The discography of the phantom Gruppo Sound exceeds over thirty titles published in an undefined time frame between the Eighties and the Nineties. However, there is very little information about this curious pseudonym. it is possible to find a library music album by Gruppo Sound inside the Canopo, Deneb, Flower, Monosound Records and Teams catalogues, all managed by Flipper Music publishing group, but both the creators and the musicians have never been the same. Gruppo Sound is only a collective name, maybe to identify a certain number of 'new' productions characterized by an electronic background And, not by chance, the author of “New York City” is a single artist, the multi-instrumentalist Gabriele Ducros. Son of the prolific composer Remigio Ducros, he first followed his footsteps in the field of music libraries and soundtracks and then become the author of many tracks for television commercials of a certain relevance, winning some international awards.
“Some of these tracks may have been associated with a pornographic film. Others were, however, made as brief comments for a theatrical show, perhaps never made”, remembers Gabriele Ducros. What unites the thirteen pieces is the same musical language, which derives from a widespread funk and jazz matrix. Both genres are thus declined through a different approach and taste, in line with the fusion trends of the time, when the early synthesizers were used by few artists. A handful of electric guitar notes for a 'urban' mood, the acoustic ones from a dreamy morning awakening. Electronic keyboards to arouse a sense of nostalgia in the listener, while flute and saxophone always punctuate different atmospheres. A computer melody, a theme for children and a sophisticated ode to the fusion sound of the Big Apple, perhaps true source of ispiration of the work. “New York City” is not a concept album, but one of the best cross-sections of Gabriele Ducros' great creativity.
Suche:perhaps
That true beauty lies in the essentiality and meticulous combination of a few elements is sometimes not just a cliché. The delicate blend of Roland CR-78, acoustic guitar and dissonant organs that intertwine in Open Windows is a vivid demonstration of this. It is these few elements, now distant and hinted at and now close and deafening, that paint the backdrop of melancholic nostalgia where laconic whispers move the listener within the paintings that bear the sonic signature of Human Figures. To Daniel Lewis’ new project, which has seen its springboard through releases on the label of his friends at Frigio Records, perhaps the adjective “new” is already quite tight. He has built a very recognizable sonic tibre, an influence of producers and listeners at different latitudes of the post-punk and wave scene.
In the 8 canvases of Open Windows the folk tradition is repainted in a more contemporary guise: the sweet and sad litanies are alternated with fast and frenetic stornelli in which the combination of tradition and experimentation constitutes the stylistic signature. The open window through which the listener has the opportunity to look out in this album does not, however, give onto a natural external panorama. It projects into an inner world where introspection and silence are the only chance to grasp its sublime beauty.
Now-Again Records presents catalog-wide reissues of Latin music propellant Joe Bataan’s legendary Ghetto Records. Next up in the series - La Fantastica. This brash, big band Latin orchestra from Brooklyn debuted on Ghetto Records with an underground Salsa album which also contains the beguiling, English-language Psychedelic Soul of "Latin Blues." Ghetto Records was Joe Bataan’s way to get over on “The Man” and out of the ‘hood, a bold move by an artist looking for independence and creative control in an industry that had exploited his talents and treated him like chattel. As Bataan puts it today, “Ghetto Records was part of my journey, a stepping stone to everything else that I’ve done. I learned enough that it enabled me to get out of the box with my thinking, it showed me how to deal with adversity.” Like many dreams and schemes born of the street, this one was audacious, perhaps even reckless to a fault. Hatched from desperation yet full of hope Ghetto Records came crashing down shortly after its inception. The seven albums in its discography languished out of print - until now. These are the definitive reissues of these albums, licensed from Joe Bataan, with his oversight and input into a 16 page oversize book by Pablo Yglesias that details Bataan’s larger-than-imagination life and his little Latin label that could.
In spring,
Again.
But it's true this time.
In Spring is the second record by Tara Clerkin Trio, a Bristol-based group who appeared to emerge from below the radar of near-all in early 2020 and in the presence of one of the most captivating records of that year. This latest 23 minute, four song collection, recorded in various stages and locations over the last twelve months, does nothing to detract from those first impressions, refining the woozy and shimmering oddness of their debut into an avant-pop sensibility that is increasingly their own.
If the group did arrive fully formed, what that form was did feel supple and hard to grasp. They were, in a sense, essentially new sounding, or at least ghosts between the established lines, and with this new record have doubled-down on their inherently Delphian instinct. At its heart, In Spring is a record of subtle contrasts, experimental yet familiar in its intimacy, obviously modern though tied to certain lineages, and driven by a pop logic which is also free-form and seemingly improvised. Their approach to sound is perhaps the guiding principle here, less concerned with genre as it is texture and feeling, drawing from jazz, folk, modern composition, trip hop and downtempo electronica, yet evading all of those categorisations. Tara Clerkin Trio are too generous of heart to be ripping up any rulebook, they simply seem oblivious to its need.
Their geography does provide some context. Bristol's progressive sonic heritage inescapably bleeds into these four tracks, the enclave of open-minded artists around Planet Records in the mid 90s perhaps the closest point of comparison. There's that same magpie spirit which is both futuregazing and aware of its past, though is mostly set on finding its own path. This is in essence what defines Tara Clerkin Trio, feeling their way through freedom of instinct and curiosity, forging their own desire lines. Not so much taking the road less trodden, just walked at their own winding pace.
"Done before,
And I'll do it again"
Ringing in my head
While I try
To feel
There was a long time I considered Raymond Richards the ultimate secret weapon. There were sounds he could make that other people just couldn’t. Pure, whole, yet complex sounds. The pedal steel is an extremely niche instrument outside of its Country confines, but its sheer and transcendent depth has never failed to floor me. Raymond’s ear for implementing the steel into literally 'anything' has always been uncanny. After decades of being savvy to his work ethic, multi-faceted studio skills and overall sense of musical honesty, it became a priority for me to channel some of this into narratives through the ESP Institute and get his stories told. Without further recounting the history and trajectory of our musical relationship (see the press release for 2020’s critically-acclaimed album 'The Lost Art Of Wandering'), I can whole-heartedly confirm this sophomore release, 'Sand Paintings', opens an even wider door into Raymond’s visceral, contemplative world. The cast of players has elaborated to include Calexico’s John Convertino on drums and percussion, a bevy of eccentric stringed instruments and even a hint of brass to collectively stratify context for the pedal steel. Through diversifying the timbral palette, we invite an increased soundstage acuity but also reveal untapped wells of emotion for the listener, perhaps even testing cultural literacies. One foot remains in our established ambient realm, while the other steps toward grand cinematic gestures, and despite the dense, insurmountable emotion in these songs, there is a stoic singularity, like a lonesome cowboy pulling up his boot straps to endure another day. 'Badwater Basin' opens with courage, an enormous chord evoking Raymond’s image of “hard dawn”, but in navigating through the dramatic depictions of 'Monument Valley', 'Saguaro' and 'Deer On Hwy 80', we grapple with a cloaked vulnerability—weathered by the elements, beaten down and alone, yet still madly in love with the world. —Lovefingers
In 1967, Disperú commissioned trumpeter Toño Reyes to form a band and record an album with a series of songs that reflected the latest tropical music trends, in his own inimitable style. “Mister Boogaloo” combines the influences received from the likes of Mexican drummer Leo Acosta and the emerging Nuyorican boogaloo scene. First time reissue, including its original striking psychedelic artwork and remastered sound. In the few years that the Disperú record label was operative, it managed to open its doors to emerging artists, who were often ignored by the major labels but would go on to leave their mark on Peruvian popular music. In 1967, Disperú commissioned trumpeter Toño Reyes to form a band he called Toño y sus Sicodélicos. During the recording sessions for this album they performed a series of songs that reflected the latest tropical music trends, in his inimitable style. Instrumentals such as 'Mr. Boogaloo', 'El Guayacol', 'La Anticuchera', 'La Peinadora' and 'La Fiesta es Mañana' are versions that follow the lines traced by the Mexican composer and drummer Leo Acosta. In the early sixties, based in Los Angeles, Acosta played with the orchestras of Harry James, Sammy Davis Jr, Tony Bennett, Herb Alpert, and Dámaso Pérez Prado. Mid-decade, Acosta turned to the novel sounds of boogaloo, which immediately caught the attention of young South Americans. The song 'Borinque Bella' is another cover version, originally recorded by The TNT Band, based in New York. Another noteworthy influence on the album is the blind Venezuelan organist Tulio Enrique León, who performed cumbias and guarachas enhanced by his Hammond organ, as is the case of 'Chin chin'. Songs in vogue at the time complete the album. The best known is perhaps 'Es la Lluvia que cae', popularized in Spanish in 1967 by Los Iracundos. ‘Tequila' and 'No te bote', by The Champs and
Sonora Matancera, respectively, were also classics on Lima's radio stations. 'Las hojas secas', by the Mexicans Los Zignos, was so popular that it was even covered by Peruvian rock groups such as Los Steivos and Los 007. The success reaped by Toño y sus Sicodélicos took them straight to another record company, and the group’s records were also re-released in neighboring countries, always with striking psychedelic cover illustrations. First time reissue!
microCastle’s first offering of 2024 welcomes Adrian Roman back to the label for his second artist showcase. Hailing from Spain, Adrian Roman first rose to prominence in 2021 with a string of superlative releases which redefined his sound, resulting in an aesthetic that was both cutting edge and effortlessly cool. F, nmully formed within the creative confines of his Castello studio, Adrian’s first microCastle project, 2022’s‘ Disturbing the Perception’ succeeded in showcasing his inventive approach to composition, while remaining club-effective, and in turn earning play from Aera, Fideles and Jimi Jules, amongst others. Moving forward the next eighteen months have proved to be impactful for the young Spaniard, recording standout projects for AZZUR and Sum Over Histories, releases which continued to build on his creative acumen, while remaining in the playlists of underground tastemakers Ame and Dixon. With 2024 beginning with Adrian’s latest Sum Over Histories vehicle ‘Oratorical Ability’, the Spaniard now makes a welcome return to microCastle with a six-track showcase entitled ‘This Is What I Was For A Moment’.
From the opening monochromes of ‘Le Sabbat’ Adrian’s craftsmanship reveals itself across this slow-burning piece, one where grating growls, granular flares and panoramic arps ultimately set the pace for the groove-centric ‘Customized Reality’. It’s here where Adrian puts a greater focus on the dancefloor, marrying hopeful vocal phrasing and silky chord stabs for a rejuvenating experience, while a drum-driven drop ultimately charts the course for a finale of deconstructed sonics and post-rave bliss. The haywire electricity of ‘Faces of Belmez’ finds the Spaniard once again flexing his creative muscles, as corrugated bleeps and cataclysmic rhythms provide a vast sense of space, creating the ultimate backdrop for distorted synths to propel choppy rhythms into dark underground passages, and perhaps onto some of the world’s most adventurous dancefloors.
The collection’s midway point is marked by the hypno-architecture of ‘Mind Design’. Trickling reverberations and long sighs of tonal tension wade through its pulsating framework, with frayed effects and thumping rhythms submerged beneath a buzzing panoramic glow. Played by Ame and sitting as one of the project's most enigmatic tracks is ‘TAGDI’ (They Are Gonna Do It). Tinted with contemplative synths and guttural vocals, Adrian’s unique emotionality peaks here, as he crafts a low-slung, slow-building dystopian romance, all while weaving in cerebral manipulations for an unforgettable ride. The mist breaks instantly on the collection’s final piece, as your thrusted into the muscular grooves of ‘Fear Track’. Horrifying vocal stabs strike, leaving the gauzy purple skies of ‘TAGDI’ behind for a more robust romp, one where anabolic bassline, retro-arps and off kilter percussion bring the release to a feverish peak. A fitting conclusion to a diverse collection of music, one where Adrian creates a journey that speaks to the complexities of life against an immersive and challenging backdrop.
Artwork: Maurcio Seidel
Coral Morphologic and Nick León’s Projections of a Coral City marks a series of collisions between distant
worlds: the organic and the artificial, the Eocene and the Anthropocene, sea and cement—and even, perhaps, ambient music and activism.
Coral Morphologic are the Miami duo of marine biologist Colin Foord and musician J.D. McKay; since 2007, they have used a variety of multimedia projects to generate environmental awareness of marine biodiversity—most notably Coral City Camera, an underwater webcam streaming live from an urban reef ecosystem in PortMiami.
Their citymate Nick León is a linchpin of South Florida’s contemporary leftfield electronic scene, with releases for Tra Tra Trax, Future Times, and NAAFI, and credits on records by Rosalía, GAIKA, and Iceboy Violet, among others.
This collaborative project dates back to 2022, when Coral Morphologic mounted a monumental projection-
mapping installation on Biscayne Boulevard. For five nights in late November and early December, macroscopic films of corals played out across the exterior of Knight Concert Hall. The installation was, on the one hand, a glimpse into a possible future, imagining how the city’s skyline might appear if unchecked global warming and rising seas led coral reefs to colonize the built environment. But it also represented a look back into the deep past, a reminder that Miami is literally built from marine limestone mined from the Everglades. Its concrete foundations began life, eons ago, as a marine ecosystem—the same ecosystem that may one day reclaim them. As above, so below.
As an album, Projections of a Coral City is a suite of interconnected movements spread across two sides of vinyl. The tones are watery, the mood elegiac, the colors a washed-out pastel. Forms that appear static on the surface gradually open up to reveal hidden depths teeming with microscopic movement. You might detect resonances with other aquatically minded works—Jürgen Müller’s Science of the Sea, Harold Budd’s liquid piano compositions, even the slow-moving melancholy of Dr. Roger Payne’s Songs of the Humpback Whale. But ultimately Projections of a Coral City creates the impression of a world unto itself—a hauntingly beautiful space at the meeting point between sorrow and hope.
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Balmat is a label with a cloudy outline. Jointly shepherded by Albert Salinas and Philip Sherburne, two friends living in Cardedeu, Catalonia, and on the Balearic island of Menorca, Balmat grew out of Lapsus Radio, a weekly show born almost ten years ago. Balmat’s mission is simple: to foster new ideas, expand upon personal obsessions, and put enveloping sounds out into the world.
“Balmat” means “empty” or “void” in Catalan. But quite apart from any negative connotations, we prefer to think of it in terms of possibility: a space waiting to be filled.
Diogo Silva, Nuno Fulgêncio and Rui Martins collectively go by the name Bardino. With their sound consisting of an inventive mix of
electronica, rock, jazz, the Porto-based trio are pushing their sound into unchartered waters. A feeling that will be reinforced after
experiencing their new album, ‘Memória da Pedra Mãe’.
Their enthralling music draws upon the imagery of the beautiful and rugged scenery of their home country. ‘Centelha’ , their previous
album (released by Saliva Diva in 2020) was recorded in Chaves,
in the very remote region of Trás-os-Montes. Their 207 EP of the same name was created in the rustic heart of Serra das Meadas. In this
latest offering, the mention of "Pedra Mãe" (Mother Stone), refers to a rare geological phenomenon popularly known as "breeder stones"
found in isolated, deserted, and inhospitable places. On the inspiration of the new album, they explain that they want to refer to "the
importance of collective memory in the cohesion and identity of communities and the process of creating new memories, a process that
is both natural and conflicting, since it mirrors a tension between past, present and future".
The album was recorded in the summer of 2023 at Arda Recorders in Porto and produced by João Brandão and Rui Martins. In this
new material, Bardino's resources expand: Nuno Fulgêncio's drums, Diogo Silva's bass and Rui Martins' veritable arsenal of keyboards
(acoustic and electric piano, various synthesisers) are augmented by the alto and tenor saxophones of Brian Blaker (who stands out in
"Memória" and "Black Mica"), the guitar of Leonardo Outeiro (who features on "Punctum No 2") and, already indicating their affiliation
with the Porto label Jazzego, Hugo Oliveira, who records as Minus & MRDolly (and is a guest on "Pedra Mãe") and Sérgio Alves, aka
AZAR AZAR (who plays piano and Moog on "Tília"). Bardino's entry into the increasingly unavoidable Jazzego catalogue also reinforces
their obvious links to a new wave of projects that have been experimenting with different tangents to the notion of "jazz", taking this
music as part of a wider set of coordinates.
Over the course of eight tracks, and clearly benefiting from the distinct imprint of the recognised quality work of João Brandão, one of
Portugal's current best producers, Bardino presents dense, deeply cinematic music of the highest definition, in which the different
instruments translate a broad emotional and visual landscape, with solos of enormous elegance arranged over grooves that induce the
idea of movement. All the musical coordinates mentioned earlier are present, but perhaps in this new material you can feel a greater
fluidity, certainly the result of honing the vision of the central trio through a vast experience collected on stages all over the country. And
there are even echoes of a decidedly Portuguese songbook, as is so clearly felt in "O Semeador", something new in the range of aesthetic
references embraced by Bardino. This is, in fact, music that thrives on a benign tension between past, present and future, in the sense
that it embraces traditions and history, seeks a new framework in this diverse now and dares to project itself forward. Because the future
is the best of all locations.
Perhaps a drum is a space wrapped in material.
With some excitement the space and the material interact to produce vibrations, which we hear. Separately, yPLO prepared some sounds in advance of a performance based on the components of a speculative drum kit
ob TRU was performed and recorded live on 6/8/18 at Cafe OTO. During this live performance yPLO used amplified mylar, floor tom bass drum, mixers, audio recordings and microphones.
The recordings were mixed and edited into 8 discrete tracks.
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yPLO (Paul Abbott & Michael Speers) is a project about imaginary drums and rhythms, using acoustic percussion and synthetic sounds.
Michael Speers is a musician from Northern Ireland who works with various sound materials — using drums, computer, microphones, feedback — in performance, installation and composition. Other collaborators include John Wall, Louise Le Du, Olan Monk, Niklas Adam, Lee Fraser and Seijiro Murayama.
Paul Abbott is a writer, sound and performance artist. He has played at venues and festivals internationally and was a resident at Cafe OTO. He completed a PhD at the University of Edinburgh under the supervision of Florian Hecker and Nikki Moran, and is currently undertaking research at Royal Conservatoire in Antwerp. He is also the co-founder and editor of Cesura//Acceso, a journal for music, politics and poetics.
2024 Repress
"I've never met Rod Modell (Deepchord) in person, but we have met through music. He found an obscure cassette of Chi music (from '86), sent it to Astral Industries and paved the way for the release (30 years later) of 'The Original Recordings' in 2016. Since then, we've exchanged ideas and good music. I sent Rod a preview of 'The Kallikatsou Recordings' - he really liked it - and here came the idea for a remix of 'Lanterns'. I started working on some random, lo-fi samples from Youtube, using Audacity, perhaps the simplest way of producing loops and samples. It's the only computer based system that feels like the tape recorders I used to work with. I sent the first sketches to Rod on Facebook, but they ended up in the wrong inbox. I forgot about them, but months later he came back saying he loved them. I decided to go back to working on them, maintaining the lo-fi approach. I began manipulating the samples: time-stretching, tempo and pitch-shifting, mixing different layers and adding old-school monophonic old speaker' effects, delays and loops. I used a few field recordings, voices and samples from my early ambient cassettes, and they matched. Ario from Astral Industries got involved and the experiment turned into a plan - a vinyl release - 'Red Lantern at the Kallkatsou''.
One-off electronic disco project of 1984 for the unmistakable sounds of the Yamaha DX7 - especially the notorious "tubular bells" during the verses - introduced at the end of '83, but which didn't catch on in Italo-Disco until the following year. "Dancing Dode" has the strangest spelling ever. Whoever created this truly amazing super theme barely knew English as the word "dode" does not exist in English. This explains why some Italo-Disco songs have obvious grammatical errors even on the original records. The artist or the authors thought that du:d would be written "dode" in English, but in reality it's "dude"... which means a meticulous and elegant man, potentially homosexual, in short a gay type, "King /Queen" of disco dancing like in that film with J.T.. The role of disco in the 80s was a ground for negotiating rights throughout history, so most people didn't care too much about choosing and hating someone's sexual orientation, but dancing, listening to music and this song with a beautiful melody is perhaps the rarest Italo-Disco song ever made.
- A1: My Funny Valentine
- A2: On Green Dolphin Street
- A3: Someday My Prince Will Come
- A4: Harvest Time (Alternate Take)
- A5: Someday My Prince Will Come (Alternate Take)
- B1: Harvest Time
- B2: Sonrisak
- B3: Manhattan Island
- B4: Blue Otani
- B5: On Green Dolphin Street (Alternate Take)
- B6: My Funny Valentine (Alternate Take)
As with Directstep (recorded one week previously), this album was recorded, and originally only released, in Japan. It was one of Hancock's most successful albums in Japan, perhaps because it was entirely solo piano.
Hancock tackles jazz standards such as "My Funny Valentine", "On Green Dolphin Street" and "Some Day My Prince Will Come" while also performing four original compositions.
Following on La Bella Di Notte is a repress we are very proud of. Zero Origin, one of Nathanael Heres' monikers, techno music geek, and producer plus headliners behind Urban Sound Of Amsterdam, as well as the owner himself of Upcult Records, a tight but super sharp label from the mid-nineties, born in the backstreets of the Dutch capital. The original record here is "New Life".
Last on the market as Zero Origin, but perhaps the finest on his chest. Three exciting tracks chase each other in a rhythmic crescendo and increasingly hypnotic decorations are ready to set on fire both the main room of bigger clubs and intimate dance floors of a smoky underground party.
Forbidden to sleep.
Following up his anthemic late-summer burner, Hope, Credit 00 returns to Pinkman to deliver the album Midnightlife Crisis. Hopping between genres whilst remaining resolutely coherent, the twelve-track double LP is a showcase of the Rat Life boss' many influences. From the driving, mesmeric techno of Music Is A Spiritual Thing to the sci-fi electro on Bouncing Bell and Love Warrior's downtempo, half-time shuffle, the collection of tracks is broad and varied yet simultaneously unified by belonging to the club. Whether it's warm-up material, peaktime rollers or afterhours sludge for tired legs and scrambled heads, there's something for every scenario on Midnightlife Crisis. And with recurring themes of melancholy and anxiety throughout, the album perhaps reflects that all too familiar period for every club enthusiast when the years are ticking by and the lights are coming on. "I just hope there's hope", sings the voice on the album's lead single, before reminding us that the dancefloor's sweet release is often the best remedy to these negative thoughts - "I see you shaking on the floor, that gives me hope, gives me hope."
This pairing was slated to be Event 218 in late 1974, but as no copies have emerged, it can be assumed that the single was pulled. It is hard to know why, but judging by its rarity the Anderson Brothers GSF release of ‘I Can See Him Loving You’ was a commercial failure - perhaps Event didn’t want to suffer a similar fate.
This reading of producer Ray Dahrouge’s song is more soulful and vital than the Anderson Brothers which was huge on the Northern Soul scene, but without this take for competition at the time.
Maybe the steamy finale to the Mayberry’s version was a bit too much for radio play, but surely the brilliance of the ballad A side would have compensated for that. Their loss; our gain.
A command across genres has distinguished Yasushi Ide’s work as a DJ and producer since emerging from the multiscene spawning big bang that was Tokyo’s highly influential club milieu of the 1980s. His productions draw variously from hip-hop, dub, house, punk, jazz dance, exotica and electronic music - and at their most expressive, synthesize sensibilities within a single track. The respect Ide’s earned is well evident in the impressive roll call of collaborators he’s accrued over the years - Masters At Work, Tom Verlaine, Don Letts, James Chance, DJ Krush, Pharaoh Sanders, U-ROY, and Bongo Herman, just to name a legendary few.
Now available for worldwide distribution from Love Injection Records in both digital and 7-inch 45 vinyl formats, the Yasushi Ide “A Place In the Sun (Kaoru Inoue Remix)” is paired with the equally gorgeous “A Place In the Sun (Dub).” On the former, Inoue’s treatment largely strips away the track’s beats, anchoring it to a subtle percussion pulse that emphasizes the composition’s irresistible melodic qualities. The latter finds Yoko Ota at the controls restoring and pushing reverb-soaked drums to the forefront of the mix, accentuating Ide’s affection for the sound system aesthetic while exercising just the right amount of spacial arrangement flourishes to inject some brawn amidst the beauty.
These serendipitously rediscovered renditions of a back catalog deep cut are just the latest examples of Yasushi Ide’s artistic reach. In addition to recording such acclaimed albums as 2020’s Cosmic Suite and its 2022 sequel (for which Love Injection has remixed a track), his work has spanned music supervision of some 200+ compilations for major labels, artist management, his Grand Gallery shop/gallery proprietorship, and books showcasing the depth of his archival sensibilities, including vintage t-shirt and ephemera curation. Perhaps most inspiring, however, is that Ide is still winning new appreciators and collaborators in unexpected ways four decades into a revered career that continues to evolve and expand.
The 1973 album “El Violento” was the fifth full-length salsa LP led by Julio Ernesto Estrada Rincón, aka Fruko, and the second credited to Fruko Y Sus Tesos. Though it did not contain hits like ‘A la memoria del muerto’ or ‘El Preso’, it’s a collector’s item today in places like the US, Europe and Japan, perhaps precisely because it is obscure yet full to the brim with unrelentingly hard and heavy salsa bangers that never let up from start to finish (hence the title, which translates as “The Violent One”). A mix of originals and interesting covers, the LP is “all killer and no filler”, purposely designed to set the dance floor ablaze. It features Fruko’s two main vocalists that took over from the first pair of Humberto “Huango” Muriel and “Píper Pimienta” Díaz, namely the beloved duo of Álvaro “Joe” Arroyo and Wilson “Saoko” Manyoma. Los Tesos were a talented “wild bunch” who listened to their fearless leader, with Fruko holding down the bottom end on electric bass, Hernán Gutiérrez in the piano chair, the Villegas brothers on hand percussion (Jesús tickling the bongos and Fernando slapping the congas), augmented by Rafael Benítez on timbales and an ace horn section of Freddy Ferrer and Gonzálo Gómez (trombones) and Jorge Gaviria and Salvador Pasos (trumpets). The super aggressive sound comes directly from the South Bronx playbook of Willie Colón. The snarling trombones and soaring trumpet are somewhat sweetened by a nice little Puerto Rican cuatro guitar solo. Sonically lightening the mood somewhat, ‘Nadando’ (‘Swimming’) is a bouncy tune in the ‘Mercy’ genre (basically a hybrid of pop, funky soul, cumbia and salsa, in the style of Nelson y Sus Estrellas), gleefully sung by Joe Arroyo. The beats are complex and ever changing, with a little bit of mozambique, conga, bomba, jala jala and of course salsa thrown in for good measure. The side closes out with a brilliant, uptempo salsa reworking of the venerable ranchera chestnut, ‘Tú, sólo tú’. Side two explodes with the frenetic descarga jam session ‘Salsa na’ ma’—which is exactly that: nothing more than the hottest “sauce” to make the dancers go crazy. Fruko’s tune is dedicated to the Latin community in New York that listens to salsa from everywhere and dances to it so fervently on the weekend. The relentless percussion propels the listener along at breakneck speed as if hurtling down the Bronx Expressway, demonstrating that Fruko y Sus Tesos have mastered the ‘violent’ form of urban salsa that was having its transnational moment in the early 1970s. While “El Violento” may not be as well known as some Fruko records, it certainly deserves a new look and should be assessed on its own merits as a very powerful, confident entry in the historical evolution of Colombian salsa dura.Sleeve
Cocoon Recordings' next 12” vinyl comes from a well-known face. No introduction needed as nobody less than Gregor Tresher once again delivers a superb and surprising pair of tracks.
“Black Halo” is down-the-line and perhaps one of the catchiest tracks by Gregor Tresher.
The wobbling driving bassline builds up a rising tension that increases through the vast, detuned, and powerful string parts appearing to extend out to light years, reaching far beyond. Zaps drive the rhythm forward while rushing cymbals push the groove and weld everything together to absolute unity. For Gregor, techno and club culture have certain transcendental qualities, “Black Halo” is concerned with these sentiments and tells an ambivalent story. The onset of bliss oscillates between melancholy and hope, making it an exuberant roller coaster of emotions. A classic Gregor Tresher track, which perfectly represents Gregor’s signature sound!
“Phantom Dancer” literally pulls you onto the dance floor. Discharging beats, which hit you heavily but pleasant. The atmosphere violently evolves with a twisted noise-like signal sound and gets even more brute through the low-pitched filter vocals. An exceptionally deep techno production by Gregor Tresher, which will definitely come to full fruition in the clubs at peak time.
Repress!
Originally released in 1973, Black Pearl’s overall sound is the epitome of cool, orchestral funk / dramatic styles of the 1970s (e.g. “Next Stop LA”, “Collect”, “Oh! Militia”, “Choctaw”, “Black Pearl”, and “Blue Shadow”). Also featured are several more romantic, laid-back, emotive pieces such as “Miraculous Dream”, “Tryst”, “Sunny Monday”, “Melody and Lace”, “Monochrome”, “No Return”. Not to mention a couple of surprise solo honky-tonk piano jaunts – “The Vamp” and “Night of the Garter”.An eclectic mix that is sure to pique anyone’s interest. The album was produced by Alan Parker and Alan Hawkshaw, who is perhaps best-known for composing “The Champ”, which has been widely sampled and emulated by hip hop artists.“Library records are a collection of little one-minute pieces for soundtracks recorded by session musicians for movies, TV, student films, whatever. I don’t actually know the story behind when, why, or where they were made but…there were a bunch of different labels that made them and still probably do, and I was on the hunt for any recorded between 1969 and 1976. They all have random song titles like “Bouncy Strut” with descriptions like “hard-driving beat with percussion.” So imagine how much funky shit is on them. For me, De Wolfe Music was the best.”– Adam “Ad-Rock” Horovitz of the Beastie Boys
Pauline Hogstrand's music – and Áhkká, in particular – is deeply inspired by both inner and outer influences, by the mystical as well as the rock-solid, by fictitious conversations and the queen mountain of Lappland (Áhkká).
Meaning "the old lady" in Lule Sámi, Áhkká is a barren, wild, exciting, beautiful, and sometimes grumpy mountain regardless of the season. Over the years, the mountain peaks, moss, birch forests, paths, streams, birds and people have shaped the surroundings, and the massif changed them in return - a reflection of a constantly ongoing development and emerging into greatness, surrounding and within. Speaking about why this mountain is so dear to her, the Denmark-based musician shares: "The nature there is harsh and raw and you can easily feel how it's so much bigger than you. Some people might feel overwhelmed or intimidated, but I feel that when acknowledging the greatness and the power nature consists, I can feel one with it. We come from the same source: I am a part of universe, and universe a part of me."
The music appearing on Áhkká (the album) simulates the dualities of ascent and descent, tension and release, inhale and exhale. Through implementing extended structures for analog and digital synthesis and processed acoustic instrumentations – strings, recorder, pipes and field recordings – Hogstrand expertly navigates these dual motions across two side-long pieces.
The opening "Herein" is slow, difficult, at times jagged and unwelcoming; just like climbing up a mountain early in the morning. Hogstrand shares that this piece is "about surrendering and letting go of control", especially during the last 10 minutes of the track which consist almost solely of an insistent and pulsating drone leading you to no man's land. "Magnitude" offers a release, glimpses of beauty, a softer, easier presence; descending, you're able to see beauty where previously you saw obstacles, perhaps the sun is up, breathtaking views in every direction... This piece is "about all that becomes available after letting go. Suddenly sight clears up in front of your eyes," shares the Swedish composer.
The magic ultimately lies in Hogstrand's perception and portrayal of contrasts – she does not view the two as opposites, but as one reality. "One greatness is not compromised by another greatness." In fact, the opposite is true – one without the other loses meaning, depth and context.
Most Excellent Unlimited is happy to announce the next release in its series of collaborations with master DJ and editor "Mr. K". Two exceptional deep classic album gems skillfully cut down to a maximum 7" 45rpm format, Luther’s “Funky Music (Is a Part of Me)” and Zulema’s “Giving Up.”
Long before “Never Too Much” and his other solo hits, Luther Vandross was an in-demand backup singer and vocal arranger, working with luminaries like Carly Simon, Bette Midler, and Donna Summer, along with his stand out performances in Change, Bionic Boogie, & so many more. Perhaps his most significant role, however, was backing David Bowie on the 1975 Young Americans album. It was during these sessions that Bowie heard Luther’s song “Funky Music (Is a Part of Me)” and re-tooled it to become the Bowie/Vandross joint composition “Fascination,” which went on to become a successful Bowie single.
For the latest edition of Most Excellent Unlimited’s series of edits, Mr. K has gone back to the original source, credited to the group (not the solo artist) Luther (which also features Christine Wiltshire). Mr. K's technique on this edit is cleverly subtle, in the process giving us the first opportunity to get almost the entire full-length song on compact 7-inch wax, keeping that irresistible building energy that places the track firmly on dancefloor-friendly territory.
“Giving Up” was the opening track on Zulema’s second LP, and given the drama of the intro, with its rolling piano, string ensemble, and piercing guitar, it’s not hard to hear why it was effective in that role. Mr. K’s edit benefits from a crystal clear remastering in which each element of the band is distinct in the soundfield, led by Zulema’s gutsy vocals upfront. Originally a 1964 Gladys Knight tearjerker that crept along at a tango’s pace, Zulema’s 1973 cover gives the song a new, powerfully soulful arrangement, championed by such disparate eras and tastemakers as Nicky Siano at the Gallery in the ’70s and breakbeat hunters the Beatnuts in the ’90s that has easily found favor with a wide variety of listeners and DJs, and this new issue should solidify that position. Never before available on 7-inch, “Giving Up” is a bonafide funk and proto-disco classic —
The Belgian vibraphonist Guy Cabay has played with Toots Thielemans, Philip Caherine or Raoul Faisant. Composer, arranger, musicologist and singer, he also wrote and recorded two extraordinary albums in Liege Walloon. Tricatel is happy to make them available at last, 46 years after their publication.
"Gravity kills us. Perhaps that is the meaning of Adam's Fall. We are condemned to be Newton's apple, not the balloon carried away by the wind. But it happens nevertheless that, by the grace of music in particular, we escape gravity, that time escapes time, that another breath inflates our lungs, so much lighter than the one that usually suffocates us.
We don't take light music seriously, and that's good. Only serious music deserves to be treated so badly. Guy Cabay's music flows from a purer source and speaks to us in a more tender voice. One can obviously describe it as one labels export product. Origin: Belgium. Ingredients: jazz, bossa nova, tropicalism, song - proportions may vary. Calorific value: none.
Non-perishable product. But this would say as much about what this music really is as if, in. order to evoke what the foggy blue of a Norman sky inspires, one were to take note of the variations in the percentage of humidity in the atmosphere at Etretat and make a learned presentation on the laws of refraction.
Guy Cabay did pass through Brazil and still lives there a little, a Brazil that is not the one ofcartographers or travel agencies, a Brazil that is as real as the Far West in which Fenimore Cooper's child readers lived, as blurred and limpid as a dream. It is not the Amazon thatflows through this Brazil, but the Ourthe, a tributary of the Meuse, which makes it morefamiliar, stranger and even more poetic.
To let oneself be bathed in this melancholichappiness, to let oneself be carried by this river is sweet, as sweet as the fluid consonants of the Walloon language, this 'd' which becomes 'dj' in his mouth, as in Portuguese, by the way. To know how to create melodies that hold on a note like Jobim's samba, like a fildeferist above a waterfall of chords, is not given to everyone. It is a gift. Knowing how to lace others on dozens of points, as on Tot a-fet rote cou d'zeur cou d'zos, a poignant encounter between Randy Newman and Robert Wyatt, is another. These are not the only ones that the fairies offered to Guy Cabay and that, by an almost miracle, he offers us again today. Hearts up."
Bertrand Burgalat
TAKAHIRO MUKAI is a Japanese electronic music composer who has about 60 official releases to his name. This is 8 pieces of brooding, modular electronic, rhythmic hypnosis from a contemporary maestro of the experimental electronics tape circuit underground.
We’re honored to publish another chapter of his ever-evolving communique with machines. Early DJ support by DJ Voices. Inorganically mesmerizing, full of shadows, plumbing the depths of modular telekinesis…perhaps “Out Of Place” for some, right in time for the deep listeners….
Limited edition of 100 professionally dubbed and manufactured C50 cassettes.
Mastered by Dietrich Schoenemann.
Design by Nick Owen.
Distributed by One Eye Witness.
Spanning a decade of sophisticated funk from the Motor City, two midtempo picks from the crates of Mr. K get his trademark classy edit treatment on this Detroit-themed 7-inch.
G.C. Cameron was a solid singer in the Motown stable, a vocal chameleon whose range extended from clear tenor to soaring falsetto. Though this agility is most easily heard via his lead vocal on the Spinners’ “It’s A Shame,” he shows off the same versatility in the rare groove classic “No Matter Where,” a 1973 Curtis Mayfield-esque burner that’s the subject of Mr. K’s latest release on Most Excellent. For Krivit this has been a lesser known & hard to find floor filler for years. Intro cleanly extended, now ready for the big stage and modern club play.
Our flip side stays in midtempo, rare groove Detroit territory but jumps ahead a decade to the early ’80s with Candye’s “Time Is What You Need.” Candyce Edwards got her start in the Detroit funk powerhouse One Way (her predecessor was Alicia Myers) and soon became connected with the group’s wunderkind songwriter/multi-instrumentalist Kevin McCord. McCord had already taken Myers to the top with “I Want To Thank You,” and seeing if lightning could strike twice with Edwards. Although only resulting in this solo debut, time and the untiring excavations of latter-era vinyl junkies have subsequently made her collaboration with McCord (a union that briefly included marriage) a sought-after boogie gem in the rough. Mr. K plucks perhaps the most winsome LP-only cut and subtly extends intro and outro to provide a useful 7-inch version that should get plenty of warm weather play.
Both tracks have been carefully remastered for this release & have never sounded better.
Bristol’s Remotif makes his highly-awaited debut on space•lab with his wormhole of a new EP, ‘Substation Fever’. Kicking things off on the A side, the title track enters the scene with spacious, organic drums, building in energy as we tunnel through its course; travelling from the cool, oxygenated air of a forest-scape into dazzling, far-reaching intergalactic realms.
Next up, ‘Substation Fever’ gets a dreamy reimagining courtesy of Leeds legend and space•lab regular, Adam Pits. Channelling the energy of Remotif’s original into a hazy, blissed-out cloudscape, this track was made for accompanying early morning sunrises where orange-hued dashes of light reflect off the surface of gently rippling water.
On the flip side, ‘Hi Tek Lo Life’, crackles with the fluctuating electrical impulses of a TV without signal or a radio between channels. Flecked with corroded vocal samples and billowing synthlines, this is a track that explores the inbetween - the moment when connection is almost lost, but not quite. There is a beauty in the roughened-edges of these partially obscured details.
The final track of the EP, ‘The Signal Prevails’ is perhaps an answer to its precursor. Opening out onto trip-hop-esque terrain, this track follows the path set out by a blurred-out, echoing vocal as it deftly works its way through narrow, winding pathways of powerful 90s-style breaks.
A much-loved DJ regularly making an appearance on space•lab’s lineups, we are delighted to now showcase Remotif’s skill in the studio with this mind-opening new EP.
Mouche (real name Tim Karmouche) returns to Australian label Research Records with another full-length of imaginary soundtracks, instrumentals and sun-kissed digital jazz. Active on the Melbourne scene in projects such as Crepes/The Murlocs/Swazi Gold/Dreamin' Wild, Tim's first album Live From The Bubble arrived back in 2020 as an ode to his aptly named studio space - The Bubble.
Lake Songs builds on those same atmospheres, showcasing the inward-looking craft of his one-man band. Cicada field recordings and light keys open proceedings, reflecting the warmer side of 80s new age, though before long we're introduced to a variety of stylistic shifts incorporating elements of cosmic funk, lounge and library-style compositions. There are traces of Steve Hiett, Max Groove or even the recently re-discovered Ronald Langestraat, though the strength of Mouche's talent for harmony shines through on its own level.
Shifting between moods yet reflecting an overarching sense of positivity, listening through the ten tracks gives off a real sense of place, though time is somewhat irrelevant. The warm climate and sandy beaches of Australia seem eternally embodied in 'Juice' or 'Crystal Water'. Perhaps where Live From The Bubble was dedicated to the very studio that birthed it, Lake Songs is dedicated to the vast land that surrounds it.
Symphony Orchestra is a new group from Maximilian Turnbull and Michael Rault. Both Rault and Turnbull are accomplished songwriters, performers and producers in their own right, with Turnbull leading The Badge Epoque Ensemble, playing with the group Darlene Shrugg, and once releasing records under the name Slim Twig and Rault having released several psychedelic rock & roll classics under his own name in the past decade. The pair have worked together in various capacities for many years, writing and recording together on U.S. Girls' In A Poem Unlimited, and contributing to each other's releases, but the debut LP from Symphony Orchestra (due out May 12th on Telephone Explosion) marks their first release as an official entity.
Needless to say, there is a potent creative chemistry between Rault and Turnbull and Radiant Music showcases the alchemy between their distinct skill sets. The album is an exercise in pure collaboration. After years spent focusing on solo projects and working as hired guns on other projects, the duo came together with no specific intentions other than to work free of boundaries and direction. Freeing themselves from the familiar pressures of deadlines and expectations, they found a sense of discovery through togetherness. Duties on this project were split between Rault acting primarily as a one-man rhythm section and lead vocalist with Turnbull bringing chord sketches and his trademark aphoristic lyrical musings to the table. Trading off roles on guitar and keys from song to song, the duo's deft approach to melody bleeds through their instrumental parts as much as it does through Rault's vocal melodies. The majority of this album was self-engineered over the course of three sessions in 2018, at Michael's Montreal studio. Dormant during the pandemic, Rault's move to Los Angeles and the birth of Turnbull's twin sons, work reignited in 2022. The latterly tracked instrumental 'Concerto' and ballad 'Unthink The Thinkable' provide a dynamic depth to the album perhaps attributable to this tumultuous pause. Mixing came courtesy of Steve Chahley & Tony Price (U.S. Girls, BÉE, Jane Inc, etc).
In all of their work, Rault and Turnbull have made a hallmark of elaborately precise production and arrangement, Radiant Music is no different, though its pared-back simplicity provides a streamlined directness. The pairing of Rault's soulful, elastic vocal with Turnbull's evocatively cerebral lyrics provides a thrilling sensation unlike anything else in their respective catalogs. With an explosive, groove-forward approach, kaleidoscopic walls of vocal harmony and technicolor displays of guitar work, these 31 minutes of music will most certainly stimulate the mind of any fan of classic pop rock and funk. The blown-out breakbeats, winsome woven vocal melodies and propulsive wah-wah guitars of the title track evoke memories of an after-school cartoon special that never really existed outside of a lysergic daydream. "Harp In The Wind" is a perfect moment of overcast melancholy complete with ribbons of weeping synthesizers and velcro-fuzz guitar that could rip a clean line through Kevlar. "Know Thyself" and the harmony-rich "Intersection" are standout tracks that find a kinship in Stereolab's space-age effervescence. "Concerto" is a slab of beaming, mischievous funk that nods to Billy Preston's extraterrestrial keyboard explorations.
Radiant Music, like the best pop music, is life-affirming, confectionary, and enticing. Symphony Orchestra have created an album that hits you right where you need it, anchoring heady, adventurous sonic ideas down to a solid foundation of masterful songcraft, virtuosic instrumental performances and undeniable groove. Not a bar, nor beat is wasted.
*MILKY CLEAR VINYL - 300 COPIES ONLY FOR WORLD!!* Technology + Teamwork’s fizzling synths, interweaving textures and punchy rhythms are beguiling on their long-awaited debut album We Used To Be Friends. However, at the heart of it all it’s the connection between the group’s two members, Anthony Silvester and Sarah Jones, the friendship the much-travelled duo have managed to maintain for nearly 15 years and a showcase of the slow-burning construction of the electronic world that they’ve surrounded themselves with. We Used To Be Friends is ultimately the tale of two storied artists in their own right, holding onto each other through personal and career twists and turns, relocations and broader movements through respective phases of their lives. Silvester and Jones first met and then collaborated as part of biting post-punk five-piece XX Teens in 2008, eventually breaking off to forge their own path together even as the latter’s demand as a drummer grew. Performing with everyone from Hot Chip, Harry Styles and Bloc Party among many others, Jones has been a constant percussive presence across the sphere of alternative UK pop music – she’s also found time for her own solo project Pillow Person and played on records by the likes of Puscifer and Kurt Vile. Silvester meanwhile has performed in art galleries across Europe including: Fridericianum in Kassel, Kölnischer Kunstverein in Cologne, and Vleeshal in Middelburg, as well as providing sound design and composing work for several art films. Technology + Teamwork is the constant throughout all of that though. “Technology + Teamwork's name perfectly describes how we work” Silvester explains. “Sometimes the teamwork is between each other and sometimes it’s between us and the technology.” Although going by the name Technology + Teamwork as far back as 2014, two events conspired that pulled the project into focus for the pair of them: firstly, Silvester spent a year constructing a soundproof studio shed on the border of London and Essex where he lives. Secondly, inevitably, the pandemic brought the globe-trotting Jones back home to just seven miles away from her long-time collaborator and friend. “We probably hung out more than we had for a few years” says Silvester. “Also, after all her Pillow Person releases Sarah had gotten really good with recording vocals and knowing what did and didn’t work and had a really good home studio set up. We still worked separately though, exchanging ideas via email and WhatsApp.” As with many artists through 2020 and early 2021, working separately was a new necessity that they were forced to adapt to. However, it became clear that there were creative benefits to it. “It really changed our sound and our sounds became a lot more focused as a result” Jones says. “I wanted to use the same ideas of improvisation that I might use while playing the drums for myself and apply that to melodies and lyrics.” The album bristles with hyperpop modernity. You can hear it in the manipulated vocals most prominently on Big Blue’s disco strut and on Moving Too’s heady mix of pitched up voice and burrowing sub bass. However, the pair also looked to San Francisco and the West Coast synthesis movement of the 60s, Silvester inspired by the likes of Suzanne Ciani and Don Buchla. The plaintive lo-fi and melancholy of Amsterdam incorporates Mutable Instrument’s Marbles by Émilie Gillet which – inspired by Buchla’s own synthesis work – outputs random voltages to give the track an air of unpredictability. It’s something that occurs throughout the album, the duo revelling in the happy accidents that disrupt the flow of their hook-laden pop. “The ‘Buchlian’ ideas of music having randomness and uncertainty, completely freed us up” Silvester explains. “It felt a bit like having more members in the band, machines that didn't do what you expected or intended.” Perhaps more subtly, is the influence of 17th and 18th century Baroque music, with Silvester drawing a line between it and the 90’s R’n’B he and Jones both love – exemplified perhaps best on K+B’s percussive claps and sultry grooves. The portentous juddering synthpop of the title track, meanwhile, alludes specifically to Handel’s Sarabande. It’s typical of an album that only needs a scratch of its seemingly glossy surface to unearth a myriad of contorted touchstones and reference points that’ve fermented beneath it. Thematically there’s an anxious sense to the record, with tracks often balancing above a quiet sense of unerring tension even at their most bombastic. Moving Too is the result of an existential doubt that hit Silvester while out cycling, with the outro refrain "it's not enough to die you also have to be forgotten" a take on something Samuel Beckett once said. These worries are echoed on the album’s closing track What A Year, which borrows a lot of lines from the late drag performer and fashion designer Dorian Corey including the grimly defiant "you're gonna leave your mark somewhere in this world just by getting through it”. Those clouds offer a counter point to We Used To Be Friends, but then isn’t that what great pop albums do? Technology + Teamwork undoubtedly love the craft of the hook and the song, but they always position themselves left of centre, prepared to scuff things up, pull something out of shape or manipulate something to leave it sounding warped. Much like their friendship, nothing here is particularly linear – and it’s all the better for it. Bio: Anthony Silvester & Sarah Jones first collaborated as part of biting post-punk five piece XX Teens in 2008, eventually breaking off to forge their own path together even as the latter's demand as a drummer grew. Performing with everyone from Hot Chip, Bat for Lashes, Harry Styles and Bloc Party (among many others), Jones has been a constant percussive presence across the sphere of alternative UK pop music - she's also found time for her own solo project Pillow Person and played on records by the likes of Puscifer and Kurt Vile. Silvester meanwhile has performed in art galleries across Europe including Fridericianum in Kassel, Kölnischer Kunstverein in Cologne, and Wleeshal in Middelburg, as well as providing sound design and composing work for several art films. Technology & Teamwork is the constant throughout all of that though. "We Used To Be Friends" proves that Technology & Teamwork undoubtedly love the craft of the hook and the song, but they always position themselves left of centre, prepared to scuff things up, pull something out of shape or manipulate something to leave it sounding warped. Much like their friendship, nothing hear is particularly linear - and it's all the better for it.
repressed !
It takes a lot to achieve the status of legendary or era defining in dance music, its sands shift so quickly artists, genres and labels have often come and gone before you realise.
So it's with some pride and deserved justification that Yoshitoshi marks its 20th anniversary with celebratory remix packages of its most iconic tracks.
Already riding high in the Beatport charts with the success of the Uto Karem and Robosonic mixes of Eddie Amadors House Music, the latter of which has spent the past month in the overall top 5, the label now plans a one, two punch with the follow-up: Alcatraz seminal Giv Me Luv.
We thought long and hard about how we scheduled this 20th anniversary project, says label boss Sharam, little point launching big and then following up with a whimper so we deliberately chose Alcatraz for this difficult task.
But the challenge didnt end there; a massive record still deserves a massive remix and I think its safe to say we found the perfect woman for the job...
Step forward undisputed techno titan Nicole Moudaber who leapt at the opportunity to remix the track.
Ive got so many fond memories of Giv Me Luv, it was one of my favourite tunes from my formative clubbing days, recalls Nicole happily, so, when Yoshi mentioned the idea of me remix-ing it I just couldn't say no.
In fact I was so familiar with Alcatraz I was already awash with ideas of what I could, or should, do with it.
As I got into the mix one of those ideas just grew and grew, namely an extended breakdown that constantly builds; layering the memorable vocal to an intense pay-off and (hopeful) moment of real dancefloor drama. Nicoles humble description doesn't quite do the end result justice, which is a modern, masterful take on the classic.
Her iconic techno beats, dark twisted stabs and arrangement of that bassline drive toward the mentioned break, which will undoubtedly rival the fireworks of any impending NYE celebrations. In fact, expect this track to be THE soundtrack to many a dance floor come the all-important hand-over to 2015. And, just in case that weren't enough, Yoshi has also secured the skills of Tent Cantrelle to deliver the perfect deep house foil to Nicoles techno ferocity as Sharam concludes, We wanted a real slice of contemporary funk from the companion mix.
Yoshi is synonymous with exploring the line between deep house and techno, perhaps no more so than during its formative years, so this re-mix completes the package perfectly.
Nico Motte returns to Antinote with his second album ‘The Missing Person’ after his 2015 introductory EP ‘Rheologia’, 2016’s ‘Life Goes On If You Are Lucky’ LP, and 2017’s ‘18 Rays’ EP collaboration with Zaltan and Raphaël Top-Secret. Truly though, Motte never really left, having been the aesthetic eye for each Antinote artwork since day dot. His visual style would prove pivotal to the labels decade long success in the leftfield music underground. But here Motte shows us once again that his skills don’t solely lie in graphic art.
A bandcamp review of Motte’s first LP reads ‘French late seventies synth-laden electronics of avant garde film soundtracks with a touch of early house, minimalism and Balearic…’
‘The Missing Person’ holds true to that balearic core while adding flavours of lollipop dub, sugary synth and Martin Denny-esque Exotica. Synth-Pop from a tropical island. Perhaps The Missing Person here is the album’s protagonist themself, having sailed away from the trivialities of urban life to lay on a white sand beach somewhere warm, drinking fresh coconut water and not giving a shit. A laissez-faire attitude.
Underneath the cool sonic facade of ‘The Missing Person’ Motte effortlessly meanders through pastel sounds drawn from an extensive collection of vintage synthesisers, drum machines and effects units at Synth City. The result: a smooth textured continuous listen of an ear off to somewhere far… island life perhaps? perhaps urban life in need of reprieve.
Angelo is an LP, 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/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.
As the artwork on the EP depicts, "Darkest hour before dawn" is a dusky scenario representing the Dutch environment known as "the polder" in the lower lands. It questions all kinds of actions taken or not taken to protect, restore, conserve, innovate, or modestly leave the landscape to its own more murky outcome. The darkest hour, full of gloom, will be available around the spring equinox?
Portrait of tracks separately:
"Darkest Hour before dawn"
Is this piece supposed to be an ode to the ancient Dutch hardcore movement, that once and probably only then would be experienced to such intensity or is this still maybe just a little near reminder of it? Anyway starts this unlit track slowly and remains that way but maintains a fat-pumping pulse, possibly reminding of a soldier walking a death march. Settling up those launch pads further down the piece, near the bridge for shooting off some drum-fire 909 snares as if it rocketed. Then, suddenly, the extended delay of that snare turns into a psychedelic drone beside, attending to, or paranoidly chasing comrades soul in his journey throughout and above like a trustful partner?
Arp's LFO that is out of sync with the beat and is being outpaced by it seems to slow everything down even more; meantime creating a pulling, buggy-like effect to the due of all this.
The ascending and descending ghost-pad drawing into the grid of the (tone) key, thereafter parking in them for a while and cycling out again, creating a spatial flow of disturbance and anxiety.
Finishes it with a mountain-big reverberation of organized destruction and chaos. What at first sight seems like simply an innocent route appears to actually be a bit more complex one.
"Lovely memories"
The quite monotonous structure of Lovely memories catchy and groovy song is scanning through your brain files; revisiting, memorizing, and purposely lacking these few "dots above the I" that in some cases you'd gladly be feeling like to square fit it in yourself, of course, when necessary. Connecting the puzzling, dazzling flashbacks together to finally wrap up and perpetuate the pictured events for good, leaving traces of melancholy, loveliness, and perhaps even faith to it.
"24 hours"
Dinginess of 24 hours supposes to be felt in the guts.
The beat, steady with that snare on the 4 & 12, might not be one of the greatest inventions. However, the TR-08's drum line here lays a solid and fertile foundation for a reasonable house track.
Slightly detuned synths weave a scarf pattern around your upper body, and the lower layers carry a warm blanket for the underbelly, providing you with that cozy sense of consolation. Acidy pokes wring itself sneaky and penetrable around, slicing through the song's already solid flesh. Therefore, balancing its bitter sweetness throughout with these soft-hard saw-tooth drops of sourness.
"24 hours" conveys a dispatch or intercommunication that there is little time left to take actions/charge to fix and restore. Something big is about to come if it hasn't arrived already...
"At night"
This remarkable story is a bit out of ordinary.
At night appeared in the artist's dream just the night before his sick father was raised from death in the hospital and got just another year to live before actually passing away completely and anyway. ; ))
And thus also dedicated to the man.
The next transmission from planet BRUK comes courtesy of Lårry, an enigmatic artist ploughing an individualist furrow through various fields of electronic expression, one hand tweaking the tiller and the other casually dismissing the rules of rave. You might have caught their sharply-pointed sound on Super Hexagon or Awkwardly Social, or perhaps stumbled across their fabled 2021 live performance from Fitzroy in Berlin, or even unconsciously swayed to something spun in a set any time over the past five years. Lårry's discography is modest but mighty, and How Was That For You builds into that idea with four
precise tools for forward-leaning soundsystem communion. From the fractalised barbs of electronica stepper 'In Water' to patiently dread-eyed wobbler 'Angela's Knife', 'Uniform Uninform's icy incisions to the snaking spiral staircase of 'Yargachin', this is brain fodder first and foremost, with bassweight impact threaded through as an added bonus. Keeping fine company amongst the other oddities inhabiting the Bruk mandate, Lårry continues to keep us on our toes, literally and figuratively.
Nous'klaer audio presents Oceanic's debut album Choral Feeling. A rhythmically diverse electronic album full of sonic explorations and beautiful moments, all bound together by a sense of colour. The album touches on the core of what music can be for: a sense of togetherness, finding meaning in moments, a way to cope with loss and soundtracking dreams about a different future. The music on this album reflects that in the most personal way. Each track consists almost entirely of his friends' voices, recorded and transformed into the sounds you'll hear. No, you can But how Just think of anything How can it just be anything Why does it need to be more Because they're afraid of it. They're not afraid of the words Then what are they afraid of The power behind the words How can words have power If you say something, only you, maybe I can hear it. Perhaps someone sitting over near that tree can hear it too. If we say it together, maybe we can reach past that tree and reach that rock. But if us and a million others say them same thing, all at the same time. Then every tree and every rock everywhere will hear us. Trees and rocks don't have ears. No they don't but they do. Why don't they just cover their ears Because then they need to do that every time we use our voice. And use them we did and use them again we shall. They got tired of covering their ears, so they decided to cover our mouths. Won't they hear us now? We're safe here. For how long will we be safe? For now. Perhaps until later. Just try. Read the words like I've written, but do so like the birds in the trees. You are my sunshine A little louder You are my sunshine, my only sunshine, you make me happy When skies are grey You'll never know dear How much I love you Please don't take my sunshine away Beautiful. Shall we go teach the others When will we have enough to free ourselves We'll always have more than they do. We only need to not forget I'll never forget Sing it again. Artwork by Bob Verhoeven. Text by Gregory Markus.
'Intensely textured, interlocking guitar riffs weave together on New Bright Object, the debut album from Berlin and Edinburgh-based duo I’m Not You.
Working under the name I’m Not You, artist Alex Gibbs (bass & vocals) and sound designer Niall McCallum (guitar & drums) have honed a sound that draws in equal measure from jazz funk of Weather Report and the math rock of Don Caballero. Their debut album, New Bright Object is their most developed statement to date, an intricate, robust and unique collection of songs born from serpentine jam sessions in rural idylls.
The duo make no secret of their admiration for bands like Battles and Tortoise. They reference Jim O’Rourke’s lounge numbers and the droll lyricism of Modern Lovers’ Jonathan Richman. There’s a touch of Vini Reilly in their sparse and serpentine guitar lines. A hint perhaps of Mogwai. All these names place New Bright Object within a constellation of albums made with bigger budgets for wider audiences.
New Bright Object opens In a flash of light, comet-like, with the sound of ‘Mr. Wind- Up Bird’. The threads they weave are full with intent, as moments of density rise like hills from the track’s quieter valleys. It’s easy to imagine the pair looking out over the rolling fields of the garden studio in East Lothian where they recorded the album, as they assiduously try and draw their own landscapes in sound.
Similarly, there is a crispness to ‘A Certain Arrangement Of Atoms’ - every clipped hat, rim-shot snare and tightly wound tom a fine-tipped mark on the score. It is intricate and precise, a result perhaps of Niall’s attention to detail. Then there is the piano, Alex’s grandmother’s, slightly out of tune, which adds a few expressionist strokes to this pointillist composition. The piece loosens, until all we’re left with is the bass.
Although the album orbits around the pendulum sway of ‘The Older I Get’, it is ‘What Cats Think About’ that stands out most. That it does is by design – a nod to the Sun City Girls and albums that like to throw their listeners a curveball every now and then. Pleasantly ramshackle, confusingly domestic, agreeably strange.
All this speaks to the spirit of the album and the creative relationship between two best friends whose differences seem to have been the only things they could agree on.'
Josh Burke is a guitarist/keyboardist/programmer from Chicago, USA, who specialises in a music that could, perhaps, best be described as an amalgamation of drone, kosmische and ambient, all with a distinctly euphoric flavour, as though these sounds were channelled rather than thoroughly composed.
He has over 30 solo releases to his name as well as splits with Jeffrey Astin (of Xiphiidae), Spirals and Body Morph, and also - like most of his peers - operates under several additional aliases - Ocean Diamond, Futuresport, The Masque, Silk Fountain, 56K, Sky Limousine and Nehal Shah - as well as ensemble and collaborative projects including Bermuda Link, Cartoon Drips, White Prism, Practical Applications Of The Chaossphere, Starfox, Camp Crystal Lake and Holographic Communications Of The Third Sky.
Born and raised in the heart of the French Alps, and now residing in Paris, DJ Physical’s sound is one of a harsh romance. Perhaps it was the beauty and serenity of the snow-covered mountain tops and the ferocious nature of French techno moulding together that spawned his ‘Raw Poetry’ aesthetic; an emotive blend of dark and light that feels like it could belong in concert halls and theatres as well as underground clubs. Now the Parisian local serves up five deadly cuts of brooding electro and techno for 1Ø PILLS MATE.
‘Not So Human’ delivers the influence of trance on the contemporary techno soundscape, but doesn’t over-do it. Trance-licked, not dominated, the uncompromising cut of wave-driven techno is the perfect accompaniment for when you want to take things up a notch. ‘Sex Club’ maintains DJ Physicals’ fascination with Raw Poetry - brimming with breaks-driven breakdowns, spine-tingling atmospherics and low-pressure basslines that highlight the variety of influence the emerging producer brings to the table.
Acid synth-lines and lively trance-inspo create an altogether lighter mood as we flip the record on ‘Mortal Dance’, before ‘Easy Dancer’ changes its tune altogether with a pounding cut of progressive, freaky electronica.
Closing the release is ‘Go Further’ - misty electro, Southern-trap samples and those distinctive, high-culture ambient interludes creating a sense of emotive mystery. A well-rounded release with plenty of left-turns, this is DJ Physical’s ‘Raw Poetry’ at its finest.
There was a time when a person would pick up an instrument to compose yet another song for a loved one. A sad figure humming into a microphone, pronouncing the most basic words and forms to convey quantity, quality, fact, statistics and similar sounds describing pain, loss and sorrow. The human brain would perceive the melody sad and perhaps within herself feel a sense of melancholia.
In another parallel world a new composition would then appear. But not one composed on a wooden built instrument, no, sounds made into structures and tables that would assists the listener into providing an additional context and meaning through digital synthesis and quantised harmonies. But who could really tell if these sounds were real? Or where they just sounds impersonating an idea of something?
Rhyme nor reason is as abstract in its shapes and ideas as it is concrete and elegant in its narratives. A carefully crafted wooden cabinet with an over-whelming amount of different drawers and hidden compartments. Each box storing blissful arrangement; a fluorescent stone, a paper note saying something about lunch, some collectible objects, a forgotten token or perhaps an autograph, all so very vibrant and joyful for its possessor.
Deleted files stored on rapidly rotating platters coated with magnetic material. Small, easy to loose SSD memory cards of recorded corrupt files and digital artefacts. Software engineered compositions trying to grasp the shared belief of an upcoming future, vivid and uncertain; birds, waters and long lost recollections. A release unconcerned with the literal depiction of things from the visible world. At least not for now.
One of those tracks you simply can't forget - perhaps because it's a hard one to put in any specific genre category - laying somewhere in between the realms of synth pop and italo disco with hints of even new beat, this Austrian diggers delight has been haunting Discogs want-lists for years. Aesthetically smooth and sexy (as it shares chord changes with non other than “Careless Whisper”) but with accents of less orthodox production techniques in the “Wunderbar” mix emphasize a uniquely charming playfulness. Originally released as a 7” single, THANKYOU brings it back to your record collections now in a 12” format with an additional extended cut by Castro for those of you who might have thought the original was just a little too short. Remastered by Man Made Mastering.








































