Buscar:park place

"The album was created in this back and forth of snapshots - we made most of the decisions impulsively without much questioning. That takes a lot of trust." — Violeta García & Hora Lunga

"I'll Wait For You In The Car Park", the first full length collaboration between Argentinian cellist, improviser and composer Violeta García and Swiss musician and composer Hora Lunga, is a work of extremes. Drawing from the realities of life on two continents, and embodying moods ranging from stoic desire to violent bursts, the album enciphers so-called ordinary moments from everyday life into an alluring collection of musical scenes. Seemingly inconspicuous moments are condensed into a tale of synchronicity: colliding time zones and seasons, metropolitan rhythms raining down onto a glacier's ice field, exploring places through street view, the serendipity of loitering at a kiosk. As such, "I'll Wait For You In The Car Park" brings documentary film essays to mind that carefully observe the private and everyday occurrences.
Violeta García and Hora Lunga crossed paths by chance in 2023 and began discussing and sharing music shortly afterwards. What started as a loose exchange of ideas, sending back and forth sketches and demos between South America and Europe, grew into several studio sessions in 2024. Being sucked into a "quite extraordinary flow", the two musicians recorded, arranged and intervened on a level playing field, using the studio as a playground to record musical layers and interweave them with field recordings and audio notes gathered over the course of a year. Speaking a kindred musical language, they quickly realized how their ideas clung to each other like two familiar souls, complementing, intertwining and merging. From gauzy and eerie textures, musical miniatures floating through time, howling and screaming strings, to tumbling and thundering basses – the sound of the ordinary shapes a body that vibrates, writhes and breathes.

Violeta García is a cellist, improviser and composer from Buenos Aires, Argentina. Based in Spain, she tours a lot with her band Blanco Teta. She is a performer in many art forms, including free improvisation, contemporary and trans-media experimental repertoire in violoncello and electronics and collaborations with dancers, film makers and visual artists. After years of studying classical and popular music on violoncello and, later, contemporary composition and improvisation, Violeta has developed her own musical voice needed to emerge beyond outside specific genres.

Throughout Swiss composer and musician Hora Lunga's work, the focus lies is on exploring boundaries, both musically and in terms of performance and content. Above all, genre designations lose all meaning, as the music always takes place within a dramaturgically conceived overall framework. In recent years, his projects have ranged from pop music productions to experimental works and sound performances, as well astheatre and film productions. His ensemble WIRREN consists of up to fifteen performers.

Fly Anakin is a rapper and producer who approaches his craft in a way few contemporaries can. Vigilant yet unorthodox, DIY-minded yet prolific, the Richmond, Virginia multihyphenate’s razor-sharp lyrics, ear for soulful production, and collaborative synergy are the result of over a decade of fundamental mastery. Described by Madlib as “one of the illest MCs,” the Mutant Academy cofounder was in his pocket well ahead of his acclaimed solo debut, Frank (2022). After years of consistent releases with his collective, Anakin broke major ground in 2020 with his and Pink Siifu’s joint project FlySiifu’s, followed by their $mokebreak EP in 2021. A student of the East Coast’s golden age, Anakin transmutes its spirit into music that’s both classicist and pioneering, having worked with the likes of Freddie Gibbs, redveil, BbyMutha, and MAVI. With the release of a Mutant Academy debut album completed, and his solo album (The) Forever Dream imminent, Anakin has cemented his place as a leader in rap’s underground Renaissance.(The) Forever Dream commemorates a new era of freedom for Anakin, who rarely approaches bodies of work without a preconceived concept. Executive produced by Quelle Chris, the project, which features the likes of Denmark Vessey, The Alchemist, BbyMutha, and Pink Siifu, includes songs that Anakin believes are some of his most experimental and ambitious. “The album is me and Quelle kicking it, smoking, learning each other, and playing video games,” he says of the project’s inspiration and recording process. “It was time to make some mindless music, to tackle production I would’ve otherwise picked up.” The long anticipated project comes after years of Anakin and Quelle developing a strong rapport, stemming back to 2019. “Quelle is one of the best collaborators ever—he’s not biased but he knows what he likes, open minded but stubborn at the right times,” Anakin says of his collaborative relationship with the Grammy nominated producer. “On the low we just alike but polar opposites, we can do no wrong together.”

Fly Anakin is a rapper and producer who approaches his craft in a way few contemporaries can. Vigilant yet unorthodox, DIY-minded yet prolific, the Richmond, Virginia multihyphenate’s razor-sharp lyrics, ear for soulful production, and collaborative synergy are the result of over a decade of fundamental mastery. Described by Madlib as “one of the illest MCs,” the Mutant Academy cofounder was in his pocket well ahead of his acclaimed solo debut, Frank (2022). After years of consistent releases with his collective, Anakin broke major ground in 2020 with his and Pink Siifu’s joint project FlySiifu’s, followed by their $mokebreak EP in 2021. A student of the East Coast’s golden age, Anakin transmutes its spirit into music that’s both classicist and pioneering, having worked with the likes of Freddie Gibbs, redveil, BbyMutha, and MAVI. With the release of a Mutant Academy debut album completed, and his solo album (The) Forever Dream imminent, Anakin has cemented his place as a leader in rap’s underground Renaissance.(The) Forever Dream commemorates a new era of freedom for Anakin, who rarely approaches bodies of work without a preconceived concept. Executive produced by Quelle Chris, the project, which features the likes of Denmark Vessey, The Alchemist, BbyMutha, and Pink Siifu, includes songs that Anakin believes are some of his most experimental and ambitious. “The album is me and Quelle kicking it, smoking, learning each other, and playing video games,” he says of the project’s inspiration and recording process. “It was time to make some mindless music, to tackle production I would’ve otherwise picked up.” The long anticipated project comes after years of Anakin and Quelle developing a strong rapport, stemming back to 2019. “Quelle is one of the best collaborators ever—he’s not biased but he knows what he likes, open minded but stubborn at the right times,” Anakin says of his collaborative relationship with the Grammy nominated producer. “On the low we just alike but polar opposites, we can do no wrong together.”

Fly Anakin is a rapper and producer who approaches his craft in a way few contemporaries can. Vigilant yet unorthodox, DIY-minded yet prolific, the Richmond, Virginia multihyphenate’s razor-sharp lyrics, ear for soulful production, and collaborative synergy are the result of over a decade of fundamental mastery. Described by Madlib as “one of the illest MCs,” the Mutant Academy cofounder was in his pocket well ahead of his acclaimed solo debut, Frank (2022). After years of consistent releases with his collective, Anakin broke major ground in 2020 with his and Pink Siifu’s joint project FlySiifu’s, followed by their $mokebreak EP in 2021. A student of the East Coast’s golden age, Anakin transmutes its spirit into music that’s both classicist and pioneering, having worked with the likes of Freddie Gibbs, redveil, BbyMutha, and MAVI. With the release of a Mutant Academy debut album completed, and his solo album (The) Forever Dream imminent, Anakin has cemented his place as a leader in rap’s underground Renaissance.(The) Forever Dream commemorates a new era of freedom for Anakin, who rarely approaches bodies of work without a preconceived concept. Executive produced by Quelle Chris, the project, which features the likes of Denmark Vessey, The Alchemist, BbyMutha, and Pink Siifu, includes songs that Anakin believes are some of his most experimental and ambitious. “The album is me and Quelle kicking it, smoking, learning each other, and playing video games,” he says of the project’s inspiration and recording process. “It was time to make some mindless music, to tackle production I would’ve otherwise picked up.” The long anticipated project comes after years of Anakin and Quelle developing a strong rapport, stemming back to 2019. “Quelle is one of the best collaborators ever—he’s not biased but he knows what he likes, open minded but stubborn at the right times,” Anakin says of his collaborative relationship with the Grammy nominated producer. “On the low we just alike but polar opposites, we can do no wrong together.”

Teen Jesus and the Jean Teasers are a powerhouse, celebrated for their raw emotion and incisive social observations. Their talent has earned them nominations for Best Independent Punk Album or EP at the AIR Awards, Emerging Songwriter of the Year and Song of the Year at the APRA Awards, along with nods from the J Awards and Rolling Stone Awards. Recognised as Spotify's RADAR Artist, their rising global influence is undeniable.

Following their award winning 2022 EP, Pretty Good For A Girl Band, their debut album I Love You charted at number 6 on the ARIA Albums Chart, marking a significant milestone. The accompanying tour saw them sell out iconic venues like 170 Russell in Melbourne, the Metro Theatre in Sydney, and The Triffid in Brisbane. They capped off the year supporting the Foo Fighters at AAMI Park in Melbourne and launched into 2024 by supporting The Vaccines across the EU/UK. They will support Pearl Jam on select dates in the United States mid-2025.

I Love You showcases the bands growth, with each member contributing to songwriting. It stands as a definitive statement of their sound—joy, rage, and euphoria, delivered with precision and heart. Teen Jesus and the Jean Teasers continue to make waves, solidifying their place in the music industry.

Kneading dough is tricky – you should know how it’s supposed to feel. If you try too hard you could make it worse. It’s a beautiful practice – creation with a gentle touch, to work at something so it can be left alone. “If it’s too drawn out it’s awful. It’s easy to give too much.” Dance in the mirror. Contemplate your veiny hands. Who do they remind you of?

You begin by mixing flour and water. “What happens when your people die? Why’d they move the rock to the other side of Ulster Park?” Eliza Niemi asks two seemingly unrelated questions in a rising melody with guitar accompaniment, like fingers playing spider up to the nape of your neck. Gentle pressure. Strands of gluten form to bind the mix. A new question lingers in the binding. When she admits “but I don’t know how to tell if I’m feeling it or not,” that question surfaces through the text. It is reiterated throughout the album. When I’m working with dough I think the same thing to myself.

On Progress Bakery, her second album as a solo artist, Eliza knows to leave some questions alone – to let juxtaposition and tension be the proof. It doesn’t have to be hard. The feelings and revelations they provoke rise in the heat. The smell is sweet. Crispy on the outside and soft all the way through. She playfully slip-slides through words and sounds and images, delighting in surprise, skimming ideas like stones cast across clear water, touching down briefly with uncommon grace.

The question provoked between those opening lines resurfaces in the strands between songs – “Do U FM” is fully formed and beautifully layered, while “Novelist Sad Face” is a short, acapella rendering of gentle curiosity. What is holding these ideas together? Some songs demand more, seem to carry a whole load – eventually the skipping stone will halt to sink and resume its idle duty – while others drift in and out of focus, the way thoughts and dreams become interwoven before the mind is sunk into true sleep.

Music and words don’t always have to interact. Where she decides to keep them apart gives a new contour to where and how she puts them together. The kind of thing you’re supposed to take for granted with songs and their singers comes alive in Eliza’s hands – the little miracle of mixing, kneading, stretching, and stopping.

So often on Progress Bakery, Eliza teases out truth and meaning by asking questions. “Do I wanna be crying?” “Do you want me good or do you want me bad?” “Do I need an eye test?” “I’m writing songs in my head while you’re going over stuff with me — is that cruel??” In “Pocky” Eliza ends with a question that feels to me like the actual biography, succinct and revealing:

I don’t wanna be made to see
I just wanna ask “what’s that?”

Grace that ought to be rare, but in its care and precision is offered humbly, with great generosity, and without announcing itself. Eliza’s simple, miraculous music is given further form and shape by a group of collaborators – invaluable guest musicians Jeremy Ray, Evan Cartwright, Steven McPhail, Kenny Boothby, Ed Squires, Carolina Chauffe, Dorothea Paas, Louie Short, and Avalon Tassonyi. Together with Louie Short, who recorded, mixed, and produced the album along with Jeremy Ray and Lukas Cheung, Eliza has cultivated a richness in sound and texture that prods and provokes the ticklish ear. Barely audible guitar tinkering, a brief lo-fi field recording of trumpets, the harmonic clicking of a looped synthesizer, a flourish of reeds, a child’s conversation, each uncanny sound perfectly placed, rippling out under a soft breeze.

Lay in bed alone at night and ask aloud to the stillness,

“What were you doing at the Albuquerque Airport?
What were you doing there??”

And hear your question answered by a dream of swelling, undulating cellos. Try to grasp at the melody and structure. It’s not an answer (if there could be one), but it moves deeper, closer to the weird layer of fleeting moments and disconnected images, barely perceptible at its core. Wait for the dream reel to click into place.

Eliza took me for a ride in Nicole (her beloved Dodge Grand Caravan) and told me she’d been thinking of the album as an embodiment of transition – and I think every transition, known or unknown, carries the weight of new meaning, skittering off the surface tension of life as you know it, creating ripples, sometimes bouncing off and sometimes breaking through. There is a trick you can use to tell if a dough is glutinous enough. You’re supposed to stretch it out as thin as you can without breaking it and hold it up to the light. If you can see through, even if it renders the world murky and uncertain, you should leave it alone. I love this trick. It’s one that Eliza seems to know intuitively: work gently and ask questions and don’t always expect answers, and when you can, take a glimpse at something new, and then leave.

Kneading dough is tricky – you should know how it’s supposed to feel. If you try too hard you could make it worse. It’s a beautiful practice – creation with a gentle touch, to work at something so it can be left alone. “If it’s too drawn out it’s awful. It’s easy to give too much.” Dance in the mirror. Contemplate your veiny hands. Who do they remind you of?

You begin by mixing flour and water. “What happens when your people die? Why’d they move the rock to the other side of Ulster Park?” Eliza Niemi asks two seemingly unrelated questions in a rising melody with guitar accompaniment, like fingers playing spider up to the nape of your neck. Gentle pressure. Strands of gluten form to bind the mix. A new question lingers in the binding. When she admits “but I don’t know how to tell if I’m feeling it or not,” that question surfaces through the text. It is reiterated throughout the album. When I’m working with dough I think the same thing to myself.

On Progress Bakery, her second album as a solo artist, Eliza knows to leave some questions alone – to let juxtaposition and tension be the proof. It doesn’t have to be hard. The feelings and revelations they provoke rise in the heat. The smell is sweet. Crispy on the outside and soft all the way through. She playfully slip-slides through words and sounds and images, delighting in surprise, skimming ideas like stones cast across clear water, touching down briefly with uncommon grace.

The question provoked between those opening lines resurfaces in the strands between songs – “Do U FM” is fully formed and beautifully layered, while “Novelist Sad Face” is a short, acapella rendering of gentle curiosity. What is holding these ideas together? Some songs demand more, seem to carry a whole load – eventually the skipping stone will halt to sink and resume its idle duty – while others drift in and out of focus, the way thoughts and dreams become interwoven before the mind is sunk into true sleep.

Music and words don’t always have to interact. Where she decides to keep them apart gives a new contour to where and how she puts them together. The kind of thing you’re supposed to take for granted with songs and their singers comes alive in Eliza’s hands – the little miracle of mixing, kneading, stretching, and stopping.

So often on Progress Bakery, Eliza teases out truth and meaning by asking questions. “Do I wanna be crying?” “Do you want me good or do you want me bad?” “Do I need an eye test?” “I’m writing songs in my head while you’re going over stuff with me — is that cruel??” In “Pocky” Eliza ends with a question that feels to me like the actual biography, succinct and revealing:

I don’t wanna be made to see
I just wanna ask “what’s that?”

Grace that ought to be rare, but in its care and precision is offered humbly, with great generosity, and without announcing itself. Eliza’s simple, miraculous music is given further form and shape by a group of collaborators – invaluable guest musicians Jeremy Ray, Evan Cartwright, Steven McPhail, Kenny Boothby, Ed Squires, Carolina Chauffe, Dorothea Paas, Louie Short, and Avalon Tassonyi. Together with Louie Short, who recorded, mixed, and produced the album along with Jeremy Ray and Lukas Cheung, Eliza has cultivated a richness in sound and texture that prods and provokes the ticklish ear. Barely audible guitar tinkering, a brief lo-fi field recording of trumpets, the harmonic clicking of a looped synthesizer, a flourish of reeds, a child’s conversation, each uncanny sound perfectly placed, rippling out under a soft breeze.

Lay in bed alone at night and ask aloud to the stillness,

“What were you doing at the Albuquerque Airport?
What were you doing there??”

And hear your question answered by a dream of swelling, undulating cellos. Try to grasp at the melody and structure. It’s not an answer (if there could be one), but it moves deeper, closer to the weird layer of fleeting moments and disconnected images, barely perceptible at its core. Wait for the dream reel to click into place.

Eliza took me for a ride in Nicole (her beloved Dodge Grand Caravan) and told me she’d been thinking of the album as an embodiment of transition – and I think every transition, known or unknown, carries the weight of new meaning, skittering off the surface tension of life as you know it, creating ripples, sometimes bouncing off and sometimes breaking through. There is a trick you can use to tell if a dough is glutinous enough. You’re supposed to stretch it out as thin as you can without breaking it and hold it up to the light. If you can see through, even if it renders the world murky and uncertain, you should leave it alone. I love this trick. It’s one that Eliza seems to know intuitively: work gently and ask questions and don’t always expect answers, and when you can, take a glimpse at something new, and then leave.

Kneading dough is tricky – you should know how it’s supposed to feel. If you try too hard you could make it worse. It’s a beautiful practice – creation with a gentle touch, to work at something so it can be left alone. “If it’s too drawn out it’s awful. It’s easy to give too much.” Dance in the mirror. Contemplate your veiny hands. Who do they remind you of?

You begin by mixing flour and water. “What happens when your people die? Why’d they move the rock to the other side of Ulster Park?” Eliza Niemi asks two seemingly unrelated questions in a rising melody with guitar accompaniment, like fingers playing spider up to the nape of your neck. Gentle pressure. Strands of gluten form to bind the mix. A new question lingers in the binding. When she admits “but I don’t know how to tell if I’m feeling it or not,” that question surfaces through the text. It is reiterated throughout the album. When I’m working with dough I think the same thing to myself.

On Progress Bakery, her second album as a solo artist, Eliza knows to leave some questions alone – to let juxtaposition and tension be the proof. It doesn’t have to be hard. The feelings and revelations they provoke rise in the heat. The smell is sweet. Crispy on the outside and soft all the way through. She playfully slip-slides through words and sounds and images, delighting in surprise, skimming ideas like stones cast across clear water, touching down briefly with uncommon grace.

The question provoked between those opening lines resurfaces in the strands between songs – “Do U FM” is fully formed and beautifully layered, while “Novelist Sad Face” is a short, acapella rendering of gentle curiosity. What is holding these ideas together? Some songs demand more, seem to carry a whole load – eventually the skipping stone will halt to sink and resume its idle duty – while others drift in and out of focus, the way thoughts and dreams become interwoven before the mind is sunk into true sleep.

Music and words don’t always have to interact. Where she decides to keep them apart gives a new contour to where and how she puts them together. The kind of thing you’re supposed to take for granted with songs and their singers comes alive in Eliza’s hands – the little miracle of mixing, kneading, stretching, and stopping.

So often on Progress Bakery, Eliza teases out truth and meaning by asking questions. “Do I wanna be crying?” “Do you want me good or do you want me bad?” “Do I need an eye test?” “I’m writing songs in my head while you’re going over stuff with me — is that cruel??” In “Pocky” Eliza ends with a question that feels to me like the actual biography, succinct and revealing:

I don’t wanna be made to see
I just wanna ask “what’s that?”

Grace that ought to be rare, but in its care and precision is offered humbly, with great generosity, and without announcing itself. Eliza’s simple, miraculous music is given further form and shape by a group of collaborators – invaluable guest musicians Jeremy Ray, Evan Cartwright, Steven McPhail, Kenny Boothby, Ed Squires, Carolina Chauffe, Dorothea Paas, Louie Short, and Avalon Tassonyi. Together with Louie Short, who recorded, mixed, and produced the album along with Jeremy Ray and Lukas Cheung, Eliza has cultivated a richness in sound and texture that prods and provokes the ticklish ear. Barely audible guitar tinkering, a brief lo-fi field recording of trumpets, the harmonic clicking of a looped synthesizer, a flourish of reeds, a child’s conversation, each uncanny sound perfectly placed, rippling out under a soft breeze.

Lay in bed alone at night and ask aloud to the stillness,

“What were you doing at the Albuquerque Airport?
What were you doing there??”

And hear your question answered by a dream of swelling, undulating cellos. Try to grasp at the melody and structure. It’s not an answer (if there could be one), but it moves deeper, closer to the weird layer of fleeting moments and disconnected images, barely perceptible at its core. Wait for the dream reel to click into place.

Eliza took me for a ride in Nicole (her beloved Dodge Grand Caravan) and told me she’d been thinking of the album as an embodiment of transition – and I think every transition, known or unknown, carries the weight of new meaning, skittering off the surface tension of life as you know it, creating ripples, sometimes bouncing off and sometimes breaking through. There is a trick you can use to tell if a dough is glutinous enough. You’re supposed to stretch it out as thin as you can without breaking it and hold it up to the light. If you can see through, even if it renders the world murky and uncertain, you should leave it alone. I love this trick. It’s one that Eliza seems to know intuitively: work gently and ask questions and don’t always expect answers, and when you can, take a glimpse at something new, and then leave.

Goodtunes is back and this time with a highly regarded compilation of various artists.

Kicking off this label’s second release we have Mungo Sound Machine. Positioned as the A1, ‘See You Next Thursday’ functions as one of the heavier tracks on the release. With a downright dirty bass line, crisp percussion, and creative arrangement, this track tells a story that will never get old.

On the A2, comes ultra-talented friend of the label and NYC resident, Chuwee. Here he delivers with a magical evening steamer in ‘DX Tornado’. Shuffled drums and a deep rolling bass line accompanied with funky stabs and tripped out Japanese vocals are the perfect combination to start a party or keep it going.

J. Feierabend is no stranger to the punch. Sharp and ripe kicks, snares and a thick bass line drive this clubby groover to great heights. Bright vocoders and tech’d out bleeps take this one step further. When it comes to being simple but effective, the B1 ‘Listen’ knocks it out of the park.

Lastly, worlds collide from the Berlin to Paris link-up between Natebytheway and Local DJ. Crafted on a sunny day during the Olympics in Paris, this collaboration is a gentle taste of the deep and clubby combination the two producers love. Techy, gritty and soft in all the right places. Let ‘PB Saucers’ and the others aforementioned take you and your loved ones to brighter places.

The follow-up to their eponymous 2022 debut album, ‘What Is Your Definition Of Happiness?’ finds Dubinski broadening their sonic palette with the help of Grammy award winning producers Mike Horner (Franz Ferdinand, Placebo, Hot Chip) and Robbie Nelson (Beck, Royal Blood, The Kooks). Across an album themed around the concept of happiness you’ll find tales of crushed dreams, doomed romance and the perils of trying to survive as a DIY live band, all set to a compelling suite of bulletproof melodies which fuse elements of Franz Ferdinand, Parquet Courts, The Clash, Maximo Park, and even Paul Simon.

“A lot of these songs have something bittersweet to them,” says vocalist Eugene. “It’s a record of love, happiness, pain, sorrow, grief, healing, growth and acceptance. We wanted to tell a story with this album, and it flows similar to the way the seasons change.”

ŽUR (‘Zhure’, party) is absolute cult and one of the most rare Yugoslavian disco funk albums, originally recorded in 1981, reissued on Everland Music for the first time since the original vinyl came out more than 40 years ago. The album was carefully and brilliantly remastered by grammy nominated sound engineer Jessica Thomson.

Boban Petrović is a legend of Belgrade's sophisticated disco funk scene from the late 70s and early 80s.
Back in the second half of the 70s Boban started one of the first disco clubs in Belgrade and he was one of the biggest organizers of private house parties.

The finest balance between Boban Petrović's big-hearted party-maker-turned-philanthropist personality and his hustler one was achieved on Žur.
On Žur, he is at home, in his safe place, since the parties, the music and the people are the first out of many things he had completely figured out in his life. He is at the top of his game, occasionally bothered by a casual heartbreak, but always feeling himself, coming out playful and fundamentally peaceful, satisfied and ready to transcend himself in order to put the rest of the world in the limelight. In fact, Žur isn’t about the party, music, lyrics or its, hands down, beautifully balanced sonics. It’s about Boban and the funk he lived thoroughly. The funk before, but the funk he lived after this album even more so. All the ups and downs that he faced since the moment the first needle dropped on a Žur record to this very day are on this album as the unwritten destiny of that lighthearted character he played.

In short, ŽUR represents the essence of underground club life in Belgrade from the late 70s, when the album was recorded.
The quality of this trust is confirmed by the fact that Boban Petrovic's music is still actively listened to today, not just anywhere, but at the finest club events.
High end production and extremely authentic arrangements outside the mold of classic disco music, and lyrics that literally convey the vibe of his already jet-set lifestyle in Belgrade at the time.

Shortly after his musical career, Boban Petrovic became a businessman of the conscious class. He was living in Spain on his own luxury yacht for years, he had a private airplane, a car park. But all this time living on highest class level he never lost his identity. In all his offices, yacht, airplane and everywhere was playing loud funk music and he was dressed like a musician who just finished or need to start a gig.
Along the way Boban also wrote two books: Rokanje 1 & 2 describing the time when the album ŽUR was created.

The ŽUR album is one of the the holy grails of disco funk music releases on a global level.

ŽUR (‘Zhure’, party) is absolute cult and one of the most rare Yugoslavian disco funk albums, originally recorded in 1981, reissued on Everland Music for the first time since the original vinyl came out more than 40 years ago. The album was carefully and brilliantly remastered by grammy nominated sound engineer Jessica Thomson.

Boban Petrović is a legend of Belgrade's sophisticated disco funk scene from the late 70s and early 80s.
Back in the second half of the 70s Boban started one of the first disco clubs in Belgrade and he was one of the biggest organizers of private house parties.

The finest balance between Boban Petrović's big-hearted party-maker-turned-philanthropist personality and his hustler one was achieved on Žur.
On Žur, he is at home, in his safe place, since the parties, the music and the people are the first out of many things he had completely figured out in his life. He is at the top of his game, occasionally bothered by a casual heartbreak, but always feeling himself, coming out playful and fundamentally peaceful, satisfied and ready to transcend himself in order to put the rest of the world in the limelight. In fact, Žur isn’t about the party, music, lyrics or its, hands down, beautifully balanced sonics. It’s about Boban and the funk he lived thoroughly. The funk before, but the funk he lived after this album even more so. All the ups and downs that he faced since the moment the first needle dropped on a Žur record to this very day are on this album as the unwritten destiny of that lighthearted character he played.

In short, ŽUR represents the essence of underground club life in Belgrade from the late 70s, when the album was recorded.
The quality of this trust is confirmed by the fact that Boban Petrovic's music is still actively listened to today, not just anywhere, but at the finest club events.
High end production and extremely authentic arrangements outside the mold of classic disco music, and lyrics that literally convey the vibe of his already jet-set lifestyle in Belgrade at the time.

Shortly after his musical career, Boban Petrovic became a businessman of the conscious class. He was living in Spain on his own luxury yacht for years, he had a private airplane, a car park. But all this time living on highest class level he never lost his identity. In all his offices, yacht, airplane and everywhere was playing loud funk music and he was dressed like a musician who just finished or need to start a gig.
Along the way Boban also wrote two books: Rokanje 1 & 2 describing the time when the album ŽUR was created.

The ŽUR album is one of the the holy grails of disco funk music releases on a global level.

The third album Fort Sensible by Brisbane alt-rockers Tape/Off is a genuine labour of love, a passionate dose of opinionated heart-on-sleeve rock’n’roll representing not just a place but a time with its cache of meticulously-crafted guitars, robust rhythms and socially-conscious lyrics mining both the personal and the political.

While musically they veer seamlessly between intricacy and intensity their words cut straight to the quick, the songs caustic and catchy in equal measure, making Fort Sensible by far the most ambitious and accessible album in the band’s storied decade-plus history.

Tape/Off’s first two albums - Chipper (2014) and Broadcast Park (2018) - were both longlisted for the prestigious Australian Music Prize, yet Fort Sensible takes the tried and tested Tape/Off aesthetic to a whole new level as the band seek to both share the creative load and fully harness their innate collective chemistry.

The guitars of Nathan Pickels and Ben Green weave together like an electric tapestry, the resultant soundscapes both intricate and ambitious whilst still entirely capable of busting out massive riffs with the best of them, their inherent simpatico now built upon by years of experience playing off each other. From a rhythmic perspective Tape/Off's propulsive drummer Branko Cosic's immense power and Cameron Smith's robust, expressive basslines combine to provide the perfect rhythmic bottom-end throughout the record.

Excitingly Tape/Off's sonic palette has been broadened substantially on the new album, with Pickels' angry and angst-laden diatribes throughout Fort Sensible now augmented by Green and Smith taking vocal turns at junctures, adding a whole new dynamic and dimension to proceedings.

At a time when our leaders seem lacking and the world needs the redemptive powers of art and music more than ever, Tape/Off announce themselves as a serious force to be reckoned with the uncompromising power and beauty of Fort Sensible!

When The World Was One is something of a companion piece to Matthew Halsall’s 2012 album Fletcher Moss Park (much of the music was written at the same time) but draws more explicitly on Halsall’s love of spiritual jazz and Eastern music as well as his own studies in meditation and travels in Japan. Beautifully recorded at Hasall’s favourite studio, 80 Hertz in Manchester, and engineered by Brendan Williams and George Atkins it features the recording debut of Halsall’s large ensemble, The Gondwana Orchestra, which utilises the exotic flavours of harp, koto and bansuri flute and Eastern scales to create a global palate for Halsall’s life-affirming sounds.

The more you recall a particular memory, the more it distorts and plays on your sense of narrative continuity. In this way, the vividly textured layers of Secret Recess – the debut Dauw LP from Luke Entelis aka Viul – comprise a sacred experience that leaves a unique emotional residue with each listen. Some pieces feature delicate melodies curling over themselves, while others offer gradually evolving loops underpinned by subtle guitar plucking, distant found sounds and obscured voices at half-speed. All are crafted meticulously with analogue sources and sifted through soft-edged tape processes that reward a dedicated headphone session, conjuring the solitary space promised in the album’s title.

From a home studio replete with analog synthesizers, guitars, effects and tape machines, Secret Recess emerged slowly across an era when most of us turned inward by necessity, drawing upon a library’s worth of sketches, recombinations and lightning strikes. Entelis also cites in particular a road trip to the national parks of the southwestern US that significantly informed the hazy, spacious atmospheres of the work that followed; by his account, “the desert wind was too intense for field recording,” but you can still feel it drifting across compositions like “Taurum” and “Eighties”. Such a union of urban huddle and open-sky expanse allows the album to take on new colours anywhere it’s heard.

Whether fully formed in one brief spell or developed over months of revisitation and refinement, each facet of the Viul catalogue conveys a rare, sweet melancholy pulled from thoughtful circuitry and the core artistic impulse to simply document the ephemeral – those moments in existence that you have to accept losing, but which replay endlessly once the day unravels.

“In the depths of the recording process I often feel simultaneously in touch with past and future versions of myself, which is strange, but good, I think.” (Viul)

Viul has been the primary project of Brooklyn’s Luke Entelis for nearly twenty years, but only in the last half-dozen has it come to fruition beyond the ears of friends and family. The albums Bright Decline (Disques d’Honoré, 2019) and Outside the Dream World (Past Inside the Present, 2019) beautifully justified this patient arc, and the collaboration Konec with Benoît Pioulard (A Strangely Isolated Place, 2022) entwined the two artists’ sensibilities into one of the most notable ambient/experimental collections of the year.

Stick To Your Guns hold a mirror up to society’s ills without blurring its ugliness. In an attempt to unapologetically trumpet real change, the Southern California quintet—Jesse Barnett vocals,Andrew Rose [bass],Adam Galindo[drums], Chris Rawson [guitar], and Josh James [guitar]—never shy away from speaking or screaming unpopular truths from the purest place. Founded in2003, Stick To Your Guns have always written and performed with a sense of urgency, their socially conscious message hitting as hard as their signature hybrid of hardcore, punk, and metal. Over the course of their career, they’ve amassed over 50 million total streams, performed on four continents, and shared stages with the likes of Parkway Drive, Architects, and Every Time I Die. Most recently, Alternative Press praised 2017’s True View as “the result of a long time spent on self-reflection and realization.” The band’s latest release ‘Invisible Rain’ incorporates two new songs that remain quintessentially Stick To Your Guns while incorporating fresh elements. The band’s relentless pursuit of a better world and their critique of societal injustices continues to drive their music and message. In 2024, Stick To Your Guns signed with SharpTone Records, marking a new chapter in their storied career. This partnership promises to bring their potent blend of activism and music to an even broader audience, amplifying their call for change and social justice.

"I decided to just let myself go," Zzzahara says of their new record, 'Spiral Your Way Out' "I think I finally came to this acceptance that I don't have to be perfect. I want to be a good role model to my fans and stuff like that, but I also don't want to hide who I am." Zzzahara's music wades into the deep waters of love, lust, and self-discovery in a part of the world where artifice and authenticity co-exist. Emerging from the heart of LA's alternative music scene, their sound is raw in feeling and rebellious by nature.

Their 2022 debut album, Liminal Spaces, chronicles a coming- of- age in Highland Park, following painful childhood memories through to late- night, live- fast coping mechanisms, and the changes the neighbourhood has endured over the same period of time. Their 2023 follow- up, Tender, marked a period of slowing down, looking inward, and embracing a softer side of being. 'Spiral Your Way Out' sees Zzzahara evolve again. Emotionally, its foundations are built on scorched earth.

The album finds Zzzahara in the aftermath of a relationship spent trying to fit someone else's mould, being jerked around by indecision, and then hitting "emotional rock bottom." Made in a three-month burst that let all their pent-up frustrations loose, 'Spiral Your Way Out' is in part a work of self-reclamation, swapping there 2nd album Tender's meditative state for something fiery and more assertive. The new album marks another sonic evolution as much as an emotional one. Zzzahara's songs have always come wrapped in a warm glow that reflects how they were written -namely at home in their bedroom.

That glow remains on 'Spiral Your Way Out', but it also packs an ambitious streak and a gutsy punch. Taking a more collaborative approach than usual, Zzzahara worked with a range of producers including Jorge Elbrecht (Japanese Breakfast, No Joy, Sky Ferreira), Sarah Tudzin (boygenius / Cloud Nothings / The Armed), former Ducktails guitarist Alex Craig (Jelani Aryeh / re6ce) and Halsey tour drummer Franco Reid, who helped harness their intimate style of writing and blow it up into something more panoptic. After a year of upheaval, Zzzahara finally feels "calm." The musical equivalent to going several rounds on a punching bag, 'Spiral Your Way Out' finds solace between extremes. It licks its wounds in a place where pain and love, healing and abandon, sit side-by-side. If it has a message, it's one of standing tall in your own shoes - scuffs and all.

"I decided to just let myself go," Zzzahara says of their new record, 'Spiral Your Way Out' "I think I finally came to this acceptance that I don't have to be perfect. I want to be a good role model to my fans and stuff like that, but I also don't want to hide who I am." Zzzahara's music wades into the deep waters of love, lust, and self-discovery in a part of the world where artifice and authenticity co-exist. Emerging from the heart of LA's alternative music scene, their sound is raw in feeling and rebellious by nature.

Their 2022 debut album, Liminal Spaces, chronicles a coming- of- age in Highland Park, following painful childhood memories through to late- night, live- fast coping mechanisms, and the changes the neighbourhood has endured over the same period of time. Their 2023 follow- up, Tender, marked a period of slowing down, looking inward, and embracing a softer side of being. 'Spiral Your Way Out' sees Zzzahara evolve again. Emotionally, its foundations are built on scorched earth.

The album finds Zzzahara in the aftermath of a relationship spent trying to fit someone else's mould, being jerked around by indecision, and then hitting "emotional rock bottom." Made in a three-month burst that let all their pent-up frustrations loose, 'Spiral Your Way Out' is in part a work of self-reclamation, swapping there 2nd album Tender's meditative state for something fiery and more assertive. The new album marks another sonic evolution as much as an emotional one. Zzzahara's songs have always come wrapped in a warm glow that reflects how they were written -namely at home in their bedroom.

That glow remains on 'Spiral Your Way Out', but it also packs an ambitious streak and a gutsy punch. Taking a more collaborative approach than usual, Zzzahara worked with a range of producers including Jorge Elbrecht (Japanese Breakfast, No Joy, Sky Ferreira), Sarah Tudzin (boygenius / Cloud Nothings / The Armed), former Ducktails guitarist Alex Craig (Jelani Aryeh / re6ce) and Halsey tour drummer Franco Reid, who helped harness their intimate style of writing and blow it up into something more panoptic. After a year of upheaval, Zzzahara finally feels "calm." The musical equivalent to going several rounds on a punching bag, 'Spiral Your Way Out' finds solace between extremes. It licks its wounds in a place where pain and love, healing and abandon, sit side-by-side. If it has a message, it's one of standing tall in your own shoes - scuffs and all.

Back In Stock!

The Linkin Park & Jay Z collaborative EP “Collision Course” is now back in stock at Atton. This will be available in next Friday, September 27th. There is no pre-order for this release, so feel free to place orders.

It has been twenty years since the first Back To Mine release but still the series is going strong. These personal after-hours soundtracks have never sounded more relevant than now, and next up is GRAMMYr Award-nominated, San Francisco-based artist Tycho. It finds him going deeper than one of his famous Burning Man sets as he heads into otherworldly, cinematic headphone territory with tunes from Lancaster, Little Dragon, Octo Octa, Ulrich Schnauss and many more across four fantastic sides of vinyl.