Completing the Shadow Rhythms series, Western Lore presents an 8 track various artist EP featuring Response, Denham Audio, Elkie, Eusebeia, Bluematter, Pod, Wrecked Lightship & Low End Activist.
There’s an eclectic mix of junglism on offer here, from deep end esoteric to traditional tearout, flowing toward more ‘outsider’ techno, dubstep & bass music influences on plate 2.
Buscar:point music
Banshee is the new record label from internationally renowned DJ/producer Brianna Price (B.Traits/Baby T). Drawing “esoteric aggressive feminine energy” from the folkloric figure that gives Banshee its name, the imprint will focus on the output of Price’s Baby T alias.
Brianna knows her way around a dance. Years spent producing, DJing, and touring under the B.Traits alias have given Price a vast knowledge of rave culture. Now, all of that experience has been put to good use as part of Baby T’s “hardcore junglist shit only” approach. Anyone who has encountered a Baby T tune in a dark basement over the years should know that there will be no messing around with Banshee’s output. Baby T specialises in hardcore rave tackle schooled by junglism, electro and darkside techno, the project’s sound was honed via releases on labels like Samurai Music and Central Processing Unit. It’s a style at once wild yet focused, untamed yet laser-precise - This is music that will make the hairs on the back of your neck stand up – not unlike a banshee’s shriek, in fact…
The first Banshee release is not a collection for the faint of heart. Each of these four cuts is primed for deployment at the point of the party when things really kick into overdrive. Fiercely danceable, and unapologetically abrasive, Baby T’s productions here can school any challenger in the electro, techno, and jungle fields yet also carry themselves with a punkish spirit that sets them apart from the pack.
Louis' Yowie , laying down their first new music since the release of
"Synchromysticism".
This deluxe Gatefold Double Vinyl edition includes three sides of music, with side four silk-screened with exclusive new artwork by Gumballhead the Cat cartoonist Rob Syers and SKiN GRAFT Records' Mark Fischer. Resting inside the gatefold sit two uncut sheets of 18 collectible Lobby Cards. Each card casts a spotlight on one of the album's performers with a band photo and trivia on the flipside. The
entire package is topped off with a collectible "Footlong" OBI, featuring selling points and review snippets for retail display - and the final product is wrapped in a crystal clear resealable sleeve.
Raised in L.A., Gold was formally trained in classical and jazz piano, and the wonders and possibilities of music seeped into him. He continued pursuing music in college, studying jazz piano at nearby CalArts, where he lived in a barn in the remote town of Val Verde, which was at one point known as the "Black Palm Springs." Around this time, he joined the indie- disco band Poolside as a keyboardist/ vocalist, bouncing around the world on tour with them, as well cowriting songs like the disco-rock-fusion epic "Feel Alright." (18 million streams on Spotify and counting.)
Gold teamed up with former Poolside bandmate Filip Nikolic to develop his sound--something like a mishmash of Supertramp and King Gizzard & the Lizard Wizard. With Gold serving as the main writing and performing force of Mirror Tree, and Nikolic producing the set, while co- writing and performing on some tracks as well, Mirror Tree took flight. Gold would demo out songs and at his home studio, and then bring them to Nikolic's studio, where they would work
together to create grooves worthy of ELO for the chillwave generation.
It’s long believed that dreams are a way for our subconscious and conscious selves to interact. A chance meeting between cognitive thought and the expanse of imagination. Our dreams are often half remembered upon waking, leaving bits and shards of the story left to be pieced together. That process of pulling together fragments feels infused within Austin’s Neckbolt, a band with a radiant understanding of pairing disparate elements together to create something magnificent. Introduced back in 2021 with Midwestern Drawl, their self-released debut album, the duo of James Roo and Benjamin Krause formed the project with a specific energy and an alien sound. At its core, that record laid the blueprint for the band, a forward thinking mix of caustic noise rock and vivid psychedelic pop, combining to create something wild yet ingenious, reshaping common genre ideals.
At some point between the recording and release of their debut, Neckbolt expanded, reverse engineering their sound to form a live band that could pull off the music of their recordings. The line-up grew from a duo to the quintet, with Roo (vocals) and Krause (guitar) joined by longtime friends and collaborators, Bill Indelicato (bass), Brent Hodge (drums), and Kilyn Massey (guitar), forming an instant chemistry apparent in their earliest of live shows. With members split between Austin and Oklahoma City, the band adapted their approach to songwriting, opting to record in bits and pieces as they wrote, bouncing ideas back and forth, watching songs take shape in ways that none of the members had intended, but all were quick to embrace. Neckbolt are a freaky band and their second album, Dream Dump, seizes the opportunity to dial up the strange in their own vibrant way.
Punk pioneers Crass continue their vinyl reissue series, repressing their limited releases by adjacent artists through Crass Records, in association with One Little Independent. The series, including over twenty bands and solo artists recorded at the legendary Southern Studios and produced by Penny Rimbaud, continues with two more historic pieces from the Crass Records catalogue; ‘Farce’ by Rudimentary Peni and ‘Can’t Cheat Karma’ by Zounds.
Zounds are an English post-punk band from Reading, Berkshire, formed in 1977. Originally, they were part of the cassette culture movement, releasing material on the Fuck Off Records label, and were also involved in the squatting and free festival scene. The name of the band is derived from the old English ‘zounds’, a contraction of ‘God’s wounds’, referring to the crucifixion wounds of Jesus Christ, formerly used as a mildly blasphemous oath.
The band met up with fellow anarchists Crass when, legend has it, their van broke down on the road. They made their way to nearby Dial House, where Crass were based, who helped them with repairs. The two bands became friends, and although musically very divergent, they shared many common political views. Zounds shortly afterwards released their first EP, ‘Can't Cheat Karma’, on the Crass Records label in 1980. The EP featured possibly their most well-known track ‘Subvert’, a call to arms against the grind of daily life. The release of this EP and association with Crass led to an increase in the band's profile in the embryonic anarcho-punk scene, touring with both Crass and Poison Girls. They split in 1982 but reformed in 2007, and remain active today.
Penny continues; “Zounds could have made a fine pop group, but they were far too socially sassy to fall for that one. No, their commitment to radical political change, so abundantly clear in their lyrics, set them apart from the commercialism that had so blighted the likes of The Clash and other punkish pretenders. Having been drawn from the ranks of hippy bands like Here and Now, Zounds encouraged dissent and personal change, and, at their own cost, to pursue and promote them as ideologies. Can't cheat karma? No, nor ever beat it. Zounds were hip to this fine point. Want a better life?
Then make it for yourself. Ain't no one gonna help you out on that one. Find your own way, it's the only way there is.”
First released on 7” vinyl, limiting the sound, the new series has been remastered for 12” by Alex Gordon at Abbey Road Studios, allowing them to be heard as never before. This, plus enlarged replicas of the original covers, brings new gusto to their already radical sound.
KNMDK records proudly presents Urban Art Orchestra, a powerful and lush sonic experience that celebrates the music and culture of Detroit the Renaissance City. This project represents the legacy of Detroit while pointing towards the future of what is to come. This project was composed arranged and conducted by 2x Grammy nominated composer De’Sean Jones.
- A1: Can I Talk My Shit?
- A2: Carpenter
- A3: You Know How
- A4: Lexicon
- A5: Passing Me By
- A6: Autobahn
- B1: Nothing To Lose
- B2: It’s A Crisis
- B3: Do Your Worst
- B4: Interlude
- B5: Made Out With Your Best Friend
- B6: Anti-Fuck
Nonesuch releases Sorry I Haven’t Called, the new album by Vagabon, the moniker of Lætitia Tamko. Co-produced by Tamko and Rostam (Vampire Weekend, Haim, Clairo), it finds Tamko reinventing herself once again and features the most playful and adventurous music of her career, as evidenced by its lead track and opening song ‘Can I Talk My Shit?’. Vagabon has also announced an autumn tour that includes a headline run in the US, as well as European dates with Weyes Blood.
“I didn’t feel like being introspective,” says Tamko of her new album. “I just wanted to have fun.” Following her intimate 2017 debut Infinite Worlds, the New York artist favoured expansive and evocative electronic textures in her breakthrough 2019 self-titled follow-up. But her latest album feels like a wholly new era for Tamko, one that’s transformational and uncompromising. Across 12 vibrant tracks she wrote and produced primarily in Germany, she channels dance music and effervescent pop through her own confident sensibilities. These conversational songs are alive and unselfconscious, a document of an artist fully embracing her vision and reclaiming her joy.
The first words she sings on the album are, “Can I talk my shit? / I got way too high for this.” It’s a statement of purpose for the rest of the album that this is an unapologetic artist. “This whole record is how I talk to my friends and how to talk to my lovers,” says Tamko. “I think honesty and conversational songwriting can become poetry. There’s beauty in plainly speaking without metaphors and without flowery imagery.”
The story of Sorry I Haven’t Called started in grief after Tamko’s best friend died in 2021. This devastating and unexpected loss unmoored Tamko but also gave her a newfound clarity. “The things that I thought I cared about, I no longer cared about,” she says. “I had a realization that I need to make sure to feel everything that comes my way.” She decided to sell her things and move to a small lakeside village a few hours north of Hamburg in northern Germany to process everything. “There's no linear path to grief, and everyone handles it differently, but uprooting my life just felt like exactly what I had to do,” says Tamko. “I needed a place to think and go through my discomfort privately but to also explore the newness and urgency I was feeling in my life.” In the village, her phone didn’t work and there were no close grocery stores or restaurants, so she spent her time alone working on music.
Despite the palpable absence in her life, her new songs were her most disarming and ebullient yet. The first one she wrote was ‘Carpenter’, a mesmerizing track anchored by a tangible bass groove, where she sings, “I wasn’t ready to move on out / but I'm more ready now.” It’s a fully-realised track and feels like the culmination of her catalogue so far. “A lot of the music that I was making there had nothing to do with my grief at all,” says Tamko. “Once I gave myself permission to make a record that's full of life and energy, I realized that’s the point of this album. In the midst of going through all of these tough things, it became a record because of the vitality that these songs had.” For Tamko, there’s power in pursuing happiness.
While writing in Germany, Tamko nurtured her love for dance music and let it seep into her new songs. “The only things that were giving me access to a feeling were dance music and going to a rave in an extremely dark club where if I wanted to cry, I could do it and be around other people,” she says.
After a few months in Germany that included marathon writing sessions and a whirlwind romance, Tamko decided to stay with friends in Los Angeles and finish her record. She enlisted co-producer Rostam to help her unify her vision.
Sorry I Haven’t Called is a warm and resilient album about embracing the ecstatic moments wherever you can by knowing how you love and how you mourn. It’s an album born of both communal dancefloor revelations and the clarifying peace from solitude, an emotional rebirth as well as an artistic one. “This record feels like what I've been working towards,” says Tamko. “When I think of this album, I think of playfulness. It's completely euphoric. It's because things were dark that this record is so full of life and energy. It’s a reaction to what I was experiencing at the time, not a document of it.”
Black Truffle is pleased to announce its first release from celebrated London-based Canadian composer Cassandra Miller. Though her body of mature work stretches back almost twenty years, many listeners were introduced to Miller through the success of her astonishing 2015 Duet for Cello and Orchestra, which sets an imperturbable two-note cello part against a series of increasingly dense orchestrations of an Italian folk melody; in 2019, it was selected by The Guardian as one of the ‘best classical music works of the 21st century’. Traveller Song / Thanksong, the first release of her music on vinyl, presents a pair of compositions for voice and ensemble that exemplify Miller’s gently absurd, strikingly beautiful, and utterly unique work.
Like many of Miller’s compositions, these pieces originate in existing music. Traveller Song (2016/2018) begins from a 1950s song of an anonymous Sicilian cart driver recorded by Alan Lomax and Diego Carpitella, which Miller recorded herself singing along to, going on to then record herself singing to her own layered voices. Miller’s untutored voice is an unsteady, wavering wail that has, in her words, ‘more in common with a quasi-shamanistic keening than anything Sicilian’. Heard sometimes alone, sometimes layered, her pre-recorded voice is accompanied by a chamber sextet drawn from London’s Plus-Minus Ensemble. In the first section, Miller’s exposed warble is set to a spare piano accompaniment, somehow both faintly preposterous and magisterial. Following the voice note for note, the piano part often makes use of almost mechanical sequences of parallel chords, reminiscent both of Satie’s Rosicrucian period and the abrupt harmonic movements of a chord organ. The orchestration then opens up to guitar, clarinet, and sliding strings, a delicate environment for Miller’s voice, which, especially when it begins to be layered, generates a powerful sense of intimacy. In its concluding minutes, the folk roots of the original melody return in the form of a glorious full ensemble setting dominated by accordion, clarinet, and strummed guitar. Thanksong begins from recordings of Miller singing along to the third movement of Beethoven’s late quartet in A minor (Op. 132), the ‘holy song of thanks’ the composer wrote to express his gratitude for (temporarily) recovering from illness. Recording herself singing along repeatedly to each of the individual parts of the quartet, Miller created an aural score where each member of the string quartet listens to their own part on headphones, playing by ear. Performed on this recording by Montreal's Quatuor Bozzini, with whom Miller has a decades-long relationship, they are joined by the British soprano Juliet Fraser, who sings material from the Beethoven quartet ‘as slowly and quietly as possible’. The atmosphere of the opening of Beethoven’s Dankgesang, of hushed reawakening and thoughtful reflection, is sustained throughout the fourteen minutes of Miller’s piece, building at points almost to sentimentality before the five individual parts again fall back into a gentle burble of unsynchronised melodic gestures. Like Traveller Song, here the use of the voice is a long way from the mannered performance of much contemporary music, reaching for a human and bodily presence more connected to the reality of the everyday, albeit suffused with wonder. Presented in a stylish sleeve adorned with photography by Lasse Marhaug and liner notes by Cassandra Miller, this is a key release from a major contemporary composer whose work challenges and dazzles in equal measure. .
Trumpeter, bandleader and composer Matthew Halsall announces landmark new album An Ever Changing View, an expansive, immaculately conceived project which presents Halsall’s signature blend of jazz, electronica, global and spiritual jazz influences.
An Ever Changing View will be released on September 8th on Gondwana Records (the label Halsall founded 15 years ago) ahead of a landmark show at The Royal Albert Hall in London on September 21st and UK and EU tour dates.
Halsall who has been hailed as one of the leading figures of the UK jazz renaissance has never seen himself as part of any one sound or scene: he builds his own sonic universe instead. An Ever Changing View finds him at his most experimental yet, once again expanding his sound and production techniques to create his unique brand of deeply meditative music.
During the album's creation, he was staying in both a beautiful architect’s house with breath-taking sea views and a striking modernist house, where he composed what he saw “like a landscape painting”. In these new environments, Halsall wanted to capture “the feeling of openness and escapism” and to approach making music again from scratch. “I hit the reset button and wanted to have complete musical freedom,” he says. “It was a real exploration of sound.”
It was hearing jazz on the dancefloor as a teenager that first opened up new possibilities in Halsall’s mind and his music has long drawn on his love for the spiritual jazz of Alice Coltrane and Pharoah Sanders and contemporary electronica from the likes of Warp Records and Ninja Tune. An Ever Changing View melds those forms in a way that feels heady and, at times, even otherworldly. One of the album’s starting points was Halsall’s ever-expanding box of percussion, from congas and kalimba to various clusters of seeds, bells and chimes, which he sampled and looped to use as a foundation for the songs – a first for him and his band. Elevating, charming, totally modern jazz tracks jostle with deft warm magic realism; and laid back grooves with hand percussion, deep bass and the gorgeous glisten of the Fender Rhodes meet hip-hop beats. Halsall himself sparkles, illuminating his beautiful tapestries of sound with lithe, glistening elegiac trumpet.
Trumpeter, bandleader and composer Matthew Halsall announces landmark new album An Ever Changing View, an expansive, immaculately conceived project which presents Halsall’s signature blend of jazz, electronica, global and spiritual jazz influences.
An Ever Changing View will be released on September 8th on Gondwana Records (the label Halsall founded 15 years ago) ahead of a landmark show at The Royal Albert Hall in London on September 21st and UK and EU tour dates.
Halsall who has been hailed as one of the leading figures of the UK jazz renaissance has never seen himself as part of any one sound or scene: he builds his own sonic universe instead. An Ever Changing View finds him at his most experimental yet, once again expanding his sound and production techniques to create his unique brand of deeply meditative music.
During the album's creation, he was staying in both a beautiful architect’s house with breath-taking sea views and a striking modernist house, where he composed what he saw “like a landscape painting”. In these new environments, Halsall wanted to capture “the feeling of openness and escapism” and to approach making music again from scratch. “I hit the reset button and wanted to have complete musical freedom,” he says. “It was a real exploration of sound.”
It was hearing jazz on the dancefloor as a teenager that first opened up new possibilities in Halsall’s mind and his music has long drawn on his love for the spiritual jazz of Alice Coltrane and Pharoah Sanders and contemporary electronica from the likes of Warp Records and Ninja Tune. An Ever Changing View melds those forms in a way that feels heady and, at times, even otherworldly. One of the album’s starting points was Halsall’s ever-expanding box of percussion, from congas and kalimba to various clusters of seeds, bells and chimes, which he sampled and looped to use as a foundation for the songs – a first for him and his band. Elevating, charming, totally modern jazz tracks jostle with deft warm magic realism; and laid back grooves with hand percussion, deep bass and the gorgeous glisten of the Fender Rhodes meet hip-hop beats. Halsall himself sparkles, illuminating his beautiful tapestries of sound with lithe, glistening elegiac trumpet.
Woods are in bloom again, inviting you to disappear into a new spectrum of colors and sounds and dreams on Perennial. Formed in Brooklyn in 2004, Woods have matured into a true independent institution, above and below the root, reliably emerging every few years with new music that grows towards the latest sky. Operating the Woodsist label since 2006 and curating the beloved homespun Woodsist Festival for the musical universe they’ve built, Perennial is the sound of a band on the edge of their 20th anniversary and still finding bold new ways to sound like (and challenge) themselves. Perennial grew from a bed of guitar/keyboard/drum loops by Woods head-in-chief Jeremy Earl, a form of winter night meditation that evolved into an unexplored mode of collaborative songwriting. With Earl’s starting points, he and bandmates Jarvis Taveniere and John Andrews convened, first at Earl’s house in New York, then at Panoramic House studio in Stinson Beach, California, site of sessions for 2020’s Strange To Explain. With a view of the sparkling Pacific and tape rolling, they began to build, jamming over the loops, switching instruments, and developing a few dozen building blocks. The album’s resulting 11 songs, 4 of them instrumental, are in the classic Woods mode--shimmering, familiar, fractionally unsettling--but with the half-invisible infinity boxes of Earl’s loops burbling beneath each like a mysterious underground source. From source to seed to bloom, each loop unfolds into something unpredictable, from the jeweled pop of the aching “Little Black Flowers” to the ecstatic starlit freak-beat of “Another Side.” They are blossomings both far-out and comforting, like the Mellotronic cloud-hopping of “Between the Past,” or sometimes just plain comforting, like the widescreen snowglobe fantasia of the instrumental “White Winter Melody,” touched by Connor Gallaher’s pedal steel. Woods have long used the studio as a place of songwriting, naming 2007’s At Rear House after their shared dwelling and recording space. But Perennial also carries with it an even longer view of Woods. Emerging from the process alongside the music was Earl’s reflection that “perennial plants and flowers are nature’s loops,” an idea rolling under the album’s lyrics like the loops themselves. It certainly applies to the band, too, who have quietly tended to a long, committed project of being a band in the weird-ass 21st century, both individually and communally. Though separated by coasts, the communal sprit carries through Earl, Taveniere, and Andrews’ collaboration, a living embodiment of the freedoms rediscovered every time a new collectively created piece of music emerges. For nearly two decades, Woods have survived subgenres, anchored in the fertile soil below hashtags like lo-fi and freak-folk and psychedelic and indie, and built a shared history that’s something to marvel at. As the flagship band for Woodsist, they’ve accumulated a striking extended family of collaborators (and Woods alum) that have made the label one of the most dependable imprints in the kaleidoscopic low-key underground. It’s a glow that’s transferred whole to the blissed-out Woodsist Fests held in Accord, New York in recent years, which have folded in a wide range of diverse sounds, from the the jazz cosmoverse of the Sun Ra Arkestra and adventurous legends Yo La Tengo, to a hard-to-even-count family tree of contemporaries, like Kevin Morby (who served a few tours of duty as Woods bassist) and Kurt Vile (who released his 2009 debut on Woodsist), a living community in sound. Perennial carries all of this, shaped by decades, but made in the moment, and here right now. The smell of the flowers doesn’t remain, but sometimes the flowers do. Jesse Jarnow Recorded and mixed by Jarvis Taveniere at Panoramic House in Stinson Beach, CA with additional recording at The Ship in Los Angeles, CA and Cottekill Bird Sanctuary in Stone Ridge, NY. Produced by Jarvis Taveniere and Jeremy Earl. Mastered by Timothy Stollenwerk at Stereophonic Mastering in Portland, OR. Jeremy Earl - vocals, guitars, drums, percussion, sk-5, mellotron, vibraphone, autoharp, loops Jarvis Taveniere - guitar, bass, upright bass, hammond, vocals John Andrews - piano, organs, mellotron, drums, vocals Connor Gallaher - Pedal Steel Kyle Forester - sax, wurlitzer
Woods are in bloom again, inviting you to disappear into a new spectrum of colors and sounds and dreams on Perennial. Formed in Brooklyn in 2004, Woods have matured into a true independent institution, above and below the root, reliably emerging every few years with new music that grows towards the latest sky. Operating the Woodsist label since 2006 and curating the beloved homespun Woodsist Festival for the musical universe they’ve built, Perennial is the sound of a band on the edge of their 20th anniversary and still finding bold new ways to sound like (and challenge) themselves. Perennial grew from a bed of guitar/keyboard/drum loops by Woods head-in-chief Jeremy Earl, a form of winter night meditation that evolved into an unexplored mode of collaborative songwriting. With Earl’s starting points, he and bandmates Jarvis Taveniere and John Andrews convened, first at Earl’s house in New York, then at Panoramic House studio in Stinson Beach, California, site of sessions for 2020’s Strange To Explain. With a view of the sparkling Pacific and tape rolling, they began to build, jamming over the loops, switching instruments, and developing a few dozen building blocks. The album’s resulting 11 songs, 4 of them instrumental, are in the classic Woods mode--shimmering, familiar, fractionally unsettling--but with the half-invisible infinity boxes of Earl’s loops burbling beneath each like a mysterious underground source. From source to seed to bloom, each loop unfolds into something unpredictable, from the jeweled pop of the aching “Little Black Flowers” to the ecstatic starlit freak-beat of “Another Side.” They are blossomings both far-out and comforting, like the Mellotronic cloud-hopping of “Between the Past,” or sometimes just plain comforting, like the widescreen snowglobe fantasia of the instrumental “White Winter Melody,” touched by Connor Gallaher’s pedal steel. Woods have long used the studio as a place of songwriting, naming 2007’s At Rear House after their shared dwelling and recording space. But Perennial also carries with it an even longer view of Woods. Emerging from the process alongside the music was Earl’s reflection that “perennial plants and flowers are nature’s loops,” an idea rolling under the album’s lyrics like the loops themselves. It certainly applies to the band, too, who have quietly tended to a long, committed project of being a band in the weird-ass 21st century, both individually and communally. Though separated by coasts, the communal sprit carries through Earl, Taveniere, and Andrews’ collaboration, a living embodiment of the freedoms rediscovered every time a new collectively created piece of music emerges. For nearly two decades, Woods have survived subgenres, anchored in the fertile soil below hashtags like lo-fi and freak-folk and psychedelic and indie, and built a shared history that’s something to marvel at. As the flagship band for Woodsist, they’ve accumulated a striking extended family of collaborators (and Woods alum) that have made the label one of the most dependable imprints in the kaleidoscopic low-key underground. It’s a glow that’s transferred whole to the blissed-out Woodsist Fests held in Accord, New York in recent years, which have folded in a wide range of diverse sounds, from the the jazz cosmoverse of the Sun Ra Arkestra and adventurous legends Yo La Tengo, to a hard-to-even-count family tree of contemporaries, like Kevin Morby (who served a few tours of duty as Woods bassist) and Kurt Vile (who released his 2009 debut on Woodsist), a living community in sound. Perennial carries all of this, shaped by decades, but made in the moment, and here right now. The smell of the flowers doesn’t remain, but sometimes the flowers do. Jesse Jarnow Recorded and mixed by Jarvis Taveniere at Panoramic House in Stinson Beach, CA with additional recording at The Ship in Los Angeles, CA and Cottekill Bird Sanctuary in Stone Ridge, NY. Produced by Jarvis Taveniere and Jeremy Earl. Mastered by Timothy Stollenwerk at Stereophonic Mastering in Portland, OR. Jeremy Earl - vocals, guitars, drums, percussion, sk-5, mellotron, vibraphone, autoharp, loops Jarvis Taveniere - guitar, bass, upright bass, hammond, vocals John Andrews - piano, organs, mellotron, drums, vocals Connor Gallaher - Pedal Steel Kyle Forester - sax, wurlitzer
- A1: Mondial Scoop (Number Iii) 2 04
- A2: Phasing Percussions A 2 23
- A3: Phasing Percussions B 1 41
- A4: Phasing Percussions C 1 27
- A5: Phasing Percussions D 1 59
- A6: Phasing Leitmotive A 2 40
- A7: Phasing Leitmotive B 1 10
- A8: Phasing March 2 07
- B1: Devil Dance A 2 31
- B2: Devil Dance B 2 30
- B3: Flower Dance A 2 42
- B4: Flower Dance B 1 08
- B5: Happy Smith (Number Ii) 1 14
- B6: Phasing Cymbals 1 56
- B7: Phasing Winds 0 51
- B8: Phasing Suspense A 1 46
- B9: Phasing Suspense B 1 23
Volume 1[23,49 €]
Every once in a while, a library record's absurd level of perfection will be enough to throw up your hands and pack it all in. "How will I ever find this record in the wild?!", you may despair. And, yes, up until now, Michel Gonet's Phasing News Volume 2 was such a work of this ridiculous standard. Not just hyper-rare, but hyper-brilliant. Its high points transcend the "library" genre. This is a record that has always been so so hot on secondary markets. And it's easy to hear why! It's a big big French library classic with mad crazy demand.
Opening with "Mondial Scoop (Number III)", it continues on from where the dramatic tracks of Phasing News Volume 1 left off. The group of "Phasing Percussions" get under your skin, sample material for days here. "Phasing Leitmotive A" and "Phasing Leitmotive B" hypnotise with their analogue synth loops. Yet it's "Phasing March", closing out the side, that is absolutely sensational. Timpani drums merge with open breaks making for an irresistible neck-snapping tour de force.
Side B starts with "Devil Dance A", an unbelievably infectious bass instrumental whilst "Devil Dance B" adds more percussion and bass flourishes and is all the more funky for it.
And now for the main event. "Flower Dance A". What can we even say? An instantly captivating, sparkling keys loop and glittering percussion neatly arranged atop a very strong bassline and drums, all lean and potent. The melody was lifted wholesale by The Soulsavers for "Rumblefish" back in 2002 and you can't really blame them. "Flower Dance B" removes the bassline for a lighter feel but that loop still burrows inside your brain. It's perfect.
"Happy Smith (Number II)" was used by Madlib for Erykah's "My People" (!!!) whilst the set closes out with a group of tense, phased workouts.
The audio for Phasing News Volume 2 has been remastered by Be With regular Simon Francis, ensuring this release sounds better than ever. Cicely Balston's expert skills have made sure nothing is lost in the cut whilst the original, iconic Tele Music house sleeve has been restored here at Be With HQ as the finishing touch to this long overdue re-issue.
Recorded in 1989 on the remaining ten minutes left at the end of Swiz’s Hell Yes I Cheated reel-to-reel and originally released at the time as a 33 RPM 7-inch, this 2023 release presents a 12-inch 45RPM version remastered by Tim Green with an extra song recovered from the tape archives of Jason Farrell. The brief story of Fury: At some point in 1989, members of Washington DC punk bands Swiz and Ignition formed Fury as a loose experiment with no intentions beyond being a diversion. The band existed for a few months, wrote six songs, and played two shows. Shawn Brown and Chris Thomson switched their musical roles from their regular bands as vocalist and bass player. The eyes-closed leap into those unfamiliar positions imbued the recording its feeling of deranged chaos, while the well-seasoned duo of Jason Farrell and Alex Daniels nailed down each song with the signature agility and power displayed in their more familiar work together. The recording is a vexing listen that sounds like a Neapolitan swirl of Swiz, Void, and the Germs. Was it precision theatre? Or was it a natural step back into a more primitive and comfortable place for four young veterans that just wanted to fill the daily void of existential restlessness? The track “Resurrection” famously made it onto the final Swiz LP. The final track “Last One” got cut off halfway through recording and the band looped and spliced it into a dizzying psychedelic nightmare / masterpiece. The recording has faded into somewhat of an obsurity, a footnote to the larger careers of all of its members. In its time, it was revered by a small cult of obsessives from numerous early ’90s underground punk circles. It notably had a pronounced influence on the emerging Gravity Records scene, where its echoes can be heard on quite a few of the earlier releases. Resurrection is finally getting the deluxe treatment that it deserves after 34 years!
This record"s origin story is as elusive as Pharoah was about everything Pharoah. It was born out of a misunderstanding between him and the India Navigation producer Bob Cummins, and was recorded at a crossroads in his career with a group of musicians so unlikely that they were never all in the same room again. There was a guitarist who was also a spiritual guru, an organist who would go on to co-write and produce "The Message", and a classically trained pianist - his wife at the time, Bedria Sanders - who played the harmonium despite never having seen one. At times ambient and serene, at others funky and modal, PHAROAH radically departed from his earlier work. It would become one of the artist"s most beloved records and one of the great works of the 20th century. With Pharoah Sanders" blessing, the limited edition embossed version of this 2 LP box set presents the definitive, remastered version of PHAROAH, his seminal record from 1977, along with two previously unreleased live performances of his masterpiece "Harvest Time". This is the first official rerelease of PHAROAH, which has been bootlegged often since its original release in 1977. These exceptional live versions of "Harvest Time" - which Pharoah performed during an intense European tour in the summer of "77 and which are included here for the first time - turn the original, beloved composition on its head. PHAROAH will be released a year after the legendary tenor saxophonists" untimely passing, and two years after the release of what was to become his final album, the widely acclaimed PROMISES, a collaboration between the composer Floating Points and Pharoah Sanders, featuring the London Symphony Orchestra. The first pressing of this limited edition box set comes with an embossed cover and is accompanied by never-before-shared photographs and ephemera, as well as a 24-page booklet featuring rarely seen photographs, interviews with many of the participants, and a conversation with Pharoah himself.
One of Death Metal's biggest bands, DYING FETUS return with their highly anticipated new album, Make Them Beg For Death. Recorded in Baltimore with longtime producer Steve Wright and mixed by Mark Lewis (Cannibal Corpse), Make Them Beg For Death contains every DYING FETUS hallmark. The veteran Death Metal band’s ninth album is fast, intense, and brimming with unstoppable grooves. Monstrous riffs, blast beats, unstoppable hooks, and earth-moving grooves define their catalog. “We put our own twist on Death Metal,” explains co-vocalist/guitarist John Gallagher. “We were like most bands, starting in the garage, drinking beer, having a little fun on the weekend, finding the right amps through trial and error. We blended aspects of bands we liked – Suffocation, Obituary, Deicide, and Cannibal Corpse, among others; the dual vocal approach of Carcass – and made them our own. ‘Let’s make it moshy, let’s make it slammy.’” Make Them Beg For Death delivers savage beatdowns equally designed to pulverize and mesmerize. “It follows on from where Wrong One To Fuck With left off,” drummer Trey Williams promises. “We don’t need to participate in the technical death metal arms race. We’ve got the big guns, and we’ve proven that. It’s all about pointing them in the right direction, so to speak.” To the men of DYING FETUS, the mission is straightforward. “The philosophy is the same now as it was when the band started,” Gallagher confirms. “To write catchy riffs and to make it memorable. Whatever style of music you’re doing, make it something people want to hear repeatedly.”
- 1: Hello
- 2: A Love From Outer Space
- 3: Crack Up
- 4: Timewind
- 5: What's All This Then?
- 6: Snow Joke
- 7: Off Into Space
- 8: And I Say
- 9: Yeti
- 10: Conundrum
- 11: Honeysuckleswallow
- 12: Long Body
- 13: In A Circle
- 14: Fast Ka
- 15: Miles Apart
- 16: Pop
- 17: Mars
- 18: Spook
- 19: Sugarwings
- 20: Back Home
- 21: Down
- 22: Supervixens
- 23: Insect Love
- 24: Sorry
- 25: Catch My Drift
- 26: Challenge
A.R. Kive collates the three most astonishing works from that most miraculous of duos - A.R. Kane - comprising the ‘Up Home’ EP from 1988 that signified the band’s dawning realisation of their own powers and possibilities, their legendary debut LP ‘sixty nine’ (1988) and its kaleidoscopic, prophetic double-LP follow up ‘i’ (1989).
In founder-member Rudy Tambala’s new remastering, the music on these pivotal transmissions from the birth of dream pop, have been reinvigorated and re-infused with a new power, a new depth and intimacy, a new height and immensity. Vivid, timeless and yet always timely whenever they’re recalled, these records still force any listener to realise that despite the habits of retrospective myth-making and the
safe neutering effects of ‘genre’, thirty years have in no way dimmed how resistant and dissident to critical habits of categorisation A.R. Kane always were. Never quite ‘avant-pop’ or ‘shoegaze’ or ‘post-rock’ or any of those sobriquets designed to file and categorise, A.R. Kive is a reminder that those genres had to be coined, had to be invented precisely to contain the astonishing sound of A.R. Kane, because
previous formulations couldn’t come close to their sui generis sound and suggestiveness. This is music that pointed towards futures which a whole generation of artists and sonic explorers would map out. Now beautifully repackaged, remastered and fleshed out with extensive sleeve notes and accompanying materials, ‘A.R. Kive’ reveals that 35 years on it’s still a struggle to defuse the revolutionary and inspirational possibility of A.R. Kane’s music.
A.R. Kane were formed in 1986 by Rudy Tambala and Alex Ayuli, two second-generation immigrants who grew up together in Stratford, East London. From the off the pair were outsiders in the culturally mixed (cockney/Irish/West Indian/Asian) milieu of the East End, with Alex and Rudy’s folks first generation immigrants from Nigeria and Malawi, respectively. The two of them quickly developed and fostered an innate and near-telepathic mutual understanding forged in musical, literary and artistic exploration. Like a lot of second-generation immigrants, they were ferocious autodidacts in all kinds of areas, especially around music and literature. Diving deep into the music of afro-futurist luminaries such as Sun Ra, Miles Davis, Lee Perry and
Hendrix, as well as devouring the explorations of lysergic noise and feedback from contemporaries like Sonic Youth and Butthole Surfers, they also thoroughly immersed themselves in the alternate literary realities of sci-fi and ancient history (the fascination with the arcane that gave the band their name), all to feed their voracious cultural thirsts and intellectual curiosity.
It was seeing the Cocteau Twins performing on Channel 4 show the Tube that spurred A.R. Kane into being - “They had no drummer. They used tapes and technology and Liz Fraser looked completely otherworldly with those big eyes. And the noise coming out of Robin’s guitar! That was the ‘Fuck! We could do that! We could express ourselves like that!’ moment”, recalls Tambala - and through a mix of
confidence, chutzpah, ad hoc almost-mythical live shows and sheer innocent will the duo debuted with the astonishing ‘When You’re Sad’ single for One Little Indian in 1986. Immediately dubbed a ‘black Jesus & Mary Chain’ by a press unsure of WHERE to put a black band clearly immersed in feedback and noise, what was immediately apparent for listeners was just how much more was going on here - a
tapping of dub’s stealth and guile, a resonant umbilicus back to fusion and jazz, the music less a conjuration of past highs than a re-summoning of lost spirits.
The run of singles and EPs that followed picked up increasingly rapt reviews in the press, but it was the ‘Up Home EP’ released in 1988 on their new home, Rough Trade that really suggested something immense was about to break. Simon Reynolds noted the EP was: Their most concentrated slab of iridescent awesomeness and a true pinnacle of an era that abounded with astounding landmarks of guitar-reinvention, A.R. Kane at their most elixir-like.
If anything, the remastered ‘Up Home’ that forms the first part of ‘A.R. Kive’ is even more dazzling, even more startling than it was when it first emerged, and listening now you again wonder not just about how many bands christened ‘shoegaze’ tried to emulate it, but how all of them fell so far short of its lambent, pellucid wonder. This remains intrinsically experimental music but with none of the frowning orthodoxy those words imply. A.R. Kane, thanks to that second generation auto-didacticism were always supremely aware about the interstices of music and magic, but at the same time gloriously free in the way they explored that connection within their own sound, fascinated always with the creation of ‘perfect mistakes’ and the possibilities inherent in informed play.
‘sixty nine’ the group’s debut LP that emerged in 1988 had
critics and listeners struggling to fit language around A.R. Kane’s sound. As a title it was telling - the year of ‘Bitches Brew’, the year of ‘In A Silent Way’, the erotic möbius between two lovers - and as originally coined by the band themselves, ‘dream pop’ (before it became a free-floating signifier of vague import) was entirely apposite for the music A.R. Kane were making. Crafted in a dark small basement studio in which Tambala recalls the duo had “complete freedom - We wanted to go as far out as we could, and in doing so we discovered the point where it stops being music”. There was an irresistibly dreamy, somnambulant, sensual and almost surreal flow to ‘sixty nine’s sound, but also real darkness/dankness, the ruptures of the primordial and the reverberations of the subconscious, within the grooves of remarkable songs like ‘Dizzy’ and ‘Crazy Blue’. Alex’s plangent vocals floated and surged amidst exquisite peals of refracted feedback but crucially there was BASS here, lugubrious and funky and full of dread, sonic pleasure and sonic disturbance crushed together to make music with a center so deep it felt subcutaneous, music constructed from both the accidental and the deliberate, generous enough to dance with both serendipity and chaos. ‘sixty nine’ remains - especially in this remastered iteration - ravishing, revolutionary.
The final part of this ‘A.R. Kive’ contains 1989’s astonishing double-LP ‘i’ which followed up on ‘sixty nine’s promise and saw the duo fully unleash their experimental pop sensibilities over 26 tracks, plunging the A.R. Kane sound into a dazzlingly kaleidoscopic vision of pop experiment and play. Suffused with new digital technologies and combining searingly sweet and danceable pop with perhaps the duo’s strangest and boundary-pushing compositions, the album did exactly what a great double-set should do - indulge the artists sprawling pursuit of their own imaginations but always with a concision and an ear for those moments where pop both transcends and toys with the listeners expectations. Jason Ankeny has noted that “In retrospect, ‘i’ now seems like a crystal ball prophesying virtually every major musical development of the 1990s; from the shimmering techno of ‘A Love from Outer Space’ to the liquid dub of ‘What’s All This Then?’, from the alien drone-pop of ‘Conundrum’ to the sinister shoegazer miasma of ‘Supervixens’ — it’s all here, an underground road map for countless bands to follow.” Perhaps the most overwhelmingly all-encompassing transmission from A.R. Kane, ‘i’ bookended a three year period in which the duo had made some of the most prophetic and revelatory music of the entire decade.
After ‘i’ the duo’s output became more sporadic with Tambala and Ayuli moving in different directions both geographically and musically, with only 1994’s ‘New Clear Child’ a crystalline re-fraction of future and past echoes of jazz, folk and soul, before the duo went their separate ways. Since then, A.R. Kane’s music has endured, not thanks to the usual sepia’d false memories that seem to maintain interest in so much of the musical past, but because those who hear A.R. Kane music and are changed irrevocably, have to share that universe which A.R. Kane opened up, with anyone else who will listen. Far more than other lauded documents of the late 80s it still sounds astonishingly fresh, astonishingly livid and vivid and necessary and NOW.
Described as a musician's musician, Allen's sound is built on a foundation of pop, rock, Americana, Roots and Blues influences. Jon Allen has a soulful, whiskeysoaked voice and a striking gift for melody. He has never been content to be pigeonholed, as demonstrated by the eclecticism of his albums to date.Of the album Jon writes ''The last few years have felt like a pressure cooker slowly increasing to boiling point. There is sense of threat and a feeling of impending doom. Living in a large urban centre during a global pandemic brought out a sense of paranoia. We became more aware of our need for space, our need for silence and to be close to nature to get above the noise of a city. I'm absorbing all the time and everything from the famous Will Smith slap to missing people inspired the songs. How close are we all to the tipping point? What are we likely to do in heat of the moment? What will stress do to us when pushed? But light
follows dark, and there are the moments of simplicity and you can count your blessings for the simple things life has to offer".
Following nearly 20 years of working together as a trio, and numerous cross-collaborations in different configuration between them, Ideologic Organ presents Placelessness, the debut full-length by Chris Abrahams, Oren Ambarchi, and Robbie Avenaim, comprising two long-form works at juncture of ambient music, minimalism, rigorous experimentalism and improvisation, and machine music. Having carved distinct pathways across a diverse number of musical idioms for decades, Chris Abrahams, Oren Ambarchi, and Robbie Avenaim are each, respectively, among the most noteworthy and groundbreaking figures to have emerged from Australia's thriving experimental music scene. Ambarchi and Avenaim first encountered Abrahams when seeing the Necks - the project that has served as the primary vehicle for his singular approach to the piano since its founding in 1987 - together during the late 1980s, not long after having met in Sydney's underground music community. The pair's collaborations date back more than 35 years, criss-crossing Ambarchi's pioneering solo and ensemble work for guitar and Avenaim's visionary efforts for SARPS (Semi Automated Robotic Percussion System), robotic and kinetic extensions to his drum kit. In 2004, fate brought the three together in a trio performance at the What Is Music? Festival, the annual touring showcase of experimental music founded and run by Ambarchi and Avenaim between 1994-2012. For the nearly two decades since, Abrahams, Ambarchi, and Avenaim have intermittently reformed in exclusively live contexts, in Australia and abroad, cultivating and refining the fertile ground first tilled in that early meeting. Placelessness is the first album to present this remarkable trio's efforts in recorded form. Placelessness is the joining of three highly individualised streams, working in perfect harmony; the point at which friendship, mutual respect, and decades of creative exploration produce a singular spectrum of sound. Featuring Abrahams on piano, Ambarchi on guitar, and Avenaim on drums, the album's two sides draw on each artist's enduring dedication to long-form composition. Its two pieces, Placelessness I and Placelessness II, initially began as a single, 40 minute work, before being divided and reworked into distinct, complimentary gestures for the corresponding sides of the LP. Beginning with restrained clusters of reverberant piano tones, Placelessness I progresses at an almost glacial pace, with Abrahams' interventions increasing met by sparse responses, darting within vast ambiences, on guitar and percussion by Ambarchi and Avenaim. Remarkably conversational within its convergences of tonal, rhythmic, and textural abstraction, over the work's duration a progressive sense of tension unfurls and contracts, refusing release, as each of the ensemble's members contribute to an increasingly tangled sense of density at its resolve. While an entirely autonomous work, Placelessness II rapidly realises a distillation of the energy hinted at across the length of its predecessor. Following a luring passage of harmonious calm, Abrahams' launches into shimmering lines of repeating arpeggios, complimented at each escalation of tempo by Avenaim's machine gun fire percussion work and Ambarchi's masterful delivery of tonality and texture, as the trio collectively generate dense sheets of pointillistic ambience within which individual identity is almost lost, before slowly unspooling into unexpected abstractions and dissonances that deftly intervene with the work's inner logic and calm. What could easily be termed a maximalist take on Minimalism, Placelessness is a masterstroke of contemporary, real time composition, that blurs the boundaries between ambient music, experimentalism, free improvisation, and machine music. Drawing on Chris Abrahams, Oren Ambarchi, and Robbie Avenaim's decades of respective solo and collaborative practice, and the culmination of nearly twenty years of working together as a trio, it's two durational pieces - Placelessness I and Placelessness II - take form with a startling sense of effortlessness and grace, neither shying away from explicit beauty or rigorously tension within their forms.




















