotic musical instrument. To call it a synthesizer would be a misrepresentation; it’s really more of a tactile, living, breathing entity than anything else. It had originally supposed to have been delivered on the day before, but had somehow been mislaid in the labyrinths of the Royal Mail sorting office at Elephant and Castle.

I sat patiently and quietly all morning, waiting for its imminent arrival. I had already read through the ‘manual’, which is more of a concept / design for living, written by synthesis legend Allen Strange.

With Noon approaching, I became a little anxious- my local postie, Barrie, was usually here by about 10:30am and there was no sign of him.

At 11:58, Barrie walked past, completely ignoring my house. Obviously concerned, I stood at the door and waited for him to walk back toward his van. As he came back, he smiled and I called out, quizzically “Barrie?”. His reply was “Yes I have!” and walked back to his van, collecting a large box and bringing it to my door. I remember the weather was muggy and my neighbour was attending to her rose bushes, as the cheery and helpful postie deftly navigated around her busy secateurs.

I took the box inside, opened the top and just looked at the inner box for a while. I took a photo of it, which I still have. It felt like quite a momentous occasion, because I felt that this instrument would take me to different sonic spaces than I was used to. It wasn’t my first experience with Don Buchla’s instruments by any means, as I’d learned to use his 200e system. But this was quite a different beast.

My cat Brillo came to inspect the box and I set the Music Easel up on the floor and plugged it in. The result of that very first experiment became “Pendula”.

In the following days and weeks of that summer, I created many more experiments on the Easel, quite often with Brillo either sat on me as I played, or trying to climb up on the instrument itself, attempting to move the faders and switches himself.

By the end of August, I had amassed some thirty-something pieces, which I put aside for future reference. I had learned a lot about this instrument, its idiosyncrasies, subtleties and ways of working.

Sadly, Brillo died in September of 2015. I like to think that his last summer with me was a comforting experience, curling up and listening to the sonic experiments taking place, as he regularly did for the sixteen years he was with me. The first track on the album, “Con Brillo” is my little tribute to him.

Fast forward to 2021 and I rediscovered all of these experiments. Some were almost unlistenable, but some had a beguiling charm about them- perhaps the sound of someone not really knowing what they’re getting into. They needed mixing and balancing, so I set to work. I also wrote a new piece, with exactly the same recording chain, in the same way, in the same room. This became the suitably titled final track “Hindsight”.

The Music Easel has remained a constant source of sonic worlds for me to explore. It because the main instrument on the album Agri Montana, for example and has cropped up on many other records I’ve made since.

I would especially like to thank David at Postmodular for selling the Music Easel to me, after phoning him and disturbing his Sunday afternoon outing to Hyde Park (sorry about that David). I always promised I would send him a copy of something I had produced on it, so hopefully he will enjoy Easel Studies."

As I finish writing this, I notice that it is, once more, exactly Midday.

I hope you enjoy Easel Studies too.

Cate Brooks (21st of May, 2023).

Meltheads have been spreading wildfire on stages in Belgium and The Netherlands for a good while now, driven by the metronomically tight rhythm section of Tim Pensaert (bass) and Simon de Geus (drums), and fuelled by the razor-sharp and skilful guitar of Yunas de Proost. And then there’s frontman Sietse Willems, a man born to be on stage, like Morrison, Plant and Iggy Pop in one brutal and gnarly package. On 9 February they will be releasing the long-awaited debut album ‘Decent Sex’. The album kicks off with the title track, linking Stooges to The Doors, and not beating about the bush: it’s going to be at breakneck speed, and it’s going to be loud. Just 30 minutes later, once the final notes of fever dream Melvin have died out, ‘Decent Sex’ leaves you knocked out on the floor after an insane trip along blaring post punk, visceral noise, sweeping psych and good old rock ‘n’ roll. Part of the world is already turning its head, as renowned radio stations like KEXP and Radio X Manchester are picking up songs like I Want It All and Theodore, and fellow Antwerp based rock legends dEUS took them on tour, even as far as London’s Electric Brixton. Influential music magazines like Visions (DE), Clash and DIY (UK) dug up superlatives – and comparisons to The Birthday Party – for Theodore, a song about looking for (self) love, but also about the mess drug use can lead to. All not very uplifting, and most themes return in several songs, like the dark side to relationships and sex (White Lies, Decent Sex), or toxic masculinity (Vegan Leather Boots, Theodore again) and even politics (No One Is Innocent, Arbeit). Pretty heavy stuff, but wrapped in the highly infectious and piercing guitar rock Meltheads are serving, it’s going like a bomb. Decent Sex is out on 9 February, followed by release shows in Belgium, The Netherlands and Paris. At the end of January, Meltheads will vigorously kick off the year with a show at the highly influential ESNS showcase festival, where the part of the world that is still in blissful ignorance will get to know the brute force of Meltheads.

Decent Sex by Meltheads, released 9 February 2024, includes the following tracks: "Vegan Leather Boots ", "White Lies ", "No One Is Innocent ", "Gear " and more.

Formed in Fullerton, CA in 1978, Social Distortion were one of the original LA punk groups and their first single was released on legendary LA punk label Posh Boy. But far more rare than that first single ("Mainliner" b/w "Playpen") is the unreleased EP Posh Boy's Little Monsters. This EP only made it to the test pressing stage back in 1981, and featured those two tracks from the first single along with "All The Answers" and "Justice For All." This is the absolute holy grail for Social Distortion fans and it's finally available in commercial form on two limited edition pressings for RSD 2019, black vinyl available worldwide and a Europe only red vinyl limited edition. Includes 2 bonus tracks.
“Of the 3 teenagers who recorded for me, one has died, another was believed to be dead and one became immensely wealthy from playing music. The one who did hard time in prison was not Mike Ness. It was the drummer Carrot, better known as John Stevenson, now living a very ordinary life in rural Florida.
I now count John as a dear friend. Apparently, he was only l6 years old when he rolled into the studio that day in April l98l, armed with a taped up pair of drumsticks. He played great as did both Mike and Dennis (RIP). This time there was no fighting in the studio over production values. I had promised Ness that we would not fight so once there was a minor disagreement over the artwork for the proposed l2", I dropped the project in favor of the Playpen/Mainliner 7" which sported iconic artwork from the band.”

“A piece of music never truly comes to An end. Revisiting a theme illustrates this idea that life goes on.” These are the words of Wayne Shorter, uttered in 2018 upon the release of Emanon, his final opus. On this record, the octogenarian uses dusky hues to shade in the passions of his youth - drawing and science-fiction, as well as the causes he has defended all his life - the fight against ecological upheaval and structural racism. This sentiment did not fail to resonate with Julien Lourau, who has reached a stage in life where he has begun to look back over certain pages written by the man he has always considered one of the masters of his trade. Five years later, this Parisian native has also chosen to revisit his glory days, offering reworked versions of specific tracks composed by his titular elder throughout the 80s. “When I play this music, I find myself back in my teenage bedroom. These are my standards, and they remind me of autumn in Rambouillet.” At that time, after practising his scales, Julien would also play Dungeons & dragons, and immerse himself in SF as well as heroic fantasy - epic influences which are not without a certain connection to the dreamworlds Shorter conjured up, as another fan of landscapes beyond the grasp of reality.

This album features four themes taken from Atlantis, which came out in 1985, and two from Joy Ryder, released three years later. To these, he has added a composition penned at around the same time for Sportin’ Life, the penultimate LP by Weather Report. This is rounded off by a tune taken

from Native Dancer, the record which, ten years earlier, in 1975, brought together this saxophonist who learnt his trade alongside Art Blakey, before joining Miles’ second quintet, and Brazilian Milton Nascimento.

“Between Native Dancer and Atlantis, Shorter did not release anything under his own name, but he took the time and care to really perfect his writing. Upon his return, he injected a very Brazilian form of subtlety into his compositions, especially rhythmically. And from a harmonic point of view, these themes are extremely sophisticated, and reveal truly singular colours. In fact, he decided to display the score as if it constituted the liner notes of Atlantis.”

Julien Lourau is a fan of every Wayne Shorter era, from his Blue Note days, where Mr Gone defined the bases of a truly unique repertoire, all the way to his final quartet - a reference like no other. He decided to focus on this “highly electric” period, which is not necessarily Shorter’s best known, nor his most widely appreciated - despite being a unanimous reference, Shorter has nonetheless never had a direct descendent. In Lourau’s line of sight there lies a desire to focus on typically South American tonic accents which characterise this repertoire, twinned with the ambition to switch up their actual sound “by attempting to open up onto a production highly influenced by eighties fusion". However, he admits that modifying the structures of these most unique of worlds constituted a fresh challenge. “There’s this labyrinthine harmonic system where you’ve no idea how it holds together, but where it’s actually impossible to touch the slightest element without the whole edifice wavering. It is in fact a very difficult thing to achieve!”

In order to successfully transcribe all this creativity free of obstacles, Julien Lourau once again called upon the help of Mathieu Debordes. From January 2023 onwards, Mathieu endeavoured to break down all the musical elements, on paper, before creating any actual music. The record was therefore constructed on the faith of these scores, without necessarily transiting through a creative residency - just two live gigs, to make sure the setup worked. Besides Mathieu Debordes and his synthesisers, Julien Lourau has assembled an ad hoc team by his side. On the bass, according to the track, we can hear erstwhile companion Sylvain Daniel or a new acolyte on the fretless bass, Joan Eche Puig.

Stéphane Edouard, on percussion, even dives headfirst into an unlikely proto-rap of sorts, on Pearl On The Half Shell (where, on the original version, Bobby McFerrin adjusted his interventions in a rather madcap style). Aesthete and drummer Jim Hart as well as pianist Leo Jassef also figure on this release - both were present on previous project devoted to label

CTI. “At sixteen, I wanted to sound like Michael Brecker rather than Ben Webster - that was equated with modernity in those days”, adds Julien with a smile, as for him, all this rings out a little like a logical next step, a joyful immersion into the fountain of youth. And if, for this record, he plays the soprano more than ever, the saxophone Shorter set in his sights on, he never tries to replicate an unattainable ideal note by note. What would be the point?

“Wayne Shorter is not just a saxophonist’s saxophonist. In fact, I don’t know a single person who has risen to challenge of his solos. I have not done it myself either, but on the other hand, I have retained a lot of his phraseology. His way of approaching the instrument reveals a more evanescent language, a work on colour and shape. Keeping this in mind has allowed me to gravitate towards certain elements, that in hindsight, I find echoes of in my work, even in Groove Gang.” Shorter etches out these phrases, creating a groove within which Lourau had traced subtle punctuation, managing, from a highly written base, to create fresh apertures, promises of a great escape. Emblematic of this standpoint, his regal version of Ponte de Areia, originally a wonderful dialogue between Milton Nascimento and Wayne Shorter. Here, the Frenchman takes liberties with the original melodies, without ever growing distant from the original spirit, extending one section with delicacy, offering a rubato development and then a groove “like a little suite”. Julien Lourau also renews with an accomplice from last century, Magic Malik, who lends his high-pitched vocals to the track. Though they had not recorded together for more than twenty years, the two of them got on as if they had only ceased collaborating yesterday, everything flowed naturally. The track was wrapped up in just one take, much like other themes, such as opener Who Goes There where the flautist deploys smooth, enchanted and smoky wisps.

Fundamentally, reflecting of the sleeve which features a child playing with a ball, image that could symbolise the sun just as much as the moon, Julien Lourau manages to translate the ambiguous candour which characterizes Shorter’s work - solar and crepuscular at the same time, that of a visionary and poet definitively situated outside of all chronology, but with whom Julien shares surprising and ‘timely’ coincidences. Shorter was born August 25, 1933, the same day as Julien’s father, “if we take time zones into account”, and who died on Lourau’s birthday, March 2, 2023. Should we take this as a random fact? Or could we not see here the sign of a destiny connecting the agnostic Frenchman to the man who, as a fervent Buddhist, believed in the transmission of his spiritual flow ?

In the decade or so that hard-working New York quartet Sunwatchers have operated, the group has steadily & subtly refined their sound - a brain-blasting mixture of jazz, psychedelia, krautrock, punk, noise, & Saharan blues - into something that is avant-leaning enough to appeal to the discerning jazz & experimental music fan & weird & wooly enough to get the true heads' toes tapping. "Music Is Victory Over Time" is the band's 5th album, and fourth for Chicago-based Trouble In Mind Records, seeing the long-running lineup of Peter Kerlin (bass guitar), Jim McHugh (guitars), Jason Robira (drums), and Jeff Tobias (alto saxophone and keyboards) in prime form. Album opener "World People" is a classic Sunwatchers number whose title expresses their Anarcho-Internationalist ideology (and the atypically multi-culti make up of their crowds), with an underlying melodic resonance to New Orleans funeral marches à la Albert Ayler _ a triumphant call to arms to all peoples. Live fave "Too Gary"'s gang vocal shout punctuates a motorik rager named for a phrase often uttered by a badass eight year old skateboarder McHugh knew with a speech impediment (it means "that's too scary"). "T.A.S.C." (or "Theme For Anarchist Sports Center") is inspired by Sonny Sharrock's maligned 80's output & sounds exactly like a wrathful, mutant version of a prime-time athletic show theme, replete with the requisite "sitcom ending." The sun- scorched "Foams" - a longform piece intended to depict natural stuff like tides, nightfall, and time slowly passing, ancient, peaceful and slightly gross all at once - practically jumps out of the speakers, its palpable intensity crackling in your eardrums. The title of "Tumulus" might reference an ancient burial mound, but the music itself might be the group's most high-tech song to date, complimented by an arpeggiating sequencer, three different forms of tape delay and an electric saxophone; ecstatic, fiery & deeply spiritual. "There Goes Ol' Ooze" is a smoky creeper that lets Tobias & Kerlin take a walk for a while, with respectful nods to the Stones and Steve Reich. "Song For The Gone" closes out the album, showcasing a sincerely tender moment for the gang, as an expression of love and resolve for dear friends who had recently, tragically died. Its cascading, bluesy melody attuning itself to our own collective unconscious grief. Having the distinct pleasure of being the first band to record in John Dwyer 's new LA-based recording studio Discount Mirrors, "Music Is Victory Over Time" boasts a beefed up sound. The band worked closely with in-house engineer Eric Bauer - facilitator, troubleshooter, sonic obsessive, a legendary freak and a DIY lifer. The band also had full access to the studio's epic armory of gear: amps, axes (it's Dwyer's Eddie Harris model electric sax), synths, a bass guitar once belonging to Klaus Flouride of the Dead Kennedys. Crucial for the sounds and the vibe. The album art was created by Josh MacPhee, the activist artist, author, archivist and founding member of both the radical artist collective Just Seeds and Interference Archive, a public collection of materials from social movements based in Brooklyn. MacPhee's participation in the project works as a statement of Sunwatchers' progressive utopian intentionality, and organically underscores their involvement in revolutionary projects within and without of their hometown. Listening to "Music Is Victory Over Time", Sunwatcher's rebellious spirit & unbridled enthusiasm remain fully intact, but the secret sauce is their infectious irreverence in the face of the horrors of this world. Much of our best cultural commentary is Trojan-horsed to the general public via humor & satire & the band has a knack for lacing the ridiculous with the radical. It's good to have them back. "Music Is Victory Over Time" is released worldwide digitally via most DSPs, on CD, black vinyl & a limited "Sunflare" blue/red splatter vinyl while supplies last.

In the decade or so that hard-working New York quartet Sunwatchers have operated, the group has steadily & subtly refined their sound - a brain-blasting mixture of jazz, psychedelia, krautrock, punk, noise, & Saharan blues - into something that is avant-leaning enough to appeal to the discerning jazz & experimental music fan & weird & wooly enough to get the true heads' toes tapping. "Music Is Victory Over Time" is the band's 5th album, and fourth for Chicago-based Trouble In Mind Records, seeing the long-running lineup of Peter Kerlin (bass guitar), Jim McHugh (guitars), Jason Robira (drums), and Jeff Tobias (alto saxophone and keyboards) in prime form. Album opener "World People" is a classic Sunwatchers number whose title expresses their Anarcho-Internationalist ideology (and the atypically multi-culti make up of their crowds), with an underlying melodic resonance to New Orleans funeral marches à la Albert Ayler _ a triumphant call to arms to all peoples. Live fave "Too Gary"'s gang vocal shout punctuates a motorik rager named for a phrase often uttered by a badass eight year old skateboarder McHugh knew with a speech impediment (it means "that's too scary"). "T.A.S.C." (or "Theme For Anarchist Sports Center") is inspired by Sonny Sharrock's maligned 80's output & sounds exactly like a wrathful, mutant version of a prime-time athletic show theme, replete with the requisite "sitcom ending." The sun- scorched "Foams" - a longform piece intended to depict natural stuff like tides, nightfall, and time slowly passing, ancient, peaceful and slightly gross all at once - practically jumps out of the speakers, its palpable intensity crackling in your eardrums. The title of "Tumulus" might reference an ancient burial mound, but the music itself might be the group's most high-tech song to date, complimented by an arpeggiating sequencer, three different forms of tape delay and an electric saxophone; ecstatic, fiery & deeply spiritual. "There Goes Ol' Ooze" is a smoky creeper that lets Tobias & Kerlin take a walk for a while, with respectful nods to the Stones and Steve Reich. "Song For The Gone" closes out the album, showcasing a sincerely tender moment for the gang, as an expression of love and resolve for dear friends who had recently, tragically died. Its cascading, bluesy melody attuning itself to our own collective unconscious grief. Having the distinct pleasure of being the first band to record in John Dwyer 's new LA-based recording studio Discount Mirrors, "Music Is Victory Over Time" boasts a beefed up sound. The band worked closely with in-house engineer Eric Bauer - facilitator, troubleshooter, sonic obsessive, a legendary freak and a DIY lifer. The band also had full access to the studio's epic armory of gear: amps, axes (it's Dwyer's Eddie Harris model electric sax), synths, a bass guitar once belonging to Klaus Flouride of the Dead Kennedys. Crucial for the sounds and the vibe. The album art was created by Josh MacPhee, the activist artist, author, archivist and founding member of both the radical artist collective Just Seeds and Interference Archive, a public collection of materials from social movements based in Brooklyn. MacPhee's participation in the project works as a statement of Sunwatchers' progressive utopian intentionality, and organically underscores their involvement in revolutionary projects within and without of their hometown. Listening to "Music Is Victory Over Time", Sunwatcher's rebellious spirit & unbridled enthusiasm remain fully intact, but the secret sauce is their infectious irreverence in the face of the horrors of this world. Much of our best cultural commentary is Trojan-horsed to the general public via humor & satire & the band has a knack for lacing the ridiculous with the radical. It's good to have them back. "Music Is Victory Over Time" is released worldwide digitally via most DSPs, on CD, black vinyl & a limited "Sunflare" blue/red splatter vinyl while supplies last.

7A Records are proud to announce the release of Micky Dolenz Sings R.E.M., a 4 track EP released
on November 3rd. The EP is comprised of songs R.E.M. wrote throughout their career, all beautifully
reimagined by Dolenz and producer Christian Nesmith. The EP features fresh and completely new
arrangements of some of R.E.M.’s most memorable and catchy songs. As Dolenz says: “Once again,
this EP reaffirms my long-held conviction that a solid recording always begins with solid material. You
don’t get much solid than R.E.M. What a joy to, once again, bring these songs to life”.
R.E.M. Reactions to the EP:
“These songs are ABSOLUTELY INCREDIBLE. Micky Dolenz covering R.E.M. Monkees style, I have
died and gone to heaven. This is really something. Shiny Happy People sounds INCREDIBLE (never
thought you or I would hear me say that!!!). Give it a spin. It’s wild. And produced by Christian Nesmith
(son of Michael Nesmith), I am finally complete”. Michael Stipe
"That voice---one of the main voices of my musical awakening---singing our songs... It is beyond
awesome. Let's help make this as huge as we possibly can. I am beyond thrilled." Mike Mills
"I've been listening to Micky's singing since I was nine years old. It's unreal to hear that very voice,
adding new depth to songs we've written ourselves, and inhabiting them so completely." Peter Buck
"I am blown away! Micky and Christian just take these tracks to unexpected places”. Scott
McCaughey

Sometimes, space is the perfect catalyst for intense creativity. Following the release of their fourth LP, 2019's Your Church On My Bonfire, PAWS - the Scottish DIY indie rock songwriting partnership of Phillip Jon Taylor and Joshua Swinney, toured briefly, and as the world began to shut down, they slipped out of sight. Phillip retreated north to the Highlands where he focused on his painting, solo work and the rewarding demands of fatherhood. Josh headed south to London, pursuing his other passion as a chef at the highly acclaimed Plimsoll. It would have been easy for both to settle into their new lives, but PAWS never died…and neither did the tie connecting the two friends. Having missed playing together for too long, a plan was set and in October 2022 Josh travelled to Phillip's home studio in his crofters cottage where work began on the band's fifth self-titled LP. Relying on a set of phone demos and chemistry honed after years on the road the songs came together surprisingly fast. Having recorded previously with both Blink 182’s Mark Hoppus and Frightened Rabbit’s Andy Monaghan, the band once again seized control of production duties as they had on their sophomore release Youth Culture Forever. Utilizing all they had learned and adding their own DIY ethos into the mix, the music was done in a week. Josh headed home and Phillip set to work on lyrics. The resulting record finds the band as grounded and assured as they ever have been. Marrying the deafening assault of youthful abandon with the whispered reasoning that comes with getting older; swaying from anger and exasperation to wide eyed optimism. PAWS is a succinct, razor wire encased documentary chronicling the pains of modern living. Delving into the dark underbelly of 90s alternative rock, painting with evocative instrumentals and reveling in celebratory indie punk, the band also embrace sordid pop and ambient electronics. And while it pays homage to where they have come from, it also signals a clean slate for the pair. Two friends united over distance. After some time apart, all they needed was a spark.

Teichmann + Söhne’s »Flows« is not so much the result of a collaborative process as it is a process in itself. Over the course of nine pieces, the Gebrüder Teichmann—Andi and Hannes—and their father Uli repeatedly find common ground between the very different musical styles, sound aesthetics, and subcultural codes they have internalised throughout their lives. The source material out of which the album evolved was culled from several recordings of rehearsal sessions in preparation for the trio’s concerts that took place between the years 2012 and 2022. The three added only a few overdubs to those recordings but edited them rigorously to both preserve and transform the spirit of their unlikely collaboration. The combination of Uli’s background as a versatile jazz artist and multi-instrumentalist with his sons’ penchant for dub techniques, modular synthesis, and live sampling as well as their interest in electronic dance music take on ever-different shapes. »Flows,« released on the occasion of Uli’s 80th birthday, is as joyful, lively and free-spirited as its makers.

It took the three musicians decades to get together to jam. Uli and Lu, the mother of Andi and Hannes, ran the legendary Jazzclub Kneiting between 1978 and 1983 while he also made a name for himself as a musician who, besides jazz, is knowledgeable in a plethora of music styles from all over the world and has an instrument collection to match. Naturally, Andi and Hannes rebelled against this versatility by opting for simplicity. Already as pre-teens, they formed a punk band and once they got a whiff of the burgeoning techno scene, strayed even further from their father’s path. They eventually moved from their native Regensburg to Berlin where they made a name for themselves with a slew of releases on seminal labels like Disko B or Kompakt before starting to more regularly collaborate with musicians from the realms of Contemporary Music, Improv, and Sound Art. Even after Uli had finally contributed some saxophone licks to the brother’s 2011 »They Made Us Do It« LP, it indeed needed someone else to make them do it, i.e. finally get together to reconcile their musical differences in a creative way.

Finding out that the three had never performed together, Yoichi Osaki from Berlin’s iconic Miss Hecker venue, a focal point of the city’s so-called Echtzeitmusik (real-time music) and Improv scene, scheduled them to play their first concert on April 1, 2012. Even though the date was chosen deliberately, things got serious very quickly and this first joint concert proved to be the first of many. It also laid the foundation for »Flows« since the three would start recording their rehearsals. Revisiting the roughly 90 recordings, some of which clock in at a full hour, after ten years of playing with each other then started what Hannes describes as a »form-finding process.« It was a holistic one and involved all three of them, extending also to their choice of cover artwork, a piece created by Lu, who died in 2016 and to whom the album is dedicated. For the collage, she had used photos of the place where it all began, Regensburg, and the river that flows through it, the Danube. This made the piece, coincidentally created around the time Teichmann + Söhne started playing their first concerts together, correlate perfectly with the working process of the three musicians on a visual level.

Similarly, Teichmann + Söhne can be thought of as a human-musical collage. It is a meeting of three different musicians who all have in common that they have occupied alternative spaces and perfected a variety of musical styles and subcultural codes throughout their lives. When those flow into each other, this necessarily creates something that is as unique as the nine tracks collected on this album. While it is mostly Uli who takes the lead on pieces like the appropriately titled »Im Zwischen« (»In the Inbetween«), the brothers respond by live sampling his playing, thus serving as a creative interface between acoustic sounds and electronic responses. This in turn provides a framework in which Uli can improvise on a variety of acoustic instruments like the saxophone and the clarinet as well as a mandolin and glockenspiel or even percussion. This indeed makes their music flow—across different generations, between different musical ideas and genres, into previously uncharted territory.

Margo Cilker's sophomore album, Valley of Heart’s Delight, refers to a place she can't return: California’s Santa Clara Valley, as it was known before the orchards were paved over and became more famous for Silicon than apricots. In this 11-song follow-up to 2021's critically acclaimed Pohorylle, family and nature intertwine as guiding motifs, at once precious and endangered, beautiful and exhausting. Cilker and Pohorylle producer Sera Cahoone brought most of that record's highly-acclaimed crew (studio players for The Decemberists, Band Of Horses, and Beirut) back to the studio with additional contributions from acclaimed Northwest traditionalist Caleb Klauder. Valley of Heart's Delight, Cilker's second record on Portland, Oregon label Fluff & Gravy Records, follows a year busily reaping the fruits of Pohorylle's success, with festival appearances at Pickathon, Treefort, and End Of The Road, and tours supporting American Aquarium, Hayes Carll, Drive-By Truckers, and Joshua Ray Walker. Margo Cilker lives near the Columbia River in Goldendale, Washington with her husband, songwriter and working cowboy Forrest VanTuyl, as well as their dog and some horses.

Nonesuch releases Sorry I Haven’t Called, the new album by Vagabon, the moniker of Lætitia Tamko. Co-produced by Tamko and Rostam (Vampire Weekend, Haim, Clairo), it finds Tamko reinventing herself once again and features the most playful and adventurous music of her career, as evidenced by its lead track and opening song ‘Can I Talk My Shit?’. Vagabon has also announced an autumn tour that includes a headline run in the US, as well as European dates with Weyes Blood.



“I didn’t feel like being introspective,” says Tamko of her new album. “I just wanted to have fun.” Following her intimate 2017 debut Infinite Worlds, the New York artist favoured expansive and evocative electronic textures in her breakthrough 2019 self-titled follow-up. But her latest album feels like a wholly new era for Tamko, one that’s transformational and uncompromising. Across 12 vibrant tracks she wrote and produced primarily in Germany, she channels dance music and effervescent pop through her own confident sensibilities. These conversational songs are alive and unselfconscious, a document of an artist fully embracing her vision and reclaiming her joy.



The first words she sings on the album are, “Can I talk my shit? / I got way too high for this.” It’s a statement of purpose for the rest of the album that this is an unapologetic artist. “This whole record is how I talk to my friends and how to talk to my lovers,” says Tamko. “I think honesty and conversational songwriting can become poetry. There’s beauty in plainly speaking without metaphors and without flowery imagery.”



The story of Sorry I Haven’t Called started in grief after Tamko’s best friend died in 2021. This devastating and unexpected loss unmoored Tamko but also gave her a newfound clarity. “The things that I thought I cared about, I no longer cared about,” she says. “I had a realization that I need to make sure to feel everything that comes my way.” She decided to sell her things and move to a small lakeside village a few hours north of Hamburg in northern Germany to process everything. “There's no linear path to grief, and everyone handles it differently, but uprooting my life just felt like exactly what I had to do,” says Tamko. “I needed a place to think and go through my discomfort privately but to also explore the newness and urgency I was feeling in my life.” In the village, her phone didn’t work and there were no close grocery stores or restaurants, so she spent her time alone working on music.



Despite the palpable absence in her life, her new songs were her most disarming and ebullient yet. The first one she wrote was ‘Carpenter’, a mesmerizing track anchored by a tangible bass groove, where she sings, “I wasn’t ready to move on out / but I'm more ready now.” It’s a fully-realised track and feels like the culmination of her catalogue so far. “A lot of the music that I was making there had nothing to do with my grief at all,” says Tamko. “Once I gave myself permission to make a record that's full of life and energy, I realized that’s the point of this album. In the midst of going through all of these tough things, it became a record because of the vitality that these songs had.” For Tamko, there’s power in pursuing happiness.



While writing in Germany, Tamko nurtured her love for dance music and let it seep into her new songs. “The only things that were giving me access to a feeling were dance music and going to a rave in an extremely dark club where if I wanted to cry, I could do it and be around other people,” she says.



After a few months in Germany that included marathon writing sessions and a whirlwind romance, Tamko decided to stay with friends in Los Angeles and finish her record. She enlisted co-producer Rostam to help her unify her vision.



Sorry I Haven’t Called is a warm and resilient album about embracing the ecstatic moments wherever you can by knowing how you love and how you mourn. It’s an album born of both communal dancefloor revelations and the clarifying peace from solitude, an emotional rebirth as well as an artistic one. “This record feels like what I've been working towards,” says Tamko. “When I think of this album, I think of playfulness. It's completely euphoric. It's because things were dark that this record is so full of life and energy. It’s a reaction to what I was experiencing at the time, not a document of it.”

First time reissue of mega rare 1972 psych-folk album from Venezuela.
180g LP.
One of the most obscure records ever released in Venezuela that was originally distributed in tiny quantities as a promo-only album.

A magic blend of protest songwriting, with a strong environmentalist statement, and folky pop with psych ingredients —such as the use of sitar sounds— recorded by the collective of artists “Una Luz”, and “El Zigui” who was once described as the local Bob Dylan.

The late ‘60s was a short period of time, long enough to turn the world upside down.

Music, paying attention to the ancient Greeks who said that changes in society are also reflected in it, also undergoes violent transformations in its structure. The turbulent joy of rock and roll and twist gives way to the meditative sounds of the waves of the sea contained in surf to finally welcome music of soft and delicate harmonies with songs full of references in their lyrics to the state of society and their relationships with the environment.

On the other hand, in Venezuela, although the expansive wave of May 68 had not reached it, a certain degree of dissatisfaction began to be perceived, especially through the music of a singer-songwriter from the countryside of Venezuela known as Ali Primera, El Cantor del Pueblo. Thanks to a scholarship from the German government, he studied for a few years in that country, and it was there that he recorded his first album, with songs whose lyrics reflect the essence of authors such as Bob Dylan and Atahualpa Yupanqui. And Ali Primera becomes one of the greatest influences of our artist: El Zigui.

Guillermo Sánchez Corao —known as El Zigui for some strange reason— was born in the Venezuelan city of Maracay, capital of the State of Aragua, on January 13, 1948. From a very young age he began to study guitar playing and, already in his teens, we can find him as part of the duo El Zigui & Franklin together with Franklin Laudelino Mejías, another young man with a great musical pedigree.

It is during his bohemian phase as a troubadour, in the surroundings of the Ateneo de Caracas, when his music caught the attention of producer Mario Tepedino, the most important youth music producer at the time. Mario takes him to his TV show “2001 Juvenil”. With the incorporation of other musicians such as Rubén "Micho" Correa —who would later become a great arranger and record producer— he created the group El Zigui y Una Luz, which would later be joined by musicians such as Carlos "Nene" Quintero and Alfredo Padilla, members of the amazing Grupo Pan. Later on, another outstanding singer would also join Una Luz: Guillermo Carrasco.

With this formation they made it into a recording studio in 1972 where they managed to record, in just 30 hours, a long-playing album of which only 60 copies were pressed and has therefore gained cult status among collectors. As expected, the strong content of the lyrics was not supported by the media, making the promotion of the album impossible to accomplish. However, it was with the help of Mario Tepedino that they made it to television, with appearances on “2001 Juvenil” and “Antesala Lunar”, a show that was especially produced for the broadcast of the arrival of man on the Moon.

That was probably one of the main reasons for El Zigui to move to Canada and then France until 1978 when he returns to Venezuela. He would then join bands like Xabañón, Fogón and De Vuelta al Futuro, a 12-member super group. The former members of Una Luz had become well known musicians in the country, especially Guillermo Carrasco who was one of the greatest ballad artists in the ‘80s and targeted by the biggest record companies at the time. El Zigui died in a traffic accident on June 22, 1999. If he had lived through these crazy times... where would he have gone?

First-ever reissue of the 1988 album. Gatefold LP includes new and restored artwork and a chapbook, featuring forty-eight pages of lyrics, essays, photographs, and Gordon's extraordinary drawings for each song. The Choctaw, Assiniboine, and Texan poet, journalist, visual artist, American Indian Movement activist, and musician Roxy Gordon (First Coyote Boy) (1945-2000) was above all a storyteller, known primarily as a writer of inimitable style and unvarnished candor, whose wide-ranging work encompassed poetry, short fiction, essays, memoirs, journalism, and criticism. Over the course of his career he recorded six albums, wrote six books, and published hundreds of shorter texts in outlets ranging from Rolling Stone and The Village Voice to the Coleman Chronicle and Democrat-Voice, in addition to founding and operating, with his wife Judy Gordon, Wowapi Press and the underground country music journal Picking Up the Tempo. Along the way he cultivated close friendships with fellow Texan songwriters such as Lubbockites Terry Allen, Butch Hancock, and Tommy X. Hancock, as well as Ray Wylie Hubbard, Billy Joe Shaver, and, most famously, Townes Van Zandt, whom he called his brother. Although his work covered a vast array of topics exploring strata personal, local, global, and cosmic alike, Gordon's primary subject as a writer, musician, and visual artist was always American Indian culture, specifically the ways it collided and coexisted with European American culture in the South and West-and within the context of his own life and braided identity. The ten songs on Crazy Horse Never Died, his first officially released and distributed album, were recorded in Dallas in 1988. "Songs" is perhaps an imprecise taxonomy for what Roxy captured on this and his other albums, all of which remain out of print or were released in instantly obscure limited editions of homebrew cassettes and CD-R's. (Paradise of Bachelors plans to reissue remastered, expanded editions of his catalog; Crazy Horse is the first.) He only occasionally attempted to sing, and his musical recordings are primarily corollaries of, and vehicles for, his poems. His sharp West Texan drawl, tinged by formative years of reservation living in Montana and unmistakable once you hear it-high, lonesome, flat, and cold-blooded as a bare rusty blade-instead patiently unfurls in skewed sheets of anecdotal verse and discursive narrative rants. Although Gordon's music at times incorporated powwow style drumming, fiddling, or unaccompanied ballad singing, the majority of it hews to an idiosyncratic spoken word style, accompanied by atmospheric, sometimes synth-damaged country-rock that skirts ambient textures and postpunk deconstructions. His songs are essentially recitations over backing tracks of finger picked guitars, rubbery washtub bass, and buzzing, oscillating keyboards. On the stark yellow and red jacket of Crazy Horse, which he designed himself, Gordon describes these recordings as innately ambivalent in terms of form, content, and identity: These are poems and/or songs about the American West, white and Indian. My life has been Indian and/or white. Maybe there's not a lot of difference-maybe. I guess that's mostly according to which white person or which Indian you're talking about. That's probably what this album's about. Crazy Horse Never Died comprises songs that span the personal and political arcs of his writing practice and the poles of his native and white ancestries.

An unmissable pairing of Texan-born soul queens! Ruby Wilson was Memphis based for most of her life whilst Emily spent her formative years in Houston before relocating to Stockton, CA, to raise her family. Both were signed to Malaco Records in Jackson, MS, where these two timeless example of Southern Soul were recorded nearly 30 years apart and now appear on 7” vinyl for the first time.
Ruby Wilson first came to our attention in the mid-70s with two singles on T.K. subsidiary Glades, with Number One In Your Heart and the funkier Sky High both still sounding good today. She signed to Malaco during their most fruitful period, and her self-titled album in 1981, from which this classy below-midpaced selection comes, despite being a typically polished affair never reached the highs with the label that Jewel Bass, Fern Kinney, and of course Dorothy Moore had set over the previous few years. It remained her only outing with them, but she went on to make a further three albums in the late 80s with the Hot Cotton Jazz Band, one with the Climax Jazz Band, and finally back on her own A Song For You (2000 Cadre Ent.) and Show You A Good Time (2005 Unkut Music). She became an accomplished actress and was also known as the Queen Of Beale Street for her many club performances in Memphis. Sadly, Ruby died in 2016, but hopefully this release on Jai Alai will help us remember what a talent she really was.
Not only is Emily David an extraordinary talent, she is a remarkable woman too. Her only album Queen Emily was a direct result of her finishing as a semi-finalist of America’s Got Talent in 2008 at the tender age of 40. She was no stranger to talent shows having won a Sammy Davis Jr award in 1999, but back then, as a single-mother decided to put her singing career on hold to bring up her two daughters. One day her troubled sister arrived to stay but left without taking her two boys with her, so Emily felt she had to bring up her nephews as well. Her dreams of a musical career had evaporated but years later her daughters encouraged her to try once again.
It was almost a year after America’s Got Talent that Malaco boss Tommy Couch Jr. called out of the blue and offered her a contract without meeting her. As Queen Emily, a digital 4-track EP was released in the US, but her eponymous CD album, bizarrely released by Malaco in the UK before the US, is one of the best examples of 21st century Southern Soul, steeped with the label’s trademark live instrumentation by the Muscle Shoals Horns Rhythm Section and contains a number of polished standards such as Use Me, Angel In Your Arms, I Betcha Didn’t Know That and Going Crazy. However, it is the George Jackson-penned ballad Throw Away Me that really stands out and deservedly received critical acclaim in the UK at the time. It now gets a very welcome vinyl debut on Jai Alai and makes for a fabulous pairing.

This one takes us back! We originally reissued Waltel Branco's 'Meu Balanço' in 1995, it was one of the first releases to come out on Mr Bongo. It is a much-requested title with original copies becoming ever more-scarce and the price tag increasingly rising, so it feels fitting to present this stunning record once again for all to enjoy.

Waltel Branco was born in Paranaguá, Brazil in 1929 and died in Rio de Janeiro in 2018. During his triumphant career he accumulated an impressive musical portfolio. A true maestro who from the 1950s onwards appeared on productions as a guitarist, writer, conductor, composer, and arranger. He worked with some of the greats of Brazilian music including Elis Regina, Dom Um Romao, Bossa Três, Marcos Valle and Tony Bizarro to name just a few.

'Meu Balanço' was originally released on CBS Records Brazil in 1975. It is Brazilian big band, orchestrated jazz-funk at its finest. Echoing the library and film productions created in Europe and the USA at the time, it also displays the hallmarks of Waltel’s heritage with distinct threads of Brazilian flavour running throughout. The musicians on the record include under-the-radar players that were the backbone of the Brazilian music industry in the 1970s including Luizão Maia on bass, Edmundo Maciel on trombone and Paulinho Braga on drums.

The album flirts between jazz-funk, cinematic library excursions, breaks and beats, easy-listening, and 70s cop show instrumentals. It is a breezy ride into Waltel's world, wonderfully nostalgic and of another time and place, yet snippets of the production echo the beats of contemporary hip-hop iconic artists such as Madlib, knxwledge and The Alchemist.

A double treat for those who love timeless Southern Soul flavoured with some of those good ol’ down home blues. Memphis born, and Minneapolis based, Willie Walker can comfortably be included in the pantheon of grittiest soul singers along with Wilson Pickett, Syl Johnson, Lou Rawls, James Carr, Eddie Floyd, Tyrone Davis and L.V. Johnson, to name but a few, but there has always been speculation about other Willie Walkers. The recordings on Eutor and Hi in the 70’s are not by the same Willie as those on Goldwax and Checker in the 60’s. He did, however, also record as Wee Willie Walker.
 
He was a member of The Rhythm Harmonizers, The Val-Dons, The Exciters, The Bound Band, Willie & The Bumblebees (although that Willie is actually Willie Murphy of The Val-Dons), and Canoise, spanning a long and varied career before hooking up with the Minneapolis based band The Butanes in 2004, with whom he made the next three albums. The first of these was mainly cover versions, but "Right Where I Belong" (2004) and "Memphisapolis" (2006) are notable for each providing the tracks that make up this latest Jai Alai release, a label that differs from sister label Soul4Real by featuring 21st century tracks previously CD only but now released on 7” vinyl for the first time. It also has to be noted that all the tracks on both these albums were written and produced by Curtis Obeda, who managed to track down Willie after so many years.
 
“I Feel It” will have been missed by most as it was on the CD "Right Where I Belong" which was released in 2004 on the most unlikely of UK imprints, the Wirral based One On One Records run by Colin Dilnot. The album is a lavish display of real instruments from a band that once backed John Lee Hooker and Little Johnny Taylor and the perfect setting for Willie’s powerful vocals. 
 
Just tipping five glorious minutes, "Cry, Cry, Cry" is a perfect example of why soul music is inextricably linked to the blues, and when the gospel styled chorus joins in towards the end, you realise that this could, maybe should, have carried on for just a little bit longer. Perhaps a fuller length version exists? Sadly, Willie died peacefully in his sleep in November 2019, but to complete his story check out the two albums on Blue Dot as Wee Willie Walker & The Anthony Paule Soul Orchestra. To quote the great Quinton Claunch…”Willie was one of the best to come out of Memphis in the 60’s”.
 
Steve Hobbs
(Solar Radio, Totally Wired Radio)

Ekkehard Ehlers' seminal plays series was originally released on three 12inches (Staubgold) and two 7inches (Bottrop-Boy) in very limited runs. The entire series was previously only available as a CD compilation or digitally. Keplar finally presents it on double vinyl for the first time, featuring a new cover artwork.

Domestic ethnology: Ekkehard Ehlers plays.

‘Play’ is a word in English with many meanings attached. Each one sends you down a different cognitive pathway. When I think of ‘playing’, in the sense of a game, I think of an activity involving more than one person. When Ekkehard Ehlers plays, he is very much on his own. Or, at least, alone but at the same time keeping intimate company with the artistic innovators named in his titles. Robert Johnson. John Cassavetes. Albert Ayler. Cornelius Cardew. Hubert Fichte. Is he playing with them, against them, about them, for them, to them? This can never be known.

It is certainly a mistake to try to hear the ‘work’ of these originals in the sounds played by Ekkehard. They’re not cover versions. They’re hardly tributes in the conventional sense. Cassavetes and Fichte are not even musicians, although music played an important part in both their careers. Sure, there are little nods and flashes of recognition – tiny guitar licks among the minimal beats of ‘Robert Johnson 2’; rich bowed instruments in ‘Albert Ayler’, recalling the violin, cello and double bass arrangements on Ayler’s 1967 Live in Greenwich Village LP; the elongated organ lines of ‘Cornelius Cardew 1’ gesturing towards passages in Paragraph 1 of the British composer’s 1971 Marxist monolith, The Great Learning. Ekkehard is not so much playing these figures as allowing himself to be played by them.

Playing as an activity also suggests freedom. Maybe the only thing all five named persons have in common is that they were all quiet radicals. In music, literature and cinema, they all stepped, without self-promotion or fanfare, into unmapped territories. Once there they found it necessary to invent new languages in order to survive. Necessity was the mother of their inventiveness. They were also uncomfortable avant gardists. Lonely types, fighting their corners out on the margins, with little reward, often misunderstood, ridiculed or ignored.

All died unfairly young. Fichte a victim of HIV/AIDS, Cassavetes of cirrhosis of the liver. (‘Cassavetes 2’ sounds like a tender farewell played across the 59 year old alcoholic director’s death bed.) The deaths of Johnson, Ayler and Cardew have never been satisfactorily explained, and remain shrouded in myths and conspiracy theories. The pioneering expeditions of all five began in that spirit of playful freedom, but inexorably drew them towards the heart of darkness.

So these ‘plays’ are micro-dramas, sonic soliloquies, monolog-ins to the private accounts of various geniuses in Ekkehard’s ‘follow’ list. Hacked sensibilities. Artistic manifestos boiled down and distilled, skinned and dried in the digital smokehouse. (Ekkehard Ehlers Flays.) Each of these plays was originally floated out into the world alone on its own disc. The collected works play well as a team – a tranquil, introspective experience where each artist has his own identifiably unique sound character. As an album, Plays is a ‘Plattenragout’ – a ‘record stew’ – which was the title of Hubert Fichte’s LP review column in the leftist culture magazine konkret in the 1960s. The novelist’s work investigating the cultures of South America and the Caribbean islands has been called ‘domestic ethnology’. The writer himself referred to his ‘ethnopoesie’. Ekkehard Ehlers’s intuitive electronic portraits are a form of domestic ethnology in themselves. Invoking another of Ekkehard’s musical aliases, they are portraits of cultural ‘autopoiesies’ – creators whose works were strong enough to have their own self-regenerating life force. (by Rob Young)

All tracks written and produced by Ekkehard Ehlers.
Featuring Stephan Mathieu, Joseph Suchy, Anka Hirsch.
Tracks A1 to C2 originally released on three 12inches via Staubgold.
Tracks D1 to D4 originally released on two 7inches via Bottrop-Boy.
Plays originally released as CD compilation in 2002 by Staubgold.
Mastered by Rashad Becker.
Cut to vinyl by Lupo, Berlin, 2022.
Redesigned by Sandra Kastl, 2022.
Photos by Ludger Blanke

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.

Master’s second album recorded by Scott Burns at Morrissound Studios! Classic 1990’s Death Metal! One of the problems with looking back on a musical genre from a perspective years or decades removed from the core of the movement itself is that subsequent developments tend to obscure both a genres origins and threads within a tradition that died out without offspring. As a result, interesting and deserving albums often get lost in the shuffle as reviewers reflect on those albums most “influential” upon later achievements. Death metal pioneers Master are among those who have been shortchanged as a result of that phenomenon, and their 1990 masterpiece “On the Seventh Day, God Created... Master” remains a fascinating exploration both of the genre’s roots and of spaces it might have occupied had different paths been taken. There are a couple of things that leap out immediately to even the casual listener. The first is the seeming primitivism of the music, with songs consisting of relatively brief, bludgeoning pieces driven by relentless rhythms, cyclic riffs and simple melodic hooks. The second is the realization that someone is playing some seriously insane, brilliantly constructed leads. In this case, that someone is Paul Masvidal, far exceeding anything he ever achieved with Cynic. Beneath the surface simplicity, lies a creative spirit that at once recalls the primal birth of death metal (which Master was both present for and very much a driving force behind) and points the way to what the genre might have become. Very apparent are the genre’s hardcore roots, Master here eschewing the Slayer-derived technical architecture that came to dominate most “modern” death metal in favor of structures that would not have been out of place on Discharge’s landmark “Hear Nothing See Nothing Say Nothing” release (there are even a few appearances of the infamous D-beat). Within the unrelenting storm of brutal repetition, the music’s core meaning is encoded, a sheer primal rage dripping from thunderous cycles of power chords and the open throated roar (again the hardcore influence) of vocalist and chief songwriter Paul Speckman.

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.

There is a moment on Sides, the new album from Richmond, Virginia-based duo Lean Year, in which a hospital room floor is filled with white chrysanthemums. This imagery, based on an opiate-induced hallucination experienced by vocalist Emilie Rex's mother as she recovered from surgery, is a perfect encapsulation of the band's second album: dreamlike and beautiful, yet burdened with cold, stark reality. Sides is a harrowing journey through realms of grief and memory, a meditation woven into a tapestry of synth pads, woodwinds, and Rex's instantly recognizable voice. The duo of Rex and Rick Alverson - who also works as a film director (The Mountain, Entertainment, The Comedy) - originally set out to write an album about conflict, but during the writing and recording process, they were confronted with a number of personal tragedies. Alverson lost both of his parents in rapid succession, Rex's mother received a cancer diagnosis, and the couple's beloved family dog, Orca, died. These events transformed the album into an exploration of loss - an attempt at processing the painful, complex, and private emotions that bubble to the surface when confronted with death. "We thought we'd do a concept album called Sides where we could reflect on all of the division in the world, and some in our own families, but then COVID transformed everything / everyone, and we suffered our own specific losses. The record became about loss and grief," Rex explains. "In this way, the title Sides was still appropriate: our individual grief and collective grief, the margins of before and after, the act and feeling of during and enduring. It felt like straddling a threshold between two opposing sides - the moment before conflict and the moment after it passes, life and death, the act of living and the memory of the act. Grief feels like a contention between what you knew and what you now know, and often both feel real and unreal at once." Sides - produced by Alverson alongside Erik Hall (In Tall Buildings) and featuring contributions from Elliot Bergman (Nomo, Wild Belle) and Joseph Shabason (Destroyer, The War on Drugs) - as a distinctly cinematic quality, perhaps due in part to Alverson's other career. Moments of jazz, slowcore, and dirgelike R&B find their way into the sorrowful, ambient suite, lulling the listener into a state of calm while the lyrics speak of ghosts, childhood, and mortality. Despite the gravity of the subject matter, Sides succeeds in mastering a balancing act between pathos and pop. Each song is indelible and haunting, with melodies that have the kind of broad appeal reminiscent of Karen Dalton, Aldous Harding, and FKA twigs.

REMASTERED

Grönland Records announce a revised, remastered reissue of “Sleepwalkers” by DAVID SYLVIAN. Available as a gatefold 2LP with exclusive art print and as a gatefold digipack CD, this new edition also features the previously unreleased track “Modern Interiors”.

in the 00s, DAVID SYLVIAN produced two of his strongest and most solitary statements, BLEMISH and MANAFON. but those records don’t tell the whole story. during that the same period, SYLVIAN created an alternate body of work: a series of collaborations and side projects with leading talents of pop and improv, electronic and contemporary classical music. the best of these recordings are gathered here on SLEEPWALKERS, meticulously sequenced and remixed: the fruits of one-off meetings and lifelong partnerships, they jump from bliss to intrigue, romance to sensuality, as arch experiments lead into the lushest pop.

the single ‘world citizen – i won’t be disappointed,’ written with RYUICHI SAKAMOTO, is a sublime example, with an impeccable melody and lyric warmed by SYLVIAN’S gorgeous tenor. SYLVIAN has worked with SAKAMOTO for close to three decades. by contrast, on ‘pure genius,’ a collaboration with CHRIS VRENNA aka tweaker, he sounds like he’s walked into a heist flick, singing the part of a delusional, dangerous bedroom genius. as sylvian explains, tracks like this ‘give me a chance to write in a way that’s completely non-personal, playful. it’s an exercise of some kind, working within the parameters of a given assignment.’

intrigue of a different kind drives ‘sugarfuel,’ with music by JEAN-PHILIPPE VERDIN, aka READYMADE FC. the lyrics offered ‘an opportunity to grapple with a more overt sexual theme than anything i’d previously attempted, as suggested by a vocal sample in the original track provided, a threateningly insistent ‘i’m on your side.’ so i took that as my point of entry and ran with it. i would love to write more on this subject should i find the right context. you’re always aware of walking a thin line exploring sexuality with language alone. the failings of the great and the good are strewn all around.’

NINE HORSES’ ‘wonderful world’ strolls in on a black tie bassline and the echoing coos of swedish chanteuse STINA NORDENSTAM, whose high chirps brush hands with SYLVIAN’S lead; there’s the blistering ‘money for all’ by FRIEDMAN and SYLVIAN, an oblique response to the fallout of 9/11 and the war on iraq. this is followed by the last known recording of SYLVIAN’S singing voice in over a decade, ‘do you know me now?’, a live studio recording later augmented by JAN BANG, EIVIND AARSET and ERIK HONORÉ. it’s certainly a title that’s become more relevant over time as SYLVIAN, in the latter stages of his career, repeatedly comes face to face with a new generation of admirers fixated on the life and times of the band formed by his younger self. SYLVIAN is one of only a handful of musicians to have successfully moved on from overt pop beginnings into a domain all his own but is consistently plagued by the misguided desires or expectations of some unfamiliar with his evolution to do a u-turn, pick up where he left off in the late 90s. although this compilation, as well as his writing for NINE HORSES, adequately shows SYLVIAN’S traditional love of melody is
intact, that it’s consistently remained part of his output, there’s no denying his focus has shifted, evolved.
the refusal to embrace complacency, the need to cover new ground ‘as older generations of popular musicians have a moral duty to explore despite, or because of, the greater possibility of failure’ will, i believe, lead to a reassessment of his later work that embraces a sightly more complex relationship with what we’re referring to as ‘melodic’, accompanied by an exploration of improvisation without dogma or beholden to any ‘givens’ for which he’s not infrequently been castigated. for SYLVIAN, there are no such boundaries. it’s obvious that different facets of his work co-exist without conflict but not necessarily for the majority of his audience. again, this places SYLVIAN in the odd, rare, unenviable(?) position of moving forwards leaving many in his devoted audience behind as, should he decide to return to music, it’s unlikely he’ll be aiming to placate an audience in love with work that preceded the 00s. in fact we’ve no idea where new work, should it surface, may lead.

SLEEPWALKERS also spotlights the innovators who contributed to MANAFON and BLEMISH. CHRISTIAN FENNESZ hangs a crackling, shimmering curtain behind the vocal on ‘transit,’ matching his signature mass of sui generis sounds to sylvian’s stately performance. and the title track began with an instrumental handed to SYLVIAN by MARTIN BRANDLMAYR of POLWECHSEL, soon after the first recording session for MANAFON. spite crackles in the gaps between the percussion, and onkyo artists TOSHIMARU NAKAMURA and SACHIKO M set the stage for the scathing lyrics in the chorus.

it cuts close to the bone and so do the two spoken word cuts, ‘angel’ and ‘thermal,’ produced by SAMADHISOUND recording artists JAN BANG and ERIK HONORÉ (and featuring ARVE HENRIKSEN on trumpet). SYLVIAN describes the latter work as a ‘love poem’ to his daughter. ‘‘thermal’ reflects on a period when our time in sonoma, ca was coming to an end. we’d stayed in temporary accommodation which had lulled us into a false sense of security. we had pear, apple, lemon, and figs trees growing in the yard. a small but exotic paradise. a cocoon. but the cracks were beginning to show in the relationship between ex-wife INGRID CHAVEZ and i which is where i think this underlying sense of anxiety, which runs throughout the poem, is derived from, coupled with the need to provide physical and spiritual stability to the children, the youngest of whom was just under two at the time. the poem is addressed to her. our world was dissipating, coming apart at the seams, but we were an island unto ourselves.’

‘five lines’ marked the start of a new partnership with acclaimed young composer DAI FUJIKURA, who at the time of recording was also working on remixes of MANAFON for what became DIED IN THE WOOL. the string quartet was performed by the celebrated ICE ENSEMBLE and written for SYLVIAN, who FUJIKURA cites as an early influence. says SYLVIAN, ‘the composition moves through numerous changes in time signature but as i had no knowledge of what these were i just relied on my gut instinct, and responded, as i always do, with what felt right to me, composing an entirely new melody in the process. some months later i was working in a studio in london and dai dropped by. i rather tentatively asked if he’d like to hear a rough mix of the song as it stood, painfully aware that my contribution might make no sense to him at all but, to my relief he loved the result.’

there’s one further new addition to this collection, the first official release of a track composed in response to the tsunami in fukushma, ‘modern interiors’, featuring SYLVIAN once again in collaboration with BANG and AARSET.

like 2000s EVERYTHING AND NOTHING, SLEEPWALKERS is a retrospective of a particular decade when SYLVIAN was free of major label interference and could follow his own instincts without having to explaining himself – but it’s also an eye-opening complement to his solo releases. as SYLVIAN explains, ‘some collaborations seem to be a one-off exchange but you can never be too certain of that fact. others have been long term. in this respect, RYUICHI comes to mind. there’s others with whom you hope to continue working as you feel you’ve barely scratched the surface. other times offers come out of the blue, welcome, inspired. regardless, it’s wonderfully explorative to have so many possibilities to juggle with. each collaboration seems timely. it’s as if there’s a rightness to the exchange at a given moment in time.’

in the meantime, we hope you enjoy the work presented here, personally selected, remixed and sequenced and entirely remastered. these are the orphans, abused, estranged, exotic, migrating from diverse corners of the globe, brought together under one roof which they're learning to share despite their differences.

‘as many of you will already be aware, despite relatively continuous work on solo albums, i’ve maintained strong ties with a number of musicians throughout my life in one context or another. on this new collection, let’s call it SLEEPWALKERS 2.0, a selection of collaborative work produced over the period encompassing blemish through to manafon, i’ve included compositions by nine horses as well as more fleeting flirtations and one-offs. neglected offspring. represented also is long term friend and writing partner, RYUICHI SAKAMOTO, as well as more recent but potentially equally productive partnerships such as CHRISTIAN FENNESZ, ARVE HENRIKSEN and contemporary classical composer DAI FUJIKURA.
i hope you enjoy the work presented here, personally selected, remixed and sequenced and entirely remastered. these are the orphans, abused, estranged, exotic, migrating from diverse corners of the globe, brought together under one roof which they're learning to share despite their differences.

we contain multitudes. we’re nothing if not contradictory.’

DAVID SYLVIAN, 2010

(consistency is contrary to nature, contrary to life: aldous huxley)

Spoken word recordings from Gregory Corso, Tina May Hall, Sam Lipsyte, Christine Schutt, Gary Lutz, Allen Ginsberg, Dawn Raffel, Jason Schwartz, Kathryn Scanlan, Scott McClanahan, & Terry Southern. About 40 years ago, in a record shop on Long Island during a weekend visit there to see my parents, i found a double-LP that looked like something i should definitely buy. It was called "BIG EGO", by the The DIAL-a-POEM POETS. On the cover was a picture of John Giorno (a great poet Ed Sanders had turned me on to) on a NYC rooftop with Philip Glass, Meredith Monk, and two kids. It cost $2. I bought it and rushed back to my parents house, where i still had my old turntable in the basement, not far from my Jimi Hendrix and Zappa Crappa posters, and my framed portrait of John Cage. My copy of Eno's "Discreet Music" was still on the turntable, having been left there years before, when i'd fled Long Island for good. I lifted it from the platter, gently slid it back into its sleeve, like a priceless religious artifact, and put Side A of the Dial-a-Poem LP on. I almost lost my mind while listening to it. The next day i went back to the same record shop looking for more DIAL-A-POEM LP's. i found two. One had a long list of names on the back, some famous, and some i'd never heard of before. I bought both LP's, and an hour later, for the first time in my life, i was exposed to the art of Laurie Anderson, whom i'd never heard of before. This was 1978. Her contribution was a piece called "Time To Go". It changed my life. Or at least, that’s how I remember it. I was just a kid, so there were a lot of moments like that, around then. Nowadays, these moments can be had in seconds, with a click of the cursor. That evening, as i sat alone by my imaginary campfire (ie; that record player in my parents basement), i promised myself that someday, somehow, i would embark upon a WORDS & MUSIC project that might move people the same way i was moved when i first heard Laurie, and Robert Wilson & Christopher Knowles, and Burroughs, and Ginsberg, and Corso, and Anne Waldman, and John Ashbery, and the great Charles Olson, and so many others. Words, for the very first time, had wielded the same power as music. And it was visceral. Just like music. It ran deep. It was a FEELING. John Giorno died in 2019, but he kept poetry alive like nobody's business. I was lucky enough to have spent some time with him in the early 1980's, when i was briefly a member of The Fugs, and often found myself surrounded by those Ginsberg called, "...the greatest minds of my generation". Ed Sanders (who'd ushered me into that scene) once told me that when he came to NYC, it was easy to go to a cafe, or to St Marks Church, and hear Burroughs, Corso, Ginsberg, and all the greats, reading their poetry. He said that even if you were just a bum on the street, you could just walk right up to them, and start a conversation. They were totally accessible, if they were in the right mood at that particular moment. So i was shocked when Sanders told me he didn't approach any of them, not even once, til he'd been going to their readings for nearly ten years. "For almost a decade, I went to every reading, every lecture, every panel discussion. But I never went near them. Never approached them. Not even once", Sanders told me. "For ten years, all I did, was listen." It took me four decades, but ... better late than never. I finally made WORDS & MUSIC, Book One.

The long awaited follow up to Osaka's Hibushibire 'Freak Out Orgasm!' debut album from 2017 is almost upon us ...
 
Who are Hibushibire ?
 
821 (Hani) on bass
Ryu Matsumoto on drums
Changchang on guitar and vocals
 
It would be fair to say Hibushibire’s 2017 debut album ‘Freak Out Orgasm!’ went down well with fans of psych-rock (call it what you will). So far it’s had three vinyl pressings, two cassette pressings and a CD run back in Japan. It garnered quite a few influential underground (if not mainstream) reviews and seemed to sell through on word of mouth alone - which in these times seems to be the way things are going: thriving social media groups sharing their love of recent purchases and fellow vinyl lovers going out and scooping them up without the need to buy a magazine or read an online review to make their mind up. My favourite review of ‘Freak Out Orgasm!’ came from UK based music blog Dayz Of Purple And Orange as I think he nailed it perfectly...
 
“Fuck me! I think I've died and gone to psychedelic heaven! If anyone had asked me what I would really want from a freak out, heavy-as-fuck psych band I would have to say I would want the sheer guitar pyrotechnics of Acid Mothers Temple, the hard-as-nails scuzziness of The Heads, the lead heaviness of a fucked-up Blue Cheer and the instrumental dexterity of Hendrix on speed. Guess what, that band exists and they are called HIBUSHIBIRE!"
 
That, to me, said it all. Nail hit hard.
 
But let's get onto 'Turn On, Tune In, Freak Out!'
 
Once again the album is produced by Makoto Kawabata (Acid Mothers Temple, Mainliner) and for me it's the next logical step in the bands sonic development. As with its predecessor, side one consists of three tracks, "Ecstasy Highwaystar / Blow! Blow! Blow! / Overdose, Pussycat! More! More!", (they do like an exclamation mark). Some of these titles will be familiar if you've followed the band's live shows in recent times, and it's pretty much a guitar to the front, full gonzo-style hard-rocking psychedelic freak out from the first blast of Changchang's guitar panning from left to right before the main riff kicks it all off.
 
Again, as with their debut, side two comprises of just one epic length track. 'Rollercoaster Of The Universe' clocks in at seventeen minutes and is, in my humble opinion, the sound of the band moving onto the next level during its journey. It's a shudderingly beautiful piece, with many hypnotic twists and turns. I can't wait to hear how they play this live.
 
The band did initially attempt to produce this album by themselves, but got 'brain fever' in the studio and called their old friend Makoto to come down and help them finish it off. As he had no preparation in advance, he knew nothing about how the recording was going in the studio, and moreover there was little time left for adjustments to be made. But his technique of mixing was, as always, both mighty and almost destructive.

"The beauty of all this, as well as its sorrowful brutality, is even more powerful and stupefying since Ghédalia's sudden departure. Because retrospectively, not only is this recording the trace of a rare moment in a Parisian garden, it also summons a ghost, that of a loved one that is gone, and of his voice, which is fully alive here."

Tazartes and Chatham had met once in 1977 at CBGC's and had not seen each other since then when they were asked by their mutual agent to play a private show in Paris. This happened in September 2018 in a house with a garden where sax player Steve Lacy had lived back in the 1990s. This album presents the recording of this show plus another show at La semaine du bizarre festival in Montreuil, France a year later, mixed with a couple of studio sessions. This was probably the last music Tazartès, who died in February 2021, recorded. His unique singing blends perfectly with Chatham's loops on electric guitar, trumpet and flute.

Rhys Chatham is a composer, guitarist, trumpet player and flutist from Manhattan, currently living in Paris, who altered the DNA of rock and created a new type of urban music by fusing the overtone-drenched minimalism of the early 60s with the relentless, elemental fury of the Ramones — the textural intricacies of the avant-garde colliding with the visceral punch of electric guitar-slinging punk rock. Starting with Guitar Trio in the 1970s and culminating with A Crimson Grail for 200 electric guitars in 2009, Chatham has been working for over 30 years to make use of armies of electric guitars in special tunings to merge the extended-time music of the sixties and seventies with serious hard rock. Parallel with his rock-influenced pieces, Chatham has been working with various brass configurations since 1982, and recently has developed a completely new approach to collaborations, improvised and compositional pieces involving trumpet through performances and recordings that started in 2009. Chatham’s trumpet work deploys extended playing techniques inherited from the glory days of the early New York minimalist and 70s loft jazz period. Starting in 2014, Rhys has been touring a solo program featuring an electric guitar in a Pythagorean tuning, Bb trumpet, and bass, alto and C flutes. Rhys was introduced to electronic music and composition by Morton Subotnick in the late 60s, and in the early seventies he studied composition with La Monte Young and played in Tony Conrad’s early group. These composers are, along with Terry Riley, the founders of American minimalism and were a profound influence on Chatham’s work. Chatham’s instrumentation ranges from the seminal composition composed in 1977 entitled Guitar Trio for 3 electric guitars, electric bass and drums, to the epoch evening-length work for 100 electric guitars, An Angel Moves Too Fast to See, composed in 1989… all the way to Chatham’s recent composition for 200 electric guitars, Crimson Grail, which was commissioned by the City of Paris for La Nuit Blanche Festival in 2005. A completely new version of the piece was commissioned by the Lincoln Center Outdoor Summer Festival in 2009. What does a composer do after mounting many performances with forces of 100-200 electric guitars? The composer gets back to basics, at least that’s what Rhys does! Along with the G100 and G3 programs, Chatham is currently offering a solo program, an evening length work with the composer performing himself on electric guitar, trumpets and bass alto and C flutes.

French cult artist Ghedalia Tazartes is an uncompromising character who defied categorization. He recorded alone more than 20 albums, calling his Art “Impromuz” for lack of a better term. Before the years 2000s, his public appearances remained exceptional events. Ghédalia Tazartès’ music has always been a mystery. It switches from musique concrète to – existing or invented – ethnic music, from poetry to noise, or from loops and collages to sad and extremely beautiful tunes in a second, but it constantly is in flux and coherent. In 2004, Ghedalia finally decided to do live performances again. He first worked with other musicians (Les Reines d’Angleterre, David Fenech & Jac Berrocal, Norscq & Black Sifichi, Nicolas Lelièvre) then went solo for ten years. Since then Tazartes has played many shows across Europe including a show in the Patti Smith exhibition at Fondation Cartier in Paris and a cinemix to the “Haxan” silent movie in 2008. In 2018 Ghedalia decided to stop playing solo and to collaborate with other musicians again: Maya Dunietz, Rhys Chatham, Chris Corsano and Dennis Tyfus, Quentin Rollet and Jérôme Lorichon. Ghedalia died at his home in Paris on 9th February 2021.

Music in Exile is excited to announce a new 12” maxi-single release from the “King of Music”, GORDON KOANG. Titled Coronavirus / Disco, this double-A-side release share’s Gordon’s messages of peace, love and positivity, and is his first original offering since his acclaimed Unity album was released in late 2020.

The first single, Coronavirus, was penned by Koang in July 2020 as a response to his personal experiences of the global pandemic. As his hometown of Melbourne went into lockdown, Gordon resided in the outer suburbs of Melbourne with his cousin, Paul, and his four-stringed, guitar-like instrument, the thom. Throughout this single, Gordon offers his condolences to those affected by the pandemic, alongside messages of his faith in frontline workers and the hope that circumstances will improve soon. “People suffer a lot. I ask that God gives the doctors the big wisdom to defeat the coronavirus. When people hear my song, I hope that this music counsels them. The song has a lot of meaning, it is telling them to be hopeful.”

With the cancellation of a national tour and numerous festival appearances, Covid-19 had not only impacted Gordon’s career here in Australia but also his opportunity to visit family he hadn’t seen in five years. After receiving Australian permanent residency, Gordon and Paul were now able to visit family in Uganda, however this was made incredibly difficult due to border closures and the potential health risks. Taking a last minute opportunity, Gordon and Paul travelled to Africa and whilst excited to visit their families, they also experienced the impact of the pandemic on their home communities. “In Africa, it is not like us here, there is no medicine and in Africa there is also no Centrelink if you are in lockdown. It is difficult getting services. Even getting food is difficult.”

After two weeks in hotel quarantine, Gordon and Paul returned to Melbourne, eager to record music once more. With lockdown lifting, Gordon headed to the studio with a new band featuring Zak Olsen (ORB, Traffik Island) Jack Kong (Baked Beans, Traffik Island), David “Daff” Gravolin (ORB), and Jesse Williams (Leah Senior, Girlatones). This new release is the result of these studio sessions, jamming and recording at Button Pusher in Preston, Melbourne.

For the DJ’s out there, both tracks will feature on a limited edition, 12” maxi single vinyl complete with pull-out poster from Gordon, encouraging listeners to stay positive during this difficult time.

“My condolences to you, my audience in lockdown. We are all suffering from coronavirus. Let us stand firm and be strong. Let us look after each other, until the time comes when God brings us together. I give my condolences to people who have died of coronavirus, in aged care and disability. We are heartbroken for everyone. Let us take it easy, and pray in our houses, all around the world. If you believe in God, pray to the God you believe in, and they will help you. God will give us the chance to go back to normal and open all events. Even if it is a bad time now, there will be a change and it will be a good time for us. Thank you to everyone.” - Gordon Koang

A unique new album of poetry and music featuring Marianne Faithfull set to the music of Warren Ellis, and featuring Nick Cave, Brian Eno and Vincent Ségal
With She Walks in Beauty, Marianne Faithfull with composer and multi-instrumentalist Warren Ellis releases one of the most distinctive and singular albums of her long, extraordinary life and career. It was recorded just before and during the first Covid-19 lockdown – during which the singer herself became infected and almost died of the disease – with musical friends and family including not only composer Warren Ellis but Nick Cave, Brian Eno, cellist Vincent Ségal and producer-engineer Head. She Walks in Beauty fulfils Faithfull’s long-held ambition to record an album of poetry with music.
It’s a record that draws on her passion for the English Romantic poets, a passion she fostered in her A Level studies with one Mrs Simpson at St Joseph's Convent School in Reading. From there she entered the world of As Tears Go By, of Mick Jagger and the Rolling Stones, Top of the Pops and the left-hand path of pop and stage stardom. Sixties iconography and outrage followed, as did her subsequent battles with addiction before her 1979 return to powerful female and artistic autonomy with Broken English, an album which featured her setting to music Heathcote Williams’ poem of eviscerating rage, Why D’Ya Do It?
Drawing deep on the poetry of Shelley, Keats, Byron, Wordsworth, Tennyson and Thomas Hood, Faithfull’s vocal performances set to Ellis’s subtle collages of sound draw out the heart, the quick, the vibrant living matter in all these great poems, making them fresh, renewing them with the complex, lived-in timbres of her voice, and set to a subtle palette of ambient musical settings. It’s both a radical departure and a return to her original inspirations as an artist and performer.
The greatest poetry is best heard, and Faithfull’s accounts of some of the greatest lyric poetry in our language – Keats’ Ode To A Nightingale and Ode To Autumn – are spine-tingling in their deep understanding of the poetry’s powerful currents of meaning and identification. On Nightingale, her voice opens up like an epic landscape, while in Shelley’s miniature masterpiece, To The Moon, she sounds otherworldly, as if calling down from another medium, and the atonal, otherworldly sound textures provided by Eno on Bridge of Sighs and La Belle Dame Sans Merci become a compelling foil for Faithfull’s haunting interpretations of these rich, dark poems.
“They’ve have been with her her whole life,” says Ellis. “She believes in these texts. That world, she inhabits it, embodies it, and that really comes through. There’s just something about the way she can deliver that is incredibly affecting.”
“Eventually I always end up where I was meant to be,” says Faithfull. “I’ve noticed that. It may take a long time, but I get there. I never forget these things. After all these years, I’ve drawn the strands back and they still mean something and they resonate more, actually, because I now have life experience. Life and near-death experience. Many times! Not just once.” She Walks in Beauty is scheduled for release April 30th, with artwork created for the album by British artist and lifelong friend, Colin Self, and with the full texts of the poems, and commentary, included in the liner notes. While Faithfull continues to recover from the after-effects of Covid-19, and the world around us continues to struggle with the impact of the worldwide pandemic, these are poems and performances to steady and lift the spirit.