Suche:poetry

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

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

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

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

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

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

Dark Green Vinyl

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

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

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

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

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

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

180 GRAM AUDIOPHILE VINYL
PVC PROTECTIVE SLEEVE
GATEFOLD SLEEVE WITH VELVET SPOT VARNISH ON THE OUTSIDE AND IMAGES OF ICONIC MOVIE POSTERS ON THE INSIDE
4-PAGE INSERT
A SELECTION OF DEFINING MORRICONE SONGS, FEATURED IN CLASSIC MOVIES AND SERIES “VERUSCHKA”, “SLALOM”, “ALIBI”, “VIOLENT CITY”, “MACHINE GUN MCCAIN”, AND MANY MORE
LINER NOTES BY CLAUDIO FUIANO
PART OF THE MORRICONE THEMES COLLECTION
THE SPINES OF THE FIVE TITLES FORM ONE IMAGE TOGETHER
MORE INFORMATION ABOUT THE SERIES ON MORRICONEONVINYL
BLACK VINYL

Lounge is the third in a series of five double vinyl releases that bring together some of Ennio Morricone’s greatest soundtrack music. Each collection centres on a different movie genre, together they allow the listener to rediscover the unmatched genius of the greatest movie composer of all time. The Maestro. This collection was announced before Ennio Morricone passed away on July 6, 2020. We’ll continue to release the series to honour this great composer.

The term Lounge Music is not one that Ennio Morricone would have heard at the time he was composing these pieces for the movies that they enhanced, but it is one has been retrospectively applied to a certain type of music, and it is a style that Morricone has contributed a great deal towards.

Lounge refers to a type of easy listening music that began to be popular in the 1950s and developed right through the 1960s and into the 1970s. This was sophisticated music for an adult audience. Lounge music combined its American influences with music that was popular outside the USA such as Latin, Hawaiian, Polynesian, French , and many others. This was an era that was inspired by new inventions. Lounge mimicked the space-age sound effects of the time and the advent of stereophonic technology allowed spatial audio techniques to be used to full effect.

This collection is not about a specific genre of music for film, it is a celebration of Lounge style pieces by Morricone that are capable of evoking in the listener thoughts of easy living, sophistication, romantic moods, and the excitement of a 1950s cocktail lounge or a 1960s nightclub.

Starting 70 years ago as an arranger for the piece Mamma Bianca, Ennio Morricone is the emperor of scores and soundtracks. Morricone has always been a huge influence for the likes of Hans Zimmer, Danger Mouse, Muse, Metallica and many more musicians. He was one of the most successful composers of all-time, selling over 70 million records and winning dozens of awards.

Lounge on black vinyl includes a 4-page insert with liner notes written by Claudio Fuiano. The gatefold sleeve contains a velvet spot varnish on the outside and images of iconic movie posters on the inside.

Oscar Jerome hibernated to make what became The Spoon, his second album. The pandemic had halted his concerts, and he found himself alone in Berlin playing guitar and writing poetry. You can feel that interiority on The Spoon, a laconic piece of work of melodic melancholy. He’ll move from a whisper to a scream throughout the album, and he’s as ready to talk about his feelings of depression as he is to rage about the injustices of his home country.

If naming is a form of claiming, of being claimed, how is one tethered to both the physical landscape that surrounds us, as well as our own internal emotional landscape_at times calm, at times turbulent, and ever changing? H.C. McEntire's new album Every Acre grapples with those themes_themes that encompass grief, loss, and links to land and loved ones. And naming_claiming land, claiming self, being claimed by ancestry and heritage_permeates the hauntingly beautiful landscape that is this poignant collection of songs. The songs straddle the line between music and poetry. In "New View," McEntire cites poets "Day, Ada, and Laux, Berry, and Olds"_fixtures in the world of writing, whose works are beacons of light over bleak horizons. The beginning of the song is backed by soft guitar plucks that fall on the downbeat and spangle like stars, and, throughout, guitar, bass, and drums swell together gently, mimicking ebbing and flowing tides under the moon. McEntire's voice (at once tender and fierce) intones the truth of both giving and taking, releasing and claiming: "Bend me, break me, split me right in two. Mend me, make me_I'll take more of you." Permeated by heartbeat-like drums, "Shadows" develops quiet ruminations on surrender and loss_reminiscing, moving on. This ponderous, dreamlike song asks the question of how "to make room." How does one make room, for self and for renewal and surrender, when it is so difficult to leave what you know behind? Playing with slivers of descending chromatics, along with the occasional downward-stepping bass, here McEntire yearns for home, and for nesting. Perhaps one of the more grief-stricken songs, "Rows of Clover" is a lamentation, one that touches on the loss of a "steadfast hound." The lone piano in the beginning of the song is rhythmically hymn-like. The stark verse arrangement gradually leads to a chorus that reads like a moody exhale, swollen with lush guitar strums and a Bill Withers-esque understated soul groove. But what stands out the most is an image of being "down on your knees, clawing at the garden"_the only explicit mention of a person in the song. "It ain't the easy kind of healing," sings McEntire, seemingly from further and further away as her voice echoes; and healing ta;kes time, time takes time_truths that linger painfully. "Dovetail" is a song that tells of various women. The song moves back and forth between solo piano and the addition of bass and drums under vocals. McEntire's gentle, trembling vibrato_harmonized in thirds in a celebratory manner_calls to mind a rejoicing psalm and shines through these images, leaving the listener cuttingly fraught with emotions_such as wonder, sadness, nostalgia_that can only arise with these juxtapositions. Gracious (and graceful) with its lilting melodies and lush harmonies, Every Acre ex - plores the acres of our physical and emotional homes. These songs are reaching for the kind of home that we all seek: one where we can rest and lay down (or tuck away) our burdens of loss. And maybe, moving through every acre of a world that often tries to tear our sense of identity and heritage down, McEntire sheds light on what it is to be human in this life_both stingy and gracious, both hurtful and kind.

Orange Viny

If naming is a form of claiming, of being claimed, how is one tethered to both the physical landscape that surrounds us, as well as our own internal emotional landscape_at times calm, at times turbulent, and ever changing? H.C. McEntire's new album Every Acre grapples with those themes_themes that encompass grief, loss, and links to land and loved ones. And naming_claiming land, claiming self, being claimed by ancestry and heritage_permeates the hauntingly beautiful landscape that is this poignant collection of songs. The songs straddle the line between music and poetry. In "New View," McEntire cites poets "Day, Ada, and Laux, Berry, and Olds"_fixtures in the world of writing, whose works are beacons of light over bleak horizons. The beginning of the song is backed by soft guitar plucks that fall on the downbeat and spangle like stars, and, throughout, guitar, bass, and drums swell together gently, mimicking ebbing and flowing tides under the moon. McEntire's voice (at once tender and fierce) intones the truth of both giving and taking, releasing and claiming: "Bend me, break me, split me right in two. Mend me, make me_I'll take more of you." Permeated by heartbeat-like drums, "Shadows" develops quiet ruminations on surrender and loss_reminiscing, moving on. This ponderous, dreamlike song asks the question of how "to make room." How does one make room, for self and for renewal and surrender, when it is so difficult to leave what you know behind? Playing with slivers of descending chromatics, along with the occasional downward-stepping bass, here McEntire yearns for home, and for nesting. Perhaps one of the more grief-stricken songs, "Rows of Clover" is a lamentation, one that touches on the loss of a "steadfast hound." The lone piano in the beginning of the song is rhythmically hymn-like. The stark verse arrangement gradually leads to a chorus that reads like a moody exhale, swollen with lush guitar strums and a Bill Withers-esque understated soul groove. But what stands out the most is an image of being "down on your knees, clawing at the garden"_the only explicit mention of a person in the song. "It ain't the easy kind of healing," sings McEntire, seemingly from further and further away as her voice echoes; and healing ta;kes time, time takes time_truths that linger painfully. "Dovetail" is a song that tells of various women. The song moves back and forth between solo piano and the addition of bass and drums under vocals. McEntire's gentle, trembling vibrato_harmonized in thirds in a celebratory manner_calls to mind a rejoicing psalm and shines through these images, leaving the listener cuttingly fraught with emotions_such as wonder, sadness, nostalgia_that can only arise with these juxtapositions. Gracious (and graceful) with its lilting melodies and lush harmonies, Every Acre ex - plores the acres of our physical and emotional homes. These songs are reaching for the kind of home that we all seek: one where we can rest and lay down (or tuck away) our burdens of loss. And maybe, moving through every acre of a world that often tries to tear our sense of identity and heritage down, McEntire sheds light on what it is to be human in this life_both stingy and gracious, both hurtful and kind.

Newly mastered to vinyl from original BYG tapes. Lacquers cut by Alchemy Mastering at AIR STUDIOS. Insert with exclusive liner notes by author, journalist and BYG-authority Kevin Le Gendre. CD: Original 1969 BYG album. Digitally mastered from original BYG tapes by Nick Robbins. 16-pages booklet with photos & exclusive liner notes by author and journalist Kevin Le Gendre. *** Florida-born saxophonist, composer, poet, actor and playwright Archie Shepp was one of the most articulate exponents of politicized black culture in the late ‘60s, a time of enormous upheaval and radical thought. Relocating to Paris he made a number of highly influential albums, such as Blasé, that broached the essential themes of freedom and racial equality, and tapped into the bedrock of African-American music. Gospel and blues were a major part of the work, which also had a strong avant-garde sensibility. The band featured stellar vocalist Jeanne Lee and members of Art Ensemble Of Chicago. These trailblazing artists who combined jazz, poetry and radical politics made a definitive musical statement. “This re-mastered version of a seminal album still has great musical and emotional power... “ Kevin Le Gendre, 2022

Space Dimension Controller’s first release in 2023 is also his first outing to Running Back. Needless to say that it pushes all the right buttons. Warm and playful, but forcing and with fresh jive, Neuclidea and its siblings revolve around classic SDC values. Nevertheless, the Irish melodist is also moving on to new pastures. Hardware sequencing, vintage digital synthesizers via analogue processing spawn a sound that pirouettes as much around the lost cyber-hippie poetry of Border Community as it’s the effigy of fast balearic euphoria – if Ibiza would have been a party scene in Gattaca. Completing this treasure chest is a remix by Hodge for the pragmatic minded out there. Using some heavy drums of the west, his version of Neuclidea extracts the trance-like elements of the original and turns it into a floor-polishing brush. To sum up: music for heartbroken and lovesick victims alike.

Meg Baird’s songs are rarely made up of tidy stories. In fact, for Meg, mystery itself is often the
medium. With ‘Furling’, Meg’s fourth album under her own name, she explores the breadth of
her musical fascinations and the environments around them - the edges of memory,
daydreams spanning years, loose ends, loss, divergent paths, and secret conversations under
stars. ‘Furling’ moves through these varied spaces with the slippery, misty cohesiveness of a
dream - guided by an ageless, stirring voice that remains singular and unmistakable.
Since co-founding the beguiling and beautiful Espers in the mid-aughts amid Philadelphia’s
fertile underground music community, Meg’s solo recordings have constituted just a fraction of
her work.
Her first solo LP, the disarmingly out-of-time ‘Dear Companion’ (2007), saw her carve a quiet,
sunlit space away from the flickering swirl of Espers. Since her last solo releases, ‘Seasons on
Earth’ (2011) and ‘Don’t Weigh Down the Light’ (2015), Meg has lent thunderous drumming,
lead vocal, and poetry to Heron Oblivion (Sub Pop) on an album that garnered praise from the
New York Times and made Mojo’s Top Ten Albums Of 2016 list. She collaborated with harpist
Mary Lattimore on the mesmerizingly hazy ‘Ghost Forests’ (2018). She’s played drums with
Philadelphia scuzz-punks Watery Love (In The Red, Richie Records) and explored her deep
familial folk roots in the Baird Sisters (Grapefruit Records). She also contributed her vocal
arrangements to albums from Sharon Van Etten, Kurt Vile, Will Oldham and Steve Gunn, and
toured with Angel Olson, Dinosaur Jr., Bill Callahan, Thurston Moore and Bert Jansch, among
others.
Yet ‘Furling’ is the album that most irreverently explores the span of her work and musical
touchstones. It showcases her natural tether to 1960s English folk traditions. But it also reveals
her deep love for soul balladry, the solitary musings of Flying Saucer Attack and Neil Young
shackled to his piano deep in the foggy pre-dawn, dubby Bristol atmospherics, the melancholy
memory collage of DJ Shadow’s ‘Endtroducing’, and the delicious, Saturday night promise of
St. Etienne.
‘Furling’ was primarily recorded at Louder Studios by Tim Green (Bikini Kill, Nation of Ulysses,
Melvins, Wooden Shjips). Additional piano and vocal recording were captured at Panoramic
Studios in Stinson Beach, CA with Jason Quever (Papercuts). It was mastered in Brooklyn by
Heba Kadry, who mixed Bjork’s ‘Utopia’ and mastered albums for Slowdive, Cass McCombs
and Beach House.
For all its adornments, ‘Furling’ remains deeply intimate. The entire album was performed by
Meg and her long-time collaborator, partner, and Heron Oblivion bandmate Charlie Saufley.
While her prior solo work hinted at more expansive horizons, ‘Furling’ explores the idea of Meg
Baird as a band much more freely. Venturing beyond the musical confines of fingerstyle guitar,
she plays drums, mellotron, organs, synths, and vibraphone over her piano and guitar
foundations. Her distinctive, simultaneously elegiac and uplifting vocals, meanwhile, connect
surreal dream montages, graft sunshine sonics to swooning mediations on romantic solidarity
in trying times, and weave odes to the simple gestures of friendship - and the loss of family and
friends.
This rich sound world makes the songs a varied bunch: ‘Twelve Saints’ mates Pacific sunset
ambience and Pink Floyd pastoral to a meditation on mortality and escape. The infectious and
kinetic ‘Will You Follow Me Home’ contemplates hope and longing through the looking glass of
a Jimmy Miller-era-Stones strut. And in the closing piece, ‘Wreathing Days’, language
disintegrates over tone clusters that feel somewhere between falling and flying.
‘Wreathing Days’ also reveals much about Meg’s mastery of contrast - situating the dear and
delicate adjacent to chaos. And while it’s true that some songs on ‘Furling’ grapple with
humanity’s existential unknowns in stark terms, they primarily revel in the mysteries that hide in
nature and humanity at their most ordinary. ‘Furling’ lives in the notion that whole universes of
experience, enlightenment, elation and ecstasy can bloom in these corners.

If naming is a form of claiming, of being claimed, how is one tethered to both the physical landscape that surrounds us, as well as our own internal emotional landscape at times calm, at times turbulent, and ever changing? H.C. McEntire’s new album Every Acre grapples with those themes that encompass grief, loss, and links to land and loved ones. And naming claiming land, claiming self, being claimed by ancestry and heritage permeates the hauntingly beautiful landscape that is this poignant collection of songs. The songs straddle the line between music and poetry. In “New View,” McEntire cites poets “Day, Ada, and Laux, Berry, and Olds” fixtures in the world of writing, whose works are beacons of light over bleak horizons. The beginning of the song is backed by soft guitar plucks that fall on the downbeat and spangle like stars, and, throughout, guitar, bass, and drums swell together gently, mimicking ebbing and flowing tides under the moon. McEntire’s voice (at once tender and fierce) intones the truth of both giving and taking, releasing and claiming: “Bend me, break me, split me right in two. Mend me, make me I’ll take more of you.” Permeated by heartbeat-like drums, “Shadows” develops quiet ruminations on surrender and loss reminiscing, moving on. This ponderous, dreamlike song asks the question of how “to make room.” How does one make room, for self and for renewal and surrender, when it is so difficult to leave what you know behind? Playing with slivers of descending chromatics, along with the occasional downward-stepping bass, here McEntire yearns for home, and for nesting. Perhaps one of the more grief-stricken songs, “Rows of Clover” is a lamentation, one that touches on the loss of a “steadfast hound.” The lone piano in the beginning of the song is rhythmically hymn-like. The stark verse arrangement gradually leads to a chorus that reads like a moody exhale, swollen with lush guitar strums and a Bill Withers–esque understated soul groove. But what stands out the most is an image of being “down on your knees, clawing at the garden” the only explicit mention of a person in the song. “It ain’t the easy kind of healing,” sings McEntire, seemingly from further and further away as her voice echoes; and healing takes time, time takes time truths that linger painfully. “Dovetail” is a song that tells of various women. The song moves back and forth between solo piano and the addition of bass and drums under vocals. McEntire’s gentle, trembling vibrato harmonized in thirds in a celebratory manner calls to mind a rejoicing psalm and shines through these images, leaving the listener cuttingly fraught with emotions such as wonder, sadness, nostalgia that can only arise with these juxtapositions. Gracious (and graceful) with its lilting melodies and lush harmonies, Every Acre explores the acres of our physical and emotional homes. These songs are reaching for the kind of home that we all seek: one where we can rest and lay down (or tuck away) our burdens of loss. And maybe, moving through every acre of a world that often tries to tear our sense of identity and heritage down, McEntire sheds light on what it is to be human in this life both stingy and gracious, both hurtful and kind.

• Gil Scott-Heron was twenty-one years old when he was signed to Flying Dutchman by Bob Thiele to make an album of his poetry. The resultant “Small Talk at 125th and Lenox” was recorded before a small live audience and, released in 1970, sat perfectly in a world where the Last Poets had just tasted Top 10 success with their debut LP. “Small Talk at 125th and Lenox” opened with a spoken word version of ‘The Revolution Will Not Be Televised’ and also featured poems and musical pieces like ‘Omen’, ‘Brother’, ‘Plastic Pattern People’, ‘Paint It Black’ and ‘Everyday’ that reflected on the black community and its condition within America at this time.

• The starkest of these sharp observational pieces from Scott-Heron was ‘Whitey On The Moon’, which recounts the US Government spending billions on landing a rocket on the moon at a time when, “a rat done bit my sister, Nell”.

• Like its follow-up – “Pieces Of A Man” – “Small Talk at 125th and Lenox” is a classic album and we are delighted to serve it up again on vinyl in a gatefold sleeve with the original liner notes.

• With current “Big Talk” of going back to the moon, whilst injustice still prevails for many black people in America, “Small Talk at 125th and Lenox” still conveys a message that resonates today.

For Mal-one’s sixth single he has chosen to use what he calls his Punk Art Poetry to shine a light on one of Malcolm Mclaren and Vivienne Westwood’s most controversial / stylistic garment, the ‘Anarchy Shirt’.

Vivienne had made the prototype of the ‘Anarchy Shirt’ on some stock of ‘Wemblex’ shirts that Malcolm had acquired and had shown it to Malcolm who said it needed to say more. So, he added the text and the quotes from ‘Situationist’ related saying’s ‘Try Subversion’ to quoting revolutionist Durutti ‘We are not afraid of the ruins’. The text over the shirt front, made using their kids ‘letraset stencil’ would say ‘Dangerously Close To Love’ or ‘Only Anarchists Are Pretty’…. sounds like a good chorus for a song. Only fifty of these shirts were originally made but like all design classics have been copied many times.

‘Some say Only Anarchists are Pretty… or Dangerously Close to Love’

Hope you enjoy the story told on this 500-copy single backed with a dubbed-up version on the B-Side.

In Western thought and culture, voice without speech is viewed as irrational and dangerous. Across myth and history, these voices must be contained or prohibited due to the threat they pose on social order. Female, animal, artificial and inanimate, lamenting, screaming, dreaming, mumbling. Fugitive voices, entangled in a parallel ‘nonhuman history’ coming together to create a chorus. Future Chorus is based on a collection of readings, spoken word, nonlinguistic sound, poetry, MCing, and animal sound, combined with machine learning processes to generate a genderless voice speaking a nonhuman language. The vocal database and AI voice became the raw material for five remixes by AGF, Chino Amobi, Harrga, Savvas Metaxas, Trustfall and Lafawndah. The project was conceived and curated by writer, theorist and practitioner Eleni Ikoniadou, a Senior Tutor at the Royal College of Art and member of the art collective AUDINT. The album is released by Hypermedium in collaboration with MAENADS — Anne Duffau, Eleni Ikoniadou, Aphroditi Psarra — a platform for collaborative art projects, musical, visual, performative or text based, releasing work that seeks to inhabit polyvocal narratives, group joy, alternative worlds or subjectivities, spontaneous collective ruptures.

Includes one-sided 7” ('It's All Punk (Full version)”, signed and blind stamped limited edition print, fly poster (20cm x 30cm), 20 page 12” x 12” booklet with lyrics and photos laid out in style of newspaper.

The ‘It’s All Punk Rock’ album was initially inspired by various artworks Punk Artist Mal-One had completed and titled. These titles usually turned into Punk Poetry / Lyrics and finally into songs. The idea would lead to grouping these songs together and to add the additional difficult cherry on the top. The songs would also include the word ‘Punk’ in each of their titles. Creating what we called the first Punk Art Concept Album. The title of the album as well as summing up the contents, grew from a term Mal-One had used for years when asked what had inspired a certain work or what was the meaning behind something …”It’s All Punk Rock”’ would be the quick reply.

Each song tells the story or relates the ideas behind a work, whether that be 430 King’s Road (where Punk meets Rock ’N’ Roll) the story of the various guises that Malcolm McLaren and Vivienne Westwood would conceive for their shop from LET IT ROCK, TOO FAST TO LIVE TOO YOUNG TO DIE, SEX, SEDTIONARIES. Anarchy Tour After Grundy (Punks out on Parole) the story of the `Anarchy Tour’ and what happened after the infamous appearance by the Sex Pistols on the ‘Today’ show with Bill Grundy. Punk Rock Jubilee 77, the Silver Jubilee celebrations of 1977 and its punk overtones. The Punk Rockers Gig Prayer, a Punk poem for the various venues that bands played back in those heady times. The Last Punk on Portobello Road (Ode to Joe), a lament to Mr Joe Strummer an inspiration to us all. Yes, every picture as they say tells a story, in this case never a truer word spoken.

Hope you enjoy the ride sonically and visually.

Conceived as a manifesto for eponymous all-female label Permanent Draft, this limited flexi comes with a booklet of poetry and pictures based on the prime number 13. Permanent Draft aims to highlight works showing a certain taste for fragmentary, irrepressible creative eruption and lo-fi experiments. Leaving the grandiose apart to pay and bring attention to the sounds, details and anecdotes of everyday life, picking up raw material from the ordinary. Bitter truths, migrainous fulfilments, dead clowns, broken gods, taffeta fairies, fruit foxes and non-binary empty frames outline these very aesthetics.

Patti Smith, “the first published poet to move her poetry completely into rock 'n' roll and to entice experimental rock fans into the forbidden cinema of her hallucinatory fantasy” (New York Times), began her musical career unconventionally. It took off at a poetry reading where she was backed by Lenny Kaye on guitar; later star photographer Robert Mapplethorpe financed her punk-rock cult single "Hey Joe". In 1975, encouraged by her success, Patti Smith released "Horses", an album in which she fused rock riffs and spoken rhythms to create a punk-trash sound. The rock scene was electrified, raging about ”the best garage sound of the 70s” (Creem Magazine) and conjectured that Smith had “drawn up material from Rimbaud, Burroughs, Dylan and Velvet Underground into a hot needle and injected it under the skin” (Sounds Magazine). Later productions were dismissed as sentimental and self-loving outpourings, since the rock-poet didn’t continue in the same vein as "Horses", with its metallic harshness and raw language. That’s why this recording remains an impressive unique production by a visionary rock ’n’ roll singer.

“On Des Demonas’ new seven-track EP Cure For Love
there’s a whalloping drum beat driving everything. But
the throbbing, pumping bass, clanging, slashing guitar and
whirling, swirling Farfisa are no mere passengers in this
vehicle! I’m told by the other band members Paul Vivari,
Joe [Halladay], Mark [Cisneros] and Ryan [Hicks] that
vocalist Jacky Cougar Abok is the loudest drummer
they’ve ever heard.
“But here he sings! In motifs. He sings out a beat, he
sings minimalist melodic hooks. He half speaks/half shouts
his lyrical content in rapid fire that is closer to beat poetry
than rap. His voice is insistent and demanding to be heard!
And it is! By having it slightly submerged, the listener is
forced to strain to hear the words because they won’t wanna
miss something important!
“The sonic fuel of the band is a blend of post-punk,
punk, funk, blues, psych-rock, Afrobeat, even bubblegum—
but the noise you hear is pure Des Demonas!
“Titles like the ‘Ballad Of Ike & Tina’ and ‘Black Orpheus
Blues’ add to the intrigue rather than explain the content.
The listener is both confronted and lured by something
bigger than themselves! Desire, intrigue, fear and exuberance
are the rewards to those unable to resist! But will yout
love be cured?
“You could look to Shakespeare, or simpler, you could
buy this record and find out!” —Kim Salmon

"Bunn DeBrett Quintet is back with volume 2 of the eponymous album series of contemporary Jazz. Following on from the success of the critically acclaimed first album released in 2021 which sold out its vinyl run, volume 2 builds on the artistic and creative expressions of Volume 1 to bring together a group of artists to perform on Stephen Bunn and Jon DeBrett's compositions.

Once again featuring the core musicians of Stephen and Jon along with Neil Corcoran, Alan Barnes, Roger Beujolais, and the stunning spoken word vocals of Tenesha the Wordsmith. BDQ vol. 2 also benefits from the contributions of instrumentalists Nathan Haines, Crispin Taylor, Alastair Martin and the poetry of Daniel B. Summerhill.

Across the five tracks of this album this stellar line-up of musicians, composers and artists have created just under 40 minutes of the most fluid and fluent contemporary Jazz you will hear in many a year. Combining the spiritual with the modal and the modern, the atmosphere of this album will capture, enchant and enrapture all true music fans and those whose boundaries are blurred as to be non-existent."

This compilation brings together 22 sound poems, including both pioneering and current pieces, and constitutes itself as the first great overview of sound poetry from Peru. It continues a cycle that began in 2009 with the appearance of a CD called Inventar la voz: Nuevas tradiciones orales To Invent the Voice: New Oral Traditions and was followed up in 2011 with another one called Irse de lengua [To Let It Slip], both of which contributed to articulate diverse manifestations of poetry that used technological means, also in the context of intense activity in the local scenes of experimental music and sound art that opened spaces for interdisciplinary dialogues. What we know as sound poetry is the product of a technological revolution associated with the appearance of various means of recording, transmission and amplification of the voice. A long process that took shape in the 20th century, until it became a discipline, articulated as an international movement which, based on phonetic research, expanded into a universe of oral/vocal artistic practices as part of a new technological context. The recordings gathered here comprise a time frame that goes from 1972 to 2021. We find poems that work with montage techniques, either because they explore simultaneity or juxtaposition, such as those by Mario Montalbetti, Frido Martín, Florentino Díaz, Carlos Estela, Luisa Fernanda Lindo, Macri Cáceres, Rodrigo Vera Cubas, Tilsa Otta, Giancarlo Huapaya/Omar Córdova, Virginia Benavides, Lisa Carrasco and Luis Alvarado. Others emphasize vocal/oral performance: we find the phonetic poems of Carlos Germán Belli and Eduardo Chirinos, as well as the concrete conceptual poems of Michael Prado, Sandra Suazo, Peru Saizprez, and the oral/guttural poem of Omar Aramayo. Finally, we find another group of pieces where the poem starts with the creation of a computational parameter or algorithm, as is the case with the pieces by Jorge Eduardo Eielson and Enrique Verástegui, eventually reaching the use of Artificial Intelligence as in the poems by Francisco Mariotti and Paola Torres Núñez del Prado. The Verbal Matter: An Anthology of Peruvian Sound Poetry is part of a series produced by Buh Records for Centro del Sonido, a website set up as a digital archive of Peruvian experimental music and sound art. The compilation has been made by Luis Alvarado and is published in a limited edition of 300 copies in vinyl format. It includes extensive notes and visual documentation. Mastered by Alberto Cendra. Art by René Sánchez.