Suche:poet

For 20 years the Tuareg culture and music has fascinated the world. Their quasi-sacred poetic songs inspire western songwriters like KURT VILE or JOSÉ GONZALEZ, while the virtuosity of their guitar playing fascinates guitar heroes like JIMMY PAGE, and finally the spirituality and meditative hypnotism impresses electronic music producers like FOUR TET.With two albums, IMARHAN has become an emblem of the new Tuareg generation, breathing new life into “Assouf”, the desert blues.

While most of current Tuareg productions are exiled to the United States, the group, led by Sadam, is part of their culture and their city, the capital of the Tuareg people, with an open door to the desert. By building their own studio in Tamanrasset Aboogi, Imarhan become the spokesmen of the young Tuareg lost generation (forgotten by Algerian, Nigerian and Malian governments).With their new album Aboogi, Imarhan manipulate the rights and ancestry of the Tuareg. By inviting the legendary Mohamed At Itlale aka Japonais (who has since, sadly, passed away) and the genius musician Abdallah Ag Alhousseyni, IMARHAN follows the heritage of TINARIWEN, the godfathers of Assouf. When they recorded with GRUFF RHYS of the SUPER FURRY ANIMALS, their brilliant and universal songwriting takes on every sense of the word. Finally, by inviting the Sudanese singer Sulafa Elyas, we understand that IMARHAN is open to all of Africa, defenders of the Tuaregs but above all spokesperson for the new African generation.

“Sainen Hildo” is an album based on Miguel’s original compositions, recomposed and rearranged for accordion and voice by the two composers. Using the natural resonance and harmonics of these two instruments to influence their introspective interactions, resulting in evolving drones and tones and puzzling percussive outbursts. Unusual and at times unsettling, they manage to create a calibrated, deep and complex exploratory universe of ambience and drone where listening becomes a ritual. Highest recommendation for fans of Pauline Oliveros, Eliane Radigue or Phill Niblock.

Garazi Navas (accordion + voice). Original compositions by Miguel A. García. Recomposed and rearranged by Garazi Navas & Miguel A. García. Recorded by Ibon Rg at Azkuna Zentroa (Contemporary Art Centre in Bilbao) in June 2022, as part of the associated artists program. Mixing and mastering by Juan Carlos Blancas. Compiled by Mikel Acosta.

Acrylic painting on heavyweight paper by Maite Mugerza Ronse. Limited edition of 300 black vinyl LP’s housed in a coloured matt laminated cover. Released by Hegoa Diskak.

Dopelganger is the project in collaboration between classically trained accordion player and singer Garazi Navas (Usansolo, Bizkaia-Biscay, 1995) and Miguel A. Garcia (Vitoria-Gasteiz), an artist living in Bilbao with an extensive career in the fields of experimental music and sound art.

Garazi Navas / Classically trained at Musikene School of Music in San Sebastian with a masters in traditional music, Garazi, is a restless accordionist who, despite her young age, has taken part in a multitude of projects in theater, poetry, ballet, art installations and even playing with the Bilbao Symphony Orchestra. Her works are a personal interpretation of the close relationship which she feels exists between cutting-edge and traditional music.

Miguel A. García / Has performed extensively in Europe, America and Asia, both as a solo artist, improvising and in multiple ensembles. He has collaborated with dozens of artists (Al Karpenter, Jean Luc Guionnet, Sébastien Branche...) in studio and live, and appeared in more than a hundred albums. At the same time, he is organizer and curator of events, being founder of Club Le Larraskito, director of Zarata Fest, and part of the coordination of the cycle Hotsetan at Azkuna Zentroa itself

Between improv, pop and r&b abstractions, and contemplative balearics, Sam Gendel and Ugné Uma “Tam tikri objektai erdvėje” subtly meanders through a fragile and forward cosmos both inward and out.

Sam Gendel and Ugnė Uma’s Tam Tikri Objektai Erdvėje album sketches a layered, melismatic and intertextual view on what both performers define as a lightness of being. Ugnė Uma’s musical stance is influenced by experimental poetry and Lithuania’s 20th century underground music scene - jazz and folk, resulting from the liberation of the country’s independence movements. Sam Gendel, from Los Angeles, is a saxophonist and producer, proficient on more instruments than the saxophone alone, whose recorded work both solo and collaborative has brought him acclaim as a vital new voice in modern jazz and beyond.

Tam Tikri Objektai Erdvėje is Lithuanian and translates as Some Particular Objects in Space. The six tracks on the album stand for every letter of the word Saturn. They sketch out a sound palette both fragile and full of forward momentum. With hints of improv, sampling their own recorded work and sounds of a childhood’s Yamaha Portasound PSS-290 synth into abstractions of pop and r&b, some of these tracks reach an almost balearic feel, the more contemplative end of it. With lyrics delving into cosmic phenomena, Tam Tikri Objektai Erdvėje is an album about space, whether cosmic or inward or the one in between. It easily surpasses the sum of its influences and the materials and tactics used to produce it.

T4T LUV NRG presents “Call Me G”, the new album by Brooklyn’s Russell E.L. Butler, their first full length LP since the release of 2018’s critically acclaimed “The Home I’d Build For Myself and All My Friends” on Left Hand Path. In the intervening years, Russell has experienced an accumulation of personal subjective experiences which are explored through captivating musical modalities and expressions on this sprawling, gorgeous, and deeply emotional album. Russell’s work on “Call Me G” can be described as a unique amalgam of early NY house music, dub techno and poetry. The album’s title track, as well as its instrumentals, are a kind of storytelling for histories that continue to exist without observation as well as for secrets and the power they hold in spite of their truth being obscured and sometimes lost.

Storytellers like Russell have the ability to collapse the past and future into discrete experiences of non-linear time through the emotional landscape of music and voice. Each song contains a palatable loneliness and hurt to which many in this modern world can relate, but each track also suggests the possibility of genuine connection and the formation of the self through communing and reintegrating with the natural world. These parallel concepts are the subject of “Accumulation”, a writing by Russell which accompanies the release of the album. The emotions, conflicts and resolutions that accompany Russell’s storytelling are felt acutely on tracks such as “I’m Dancing No One Is Watching” and “Stare Into The Light Beam”, among others.

On the title song, which closes the album, Russell sings “Can you call me? Will you call me? All that I want is for you to call me by my name...My name is G.” Context is part of interpretation and thus it is left to the listener to feel in the music and lyrics the concept that what may seem erased never truly dies, the traces still exist in the thing that takes its place. The T4T LUV NRG label is in part a continuing effort to facilitate the documentation of true stories that don’t get told—rather than representing a singular vibe or genre. Russell’s album is a stunning and profound entry in this evolving catalog of music and art. The beautiful cover of “Call Me G” is based on a hand drawn portrait of the artist by Diego Guzman.

On 'Models', Lee Gamble liberates sonic spectres to inform a suite of illusory anthems, subliming vulnerable, half-remembered fragments of dream pop, Soundcloud rap and trance in the process. Sung by cybernetic voices in an almost wordless language, his widescreen memories reverberate across the last few decades of pop history, smudging Elizabeth Frazer's surreal poetry into disembodied diva cries and Lil Uzi Vert's abstract, AutoTuned mumbles. Extracting haunted fragments of synthetic corrupted chatter and indecipherable non-words to sculpt dreamy pop simulacrums, Gamble takes the concept of the pop producer to its logical extreme; examining how intonation and language is engineered to monopolise our attention, his magical inversion of pop playing like a bewitching symphony of earworms.

I Talk To Water, the fifth album for Kompakt by Danish producer Kölsch, is the artist’s most personal statement yet. While all the trademarks that make his music so popular and powerful are still present – lush, melodic techno; swooping, trance-like figures; sensuous, shivery texturology – I Talk To Water is also a deep and intimate rapprochement with family and history, a beautiful, finely detailed document of loss and memory, and a tracing of the long, unbroken thread of grief that runs through our lives once we’ve lost those we loved.

The emotional core of I Talk To Water, then, is a cache of recordings by Kölsch’s father, Patrick Reilly, who passed away in 2003 from brain cancer. With time rendered elastic by the pandemic and its associated lockdowns, its sudden, alienating shifts in everyday living, Kölsch found himself reflecting on his father’s passing and ongoing spiritual presence, thinking about how best to memorialise such a significant figure in his own life. Those recordings opened a gateway, of sorts, for Kölsch to move through – a way to bring past and present together and entwine them in a sensitive, poetic manner.

Kölsch’s father was a musician – “touring in the sixties and seventies, in the Middle East especially, he was doing the whole hippy trail, playing guitar, and wrote some songs over the years,” he recalls. “But all in all, he decided to focus on family rather than pursue a musical career.” Reilly kept playing and writing music over the years, though Kölsch hadn’t listened to the material for some time: “I’d never had the guts to listen to it, because I just felt too fragile listening to his voice. It’s such a tough thing to go through.”

During the pandemic, though, Kölsch listened through the fragmented body of work that his father had produced over the years. “I decided I’m gonna finally release my dad’s music twenty years after his passing,” he reflects. “This whole album is about the process of loss, and for me it’s been one of my main driving forces in my musical life, the whole emotional aspect of whatever I’ve done has been based in that feeling that he’s not there anymore.”

Recordings of Reilly appear on three songs across I Talk To Water. His guitars drift pensively across “Grape”, offering a lush thread of melody that Kölsch wraps with clicking, driftwood rhythms and droning, melancholy bass. “Tell Me” is a lovely three-minute art song, a sadly beautiful reflection, minimally adorned with gentle keys and a muted pulse. And on the closing “It Ends Where It Began”, Kölsch lets his father’s acoustic guitar take centre stage for a lament that’s unexpectedly folksy, a guitar soli dream, which Reilly originally recorded in 1996. “He actually recorded it for my first album that never came out,” Kölsch reveals, “and I had it sitting around forever. That is purely him.”

These three imagined collaborations between father and son are poised and delicate. But their relationship also marks the gorgeous music Kölsch has made across the rest of I Talk To Water, from the itchy yet lush “Pet Sound” (titled in tribute to one of Reilly’s favourite albums), the flickering synths and yearning vocal samples that slide through “Khenpo”, the ecstatic shuddering that marks “Only Get Better”, or “Implant”’s slow-motion pans and subtle reveals.

There’s also the title song, where Kölsch is joined by guest Perry Farrell (Jane’s Addiction, Porno For Pyros), singing a mantra for internal reflection: “I talk to water / Searching for myself / Looking for answers / Oceans of you.” Farrell’s appearance brings another timbre, another spirit to the album, aligning neatly with his recent interest in electronic music. “He was completely taken by this idea of talking to water,” Kölsch says, thinking about the ways we collectively lean towards the natural world as a comfort and a listener, a guide through mourning, a way to map out the terrain of the heart. This mapping is something that Kölsch has proven remarkably adept at through the years; dance music for both body and mind, but also both for the here-and-now, and for the hereafter.

“I Talk To Water”, das fünfte Album des dänischen Produzenten Kölsch für Kompakt, ist zweifellos das persönlichste Statement des Künstlers bislang. Während alle Markenzeichen, die seine Musik so beliebt und kraftvoll machen, immer noch präsent sind – üppige, melodische Techno-Tracks; schwebende, tranceartige Elemente; sinnliche, fiebrige Texturen – ist “I Talk To Water” auch eine tiefe und intime Annäherung an Familie und Geschichte. Es ist ein wunderschönes, fein ausgearbeitetes Dokument des Verlusts und der Erinnerung, und es verfolgt den langen, ungebrochenen Faden der Trauer, der durch unser Leben läuft, sobald wir diejenigen verloren haben, die wir liebten.

Der emotionale Kern von “I Talk To Water” besteht aus Aufnahmen von Kölschs Vater, Patrick Reilly, der 2003 an Hirnkrebs verstarb. Durch die Pandemie und ihre damit verbundenen Lockdowns, die plötzlichen, entfremdenden Veränderungen im Alltag, fand Kölsch sich in Gedanken an den Tod seines Vaters und seine fortwährende spirituelle Präsenz wieder. Er überlegte, wie er eine so bedeutende Figur in seinem eigenen Leben am besten verewigen könnte. Diese Aufnahmen öffneten ihm sozusagen ein Portal, um Vergangenheit und Gegenwart miteinander zu verbinden und sie auf sensible und poetische Weise zu verweben.

Kölschs Vater war Musiker – “er tourte in den sechziger und siebziger Jahren, vor allem im Nahen Osten, auf dem Hippie Trail, spielte Gitarre und schrieb im Laufe der Jahre einige Songs”, erinnert sich Kölsch. “Aber alles in allem entschied er sich, sich auf die Familie zu konzentrieren, anstatt eine musikalische Karriere zu verfolgen.” Reilly spielte und schrieb jedoch im Laufe der Jahre weiterhin Musik, obwohl Kölsch das Material lange Zeit nicht angehört hatte: “Ich hatte nie den Mut, es anzuhören, weil ich mich einfach zu zerbrechlich fühlte, seine Stimme anzuhören. Es ist so schwer, das durchzustehen.”

Während der Pandemie hörte sich Kölsch jedoch durch das fragmentierte Werk, das sein Vater im Laufe der Jahre produziert hatte. “Ich beschloss, die Musik meines Vaters zwanzig Jahre nach seinem Tod endlich zu veröffentlichen”, reflektiert er. “Dieses ganze Album handelt von dem Verlustprozess, welcher für mich generell eine der Hauptantriebskräfte in meinem musikalischen Leben ist. Der ganze emotionale Aspekt von dem, was ich getan habe, basierte auf dem Gefühl, dass er nicht mehr da ist.”

Auf “I Talk To Water” sind Aufnahmen von Reilly in drei Songs zu hören. Seine Gitarren ziehen nachdenklich durch “Grape”, bieten einen üppigen Melodiefaden, den Kölsch mit klickenden, treibenden Rhythmen und dröhnendem, melancholischem Bass umwickelt. “Tell Me” ist ein schönes dreiminütiges Kunstlied, eine traurig-schöne Reflexion, minimal geschmückt mit sanften Tasten und einem gedämpften Puls. Und auf dem Abschlusstrack “It Ends Where It Began” lässt Kölsch die akustische Gitarre seines Vaters im Mittelpunkt stehen, ein überraschend folkiger Klagegesang, den Reilly ursprünglich 1996 aufgenommen hatte. “Er hat es tatsächlich für mein erstes Album aufgenommen, das nie veröffentlicht wurde”, enthüllt Kölsch, “und ich hatte es ewig liegen.”

Diese drei erdachten Kollaborationen zwischen Vater und Sohn sind ausgewogen und zart. Aber ihre Beziehung prägt auch die wunderschöne Musik, die Kölsch im Rest von “I Talk To Water” geschaffen hat, angefangen bei dem nervösen, aber üppigen “Pet Sound” (benannt als Hommage an eines von Reillys Lieblingsalben), den flimmernden Synthesizern und sehnsüchtigen Vocal-Samples in “Khenpo”, den ekstatischen Erschütterungen in “Only Get Better” oder den langsamen Schwenks und subtilen Enthüllungen in “Implant”.

Es gibt auch den Titelsong, in dem Kölsch von Gast Perry Farrell (Jane’s Addiction, Porno For Pyros) begleitet wird, der ein Mantra für die innere Reflexion singt: “I talk to water / Searching for myself / Looking for answers / Oceans of you.” Farrells Auftritt bringt eine weitere Klangfarbe, einen weiteren Geist in das Album, der gut zu seinem jüngsten Interesse an elektronischer Musik passt. “Er war völlig fasziniert von der Idee, mit Wasser zu sprechen”, sagt Kölsch und denkt darüber nach, wie wir kollektiv zur Natur als Trost, Zuhörer, Führer durch die Trauer neigen, um die Gelände des Herzens zu kartieren. Diese Kartierung ist etwas, in dem Kölsch im Laufe der Jahre erstaunlich geschickt war; Tanzmusik für Körper und Geist, sowohl für das Hier und Jetzt, als auch für das Leben danach.

4/5 REVIEW IN SHINDIG! ''Incorporating afrobeat and a more spiritual sound in amongst its heavy beats and super-tight musicianship''

As pioneers in the burgeoning modern funk scene of the '90s The Poets of Rhythm created new standards, transcending the parameters lesser groups were defined by. With Discern / Define the Poets took their brand of classic funk to the next level by blending elements of rock, psychedelia, afro-beat, jazz and heavy, heavy drums to create a wholly original brand of transcendent, funky soul.

Anyone who has tried to cop an OG in the last twenty years knows how difficult of a task that has proven to be - not necessarily due to rarity, but more to the fact that people simply DO NOT get rid of this album. It's a testament to the fact that Discern / Define has no shelf life. It's a bonafide classic that any discerning funk and soul fan must have in their collection. Now sporting a deluxe gatefold jacket with reimagined artwork, it is an honor to get these back on the shelves of a record shop near you. Cop one today!

"They have the unique power of being able to depart from tradition in order to bring advancement music and unsuspecting listeners, yet still please the purists with home-cooked "Funk-of-Ages" values"
- Lyrics Born

Kompakt unveils the third volume of Jörg Burger’s Velvet Desert Music compilation series, dedicated to music that hits the sweet spot between the cinematic, the (pop) ambient, and the psychedelic. With Velvet Desert Music Vol. 3, Burger and his friends wander afar, taking trips away from, or adjacent to, the dancefloor that’s acted so long as the crucible for the Kompakt aesthetic. Like its predecessors, it’s a gorgeous, lambent collection of late-night mood music.

Because it’s such a broad church, Velvet Desert Music admits all kinds of new experiences, as well, with Burger looking for music that "leads out of the desert into the velvet universe". Indeed, of all the volumes in the series, this third instalment feels closest to an album made by a true collective. The roster has changed, with new contributors Flug 8 and Seb Martel, both with his trio Las Ondas Marteles and with Chocolate Genius and Zsela as La Finca, joining regulars The Novotones, Mount Obsidian, The Golden Bug, Paulor and Sascha Funke.

Burger himself reappears, too, alongside Fritz Ackermann (of The Novotones), Max Würden and Thore Pfeiffer, in The Velvet Circle. Their contributions are pure lush life electronica: “Our Tribe” hitches a ride with a low-slung groove, flickering psychedelic reels of acoustic guitar traipsing across moody bass and taffeta layers of drone; their opening remix of Flug 8’s “Puerto Rico” gently introduces the album with softly tangling electronic tones, while guitars, drenched in reverb, pirouette in the background. A Mount Obsidian remix of “Sacrosanct” by Burger’s The Black Frame -project is a swirling treat for the ears.

La Finca’s electronics and voice miniature, “What Clouds Say”, is a masterclass in poetic restraint; Martel’s “Dark Mambo”, remixed by Burger, is one of the collection’s big surprises, for it indeed does what the title says, a drifting, surrealist take on the mambo form, full of pensive chords, rich with unrequited longing, a breathy saxophone whispering under the song’s sly rhythmic carriage.

Elsewhere, The Novotones chime in with a slyly propulsive, Krautrock-esque charmer, “Liberty Bell”, and the guitar-led tone-drift of “Valley of Oblivion”; Paulor’s “The Last Coke in the Desert” is a chiming, lilting dreamscape; Mount Obsidian are joined by vocalist Charlotte Jestaedt for two modern takes on early-hours art song, “Marole” and “Fade”; Sascha Funke’s “Mathias Rust” is a lavish dancefloor dream, vocal samples drifting through the song as it slowly envelops the listener in its opulent radiance.

This is just a taste of the rich pleasures of Velvet Desert Music Vol. 3, a triumph of a compilation that takes the psychedelic visions of its predecessors and looks for the desert within, a dusty kiss, a road-movie hallucination flickering on the listener’s eyelids, a cinematic projection from deep inside the mind.

It’s been a few years since Captain Mustache took a ride with Kompakt – 2021, to be exact, when he released the “Everything” single, and subsequently made an appearance on that year’s entry in the Total series. But this visionary French producer has been busy, indeed fiercely productive, ever since, appearing on Helena Hauff’s Return To Disorder and John Digweed’s Bedrock, collaborating with Dave Clarke, Popof, The Advent, Paris The Black Fu, Keith Tucker from AUX88... and two beautifully eloquent albums, Tourbillon Nocturne and Indigo Memories. But with The Super Album, Captain Mustache returns to Kompakt with his most sublime collection yet. On The Super Album, the Captain soundtracks an imagined “whole day for party people.” He welcomes friends old and new on board: opening with the poetic club banger of “About Love”, with guest appearance from Speakwave (aka dynArec), The Super Album shifts gears into the lush, sunny “Shifting Basslines”, where Captain Mustache’s pulsing electro-disco is the perfect fit for a third collaboration with electroclash pioneers Chicks on Speed. After the deep techno pulsations of “Laser Me” and the glitzy pop shine of “Gimme Ya Mustache”, more guests arrive: Arnaud Rebotini of Black Strobe on the slinky “I Love Watching U”, and then a spoken cameo from the truly legendary French disco diva Amanda Lear on “Mustache Of The Universe”, a glitzy glitterball of a song that’s shrouded in ghostly synths. All those tracks appear on the 12” version of The Super Album – download the digital version and you get six more slices of Mustache magic. Here, the narrative turns more insular, more dancefloor focused – the party people have moved through the daytime and they’re in their element, diving deep into the night-time economy. The album spirals, beautifully, into stark electro, driving techno, with great moments of beauty and melancholy – see the pointillist arpeggios of “Everything” (which features Play Paul), the disco stomp of “Acapulco Citron”, and a breath-taking double-bill of stripped back psychedelic electro on “Pulsions Organiques”, and the layered, luscious, swooning “Clair-Obscur”. From there, it’s an astral glide into the Dopplereffekt-ish “Galaxian Symbiosis” before Foremost Poets join Captain Mustache to wave the night goodbye with the brittle, brilliant “Floorwax”. It’s a day in the life, but all in service to the pleasures of nightlife; the dancefloor is The Super Album’s beacon, your body the pliable material moulded into evocative new shapes by this dense, hypnotic, brilliantly pop album.

Known principally as a smooth titan of blue-eyed soul, Bobby Caldwell transcended genre tags with consummate ease; he was a musical icon of real class and versatility, cherished the world over. Tragically passing away in March 2023 at the too young age of 71, it still feels as if Bobby's true artistry is profoundly under-appreciated. His double platinum self-titled album from 1978 is a timeless masterpiece of sophisticated jazzy soul brilliance and is strictly canonical. Yes, it's perfect, yet it's been out of press on vinyl for years. We're deeply honoured to present the long-awaited reissue this summer.

Whilst Ned Doheny is known in Japan as "Mr California", native New Yorker Bobby Caldwell has always been "Mr AOR" to his Far-Eastern friends. His distinct charm is an irresistible blend of soul, jazz, and pop influences. He possessed phenomenal songwriting prowess, smooth vocal performances, was both a great soul guitarist and dextrous keyboard player and known for genius chord progressions. It all added up to a multi-layered brilliance entering the studio, and the singular sound he landed on was laced with soulful, sweeping strings and funky horns, touching lightly on disco, while allowing his supple voice to carry the stunning tracks he'd crafted.

String-swept opener "Special To Me" immediately sets the tone with its lush instrumentation, rich harmonies, and Caldwell's velvety-smooth vocals. Next up, a huge one. The infectious, mid-tempo bounce of "My Flame" showcases Caldwell's ability to effortlessly blend catchy pop hooks with soulful arrangements. It's an exquisite, emotive ballad that, at the same time, absolutely SLAPS. Game recognise game, and all that, so, accordingly, Notorious B.I.G. memorably ran with “My Flame” for his 1997 single “Sky’s The Limit”. The rolling, disco-very "Love Won't Wait" is a slick, uptempo track containing heartfelt lyrics intertwined with elegant strings and a horn section to die for. Aching - and achingly cool - single "Can't Say Goodbye" is a real fan favourite, and it's no surprise. It's a laconic, slow-mo jazz-funk stepper, with fantastic, very deliberate playing that closes out the A Side quite exceptionally. "Come To Me" slows proceedings down elegantly to open Side B before the universally agreed-upon masterpiece enters proceedings.

"What You Won't Do for Love," the standout hit that became a classic in its own right, perfectly captured Bobby's ability to infuse a contagious groove with introspective and relatable lyrics. With its instantly recognisable horn riff and Caldwell's soulful delivery, this timeless, chiller anthem continues to captivate audiences and define his musical legacy. He scored huge with the track, taking over the pop and R&B airways with this mellow soul stepper. It has remained a perennial favourite and has been heavily sampled, such is its unique allure; Aaliyah sang over snatches of it on "Age Ain’t Nothing But A Number" and you can hear Caldwell’s vocal sample used for the hook on Tupac’s posthumously released “Do For Love”.

Upon submitting the finished album to his label, they requested more material in hope of a big single. As Bobby remembered to Wax Poetics a few years ago: “Now at this point, I’m mentally exhausted...and bear in mind that I got so close to all the songs I’d written. I gave each song a profound amount of thought, and maybe too much. So, in haste, I went in and cut this song, "What You Won’t Do For Love". Wrote it in a day, cut the rhythm track, overdubbed the horns, I sang the song, and literally turned it in three days after. And lo and behold, the one song I gave the least thought to,” Bobby laughed, “ended up being a national anthem.”

The mysterious, magical "Kalimba Song" is a cosmic, kalimba-driven melodic-funk instrumental - short but oh, so sweet. It's followed by the supreme tear-jerker "Take Me Back To Then", Bobby's otherworldly voice deeply longing for a simpler time, "when life was mellow". I think we can all get behind this sentiment. The final cut is arguably its deepest, its low-key finest moment. For us, it is, anyway. The glorious, driving, effortlessly funky guitar-soul jam "Down For The Third Time" is a huge melancholic Be With favourite and has been played by discerning genre-hopping DJs with significant glee for years. Hypnotic, melodic, beautiful. Like the album it elegantly rounds out.

Bobby sadly passed away on 23rd March 2023, after a long struggle with mitochondrial damage and oxidative stress, due to an adverse effect from a fluoroquinolone antibiotic. The reissue of his wonderful eponymous album will be available on vinyl across the globe, ensuring that fans of his incomparable talent - and soul music enthusiasts worldwide - can radiate in the deep beauty of this seminal album. Meticulously remastered and cut by both Simon Francis and Cicely Balston respectively, it has been pressed to the highest possibly quality at Record Industry in Holland.

Following on from the recent Elegiac release - a meeting of two mavericks Blurt's Ted Milton and Wire's Graham Lewis we have teamed up with Blurt for a double sided 45 featuring two new tracks "Cry" & "I'll Be There Now".

Milton is a poet, with several volumes under his belt, as well as an avant-garde puppeteer. Yet he's probably best known as vocalist/saxophonist with psycho-funk afro punk fake no-wave pogo jazz trio Blurt. Milton's group has produced an impressive string of albums, not to mention his numerous solo recordings. Brimming with the pogo punk energy the band are known for, the lead side "Cry" is a mesh of raw drums and piercing sax slowing down on the flip side to a head nodding pace with Milton's echoing refrains backed by the raw bounce of the band.

Chansons for the replicates. Hymns for the algorythmed. Operatic minimal wave. Spoken words. Otherworldly electronica. Oh pop, Oh techno. Oh Pose Dia. Now on R.i.O. simulating herself on an album full of weeping synthlines, melding melodies, unreeling theatre between the notes, camouflaging in fashion and rhyme. Impulsive, destructive, yet so perceptive, gently repetitive. “Simulate Yourself” is her second album since “Front View,” released in 2020 on Bureau B.

Now the Hamburg-based filmmaker, DJ and musician Helena Ratka, aka Pose Dia, brings a notion of digital archeology. Nine otherworldly chanting cold blooded Lieder and tracks, manic, longing for the real in the un- real. The matter of her poetic-abstract lyrics is rhizomatic, linking psychological “Suspiria” fantasy with sociology, media theory and all that never obsolete post-structuralism. Hyperreality for the hyped. Fully illusionistic. Wrapped in touching airs, drilling into cold waving Risiko spheres. X-mal rotating towards novel corners, shading light on old ones. Track make-up transforms into lacquered songs. Fog and fire. Night and light. Hairspray and cigarettes. Pose Dia transfers fine-tuned dissatisfaction to all those fully satisfied. Welcome to the other side of the Ocean.

You know Krash Slaughta right? The man behind the recent wildly successful DOOM/Sugacubes mash-up LP Sugar-Coated DOOM, not to mention his unofficial remixes of the Wu’s K.R.E.A.M. and P.L.O. Style and collab. 45 with Phill Most Chill, Rebel Base? ‘Is he at it again?’ the monkey hears you ask. Yes, he is at it again, though the closest of the the three aforementioned releases to what he’s about to drop is the Wu remix 45. And what he’s about to drop is Diggin Deeper, not a single this time but a whole remix album of one of his (and the monkey’s!) all-time favourite hip-hop LPs – to wit, Niggamortis – more usually known as Six Feet Deep (especially in the U.S., though minus the best track under that name) by hip-hop supergroup Gravediggaz.

As many will know, this LP with its horror-movie fixated lyrics gave birth to a whole hip-hop sub-genre – that of ‘horrorcore.’ However, none of those who came after seemed to manage the lyrical humour of The RZArector, The Grym Reaper and The Gatekeeper (a.k.a. RZA, Poetic and Frukwan) and the only bit of production by The Undertaker (a.k.a. Prince Paul) that they seemed interested in was the sub-metal rap sludge of the shouty Bang Your Head – i.e. the LP’s one weak spot. But don’t worry, Krash isn’t interested in that sort of thing. Not only does he avoid rap-metal beats for Bang Your Head, he doesn’t use any on the LP at all – hurrah! What he does do is employ, arguably, as eclectic an array of sample sources as Prince Paul on the original – though with an entirely different end result. Bang Your Head with its apparently sixties garage band-derived beat for example is one of the standouts. The skeletal piano skank of 6 Feet Deep is another, while a beat featuring spaced-out eighties synths forms the new musical backdrop to Constant Elevation. Two more of the monkey’s favourites on this one are Here Comes The Gravediggaz, now underpinned by double-bass-led funk and the glorious inappropriately joyous bounce of Blood Brothers. The result? Your favourite cuts on this one might not be the same as your favourite cuts on the original. Two different versions of a much-loved LP, then; it’s why people remix hip-hop. All the vocal stems were created by Krash and the ultimate intention is to do a limited vinyl release. Cover art is by the Dead Residents’ Junior Disprol.