Totality! It can only be good news. The second convergence of Natural Information Society and Bitchin Bajas, years removed from the first, misses no steps and posits low-key revolutions in gravity for everyone instead. LPs divide inevitably into two halves; here, the first side could be typed "space" and the second side "time". With loads of totally principled playing in the communal feel, both sides blur the edges warmly.
This record marks not only the first-ever release of the This War of Mine original game soundtrack but also a milestone 10th anniversary of the game. With its bestselling status, cult following among players, educational usefulness and recognition as a poignant symbol of war's threat to human lives-underscored by honours such as the recent Special Award from Amnesty International-it has been a decade of remarkable success. Yet, we cannot truly celebrate while wars continue to claim lives, stripping away humanity with relentless and senseless cruelty. To mourn in silence, however, would be equally futile. Instead, we're once again using This War of Mine as a platform for change through the Forget Celebrations charity DLC, now available for the PC (Steam) version of the game. Composer Piotr Musia? is looking back at the creation process for the music of This War of Mine and points out the significance the soundtrack still has for him: "This War of Mine was one of those projects, where picking up an electric guitar and playing on it felt like a good idea, although I'd never done it before. It gave the music this unpolished character - it's rough around the edges to match the grim atmosphere of the game. Just like its characters, I felt lost at first and it took me a while to figure it all out. For this and many reasons, it was an emotional ride and the music still feels special to me."
Limited edition classic black vinyl mini-album of cathartic slowcore by The Declining Winter, the new vehicle of Richard Adams, formerly of Domino Records post-rockers, Hood. The next release on the acclaimed boutique English independent label, Second Language Music, will be ‘Last April,’ the new mini-album by The Declining Winter, a raw, deeply emotional monument of loss, grief and heartbreak that treads in the footsteps of Red House Painters’ ‘Down Colorful Hill,’ Low’s ‘I Could Live In Hope’ and Songs: Ohia’s ‘Didn’t It Rain.’ This is not a heart-on-your-sleeve record. It does away with the sleeve and goes straight for carving a heart on the arm. Recordings which emerged out of a period of shock, grief and trauma, these six songs were all written on the same night and form a stately tribute to a loved one lost. The Declining Winter strip things back to just Richard Adams’ plaintive voice and acoustic guitar, alongside the beautiful, irrefutably melancholy string arrangements/playing of Sarah Kemp (Brave Timbers). There’s been no attempt to plane off any rough edges – here and there, the creak of a chair, a guitar note missed, a voice almost cracking with emotion – these recordings are like cathartic scrawls in a diary. Only this one has been left out for anyone to read. As with his previous band, Hood, Adams has a way of evoking a particularly pastoral, English melancholy, of lonely morning hikes in inclement weathers, of rain on slate in the West Yorkshire streets where he was raised and still lives.
Over 19 tracks, Wayfaring Strangers: Cosmic American Music mines gold from dollar bin country-rock detritus to reconstruct events as seen from the genre's wild west - Americana's vast private press substructure. As progenitor and contemptuous poster boy for the music that came to be Cosmic American, Gram Parsons found himself mired in a recording career spent mostly in scouting the perimeters of chart success. "He hated country-rock," Parsons collaborator Emmylou Harris would later reflect. "He thought that bands like the Eagles were pretty much missing the point." Parsons had been orbiting the idea of Cosmic American Music for some time. In 1968 he'd parted ways with the Byrds and was looking to take air with a new project. "It's basically a Southern soul group playing country and gospel-oriented music with a steel guitar" he told Melody Maker, on the subject of The Flying Burrito Brothers. So it was that when A&M's Burrito Brothers debut The Gilded Palace of Sin made it to shelves in February of 1969, early adherents to the Cosmic American gospel were already echoing its message from areas flanking Gram Parsons' Southern California hills and canyons. There was F.J. McMahon in coastal Santa Barbara, Mistress Mary further inland in Hacienda Heights, and Plain Jane of Albuquerque, New Mexico, each responding by committing their own private readings to tape before day one of the 1970s. Parsons himself might've disdained them, had he even been aware of such minor ripples, shimmering at the edges of his desert oasis. But these were true believers all the same, given over fully to his roots music concept, each filling vinyl grooves with non-rock instrumentation like fiddle, banjo, and pedal steel guitar, the last undoubtedly Cosmic American Music's most distinguishing stringed signifier. Only too predictably, big labels did the grunt work of confining and defining the movement, as ABC, United Artists, RCA, and more played catch-up with Asylum's raptor rock juggernaut, via backwoods crossover also-rans with names like Gladstone, American Flyer, and Silverado. Twang reigned, the shitkickers kicked shit, and the vaguely western-sounding guitar records piled up. Country-rock became "the dominant American rock style of the 1970s," as Peter Doggett's comprehensive Are You Ready for the Country put it much later. Wayfaring Strangers: Cosmic American Music picks up and dusts off golden ingots from the dollar-bin detritus of that domination, to reconstruct events as seen from the genre's real Wild West-America's one-off private press label substructure.
Here, gleaming tensile techno forms clean, straight lines while scratchy acoustic guitars scuff up edges to produce
ghostly audio. Poetry is snatched from the overhead, removed from the overheard; words borrowed from the ether are
spun into dizzying new shapes, sometimes reappearing in new settings, twisted back to front, side to side. Each track a
very different room - some soundtracked by little more than metronomic kick drum and robotic voice, others deep in
layer upon layer of melody and euphoric noise - and each room unmistakably, uniquely Underworld. The only advice
from Underworld’s Rick Smith and Karl Hyde upon entering: “Please don’t shuffle.”
Strawberry Hotel features the singles ‘and the colour red’ and ‘denver luna’, as well as new release ‘Black Poppies’ - a
celestial love song, a hymn to the universe and to boundless, positive change. Ambient and beatless, Black Poppies is
a celebration of full dancefloors and the beauty of life itself.
Underworld are Rick Smith and Karl Hyde. Their peerless first album - dubnobasswithmyheadman - was released to universal acclaim in 1994. In the thirty years since that mould breaking debut, the band have established their reputation as one of the most groundbreaking and important electronic acts of all time, one that constantly pushes creative boundaries, twists genres, and refuses to stay still. In those thirty years, their music has soundtracked approximately 100,000,000 nights out, and the mornings after. In the past year alone, Underworld have played live in front of over half a million people across the globe.
Described by Steve Lamacq as “so elegant and haunted, in an almost gothic way, but with that bass momentum of proper post-punk”. This is the debut album from bloody/bath. 10 tracks inspired by the unsettling sounds of horror soundtracks, early 2000’s indie rock guitar lines and mental illness, ‘In An Empty Space, I’m Screaming’ is as anthemic and cathartic as it is eerie. Produced by Matt Peel (Yard Act, WH Lung, Dream Wife, Divorce, Eagulls), the record is dissonant post-punk filtered through a myriad of sonic palettes. Lead single ‘Suffering’ evokes catchy indie rock while opener ‘Strangling of the Dog’ finds itself firmly in the harsher edges of the genre. The album also features ‘Idle Hands’ which was championed by Iggy Pop and played on BBC Radio 6Music by Iggy, Steve Lamacq and Lauren Laverne. This limited edition vinyl on translucent red with black smoke marble is limited to only 100 distro copies. Link to Soundcloud tracks - ‘Strangling of the Dog’, ‘Heather’ and ‘Unholy Cross II’
Chita, the third album proper by Japanese guitar pop trio Usurabi, is their most elegant, stylish confection yet. Over the past four years, Toshimitsu Akiko (vocals, guitar), Kawaguchi Masami (bass) and Morohashi Shigeki (drums) have been recording, playing live, and releasing songs of rare melodic warmth, centring Toshimitsu’s unique musical vision, where melancholy and joy can co-exist, a split-second flick of her wrist switchblading the guitar from languorous sweetness to overloaded rock action.
Chita expands on the smartly sculpted pop and rock songs found on their previous albums, Remains Of The Light (2021) and Outside Of The World (2023), while infusing the music with more of the rough- housing energy that also coursed through the live CD, Once In A Red Room, they self-released in January 2024. There’s still a through-line, of course, that connects the music here to Toshimitsu’s earlier groups, Doodles and Animone, but Chita feels more deeply like a sussed, sharp take on the crumbling edges of sixties psychedelic folk and rock: the harmonica that blasts through the opener, “Bansho”, is pure Dylan in effect.
One of the many smart things about Usurabi, though, is that they never feel beholden to the historical moment. Soon after “Bansho”, we encounter “TurnOff”, a lush pop song that turns on a dime, with Toshimitsu tearing fuzztone notes from six strings that are like a more folk-reverent Kaneko Jutok. And there’s something about the guitar and bass riff that doubles through the thrilling two-and-a-half minutes of “Hakanonaka” that’s a dead ringer for the Only Ones. Flip the record, and things get more expansive, the spindly jangling of the title song spiralling ever inwards, before the sweet, sugary rush of “Kanata” resolves to the martial rhythms that pulse through “Aseranai”, winding the album down to its poetic, becalmed resolution.
Sasu Ripatti presents the fourth volume in his "Dancefloor Classics" series with five 10" releases coming throughout 2023. Music for imaginary dancefloors, released on Ripatti's own label "Rajaton".
”Look up, into the light” she said, while the camera shutter clicked. ”Like this? Does it look holy?” His neck felt stiff. Her reply: ”Yes, just like that. What do you mean holy? Like religious? ”No, more like trying to look very far, somewhere beyond what we can see.” ”Okay, stand still, I’m going to come close to you now. The light hits your face great.” click, click, click.
He noticed her fingernails. They were not polished. Natural. Even somewhat rugged, as if something wore out the fingers slightly. What had these hands held besides the camera? What made the edges of her fingernails drift off?
He thought it’s weird to look straight into the camera. The photographer had closed her left eye, the one not looking into the lens. Then it opened, she looked up, perusing the surroundings, then she closed her eye again, then looked up, closed, looking up, very quickly. It all seemed very professional. Maybe she calculated the light, making sure it’s close to perfect. ”What will these photos look like?” – the thought popped into his head briefly. It was liberating to think it wouldn’t matter.
”What’s that song playing?” he asked. ”Wait a sec, Ol’ Dirty Bastard?” she replied. ”Oh yeah, right. But the sample?” ”Hey, could you look up again, like that. No, lower.”
New directions: ”Look out from the window, turn left.” ”My left or yours?” ”Yours, I always try to think from the direction of my model.” How professional! This is a good shoot, so natural. Should I worry about how the photos look like? No, I don’t want to. His thoughts bounced around. What would the story be like? It’s a big newspaper, everyone will read it. Maybe someone drinks coffee and eats a stroopwafel while they do it. Will they place the waffle on top of the mug for a brief while, so that it gets hot and the syrup melts a little? Then it feels wet, and you can bend the cookie.
She broke his train of thought off midway through: ”Now turn right, but look left, and slightly up, but don’t turn your face right.” ”Umm, like this? Sounds like a set of pilates instructions.” she laughed ”You do pilates?” ”Yeah, it’s hard sometimes. Have you tried?” ”No”, she said. ”I’m not good for sports that are done in groups.” ”Yeah, but in pilates you can just be inside your mind, drowning in your private thoughts.”
”What are you thinking in pilates?” she asked, taking more photos. ”Well, mostly just which way is right. And which left.” click, click.
Q&A with Sasu Ripatti:
1) Tell us something about the EP series ”Dancefloor Classics”, what’s the idea and what can we expect?
I’ve been slowly writing these sort of dance music pieces and finally curated them together for a conceptual release. I like to create music for a dancefloor that exists only in my imagination and doesn’t try to suck up to the standardized reality.
2) Your vinyl format is 10” which is quite special (as opposed to LP / 12”). Why did you choose it?
It’s my favourite format, absolutely. The size is perfect, and you can make it sound really good @ 45 rpm. And you still can make great artwork.
3) You seem interested in sampling/repurposing, what does it mean to you as an artist to approach something already existing from a new angle? How does the source material inform you about the approach to take?
I guess i could flip it around and just say I’ve outgrown synths or electronic sounds to a great extend, and having gotten rid off all my synths already good while ago I’ve used samples as my main source material a lot. It’s obvious on this series that i’ve sampled existing music, but I also sample instruments and things in the studio and resample my own library that I have built over the years, it’s quite large. To me the end result matters, not so much how I get there. Once I have something on my keyboard and play around, it’s all an instrument, though with sampling other music it becomes a really interesting and complex one as you’re possibly playing rhythm, but also harmonic content and maybe hooks or whatever, all at once.
I never sample premeditadedly, like listening to records and looking for that mindblowing 3 sec part. I just throw the cards in the air and see what lands where, just full intuition and hopefully zero mind involved, playing tons of stuff, trying things, just recording hours of stuff. Then comes the interesting part to listen to hours of mostly crazy stuff and finding that mindblowing 3 sec part.
4) What is your relationship with the dancefloor (conceptually and/or in experiences / as a performer)?
Very complicated. I have never really felt comfortable on a dancefloor but have always wanted to. There’s something in club music, in theory, that really speaks to me. It has never really materialized for me – speaking mainly from a performer’s point of view who goes to check on a dancefloor for a moment after a concert. I never have DJ’d or felt much interest towards it. But again, I love the idea and concept of DJing. As well as producing music for imaginary DJs. Lately, as in the past 10+ years, I haven’t even performed in any sort of club spaces. So my relationship to the dancefloor is quite removed and reduced, but there’s quite a bit of passion and interest left.
All tracks composed and produced by Sasu Ripatti.
Artwork & photography by Marc Hohmann.
Mastering by Stephan Mathieu for Schwebung Mastering.
Vinyl cut by SST Brueggemann.
Publishing by WARP Music Ltd.
Balancing glitch-pop and contemporary piano, the Belgian pianist explores the edges of her voice, language and twisted electronica
The Belgian pianist and producer maya dhondt releases a new album titled 'wow, x', marking her debut solo album under her own name. Navigating between bedroom glitch-pop and contemporary piano, she presents sounds of alienating beauty.
The album ‘wow, x’ will be released on September 13 on vinyl and all digital platforms via VIERNULVIER Records.
“I find beauty in the uncomfortable and disorienting" - maya dhont
The first single, 'desire,' is a mutated synth-pop track that gets under the skin. The song centralizes longing for something you don't know (yet). Perhaps it's the smell of damp earth, which can be both pleasant and unsettling? The single is now available on all streaming platforms and comes with a schizophrenic video by Sakis Brönnimann.
The first release show is scheduled for Saturday, October 5, at De Koer, Ghent.
More shows will be announced soon.
A postmodern cramp, that's how one could describe the music of pianist and producer maya dhondt. Her music is an intuitive and a never ending exploration that has the potential to be and become a multitude of things at once.
On her first solo album under her own name, 'wow, x,' she presents 10 varied tracks in which she creates equally idiosyncratic sound worlds. She takes the liberty to endlessly experiment with vocals, piano, and a mix of distorted lo-fi electronic sounds with an open mind. The result is sometimes synthetic and weird, sometimes compellingly beautiful, and always captivating, drawing you into its underlying melody. These intelligently crafted productions are connected by a penchant for alienating beauty: like a warm, but damp cave where it’s pleasant to linger just a little longer. Her original sound moves within a sonic spectrum reminiscent of contemporary artists such as Lolina, Astrid Sonne, claire rousay, aya or Carla Dal Forno.
"What I create never stands alone, it can be many things at once"
If the world were a sculpture garden, maya dhondt eagerly picks from it to draw inspiration from both visual and literary passages as well as personal experiences. Her highly personal bedroom productions are grounded firmly in the world due to philosophical references and politically charged messages. And the world she lives in is being questioned on 'wow, x', as the title refers to "What Or Why?". This is evident in the single 'desire': "What is the thing that matters / to exist / or to know you’re existing?" What does one choose in life: to live in the moment or to live to remember that moment?
In the lyrics on 'wow, x', maya dhondt plays - at times childishly - with language and its boundaries. On 'tip toe tip,' banal wordplay leads to an unexpected confession, and the seemingly simple phrases in 'untitled' conceal hidden life lessons. dhondt's world of words is multilayered and multilingual: Dutch ('kleine cijfers, groot verlies'), English ('desire'), and French ('untitled') are at her disposal. And on the fierce track that is 'minimalinvasiv,' not only she turns to hardstyle, but also to German - a language dear to her due to her Swiss heritage.
Patterns / Threshold, a collaborative split offering from Mesure Divide and Esse Ran, plunges the listener into a disquieting expanse of undulating rhythms and transmuted textures. Here, melodies and harmonies dissolve, fracturing into a heavy, systolic throb that whispers of superposition and entanglement.
Lush synthesizers shimmer with a noetic luminescence, their tones arching and bowing alongside relentless cyclical beats and sloshing electronics. Refractions of rave culture thrumming in stillness, their ecstatic energy dissipating into a radiant hum - a melancholic undercurrent born from the tension between fleeting exuberance and enduring inanition. This is a realm of heady paradox, where rigid structure and fluid intuition converge.
The artists navigate this liminal space with masterful precision, guiding the listener through a landscape of aural oscillations. Perception teeters on the edge of the concrete and the ephemeral; perception dissolves; reality grows soft at the edges.
Patterns / Threshold will be released on physical vinyl records and bandcamp only. No streaming, no bullshit.
Perc Trax hits 100 releases with Perc returning with his first album in seven years. 'The Cut Off' is Perc's fourth album following 'Wicker & Steel' (2011), 'The Power & The Glory' (2014) and Perc Trax's best ever selling release 'Bitter Music' (2017).
'The Cut Off' see's Perc deliver his most dance floor focused album to date, serving up enough energy to keep contemporary dance floors moving, whilst avoiding both the cliched 90's throwback hard techno formula that is dominant right now and the stuckist 'real techno' blueprints that are still endlessly regurgitated having been established over 30 years ago.
Across the album Perc's well established industrial credentials collide with giant sized synth riffs, driving acid lines (a first for a Perc album) and all manner of drones, choral performances, urban textures and even a dentist's drill (on 'Static'). Gliding arpeggios and slow moving melodic lines feature more on this album than ever before without dulling the sharp edges of Perc's music.
'The Cut Off' more than any previous Perc long player is an album that focuses on the club, the dancer and the dance floor. Yes, there are moments of respite between the classic Perc percussive workouts, but they are far outnumbered by the varied collection of club tracks that come at the listener from every angle.
Collaborations include Sissel Wincent, a regular collaborator with Peder Mannerfelt. Perc remixed Peder & Sissel's 'Sissel &Bass' track to great effect in 2019 and now Sissel returns the favour appearing on 'Static', the album's only full vocal track. Also collaborating with Perc is EAS, one of America's fastest rising techno artists who delivers the raw acid lines that power album highlight 'Cold Snap'. Finally London based metal vocalist Leandro Bastos adds his abrasive vocal tones to 'Imperial Leather', the first single to be taken from 'The Cut Off'.
The 'Cut Off' was recorded in Perc's own studio and mixed by Perc at Map Studios in London. The album was mastered by Matt Colton at Metropolis Studios. Album design was handled by Lucas Grassmay, who previously worked on I Hate Models' debut album on Perc Trax in 2019. The album will be supported a run of dates around the world where Perc will be performing a special live set based around the album as well as his infamous DJ sets.
What Do We Do Now is the fifth solo studio LP recorded by J Mascis since 1996. This is obviously not a very aggressive release schedule, but when you figure in the live albums, guest spots, and records done with his various other bands (Dinosaur Jr., The Fog, Heavy Blanket, Witch, Sweet Apple, and so on), well, to paraphrase Lou Reed, "J's week beats your year." What Do We Do Now began to come together during the waning days of the Pandemic. Utilizing his own Bisquiteen Studio, J started working on writing a series of tunes on acoustic with a different dynamic than the stuff he creates for Dino. "When I'm writing for the band," he says, "I'm always trying to think of doing things Lou and Murph would fit into. For myself, I'm thinking more about what I can do with just an acoustic guitar, even for the leads. Of course, this time, I added full drums and electric leads, although the rhythm parts are still all acoustic. Usually, I try to do the solo stuff more simply so I can play it by myself, but I really wanted to add the drums. Once that started, everything else just fell into place. So it ended up sounding a lot more like a band record. I dunno why I did that exactly, but it's just what happened." Two guest musicians are playing this time out; Western Mass local Ken Mauri (of the B52s) plays piano on several tracks. Since J himself has some experience with keys, when asked why he needed a hired gun, he says, "Ken is great, and he plays all the keys. I tried playing some keyboards on the first Fog album, but I'm really only comfortable playing the white notes, so it's kind of limiting. laughs Nowadays, I could just turn the pitch on a mini Mellotron to play different sounds, but black keys just seem hard. For whatever reason, I just like banging on the white ones. Seems like it's harder to figure out how to stretch your fingers around the other ones." Mauri has no such qualms and plays all the keys very damn well. He sounds especially great on "I Can't Find You," where he is Jack Nitzsche to J's Neil Young, creating one of the album's loveliest tunes. The other guest musician, Matthew "Doc" Dunn, is also prominent on this track. Dunn's steel guitar manages to both widen and soften the musical edges of the music, giving it a full classicist profile. Dunn is an Ontario-based polymath who J met through Matt Valentine. After J played on Doc's great 2022 Sub Pop single, "Your Feel," he figured it was time for payback. Both Dunn and Mauri add beautifully to the songs here, helping to transform them from acoustic sketches into full-blown post-core power ballads. What Do We Do Now is the finest set of solo tunes J has yet penned, and the way they're presented is just about perfect. Asked if he would be touring to support the album, J says he'll be doing some weekend dates, but he probably won't be putting a band together. And I'm sure these songs will sound great solo and acoustic, but the arrangements on this album are truly great and put a cool, different spin on Mascis' instantly Recognizable approach to making music. So, what do we do now? Not sure. But apparently, what J does is to make one of his most killer records ever. Hats off to him. - Byron Coley
For a few years Leo Robinson was the sort of hidden secret you sometimes come across in local music scenes. First in Manchester and now in Glasgow, he’d pop up regularly on DIY bills or as local support to a touring act, quietly blowing them off stage with his rich baritone vocal and homespun lo-fi tales of folklore and animism. With The Temple – his debut on PRAH Recordings – he looks set to cross over from being a cult concern.
“There's a spectrum within the album between fully mythologising or symbolising my lived experience, and just stating it in very matter of fact terms - that push and pull between the need to abstract and the need to break through the abstraction and have an honest moment with oneself” he explains. “This is one of the themes of the album as well as part of the process. The aim was to take all these anecdotal or symbolic elements and merge them into one narrative and one world, in a way that you can find your way through the record as if it were a landscape or language with its own logic.”
The record takes on a pastoral, slightly baroque nature that Robinson partly attributes to a friend screening a lot of ‘70s BBC material in his book shop that they used to hang out at. There are also elements of jazz, flickering to life in “The Spring”’s piano-led finale and coda.
Thematically, Robinson likens it to a Jungian ‘Hero's Journey’, his voice possessing a character who goes through several defined stages of consciousness. From conception and the beginning of an earthly life, the first half of the album recognises the development of the protagonist’s narrative and identity, before “The Pink Light”’s freeform departure from the hitherto more song-based suite devastatingly shatters this. The second half of the album then sees the protagonist witness “the uncontainable” water; learning that true divinity lies not in the individual self or lofty notions of gods and temples, but in the unremarkable nettles, insects and dogs on the roadside riverbank - referenced on tracks “The Cormorant” and “The Spring”.
Although now residing north of the border, The Temple was written while Robinson was finding his feet in Manchester, having moved there to go to art school as a teenager (as a visual artist, he has exhibited at the Tiwani Contemporary in London and Cardiff’s Chapter Arts Centre). As a result, many of the tracks bear out the shadows of his experiences in the northern city – at their most visible and explicit on the beautifully fragile storytelling of “The Pavement”. Written the day after the Manchester Arena Bombings, it recalls Robinson waking up to go to work on a hot summer’s day to discover that his street had been blocked off for terrorism investigations; it then progresses through the rest of his day, amidst the grimly surreal aftermath of the previous night.
Having written the chords, melodies and lyrics to the album, Robinson fleshed out the tunes by scoring out parts for the additional instrumentation, but it was only when a friend sent a demo to PRAH that he was able to fund its full recording. Guitars, vocals, piano and French Horn (the latter recorded by Lauren Reeve-Rawlings) were put down at Green Door Studios in Glasgow. Microphones were placed around the room and the sound of the musicians stepping on creaky floorboards and opening creaky doors were left audible to further the record’s live feel. The harpsichord heard on “The Serpent”, meanwhile, came from University of Glasgow lecturer David McGuinness. Strings were then recorded at PRAH Studios by Francesca Ter-Berg and Raven Bush, the Social Singing Choir adding their choral vocals to “Temple II”.
The result is an album that feels both luscious and yet intimately raw; as grand as Richard Dawson at his most panoramic but containing the rough edges and skeletal looseness of a Calvin Johnson work. At times Robinson lyrically moves towards the surreal, but ultimately this is a record grounded in reality; a true showcase of Robinson’s skill as a lyricist and songwriter.
French pianist Dorian Dumont is an exceptionally gifted, Brussels-based jazzman and member of electronic experimentalists, ECHT! In 2021, he released his debut solo album 'APHEXionS' - a challenging exercise of solo piano focussed entirely on the music of one of the most influential and important artists in contemporary electronic music, Richard James, aka Aphex Twin. Dumont's sophomore album, 'to the APhEX', released 23rd February via W.E.R.F. Records, continues that fascination with his musical hero and acts as a musical love letter of sorts - a groundbreaking experience, where the enchanting world of classical piano collides with the electronic brilliance of Aphex Twin. Richard James' music serves as a starting point for Dumont's musical developments which are sometimes composed and often improvised, letting him find his playing field around the concepts and the poetics of the genius of electro music. Contrary to what one would expect, there are no electronics involved but Dumont carefully transcribes a wide selection of Aphex Twin's music to the grand piano, giving the songs a whole new dimension. Dumont starts from the melody lines and rhythmic structures found in the original tracks but builds on them, deconstructing pieces and adding his own improvisations. Lovingly recreated, the songs take on a completely new dimension, and it exposes both the genius and musicality of Aphex Twin and Dumont himself. "Aphex Twin is a fascinating artist and character. At first, I started transcribing his pieces just to understand them. I then sat on my acoustic piano for the pleasure of hearing these pieces that I loved so much only to realize that in the end I was improvising, I was playing. In short: I was having fun. That's how this project was born: through pleasure and games. The challenge then was to develop the concept of this project to find my own playground and my own responses around the musical principles of Mr. Richard James, in order to make this project a celebration on my own terms."
Always curious about new sounds and cultivating eclecticism, 'to the APhEX' stays truthful to the minimalistic aesthetics from the original tracks. From the unruly, emotionally stirring '180db_ 130' to the simple beauty of 'Windowlicker', Dumont is part of a new generation of musicians who have no intention of sticking to the rules. Dumont dances across the keys, perfectly capturing the mood and feeling of Aphex Twin, where classical meets electronic. Elsewhere, 'PAPAT4 155[pineal mix]' is stripped to the core showcasing Dumont's ingenuity, while 'Avril 14th' and album finale '#3 (Rhubarb)', unfolds with delicate piano, evoking a sense of tranquil introspection.
Born in Montpellier where he studied classical piano at the Conservatory, in 2005, Dumont achieved the highest distinctions in piano and chamber music. With a broadening interest in jazz and improvised music, he moved to Brussels in 2008 and after studying in the Jazz sections at the Royal Conservatory of Brussels then at the Koninklijk Conservatorium van Brussel, he obtained his master's degree in 2013. In recent years, he has played an integral part of the critically acclaimed four-piece 'ECHT!' which breaks the boundaries between jazz, electronic music and hip-hop. In addition, Dumont also participates in numerous other projects across various genres including 'Edges' with Guillaume Vierset, Jim Black, and Anders Christensen or 'Easy Pieces' with Ben Sauzereau and Hendrik Lasure. He also collaborates with bands including Juicy, Vaague, Kuna Maze, and Pol Belardi's Force, among others.
[a] A1. 180db_ [130]
[d] A4. PAPAT4 [155][pineal mix]
Three years on from the desolate beauty of their debut, Quindi Records is proud to present the second album from Dead Bandit. The ghosts of their past endeavours still haunt their guitars, but on Memory Thirteen the duo's delicately dishevelled Southern gothic feels tonally distinct from their prior outing.
Dead Bandit is Ellis Swan and James Schimpl - the former a noted solo singer-songwriter from Chicago with a penchant for eerie, witching hour murder ballads and the latter an accomplished Canadian multi-instrumentalist with a bias towards heartworn, roaming soundscapes. Their instrumental collaboration has an open, lyrical quality which says as much as any spoken line, and on this album they've especially embraced the power of contrast as we're guided between scenes, sometimes within the confines of one track.
'Peel Me An Orange' is especially instructive in this regard, beginning as a blown-out paean to sonic degradation and the acute sense of hopelessness it projects, only to yield to a lilting tape loop of twanging guitar before entirely widening out in an emphatic burst of post-rock optimism.
Post-rock isn't noted for its banal cheeriness as a genre, and Dead Bandit aren't about to lay down feel-good drive-time anthems, but the sense of pulling at extremes of energy and introspection show Swan and Schimpl to be testing the emotional limits of their weatherbeaten sound. The cautiously sentimental mood of 'Blowing Kisses' hints at the hard-won light which can be encountered while pointedly driving into darkness.
Sometimes noise is a subtle device - a looming bed of unease under the forthright pluck of Swan's distinct guitar tone or the cracking round the edges of a beaten up drum machine. On 'Memory Thirteen' the distortion on the bass becomes a central figure in its haggard waltz, while 'Staircase' and 'Perfume' leave the signal wet until the delay feedback becomes the body of the riff. Either way, the sound is never left untouched as Swan and Schimpl grow more comfortable in their exchange, blurring their respective sonic languages as they expand their shared vocabulary to create an album of depth, difference and devoted distortion.
What Do We Do Now is the fifth solo studio LP recorded by J Mascis since 1996. This is obviously not a very aggressive release schedule, but when you figure in the live albums, guest spots, and records done with his various other bands (Dinosaur Jr., The Fog, Heavy Blanket, Witch, Sweet Apple, and so on), well, to paraphrase Lou Reed, "J's week beats your year." What Do We Do Now began to come together during the waning days of the Pandemic. Utilizing his own Bisquiteen Studio, J started working on writing a series of tunes on acoustic with a different dynamic than the stuff he creates for Dino. "When I'm writing for the band," he says, "I'm always trying to think of doing things Lou and Murph would fit into. For myself, I'm thinking more about what I can do with just an acoustic guitar, even for the leads. Of course, this time, I added full drums and electric leads, although the rhythm parts are still all acoustic. Usually, I try to do the solo stuff more simply so I can play it by myself, but I really wanted to add the drums. Once that started, everything else just fell into place. So it ended up sounding a lot more like a band record. I dunno why I did that exactly, but it's just what happened." Two guest musicians are playing this time out; Western Mass local Ken Mauri (of the B52s) plays piano on several tracks. Since J himself has some experience with keys, when asked why he needed a hired gun, he says, "Ken is great, and he plays all the keys. I tried playing some keyboards on the first Fog album, but I'm really only comfortable playing the white notes, so it's kind of limiting. laughs Nowadays, I could just turn the pitch on a mini Mellotron to play different sounds, but black keys just seem hard. For whatever reason, I just like banging on the white ones. Seems like it's harder to figure out how to stretch your fingers around the other ones." Mauri has no such qualms and plays all the keys very damn well. He sounds especially great on "I Can't Find You," where he is Jack Nitzsche to J's Neil Young, creating one of the album's loveliest tunes. The other guest musician, Matthew "Doc" Dunn, is also prominent on this track. Dunn's steel guitar manages to both widen and soften the musical edges of the music, giving it a full classicist profile. Dunn is an Ontario-based polymath who J met through Matt Valentine. After J played on Doc's great 2022 Sub Pop single, "Your Feel," he figured it was time for payback. Both Dunn and Mauri add beautifully to the songs here, helping to transform them from acoustic sketches into full-blown post-core power ballads. What Do We Do Now is the finest set of solo tunes J has yet penned, and the way they're presented is just about perfect. Asked if he would be touring to support the album, J says he'll be doing some weekend dates, but he probably won't be putting a band together. And I'm sure these songs will sound great solo and acoustic, but the arrangements on this album are truly great and put a cool, different spin on Mascis' instantly Recognizable approach to making music. So, what do we do now? Not sure. But apparently, what J does is to make one of his most killer records ever. Hats off to him. - Byron Coley
What Do We Do Now is the fifth solo studio LP recorded by J Mascis since 1996. This is obviously not a very aggressive release schedule, but when you figure in the live albums, guest spots, and records done with his various other bands (Dinosaur Jr., The Fog, Heavy Blanket, Witch, Sweet Apple, and so on), well, to paraphrase Lou Reed, "J's week beats your year." What Do We Do Now began to come together during the waning days of the Pandemic. Utilizing his own Bisquiteen Studio, J started working on writing a series of tunes on acoustic with a different dynamic than the stuff he creates for Dino. "When I'm writing for the band," he says, "I'm always trying to think of doing things Lou and Murph would fit into. For myself, I'm thinking more about what I can do with just an acoustic guitar, even for the leads. Of course, this time, I added full drums and electric leads, although the rhythm parts are still all acoustic. Usually, I try to do the solo stuff more simply so I can play it by myself, but I really wanted to add the drums. Once that started, everything else just fell into place. So it ended up sounding a lot more like a band record. I dunno why I did that exactly, but it's just what happened." Two guest musicians are playing this time out; Western Mass local Ken Mauri (of the B52s) plays piano on several tracks. Since J himself has some experience with keys, when asked why he needed a hired gun, he says, "Ken is great, and he plays all the keys. I tried playing some keyboards on the first Fog album, but I'm really only comfortable playing the white notes, so it's kind of limiting. laughs Nowadays, I could just turn the pitch on a mini Mellotron to play different sounds, but black keys just seem hard. For whatever reason, I just like banging on the white ones. Seems like it's harder to figure out how to stretch your fingers around the other ones." Mauri has no such qualms and plays all the keys very damn well. He sounds especially great on "I Can't Find You," where he is Jack Nitzsche to J's Neil Young, creating one of the album's loveliest tunes. The other guest musician, Matthew "Doc" Dunn, is also prominent on this track. Dunn's steel guitar manages to both widen and soften the musical edges of the music, giving it a full classicist profile. Dunn is an Ontario-based polymath who J met through Matt Valentine. After J played on Doc's great 2022 Sub Pop single, "Your Feel," he figured it was time for payback. Both Dunn and Mauri add beautifully to the songs here, helping to transform them from acoustic sketches into full-blown post-core power ballads. What Do We Do Now is the finest set of solo tunes J has yet penned, and the way they're presented is just about perfect. Asked if he would be touring to support the album, J says he'll be doing some weekend dates, but he probably won't be putting a band together. And I'm sure these songs will sound great solo and acoustic, but the arrangements on this album are truly great and put a cool, different spin on Mascis' instantly Recognizable approach to making music. So, what do we do now? Not sure. But apparently, what J does is to make one of his most killer records ever. Hats off to him. - Byron Coley
Sasu Ripatti's complete "Dancefloor Classics" series. Music for imaginary dancefloors, released on Ripatti's own label Rajaton.
”Look up, into the light” she said, while the camera shutter clicked. ”Like this? Does it look holy?” His neck felt stiff. Her reply: ”Yes, just like that. What do you mean holy? Like religious? ”No, more like trying to look very far, somewhere beyond what we can see.” ”Okay, stand still, I’m going to come close to you now. The light hits your face great.” click, click, click.
He noticed her fingernails. They were not polished. Natural. Even somewhat rugged, as if something wore out the fingers slightly. What had these hands held besides the camera? What made the edges of her fingernails drift off?
He thought it’s weird to look straight into the camera. The photographer had closed her left eye, the one not looking into the lens. Then it opened, she looked up, perusing the surroundings, then she closed her eye again, then looked up, closed, looking up, very quickly. It all seemed very professional. Maybe she calculated the light, making sure it’s close to perfect. ”What will these photos look like?” – the thought popped into his head briefly. It was liberating to think it wouldn’t matter.
”What’s that song playing?” he asked. ”Wait a sec, Ol’ Dirty Bastard?” she replied. ”Oh yeah, right. But the sample?” ”Hey, could you look up again, like that. No, lower.”
New directions: ”Look out from the window, turn left.” ”My left or yours?” ”Yours, I always try to think from the direction of my model.” How professional! This is a good shoot, so natural. Should I worry about how the photos look like? No, I don’t want to. His thoughts bounced around. What would the story be like? It’s a big newspaper, everyone will read it. Maybe someone drinks coffee and eats a stroopwafel while they do it. Will they place the waffle on top of the mug for a brief while, so that it gets hot and the syrup melts a little? Then it feels wet, and you can bend the cookie.
She broke his train of thought off midway through: ”Now turn right, but look left, and slightly up, but don’t turn your face right.” ”Umm, like this? Sounds like a set of pilates instructions.” she laughed ”You do pilates?” ”Yeah, it’s hard sometimes. Have you tried?” ”No”, she said. ”I’m not good for sports that are done in groups.” ”Yeah, but in pilates you can just be inside your mind, drowning in your private thoughts.”
”What are you thinking in pilates?” she asked, taking more photos. ”Well, mostly just which way is right. And which left.” click, click.
Q&A with Sasu Ripatti:
1) Tell us something about the EP series ”Dancefloor Classics”, what’s the idea and what can we expect?
I’ve been slowly writing these sort of dance music pieces and finally curated them together for a conceptual release. I like to create music for a dancefloor that exists only in my imagination and doesn’t try to suck up to the standardized reality.
2) Your vinyl format is 10” which is quite special (as opposed to LP / 12”). Why did you choose it?
It’s my favourite format, absolutely. The size is perfect, and you can make it sound really good @ 45 rpm. And you still can make great artwork.
3) You seem interested in sampling/repurposing, what does it mean to you as an artist to approach something already existing from a new angle? How does the source material inform you about the approach to take?
I guess i could flip it around and just say I’ve outgrown synths or electronic sounds to a great extend, and having gotten rid off all my synths already good while ago I’ve used samples as my main source material a lot. It’s obvious on this series that i’ve sampled existing music, but I also sample instruments and things in the studio and resample my own library that I have built over the years, it’s quite large. To me the end result matters, not so much how I get there. Once I have something on my keyboard and play around, it’s all an instrument, though with sampling other music it becomes a really interesting and complex one as you’re possibly playing rhythm, but also harmonic content and maybe hooks or whatever, all at once.
I never sample premeditadedly, like listening to records and looking for that mindblowing 3 sec part. I just throw the cards in the air and see what lands where, just full intuition and hopefully zero mind involved, playing tons of stuff, trying things, just recording hours of stuff. Then comes the interesting part to listen to hours of mostly crazy stuff and finding that mindblowing 3 sec part.
4) What is your relationship with the dancefloor (conceptually and/or in experiences / as a performer)?
Very complicated. I have never really felt comfortable on a dancefloor but have always wanted to. There’s something in club music, in theory, that really speaks to me. It has never really materialized for me – speaking mainly from a performer’s point of view who goes to check on a dancefloor for a moment after a concert. I never have DJ’d or felt much interest towards it. But again, I love the idea and concept of DJing. As well as producing music for imaginary DJs. Lately, as in the past 10+ years, I haven’t even performed in any sort of club spaces. So my relationship to the dancefloor is quite removed and reduced, but there’s quite a bit of passion and interest left.
All tracks composed and produced by Sasu Ripatti.
Artwork & photography by Marc Hohmann.
Mastering by Stephan Mathieu for Schwebung Mastering.
Vinyl cut by SST Brueggemann.
Publishing by WARP Music Ltd.
Black Vinyl[21,13 €]
Bathed in a green haze, the crowd oozed to the mutant rock and roll roaring from the basement's dusty depths — everything and everyone was sweaty and sticky. But as Speedy Ortiz crammed into the back corner, their grins just inches away from ours, D.C.’s Dougout became a moshed-and-sloshed sauna of 20-somethings delirious on rock euphoria.
After spending much of the new millennium bored out of my skull by network soap indie, Speedy Ortiz — not to mention its pals in Pile, Ovlov, Grass is Green and the rest of New England’s burgeoning basement scene — was rock's wild howl. The songs were unpredictable, yet weirdly memorable, swaggering with a winky and wry sense of self. Riffs would twist with a topsy tenderness, then slam a ruptured discord. Sadie Dupuis' sphinxian-yet-sensitive lyrics were not only matched but accentuated by her coil-sprung vibrato. How could Speedy Ortiz not immediately become my new favorite band?
What began as a short-lived solo project recorded in Dupuis' off-hours as a rock camp counselor became a four-piece band in Northampton, Mass., by the end of 2011: Dupuis on guitar and vocals with drummer Mike Falcone, bassist Darl Ferm and guitarist Matt Robidoux. They made cool mixtapes, cracked inside jokes and gushed about teenagers that opened for them on tour. They freaked out (via LiveJournal) when they met the bassist from Polvo or Helium's Mary Timony, but also rolled their eyes at '90s indie-rock comparisons. The band's first single — the gender-bending got-laid grunge yowler "Taylor Swift'' — elicited that rare response of the simultaneous giggle and headbang. The Sports EP amped up the taut yet rubbery riffery.
Released July 9, 2013, Major Arcana is filled with wedding chapel exorcisms, oiled-down attractants and criminally twisted puny little villains — this is Dupuis' haunted lexicon as she scales the toxic Aggro Crag of a breakup. And while Dupuis wrote these songs, the band's convulsing arrangements and diverse influences sprawled the squigglier edges of feedbacked fuzz to mete out matters of the heart. Falcone — who, it's worth noting, has a knack for vocal harmony — swung as much as he smashed the drums. In easily tipoverable songs, Ferm's burly bass and percussive overdubs gave the unruly glee its momentum. Robidoux ripped skronky guitar solos and countered Dupuis' riffs with decorative splatter. Over a four-day marathon session at Sonelab in Easthampton, recording engineer Justin Pizzoferrato sparked the studio imagination of Speedy Ortiz — not only leaning into gritty tones but layer-caking dense dynamics that made these songs pop and pulverize.
For all her sweet-toothed seething, Dupuis was not easy on herself. Everyone's allowed the idiot growing pains of your 20s and the misery that follows, but I can only imagine the emotional exhaustion that playing these songs on the road, night after night, must have wrought. "But you left something on my lips: a mark so sick," she repeats over the doomy destruction that ends the album. Thinking back to the many Speedy Ortiz shows I caught in those early years, including an unofficial after-after party for my own wedding, "MKVI" often served as the noisy down-and-out closer — heads would bang in solidarity as the crowd became co-authors in the chaos, the biting phrase now a hex, Speedy Ortiz forever our coven. —Lars Gotrich
To celebrate the 10th Anniversary of Major Arcana, Speedy Ortiz release a remastered edition on Carpark Records.
Formed by Monster Magnet’s John McBain and Soundgarden’s Matt Cameron & Ben Shepherd in 1993 during some downtime from their day jobs and side project Hater (who released a self-titled album in 1993), Wellwater Conspiracy set about immersing themselves in the dayglo world of sixties psychedelia, channelling the vibrations of Syd Barrett’s Pink Floyd and the 13th Floor Elevators to produce the garage lo-fi-lysergic assault on the senses that is their debut album ‘Declaration of Conformity’. Originally issued on Mudhoney’s Steve Turners Super Electro label in 1997, the album was met with critical acclaim upon its release, and Rolling Stone magazine said, “Declaration’s tinny, fuzzed-out sonics decidedly evoke the Summer of Love.” God Unknown Records are proud to be welcoming the album back into print and on all digital platforms, and this coming September 22nd will see the release of a remastered vinyl pressing with extra tracks and new artwork taking influence from Blue Note Records’ fabled artwork. From start to finish, ‘Declaration Of Conformity’ is a loving homage to the true beginnings of psychedelic rock, long before the music got harder and heavier. Songs like ‘Green Undertow’ and ‘Sleeveless’ hark back to the time when The Beatles were spinning the world on its axis with ‘Tomorrow Never Knows’, Syd Barrett was the piper at the gates of dawn and Roky Erickson was introducing the world to his Texan psychedelic sounds. Wellwater Conspiracy’s music exists at that moment when pop music started to fracture and go far further out. It was still pop music, but the edges were starting to blur and the sounds were starting to fracture. This is where ‘Declaration of Conformity’ sits; at the dawn of one of the biggest cultural shifts in musical history. The Bandcamp link will also feature two bonus download-only tracks, a cover of ‘Akka Ragga’ by Shocking Blue and ‘Late Night’ by Syd Barrett. Both tracks feature Josh Homme on guitar and bass. Tracklisting A1 Sleeveless A2 You Do You A3 Trowerchord A4 Green Undertow A5 I Love You Every Day Sandy A6 Nati Bati Yi A7 Far Side Of Your Moon B1 The Ending B2 Space Travel In The Blink Of An Eye B3 6-6-5-4-3-2-1 B4 Shel Talmy B5 Lucy Leave B6 Declaration Of Conformity B7 Palomar Observatory
