Creole Soul!" Two words are enough for David Walters to qualify his music. The exclamation point to support radicalism and faith in its purpose.
A lapidary definition behind the doors of which hides the maze of a culture that crosses the oceans, connects continents and islands by an invisible but powerful thread. A deeply ingrained bond that allows Africa, America, Europe, and the Caribbean to converse with each other with a language as universal as music, dance, carnivals, or ceremonies.
Spread on the globe; the different creole cultures find a point of convergence where they are all represented: New York.
In this city, where motivated by his friend photographer JR, he once gave a concert in the street, David Walters decided to set the scene for his new album.
After five years of traveling the world, meeting musicians for the TV show “The New Explorers” (Canal +), it is around this hyperactive city that he chose to shine his Créole Sun. To imbue his music with the state of mind and aesthetics that reigned in the 70s and 80s.
While in 2018, he soloes produced Nola Is Calling (an album recorded in New Orleans with the Creole community of Black Indians, selected by Gilles Peterson in the best of 2019 on BBC 6). That’s with the essential contribution of the musical mastermind Bruno “Patchworks” Hovart (Mr. President, Voilààà Sound System, Da Break ...) that David produced Soleil Kreyol.
More than a musical partner, Patchworks turned out to be the sound engineer David was looking for. The second part of an ideal pair, the one with whom, set on the same frequencies, he wrote, composed, recorded, played all the instruments. Thought all the arrangements, tweaked the details as carried by a continuous breath. Or rather a light. The “Soleil Kréyol” (Creole Sun).
Cerca:point music
Startisha introduces Naeem as a restlessly creative artist with an impressionistic, genre-bending album. As a complete work, Startisha exemplifies artistic daring and emotional intelligence while exploring new ideas and sounds, and philosophically excavating the artist's histories. Startisha may be loaded with impressive collaborations and left-field sounds, but don't get it twisted_this music comes straight from Naeem's heart, representing the journey he's taken to get to this point as well as what lies in the future for him. Baltimore-hailing Naeem Juwan has spent much of the last decade stretching his creative legs in a variety of ways: he's hit the road with artists ranging from the Avalanches and Bon Iver to Big Red Machine and Mouse on Mars, took part in a 37d03d residency in Berlin, and was selected as the music resident in 2019 for New York's Pioneer Works space. Through it all, he's been building the songs that make up Startisha, a record a half-decade in the making that featured Juwan pulling from creative circles all across the U.S. to craft a truly unique document of sound. After studio sessions in Philadelphia and New York, Juwan decamped to Minneapolis and holed up in Justin Vernon's home studio, where Startisha continued to come together with contributions from Vernon, Ryan Olson (Gayngs, Polica), Swamp Dogg, Velvet Negroni, Francis and the Lights, and regular collaborators Amanda Blank and Micah James.
Multidisciplinary NYC artist Gavilán Rayna Russom launches her own label Voluminous Arts, dedicated to highlight electronic and experimental artists whose work challenges fixed categories of genre and categorization. Her aim is to create a platform for multidisciplinary work and events. The inaugural release being her second solo album as Gavilán Rayna Russom 'Secret Passage', following up last years 'The Envoy, an homage to the East Side Rail Tunnel in Providence, Rhode Island, and the friendships she made there.
In Rayna’s words:
“I grew up in Providence, Rhode Island in the 1970’s and 80’s. The booming jewelry and textile industries of the previous decades had pulled out by that point. The Italian mob ran most details of the day to day operations of the city. As kids coming up in that environment, before the internet, me and the people I hung out with didn’t know anything else and we worked with what we had to entertain ourselves. We found places that had been forgotten by market interests and made them spaces of creative community building. One of the most special of these places was the East Side Rail Tunnel. Running for almost exactly one mile beneath the city’s streets, the tunnel and nearby Crook Point Bridge were unsupervised autonomous zones where I tasted the possibilities of a world without surveilance. The tunnel was particularly important in my creative development because not only was it a marginal zone apart from monetized spaces of creative consumption, but it also had specific experiential properties. It had a bend in it which meant that when you got to the middle of it you were in complete darkness, and I learned quickly that when you spend enough time in complete darkness you start to hallucinate, which I liked. The acoustics were also remarkable; long natural delays and harmonic-reinforcing reverberances. Making any sound in there added layers of acoustic effects which made noises physical and fluid and, combined with the complete darkness, absolutely dissolved boundaries between internal and external experience. I started hanging out there when I was 14 and continued to return there regularly until development, gentrification and policing eventually made it inaccessible. By the mid ‘90s it was sealed off with progressively more impenetrable barriers. Nowadays it looks very different. This music is about some of the significant experiences I had in this beautifully neglected place and the people I had them with.”
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Parisian label Another Moon are pleased to announce the imminent release of the second collaborative album by Scott Monteith aka Deadbeat and Paul St Hilaire aka Tikiman entitled 4 Quarters of Love and Modern Lash. When asked about about the album's motivations and production process, Monteith had the following to say: “I first heard Paul's voice back in 1996 when I stumbled upon the first Burial Mix 10 inch in a local shop, and it would be no exaggeration to say it has echoed in my mind ever since. We began working together in 2008, and it's fair to say the experience of performing and learning from him has left an indelible mark on my artistic process and my outlook on life in general. He is possessed of a truly electrifying spirit. I’ve had a folder on my hard drive called “For Tiki” for 14 years now, for those more often than not late night studio moments when I stumble upon a rhythmic or musical phrase and hear that unmistakable voice bubbling up in my mind. When that folder fills up with enough of those little magic moments I know it's time to call him, though strangely enough, he more often than not ends up calling me around those times. Such is his deep universal awareness.” “I wrote the initial sketches for what would eventually become this new album over the course of last year to a large extent as a way of trying to process what I perceived as a creeping darkness and sickness in both my own life and the world in general that desperately needed exorcising. When I received his initial responses I nearly fell off my chair. It goes without saying that Paul is a lyricist and poet second to none, and anyone familiar with his enormous body of work can attest to that. And yet, there was something in these latest pieces that hammered the proverbial nail clean through the wood. They perfectly captured this sense of rising tension, of a world that was getting almost psychedelically weirder and darker by the day, and both held a mirror up to this and offered some much needed release. Little did we know, nor could we possibly have imagined, that by the time the record actually hit the shelves, things would get exponentially weirder and darker still.” “It is my great hope that at some point in the coming months we will be able to get back on the road and share these new pieces with people in a live setting, as performing with Tiki is truly one of my greatest joys, and I think it’s where the fire in our work together truly burns brightest. In the meantime, it is my great hope that these 4 long form meditations might provide a little solace for people in their isolation, be it quietly, eyes closed lying on the coach, or cranked up, full on raving in their living rooms.”
- A1: Holler If Ya Hear Me
- A2: Pac's Theme (Interlude)
- A3: Point The Finga
- A4: Something 2 Die 4 (Interlude)
- A5: Last Wordz
- B1: Souljah's Revenge
- B2: Peep Game
- B3: Strugglin
- B4: Guess Who's Back
- C1: Representin' 93
- C2: Keep Ya Head Up
- C3: Strictly 4 My N.i.g.g.a.z
- C4: The Streetz R Deathrow
- D1: I Get Around
- D2: Papa'z Song
- D3: 5 Deadly Venomz
The Bees are a textbook case of the chew and spit cycle that was the late 80’s South African music industry. Although their unknown story is likely unique, it is just as likely that it is no different to that of many other young artists who dreamed of getting their music heard at the time.
By 1988, the independent record label was no longer as uncommon as it had been at the beginning of the decade. As the 80s went on, more seasoned A&R reps and Producers that had gained experience and connections from their work under major labels would be trying to cash in on a market they helped create. Without the need of big rooms or expensive recording equipment, the digital advancements allowed many Producers to open or work in smaller studios and promote unknown artists under their own imprints. They would then have their catalogs marketed and distributed by the same major labels they had been working for just years prior. This would open up the possibility of a new era of stars as potential talent no longer had to be pitched to major labels in hopes of them taking a chance on a new signee over their already established artists. With the market growing and a struggle to keep up with the demand for new sounds this agreement would allow the major labels to put new emerging artists or groups on their catalog with little investment and high reward if it happened to be a hit.
ON Records was just one of the independent players at the time. Ronnie Robot had just signed the unlikely trio The Bees in hopes of adding a hit group to his label roster that consisted of solo acts. Despite the debut’s fresh house inspired sound, it failed to catch on was outsold by the bubblegum disco the label was known for. Over the years unsold back stock and promos would build up with the distributor. Luckily this allowed sealed copies from the label’s catalog to survive into the 90s when the distributor’s stock was unloaded and picked up by legendary Johannesburg jazz shop Kohinoor. Here sealed copies of the Bees first attempt sat under appreciated for over 20 years before becoming a hot title after they started circulating online and became club staples. This is how the first album of an unknown group with no success was able to become a collectors item and earn a reissue over 25 years later.
With their first record behind them The Bees were ready move forward and get back into the studio. A suggestion from producers had the trio change camps and go work with the newly formed Creative Sound Recordings, the label that promised “Music for the Future” and ended up being an essential studio in the early years of Kwaito. They would work with producer Chris Ghelakis and guitarist George Vardas, while a young Marvin Moses sat behind the desk. Musically the sophomore album was as good as a follow up as you could get. Building on the first album, Mashonisa delivers catchy melodies backed by heavy drum programming that would score points with any Pantsula. The Black Box inspired “ Never Give Up” was one of two tracks chosen to be pressed as the promo for the album, hoping to trick listeners with their catchy version of the hit( A year later the label would release their first volume of Black Box covers sang by neo soul diva BB, it would be a great seller). The label printed up an unknown amount of these in a last attempt to push the release in Shabeens and on Radio. The cheaper route of flooding the market with promo copies would only pay off 25 years later when unplayed copies started being rediscovered and had survived the years in a quantity that original run of the full album could not. Once again it was clear that with no mainstream appeal, the quality of the music on its own was not enough to garner any success at the time. The album flopped worse than their first and failed to make it past it’s initial run, making it one of the harder titles to get from the CSR catalog.
Mashonisa would be the last attempt from the Bees. They would disappear from the scene as quickly as they appeared. Of the three members it is only known that lead Singer Solomon Phiri continued in music fronting a wave dance group before he mysteriously vanished in 1993, never to be heard from again. Through a combination of luck and circumstance the group, which is unknown in South Africa to even the most plugged in musicians, producers and radio hosts of the time, managed to finally get some of the recognition they deserved 30 years later. Unfortunately this small blip of fame would happen with none of the band members present to give their side of the story, or even aware of how their two albums became popular enough to be printed on different continents in a new millennia. The Bees suffered the same fate as countless other artists of the time, who thanks to emerging independent labels and willing producers were given an opportunity to have a short career, only to be replaced by the meat grinder of the music industry when they failed to produce a hit.
A focal point for the unique punk-funk that was coming together in Bristol as the bridge from the 70s to the 80s arrived, Maximum Joy was formed by Glaxo Babies multi-instrumentalist Tony Wrafter and 18 year old vocalist Janine Rainforth. Soon they drafted in additional Glaxo Babies in the form of drummer Charlie Llewellin and bassist Dan Catsis, along with guitarist John Waddington, fresh from The Pop Group. The group set about making a one-of-a-kind mix of funk, punk, pop, jazz, dub, soul, afrobeat and reggae; creating a brilliant burst of danceable tunes wrapped around elastic basslines and complex percussion, punctuated by melodic horns and stabs of guitar, all of it highlighting Rainforth’s naturally enthusiastic vocal style. They immediately took their place on the rosters of influential labels like Y and 99 with iconic debut single Stretch, as the band had clearly captured something special.
Entering 1982, Kevin Evans had replaced Catsis as Maximum Joy set out to make what would be their only full length LP. Recording at Berry Street and The Lodge with producers Adrian Sherwood (On-U-Sound legend), Dave Hunt (Flying Lizards, Pigbag, This Heat) and Pete Wooliscroft (Kate Bush, Talk Talk, Peter Gabriel, OMD, This Heat) the band would mix practiced grooves with imaginative improvisation. The results were absolutely jaw-dropping.
Station M.X.J.Y. kicks things off with Dancing On My Boomerangand promptly sets forth the blueprint for bands like !!! and The Rapture to capitalize on nearly twenty years later. In fact, those bands can only dream of the mix of driving percussion and spectral shards of guitar that Maximum Joy has clearly already mastered. Do It Todayannounces itself immediately with Rainforth delivering a looping and infectious vocal melody that the others dance around playfully, as handclaps keep the stomping groove intact, leaving a dancehall hit for outer space circling your turntable.
If you ever wondered what it would sound like if ESG and The Slits combined forces, Let It Take You There has the answer for you. Llewellin periodically delivers a cascade of marching band percussion while Waddington’s classic R&B riffs are transformed into a slithering snake trying to keep pace with Evans locked in groove as Rainforth’s singsong vocals are reduced to whispered echoes. They close out side one with the delicious slab of pop that is Searching For A Feeling. Clearly pronouncing the band’s intention to find the positives in a dire time for England, they look to rally those around them to focus on making real change in the face of opposing voices via one of Rainforth’s most delightful deliveries.
Side two sees Wrafter stretching out on Where’s Deke?, showcasing what had already been obvious, as he is the band’s secret weapon, often coloring each tune with his horns, sometimes in several styles just seconds apart. He underlines that feeling with the raucous and bouncy Temple Bomb Twist, before they hit a straight groove in Mouse An’ Me, like a dub infected Train In Vain. Well, if The Clash had ever allowed themselves to properly lose their minds on the dancefloor.
A funky afrobeat flute and guitar battle breaks out (way cooler than it sounds) before Rainforth rallies the troops to not only fill up the disco, but also the surrounding streets in political resistance to Thatcherism via All Wrapped Up. It is entirely genuine and their activism has none of the menace of the others in their scene, but rather a feeling of sharp optimism amongst this danceable masterpiece. It is that optimism that always set Maximum Joy apart, and makes their grooves all the more irresistible today.
Sadly, the upward trajectory of the band was cut short as Rainforth left the group, and soon afterwards seemed to stop making music altogether. The reasoning seemed destined to remain a mystery, until earlier this year when she gave a brave interview to The Guardian where she revealed that an assault by someone in the industry caused her to retreat entirely from music for nearly three decades. Luckily, Janine has embraced music once again, and she refuses to let the magic that was Station M.X.J.Y. be lost as well.
Khruangbin has always been multilingual, weaving far-flung musical languages like East Asian surf-rock, Persian funk, and Jamaican dub into mellifluous harmony. But on its third album, it's finally speaking out loud. Mordechai features vocals prominently on nearly every song, a first for the mostly instrumental band. It's a shift that rewards the risk, reorienting Khruangbin's transportive sound toward a new sense of emotional directness, without losing the spirit of nomadic wandering that's always defined it. And it all started with them coming home. By the summer of 2019, the Houston group_bassist Laura Lee Ochoa, guitarist Mark Speer, drummer DJ Johnson_had been on tour for nearly three-and-ahalf years, playing to audiences across North and South America, Europe, and southeast Asia behind its acclaimed albums The Universe Smiles Upon You and Con Todo El Mundo. They returned to their farmhouse studio in Burton, Texas, ready to begin work on their third album. But they were also determined to slow down, to take their time and luxuriate in building something together. Musically, the band's ever-restless ear saw it pulling reference points from Pakistan, Korea, and West Africa, incorporating strains of Indian chanting boxes and Congolese syncopated guitar. But more than anything, the album became a celebration of Houston, the eclectic city that had nurtured them, and a cultural nexus where you can check out country and zydeco, trap rap, or avant-garde opera on any given night. In those years away from home, Khruangbin's members often felt like they were swimming underwater, unsure of where they were going, or why they were going there. But Mordechai leads them gently back to the surface, allowing them to take a breath, look around, and find itself again. It is a snapshot taken along a larger journey_a moment all the more beautiful for its impermanence. And it's a memory to revisit again and again, speaking to us now more clearly than ever.
Sludge machine music slapped through the infinite mixing desk by SRS - the combined mind of Sunun and Robin Stewart. At any pointData Fossil'sgiddy industrial riddims could collapse under their own weight. There are Sunun inputs and there are Robin Stewart inputs - but everything is offered up to their machines gladly for an output of nu-human-beat. Voices drift through the mix in hushed Italian and Robin's gruff roboticized drawl, floating dub chords left hanging for cavernous subs and rattled bones, distant harps and arps, a sudden blast of trills. 'Spit Fossil' itself is a clipped noise-pop wonder - the aural equivalent of a lights-on Avon dancefloor with only the weirdest left standing.
Recorded on the rooftop of a housing project called Camelot in 2018, the two Bristol locals debuted the live / unplanned collaboration in an inflatable arena called 'Toldo' in the Brunswick Club ballroom (RIP). Then again at Young Echo at the Cube Microplex - a night where it's said anything is possible (Sunun even dubbed Guest's live human heartbeat there recently….). IfData Fossilis hard to describe - it's just the sound of the musical freedom of a city that will never run dry.
It's a high Bokeh honour to welcome Sunun back after we helped release her 2018 debut,Ooid EP. Her live show continues to be the most inspiring re-use of dub principles we've witnessed (again and again). Time only grows her music outwards causing the Young Echo collective to demand she join them. SinceOoid,she's released a 12" of MPC wonders with close Bristol pals Cold Light.
Recently bearing his dub-side to all that didn't know on Trilogy Tapes'Time Travel EP, Robin Stewart is half of world conquering techno-cult Giant Swan. Also a veteran of Rwdfwd stable of imprints (Fuckpunk and NoCorner) - his music DNA is equal parts shoegaze and steppas. In 2020 he was officially recognised for having the largest collection of Bokeh t shirts.
The long awaited third album from much loved vintage synth maestros Billy Bainbridge and Mike Johnston, finally finds its home on Ghost Box Records. This is unironically joyful and melodic electronica; informed by library music, music for children’s TV and a deep passion for the history of music technology.
Plone are very much part of Ghost Box’s DNA. They were a central part of the 90s retro-futuristic scene in Birmingham that included Broadcast and Pram and to which the label has always had strong ties through graphic designer and co-manager, Julian House. They are also cited by the label’s other boss, Jim Jupp, as a major influence on his work as Belbury Poly.
The band was formed as a three-piece in the mid-90s and their debut single, Press a Key, was championed by John Peel. The first album, For Beginner Piano, was released on Warp Records in 1999. Their warm, witty and unfunky music stood out from the crowd, almost in defiance of the moody and masculine post-rave electronica of their contemporaries.
A selection of bootlegged demos from the early 00s was rumoured to be the follow up album, but it never materialised. After that Billy went on to tour with Broadcast and later formed Seeland with another former band member Tim Felton (also of Ghost Box’s Hintermass). Meanwhile Mike formed the ZX Spectrum Orchestra, released solo singles as Mike in Mono and was a member of The Modified Toy Orchestra.
Twenty years on and Plone have reconvened as a duo with a third album, Puzzlewood. It’s compiled from material recorded at various points since the “lost album”, right up to the present day.
Chris Korda's new album "Polymeter" is unique as entirely composed in complex polymeter sequences, a unique way to compose music with a new generation of algorithm, inside which Chris injects DNA of neo classical, ambient and jazz music.
This refreshing album will please both those who are into complex musical composition, conceptual music and who are just seeking for a beautiful, emotional and accessible, unique, musical moment.
This is a "In your hearts not the charts" album, as Irdial Discs once said.
Chris Korda is a transgender, vegan and relentless critic of consumerism, leader of The Church of Euthanasia (willing to halt the overpopulation through suicide, sodomy, abortion and cannibalism) and composer/performer of electronic dance music. She has previously released albums on Kevorkian, International Deejay Gigolo Records and Perlon.
Please read below Chris Korda's introduction to his new album "Polymeter":
Polymeter is an album of virtual solo instrumental performances. They're mostly piano pieces, along with a couple of guitar pieces. They sound uncannily similar to human performances, but they aren't. On the contrary, they are algorithmic music, pure applied mathematics.
The compositions are generated by elaborate networks of polymeter modulation. This sounds complicated and will need some explaining. But the most important point is that these are compositions I didn't write in any usual sense of the word. I created systems of rules, and the compositions emerged from those rules. The rules that generated these pieces can be conceptualized as kinetic sculptures that produce intricate non-random patterns of musical interference. The resulting patterns repeat themselves over long periods, measured in hours, days, or in some cases years.
In order to create this album, I had to write my own MIDI sequencer from scratch, because commercial MIDI sequencers lack the necessary degrees of freedom. My sequencer is also called Polymeter, and I started writing it in 1994. I used a relatively primitive version of it to create my earlier techno and electro releases, but the rapid evolution of computer technology made my original so ware hopelessly obsolete by the 21st century. Like its immediate predecessor "Akoko Ajeji" (Perlon) this album was created using a much more sophisticated version of my sequencer. It took me many years to learn the programming skills I needed to modernize my sequencer, which is one reason why such a long hiatus occurred between my older and newer releases.
Chris Korda
Fractura del SueNo is the debut album from the Catalan and Berlin-based artist Ameeva and his first big step into his musical path. With the purpose of creating a conceptual LP which develop the idea of transcendence, power of mind and self-interpretation of the individual, Alex Busse has created an album where different influences share the same environment. From ambient and drones to deep techno, going through broken-beats, distortions, organic percussions, field-recordings and even the human speech, he has created a progresion in the storytelling which ascends in energy nd comes back to the origin point, making it ideal for a calm and deep listening where the listener can focus on each sound.
When people talk about Italian dance music, they tend to focus on Rome and Napoli rather than Bologna. Yet the city in Northern Italy not only played a key role in the development of “Italo-house” in the late 1980s and early ‘90s, but also boasts a vibrant contemporary scene. To prove the point, Boogie Café has put together “Bologna On The Move”, a four-track selection of sizzling hot cuts from some of the city’s latest wave of deep and soulful dance music talents.
Leading the charge is Sam Ruffillo, a producer who first appeared on Boogie Café last year following an impressive 2018 debut on Irma Dance floor. He kicks off proceedings with the infectious “U Make Me Sing”, a heavyweight slab of rolling breakbeat goodness rich in tight vocal samples, jazzy guitar licks and wonderfully warm and weighty bass.
Later in the EP Ruffilo returns to action alongside Brine, another rising star with links to legendary Italian label Irma. “Request Line” is a fine slab of chunky, U.S garage-influenced deep house that sees the duo pepper swinging drums and toasty bass with heady organ stabs, cut-up vocal samples and trippy electronics.
Fittingly, Brine gets a chance to showcase his skills as a solo producer via “Star Chaser”, a looser and jazzier house excursion that doffs a cap to the glory years of jazz-funk whilst championing rich deep house synth riffs, jaunty bass and more spaced-out vocal snippets.
You’ll hear a similar jazz-funk influence at the heart of the EP’s only contribution from Red Rooster founder and former House of Disco artist D’Arabia. The most experienced of the three artists on show, he offers up “Straight Outta Fire”, a bouncy, deep and percussive affair that wraps drowsy male vocals, sustained chords and harmonica samples around disco-influenced house beats and what may well be the squelchiest bassline ever to emerge from Bologna.
DJ Support:
Bedmo Disco, Lord leopard, Melon Bomb, Dave Harvey, Haze City, Aroop Roy, Lay Far , Danvers, Kassian, Dave Jarvis,
Jimmy The Twin & Cengiz.
- A1: Flag Day/The Mother Stone
- A2: I Want To Love You
- B1: The Great I Am
- B2: Lullabbey
- B3: No Where's Where Nothing's Died (A Marvelous Pain) (A Marvelous Pain)
- B4: Thanks For Staying
- C1: Little Planet Pig
- C2: You're So Wonderful
- C3: I Dig Your Dog
- C4: Katya
- B1: All I Am In You/The Big Worm
- B2: No Where's Where Nothing's Died
- B3: Licking The Days
- B4: For The Longest Time
- B5: The Hodge-Podge Porridge Poke
"I think most of it takes place in dreams," Caleb Landry Jones says of his debut solo album, The Mother Stone. "I'm talking more about dreams than I am about what's happened in the physical realm. Or I'm talking about both, and you're not sure what's what." Caleb Landry Jones was born in Garland, Texas in 1989 and comes from a long line of fiddle players. Three, maybe four generations back, on his mother's side. His grandfather wrote jingles for commercials, his mother was a singer-songwriter who taught piano lessons in the house, and his father was a contractor who did a lot of work for the Dallas music-equipment retailer Brook Mays and knew a guy if you needed a bass or a banjo. But Jones is not sure if you can hear any of this in his music and he does not play the fiddle. Jones has been writing and recording music since age 16, around the same time he started acting professionally. Played in a band called Robert Jones for a minute, lost his guitar player to higher education, moved into his own place, and broke up with somebody, at which point the songs really started coming hard and fast. "I started playing guitar and playing more keys," he says, "and then started writing record after record after record after record, because I didn't know what to do with myself. It was a good way of healing. And it felt like as soon as I started doing it, it felt like it needed to happen all the time." In the ensuing years he'd spend a lot of time carrying unrecorded songs around in his head like goldfish in a bag, waiting for a chance to record them in marathon sessions in his parents' barn. "You gotta play the songs every day, or every two or three days, to keep `em," he says. "Otherwise I forget them." Sometimes the ideas fuse together, one chapter to the next; this is how songs grow into seven-plus-minute epics like the ones on The Mother Stone. His back catalog is around seven hundred songs deep_ a whole discography of full albums, most of them unheard outside the barn, at least for now.
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It’s taken Yotam Avni a little while to get to his debut album; almost a decade, really, since his debut 12”, “That’s What The World Needs”, on California’s Seasons Limited imprint. During that time, the Tel-Aviv based producer has refined his productions, tightening the groove and paring everything back to bare essentials; the power in an Avni cut is its combination of piston-pulse propulsion and a deep, but gently applied, musicality. This combination gives his techno productions added heft on the dance floor, but also a lyrical sensibility that places him squarely in a tradition of techno legends who somehow manage to make the four-to-the-floor a space of poetic intensity, of rigorous joy.
Avni’s been on Kompakt’s radar for a while, first appearing on the label last year, with his Speicher contribution, “Mañana Mañana”. (“Track For Agoria”, from that EP, also appeared on Total 19.) The connection immediately made sense – dance music that managed to feel both lush and streamlined across the same great gasp of late-night energy. But with Yotam Avni Was Here, he’s taken a huge leap. After a brief intro, Avni sets his stall with “Beyond The Dance”, which features slow-moving vocal melisma over sculptural, melting tonalities, a tintinnabulating, harpsichord-like two-note phrase pacing out the track. Then “It Was What It Was” comes into view, its strip-light textures suddenly placed into sharp relief by a muted trumpet figure that hangs in the air, melancholy and pensive.
It’s no surprise, at this point, to discover that Avni’s inspirations for Was Here took in the histories of both techno and jazz. “I wanted to try something more around Detroit Techno meets ECM,” he reflects, when explaining the motivating forces behind the album. “Carl Craig’s Just Another Day EP and Kenny Larkin’s Keys, Strings, Tambourines came out during my high school years and had huge impact on me.” Avni’s also appeared on Transmat compilations, and remixed artists like the Midwest’s Titonton Duvanté, and Orlando Voorn – the latter particularly important for the way he connected the Detroit and Amsterdam techno scenes – his career path is marked by ongoing connections, direct and indirect, to Detroit’s storied history.
“I always wanted to go back to those hi-tek soul roots on a full album,” he continues, and he’s definitely exploring that terrain here, with the sky-strafing brass on “Free Darius Now”, morse-code keys on “Vortex” and glitchy, microhouse tickles of “Know Hope” all contributing to an oblique narrative that seems to arc across Was Here – one fleshed out by guest musicians, who include dop and Gerog Levin on vocals, and trumpets by Greg Paulus (of Beirut and No Regular Play). The cover art makes the jazz connection explicit, riffing on the text-based, minimal design of The Modern Jazz Quartet’s 1955 album for Prestige, Concorde. But the way Avni has gathered around him both inspiring musicians and intriguing reference points makes me think of his broader career as well, the collectivism behind his AVADON nights in Tel-Aviv, his many and wide-ranging releases on labels like Innervisions, Hotflush and Stroboscopic Artefacts, and the openness of his productions, which seem to be all about the multiple, the possibilities of cross-pollination, of fusing this with that, of adding and subtracting, all under the pulsating thumbprint of techno.
Good things, after all, are worth waiting for.
If Galaxy Lane’s first EP didn’t send the portals of time and space upside down, then the second EP will throw you down a vortex of hypnotic grooves juxtaposed with eerily erratic rhythms built in outer space.
The first of two EP’s to be trusted in the hands of Lone Romantic, ‘Night’ and ‘Later That Night’ will explore the concept of capturing moments in time.
Maybe Galaxy Lane can best summarise…
“I want people to really feel the mistakes in this music, the dirt, the rough and raw approach, the ‘sitting on the floor surrounded by wires at 3am messing with synths’ approach. That to me is the magic of this music, the interaction of man and machine, to hear the nuances, the tweaking of knobs and pushes of faders. I think we have lost that somewhat with digital technology, and have lost a lot of feeling in the process”
‘Night’ will propel the listener into ethereal textures layered over rough and raw beats, as outlined on opening track ‘Deep Space Nine’. If that sets you up for thinking this will be a dreamy ride, ‘Communication’ hits hard at the rear of the spaceship, coming at you with intergalactic bleeps, zaps and back cracking rhythms made for getting down.
Side 2 sets off on an exploration of wild eyed boundary flexing in the shape of ‘Enter The Light’. Pushing the machines to near breaking point whilst just hanging on, it’s a track that shows what can be done when the spaceship is left to drive itself, you can do nothing more than go with it and and see what happens.
‘Snow Day’ is perhaps the perfect way to round us back in. A more calmer, smoother ride, it’s unmistakable polyrhythms soothing the soul and setting us up for the next chapter…
If Galaxy Lane’s first EP didn’t send the portals of time and space upside down, then the second EP will throw you down a vortex of hypnotic grooves juxtaposed with eerily erratic rhythms built in outer space.
The first of two EP’s to be trusted in the hands of Lone Romantic, ‘Night’ and ‘Later That Night’ will explore the concept of capturing moments in time.
Maybe Galaxy Lane can best summarise…
“I want people to really feel the mistakes in this music, the dirt, the rough and raw approach, the ‘sitting on the floor surrounded by wires at 3am messing with synths’ approach. That to me is the magic of this music, the interaction of man and machine, to hear the nuances, the tweaking of knobs and pushes of faders. I think we have lost that somewhat with digital technology, and have lost a lot of feeling in the process”
‘Night’ will propel the listener into ethereal textures layered over rough and raw beats, as outlined on opening track ‘Deep Space Nine’. If that sets you up for thinking this will be a dreamy ride, ‘Communication’ hits hard at the rear of the spaceship, coming at you with intergalactic bleeps, zaps and back cracking rhythms made for getting down.
Side 2 sets off on an exploration of wild eyed boundary flexing in the shape of ‘Enter The Light’. Pushing the machines to near breaking point whilst just hanging on, it’s a track that shows what can be done when the spaceship is left to drive itself, you can do nothing more than go with it and and see what happens.
‘Snow Day’ is perhaps the perfect way to round us back in. A more calmer, smoother ride, it’s unmistakable polyrhythms soothing the soul and setting us up for the next chapter…
Inspired by Gibson's 'Neuromancer', Patrick Holland dives deep into the ambivalent future with Simstim. Also known for work as Project Pablo, Simstim uses familiar motifs with a more personalized touch. Pointillist melodies lay in a wash of noise artifacts, as pulsating rhythms fray subtly falling between sections, all delicately glued together with blissful harmonies. For the dancer and/or headphone listener alike.
‘Garlands’ was the Cocteau Twins’ debut album, released in the early autumn of 1982. It was the only album they made with original bassist Will Heggie. Describing it as “haunting,” “spellbound,” “diaphanous” and discerning a “frosting of sweetness,” the critics wore out their adjectives; this was rock music - just - but it was conjured in the unlikeliest environment from the strangest of material.
This is ‘Garlands’ first vinyl pressing in over ten years, remastered from the original analogue tapes, pressed on 140g black vinyl and includes a digital download code. ‘Victorialand’, Cocteau Twins’
fourth album, was released in spring 1986. The largely acoustic, nonpercussive album was made with Elizabeth and Robin, while Simon was working on This Mortal Coil’s second album.
Dif Juz labelmate Richard Thomas guested on tabla and saxophone. The Guardian said “It’s not quite ambient, but it’s definitely not rock’n’roll even by the Cocteaus’ standards, building on the moments of guitar shimmer from the previous years’ EPs, while also stripping back at points to where it’s nothing but a Guthrie guitar line and Fraser’s voice.
‘Victorialand’ is remastered from the original analogue tapes,
pressed on 140g black vinyl and includes a download code.
**LP FORMAT IS VERY LIMITED - PLEASE BE AWARE THAT UNFORTUNATELY THERE MAY BE CUTS TO ORDERS**
For Los Angeles' The Black Queen, the depths of isolation and loss have always functioned as a gateway to being born anew. Much has transpired since the band released their cold, cutting debut album Fever Daydream (a record that Revolver described as 'a haunting exploration of the darker side of pop music'). But throughout it all, the trio of Greg Puciato (former frontman of the now-defunct The Dillinger Escape Plan), Joshua Eustis (of Telefon Tel Aviv, Puscifer, and Nine Inch Nails), and Steven Alexander (a tech member for Nine Inch Nails, Ke$ha, and A Perfect Circle) have emerged as triumphant and intense as ever, documenting their journey via the synth-streaked industrial anthems of their sophomore release, Infinite Games.Formed in 2011 after a chance meeting between Puciato and Eustis backstage at a Dillinger show in which they both realized they were huge fansof each other's work, The Black Queen became a labor of love for its members to explore sounds and emotions that they couldn't quite fit into their full-time projects. Injecting a pained, twilit edge into slick new-wave tracks as fit for the dance floor as they are for some imagined dystopian skyline, the trio have managed to channel their scattered, eclectic influences into a surprisingly cohesive vision. 'We've got a pretty weird cross section,' Puciato says of the band's musical chemistry. 'We can go out for food and listen to Power Trip on the way there, then Baltimore club music on the way back, and then talk about how killer Maxwell's Embrya album was, and then get sidetracked and talk about the Celeste video game soundtrack, then all have to be quiet so that we can grab a voice recording of some weird sounding radio interference. It's all over the place and unusually far reaching,and there's a lot of passion for discovery.'After releasing their 2016 debut album Fever Daydream to critical acclaim however, the trio underwent several major upheavals that cast the project in a completely new light. Puciato's main project The Dillinger Escape Plan disbanded. Chris Cornell of Soundgarden killed himself while Puciato was on tour with him. Eustis put out music under his beloved Telefon Tel Aviv monikerfor the first time since his former bandmate Charles Cooper died in 2009. Thetrio's storage space was robbed. Puciato suffered a relapse into crippling anxiety and paranoia. Once again, in the face of tragedy, The Black Queen had to rebuild everything from the ground up.The first step was acquiring a new studio space, which immensely helped the band get back into the rhythm of freely collaborating with one another, and experimenting with sounds for as long (and as loud) as they wanted. The resulting album, Infinite Games, marks a massive leap forward for The Black Queen. Not only are the band's icy R&B instincts more sharply pronounced; they've also rendered their morbid electronics in more lush detail than ever before, filling out the corners of their songs with chilling ambient passages
that create a wide-screen backdrop for Puciato's eerie, tortured vocals. 'I think this album is actually hookier, but more insidious in that it reveals itself over time,' Puciato says about Infinite Games. His choice of words says something about the album's creeping, pitch-black approach to pop music.With this release, the group have also announced a new undertaking in the form of their new label, Federal Prisoner. Resisting the more marketing-centricapproach that feels standard at this point for the record label game, the goal of Federal Prisoner is to provide an outlet for projects that emerge naturally from The Black Queen's own creative endeavors and collaborations with otherartists. In a way, Federal Prisoner solidifies TBQ's commitment to creating music on their own terms, following the same organic sense of inspiration that led them to forming in the first place. As Puciato puts it, 'It's just an expression of passion and individualism in a way that opens more doors for us to create and to own what we create with minimal compromise. It's as much an act of refusal as it is a statement of intent.'Infinite Games, the second album from experimental Los Angeles synth-pop trio The Black Queen, comes out on September 28th




















