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Two tracks from Numero’s Eccentric Soul compilation which documented Bob Abrahamian’s passion and devotion to celebrating unknown Chicagoland group harmony music. His untimely passing in 2014 left a huge hole for many music devotees. SO, I CAN MAKE THIS CHANGE was THE KRASH BAND’s only record, it came out in 1976 and is a revered 45 amongst serious collectors. With it’s crisp bass, phased harmonies and the crowning accomplishment, the seraphic falsetto by Evelyn Holder!ONENESS previously known as The Audition’s recorded HARD TO KNOW in 1977 for Cincinnati’s AMG label, alas this sweet harmony jewel never got released and was only heard by those who tuned into Bob’s Sitting in the Park radio shows until the compilation put that to rights.

Please note this song was rescued / restored and there is tape damage in parts.

Flautist Johanna Orellana teams up with Carmen Villain for a collection of horizontal, pastoral field recordings and close mic-ed flute sounds that zero in on the instrument’s unstable resonance and levitational magic. There’s no cringe virtuoso business or fourth world firewalking here - just sonic purity, sublime minimalism and the precise capture of time, place and poetry.

You might have come across Johanna Orellana before if you’ve listened to Carmen Villain’s music (or seen her perform live), and Villain appears here in a producer’s role, using her engineering expertise to impart a level of restraint and sonic fidelity that’s quite startling. There are only really two central elements to the album: environmental recordings and flute. There’s no psychedelic delay, no cavernous reverb; no audible treatments at all - Orellana and Villain instead force us to consider the flute and its musical lineage.

‘El Jardín I’ introduces the instrument as a physical conduit; Orellana allows her breath to distort the sound - the padded pat pat of the keys forms a kind of rhythm, closely recorded so it’s amplified and jarring, linking to primal wind instruments like conch shells, bamboo flutes and wooden whistles. Recalling the way in which Debit interfaced with the ancient world using AI- assisted tech on last year’s ‘The Long Count’, Orellana uses a comparatively modern contemporary transverse flute, an instrument with roots that stretch back through the baroque era, into Medieval Europe, back to the Byzantine era and into Asia. The component that connects the instruments and eras is breath, and its amplification and modification through differently shaped pipes and vessels.

Orellana lets the environment sing: insects, rushing water and zephyr-like winds form a stage that presents her mortal energy, suggesting a harmony between our use of breath and its environmental ubiquitousness. Her technique is steeped in folk history and decouples itself from expectation by rooting itself in nature. It allows her to bridge the gap between equal temperament and less ordered (less commercially-focused) microtonality without overstating the concept. Other sounds waft in from the sidelines; what might be an Indian bansuri, stray notes, a gust of air.

There’s a link to the foundational new age recordings that Joanna Brouk made with Maggi Payne back in 1980, but Orelanna also absorbs the outdoor folk magic of Fonal or Stroom, and the improvisational grist of Bendik Giske or legendary US horn duo Nmperign.

In 1975, under the oppressive air of military dictatorship in Brazil, brothers Lelo and Zé Eduardo Nazario invited bassist Zeca Assumpção to join their musical experiments in a basement under Sao Paulo’s Teodoro Sampaio Street. As teenagers, the trio had already been playing together in Hermeto Pascoal’s Grupo, alongside guitarist Toninho Horta and saxophonist Nivaldo Ornelas, and it was while working together under Hermeto’s direction that the Paulista rhythm section (as they were then known) began to realise their own potential.

With many nightclubs and venues closed in the mid-70s and government censors dictating the output of radio, TV and art galleries, many Brazilian artists fled during the years of dictatorship. But underground, Grupo Um were fusing avant garde ideals with contemporary jazz and Afro Brazilian rhythm; making phenomenally free and expressive music - in stark contrast to the sterile, conservative conditions being imposed above ground.

Just like Hermeto Pascoal’s Viajando Com O Som from the following year, Starting Point was recorded over two days at Vice-Versa Studios, by revered engineer Renato Viola. The studio was one of the best in Sao Paulo and musicians communicated with engineers through cameras and a monitor, allowing the group complete immersion in the process. They also made use of the studio’s hemispherical tiled room, which served as an acoustic reverberation chamber.

The album begins with Zé Eduardo Nazario’s thunderous drum solo on “Porão da Teodoro”, before clearing the clouds with the lone Berimbau which opens “Onze Por Oito”. Built around a hypnotic electric bass line, heady Fender Rhodes improvisations, and more rip-roaring drums, it’s a rapturous, electrifying freak-jam in 11/8.

Like some invertebrate deep-sea curiosity, the free-form “Organica” is made up of Lelo Nazario’s playfully eerie prepared piano, with Zé Eduardo’s percussion flurries darting around Assumpçao’s double bass. The equally non-conformist, percussion-only piece “Jardim Candida” features many of Zé Eduardo’s home-made instruments, including a long saw blade played with vibraphone sticks and violin bow. While working with Hermeto, Zé Eduardo famously built his own all-in-one percussion set-up known as the “Barraca de Percussão” (Percussion Tent) - the first of its kind in Brazil, which he would also use on Hermeto Pascoal’s Viajando Com O Som and throughout his career.

“Suite Orquidea Negra'' (Black Orchid Suite) was written by Lelo Nazario as the score for an imaginary movie - the story of a rare, black orchid which produced a substance meant to cure all diseases, but which had mysteriously disappeared from the laboratory… “As a screenplay it’s not very good” reflects Lelo in jest, “but the music ended up being very interesting, the way its parts are chained to one another carries a little of the mystery I imagined for the movie.”

The album closes with the triumphant “Cortejo dos Reis Negros” (Procession of Black Kings) - a groovy variation on the Maracatu rhythm, with a two-note bassline underpinning piano improvisations, exultant wordless vocals, cuicas, slide-whistles and a very special guest appearance from Zé’s dog Bolinha.

Starting Point was to mark the inception of one of Brazil’s most daring instrumental groups. Their debut now sits in the lofty echelon of otherworldly 70s Brazilian music, alongside the likes of Marcos Resende & Index’s self-titled debut, Cesar Mariano & Cia’s Sao Paulo Brasil, Azymuth’s debut and indeed Hermeto Pascoal’s Viajando Com O Som. But just like all of those titles, which were either shelved or largely ignored at the time, Grupo Um - so radically ahead of their time - struggled to find a label to release their debut album. So Lelo kept the tapes safe in his archives, which is where they sat for almost half a century. Finally, almost fifty years later, this mesmerising piece of history is here, and it was only the beginning...

Grupo Um’s Starting Point will be released by Far Out Recordings, on vinyl LP, with an insert featuring unseen photos and liner notes by the Nazario brothers, as well as a CD on 17th February 2023.

Featuring music from a lost tape of devotional keyboard jams, field recordings of migrating birds, mysterious bells, meditative noise and crooked new beat/EBM, made god-knows-when and subsequently discovered in a Thessaloniki charity shop years later. It now somehow finds its way to vinyl, newly mastered by Rashad Becker, and sounding like a lost Hype Williams x Muslimgauze madness.

Originally discovered in a musty charity shop by Live Adult Entertainment, and issued in minuscule numbers on CD in ’21, Christian Love Forum’s raverential debut ‘Naked Light’ documents the fraternal post-church jams of siblings, Scott, Kiro and N•X, plus their mate Steve, who would regularly channel the light and pain of Sunday mass sermons into their ecclesiastic crud.

As previously heard on their blink ’n miss ‘Unconditional Love’ tape, the trio express their higher purpose thru ribboning microtonal keyboard jams that sound like Gurdjieff with a Casio and a knackered drum machine after too much sacramental wine. They hit the strangest, most affective seam of religious cinematic epic soundtracks, gnarled noise and clandestine Belgian new beat that seriously pushes our buttons, sounding quite unlike anything in the contemporary sphere, but eerily also echoing sentiments explored on record by James Leyland Kirby or Bryn Jones.

Now reshuffled and clad in custom artwork, ‘Naked Light’ is unveiled to believers and skeptics as a definitive article of faith. The lord works in mysterious ways within, manifest in stages of sun-bleached post-church field recordings, whirligig melodies, blown-out bouzouki and choral tape howls and a Béla Tarr soundtrack-like campanology on the A-side, before letting their passions flow in ‘Wicked City (Parts I-IV)’; a spellbinding side-long collage of slurred synths, neo-noir hardbeat rhythms and speaking-in-tongues vox recalling V/Vm’s new beat apocrypha as much as bits from Hype Williams’ hypnagogic ‘One Nation’, thee dustiest gooches of Dirk Desaever’s archive, or even aspects of Rat Heart at his cruddiest.

‘Naked Light’ rarely fails to induce uncontrolled eye movement in susceptible skulls, destined to become an occult hit with lapsed churchgoers, new beat fiends and anyone missing the enigma and ineffable flavour of ‘00s underground noise tapes in this auspicious year of AD2023.

From a research work started in full lockdown three years ago, finally sees the light (or darkness) Echi Senza Fine, a remastered collection of sound material by Tasaday. Inspired by the controversial media story in 1971 of the discovery of a tribe in the Philippines that apparently had technology that had stood still in the Stone Age, the project officially borrows the name Tasaday in 1984 from the evolution of Nulla Perreale, in turn union of Die Form (musical part) & Orgasm Denied (performative part).

To put it in the words of Marcello Ambrosini, the Tasadays find in Die Form the controlled destruction of the form after its careful design and construction, while in Nulla Iperreale the spontaneity free from any possible superstructure. They declare themselves new primitives, not in the perspective of a nostalgic return to a pre-industrial or prehistoric external world, but in the exception of an inner experience in stark contrast to the leviathan of the single utilitarian thought that has dominated the West for centuries.

Their production-action does not allow itself to be tempted by the repetitiveness used by many industrial groups of those years, thus resulting seminal in the evolution of the scene. Their impulse to go further and not remain caged in the format of the new wave is witnessed by their particular sound vocabulary that sees, along with the use of conventional instruments, the use of DIY tools such as Chopper Vox and highly sui generis tools, like the Camolofono, cariole loaded with sheets, stones, tubes, chains and “garbage” of various shapes and sizes.

A discography dotted with primordial electronic experiments that reaches the new millennium through several vinyl records and an endless number of cassettes. From this undefined and mysterious number of tapes that is born Echi Senza Fine: 14 tracks (+ 2 digital bonuses) remastered, collected by Asymmetrical, who also edited the release insert, a collage of visual and textual material from their fanzines. A series of 300 transparent vinyl + Insert.

18 track compilation of cult '80s French rock band Les Calamités,
includes their biggest hit "Vélomoteur" and tracks with the bands the
Dogs and The Barracudas Available as a digipak CD with 36-page booklet and vinyl with 8 page booklet and download code, with liner notes in French and English. Wouldn't it do them justice to rid Les Calamités (literally "the calamities") of the embarrassing phrase "girl band", durably stuck to their skins and plaited skirts? It's nothing but a pink puffy cloud obscuring their true importance as a "band" full stop, as well as their fleeting though mind-bending trajectory. In just a few months after going on stage with a handful of original songs recorded here and there, they became, from Dijon to Rouen, Paris to Toulouse, Bordeaux to Strasbourg, the darlings of an uncompromising rockers' demanding scene. Tolerated by some, maybe, they were also consecrated, certainly (should they have needed the accolade). The trade-off was a succession of quick and distinctive verse-choruses for which the adjectives "fresh" and "light" seemed to have been invented again.

They delivered just as many covers, which gave an idea of the origins of their songwriting: one foot in the fifties (on the dancefloor), the other in the sixties (in the garage). All of this leading to their final hit, a successful incursion in the top sales with a popular song for everyone to hum at ease, from seaside campsites to the cool kids of the capital.
Everything the Calamités touched, with their classy, rigorous, casual ways - plus just enough amused detachment - turned into gold.

Since he first emerged at the end of 1999 with instant UK garage classic Re-Rewind, Craig David has scored 25 UK top 40 singles (16 of them top 10), nine UK top 40 albums (five of them top 10) and amassed over 5 billion (!) streams worldwide. In fact, over 1.5 billion of those came via his most recent releases, 2016's chart-topping comeback album, Following My Intuition, and 2018's career consolidating The Time Is Now. If you're more used to the old school metrics, that's 20m global sales. And speaking of global, he's played sold out tours everywhere from America to Australia, Japan to Germany. Across his twenty-plus year career, he's collaborated with the likes of Sting, Kano, Diplo and KSI, while also becoming one of the biggest DJs in Ibiza via his TS5 soundsystem. Award-wise we're talking 14 Brit Award nominations, two Grammy nominations, four MOBO awards and three Ivor Novellos honouring his songwriting. It's impressive, sure, but that's the past. It's ephemera. “I always feel like you need to be more real-time and present in the now,” David confirms.
That present involves an excellent new album, his eighth, in the shape of next year's 22. “It's 22 years since the first album, it will be 2022 when the album drops,” he explains of the title. This month sees the arrival of 22's glorious, MNEK-assisted lead single Who You Are, which cocoons a feel-good pop lyric about being present in a pristine UK garage casing courtesy of producer Digital Farm Animals. Like all Craig David classics it feels both box fresh and warmly nostalgic. “It will live in the world this song,” David says. “It feels so authentic, it has intention. Put on Who You Are to try and talk to someone that needs help.”

The idea of putting a smile on people's faces is at the heart of 22, an album whose title itself reflects myriad different themes. “There's also a spiritualism in the number 22 and what it represents,” he says. “In numerology it's a very powerful number and in terms of angel numbers it's bringing balance and equilibrium to my life. We're in a world where there's a lot of me against you, and so it's bridging the gap.” The title also represents distance; it's a date stamp that marks his career longevity. So what does the album's contents say about Craig David in 2022? “At its core it's still very much everything I've honoured since I was a kid, but in some ways I'm being more playful,” he says. “Loosening up the chains of my history. My debut is probably the most clear expression of who I am because it was my first outing – it's everything you are. So on this album there's that energy mixed with the wisdom and experience I can bring to the world. I've not mastered anything yet, I'm a newcomer still.” Still very much born to do it, just older and wiser.

RIYL: Toro y Moi, Helado Negro, Rosalía, Tame Impala, Cuco.

Follow up to their 2019 breakout ‘Foam,’ of which Pitchfork said “Foam demonstrates that it’s possible to draw from everywhere, without sounding quite like anything else.” Lead to tours supporting Durand Jones & The Indications, Belle & Sebastian, Chicano Batman, Crumb, Innerwave, and festival appearances at Pitchfork Festival Chicago and Primavera Sound LA. ‘Last Spa on Earth’ is wildly unique and creative music, mixing the sounds of Indie, Electronic, Drum & Bass, Reggaeton, Latin Hip Hop, and more to create a sound all to their own. Divino Niño are no strangers to bold reinvention. When Camilo Medina and Javier Forero friends whose bond dates back to their childhoods in Bogotá, Colombia moved to Chicago and recruited guitarist Guillermo Rodriguez to form a band, they were psych-pop outsiders playing live shows with a drum machine. With the addition of drummer Pierce Codina, their 2019 breakthrough and debut LP for Winspear, Foam, solidified their place as local indie rock mainstays. Soon after, multi-instrumentalist Justin Vittori joined to round out their lineup. Once again, with their masterful, unpredictable, and eminently danceable new album, the band has done something radical: They totally upended the way they write songs, eschewing practice room jams for unrelentingly collaborative beats, implied grooves for immersive dance floor heaters, and mellow vibes for frenetic doses of reggaeton, electropop, and trap on their most adventurous and ambitious work to date. Welcome to the Last Spa on Earth. Written and recorded over the past two years, Last Spa on Earth deals in release and catharsis: confronting your darkest moments and coming out better for it. The album artwork, done by Medina, a longstanding visual artist, depicts a dreamy, yet graffiti-tagged spa, void of physical bodies so listeners can envision themselves in this unique environment. It represents the yin and yang approach Divino Niño took while creating the album: the serenity of the spa and the chaos of the party. Ultimately, the band’s desire is to provide healing in the same way one feels after sweating, shivering, stretching, and resting at the spa against the backdrop of the world’s darkness. Last Spa on Earth is the cathartic product of Divino Niño letting go of their musical preconceptions, past traumas, and future anxieties to embrace change, chaos, and each other’s contributions both to these songs and to each other. Track Listing: 01. LSE 02. Nos Soltamos 03. Tu Tonto 04. XO 05. Toy Premiado 06. Ecstasy 07. Drive 08. Miami 09. Mona 10. Especial 11. Papelito 12. I Am Nobody

The official soundtrack of the 2021 'Rumba Rules, New genealogies' documentary movie by Congolese artist Sammy Baloji and Quebec filmmaker David Nadeau-Bernatchez. A deep dive into Kinshasa’s vibrant Rumba scene, including remastered classics by Brigade Sarbati, Werrason, Papa Wemba, Franco & le Tout Puissant O.K. Jazz

Rumba Rules, New genealogies is about contemporary rumba in Kinshasa, but this music has deep historical roots nevertheless. Born in the interstices of the colonial world and thriving during the three decades of the Mobutu era in Zaïre, Congolese rumba has been iconic and popular all over Africa for decades. The roots of Rumba are even deeper, and the many paths it evokes trigger the imagination. The story goes that this music came with the migration of the ‘Kumba’ drum and dance in previous centuries, African slaves having carried it all around the Americas and giving birth to Cuban ’Rumba’, Colombian ‘Kumbia’ and many others. With its varied rhythms, guitars and horns, through LPs and radio stations, Rumba came back to (re)conquer Africa throughout the 20th century, paving the way for new practices. One could say this music is a sort of palimpsest, a memory in itself of Atlantic migrations and histories.

Rumba is nowadays discussed all around the world, igniting many debates among the Congolese diaspora. Being the constant talk of the town sometimes overloads public debate, and many people get tired of this broken record. Thus, over the last decade, enterprising producers have worked hard to promote Kinshasa’s musical diversity and tried to emulate new sounds to reach worldwide attention. But Kin’ locals and urban dwellers will not be fooled : new shoots cannot hide the forest. Despite some difficulties to innovate, despite the pastoralist sermons and the diaspora fighters pushing for concert cancelations, rumba is still at the core of the Congo today. Talented artists such as Fally Ipupa, Ferré Gola, Brigade Sarbati and others are leading the fifth generation, and the religious world has also proven to be a nurturing environment for the cultural and economic dynamism of this music.

Focusing on the music of Brigade Sarbati and his Orchestra, this record offers a deep dive into Kinshasa’s rumba scene. Halfway between professional studios and Zoom H4 field recordings, the rumba herein is about today’s youth: dense, full of energy and breakdowns, insights and name-dropping. The cavacha rhythm, the solo and bass guitar’s playing style, the singing style and numerous dedications all resonate with the history of Rumba. In an era where digital sound is taking over, it is interesting to highlight the instrumental and live performance compositions of this music. Digital technology is indeed used during the recording and mixing phases, but Congolese rumba still relies strongly on instrumental playing. There is all that but also, many other things to hear on this record… It’s time to let it be. A big thanks to Étienne Tron for making it possible: it is on his initiative and through his patience that this album is in your hands today. (David Nadeau-Bernatchez, december 2021)

It might seem tongue-in-cheek on the surface, but the fact that the title of Eldritch Priest's sprawling debut vinyl release, Omphaloskepsis, is the Greek translation for “navel-gazing” unlocks something essential to the Vancouver-based composer and writer's singular outlook.

Perhaps even more telling is the title of Priest's 2013 book Boring Formless Nonsense: Experimental Music and the Aesthetics of Failure (Bloomsbury), whose 300-odd pages read as though you've been dosed with potent hallucinogens. Throughout the text Priest addresses—celebrates, even—the titular elements via various musical examples, including that of his peers. What's so bewildering it is that his descriptions of how boredom, formlessness, and nonsense manifest are laced with the very tactics he's depicting. Passages tie themselves in knots, footnotes engulf the “primary text,” he even deliberately misleads the reader.

The restless stasis of Omphaloskepsis could be regarded as an extension of this book's wayward spirit. Things unfold fairly slowly and consistently but it'd be a stretch to describe it as properly contemplative. Like attempting to meditate with a high fever, any sense of tranquility is constantly derailed as one succumbs to queasy agitation. The piece's foundation is a seemingly endless guitar melody; an organic meander that neither seems to repeat or offer any concessions to narrative directionality. Priest unfurls this rambling cantus firmus in a rich, clean, jazz-like tone, but as it's played, it's repeatedly tangled with snarls of dense digital processing and shadowed by stumbling virtual “band.” These strident interjections blatantly contrast with the guitar, yet they aren't so violent as to offer more than a faint itch of distraction. As such, the distinctive amorphousness that this piece asks us to inhabit for its 54-minute duration leaves a strong impression, but also feels utterly intangible.

In addition to his recorded forays, Priest's disorienting music has also been performed by top-tier interpreters such as the Arditti Quartet, Quatuor Bozzini, Philip Thomas, Anton Lukoszevieze, and Continuum. While living in Toronto he co-founded the collective neither/nor with John Mark Sherlock, which featured a cross section of musician-composers playing each other's work including Eric Chenaux, Doug Tielli, Eric KM Clark, Heather Roche, and Rob Clutton. “Though the name refers specifically to a loosely knit group of composers and performers,” remark's the collective's website “neither/nor is also a sensibility that refuses art’s messianic pretensions and the gaping maw of commercialized society, opting instead for art’s right to be esoteric.” In 2021, when Eric Chenaux and Martin Arnold relaunched their neither/nor-adjacent Rat-drifting imprint, an album by Priest, Many Traceries, was among the first to be released. Perhaps unsurprisingly, Priest was a student at the University of Victoria, a school that's come to be known for fostering such staunch individualists as Arnold, Linda Catlin Smith, Allison Cameron, and Anna Höstman.

As a scholar, Priest writes from a 'pataphysical perspective and deals with topics such as sonic culture, experimental aesthetics and the philosophy of experience. Priest brings these interests to his job as an Associate Professor in the School for the Contemporary Arts at Simon Fraser University, interests that also inform his work as a member the experimental theory group The Occulture. In addition to Omphaloskepsis, his new book, Earworm and Event: Music, Daydreams and Other Imaginary Refrains,