Suche:point no point

Dark Green 12" Vinyl Limited to 1000 Vinyl Includes Exclusive bonus track 'Restless'

“The things you hear when you’re alone. Walking through Mount Royal or other wooded areas you might notice a branch break. As much as I value my alone time and the subtle things you can pick up around and within yourself in those moments, a certain loneliness and anxiety permeates the quiet at some point. The past couple years created ample opportunity for that anxiety and loneliness to stretch its legs and make itself comfortable. This record was born out of weeks of willing a form of peace and inspiration into my surroundings. A large part of that came from working with Leanne Macomber on some vocals. Through a desire to form new connections and throw more humanity into the work. We made a variety of song sketches that I mostly reworked into the final recordings here. We spoke a lot about where our heads were at, certain key phrases, triggers and emotions. Joel Ford, whom I worked on Dawn Chorus with, mixed the record and helped me wrangle a few cats to get this across the finish line. Restless at home in Canada, feeling the restlessness of all my friends and loved ones I kept in touch with as much as possible, trying to make something that made the quiet a bit more peaceful."

In March 2020, Tahiti 80 had a plan to start recording their new album in the studio. That plan, of course, along with everything else in the world, got derailed. But the five-piece group was resilient and resourceful. They quickly shifted to a socially distanced plan B that included file swapping and virtual sessions, all refereed by producer Julien Vignon. The result, due for release in March 2022, is the buoyant Here With You, a collection of eleven upbeat songs that unfold like a prescription for a post-pandemic panacea.

“When lockdown in France happened, we said, 'We're not going to stay at home not doing anything,'” says singer-guitarist Xavier Boyer. “And our new plan became a hopeful thing, waking up every morning and seeing what the other guys had worked on. It wasn't always easy, but this new method allowed a freer approach where we could really go all the way with an idea without being influenced by each other’s suggestions. It must've been overwhelming for Julien, who ended up selecting all our arrangements. But he stayed positive all the way through.”

To help stay inspired and focused during their time in isolation, the band created a mood board, with the centerpiece a photo of an early '90s rave in the UK.

Boyer says, “Whenever you see pictures from this era, people seem very innocent. There are no cell phones and everybody is in to what they are experiencing. We kept that picture in mind as a kind of mantra that would help everyone feel connected to this idea of people celebrating, gathering and just having fun. We were missing the connection with people, and thought it would be great if we could create music that would inspire that kind of emotion.”

Indeed, the songs on Here With You are brimming the feeling of communion that we've all been missing over the past two years. It's there in the catchy opener Lost in the Sound, which walks the walk with Chic guitar flicks, urban nightfall sparkles and an inviting chorus (“Your heart grooves like a thousand 808s on the right time”). It's there in the Jackson 5-style syncopated bounce of “Vintage Creem,” the lush, dreamy “Breakfast in L.A.” and the panoramic sweep of “UFO.” And it's there in the first single “Hot,” which matches an irresistible groove with a neon-lit, percolating arrangement that evokes the disco clubs of 1979.

What's remarkable is that though Tahiti 80 displays a clear affection for sounds of the past, from bubble gum to '70s soul, they never trade in mere pastiche. Their take is more a slightly warped and playful carnival mirror mash-up of classic pop styles, given depth through Boyer's hang-gliding, coolly emotive vocals and lyrics that often rub against the euphoric grain of the music.

“I like to think of songs as a three-minute drama,” says Boyer. “This concept of drama definitely adds different levels to our music. There's the melody, the lyrics, then the production that can maybe emphasize or counterbalance the interaction between the yin and yang in a song.

“There's a difference between the very upbeat, sunshine-y soft rock and the lyrics, even on our past albums,” he continues. “Not dark, but a little more melancholy, and also looking for some kind of motivation, talking to yourself. Like with a lot of Motown songs, you get that feeling where you body’s dancing while your mind’s reflecting, reminiscing.”

That alluring blend of happy-sad has been a signature part of the Tahiti 80 sound from the time Boyer and bassist Pedro Resende formed the group in 1993, as students at the University of Rouen. Taking their name from a souvenir t-shirt given to Boyer's father in 1980, the duo recruited guitarist Mederic Gontier in 1994, and with the addition of drummer Sylvain Marchand a year later, the lineup was complete. The foursome released a self-produced and self-financed EP, 20 Minutes, in 1996, which resulted a record deal with French label Atmospheriques in 1998. Their full-length debut Puzzle, produced with Ivy's Andy Chase and mixed by Tore Johansson, went gold and featured the international hit “Heartbeat” that established the band throughout Europe and Asia.

In the years since, Tahiti 80 – with the additions of Raphaël Léger on drums and Hadrien Grange on keys - has released eight acclaimed albums. The band has fused what MOJO called a “glorious entente of old and new technology” (including singles like “Yellow Butterfly,” “1000 Times,” “Sound Museum,” “Crush!” and “Big Day,” which was featured on a FIFA video game soundtrack), while collaborating with such producers and arrangers as Richard Swift, Tony Lash and Richard Anthony Hewson, who famously arranged The Beatles' “Long and Winding Road.” Boyer has also put out two solo albums, the first under the anagram Axe Riverboy and the second under his name. In 2019, the band released Fear of an Acoustic Planet, a stripped-down reimagining of some of their best-loved tracks from the previous twenty years. It served not only as a look back but a reminder of their formidable songwriting skills.

Boyer is definitely a student of the timeless three-minute pop song format pioneered by '60s artists like The Beatles and The Beach Boys. He says, “I see it as kind of a frame for a painting. Most of the songs on this album, I wrote a verse, pre-chorus and chorus. There aren't many middle eights. I wanted it to be very concise. I feel like people have less attention. There's so much music. It's too easy to switch off or skip to another track, so I want to hook the listener. The three-minute song is kind of an easy code to crack, but at the same time you have to figure out a new way to tell the stories that we've heard before.”

And the stories on Here With You are very much about the longing for connection. Of the album title, Boyer says, “In the world right now, that can mean a lot of different things. Like missing our fans, missing going to concerts. In a way, it can be a statement of what happened last year, and a wish of 'I want to be here with you again.' It's our ninth album. We've had some had some very open, conceptual titles like Puzzle, Activity Center. Sometimes they were more specific like Fosbury orWallpaper for the Soul. Here with You, seems more personal, more engaging in terms of relationships. When I suggested that title, everyone in the band said, 'Yeah, that's it.'”

Until Tahiti 80 can resume a full tour schedule, Boyer says he hopes the new record will make that personal connection. “If I see from the point of view as a music fan, sometimes I see albums I like as companions throughout my life. So if we can be a part of people's existence, even if it's a song that reminds them of the time they were driving with the windows open and it was sunny. Or a sad song that resonates with them after a breakup. That's what we're all looking for when we're making music. You do this very personal thing and you want it to touch as many people as possible.”

Loraine James' new ambient-minded alias, Whatever The Weather, follows her 2021 solo LP Reflection (Hyperdub). In contrast to her club music sensibilities, this mode embraces keyboard improvisations and vocal experimentation, foregoing percussive structure in favor of shaping atmosphere and tone. From this divergent headspace emerged new coordinates and climates, a new outlet: Whatever The Weather. A longtime fan of ambient-adjacent Ghostly International artists such as Telefon Tel Aviv (who she'd ask to master the album), HTRK (whose singer Jonnine Standish features on Nothing), and Lusine (whom she remixed at the start of 2021), James saw the label as the ideal home for this eponymous album of airy, transportive tracks as they began to formulate. The titling on Whatever The Weather works in degrees; simple parameters allowing James to focus on the nuances as a mood-builder. Her suspended universe fluctuates; freezing, thawing, swaying and blooming from track to track. James describes her jam-based approach for the sessions as "free-flowing, stopping when I felt like I was done," allowing her subconscious to lead. The improvisations have an intrinsic fluidity to them, akin to sudden weather events passing over a single environment - the location feels fixed while the conditions vary. The album opens at "25°C," a sunshower of soft hums and keys. As the longest piece, it serves to establish stability, the inflection point where any move above or below this temperate breeze breaks the bliss. Given James' proclivity for organized chaos in her production, this scene is fleeting, naturally. From that utopia, we plummet to the most melancholic read on the meter, "0°C," its isolated synth line traversing a hailstorm of steely beats and static. Next, the dial jumps for the propulsive standout "17°C." Like a timelapse of springtime in the city, the single accelerates across a frenzy of frames; car horns, screeching brakes, and crosswalk chatter fill the pauses between rapid jolts of multi-shaped percussion. For portions of the work, James leans neo-classical, rendering pensive vignettes of cascading piano keys and warm delay. "2°C (Intermittent Rain)" ends the A-Side on a short and stormy loop; a resulting sense of reset permeates the B-Side's opener, "10°C." The producer mingles intuitively on echoed organ, locking into and abandoning atypical rhythms that suggest her jazz-oriented interests. "4°C" and "30°C" display the range of James' vocal experiments. The former chops and pitches her voice to a rhythmic, otherworldly effect, the latter reveals James at her most straightforward (she cites Deftones' Chino Moreno and American Football's Mike Kinsella as inspirations), singing tenderly and unobstructed for nearly the duration before beats collide in the climax. Whatever The Weather closes at "36°C," while a sweltering heat by any standards the track eases along comfortably on a chorus of synth waves, acting as an apt bookend for this evocative, sky-tracing collection that started in a similar state. Cyclical, seasonal, and unpredictable, true to its namesake.

Loraine James' new ambient-minded alias, Whatever The Weather, follows her 2021 solo LP Reflection (Hyperdub). In contrast to her club music sensibilities, this mode embraces keyboard improvisations and vocal experimentation, foregoing percussive structure in favor of shaping atmosphere and tone. From this divergent headspace emerged new coordinates and climates, a new outlet: Whatever The Weather. A longtime fan of ambient-adjacent Ghostly International artists such as Telefon Tel Aviv (who she'd ask to master the album), HTRK (whose singer Jonnine Standish features on Nothing), and Lusine (whom she remixed at the start of 2021), James saw the label as the ideal home for this eponymous album of airy, transportive tracks as they began to formulate. The titling on Whatever The Weather works in degrees; simple parameters allowing James to focus on the nuances as a mood-builder. Her suspended universe fluctuates; freezing, thawing, swaying and blooming from track to track. James describes her jam-based approach for the sessions as "free-flowing, stopping when I felt like I was done," allowing her subconscious to lead. The improvisations have an intrinsic fluidity to them, akin to sudden weather events passing over a single environment - the location feels fixed while the conditions vary. The album opens at "25°C," a sunshower of soft hums and keys. As the longest piece, it serves to establish stability, the inflection point where any move above or below this temperate breeze breaks the bliss. Given James' proclivity for organized chaos in her production, this scene is fleeting, naturally. From that utopia, we plummet to the most melancholic read on the meter, "0°C," its isolated synth line traversing a hailstorm of steely beats and static. Next, the dial jumps for the propulsive standout "17°C." Like a timelapse of springtime in the city, the single accelerates across a frenzy of frames; car horns, screeching brakes, and crosswalk chatter fill the pauses between rapid jolts of multi-shaped percussion. For portions of the work, James leans neo-classical, rendering pensive vignettes of cascading piano keys and warm delay. "2°C (Intermittent Rain)" ends the A-Side on a short and stormy loop; a resulting sense of reset permeates the B-Side's opener, "10°C." The producer mingles intuitively on echoed organ, locking into and abandoning atypical rhythms that suggest her jazz-oriented interests. "4°C" and "30°C" display the range of James' vocal experiments. The former chops and pitches her voice to a rhythmic, otherworldly effect, the latter reveals James at her most straightforward (she cites Deftones' Chino Moreno and American Football's Mike Kinsella as inspirations), singing tenderly and unobstructed for nearly the duration before beats collide in the climax. Whatever The Weather closes at "36°C," while a sweltering heat by any standards the track eases along comfortably on a chorus of synth waves, acting as an apt bookend for this evocative, sky-tracing collection that started in a similar state. Cyclical, seasonal, and unpredictable, true to its namesake.

In literature an unreliable narrator is a narrator that can't be fully trusted, a
character whose credibility for some reason or another has been
compromised
When I chose to use the expression as the title for my new album, I did so
because I felt it resonated with me on a number of different levels.First of all, it
serves as an accurate way of describing my own lyrical universe, which has
always been a mash- up of real- life events and fiction. No one can tell for sure
what is real and what is made up. At times, even I find there can be a fluid
transition between the two poetic worlds. When I look back on my work, it is often
hard to tell where reality and fiction overlap.
Another factor that undoubtably and unavoidably bled into my writing this time,
was that I finished most of the new lyrics in the weeks and days leading up to the
2020 US Presidential election.
More than any time before, we witnessed a toxic political campaign that
consciously sought to mislead people. And any attempt at raising critical
questions and points of view were brutally brushed off and dismissed as fake
news. Several political narratives played out at the same time, all claiming they
exclusively owned THE TRUTH. A game of smoke and mirrors that for a lot of
people made it hard to decide who to believe. Who was the truthful and who was
the unreliable narrator of the political game?

Merrin Karras’ 2020 foray into extended compositions combining his Berlin School tendencies and expansive ambient is finally pressed-up on cloudy transparent 12”. Remastered by Rafael Anton Irisarri and featuring revisited art by Noah M / Keep Adding.
~
Conceived and composed in two days, Silent Planet is Brendan's first attempt at a fully continuous piece of music. Normally, albums under his Merrin Karras guise take many months, if not years, to put together:

"I wanted to challenge myself to create a mini-album in a short amount of time, not to think too much about it, but just to let it flow and see what happened. Everything was created in one project, but it's comprised of six distinct sections. Several motifs and elements are re-used at various points throughout the work. It's also the first time that I've used percussion elements in a Merrin Karras work".
The mood spans from brooding to almost Balearic at points, with strong elements of Berlin School and Space Music, classic Trance, and Ambient all intertwined.

"We’ve reached book IV in Rupert Clervaux’s series of “Zibaldone” audio diaries, at which point we find him telling a different kind of story.

“The first three all had very specific themes, while this one feels a little bit looser and doesn’t have just one thematic thrust,” he tells me, which maybe explains why listening feels a bit like annotating. I’m underlining, emphasizing, drawing arrows from here to there, highlighting symbols and noting motifs, realising, questioning, eureka-ing. An impressionistic meaning’s been encoded in and we’re lucky to be given the space to play that most poetic and boundless of all mental games: narrativization.

There are no wrong answers, but Rupert offers some clues either way. If there’s any cipher here it’s “something like a meditation on the concept of ‘depth’––in all its connotative forms.” Think below the surface, (the) underground, yawning oceans, being ‘down in the dirt’, soil, roots, rootlessness, pulling at the dregs, collapse, profundity, stable and unstable horizons, distance, perspective, intuition, not to mention relative opposites: to be shallow, to be above, to be beyond.

It’s got me thinking of Bresson’s “Bring things together that have as yet never been brought together and did not seem predisposed to be so.” His: “Dig deep where you are. Don't slip off elsewhere.” Rupert has realized these—two favourite goals of mine!—here.

This is music that catches you at your own periphery, gives pause, has you offering a little “huh” to, asking “I wonder why” to. Again, it’s got me musing on another mindworm, this time from New York publisher and multi-sensory reading room Dispersed Holdings: “Feeling-making-knowing feedback loop; cartography of feeling; water as text, read to know the land beneath and around it, and body as reader.”

Is it ok to offer up these other contexts out of context? I think so, because Zibaldone IV articulates a similarly swirly tone. Like, we’ve got Rebecca Solnit talking through Kropotkin’s “Mutual Aid” and later calling out to Michael Ruppert a ways away, and “Easy Rider” is playing in the wings. We’ve got Susan Sontag magically contextualizing Mariah Carey with poet Thylias Moss triangulating in order to sketch out (Rupert again) “something a little more interesting than wilful eclecticism or that laboured and patronising kind of pop-savvy.”

Are we following? Whether yes or no Vanessa Bedoret follows on with a performance of a performance of Moss’s 'Water Road’: to be once or twice removed, via strange transitions, purposeful confusions, and, suddenly, seagulls. We’re on a boat with Ingeborg Bachmann—and how I wish I could actually be! But maybe thanks to this music I can as literature, films, friends, lethargy, coincidences, little mental links, eternal wormholes, lingering notions come together to imagine something better."

Text by Natalia Panzer

Stalactite is a collaborative recording project by renown Japanese artist and multi-instrumentalist Susumu Mukai AKA Zongamin and producer Drew Brown, whose discography ranges from his own group Off World to a variety of integral productions for artists such as Blonde Redhead and Beck. Their self-titled debut for the ESP Institute is a grand gesture, a broad stroke that illustrates both singular focus and vast complexity, which is no easy feat considering the almost oppressive immediacy and availability of tools at the disposal of contemporary artists. There’s a level of creative confidence and discipline needed to work so fundamentally, and whether or not the listener has an appetite refined enough to process the tasteful subtleties throughout this production, these same subtleties accumulate regardless and land that listener in a highly considered and developed space. The deceptively naive melodic approach consistent across these nine tracks can feel transparent, familiar to a point the listener can anticipate its path, but when listening with acute focus we find a variable range of texture, temperature, depth and negative space. As alumni of the Minimal, Cold Wave, Synth Pop era, Susumu and Drew successfully personify a motley crew of synthesizers to work in concert, reduced to their core personalities and presented as their most honest selves — austere, shy, cinematic, percolating, bulbous, glistening, cantankerous, rubberized, clumsy and animated. Each masterfully paired with complimentary counterparts, these players assemble into a sound-stage we typically find in live recordings, enveloping and inviting us to the center of an acoustic cavern to wade through sonic impressions of monolithic stalactites.

Planet Mu presents ‘ADDLE’ – Bogdan Raczynski’s first album of new music in 15 years. Marking a change from the high-octane jungle tekno braindance for which he is most commonly known, here we find the Polish American musician in a more melodic and zen-like place of peace, which is ergonomic and decluttered, whilst also bittersweet and tinged with melancholy. ‘ADDLE’ is closest in spirit to 2001’s tender ‘myloveilove’, or the light-hearted ditties of this year’s ‘BANANS’ EP, but is also a markedly new milestone. A robust and bottom-heavy rhythm section juxtaposes with sad electronic tear jerkers, at points laced with the soft cooing wail of his vocals, which are loaded with a haunting, heavy and almost wounded emotion. Bogdan comments “Calm is great. You need to take a breather in the eye of the storm now and then. But the real growth happens in turbulence, when your feelings oscillate in and out of sync. It’s not dry land you’re after. You’re trying to build a new island while on a piddly raft. Beleaguered and weary you lay the foundation with your bare hands while the rain lashes your back; a new place for you and yours to moor yourself to until the next storm hits. ‘ADDLE’ is about that storm, its adjacent periphery, and what you look like, in and out, when you set foot. As space and time push against you, that process of adapting becomes an anchor. Among that state of being addled, out of flow, seemingly untethered, there is beauty.”

Although less unhinged and riotous than some of his previous work, ‘ADDLE’ is no less impactful. Lean, punchy and purposeful, this seemingly simple combination of beats and melody belies a razor sharp skill, which bursts with verve and virtuosity. Across its eight unique and moving tracks the listener experiences tenderness, feelings somewhere between unease and comfort, and a sense of reflection, with Bogdan seemingly gazing at twinkling stars, but with his view distorted by welling-up. Sonically, spaces range from razor-sharp choppage, juddering heavyweight head-nodders, bit-crushed siren squall and something akin to Philip Glass’ ‘Candyman’ score played through a high-tech-fairy-tale music box. There’s also a warming, life-affirming moment as close to deep house as Bogdan will ever comfortably get, neck-snapping metallic percussion, Casiotone on steroids and reverberant warehouse throb. Booming drum machines are a prominent factor too – reminiscent of early hip hop instrumentals – but spirited off somewhere, lost in purgatory. Bogdan Raczynski (born 1977) is a Polish-American electronic musician. Raczynski’s work draws inspiration from the chaotic breakbeats of jungle and hardcore rave as well as traditional Polish music and other sources. He has collaborated with Bjork, remixed Autechre, CLPNG and Jonsi from Sigur Ross, and toured with Aphex Twin, who commented how “his records are so underrated.” Bogdan was also a roster mainstay of Richard James’s seminal Rephlex label, with additional releases on Warp, Ghostly, Disciples and Unknown to the Unknown. A keen proponent of tech, he created a sample pack using pollution and recently collaborated with Polyend on a custom made banana-themed tracker.

At its essence BAIT is a band that has become a long distance relationship. For 18 months it’s lived in the cloud, with a rope around its neck. We’ve all had enough restrictions but restrictions force you to work with what you’ve got. Restrictions are precisely what BAIT needed to breathe out, sink to the bottom and propel itself back into the light of day clutching a new record.

‘Sea Change’ is the debut full-length album from BAIT. It’s a digital post-punk lockdown docu-record which watches the clock, gets the jitters, and lashes out just like the rest of us. It’s an internal monologue that accounts the anxiety, the struggles, the pressures experienced living by the sea during a global pandemic.

“This record is true to the environment it was created in, everything was developed remotely and we were forced to collaborate through isolation. I had to sing lower to avoid fucking off the neighbours…At one point I drove out to the middle of nowhere to demo some screaming parts in the driver’s seat of my car, I’m lucky I wasn’t arrested.” - Michael Webster

Very limited new repress coming, note new price. An air of the unsettled is a staple of Robert Lloyd’s career, from The Prefects’s dank dexterity and jittery paranoia of the first Nightingales’ release, Idiot Strength, onward through four decades of top-notch recordings. If the unique persona of Lloyd and crew always came across on their ten albums and countless line-ups, it was largely as an acquired taste of the musical cognoscenti. Labels good and bad seemed to feel, at one point or another, a public duty and a point of pride to release a Nightingales album before returning to the business of business. Four Against Fate is remarkable. It’s the work of what’s now the band’s longest-serving line-up. The instrumental precision of any version of Nightingales has been one of the band’s defining hallmarks, but the psychic interplay of a group can take a few albums to kick in with full majesty - here’s proof of that. The rhythm section of Fliss and Andi functions now on a purely intuitive level. Jim’s work now ranks with that of any guitarist in modern ‘rock’ music, not just in originality, but also across an egalitarian mass of inspiration. Each member sings. Although Robert’s voice functions as the band’s superego, Fliss takes lead in several songs. Few bands today sound as much like a single unit as do Nightingales, but this group has the bonus of a distinct and credible musical language, exemplified by The Desperate Quartet, which comes across as both a medieval war march and the anthem of looming apocalypse. When at the song’s halfway point, American classical musician Clara Kebabian’s violin and Mark Bedford’s (of Madness) double bass overtake the Robert, Fliss, Jim and Andi, it’s a jawdropper of such intense perversity that it alone defies the listener to not play the album again from the start. Not that this album lacks ‘hits’ - The Top Shelf, Everything Everywhere All Of The Time, Devil’s Due and The Other Side are stunners. Robert claims Four Against Fate is the first of his album on which he skips no tracks on playback! Finally, the world has awakened to one of British music’s last treasures. After forty years of new labels, this is the first time Nightingales have released an album on the same label as their last full-length.

This album is a tribute to Pastor Wylie Champion, who died while we were in the process of releasing this, his first record, and his wife, Mother Champion, who died a few months earlier. We met Pastor Champion a few years ago while we were putting together another release, The Time for Peace Is Now: Gospel Music About Us. We found him in a collection of YouTube videos from the 37th Street Baptist Church in Oakland, California, put together by the pastor there, Bishop Dr. W.C. McClinton. There was quite a lot of talent in those videos, and among them was Pastor Champion whom we liked so much that we decided to make a record with him. Pastor Champion wasn’t like any other pastor you’ve ever met. As an itinerant preacher, a carpenter, and a father of five, he made a name for himself traveling up and down the California coast with his electric guitar. He traveled alone and he played alone, well into his seventies. The easiest way to describe him would be as an outsider gospel artist. Other than these bare facts, we never learned much about him—except that he was also the brother of the well-known soul singer Bettye Swann. In fact, most of what we knew about him we got from his sister’s Wikipedia page. We decided that because we met Champion through the 37th Street Baptist Church, we would record him there too. We recorded him live on a two-track Nagra reel to reel, as we wanted the album to be analog in the style of traditional gospel recordings. Over the course of two evenings (when the workday was done), Champion taught his band—musicians who had never played together before—a handful of songs, a small selection of the nearly 2,000 fragments of songs and sermons that he regularly performed. We listened in as they all got more familiar with the material and each other over time. At some point, we mentioned to Champion that he would have to be interviewed by someone to write notes for the album. He wasn’t too pleased with this idea, saying he’d had a hard life and he didn’t want to talk about it. Over the next few months, we kept asking Champion to talk to someone about his life. He told us that he didn’t want to talk about growing up in Louisiana, his mother being accosted by the Klan, or that his father was a gambler. He didn’t want to talk about being jailed for 90 days for using a whites only bathroom, being in gangs or having a street name. We told him that was fine—he could talk about what he wanted to talk about. And he told us that he didn’t want to talk about anything. You know, there are times when you make a record where it’s already made in your mind before you start. But then in the end, the record you thought you were making is not the record you made. We spent years puzzling over this one, trying to figure out what it was saying, who it was for, and how to get people to pay attention to it. But Champion knew that this record wasn’t going to be for everyone. He didn’t really care. The important part for him was just getting the message out there in the same way that he always had, travelling alone with his electric guitar. “I want to say what I mean,” he said, “be practical, precise, to the point, and, at the same time, diplomatic.” In other words, he just wanted to be a good man. God bless Pastor Champion and Mother Champion, peace be with them and their family. Love to all.

Cassandra Jenkins' An Overview on Phenomenal Nature emerged from the blue earlier this year. With pandemic unknowns and political upheaval leaving most at frayed ends, the New York-born musician’s assuring voice and expansive fresh take on songwriting created a much needed reflective space for listeners worldwide. As 2021 comes to a close, Jenkins revisits those flowing textures and refrains with (An Overview On) An Overview On Phenomenal Nature, a collection of previously unreleased sonic sketches, initial run-throughs, demos, and sound recordings from the cutting room floor that provided the scaffolding for what became one of this year’s most critically acclaimed albums.

When Jenkins visited Josh Kaufman’s studio this summer, they opened up their original sessions to uncover the ideas that were shed in the creative process. The new collection, (An Overview On) An Overview On Phenomenal Nature, isn’t merely a retrospective; it acts as a clear-eyed addendum as well as a compelling origin story, coming to life as a subconscious companion to the original album.

First takes of “New Bikini” and “Hailey” are born from opposite starting points; while “New Bikini” began as an airy alto meander, “Hailey”’s origins lie in an upbeat dance track. On “Crosshairs (Interlude),” Jenkins’ pitched vocal delivers a straight monotone, recasting the format as poetry with music highlighting her words, and “Ambiguous Norway (Instrumental)” lifts the ambient nature of the mournful song into glimmering waves. The demo version of “Michelangelo” contains alternate lyrics “I’m Michelangelo, a Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtle,” a lost contrast to the later verse where Jenkins’ likens herself to the sculptor. On “Hard Drive (Security Guard),” we join Jenkins as she listens to a passionate museum guard whose promised “overview” of the exhibit on view builds into a monologue of observations on art, politics, feminism and the human condition. This candid interaction evolved into the cornerstone and title of Jenkins’ album.

Before they decided to make an album together, Jenkins brought Kaufman a song called “American Spirits.”The dusky ballad takes us to the Texas plains via a voicemail from the payphone of a county jail (“Miss Cassandra”). Cassandra sings, “Time here burns through the sunsets / Like you and a pack of American Spirits” over warm instrumentation with a vocal delivery that reinforces Jenkins’ unwavering tenderness towards her subjects.

(An Overview On) An Overview On Phenomenal Nature bookends Cassandra Jenkins' musical output this year with nuance, coloring in the corners, and giving us another window into her ever-expanding world of chance encounters, experiences, and sonic textures. They glimmer like the sun’s changing patterns on the wall as a new day gets going.

Back in May 2019, Vancouver trio Corner Boys released their sole album… and promptly split a few months later. In retrospect, they couldn’t have known that the album’s title (‘Waiting For 2020’) would soon seem grimly ironic - and we all know why, right? No reason to go over all that shit again. But while the past two years have at least seen drummer/songwriter Patrick McEachnie staying active across two essential records with hardcore heroes Chain Whip, lockdown saw him switching roles. Basically, he bought a guitar and made an excellent record all on his lonesome, and as followers of his other projects will have come to expect, it’s fucking excellent. ‘Glad To Be Forgotten’ is the debut album by Pack Rat - in some ways you can see some level of crossover with Corner Boys in its manic energy and dedication to hooks (cuts like ‘Next Time Hit Me’ and ‘My Own Reality’ are so damn catchy, you could be forgiven for thinking you’ve already been listening to ‘em on repeat for the past 20 years). Familiar reference points show up (the melodies of the Pointed Sticks; the garage-slanted rifferama of Rudi or The Undertones) while a tinny budget synth keeps things ticking along nicely, just to remind you that this is a homespun DIY project. But honestly, this has the feel of a fully fleshed-out project and leaves you desperate for another fix of its sweet’n’sour tang. For anyone who loves the collision point between ‘New Rose’, powerpop sunshine and sheer rock’n’roll exuberance, this is essential. For everyone else, this is surely the gateway to all of that good stuff. You want to hear the tunes that’ll star on future generations’ equivalents to the Killed By Death comps? That’ll set your pulse soaring and your pogo muscles into overdrive? That’ll remind you of why this punk rock business still feels worth dedicating your life to, even after all this time? Hey, Pack Rat’s got ‘em. Now do your part

With Plum, the songwriting partnership rooted in the creative rapport between bandleader Molly Hamilton and guitarist Robert Earl Thomas continues to expand on shared visions, delving deeper into what was always there: dusty guitars, ear-worm melodies, warm expansive arrangements. Each entry to their catalog has marked a subtle reimagining of Widowspeak's sound, though perennial points of reference remain the same: 90's dream pop, 60's psych rock, a certain unshakeable Pacific-Northwestness. Speaking to the timeless feeling of each, the albums continue to be discovered well beyond their respective PR cycles, made beloved by new listeners through word of mouth. The band's fifth album feels comfortable and lived-in: humble in structure, heavy on mood. Perhaps that came taking time off from the touring grind, instead working full-time jobs and settling into the rhythm of daily life in a small upstate New York town. Plum was recorded over a handful of weekends last winter by Sam Evian (Cass McCombs, Kazu Makino, Hannah Cohen) at his Flying Cloud studio in the Catskills, and was mixed by Ali Chant (PJ Harvey, Aldous Harding, Perfume Genius). In addition to Hamilton (vocals, guitar) and Thomas (guitars, bass, synth), it features instrumental contributions by Andy Weaver (drums), Michael Hess (piano), and Sam himself (bass, synth). Plum nestles into the band's canon like it was always there, but with new textures coming to the fore, like the polyrhythmic pulse of "Amy" and "The Good Ones", or the watery, Terry Riley-influenced track "Jeanie" Plum navigates the spaces between the lesser emotions of modern life. Hamilton's lyrics speak to the unique turmoil of anyone who creates as their work, who must somehow survive off such "fruits of their labor." Yet, Widowspeak have always made a bitter pill much easier to swallow. The majestic "Breadwinner", the luminous "Even True Love" - these songs here were made to be listened to, enjoyed. "Money" is particularly hypnotic, built around a repeating, cyclical motif that serves as both skeleton and body. "Will you get back what you put in?" Hamilton asks over an insistent guitar riff. The line is delivered with a knowingness that transcends its surface critiques of late-stage capitalism, asking both herself and the listener whether this is, in fact, the world we want to live in. Through Plum, Widowspeak have brought something into the world that seems to know its own worth, even as it wonders aloud about what is to come. What value and meaning do we assign ourselves, our time, and how do we spend it?

During 1978 to 1980, Fashion released one album and a handful of indie club hit singles mixing Punk & Reggae vibes. They toured the US extensively supporting The Police in 1979. Limited Edition of 800 copies 2LP set with printed inner bags. All tracks completely remastered. Contains every studio recording of the first lineup of Fashion including US singles. Includes unreleased tracks. Liner notes from lead singer & Guitarist Luke Sky. Fashion went through several line-up overhauls during its initial existence between 1978 and 1984. John Mulligan (synthesiser, bass) and Dik Davis' (drums) were constants, but the band's frontman changed with each of the band's three albums. Post-punk years: Fàshiön Music Fashion was formed originally as Fàshiön Music, in Birmingham, England, in 1978, and consisted of John Mulligan (bass, synthesizer), Dik Davis (drums), and Al James (vocals, guitar). James became known as Luke Sky, or simply Luke or Lûke (short for "Luke Skyscraper" - a reference to the Star Wars character Luke Skywalker and the fact that James was tall and thin), while John Mulligan was known simply as Mulligan and Dik Davis simply as Dïk (or "Dik Mamba" on their debut single). In 1978, they also founded their own Fàshiön Music label; from this point forward, the band was generally (though not completely consistently) identified as Fashion, as distinct from the name of their self-owned label. Fashion released their first two singles ("Steady Eddie Steady" and "Citinite") as independent issues on the UK in November 1978 and June 1979 respectively. The group was quickly picked up by I.R.S., who put out a third single in the US in September 1979, "The Innocent". Their sound was varied, playing punk, post-punk and indie repertoire, although Mulligan at that time also had a synthesizer which later characterized the future synthpop years of the band. Still signed to I.R.S., in 1979 they recorded and released their first album, Product Perfect. All three members were credited as having written the songs collectively. Between 1978 and 1980, Fashion played shows with performers such as Toyah Willcox, UB40, Hazel O'Connor, & Billy Idol, who later became well known. A then-recently formed Duran Duran opened their shows; they toured the UK with U2, both the UK and US with The Police, and opened for The B-52's on their first British tour. In March 1980, no longer associated with I.R.S., Fashion released their "Silver Blades" single, again on their own Fàshiön Music label. Later in 1980 they also released one more song, "Let Go", on a Birmingham bands compilation called Bouncing in the Red (EMI). In June 1980, after a last gig in London with U2, Luke James left the band, and later moved to the United States.

His first single Come On, Let’s Go was recorded in July 1958 at Studio B of the Gold Star Recording Studios. Phil Spector was also recording To Know Him Is To Love Him with the Teddy Bears, and dropped by Studio B to say hello to Ritchie. Released a couple of weeks later, Ritchie’s debut quickly became a number one in Los Angeles. The record went on to be named ‘Pick Of The Week’ in September’s issue of Billboard, soon reaching #42 on the national charts. Valens’ follow-up was Donna, which went to #2 on the charts in January 1959. Not only was the record a hit, it was almost eclipsed when radio DJs discovered the Bside, La Bamba, which Valens described as “an old Mexican folk song they play at weddings”.

This also became a hit, though it only reached #22 – although when La Bamba, the 1987 biopic of Valens was released, the title song went to Number One. From this point on Valens spent most of his time touring the West Coast and beyond, and also managed time for several TV shows and a movie appearance in Go, Johnny Go! So put this record on right now. Let’s go!

An aura of mystery surrounded the man who epitomised the revolutionary spirit of Bebop during the 1940's. Yet, he was acclaimed as a pillar of the musical movement more respectfully known as Modern Jazz as his fame as an innovative Composer and Pianist spread around the world. Brilliant Corners was a turning point in the career of a brilliant man and great influencer.

‘Aloha Got Soul’ encompasses a vibrant era of contemporary music made in Hawai’i during the 1970s to the mid-1980s as jazz, rock, funk, disco and R&B co-existed alongside Hawaiian folk music. Hawai’i’s identity had undergone huge change: statehood into America in ‘59 and the Vietnam War were the backdrop as Hawai’i’s youth found inspiration in a new wave of international music led initially by The Beatles and Stones and, later, by US R&B bands like Earth Wind & Fire and Tower Of Power. Garage bands flourished during the ‘60s and, by the ‘70s, live music was at its peak. Waikiki was filled with clubs: The Point After, Infinity’s, Hawaiian Hut, Spats and more.
For the ‘70s generation of artists, some came through the talent contest ‘Home Grown’ and its accompanying compilation LP. In 1978, Hawaiian was made the official state language and a huge movement arose to revive hula and traditional music. Steve & Teresa’s ‘Kaho’olawe Song’ longs for an island long gone: the US military had used Kaho’olawe as a bombing range since Pearl Harbor. Nohelani Cypriano sang about the once sleepy town of Kailua, now a popular tourist destination: “Kailua needs no high-rise with her blue skies, not for our eyes. Can you realize?” Leading Hawaiian artists like Aura, Mike Lundy and keyboardist Kirk Thompson’s Lemuria took time in high quality facilities like Broad Recording Studio to make albums. Others grabbed studio time when they could: Tender Leaf’s Murray Compoc worked for the city bus by day and recorded an album during night sessions. Other albums were spontaneous. In 1983, Steve Maii & Teresa Bright recorded an acoustic set in just 3 hours after being invited to a studio following a gig.

For the artists of the ‘70s, the climate for music changed rapidly during the mid-‘80s as DJ culture grew and live venues shut down. Hawai’i’s R&B era shone brightly and relatively briefly but, despite brilliant musicians, regular gigs and LP releases, most of the music barely made it to the mainland. Thanks largely to Aloha Got Soul’s Roger Bong, a new interest in this fertile era of Hawaiian music has grown, culminating in this compilation of overlooked gems. ‘Aloha Got Soul’ is compiled and annotated by Bong and features rare photos and original artwork.

Recorded in 1991 by the quintet of vocalist Billie Ray Martin and Birmingham-based electronic musicians Brian Nordhoff, Joe Stevens, Les Fleming and Roberto Cimarosti, Electribal Soul was conceived as the sequel to the band’s 1990 debut album, Electribal Memories.
Electribal Memories had yielded the hits ‘Talking With Myself’ and ‘Tell Me When The Fever Ended’ and pushed Electribe 101 to the forefront of a crossover electronic scene that fused dance music with pop savvy. They were snapped up by Phonogram, managed by Tom Watkins and hailed as “the next band to meet the Queen” by i-D. The band took the coveted support slot for Depeche Mode on their epochal World Violation tour and supported Erasure at Milton Keynes Bowl. Seen as the next big thing, everything pointed toward enduring critical success for Electribe 101, and the band settled into putting their second album together.
“There was a degree of confidence among us when we came to write the second album,” recalls Billie Ray Martin. “To me, the songs we put down sound like some of our finest moments.” More immediately lush and warm than the dancefloor-friendly structures of Electribal Memories, the clue to the sound of Electribal Soul lies in the second word in its title: soul. Songs like the aching sensuality of opening track ‘Insatiable Love’ or the emboldened defiance of ‘Moving Downtown’ showcase Billie Ray Martin’s distinctive vocal range as it moves from haunting quiet to dramatic, euphoric rapture. Lyrics from ‘Moving Downtown’ had found their way into ‘Pimps, Pushers, Prostitutes’ by S’Express, and the song would appear as ‘Running Around Town’ on Martin’s 1996 solo album. The strikingproduction on the version of the song presented on Electribal Soul suggests classic late sixties soul influences, such as those of legendary Motown producer Norman Whitfield, with the long shadow cast by Kraftwerk never being far away.
‘Deadline For My Memories’, the song that provided the title for Martin’s first solo album, was originally intended for the second Electribe 101 album. Its lyrics document a sense of freedom and liberation from the darkness of a bad relationship, accompanied by jazzy piano and organ sounds over a quiet rhythm and discrete electronics. In contrast, ‘A Sigh Won’t Do’ finds Martin in soothing vocal mode, despite its devastating message about the final ending of a strained relationship, her lyrics framed by restrained and subtle beats and sounds.
To spend time with Martin’s voice on Electribal Soul is to find yourself moved deep into the ordinarily impenetrable emotional corners of your own psyche. “I was into big ballads at the time and listening to all kinds of US and UK singers, and I was also young enough to want to prove myself as a belter of ballads,” explains Martin of the classic soul edge the album showcased.
Electribal Soul heads into darker territory with ‘Hands Up And Amen’. Originally written by Martin in Berlin in the period before moving to London and forming Electribe 101, the song was then perfected and enhanced by the band’s production nous. ‘Hands Up And Amen’ savagely documents the mugging of a woman in Queens, NY at gunpoint, only to resolve itself with a middle section that nods reverently toward gospel tradition. The song coalesces around a regimented break and burbling synths, finally ending with layers of urgent synth sounds.
Meanwhile, a cover of Throbbing Gristle’s ‘Persuasion’ takes us into a seedy world of sexual coercion and creepy infatuation, predating Martin’s chilling version of the track with progressive house unit Spooky two years later. Supported by a minimal, nagging rhythm and barely-fluctuating sounds, Electribe 101’s take on ‘Persuasion’ makes for uneasy listening, even though Martin manages to inject a sort of twisted sympathy for the protagonist as the song progresses.
That Electribe 101 were as comfortable offering complicated, nuanced tracks like ‘Persuasion’ alongside pop house bangers like ‘Space Oasis’ – written by Billie Ray Martin with Martin King before Electribe 101 was formed – is testament to the way the band wove their way effortlessly through electronic music reference points. Framed by light, jazzy piano melodies and string sounds, the energy of ‘Space Oasis’ soars so high that it could easily reach the moon, while highlighting how well-suited Martin’s voice has always been to club music. We hear the same reminder of her dance music credentials on ‘True Memories Of My World’, finding her describing a Hollywood actress who reflects on being used by directors to sell her ‘tears’.
Hooking up with the Birmingham-based Nordhoff, Stevens, Fleming and Cimarosti after placing a Melody Maker ad in 1988 (“Soul rebel seeks musicians – genius only”), it was clear that Martin had found a group that recognised the unique power and importance of her voice. Having worked with genres as diverse as reggae, rock and R&B, the four producers proved to be perfect collaborators, presenting carefully-sculpted backdrops that emphasised the towering emotional dexterity of her voice.
“Listening back to these tracks now, I was reminded of what a bunch of great musicians they were,” says Martin. “They had a rule that if a part still sounded good after a day or two then it could stay. If it bothered the vocals, it would go.” Even more so than on Electribal Memories, Electribal Soul places Martin at the captivating centre of these pieces, surrounding her voice with everything from dubby rhythms to chunky R&B beats to nascent trip hop breaks; wiry, acid-hued synths uncoil gently without ever dominating, while horn samples and lush, disco-inflected strings provide a rich, naturalistic accompaniment for Martin’s emotional outpourings.
The band finished mixing the album at London’s Olympic Studios in 1991. They were assisted by Apollo 440’s Howard Gray on production duties for ‘Deadline For My Memories’, ‘Insatiable Love’ and ‘Space Oasis’, with Gray supported by talented engineer Al Stone. Pre-release promo tapes were issued and an enthusiastic energy started to build around the band’s anticipated second album.
It was not meant to be. Against a backdrop of a worsening relationship with Tom Watkins, and a disinterested Phonogram, instead of receiving a positive reaction to the new tracks, Electribe 101 were swiftly dropped by their label. Electribal Soul languished, unreleased, and the band yielded to pressures that had been building and split up. After collaborating with Spooky and The Grid, Billie Ray Martin went on to release her seminal debut solo album in 1996, with it securing the era-defining hit ‘Your Loving Arms’, while the other group members continued to work together as The Groove Corporation.
Thirty years after the songs were recorded, we’re now finally able to hear what the second and final chapter of Electribe 101’s story sounded like. Electribal Soul shows that the band had really only just got started when they dropped their first album in 1990. Heard only by a select and privileged few, what followed elevated the band’s music to a completely new level, making Electribal Soul musical buried treasure of the most precious and rare variety.
Electribal Soul will be released on LP, CD and digital formats on 18th February 2022 through Electribal Records. The physical formats include extensive liner notes from Billie Ray Martin, and the album sleeve features unseen archive photographs by Lewis Mulatero from the original 1990 sessions with the band that were never used in the sleeve designs for Electribal Memories.