quête:one of them

Cover versions of international songs have long thrived in South Africa’s music industry. Often unable to license the original tracks (until the early 90s the result of an international boycott of the country) labels instead hired producers and session artists to re-record them for the local market. Early house music in SA was no different.

When Ron ‘Robot’ Friedman, former bass player for local rockers Rabbitt, was winding down his label On Records in the early 90s, he reached out for new inspiration as the popularity of ‘bubblegum’ disco waned. For one of the label’s final releases he hired young DJ/producer Quentin Foster, obsessed with the new soulful house sound coming out of the US, to take the reins on a studio project dubbed Citi Express.

On Robot’s insistence it included a cover of Stevie Wonder’s ‘Living for the City’ (from 1973’s Innervisions) as the title track. Foster set to work in his home studio, dubbed Tone Def, selecting and re-working other US and UK tracks — ‘It’s Too Late’ (originally released in 1989 by Kelli Sae), ‘Love is the Message’ (influenced by the 70s soul anthem and credited to Gamble & Huff but bearing a closer resemblance to Better Days’ 1990 release written by Steve Proctor), ‘People of The World’ (recorded by Sorell Johnson in the UK in 1990) and ‘Victim of Your Love’ (released in 1990 by Gary Vonqwest as ‘Victim of Love’) — adding some signature South African touches in the process that foreshadow the imminent rise of kwaito. One original composition was added for good measure, ‘Open Invitation’.

The result offers a glimpse into those early days of house, a uniquely South African take on a global sound that still resonates today — reissued for the first time on Afrosynth Records.

The story of the invention of the term, 'deepfunk' is probably only known among fans and practitioners of this niche-genre. In short, it all started in the 1990s when DJs like Keb Darge, Mark 'Snowboy' Cotgrove and others began spinning obscure and feral Funk 45 RPM singles from local American bands, ostensibly generating another sub-category branch off of the mighty Northern Soul tree. The dance-club phenomenon inevitably spilled over to contemporary groups on the funk scene which immediately tried to record their music the way their idols did. The 'rare groove' and 'acid jazz' movements had run their course and there was a concerted effort to reinstate primitive idiomatic styles and techniques into the music, most notably by 90s funk collective The Poets of Rhythm. As more years passed by the number of bands steadily increased (although in tiny numbers, compared to the mainstream market). Almost every country had a representative with the majority of them coming from the United Kingdom. The deepfunk sound was still a niche, however a very few bands made it onto the mainstream charts, most notably Sharon Jones & the Dap Kings.

At the height of the retro-soul movement a questionable development took place. As more bands arrived on the scene, the production became more and more polished and pop-ish. Some of that squeaky-clean tidiness began to creep into the recordings, encouraged in part by the signature sounds of the digital recording technology available at that time. Some bands even tried to jump onto the possibility of promoting their music as 'deepfunk' although they were actually playing slick, funky pop music. This way some people who thought they were listening to raw, energetic funk actually felt quite ambushed when hit with real deepfunk. In fact, a certain percentage of funk music produced within the past 20 years does not deserve to be described as 'deepfunk' at all. Fortunately there were (and are) some pleasant exceptions which did not just imitate but actually rendered amazing funk music just like some of the finest funk combos of the 1960s and 70s.

One of those creative minds is without a doubt Joel Ricci aka Lucky Brown. Originally from Seattle, Washington, USA, he has enriched the deepfunk community since the mid-2000s with his stellar abilities. He is not only an amazing musician playing multiple instruments, but also a brilliant composer, arranger, and producer too. But for us here at Tramp he is much more, a close friend and remarkable human being. Whenever we were struggling, whether with the label or in private life, Joel and his musical work helped us to overcome everything and to keep going our path.

So here we are in 2023. The songs you are listening to right now are the complete Space Dream collection, split into two parts, representing the two living-room recording sessions from which his 2011 Tramp Records debut was compiled. Each fully remastered album contains unreleased material and comes with brand new, beautifully reimagined artwork by Ricci himself, housed in an authentic 1960s tip-on cover. A first class product from a first class musician for the discerning funk enthusiast.

It’s been nearly eight years since the last Mondo Drag album came out. In that time, the Bay Area psych-prog band toured the US and Europe, performed at major festivals and—once again—reformed their rhythm section. But in the context of the band’s nearly two-decade existence, this period may have been the most fraught. Vocalist and keyboardist John Gamiño lost friends and family members. Meanwhile, humanity suffered the throes of a global pandemic. “It was a dark chapter,” he recalls. “I was going through a lot of stuff personally—there’s been a lot of death, loss of family members, and grief. Plus, the band was inactive. It felt like time was slipping away from me. I felt like I was wasting my opportunities. I felt like I wasn’t participating in my story as much as I could have.” This feeling of time slipping away is the prevailing theme on Mondo Drag’s new album, Through the Hourglass. “For me, Through the Hourglass really encompasses the quarantine/pandemic years,” Gamiño says. “But in a way that includes a couple of years before that for us, because the band was stagnant during that time. Living with that was really impactful on our daily lives. So, the album is reflective. It’s looking at time—past, present, future.” Luckily, Mondo Drag emerged from this dour period reborn. Freshly energized by bassist Conor Riley (formerly of San Diego psych squad Astra, currently of Birth), who joined in 2018, and drummer Jimmy Perez, who joined in 2022, Gamiño and guitarists Jake Sheley and Nolan Girard have triumphed over the seemingly inexorable pull of time’s passage. “Astra was the one contemporary band that we felt was on the same tip as us,” Gamiño says. “We saw the similarities and felt the same vibe. Conor moved to San Francisco in 2018 and heard we were looking for a bassist, so we got in touch. For us, it was like, ‘The synth player from Astra wants to play bass for us?’ We couldn’t think of anybody more perfect.” Perez, meanwhile, brings deep psych-prog knowledge and impeccable skill. “He’s an amazing drummer, and he allowed us to do what we’ve been trying to do,” Gamiño says. “Before he came along, it was like, ‘Where are the drummers who like psych and prog and can play dynamically?’ We ended up trying out metal drummers, but they couldn’t swing. Jimmy was the final piece of the puzzle.” The result is a dazzling and often plaintive rumination on the hours, days, and years—not to mention experiences—that comprise a lifetime. Two-part opener “Burning Daylight” smolders with melancholy, offering a whirl of multi-colored and hallucinatory imagery. “It’s about the California wildfires and a feeling of helplessness,” Gamiño explains. “There’s a juxtaposition between the dark lyricism and upbeat music which is meant to imply a sort of delusional state—and choosing our own delusion to overcome the crushing despair of reality.” Eleven-minute centerpiece “Passages” is a sprawling prog-rock adventure, festooned with lofty guitar melodies, sweeping organ flourishes and a delicately finger-picked outro. But the heaviest song, thematically speaking, might be the mournful and hypnotic “Death in Spring,” which borrows its title from the like-named Catalan novel. “In the novel, people are placed inside opened trees and their mouths filled with cement before they die to prevent their souls from escaping,” Gamiño explains. “The song is about three people I knew who lost their lives to gun violence, addiction, and mental health. It’s my way of cementing their souls in song form.” Mondo Drag fans might be surprised by this blend of hard reality with literary surrealism, but it’s a perfect example of how the last several years have impacted Mondo Drag—and Gamiño in particular. “On all of our previous albums, the lyrical content is more psychedelic and out there,” he acknowledges. “This is the most personal stuff I’ve ever done, so I’m definitely feeling vulnerable on this one.” The title Through the Hourglass comes from the opening of the long-running soap opera Days of Our Lives. It’s less inspired by a predilection for daytime TV than Gamiño’s connection with his late mother, who passed during the time since the last album. “I used to watch Days of Our Lives with her everyday growing up,” he explains. “The song is kind of a reinterpretation of the theme song, although it’s different enough that probably no one will catch it. Now that I’m getting older, I like to put these little Easter eggs in the songs for myself and for archival purposes—for memories.” Through the Hourglass was tracked at El Studio in San Francisco, with an additional ten days of recording at the band’s rehearsal space, which doubles as a hybrid analog-digital recording studio. The album was engineered and mixed by Phil Becker, drummer of space-punk mainstays Pins Of Light. “We’re still here,” Gamiño says. “We’ve been in the studio working on our craft and honing our skills. Now we’re re-emerging for the next stage of our life cycle.”

RYUICHI SAKAMOTO'S LANDMARK 1981 ALBUM REISSUED FOR THE FIRST TIME IN DECADES OUTSIDE OF JAPAN. THE ALBUM WILL BE REISSUED IN ITS RARE JAPANESE EDITION TOGETHER WITH A 2-LP LIMITED EDITION FEATURING THE ALBUM PLUS A 2ND LP FEATURING ITS NEVER-RELEASED FULL INSTRUMENTAL MIX, ALL REMASTERED BY BERNIE GRUNDMAN.

Wewantsounds is proud to announce the reissue of Ryuichi Sakamoto's third solo album "Hidari Ude No Yume" (Left Handed Dream), originally released in 1981 on the Alfa label. Save for a small-scale Dutch vinyl release in 1981, it is the first time the album's original Japanese edition is released outside of Japan (the European release on Epic Records included significantly different tracks and mixes). Newly remastered from the original tapes by renowned engineer Bernie Grundman, this LP edition comes with original artwork featuring a striking cover shot by famous photographer Masayoshi Sukita (sourced from the original negative), OBI strip and 4-page insert with new introduction by journalist Anton Spice. The album will also be released as a 2-LP limited edition gatefold including the album's full instrumental mix.
Ryuichi Sakamoto's third album, "Hidari Ude No Yume" was recorded at the legendary Alfa Studio 'A' in Tokyo during the Summer of 1981. it came after "B-2 Unit" in 1980 and his debut album "Thousand Knives Of" in 1978, the very year Sakamoto was invited by Haruomi Hosono to join Yellow Magic Orchestra alongside Yukihiro Takahashi. In the process, they became global stars as the group rewrote the rules of electronic pop and toured around the world, yet Sakamoto was keen to remain active as a solo artist.
?In 1981, the musician decided to record an album rooted in Pop, following "B-2 Unit" which had a more of an experimental edge and his landmark electro debut from 1978. For this new album entitled "Hidari Ude No Yume," Sakamoto invited British producer Robin Scott, who had had huge hit with 'Pop Muzik,' to co-produce. They entered the Alfa studio in July 1981, accompanied by a handful of musicians. These included his fellow YMO musicians Haruomi Hosono and Yukihiro Takahashi, keyboard programmer extraordinaire Hideki Matsutake who'd been on Sakamoto's first two albums and became YMO's unofficial fourth member, violinist Kaoru Sato, saxophonist Satoshi Nakamura and American guitarist Adrian Belew who'd played with David Bowie, The Talking Heads' "Remain In Light" and more recently, Tom Tom Club’s debut (co-writing 'Genius Of Love').
?Together, they created a fascinating mix of pop, ambient and electronic music with elements of avant garde and traditional Japanese music, the whole firmly rooted in a solid groove. Sakamoto wanted to give the album a spontaneous feel and decided to let ideas flow and evolve organically during the sessions as musicians would develop them together. From the funk of 'Relâché' to the new wave feel of 'Venezia' and the ambient minimalism of 'Slat Dance,' the album is remarkably consistent while displaying a wealth of global influences as shown by the diversity of instruments featured on the credits: Marimba, didgeridu, traditional Japanese instruments such as the Sho and Hichiriki flutes.
?The album was released in Japan in 1981 and Epic Records picked it up for Europe a year later but decided to release it in a significantly altered version. The sequencing was completely reshuffled and two tracks, 'Saru No Ie' and 'Living In The Dark' were completely dropped while three others, ‘Relâché’, ‘Tell 'em To Me’, ‘Venezia’ were heavily remodelled with english lyrics and became 'Just About Enough', 'Once In A Lifetime' and 'The Left Bank'. Last but not least, a new English-sung track, 'The Arrangement,' was added, making the album nine tracks instead of ten for the Japanese edition.
Altogether this International version called "Left-Handed Dream" was a very different album from the Japanese one and although both were successful at the time and further established Ryuichi Sakamoto as a global solo artist, the Japanese edition of "Hidari Ude No Yume" remains largely unknown to international ears.
Wewantsounds is now delighted to release this original Japanese edition for the first time in decades as a single LP together with a 2-LP limited-edition set adding, as a bonus, its fascinating instrumental mix, discovered in the label's vaults a few years ago (Note that 'The Garden Of Poppies', 'Slat Dance' and 'Saru No Ie' are instrumentals but for the consistency of the album we kept them on the Instrumental Mix). "Hidari Ude No Yume" is an essential album in Ryuichi Sakamoto's rich discography. It is now available in its purest original Japanese form.

Its been five years since Belgium's WeMe Records lovingly selected the first ever collection of Heinrich Mueller's (Drexciya/Doppleffekt) best remixes/remodels for a new generation of listeners that won't have to pay collector prices to have them on vinyl. Volume 2 of False Vacuum is now with us and still has riches to choose from.

These 13 rare and hard to find tracks (3 of which make their vinyl debut) all deliver in different ways as he systematically reinvents each one.

Beginning with his raw and now classic remix of Ultradyne's 'Clones', the hard-edged dance-floor friendly 'Woman's Scent' by Cisco Ferreira (The Advent), the more laidback and futuristic sounding 'Bohrium 274' by Jauzas the Shining and Victoria Lukas, the slow and mysterious and first time on vinyl 'Somehow' by Rough Days For Diamond Trade, reinventing the darkest of dance-floors on 'Rytumtraks 0002' by Albert van Abbe, the moody masterpiece and first time on vinyl 'Now We Continue' by White Car, Duplex's 'Autoslug' sounding like its been rearranged inside a black-hole, a balancing act between the light and darkness on Fasenuova 'Cachito Turulo', an insistent rise and falling workout for As One's 'Where Did He Go and Why', a tightly wound and almost meditative 'The Truth' by The Exaltics, an angular stomping march of the robots 'Longwang' by 6D22, a jumpy fidgety groove for first time on vinyl 'Forty Eight Hours' by Yan Wagner and perhaps one of his most sublime pieces is kept for last with 'So Long For A Small Storm' by Dollska.

On Rock Island, their second LP, Palm produces evidence of a distinct musical language, developed over time, in isolation, and out of necessity. On the island, melodies are struck on what might be shells or spines. Rhythms are scratched out, swept over, scratched again. Individual instruments, and sometimes entire sections, skip and stutter. There is the sense of a music box with wonky tension or a warped transmission in which all the noise is taken for signal.

Like other groups so acclaimed for their compulsive live show, Palm has been burdened by the constant comparison between their recorded material and their touring set. On Rock Island, they render this tired discussion moot, using the album form to present that which could never be completely live, reserving for performance that which could never be completely reproduced.

Despite appearing behind the instruments typical of rock music, Palm trades in sounds of their own making. On these songs, one of the guitars and the drum kit are used as MIDI triggers, producing an index that can be combed through later and replaced with new information. The percussion is sometimes augmented so as to suggest a multiplication of limbs. The strings are manipulated to choke, crack, and hum like other instruments, or other bodies, might.

Working again with engineer Matt Labozza, the band spent the better part of a month in a rented farmhouse in Upstate New York. With the benefits of time and space, Palm recorded the various elements piecemeal, only rarely playing together in groups larger than two or three. While some members tracked, others holed up in the next room, experimenting with quantization, beat replacement, and other methods borrowed from electronic music. Even accounting for the many labors that brought them to be, these materials seem produced by an organic logic. Their complex friction forms a habit of thought, scores a network of grooves on the floor of the mind.

This is music with dimensionality. Sonic objects are deployed, developed, and dissected in various states of mutation. The listener flits about between the field and the lab. The tone is warm in a way only the sun could make, the pace as forceful and as variable as a gale. Whether one locates Rock Island in a sea or in a refinished attic (as in Greg Burak's album cover), whether one escapes to there or is banished, its psychic environs are charted clearly enough. Only at this remove from the mainland can we sense the conditions necessary for such a strange species of sound.

Japan has produced some exceptionally talented jazz drummers and among them is Tatsuya Nakamura, who joins the BBE Music J Jazz Masterclass Series with his album ‘Locus’ from 1984, a session covering several bases, from heavy percussive samba to meditative avant-ambient. This is the album’s first ever reissue, although a track from ‘Locus’, ‘¼ Samba’, was included on J Jazz vol. 3. Nakamura began his drumming career as a teenager, inspired after seeing the documentary film “Jazz on A Summer’s Day” and listening to his idols Art Blakey and Miles Davis. By his early twenties, Nakamura was working with such luminaries as free jazz guitarist Masayuki Takayanagi, pianist Masaru Imada and band leader & composer Mitsuaki Kanno. In the mid-70s, like several other Japanese jazz players, Nakamura decided to make the move to New York where he studied drumming with Roy Haynes, and performed with members of the AACM and players from the loft and free jazz scenes including Richard Davis, George Adams, John Hicks, and Pharaoh Sanders. Returning to Japan, Nakamura continued playing as leader of his Japanese band The Jazz Fellows and in 1979, he went into the studio as leader for the classic “Where Is The Quarter” session featuring Masaru Imada, Hideto Kanai and Kenji Mori. This session includes the original percussion heavy version of ‘¼ Samba’ and was followed by a period back in NYC during which he recorded the funky/free session ‘Rip Off’ in 1980. 1984 saw Nakamura working as leader of a heavy-duty fusion septet and in February of that year he led them in a performance at Audio Technica Hall. The album ‘Locus’ on Sea Horse Records is the label’s one and only release. On ‘Locus’, Nakamura is joined by a stellar line-up. On trumpet is Shinobu Fujimoto and he’s joined by seasoned bass player Hideto Kanai (1931 -2011) who began playing in the mid-1950s, appearing on King Recs All-Star Jazz Series before going on to be a regular fixture on the legendary Three Blind Mice (TBM) label, backing many of its leading artists. He even released his own album on TBM, ‘Ode to Birds’ in 1975. On guitar is Kazumasa Akiyama. Born in Tokyo in 1955, he taught himself guitar at 10 years old and was influenced initially by The Beatles and Ray Charles, and later Jimi Hendrix, Cream, Chicago Blues, and jazz. When he was a student, he got a chance to appear on Sadao Watanabe's radio program ‘My Dear Life’, which led him to join the Isao Suzuki Group and Mikio Masuda Group. Akiyama released his first leader album ‘Dig My Style’ in 1978 and is still an active musician. On keys is the incredible Jun Fukamachi (1946-2010). Born in Harajuku, Tokyo, Fukamachi started playing the piano at the age of three, showing an extraordinary talent, recognised as a child prodigy. He became a professional musician while still in school and released his first album ‘Portrait of a Young Man’ on Polydor in 1971.

Woods are in bloom again, inviting you to disappear into a new spectrum of colors and sounds and dreams on Perennial. Formed in Brooklyn in 2004, Woods have matured into a true independent institution, above and below the root, reliably emerging every few years with new music that grows towards the latest sky. Operating the Woodsist label since 2006 and curating the beloved homespun Woodsist Festival for the musical universe they’ve built, Perennial is the sound of a band on the edge of their 20th anniversary and still finding bold new ways to sound like (and challenge) themselves. Perennial grew from a bed of guitar/keyboard/drum loops by Woods head-in-chief Jeremy Earl, a form of winter night meditation that evolved into an unexplored mode of collaborative songwriting. With Earl’s starting points, he and bandmates Jarvis Taveniere and John Andrews convened, first at Earl’s house in New York, then at Panoramic House studio in Stinson Beach, California, site of sessions for 2020’s Strange To Explain. With a view of the sparkling Pacific and tape rolling, they began to build, jamming over the loops, switching instruments, and developing a few dozen building blocks. The album’s resulting 11 songs, 4 of them instrumental, are in the classic Woods mode--shimmering, familiar, fractionally unsettling--but with the half-invisible infinity boxes of Earl’s loops burbling beneath each like a mysterious underground source. From source to seed to bloom, each loop unfolds into something unpredictable, from the jeweled pop of the aching “Little Black Flowers” to the ecstatic starlit freak-beat of “Another Side.” They are blossomings both far-out and comforting, like the Mellotronic cloud-hopping of “Between the Past,” or sometimes just plain comforting, like the widescreen snowglobe fantasia of the instrumental “White Winter Melody,” touched by Connor Gallaher’s pedal steel. Woods have long used the studio as a place of songwriting, naming 2007’s At Rear House after their shared dwelling and recording space. But Perennial also carries with it an even longer view of Woods. Emerging from the process alongside the music was Earl’s reflection that “perennial plants and flowers are nature’s loops,” an idea rolling under the album’s lyrics like the loops themselves. It certainly applies to the band, too, who have quietly tended to a long, committed project of being a band in the weird-ass 21st century, both individually and communally. Though separated by coasts, the communal sprit carries through Earl, Taveniere, and Andrews’ collaboration, a living embodiment of the freedoms rediscovered every time a new collectively created piece of music emerges. For nearly two decades, Woods have survived subgenres, anchored in the fertile soil below hashtags like lo-fi and freak-folk and psychedelic and indie, and built a shared history that’s something to marvel at. As the flagship band for Woodsist, they’ve accumulated a striking extended family of collaborators (and Woods alum) that have made the label one of the most dependable imprints in the kaleidoscopic low-key underground. It’s a glow that’s transferred whole to the blissed-out Woodsist Fests held in Accord, New York in recent years, which have folded in a wide range of diverse sounds, from the the jazz cosmoverse of the Sun Ra Arkestra and adventurous legends Yo La Tengo, to a hard-to-even-count family tree of contemporaries, like Kevin Morby (who served a few tours of duty as Woods bassist) and Kurt Vile (who released his 2009 debut on Woodsist), a living community in sound. Perennial carries all of this, shaped by decades, but made in the moment, and here right now. The smell of the flowers doesn’t remain, but sometimes the flowers do. Jesse Jarnow Recorded and mixed by Jarvis Taveniere at Panoramic House in Stinson Beach, CA with additional recording at The Ship in Los Angeles, CA and Cottekill Bird Sanctuary in Stone Ridge, NY. Produced by Jarvis Taveniere and Jeremy Earl. Mastered by Timothy Stollenwerk at Stereophonic Mastering in Portland, OR. Jeremy Earl - vocals, guitars, drums, percussion, sk-5, mellotron, vibraphone, autoharp, loops Jarvis Taveniere - guitar, bass, upright bass, hammond, vocals John Andrews - piano, organs, mellotron, drums, vocals Connor Gallaher - Pedal Steel Kyle Forester - sax, wurlitzer

Woods are in bloom again, inviting you to disappear into a new spectrum of colors and sounds and dreams on Perennial. Formed in Brooklyn in 2004, Woods have matured into a true independent institution, above and below the root, reliably emerging every few years with new music that grows towards the latest sky. Operating the Woodsist label since 2006 and curating the beloved homespun Woodsist Festival for the musical universe they’ve built, Perennial is the sound of a band on the edge of their 20th anniversary and still finding bold new ways to sound like (and challenge) themselves. Perennial grew from a bed of guitar/keyboard/drum loops by Woods head-in-chief Jeremy Earl, a form of winter night meditation that evolved into an unexplored mode of collaborative songwriting. With Earl’s starting points, he and bandmates Jarvis Taveniere and John Andrews convened, first at Earl’s house in New York, then at Panoramic House studio in Stinson Beach, California, site of sessions for 2020’s Strange To Explain. With a view of the sparkling Pacific and tape rolling, they began to build, jamming over the loops, switching instruments, and developing a few dozen building blocks. The album’s resulting 11 songs, 4 of them instrumental, are in the classic Woods mode--shimmering, familiar, fractionally unsettling--but with the half-invisible infinity boxes of Earl’s loops burbling beneath each like a mysterious underground source. From source to seed to bloom, each loop unfolds into something unpredictable, from the jeweled pop of the aching “Little Black Flowers” to the ecstatic starlit freak-beat of “Another Side.” They are blossomings both far-out and comforting, like the Mellotronic cloud-hopping of “Between the Past,” or sometimes just plain comforting, like the widescreen snowglobe fantasia of the instrumental “White Winter Melody,” touched by Connor Gallaher’s pedal steel. Woods have long used the studio as a place of songwriting, naming 2007’s At Rear House after their shared dwelling and recording space. But Perennial also carries with it an even longer view of Woods. Emerging from the process alongside the music was Earl’s reflection that “perennial plants and flowers are nature’s loops,” an idea rolling under the album’s lyrics like the loops themselves. It certainly applies to the band, too, who have quietly tended to a long, committed project of being a band in the weird-ass 21st century, both individually and communally. Though separated by coasts, the communal sprit carries through Earl, Taveniere, and Andrews’ collaboration, a living embodiment of the freedoms rediscovered every time a new collectively created piece of music emerges. For nearly two decades, Woods have survived subgenres, anchored in the fertile soil below hashtags like lo-fi and freak-folk and psychedelic and indie, and built a shared history that’s something to marvel at. As the flagship band for Woodsist, they’ve accumulated a striking extended family of collaborators (and Woods alum) that have made the label one of the most dependable imprints in the kaleidoscopic low-key underground. It’s a glow that’s transferred whole to the blissed-out Woodsist Fests held in Accord, New York in recent years, which have folded in a wide range of diverse sounds, from the the jazz cosmoverse of the Sun Ra Arkestra and adventurous legends Yo La Tengo, to a hard-to-even-count family tree of contemporaries, like Kevin Morby (who served a few tours of duty as Woods bassist) and Kurt Vile (who released his 2009 debut on Woodsist), a living community in sound. Perennial carries all of this, shaped by decades, but made in the moment, and here right now. The smell of the flowers doesn’t remain, but sometimes the flowers do. Jesse Jarnow Recorded and mixed by Jarvis Taveniere at Panoramic House in Stinson Beach, CA with additional recording at The Ship in Los Angeles, CA and Cottekill Bird Sanctuary in Stone Ridge, NY. Produced by Jarvis Taveniere and Jeremy Earl. Mastered by Timothy Stollenwerk at Stereophonic Mastering in Portland, OR. Jeremy Earl - vocals, guitars, drums, percussion, sk-5, mellotron, vibraphone, autoharp, loops Jarvis Taveniere - guitar, bass, upright bass, hammond, vocals John Andrews - piano, organs, mellotron, drums, vocals Connor Gallaher - Pedal Steel Kyle Forester - sax, wurlitzer

In the late '70s, The Avengers established themselves as one of the US's preeminent punk bands. Fusing incisive guitar hooks, explosive rhythms and adolescent venom, the group forged some of the most in-your-face songs of the era. Their live shows were legendary, playing up and down the West Coast and even blowing Sex Pistols off the stage at the latter's final performance.

As Byron Coley writes in the liner notes, "Of the best bands of San Francisco's first wave in 1977, The Avengers were by far the coolest and youngest sounding. They roared without irony, as though this were indeed Year Zero (and, for a moment, it was) with history being overwritten by the new. The honesty of their belief was carried by their sound. And it was convincing!"

Originally released in 1983, four years after the band's dissolution, The Avengers' self-titled LP is often referred to as "The Pink Album" for its magenta-hued cover design. Frontwoman Penelope Houston's iconic voice and razor-sharp lyrics resonate on anthems "We Are The One" and "The American In Me," while penetrating ballads like "Corpus Christi" reveal a truly out-of-body euphony.

The Pink Album remains The Avengers' definitive statement - collecting their classic Dangerhouse EP, sessions recorded with the Pistols' Steve Jones and a half-dozen revelatory demos. While much has been written about The Avengers in the past three decades, rock critic Greil Marcus puts it succinctly, "The word I always come back to is mystical, and that remains almost theirs alone."

Fake Yourself is an act of revolt as much as it is a celebration of life and an expression of human alienation. As usual in most of his work, soFa here reflects contrasts and contradictions as our existence so often does. It’s about sadness and joy, ups and downs and the fine line which connects them to tell a story. Fake Yourself comes as a spontaneous output of an artist escaping a scene of which the constant superficiality is unavoidable. Mistakes and wrong production with a strong DIY flavor are a conscious choice to not lose the spontaneous feeling which defines these recordings. A pure and direct self, exploring a realm of sound with sharp curiosity, emotion and humour. Where simplicity and complexity marry. This album is a good example on how some of the most authentic musical explorations are the most personal ones. soFa leaves all boundaries behind and let many of his influences confluence. Unconsciously or not, traces of IDM, Disco, New Beat, Dub and mostly Krautrock cross heavenly paths, followed by ironic and confronted vocals and his hypnotic signature basslines. Everything seems to make sense, to fill the chapters of an adventurous short novel. What makes Fake Yourself remarkable is not the deep blend of genres, but the definition of one man shaping and finding his authentic sound. Killing boundaries to create this journey in his very own "style-no-style". All tunes were improvised, recorded and arranged within 10 days in a wooden cabin, isolated in the middle of the nature in Alentejo/Portugal in 2022. This album was not meant to happen and one can strongly feel its spontaneous soul. No overdubs.

Thanks to dedicated fan Tom Huissen who took his one channel reel-to-reel tape recorder into various London clubs in 1967, these historical performances were captured for all time. Unheard for almost fifty years, John recently obtained these tapes and began restoring them with the technical assistance of Eric Corne of Forty Below Records. Corne adds, "While the source recording was very rough and the final result is certainly not hi- fidelity, it does succeed in allowing us to hear how spectacular these performances are." It's truly an exciting glimpse into music history

Alex Silvi also known as Alien Signal is an Italian composer who profoundly tasted the creation and evolution of electronic dance music. He grew his music interest during the late 80s in Belgium under the strong ascendancy of key venues such as La Rocca, Boccaccio, and Fuse. Consequently moving to Rome in the early 90s where the techno scene was flourishing. In 1992 released on Upland Recordings, managed by S.Paganelli author of Defcon 5 And Altitude, the album "Alien Signal" - "The Search Begins" including the track called "Atomic", which very soon became one of the anthems for the Roman techno hood of that time. Superluminal Recordings is honored to guide you through trance-progressive themes of evangelical nostalgia. "Circularity" induces inner meditation due to melancholic strings and slow-descending ethereal scenarios, fresh-tasting melodies blended into soft-decaying instrumental charm. All compositions have been re-collected from an early 90s Alien Signal archive.

One of Death Metal's biggest bands, DYING FETUS return with their highly anticipated new album, Make Them Beg For Death. Recorded in Baltimore with longtime producer Steve Wright and mixed by Mark Lewis (Cannibal Corpse), Make Them Beg For Death contains every DYING FETUS hallmark. The veteran Death Metal band’s ninth album is fast, intense, and brimming with unstoppable grooves. Monstrous riffs, blast beats, unstoppable hooks, and earth-moving grooves define their catalog. “We put our own twist on Death Metal,” explains co-vocalist/guitarist John Gallagher. “We were like most bands, starting in the garage, drinking beer, having a little fun on the weekend, finding the right amps through trial and error. We blended aspects of bands we liked – Suffocation, Obituary, Deicide, and Cannibal Corpse, among others; the dual vocal approach of Carcass – and made them our own. ‘Let’s make it moshy, let’s make it slammy.’” Make Them Beg For Death delivers savage beatdowns equally designed to pulverize and mesmerize. “It follows on from where Wrong One To Fuck With left off,” drummer Trey Williams promises. “We don’t need to participate in the technical death metal arms race. We’ve got the big guns, and we’ve proven that. It’s all about pointing them in the right direction, so to speak.” To the men of DYING FETUS, the mission is straightforward. “The philosophy is the same now as it was when the band started,” Gallagher confirms. “To write catchy riffs and to make it memorable. Whatever style of music you’re doing, make it something people want to hear repeatedly.”

During their original run, Stornoway achieved immense critical acclaim, fan adoration and two Top 20 albums, one of which (their debut ‘Beachcomber’s Windowsill’) was certified Silver. But in 2016 they announced that they were ending on a high (2015’s ‘Bonxie’ being “their best album yet” according to The Guardian) with the following year’s farewell tour, although their rapturously received WOMAD set (“a magnificent farewell”, The Spectator) was delayed until 2022. They still earned new fans, however, when their version of ‘The Only Way Is Up’ exceeded 2 million streams after being used in an advert and in various TV shows.

Vocalist/guitarist Brian Briggs stopped songwriting altogether and instead pursued a new career passion managing a wetland for water voles and lapwings. Nonetheless, Brian and bandmates Jon Ouin (keyboard) and Oli Steadman (bass) stayed in torch, and step-by-step they reconnected with the love of creating music that had first inspired them to start a band.

Showcasing CLT DRP’s unique position at the cutting edge of electronic, noise-infused music, Nothing Clever, Just Feelings seamlessly merges various genres to create a unique sound that is both exhilarating and reflective. Focused on themes of queerness and heartbreak, each track explores the raw emotions that come along with these lived experiences, delivering a personal and poignant message at every turn—newfound feminism in vulnerability and gender fluidity; newfound femininity in humour and the fear of being alone.

A.R. Kive collates the three most astonishing works from that most miraculous of duos - A.R. Kane - comprising the ‘Up Home’ EP from 1988 that signified the band’s dawning realisation of their own powers and possibilities, their legendary debut LP ‘sixty nine’ (1988) and its kaleidoscopic, prophetic double-LP follow up ‘i’ (1989).

In founder-member Rudy Tambala’s new remastering, the music on these pivotal transmissions from the birth of dream pop, have been reinvigorated and re-infused with a new power, a new depth and intimacy, a new height and immensity. Vivid, timeless and yet always timely whenever they’re recalled, these records still force any listener to realise that despite the habits of retrospective myth-making and the
safe neutering effects of ‘genre’, thirty years have in no way dimmed how resistant and dissident to critical habits of categorisation A.R. Kane always were. Never quite ‘avant-pop’ or ‘shoegaze’ or ‘post-rock’ or any of those sobriquets designed to file and categorise, A.R. Kive is a reminder that those genres had to be coined, had to be invented precisely to contain the astonishing sound of A.R. Kane, because
previous formulations couldn’t come close to their sui generis sound and suggestiveness. This is music that pointed towards futures which a whole generation of artists and sonic explorers would map out. Now beautifully repackaged, remastered and fleshed out with extensive sleeve notes and accompanying materials, ‘A.R. Kive’ reveals that 35 years on it’s still a struggle to defuse the revolutionary and inspirational possibility of A.R. Kane’s music.

A.R. Kane were formed in 1986 by Rudy Tambala and Alex Ayuli, two second-generation immigrants who grew up together in Stratford, East London. From the off the pair were outsiders in the culturally mixed (cockney/Irish/West Indian/Asian) milieu of the East End, with Alex and Rudy’s folks first generation immigrants from Nigeria and Malawi, respectively. The two of them quickly developed and fostered an innate and near-telepathic mutual understanding forged in musical, literary and artistic exploration. Like a lot of second-generation immigrants, they were ferocious autodidacts in all kinds of areas, especially around music and literature. Diving deep into the music of afro-futurist luminaries such as Sun Ra, Miles Davis, Lee Perry and
Hendrix, as well as devouring the explorations of lysergic noise and feedback from contemporaries like Sonic Youth and Butthole Surfers, they also thoroughly immersed themselves in the alternate literary realities of sci-fi and ancient history (the fascination with the arcane that gave the band their name), all to feed their voracious cultural thirsts and intellectual curiosity.

It was seeing the Cocteau Twins performing on Channel 4 show the Tube that spurred A.R. Kane into being - “They had no drummer. They used tapes and technology and Liz Fraser looked completely otherworldly with those big eyes. And the noise coming out of Robin’s guitar! That was the ‘Fuck! We could do that! We could express ourselves like that!’ moment”, recalls Tambala - and through a mix of
confidence, chutzpah, ad hoc almost-mythical live shows and sheer innocent will the duo debuted with the astonishing ‘When You’re Sad’ single for One Little Indian in 1986. Immediately dubbed a ‘black Jesus & Mary Chain’ by a press unsure of WHERE to put a black band clearly immersed in feedback and noise, what was immediately apparent for listeners was just how much more was going on here - a
tapping of dub’s stealth and guile, a resonant umbilicus back to fusion and jazz, the music less a conjuration of past highs than a re-summoning of lost spirits.
The run of singles and EPs that followed picked up increasingly rapt reviews in the press, but it was the ‘Up Home EP’ released in 1988 on their new home, Rough Trade that really suggested something immense was about to break. Simon Reynolds noted the EP was: Their most concentrated slab of iridescent awesomeness and a true pinnacle of an era that abounded with astounding landmarks of guitar-reinvention, A.R. Kane at their most elixir-like.

If anything, the remastered ‘Up Home’ that forms the first part of ‘A.R. Kive’ is even more dazzling, even more startling than it was when it first emerged, and listening now you again wonder not just about how many bands christened ‘shoegaze’ tried to emulate it, but how all of them fell so far short of its lambent, pellucid wonder. This remains intrinsically experimental music but with none of the frowning orthodoxy those words imply. A.R. Kane, thanks to that second generation auto-didacticism were always supremely aware about the interstices of music and magic, but at the same time gloriously free in the way they explored that connection within their own sound, fascinated always with the creation of ‘perfect mistakes’ and the possibilities inherent in informed play.

‘sixty nine’ the group’s debut LP that emerged in 1988 had
critics and listeners struggling to fit language around A.R. Kane’s sound. As a title it was telling - the year of ‘Bitches Brew’, the year of ‘In A Silent Way’, the erotic möbius between two lovers - and as originally coined by the band themselves, ‘dream pop’ (before it became a free-floating signifier of vague import) was entirely apposite for the music A.R. Kane were making. Crafted in a dark small basement studio in which Tambala recalls the duo had “complete freedom - We wanted to go as far out as we could, and in doing so we discovered the point where it stops being music”. There was an irresistibly dreamy, somnambulant, sensual and almost surreal flow to ‘sixty nine’s sound, but also real darkness/dankness, the ruptures of the primordial and the reverberations of the subconscious, within the grooves of remarkable songs like ‘Dizzy’ and ‘Crazy Blue’. Alex’s plangent vocals floated and surged amidst exquisite peals of refracted feedback but crucially there was BASS here, lugubrious and funky and full of dread, sonic pleasure and sonic disturbance crushed together to make music with a center so deep it felt subcutaneous, music constructed from both the accidental and the deliberate, generous enough to dance with both serendipity and chaos. ‘sixty nine’ remains - especially in this remastered iteration - ravishing, revolutionary.

The final part of this ‘A.R. Kive’ contains 1989’s astonishing double-LP ‘i’ which followed up on ‘sixty nine’s promise and saw the duo fully unleash their experimental pop sensibilities over 26 tracks, plunging the A.R. Kane sound into a dazzlingly kaleidoscopic vision of pop experiment and play. Suffused with new digital technologies and combining searingly sweet and danceable pop with perhaps the duo’s strangest and boundary-pushing compositions, the album did exactly what a great double-set should do - indulge the artists sprawling pursuit of their own imaginations but always with a concision and an ear for those moments where pop both transcends and toys with the listeners expectations. Jason Ankeny has noted that “In retrospect, ‘i’ now seems like a crystal ball prophesying virtually every major musical development of the 1990s; from the shimmering techno of ‘A Love from Outer Space’ to the liquid dub of ‘What’s All This Then?’, from the alien drone-pop of ‘Conundrum’ to the sinister shoegazer miasma of ‘Supervixens’ — it’s all here, an underground road map for countless bands to follow.” Perhaps the most overwhelmingly all-encompassing transmission from A.R. Kane, ‘i’ bookended a three year period in which the duo had made some of the most prophetic and revelatory music of the entire decade.

After ‘i’ the duo’s output became more sporadic with Tambala and Ayuli moving in different directions both geographically and musically, with only 1994’s ‘New Clear Child’ a crystalline re-fraction of future and past echoes of jazz, folk and soul, before the duo went their separate ways. Since then, A.R. Kane’s music has endured, not thanks to the usual sepia’d false memories that seem to maintain interest in so much of the musical past, but because those who hear A.R. Kane music and are changed irrevocably, have to share that universe which A.R. Kane opened up, with anyone else who will listen. Far more than other lauded documents of the late 80s it still sounds astonishingly fresh, astonishingly livid and vivid and necessary and NOW.

A long-in-the-works project of ours, here comes A Tribe Called Kotori's first foray into full-length territories, as the immensely talented Rampue takes us on a melancholy-riddled ride across his phantasmatic mindscapes. A true sound explorer, deftly steering his ship down the junction of electronica, abstract and balearic-infused prog house, the Berlin-based vibist has us transfixed and elevated throughout the twelve cuts that form the backbone to this lushly textured promenade in sound - at times understatedly euphoric, at others rivetingly exotic.

Of the creative process that lead to 'Bubblebath Trance', Rampue explains "It all started and ended in the same moment: my cherished feline companion, my laptop awash with an unintended bath, and alas, a dearth of backups. The resultant calamity, an echo of chaotic tranquility." Under the generous layer of irony lies some unaltered truth about Rampue's debut long-player for A Tribe Called Kotori: this sense of serenity that goes with stepping into this warm and bubbling primitive chaos of sorts infuses the listening experience far and wide. Distantly emulating the "euphonious strains" of iconic PS1 video games soundtracks from his youth days, the album has us surfing a constant paradox of emotions, wistful but not abandoning itself to sorrow, dynamic yet suspended in some sort of mind-expanding stasis. As if you were looking at the world beneath you in exploded view, conscious of all thing, slowly moving up the many layers of our atmosphere towards uncharted skies.

A paragon of Rampue's most poignant take on classic electronica tropes, 'Harmonie' blazes with a poetic fire that engulfs about everything in its wake. Just figure yourself riding a chocobo across the sand-covered expanse of North Corel (toasting to the FFVII nerds here) as this blasts out in the distance. From this trancey bubblebath emerge lots of musical shades and nuances, from the nicely dubbed-out, brass-heavy coastal jazz of 'Schattenschranz' to the choppy, trip-hop-adjacent future electronics of 'Inside', via the exuberantly joyous mess of faux-organic number 'Tripomatic' and cinematic charisma of 'Ich hasse Sonne' high-flying orchestrations.

Connecting the dots between that trance-indebted ebullience and further downtempo-friendly attraction, 'Verfahren' perhaps encompasses best what 'Bubblebath Trance' is about: gracefully walking the tightrope in-limbo nostalgia-soaked inner movements and a powerful outward thrust, burning to let the feelings ooze out from the shell that holds them.Clad in purely 90s-compatible breaksy motion, 'Salz' is another attempt to reconcile emotional and physical dissonance, like kneading all states - solid, liquid and vaporous - into an impossible mega-vibe of its own; malleable, strong and enveloping in equal measure. Borrowing from two-step and UK garage, 'Take Away' is a definite high in Rampue's master unfolding of musical twists and turns, summoning a Boarder Community-esque atmosphere and clashing it alongside floor-ready footwork motifs to fascinating effect.

An ode to his studio companion, 'Buchla Trip' finds Rampue's exploring his machinic friend's quirky yet soulful array of electronic potentialities - making it sound like a conversation you'd have with R2-D2 in the heart of a Sandcrawler, whereas 'Kajal' beams us up to a fragmented headspace, halfway altered PC-Pop and arps-loaded electronica on amphetamines. Effusive and transporting, the title-track 'Bubblebath Trance' could well figure as the album's no.1 medley in essence: a bountiful lucid dream of dancing forms, colours and sentiments to wrap your head around, confidently drifting from a liminal state of consciousness down the rapids of one's troubled inner workings.

Rounding off the package, the languid ambient finale of 'Die Leiden des hungrigen Fruehstuecks' rubber-stamps the feeling that 'Bubblebath Trance' belongs to that rare category of albums. The ones that mint their own alphabet aside from typical norms and expectations, teaching you the ropes of their new language as it unreels between your ears - real and unreal, elusive to any other meaning than the one your guts and brains will be inclined to give it to, in real time. A crystal-pure object if you will, that shall not reveal its secrets, even after a thousand listens and just as many wowing moments.

Producer Scrappy Jud Newcomb and Cleaves teamed up for the third time in early 2022 between Covid surges to record a new batch of songs, Slaid's first in five years.

Familiar themes of struggle and resilience will be a surprise to no one. As Scrappy puts it, "This album speaks to the hopeful, the hard working, the battered, confused, and the sad. But above all to the believers in the city of freedom that we heard in the stories of our youth and all those FM radio hits."

The first single, "Through the Dark," was co- written with Slaid's long- time collaborator and life- long friend, Rod Picott ("Broke Down," "Take Home Pay").

Slaid describes it simply as "a song about offering comfort in hard times."
Joseph Hudak of Rolling Stone calls Cleaves "a master storyteller, one influenced not by the shine of pop-culture but by the dirt of real life."

"More than 20 years into his career, Slaid Cleaves just keeps getting better . . .

There are few contemporaries that compare. He's become a master craftsman on the order of Guy Clark and John Prine." - Austin Chronicle