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Al Jarreau hat immer gesagt, dass er Al Jarreau-Musik singt, und er war wirklich einzigartig: Seine sechs Grammy-Awards und neunzehn Nominierungen als "Bester Sänger" decken nicht weniger als drei Kategorien ab – Jazz, Pop und R&B – mit anderen Worten, musikalische Genres interessierten ihn nicht wirklich. "Musik mag für andere Leute in Kategorien fallen, und ich verstehe das", sagte er, "aber für mich gilt: Wenn ich einen Song mag, muss ich ihn machen, und das war's. Wenn du zu meinen Konzerten kommst, setze ich mich auf deine Schulter und flüstere dir etwas ins Ohr. Ich öffne den Geist und gehe durch viele Türen." Diese Art von reichhaltigen, beschreibenden Bildern beschwört die Höhenflüge der stimmlichen Fantasie herauf, zu denen sein Gesang jederzeit fähig war. Er konnte einen Song plötzlich in neue und unerwartete Richtungen lenken. Er erklärte es immer so: "Wenn es ein Rückgrat für das gibt, was ich tue, dann ist es die Jazz-Umgangssprache."

Musik, Klänge und Rhythmus schienen ihn zu durchströmen, und das war kein Wunder. 1940 in eine musikalische Familie geboren, war er ein überdurchschnittlicher Student und schloss sein Studium mit einem Bachelor of Science in Psychologie und anschließend einem Master in beruflicher Rehabilitation ab. Und doch war die Musik nie weit von ihm entfernt. In den späten 1960er Jahren schloss er sich einem Trio an, das vom Pianisten George Duke geleitet wurde, und arbeitete daran, das Singen zu einer Vollzeitbeschäftigung in Los Angeles zu machen.

Zu diesem Zeitpunkt hörte ihn Siggi Loch, der damals ein hochkarätiger Manager bei Warner Brothers Records (WEA) war und später ACT Records gründete. "Ich sah Al Jarreau 1974 zum ersten Mal im Troubadour in Los Angeles und war sofort von seiner Stimme und seiner Bühnenpräsenz gefesselt", erinnert er sich. "Am nächsten Tag ging ich zu Mo Ostin, dem Präsidenten der WEA, um ihn davon zu überzeugen, ihn zu unterschreiben." Nach anfänglichen Widerständen erhielt Loch grünes Licht und 1975 erschien Jarreaus Debütalbum für WEA, "We Got By". "Ich habe Al nach Deutschland gebracht, bevor er in den USA Erfolg hatte", fährt Loch fort. "Al trat drei Nächte lang in Hamburg auf und ich schaffte es, Michael Naura, den Chef der Jazzabteilung des NDR, davon zu überzeugen, den dritten Abend für die Live-TV-Übertragung aufzunehmen." Diese Show machte Al über Nacht in Deutschland berühmt, und seitdem hat er immer einen besonderen Platz in den Herzen des deutschen Publikums. "We Got By" gewann den Preis der Deutschen Schallplattenkritik und seine erste Deutschlandtournee füllte große Konzertsäle.

Es folgte "Glow" (1976), das in Europa erneut gut ankam und einen zweiten Preis der Deutschen Schallplattenkritik gewann, in den USA aber nicht so gut ankam: "Das richtete sich an ein 'Smooth Jazz'-Publikum", so Loch. "Es hat Al nicht vor einem Live-Publikum eingefangen. Also bat ich darum, dass seine nächste Veröffentlichung ein Live-Album sein sollte. Mo Ostin stimmte widerwillig zu", und "Look to the Rainbow" wurde in Europa ein Riesenerfolg, "Als es in den USA veröffentlicht wurde, wurde es Al's Durchbruchsalbum und brachte ihm seinen ersten Grammy ein, also ist es wirklich richtig zu sagen, dass seine Karriere vor allem in Deutschland begann!", sagt Loch.

Jarreaus langjährige Zusammenarbeit mit dem NDR veranlasste Jörg Achim Keller, Chefdirigent der NDR Bigband, 2016 eine Zusammenarbeit mit dem Sänger vorzuschlagen: "Eine Produktion mit der Musik von Al und Ellington zu machen, war etwas, was ich schon seit Anfang der 2000er Jahre machen wollte", erinnert er sich. "Die Reaktion von Al war von Anfang an sehr positiv." Jörg bereitete eine Liste von einigen hundert Ellington-Titeln vor, und wie sich Jarreau später erinnerte: "Wir gingen einfach die Liste durch, und es war ein Fall von 'Oh, der funktioniert für mich' und 'Lass uns das als alten Darm-Blues machen – was für mich wichtig war, war, mich in der Musik wiederzufinden und vielleicht eine andere Art von Aussage über Ellington zu machen, damit die Leute die Musik auf eine andere Art und Weise hören konnten. alles, was sie vorher gehört hatten."

Beim Schreiben der Charts achtete Jörg darauf, Jarreaus Herangehensweise an das Material zu respektieren, indem er ihm Raum ließ. Tracks wie "I'm Beginning to See the Light" oder "I Got It Bad (and that Ain't Good)" geben den Solisten der Band ebenfalls Spielraum, um ihr Bestes zu geben. "Das sind hochentwickelte, intelligente Solisten, die mit jedem auf der Welt spielen können", sagte Jarreau. "Sie pushen mich, und ich liebe den Push, und sie lassen mich wie eine echte Sängerin klingen!"

Jarreau und die Band tourten in der zweiten Hälfte des Jahres 2016 mit der Musik, "Es gab immer noch einige Feinabstimmungen während der Tour, von Konzert zu Konzert", fügte Jörg mit einem Lächeln hinzu. "Er liebte es, diese Balladen zu singen – und jede hatte ein anderes Gefühl. "Am Sonntag" war ihm aber sehr wichtig. Diese Tabelle wurde zweimal überarbeitet, bevor er schließlich damit zufrieden war! Bei einigen Songs entschied er sich für einen reinen Balladenstil – 'I Got It Bad (and that Ain't Good)', einige Melodien wurden in eine Pop/R&B-Tasche gesteckt ('Lush Life', 'Come Sunday') und er liebte das 'Old Gutbucket Blues'-Feeling von 'I Ain't Got Nothing but the Blues'."

Rückblickend auf diese Sessions und Tour sagt Jörg: "Es waren Al's Stil und Persönlichkeit, die alles zusammenhielten. Das Ganze war eine echte Kombination aus der musikalischen Meisterschaft von Jarreau und Ellington – es hat das Publikum in ganz Europa angesprochen, sie liebten das Programm." Dieses Gefühl teilt auch Siggi Loch, der Jarreau mit der NDR Bigband in Paris erwischte: "Es war offensichtlich, dass er es wirklich genoss, diese Musik aufzuführen, und er tat es mit so viel Energie und Emotion, es war eine Freude zu sehen und zu hören. Leider verstarb Al nur wenige Monate später."

In vielerlei Hinsicht schließt sich mit "Ellington" ein Kreis: Es fühlt sich sehr richtig an, dass Jarreaus letztes Album auf ACT veröffentlicht wird, dem Label, das von Siggi Loch gegründet wurde, dessen starkes und unerschütterliches Eintreten für den Sänger ihn ursprünglich auf den Weg zum Superstar brachte. Und die Tatsache, dass es vom NDR und seiner hauseigenen Bigband aufgezeichnet wurde, ist eine passende Erinnerung daran, dass es sich um eben jenen Sender handelte, dessen TV-Sendung Jarreau einst über Nacht in Deutschland berühmt gemacht hatte. Darüber hinaus wurde "Ellington", genau wie "Look to the Rainbow", das Jarreaus internationales Durchbruchsalbum war, auch live aufgenommen. Manchmal gibt es Verbindungsfäden zwischen Ereignissen, die auf den ersten Blick in keinem Zusammenhang zu stehen scheinen, und das Ergebnis erweist sich nicht nur als besonders und magisch, sondern auch bedeutungsvoll und tief berührend. Das ist hier auf jeden Fall der Fall.



Stuart Nicholson, Musikjournalist und Autor

2024 Repress

A Colourful Storm's reissue project of Blueboy's Sarah Records albums culminates with Unisex, arguably the finest moment of the trio of Keith Girdler, Paul Stewart and Gemma Townley and a bona fide indie-pop classic. The first vinyl issue since 1994, the album has gained an immense cult following in all corners of the world and stands as an almost forgotten pinnacle of pop songwriting. "I just want to kiss you in new places, to savour the joy of living, liking you..."

Auf ihrem zwölften Album mit dem treffenden Titel 'Revolution', ihrem ersten Independent-Album überhaupt, versammeln Skillet zehn aufrührerische, ansteckende und unnachahmliche Hymnen. John Cooper Leadgesang, Bass, Korey Cooper [Gitarre, Keys], Jen Ledger [Schlagzeug, Gesang] und Seth Morrison [Leadgitarre] servieren ihren unverkennbaren, arena-erschütternden Rock, getragen von hochfliegenden Gitarrensoli, knallharten Riffs, cineastischen Streichern und einigen der eingängigsten und überzeugendsten Refrains ihrer bisherigen Karriere. Von der augenzwinkernden, mitreißenden ersten Single 'Unpopular' über die unvorhersehbare und unbestreitbare Dynamik von 'Ash In The Wind' und den mitreißenden Klargesang von 'Not Afraid' bis hin zum mitreißenden Opener 'Show Time' und der zärtlichen Ballade 'Happy Wedding Day (Alex's Song)': Skillet sind wieder da, mit neuer Energie und bereit für eine Revolution.

Bis heute wurde die Band zweimal für den GRAMMY® Award nominiert, erhielt einen Billboard Music Award und platzierte sich mit drei Alben in den Top 5 der Billboard 200. Mit weltweit über 22 Millionen verkauften Einheiten wurden 12 Singles und vier Alben mehrfach mit Platin, Platin oder Gold der RIAA ausgezeichnet. Dazu kommen monatlich 10 Millionen Hörer auf Spotify und mit dem fünffach mit Platin ausgezeichneten 'Monster' einer der meistgestreamten Rocksongs aller Zeiten.

Camelot, the legendary seat of King Arthur's court in Early Middle Ages Britain, was probably not a real place. A corruption of the name of a real Romano-Briton city, the word "Camelot" accumulated symbolic, mythic resonances over centuries, until achieving its present usage as a near-synonym of "utopia." In the mid-20th century alone, Camelot inspired an explosion of representations and appropriations, among them the violent, affectless Arthurian court of Robert Bresson's 1974 film Lancelot du Lac and the absurdist iteration of Monty Python's 1975 Holy Grail, both of which feature armored knights erupting into fountains of blood; the mystical Welsh world of novelist John Cowper Powys's profoundly weird 1951 novel Porius, with its Roman cults, wizards and witches, and wanton giants; and the nationalist nostalgia of President John F. Kennedy's White House. Unsurprisingly there are fewer Camelots in more recent memory. Camelot, Canadian songwriter Jennifer Castle's extraordinary, moving 2024 chronicle of the artist in early middle age, charts a realer, more rooted, and more metaphorical place than the fabled Camelot of the Early Middle Ages (or its myriad depictions), but it too is a space more psychic than physical. In Castle's Camelot, the fantastic interpenetrates the mundane, and the Grail, if there is one, distills everyday experience into art and art into faith, subliming terrestrial concerns into sublime celestial prayers to Mother Nature, and to the unfolding process of perfecting imperfection in one's own nature. Co-produced by Jennifer and longtime collaborator Jeff McMurrich, her seventh record is at once her most monumental and unguarded to date, demonstrating a mastery of rendering her verse and melodies alike with crisply poignant economy. For all their pointedly plainspoken lyrical detail and exhilarating full-band musical flourishes, these songs sound inevitable, eternal as morning devotions. "Back in Camelot," she sings on the lilting, vulnerable title track, "I really learned a lot / circles in the crops and / sky-high geometry." The album opens with a candid admission of sleeping "in the unfinished basement," an embarrassing joke that comes true. But the dreamer is redeemed by dreaming, setting sail in her airborne bed above "sirens and desert deities." If she questions her own agency_whether she is "wishing stones were standing" or just "pissing in the wind"_it does not diminish the ineffable existential jolt of such signs and wonders. This abiding tension between belief and doubt, magic and pragmatism, self and other, sacred and profane, and even, arguably, paganism and monotheism, suffuses these ten songs, which limn an interior landscape shot through with sunstriped shadows of "multi-felt dimensions" both mystical and quotidian. The epic scale and transport of "Camelot," with its swooning strings, gives way dramatically to "Some Friends," an acoustic-guitar-and-vocals meditation in miniature on Janus-faced friends and the lunar and solar temperatures of their promises_"bright and beaming verses" versus hot curses_which recalls her minimalist last album, 2020's achingly intimate Monarch Season. (In a symmetrical sequencing gesture, the penultimate track, the incantatory "Earthsong," bookends the central six with a similarly spare solo performance and coiled chord progression, this time an ambiguous appeal to _ a wounded lover? a wounded saint? our wounded planet?) Those whom "Trust" accuses of treacherous oaths spit through "gilded and golden tooth"_cynics, critics, hypocrites, gurus, scientists, doctors, lovers, government, the so-called entertainment industry_sow uncertainty that can infect the artist, as in "Louis": "What's that dance / and can it be done? What's that song / and can it be sung?" Answering affirmatively are "Lucky #8," an irrepressible ode to dancing as a bulwark against the "tidal pools of pain" and the "theory of collapse," and "Full Moon in Leo," which finds the narrator dancing around the house with a broom, wearing nothing but her underwear and "big hair." But the central question remains: who can we trust, and at what cost faith, in art or angels or otherwise? Castle's confidence in her collaborators is the cornerstone of Camelot. Carl Didur (piano and keys), Evan Cartwright (drums and percussion), and steadfast sideman Mike Smith (bass) comprise a rhythm section of exquisite delicacy and depth. This fundamental trio anchors the airiness of regular backing vocalists Victoria Cheong and Isla Craig and frames the guitars of Castle, McMurrich, and Paul Mortimer (and on "Lucky #8," special guest Cass McCombs). Reprising his decennial role on Castle's beloved 2014 Pink City, Owen Pallett arranged the strings for Estonia's FAMES Skopje Studio Orchestra. On the ravishing country-soul ballad "Blowing Kisses"_Pallett's crowning achievement here, which can be heard in its entirety in the penultimate episode of the third season of FX's The Bear_Jennifer contemplates time and presence, love and prayer_and how songwriting and poetry both manifest and limit all four dimensions: "No words to fumble with / I'm not a beggar to language any longer." Such rare moments of speechlessness_"I'm so fucking honoured," she bluntly proclaims_suggest a state "only a god could come up with." (If Camelot affirms Castle as one of the great song-poets of her generation, she is not immune to the despairing linguistic beggary that plagues all writers.) Camelot evinces a thoroughgoing faith not only in the natural world_including human bodies, which can, miraculously, dance and swim and bleed and embrace and birth_but also in our interpretations of and interventions in it: the "charts and diagrams" of "Lucky #8," a daydreamt billboard on Fairfax Ave. in LA in "Full Moon in Leo," the bloody invocations of the organ-stained "Mary Miracle," and all manner of water worship, rivers in particular. (Notably, Jennifer has worked as a farmer and a doula.) The album ends with "Fractal Canyon"'s repeated, exalted insistence that she's "not alone here." But where is here? The word "utopia" itself constitutes a pun, indicating in its ambiguous first syllable both the Greek "eutopia," or "good-place"_the facet most remembered today_and "outopia," or "no-place," a negative, impossible geography of the mind. Utopia, like its metonym Camelot, is imaginary. Or as fellow Canadian songwriter Neil Young once sang, "Everyone knows this is nowhere." "Can you see how I'd be tempted," Castle asks out of nowhere, held in the mystery, "to pretend I'm not alone and let the memory bend?"

Michael Mayer albums don’t come round too often, which is one of many reasons why his fourth collection, The Floor Is Lava, is a genuine event. It’s been eight years since his last one, the collaborative & released on !K7; its predecessors, Mantasy (2012) and Touch (2004), took their sweet time, too. It’s no real surprise, given the many hats Mayer wears – globetrotting DJ, revered remixer, inveterate collaborator, and boss of both Kompakt and Imara – that his solo productions are relatively sparing. But this also speaks to their quality: Mayer’s name on a record sleeve is a sign of quality, of music that’s both looking to the future and calling back to the past, that balances the imperatives of the dancefloor and the loungeroom, that’s as exploratory as it is functional.

On The Floor Is Lava, Mayer seems to be taking the temperature of both the music that surrounds him (past and present), and the ides of the industry he works within. There’s that iconic album title, for a start. “The album’s mindset,” he says, reflecting on those four words together. For Mayer, it’s partly a critique of the way the industry boxes in both producer and listener, focuses them on genre, on market, on the next new thing: “Being a free minded spirit that transcends genres has become an uphill battle.” A battle worth fighting, though, and with The Floor Is Lava, the result is an album that’s varied, quixotic, idiosyncratic, charming, and deeply, addictively listenable.

Throughout, Mayer finds thrills in exploration and juxtaposition, allowing unexpected things to blossom and giving them their life, their platform, throwing the listener exciting curveballs: “It’s a DJ album by a DJ that’s easily bored.” Either easily bored, or endlessly curious, The Floor Is Lava is rich with ideas. It opens with “The Problem”, which looks back to look forward, embracing the rickety way early house productions threw samples together with gleeful abandon. Mayer mentions Pal Joey, and the scene around Rockers Hi-Fi and their Different Drummer imprint, as reference points, and you can hear that freewheeling spirit throughout.

It’s followed by “Vagus”, a slinky, sensual minimal house number that Mayer describes as his “musical catnip”. The flow of these two opening cuts defines the dynamic of The Floor Is Lava, defining the dialectical drive at its core: thesis and antithesis leads to synthesis, but with a welcome prickliness that means you’re always excited, always engaged. It’s also productive in the way it derives energy from rubbing genres and sounds against each other, in unexpected ways, for maximum musical frisson. There’s psychedelic techno on “Feuerstuhl”, more minimal techno with “Ardor” (Mayer mentions ‘Immer 1’ era 90s minimal as inspiration), slippery, Shepard-tone breakbeat through “Sycophant”, a lovely, lush vocal turn on the poppy “The Solution”.

The album closes with the melancholy “Süßer Schlaf”, where Mayer sets a poem by Goethe to one of his most haunted, moving pieces of music yet, in abstract tribute to a lost friend. It’s one of the most affecting moments on The Floor Is Lava. There’s also an update on 2020’s wild Brainwave Technology EP, with the surrealist glitter-stomp of “Brainwave 2.0” (check out those handclaps!),where Mayer’s thinking about the socio-political precipice of the now: “I’m reading with great interest about this whole complex of how humanity is about to cross so many lines and the implications that the resulting financial and educational inequality will bring.”

That’s The Floor Is Lava: then and now, brainwaves and nerve structures, problems and solutions, genres on fire; the real, the unreal, and the surreal. An album for the easily bored and the endlessly curious. Mayer has the last word, telling us all you need to know about the album’s spirit: “Burning for the cause, being zealous, being addicted to the heat of the night, the exuberant powers of music.”

Michael Mayer veröffentlicht nicht oft Alben, was einer von vielen Gründen ist, warum ‘The Floor Is Lava’ ein echtes Ereignis ist. Es sind acht Jahre vergangen seit seinem letzten Werk, dem Kollaborationsalbum &, das auf !K7 erschien; seine Vorgänger, Mantasy (2012) und Touch (2004), ließen ebenfalls auf sich warten. Es überrascht nicht wirklich, da Mayer viele Rollen gleichzeitig erfüllt – weltreisender DJ, vielbeschäftigter Remixer, unermüdlicher Kollaborateur und Chef von sowohl Kompakt als auch Imara – weshalb seine Solo-Produktionen eher sparsam ausfallen. Doch das spricht auch für deren Qualität: Ein Album mit Mayers Namen auf dem Cover steht für Qualität, für Musik, die sowohl in die Zukunft blickt als auch auf die Vergangenheit verweist, die das Gleichgewicht zwischen den Anforderungen des Dancefloors und des Wohnzimmers hält, die genauso erforschend wie funktional ist.

Auf The Floor Is Lava scheint Mayer sowohl die Musik um ihn herum (vergangen und gegenwärtig) als auch die Strömungen der Branche, in der er arbeitet, zu reflektieren. Da wäre zunächst der ikonische Albumtitel. „Die Grundhaltung des Albums“, sagt er, drückt sich in diesen vier Worte aus. Für Mayer ist es teilweise eine Kritik daran, wie die Industrie sowohl Produzenten als auch Hörer in Schubladen steckt, sie auf Genres, auf den Markt und auf das nächste große Ding fokussiert: „Ein freier Geist zu sein, der Genres überschreitet, ist zu einem steinigen Weg geworden.“ Ein Kampf, der sich jedoch lohnt, und mit The Floor Is Lava ist das Ergebnis ein Album, das vielfältig, eigenwillig, charmant und tiefsinnig, aber auch süchtig machend ist.

Im gesamten Album findet Mayer Freude an der Erforschung und Gegenüberstellung von Stilen, lässt unerwartete Dinge erblühen und gibt ihnen Raum, überrascht den Hörer mit spannenden Wendungen: „Es ist ein DJ-Album von einem DJ, der sich schnell langweilt.“ Entweder langweilt er sich schnell oder er ist unendlich neugierig – The Floor Is Lava ist reich an Ideen. Es beginnt mit „The Problem“, das in die Vergangenheit blickt, um nach vorne zu schauen, und die wilde Art, wie frühe House-Produktionen Samples mit fröhlicher Unbekümmertheit zusammenwarfen, aufgreift. Mayer nennt Pal Joey und die Szene um Rockers Hi-Fi und ihr Label Different Drummer als Referenzpunkte, und dieser freie Geist zieht sich durch das gesamte Album.

Es folgt „Vagus“, eine sinnliche Minimal-House-Nummer, die Mayer als seine „musikalische Katzenminze“ beschreibt. Der Fluss dieser beiden Eröffnungstracks definiert die Dynamik von The Floor Is Lava und den dialektischen Antrieb im Kern: These und Antithese führen zu einer Synthese, jedoch mit einer willkommenen Schärfe, die dafür sorgt, dass man immer aufgeregt und engagiert bleibt. Zudem gewinnt das Album Energie, indem es Genres und Klänge auf unerwartete Weise aneinanderreibt, um maximalen musikalischen Nervenkitzel zu erzeugen. Es gibt psychedelischen Techno in „Feuerstuhl“, mehr Minimal Techno mit „Ardor“ (Mayer erwähnt ‘Immer’ Ära Minimal als Bezugspunkt), gleitenden Shepard-Ton-Breakbeat in „Sycophant“ und einen lieblichen, üppigen Vocal-Auftritt im poppigen „The Solution“.

Das Album schließt mit dem melancholischen „Süßer Schlaf“, in dem Mayer ein Gedicht von Goethe vertont und eine seiner bisher eindringlichsten und bewegendsten musikalischen Kompositionen schafft, als abstrakten Tribut an eine verschiedene Freundin. Es ist einer der ergreifendsten Momente auf The Floor Is Lava. Ebenfalls gibt es ein Update der wilden Brainwave Technology-EP von 2020, mit dem surrealistischen Glitzer-Stampfer „Brainwave 2.0“ (hör dir diese Handclaps an!), in dem Mayer über den sozio-politischen Abgrund der Gegenwart nachdenkt: „Ich lese mit großem Interesse über diesen ganzen Komplex, wie die Menschheit dabei ist, so viele Grenzen zu überschreiten und welche Auswirkungen die daraus resultierende finanzielle und bildungstechnische Ungleichheit haben wird.“

Das ist The Floor Is Lava: Damals und heute, Gehirnwellen und Nervengeflechte, Probleme und Lösungen, brennende Genres; das Reale, das Unreale und das Surreale. Ein Album für die schnell Gelangweilten und die unendlich Neugierigen. Mayer hat das letzte Wort und sagt uns alles, was wir über den Geist des Albums wissen müssen: „Brennen für die Sache, leidenschaftlich sein, süchtig nach der Hitze der Nacht, den überschwänglichen Kräften der Musik.“

The 2015 edition of Winnipeg’s send + receive festival, focussed on rhythm, turned out to be a generative meeting of minds. There, Mark Fell encountered the music of Will Guthrie, a meeting that was eventually to result in the frenetic acoustic drumkit and digital synthesis pairing heard on Infoldings and Diffractions (2020). At the same festival, Limpe Fuchs first heard and appreciated the music of Mark Fell, planting the seed of a collaboration that came to fruition when Fell (along with his son Rian Treanor) visited Fuchs at her home in Peterskirchen, Germany in September 2022. Black Truffle is pleased to announce the release of the results of this extensive session in the audacious form of a triple LP, housing over two hours of music across its six sides. The collaboration might appear unlikely: what common ground could exist between Fuchs, classically trained pianist, legend of improvised music, instrument builder and sound sculptor active since the 1960s, whose group Anima Sound connected the dots between free jazz, krautrock and ritual, and Fell, proponent of radical computer music, known for his bracingly austere productions that twist remnants of club music into algorithmic stutters? For all their seeming disparity in technology, approach and background, the music on Dessogia/Queetch/Fauch makes it immediately evident the pair share a great deal in their essentially percussive approach and ability to, in Fuch’s phrase, ‘establish silence’. Recording at her home studio, Fuchs had the use of her entire array of instruments, found, invented, and traditional, and treats the listener to some that don’t often make their way to concerts, including extensive passages performed (with Gundis Stalleicher) on pieces of wooden parquetry. Alongside metallic, wooden and skin percussion of all kinds, sounded and struck in every conceivable way, we also hear bamboo flute, viola, and Fuchs’ distinctive free-form vocalisations. Fell also stretched himself, with his contributions ranging from characteristically fizzing pitched percussive pops to swarms of sliding tones and abstract digital noise. Showing both remarkable restraint and improvisational freedom, much of the music consists of duets between a single percussion instrument and a distinctive mode of digital sound, often lingering in one timbral-rhythmic space for minutes at a time. Improvisational forward momentum coexists with a free-floating, wandering quality. On opener ‘Dessogia I’, the shimmering almost-gilssandi tones of Fuchs’ enormous set of microtonally tuned metal tubes ripples across Fell’s rubbery pulse, which moves up the frequency spectrum as Fuchs becomes more animated and switches to horn. At some points, as on the metallic chiming tones that open ‘Fauch I’, only the unexpected dynamic behaviour of Fell’s sounds distinguish them from Fuchs’ acoustic instruments. At others, like on ‘Queetch III’, the waves of sliding tones and noise textures are bracingly synthetic, joined by piercing squeaks and scrapes from Fuchs’ metal objects. Epic in scope, immersing the listener in an entirely distinctive world of sounds, and thrillingly bold in its melding of the most ancient musical procedures with cutting edge technologies, Dessogia/Queetch/Fauch is an unexpected major statement from two of the great mavericks of contemporary music.

Having spent the last 10 years tinkering with his songwriting through his extensive catalog with folk/rock group Mapache, as well as his debut solo album ‘Off My Stars’, Sam works alongside co-producer Johnny Payne for his follow up sophomore solo album ‘Real Life Thing’ via Calico Discos.

Sam was born in Los Angeles in November 1994 and currently lives in Ojai, CA. Having had residence in Los Angeles, CA / Coahuila, MX / Orem, UT & New Orleans, LA - it’s safe to assume Sam will be on the move again soon and with more fresh energy to give of himself through his art. Determined to live by creation, Sam is the type of artist that is always creating something, maintaining a sort of inexhaustible hunger to make his music. Expressing himself through sound has now gone beyond joy and into being second nature and Sam’s real first language.

Das klassische Debütalbum von Trouble aus dem Jahr 1984 mit originalgetreu restauriertem Ton repräsentiert alles, was Doom Metal sein sollte! 40th
anniversary Picture-LP edition includes an A2 poster! Das Frühwerk von Trouble und insbesondere "Psalm 9" repräsentiert alles, was Doom Metal sein
sollte (aber so oft nicht ist). Man bedenke, dass es sich hier um eine Band handelt, die wirklich sehr vielfältig ist, was Tempo, Arrangements und
Stimmung angeht, und die sich nicht scheut, mit dem zu brechen, was von einer Doom-Band üblicherweise erwartet wird. Für 1984 ist dies eine
unglaublich zeitgemäße Platte; sie ist Doom durch und durch, aber auch thrashig und mit einigen, für die damalige Zeit, modernen Heavy
Metal-Anleihen versehen. Im Grunde gibt es nichts Rückschrittliches oder Abgedroschenes an dieser Platte. Ehrlich gesagt, es ist zum Lachen, wenn so
etwas als traditioneller Doom Metal" bezeichnet wird; was ist daran traditionell? Bands wie Trouble und Candlemass bewegten sich nicht in einer
etablierten Tradition, sondern schmiedeten ihren eigenen Sound.Zu oft hört man Doom-Bands, die den Metal aus dem Doom herausnehmen. Doom
scheint heutzutage oft ein Synonym für "spiel langsam, minimiere deine metallischen Anleihen" zu sein. Natürlich erhört "Psalm 9" die Gebete, denn
es gibt Leadgitarren und schnelle Parts in Hülle und Fülle. Der Kontrast ist der Schlüssel zum Erfolg, und jedes stampfende, niedergeschlagene Riff
wird durch einen schnellen Break ausgeglichen. Trouble lieben es, langsam zu spielen, aber verdammt, sie werden dir auch das Gesicht abreißen!

. For Fans Of: The Weather Station, Weyes Blood, Adrianne Lenker, Phoebe Bridgers, Joan Shelley, Lana Del Rey, Cass McCombs, Angel Olsen & Neil Young. Camelot, the legendary seat of King Arthur’s court in Early Middle Ages Britain, was probably not a real place. A corruption of the name of a real Romano-Briton city, the word “Camelot” accumulated symbolic, mythic resonances over centuries, until achieving its present usage as a near-synonym of “utopia.” In the mid-20th century alone, Camelot inspired an explosion of representations and appropriations, among them the violent, affectless Arthurian court of Robert Bresson’s 1974 film Lancelot du Lac and the absurdist iteration of Monty Python’s 1975 Holy Grail, both of which feature armoured knights erupting into fountains of blood; the mystical Welsh world of novelist John Cowper Powys’s profoundly weird 1951 novel Porius, with its Roman cults, wizards and witches, and wanton giants; and the nationalist nostalgia of President John F. Kennedy’s White House. Unsurprisingly there are fewer Camelots in more recent memory. Camelot, Canadian songwriter Jennifer Castle’s extraordinary, moving 2024 chronicle of the artist in early middle age, charts a realer, more rooted, and more metaphorical place than the fabled Camelot of the Early Middle Ages (or its myriad depictions), but it too is a space more psychic than physical. In Castle’s Camelot, the fantastic interpenetrates the mundane, and the Grail, if there is one, distills everyday experience into art and art into faith, subliming terrestrial concerns into sublime celestial prayers to Mother Nature, and to the unfolding process of perfecting imperfection in one’s own nature. Co-produced by Jennifer and longtime collaborator Jeff McMurrich, her seventh record is at once her most monumental and unguarded to date, demonstrating a mastery of rendering her verse and melodies alike with crisply poignant economy. For all their pointedly plainspoken lyrical detail and exhilarating full-band musical flourishes, these songs sound inevitable, eternal as morning devotions. “Back in Camelot,” she sings on the lilting, vulnerable title track, “I really learned a lot / circles in the crops and / sky-high geometry.” The album opens with a candid admission of sleeping “in the unfinished basement,” an embarrassing joke that comes true. But the dreamer is redeemed by dreaming, setting sail in her airborne bed above “sirens and desert deities.” If she questions her own agency whether she is “wishing stones were standing” or just “pissing in the wind” it does not diminish the ineffable existential jolt of such signs and wonders. This abiding tension between belief and doubt, magic and pragmatism, self and other, sacred and profane, and even, arguably, paganism and monotheism, suffuses these ten songs, which limn an interior landscape shot through with sunstriped shadows of “multi-felt dimensions” both mystical and quotidian. The epic scale and transport of “Camelot,” with its swooning strings, gives way dramatically to “Some Friends,” an acoustic-guitar-and-vocals meditation in miniature on Janus-faced friends and the lunar and solar temperatures of their promises—“bright and beaming verses” versus hot curses which recalls her minimalist last album, 2020’s achingly intimate Monarch Season. (In a symmetrical sequencing gesture, the penultimate track, the incantatory “Earthsong,” bookends the central six with a similarly spare solo performance and coiled chord progression, this time an ambiguous appeal to … a wounded lover? a wounded saint? our wounded planet?). Those whom “Trust” accuses of treacherous oaths spit through “gilded and golden tooth” cynics, critics, hypocrites, gurus, scientists, doctors, lovers, government, the so-called entertainment industry sow uncertainty that can infect the artist, as in “Louis”: “What’s that dance / and can it be done? What’s that song / and can it be sung?” Answering affirmatively are “Lucky #8,” an irrepressible ode to dancing as a bulwark against the “tidal pools of pain” and the “theory of collapse,” and “Full Moon in Leo,” which finds the narrator dancing around the house with a broom, wearing nothing but her underwear and “big hair.” But the central question remains: who can we trust, and at what cost faith, in art or angels or otherwise? Castle’s confidence in her collaborators is the cornerstone of Camelot. Carl Didur (piano and keys), Evan Cartwright (drums and percussion), and steadfast sideman Mike Smith (bass) comprise a rhythm section of exquisite delicacy and depth. This fundamental trio anchors the airiness of regular backing vocalists Victoria Cheong and Isla Craig and frames the guitars of Castle, McMurrich, and Paul Mortimer (and on “Lucky #8,” special guest Cass McCombs). Reprising his decennial role on Castle’s beloved 2014 Pink City, Owen Pallett arranged the strings for Estonia’s FAMES Skopje Studio Orchestra. On the ravishing country-soul ballad “Blowing Kisses” Pallett’s crowning achievement here, which can be heard in its entirety in the penultimate episode of the third season of FX’s The Bear Jennifer contemplates time and presence, love and prayer and how songwriting and poetry both manifest and limit all four dimensions: “No words to fumble with / I’m not a beggar to language any longer.” Such rare moments of speechlessness “I’m so fucking honoured,” she bluntly proclaims suggest a state “only a god could come up with.” (If Camelot affirms Castle as one of the great song-poets of her generation, she is not immune to the despairing linguistic beggary that plagues all writers.) Camelot evinces a thoroughgoing faith not only in the natural world including human bodies, which can, miraculously, dance and swim and bleed and embrace and birth but also in our interpretations of and interventions in it: the “charts and diagrams” of “Lucky #8,” a daydreamt billboard on Fairfax Ave. in LA in “Full Moon in Leo,” the bloody invocations of the organ-stained “Mary Miracle,” and all manner of water worship, rivers in particular. (Notably, Jennifer has worked as a farmer and a doula.) The album ends with “Fractal Canyon”s repeated, exalted insistence that she’s “not alone here.” But where is here? The word “utopia” itself constitutes a pun, indicating in its ambiguous first syllable both the Greek “eutopia,” or “good-place” the facet most remembered today and “outopia,” or “no-place,” a negative, impossible geography of the mind. Utopia, like its metonym Camelot, is imaginary

Alternative Jazz. This is a 5 track EP of brand new, previously unreleased material from The Near Jazz Experience (Terry Edwards, Mark Bedford and Simon Charterton). Whilst recording the new album Terry asked pianist Mike Garson (best known for his work with David Bowie, Nine Inch Nails, Smashing Pumpkins) - whom Terry has toured with if he'd like to play on a track. Mike said yes, recorded a stupendous solo for Character Actor at his home studio and sent it over. All in the space of 24 hours! On hearing the piano part NJE bassist Mark Bedford came up with the idea of having the piano mixed with the original track (as intended) but also using it as the basis for a completely new recording with the piano leading rather than complementing the band. Side 1 of the EP has these two very different versions from the same seed. Unidentical twins indeed. Side 2 of the EP contains 4 outliers from the album sessions. These aren't out-takes or unfinished pieces. They simply couldn't find a place for themselves within the album - along the lines of the tunes Tom Waits put together for his Orphans compilation of 2006. They are standalone tunes which have found a home together on this EP because in some way they all have filmic qualities. Side 1 contains 2 takes on Character Actor (the title being a nod to Cracked Actor, a tune on Aladdin Sane, the album that introduced Bowie fans to Mike Garson), and Side 2 has The Loping Four; Projector; MacGuffin and Lockstep, all titles which contain strong cinematic elements, MacGuffin in particular. It was Alfred Hitchcock's favourite word for a red herring in the plot. The musical cast on this release has a remarkable pedigree. The NJE consists of Terry Edwards (solo artist and session player with PJ Harvey, Franz Ferdinand, Siouxsie, Jimi Tenor, Piroshka, Tindersticks etc); Mark Bedford (Madness, Robert Wyatt, Robyn Hitchcock, Nightingales etc); Simon Charterton (The Higsons, Alex Harvey, Zook, Serious Drinking etc). Alongside featured guest Mike Garson there is an appearance by Oliver Cherer (Aircooled, Miki Berenyi Band) on keys and synth. This is an RSD exclusive, 500 copies on black vinyl in full colour sleeve which reflects the filmic quality of the recorded material. No download. The title track will appear on the next Near Jazz Experience studio album. The 4 additional tracks, however, will remain exclusive to Record Store Day.

2024 Reissue

The syndicate manifests its sonic potential in full glory. Giving rise to this collection of colossal heavyweights, Sentry demonstrates its spotless record of selecting certified heavyweights for the discography once again, twenty-fold. Stepping into the ring are some of the scene's most prolific artists alongside a plethora of promising, choice newcomers.

Boasting more than an hour of supercharged sound system pressure with names like Caspa, Truth, Bukez Finezt, Nomine and Youngsta himself on the controls - the subsequent inferno proves to be an authoritative display of quality bass music, that is sure to reach roaring stacks of speakers all around the globe for years to come."

"Vintage flavours transmute into fiery low-end excursions in 'Sun Ra' as Onhell reigns with fire and brimstone and makes way for what's to come. Rolling on, Taso lays waste with dimly lit half-time flows as we enter the smoke-filled mansion of Argo's meticulously crafted 'Since Then' - a prime cut of hip-hop infused breakbeats and bass.

Abstrakt Sonance & Substance set the heater into overdrive and blunts aflame as we proceed into the shelling of 207's 'Gypsy Dub' - then promptly being crunched to bits by 'Crocodile' - encapsulating Dayzero's cold-blooded dance floor armaments. Brace yourself for battle as we step to the drums of Caspa's tribal warfare, full-frontal assault engineered for the club.

Unrestrained power surges propelling us onwards in Coltcut & Ourman's decidedly high-grade collaboration as listeners march through Khiva's haunting sound system belter 'Teeth' and a zealous dosage of Dubstep as envisioned by Truth. Led through eerie alleys and pressure-ridden environments with LSN on the buttons, the onslaught proceeds with the relentlessly driving 'R U Broke' in Mr. K's signature style.

Opus merciless injects straight fury in an auditory form in the spiked 'Lime Pickle' - Bukez Finezt keeping pace with a murderous Cembalo-ridden thug anthem, lunacy! Minimal instrumentation to its fullest effect, Sukh Knight's 'Modulate' keeps it spicy - as does the claustrophobic sub-bass chiming by Leftlow. Thanom ignites what's left of the residual air in 'Tumble It' - dangerous goods.

The subsequent time bomb armed by A:Grade & Feonix, cast into the abyss that is Nomine's space-bending 'Judas' - big speaker business. The clock strikes its final hour - Youngsta & Cimm finish off the survivors with a no-holds-barred showdown, the 'Last Judgement' executing its massive verdict.

Fresh rhythms. Gorgeous melodies. A powerful yet full touch that pleasantly stirs the emotions of the listener. The origins of the great pianist Masaru Imada are here.

Masaru Imada has been active as a professional since the 1950s and now has a career spanning 70 years. He has been at the forefront of music from hard bop to fusion, and has released over 30 titles as a leader. He is one of Japan's leading pianists in both name and reality. His powerful yet full touch creates a sound that pleasantly stirs the emotions of the listener. His first album, "Maki," can be said to be the origin of this. The performances by the trio or one horn quartet are so fresh and beautiful. The carefully woven "Autumn Leaves," the dynamic "On Green Dolphin Street," the ambitious "Gad," the ballad "Maki" dedicated to his beloved daughter, and the hot and cool "Sea Horse."

From standards to originals, his talent is fully displayed throughout the album. Released as part of the Victor "Japanese Jazz" series, this is an undoubted masterpiece. - Yusuke Ogawa (UNIVERSOUNDS / DEEP JAZZ REALITY)

Trust Fund, hinter dem der britische Singer/Songwriter Ellis Jones steht, kehrt mit einer neuen LP zurück. Das fünfte Album "Has It Been A While?" wurde Anfang des Jahres in Sheffield gemeinsam mit dem Produzenten und engen Freund Joe Mackenzie Todd aufgenommen. Fans von Jones" feinfühligem, geistreichem und nahbarem Songwriting mussten sich für eine ganze Weile gedulden. Sein letztes Album ist vor sechs Jahren erschienen: "Bringing the Backline" erhielt Lob u. a. von Pitchfork, Rolling Stone und The Guardian, doch Trust Fund wurde direkt im Anschluss auf Eis gelegt, da einige Bandmitglieder Familien gründeten und Jones nach Norwegen (und dann nach Kanada) zog, um eine akademische Karriere zu verfolgen. Oder wie er selbst sagt: "Ich wurde 30, zog weg und dachte, dass ich das jetzt wohl bleiben lasse". Erfreulicherweise konnte er es nicht bleiben lassen Die Einsicht, dass es mit dem Musikmachen doch noch nicht vorbei sei kam einher mit der Entwicklung eines gereiften Stils. Während bei frühen Trust-Fund-Alben eine diffuse Indie-Rock-Ästhetik im Vordergrund stand, reduziert Jones seine Songs auf "Has It Been A While?" auf klassische Gitarre und Gesang, unterstützt von ergreifenden Streichquartett-Arrangements von Maria Grig. Geblieben ist die lyrische Finesse von Trust Fund, die sich hier besonders in Tracks wie "The Mirror" (ein Duett mit Celia MacDougall von Radiant Heart) zeigt, in dem der prahlerische Protagonist allzu gern den Spiegel als TV nutzen würde.

Transparent Blue Vinyl. After years of preparation, Marcus Drake emerges from the basement networks of the resistance underground to claim the first save point along his quest ahead. Welcome to Save Point 1, a universe where popular forms of the past collide at warp speed with Marcus's mutant inspirations to produce sounds and genres hitherto unknown. Save Point 1 is a visionary and singular Debut work of Avant Rock & Pop Alchemy, blown apart and reassembled under the laws of Quantum Musical Mechanics. Written, Produced & Performed by Marcus Drake, the album eludes classification, but sounds like a sci-fi fusion of musical DNA from Nine Inch Nails, Prefab Sprout, Nobuo Uematsu (the Final Fantasy video game composer), Animal Collective, Prince, Mr. Bungle, Liars, The Mars Volta, and Lil Ugly Mane. The album marks the first release under Drake's own name, and the latest since his 2017 release as Anthony Fremont's Garden Solutions_his idiosyncratic side-project with Water From Your Eyes' Nate Amos, Options' Seth Engel, and NNAMDI. He has also since scored for film and video, including the Adult Swim short Thoron the Conqueror. Save Point 1 isn't just a new beginning, but a reintroduction to Marcus Drake the artist and composer. Drake experimented with new techniques and approaches for many years while recording Save Point 1, a process that transformed his sound, voice, and artistic identity. The resulting oeuvre is giddy and dreamy, an Olympic-height diving board from which to descend through indie rock and videogame soundtracks, thrilling math-rock riffs that turn experimental, and synths that glow in rainbow hues. Just turn to the glitchpop of "Heaven's in the Rot" or the slow-motion acoustic glitter that is "Dragon It Out" to hear it in motion. And note the two-part "Haunted" suite that funnels his unpredictable experimentation into darker, weirder directions.

"Mrs. Ladyships and the Cleanerhouse Boys" are your new favorite MOD heart throbs. Is there REALLY a new Merseybeat Revolution? How many times can you really REALLY watch The Blow-Up alone in your room? Why don't you venture out the front door and take a bite of the real thing? The Smashing Times are a mainstay in the indie pop underground. The group mistrals the new modern life perfectly, the sharper world. collaged with 12 string guitar and mallet on the floor tom. 14 tracks 33RPM.

Anadol and Marie Klock have teamed up for a joint album, La Grande Accumulation. They met two years ago at a festival in England crowded with violent seagulls and outsider musicians. Klock being prone to barking on stage and Anadol not laughing at jokes she doesn’t find funny, they straight away had the intuition that they would meet again. And so they did, a few months later, at Anadol’s studio in Istanbul.

Today, the two Pingipung artists present the fruit of this musical friendship. La Grande Accumulation was born out of the peculiar atmosphere of the studio neighbourhood in Büyükada, an island where thousands of cats run free and humans randomly destroy things during apocalyptic times when parts of Turkey had just been turned into dust by terrible earthquakes. The French lyrics are inspired by hours of conversations, the music is consequently drenched in absurdity, overflowing with a strong urge to live and enjoy. According to the LP sticker, this album has been certified “Best handshake of 2024”, and stickers never lie.

La Grande Accumulation brings together Marie Klock's mysterious metaphors and Anadol's intriguing radiophonic psych-pop. Stretching forms beyond common sense to see how long they can resist is probably their favourite game. The result are six highly imaginative tracks that challenge the sub-3-minutes standards of Spotify pop.

Gözen Atila aka Anadol is well known to the Pingipung audience, with three solo LPs on the label. Her music follows a kind of collage logic, she interweaves countless styles, combining field and studio recordings with obscure quotation marks here and there. "I hope no one will come and explain this music to me, because it's the most beautiful music there is", says Kristoffer Cornils about her solo album Felicita.

Marie Klock is a French writer and musician who produces songs oscillating between synthpop and neo-folk, full of anarchic humour and existential dread. Her recent solo LP on Pingipung was a captivating tribute to the recently deceased poet Damien Schultz entitled Damien est vivant.

Marie Klock delivers her lyrics in song or spoken word, stream-of-consciousness musings on strange human adventures, and her rich keyboard melodies culminate in a nonchalant dialogue with the bass trombone (La Reine des Bordels). In the opulent opening piece (La Grande Accumulation), a woman is cursed to take home everything she kicks in the street; a bit later, we stumble upon a ghoul hiding in the gutter (Sirop amer), Mona Lisa loses her teeth (Sonate au Jambon) and a warthog struggles to climb the stairs of a silver tower (Sabots triviaux).

La Grande Accumulation was mixed and mastered by Jonas Romann at Chaos Compressor Club in Hamburg and cut to vinyl by Kassian Troyer at D&M in Berlin. It's an audiophile LP that invites to focus on every detail in this heap of musical ideas.

LOOSE CATTLE, the five-piece roots rock outfit declared "favorite Americana cowpunks in New Orleans" by OffBeat Magazine. work to make music that matters, aligning themselves with, and advocating for, people at the margins of our society. In the band's mind, if "Americana" is to mean anything, it should mean inclusion and a diverse music scene populated by the people the American Dream crushed. The misfits and outcasts are who they sing for, and choose to dance with. On "Someone's Monster", two-time TONY and GRAMMY Award winner Michael Cerveris turns up the volume and the urgency.

Finally back on vinyl, this 2011 release was the first proper full-length showcase for the Grammy Award-winning superproducer. The signature soulful style of 9th’s beats was a sensation in hip hop and R&B--for underground fans and in the mainstream--and he played a leading role in bringing North Carolina to the forefront of American music culture in the 21st century.

With his Premise EP, Felix Fleer unites long-held ideas into a cohesive and deeply personal collection, offering a unique blend of intricate textures and fragile harmonies that reward attentive listeners with its meticulous attention to detail. The title track “Premise“ opens the A- side with an infectious garage groove and Fleer’s signature brand of detuned vintage polysynths, building up to a bright crescendo that reveals a rhythmically captivating vocal hook. “Know U” features a piercing drum groove, occasionally interrupted by abstract Buchla glitches and a reduced RnB vocal chop paired with ethereal, almost organ-like layers of pads to culminate in a stripped-down moment for the bass line to take center stage. The main theme of “Thinkage” is a classic break paired with a layered pattern of abstract, percussive vocal chops. This rhythmic pulse is accompanied by a wild harmony of constantly warping and evolving pads and drawn-out bass sounds. Opening the B-side, “Real Love” is the darkest tune on the EP. Its unstable chords and intricate, unpredictable textures induce a constant sense of unease, held together by a subtle techno groove. “Rush” contrasts this with a euphoric chord progression reminiscent of early post-dubstep anthems. The EP closes with “Drift,” a final climax that revisits previous themes, offering a powerful and uplifting resolution.

It )Îl!es( had to handle
an endless care for some instants
Three I I I forms an archipelago
This record is made
Of synthesis
modulated,
By encounters
In the last 7 years

Composed by Augustin Soulard,

Life (Vie) Cries (Cri) Insanely linked (À lier)

Bag
(Corne)
&
Pipe
(Muse)
Lise Barkas