quête:parallel sound

Marc Romboy presents his upcoming album "Voyage de la planète' his first solo full-length production in over eight years. Released on his newly launched Hyperharmonic label, Voyage de la Plantète signifies an exciting new chapter for Marc as he experiments with his sound - pushing the boundaries between classical and electronic music to create both an emotional and atmospheric experience.


The first impression of this new sound can be heard on album opener forerunner 10" "Monde futuriste" (February 17th 2017) which blends together beautiful strings and soft flittering synths. "Jules Verne" named after the French science fiction writer, combines echoing arpeggios and a subtle woodwind harmony to create a cosmic soundscape. Whilst "Atome de danse", "Symphonie oblique" and "La machine du temps" use elegant strings to further enhance an unearthly effect, title track "Voyage de la planète" mixes the two mediums together with fluttering synths and somber strings before "La lune et l'étolie" builds introduces the bustling sound of the piano to create an upbeat melody.


Whilst there is a strong classical influence, there are tracks on the album that reference Marc's electronic background. This can be heard in

"L'univers étrange", which has an ambient sound, whilst pitched-down chords take "L'universe parallèle" to a dark and moody space.
"Phénix" is a bass-driven track, layered with crashing synths, taking the journey to a high before the celestial experience draws to a close on an uplifting note with "Nocturne" a laid-back soothing track that exudes optimism and wonderment.
Inspired by a concert with the Dortmund Philharmonic Orchestra where he performed Claude Debussy works in a contemporary way, "Voyage de la planète' signifies the start of a new chapter for Marc Romboy. Combining the strange, fascinating sounds of electronic music with the sublime beauty of classical music to create an extraordinary sonic experience for the listener.

2022 re-press, 180g vinyl

A monumental force firmly rooted in the soul canon, Willie Hutch is most notable for recording two of the best Blaxploitation soundtracks, The Mack and Foxy Brown. Yet his legacy is much greater. Outside of Marvin Gaye, Stevie Wonder and Smokey Robinson, Hutch was arguably Motown's top male solo artist of the 70s. Prior to his association with Gordy et al, Hutch crafted his opening statements for RCA, two vital LPs that Be With Records is honoured to present today.
Often-overlooked, his second album Season For Love (1970) is a must for all deep soul fans and has been sought-after by collectors of different stripes for decades. Whereas his debut featured thundering, gritty numbers, Hutch treats us to a mellower soul here - sumptuous, warm and string-led. He compared his approach to that of Otis Redding and there are definite parallels, from the raspy, rough-hewn vocals that tend to roam between sweet and deeply impassioned to the horn-heavy, emphatic sonic backdrops.
With flawless originals presented alongside a few well-chosen classics (his stunning cover of "Wichita Lineman" arguably bests the original's splendour), it's easy to see why sample-based musicians have been falling over themselves to plunder from this album. Witness the sweeping strings that grace "The Magic Of Love" and the heartbreaking "Walking On My Love", the mellifluous guitar work on the contemplative instrumental "The Shortest Distance" and gorgeous single "When A Boy Falls In Love".
Whilst the arrangements and playing are subtly jaw-dropping throughout, Hutch's uncontrived voice has a certain warmth to match a Nat "King" Cole and a purity of tone that even recalls the great Sam Cooke. Indeed, a few numbers are almost in a jazz vocal territory reminiscent of artists Lou Rawls. That's not to say that others lack the righteous energy and undeniable groove of Willie's later sound.
Remarkably consistent throughout - a rare commodity for many 70s soul albums - the lack of one signature song likely hindered its progress. Regardless, it deserved to make more of an impact and now, paired with the majestic debut, Soul Portrait, these recordings shine a new light on the early work of a soul legend.
Original vinyl copies of this album are extremely rare - and correspondingly expensive - so we're thrilled to present the first ever vinyl reissue of a true lost classic. This release is officially licensed and has been remastered for vinyl by our esteemed engineer Simon Francis. It has been pressed on audiophile 180g vinyl for the first time and features the original, rarely seen artwork.

"Still in shape, my methods refined", singt Paul Banks in "Toni", dem Eröffnungsstück und der ersten Single von Interpols siebtem Album "The Other Side of Make-Believe". Mit dem diesem Album betritt die Band Neuland: Parallel zur Erkundung der düsteren Unterströmungen des Zeitgeists sind die neuen Songs von Interpol von Sehnsucht und Anmut durchzogen. Daniel Kesslers Signature- Gitarren-Sound, Samuel Fogarinos messerscharfe Percussion-Präzision und Paul Banks sonore Stimme strahlen eine Verletzlichkeit aus, die viele langjährige Fans der Band überraschen dürfte. "Es gibt immer ein siebtes Mal für einen ersten Eindruck", so Banks darüber. Die Aufnahmen zu "The Other Side of Make-Believe" begannen im Jahr 2020 aus der Ferne heraus. Anfang 2021 trafen sich Interpol erneut, um in einem angemieteten Haus in den Catskills an neuem Material zu feilen, bevor sie es später im selben Jahr in Nordlondon fertigstellten. Dabei arbeiteten sie zum ersten Mal mit der Produzentenlegende Flood (Mark Ellis) zusammen und taten sich anschließend wieder mit dem ehemaligen Co-Produzenten Alan Moulder zusammen. Der Titel von "The Other Side of Make-Believe", das Cover und der lyrische Hang zu Fabeln, Nebelkerzen und der Wandelbarkeit der Wahrheit spiegeln Banks Abscheu vor den Verwerfungen des Informationszeitalters wider. Das Album wird sich im Bewusstsein der Interpol-Fans bald ebenso vertraut anfühlen, wie es für die Band bei den Aufnahmen zu der Platte der Fall war. Das Trio-Noir hat fast sieben Alben und mehrere Besetzungswechsel besser überstanden, als irgendjemand hätte vorhersagen können, und sich dabei nie selbst verloren. Heutzutage sind Interpol eine der am markantesten klingenden Rockbands des 21. Jahrhunderts. Seit nun mehr einem Vierteljahrhundert verfeinern Interpol ihre Methoden, womit sich dann auch der Kreis zum ersten Song des neuen Albums wieder schließt.

Rome’s own disco wizard L.U.C.A. aka Francesco De Bellis is back for his second LP Terra, hot on the heels of his Venus 12” EP earlier this year. In this far-reaching album, the Edizioni Mondo founder explores the deteriorating relationship between Man and Nature, and the dire consequences. The album is split into two themes - part one is Consacrazione (Consecration) and side two is Coscienza (Conscience) - as L.U.C.A. charts a trip through mankind’s psychic universe, and imagines worlds beyond our physical dimension.

The opening composition Cities is an uptempo number that slowly comes into focus, as dreamy drum machines emerge from the urban bustle, before settling into a soulful groove as keyboard, upright bass and guitar figures dance across bright percussion. As it builds up a head of steam, the piece gives way to an ambient, tribal breakdown, which is also echoed in the following song, Drum Talk. This second tune sets up in a fourth world dreamscape of drums, synths, and abstracted echo effects, and is peppered with word fragments from the bush of ghosts. By the time we’ve reached the third track, Congiunzione sounds like travelling at singularity speed, beaming in from a future where human consciousness and gaia can finally dance on a cosmic plain.

Part two of Terra details how revelation of the spirit can guide the mind, as Time Spirals rises out of a drum motif with a nod to classic ragas, as a disembodied voice asks questions on the nature of corporeality. The sound design is just as front and centre as the sitar and fretless bass, and the song gives way to a richly-layered soup that sounds like the vast space between atoms. It’s this shift from composition to ambience that is the dynamic core of Terra, giving L.U.C.A. plenty of space to showcase his next-level audio and arranging skills. Midway through part two, Giallo Assoluto begins with reverb tails and choral voices before expanding in brightness and texture until the audio field is practically levitating your hi-fi speakers, vibrating them with drones, twinkling keys and shards of digital noise. The closing composition Ritorno al Domani is a perfect balance of optimism and mystery. Tension and release collapse in on themselves as waves of ambient pads crescendo and then break over stretched-out sonic turbulence, before reversed synths bring the listener to a closing door, and the end of the journey.

It’s a mind-expanding musical exploration of other worlds and parallel universes which are surely all around us, and in many ways serve to remind us of the marvel that is our own planet.

In 1990 Ronald Lee Trent Jr. was the teenage creator of Altered States – a raw, futuristic techno-not-techno anthem, which in retrospect was something of a stylistic anomaly for the young artist. Across subsequent years, with time spent in Chicago, New York and Detroit, came the development of his signature sound, and renown as a world class purveyor of deep, soul infused house/garage. This story has already been told, and on casual inspection, the well-worn platitude ‘house music legend’ is an old shoe that still fits. However, in fact, he’s actually so much more, and has been for quite a while. A genuine musician, songwriter, and ‘producer’ in the proper, old-school sense, the artist today has more in common with Quincy Jones than he does your average journeyman DJ track-hack.

To those in the know, these broader skills haven’t gone unnoticed, which is why on the highly collaborative, career-topping new LP ‘What Do The Stars Say To You’, it took little persuasion to recruit serious star power. Brazilian royalty Ivan Conti and Alex Malheriros from Azymuth, violin maestro Jean Luc Ponty, ambient hero Gigi Masin, hype band Khruangbin and more performed, whilst NY cornerstone François K provided mastering duties. At various points Ron himself played drums, percussion, keys, synths, piano, guitar and electronics.

Harking back to the 70s and 80s boom in adventurous, luxurious albums, WDTSSTY is a love letter to the longplayer, where rich musicality and a liquid smooth, silky flow make seemingly odd genre bedfellows acquiesce harmoniously. Each song its own high-fidelity odyssey, Trent incorporated a broad range of live instruments and electronics into a sophisticated, euphonic whole. Described by him as being “designed for harmonising with spirit, urban life and nature”, this is aural soul food, gently easing you into balmy nights, where everything is alright.

Originally wanting to be an architect, Trent’s views his approach to collaboration and music in general as having the same principles. A firm believer in the nourishing qualities of sound, he sees direct parallels between the two disciplines, being as the purpose of good architecture is to improve quality of life. “With WARM, through sound design, I built frameworks for the musicians, who furnished and occupied these structures beautifully, which was a big compliment for me”, he comments.

The conditions required for a good collab are more than simply structural though, as Trent expounds, “I’m a huge fan of everyone on the record, especially Jean Luc and Azymuth, who’re part of my DNA. Each track was made with that guest in mind – for example, when I started writing ‘Sphere’, I immediately thought ‘this IS Ponty’. I played the keys in his style, and did a guide violin solo using a synth, which he then re-did, amazingly. ‘Cool Water’ is based around Azymuth themes, so when I sent it to Ivan, he could immediately see himself in the piece; He got what I was going for straight away. For ‘Melt Into You’ I hit up Alex on Instagram, sent him the track, he liked it, and within 24 hours he’d sent back six different bass passes!”
“Conversely, Admira began with a sketch sent by Gigi and became something combining Jon Hassell-esque chords and the feel of ‘Aquamarine’ by Carlos Santana, which links back to Masin’s recurrent nautical theme”, he adds.

With community, history and the need for racial equality never far from Ron’s mind, ‘Flos Potentia’ translates from Spanish as flower power, but rather than promoting some hippy idyll, instead it refers to plants which drove the slave trade: tobacco, sugar and cotton. Joined by Khruangbin, together they propel Dinosaur L, Hi-Tension and afrobeat into an ethereal, clear-skyed stratosphere.
Aside from these esteemed guests, other key influences cited by Trent include ‘Gigolos Get Lonely Too’ by Prince, ‘Beyond’ by Herb Alpert, David Mancuso, Jan Hammer, Tangerine Dream, The Cars, Trevor Horn, Alan Parsons Project and pre-Kraftwerk incarnation Organization. A multitude of others are audible too, including George Bension, Vangelis, Loose Ends, Maze, Flora Purim, Weather Report, Atmosphere, Grace Jones, James Mason and Brass Construction.

On the subject of influences, although opposed to the fences erected by genre tags, to understand where Ron is coming from, and where he’s at, it’s important to acknowledge just how big the palette is from which he paints. Traversing jazz funk, quiet storm, sophisti-pop, new age, new wave, kosmische, Balearic, samba, afrobeat, Latin rock, soft rock and yacht rock, his deeply entrenched digger’s knowledge pays off in dividends.

In 1990 Ronald Lee Trent Jr. was the teenage creator of Altered States – a raw, futuristic techno-not-techno anthem, which in retrospect was something of a stylistic anomaly for the young artist. Across subsequent years, with time spent in Chicago, New York and Detroit, came the development of his signature sound, and renown as a world class purveyor of deep, soul infused house/garage. This story has already been told, and on casual inspection, the well-worn platitude ‘house music legend’ is an old shoe that still fits. However, in fact, he’s actually so much more, and has been for quite a while. A genuine musician, songwriter, and ‘producer’ in the proper, old-school sense, the artist today has more in common with Quincy Jones than he does your average journeyman DJ track-hack.

To those in the know, these broader skills haven’t gone unnoticed, which is why on the highly collaborative, career-topping new LP ‘What Do The Stars Say To You’, it took little persuasion to recruit serious star power. Brazilian royalty Ivan Conti and Alex Malheriros from Azymuth, violin maestro Jean Luc Ponty, ambient hero Gigi Masin, hype band Khruangbin and more performed, whilst NY cornerstone François K provided mastering duties. At various points Ron himself played drums, percussion, keys, synths, piano, guitar and electronics.

Harking back to the 70s and 80s boom in adventurous, luxurious albums, WDTSSTY is a love letter to the longplayer, where rich musicality and a liquid smooth, silky flow make seemingly odd genre bedfellows acquiesce harmoniously. Each song its own high-fidelity odyssey, Trent incorporated a broad range of live instruments and electronics into a sophisticated, euphonic whole. Described by him as being “designed for harmonising with spirit, urban life and nature”, this is aural soul food, gently easing you into balmy nights, where everything is alright.

Originally wanting to be an architect, Trent’s views his approach to collaboration and music in general as having the same principles. A firm believer in the nourishing qualities of sound, he sees direct parallels between the two disciplines, being as the purpose of good architecture is to improve quality of life. “With WARM, through sound design, I built frameworks for the musicians, who furnished and occupied these structures beautifully, which was a big compliment for me”, he comments.

The conditions required for a good collab are more than simply structural though, as Trent expounds, “I’m a huge fan of everyone on the record, especially Jean Luc and Azymuth, who’re part of my DNA. Each track was made with that guest in mind – for example, when I started writing ‘Sphere’, I immediately thought ‘this IS Ponty’. I played the keys in his style, and did a guide violin solo using a synth, which he then re-did, amazingly. ‘Cool Water’ is based around Azymuth themes, so when I sent it to Ivan, he could immediately see himself in the piece; He got what I was going for straight away. For ‘Melt Into You’ I hit up Alex on Instagram, sent him the track, he liked it, and within 24 hours he’d sent back six different bass passes!”
“Conversely, Admira began with a sketch sent by Gigi and became something combining Jon Hassell-esque chords and the feel of ‘Aquamarine’ by Carlos Santana, which links back to Masin’s recurrent nautical theme”, he adds.

With community, history and the need for racial equality never far from Ron’s mind, ‘Flos Potentia’ translates from Spanish as flower power, but rather than promoting some hippy idyll, instead it refers to plants which drove the slave trade: tobacco, sugar and cotton. Joined by Khruangbin, together they propel Dinosaur L, Hi-Tension and afrobeat into an ethereal, clear-skyed stratosphere.
Aside from these esteemed guests, other key influences cited by Trent include ‘Gigolos Get Lonely Too’ by Prince, ‘Beyond’ by Herb Alpert, David Mancuso, Jan Hammer, Tangerine Dream, The Cars, Trevor Horn, Alan Parsons Project and pre-Kraftwerk incarnation Organization. A multitude of others are audible too, including George Bension, Vangelis, Loose Ends, Maze, Flora Purim, Weather Report, Atmosphere, Grace Jones, James Mason and Brass Construction.

On the subject of influences, although opposed to the fences erected by genre tags, to understand where Ron is coming from, and where he’s at, it’s important to acknowledge just how big the palette is from which he paints. Traversing jazz funk, quiet storm, sophisti-pop, new age, new wave, kosmische, Balearic, samba, afrobeat, Latin rock, soft rock and yacht rock, his deeply entrenched digger’s knowledge pays off in dividends.

Jodorowsky's Dune tells the tale of cult filmmaker Alejandro Jodorowsky's unsuccessful attempt to adapt Frank Herbert's classic sci-fi novel, Dune, to the big screen. Composer Kurt Stenzel gives life to a retro-futuristic universe as fantastic as Jodorowsky's own vision for his Dune-a film whose A-list cast would have included Salvador Dalí, Orson Welles, and Mick Jagger in starring roles and music by psychedelic prog-rockers Pink Floyd.

Building upon director Frank Pavich's idea for a score with a Tangerine Dream-type feel,' Stenzel lays out a cosmic arsenal of analog synthesizers that would make any collector green at the gills: among other gems are a rare Moog Source, CZ-101s, and a Roland Juno 6, as well as unorthodox instruments like a toy Concertmate organ and a Nintendo DS. I also played guitar and did vocals,' says Stenzel, some chanting... and some screaming, which comes naturally to me.' The score also features narration by Jodorowsky himself. As Stenzel notes, Jodo's voice is actually the soundtrack's main musical instrument-listening to him was almost like hypnosis, like going to the guru every night.'

This highly-anticipated soundtrack LP was sequenced and mixed by Stenzel with the listener in mind and flows through a four-sides' LP approach. I wanted it to play like the records I grew up with, where every side was a journey.'

Having initially met more than a decade ago at a local community radio station, sometimes doing guest slots on each other’s live, improvised noise shows, Cormac Culkeen and Dave Grenon knew they had a mutual interest in working with sonic textures. They listened to each other’s bands for a handful of years, and in 2017, “made good on a threat” that they’d been making for quite a long time: to start a band. At Cormac’s gentle but clear urging—declaring that they’d gone ahead and booked a space in which to record a video—the two wrote their first song, “Sebaldus,” an ambitious 12-minute trip, which also serves as the fireworks finale to their self-titled debut album. With surges of pathos that smooth out into something more soothing in turn, Cormac goes: “The hunter, you’ve seen him / The archer, his arrows are strong / And hunger, you’ve known her / I know the winter is long.” The track is as much about enduring a Canadian winter as it is about the eponymous 8th century hermit, shot through with sublimated desire. As Cormac put it, Joyful Joyful’s songs are “a little bit outside of time.” But while the lyrics beg close, oblique reading unto themselves, there’s also a distinct sense that they’re only one of many more ways that the duo shapes sound. Cormac, whose voice is like a sea with irregular tides, lights up about an idea in traditional sean-nós Irish music that songs already exist and are out there; it’s up to the singer to become the conduit. This belief in music as something to be channelled, and something more than sound, resonates with the singer’s fundamentalist religious past. To paraphrase: lots of group singing, harmonies, no instrumentation, totally unmediated, no priest, congregational—not choral, not a performance, not about talent, the spirit moves through people. “Of course that informs how I think about singing,” Cormac says. So, when they were exiled from the church because of their queerness, they took the music with them, dislocating it from its dogmatic bounds but not from its transcendent potential. This record might be thought of, then, as a kind of queering of sacred, devotional traditions—or at the very least, a space where all of these things can be held at once. Perhaps perceivable by some as contradictions, these intersecting influences create the conditions for an incredibly singular sound. Dave is steady and exploratory in his handling of this multiplicity, arranging sounds as they’re revealed, corralling them, coaxing them into form. “Because Dave is there,” Cormac says, “I get to sing three times higher, and three times lower, and faster, and backwards, and all of these sounds! That are there. They’re all there.” When asked about early musical memories, Cormac recalled an immediate fascination with harmony: from demanding that the first person they ever heard singing it explain what they were doing, to always (still, to this day) singing in harmony with their twin sister around the house, to being part of a children’s choir that sang soprano in Handel’s Messiah—not realizing until they entered the room with all the other ranges that their learned melody was but one part of the whole. Just as tellingly, Dave reflects on his early attraction to “abstraction and becoming abstract,” describing childhood afternoons messing with microphone and speaker feedback loops, producing long, enduring sounds with almost undetectable variations. In a way unique to the coalescing of these two listeners, notions of harmony are central to their output. Dave samples field recordings, old keyboards and synths, and vocal drones, running the live singing through four or five parallel effects chains, sampling and treating everything again in the moment. “Another way to put it is that Cormac’s voice comes into the board and then comes back out shifted, delayed, and shattered; Cormac and I hear it, live with it, and respond,” Dave says. This work is contingent not only on a deep intuition (neither of them read sheet music) of polyphony and due proportion (something St Thomas Aquinas famously listed as an attribute of beauty) but also on their connection to each other and ability to read subtle cues. Dave says they’d hold each other’s hands while performing if it was more convenient to do so, riffing on something else Cormac mentioned about traditional Irish singing: that someone would always hold the singer’s hand, for fear that without a tether to the ground they might find themselves utterly lost, unsure how to return. Joyful Joyful doesn’t shy away from offering such experiences of departure; they’re willing to unsettle their audiences because they themselves are unsettled. Their shared penchant for spooky, heavy music, and self-described “omnivorous” listening practices equip them with an array of sonic concepts that support this effort; Diamanda Galás, The Rankin Family, Pan Sonic, Pauline Oliveros, Keith Fullerton Whitman, Yma Sumac, and Catholic hymnody were just a few that came up. Observing their audience gives them insight about the effect of each song—something they considered while arranging the album. Its arc is marked by soft, sometimes sudden oscillations between cacophony and euphony, day and night (listen for insects), and from sexual, visceral entanglements to more ephemeral, celestial ones. Front to back, it arouses expansion, unraveling. Of lightning, Vicki Kirby writes: “quite curious initiation rites precede these electrical encounters. An intriguing communication, a sort of stuttering chatter between the ground and the sky, appears to anticipate the actual stroke.” By all accounts, something similar seems to happen at Joyful Joyful shows, between those on the stage and those off it, between what’s earthly and what’s beyond. “A lightning bolt is not a straightforward resolution of the buildup of a charge difference between the earth and a cloud … there is, as it were, some kind of nonlocal communication effected between the two,” writes Karen Barad, extrapolating on Kirby’s thought. Cormac acknowledges that while they and Dave play a role in this mysterious charge that comes about, they’re not solely responsible. However ineffable it may be, it’s undoubtedly a form of communion—and a sensuously shocking one at that

Fuchs is a band that never was. It vanished as quickly as it appeared in the picture, much like the animal that can be seen on this album and after whom it was named. In 2005, Kante singer and guitarist Peter Thiessen travelled to Weilheim to visit Markus and Micha Acher in their studio, where they were joined, among others, by Notwist-affiliated musicians like Cico Beck, Robert Klinger, Carl Oesterhelt and Stefan Schreiber. Spirits were high, but schedules were full: after a week of improvised sessions, everyone went their own way. The recordings gathered dust until Markus Acher found them again in 2021 while cleaning out his studio. After carefully re-evaluating the rough mixes, the musicians decided to finally release them. The resulting album comprises six tracks that musically draw on jazz, aesthetically lean on dub techniques and ideologically pick up on krautrock: there’s no solos to be heard on this record, just a few equally skilled and open-minded musicians listening to each other carefully, providing each other with space in which to unfold. »Fuchs« is a document of egos dissolving in a collective spirit.

Thiessen and the Acher brothers met in the 1990s and bonded not only over their shared background in hardcore music and the DIY ethos in which it was rooted, but also over their love for jazz. »If you look at those two things combined, you will eventually become convinced that you don’t have to be formally trained to make music that at least resembles jazz«, says Thiessen today. He invited Micha Acher to join his band Kante on flügelhorn in 2004 for a tour that saw the expanded group play unusual encores after the official concert was over. »Micha had taught us some dixie pieces, so night after night we would play a freestyle dixieland ska set in front of the remaining audience!« Naturally, the Acher brothers didn’t have to ask twice when they invited him for a visit in Weilheim to further explore their mutual interests in a studio setting. »I got on my way immediately and took two or three loose ideas, a tape echo and a guitar on whose headplate you could create fantastic sounds with me«, says Thiessen.

Between immersing themselves in books by the photographer Leonore Mau, cooking together and drinking the occasional fruit schnapps, the trio went into the studio. Says Thiessen, »Micha brought his flügelhorn and some wonderful ideas with him, Markus an Indian harmonium and a plan, Carl Oesterhelt came with a glockenspiel and a Chinese zither and a bunch of amazing jazz musicians joined in, too.« He considers the resulting recording sessions to be a kind of attempt at musically translating their conversations during those days. They discussed different approaches to jazz, whether sampling and musical miscitations can unlock ecstatic potentials and the possible parallels between syncretistic religions and pop music. »There’s traces of glossolalia, it's like a blurry séance«, adds Thiessen in regard to the sessions.

It is especially this spirit that managed to live on even though the recordings themselves were abandoned. »What we all liked most when listening back to the recordings is probably their marginal and fragmentary character, the empty spaces—the moments in which the virtuoso solo never comes, in which the centre remains empty.« The six pieces on »Fuchs« are chock-full of exactly these moments. When at one instant, the players seem to disperse and improvise freely, they always meet again on common ground a short time later, continuing on their way together. There are no conventions or even previous agreements that guide them, just a shared will to explore a vast range of curious sounds and unusual rhythms together as a truly unified constellation of very different musicians. Fuchs is a band that never was. Its ideas still reverberate vividly even 17 years later.

Rarely do two types of music meet on a level where they threaten to cancel each other out - let alone create something even more meaningful in their mutual vanishing. But the music created within the seminal Murder Ballads (Drift) by Martyn Bates (Eyeless in Gaza, & parallel solo career) and Mick Harris (Napalm Death, Lull, Painkiller, Scorn) creates just such a world. Murder Ballads (Drift) evolves Martyn Bates vocalisations / storytelling song-voices, by turns expressed as labyrinthine layers, calls and responses, muted and distant echoes, sung whispers and counter-melodies, ultimately resulting in a mesmeric conversation of musical inferences and correspondences. Murder Ballads (Drift) created the post-isolationist frame of reference, innovating and extemporising into a truly original dazzlingly unique form.

Mick Harris traffics in the isolationist ambience of Lull, while Martyn Bates is the emotive voice of literate cult-pop duo Eyeless in Gaza. The unlikely pair - one given to terminally frigid drone, the other to impassioned, bittersweet voicings - finds common ground in folk music's most macabre tradition, the murder ballad. These ghoulish parables are awash in blood and tears, the strands of love, hate, birth, death, sin, and salvation entwined within like the roots of an ancient tree. Mothers callously kill their children; suitors slay their maidens without remorse; and fate exacts its cruel price from all.

The archaic murder ballads that leak from Bates' vocal cords are intensely sad and carnal. They tend to leap off cliffs of hollow effects or drone darkly, offering neither a robust delivery nor an element of irony to take the edge off. The archetypal characters that live and die in them give life's full tragedy back to Harris' electronically numbed "post-isolationist" dreaming.

Drift (originally released in 1994) plays out an unbreakable and timeless cycle of bloody folklore (people) and hypnotic soundscapes (the god who watches). The effect is chilling yet engrossing. Where most ambient music has barely enough courage to ring the doorbell and run, Murder Ballads slips through the cracks of the unconscious and does its work with remarkable ease.

All the more reason to listen thoughtfully.

In 2021 - re-emerging nearly twenty years after its initial inception, and first time on vinyl - somewhat surprisingly, Murder Ballads (Drift) still remains/exists in an area overlooked by other artists, an area that truly still remains the sole province of M.J. Harris / Martyn Bates.

Rarely do two types of music meet on a level where they threaten to cancel each other out - let alone create something even more meaningful in their mutual vanishing. But the music created within the seminal Murder Ballads (Drift) by Martyn Bates (Eyeless in Gaza, & parallel solo career) and Mick Harris (Napalm Death, Lull, Painkiller, Scorn) creates just such a world. Murder Ballads (Drift) evolves Martyn Bates vocalisations / storytelling song-voices, by turns expressed as labyrinthine layers, calls and responses, muted and distant echoes, sung whispers and counter-melodies, ultimately resulting in a mesmeric conversation of musical inferences and correspondences. Murder Ballads (Drift) created the post-isolationist frame of reference, innovating and extemporising into a truly original dazzlingly unique form.

Mick Harris traffics in the isolationist ambience of Lull, while Martyn Bates is the emotive voice of literate cult-pop duo Eyeless in Gaza. The unlikely pair - one given to terminally frigid drone, the other to impassioned, bittersweet voicings - finds common ground in folk music's most macabre tradition, the murder ballad. These ghoulish parables are awash in blood and tears, the strands of love, hate, birth, death, sin, and salvation entwined within like the roots of an ancient tree. Mothers callously kill their children; suitors slay their maidens without remorse; and fate exacts its cruel price from all.

The archaic murder ballads that leak from Bates' vocal cords are intensely sad and carnal. They tend to leap off cliffs of hollow effects or drone darkly, offering neither a robust delivery nor an element of irony to take the edge off. The archetypal characters that live and die in them give life's full tragedy back to Harris' electronically numbed "post-isolationist" dreaming.

Passages (originally released in 1997) plays out an unbreakable and timeless cycle of bloody folklore (people) and hypnotic soundscapes (the god who watches). The effect is chilling yet engrossing. Where most ambient music has barely enough courage to ring the doorbell and run, Murder Ballads slips through the cracks of the unconscious and does its work with remarkable ease.

»Darkness & Abstract Art« is the debut single by Berlin based producer and songwriter Venetian Green. And what a debut it is. Two pop-pearls from a parallel universe, in which grand pop gestures of past decades live in harmony with the more bleak and disturbing emotional rollercoasters of recent times. The songs embrace a deep sense of nostalgia, while remaining firmly and confidently rooted within a contemporary pop context.

»Darkness« may be the most uplifting pop song ever that deals with mental health issues and depression. A topic that many can surely associate with after a challenging period of lockdowns and lack of perspective. The opening moments seem like a flirty exchange between an early Vince Clarke and Jake Shears but with a more bouncy and ›present-day‹ sound aesthetic. The bridge, »Was I ever in control, did my feelings just go rogue. Is it you or is it me, you’ve stolen my identity«, brings some major glam moments front and center and finally culminates in a heartbreaking auto-tuned chorus, an ode to the »Darkness« in all of our hearts.

In »Abstract Art«, we are jumping effortlessly between different musical eras. From late Roxy Music elegance to the plasticy melancholy of early Robyn all the way to the slow-rolling pop anthems of Christine and the Queens. A classic pop song about intimacy, trust, boundary issues and physical connection. Easy to imagine the line »You watch me dance with someone else, cause only you have me in strings and belts« on a sweaty recently re-opened dancefloor celebrating the return to a ›new normal‹.

Following a 15-year hiatus from publishing, Neapolitan techno's founding imprint - Conform Records - made an emphatic resurgence in 2020 to resume its intrinsic role in the progression of electronic music, ensuring that the genres' virtuous roots and formative values remained instilled within its future. Having re-released its entire back-catalogue in digital format from its original DAT distribution in the 90s, label head Gaetano Parisio now shifts his focus to the modern audience, with contemporary records that serve to marry these two golden eras of dance music.

Showcasing his immense theoretical knowledge and authenticity, earned through decades of experience in the industry, Parisio's latest project - his 6 part "Fragments 2930" EP - honours the meditative euphoria of Conform's early releases. Militant and driving in their effect, each cut presents its own melodious theme; running parallel to the strong percussive undercurrent of high impact techno that can be heard across the extended player. "Fragments 2930" was initially conceived as a single sound block and later fragmented into these 6 single units. As represented in its title, "Fragments 2930" also includes the catalogue numbers 29 and 30, with the double vinyl characteristic of a 2-release miniseries.

Available to purchase on vinyl from May 27th and across digital platforms on June 10th, Gaetano's latest release is further proof that the label's discography now only grows to hold more future classics.

Los Angeles-based experimental producer Al Lover will release his new studio album ‘Cosmic Joke’ on May 27th via Fuzz Club Records.
A staple of the global psychedelic scene, Lover has spent nearly a decade fine-tuning a broken, abstracted form of electronica that pools together a tapestry of trip-hop, synthesised krautrock, dub and dark ambient. Utilising an arsenal of samples, drum machine, analogue synths and live instrumentation, Lover’s is a kaleidoscopic sound that’s J-Dilla, DJ Shadow and Lee Scratch Perry by way of Brian Eno, Kraftwerk and Kluster. Central to Lover’s music is a desire to explore the fringes of psychedelic music and the common threads that run through its far-reaching styles, drawing elements from the past and connecting them to the future. Through the years he has released a number of studio albums and beat tapes, remixed the likes of Osees and Night Beats, been resident DJ for the Levitation and Desert Daze festivals and collaborated with the likes of Goat, Anton Newcombe, Cairo Liberation Front and White Fence. Now, Lover returns with his latest studio album, ‘Cosmic Joke’ – a series of synthesised philosophical meditations on modern life, in all its tragicomic absurdity. "'Cosmic Joke' came from observing the rising, compounded absurdity in recent years and seeing structures of normalcy dissolving. It’s my attempt to view these things as part of a higher-order process, through a metaphysical lens rather than an ideological one. It’s been an exercise in holding the paradoxical relationship of comedy and tragedy, joy and pain, growth and decay, scale and decline as part of an interlocked system that, at a deep level, is essential to how we interface with the world.”

Deluxe Edition is on 180g transparent green vinyl, gatefold sleeve, printed inner-sleeve.

Los Angeles-based experimental producer Al Lover will release his new studio album ‘Cosmic Joke’ on May 27th via Fuzz Club Records.
A staple of the global psychedelic scene, Lover has spent nearly a decade fine-tuning a broken, abstracted form of electronica that pools together a tapestry of trip-hop, synthesised krautrock, dub and dark ambient. Utilising an arsenal of samples, drum machine, analogue synths and live instrumentation, Lover’s is a kaleidoscopic sound that’s J-Dilla, DJ Shadow and Lee Scratch Perry by way of Brian Eno, Kraftwerk and Kluster. Central to Lover’s music is a desire to explore the fringes of psychedelic music and the common threads that run through its far-reaching styles, drawing elements from the past and connecting them to the future. Through the years he has released a number of studio albums and beat tapes, remixed the likes of Osees and Night Beats, been resident DJ for the Levitation and Desert Daze festivals and collaborated with the likes of Goat, Anton Newcombe, Cairo Liberation Front and White Fence. Now, Lover returns with his latest studio album, ‘Cosmic Joke’ – a series of synthesised philosophical meditations on modern life, in all its tragicomic absurdity. "'Cosmic Joke' came from observing the rising, compounded absurdity in recent years and seeing structures of normalcy dissolving. It’s my attempt to view these things as part of a higher-order process, through a metaphysical lens rather than an ideological one. It’s been an exercise in holding the paradoxical relationship of comedy and tragedy, joy and pain, growth and decay, scale and decline as part of an interlocked system that, at a deep level, is essential to how we interface with the world.”

The second LP by California rock n roll unit SPICE expands their palette of damaged anthems and addiction poetics with a more bristling, visceral sound, distilled from years in the trenches of bands, break-ups, and breakdowns. Singer Ross Farrar explains their chemistry succinctly: "We all got in a room and this is what came out." Viv is named for a precursor project of bassist Cody Sullivan and violinist Victoria Skudlarek, but also alludes to broader notions of vividness, sonic, visual, and otherwise. Engineered by Jack Shirley and mixed/mastered by Sam Pura in Oakland, the mix achieves that rare balance of every element being elevated but distinct, with voices, strings, and drums each given space to blaze parallel paths. Opener "Recovery" captures SPICE at their stormy, weathered best, booming drums and East Bay riffs skidding out in a rockslide of rapture, regret, and bruised melody ("You sacrifice perfect days to laugh through the night / you have to get out of bed / and it's hard / and it's hard / it's so hard to admit"), peaking in Ian Simpson's poignant single-note vibrato guitar solo; Farrar agrees: "The guitar says what we cannot." Other tracks embrace the group's shredded pop potential ("Any Day Now," "Dining Out," "Live Scene") and their speedway ripper mode ("Threnody"), with detours into oblique instrumentals ("Melody Drive") and orchestral balladeering ("Ashes In The Birdbath"). But what unites and ignites these songs across different energies and arrangements is their specific sense of emotion. Rawness refined into reckonings, approaching truth, born of cold mornings, bad luck, and too many wrong turns. Waking up where you're not supposed to be, living a life you don't recognize. The album ends with no end to its narrative, still fighting, still slipping. Farrar calls "Climbing Down The Ladder" a "relapse song - telling people you're okay but you're still fucking up." Heartbeat drums march under heartbroken guitars in an elegant downward spiral of defeat, delusion, and desperate hope, dreamed more than believed: "I said it was the last time / but I was up so high / 100 miles / 1000 miles / no me in sight / I saw into the next life / I wasn't dead / I felt so vivid in the next life."

The second LP by California rock n roll unit SPICE expands their palette of damaged anthems and addiction poetics with a more bristling, visceral sound, distilled from years in the trenches of bands, break-ups, and breakdowns. Singer Ross Farrar explains their chemistry succinctly: "We all got in a room and this is what came out." Viv is named for a precursor project of bassist Cody Sullivan and violinist Victoria Skudlarek, but also alludes to broader notions of vividness, sonic, visual, and otherwise. Engineered by Jack Shirley and mixed/mastered by Sam Pura in Oakland, the mix achieves that rare balance of every element being elevated but distinct, with voices, strings, and drums each given space to blaze parallel paths. Opener "Recovery" captures SPICE at their stormy, weathered best, booming drums and East Bay riffs skidding out in a rockslide of rapture, regret, and bruised melody ("You sacrifice perfect days to laugh through the night / you have to get out of bed / and it's hard / and it's hard / it's so hard to admit"), peaking in Ian Simpson's poignant single-note vibrato guitar solo; Farrar agrees: "The guitar says what we cannot." Other tracks embrace the group's shredded pop potential ("Any Day Now," "Dining Out," "Live Scene") and their speedway ripper mode ("Threnody"), with detours into oblique instrumentals ("Melody Drive") and orchestral balladeering ("Ashes In The Birdbath"). But what unites and ignites these songs across different energies and arrangements is their specific sense of emotion. Rawness refined into reckonings, approaching truth, born of cold mornings, bad luck, and too many wrong turns. Waking up where you're not supposed to be, living a life you don't recognize. The album ends with no end to its narrative, still fighting, still slipping. Farrar calls "Climbing Down The Ladder" a "relapse song - telling people you're okay but you're still fucking up." Heartbeat drums march under heartbroken guitars in an elegant downward spiral of defeat, delusion, and desperate hope, dreamed more than believed: "I said it was the last time / but I was up so high / 100 miles / 1000 miles / no me in sight / I saw into the next life / I wasn't dead / I felt so vivid in the next life."

After more than two decades flexing his muscles on the local underground scene and gaining a legendary cult status on his Tenerife home turf, the island’s most famous postman, as he’s affectionately known by his consorts, Tomás de la Rosa aka Postman breaks radio silence to bulldoze his way through the canyons surrounding his hometown of Santa Cruz into an unknown and unsuspecting world. We present thus, Postman’s first ever album of original bangers, micro chopped two steppers and rage induced breakbeat anthems.

Constructed over the course of global confinement, Seeds of Light marks a return to creative activity from the man who regularly delivers your post (its not just a random artist name). Postman aka Tomás de la Rosa has taken his time, compiling sketches and unfinished songs, rummaging through the deep ends of his hardrive, stitching early production sketches with recent compositions, revising, reediting and rebuilding with a more mature and concise attitude, eventually completing, almost unintentionally, the perfect self referential retrospective album. Far from being just a compilation album, Tomás managed to create an explosive document, suspended in time, in which styles are intertwined regardless of fashions and fads – letting go of the ‘modern’ or ‘up to date’ burden - so common these days in electronic music.

It is not an easy album, like many of his previous work it demands extra attention to experience the full crystallization of his complex sound structures. We find ourselves in front of a truly surgically precise work of art whose result comes as a waterproof war machine, refined and incisive, resonating deep with soul and groove.

Postman develops his sound palette throughout the album from very basic sound snippets into a concrete dance world of synthetic sounds eventually creating a parallel reality where J. Dilla could be living in Chemnitz instead of Detroit and releasing records for a label called Raster-Throw. Glitch sampladelics!

Incursions into Grime are also abundant with nods to the ineffable East Man, reunions with his beloved Funkstörung or many other stimulating revisions of lifelong genres and breaks populate this multidimensional sound space, see soul, dancehall, breakbeat, two step and the UK hardcore continuum.

Special mention to the magnificent fluid artwork by the very talented Catalan visual artist Alba de Corral. A still photo from one of her kinetic AI systems programmed directly in code, which matches perfectly the essence of Postman's brutalist alien sound.

Vinyl limited to 200 copies

Two years and one pandemic after his previous release, the Italian, London-based solo project M!R!M is back with a new full- length album.

Inspired by the synth pop classics, as well as from cold and dark waves, multi-instrumentalist Jack Milwaukee has been releasing material on labels such as Fabrika and Manic Depression until his first record on Avant! ”The Visionary” back in 2020.

On April 22 his fourth LP ”Time Traitor” will be released and we’re excited to say this is Milwaukee’s most personal job to date.

If you are familiar with his work, you know the DIY/lo-fi approach of his first recordings was already gone with his previous LP but these new ten recordings dig even deeper, drawing the outlines of a fantasy world lost within the foggy memories of a collective childhood.

Possibly locked in his bedroom for the necessary time, Milwaukee has been able to recreate an imaginative realm of 80’s FM suggestions, scattering a number of acoustic clues from different parts of this parallel, yet so familiar dimension. It’s almost like M!R!M is sending us a message in a bottle with each of these new tracks and each message tells a different story.
Post Fight has a punchy pop-punk riff drove by solid synthwave beats, Faultless Pitch hosts a mellow, funky bass line over a solemn drum gate, Desert Love screams italo like nothing else and it was indeed composed four-handed with fellow artists Nuovo Testamento, Say Nothing features SDH singer Andrea Pérez’s backing vocals to invoke a dream-like scenario.
There is even a Turquoise Days’ Grey Skies cover that is just one more perfect example of Milwaukee’s ability to take a single item from the suitcase of the past and make it extremely current in a handful of minutes.

All this is adorned by semi-instrumental postcards with suggestive names such as Moody Moon, Peninsula and Goodnight Galaxie that will guide you through this journey across M!R!M sound-&-memory experience.

"Parallel Universe Blues" has a sound that is intimate and close, nicely balancing the sonic concerns of the last few Papercuts records: perfect 60s- flavored pop songs echoed down through The Velvet Underground, LA's Paisley Underground, Spiritualized and The Jesus and Mary Chain.