Поиск:paradise bird

Kilòmetro 4.5 takes you into danceable ambient sounds through a dreamy album produced by Snad. Loop DreamZz is an ethereal representation of nostalgic soundscapes. It wraps you in a strange yet familiar sense of paradise at twilight, be it before dawn or post-sunset. Faint birdsong, gentle waves, and the bittersweet tiredness when you’re one of the last on the sandy dancefloor, yet perpetually craving to keep the dream looping.

The full moon of May 2022 brings the 6th Hypnus record by Birds ov Paradise.

Early support from Dorisburg, TM404, Brando Lupi, Abstract Division, Arnaud le Texier, Ben Buitendijk, Felix Lorusso, Mosam Howieson, Samuli Kemppi, Takaaki Itoh, Hydrangea and Forest on Stasys to name a few.

Love and light

Three years after he released the incredible New Experience EP (picking up plaudits from Bill Brewster, Tim Sweeney, Laurent Garnier, Horse Meat Disco, Leo Mas & 6Music’s Tom Ravenscroft, among many more), Tokyo’s Kota Motomura returns to Hobbes Music for his debut LP, Pay It Forward. This is the first vinyl release on Hobbes Music since the much-loved ‘Aranath’ EP by Leonidas & Hobbes last Spring. While the label maintains the level of quality control for which it has become recognised, the artist continues to subvert electronic and dance music norms in his iconoclastic way on this extraordinary record.

He’s a mysterious character with an ear for idiosyncratic music that runs the gamut from ambient, exotica and jazz to disco, house and techno via post punk, new wave and funk. It’s highly original and all adds up to a confection perhaps best described as ‘Balearic’.

Album opener Paradise is a certified jazz-funk JAM. Destined for dance floors worldwide, this one’s been dropping well with DJs, Motomura demonstrating his piano chops alongside Mutsumi Takeuchi’s sax. Tropical pushes the boat in a more rhythmic direction, some pretty wild drum programming laced with more sounds of the, um, tropics, before mad vocal yelps suggest something yet more tribal. To Be Free initially resembles early 90s progressive house (pulsing bassline, synth-driven melodies), before the arrival of some new wave guitar licks a la classic Talking Heads/David Byrne and ooh ooh vocal chants take it to another dimension altogether.

B-side opener Emotion features Takeuchi again (on flute this time) and more vocal chants before things take a dramatic turn, threatening to open up into a full fanfare before calming and then bursting into wild life again with the exhortation that “C’mon, everybody dancing!” Rhythm flirts with an energy and pace more akin to a techno record: drums, drums, more drums plus a fair few yelps and chants - the kind of DJ tool that will send a simmering dance floor wild in the right hands. Flower closes things in a more melancholy style, familiar to fans of ‘Aboy’ from the New Experience EP, with plaintive acoustic guitar (performed by Akichi), birdsong and big piano chords.

Support from Bill Brewster, Leo Mas, Al Kent, Red Rack’em, Nick The Record, Phil Mison, Phat Phil Cooper, KZA, Sean Johnston (ALFOS), S/A/M, Dribbler, Joe Muggs, Monolith Cocktail and more…

‘Gonna review in MÜ mag... very fine stuff!’ JOE MUGGS
‘Will be reviewed on the blog’ MONOLITH COCKTAIL 
BILL BREWSTER played Flower on the DJ History podcast #641 (25.3.22)
'I really like this album, Flower and Paradise are my favourite' LEO MAS
‘I like Paradise’ AL KENT
‘Woo this is tasty. DEFO playing on my next radio show. The label’s A&R is defo getting better and better. HM has been putting out some dope stuff and this one seems really good quality’ RED RACK’EM
‘Paradise and Flower sounding good’ NICK THE RECORD
‘Tunes sound great!’ PHIL MISON
‘Going to include Paradise and Flower on my Sunday Ibiza global radio show PHAT PHIL COOPER (Nu Northern Soul)
‘Very nice album with influences from many different genres. I especially like To Be Free with nice synths and guitar cutting, and Flower, which is a chill vibe’ KZA (Mule Musiq, Endless Flight)　
'100% correct about the ALFOS potential of To Be Free!' SEAN JOHNSTON (A Love From Outer Space)
'Stunning, will fit perfectly with the vibe of my radio show’ S/A/M (Music For Dreams, DK; Playa Del Sol, Ibiza)
'Stellar work, i'll make a bet that Flowers is a Balaeric classic this summer' DRIBBLER (Breakfast Club, Ibiza)
‘It's cool in a nice smelling psycho sense, it was a very DEEP sound that I couldn't produce. Congrats!’ ALTZ (Altzmusica)
‘Paradise is my jam, it's deep, sunny and never boring. I'm interested to see how this will work on the dance floor. Overall a great album with solid composition and impressive use of live instruments!’ SOBRIETY (fka Chloé Juliette)
'Very tidy selection' ASTROJAZZ (Kelburn Garden Party, Wee Dub, Samedia Shebeen, Disco Makossa)
‘This is a lovely release. Follows on from New Experience in the best way possible. It's got lots of vibes going on but holds together as a cohesive piece of work. Love it’ JAMIE THOMSON (La Cheetah, Glasgow)
‘To Be Free is a track i could imagine Andy Weatherall playing in one of his sets at A Love From Outer Space’ KIRSTIE PATON aka She-Bang Rave Unit (Threads Radio, Radio Magnetic)

When you listen to birds, they usually talk about food, sex/family, or anxiety. If they knew about the true nature of humanity's cruel and exploitative relationship with birds, they would be discussing rebellion. Humanity's current trajectory about birds is to cause the extinction of one-third of all bird species by the end of this century.

This record crystallises the borders between memory, beauty, and anxiety. At the core is an amalgam of all the birds we have met and heard, their sounds synthesised from a blend of memories. Esthetically it simulates the qualities of bird sounds, hitting similar frequential sweet spots. There is a great variety of birds captured here, from high to low frequencies, from solo voices to groups, from birds standing on their own to complex world-building, where the bird voices are part of an ecosystem, becoming one of the instruments.

You could stop there, enjoying this record on a musical level, but it invites us to do one step further, to consider reconfiguring our relationship with the Earth and its inhabitants. To question our impact, and to ask why we need synthetic bird music. Is it just a visionary endeavour or is it because we are failing at fostering a world in which organic birds and other creatures can thrive?

32 artists from the whole world, including our favourite artists from Eastern Europe, have contributed to this compilation both with new and previously released music. Their music is ordered from dawn to dusk and into the night. For many of the artists it's their first time on mappa, but some have previously released an album with us.

2026 Repress

The clergy is pleased to introduce you to a new initiate: Birds ov Paradise. This highly anticipated Hypnus debut comes split into three separate EP's which will be released one each full moon starting October.

Some of you may be acquainted with the music of Birds ov Paradise already as he's put out two stellar records on Jens and Aniara Recordings in 2016-2017, as well as making a contribution to our podcast series The Memoir where his sound was put on a grand display. Those of you who are new to the fantastic dream world of this very talented artist will quickly get lost in the flowing rhythms that drives his magical deep techno sound.

Early support from Etapp Kyle, Ness, Slam, Iori, Refracted, Svreca, Cio D'Or and Dorisburg to name a few.

Over the course of 2025 IARC will be celebrating their eleventh year of existence by revisiting some of the most celebrated (and hard to find) entries in their decade of releases. These LP packages will be presented with new liner notes, new insert booklets, and the fresh 2025 redesign of their iconic obi and dome logo. They will also be at a price point intended to help make it easier for stores to stock and sell these essential pieces of their catalog.

"Hidden City" (2016) is The Cult"s tenth studio album - produced by Bob Rock and written by Ian Astbury and Billy Duffy. It"s the final part of a trilogy that witnessed the rebirth of the band, beginning with "Born Into This" (2007), which evolved into "Choice of Weapon" (2012), and arrived fully formed, kicking and screaming with the seductive "Hidden City". The sonic assault of "Dark Energy" is the perfect intro to this album. Peel away the layers of this 12-track master class in space and time, and you will discover a band in their absolute prime. Which comes as no surprise, as the Cult have existed in the shadows and wild spaces since their inception. Remastered for vinyl by Justin Shturtz at Sterling Sound, and cut by John Webber at Air Studios.

"Hidden City" (2016) is The Cult"s tenth studio album - produced by Bob Rock and written by Ian Astbury and Billy Duffy. It"s the final part of a trilogy that witnessed the rebirth of the band, beginning with "Born Into This" (2007), which evolved into "Choice of Weapon" (2012), and arrived fully formed, kicking and screaming with the seductive "Hidden City". The sonic assault of "Dark Energy" is the perfect intro to this album. Peel away the layers of this 12-track master class in space and time, and you will discover a band in their absolute prime. Which comes as no surprise, as the Cult have existed in the shadows and wild spaces since their inception. Remastered for vinyl by Justin Shturtz at Sterling Sound, and cut by John Webber at Air Studios.

Forming in 2014, Fury established themselves quickly, releasing both a demo on Washington, D.C.'s Mosher Delight Records and the "Kingdom Come" EP on Boston's Triple B Records in the same calendar year. They built on the melodic legacy of Orange County by way of heavy, rhythmic, start-stop guitars and Stith's wordy and referential lyrics. Then, in 2016, came their debut LP on Triple B Records, "Paramount," which was met with respect from the hardcore community and praise from outsider critics."Failed Entertainment" documents the work, both personal and creative, undertaken since the release of "Paramount," a period of time marked by as many difficulties as successes. Stith said, "I've asked myself `Why have I done this?' and `Why do I continue to do this?' more times in the last two years than the rest of my life combined." Those eternal, existential questions form the thematic foundation of the new songs, which look past the superficial concerns about status and popularity that preoccupy so many musicians, focusing instead on life's inevitable, inescapable problems and the ways in which they can be compounded by the banal realities of art-making _ the isolation of being on tour, the pressure of being expected to somehow transform that universal angst into nice, catchy songs that provide simple lessons.

The second solo record by Mike Polizze of Philadelphia psych-squallers Purling Hiss and Birds of Maya, a rainier and more pensive affair than its predecessor_despite its playful humor and plentiful hooks_affirms his status as a consummate (and now not-so-secret) craftsman of instantly memorable bucolic odes of languid beauty, deepening his fingerstyle acoustic guitar magic and finally manifesting the title of the classic Hiss anthem "Run from the City."

DO call it a comeback! Nach nicht weniger als 22 Jahren veröffentlichen die Wiener Beat-Maestros Urbs & Cutex wie aus heiterem Himmel ihr drittes Album namens "On Our Way". Die beiden Veteranen zeigen sich bestens aufgelegt und schaffen es auf diesem Überraschungspaket mühelos dort anzuschließen, wo sie vor zwei Jahrzehnten aufgehört haben. Sie bleiben sich selbst treu, finden aber auch neue Wege ihren sehr persönlichen Stil weiterzuentwickeln und HipHop und Downtempo auf eigenständige Weise zu verschmelzen. Urbs & Cutex (der auch unter Cut Ex firmiert) sind ein Produzenten-Duo aus Wien, das sich auf entspannte Instrumentalmusik spezialisiert und klassischen East Coast HipHop mit Elementen von Triphop und Downtempo verbindet. Beide begannen Anfang der 90er Jahre als DJs und machten ihre ersten Schritte als Produzenten unabhängig voneinander, um später eine der interessantesten Gruppen der florierenden Wiener Elektronik-Szene zu formen. Zwei gefeierte Alben wurden damals veröffentlicht und noch heute werden ihre Songs von immer neuen Generationen entdeckt, was zu Millionen Aufrufen auf den bekannten Streaming-Plattformen führt. Nach 22 Jahren, diversen Solo-Alben (u.a. Urbs' "Toujours Le Meme Film" und "Geheimland"), unzähligen Singles, Remixes und Kollaborationen, haben sie also beschlossen, wieder zusammenzuarbeiten und dabei ihr Mojo sofort wiedergefunden. Mit charmanter Sturheit produzieren Urbs & Cutex weiterhin Musik, die manche als retro, andere als zeitlos bezeichnen werden. "Wir suchen nach immerwährenden Wahrheiten" bemerken sie dazu achselzuckend. Das Album beginnt daher ganz im Stil ihres letzten Albums "Peace Talks!". Soul- und Jazz-Loops werden mit dopen Beats kombiniert und man wird sogar mit dem ersten Rap-Part überrascht, der es jemals auf ihre Alben geschafft hat: T.R.A.C. aus New York, bekannt als MC von Marc Macs Visioneers, unzähligen Drum&Bass Releases und nicht zuletzt Urbs´ Solo-Alben, glänzt auf der ersten Single "Wherever You Are". Nach einigen Songs lässt sich feststellen, daß Urbs & Cutex ihren Sound aber sehr wohl subtil weiterentwickelt haben. Durch gefinkelte Arrangements und gekonntes Übereinanderschichten von Samples wird eine dichte Atmosphäre geschaffen, die weit über das hinausgeht, was Boombap üblicherweise bietet. Urbs & Cutex schaffen es auf diesen 14 Songs die Fadesse von Chillout, Lofi und Boombap zu umgehen und bauen einen Spannungsbogen, der von uplifting bis deep und hypnotisch reicht.

Googling “paradise house”, the first results to pop up are an endless list of European b&b’s with whitewashed lime façades, all of them promising “…an unmatched travel experience a few steps from the sea”. Next, a little further down, are the institutional websites of a few select semi-luxury retirement homes (no photos shown, but lots of stock images of smiling nurses with reassuring looks). To find the “paradise house” we’re after, we have to scroll even further down. Much further down.

It feels like yesterday, and at the same time it seems like a million years ago. The Eighties had just ended, and it was still unclear what to expect from the Nineties. Mobile phones that were not the size of a briefcase and did not cost as much as a car? A frightening economic crisis? The guitar-rock revival?! Certainly, the best place to observe that moment of transition was the dancefloor. Truly epochal transformations were happening there. From America, within a short distance one from the other, two revolutionary new musical styles had arrived: the first one sounded a bit like an “on a budget” version of the best Seventies disco-music – Philly sound made with a set of piano-bar keyboards! – the other was even more sparse, futuristic and extraterrestrial. It was a music with a quite distinct “physical” component, which at the same time, to be fully grasped, seemed to call for the knotty theories of certain French post-modern philosophers: Gilles Deleuze, Félix Guattari, Paul Virilio... Both those genres – we would learn shortly after – were born in the black communities of Chicago and Detroit, although listening to those vinyl 12” (often wrapped in generic white covers, and with little indication in the label) you could not easily guess whether behind them there was a black boy from somewhere in the Usa, or a girl from Berlin, or a pale kid from a Cornish coastal town.

Quickly, similar sounds began to show up from all corners of Europe. A thousand variations of the same intuition: leaner, less lean, happier, slightly less intoxicated, more broken, slower, faster, much faster... Boom! From the dancefloors – the London ones at least, whose chronicles we eagerly read every month in the pages of The Face and i-D – came tales of a new generation of clubbers who had completely stopped “dressing up” to go dancing; of hot tempered hooligans bursting into tears and hugging everyone under the strobe lights as the notes of Strings of Life rose up through the fumes of dry ice (certain “smiling” pills were also involved, sure). At this point, however, we must move on to Switzerland.

In Switzerland, in the quiet and diligent town of Lugano, between the 1980s and 1990s there was a club called “Morandi”. Its hot night was on Wednesdays, when the audience also came from Milan, Como, Varese and Zurich. Legend goes that, one night, none less than Prince and Sheila E were spotted hiding among the sofas, on a day-off of the Italian dates of the Nude Tour… The Wednesday resident and superstar was an Italian dj with an exotic name: Don Carlos. The soundtrack he devised was a mixture of Chicago, Detroit, the most progressive R&B and certain forgotten classics of old disco music: practically, what the Paradise Garage in New York might have sounded like had it not closed in 1987. In between, Don Carlos also managed to squeeze in some tracks he had worked on in his studio on Lago Maggiore. One in particular: a track that was rather slow compared to the BPM in fashion at the time, but which was a perfect bridge between house and R&B. The title was Alone: Don Carlos would explain years later that it had to be intended both in the English meaning of “by itself” and like the Italian word meaning “halo”. That wasn’t the only double entendre about the song, anyway. Its own very deep nature was, indeed, double. On the one hand, Alone was built around an angelic keyboard pattern and a romantic piano riff that took you straight to heaven; on the other, it showcased enough electronic squelches (plus a sax part that sounded like it had been dissolved by acid rain) to pigeonhole the tune into the “junk modernity” section, aka the hallmark of all the most innovative sounds of the time: music that sounded like it was hand-crafted from the scraps of glittering overground pop.

No one knows who was the first to call it “paradise house”, nor when it happened. Alternative definitions on the same topic one happened to hear included “ambient house”, “dream house”, “Mediterranean progressive”… but of course none were as good (and alluring) as “paradise house”. What is certain is that such inclination for sounds that were in equal measure angelic and neurotic, romantic and unaffective, quickly became the trademark of the second generation of Italian house. Music that seemed shyly equidistant from all the rhythmic and electronic revolutions that had happened up to that moment (“Music perfectly adept at going nowhere slowly” as noted by English journalist Craig McLean in a legendary field report for Blah Blah Blah magazine). Music that to a inattentive ear might have sounded as anonymous as a snapshot of a random group of passers-by at 10AM in the centre of any major city, but perfectly described the (slow) awakening in the real world after the universal love binge of the so-called Second Summer of Love.

For a brief but unforgettable season, in Italy “paradise house” was the official soundtrack of interminable weekends spent inside the car, darting from one club to another, cutting the peninsula from North to centre, from East to West coast in pursuit of the latest after-hours disco, trading kilometres per hour with beats per minute: practically, a new New Year’s Eve every Friday and Saturday night. This too was no small transformation, as well as a shock for an adult Italy that was encountering for the first time – thanks to its sons and daughters – the wild side of industrial modernity. The clubbers of the so-called “fuoriorario” scene were the balls gone mad in the pinball machine most feared by newspapers, magazines and TV pundits. What they did each and every weekend, apart from going crazy to the sound of the current white labels, was linking distant geographical points and non-places (thank you Marc Augé!) – old dance halls, farmhouses and business centres – transformed for one night into house music heaven. As Marco D’Eramo wrote in his 1995 essay on Chicago, Il maiale e il grattacielo: “Four-wheeled capitalism distorts our age-old image of the city, it allows the suburbs to be connected to each other, whereas before they were connected only by the centre (…) It makes possible a metropolitan area without a metropolis, without a city centre, without downtown. The periphery is no longer a periphery of any centre, but is self-centred”.

“Paradise house” perfectly understood all of this and turned it into a sort of cyber-blues that didn’t even need words, and unexpectedly brought back a drop of melancholic (post?)-humanity within a world that by then – as we would wholly realise in the decades to come – was fully inhuman and heartless. A world where we were all alone, and surrounded by a sinister yellowish halo, like a neon at the end of its life cycle. But, for one night at least, happy."

Volume 1 of this expertly curated project of 90s Italian House - put together by Don Carlos.

If Paradise was half as nice… by Fabio De Luca.

Googling “paradise house”, the first results to pop up are an endless list of European b&b’s with whitewashed lime façades, all of them promising “…an unmatched travel experience a few steps from the sea”. Next, a little further down, are the institutional websites of a few select semi-luxury retirement homes (no photos shown, but lots of stock images of smiling nurses with reassuring looks). To find the “paradise house” we’re after, we have to scroll even further down. Much further down.

It feels like yesterday, and at the same time it seems like a million years ago. The Eighties had just ended, and it was still unclear what to expect from the Nineties. Mobile phones that were not the size of a briefcase and did not cost as much as a car? A frightening economic crisis? The guitar-rock revival?! Certainly, the best place to observe that moment of transition was the dancefloor. Truly epochal transformations were happening there. From America, within a short distance one from the other, two revolutionary new musical styles had arrived: the first one sounded a bit like an “on a budget” version of the best Seventies disco-music – Philly sound made with a set of piano-bar keyboards! – the other was even more sparse, futuristic and extraterrestrial. It was a music with a quite distinct “physical” component, which at the same time, to be fully grasped, seemed to call for the knotty theories of certain French post-modern philosophers: Gilles Deleuze, Félix Guattari, Paul Virilio... Both those genres – we would learn shortly after – were born in the black communities of Chicago and Detroit, although listening to those vinyl 12” (often wrapped in generic white covers, and with little indication in the label) you could not easily guess whether behind them there was a black boy from somewhere in the Usa, or a girl from Berlin, or a pale kid from a Cornish coastal town.

Quickly, similar sounds began to show up from all corners of Europe. A thousand variations of the same intuition: leaner, less lean, happier, slightly less intoxicated, more broken, slower, faster, much faster... Boom! From the dancefloors – the London ones at least, whose chronicles we eagerly read every month in the pages of The Face and i-D – came tales of a new generation of clubbers who had completely stopped “dressing up” to go dancing; of hot tempered hooligans bursting into tears and hugging everyone under the strobe lights as the notes of Strings of Life rose up through the fumes of dry ice (certain “smiling” pills were also involved, sure). At this point, however, we must move on to Switzerland.

In Switzerland, in the quiet and diligent town of Lugano, between the 1980s and 1990s there was a club called “Morandi”. Its hot night was on Wednesdays, when the audience also came from Milan, Como, Varese and Zurich. Legend goes that, one night, none less than Prince and Sheila E were spotted hiding among the sofas, on a day-off of the Italian dates of the Nude Tour… The Wednesday resident and superstar was an Italian dj with an exotic name: Don Carlos. The soundtrack he devised was a mixture of Chicago, Detroit, the most progressive R&B and certain forgotten classics of old disco music: practically, what the Paradise Garage in New York might have sounded like had it not closed in 1987. In between, Don Carlos also managed to squeeze in some tracks he had worked on in his studio on Lago Maggiore. One in particular: a track that was rather slow compared to the BPM in fashion at the time, but which was a perfect bridge between house and R&B. The title was Alone: Don Carlos would explain years later that it had to be intended both in the English meaning of “by itself” and like the Italian word meaning “halo”. That wasn’t the only double entendre about the song, anyway. Its own very deep nature was, indeed, double. On the one hand, Alone was built around an angelic keyboard pattern and a romantic piano riff that took you straight to heaven; on the other, it showcased enough electronic squelches (plus a sax part that sounded like it had been dissolved by acid rain) to pigeonhole the tune into the “junk modernity” section, aka the hallmark of all the most innovative sounds of the time: music that sounded like it was hand-crafted from the scraps of glittering overground pop.

No one knows who was the first to call it “paradise house”, nor when it happened. Alternative definitions on the same topic one happened to hear included “ambient house”, “dream house”, “Mediterranean progressive”… but of course none were as good (and alluring) as “paradise house”. What is certain is that such inclination for sounds that were in equal measure angelic and neurotic, romantic and unaffective, quickly became the trademark of the second generation of Italian house. Music that seemed shyly equidistant from all the rhythmic and electronic revolutions that had happened up to that moment (“Music perfectly adept at going nowhere slowly” as noted by English journalist Craig McLean in a legendary field report for Blah Blah Blah magazine). Music that to a inattentive ear might have sounded as anonymous as a snapshot of a random group of passers-by at 10AM in the centre of any major city, but perfectly described the (slow) awakening in the real world after the universal love binge of the so-called Second Summer of Love.

For a brief but unforgettable season, in Italy “paradise house” was the official soundtrack of interminable weekends spent inside the car, darting from one club to another, cutting the peninsula from North to centre, from East to West coast in pursuit of the latest after-hours disco, trading kilometres per hour with beats per minute: practically, a new New Year’s Eve every Friday and Saturday night. This too was no small transformation, as well as a shock for an adult Italy that was encountering for the first time – thanks to its sons and daughters – the wild side of industrial modernity. The clubbers of the so-called “fuoriorario” scene were the balls gone mad in the pinball machine most feared by newspapers, magazines and TV pundits. What they did each and every weekend, apart from going crazy to the sound of the current white labels, was linking distant geographical points and non-places (thank you Marc Augé!) – old dance halls, farmhouses and business centres – transformed for one night into house music heaven. As Marco D’Eramo wrote in his 1995 essay on Chicago, Il maiale e il grattacielo: “Four-wheeled capitalism distorts our age-old image of the city, it allows the suburbs to be connected to each other, whereas before they were connected only by the centre (…) It makes possible a metropolitan area without a metropolis, without a city centre, without downtown. The periphery is no longer a periphery of any centre, but is self-centred”.

“Paradise house” perfectly understood all of this and turned it into a sort of cyber-blues that didn’t even need words, and unexpectedly brought back a drop of melancholic (post?)-humanity within a world that by then – as we would wholly realise in the decades to come – was fully inhuman and heartless. A world where we were all alone, and surrounded by a sinister yellowish halo, like a neon at the end of its life cycle. But, for one night at least, happy.

While she was waiting for her last album 'Pripyat' to be released, Catalan composer and producer Marina Herlop was restless. She was concerned about her (by then) uncertain music career, and felt emotionally unmoored. "Some days I used to sit on the balcony of my flat to catch some sun," she explains, "I would close my eyes and start visualizing myself as a gardener, pulling out purple weeds from the soil, every bad memory or emotion I wanted to expulse being one of the plants." As the days dragged on, the fantasy deepened, and Herlop discovered that parts of the garden was withering; the energy she had been putting into the non-musical side of her life had seeped into her creative pasture and poisoned it. She knew what she needed to do to overcome the blight: plant some seeds and tend to her art to help it blossom and bloom once again. 'Nekkuja' is a place for Herlop's warmest, sweetest sentiments to rise to the surface and crack through the topsoil. She describes the record as a way for her to seek and affirm inner light, and it's undoubtedly her brightest, poppiest statement to date. The forward-thinking, experimental touches that nourished 'Pripyat' are still present, but blessed with a level of positivity that's rare to find in a scene so entranced by darkness and melancholy. Skittering fragments of ornate acoustic instrumentation provide a serene welcome to 'Busa', punctuated by precise electronic processes that shuttle the sound towards abstraction and fantasy. Herlop's voice grows over the tangle of sounds from a childish giggle into a layered, matted mantra, sounding passionate, hopeful and full of energy. The vitality spills over into 'Cosset', where she wraps powerful motifs around ricocheting beats and dramatic piano rolls. Herlop's garden opens up dramatically on 'Karada' when bucolic field recordings crack like sunlight over harp plucks and willowy vocals. Her voice seems to bend around the whooshing streams and chittering of birds as if she's singing to the manicured land itself - a utopian paradise that Herlop employs as a metaphor for the creative process. In contrast to the view that an artist is an isolated genius or an idol to be worshipped, Herlop believes that the garden helps us see the process as closer to devotion or perseverance. A gardener brings order to the wild chaos of the outdoors, collaborating with nature to arrange something vibrant and enduring. Blending familiar sounds with fanciful concepts, Herlop traces an imaginary garden, imploring us to wander and wonder. And by the album's billowing final track 'Babel', it's flowered into a flush of pruned vocal phrases and delicately groomed orchestral rushes, painted in orange, green, blue and red.

Ein weiterer außergewöhnlicher Release in der hochgelobten WaJazz-Reihe ist dem Leben und der Musik eines der berühmtesten japanischen Jazzmusiker der letzten 60+ Jahre gewidmet, dem legendären Saxophonisten Jiro Inagaki mit seiner Soul Media-Band und ihrer goldenen Ära 1968-1980. Diese ultimative Kollektion erscheint auf goldfarbigem 180g Doppelvinyl im Gatefold mit detaillierten Linernotes von Yusuke Ogawa (Universounds), Kommentaren von Jiro und exklusiven Fotos. 16 mal pures Gold aus Jazz, Jazz-Funk und Jazz-Rock, darunter eine unveröffentlichte Version des Tracks 'Express' – erstmals auf Vinyl!

Joel Sarakula's new album "Soft Focus" is a mid-career album spanning his many influences and genres including Soft-Rock, Funk and Indie Pop, all brought under the umbrella of his gentle gaze and a 'soft' aesthetic. "Soft Focus" is also the name of a photographic technique born out of a spherical abberation of the lens where the image is a bit blurry and undefined: it's both flattering and forgiving on the subject. It's an apt title. As a lifetime wearer of (vintage) glasses, Sarakula knows a lot about spherical abberations. Perhaps he produced these songs with his glasses off as these are abstract and warm vignettes, never overstaying their welcome and for this reason Sarakula manages to feature twelve new tracks on "Soft Focus".

Highlights include one of the two Shawn Lee produced tracks "I'll Get By Without You", the rockier, iberic beat of "King Of Spain", the soulful affirmation of "Back For Your Love" and the psychedelic-tinged "Bird Of Paradise" and "Microdosing". This is a lovingly crafted album, well polished and it feels like the culmination of Sarakula's adventures in soulful soft-rock and his defining statement in the genre. While comparisons will be made with contemporary projects like Shawn Lee's Young Gun Silver Fox, Drugdealer, Benny Sings and Prep, echoes of soft-rock icons Ned Doheny, Boz Scaggs, Todd Rundgren and Michael Franks also ripple gently through the album.

Imagine if Ray Manzarek was the frontman for the Bee Gees... It's a neat visual introduction to Joel Sarakula, a UK-based Australian artist who writes, produces and sings Soulful Pop, gazing out at a contemporary world through vintage glasses, vintage threads and long blond hair. His music is informed by a rich, 1970s-inspired palette, drawing on soft-rock, funk and disco influences: sunny, uptempo jams for darker times. Self-aware that he looks and occasionally sounds like the love child of Ray Manzarek and the Gibb brothers, his self-deprecating sense of humour is always there just below the fringe.

Born in Sydney, based in UK and international in outlook Sarakula is a songwriter who has travelled the world in search of his muse, experiencing everything from being a victim of Caribbean carjackings to performing in the remote fishing villages of Norway before finally establishing his career in the UK and Europe. Since then he has released albums such as "Island Time" (2023), "Companionship" (2020), "Love Club" (2018) and "The Imposter" (2015) that have racked up plays on rotation across national UK and European radio and got him noticed in The New York Times, The Independent (UK), The Irish Times, Rolling Stone Germany, El Pais (Spain) and Sydney Morning Herald. It's- been a long road finding his current cult status starting out at the piano from a young age in suburban Sydney, writing and singing songs by the time he was a teenager and onstage by fifteen years old playing jazz standards in his local golf club. "I came from humble beginnings, it's best not to mention" as he sings in his 70s boogie influenced song "I'm Still Winning". Joel Sarakula is a fixture on the festival and club circuit having previously performed at SXSW, Primavera Sound and Glastonbury festivals. Ever the internationalist, he tours with pickup bands sourced from each territory he plays in: a Barcelona band for Spain, a Berlin band for Germany and so forth. This cross-cultural exchange is another echo of the 1970s when world travelling soul and pop artists from the US did the same and guarantees that his live shows remain fresh, exciting and absolutely contemporary.