quête:other side of space

For Moxy Muzik’s 6th birthday, we’re excited to present Moxy Editions 008—a collection of tracks that perfectly encapsulates the label’s signature sound.

The first track comes from none other than Detroit techno pioneer Stacey Pullen. Darius Syrossian, Moxy's founder, has been a fan of Stacey since the '90s, and this track captures the essence of Moxy’s vibe: techno energy infused with disco and house influences. This track was a peak-time staple in Darius’s sets all summer, igniting dance floors from DC10 and Amnesia to festivals across the UK and Europe. The buzz is palpable, with daily requests flooding in for the track ID whenever a clip surfaces on Darius’s social media.

Next, Darius brings his own twist to Audiojack’s “Get Down,” capturing the spirit of DC10’s late 2000s terrace sound. Tribal percussion, a deep groove, and a massive drop make this remix a dance floor weapon. Videos of this track’s electric energy have surfaced from epic nights at KOKO London, Space Miami, and Solid Grooves DC10, showcasing its undeniable impact.

Kicking off the B side Vincent Caira contributes a refined US house and garage track that’s bound to resonate with purist house heads. This sophisticated production by the Canadian producer is as smooth as it is engaging—a true gem for those who appreciate the finer details of house music.

Rounding out the release is a track by Buckley, the legendary Back to Basics DJ from Leeds. This one’s a tribute to the old-school Todd Terry sound, perfect for fans of classic, raw house beats. If you’re into that vibe, this track is sure to hit the mark.

This collection brings together iconic artists and authentic sounds that will resonate with Moxy’s long-time fans and newcomers alike. Enjoy the journey!

The most famous and highly successful trance compilation worldwide is Talla 2XLC’s Techo Club series that always topped the charts and download shops. After 67 magical episodes in February 2023 Techno Club has celebrated its 25 years anniversary with the ultra large Best of 25 Years 4 CD edition. After 25 magnificent years of DJ battles and exceptional DJ mixes between DJ Talla 2XLC and his brilliant globally known guests including Taucher, Kai Tracid, Tom Wax, Scot Project, Cosmic Gate, Aly & Fila, Jerome Isma-Ae, Alex M.o.r.p.h., Woody van Eyden, Markus Schulz, Allen Watts, Ralphie B, Metta & Glyde amongst many others, trance fans can experience the mouthwatering and highly satisfying recap with the Best of 25 Years shinning edition. Two Mixed CDs perfectly arranged by the trusted hands of Talla 2XLC and the resident Techno Club DJs LXD and Bluefire to keep you dancing 24 hrs and 2 Unmixed CD’s with eternal trance classics for club and radio DJs who wish to educate their audience and incorporate these timeless jewels in their digital collection and DJ sets.

After thousands of requests via Talla 2XLC social media ZYX proudly presents the vinyl edition of Technoclub 25 Years vol.1. In two brilliant vinyls, trance aficionados will enjoy 12 of the most highly requested trance classics from the vaults of the iconic Technoclub compilations.

The 1st vinyl includes the legendary Jam & Spoon Watch Out For Stella Remix of the most significant trance track of all times Age Of Love, then the balearic Ocean To Shore Club mix of the melancholic On The Run by the late legend DJ and producer Tillmann Uhrmacher. Final track in A side the highly energetic Fly Away by Vincent De Moor in the most powerful remix by the German duo Cosmic Gate. On the flip side Jorn van Deynhoven Remixes RAM’s eternal beauty RAMsterdam. The legendary team of Nalin & Kane represented by their remix on Lustral aka Space Brothers blissful and oceanic Everytime. Lastly the well known Sunrise by Ratty aka Scooter side project with the rough tribal main section and the sunkissed feel good breakdown. The 2nd vinyl will bring tears of joy with Talla 2XLC remix on the highly euphoric Sky by Dito. The epic Ronski Speed remix of the countless times remixed trance classic 1998 by Binary Finary and finally the still crowd pleasing Dreams by the Australian Quench. The D side is all about Talla 2XLC productions including his brilliant remake of the fantastic The Meteor, followed by the highly uplifting Xijaro & Pitch remix on Pull, the epic Talla’s co-production with Junk Project. The final track is dedicated to psy-trance community with Zyrus 7 aka Talla 2XLC psy-trance project with the fast moving anthem Lost in Space. The growing fanbase of trance vinyls will adore this great collection of the finest trance anthems from the past, present and future carefully selected by Talla 2XLC and his Technoclub team mates.

Matter-of-factly, Lycox exclaims "Yaaahh" right at the beginning. That's an affirmation but in times of distress it can also mean resignation, something like "Yeah, whatever". Lycox says he was only freestyling though. Then the bassline appears. Elastic, expressive, full-bodied. And it's not even present the whole time. He was "trying to develop a new formula for the Kuduro beat."

Songs for the club? Most certainly. Different sensibilities, one same focused mind. Lycox evolves within tradition, he has mastered the groove, the ambience, the right tones. Simply called "Energia", the last track circles above wistfully, menacing but maybe just promising some sort of action. With a few drops one could almost switch over to a parallel universe of old school Trance, a reference that feels as alien here as maybe this track feels to someone for whom the standard Afro House sound represents modern African music.

These songs pile up in a threshold balanced between styles, sensations, maybe in the middle of life itself. Such a concentration of energy is bound to need release and that comes figuratively through details in the music reaching out to receptive ears. "To Bem Loko" explicitly tries to "literally drive everyone crazy on the dancefloor." Once again Lycox provides vocals, as in "Edson no Uige", about a friend who embarked on a trip to the Angolan province of Uige and came back speaking only the local dialect known as lingala. A nod to tradition, very emotional, without compromising complex arrangements. Consequently, we the listeners are kept believing there is still enough space for a bright future. To ears accustomed to Lycox productions the title "Contemporaneo" (opening of side B) reads like a redundancy, then.

Maybe this music can never be quite as massive as other Afro styles. Without sounding pretentious, it avoids simplistic patterns, it demands a bit more mental processing while it certainly aims to loosen the limbs. Universal in vocation, underground at the core, Lycox definitely calls it Batida but for some it is still Ghetto Music. Like DJ Veiga said when describing a previous release for Príncipe, Ghetto is home, though. Lycox adds it is a foundation of personality. "Few in our community will recognize your work when you come from the same environment, but once you establish your reputation outside of the neighbourhood and even outside of the country, people will look at you differently, as if you were a star."

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

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

The 2015 edition of Winnipeg’s send + receive festival, focussed on rhythm, turned out to be a generative meeting of minds. There, Mark Fell encountered the music of Will Guthrie, a meeting that was eventually to result in the frenetic acoustic drumkit and digital synthesis pairing heard on Infoldings and Diffractions (2020). At the same festival, Limpe Fuchs first heard and appreciated the music of Mark Fell, planting the seed of a collaboration that came to fruition when Fell (along with his son Rian Treanor) visited Fuchs at her home in Peterskirchen, Germany in September 2022. Black Truffle is pleased to announce the release of the results of this extensive session in the audacious form of a triple LP, housing over two hours of music across its six sides. The collaboration might appear unlikely: what common ground could exist between Fuchs, classically trained pianist, legend of improvised music, instrument builder and sound sculptor active since the 1960s, whose group Anima Sound connected the dots between free jazz, krautrock and ritual, and Fell, proponent of radical computer music, known for his bracingly austere productions that twist remnants of club music into algorithmic stutters? For all their seeming disparity in technology, approach and background, the music on Dessogia/Queetch/Fauch makes it immediately evident the pair share a great deal in their essentially percussive approach and ability to, in Fuch’s phrase, ‘establish silence’. Recording at her home studio, Fuchs had the use of her entire array of instruments, found, invented, and traditional, and treats the listener to some that don’t often make their way to concerts, including extensive passages performed (with Gundis Stalleicher) on pieces of wooden parquetry. Alongside metallic, wooden and skin percussion of all kinds, sounded and struck in every conceivable way, we also hear bamboo flute, viola, and Fuchs’ distinctive free-form vocalisations. Fell also stretched himself, with his contributions ranging from characteristically fizzing pitched percussive pops to swarms of sliding tones and abstract digital noise. Showing both remarkable restraint and improvisational freedom, much of the music consists of duets between a single percussion instrument and a distinctive mode of digital sound, often lingering in one timbral-rhythmic space for minutes at a time. Improvisational forward momentum coexists with a free-floating, wandering quality. On opener ‘Dessogia I’, the shimmering almost-gilssandi tones of Fuchs’ enormous set of microtonally tuned metal tubes ripples across Fell’s rubbery pulse, which moves up the frequency spectrum as Fuchs becomes more animated and switches to horn. At some points, as on the metallic chiming tones that open ‘Fauch I’, only the unexpected dynamic behaviour of Fell’s sounds distinguish them from Fuchs’ acoustic instruments. At others, like on ‘Queetch III’, the waves of sliding tones and noise textures are bracingly synthetic, joined by piercing squeaks and scrapes from Fuchs’ metal objects. Epic in scope, immersing the listener in an entirely distinctive world of sounds, and thrillingly bold in its melding of the most ancient musical procedures with cutting edge technologies, Dessogia/Queetch/Fauch is an unexpected major statement from two of the great mavericks of contemporary music.

"Since 2017, Thirdface has intrigued their audiences and peers alike with their raw, intense technicality. The Nashville quartet consisting of drummer Shibby Poole, guitarist David Reichley, bassist Maddy Madeira, and vocalist Kathryn Edwards bring an atypically musical approach to hardcore with release after invigorating release. Thirdface takes the most harrowing elements of punk, grindcore, and death metal and fuses them into a ferocious sound that is quite considerably their own. From their inception, Thirdface has developed consistently, culminating in their new release Ministerial Cafeteria, due through stalwart unconventional rock label Exploding in Sound Records.

Thirdface is decidedly remarkable in their dedication to Nashville DIY. Edwards runs the beloved all ages venue Drkmttr; Poole is a go-to recording engineer for local bands; and all four members have played in various other projects over the years. Within the constellation of Nashville’s DIY scene, Poole, Reichley, and Madeira were already well acquainted with each other’s playing styles through a previous band. Starting as a side project in 2017, the three shifted gears and began leaning toward a more intense sound requiring a vocal presence unburdened by an instrument. Since then, the release of 2021’s self-recorded Do It With A Smile led Thirdface to regional tours with the likes of Touché Amoré and City of Caterpillar.

On Ministerial Cafeteria, Thirdface loosens the reins only a little more than on Do It With A Smile, but the small change makes a profound difference. Thirdface’s onslaught of blasts and D-beats are no less present than ever, but now ‘grooves’ are allowed a little more life, stretching for an extra measure or for a full repetition before they’re snatched away. Simply, Ministerial Cafeteria gives more space for the dancers, but their faces will still be on the ground as they try to process what they’re hearing."

When the Beat Konducta and his trusty alter ego link up for the sequel, another southern California blunt cruise ensues. The Adventures Of Lord Quas consists of a slow ride through the deepest corners of the crate, leaving no genre unearthed until it claims space in the haze of one’s imagination. It’s business as unusual: Madlib funnels his most twisted impulses and comedic sensibilities into a sonic slacker flck complete with good dope, bottom-shelf liquor, and a penchant for gazing mouth agape into the great unknown. But he knows Lord Quas like a good needle on wax, and they casually strut through the loops, much ado about frontin’. (Not like fake shit ain’t a big deal, but it ain’t a big enough deal.) This record captures Madlib and his id at their most frantic, indulgent, and often confusing; they trade neatness for chaos, continuity for collage in a barrage of the finest sounds this side of the B-side. It’s hip-hop that takes every visible risk, often striking gold and proving how in control the Loop Digga truly is. Don’t hit it too hard, your other selves might pay you a visit.

DJ MAG:
"Spanning 10 tracks, 'The Fifth Chakra (Ambient Space Tea)' explores sound system culture, covering one of the British-Jamaican artist's biggest influences. The record is largely beatless and focuses on the power of sub-bass and other electronics, moving away from the percussive house energy of much of his past material."


909Originals:
"The largely ambient album is a departure from the thumping beats that Mr G has become famous for, but it also displays his personal, emotional side - tracks like Constant, Solar Eclipse NYC and The 5th Chakra encapsulate an artist allowing himself the freedom to roam through his influences."


Resident Advisor:
"Never did I think I'd get to a meditative place and learn restraint,' he said. "This is the album I've always wanted to make, never thinking I could. Also, after loving others' bass-heavy albums, it's a joy to put my own into the mix. But I always remember my thing is weight and tone in whatever I take on. Especially in this flat, compressed world."

Pia Isa is the solo project of bassist, guitarist and vocalist Pia Isaksen from Norwegian heavy psych/doom rock-band Superlynx. As much as she loves playing with Superlynx (already formed in 2013) and other people, Pia’s ideas for her solo-albums seemed more right to work through on her own mostly. Pia´s music is rooted in slow heavy drones, but also has a lighter, dreamy and hopeful side. She is inspired by massive soundscapes, heavy psych, meditative moods, desert vibes and Eastern scales as well as her Nordic coastal surroundings. Superlynx-listeners may recognize her slow, heavy and minimalistic riffs, and haunting sometimes chanting voice. Pia has an open mind to a lot of different music. Not caring about fitting to any genres but channeling honest and heartfelt music in her own way. The lyrics are deeply personal and stretches from the very inner self and throughout nature. On her new album Pia has worked more with layers of vocal harmonies and has given an old dark sounding nylon acoustic guitar more space in her massive distorted soundscape.

2024 Repress

All in that stark contrast between ethereal spaciousness and steely, martial rhythms out the industrial spectrum, 'Far Field' takes us on a voyage across the board, from breaks-heavy machine stunts to washed-out tapestries, via EBM-laced detours and junglistic maneuvers. Investigating the nexus zone between dance functionality and limitless escapology, it extrapolates both artists' blends to further immersive, hypnotic effect. Taking over the A side, .VRIL gets the ball rolling with 'Lost Together', which sets the tone on a low-slung, nostalgia-drenched note; combining the syncopated swagger of downtempo techno with ambient-oid stasis and static-filled opacity. Like watching an all-metal sun sinking past the blazing skyline. Revving up the engines, 'Fnord' feat. RAeYN conjures up a way more muscular arsenal of big-room-ready wares, from aggro snare salvos to anthemic synth kinetics, through that replicant-hunting kinda vibe. One to have the Saturn rings go hula hoop, with all woofers and brains in the vicinity melting in XTC. Shutting the A side off, 'We Believe' returns to a lighter, more vaporous mindset but sure implements that signature heavy swing of .VRIL, flush with textured kicks and FX-soaked arps. True monster prog swell. Flip it over and there's HVL dishing out a textbook example of his vortical electronic furls with the title-track, 'Far Field' - an oneiric drift that slowly rises from its heavy-lidded slumber, ascending towards bleepin' n bloopin' experimental effervescence as bars fly by. A number bound to hack your body and mind into two distinct facets, and while one dances its way frantically across the ever buzzing space/time continuum, the other shall reach a state of healing calm and transcending ubiquity. Smoothly shuttling us off to the upper layers of the ionosphere, 'Lancet Mxi' clenches it on a trippy note, taxiing us midway zero-G UK bass territories and eerie ambient abstraction. HVL's total, widescreen vision at its most unhindered, all set at expanding your mind to yet uncharted horizons of sound and closing the gap between two distant, estranged galaxies. A fractured headspace to both dance and dream to. *Dressed in a fine piece of artwork courtesy of Daniel M. Diaz, 'RYCL021' comes pressed on 180g audiophile black vinyl for optimal playing and listening experience.

After seven years, Japandroids have returned with Fate and Alcohol, their fourth and final full-length. Written in part while the Vancouver duo-guitarist-vocalist Brian King and drummer-vocalist David Prowse-were touring behind their 2017 ANTI- debut, Near to the Wild Heart of Life, the album is at once a return to form and a thrilling step forward, testament to the sort of chemistry that they"ve honed over the course of 18 years and hundreds of shows side-by-side. Their aim was simply to write songs that they"d enjoy playing live, without sacrificing any of the nuance or ambition that marked their previous effort. Nowhere on this record is that more deeply felt than lead single "Chicago," a song whose sheer momentum feels inevitable and true-from the inherent romance of its opening chords to the series of snare-led explosions that see it through. Like the rest of Fate and Alcohol, it was recorded in Vancouver with longtime collaborator Jesse Gander, who also engineered 2009"s Post-Nothing and 2012"s Celebration Rock. "The very first demo we have of "Chicago" was recorded in our jam space on February 4th, 2020," King says, "and if you listen to that, it just sounds like a rough version of what you hear on the record. But it"s all there. That, in some ways, is the most ideal circumstance for a band like us: just having something that really rips in your jam space, something that feels good, something that you"re excited about."

50 frequency and amplitude modulated sine waves describing a landscape / Trigram for Earth. Trigram for Earth, by Flora Yin Wong, is inspired by traditional eight-sided Pakua mirrors and the trigrams inscribed on each of their edges. The function of the mirrors is to show the nature of reality as being composed of mutually opposing forces and modulate them. Here, energies seem to be manipulated to guide and direct our listening, lost in a maze of sound, diffracted to the point of merging with the artist's own listening, through her memories, her obsessions, the fragments she carries within her. Flora Yin Wong invites us to embark on a multi-faceted investigation of sound, a journey through the meanders of liberated sonic forces, an auscultation of her own listening and a portal, at last, ajar to a fragmented and forever mysterious inner world.In his work '50 frequency and amplitude modulated sine waves describing a landscape,' Sébastien Roux applies his approach to algorithmic composition to the observation of the natural world, bringing the sound of the sea and the song of birds into the electronic domain, transmuting them into each other through a slow process of gradual modulation. Exploring the abstract space of pure sounds between two naturalistic tableaux, Sébastien Roux offers us a fascinating meditation on the world of synthesis, revealing, with an economy of means and great formal elegance, the magic of sonic simulacrum (deepl propose simulacra, mais là je suis pas assez calé_) and the strange beauty of the artificial, in a gesture that is ultimately as poetic as it is musical.

Amputechture Beneath the technical flash, the fury, the fearless creative brinkmanship of the first two Mars Volta albums lay a potent seam of the blues, an existential vexation that powered every twist and turn of Omar and Cedric’s imaginations. That mournful vibe would come to the surface of the group’s third full-length Amputechture, a simmering/blistering set that was unquestionably the group’s darkest yet. There was no overarching theme here, no interlinking concept binding the songs together, though Cedric concedes that, lyrically, the album was influenced “by a lot of stuff I was going through, a really bad break-up and a lot of other crazy stuff, and trying to put that feeling into the record.” But Amputechture – its name another of the late Jeremy Michael Ward’s invented words – was no downbeat bummer. Opener Vicarious Atonement might’ve been a deliciously gloomy, slow-burning thing, capturing Cedric in delirious duet with Omar’s swooning guitar lines, accompanied by squalling saxophone by Adrian Terrazas-Gonzales and dream-frequency fuckery by the group’s new sonic manipulator, former At The Drive- In member Paul Hinojos. But second track Tetragrammaton swiftly set pulses racing, an epic-in-miniature and containing more ideas within its 16 minutes than most bands manage over an entire career, its proggy, complex guitar figures tessellating in infinite configurations and converging as if conforming to mathematical formulae from another reality. The raw material Amputechture was hewn from started life on the road. Omar now travelled with his own mobile recording studio – a little Neve ten-channel tape recorder and an array of microphones – and was able to work on new ideas on tourbuses, in hotel rooms and during soundcheck (and, occasionally, after the show was done). After touring for Frances The Mute was complete, Omar relocated to Amsterdam, staying with his photographer friend Danielle Van Ark and her partner, Nils Post. It’s here that he demoed Amputechture, flying in engineer Jon DeBaun, drummer Jon Theodore and his brother, Chino, to work on these raw sketches. He later returned to Los Angeles, where the album was finally recorded. Omar ceded guitar duties to his dear friend and kindred spirit John Frusciante, instead assuming the role of musical director. “I wanted to hear the sound of the band,” he says. “I thought, I’ll be able to sit at the console, feel the air of the speakers moving, the unified sound of everything, and not feel distant from it. It was fun, but it was also challenging.” Part of Omar’s new method was to teach the musicians their parts only moments before the tapes rolled. “To keep things fresh, and to keep everyone on edge,” he says, before chuckling. “No, not on edge – on their toes. Amputechture would prove The Mars Volta’s most diverse set yet, drawing into the group’s tornado of influences moments of fiery jazz spirituality and esoteric folk introspection, finding space for passages of devastating subtlety and also their most fierce and full-on moments to date. The aforementioned Vicarious Atonement found its meditative mood echoed by Asilos Magdalena, an intimate, acoustic piece that invoked traditional Latin folk music, as Cedric sang in Spanish a sorrowful tale of a lost soul’s quest for sanctuary within a Magdalen Asylum, a refuge set up by the Catholic church for “fallen women”. The shadowy, sinister closer El Ciervo Vulnerado, meanwhile, tapped into the darker side of spiritual jazz to further explore the album’s themes of redemption and religious myth and magick. Elsewhere, the interplay between guitar and clarinet on Viscera Eyes created complex, unsettling counter-melodies, while the coiling, ornate Meccamputechture – Cedric’s wild fusion of sacred texts, occultism and dystopian science fiction – proved a great showcase for Ikey Owens’ swarming, infernal organ runs, in concert with Frusciante’s arcane guitar-play. But it was Day Of The Baphomets that would prove Amputechture’s most ambitious and most defining epic. Cedric’s lyrics tore into the hypocrisy of religious cant and myths of sin and punishment. “I wanted to make a song that was like the movie The Believers, where this cabal stole kids and did some occult shit with them,” he explains. “But I wanted it to be like, ‘What if the people you hire to do jobs you don’t wanna do rise up one day and then pull some shit like that?’ Like it was the guerrilla warfare, them taking over – wouldn’t that be some fucked up shit? And the music just lent itself to that – the big intro, the bass solo, and all of the ruckus that occurs.” That ruckus was some of the most thrilling Mars Volta music yet, as Omar directed his musicians to rumble through fiery modes of wild tribal groove, ransack-the-palaces riot- rock and supreme progressive experimentalism. Amputechture, then, is the sound of The Mars Volta in imperial mode: fearless, insatiable, unstoppable.

Behind the deceptive veneer of the demure monotone artwork, something unassuming lies within this long-play waiting to be explored. Intrigued by the ironic title, enticed by the elegant text positioned alone on the beautifully tactile matte canvas, the listener will experience musical wonderment at odds with the presentation and discover that the 1976 album Colours is a powerful yet sophisticated set of electric soul-jazz. An inspired recording that bursts with warmth and texture, the pivotal recording from an exceptional jazz musician. HER name - Judy Bailey.

Over the course of a 70 year career, the pianist and composer established herself as one of the central figures of Australian jazz. Her crowning achievement Colours is a spirited and ambitious recording that captured the maturation and shifting jazz landscape of the mid 1970s Australia. Alongside other notable albums recorded mid decade including the 1975 self titled album by Melbourne's Arena (see Roundtable SIR014)) and Jackie Orszaczky's Beramiada (1975), the album signalled the countries transition from semi-acoustic jazz to electric jazz-funk. Regularly compared to the albums released on Creed Taylor's CTI label, Colours parallel these recordings with their clean production and spacious soul-jazz arrangements. In particular the crisp drums and processed bass heard on Bob James and Joe Farrell albums, the sprightly flute of Hubert Laws or perhaps the more sensual side of Flora Purim's vocals could all be suggested as a source of influence.

Continuing to celebrate and re-document Australia's jazz music legacy, The Roundtable are pleased to offer the first vinyl reissue of this seminal Australian Jazz recording. Presented in a replica gatefold sleeve with new liner notes, the full palette can once again be appreciated including the moody funk of Fall Down Dead, the Iberian Waltz Toledo, the Jazz-Dance anthem Colours Of My Dream and the spacey impressionist piece The Eleven Eight Song.

UK's Will Hofbauer, who has released on his own Third Place and other popular labels such as Wisdom Teeth, Rhythm Section International, Rinse Recordings and Aus Music, appears on Ladybug split series 'SF Traxx' These 3 dance tracks are made up of delicate rhythms and Will's unique sound.

A is Will's side, 'Cricket' transitions from breakbeats to 4/4, the experimental dance track 'Clod', and 'Cocodrilo' trips with unsettling synth and unique sound design.
All are wonderfully balanced dance floor tracks, uniquely distorted and loose.

On the flip side is Igaxx, a well-received release on Macadam Mambo and Angis Music.
It features the funky synth track '4.5 SL Trip', the floating breakbeat of 'Liquefy' and the mysterious downbeat cut with swirling bass and raspy distorted guitars 'Ray In Space'.

A split EP then, but one which highlights the individuality of both artists.

Limited Opaque Green Vinyl. Anthony "Ant" Davis is a distinguished hip-hop producer, one-half of the renowned duo Atmosphere, and a founding member of independent record label Rhymesayers Entertainment. His decades-long career of beat-making has also included works for MF DOOM, Brother Ali, Murs, Rav, Sage Francis and a dozen others. Raised in a military family, his nomadic upbringing exposed him to many diverse influences and, coupled with his father's love for collecting records, laid the groundwork for his deep appreciation for all sorts of music. Ant's latest endeavor, Collection of Sounds, is a four-volume series of instrumental works showcasing the breadth and depth of his musical expertise. The Collection of Sounds series offers a window into Ant's creative journey, reflecting his evolution as an artist over the years. Drawing from a vast vault of unreleased material, he's exhumed cross sections of his catalog with surgical precision, organizing songs by sound rather than mere chronology. Volume 1 is at times so intimate as to border on claustrophobia, like the creeping "Bar One" or the haunted twinkling of "I Was Always A Collector" while other tracks are expansive enough to fill entire venues, like the forebodingly airy "4-Track Beyond Beat 1996." Many of the beats on Collection of Sounds: Volume 1 have pockets that are practically begging for rappers to explore. When he first pondered releasing an instrumental series, Ant figured he might want to make the songs more intricate than the ones gave to his rapper collaborators, filling up the space in the mix that would normally be given over to their vocals. "But then it would be jazz, right?" he says with a loud laugh. "And I'm not that." Fitting, as Collection of Sounds is not about forgetting who you are-it's about remembering, reconfiguring and reimagining, all at once; a testament to Ant's artistic integrity.

Copenhagen’s Echocord returns this September with the ‘Invincible Nature’ EP by Altone, backed by a remix from Thomas Fehlmann and Another Channel. Atone is the guise of Tokyo’s Yuki Takasaki, one of the leading figures of the genre out of Japan with releases on the likes of Greyscale, Lempuyang, Vuo, Æ Recordings, Primary colours and many more. His distinctive twist on Dub Techno has earned him accolades worldwide within the underground and here he joins the roster of the esteemed Echocord, the Kenneth Christiansen helmed label that’s been at the forefront of Dub Techno for more than two decades now. The original mix of ‘Naturally Unnatural’ opens, showcasing Altone’s unique style via subtly nuanced chord flutters, expansive reverberations, pulsating low end tones and ever unfolding, subtly unfurling feel. The ‘Naturally Flowing Thomas Fehlmann Remix’ follows, the Swiss sonic wizard and former member of the legendary The Orb among many other projects delivers deep, throbbing subs and glitched out synth modulations intertwined with fragments of the original composition. ‘Unnaturally Balanced’ then opens the B-Side with Altone diving deeper into dub realms courtesy of ever alternating, billowing dub echoes and a raw, reduced rhythm section. The ‘Another Channel Version’ of ‘Unnaturally Balanced’ then rounds out the EP, embracing a more classic dub techno aesthetic as crunchy drums, swirling atmospherics and spaced out echoes ebb and flow amongst one another across the six and half minute duration.

Dubstep's origins lie in dark 2-step mutations that evolved on dancefloors and in studios in the early 2000s. That same fusion of swing and space and subs can be found by the bucketload throughout the new EP by one of DNO’s staples, Kercha.
Skippy speed garage hats and slippery globules of bass animate the otherwise sparse production on the opening track ‘Feature’, while the wild beat on ‘Absurd’ could catch out any DJs not giving it their full attention. Wrapped in Kercha’s signature sonic debris, it delivers three and a half minutes of rattling, clicking, squelching wizardry.

The B-side gives us ‘Stimulate’, a collaboration with new-gen rising star Hypho. Indebted to trap, it’s full of militant 808 hi-hat rolls and the kind of firing synth tones that spell doom in a sci-fi movie (and tear up festival stages).

Finally, ‘Saturday’ is classic Kercha: sub-bass from the Seventh Circle, and so many suspicious chirps, whistles and hoots that it could soundtrack a nighttime stroll through the woods just as easily as skanking in a smoked-out sweatbox. The track is peppered with voice notes from a friend — snatches of funny, halfcut chatter, as random in content as Kercha's non-vocal sampladelia. The final snippet, which translates to “Saturday dictates its rules”, gives the track its name. A statement that can be read in all sorts of ways, it could even confer a motto for this whole collection, reflecting Kercha’s trademark originality.

The ‘Absurd’ EP is one of Kercha’s most dancefloor-directed releases to date, and whether conjuring the ghosts of club nights past or envisioning the raves of the future, it’ll be dominating sound systems for a long time to come.

Rhythms of postmodern realism at the very bottom of the DNO.

An All-Time Jazz Audiophile Masterpiece - Now on UHQR!
200-gram 45 RPM 2LP release limited to 5,000 copies
Mastered by Kevin Gray at Cohearent Audio from the original analogue tapes
Set includes 8-page booklet with liner notes by renowned jazz critic Bob Blumenthal
Pressed on Clarity Vinyl at Quality Record Pressings
Purest possible pressing and most visually stunning presentation and packaging!
One of the most classic jazz albums and live recordings, a regular on most best-of jazz lists!

The fourth and final album by one of the most influential groups in jazz history, the Bill Evans Trio album Waltz For Debby was originally released in 1962 as a companion to Sunday At The Village Vanguard. It captures the mesmerizing and intimate live performances of Evans and his trio at the Village Vanguard in New York City. The album showcases Evans' unique approach to jazz piano, characterized by delicate touch, introspective improvisation, and profound musicality.

The title track, "Waltz for Debby," serves as the centrepiece of the album. It is a hauntingly beautiful composition penned by Evans himself as a tribute to his niece, Debby. The waltz unfolds with a graceful and melancholic melody, carried by Evans' masterful piano playing.

Throughout the album, Evans and his trio venture into other classic jazz standards, including "My Foolish Heart," "Detour Ahead," and "Milestones." With each performance, they delve deep into the heart of the music, exploring its nuances and improvising with a profound sense of lyricism. Evans' introspective style shines through, as he delicately navigates the harmonies, unveiling layers of emotion and introspection.

The beauty of "Waltz for Debby" lies not only in the musicianship but also in the intimate atmosphere it creates. The live recording captures the ambiance of the Village Vanguard, with the audience's presence adding an extra dimension to the music. The subtle clinks of glasses, the occasional applause, and the hushed whispers become a part of the experience, enhancing the authenticity and charm of the album.

Now Analogue Productions, the audiophile in-house reissue label of Acoustic Sounds, Inc., together with Quality Record Pressings, is creating the definitive Waltz For Debby reissue: the Ultra High Quality Record (UHQR) pressed on Clarity Vinyl with attention paid to every single detail of this one-of-a-kind reissue.

Four glorious sides of 200-gram Clarity Vinyl from QRP, the world's best pressing plant. Cut at 45 RPM to reduce distortion and high frequency loss as the wider-spaced grooves let your stereo cartridge track more accurately. UHQRs from Analogue Productions are the gold-standard in premium vinyl releases, with attention paid to every single detail. The proprietary vinyl compound enhances the sound quality, offering improved dynamics, detail, and tonal accuracy. The heavier vinyl minimizes resonance and warping, providing a stable and flat playing surface. And great care is taken to eliminate any surface noise or imperfections throughout the manufacturing process.

Overall, UHQR Clarity Vinyl from Analogue Productions is a sought-after format among audiophiles and collectors who value the highest possible audio fidelity from their vinyl records.

Waltz for Debby stands as a testament to Bill Evans' genius as a pianist and composer. It is a profound and evocative exploration of melody, harmony, and improvisation, revealing the depths of emotion and the artistry that Evans brought to his music. The album remains a beloved gem in the jazz canon, cherished by fans and musicians alike for its timeless beauty and the lasting impact it has had on the genre.