Buscar:people on process

Ed Sheeran is set to release his new album ‘-‘ (Subtract) - the last in his decade-spanning mathematical album era - on 5 May 2023 through Asylum/Atlantic on vinyl, cassette and CD. An album that revisits Ed’s singer/songwriter roots, and one that was written against a backdrop of personal grief and hope, ‘-’ (Subtract) presents one of the biggest stars on the planet at his most vulnerable and honest.
In Ed’s own words - “I had been working on Subtract for a decade, trying to sculpt the perfect acoustic album, writing and recording hundreds of songs with a clear vision of what I thought it should be. Then at the start of 2022, a series of events changed my life, my mental health, and ultimately the way I viewed music and art.
Writing songs is my therapy. It helps me make sense of my feelings. I wrote without thought of what the songs would be, I just wrote whatever tumbled out. And in just over a week, I replaced a decade’s worth of work with my deepest darkest thoughts.

Within the space of a month, my pregnant wife got told she had a tumour, with no route to treatment until after the birth. My best friend Jamal, a brother to me, died suddenly and I found myself standing in court defending my integrity and career as a songwriter. I was spiralling through fear, depression and anxiety.
I felt like I was drowning, head below the surface, looking up but not being able to break through for air.

As an artist I didn’t feel like I could credibly put a body of work into the world that didn’t accurately represent where I am and how I need to express myself at this point in my life. This album is purely that. It’s opening the trapdoor into my soul. For the first time I’m not trying to craft an album people will like, I’m merely putting something out that’s honest and true to where I am in my adult life.

This is last February’s diary entry and my way of making sense of it. This is Subtract.”
Since he first learnt ‘Layla’ by Eric Clapton on guitar at the age of 12-years-old, Sheeran’s love of the singer/songwriter began. Growing up with the likes of Damian Rice, Bruce Springsteen and Bob Dylan playing on repeat in his parents’ house – artists that his dad, John, introduced him to – ‘-‘was always on Ed’s horizon. Yet as the songs and writing process took on a whole new meaning and direction after a series of hard-hitting events impacted Ed’s world in 2022, one thing that remained untouched was his strong desire to make a record anchored in his love of singer/songwriter compositions. And now, as he gears-up for the release of his most soul-baring work to date, ‘-‘ serves as a timely reminder for why Sheeran remains one of the most gifted lyricists of his generation; an artist who breaks down his own experiences for fans to seek comfort and belonging.
‘-‘ is the result of Sheeran pushing the boundaries of his songcraft, as he delivers the most profound songwriting of his career. Teaming-up with Aaron Dessner (The National) on writing and production after the pair joined forces following an introduction from mutual friend Taylor Swift, Ed and Aaron began crafting the album in February last year. Writing over 30 songs during their month-long studio stint, the album’s fourteen tracks are seamlessly tied together by exquisite production from paired back, folk-leaning textures to bolder, full-band/orchestral arrangements.
Ed Sheeran burst onto the UK music scene in 2011 with his debut album ‘+’. Rapidly establishing himself as a history-making artist, he followed with ‘x’, ‘÷’, ‘No.6 Collaborations Project’ and ‘=’ - a catalogue that has seen Sheeran become one of the world’s biggest musical success stories of the 21st century.

Ed Sheeran is set to release his new album ‘-‘ (Subtract) - the last in his decade-spanning mathematical album era - on 5 May 2023 through Asylum/Atlantic on vinyl, cassette and CD. An album that revisits Ed’s singer/songwriter roots, and one that was written against a backdrop of personal grief and hope, ‘-’ (Subtract) presents one of the biggest stars on the planet at his most vulnerable and honest.
In Ed’s own words - “I had been working on Subtract for a decade, trying to sculpt the perfect acoustic album, writing and recording hundreds of songs with a clear vision of what I thought it should be. Then at the start of 2022, a series of events changed my life, my mental health, and ultimately the way I viewed music and art.
Writing songs is my therapy. It helps me make sense of my feelings. I wrote without thought of what the songs would be, I just wrote whatever tumbled out. And in just over a week, I replaced a decade’s worth of work with my deepest darkest thoughts.

Within the space of a month, my pregnant wife got told she had a tumour, with no route to treatment until after the birth. My best friend Jamal, a brother to me, died suddenly and I found myself standing in court defending my integrity and career as a songwriter. I was spiralling through fear, depression and anxiety.
I felt like I was drowning, head below the surface, looking up but not being able to break through for air.

As an artist I didn’t feel like I could credibly put a body of work into the world that didn’t accurately represent where I am and how I need to express myself at this point in my life. This album is purely that. It’s opening the trapdoor into my soul. For the first time I’m not trying to craft an album people will like, I’m merely putting something out that’s honest and true to where I am in my adult life.

This is last February’s diary entry and my way of making sense of it. This is Subtract.”
Since he first learnt ‘Layla’ by Eric Clapton on guitar at the age of 12-years-old, Sheeran’s love of the singer/songwriter began. Growing up with the likes of Damian Rice, Bruce Springsteen and Bob Dylan playing on repeat in his parents’ house – artists that his dad, John, introduced him to – ‘-‘was always on Ed’s horizon. Yet as the songs and writing process took on a whole new meaning and direction after a series of hard-hitting events impacted Ed’s world in 2022, one thing that remained untouched was his strong desire to make a record anchored in his love of singer/songwriter compositions. And now, as he gears-up for the release of his most soul-baring work to date, ‘-‘ serves as a timely reminder for why Sheeran remains one of the most gifted lyricists of his generation; an artist who breaks down his own experiences for fans to seek comfort and belonging.
‘-‘ is the result of Sheeran pushing the boundaries of his songcraft, as he delivers the most profound songwriting of his career. Teaming-up with Aaron Dessner (The National) on writing and production after the pair joined forces following an introduction from mutual friend Taylor Swift, Ed and Aaron began crafting the album in February last year. Writing over 30 songs during their month-long studio stint, the album’s fourteen tracks are seamlessly tied together by exquisite production from paired back, folk-leaning textures to bolder, full-band/orchestral arrangements.
Ed Sheeran burst onto the UK music scene in 2011 with his debut album ‘+’. Rapidly establishing himself as a history-making artist, he followed with ‘x’, ‘÷’, ‘No.6 Collaborations Project’ and ‘=’ - a catalogue that has seen Sheeran become one of the world’s biggest musical success stories of the 21st century.

Lost in the depths of space, AAKAARA takes listeners on a journey to the outer limits of the sonic universe with their latest album “Obsidian Promises”. Blending influences from punk and metal, EBM, architectural design and certain celestial objects, AAKAARA offers a fresh take on industrial techno.

This body of work is dark and brooding, full of haunting and thought-provoking soundscapes. Metallic and cold one moment, blisteringly hot the next. Pounding drums create searing rhythms, acid-drenched synths weave abrasive textures, and noise permeates the stereo field. Inspired by the mysterious and alluring world of black holes, the producer explores the beauty of extremes through sound. “If you know my work or me,” AAKAARA says, “it’s no secret that I have a spiritual connection to, and an obsession with, black holes.

It’s not about doom and gloom, but about beautiful extremes: infinite calmness, ultra-high energy, being deeply centered, and inevitable attraction.” “I try to sonify this in a naive sense. It isn’t an attempt at science; it’s a way for me to practice a makeshift spirituality about these entities through craft and functional dance music for people.”

Spirituality and stellar inspiration were essential to AAKAARA’s life during the three years they spent between Los Angeles and London, while writing this album. It provided a sonic home during a period of transition, when they didn’t feel at home and didn’t have access to a studio.

Everything was made “in the box” using only Ableton 10. After collecting guitar pedals and amplifiers for years, AAKAARA has shifted away from a hardware-focused mindset and is now more invested in the conceptual framework, narrative, and cultural implications of their work. Visuals also play an integral role in this maximalist experience.

The outer sleeve (front and back cover) conveys the “big ideas” visually, while the companion poster includes custom typography, detailed drawings, symbol design, and poetry. The poetry provides a textual counterpoint to the lyric-less music, written in parallel but later stages of the production process. The visual identity of this work is inseparable from the music, describing it in an integral way. It’s the other side of the coin, not simply an accompaniment. With its spiritual connection to the infinite and mysterious, “Obsidian Promises” harnesses the beauty and intensity of celestial entities as musical inspiration, transforming the science into mystical, narrative-driven sonic experience. Get ready for a ride through the unknown as AAKAARA’s latest offering takes you on a high-energy trip through the black hole’s playground.

repressed !

A lot can happen in 15 years. Few things manage to thrive for a decade and a half, especially in music. But a scrappy, left of center, Bay Area house music label, Dirtybird, has managed to do just that. Claude VonStroke, Dirtybird’s founder, is marking this 15-year milestone the only way he knows how… working. This year, VonStroke will throw two dozen-plus parties, three festivals (including the famous Dirtybird Campout), host his traveling Dirtybird BBQ series in major cities across the US, publish a coffee table book, release a seasonal clothing line, stage art shows, produce a fly on the wall docu series...and kick it all off by releasing a new album, out February 21st.

What began as a free party, turned basement record label, has morphed into a truly thriving community whose familial, fun and welcoming vibe has won over hearts and minds across the world. And while Dirtybird has grown and evolved, VonStroke’s core focus on music remains unwavering. The new album ‘Freaks & Beaks’ is a celebration of quirky innovation and a relentless pursuit of something new and fresh, while hearkening back to the freewheeling spirit that inspired the launch of his label. This is a project that draws upon the inspirations of family, old friends, new fans and proper dancefloors.

Claude will let his flock wet their beaks while they wait in anticipation of the new album with two new singles demonstrating the breadth of the dance music landscape explored on the record. Youngblood touches on the deeper sides of Claude VonStroke, a throwback to the label’s early days, featuring local LA music house talent Wyatt Marshall, while All My People in the House is a dancefloor heater that is sure to unite new and old Dirtybird fans together.

Today, Claude also delivers fans part one of an intimate video series, shot by his sister Emily (an accomplished filmmaker), documenting the creation of ‘Freaks and Beaks’, celebrating this historic milestone and taking a deeper dive into the day to day life of Claude VonStroke on the road.

‘Freaks and Beaks’ is the fourth artist album and sixth full-length project from Claude VonStroke. He approached the album with a new process, including committing to daily creative time, experimenting with a lot of new hardware and having fun creating a huge amount of sketches. He made music on many levels of gear all the way from complex modular synths to simple drum apps on his iPad. Keeping it all DIY, he sampled his own voice and his two children on several tracks as well. He allowed himself to breathe while creating over 130 ideas, which were whittled down to the finished 11 album tracks.

Freaks & Beaks nods at the inspirations that underpin VonStroke’s world, inside jokes between him and Justin Martin (FlubbleBuddy), unused experimental live sessions (Session A), playful noodling on synths (Alpine Arpline), obscure French producers (Frankie Goes To Bollywood), championing new talent (Youngblood), irreverent self-aware humor (Birthday Messages) and genre inspirations that range from ghetto tech and drum n bass to hip-hop and breaks. This is VonStroke’s love letter to the vibrancy and genre diversity that have made Dirtybird such a singular label.

Over the course of a nearly 50 year romantic and creative partnership sound artist Annea Lockwood and the late pioneering electronic composer Ruth Anderson have shared space on a number of significant releases of early electronic and tape music, including Charles Amirkhanian’s trailblazing 1977 anthology of women electronic composers New Music for Electronic and Recorded Media, a 1981 split LP on Opus One, a 1997 CD for Phill Niblock’s XI imprint, and 1998’s Lesbian American Composers compilation on CRI. The couple additionally taught a course on the history of women’s music-making, at Hunter College, called Living Women, Living Music. Throughout their time together, they co-authored a number of Hearing Studies designed for people with no formal musical training, which were collected for a 2021 book publication by Open Space Music. They spent most of their private life between Crompond, NY and the house they built themselves at Flathead Lake, Montana. Although Ruth passed away in 2019, the composers’ dialogue continues today with Tête-à-tête, a collection of unreleased archival and new material spread across an LP and a single-sided 10” record.

It all began with a telephone call. In 1973, Ruth Anderson was seeking a substitute to cover a yearlong sabbatical from her position as the director of the Electronic Music Studio she had founded at Hunter College in New York City. Her friend Pauline Oliveros too was on sabbatical, but recommended Ruth call Annea Lockwood—then living in London—about the post. Already drawn to America by the work of the visionary composers with whom she would soon be labelmates on Lovely Music, Annea jumped at the opportunity and within days of meeting in person the pair were, in her words, “joyously entangled.”

Over the next nine months, while Ruth was living in Hancock, New Hampshire, the couple would speak daily by phone in between visits. Ruth recorded these phone calls and, in 1974, surprised Annea with a cassette containing “Conversations,” a private piece she composed by dexterously collaging fragments of their conversations alongside slowed and throwed snatches of old popular songs: “Yes Sir, That’s My Baby”; “Oh, You Beautiful Doll”; and “Bill Bailey.” The centerpiece of Tête-à-tête, this side of intimate musique concrète extends to its listeners a rare invitation to eavesdrop on the halcyon phenomenon of two people falling in love. Tender and playful throughout, “Conversations” comes to its zenith with a cut-up of relentless laughter of a contagious beauty that is, for once, properly convulsive.

“For Ruth” is Annea’s elegy to her life partner. In 2020, Annea returned to Hancock as well as to Ruth’s resting place at Flathead Lake to make field recordings, which she wove together with further excerpts of the couple’s 1974 conversations for a commission presented as part of the 2021 Counterflows Festival in Glasgow. A consummate field recordist, Annea imbues the simple sounds of church bells, birds, wind, and the bodies of water that permeated her time alongside Ruth with an otherworldly depth and sense of narrative akin to that of her celebrated sound maps of the Hudson, Danube, and Housatonic rivers. An oneiric, subtly tonal evocation of a meeting at the shores of existence.

The collection opens with “Resolutions,” Ruth’s last completed electronic work, from 1984. A meditation for the individual listener composed as the result of her study of Zen, it’s a rigorous, process-driven piece that charts the very slow, smooth descent of a 5th from the octave above middle C down to sub-bass frequencies. Minimalist in execution, yet powerful in effect, it glides by almost imperceptibly, with new tones arriving and hovering or levitating upwards, seemingly out of nowhere. A healing piece, it harnesses the highly focused energy of pure tones as a means to, in Ruth’s words, “further wholeness of self and unity with others.”

Tape transfers by Maggi Payne, master by Giuseppe Ielasi and lacquers cut at Dubplates & Mastering, with domestic photos and liner notes provided by Annea Lockwood.

With Cruisin', their second album for Telephone Explosion, Toronto's Bernice distils their playful sense of composition resulting in the most affecting collection of their young career. Across fifteen tracks, a special kind of contemporary, jazz-inflected pop unfolds, miraculous for being both fun and musically adventurous, all in the name of emotional resonance. Each groove in the bassbin is matched by a little scratch at the listener's heartstrings. The album was recorded at home with Phil Melanson (Sam Gendel, Andy Shauf) and Thom Gill (Beverly Glenn-Copeland, Joseph Shabason), led by songwriter and vocalist Robin Dann (Martha Wainwright) and producer Matthew Pencer, with additional contributions from longtime members Dan Fortin and Felicity Williams (Bahamas) being captured remotely.

Throughout their eleven years as a group, working at the intersections of several scenes and spotlights (many of which begin and end at Toronto's beloved Tranzac Club), Bernice have developed an idiosyncratic musical language that feels immediately inviting and wonderfully refreshing. The group's two previous releases, Eau De Bonjourno (2021) and Puff: In The Air Without A Shape (2018) received generous nods from both Stereogum and Pitchfork, who described the music as "unusually mesmerizing". With the songcraft a little more crystalline and the vulnerability notched up, Cruisin' feels like the right record to open Bernice up to a much wider audience.

Development of the album began in Spring, 2021 during a writing retreat at the family farm in Bond Head, Ontario. Members of the band luxuriated in slow time, tinkering with lyrics and melodies, sharing meals, knitting. From this communal gathering, the concept of 'dedication' emerged as a guiding theme. Specifically, developing songs in an almost epistolary form; as love letters or check-ins for friends, community members, pets and other more elusive acquaintances (a longtime working title for the project was 'Songs For People').

Lead single 'Underneath My Toe', one of the first pieces developed under this theme, finds the group at their most graceful and direct. Beginning with songwriter/vocalist Robin Dann singing simply 'Hi / I miss you all the time', the composition proceeds to shift subtly between soft jazz balladry and low-bit funk, revelling in the intimate beauty of a long-time-no-see letter to a dear old friend.

Though being a band that so deeply values the art of fartin' around, Bernice couldn't settle on such a straightforward approach. During the creative process, a clarifying question arose: 'Can you cruise to it?'. This somewhat ambiguous aesthetic criteria became a guiding light for the album. 'Sure, it's a beautiful song about building trust with a new nonagenarian friend... but can you cruise to it?'.

Case in point, both follow up singles, 'No Effort To Exist' and 'Second Judy', fall into a more nebulous, bewildering category of song. Undoubtedly affecting, emotionally charged, existentially searching, yet also undeniably juicy. Drum patterns skitter into place while synth tones shift on a dime to meet thematic twists. There's errant whistling and curious overdubs. Then in come elegant backing vocals, elevating the narrative while an unlikely, left-field groove is established. Miraculously, the listener is not just moved, but Cruisin'.

Therein lies the marvel of Bernice: they remind us that the rec room funk of Mario Kart 64 need not exist in mutual exclusivity to a rich tapestry of human emotions. Even as we live through this most cursed timeline, we can look into the heart of things, dwell on the challenges we're called to witness, and find a little levity to carry us through; grab a lil' mushroom and cruise the existential soup.

lack Marble Vinyl! High Vis were formed in 2016 from the ashes of some of the UK's best hardcore bands. Gild-toothed frontman Graham Sayle's anguished lyrics about life in working class Britain were familiar to fans of Tremors' full-throttle thrash, but alongside his former bandmate Edward `Ski' Harper and veterans of Dirty Money, DiE and The Smear, High Vis sought to transform that energy and intensity into something entirely new.Like scene-mates Chubby and the Gang did by pulling in unlikely source material from classic doo-wop or Micromoon have by combining everything from psychedelia and metal into their high potency mix, High Vis' 2019 debut album, No Sense No Feeling showed the band were never going to be constrained by any sense of genre rules or regulations. Its claustrophobic rattle bore traces of Joy Division, Bauhaus, Crisis, The Cure and Gang Of Four lurking in the shadows. 2020's synth-driven EP, Society Exists, was further evidence of the band's restless creative MO.High Vis' second album Blending sees them open their viewfinder wider than ever before.

Alongside longstanding favourites such as Fugazi and Echo and The Bunnymen; Ride and even Flock Of Seagulls were shared reference points as the band worked on the album together.From the anthemic sweep of opener "Talk For Hours", through the title track's psychedelic swirl and "Fever Dream"'s baggy groove, it sees High Vis' sound blossoming into something with an unlimited richness. The hazy drift of "Shame" or the melodic jangle of "Trauma Bonds" may take them until uncharted waters, but they still have all the power and bite that made No Sense No Feeling so remarkable.Lyrically, the album represents another leap forward too. Talking frankly about poverty, class politics, and the challenges of everyday life, Sayle's lyrics have always addressed the downtrodden and discarded communities across Britain slipping below the waterline. This time around, Sayle's lost not of that social consciousness, but he's looked at himself and his own emotional landscape, and in the process created something that feels more universal, that reaches a hand-out to people and ultimately gives a message of hope."To me, the lyrics are less selfish," reflects Sayle. "In the past, I couldn't see past whatever was going on with me.

It's about accepting things and being open to conversations and learning to talk to people rather than just thinking that we're all doomed."The song "Talk for Hours" is a prime example of that. Born out of an afternoon meeting up with an old group of mates "repeating the same thing and not actually learning anything about each other" it offers to actually break the cycle and to listen and speak frankly about shared feelings and experiences. "Trauma Bonds", meanwhile, traces the broken lines of those living in lost communities, but ultimately realises that despite our shared scars, there's still hope to move on to a better future."The message of the album is you're not who you're told you are," Sayle summarises. "You're not your class background. Whatever it is, you're not that. Don't resign yourself to thinking you can't be this and you can't be that."It's a vitally important message right now, and one that could be the motto for not only Blending, but for High Vis themselves.

Beautiful, soulful jazz record by Jimetta Rose and The Voices of Creation, a Los Angeles-based community choir, a mainstay of the local scene. Highly recommended!!

The Voices of Creation are a community-based choir led by vocalist, songwriter, arranger, producer and mainstay of the Los Angeles scene Jimetta Rose. Made up of a multigenerational group of mainly non-professional singers backed by some of the city’s finest musicians,their music marries hip strains of gospel with layers of jazz, soul and funk. While aspects of their music might recall Kamasi Washington, The Staple Singers or Sly Stone, Jimetta’s unique vision has resulted in new spiritually-charged forms of music whose whole-hearted embrace of love, joy and peace act as sonic healing balms for the soul.

For Jimetta - whose resume includes collaborations with Miguel Atwood Ferguson, Georgia Anne Muldrow, Sa-Ra Creative Partners, Angel Bat Dawid, Shafiq Husayn, MED and Blu - the very act of creation was part of a healing process: “I was very low at the time and I wrote most of the songs going through hardship. But I found comfort in the songs and a way to adjust my mindset to where things got better. So I thought ‘if this music works for me, maybe it will work for other people’ I believe that every person has their own voice and their own note and that we can use our voices to heal ourselves. That’s the intention behind creating the project.”

After putting out a call on social media for people interested in joining her choir she was met with a sea of replies. Members were chosen in less-than conventional fashion: “I recruited people based on their interest in healing themselves and others, not necessarily on their musical experience or being seasoned performers” she says. Among those accepted into the ever-evolving collective, which was begun initially as a community choir, were the likes of Sly Stone’s daughter Novena Carmel, better known as a radio DJ for KCRW’s flagship breakfast show. Jimetta’s upbringing in the Pentecostal church, where she was a youth choir director, fed into her otherwise intuitive teachings of her songs and arrangements to the inexperienced members with help from the group’s seasoned organ player/co-musical director Jack Maeby.

Produced by Mario Caldato Jr. (Beastie Boys, Seu Jorge) and his wife Samantha Caldato the results show the incredible sense of togetherness and communal spirit that the group had built up over time in the rehearsal sessions. The six tracks of their debut album, a mixture of originals and rearranged covers, are performed in a wide-eyed mix of styles that reflect Jimetta’s vision for borderless music: “It’s new black classical music,” she explains. “It’s all the hodgepodge of being an African American but also with creativity and vision for the future. It has a taste of what is to come and what we can do. What we have gone through and who we are now.”

The group’s propensity for warm and buoyant sonics finds representation on album opener Let The Sunshine In, a sparkling rework of the Sons and Daughters of Lite’s deep jazz classic. Their version finds the group’s dynamic group harmonies offset with Allakoi Peete’s nimble afro-percussive touches and plenty of soul- drenched keys courtesy of pianist Quran Shaheed and organ player Jack Maeby. A similarly uplifting take on Rahsaan Roland Kirk’s choral jazz classic Spirits Up Above follows, with Maeby’s groove-laden organ lines inspiring some gorgeous group harmonies as well as prime solo turns from the likes of Kellye Hawkins, Zavier Wise, Tamara Blue, and Khalila Gardner.

Another Sons and Daughters of Lite cover follows as Jimetta leads the choir in the groove-drenched ode to self-affirmation Operation Feed Yourself. Written as a series of mantras for everyday living, the Jimetta-penned composition How Good It Is harnesses the full transformative power of music to generate a stirring and joyful ode to positivity - it’s chanted declarations bringing out some of the group’s most deeply-felt and affecting vocal performances over some superlative piano and organ accompaniment with a surprise feature vocal from Novena Carmel.

Jimetta’s talent for re-imagining songs in her own light is highlighted in Answer The Call, her vivid re-telling of Funkadelic’s Cosmic Slop: “When I listened to the original song, the Mom in the story was really going through it. I thought of how I could turn this into a song that can encompass the glorification of all mothers and I thought of the Egyptian cosmic goddess Nut. To that mother we’re all the seeds planted in the garden. Answering the call in your life is literally that. Finding out exactly what you’re here for through your heart.”

The album finishes with the standout original gospel number Ain’t Life Grand. Over swaying organs and clapped percussion Jimetta’s lyrical mantras serve to emphasise the good feelings that come to those with a grateful heart. Good feeling is an apt descriptor for the mood of the album as a whole. Its shining positivity provides a welcome ray of light in an increasingly dark world. “It’s a shortcut if you will to the better feelings” Jimetta says. “The hope that we need to keep pressing forward. We are saturated and inundated with images of chaos and destruction, death and hatred. There’s so much we can witness. So, I want to make sure that there is a representation sonically of the other parts that are still there to witness so that we can continue to build those things. So that the systems we support actually reflect what we want to experience. So it’s like: “Don’t give up and Let The Sunshine Into You” and then find out what your purpose is and answer the call.”

Toronto-based retro-soul artist Claire Davis shares her journey of self-worth and love on her debut album "Get it Right", out April 21st 2023, via LRK Records. This lively 10-track analog soul LP was recorded to an 8-track tape machine by engineer Braden Sauder in a converted garage- studio in Toronto, owned by the renowned instrumental jazz/hip-hop group, BADBADNOTGOOD. Featuring some of the city's top-flight musicians in the R&B/Soul scene, the album was laid down live-off-the-floor in one week during the winter of 2022. Davis shares, "My heart really lies in live performance so I wanted to recreate that experience as much as possible for this record by having the musicians all record together to tape. I feel like I personally thrive under the limitations that tape gives you; it offers the opportunity to
capture a vibe of a performance more so than chasing perfection. Knowing that my favourite soul records were recorded this way gives me an even deeper appreciation for the skill and talent involved in this process." "Get it Right" is a record born out of the faith that there's better things on the other side of fear.
Whether that's breaking toxic cycles or being truly honest about what is and isn't working in life. The first song written for the record was the title-track of the album which began as a jam between Davis on guitar, producer Scott McCannell on bass, and drummer Chino deVilla. "The lyrics were inspired by my relationship with my partner and the intention that we both have to work on healing ourselves in order to make our partnership work. I'd like to think that it's a love
song with a strong sense of maturity and understanding to it. And the whole record was really shaped around that idea of my relationships and experiences stemming from my own sense ofself-love add my desire to live and create from an authentic place."

The songs on the album feature co-writes from Scott McCannell, Kyla Charter, and Toronto production house Safe Spaceship Music, in addition to horn and background vocal arrangements by composer La-Nai Gabriel. Musicians include Heather Crawford on guitar,
Scott McCannell on bass, Adrian Hogan on keys, Chino de Villa on drums, Juan Carlos Medrano on percussion, Aphrose, Tegan Michelle Gordon and Chynna Lewis on background vocals, and horn section The Northern Soul Horns.

"Get it Right" follows up Davis' most recent 7" vinyl release of "Long Gone"/ "Times Have Changed" and most recent single release "Intuition" on LRK Records Huey Morgan played "Times Have Changed" on " The Huey Show " on BBC Radio Six
Tune of the week on David Bishops Street Sounds radio.
Karen Gabay played "Intuition" taken from the album on "The People" BBC Manchester

A gorgeous and gripping portrait of Fenne's last two years, Big Picture was pieced together in an effort to self-soothe. Tracked live in co-producer Brad Cook's North Carolina studio, the album delineates the phases of love and becomes a map of comfort vs claustrophobia. Though its creation took place amid personal and global turmoil, the ruminative yet candid Big Picture is Fenne's most cohesive, resolute work to date, both lyrically and sonically. "This isn't a sad album _ it's about as uplifting as my way of doing things will allow," she says. "These songs explore worry and doubt and letting go, but those themes are framed brightly." With confidence and quiet strength, each track provides an insight into Fenne's ever-changing view of love and, ultimately, its redefinition _ love as a process, not something to be lost and found. While the album was written alone in Fenne's Bristol flat - a fact intentionally reflected in its compact sonic quality - Big Picture was transformed from a solitary venture into a unifying collaboration during the recording process when she was joined by her touring band, Melina Dutere of Jay Som (mixing), Christian Lee Hutson (guitar and co production), and Katy Kirby (vocals). Notably, these 10 songs are Fenne's first and only to have been written over the course of a relationship; 2018's On Hold and 2020's BREACH both confront the pain of retrospection, saying goodbye to a love that's gone. Big Picture does the exact opposite _ rooted firmly in the present, it traces the narrative of two people trying their hardest not to implode, together. "This album is an observation of the way I think about love, the selfexamination that comes with closeness and the responsibilities involved in being a big part of someone else's small(er) world," summarizes Fenne. "It was written in a place of relative emotional stability - stability that felt unstable because of its newness, but also because of the global context. 2020 was the year of letting go, but we'd all already let go of so much and nothing felt like mine anymore. Writing always did, though, so that's what I chose to do."

ULTRAMARINE VINYL

A gorgeous and gripping portrait of Fenne's last two years, Big Picture was pieced together in an effort to self-soothe. Tracked live in co-producer Brad Cook's North Carolina studio, the album delineates the phases of love and becomes a map of comfort vs claustrophobia. Though its creation took place amid personal and global turmoil, the ruminative yet candid Big Picture is Fenne's most cohesive, resolute work to date, both lyrically and sonically. "This isn't a sad album _ it's about as uplifting as my way of doing things will allow," she says. "These songs explore worry and doubt and letting go, but those themes are framed brightly." With confidence and quiet strength, each track provides an insight into Fenne's ever-changing view of love and, ultimately, its redefinition _ love as a process, not something to be lost and found. While the album was written alone in Fenne's Bristol flat - a fact intentionally reflected in its compact sonic quality - Big Picture was transformed from a solitary venture into a unifying collaboration during the recording process when she was joined by her touring band, Melina Dutere of Jay Som (mixing), Christian Lee Hutson (guitar and co production), and Katy Kirby (vocals). Notably, these 10 songs are Fenne's first and only to have been written over the course of a relationship; 2018's On Hold and 2020's BREACH both confront the pain of retrospection, saying goodbye to a love that's gone. Big Picture does the exact opposite _ rooted firmly in the present, it traces the narrative of two people trying their hardest not to implode, together. "This album is an observation of the way I think about love, the selfexamination that comes with closeness and the responsibilities involved in being a big part of someone else's small(er) world," summarizes Fenne. "It was written in a place of relative emotional stability - stability that felt unstable because of its newness, but also because of the global context. 2020 was the year of letting go, but we'd all already let go of so much and nothing felt like mine anymore. Writing always did, though, so that's what I chose to do."

Tape

A gorgeous and gripping portrait of Fenne's last two years, Big Picture was pieced together in an effort to self-soothe. Tracked live in co-producer Brad Cook's North Carolina studio, the album delineates the phases of love and becomes a map of comfort vs claustrophobia. Though its creation took place amid personal and global turmoil, the ruminative yet candid Big Picture is Fenne's most cohesive, resolute work to date, both lyrically and sonically. "This isn't a sad album _ it's about as uplifting as my way of doing things will allow," she says. "These songs explore worry and doubt and letting go, but those themes are framed brightly." With confidence and quiet strength, each track provides an insight into Fenne's ever-changing view of love and, ultimately, its redefinition _ love as a process, not something to be lost and found. While the album was written alone in Fenne's Bristol flat - a fact intentionally reflected in its compact sonic quality - Big Picture was transformed from a solitary venture into a unifying collaboration during the recording process when she was joined by her touring band, Melina Dutere of Jay Som (mixing), Christian Lee Hutson (guitar and co production), and Katy Kirby (vocals). Notably, these 10 songs are Fenne's first and only to have been written over the course of a relationship; 2018's On Hold and 2020's BREACH both confront the pain of retrospection, saying goodbye to a love that's gone. Big Picture does the exact opposite _ rooted firmly in the present, it traces the narrative of two people trying their hardest not to implode, together. "This album is an observation of the way I think about love, the selfexamination that comes with closeness and the responsibilities involved in being a big part of someone else's small(er) world," summarizes Fenne. "It was written in a place of relative emotional stability - stability that felt unstable because of its newness, but also because of the global context. 2020 was the year of letting go, but we'd all already let go of so much and nothing felt like mine anymore. Writing always did, though, so that's what I chose to do."

Pink Blue Marbled Vinyl

Angelo is an EP, named after a car, featuring nine songs Brijean have crafted and carried with them through a period of profound change, loss, and relocation. It finds percussionist and singer Brijean Murphy and multi-instrumentalist/producer Doug Stuart processing the impossible the only way they know how: through rhythm and movement. The months surrounding the acclaimed release of Feelings, their full-length Ghostly International debut in 2021 which celebrated tender self-reflection and new possibilities, rang bittersweet with the absence of touring and the sudden passing of Murphy's father and both of Stuart's parents. In a haze of heartache, the duo left the Bay Area to be near family, resetting in four cities in under two years. Their to-go rig became their traveling studio and these tracks, along with Angelo, became their few constants. Whereas Feelings formed over collaborative jams with friends, Angelo's sessions presented Murphy and Stuart a chance to record at their most intimate, "to get us out of our grief and into our bodies," says Murphy. They explored new moods and styles, reaching for effervescent dance tempos and technicolor backdrops, vibrant hues in contrast to their more somber human experiences. Angelo beams with positivity and creative renewal _ a resourceful, collective answer to "what happens now?". Angelo the car is a 1981 Toyota Celica they got off Craigslist during their first stint in Los Angeles, where Murphy and Stuart have since settled. "Such a bro-y, `80s dude car, it's been super fun to drive around in a new town," Murphy says. "He's older than us, he's a classic, he's got a story." It is a spiritual vehicle with a cinematic appeal, first dropping them off in an alleyway for the scene-setting intro, "Which Way To The Club." The question is quickly resolved by "Take A Trip" as a cruising bassline mingles with crowd sounds, hand-claps, cuíca hiccups, whip-cracks, even a horse neigh. Brijean have found some club on this cross-dimensional trip - the kind of imagined space or chamber within one's self capable of "shifting a fraction of who you are," says Murphy. They wrote the track with the simple intention to be "as free as we could be," adds Stuart, likening the flip on the B section to a realm unlocked: "What if the world changed completely? You open the door to a new room." Next is "Shy Guy," a motivational anthem for the wallflowers among us. Murphy sets up the daydream: "We are in junior high, we're on the dance floor, what's going down, who is dancing, who is not, how are we gonna make them dance?" The narrator, the MC, hypes up the room as conga-driven rhythms bounce between languid synth and guitar lines. "Show me how to move...I feel something...I know you feel it too," Murphy sings sweetly, calling back to the opening lines of Feelings, and this time the audience chants it back. It is easy to picture Brijean performing this one - something they only got to do a handful of times until more recently, opening shows for Khruangbin and Washed Out, an experience they found informative. Murphy explains, "It was inspiring to be out there and let loose more. To see how people can expand their expression on stage gave me more liberty with how I viewed my musicianship. My role for so long was to be a backup percussionist, so why would I ever leave the drums, you know? But then after playing all these runs, you see these artists and realize you can, you have permission." "Angelo" and "Ooo La La" deliver the danciest stretch in Brijean's catalog to date. The title track adopts a deep house pulse replete with strings, hi-hats, and kicks. The latter opts for a funkier groove that foregoes verses in favor of warbled hums and extended breakdowns. What follows is perhaps the duo's dreamiest run, a comedown initiated with the honey-hued interlude "Colors" drifting into "Where Do We Go?", a tropicália reverie where Murphy contemplates the passage of time and space. It all culminates in "Caldwell's Way," a fond farewell to their Bay Area community - "a part of my life that I knew couldn't come back," says Murphy. Above shimmering organ sounds, lush strings, and the birdcall of their former neighborhood, she wistfully articulates the uncertainty of moving on by remembering the characters dear to them. There's the wisdom of their neighbor, Santos, who refused payment when helping them move out: "I'd rather have 100 friends than 100 dollars." And the song's namesake, Benjamin Caldwell Brown, a friend and club night cohort for many years. "I'm only miles away, maybe I'm just feeling lonely," the line resigns to warm nostalgia, and "Nostalgia" runs the closing credits to this healing and transportive collection.

Steve Gunn has always had one foot in indie rock and the other in an expansive improvisational scene. His songwriter albums alternate with freewheeling jams, most notably in his Gunn-Truscinski Duo, but are not confined to that. So when Gunn decided to revisit Other You, it made sense that he brought in some guests from the far side of the commercial/experimental spectrum to reimagine his songs. Nakama presents five tracks from that last album, reshaped by artists that Gunn admires. The process loosens the songs up considerably.

To start, he calls in Mdou Moctar’s backing band (the American bassist Mikey Coltun and the other guitarist Ahmoudou Madassane) for “Protection.” The song already had a bit of blues-y swagger to it, with sharper-edged guitar rhythms also heard on the ultra-smooth Other You, but here the heat has an otherworldly desert sheen. Its caravan-traveling rhythm sways from side to side, digging in to to the upbeats in a way that is both kinetic and also hypnotically still. There’s some crowd noise in the background, the knot of people that regularly forms when Mdou and his compatriots plug in from Agadez, and a few mournful afro-blues licks arcing off the vamp. But mostly it’s a cut that reminds you how much African guitar music Gunn has absorbed (listen to “Tommy’s Congo” from Way Out Weather for proof), and how well it fits with what he does.

Gunn also brings in Circuit Des Yeux’s Haley Fohr to reconfigure “Ever Feel That Way,” and she sets the song’s drifting melancholy amid pensive minor-key piano chords. She strips back the ambient whoosh that surrounds the original, slows down the pace and presents the song in startling, unadorned clarity. Her version removes some of the sticky, over-prettiness that I found so distracting in Other You. The melody is better, purer and more focused without the frills. There is also an electronic remake of “Reflection” from David Moore’s ambient ensemble Bing and Ruth, which traps Gunn’s fragile vocals in a shivering palace of synthetic tones. It’s enjoyable in its way, but the two sensibilities never quite meld together.

The best part comes when Gunn joins forces with Joshua Abrams’ Natural Information Society in remakes of “Good Wind” and “On the Way.” The former is a matter of subtle differences: the gentle pitch and roll under Gunn’s voice, the intermittent liquid runs of bass between widely spaced phrases. Abrams and his crew open up the jazz-leaning, reiterative possibilities under Gunn’s song, but they don’t change it fundamentally. “On the Way” is even stronger, a glowing drone and a pattern of hand drums enveloping the melody. It makes the music seem more spiritual, more resonant, more deep and full of mysteries. It was striking enough that I had to go back to Other You to hear again an album that had left me cold. This new version of “On the Way” didn’t change that chill, but it gave me an idea of how strong the songs might have sounded in another setting. (by Jennifer Kelly)

For Erika's second album "Anevite Void", she explores her live process as it permeates everything she does, including documenting the process of life in the elaborate sci fi mythology she created. Erika began performing live in Ectomorph in 1997 when she was gifted a TR-606 by BMG and asked to join the group. This grew to her building her own studio, performing solo as Erika, collaborating with people like Jay Ahern and Noncompliant, and performing as a member of Circle of Live. Her depth of thought and clarity of vision has led to her mentoring people on live performance through the In Bloom platform, where she has made a large impact on many up and coming musicians. "Anevite Void", Erika's new album, finds her organically writing songs for her live shows, allowing them to take shape through performance, and later recording them in the studio, making this the first album she has entirely written and produced on her own. Mixed by long time collaborator BMG, she finds this record as the launching point for a new process for her. Conceptually, this album was inspired by "the irregular life cycles created by three suns circling over a planetary organism that presents two major biomes: rocky crystalline desert, and deep layered forest, each of which exists above and/or below ground, depending on what phase the suns are in." From this realm the album took shape. She also chronicled this concept in drawings but found this painting by Detroit puckish punk legend Nai Sammon perfectly visually explained the concept, and chose it for the cover. She describes "each track is about an organic process that occurs: acts of survival of the biomes, or what happens between them and the multitude of other beings that they host." Erika is currently splitting her time between being based in Berlin and Detroit, is part of the triumvirate that runs Interdimensional Transmissions (BMG, Erika and Amber) that are releasing this record and produce legendary events such as No Way Back, Samhain and Return to the Source. She performs live and DJs and collaborates and oozes sonic truth in its many forms. Visit the "Anevite Void" in early 2023.

Future Jazzers, notorious experimentalists and outfield eccentrics stumble onto the dancefloor. In the 90s. In the UK.

From an electronic music perspective, the period 1992 to 1996 in the UK that this compilation celebrates, was one of dizzying sonic diversification.

It was also a particularly turbulent time in the UK, not only politically and economically, but also culturally too. Economic catastrophe in ‘92 was followed by widespread poverty, a cost of living crisis and countless political scandals. Meanwhile, John Major’s Tory government pandered to its political base via unpleasant, authoritarian legislation that seemingly sought to crush rave culture, alternative lifestyles, and traveller communities. The UK was not so much a ‘Happy Land’ – to quote the name of this compilation – as an angry and divided one. Sounds familiar, doesn’t it?

Throughout, the music created by producers based across these Isles remained uniquely British, speeding up a process begun in the late 1980s through the emergence of street soul, bleep & bass and breakbeat hardcore – musical styles whose roots in multicultural inner-city communities made them distinctly different from the Black American sounds that had inspired their creators. It was here, rather than in the indie pubs of Camden, that real musical revolutions were taking place.

This deep diving selection brings together some truly adventurous and original electronic music from this period, much of it very hard to find. Major label outings connect with white label oddities with ease. Perhaps it could even be argued that many of these unearthed gems fit more easily into DJ sets in 2023 than they ever did at the time. The off-kilter swing of Richard D James’ obscure and highly sought after Strider B outing, ‘Bradley’s Robot’ is joined by further rare cuts from Cabaret Voltaire and the Black Dog, and artists as diverse as Ultramarine, Herbert, Fretless AZM, and Radioactive Lamb, amongst others.

This collection has been lovingly selected, compiled and mastered for maximum sonic playback. This very special release boasts sublime pastoral themed artwork, as well as informative and passionate liner notes by celebrated music scribe Matt Anniss (‘Join The Future’).

By now a regular and esteemed presence among the Discrepant sprawling household via releases with projects such as Alförjs or Jibóia, Mestre André "resurrects" his O Morto alias (bad pun somewhat intended) after 2016 'The Forest, The People And The Spirits'. With a diaristic approach where field recordings function as remnants of his surrounding reality and subsequent memories to be processed and recontextualized into an expressionist whole, O Morto expands that previous Discrepant release sonic palette unto uncharted cartographies. 

Based on a number of field recordings taken during a life-changing trip to Morocco that felt like a fever dream, 'Dans La Gorge D'un Monstre' reenacts that hazy and hallucinatory mindframe through five tracks where no vivid recollection persists, tainted by the extrasensory feeling of not being quite there. A sonic fiction that goes from the processed cymbals and pummelling drums of 'The Gorge' with Andrés' mates in Jibóia, through moroccan Gimbri player Ayoub El Ayady and Khalid Boulhaman’s rattling Krakebs on 'Lila' and the slowed down Eccojams vibes of 'Out of the Atlas' to the dreamy aquatic soundscapes and arpeggios of the appropriately titled ‘Princesas Batráquio'. Comprising the whole of the B side, 'A Desert of Rain' is a slow evolving wonder where gong-like tones drift beneath scrambled transmissions of unknown origin, eventually giving way to synapse inducing drone motifs and scraps of realities collapsing among themselves - fire into water, a jetstream into steps, maybe none of this. 

Along with the LP, the release comes with a companion piece tape titled 'Iffrits Habitent', a more impressionistic and unadulterated account of the same travel that could well be this side of the mirror. Then again, maybe he never made it from the other side. Who's to know?

Brigid O'Neill's new album The Truth & Other Stories, recorded at Skinny Elephant Studios in Nashville with Neilson Hubbard in the producer's chair, cannot help but be influenced by the times which informed it, 'very few people escaped being affected by the pandemic, writers included.

Somehow the experiences of it seeped through onto our work and I feel The Truth and Other Stories is no exception in that regard.'
That said, this is not specifically an album about Covid or the pandemic, 'I was fascinated by the concept of 'truth' and intrigued by the concept of everyone having a different version of their truth....a personal viewpoint, their own narrative, their own story. The title plays a bit with shades of meaning - a 'counter positioning' if you like. The 'other stories' may challenge the truth, but 'the truth'
retains that sense of the absolute. In the songs I hope to present the realities of different characters through short stories. As I moved through the pandemic however, different stories came to light and sometimes the focus would shift.

Ultimately though, I have been living with these stories and these characters for some time now.'
Neilson Hubbard as producer was an obvious choice for O'Neill. A growing relationship with Nashville had seen her writing, playing and developing relationships with the many truly great musicians available across Music City.

"Being in Nashville with a producer like Neilson who has such an intuitive feel for that music, and with access to musicians who simply live and breathe it, seemed like a good idea. I'd met Neilson a few times through our mutual friend and musician Ben Glover, and it was quickly clear we would get along and had a similar attitude to the music production process. When choosing a music
producer, listening to their catalogue of works is crucial, but so too I think is that 'gut feeling' and knowledge that you can connect. When I sent Neilson my music, I knew he 'got it' and I knew I was in safe hands." Recent years have seen Brigid O'Neill gaining a deserved reputation as one of Ireland's finest songwriters. Reviews of her critically acclaimed latest releases
have reaffirmed that the gifted artist is one of the most versatile, unique and fearless storytellers on the island. Her genre-spanning music appeals to multiple generations, effortlessly weaving elements of folk, country and jazz into relatable tales of happiness, heartbreak and the human condition.

American singer-songwriter, poet, and photographer Thomas Meluch, known musically as Benoît Pioulard, returns with his most structured and vocal release to date. Titled »Eidetic,« a word denoting the ability to recall mental images with extraordinarily rich precision, the album presents unprecedented clarity and vitality for Benoît Pioulard. To access its thematic ground, Meluch looked inward with an affinity towards the people he loves during a period marked by his move from Seattle to Brooklyn in 2019. The resulting work engages with the universe's unflinching mortality and, as he says, »the ways it has modified and improved my relationships, especially with family.« Embodied by the creek, leaves, and ferns of the cover photography — taken in Michigan’s Burchfield Park, where he and his dad used to hike and »muse on existence« — the music glistens and unfurls with the flow of life he’s come to know. »Eidetic« is the culmination of Meluch's craft both as a producer and writer. An evocative sonic vocabulary meets deft lyrical introspection, articulated with the nuance, vulnerability, and confidence of a longtime artist hitting a stride.

Meluch has continually refined, redefined, and adjusted the focus of his gentle pop project over the last 20 years. Recorded primarily with guitar, tapes, and voice — and spanning labels with albums for Kranky, Morr Music, Beacon Sound, and Past Inside the Present — his catalog flows seamlessly between ambient improvisation and pop composition. Much like the analog photos that often accompany his releases, songs can feel dreamily softened and distant, and others beautifully vivid and detailed. 2021 full-length »Bloodless« found Meluch deep in droning decay, expressive yet wordless. With »Eidetic,« he swings back to sharpened forms. Lush banks of treated guitar and synth brush against hushed percussion; there is mist in the distance, but everything up close is intricately constructed and radiant. Meluch's voice is notably forward in the mix — a warm and calming tenor, a harmonic coo more than a whisper — ever-observant and actively processing.

To record much of the album, Meluch filled a cabin in rural Maine with his usual setup of simple percussion, a couple of Fender electrics, and a parlor guitar made by his friend who does bespoke luthier work. The modest utility is what he knows best, and here he pushes the output to its most pristine potential.

»Eidetic« opens in a swirl of familiar haze; »Margaret Murie« eases listeners in, as lush and verdant as the landscapes conserved by its famed namesake. With the setting established, Meluch, the narrator, enters the foreground with »Crux,« a tender piece written about finding new motivations in a new city. »We covet this rare green hue / Here at the farthest point from home,« he sings above a reassuring pattern of strums and percussion. Meluch's prose shines on the swiftly-moving »Nameless,« inspired by the neurological effects that came with the antiquated practice of manufacturing mercury mirrors; »folks would slowly go insane while looking into their own reflections every day,« he adds. The idea informs a series of surreal abstractions before everything drops out in the final minute, and we are left free-floating in eerie nothingness.

Across the album, labyrinthine lyrical ponderings scatter with dazzling imagery, artfully blurring scenes from world history with Meluch's more personal, present-day. The propulsive and earnest »Thursday Night« catches his mind overly active and too stoned, riffing on black holes and songwriting itself. »Halve« references the splitting of the atom, what he considers »the beginning of man's downfall,« and the unrealized initiative proposed by the US government that would have created 'nuclear refuges' in its national parks. Meluch's loved ones weave throughout; »Tet« holds his father's experience in Vietnam and its lasting effects. »Lillian Isola« touches on his maternal grandmother's spinal curvature, and »Pastel Dust« navigates the wake of his cat, who died on New Year's Eve 2020.

At first blush, Meluch's atmospheric and melodic sensibilities resonate purely in their own right. Upon closer meditation, his ability to render stories — many of which surround human tragedy, misfortune, and understanding — through the prism of his poetry makes »Eidetic« even more rewarding.

Dark Green Vinyl

American singer-songwriter, poet, and photographer Thomas Meluch, known musically as Benoît Pioulard, returns with his most structured and vocal release to date. Titled »Eidetic,« a word denoting the ability to recall mental images with extraordinarily rich precision, the album presents unprecedented clarity and vitality for Benoît Pioulard. To access its thematic ground, Meluch looked inward with an affinity towards the people he loves during a period marked by his move from Seattle to Brooklyn in 2019. The resulting work engages with the universe's unflinching mortality and, as he says, »the ways it has modified and improved my relationships, especially with family.« Embodied by the creek, leaves, and ferns of the cover photography — taken in Michigan’s Burchfield Park, where he and his dad used to hike and »muse on existence« — the music glistens and unfurls with the flow of life he’s come to know. »Eidetic« is the culmination of Meluch's craft both as a producer and writer. An evocative sonic vocabulary meets deft lyrical introspection, articulated with the nuance, vulnerability, and confidence of a longtime artist hitting a stride.

Meluch has continually refined, redefined, and adjusted the focus of his gentle pop project over the last 20 years. Recorded primarily with guitar, tapes, and voice — and spanning labels with albums for Kranky, Morr Music, Beacon Sound, and Past Inside the Present — his catalog flows seamlessly between ambient improvisation and pop composition. Much like the analog photos that often accompany his releases, songs can feel dreamily softened and distant, and others beautifully vivid and detailed. 2021 full-length »Bloodless« found Meluch deep in droning decay, expressive yet wordless. With »Eidetic,« he swings back to sharpened forms. Lush banks of treated guitar and synth brush against hushed percussion; there is mist in the distance, but everything up close is intricately constructed and radiant. Meluch's voice is notably forward in the mix — a warm and calming tenor, a harmonic coo more than a whisper — ever-observant and actively processing.

To record much of the album, Meluch filled a cabin in rural Maine with his usual setup of simple percussion, a couple of Fender electrics, and a parlor guitar made by his friend who does bespoke luthier work. The modest utility is what he knows best, and here he pushes the output to its most pristine potential.

»Eidetic« opens in a swirl of familiar haze; »Margaret Murie« eases listeners in, as lush and verdant as the landscapes conserved by its famed namesake. With the setting established, Meluch, the narrator, enters the foreground with »Crux,« a tender piece written about finding new motivations in a new city. »We covet this rare green hue / Here at the farthest point from home,« he sings above a reassuring pattern of strums and percussion. Meluch's prose shines on the swiftly-moving »Nameless,« inspired by the neurological effects that came with the antiquated practice of manufacturing mercury mirrors; »folks would slowly go insane while looking into their own reflections every day,« he adds. The idea informs a series of surreal abstractions before everything drops out in the final minute, and we are left free-floating in eerie nothingness.

Across the album, labyrinthine lyrical ponderings scatter with dazzling imagery, artfully blurring scenes from world history with Meluch's more personal, present-day. The propulsive and earnest »Thursday Night« catches his mind overly active and too stoned, riffing on black holes and songwriting itself. »Halve« references the splitting of the atom, what he considers »the beginning of man's downfall,« and the unrealized initiative proposed by the US government that would have created 'nuclear refuges' in its national parks. Meluch's loved ones weave throughout; »Tet« holds his father's experience in Vietnam and its lasting effects. »Lillian Isola« touches on his maternal grandmother's spinal curvature, and »Pastel Dust« navigates the wake of his cat, who died on New Year's Eve 2020.

At first blush, Meluch's atmospheric and melodic sensibilities resonate purely in their own right. Upon closer meditation, his ability to render stories — many of which surround human tragedy, misfortune, and understanding — through the prism of his poetry makes »Eidetic« even more rewarding.

Repress!

“This album has been built, robbed, destroyed, rebuilt, held up, postponed, cancelled, shelved, bootlegged, analyzed, exploited, slept on, supported, patiently awaited, and appreciated, long before you got your hands on this slim neat little package.

This collection of thoughts, songs and relationships has literally been on the verge of completion since 1997. It was intended to finally be released in 1999. Most of the songs were written between 1995 and 1998. However, from the first to last verse, it reaches as far back as 1988 and stretches forward up to 2001. Throughout this tedious, relatively arduous process, the people involved in this project have successfully delivered the intended message that was conceived, forged, and galvanized through its delivery. The understanding is the best part. Enjoy!”

Originally intended for release in 1999, The Best Part was shelved multiple times due to label politics, until it was finally released in 2001, as J-Live points out in his prologue above. Now it’s getting the much deserved re-issue treatment.

With an All-Star production team featuring Pete Rock, Prince Paul, DJ Premier, DJ Spinna, 88 Keys & Grap Luva, along with J’s crafted and precise lyricism, this is one not to miss!

The album serves as the recorded introduction of ex-Last Chance To Reason vocalist Michael Lessard to The Contortionist fold, ‘though he’s taken the stage live with his new band mates for well over a year already. Lessard lends his voice to the signature song craft developed by the original core of the band, guitarist Cameron Maynard and the brotherly duo of Robby and Joey Baca, on guitar and drums, respectively. They’re joined by new additions Jordan Eberhardt(bass) and Eric Guenther (keyboards).

“I can say that Mike is the most talented vocalist we've had in the band,” Robby declares unequivocally. “We’ve progressed, which has been a real, organic process. It will be cool
for people to hear the kind of songwriting and music we are creating with The Contortionist enhanced by a vocalist who is totally up to par.”

A different producer was drafted each time The Contortionist has made an album. Language was created together at North Carolina’s The Basement Recording with producer Jamie King(Between The Buried And Me, The Human Abstract, He Is Legend). As taste maker blog MetalSucks noted in a post with the headline, “Drop What You’re Doing and Listen to the New Contortionist Single Right Now!,” Language embraces the spacey adventurous flourishes of Intrinsic, with concise and streamlined certainty.

The album’s first single, “Language I,” was also the first song the group crafted for the album. The product of much time and deliberation,every moment transitions seamlessly to the next. “Primordial Sound” boasts an emphasis on chord progressions with key signature modulations, and yet it has an accessible rock n’ roll vibe and swing. “Thrive” is a wicked blend of the atmospheric heft of Deftones and The Contortionist’s own well established progressive attack.

Crackled radio-like transmissions from Norway's rural hinterland. Juni Habel's fragile finger-picked lullabies warm themselves by the open fire with her rich intimate voice atop twinkling arrangements and strange percussive instrumentation. Like glowing embers in the dark, these songs are odes to life and death, the beauty of belonging and human kinship with nature.
Push open the door of the old school house in the remote flatlands of Southern Norway that Juni Habel shares with her close-knit family and climb the stairs; you’ll find yourself in a former classroom – the home of her new album Carvings. A songbook of life’s lessons offering an expansive perspective as it navigates personal shadows between darkness and light.
“I knew I wanted to write from a larger perspective. I wanted to write about the course of nature, and the people in it - life and death, beauty and tragedy.” Juni says, “loss - the search for the dead - grasping to find the words, and liberation of giving that up. I also wanted to explore my own kinship with nature - a sense of belonging, and notice what is around with gratitude and zest for life.”
This unyielding spirit of family and nature is etched into Carvings’ unschooled approach. With beauty in mock-simplicity and radiating humanity like the music of Tia Blake, Julie Byrne or Myriam Gendron, Juni’s songwriting unfolds on her own terms, and is the sound of facing whatever mother nature decides will find its way to the top of the list.
Recorded between the classroom (‘big hall’), the hallway on the 2nd floor, and her bedroom with simple gear and vocals laid down in a single take. Co-producer, musician and singer Stian Skaaden, became her melodic confidant and experimental co-conspirator halving the burden by building the album’s layers through blowing a pipe, playing bow on the banjo, bottles or glockenspiel. “With this album I wanted to lean deeper into the process. The title Carvings illustrates thoroughness. It was a vulnerable project, to strive for creating something truly beautiful, to pour my soul into it,” she says.
Uninhibited by the possibility of ‘mistakes’ and jamming until she struck gold, Juni confidently discovered the truest expression of herself. “It takes courage to do things ‘wrong’ with uncertainty, record lyrics which are strange but feel right, on crappy mics, it can be good to fumble a bit,” Juni says before tellingly, “the joy of playing is quite fragile. I have to protect it. You can't use your head, you have to be inside the song.”

Making Circles of Our Own is the new upcoming sophomore record from Northern Ireland's New Pagans. From the very beginning the Belfast’s indie rock outfit intent was clear: to fuse their collective creative experiences and emit a confidence in both their sound and aesthetic. New Pagans in essence is a movement, challenging issues surrounding relationships, equality and history all wrapped in massive riffs and soaring dynamics shaped into their own brand of alternative, post punk and indie rock — all encompassing on the bands incoming second album ‘Making Circles of Our Own’. With the dawning of 2023 on the horizon, New Pagans have been building off the success of 2020’s debut album ‘The Seed, The Vessel, The Roots and All’ - which helped secure them as winners of ‘Best Live Act’ at the NI Music Prize in 2020 - and emerge invigorated anew. Latest single ‘Better People’ is a stunning blast of positivity that celebrates their ability to pull together, create communities and look after one another. Often outspoken and not shy of protesting the dark themes that infiltrate modern Irish life, singer & lyricist Lyndsey Mcdougall implores us to endeavour to be just as the title suggests. And with this new era comes their staggering second album ‘Making Circles Of Our Own’, which sees the five-piece abandon the chaos of 2020 for a moment in search of hope in the future. Recorded and self-produced at Badlands Studios in the Glens of Antrim in Ireland (the band's HQ) by band members Cahir O'Doherty and Allan McGreevy, New Pagans continue to expand their DIY position. This time around they also invited Sam Petts Davis (Radiohead, Warpaint, Frank Ocean) to mix the songs and the result is an energetic and infectious collection of anthems.

With One Day, Fucked Up have delivered one of the most energizing and intricate albums of their career, a massive-sounding record that arrives in deceptively small confines. The Canadian hardcore legends have been known for their epic scale in the past, so it might be a surprise that Fucked Up’s sixth studio album is their shortest to date, written and recorded in the confines of one literal day (hence the title). Don’t mistake size for substance, though: The band’s sound has only gotten bigger, more hard-charging, with even denser thickets of melody. “I wanted to see what I could record in literally one day.” That singular idea came to mind for guitarist Mike Haliechuk in the closing months of 2019. Haliechuk got himself into a studio and proceeded to write and record the record’s ten tracks over three eight-hour sessions, reconnecting with the core the band’s songwriting essence in the process. Initially, Fucked Up vocalist Damian Abraham was also set to complete his vocals in similar fashion—that is, before the lockdowns of 2020 took place. As it turns out, the isolation yielded creative dividends, as Abraham returned to contributing lyrics as well for the first time since 2014’s Glass Boys. “It almost felt like it might be the last time I’d ever get to record vocals for anything,” Abraham says of the stakes he felt while putting his part to tape, before reflecting on how he approached the lyrical process: “What do I want to say to friends who aren’t here anymore? What do I want to say to myself?” Over swarms of tuneful noise that evoke Sonic Youth circa Daydream Nation, Abraham lets loose on gentrification in “Lords of Kensington,” which was inspired by an “incredible” Toronto neighborhood that was regularly subject to life-ruining police surveillance and structural violence. “The police chief during that era he just opened a cannabis store,” Abraham explains. “It’s so cynical and gross, what society has come to but by being in a band, we’re culpable in changing the neighborhood, too, since the punk spaces and cool happenings that pop up are part of gentrification. Are you building a culture? Or are you ruining something that’s already been there?” Then there’s the dusky burn of “Cicada,” a sonic cousin to Dose Your Dreams’ excellent standout “The One I Want Will Come for Me” that features Haliechuk taking lead-vocal duty. The song is dedicated to lost friends, and in his words, it’s about “what life is like after you lose people, and our responsibility to carry them forward into the future, using the things they taught us as a light. I like to imagine the sound of cicadas as a metaphor for our strange life in the subculture we all just live these weird little hidden lives under the dirt, and then once in a generation, one of us gets to bust out of the dirt and intone their song so loud that it can be heard all over.” One Day is an undeniable work of confidence from a band that continues to operate at the top of their game, making music that’s guaranteed to last a lifetime and beyond.

In May 2020 Cocoon Recordings released the third album of Harald Björk. With the club scene on Covid-hold , tours canceled and all of our favorite DJ’s locked up at home… not the optimal conditions to release an album on a nr.1 world wide club empire as Cocoon. How ever we decided not to let a virus kill our beloved culture, as Mr. Sven Väth put it „I would like to share with you the album of Harald Björk… which has soothed me and I hope will also give you a soundtrack for these uneasy days“. It felt right to release it.

The release was shrinked from a thought of vinyl box to a digital release with future plans on vinyl. However covid decided to stay and time went. The queue at the vinyl factories didn’t make the process easier… But at one point the dream factory of Kranglan Broadcast decided, enough! , the world has to keep on dreaming. And what is a better way to embrace dreams then to release a vinyl full of of dreamers, groundbreaking in their corners of the electronic umberella. Dreamers doing their thing not even looking at the norm or what’s the recent hype.

Aditional info:
Houndtooth finest Throwing Snow who Harald met in New York 2013 during their term at RBMA brings a bassdriven rollercoaster with the arpeggios from Spektrum bouncing like rubberballs through an impressive broken drum work. The remix came delivered with a text saying „I like my drums slamming“ and so do we.

Ada takes the eteric pads of Waldmeister and place them in a auditive dreamstate, an emotional hybrid of space and vacuum. Large feelings, yet so close. It builds, stretches and builds until we are shown the enlighted truth in the end of the tunnel. Harald is a long time fan and colector of Adas music which he got to know through the lovely label of Areal and has continued to love through the Pampa era. First remix from Ada on Kranglan was the epic remake of Sabor Latino, Sabor de Ada! We are delighted to have her art on the label once again.

The pandemic 2020 took away the most fun of beeing in the club scene, sharing stages with brilliant interesting dreamers showing and exchanging visions performing music. Under these strange conditions Molø and Harald ended up sharing a physical stage at the stream festival United We Stream. One thing led to the other and Harald took a deep dive in to Molø‘s great melodic techno universe. Some times you find gold in your own hometown. Molø’s take on Waldmeister build on the mellow arpeggio from the original track and brings them to a perfect chilled out afterhours. Imagine watching the sunrise to this beauty.

Swedes are a people of high integracy but as loyal citizens we allways attend formal events by the state. Skudge and Harald met at the Swedish National Radio price anouncement, both nominated for „electronic act of the year 2011“. It was an akward event with radio interviews and canapés, not very techno, the signum of Skudge. How ever Skudge won it all leaving both Avicii and Swedish House Mafia empty handed. Landberg, the swing king of Skudge is the kind of person that will tell you why the TR-909 has to be master clock to get the right groove in a techno performance, if you ask… which you do ??! If you’re looking for techno with groove look no further, Skudge is king! In his take on Walking Path he display the power of minimalistic dirty grooves, a 909 and a 303 what else do we need?

The 12“ vinyl comes with a fresh re-master of album single Medan Du Sov and an unreleased bonus track, Drifting, a balearic sundazed love story.

An Appointment with Mr Yeats sees the words of W B Yeats, one of Ireland's greatest literary sons, merged with the music of The Waterboys, one of Britain and Ireland's greatest rock bands, in a truly unique and ambitious musical undertaking. The album was originally released in 2011, and has been fully remastered for re-issue, and now contains 6 previously unreleased bonus tracks. The Waterboys vocalist Mike Scott, first delivered a new dimension to Yeats' poetry in 1988, when he wrote a musical accompaniment for the classic poem The Stolen Child, during the making of the Waterboys seminal album 'Fisherman's Blues'. Five years later he set another Yeats poem to music, Love and Death, which appeared on their 'Dream Harder' album. Over the years, Scott had been quietly crafting a wealth of material similarly based on the writings of Yeats. A number of these were performed by him at the Abbey Theatre during the Yeats International Festival in 1991, but most had remained in Scott's private songbook awaiting the right vehicle. An Appointment with Mr. Yeats was that long-awaited context. Scott's love of literature is firmly embedded throughout the work of The Waterboys. He has also put the writings of Robert Burns, James Stephens, Kenneth Grahame and George MacDonald to song. Speaking on his literary influences and loves, Scott explained: "I grew up in a house full of books so literature - and language - have always been important to me. Working with other peoples' words is something that comes as natural to me as working with my own. In a way it's even more immediate; I've always found writing music an easier process than the writing of lyrics, and setting words of the quality of Yeats' to music is an enormous privilege and treat." An Appointment with Mr. Yeats is a unique and memorable opportunity for lovers of great music and great literature to celebrate the union of song and word in one spectacular record.

Running Back regular Feater aka Daniel Meuzard puts his newly-transplanted studio through its paces for the first time since relocating from Vienna, swapping out the bustle of the city for the fresh mountain breeze of the West Alps. The Positive People EP proves that a change is as good as a rest, as the wide open nature not only had some rejuvenating effects on the creative process - it also gave Feater some room in his head to ponder questions about nature, nurture, and whether our inner morality is externally programmed.

The taut jazz funk of opening track Coding springs into action like the montage music of a lost ‘70s TV show, while the title track Positive People plays on the ambiguity of its title, with cascading synth notes, tastefully dubby 303 stabs, and an afro-cuban drum figure that forms the foundation for a spaced-out dancefloor workout. It's a combo of tracks that should appeal to chat room moderators and serotonin programmers alike.

Expensive Zeit kicks off sounding like grime maverick XTC had been brought up on Murder Capital electro rather than East London garage - before it morphs into a bumpin electrofunk and percussion session, with its sights set firmly on an aquatic worm hole. The EP rounds out with Decline All Cookies, which breaks out of a flanged-out half-time drum 'n' effects intro to reveal a lush chord progression, flipping a soul jazz piano mood into a trippy slice of modern instrumental funk.


Can man be the master of his own destiny? It seems with this change of location and musical direction, Feater might just have figured out the answer.

Swords and metal go hand in hand. That’s what crossover thrash band High Command say, having turned heads with their debut album Beyond The Wall of Desolation (2019). But it’s not solely metal music which influences the band, who cite the lustful violence of Robert E. Howard, Michel Moorcock, Jack Vance and many other legendary pulp writers of the 20th century as an impetus for their expansive storytelling.
“People would also be surprised to hear we drew quite a bit of inspiration from the music of Ennio Morricone, especially in regards to writing some more of the epic, grandiose passages and chord progressions.” says the band.
Now, with their second album, Eclipse of the Dual Moons, the band take their love of storytelling a step further, deepening and widening the world of Secartha, the realm of High Command’s songs. The band place themselves as omniscient narrators of the world they have created, and say that they are inseparable from Secartha and its people. “It’s one thing to make a good metal record, but it’s another to put on top of it a sort of overarching story that makes sense to listeners. The whole High Command project is enriched by lyrics articulating characters, a world, and trials faced within it. We want our records to be immersive and leave listeners with a feeling they’ve experienced something bigger than the music.”
It’s not just a question of widening the world, which the band first started exploring on The Secartha Demos (2016); Eclipse of the Dual Moons sees High Command honing their process to a fine art “it’s like we started with chiseling a rock… this record is the moment the rock in question begins to look like an actual sculpture.”

Swords and metal go hand in hand. That’s what crossover thrash band High Command say, having turned heads with their debut album Beyond The Wall of Desolation (2019). But it’s not solely metal music which influences the band, who cite the lustful violence of Robert E. Howard, Michel Moorcock, Jack Vance and many other legendary pulp writers of the 20th century as an impetus for their expansive storytelling.
“People would also be surprised to hear we drew quite a bit of inspiration from the music of Ennio Morricone, especially in regards to writing some more of the epic, grandiose passages and chord progressions.” says the band.
Now, with their second album, Eclipse of the Dual Moons, the band take their love of storytelling a step further, deepening and widening the world of Secartha, the realm of High Command’s songs. The band place themselves as omniscient narrators of the world they have created, and say that they are inseparable from Secartha and its people. “It’s one thing to make a good metal record, but it’s another to put on top of it a sort of overarching story that makes sense to listeners. The whole High Command project is enriched by lyrics articulating characters, a world, and trials faced within it. We want our records to be immersive and leave listeners with a feeling they’ve experienced something bigger than the music.”
It’s not just a question of widening the world, which the band first started exploring on The Secartha Demos (2016); Eclipse of the Dual Moons sees High Command honing their process to a fine art “it’s like we started with chiseling a rock… this record is the moment the rock in question begins to look like an actual sculpture.”

Second Editions presents a new collaborative work by Marja Ahti and Judith Hamann.

After their distinguished duet ‘Portals’ for Cafe Oto's Takuroku label, ‘A coincidence is perfect, intimate attunement’ is a wonderful sophomore collaborative work pieced together over two years of changing seasons, ideas, moods, and feelings. The release is formed from a shifting field of sound correspondence that pivots on moments of coincidence, of a tuning in.

What are we opening ourselves to when we tune in to sound? How can one be truly open to a sound? How can the activity of recording move beyond notions of capture and release into more generative frames? Rather than a tool purposed for preservation or ‘conservation’ of memory, of time and place, can recording sound instead form new vibrant or vibratory spaces of attunement?

‘A coincidence..’ is an LP length composition of multiple interlocking parts, created through exchange, alignment, unpredictability: the title borrowed from poet Fanny Howe falling right into place, a flock of birds in flight, pitches matched and moved across different geographies and temporal frames. Marja & Judith have created an intuitive, lyrical longform piece that considers the idea of attunement itself as, in some sense, the smallest form of measure or denominator connecting their respective practices: across field recording, just intonation, electronic sonorities and instrumental bodies. ‘A coincidence..’ reflects a sense of a willingness to tune in to impulses given, or gifted to the other, a position that embraces an intimate synchronicity.

Recordings & correspondances between 2020-2022. Mixed by Marja Ahti & Judith Hamann. Mastered and cut by Anne Taegert at Dubplates & Mastering in Berlin, 2022. Title quotation from Night Philosophy by Fanny Howe, Divided Publishing, 2020. Photogrpahy by Joshua Bonnetta. Thanks to Nino Bulling, Niko-Matti Ahti and leo. The work was supported by Kone Foundation, Akademie Schloss Solitude and NEUSTART KULTUR.

Marja Ahti (b. 1981) is a Swedish-Finnish composer and sound artist based in Turku, Finland. Ahti works with field recordings and other acoustic sound material combined with synthesizers and electronic feedback in order to find the space where these sounds start to communicate. She makes music that rides on waves of slowly warping harmonies and mutating textures – rough edged, yet precise compositions, rich in detail. Ahti has presented her music in many different contexts around Europe, in Japan and the United States. She is currently active in the duo Ahti & Ahti with her partner Niko-Matti Ahti and in the artist/organizer collective Himera.

Judith Hamann is a cellist and performer/composer from Narrm/Melbourne in so-called Australia, currently based in Berlin. Their work encompasses performance, improvisation, electro-acoustic composition, field recording, electronics, site specific generative work, and micro-tonal systems in a deeply considered process based approach to creative practice. Currently Judith’s work is focused on an examination of expressions and manifestations of 'shaking’ in solo performance practice, a collection of works for cello and humming, as well as ongoing research surrounding ‘collapse’ as a generative imaginary surface, and the ‘de-mastering’ of bodies (human and non-human) in European settler-colonial heritage instrumental practice and pedagogy. Judith likes working with and thinking-with other artists which sometimes includes people like Joshua Bonnetta, Dennis Cooper, Charles Curtis, Golden Fur (with James Rushford and Sam Dunscombe), Lori Goldston, the Harmonic Space Orchestra, Sarah Hennies, Yvette Janine Jackson, and Anike Joyce Sadiq.

Felix Laband’s The Soft White Hand is the masterwork of an artist who expresses himself through musical and artistic collage acting together to reinterpret his sources and to express significant elements of his own personal story.

Released by Munich-based Compost Records, the 14-track album is Laband’s first full-length offering since the critically acclaimed Deaf Safari in 2015. It is heralded by the single “Derek and Me”, and is being pressed on vinyl for distribution globally.

In The Soft White Hand Laband works with source materials that will be familiar to those who know his previous four records – Thin Shoes in June (2001), 4/4 Down the Stairs (2002), Dark Days Exit (2005) and especially Deaf Safari which reached deep into the South Africa scene and its political culture to inspire its vocal and music sampling. However, the disengagement he felt from his homeland during his latest album’s creation – an abiding sense of untethered-ness to place and space, exquisitely rendered in tracks like “Death of a Migrant” – is perceptible in Laband’s desire to illuminate instead aspects of his own life.

“For this album, my source material became almost autobiographical as opposed to African statements I’ve worked with previously,” says the artist. “I have sampled a lot from documentaries from the 80s crack epidemic in impoverished African American communities and believe my work speaks unapologetically for the lost and marginalised, for those who are the forgotten casualties of the war on drugs. In the past, I have had my issues with substance abuse, and I know first-hand about the nightmares and fears, what it feels like to be isolated and abandoned.”

Few artists have managed to air these intimate aspects of their life so luminously as Laband does in tracks like “5 Seconds Ago”, “They Call Me Shorty” and in the strange and meditative “Dreams of Loneliness”. “I’ve been building this weird, autobiographical story using other people talking. It’s kind of humorous but it is also sad and beautiful,” says Laband.

Yet, as in all of Laband’s recorded output, the delineations between emotions are never starkly drawn and The Soft White Hand is also shot through with beauty. Nature appears in recordings made in his garden in the intimate early morning hours, whether as in the calls of the Hadada Ibis and other birdsong in “Prelude” or of the vertical-tail-cocking bird in “Derek and Me”. The last is a wonderful track with Derek Gripper, the South African experimental classical guitarist of international renown, whose 2020 song “Fanta and Felix” imagines a meeting between Fanta Sacko and Laband.

Laband’s eloquence in reinterpreting classical composers such as Beethoven in “We Know Major Tom’s a Junkie” is another thrilling aspect of the new record. “I’ve been properly exploring classical music on this album,” explains Laband, “taking melodies from classical compositions and reinterpreting them”. A fresh quality comes to his work through this sonic adventuring: the tender manipulation of the mundaneness of the computer’s AI voice to reimagine and reinvent iconic lyrics and melodies in strange and unexpected configurations.

The Soft White Hand is Laband’s most cohesive body of work to date. Yet it remains, in its sheer artistic scope, impossible to describe fully. Darkness abuts the gossamer light. A song that summons the sunrise and all the hope of a new day could also be about the final dipping down of the sun that portends a troubled night ahead. Interludes are invitations to expand outwards or shift inwards. Mistakes and “weird fuckups” in the sound are cherished as convincing statements against what Laband calls the “grossness” of perfect sound in modern music.

For this world-leading electronic artist, the boundaries are unfixed. He is inspired by the German Dada artist, Hannah Höch, who memorably declared: “I wish to blur the firm boundaries which we self-certain people tend to delineate around all we can achieve.” His music consequently reflects a primal artistic impulse that is also visible in Laband’s considerable visual art output as seen recently in several solo exhibitions such as that held in the No End Gallery in Johannesburg in 2019 and in the works he produced during his 2018 Nirox Foundation Artists Residency. “My music is always about collage, as is my art,’’ he affirms. “Everything I do is collage. It is a medium I find very interesting because you are taking history and distorting it and changing its meaning and turning it upside down and back to front.” In her book Recollections of My Non-Existence, Rebecca Solnit calls collage “literally a border art”; it is “an art of what happens when two things confront each other or spill onto each other”.

With The Soft White Hand, Laband is confirming his singular ability to achieve this in both art and music, melting the divisions between the two creative disciplines until they become one. He is also affirming his belief that an album of music should be more than a collection of unrelated tracks, but should unfold a fully integrated, cohesive story as in the song cycles of the great classical composers. In doing so, he claims his position as one of the most significant artists working today.

Artist Statement – Felix Laband – August 2022

When the Khmer Rouge took their captives for processing, they identified their class enemies by looking at their hands. If they were sunburned, rough and calloused, they were those of a peasant, a proletarian to be spared. But if they were soft and white, then they were those of a city-dweller, an intellectual or bourgeois, an adversary to be liquidated.

In calling this album The Soft White Hand, I was reflecting on the Cambodian genocide and how it resonates in contemporary South Africa. The apartheid era is over, and gone with it is white political domination. Yet economic and social privilege is still held in soft white hands. But those who grasp it know just how tenuous is their hold, how it singles them out, and my music reflects their subconscious fears, the stress and guilt of clinging on to what others envy and desire.

The soft white hand of the title suggests to me a further image, one that relates to all of postcolonial Africa. In my mind’s eye, I see the soft, duplicitous handshake of the smooth representatives of the superpowers making deals and promising gifts that benefit only them, and not their African dupes.
Yet, soaring above the wailing of sirens sampled from the first day of the invasion of Ukraine, my music is also about love gained and passion lost. It is about the tender caress of a soft white hand that conducts you into a place of dreams to be enfolded by nocturnal melodies.

"Most of this record was created in the shadow of COVID and deep in the maw of Melbourne’s 2020 long winter lockdown. It is a meditation on the nature of connection.

Restricted to a 5km zone, one of the only people I saw outside my family during this time was my old friend and teacher, Ania Walwicz. We met in the overlap between our zones on the waterfront near Docklands to walk and talk on bright, cool winter afternoons. Those conversations became large in my thoughts when Ania suddenly passed away in September. Her voice was in my head as I worked on this music, trawling through threads of ideas, recordings made on my phone, and thoughts jotted down in notebooks.

Ania’s practice as a writer relied on ‘automatic’ processes. Her work was informed by everything she had read (a lot) but it was created in the manner of dreams. In a state where the subconscious might bubble up and the words arrange themselves into meaning bearing forms that resonate more than represent. I thought a lot about that as I made this music. I recorded everyday using the trumpet, my old Revox reel-to-reel, a couple of synths, a harmonium I lent from a friend, and whatever else was around. I worked mostly on just diving a little deeper each time I sat down to it.

Through the simple process of exhalation, I explored my relationship with the trumpet, which has been through so many twists and turns. I let the tones produced by my breath unfurl on long tape loops and degrade beyond recognition through pedal and plugin chains, until the only imprint of the initial gesture remained.

My process also involved long bike rides during which I’d listen to the work of previous days on ear buds, gliding through familiar streets made slightly strange by the absence of people and movement. Often my rides took me along Footscray Rd next to the port, and as I washed down towards Docklands past the old boat moorings I stopped pedalling to coast. The sounds from my darkened studio mingled with the low rush of air past my helmet, the click and whirr of my bike gears, a squalling bird, a whooshing car. And I remembered my last conversation with Ania. Sitting in the late afternoon sun, squinting against the light that raked across the water, she was telling me about all the different words for they have for blue in Polish and Russian, and how words don’t just change our perception of things, but also actually change the thing being perceived.

As I rode home that afternoon, I felt like anything was possible. "

Peter Knight

Jozef Van Wissem- Lute, Electronics, Beats, Electric Guitar, Found Bird Sounds. In 2013 van Wissem won the Cannes Soundtrack Award at the Cannes Film Festival for Jim Jarmusch’s “Only Lovers Left Alive “. In December 2017 Jozef van Wissem was invited to perform the madrigal depicted in Caravaggio’s painting The Lute Player (1596) at the Hermitage museum of Saint Petersburg. In 2022 three of his works were used for in the soundtrack and trailer of Irma Vep (HBO). His completely unique musical world can be easily verified by his collaborations, especially that these relationships are also strengthening his own musical character. He worked together with Zola Jesus, Tilda Swinton, Jarboe as well as with his long-time collaborative partner, also his friend, Jim Jarmusch. “La Cinémathèque Française in Paris commissioned me to write and perform the score at the presentation of the restored version of Nosferatu. I was a bit overwhelmed by its success. It was sold out. I wasn’t going to repeat it. But people kept asking. In the beginning the soundtrack was more improvised and reactive to the images but after a few times the audience kind of showed me the way. To start with a few notes and building the score slowly to a dense slow metal ending. I found an old 7-inch single with recordings of extinct birds on a market, I electronically processed and added them to the score . “ Manipulating the sounds of electric guitar in alternate tuning he manages to create the feeling of fear, equal to the experience of the victims of Count Orlok. “To me Nosferatu personifies this Death Bird of the Plague. The Black Death depicted in the film offers a timeless parallel with contemporary society. The vampire Count Orlok infests the city with rats and people are infected with the plague. They must quarantaine. This provokes hysteria. Much like nowadays”. With a melodic almost medieval magic and mystery Jozef van Wissem has reignited the light through the filters of dark energy post punk and even black metal into a wondrous new melodramatic cinematic space…- John Robb (Louder Than War) Beginning with a solo played on the lute, his performance will incorporate electric guitar and distorted recordings of extinct birds, graduating from subtlety to gothic horror. – New York Times Delightfully macabre, intense and electrifying – MXDWN

Wellington, New Zealand four-piece Hans Pucket writes nervy but effortlessly danceable rock songs about feeling bad. Their second full-length album, No Drama, which is out November 4th via Carpark Records, gleefully captures the all-too-common twenty-something anxieties of talking too much and then being unable to find the right words to say. When frontman Oliver Devlin sings, “I’m surfing a constant wave of alarm” on the title track, it’s a compass for the other nine tracks. This is inviting and relatable music for people who, despite their best efforts, feel uncomfortable about themselves, the state of the world, and their place in it.

Both lyrically and sonically, No Drama is a departure for Hans Pucket from their 2018 debut Eczema. “I realized I didn’t want to write any more real heartbreak songs,” says Oliver Devlin. “We were and still are a live band. We're still trying to make music that’s catchy and people can dance to, but also really interesting to us: songs about growing up and finding how you exist in the world.” Songs like “My Brain Is a Vacant Space” with its blistering guitars and ebullient hooks hone in on the feeling that you have nothing to offer while “Bankrupt,” a fuzzed-out punk track, boasts lines like “I don’t know if I’ll always feel like / I don’t know what I’m doing wrong.”

Recorded with the band’s good friend and former tour mate Jonathan Pearce of The Beths at his Auckland studio, No Drama is full of big leaps, immaculate arrangements, and a ton of immediate grooves. “We were very ambitious when we first started recording this,” says bassist Callum Devlin. “Intentionally we left heaps of space in the track so we could add strings and horns. Because we were very measured and quite deliberate with the parts we had. It was a really fun process filling in the gaps.”

No Drama came together over several years and during its creation, the band added multi-instrumentalist Callum Passels, who provided all the horn arrangements on the LP. With Pearce producing, his other Beths bandmates like Benjamin Sinclair added string arrangements while singer Elizabeth Stokes provided backing vocals.

Overall it’s a remarkably eclectic record where the smooth pop of a track like “Kiss the Moon” can coexist perfectly with the Abbey Road freakout of “Some Good News.” “We didn’t want to be afraid of our 15-year-old self's influences,” says Oliver Devlin.” We really wanted to make an album that teenage us would just be amazed by.”

The result is Hans Pucket’s most sparkling and confident collection yet. While it’s danceable and fun, it’s also a thoughtful exploration of anxiety, a call for empathy in a turbulent time, and a relatable reminder that it’s hard to figure things out.

Tape

Wellington, New Zealand four-piece Hans Pucket writes nervy but effortlessly danceable rock songs about feeling bad. Their second full-length album, No Drama, which is out November 4th via Carpark Records, gleefully captures the all-too-common twenty-something anxieties of talking too much and then being unable to find the right words to say. When frontman Oliver Devlin sings, “I’m surfing a constant wave of alarm” on the title track, it’s a compass for the other nine tracks. This is inviting and relatable music for people who, despite their best efforts, feel uncomfortable about themselves, the state of the world, and their place in it.

Both lyrically and sonically, No Drama is a departure for Hans Pucket from their 2018 debut Eczema. “I realized I didn’t want to write any more real heartbreak songs,” says Oliver Devlin. “We were and still are a live band. We're still trying to make music that’s catchy and people can dance to, but also really interesting to us: songs about growing up and finding how you exist in the world.” Songs like “My Brain Is a Vacant Space” with its blistering guitars and ebullient hooks hone in on the feeling that you have nothing to offer while “Bankrupt,” a fuzzed-out punk track, boasts lines like “I don’t know if I’ll always feel like / I don’t know what I’m doing wrong.”

Recorded with the band’s good friend and former tour mate Jonathan Pearce of The Beths at his Auckland studio, No Drama is full of big leaps, immaculate arrangements, and a ton of immediate grooves. “We were very ambitious when we first started recording this,” says bassist Callum Devlin. “Intentionally we left heaps of space in the track so we could add strings and horns. Because we were very measured and quite deliberate with the parts we had. It was a really fun process filling in the gaps.”

No Drama came together over several years and during its creation, the band added multi-instrumentalist Callum Passels, who provided all the horn arrangements on the LP. With Pearce producing, his other Beths bandmates like Benjamin Sinclair added string arrangements while singer Elizabeth Stokes provided backing vocals.

Overall it’s a remarkably eclectic record where the smooth pop of a track like “Kiss the Moon” can coexist perfectly with the Abbey Road freakout of “Some Good News.” “We didn’t want to be afraid of our 15-year-old self's influences,” says Oliver Devlin.” We really wanted to make an album that teenage us would just be amazed by.”

The result is Hans Pucket’s most sparkling and confident collection yet. While it’s danceable and fun, it’s also a thoughtful exploration of anxiety, a call for empathy in a turbulent time, and a relatable reminder that it’s hard to figure things out.

Horse Lords return with Comradely Objects, an alloy of erudite influences and approaches given frenetic gravity in pursuit of a united musical and political vision. The band's fifth album doesn't document a new utopia, so much as limn a thrilling portrait of revolution underway. Comradely Objects adheres to the essential instrumental sound documented on the previous four albums and four mixtapes by the quartet of Andrew Bernstein (saxophone, percussion, electronics), Max Eilbacher (bass, electronics), Owen Gardner (guitar, electronics), and Sam Haberman (drums). But the album refocuses that sound, pulling the disparate strands of the band's restless musical purview tightly around propulsive, rhythmic grids. Comradely Objects ripples, drones, chugs, and soars with a new abandon and steely control. This transformation came, in part, due to circumstance. Sidelined from touring their early 2020 album The Common Task in a world turned upside down, Horse Lords promptly returned to their Baltimore practice space and began piecing together the music that became Comradely Objects (Bernstein, Eilbacher, and Gardner have since relocated to Germany). Removed from their tried and true method of refining new music on the road, the quartet invested less energy ensuring live playability and more rehearsing and recording. The deliberate writing and tracking process, a rarity since the band's earliest days, led to a collection of pieces that signal a new peak of creativity and musical heft without devolving into studio sprawl or frippery. Comradely Objects reflects familiar elements of Horse Lords' established palette_the mantra-like repetition of minimalism and global traditional musics, complex counterpoint, the subtleties of microtonality, a breadth of timbres and textures drawn from all across the avant-garde_with some standout stylistic innovations. At different moments, the album veers closer to free jazz than anything else in the band's catalog, channels spectral electroacoustic tones, and throbs with unexpected yet felicitous synth. While these new elements are evidence of additional studio time and care, Comradely Objects retains the dizzying obsessive rhythmic energy that galvanizes the best moments of the band. Music for people who like Mdou Moctar, This Heat!, Battles, Ndagga Rhythm Force, Can, Captain Beefheart, Art Ensemble of Chicago, LaMonte Young.

Horse Lords return with Comradely Objects, an alloy of erudite influences and approaches given frenetic gravity in pursuit of a united musical and political vision. The band's fifth album doesn't document a new utopia, so much as limn a thrilling portrait of revolution underway. Comradely Objects adheres to the essential instrumental sound documented on the previous four albums and four mixtapes by the quartet of Andrew Bernstein (saxophone, percussion, electronics), Max Eilbacher (bass, electronics), Owen Gardner (guitar, electronics), and Sam Haberman (drums). But the album refocuses that sound, pulling the disparate strands of the band's restless musical purview tightly around propulsive, rhythmic grids. Comradely Objects ripples, drones, chugs, and soars with a new abandon and steely control. This transformation came, in part, due to circumstance. Sidelined from touring their early 2020 album The Common Task in a world turned upside down, Horse Lords promptly returned to their Baltimore practice space and began piecing together the music that became Comradely Objects (Bernstein, Eilbacher, and Gardner have since relocated to Germany). Removed from their tried and true method of refining new music on the road, the quartet invested less energy ensuring live playability and more rehearsing and recording. The deliberate writing and tracking process, a rarity since the band's earliest days, led to a collection of pieces that signal a new peak of creativity and musical heft without devolving into studio sprawl or frippery. Comradely Objects reflects familiar elements of Horse Lords' established palette_the mantra-like repetition of minimalism and global traditional musics, complex counterpoint, the subtleties of microtonality, a breadth of timbres and textures drawn from all across the avant-garde_with some standout stylistic innovations. At different moments, the album veers closer to free jazz than anything else in the band's catalog, channels spectral electroacoustic tones, and throbs with unexpected yet felicitous synth. While these new elements are evidence of additional studio time and care, Comradely Objects retains the dizzying obsessive rhythmic energy that galvanizes the best moments of the band. Music for people who like Mdou Moctar, This Heat!, Battles, Ndagga Rhythm Force, Can, Captain Beefheart, Art Ensemble of Chicago, LaMonte Young.

Experimental black metal from Brooklyn featuring the conductor of the Glenn Branca Ensemble. For fans of Krallice, Mizmor, Liturgy. Also featuring member of Pyrrhon, Weeping Sores, Glorious Depravity, and Seputus. There’s a real sense of loss on Brooklyn experimental black metalists Scarcity’s debut album Aveilut, an inescapable presence of the realities of death. Multi-instrumentalist Brendon Randall-Myers (conductor of the Glenn Branca Ensemble since Branca’s passing) wrote Aveilut while processing the sudden deaths of two people close to him, tracked it while caught in Beijing’s first lockdown of 2020, and finished it while surrounded by the overwhelming plague visuals of New York’s early COVID peak. Back in Brooklyn, vocalist Doug Moore (of Pyrrhon, Weeping Sores, Glorious Depravity, and Seputus) soon found himself in the midst of an equally bleak lockdown experience—living next to a funeral home when New York City was America’s COVID epicenter. From conception through development, tangible death surrounded Aveilut. The result of such a profound closeness with death is this grief-stricken release, which takes its name from the Hebrew word for mourning. 72-note octaves, alternate tunings, psychoacoustic phenomena and macro-phrases embody the hugeness of loss, the inexplicable space of death’s void that Randall-Myers faced both on a personal and existential scale. Together with Moore’s gripping vocal delivery and stark lyrics, the album takes the form of a hyperobject, an entity with such vastness and reach that it’s difficult for the human mind to comprehend. Consisting of one 45-minute composition, the music is black metal roughly in the vein of Jute Gyte, Krallice, Mare Cognitum, and Enhare—with hefty doses of post-Branca microtonal guitar abuse, and a cinematic scope that draws on Randall-Myers’ work with orchestras. Aveilut’s mathematical abstraction and lyrical focus on the greatness of the void breed raw emotion, attempting to represent a catastrophe, the vastness and inevitability of things outside one’s control, as well as a direct expression of grief, a kind of requiem. Though born of Randall-Myers and Moore’s intense intimacy with absence, Aveilut is an attempt to present a harrowing universal representation of death’s true form. Tracklist: 1 I 2 II 3 III 4 IV 5 V

The Older I Get, the Funnier I Was, which follows Thomas’ brilliant 2020 HBO special The Golden One and his Can't Believe You're Happy Here EP released earlier this year, surveys a range of emotion and offers a broad sonic palette, moving between pop punk, electro, and the obvious influence of the singer-songwriters he grew up listening to in early childhood. It conjures the ennui of Bright Eyes alongside the barefaced storytelling of John Prine, the overstuffed lists of Fred Thomas with the lackadaisical humor of Colleen Green, among many others.

Thomas attributes the dexterity of the record to Duterte, who recorded and engineered most of it in addition to serving up plenty of encouragement when Thomas got down on the process. “As a comic, I used to test out new songs during sets to see if the funny bits were hitting, but since I wrote this in isolation I ended up writing lyrics and worrying less about making jokes,” Thomas says. That said, the album’s plenty funny. Stand-out and lead single “Rigamarole” opens with a Thomas-voiced infomercial that recalls his oft-cited lookalike Jim Carrey as the Grinch, before launching into a buoyant pop song about being depressed.

Whitmer Thomas will admit that when he traveled home to small town Gulf Shores, Alabama to record his HBO stand-up special, The Golden One, he expected to be greeted as a returning hero, a conquering king, or at minimum, a guy with a moderately successful career as an entertainer in Los Angeles. “I expected a big welcome home, open arms, but when I went back I realized: nobody fucking knows me. Nobody remembers me,” Thomas says. “In the years I’d been performing that show, I’d been romanticizing my childhood in this mythologized place, but the visit made me see that I’m not really from there anymore.”

The sense of alienation compounded when Thomas recognized how few people in town remembered his mom, to whom The Golden One is dedicated and largely about. Thomas grew up watching her perform with her twin sister at the legendary Flora-Bama Lounge, where he set the special, and still counts her as one of his musical influences. His new album, The Older I Get, the Funnier I Was, isn’t overtly about his mom, her presence is deeply felt throughout. While in Gulf Shores, Thomas discovered dozens of her old recordings, all of which had been wrecked by Katrina, but upon returning to LA, Thomas paid “a fancy place in Hollywood” to fix the tapes and hired Melina Duterte (Jay Som, Bachelor, Routine) to mix them. The two struck up a collaborative friendship, and Thomas had the sound of his mom’s voice back. “I was listening to songs she recorded when she was about my age, just these heartfelt, sweet Americana songs,” he says. “I decided then that I wanted to lose the Ian Curtis voice I always sing with; I wanted to do what came naturally, because my mom always sounded like herself, even when she was singing some cheesy reggae song about, like, Jamaica.”

Thus he went into The Older I Get, the Funnier I Was knowing it was time to retire his darkwave persona, and leaning into his natural, chirpier voice, which he says sounds “like a 12-year-old’s.” It makes sense: much of the album chronicles what Thomas calls “being a kid and feeling like you have no control and overcompensating by being annoying.” “So much of the album is about witnessing drug and alcohol addiction as a kid and seeing what it does to people, but also realizing that there's nothing you can do about it,” Thomas says. It’s familiar territory (see: “Partied to Death”) but the methodology is different this time around; true to its title, The Older I Get, the Funnier I Was isn’t always looking for laughs. Thomas might’ve left his hometown behind, but his kid self is still tagging along, a Peter Pan shadow he can’t untether himself from. The first line he sings on The Older I Get, the Funnier I Was is: “There should be a room at every party where you can just sit and watch a movie.” Find a 12-year-old who wouldn’t say the same.