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As the sun sets on a quaint East Nashville house, a young man bares a piece of his soul. Facing the camera, sporting a silky suit jacket/shirt/slacks/fingerless gloves ensemble that announces "singer" before he's even opened his mouth, Lee Tracy Johnson settles onto his stage, the front yard. He sways to the dirge-like drum machine pulse of a synth-soaked slow jam, extends his arms as if gaining his balance, and croons in affecting, fragile earnest, "I need your love… oh baby…"

Dogs in the yard next door begin barking. A mysterious cardboard robot figure, beamed in from galaxies unknown and affixed to a tree, is less vocal. Lee doesn't acknowledge either's presence. He's busy feeling it, arms and hands gesticulating. His voice rises in falsetto over the now-quiet dogs, over the ambient noise from the street that seeps into the handheld camcorder's microphone, over the recording of his own voice played back from a boombox off-camera. After six minutes the single, continuous shot ends. In this intimate creative universe there are no re-takes. There are many more music videos to shoot, and as Lee later puts it, "The first time you do it is actually the best. Because you can never get that again. You expressing yourself from within."

"I Need Your Love" dates from a lost heyday. From some time in the '80s or early '90s, when Lee Tracy (as he was known in performance) and his music partner/producer/manager Isaac Manning committed hours upon hours of their sonic and visual ideas to tape. Embracing drum machines and synthesizers – electronics that made their personal futurism palpable – they recorded exclusively at home, live in a room into a simple cassette deck. Soul, funk, electro and new wave informed their songs, yet Lee and Isaac eschewed the confinement of conventional categories and genres, preferring to let experimentation guide them.

"Anytime somebody put out a new record they had the same instruments or the same sound," explains Isaac. "So I basically wanted to find something that's really gonna stand out away from all of the rest of 'em." Their ethos meant that every idea they came up with was at least worth trying: echoed out half-rapped exhortations over frantic techno-style beats, gospel synth soul, modal electro-funk, oddball pop reinterpretations, emo AOR balladry, nods to Prince and the Fat Boys, or arrangements that might collapse mid-song into a mess of arcade game-ish blips before rallying to reach the finish line. All of it conjoined by consistent tape hiss, and most vitally, Lee's chameleonic voice, which managed to wildly shape shift and still evoke something sincere – whether toggling between falsetto and tenor exalting Jesus's return, or punctuating a melismatic romantic adlib with a succinct, "We all know how it feels to be alone."

"People think we went to a studio," says Isaac derisively. "We never went to no studio. We didn't have the money to go to no studio! We did this stuff at home. I shot videos in my front yard with whatever we could to get things together." Sometimes Isaac would just put on an instrumental record, be it "Planet Rock" or "Don't Cry For Me Argentina" (from Evita), press "record," and let Lee improvise over it, yielding peculiar love songs, would-be patriotic anthems, or Elvis Presley or Marilyn Monroe tributes. Technical limitations and a lack of professional polish never dissuaded them. They believed they were onto something.

"That struggle," Isaac says, "made that sound sound good to me."

In the parlance of modern music criticism Lee and Isaac's dizzying DIY efforts would inevitably be described as "outsider." But "outsider" carries the burden of untold additional layers of meaning if you're Black and from the South, creating on a budget, and trying to get someone, anyone within the country music capital of the world to take your vision seriously. "What category should we put it in?" Isaac asks rhetorically. "I don't know. All I know is feeling. I ain't gonna name it nothing. It's music. If it grabs your soul and touch your heart that's what it basically is supposed to do."

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Born in 1963, the baby boy of nine siblings, Lee Tracy spent his earliest years living amidst the shotgun houses on Nashville's south side. "We was poor, man!" he says, recalling the outhouse his family used for a bathroom and the blocks of ice they kept in the kitchen to chill perishables. "But I actually don't think I really realized I was in poverty until I got grown and started thinking about it." Lee's mom worked at the Holiday Inn; his dad did whatever he had to do, from selling fruit from a horse drawn cart to bootlegging. "We didn't have much," Lee continues, "but my mother and my father got us the things we needed, the clothes on our back." By the end of the decade with the city's urban renewal programs razing entire neighborhoods to accommodate construction of the Interstate, the family moved to Edgehill Projects. Lee remembers music and art as a constant source of inspiration for he and his brothers and sisters – especially after seeing the Jackson 5 perform on Ed Sullivan. "As a small child I just knew that was what I wanted to do."

His older brother Don began musically mentoring him, introducing Lee to a variety of instruments and sounds. "He would never play one particular type of music, like R&B," says Lee. "I was surrounded by jazz, hard rock and roll, easy listening, gospel, reggae, country music; I mean I was a sponge absorbing all of that." Lee taught himself to play drums by beating on cardboard boxes, gaining a rep around the way for his timekeeping, and his singing voice. Emulating his favorites, Earth Wind & Fire and Cameo, he formed groups with other kids with era-evocative band names like Concept and TNT Connection, and emerged as the leader of disciplined rehearsals. "I made them practice," says Lee. "We practiced and practiced and practiced. Because I wanted that perfection." By high school the most accomplished of these bands would take top prize in a prominent local talent show. It was a big moment for Lee, and he felt ready to take things to the next level. But his band-mates had other ideas.

"I don't know what happened," he says, still miffed at the memory. "It must have blew they mind after we won and people started showing notice, because it's like everybody quit! I was like, where the hell did everybody go?" Lee had always made a point of interrogating prospective musicians about their intentions before joining his groups: were they really serious or just looking for a way to pick up girls? Now he understood even more the importance of finding a collaborator just as committed to the music as he was.

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Isaac Manning had spent much of his life immersed in music and the arts – singing in the church choir with his family on Nashville's north side, writing, painting, dancing, and working various gigs within the entertainment industry. After serving in the armed forces, in the early '70s he ran The Teenage Place, a music and performance venue that catered to the local youth. But he was forced out of town when word of one of his recreational routines created a stir beyond the safe haven of his bohemian circles.

"I was growing marijuana," Isaac explains. "It wasn't no business, I was smoking it myself… I would put marijuana in scrambled eggs, cornbread and stuff." His weed use originated as a form of self-medication to combat severe tooth pain. But when he began sharing it with some of the other young people he hung out with, some of who just so happened to be the kids of Nashville politicians, the cops came calling. "When I got busted," he remembers, "they were talking about how they were gonna get rid of me because they didn't want me saying nothing about they children because of the politics and stuff. So I got my family, took two raggedy cars, and left Nashville and went to Vegas."

Out in the desert, Isaac happened to meet Chubby Checker of "The Twist" fame while the singer was gigging at The Flamingo. Impressed by Isaac's zeal, Checker invited him to go on the road with him as his tour manager/roadie/valet. The experience gave Isaac a window into a part of the entertainment world he'd never encountered – a glimpse of what a true pop act's audience looked like. "Chubby Checker, none of his shows were played for Black folks," he remembers. "All his gigs were done at high-class white people areas." Returning home after a few years with Chubby, Isaac was properly motivated to make it in Music City. He began writing songs and scouting around Nashville for local talent anywhere he could find it with an expressed goal: "Find someone who can deliver your songs the way you want 'em delivered and make people feel what you want them to feel."

One day while walking through Edgehill Projects Isaac heard someone playing the drums in a way that made him stop and take notice. "The music was so tight, just the drums made me feel like, oh I'm-a find this person," he recalls. "So I circled through the projects until I found who it was.

"That's how I met him – Lee Tracy. When I found him and he started singing and stuff, I said, ohhh, this is somebody different."

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Theirs was a true complementary partnership: young Lee possessed the raw talent, the older Isaac the belief. "He's really the only one besides my brother and my family that really seen the potential in me," says Lee. "He made me see that I could do it."

Isaac long being a night owl, his house also made for a fertile collaborative environment – a space where there always seemed to be a new piece of his visual art on display: paintings, illustrations, and dolls and figures (including an enigmatic cardboard robot). Lee and Issac would hang out together and talk, listen to music, conjure ideas, and smoke the herb Isaac had resumed growing in his yard. "It got to where I could trust him, he could trust me," Isaac says of their bond. They also worked together for hours on drawings, spreading larges rolls of paper on the walls and sketching faces with abstract patterns and imagery: alien-like beings, tri-horned horse heads, inverted Janus-like characters where one visage blurred into the other.

Soon it became apparent that they didn't need other collaborators; self-sufficiency was the natural way forward. At Isaac's behest Lee, already fed up with dealing with band musicians, began playing around with a poly-sonic Yamaha keyboard at the local music store. "It had everything on it – trumpet, bass, drums, organ," remembers Lee. "And that's when I started recording my own stuff."

The technology afforded Lee the flexibility and independence he craved, setting him on a path other bedroom musicians and producers around the world were simultaneously following through the '80s into the early '90s. Saving up money from day jobs, he eventually supplemented the Yamaha Isaac had gotten him with Roland and Casio drum machines and a Moog. Lee was living in an apartment in Hillside at that point caring for his dad, who'd been partially paralyzed since early in life. In the evenings up in his second floor room, the music put him in a zone where he could tune out everything and lose himself in his ideas.

"Oh I loved it," he recalls. "I would really experiment with the instruments and use a lot of different sound effects. I was looking for something nobody else had. I wanted something totally different. And once I found the sound I was looking for, I would just smoke me a good joint and just let it go, hit the record button." More potent a creative stimulant than even Isaac's weed was the holistic flow and spontaneity of recording. Between sessions at Isaac's place and Lee's apartment, their volume of output quickly ballooned.

"We was always recording," says Lee. "That's why we have so much music. Even when I went to Isaac's and we start creating, I get home, my mind is racing, I gotta start creating, creating, creating. I remember there were times when I took a 90-minute tape from front to back and just filled it up."

"We never practiced," says Isaac. "See, that was just so odd about the whole thing. I could relate to him, and tell him about the songs I had ideas for and everything and stuff. And then he would bring it back or whatever, and we'd get together and put it down." Once the taskmaster hell bent on rehearsing, Lee had flipped a full 180. Perfection was no longer an aspiration, but the enemy of inspiration.

"I seen where practicing and practicing got me," says Lee. "A lot of musicians you get to playing and they gotta stop, they have to analyze the music. But while you analyzing you losing a lot of the greatness of what you creating. Stop analyzing what you play, just play! And it'll all take shape."

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"I hope you understood the beginning of the record because this was invented from a dream I had today… (You tell me, I'll tell you, we'll figure it out together)" – Lee Tracy and Isaac Manning, "Hope You Understand"

Lee lets loose a maniacal cackle when he acknowledges that the material that he and Isaac recorded was by anyone's estimation pretty out there. It's the same laugh that commences "Hope You Understand" – a chaotic transmission that encapsulates the duality at the heart of their music: a stated desire to reach people and a compulsion to go as leftfield as they saw fit.

"We just did it," says Lee. "We cut the music on and cut loose. I don't sit around and write. I do it by listening, get a feeling, play the music, and the lyrics and stuff just come out of me."

The approach proved adaptable to interpreting other artists' material. While recording a cover of Whitney Houston's pop ballad "Saving All My Love For You," Lee played Whitney's version in his headphones as he laid down his own vocals – partially following the lyrics, partially using them as a departure point. The end result is barely recognizable compared with the original, Lee and Isaac having switched up the time signature and reinvented the melody along the way towards morphing a slick mainstream radio standard into something that sounds solely their own.

"I really used that song to get me started," says Lee. "Then I said, well I need something else, something is missing. Something just came over me. That's when I came up with 'Is It What You Want.'"

The song would become the centerpiece of Lee and Isaac's repertoire. Pushed along by a percolating metronomic Rhythm King style beat somewhere between a military march and a samba, "Is It What You Want" finds Lee pleading the sincerity of his commitment to a potential love interest embellished by vocal tics and hiccups subtlely reminiscent of his childhood hero MJ. Absent chord changes, only synth riffs gliding in and out like apparitions, the song achieves a lingering lo-fi power that leaves you feeling like it's still playing, somewhere, even after the fade out.

"I don't know, it's like a real spiritual song," Lee reflects. "But it's not just spiritual. To me the more I listen to it it's like about everything that you do in your everyday life, period. Is it what you want? Do you want a car or you don't want a car? Do you want Jesus or do you want the Devil? It's basically asking you the question. Can't nobody answer the question but you yourself."

In 1989 Lee won a lawsuit stemming from injuries sustained from a fight he'd gotten into. He took part of the settlement money and with Isaac pressed up "Saving All My Love For You" b/w "Is It What You Want" as a 45 single. Isaac christened the label One Chance Records. "Because that's all we wanted," he says with a laugh, "one chance."

Isaac sent the record out to radio stations and major labels, hoping for it to make enough noise to get picked up nationally. But the response he and Lee were hoping for never materialized. According to Isaac the closest the single got to getting played on the radio is when a disk jock from a local station made a highly unusual announcement on air: "The dude said on the radio, 107.5 – 'We are not gonna play 'Is It What You Want.' We cracked up! Wow, that's deep.

"It was a whole racist thing that was going on," he reflects. "So we just looked over and kept on going. That was it. That was about the way it goes… If you were Black and you were living in Nashville and stuff, that's the way you got treated." Isaac already knew as much from all the times he'd brought he and Lee's tapes (even their cache of country music tunes) over to Music Row to try to drum up interest to no avail.

"Isaac, he really worked his ass off," says Lee. "He probably been to every record place down on Music Row." Nashville's famed recording and music business corridor wasn't but a few blocks from where Lee grew up. Close enough, he remembers, for him to ride his bike along its back alleys and stumble upon the occasional random treasure, like a discarded box of harmonicas. Getting in through the front door, however, still felt a world away.

"I just don't think at the time our music fell into a category for them," he concedes. "It was before its time."

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Lee stopped making music some time in the latter part of the '90s, around the time his mom passed away and life became increasingly tough to manage. "When my mother died I had a nervous breakdown," he says, "So I shut down for a long time. I was in such a sadness frame of mind. That's why nobody seen me. I had just disappeared off the map." He fell out of touch with Isaac, and in an indication of just how bad things had gotten for him, lost track of all the recordings they'd made together. Music became a distant memory.

Fortunately, Isaac kept the faith. In a self-published collection of his poetry – paeans to some of his favorite entertainment and public figures entitled Friends and Dick Clark – he'd written that he believed "music has a life of its own." But his prescience and presence of mind were truly manifested in the fact that he kept an archive of he and Lee's work. As perfectly imperfect as "Is It What You Want" now sounds in a post-Personal Space world, Lee and Isaac's lone official release was in fact just a taste. The bulk of the Is It What You Want album is culled from the pair's essentially unheard home recordings – complete songs, half-realized experiments, Isaac's blue monologues and pronouncements et al – compiled, mixed and programmed in the loose and impulsive creative spirit of their regular get-togethers from decades ago. The rest of us, it seems, may have finally caught up to them.

On the prospect of at long last reaching a wider audience, Isaac says simply, "I been trying for a long time, it feels good." Ever the survivor, he adds, "The only way I know how to make it to the top is to keep climbing. If one leg break on the ladder, hey, you gotta fix it and keep on going… That's where I be at. I'll kill death to make it out there."

For Lee it all feels akin to a personal resurrection: "It's like I was in a tomb and the tomb was opened and I'm back… Man, it feels so great. I feel like I'm gonna jump out of my skin." Success at this stage of his life, he realizes, probably means something different than what it did back when he was singing and dancing in Isaac's front yard. "What I really mean by 'making it,'" he explains isn't just the music being heard but, "the story being told."

Occasionally Lee will pull up "Is It What You Want" on YouTube on his phone, put on his headphones, and listen. He remembers the first time he heard his recorded voice. How surreal it was, how he thought to himself, "Is that really me?" What would he say to that younger version of himself now?

"I would probably tell myself, hang in there, don't give up. Keep striving for the goal. And everything will work out."

Despite what's printed on the record label, sometimes you do get more than one chance.

LIMITED 180GM BLACK VINYL INCLUDES DOWNLOAD CARD WITH 8 BONUS TRACKS. GATEFOLD + BOOKLET INCLUDED.

During this feverish time, founding member Guy Smith was motivated to make music that reveled in always trying out different things. Normil Hawaiians was a very fluid ensemble at this point, Guy often accompanied by Kev Armstrong and Jim Lusted encouraged saxophones, violins, synths, pianos and a select pack of female backing singers to take their post-punk sound into wilder directions. One of the earliest line-ups of Normil Hawaiians featured a 15-year old Janet Armstrong on vocals alongside Guy, ‘Ventilation’ best showcases her deadpan digressions. Janet went on to sing alongside David Bowie a few years later on his breathtaking mid-80’s gem ‘Absolute Beginners’. By this point Kev Armstrong was also guesting for Bowie on guitar duties too.

Another guest to join the ranks of Normil Hawaiians during this fertile time of cross-pollination was Bertie Marshall (aka Berlin of the proto-punk Bromley Contingent). ‘Sang Sang’ is a good example of how he was inspired to deliver his poetic treatises over the band’s atmospheric, floating improvisations. Bertie’s impressionistic influence helped the group uncouple further from rock tropes, as they became restless and more rhythmically-focused. ‘Still Obedient’ fidgets, soars and careens across the dancefloor, “if you’re ahead close your eyes, you won’t notice the subtitles” chants Guy.

By the end of this transformative two years Normil Hawaiians had spun an exceptional chrysalis around themselves. The dark world surrounding wouldn’t win out, they’d eaten-up the music and grown continuously, wrote and recorded rapidly, covered Zappa & even David Lynch and could feel the light beginning to shine through. ‘Dark World’ is a snapshot of a band in flux, finding their feet, stretching their limbs. Normil Hawaiians cover an awful amount of ground in such a short time-frame on this record and these tracks document all the glittering debris from their magpie’s nest. Emergent, hopeful and resistant in sound and ethic.

Three years after Reno Wurzbacher’s entry into the series, Cook Strummer now offers up his own Berlin Gets Physical, a collection of all-new and exclusive tracks.

Berlin-based, Belgium-born Strummer has been a Get Physical associate for several years. He has dropped various singles including the standout 'Rising' which also featured on the Words Don't Come Easy series, and always crafts the perfect mix of rhythm and melody with plenty of hints of his homeland's famous cold wave sound. He often uses his own voice, drum machines, synths and guitars in his music, and since his debut album in 2018 on LOK Recordings, he has had high profile support from the likes of Laurent Garnier, Adam Port and Ame. This summer, he dropped 'Atmosphere' on Obsolet Records which proved another successful outing and now Berlin Gets Physical finds him digging deep into the famous city's freshest and most essential house sounds across 15 well-sequenced tracks.

His own new offering 'For Berlin' kicks off with a dark and edgy vibe, gothic vocals and tense drums. Glitchy hits and blurting synths add to the prickly atmosphere and immediately lock you in while Los Cabra & Manuel Sahagun's 'Italian Groove' then takes off on waves of serrated dark disco synths and Freudenthal feat. Nowhere People continue that macho disco vibe with the rugged chug and cosmic rays of 'Cipher.'

The twinkling 'Bad Karma' by Marvin Jam & Le Mythe then allows you to catch your breath with a slower, more spacious dub disco sound and the twanging bass riffs and exotic effects of Daniel Jaeger & Valenti's 'Quarantine Cowboys' rebuilds the atmosphere with some innovative house blues. The mid-section brings brain-frying synth work on 'Out Of The Blue', bubbling dub house and disco courtesy of dramasquad's sprawling 'ziggy' and percussive deep house looseness from 'Abayomi.'

After KEENE's rubbery and rolling Afro sounds comes more cosmic house richness from Dan Buri and Max Joni & MUKKIMIAU, the driving tech of Red Pig Flower & Lulla and heady sounds of Mike Book. There is a raw house heaviness to FreedomB's 'State of Shock' and things shut down with Electronic Elephant's tightly coiled minimal drum funk on 'Ask Yourself'.

This on point collection is an authentic snapshot of the contemporary underground sound of the Berlin.

Lindenberg Support is the man behind 'Ode To Gallantry', a complex and emotional tale of mistaken identity, trust and honor.

The story begins with the beggar Shi Po Tian, aka the Bastard, stealing a bun which contains the Black Iron Token, created by skilled pugilist Xie Yanke, which grants the holder one wish. 'C20/25' and its pounding and pacy rhythmics, carrying pads and heavy hitting vibe, perfectly set the journey's energetic and warm tone.

Xie appears yearly, demanding that the clans repay in blood for any heinous act they committed throughout the year. The only way that a rude clan can avoid the cull is for the clan's leader to sacrifice himself for them. With 'SKS (101)' and its soothing and floating pads carrying the gentle lo-fi drums, the story heats up and evolves to a deeper intricacy.

Fearing that Bastard might make him promise to stop his annual harvest of death, Xie spirits him away and trains him in martial arts so powerful that he is certain it will kill him, but instead, it makes him strong and resilient. The uplifting pads in 'Gate', supported by a reckless broken beat and pinging vocals, create a celestial vibe that pushes Bastard to his limits.

He is rescued by the Chang Lo Clan that mistakes him for their villainous leader Shi Zhongyu and then treats him as their boss. With each case of mistaken identity, he becomes drawn into a number of heated conflicts between several rival schools and gangs - a dilemma that he just isn't prepared to deal with. The dreamy ambiance of 'Kinda Weak' and its well-wrought drum pattern slowly shroud the memories of his old life.

The final point is set with 'Pol-1 (For Stefan)' - an emotive and profound ambient piece to close the story. He's sure to learn some valuable lessons about brotherhood and honor, but at what price?

"The whole point of this record was to share every emotion that I feel," sagt THE SOFT MOON aka Luis Vasquez. "No two songs are the same. It's about existing in the world as a human being and experiencing many emotions and experiences throughout life." Daher auch der Titel "Exister", ein Album, das von den ekstatischen Freuden und lähmenden Tiefen des Lebens handelt und davon, dass das Durchhalten und die Existenz manchmal alles ist, was wir haben. Der Grund, warum das Album für Vasquez so persönlich ist, liegt darin, dass sich sein Leben während der Entstehung des Albums stark verändert hat. Er verließ Berlin, sein langjähriges Zuhause, und zog in den Joshua Tree, um während des Lockdowns musikalisch und persönlich etwas Freiraum zu finden. Es fühlt sich wie eine Art musikalischer Neustart für Vasquez an. Das Cover des Albums zeigt ein Foto von Vasquez als Kind und steht stellvertretend für eine Platte, bei der es darum ging, sich wieder mit seinem jüngeren Ich zu verbinden, wobei eine Mutter-Sohn-Beziehung im Mittelpunkt des Albums steht. "It's my child self that you hear all over it," sagt er. "I was reminiscing and hurting a lot during the writing process. This is possibly my most vulnerable record yet." Doch trotz des Schmerzes, der Wut, der Verletzlichkeit und des Schmerzes, die im Kern dieser Platte zu finden sind, gibt es auch ein tiefes Gefühl von Hoffnung und Schönheit. Auf dem abschließenden Titel-Song "Exister" scheint das Album einen Ort des Friedens und des Trostes zu erreichen und endet mit einem ruhigen, nachdenklichen und ergreifenden Moment, der ein Gefühl des Optimismus nach einer Zeit des Umbruchs einfängt.

"The whole point of this record was to share every emotion that I feel," sagt THE SOFT MOON aka Luis Vasquez. "No two songs are the same. It's about existing in the world as a human being and experiencing many emotions and experiences throughout life." Daher auch der Titel "Exister", ein Album, das von den ekstatischen Freuden und lähmenden Tiefen des Lebens handelt und davon, dass das Durchhalten und die Existenz manchmal alles ist, was wir haben. Der Grund, warum das Album für Vasquez so persönlich ist, liegt darin, dass sich sein Leben während der Entstehung des Albums stark verändert hat. Er verließ Berlin, sein langjähriges Zuhause, und zog in den Joshua Tree, um während des Lockdowns musikalisch und persönlich etwas Freiraum zu finden. Es fühlt sich wie eine Art musikalischer Neustart für Vasquez an. Das Cover des Albums zeigt ein Foto von Vasquez als Kind und steht stellvertretend für eine Platte, bei der es darum ging, sich wieder mit seinem jüngeren Ich zu verbinden, wobei eine Mutter-Sohn-Beziehung im Mittelpunkt des Albums steht. "It's my child self that you hear all over it," sagt er. "I was reminiscing and hurting a lot during the writing process. This is possibly my most vulnerable record yet." Doch trotz des Schmerzes, der Wut, der Verletzlichkeit und des Schmerzes, die im Kern dieser Platte zu finden sind, gibt es auch ein tiefes Gefühl von Hoffnung und Schönheit. Auf dem abschließenden Titel-Song "Exister" scheint das Album einen Ort des Friedens und des Trostes zu erreichen und endet mit einem ruhigen, nachdenklichen und ergreifenden Moment, der ein Gefühl des Optimismus nach einer Zeit des Umbruchs einfängt.

With his Arjunamusic label and a growing catalog of category-defying releases, Samuel Rohrer
continues to quietly, yet confidently, make a name for himself as a genuinely unique figure within
the European electronic music realm. Over the past decade he has assembled a repertoire of
music that fills a sadly neglected gap in the modern musical landscape. That is to say, he has
made a number of “electronically”-aided works that never seem to make “electronic-ism” the main
selling point or raison d'être. Rohrer understands that we inhabit a networked media landscape
that no longer sees a novelty value in every synthetic or technological sound, and by realizing
this, he makes a music that fully engages with the present without completely disregarding the
exciting speculative sensibility that has allowed electronic music to solidify into a tradition. His
latest solo album, Hungry Ghosts, again shows the high quality of sonic design that can be
achieved by conceptualizing musical passages as living, breathing entities rather than as
signposts to some still distant reality.
Maybe more so than any of Rohrer’s solo records to date, Hungry Ghosts is the one that
most unambiguously displays the artist as a kind of inspired sound “cultivator” or landscaper
rather than just a straightforward “producer”. The emphasis here seems to be biological growth
processes rendered in musical form, and in fact some track titles namechecking the biodiversity
of the external world (“Slow Fox”, “Ctenophora”) and neurochemistry (“Serotonin”) lend some
additional credence to this interpretation.
As with previous outings, Rohrer starts with his skills as a genre-resistant percussionist
and builds from there, with dense clusters of drum hits and icy cymbal exclamations leading the
way into a wide-open atmosphere full of fragmented phrases, marked with strange reversals or
compressions of time. The percussive portions and other ambiences merge together in such a
way that the latter seems like a kind of shifting, holographic camouflage for the former; an effect
which makes for a greater than usual number of shifts in mood. Rohrer’s already established
ambiguity and mystery are the moods that permeate throughout, to be sure, but there are also
surprising moments of humorous whimsy (the flourishes of cartoon mischief and teasing silences
on the tracks “Human Regression” and “Bodylanguage”), reverence (the optimistic organ swells
and steady sequencer guiding “Ceremonism”), and meditative focus (the slow-motion spectral
waltz of “Treehouse”). Also notable here are very brief etudes, such as “Window Pain,” whose
dark, lush ebb and flow actually seem tailored to repeated or looped listening.
It’s particularly remarkable that almost all of this material is recorded solo and in a “live /
no overdubs” mode, given how much it feels like well-rehearsed ensemble playing, and given the
impeccable timing involved in continually exchanging the sounds at the very forefront of the mix.
And here we come full circle to the idea of “electronic music” mentioned at the beginning here:
instead of making us feel that we are in the presence of some fully-realized form brought back
from “the future,” Rohrer invites us instead to witness fascinating processes of transition and
mutation, and to value them for what they are now as much as for where they are headed.

Micah is a special one. His playing has a restlessly inventive and futuristic tilt while simultaneously remaining deeply rooted in the history of the music – all delivered with curiosity, patience, humor and care. I make a point to hear him as often as I can, as he always inspires and is constantly evolving. Micah is one of the most exciting musicians of his generation. One who has a unique style as well as all the tools needed to make a major contribution to the world of jazz piano.

"When we decided to produce Micah Thomas, the project involved a recording of five titles only. In the first part of an approximately one hour session, Micah beautifully played first takes of up to ten titles, with fantastic artistic fervor and great freshness. Taken by surprise, joy and admiration, we decided on the spur of the moment to change our initial plans, so we could capture the magic of that


session for a little longer. Here is the result, a 12 titles double vinyl that takes you back to October 31st, 2020 at Big Orange Sheep studio in Brooklyn, NY. Twelve songs when we encountered the art of Micah Thomas as a solo pianist for the first time."

Oslo's Ultima Festival for contemporary music in 2014. The idea was to give revered Norwegian experimental electronic musician Helge Sten, aka Deathprod, access to seminal avant-garde composer Harry Partch's self-designed, custom-made, specialized, invented instruments - an orchestra tuned to just intonation, using up to 43 intervals instead of the standard 12 for the most commonly used Western equal temperament. An artist with a 30+ year career and an uncompromising reputation that reflects the emotional specificity of his uneasy, yet compelling sound, maintained throughout his expansive discography, Sten was an intriguing choice for such a project. Although he attended art school, training in electronic music and sound art, he had little experience with acoustic instruments and can neither read nor write music notation. Yet he's been engaged with Partch's music, and outsider art more generally, since he was a teenager. His resulting piece/composition for the project was originally intended only for performance by Cologne-based Ensemble Musikfabrik, for a series of concerts in five European cities between 2015 and 2018. It's Musikfabrik that undertook the painstaking, expensive process of building an entire set of the composer's creations - the second only to the originals built by Partch himself. They are the professional musicians and virtuosic instrumentalists that had to re-train and re-educate on these unknown and experimental sound sculptures in non-standard tunings. And they house this large, gorgeous physical instrumentarium and deal with the enormous logistics of working with it, sometimes shipping the fragile pieces to other locales via semi-trucks or ships. Because of such monumental efforts, Musikfabrik are notoriously guarded with recordings of the instruments. And rightly so. They're the only ones allowed to perform on them, too. But Sow Your Gold isn't Musikfabrik playing. Instead, Sten spent days and nights alone with the instrumentarium in Cologne. He played the instruments himself while recording, layering the recordings and editing without effects to compose an `audio score' for Musikfabrik to work from in order for the ensemble to perform the piece. (Partch also regularly worked this way, although he would transcribe afterwards. Likewise, Sten worked with a professional arranger to create a detailed score, too.) So, that makes Sow Your Gold an even less likely rarity - partly why its release comes seven years after its creation. If you ask Sten about the album's title, he'll point you to the text he borrowed it from - Michael Maier's Atalanta Fugiens by H.M.E. De Jong, a 1969 study of a 1617 book of alchemical emblems - and notable passages dealing with alchemy, chemistry, and agriculture, all transformative processes. And while that may sound complicated, his takeaway is simple: "You have to break something down to create something new," - a lesson he felt related strongly to his own musical process, especially in this project. So, while Sow Your Gold in the White Foliated Earth is a piece written for specific, oddly tuned, extremely rare and unusual instruments, and for a certain ensemble - namely, some of the finest contemporary musicians in Europe - Sten grew fond of the audio score, recognizing it as coming directly from the creative process in its purest, most natural form. And so from a foliated earth, where obscure tradition, treasured scarcity, immense effort, and patient certainty layer and criss-cross, comes rugged gold, polished to shining by one outsider for another.

Black White Splatter Vinyl

When two musicians intensively work together for a period of time, at some point the whole becomes greater than the sum of its parts. If Paul Boex and Dave Miller hadn't already reached that status under their Abstract Division moniker, they certainly have now, with the release of Midnight Ensemble, their first full length album.

Those who have followed the duo since their early days of playing dj-sets together, know that it's hard to define their style anywhere beyond techno or even electronic music, as it is ever evolving and always dependent on the time of the day or night. When listening to this album, the resemblance between their unpredictable selection behind the decks and the eclectic range of subgenres on this album is more obvious than ever before. Midnight Ensemble could be interpreted as an ode to nightlife; a reminiscence of all that happens between dusk and dawn, captured and compressed into about one hour of music. An hour in which they so delicately time their changing of styles and tempos, always reading the room and always being one step ahead of the crowd.

This album is a reflection of that skill, starting its journey with soothing, moodsetting ambient, followed by timeless pieces of Detroit and dubtechno. A daring electro cut providing a refreshing break from the four to the floor tradition, only to be followed by the stripped down sound the duo is so comfortable with.

The final minutes consist of experimental breaks, one last banger to pull out the last bits of energy that is left and a beautiful outro, which concludes the allnighter vibe. There are no open endings, it doesn't make you want to stay in the dark forever. Rather it makes you want to close your eyes one last time before walking outside to see the sun come up again before going home, overwhelmed and satisfied.

New edition on Opaque Cream Vinyl, (CLMN12044LPC3) is for Indies only. For Fans of: Menahan Street Band, The Budos Band, Antibalas, El Michels Affair. The Sure Fire Soul Ensemble are definitely on a roll coming off of their third LP, Build Bridges, which debuted at #1 on Billboard's Contemporary Jazz Chart. Their new and fourth LP, Step Down, is a direct reflection of the heavy times they were written and recorded in. Covid-19, two Presidential impeachment trials, the George Floyd murder and resulting social unrest, a seditious attempt to subvert the democratic process at The Capitol… With titles like Step Down, The Other Side, Time To Rebuild, Omnificent, Love Age, and In Common, SFSE uses their music to beautifully paint a picture of societal woes, but also points toward the solution and a better world. Heavy Cinematic Soul, spiritual Jazz-Funk, upbeat Afro-Funk, and deeply introspective rare-groove cuts lace this ten-track transmission vessel. SFSE is deeply defined by the sum of their influences, but always have their eye focused beyond the horizon as well. We think this album will capture your heart immediately, but also provide the depth for discovery upon repeated listens. SFSE have made a true statement here, and we are very proud to present Step Down to the world.

Dan Álvarez de Toledo and Jordan Dunn-Pilz have a special bond. Growing up in Newburyport, Massachusetts, the two were fast and unshakable friends through sleepovers, school choir practices, and discovering formative bands, to the point that now, as roommates in Brooklyn, they finish each other’s sentences. This shared history and obvious love for each other are tangible in their songwriting project TOLEDO, named after the Spanish town and Álvarez’s familial namesake. Their music, which is full of seamless harmonies throughout, skirts the softer edges of indie rock and the darker fringes of pop with each song imbuing a heaping dose of vulnerability and emotional openness. On How It Ends, their debut album which is out September 23 via Grand Jury Music, the two dive into each other’s family histories and traumas as they navigate their own lives as twenty-something musicians. These tracks are striking for their blunt honesty but also for the way Álvarez and Dunn-Pilz’s real-life chemistry translates on record: the 12 songs are as tender as a warm hug and as clarifying as a needed reality check. This LP is the product of deep self-reflection and the necessary hard work that comes with any relationship.

Dan Álvarez de Toledo and Jordan Dunn-Pilz have a special bond. Growing up in Newburyport, Massachusetts, the two were fast and unshakable friends through sleepovers, school choir practices, and discovering formative bands, to the point that now, as roommates in Brooklyn, they finish each other’s sentences. This shared history and obvious love for each other are tangible in their songwriting project TOLEDO, named after the Spanish town and Álvarez’s familial namesake. Their music, which is full of seamless harmonies throughout, skirts the softer edges of indie rock and the darker fringes of pop with each song imbuing a heaping dose of vulnerability and emotional openness. On How It Ends, their debut album which is out September 23 via Grand Jury Music, the two dive into each other’s family histories and traumas as they navigate their own lives as twenty-something musicians. These tracks are striking for their blunt honesty but also for the way Álvarez and Dunn-Pilz’s real-life chemistry translates on record: the 12 songs are as tender as a warm hug and as clarifying as a needed reality check. This LP is the product of deep self-reflection and the necessary hard work that comes with any relationship.

"Do you know SUCK?" "Yup, had to see them live!" That's about how the conversations go when you ask around in the punk-informed part of the circle of friends. At least in Berlin and the surrounding area, where for some the first musical contact took place in the Berghain Kantine in the support of Amyl and The Sniffers, for whose 2019 tour SUCK gave the support. No easy stand actually - and because they convinced there, the punk band from Kassel left a lasting impression. Which, in a text like this, inevitably leads to the question: Is it actually a curse or a blessing for the promotion of a debut album to be a fantastic live band? Instead of a far-reaching, finely chiseled, cultural journalistic answer, it is recommended at this point to simply turn up the opener "Rip It"

"Do you know SUCK?" "Yup, had to see them live!" That's about how the conversations go when you ask around in the punk-informed part of the circle of friends. At least in Berlin and the surrounding area, where for some the first musical contact took place in the Berghain Kantine in the support of Amyl and The Sniffers, for whose 2019 tour SUCK gave the support. No easy stand actually - and because they convinced there, the punk band from Kassel left a lasting impression. Which, in a text like this, inevitably leads to the question: Is it actually a curse or a blessing for the promotion of a debut album to be a fantastic live band? Instead of a far-reaching, finely chiseled, cultural journalistic answer, it is recommended at this point to simply turn up the opener "Rip It"

Joni Mitchell was at a turning point 50 years ago. After making four acclaimed albums with Reprise Records, including her 1971 masterpiece Blue, she left the label to join the brand-new Asylum Records in 1972. Over the next seven years, Mitchell would record some of the most acclaimed music of her career while changing her musical direction by adding more jazz elements into her song writing. The evolution culminated in 1979 with Mingus, her collaboration with jazz titan Charles Mingus, and her studio last album for Asylum.

The Asylum Albums (1972-1975), the next instalment in the Joni Mitchell archive series, explores the beginning of that prolific era. The collection features newly remastered versions of For The Roses (1972), Court And Spark (1974), the double live album Miles Of Aisles (1974), and The Hissing Of Summer Lawns (1975). All four were recently remastered by Bernie Grundman. The Asylum Albums (1972-1975 will be available on 23rd September on 5-LP 180-gram vinyl (Limited Edition Of 20,000) and as a 4CD set. The cover art for the set features a previously unseen painting by Mitchell. The set also includes an essay by friend and fellow Canadian Neil Young.

The Asylum Albums (1972-1975), follows Mitchell’s musical evolution over four albums as she embraced more jazz-inspired pieces and moved away from the folk and pop of her early years. It includes essential tracks like her first Top 40 hit, “You Turn Me On, I’m A Radio” and her highest-charting (#7) single “Help Me,” plus favourites like “Free Man In Paris,” “Raised On Robbery” and “In France They Kiss On Main Street.” Mitchell has been intimately involved in producing the collection, lending her vision and personal touch to every element.













l b6. Judgement Of The Moon And Stars (Ludwig’s Tune) 2022 Remaster











[x] e1. You Turn Me On I’m A Radio (Live) [2022 Remaster]
[y] e2. Big Yellow Taxi (Live) [2022 Remaster]
[2022 Remaster]
[xa] e4. Woodstock (Live) [2022 Remaster]
[xb] f1. Cactus Tree (Live) [2022 Remaster]
[xc] f2. Cold Blue Steel And Sweet Fire (Live) [2022 Remaster]
[xd] f3. Woman Of Heart And Mind (Live) [2022 Remaster]
[xe] f4. A Case Of You (Live) [2022 Remaster]
[xf] f5. Blue (Live) [2022 Remaster]
[xg] g1. Circle Game (Live) [2022 Remaster]
[xh] g2. People’s Parties (Live) [2022 Remaster]
[xi] g3. All I Want (Live) [2022 Remaster]
[xj] g4. Real Good For Free (Live) [2022 Remaster]
[xk] g5. Both Sides Now (Live) [2022 Remaster]
[xl] h1. Carey (Live) [2022 Remaster]
[xm] h2. The Last Time I Saw Richard (Live) [2022 Remaster]
[xn] h3. Jericho (Live) [2022 Remaster]
[xo] h4. Love Or Money (Live) [2022 Remaster]

DARK MEDITATION may hail from Seattle, but their sound is steeped in
traditions associated with other corners of the globe'England's workingclass cities, frosty Scandinavian towns, Southern California meccas of
the '80s
Or as the band puts it, DARK MEDITATION sounds like the bastard amalgamation
of Venom and Judas Priest fighting it out on the Sunset Strip while Danzig and
King Diamond cheer them on. While such reference points may suggest a nexus
of evil kitsch and arena-level theatrics, the band's debut album Polluted Temples
comes from a place of down- and- out urgency and punk ethics, adopting the
gloomy anthems and riff worship of heavy metal titans for their sonic exorcisms
rather than their rock n' roll panache. It's an album that basks in big hooks,
righteous guitar work, and an arena-level stomp without compromising any grit,
grime, or guts.
Tracks: Prelude / Babalon.Money.Magick / Haunt of Fear / Strange Caress (of the
night) / Masters Coil / Desolation Days / The Howling Wild / Drink of the Blade /
Nocturnal Forever / Polluted Temples

With Out Here, premier bassist Christian McBride's fifth recording on
Mack Avenue Records, McBride introduces his latest working group: a
trio, fully embracing at age 41 his role as standard-bearer and mentor
Pianist Christian Sands and drummer Ulysses Owens, Jr. - both younger,
emerging artists - have been performing with McBride's smallest group for about
three years, honing their trio conception to a fine point of expressive depth and
nuance with select performances around the world.

Universally credited as the band that invented grindcore, it's no
exaggeration to say that Napalm Death are one of the most important
acts in metal history
Earache Records' third ever release (MOSH003), classic debut album 'Scum' had
an immediate, seismic impact in 1987 and its influence can still be felt far and
wide today. To celebrate its 35th anniversary, this essential album is repressed
with a limited-edition Blue colour sleeve. An absolute 'must have' for any heavy
metal collector. Pressed from the original master tapes, the album has been
specially recreated using 'fdr' – full dynamic range mastering - allowing the
music's nuances to shine through and giving the classic album a more ferocious
and dynamic sound, enabling the listener to immerse in the full audio heaviness
like never before.
LP Tracks: Multinational Corporations / Instinct of Survival / The Kill / Scum /
Caught in a Dream / Polluted Minds / Sacrificed / Siege of Power / Control / Born
On Your Knees / Human Garbage / You Suffer / Life? / Prison Without Walls /
Point of No Return / Negative Approach / Success? / Deceiver / C.S. / Parasites /
Pseudo Youth / Divine Death / As the Machine Rolls On / Common Enemy / Moral
Crusade / Stigmatized / M.A.D / Dragnet

Universally credited as the band that invented grindcore, it's no
exaggeration to say that Napalm Death are one of the most important
acts in metal history
Earache Records' third ever release (MOSH003), classic debut album 'Scum' had
an immediate, seismic impact in 1987 and its influence can still be felt far and
wide today. To celebrate its 35th anniversary, this essential album is repressed
with a limited-edition Blue colour sleeve. An absolute 'must have' for any heavy
metal collector. Pressed from the original master tapes, the album has been
specially recreated using 'fdr' – full dynamic range mastering - allowing the
music's nuances to shine through and giving the classic album a more ferocious
and dynamic sound, enabling the listener to immerse in the full audio heaviness
like never before.
LP Tracks: Multinational Corporations / Instinct of Survival / The Kill / Scum /
Caught in a Dream / Polluted Minds / Sacrificed / Siege of Power / Control / Born
On Your Knees / Human Garbage / You Suffer / Life? / Prison Without Walls /
Point of No Return / Negative Approach / Success? / Deceiver / C.S. / Parasites /
Pseudo Youth / Divine Death / As the Machine Rolls On / Common Enemy / Moral
Crusade / Stigmatized / M.A.D / Dragnet