quête:persona

The Microphones, Bon Iver, Lomelda, Vegyn, Hovvdy, Dijon. “Lemon Cream” vinyl is for Indies Only. Follow up to 2019’s critically acclaimed ‘bunny’. Sam Hall’s new album as ghost orchard, ‘rainbow music’, is a collage of patience and meditation. It’s filled with nuances as quietly imperceptible as the seasons, or the profound movement of time, where one day looking back you realize your whole spirit has shifted. Where 2019’s critically revered ‘bunny’ was a love letter to a romantic relationship, ‘rainbow music’ documents the culmination of Hall’s first personal experience with loss in several forms. At the end of 2020, his longterm childhood pet passed away, and with it the last continuing threads of familiarity between being a kid and adulthood. Still based in the Grand Rapids, Michigan town he’d grown up in, the static ease of familiar living seemed to be coming apart at the seams, as friends moved on to bigger cities, relationships shapeshifted and in a short period of time, another kitten he’d adopted passed away prematurely, leaving Hall to question the trajectory in which he himself was headed. Like “songs in the key of life,” the title ‘rainbow music’ refers to the myriad of colors and qualities within Hall that are refracted throughout. It’s a symbolization of hope and the aftermath, the flickering light at the end of the tunnel (or “when a rainbow shows up after a big storm”). “Wish I could have fun anymore,” Hall ruminates on “dancing”, as well as confessing he “wish he made more upbeat bangers.” But reality packs more of a punch, and this collection of songs sees him finally be at peace with the current state of affairs. Relatable to anyone who has contemplated what it means to settle down, or even just catch your breath in an era where anguish is commonplace, the release of ‘rainbow music’ is a happy ending in its own right, a marker of survival that remains close to the bone. // Ghost Orchard’s “bunny” is a blushing, beatific beat. - The FADER // Fluttering and transportive, a swirl of beats and plucky guitar and strings that feels like a cocoon. - Stereogum // Hip-hop inflected, stream-of-consciousness confessionals that’ll have you swooning in the lazy summer sunlight. – Paste // Track listing: 01. Rest 02. Jessamine 03. Cursive 04. Maisy 05. Cut 06. soot 07. memory storage 08. Dancing 09. bruise 10. sweet song 11. comfort (rainbow)

The Microphones, Bon Iver, Lomelda, Vegyn, Hovvdy, Dijon. “Lemon Cream” vinyl is for Indies Only. Follow up to 2019’s critically acclaimed ‘bunny’. Sam Hall’s new album as ghost orchard, ‘rainbow music’, is a collage of patience and meditation. It’s filled with nuances as quietly imperceptible as the seasons, or the profound movement of time, where one day looking back you realize your whole spirit has shifted. Where 2019’s critically revered ‘bunny’ was a love letter to a romantic relationship, ‘rainbow music’ documents the culmination of Hall’s first personal experience with loss in several forms. At the end of 2020, his longterm childhood pet passed away, and with it the last continuing threads of familiarity between being a kid and adulthood. Still based in the Grand Rapids, Michigan town he’d grown up in, the static ease of familiar living seemed to be coming apart at the seams, as friends moved on to bigger cities, relationships shapeshifted and in a short period of time, another kitten he’d adopted passed away prematurely, leaving Hall to question the trajectory in which he himself was headed. Like “songs in the key of life,” the title ‘rainbow music’ refers to the myriad of colors and qualities within Hall that are refracted throughout. It’s a symbolization of hope and the aftermath, the flickering light at the end of the tunnel (or “when a rainbow shows up after a big storm”). “Wish I could have fun anymore,” Hall ruminates on “dancing”, as well as confessing he “wish he made more upbeat bangers.” But reality packs more of a punch, and this collection of songs sees him finally be at peace with the current state of affairs. Relatable to anyone who has contemplated what it means to settle down, or even just catch your breath in an era where anguish is commonplace, the release of ‘rainbow music’ is a happy ending in its own right, a marker of survival that remains close to the bone. // Ghost Orchard’s “bunny” is a blushing, beatific beat. - The FADER // Fluttering and transportive, a swirl of beats and plucky guitar and strings that feels like a cocoon. - Stereogum // Hip-hop inflected, stream-of-consciousness confessionals that’ll have you swooning in the lazy summer sunlight. – Paste // Track listing: 01. Rest 02. Jessamine 03. Cursive 04. Maisy 05. Cut 06. soot 07. memory storage 08. Dancing 09. bruise 10. sweet song 11. comfort (rainbow)

2LP black vinyl in a gatefold sleeve, polylined inners and download code. 2 x CD in 6 panel digifile sleeve.
When Darren Hayman made his debut in 1997 with the acclaimed indie band Hefner his lyrical remit was the broken hearted. His early songs told the story of the lonesome and lost, and broken dreams of love on the back streets of London. After Hefner, Hayman’s palette grew to include a unique take on place and memory. In the early 2000s he wrote a trilogy of albums around the history of Essex. In 2012 he made an instrumental album describing the tranquillity of Lidos. In 2016 Darren was awarded ‘Hardest Working Musician’ by the Association of Independent Music for his epic project on Thankful Villages, the 55 villages that survived the Great War with no casualties. His most recent record, 12 Astronauts, tells the personal story of the only men to have walked on the Moon. Darren is continually obsessed with the idea of what songs can be, and the stories they can tell. As he explains, “With projects like Thankful Villages, I became interested in what a record could be, using field recordings, interviews and songs to make sound collages. I wanted to return to the stricter art of song writing and try and make the twelve best compositions I could. I wanted to make useful songs, words that could be comfort, not just thoughts that would depress.” // "bold and unique" The Sunday Times // "Its delicately observed song cycle unfolds like a novella or short film, with tracks that might seem slight in isloation gaining resonance in situ." Q // “Bugbears is a rich and warming curio, and there’s something quietly noble about Hayman dragging the thoughts of these long-dead writers back into the light.” Mojo // “uniquely intimate and very satisfying” - BBC // “Hayman has hit a creative purple patch… a treat”. Mojo

Puckered with ruggedly pointillist swagger and evoking discrete worlds hidden in plain sight, »Traditional Music of South London« is a riveting masterwork by experimental music’s distinctive and cherished modernist, Dale Cornish. It is a concrète grimoire of recent and ancient folklore that binds Dale’s music, lyrics, and background into a strikingly personal synecdoche of South London.

Since emerging as part of London’s shouty electroclash movement in the mid ‘00s, and assuming the role of deconstructed rave pioneer and poet in 2011, Dale Cornish has been (lo)key to new movements in electronic music’s underbelly for the best part of this century. His 12th LP, proper, »Traditional Music of South London« is Dale’s definitive record; a confident testament to artistic maturity that comes with doing your thing against the grain over decades, and a potent expansion on ideas chiselled during his run of releases with the inspirational (now sadly defunct) label, Entr’acte, who helped foster Dale’s explorations of concrète rave and industrial pop tropes during the ‘10s.

On one level the album reads as a deep topography or psychosexual-geography of London’s lost gay club haunts, with the meat-motoring deep house of ‘Great Storm’ recalling DJ Sprinkles taking Loefah to the darkroom in its concrète carved and flesh trembling 8:08 perfection; or more literally in »Foxhole«, with Dale’s deliciously Croydon-toned accent describing urban gay mythologies with pungent lyrics about rotten fox cadavers synced to drily ricocheting hand claps, while the tight swinge of his “requiem for all the dead gay venues” in the gut-level bass of »Hoist Crash Fort«, and the playful evocation of “internecine conflict within the gays - live!” on »Palace Intrigue« just utterly slap like nothing else.

Yet it’s in the LP’s slower, bloozier and folky vocal bits that Dale’s dare- to-differ character comes into its own. The clandestine skulk of ‘My Geography’ portrays him like a modern Jandek traversing London’s brutalist- meets-semi rural meridian, and at its gooier core flashes of folk-classical brilliance such as the groggy ‘Norman Lewis’ give way to the writhing foley orgy of »Crowd Scene«, while the naked, one-take end of szn paean of »SCY BFR HNH« and slurred, Tricky-esque confessional »Shout Outs« consolidate and temper the conflicting aspects of his persona with a deep burning pathos in the LP’s fading phosphorescence.

In an era of overproduction and imitation-not-innovation, Dale’s strikingly original, sensually brutalist industro-folk-dance-pop critically cocks a snook at conventional, careerist music while embracing its heartical truths. An extremely personal record certain to resonate with those who believe art in music still matters.

repress

Levon Vincent returns with his fourth full-length studio album Silent Cities a striking departure from his previous records. This, his first release experimenting with the cassette format, Silent Cities is a kind of mixtape through more private moods and personal pitches (literally given Levon’s non-standard tunings).

While Levon has always pro
duced dance floor jams with the intention of raising people’s heart rates, Silent Cities began with 72 bpm: his average resting heart rate, and the concept of tuning the music he was making to his own body rather than increasing anything. This brought the tempos down to 72 bpm or even half of that, at 36bpm. Programming the record during the empty cityscape of Berlin lockdowns, this is the first time Levon’s created an album for the home stereo or for headphone listening whilst navigating through a city. A mixtape specialist in his youth; he was always wanted to play with the cassette format. The results are sure to delight any listener, with the ever-present ambient, krautrock, shoegaze, hip-hop and electro influences coming to the foreground on this work.

“I was expanding further along the lines of a surprise favourite from my previous LP, a song called She Likes To Wave To Passing Boats which was not a 4 on-the-floor piece to play in clubs but a more impressionistic piece of music that I wrote to expound some emotions one day” says Levon. “It was a song written using just intonation. I really love how warm the pure 4ths sound, so when working on the new LP Silent Cities I decided to use my own tunings”.

Historically, the use of just intonation has meant that such instruments could sound "in tune" in one key but at the expense of more dissonance in the other keys. None of the songs on Silent Cities use standard Western equal temperament, Levon created his own scale designs coupled with the ancient ratios found in just intonation.

Born in Houston in 1975, Levon’s life changed dramatically when his parents moved their family to New York in 1981, uprooted from what he knew, the shock, the change from Houston to New York at 6 years old, is referred to constantly in Levon’s Musical output over the years. Levon's family moved houses in and around NYC from 1981 -2010, never more than a mile or two from the WTC. He lived on the Lower East Side during his teenage years and early 20s. This time period and this locale are also a big theme recurrent in his music as he tries to convey how the "downtown" lifestyle and culture-melding affected him so much at a tender age. He cut his teeth working in record shops around lower Manhattan, and while working at the Halcyon Record shop in Brooklyn he (alongside DJ Jus-Ed) was instrumental in creating the wave that came to be known as the "NYC House Renaissance" circa 2010. During the Y2K years he studied 20th C post-minimalism at Purchase college of New York under James McElwaine (who tangentially produced Man Parrish’s Self-Titled proto-hip-hop debt LP). Levon was fortunate to study theory with avant-garde composer Dary John Mizelle and orchestration under conductor Joel Thome. He undertook masterclasses with Philip Glass and also served as intern for John Kilgore, engineer for Steve Reich, where he was present for notable mix sessions such as “Violin Phase.”

Post-minimalism clearly remains an influence not to mention the early sampler stars of 80s freestyle and synth pop. Mixing such far-reaching influences is something Levon executes tremendously well. The first track Everlasting Joy moves at a head nodding 96 BPM tempo, reflecting formative influences like Paul Hardcastle’s Rainforest or Art Of Noise’s Moments in Love. “Those types of songs were a big eye opener for me as a youth, because it was where I realised songs in popular culture didn’t have to be kept to just 3 minutes, and they didn’t require vocals either. So, Everlasting Joy is a song with that intention, one that might be radio-friendly, despite the long arrangement and without vocals. You could say it was inspired by 107.5 in NY because that was a station I listened to a lot in the 1980’s.”

The majority of demos on Silent Cities were recorded before Covid-19 hit the world - when Levon had found a studio space outside of home in his adopted city of Berlin. It was a career first - working on music outside the bedroom. This riding the train or bicycling ‘going to work’ in Berlin opened up a new mood in his music, using the time back and forth to be inspired - commuting as an NYC transplant who still feels as a tourist in Berlin, with a pair of headphones, looking out the window on the train, or stopping on bridges and parking his bike to enjoy Berlin's skyline and horizon. Then, the pandemic struck and “work” came to a halt. Levon had recorded so much material during that year in the studio out of house it seemed like an inflection point for him to lighten the burden of the possessions he was carrying.

“People close to me have watched me give away synths and hardware regularly and I have given away my record collection every few years for my whole life. As a struggling artist in my 20s who had worked in record stores that whole time, I learned that moving constantly with 12k records just wasn't the way to live. So, in light of the pandemic, I set up a shop online, and sold all my music equipment. I also created a separate shop for all my sneakers and clothes. Easy come, Easy go. This provided me with a slow drip type of income that carried me quite well through the pandemic and it allowed me to focus on my own art and music. Getting rid of all my possessions felt like a weight being lifted from my shoulders and I was able to stay the course and remain committed to the music. I needed a further 2 years to mix and arrange the LP. If it weren’t for the pandemic, I would not been able to make this type of LP, so in light of everything, I was able to turn a depressing time in to something lasting and musically very positive.”

You can hear how his approach to a cassette release retains the "Medium is the Message." ethos. Silent Cities is a spooling, warm piece about life memories and embodiment.

For over two decades Bjørke has cut his own path, as a solo artist and enthusiastic collaborator. Bjørke’s Copenhagen home may be one of Europe’s great cultural hubs, and he’s certainly added a paragraph or two to that story, but his music is distinctly international. Even a cursory listen exposes an impressive, ever-evolving career. However, few expected him to initiate the collaborative ambient / neo-classical project Kasper Bjørke Quartet. In 2018 The Fifty Eleven Project was released on Kompakt Records, a deeply personal record that musically documents Bjørkes encounter with, and triumph over, cancer. The album topped many critics' lists, and was included among The Guardian’s Best Contemporary Albums of the year.

Mother, which will be released on October 28th, represents a quantum leap forward. Literally, when you consider the terrestrial shifts that informed it. Six compositions explore what the evolution of our planet sounds like. While Holst may have gotten there first, Mother singularly focuses on the orb where we reside, from its formation, to its likely conclusion. Other artists have tackled song cycles that parallel a day, a year, or even a lifetime. Mother spans a timeframe from 4.5 billion years ago up to humankind’s impending demise. It hints at how that may be sooner than we think, as well as the earth’s resilience, and the promise of another chapter.

Additional gravity comes courtesy of evocative choir arrangements - - and marimba recorded at the Copenhagen Opera House. “Formation” condenses 20 million years of runaway accretion into 20 minutes. It is sublimely padded by feature artist Sofie Birch’s gentle synths. “Abiogenesis” intimates a different type of emergence: the first life to inhabit our nascent planet. The entire cosmos is condensed into the layered vocals of Philip|Schneider. Birch returns on “Miocene,” which signals the divergence of proto-humans from primates not with foreboding, but rather cascaded notes and swells adumbrating a pure and curious being, revealing nothing of what the Catch-22 of knowledge will bring. That’s addressed in the diptych of “Anthropocene” and “Tipping Points,” respectively marking the dawn and foreshadowing the probable downfall of homosapians, through wondrous advancements and their climate damaging byproducts. It’s tempting to think the album’s finale, “Requiem,” implies only a dark conclusion, owing to its sparkling verrillon’s coronach, and the return of Philip|Schneider’s empyrean vocals, but its juxtaposition with revolving, enigmatic piano chords infers the earth will enter its next act.

Mother is a staggering achievement, encouraging contemplative thought. The album is released October 28th on Kompakt Records, both digitally and on limited edition double vinyl. The atwork is designed by multidisciplinary artist Trevor Jackson.

Seit mehr als zwei Jahrzehnten folgt Kasper Bjørke seinem ganz eigenen Weg, sowohl als Solokünstler als auch als umtriebiger Kollaborateur, während er gleichzeitig das Beste aus Techno, Pop, Elektro, New Wave, House, Ambient, Italo und klassischer Disco aufgreift und in seinen Produktionen zusammenfügt. Bjørke’s Heimat Kopenhagen gilt als eines der großen kulturellen Zentren Europas, und die Stadt hat dieser Geschichte sicherlich den einen oder anderen Absatz hinzugefügt, aber Kasper’s Musik ist eindeutig international. Schon ein flüchtiges Hineinhören gibt den Blick frei auf eine beeindruckende, sich ständig weiterentwickelnde Karriere. Nur wenige hätten jedoch erwartet, dass dieser Werdegang 2018 in der Gründung eines neoklassischen Quartetts gipfeln würde. In diesem Jahr wurde “The Fifty Eleven Project” auf KOMPAKT veröffentlicht. Ein sehr persönliches Album, das musikalisch dokumentierte, wie Bjørke seinen Kampf gegen den Krebs gewonnen hatte. Es wurde unter anderem in die Liste der besten zeitgenössischen Klassik-Alben des Jahres von The Guardian aufgenommen.

“Mother”, das am 28. Oktober erscheint, ist ein Quantensprung für das Kasper Bjørke Quartett. Im wahrsten Sinne des Wortes, wenn man die tektonischen Bewegungen bedenkt, die dem Album zugrunde liegen. Sechs Kompositionen erforschen, wie sich die Evolution unseres Planeten anhört. Gustav Holst (englischer Komponist, dessen bekanntestes Werk die Orchestersuite “Die Planeten” darstellt; Anm. des Übersetzers) war vielleicht zuerst da, aber “Mother” konzentriert sich ausschließlich auf die Erdkugel, auf der wir uns befinden, von ihrer Entstehung bis zu ihrem wahrscheinlichen Ende. Andere Künstler haben sich mit Songzyklen beschäftigt, die einen Tag, ein Jahr oder sogar ein ganzes Leben abdecken. “Mother” umfasst etwa 4,5 Milliarden Jahre, vom Anfang aller Zeit bis zum bevorstehenden Untergang der Menschheit. Das Werk deutet an, dass dies schneller geschehen könnte, als wir alle denken, aber auch die Widerstandsfähigkeit der Erde und das Versprechen auf ein neues Kapitel.

Für zusätzliche Erdanziehung sorgen stimmungsvolle Chor Arrangements und eine Marimba-Sektion, die im Kopenhagener Opernhaus aufgenommen wurde. "Formation" verdichtet 20 Millionen Jahre unkontrollierter Akkumulation in 20 Minuten, subtil untermalt von den sanften Klängen der Ambient-Künstlerin Sofie Birch. "Abiogenesis" beschreibt das erste Leben, das entsteht und unseren Planeten besiedelt. Der gesamte Kosmos verdichtet sich hier in den vielschichtigen Vocals von Philip|Schneider. Birch taucht erneut im Track "Miocene" auf, in dem das evolutionäre Streben des Proto-Menschen weg vom Primaten noch keine böse Vorahnung enthält, sondern mit kaskadenartigen Sounds und langsam anschwellenden Klängen musikalisch vom reinen und neugierigen Wesen des Menschen erzählt, in dem noch nichts von der Zwickmühle zum Vorschein kommt, in die ihn sein Wissen bringen wird.

Das wird im Diptychon "Anthropocene" und "Tipping Points" thematisiert, die den Anfang vom Ende, den Beginn des wahrscheinlichen Untergangs des Homo sapiens durch die Folgen des Fortschritts und seiner klimaschädlichen Nebenprodukte vorhersagen. Es ist naheliegend zu denken, dass das Finale des Albums, "Requiem", nur das düstere Ende von allem darstellt. Doch as funkelnde Glockenspiel und Philip|Schneiders eindringlicher Gesang in Gegenüberstellung mit sich windenden und erratischen Klavierakkorden deuten an, dass die Geschichte der Erde ein neues Kapitel aufschlagen wird.

Mother ist eine beeindruckende Performance, die zum Nachdenken anregt.

Freedom is both an integral and multi-layered topic for improvised music, describing its mechanics, aesthetics, and values and often an underlying political dimension as well. In the case of free jazz specifically, the word carries additional weight given the music's deep connection to the black liberation movement of the 1960's and 70's.

The passionate and unclassifiable work of Calgary-based improviser Jairus Sharif embraces each of these definitions of freedom and others, albeit strictly on its own personal and idiosyncratic terms. Since early 2020, the 34 year-old autodidact has been generating a steady stream of homespun solo recordings that forge unprecedented connections between hip-hop abstraction, cosmic skronk, outsider jazz, and staunch post-punk DIY ethos.

Leading up to the pandemic, Sharif's immersion in spiritual and exploratory jazz had culminated in him deciding to purchase an alto saxophone. Unbeknownst to him this instrument would be a catalyst for him to discover his own ardently individualistic artistic voice.

Prior to that point, he had always been somewhat of a solitary musical traveler. In 2002, he acquired his first instrument—a pair of Technics 1200s — but struggled to find local collaborators that had equal investment in hip hop culture. Ultimately, Sharif picked up the guitar, turning to the resilient local punk community, that had also nurtured both of his mothers some time earlier.

As Black Lives Matter gained momentum in the wake of George Floyd's murder, Sharif was suddenly flooded with an acute awareness of his own identity. It compelled him to zealously plunge headlong into open-ended spontaneous solo creation. Water & Tools, his strange and stirring debut for Toronto's Telephone Explosion Records (home to full-lengths from the likes of Brodie West's Eucalyptus, Mas Aya, and Joseph Shabason), offers a glimpse into this ongoing hermetic journey.

As Sharif dedicated himself to uncovering his own deeper musical truths, he assembled a home studio in his basement, cobbling together a drum kit from bits his bandmate had left at his house pre-pandemic, chaining effects together and outfitting the entire space with microphones. Somewhere between the chaos of child's treehouse and the tidy import of a shrine, this space (pictured on the album's back cover) consecrated his own imagination. He laid it out to maximize access to any and every tool in his arsenal, providing him a freedom to explore that he had never permitted himself to consummate before.

Within this cozy private universe, his recent purchase—the saxophone—assumed new meaning. It furnished a tangible connection to the black radicalism that mobilized free jazz, but also something far more personal. From a technical standpoint, the instrument was completely unfamiliar to him, yet rather than this being a hindrance to Sharif, his inexperience opened fruitful path forward, unencumbered by preconceptions. Resolving to shirk formal training, convention, and build his own understanding of it from scratch, allowed him to access his most raw, fundamental creative impulses. The Saxophone's inseverable bond with breath compounded this effect, echoing revelatory discoveries he had been making about breathing through yoga, research, and psychotherapy. Of course, the parallels with BLM's harrowing rallying cry—“I can't breathe”—were not lost on him either.

Water & Tools is a dense, contradictory statement with a blustery surface that shelters a soulful heart. It's generous music, exuding profound vulnerability—grappling with the loss of one his mothers, Lisa—all the while brimming with electric wide-eyed wonder. Almost every one of the nine pieces seems to carry some semblance of a groove, while remaining completely untethered from pulse. For Sharif, this collection is an expression of newfound lucidity, however for the listener his sonic concoctions act as powerful psychotropics. At points, there's a timelessness that's conveyed through the music's processional, ritualistic tenor, and yet there's an endless amount of wild, futuristic detail waiting to unspool at any given moment. Similarly, while this recording emerges from Sharif's private pilgrimage and personal emancipation, he also leaves room for collaboration. Woven throughout Sharif's one-man-ensemble textures, one finds Maxmilian Turnbull (of Badge Epoque, U.S. Girls, and Cosmic Range infamy) providing sundry keyboards and treatments, as well as his mixing skills.

Whether conjuring effusive psychedelia or plumbing introspective depths, the music that Jairus Sharif produces is singular, visceral, and wondrously unpredictable. Water & Tools sketches a raw, firsthand account of his nascent explorations within his own unbridled imagination.

ASA 808's new album Boy, crush is a very personal inner journey as well as a call to fight and free ourselves from toxic masculinity. In eight tracks that subtly merge electronica, ambient, breakbeat and house, the Berlin-based artist process their own quest for gender identity. Out on vinyl and digital via the TOYS Berlin imprint, the album proposes new, softer and more diverse forms of gender fluidity.

ASA 808 invites listeners to expand their views of the gender spectrum. The title Boy, crush plays with the term "boy crush" and is meant as an encouragement for all men to "collectively crush manhood" with all its toxic traits and consequences:

"Toxic masculinity has kept our grandmothers and mothers small and brought deviant boys into line. It took me a long time to unlearn so much sexism and queerphobia and find my inner queer child again to let it grow, bloom and shine. I dream of a world in which men emasculate themselves. In which masculinity (if we feel it's still needed) will embrace softness, weakness, vulnerability, solidarity, consideration, mindfulness, self-reflectiveness and nonviolence", explains the non-binary producer and DJ who discovered their gender-nonconforming side already at an early age.

Reggie B returns with his much awaited NBN release "Tinky's Jam.” This is his first full length album since “Soulofunkaquarian” released with INnatesounds. The album was most definitely worth the wait. It takes the listener through a personal and musical journey inspired by the birth of his son, who he affectionately calls “Tinky,” and the connection they share. Tinky was a major part of this album, oftentimes found in the studio during the conceptions of many of the songs. This album is unlike any other record released by the Kansas born producer, multi instrumentalist, singer and arranger. After the birth of his son, he was inspired and encouraged to get back into the musical game by the head of NBN, Onra. "Tinky's Jam" is something of a family affair with friends and old collaborators playing their part.

Born into a musical family to parents who were two sides of the same coin, a father who was one of the most renowned drummers in Topeka, Kansas funk and jazz fusion scenes and a mother who was one of the most prominent gospel singers in the city. The apple didn't fall far from the tree and Reggie has spent his life performing and playing with a healthy slew of releases.

This album is the result of countless days in the studio which yielded scores of a dozen slabs of head nodding funk.

Mostly instrumental and showcasing Reggie's many styles from the heavy bounce of "Futuristic Slow", to the George Clinton nod on "P For Life", and the crafted soul of "Gone Fishing" with Dominique Sanders to the cool street jazz feel of "Realize" with Donald Hates's sax adding flare as well as the beat of "Nose Dive" providing the nod factor for the heads.

Closing out the LP ``Tinky's Dance" - a raw soulful jam that lies somewhere between Prince and Larry Heard - for Reggie "the whole project felt like a gift to me and my baby boy Tinky! I wanted to let him know he’s always in my heart and soul and I love my Tinky man infinitely! It’s a children's album for the elevated child like Tinky!”

After two successful 7’ releases, Eastside Edits is back once again! Continuing their mission to deliver dance floor filling, DJ friendly edits to the 45 community worldwide, Eastside Edits 003 will have every DJ lining up to put copies in their collection!

Side A) LeBaron James brings their magic to a disco boogie classic by the Jones Girls. Keep It Coming was filling dance floors in the 80’s, and this sure shot edit brings a modern groove, pounding drums, and ear grabbing synths. LeBaron James are currently blowing up, releasing music on countless labels and booking DJ gigs worldwide. These guys are at the top of their game and continue to take giant leaps forward in their music careers!

Side B) Baller is no stranger to the 45 community. He co-founded Eastside Edits in 2021 and established himself on Twitch with his personal brand of high energy, open format DJ sets. The 7’ Candi Flip is an upbeat remix of an 80s gem by The Source featuring vocals by Candi Staton. This tune’s energy is sure to make the dance floor move, and its super catchy vocal hook will have the whole crowd singing along!

MADFISH PRESENTS STEVE HILLAGE'S PREVIOUSLY UNRELEASED
LEGENDARY GLASTONBURY 1979 PERFORMANCE. On Friday 21st June
1979, the Steve Hillage Band performed a headline set of soaring
psychedelic guitar riffs of cosmic aspirations
The summer solstice night was a pivotal point in Steve Hillage's musical journey
& this recording, provided from Steve's personal archives, will cement the
performance as historic.Prior to the festival, Steve & the band spent two weeks
rehearsing in a barn at Worthy Farm, site of the Glastonbury Festival. They crafted
a set fitting & psychedelically uplifting enough to truly celebrate the longest day
of Summer at such an auspicious location. Steve was an integral member of the
Glasto team alongside Michael Eavis, Pyramid' Bill Harkin & Turbosound/Funktion
One's Tony Andrews. Their work focalised the 1979 Fayre, helping the rebirth of
the first of the modern Glastonbury Festivals. After spending the 80's in music
production, Steve & his partner Miquette Giraudy returned to recording & live
performance in the 90's with the dance-oriented System 7 & was fundamental in
the introduction of the Dance Stage to Glastonbury in 1995.
Presented on CD in deluxe media book with 24-page booklet and LP w/ Gatefold
sleeve.

Opaque pink vinyl LP. For fans of: Tirzah, Caroline Polachek, Erika de Casier, Oklou, Smerz. Between the ages of 2 and 18, Cora Gilroy-Ware lived in a haunted place. On the outside, this small edge of Connecticut coastline was a quintessential New England town. Yet beneath its quaint surface was a netherworld that got steadily darker over the course of those sixteen years. From a serious drug problem to environmental pollution leading to deadly illnesses, frequent suicides and an above average number of fatal accidents, something about this place was cursed. Amid this world Cora was an outsider, someone who preferred pop and RnB to the music of her peers, who mostly subscribed to the dregs of a Deadhead culture that was more nihilistic than utopian. Still, she found herself on weekends drinking in the woods with the rest of them, playing along until it was time to leave. Christmas breaks and summer months were spent across the Atlantic in a completely antithetical environment. In London, the city of her birth, Cora spent her teen years taking the bus home at dawn after raves under the railroad arches, or riding the tube to her cousin’s house in Camden. For a long time, Cora’s life was composed of these two strands—ghostly East Coast suburbia and inner-city London—which she was forced to fold in and out of one another like a two-strand French braid. She quickly learned to adapt and be whoever the particular moment demanded. Her outsider status was intensified by the fact that, being of mixed Afro-Caribbean and European descent, her family didn’t look like the others in Connecticut. In the 2000s, this meant Cora had to contend with a deeply ingrained kind of folk-racism, both conscious and unconsciously expressed. Nobody talked about these things back then, and she internalized a lot of shame. The ability to shape-shift became integral to Cora’s artistic practice. Her survival mechanism at school was to carve out her own worlds through visual art and dance. Music was less of a creative outlet than a way of life, something like a form of religion for her family, who all played instruments and saw music as the form to which all art aspires. She studied violin and learned enough guitar chords to write her first songs. Cora always wanted to be a performer, but, having moved around constantly, craved stability and independence. Eager to make her own way in the world, she began to write about painting and sculpture, which eventually led to time spent working in Naples, Italy and a day job teaching the History of Art at university level. It wasn’t until 2018 that Cora first shared her first songs with the wider world. Having collaborated and played live with Jam City (Jack Latham, who has co-produced each of her releases), she finally embarked on a solo career, which for her felt inevitable, only a matter of time. Following four acclaimed EPs—Toxic Femininity (2018), Lashes in a Landfill (2019), Dreamcatcher (2020) and Maiden No More (2021), this year will see the release of her debut album The Golden Ass. For her artist name she chose, “Fauness”: a play on the Latin faunus, a woodland god with the body of a man and the horns, ears, and legs of a goat. The feminine equivalent—fauness—is a modern invention, made up by rococo sculptors in 18th century France. Cora was drawn to this pseudonym because of its temporal layers and amalgamation of beauty and beast, which, for her, captures something of her complex personal story. an utterly individual voice in underground pop music" - The FADER // "a sparkling sweet pop ride" – NYLON // “It is hard to write a perfect pop song. It’s even harder to make it look as easy as London artist Fauness” - GUARDIAN GUIDE // Tracks 01. Lonely 02. Mystery 03. Peaches 04. Hours 05. Siena 06. Grape & Grain 07. Laura 08. High 09. Cinnamon 10. Girl In The Moon

10” black vinyl + DL card.

Josephine Foster's peculiar 2000 home recorded debut There Are Eyes Above is an essential introduction to her music that’s unfolded now for over two decades. Released for the first time on vinyl, this limited edition 10-inch pressing comes packaged with brand new artwork and is adorned by one of Josephine’s illustrations. Lo-fi and unaffected by tradition or commercialism these initial recordings are sepia-tinted, folk-art music with powered by uke minimalism; it’s outsider music that still doesn't fit in. Just 30-minutes caught in time before her 2001 follow up Little Life - this humble first incarnation includes here for posterity super personal lullabies and a glimpse into her songwriting evolution. It’s music from an era that only exists in your mind, with a bow to Tin Pan Alley for good measure. This super rare collection, originally only released on CDR and sold at shows, remains an essential part of the curious oeuvre of this unique songwriter and singer. “A dissonant soprano and lyrics about benevolence and old-time faith, Foster expertly weaves ancient and modern” The Guardian. Track listing: Side A 1 One Hundred Songs I Sing 2 Emily Told Me 3 Teeter Totter 4 Little Life 5 I Am A Guest In Here. Side B 6 Robber Song 7 Hey Matthew 8 There Are Eyes Above 9 Godcake 10 Yippee I'm Leaving 11Two Not One

Promise & Illusion is the first LP from Ecka Mordecai, following the release of her solo Critique + Prosper on Takuroku in 2020. Cello, voice, horsehair harp, violin and field recordings combine to spin narrative melody, rich intimacy and melancholic landscapes. Composed around an exploration of la charnière (from the French ‘hinge’), Promise & Illusion begins with the sound of footsteps and a door opening and closing repeatedly, unsure whether to let us into the mysterious interior beyond. We are reminded of the house of Penny Slinger in An Exorcism, an abandoned mansion of gothic hallways and inky corridors. “woe are we” twists violin and voice together into the sort of tension and high drama heard in “The Executioner” - Henning Christiansen’s soundtracks made for the films of his partner Ursula Reuter Christiansen in the 1970’s. Then things begin to soften, almost despite themselves. Distortion on ‘a unit has no unity’ can’t quite smother a rising tune on warped harp. The cello on ‘indigos’ - its voice pizzicato with a velvety sustain - brings comfort and clarity. Mordecai hums a line, feeling out the edges of a song in an intimate release of tension. We are across the threshold - into a romantic sort of nocturnal gloom that feels somewhat out of place in London’s experimental music scene. Trained on viola da gamba as part of a renaissance youth group in the historic midland town of Stafford, Mordecai went on to study performance art in Brighton, later graduating in sound art in London. She performed with David Toop and Rie Nakajima as part of Allan Kaprow’s Yard at the Hepworth Gallery, as well as performing scores by Yoko Ono and George Brecht solo at White Cube Gallery as part of Christian Marclay’s Liquids exhibition. Later, various moves across the north of England found her working with Andrew Chalk and Tom James Scott (forming the trio CIRCÆA), Miles Whittaker (of Demdike Stare) and performing alongside free improvisers. A myriad of influences have crossed her path, her work slowly taking shape across music concrète, improvisation and performance art. A more recent recording with Valerio Tricoli as ‘Mordecoli’ made during the development of Promise & Illusion found its final form as a cassette - a collage of sustained tones, ominous atmospheres and brief 4th wall dissolving vocal interaction. With both CIRCÆA and Mordecoli, Mordecai deals with landscapes - playing with the imaginary over the real and using improvisation as a useful way to dream. On Promise & Illusion, Mordecai sharpens her focus and pivots toward the interior over the exterior - the landscape becoming a personal, psychological one - both comforting and strange. Tracks 4, 5, 7 & 10 recorded and mixed by Adam Matschulat in December 2020. All others recorded and mixed by Ecka Mordecai. Mastered by Shaun Crook at Lockdown Studios, London. Artwork by Ecka Mordecai. Layout by Zofia Sobota.

Track list: 1 la charnière I 2 woe are we 3 a unit has no unity 4 indigos 5 study of a flame 6 la charnière II 7 promise & illusion 8 hush now you say 9 tempera 10 mistakes & continue

Here it is finally, the third and latest album by New York City band Five Dollar Priest. Continuing the sounds and style of their previous albums, on Eyes Injected with Love Five Dollar Priest stamp their personalities on a base of Lower East Side free-jazz, no wave and dirty, very dirty rock. But they go deeper and deeper into it this time, with songs about hard times and low life in the New York City streets, which they know perfectly well. These definitely aren't easy sounds and this is not music for the masses or the newbies -- this is top-class weird and sick melodies and lyrics which Bang! Records are truly proud to release. Five Dollar Priest include, among others, great musicians: Ron Ward (Speedball Baby, Wobbly Organ); Grasshopper (Mercury Rev); Christina Campanella (Speedball Baby); Norman Westberg (Swans).

Released on gold vinyl, ‘The Coincidentalist’ and ‘Dust Bowl’ are two discs of Howe Gelb filled with randomness and happenstance, a typical treasure trove spanning all genres from alt country to Cohen-esque grandeur. They traverse, unflinchingly, his chameleon-like repertoire. This deluxe re-issue includes ‘Dust Bowl’ on vinyl for the very first time, with the records housed in a gatefold sleeve featuring updated artwork and liner notes. ‘The Coincidentalist’, originally released in 2013, features a raft of friends and collaborators including Bonnie Prince Billy, Andrew Bird, M. Ward, Steve Shelley, and Jason Lytle of Grandaddy with John Parrish on mixing duties. Ever the focal point of Giant Sand and Gelb releases, the Arizona Desert serves as a key inspiration for the record, animating the barren landscape with stories of those that have navigated them. Praise for the release was not short, with AllMusic proclaiming that it’s “one of Gelb's most realized efforts; despite its relaxed, airy presentation, it's musically and lyrically provocative, as poetic, strange, and mysterious as the desert itself." The accompanying collection ‘Dust Bowl’ is a personal sketchbook of songs, a more stripped back set than it’s counterpart. Featuring everything from the country blues of ‘Porch Banjo’ and ‘John Deere’, to off-kilter piano ballads like ‘The Old Overrated’ and ‘Reality Or Not’ and the deconstructed desert pop on ‘Forever And A Day’ and the fragile ‘Man On A String’. ‘Dust Bowl’ is an insider’s view of Howe’s songwriting craft, a unique insight into the man himself. “‘Dust Bowl’ was primarily for fans that have followed me for a while. ‘The Coincidentalist’ is for the friends of the fans.” Howe told Under The Radar. While Nightlife magazine reported that; “Without warning, the Giant Sand frontman and polymorphous countryman dropped this compilation of house recordings via Bandcamp… At a time when so much harmless, soulless folk resonates, Howe Gelb is a mandatory point of reference for any fan of the genre.”

We love nothing more than belated success, from the Nightingales' rise to top cult band, to the string of five marvelous Blue Orchids LPs in six years (as much as Martin Bramah had managed in the previous four decades) . . . so give us more. Like David Westlake. The release of NME's C86 cassette heralded a new generation of artists who'd emerged since the preceding C81 assembled a set of acts who'd coaxed new dialects out of punk, rhythms, reggae and the avant-garde. Though variable, C86 became a phenomenon, making a bigger splash and enduring longer than anyone could have predicted. The evolution by 1986 of "independent" or "alternative" music into "indie" brought a modified focus. From C81's post-punk negotiations of politics and cross-cultural influence to C86's compact blasts of, on the one hand, effervescent melodic pop and, on the other, jagged Beefheart-esque racket. Tiny Global Productions has proudly presented already one of the best from C86. The Wolfhounds' leader David Callahan's talent evolved masterfully into Moonshake, and more recently to a strain of blistering raga-folk psychedelia which deals with sociopolitical issues in brilliantly idiosyncratic fashion. And what of another of the best from C86 - the Servants, David Westlake's band? Ambivalent about the invitation to be on C86, Westlake gave the NME a wrong-footing b-side, before keeping a distance from the noise around the compilation. Subsequent releases from Westlake and The Servants and Westlake attracted fine reviews but settled quietly into relative obscurity, despite musical involvement from various Housemartins, Go-Betweens and Triffids, a quest by Stuart from Belle & Sebastian to find Westlake and form a band; not to mention Luke Haines' own five-year presence in the Servants before forming The Auteurs, Baader Meinhof and Black Box Recorder. Westlake went first into the law, then spent years in literary academia. Now the surprise arrival of My Beautiful England. The album is a masterpiece of concept, composition and performance, a conceptual work of truths and reflections of difficult but deft and unflinching expression. "It is not only fashionable now to denigrate England and its past; it is heresy to recognise good in it. The place that made me is disappearing. Its values and traditions. Among them: good manners, humility and clemency, resilience and perseverance, good humour. History is being refashioned – in spirit and material fact – by ideologues unshakeably certain they are in the right, and people are being distanced from their pasts. Some find themselves forced into passive acceptance of new distortions of the past, out of imitativeness or cowardice. I resist. This album is a memorial. Intentionally, a museum piece. It is a personal tribute to the England I knew."

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 purest reflection of DRS as a musician to date, his self-titled 'Del-Rok-Ski' album sees one of the most heavyweight lyricists in the game delve deep into the intricacies of himself to deliver an honest, inward, and characteristically beautiful work of art. His fifth album in the space of three transformative years, the Manchester-based artist has found a home for his latest album on Shogun Audio, traversing an eclectic and beguiling selection of sonic soundscapes across twelve of the purest tracks that you'll hear this year.

Whilst incorporating the powerful messaging and undeniable lyrical expertise that DRS has demonstrated for over a decade, 'Del-Rok-Ski' offers something that none of the previous albums has been able to. Marking two years sober, this latest offering investigates previously unexplored territories for DRS. "I feel like music has never been me", says the vocalist, who truly feels that this album, which evolves from moods of darkness and loss to those of lightness and hope, is an unadulterated reflection of himself to its core.

Teaming up with a selection of hugely talented collaborators, including the likes of Calibre, LSB, Dub Phizix, Duskee, Disrupta, Monrroe, and many more, 'Del-Rok-Ski' sees DRS serve up a heartfelt, intimate, and personal lyrical journey that is arguably his best work to date.

Through the heartwrenching, high-energy feels of 'Can't Explain (Faded) ft. Document One', summer anthems such as 'Waiting To Go ft. Disrupta & Duskee' and 'Heavens Not Cheap ft. Drumantle', certified dancefloor destroyers like 'Comme Ci' and 'They Ain't Listening', which are both produced by T95, and many other gems embedded in this album, DRS further cements his reputation as one of the most unique, talented, and iconic lyricists to ever grace the drum and bass scene.

"I feel like I've never been so cleared-headed during my whole career of making music. 'Del-Rok-Ski' is me.
DRS

To celebrate the forthcoming release of 'Del-Rok-Ski', DRS is now embarking on 'The Man Who Fell To Earth Tour', which sees him tour the U.K and work with 8 Gold Rings, Dom Lawson, and Dogger to curate a deeply personal Live Show that'll see appearances from numerous special guests up and down the country.

Trauma and tragedy transfer from one generation to the next. As difficult as it may be, we still possess the power to break the cycle and start anew. Fit For A King ponder the pain of these cycles and the possibility to end them on their seventh full-length offering, The Hell We Create Solid State. The Texas quintet—Ryan Kirby [vocals], Bobby Lynge [guitar], Daniel Gailey [guitar], Ryan “Tuck” O’Leary [bass], and Trey Celaya [drums]—explore this ebb and flow with a deft, yet delicate balance of sharp metallic intensity and soaring melodic energy. Drawing on real-life experiences, the band members collectively rallied around Ryan and his family as they endured seemingly unending turbulence… “The album is a reflection of the events that happened throughout the pandemic,” recalls Ryan. “In short, my wife and I adopted children and had to homeschool them. She almost died from a stroke. The Hell We Create is by far the deepest and most personal record we’ve ever written.” “Falling Through the Sky" represents the mental struggles I had dealt with during the pandemic, and how little my upbringing prepared me to deal with it. Between adopting two children, my wife having constant health issues, and me losing almost 70% of my income, I was an absolute wreck. I thought my religious upbringing and faith would be enough to help me when adversity struck, but when the tidal wave came, I struggled immensely. So many think just having faith is enough to pull you through anything life throws at you, but the reality is, it makes a lot of us complacent in our personal growth.