Cerca:one of them

Following a handful of singles and EPs, and a series of live performances that have only served to heighten the group's intensity and strengthen its sound, Bada-Bada - the trio of sought after instrumentalists/producers Lilian Mille, Tiss Rodriguez and Leo Fumagalli - finally unveil Portraits, their debut album. As a flagship of a new exciting French scene, melting the jazz idiom with the most innovative instrumental music, Bada-Bada stands out for its rare ability to transcend genres and to use the studio as an instrument in its own right.

“With this band, it’s all about searching for a sound”, says drummer Tiss Rodriguez. “It’s a quest for a sound as much as a quest for meaning," adds Leo Fumagalli (saxophone). A quest that requires unrushed studio experiments, of course, but one that never forgets to draw on the unmatched energy of the live performance and the chemistry at work between an audience that understands a band’s language and intentions and give it time to unfold them, and musicians at the top of their game.

Bada-Bada's sound is informed by its members’ backgrounds – all of whom have put their academic training to good use by confronting it with experience; by the way they relate to the time they’re living as much as the History of music; and by their ability to encapsulate a body of forward-thinking instrumental music (electronica, symphonic music, trance-based music and 21st century jazz).

Thoughts of You, as a phrase, might immediately associate one with feelings of love, endearment, fantasy or even obsession. These are the very sentiments that lay as cornerstones in Salvator Dragatto's debut LP for Colemine Records. The allure and drama of black & white photography have always played a vital role in how Salvator (aka Joseph Reina) not only views the world but how he hears music. Parallels in film processing to his own recording methods started becoming more and more apparent as the record was being formed; Limitations in exposures rivaling limitations in tracks. Film grain and dust sediments rivaling tape hiss and dirty EQ pots. What most would consider to be imperfections, Dragatto leaned into and found inspiration. This record is an homage to the likes of Andre' Kerte'sz, Robert Frank, Jean-Luc Godard and Rene' Groebli, who's works have impacted Dragatto's world so greatly both visually and sonically. Thoughts of You is an unabashed reflection of the noir. From the powerful thematic horn lines to the gentlest string passages, this record is a collection of themes and vignettes that explore the emotions set upon by black and white imagery.

Thoughts of You, as a phrase, might immediately associate one with feelings of love, endearment, fantasy or even obsession. These are the very sentiments that lay as cornerstones in Salvator Dragatto's debut LP for Colemine Records. The allure and drama of black & white photography have always played a vital role in how Salvator (aka Joseph Reina) not only views the world but how he hears music. Parallels in film processing to his own recording methods started becoming more and more apparent as the record was being formed; Limitations in exposures rivaling limitations in tracks. Film grain and dust sediments rivaling tape hiss and dirty EQ pots. What most would consider to be imperfections, Dragatto leaned into and found inspiration. Opaque Natural Vinyl. This record is an homage to the likes of Andre' Kerte'sz, Robert Frank, Jean-Luc Godard and Rene' Groebli, who's works have impacted Dragatto's world so greatly both visually and sonically. Thoughts of You is an unabashed reflection of the noir. From the powerful thematic horn lines to the gentlest string passages, this record is a collection of themes and vignettes that explore the emotions set upon by black and white imagery.

This album is a gritty yet sophisticated journey through life’s harsh realities and ultimate triumphs. Hailing from two vastly different worlds, Fashawn and Little Vic bring unique stories and sounds that blend the raw with the refined. Fashawn, raised amidst the gangs and struggles of Fresno, California, brings an unapologetic realism to his verses, detailing the roads that took him from survival to success. Meanwhile, Little Vic’s roots trace back to Long Island, New York, where he grew up with the influence of the Orena family’s notorious reputation. Known for his lyricism and mastery of the MPC, Vic’s production is the perfect companion to Fashawn’s storytelling, layering gritty boom bap beats with live instruments that add richness and texture.

The theme of the album is like a fine dining experience—a nod to elegance—while peeling back the layers to reveal the raw, often darker realities simmering behind the scenes. Little Vic’s production flexes between hard-hitting rhythms and delicate, soulful sounds, creating a soundscape that mirrors the rags-to-riches journey both artists represent.

Brought together on the East Coast by executive producer Ricky Grey, Fashawn and Little Vic spent an intense week creating this project, crafting a work that feels as alive and textured as the streets that shaped them. Each track is an experience, serving up an unfiltered taste of both struggle and success, designed to leave listeners both stirred and inspired.

Ben Lukas Boysen’s new album, Alta Ripa, signifies a seismic shift in his artistic journey. It revisits the foundational impulses of his youth, shaped amidst the serene beauty of rural Germany—a bucolic backdrop where his creative palette flourished. However, it was his move to Berlin in the early 2000s that electrified his sound, infusing it with the city’s pulsating energy and diverse cultural influences. Alta Ripa captures this transformative experience, blending the introspective melodies of his rural beginnings with the bold, experimental tones born from Berlin’s vibrant electronic music scene. This album is a testament to Boysen’s evolution, showcasing how geographical shifts can profoundly shape artistic expression.

Boysen’s fourth studio album under his own name, Alta Ripa is a nod to his beginnings as much as a hint to his future, and as a work, it’s almost contradictory in its boldness and humility. He invites the listener on a journey of self-discovery; both for himself and for them, describing the music as “something the 15-year-old in me would have liked to hear but only the grown-up version of myself can write.”

His last two albums involved working closely with other musicians, including cellist Anne Müller, flugelhorn player Steffen Zimmer, and drummer Achim Färber. However, inspired in part by a recent return to live performance, Alta Ripa sees Boysen circling back to his passion for pure computer music.

For Boysen, the return to his youthful musical language marks a major turning point in his career. It represents a departure from his roots in classical music – his mother was an opera singer and his father an actor with an appreciation for Wagner, Arvo Pärt, Keith Jarrett, and Stockhausen. Although these are still important influences, Alta Ripa encapsulates a new, exploratory interplay between Boysen’s careful craft and his ability to let go of some of the process.

The album’s title comes from the original Roman name of the town that Boysen grew up in, Altrip, where he lived until his early twenties. This formative period is central to the ideas behind this album, from Boysen’s parental ‘schooling’ in classical music through to his sonic journeys through drum and bass, Aphex Twin, and Autechre — all of which changed his idea of what music could be. The extreme energy of tracks like ‘Acperience 1’ by Hardfloor, ‘Tracks & Fragment’ by Cari Lekebusch, ‘Focus2 Implan’ by Jiri.Ceiver, and ‘Low On Ice’ by Alec Empire are also pivotal influences.

For Boysen, this time of his musical development also involved knocking down the pillars that he previously thought had carried his world. A key moment for Boysen was being given a precious (pre-internet) club cassette at school that featured artists like Source Direct, Photek and Goldie. Excited by this new discovery, he introduced his father to the song ‘Dred Bass’ by Dead Dred. After the song finished, Boysen Sr. turned off the tape and proclaimed it was “the end of all music”. This heated exchange sparked a new, and more mature dialogue between the two that involved them sharing and discussing music on a regular basis.

Boysen’s classical and jazz music upbringing might not be easily noticeable from the electronic palette that he uses. But it can be found in its bones; the structure of the tracks and their dynamic shifts. On Alta Ripa, he intentionally embraces a spirit of controlled chaos, churning out sonic ideas to see what sticks.

One of Brian Eno’s Oblique Strategy cards contains the phrase “gardening, not architecture”, and the trajectory of Boysen’s creative path reflects this metaphor. In much of his previous work he followed a sort of Brutalist architect’s approach; here, he was fully responsible for the tracks’ austere structures and planned them with deliberate care. But by sacrificing some of that control on Alta Ripa, he sets the right conditions for a dark and unpredictable, organic growth. It’s a push forward into a new world.

In addition to the unique musical proposals and the large body of work that they have developed separately, Amelia Cuni and Werner Durand have been performing together as a duo as well as in collaborations (Tonaliens, Born of Six) for more than 20 years. Fusing her Indian Raga singing in the Dhrupad style with his minimalist and experimental approach, they have expanded the reach of their soundworlds as well as proposed new paths for contemporary music.In this occasion, Uli Hohmann joins them in a range of hand drums from the Middle East and North Africa, plus a dulcimer-sounding hammered guitar. Durand's various self-made wind instruments, soprano sax, and blown kalimba shine along with Cuni's astounding vocals, which are sometimes sung through a mirliton (a medieval type of kazoo). Clearing is the trio's first published recording.

Seconds of Thirst, recorded in one session at Uli´s studio in Bavaria in early 2014, is truly a conjuring where distinctive balances come to gather. A deep drone unfolds patiently in a hypnotic manner, comprised by Werner's characteristic PVC clarinets, a hammered guitar played by Hohmann, and subtle electronic tones. Above all, Amelia's singing voice, filtered through the mirliton, drifts buzzing along the gradually shifting harmonic waves, meandering through serpentine melodic lines and microtonality.

In the middle pieces, vocals turn into an ethereal multi-layered chorus, an exotic and astonishing instrument pulsing delicate and vaporously, like a gliding silk sail without a mast to bind it. Misty ambiances linger on as the soft atmosphere disperses the weight of undelivered syllables. Just intonation aligns the pan-ney's winds with vocal navigation. Foe to scattering, hurry, and affectation, Clearing's pace has lifted a fog translucent enough to reveal treetops calmly appearing, efficiently condensing damp into definite drops that fall drumming, forecasting what's yonder.

With a condensing sound going from Buddhist morning chants down to Indian festive traditional music, the title track, which closes the album, is the most vibrant of all, permeating a bit of commotion through buzzing drones and galloping percussion. Without disorder, yet without measure. Clearing is therefore this shuttle into the distance, this space that weaves, unites, and tenses the different cords that we are made up of.

When the clouds advance silently, gray, until they become dark in a few minutes, it means that the monsoon is coming. It reaches us without apparent noise, but then resounds in its images, leaving behind lightness, freshness, clarity, and a tremendous luminosity that comes from so far away: from the Himalayas, from so ancient, from Sanskrit, from a sound where the darkness and the divine, where the concrete and the landscape, where the rock and the humidity leave a mark that brings together and ties a sky loaded with new clouds.

Décima Víctima were a Spanish band that, during their short-lived career between 1981 and 1984, developed a very personal sound reminiscent of Joy Division, The Cure and other British post-punk bands. Rarely has any Spanish band achieved such a high degree of quality and coherence in their music and personality. Despite only being active for under three years, Décima Víctima left a long-lasting legacy, and their influence would later be heard in Spanish bands such as Family, Los Planetas and Sr Chinarro. For this edition, the sound of the original tape recordings has been cleaned and improved and the artwork has been slightly modified following the band's original idea. The original ssions were no short of joy and experimentation. Paco Trinidad, the producer, understood what the band wanted and managed to achieve it technically. Despite commercial success evaded them, their first LP was acclaimed by the press, especially by El Pais, one of the biggest-selling newspapers in Spain. Unavailable for years and always in high demand, this is the first time their debut album gets an official reissue in its original single LP format. For this edition, the sound of the original tape recordings has been cleaned and improved and the artwork has been slightly modified following the band's original idea.

Indian born, UK artist Michael Diamond, co-founder of Vasuki Sound label and club night, announces new EP Placid Wakefulness, featuring single ‘Reverse Entropy’. available on all platforms 5th December via Vasuki Sound.

A uniquely multifaceted talent, Michael Diamond’s unforgettable ‘jazzed electronic’ sound is informed by a spectrum of influences, not least by intersection of the scientific and practical worlds of electronic music. From the music scholarship he won to read Medicine at Oxford where he quickly discovered new ways in which the two worlds can co-exist, his days were spent immersed in academic studies of music perception and cognition, while his nights were spent alongside the likes of Ben UFO, Batu & Ross From Friends, playing at one of UK’s most long-established nights ‘Simple’. A chance encounter there also led him to connect with musical collaborator Alex Wilson – the BBC Young Jazz Musician of the Year semi-finalist and then musical director of Oxford’s Jazz Orchestra – who appears frequently across Diamond’s compositions and on Placid Wakefulness.

No stranger to a concept piece, Diamond’s previous project, the highly personal and critically acclaimed exploration of culture and identity, Third Culture (album of the month/year acknowledgments from Stamp The Wax, Juno and Phonica Records, also earning him a DJ Mag ‘One To Watch’, a Youth Music Awards ‘Rising Star’ nomination and a Gilles Peterson’s ‘Future Bubbler’ accolade) explored the experience of being a ‘third culture kid’ born in Kerala, India and growing up in the UK with a sense of fractured identity.

On Placid Wakefulness, Diamond honours his academic research working alongside world-renowned musicologist Professor Eric Clarke. Specifically how music may affect our sleepfulness and wakefulness, how instinctively we are soothed by some sounds and energised by others - ‘what it is about dance music that makes people go hard all night long?’ and ‘what is it about ambient music that makes people feel the opposite way - to lull them into this sense of calmness or rest?’, mindful of the unconscious ways his findings were already manifesting in his work as an artist. And while his research provides a framework for some of the ideas within the piece, Placid Wakefulness can be viewed as more of an unintentional byproduct, or case-in-point of his findings, rather than a piece consciously constructed in their image.

Across Placid Wakefulness’s four tracks we find the artist unpacking a range of sonic ideas on this theme, from ambient calm to club-adjacent rhythms. The EP opens with hypnotic lullaby of ‘A Way of Listening’ complete with transcendent flutes provided by Alex Wilson, cello by George Lloyd-Own and a mellow groove. On the more energised ‘Reverse Entropy’, rhythmic ambiguity moves to rhythmic disambiguation with a four-to-the-floor beat as the track progresses, releasing tension and inviting an urge to dance as a jazz sax moment transmutes into glorious techno percussiveness.

On ‘Turning and Turning’ the bpm shifts down a gear, a sonic dreamstate where tough textural rhythms create a kind of liminal state tension. Closing out the EP we return to a sense of restfulness with the EP’s title track, where a gorgeous picked guitar loop interplays with vibrating ambient pads and a slow and steady beat. The Placid Wakefulness EP is a captivating testament to Diamond’s singular artistic talent and the fascinating interplay of neuroscience and how we experience and enjoy music.

Developing on the trance-induction and brainwave entrainment techniques explored on the first Ethernet album 144 Pulsations of Light, Opus 2 moves into deeper, more introspective and emotive territory. A stronger focus on melody and harmonic structure results in pieces that almost approach, but never quite arrive at, traditional song forms, while still leaving much to the imagination of the listener, evading mental categorization and revealing new sonic experiences with each listen.

The bulk of recording took place during the darkest months of winter in the Pacific Northwest, between late-night shifts providing technical support for hospital operating rooms. The pieces on the album each formed gradually and spontaneously during extended improvised sonic meditations as part of the composer’s own trancework (or self-hypnosis) practice, this in an effort to remove specific compositional intention from the process, instead just allowing them to “happen".

If 144 Pulsations… was about expansion of awareness and opening to the light that surrounds us, Opus 2 is intended to induce inner contemplation and internalized focus on the light within us. It is also a statement on the gradual darkening and inexorable decay of our modern world, and the need to look within to find true support and sustenance from one’s own energetic source. Patience and perseverance.

xd H2 Rockers Revenge - Walking On Sunshine feat. Donnie Calvin (12" Version)

It’s abundantly clear from the first bars of their 5th studio album Through Other Reflection, that this is, and could only ever be, The Soundcarriers. From the enchanting vocal duets of folk-bidden Chanteuses Leonore Wheatley and Dorian Conway; to the precise bass lines of Paul Isherwood and the limber, jazz-cool, Hal Blaine-esque drums of his his co-songwriter Adam Cann; from the fairy-like flutes, 60s-garage guitars and organ sounds pilfered from the archives of exotica - listening to the Soundcarriers resembles a rediscovery of all the most prized, esoteric corners of the 1960s, all bundled up, warped and refracted through the quartet’s astutely modern cultural lens. Channelling Tropicalia, Middle Eastern psychedelic Jazz/Funk, The French Library sounds of Nino Nardini, and a whole host of lavish obscurites beside, Through Other Reflection delivers another sonic adventure from one of the most unique and distinctive voices of British Psychedelia. After an 8 year wait for their album 4 - 2022’s Wilds - it thankfully didn’t take so long for the follow-up this time round. In many ways, this feels like a companion to Wilds; recording again at their Nottingham warehouse studio, Through Other Reflection retains that same organic glow, all the passions and imperfections of a tightly clipped unit jamming out these living, breathing pop-art nuggets as if straight onto the acetate.”We wanted to keep an air of spontaneity with this album and not get too bogged with the recording process”, explains Cann, “It was more a case of getting the songs as tightly written and arranged as possible first so we could get them down quickly in the studio. It always takes longer than you think” Less packed with strident pop hooks as its predecessor however, the music of Through… has been given extra licence to breathe, stretch out, and wander more uncharted terrains. While gleaming psych-pop of tracks like ‘The City Was’, or ‘Already Over’ confidently carry on from where they left off, from the album’s 2nd track ‘Always’, the trip becomes a little less predictable. Starting out as a smoky Procol Harum-meets-French-Psych organ ballad, the music drifts, as if of its own accord into an eerie, garage trance that lingers, cycles, and hypnotises, growing ever stranger, reaching ever-further away from its point of conception. And almost every track on Through Other Reflections holds that outer-body moment, where the band fix themselves on a limber, lysergic groove, lose all grip on time and reality, and melt themselves away into a liquid state of blind euphoria. There are sequences on this record that feel more like rituals than songs, built upon a single hypnotic rhythm which, like the centre of a vortex, pulling everything under its beatific command. Take the finale to ‘What We Found’ for instance, sounding like a ghostly march across the psychedelic moors, or ‘Feel The Way’, where a single athletic drum-loop rises and rises, growing ever more urgent and suspenseful underneath its frantic harpsichords and rasping flutes. Full of such rich stylisms as these, The Soundcarriers showcase themselves as abstract storytellers par excellence by virtue of their textures and arrangements alone. Resembling Romantic composer Maurice Ravel, but if he had just a four-piece rock band at his disposal, Through Other Reflects is rich with detail; there’s shakers, rattles, clarinets, booming drums; there’s synthesiser swarms, chiming xylophones, vintage organs and experimental Cluster & Eno-esque ambiences. Within all this nuance the music flows like some undisclosed narrative swathed in a magnetic secrecy. “It almost comes across like a story in some ways”, says Cann of the album, “the music is quite sectional with elements of exotica and cinematic type layers, it's a good balance of grooves, tunes and weirdness”. No more is this “epic cinematic feel” heard more proudly than on short instrumental ‘Sonya’s Lament” - its innate, hauntological atmospheres befitting a Peter Strickland soundtrack, or the classics of Lex Baxter, the so-called ‘Founder of Exotica’ himself. On the other hand, providing a greasier undercurrent to all these bucolic sounds is a leaning towards a more “direct” lyricism referencing more “external concerns. Laying down the first tracks for the album in the wintry gloom of pre-lockdown 2020, and drawing inspiration from time spent in Berlin, Through Other Reflections returns to some of the post-apocalyptic futurism explored in 2014’s Entropicalia - a loose concept album inspired by J.G Ballard’s The Drowned World. “The songs explore a disillusionment with the way things are going particularly after 40 years of neoliberalism”, says Cann, “They follow that folk-song tradition of wanting to escape to an imagined time, but here it’s more urban than pastoral. The first couple of ideas I came up with when doing some music in Berlin and had some time to wander aimlessly. And think the atmosphere seeped in, particularly on The City Was and Already Over. He continues, “One aspect of the title, ‘Through Other Reflections’ is about synthesis and layers of influence. How things can be filtered through other things and change the perspective. This is something you get in cities as well.” Though, as with everything The Soundcarriers make, “It can mean anything. It also just sounds kind of cool.”

"This is the time that we, who have benefitted from the Last Poets shouldbe able to say, 'it's the Last Poets. It's them we should be honouring, because we did not honour them for so many years_"

KRS One wasn't just addressing the hip hop fraternity when he uttered
those words by way of introducing the video for Invocation - a poem
written thirty years ago, around the time of the Last Poets' last significant comeback. He was speaking to everyone who's been affected by the word, sound and power issuing from the most revolutionary poetry ever witnessed, and that the Last Poets had introduced to the world outside of Harlem at the dawn of the seventies.

In 2018 the two remaining Last Poets, Abiodun Oyewole and Umar Bin
Hassan, embarked on another memorable return with an album -
Understand What Black Is - that earned favourable comparison with theirseminal works of the past, whilst showcasing their undimmed passion andlyrical brilliance in an entirely new setting - that of reggae music. Trackslike Rain Of Terror ("America is a terrorist") and How Many Bullets demonstrated that they'd lost none of their fire or anger, and their essential raison d'etre remained the same.

"The Last Poets' mission was to pull the people out of the rubble o f their lives," wrote their biographer Kim Green. "They knew, deep down that poetry could save the people - that if black people could see and hear themselves and their struggles through the spoken word, they would be moved to change."

Several years later and the follow-up is now with us. The project started when Tony Allen, the Nigerian master drummer whose unique polyrhythms had driven much of Fela Kuti's best work, dropped by Prince Fatty's Brighton studio and laid down a selection of drum patterns to die for. That was back in 2019, but then the pandemic struck. Once it had passed, the label booked a studio in Brooklyn, where the two Poets voiced four tracks apiece and breathed fresh energy, fire and outrage into some of the most enduring landmarks of their career. Abiodun, who was one of the original Last Poets who'd gathered in East Harlem's Mount Morris Park to celebrate Malcolm X's birthday in May 1968, chose four poems that first appeared on the group's 1970 debut album, called simply The Last Poets. He'd written When The Revolution Comes aged twenty, whilst living in Jamaica, Queens. "We were getting ready for a revolution," he told Green. "There wasn't any question about whether there was going to be one or not. The truth was many of us still saw ourselves as "niggers" and slaves. This was a mindset that had to change if there was ever to be Black Power." He and writer Amiri Baraka were deep in conversation one day when Baraka became distracted by a pretty girl walking by. "You're a gash man," Abiodun told him. The poem inspired by that incident, Gash Man, is revisited on the new album, and exposes the heartless nature of sexual acts shorn of intimacy or affection. "Instead of the vagina being the entrance to heaven," he says, "it too often becomes a gash, an injury, a wound_" Two Little Boys meanwhile, was inspired after seeing two young boys aged around 11 or 12 "stuffing chicken and cornbread down their tasteless mouths, trying to revive shrinking lungs and a wasted mind." They'd walked into Sylvia's soul food restaurant in Harlem, ordered big meals, then bolted them down and run out the door. No one chased after them, knowing that they probably hadn't eaten in days. Fifty years later and children are still going hungry in major cities across America and elsewhere. Abiodun's poem hasn't lost any relevance at all, and neither has New York, New York, The Big Apple. "Although this was written in 1968, New York hasn't changed a bit," he admits, except "today, people just mistake her sickness for fashion." Umar is originally from Akron, Ohio, but had arrived in Harlem in early 1969 after seeing Abiodun and the other Last Poets at a Black Arts Festival in Cleveland. That's where he first witnessed what Amiri Baraka once called "the rhythmic animation of word, poem, image as word- music" - a creative force that redefined the concept of performance poetry and stripped it bare until it became a howl of rage, hurt and anger, saved from destruction by mockery and love for humanity. When Umar's father, who was a musician, was jailed for armed robbery he took to the streets from an early age where he shined shoes and raised whatever money he could to help feed his eight brothers and sisters. By the time he saw the Last Poets he'd joined the Black United Front and was ready to join the struggle. Once in Harlem, Abiodun asked him what he'd learnt in the few weeks since he'd got there. "Niggers are scared of revolution," Umar replied. "Write it down" urged Abiodun. That poem still gives off searing heat more than fifty years later. In Umar's own words, "it became a prayer, a call to arms, a spiritual pond to bathe and cleanse in because niggers are not just vile and disgusting and shiftless. Niggers are human beings lost in someone else's system of values and morals." And there you have it. It's not just race or religion that hold us back, but an economic system that keeps millions in poverty and living in fear - a system born from political choice and that's now become so entrenched, so bloated on its own success that it's put mankind in mortal danger. It was many black people's acceptance of the status quo that inspired Just Because, which like Niggers Are Scared Of Revolution, was included on that seminal first album. Along with their revolutionary rhetoric, it was the Last Poets' use of the "n word" that proved so shocking, but it would be wrong to suggest that they reclaimed it, since it never belonged to black people in the first place. There's never any hiding place when it comes to the Last Poets. They use words like weapons, and that force all who listen to decide who they are and where they stand. Umar's two remaining tracks find him revisiting poems first unleashed on the Poets' second album This Is Madness! Abiodun had left for North Carolina by then where he became more deeply enmeshed in revolutionary activities and spent almost four years in jail for armed robbery after attempting to seize funds related to the Klu Klux Klan. Meanwhile, the 21 year old Umar was squatting in Brooklyn and had developed close ties with the Dar-ul Islam Movement. A longing for purity and time-honoured spiritual values underpins Related to What, whilst This Is Madness is a call for freedom "by any means necessary," and that paints a feverish landscape peopled by prominent black leaders but that quickly descends into chaos. "All my dreams have been turned into psychedelic nightmares," he wails, over a groove now powered by Tony Allen's ferocious drumming. Those sessions lasted just two days, and we can only imagine the atmosphere in that room as the hip hop godfathers exchanged the conga drums of Harlem for the explosive sounds of authentic Afrobeat. Once they'd finished, the recordings and momentum returned to Prince Fatty's studio, since relocated from Brighton to SE London. This was stage three of the project, and who better to fill out the rhythm tracks than two key musicians from Seun Anikulapo Kuti's band Egypt 80? Enter guitarist Akinola Adio Oyebola and bassist Kunle Justice, who upon hearing Allen's trademark grooves exclaimed, "oh, the Father_ we are home!" Such joy and enthusiasm resulted in the perfect fusion of Nigerian Afrobeat and revolutionary poetry, but the vision for the album wasn't yet complete. He wanted to create a new kind of soundscape - one that reunited the Poets with the progressive jazz movement they'd once shared with musicians like Sun Ra and Pharoah Sanders. It was at that point they recruited exciting jazz talents based in the UK like Joe Armon Jones from Mercury Prize winners Ezra Collective, also widely acclaimed producer/remixer and keyboard player Kaidi Tatham, who's been likened to Herbie Hancock, and British jazz legend Courtney Pine, whose genius on the saxophone and influence on the UK's now vibrant jazz scene is beyond question. The instrumental tracks on Africanism are in many ways as revelatory and exciting as the Last Poets' own. It's important to remember that the kaleidoscope of styles and influences we're presented with here aren't the result of sampling but were played "live" by musicians responding to sounds made by other musicians. That's where the magic comes from, aided by Prince Fatty's peerless mixing which allows us to hear everything with such clarity. Music fans today have grown accustomed to listening to all kinds of different genres. Their tastes have never been so broad or all- encompassing, and so the music on this new Last Poets' album is as groundbreaking as their lyrics, and perfectly suited to the era that we're now living in. John Masouri

RSD 2024

First time ever release on vinyl format. 180 GRAM BLACK VINYL. After The Sabres of Paradise split in 1995 Andrew Weatherall underwent one of many reinventions. He began working with Keith Tenniswood as Two Lone Swordsmen which released several records on the Warp label, set up a new electronic imprint under the Rotters Golf Club banner and fully explored new DJ personas departing from his house-based sets into dub, electronica and rockabilly. Renowned for unconventional sets where he’d raise the roof dropping an unexpected but exactly right track into the mix, he’d push the audience to new heights by introducing them to music they’d never even thought of exploring. The experiments went down especially well in Japan where he’d tour playing solo sets as well as performing alongside pioneers like Underworld, Adrian Sherwood and The Orb. In 2003 his new label, Rotters Golf Club, was approached by the Italian fashion house Emigliano Zegna to create some music to help launch their first foray into Japan. Andrew always had a keen eye for quality and agreed to provide some music. At the time it wasn’t envisaged as an album. He’d just grabbed some tracks he and Keith had been working on, polished them up and swapped them for a small advance and a large raid on their Bond Street store. He then let them get on with the release and turned his attention to the next TLS album proper. This was Double Gone Chapel where rock and psychobilly were mixed in with electronica and controversially Andrew added his own vocals. The Zegna album ‘Still My World’ was sidelined by a live band and a whole new direction. Andrew’s untimely death refocused attention on his historical recordings and ‘Still My World’, previously only released on CD in Japan, now sees the light of day in the rest of the world.

Horrible Occurrences is the title of the new Advance Base album, and there is truth in advertising. In these songs_all centered around a fictional town called Richmond and featuring an interlinked cast of characters_you will hear stories of death and disappearance, climactic confrontations and unsolved mysteries. "Richmond is just this place where all the bad memories live," Owen Ashworth explains, and nearly 30 years into his songwriting career, none of his records have packed quite the emotional intensity of this one. And yet something alchemical happens in the telling of these tales. Like a masterful short story collection, Horrible Occurrences is inspiring and alive, idiosyncratic and electric, pulling you closer with each word. In the six years since his last full-length collection of originals, 2018's Animal Companionship, Ashworth gathered ideas from performing live and traveling around the country, returning to cities that he once called home and revisiting old ghosts, memories, and fragments of unfinished ideas. Blending truth and fiction into a dreamlike composite, the songs convey the winding path our memory takes as the years go by, giving voice to a subconscious that is still unpacking old memories for new wisdom. Drawing inspiration from the otherworldly loneliness depicted on '80s masterpieces like Arthur Russell's World of Echo and Bruce Springsteen's Nebraska, the music never crowds Ashworth's detailed storytelling but it also never feels auxiliary. These are beautiful songs, but they stick with you for their ability to strike dissonant, unforgettable emotional chords. It is this pervasive empathy in Ashworth's songwriting_along with his writerly gift for clear settings and complex characters_that has made him a guiding light for so many independent artists. The things that happen throughout Horrible Occurrences are what we tend to call "unspeakable"_events that draw gut-level responses just from acknowledging that they could happen. But part of the triumph of the record is how simply and generously Ashworth finds the language to share them. For the characters in these songs who make it out okay, these are the types of memories they will be tossing and turning their whole lives, waiting for quiet moments to confide them among the people they trust. For the rest of us, they are signs of life along the highway on a dark, snowy night: reminders that, as isolated as we may feel, we are not alone on the road.

The Fluid are arguably the great unsung band from the fertile underground rock scene of the late '80s and early '90s. The Denver five-piece - John Robinson (vocals), James Clower (guitar), Matt Bischoff (bass), Garrett Shavlik (drums), and the dear departed Ricky Kulwicki (guitar) - fused the fire of '80s hardcore with crunching Detroit protopunk, '60s garage rock, and '70s rock swagger. Think MC5, Faces, '70s Stones, all cranked up and really high on Sex Pistols and Black Flag singles. Rising from the ashes of early-'80s Denver bands Frantix (whose "My Dad's a Fuckin' Alcoholic" is a true gem of American punk) and White Trash, The Fluid were the first non-Seattle band to sign to Sub Pop, and Clear Black Paper was the second full-length album the label ever released. The label honchos were fans of Frantix, and happily got involved with The Fluid when the opportunity arose via the label's European licensing partner, Glitterhouse. Witnessing The Fluid's dominant live presence helped - a particularly fiery early show at Seattle's Central Tavern featured The Fluid, Mudhoney, Mother Love Bone, and Soundgarden all trying to outdo one another on stage. The band fit right in on Sub Pop's nascent roster of acts who, wherever they stood on the spectrum of punk/rock/metal, shared a commitment to thunderous riffs and explosive live shows. Legendary for their ferocious stage presence, The Fluid toured all over the US and Europe, holding their own and then some on bills with Mudhoney, Nirvana, Soundgarden, Dinosaur Jr., and other powerhouses of the era. From 1986 to 1993, The Fluid put out four albums and a number of EPs and singles, including a split 7" with Nirvana in 1991, before doing one album for a major label and promptly disbanding. Yet, while their partners-in-crime bulldozed into the mainstream, The Fluid remained something of a cult band, their audience confined to those who got hip during the band's existence, and crate diggers who nabbed original vinyl or CDs, which had quickly become rarities after selling through their original runs. Why? Record industry machinations? The fickle finger of pop culture? Being from Denver, not Seattle? Who the hell knows_ and who cares! The point is the band ripped, and the world deserves to hear them again. The Fluid took influences they shared with their contemporaries and ran in their own direction, focused on ass-shaking grooves more than misanthropic sludge. Rock anthems like "Cold Outside" sit alongside Stooge-oid rhythmic poundings ("Black Glove"), bluesy romps ("Leave It"), the occasional grungy dirge ("Wasted Time"), and raw punk bangers ("Is It Day I'm Seeing?" from the seminal 1988 Sub Pop 200 compilation). The band wasn't shy about their inspiration, either: scattered through their catalog are covers of The Troggs, The Rolling Stones, MC5, Iggy Pop and James Williamson, and Rare Earth. The Fluid stand out as champions of a feral, urgent, exuberant approach to rock 'n roll. As it turns out, that wasn't a recipe for stardom in the era of hyper-slick pop, boomer dinosaurs crying tears in heaven, and hair-metal power-ballads. But someone had to do it. To set things right, Sub Pop, The Fluid, and producer Jack Endino (Nirvana, Soundgarden, High on Fire, Mudhoney) teamed up to refresh and reissue The Fluid's entire indie-label catalog: their 1986 debut, Punch N Judy; 1988's Clear Black Paper; 1989's Roadmouth; the 1990 Glue EP (produced by Butch Vig, of Nevermind fame); and a treasure trove of rarities and previously unreleased material. All the music has been remastered from original tapes by Endino and JJ Golden, and the bulk of it has been meticulously remixed by Endino and the band, righting some sonic quirks that diminished the impact of the original records. Now, with their definitive material sounding better than ever, it's high time The Fluid get their due.

The Tattooist of Auschwitz is a 2024 six-part TV miniseries based on the international bestselling novel by Heather Morris, inspired by the real-life story of Holocaust prisoners Lali and Gita Sokolov.

The story follows one man, Lali, a Slovakian Jew, who, in 1942, was deported to Auschwitz, the concentration camp where over a million Jews were murdered during the Holocaust. Shortly after
arrival, Lali was made one of the Tätowierer (tattooists), charged to ink identification numbers onto fellow prisoners’ arms. One day, he met Gita when tattooing her prisoner number on her arm, leading to a love that defies the horrors around them. The cast features Harvey Keitel, Melanie Lynskey, Jonah Hauer-King, and Anna Próchniak.

• 180 GRAM AUDIOPHILE VINYL
• INCLUDES 4-PAGE BOOKLET
• ORIGINAL SOUNDTRACK TO THE 2024 SKY TV MINISERIES STARRING JONAH HAUER-KING, ANNA PRÓCHNIAK, MELANIE LYNSKEY AND HARVEY KEITEL
• MUSIC COMPOSED AND PERFORMED BY LEGENDARY FILM COMPOSER HANS ZIMMER AND KARA TALVE
• SOUNDTRACK NOMINATED TWO TIMES AT THE PRIMETIME EMMY AWARDS
• FEATURING “LOVE WILL SURVIVE” PERFORMED BY BARBRA STREISAND
• BLACK VINYL

Music for the series was composed by multi Academy Award-winning composer Hans Zimmer and Kara Talve. The soundtrack also features the brand new song “Love Will Survive” by global music icon Barbra Streisand. The music for the show received 2 Primetime Emmy nominations, for “Outstanding Original Music and Lyrics” and “Outstanding Music Composition for a Limited or Anthology Series, Movie or Special (Original Dramatic Score)”

The Tattooist of Auschwitz is available on black vinyl and includes a 4-page booklet.

The Fluid are arguably the great unsung band from the fertile underground rock scene of the late '80s and early '90s. The Denver five-piece - John Robinson (vocals), James Clower (guitar), Matt Bischoff (bass), Garrett Shavlik (drums), and the dear departed Ricky Kulwicki (guitar) - fused the fire of '80s hardcore with crunching Detroit protopunk, '60s garage rock, and '70s rock swagger. Think MC5, Faces, '70s Stones, all cranked up and really high on Sex Pistols and Black Flag singles. Rising from the ashes of early-'80s Denver bands Frantix (whose "My Dad's a Fuckin' Alcoholic" is a true gem of American punk) and White Trash, The Fluid were the first non-Seattle band to sign to Sub Pop, and Clear Black Paper was the second full-length album the label ever released. The label honchos were fans of Frantix, and happily got involved with The Fluid when the opportunity arose via the label's European licensing partner, Glitterhouse. Witnessing The Fluid's dominant live presence helped - a particularly fiery early show at Seattle's Central Tavern featured The Fluid, Mudhoney, Mother Love Bone, and Soundgarden all trying to outdo one another on stage. The band fit right in on Sub Pop's nascent roster of acts who, wherever they stood on the spectrum of punk/rock/metal, shared a commitment to thunderous riffs and explosive live shows. Legendary for their ferocious stage presence, The Fluid toured all over the US and Europe, holding their own and then some on bills with Mudhoney, Nirvana, Soundgarden, Dinosaur Jr., and other powerhouses of the era. From 1986 to 1993, The Fluid put out four albums and a number of EPs and singles, including a split 7" with Nirvana in 1991, before doing one album for a major label and promptly disbanding. Yet, while their partners-in-crime bulldozed into the mainstream, The Fluid remained something of a cult band, their audience confined to those who got hip during the band's existence, and crate diggers who nabbed original vinyl or CDs, which had quickly become rarities after selling through their original runs. Why? Record industry machinations? The fickle finger of pop culture? Being from Denver, not Seattle? Who the hell knows_ and who cares! The point is the band ripped, and the world deserves to hear them again. The Fluid took influences they shared with their contemporaries and ran in their own direction, focused on ass-shaking grooves more than misanthropic sludge. Rock anthems like "Cold Outside" sit alongside Stooge-oid rhythmic poundings ("Black Glove"), bluesy romps ("Leave It"), the occasional grungy dirge ("Wasted Time"), and raw punk bangers ("Is It Day I'm Seeing?" from the seminal 1988 Sub Pop 200 compilation). The band wasn't shy about their inspiration, either: scattered through their catalog are covers of The Troggs, The Rolling Stones, MC5, Iggy Pop and James Williamson, and Rare Earth. The Fluid stand out as champions of a feral, urgent, exuberant approach to rock 'n roll. As it turns out, that wasn't a recipe for stardom in the era of hyper-slick pop, boomer dinosaurs crying tears in heaven, and hair-metal power-ballads. But someone had to do it. To set things right, Sub Pop, The Fluid, and producer Jack Endino (Nirvana, Soundgarden, High on Fire, Mudhoney) teamed up to refresh and reissue The Fluid's entire indie-label catalog: their 1986 debut, Punch N Judy; 1988's Clear Black Paper; 1989's Roadmouth; the 1990 Glue EP (produced by Butch Vig, of Nevermind fame); and a treasure trove of rarities and previously unreleased material. All the music has been remastered from original tapes by Endino and JJ Golden, and the bulk of it has been meticulously remixed by Endino and the band, righting some sonic quirks that diminished the impact of the original records. Now, with their definitive material sounding better than ever, it's high time The Fluid get their due.

The Fluid are arguably the great unsung band from the fertile underground rock scene of the late '80s and early '90s. The Denver five-piece - John Robinson (vocals), James Clower (guitar), Matt Bischoff (bass), Garrett Shavlik (drums), and the dear departed Ricky Kulwicki (guitar) - fused the fire of '80s hardcore with crunching Detroit protopunk, '60s garage rock, and '70s rock swagger. Think MC5, Faces, '70s Stones, all cranked up and really high on Sex Pistols and Black Flag singles. Rising from the ashes of early-'80s Denver bands Frantix (whose "My Dad's a Fuckin' Alcoholic" is a true gem of American punk) and White Trash, The Fluid were the first non-Seattle band to sign to Sub Pop, and Clear Black Paper was the second full-length album the label ever released. The label honchos were fans of Frantix, and happily got involved with The Fluid when the opportunity arose via the label's European licensing partner, Glitterhouse. Witnessing The Fluid's dominant live presence helped - a particularly fiery early show at Seattle's Central Tavern featured The Fluid, Mudhoney, Mother Love Bone, and Soundgarden all trying to outdo one another on stage. The band fit right in on Sub Pop's nascent roster of acts who, wherever they stood on the spectrum of punk/rock/metal, shared a commitment to thunderous riffs and explosive live shows. Legendary for their ferocious stage presence, The Fluid toured all over the US and Europe, holding their own and then some on bills with Mudhoney, Nirvana, Soundgarden, Dinosaur Jr., and other powerhouses of the era. From 1986 to 1993, The Fluid put out four albums and a number of EPs and singles, including a split 7" with Nirvana in 1991, before doing one album for a major label and promptly disbanding. Yet, while their partners-in-crime bulldozed into the mainstream, The Fluid remained something of a cult band, their audience confined to those who got hip during the band's existence, and crate diggers who nabbed original vinyl or CDs, which had quickly become rarities after selling through their original runs. Why? Record industry machinations? The fickle finger of pop culture? Being from Denver, not Seattle? Who the hell knows_ and who cares! The point is the band ripped, and the world deserves to hear them again. The Fluid took influences they shared with their contemporaries and ran in their own direction, focused on ass-shaking grooves more than misanthropic sludge. Rock anthems like "Cold Outside" sit alongside Stooge-oid rhythmic poundings ("Black Glove"), bluesy romps ("Leave It"), the occasional grungy dirge ("Wasted Time"), and raw punk bangers ("Is It Day I'm Seeing?" from the seminal 1988 Sub Pop 200 compilation). The band wasn't shy about their inspiration, either: scattered through their catalog are covers of The Troggs, The Rolling Stones, MC5, Iggy Pop and James Williamson, and Rare Earth. The Fluid stand out as champions of a feral, urgent, exuberant approach to rock 'n roll. As it turns out, that wasn't a recipe for stardom in the era of hyper-slick pop, boomer dinosaurs crying tears in heaven, and hair-metal power-ballads. But someone had to do it. To set things right, Sub Pop, The Fluid, and producer Jack Endino (Nirvana, Soundgarden, High on Fire, Mudhoney) teamed up to refresh and reissue The Fluid's entire indie-label catalog: their 1986 debut, Punch N Judy; 1988's Clear Black Paper; 1989's Roadmouth; the 1990 Glue EP (produced by Butch Vig, of Nevermind fame); and a treasure trove of rarities and previously unreleased material. All the music has been remastered from original tapes by Endino and JJ Golden, and the bulk of it has been meticulously remixed by Endino and the band, righting some sonic quirks that diminished the impact of the original records. Now, with their definitive material sounding better than ever, it's high time The Fluid get their due.

The Fluid are arguably the great unsung band from the fertile underground rock scene of the late '80s and early '90s. The Denver five-piece - John Robinson (vocals), James Clower (guitar), Matt Bischoff (bass), Garrett Shavlik (drums), and the dear departed Ricky Kulwicki (guitar) - fused the fire of '80s hardcore with crunching Detroit protopunk, '60s garage rock, and '70s rock swagger. Think MC5, Faces, '70s Stones, all cranked up and really high on Sex Pistols and Black Flag singles. Rising from the ashes of early-'80s Denver bands Frantix (whose "My Dad's a Fuckin' Alcoholic" is a true gem of American punk) and White Trash, The Fluid were the first non-Seattle band to sign to Sub Pop, and Clear Black Paper was the second full-length album the label ever released. The label honchos were fans of Frantix, and happily got involved with The Fluid when the opportunity arose via the label's European licensing partner, Glitterhouse. Witnessing The Fluid's dominant live presence helped - a particularly fiery early show at Seattle's Central Tavern featured The Fluid, Mudhoney, Mother Love Bone, and Soundgarden all trying to outdo one another on stage. The band fit right in on Sub Pop's nascent roster of acts who, wherever they stood on the spectrum of punk/rock/metal, shared a commitment to thunderous riffs and explosive live shows. Legendary for their ferocious stage presence, The Fluid toured all over the US and Europe, holding their own and then some on bills with Mudhoney, Nirvana, Soundgarden, Dinosaur Jr., and other powerhouses of the era. From 1986 to 1993, The Fluid put out four albums and a number of EPs and singles, including a split 7" with Nirvana in 1991, before doing one album for a major label and promptly disbanding. Yet, while their partners-in-crime bulldozed into the mainstream, The Fluid remained something of a cult band, their audience confined to those who got hip during the band's existence, and crate diggers who nabbed original vinyl or CDs, which had quickly become rarities after selling through their original runs. Why? Record industry machinations? The fickle finger of pop culture? Being from Denver, not Seattle? Who the hell knows_ and who cares! The point is the band ripped, and the world deserves to hear them again. The Fluid took influences they shared with their contemporaries and ran in their own direction, focused on ass-shaking grooves more than misanthropic sludge. Rock anthems like "Cold Outside" sit alongside Stooge-oid rhythmic poundings ("Black Glove"), bluesy romps ("Leave It"), the occasional grungy dirge ("Wasted Time"), and raw punk bangers ("Is It Day I'm Seeing?" from the seminal 1988 Sub Pop 200 compilation). The band wasn't shy about their inspiration, either: scattered through their catalog are covers of The Troggs, The Rolling Stones, MC5, Iggy Pop and James Williamson, and Rare Earth. The Fluid stand out as champions of a feral, urgent, exuberant approach to rock 'n roll. As it turns out, that wasn't a recipe for stardom in the era of hyper-slick pop, boomer dinosaurs crying tears in heaven, and hair-metal power-ballads. But someone had to do it. To set things right, Sub Pop, The Fluid, and producer Jack Endino (Nirvana, Soundgarden, High on Fire, Mudhoney) teamed up to refresh and reissue The Fluid's entire indie-label catalog: their 1986 debut, Punch N Judy; 1988's Clear Black Paper; 1989's Roadmouth; the 1990 Glue EP (produced by Butch Vig, of Nevermind fame); and a treasure trove of rarities and previously unreleased material. All the music has been remastered from original tapes by Endino and JJ Golden, and the bulk of it has been meticulously remixed by Endino and the band, righting some sonic quirks that diminished the impact of the original records. Now, with their definitive material sounding better than ever, it's high time The Fluid get their due.

Prairiewolf make easy listening music for an age of fracture. They almost do it in spite of themselves. No one can seriously question the head music bona fides of the members of this Colorado-based trio.

Guitarist Stefan Beck has already assembled a formidable discography of jewel-toned guitar zone-outs under his Golden Brown moniker. And keyboardist and guitarist Jeremy Erwin and bassist Tyler Wilcox have both made their reputations as chroniclers of the vast world of out-music. Erwin helms the indispensable Heat Warps blog, a performance-by-performance archive of Miles Davis’s labyrinthine electric period. And Wilcox has been covering the ragged edges of psychedelia and experimental rock at Aquarium Drunkard and other publications, not to mention his own virtual basement for heads, the great bootleg blog Doom and Gloom from the Tomb.

These guys come by it honestly. And yet, given their backgrounds, Prairiewolf’s self-titled debut last spring was remarkably free of face-melters, brown acid blowouts, and ascendant spiritual jazz odysseys. Instead, they dropped a record of beautiful, elegant, low-key cosmic groovers that sounded like the piped-in background music to a resort hotel on Jupiter. It was an unlikely psychedelia, brocaded with mid-twentieth century sonic threading from the hi-fi era: vintage synthesizers, smears of spaghetti western, luxe tropical details, the faint schmaltz of space age pop. Imagine something like a Harmonia residency in the airport lounge. And yet somehow it all worked brilliantly. Prairiewolf became last summer’s cool-down standard. After a year woodshedding around Colorado’s Front Range region, the Prairiewolf boys have fired up their trusty Korg SR-120 drum machine for another outstanding collection of suborbital exotica. The appropriately titled Deep Time operates in its own chronology, unspooling at its unhurried pace. All its incongruous period and stylistic references—the new age pulses, Hawaiian steel, shaggy hippie rambles, lysergic guitar spirals, and orchestral synthesizer flourishes—float atop the album’s own singular temporality. Deep Time makes its own time.

From the moment Beck folds his slide guitar, origami-like, into a sound resembling the call of gulls on the tranquil album opener, “Peach Blossom Paradise,” there is a sense of departure from everyday life. The shimmering “Lighthouse” has a similar sunbaked nonchalance, like an afternoon passed day-drinking in a seaside bar. That they named their lush, kaleidoscopic downtempo track “The Meander” pretty much says it all. The ranging, propulsive “Saying Yes to Everything” seems like a nod in the direction of Rose City Band’s brand of wookie krautrock. And the motorik noir of “Demon Cicadas in the Night” also goes hard. Beck and Erwin’s intertwined guitar jam on the eerie album standout “The Cold Curve” evolves into something that sounds like primitive computer music. A genteel bassline from Wilcox on another album highlight, “Revisionist Mystery,” sets the stage for a loopy space jazz turn from guest clarinettist Matt Loewen of Rayonism. The title of post-rock cowboy tune “Another Tomorrow” might refer to the alternative future that so many critics heard in the music of Prairiewolf’s first album. Or it might simply refer to the persistence of time, however deep. Either way,

I’m thankful for the way Prairiewolf make each of their tunes a little oasis or sanctuary, each subsisting according to its own crystalline little logic for a few minutes. It is no simple task to filter out the omnipresent anger and anxiety of everyday life these days. But Prairiewolf are out here making it seem easy.

Brent S. Sirota