quête:point no point

The anticipation is there in Elizabeth Stokes’ solo guitar riff under the opening lines of “I’m Not Getting Excited”: a frenetic, driving force daring a packed Auckland Town Hall to do exactly the opposite of what the track title suggests.

As the opener of The Beths’ Auckland, New Zealand, 2020 expands to include the full band, the crowd screeches and bellows. It’s a collective exhalation, in one of the few countries where live music is still possible.

The album title, and film of the same name, deliberately include the date and location, lead guitarist Jonathan Pearce says. “That’s the sensational part of what we actually did.” In a mid-pandemic world, playing to a heaving, enraptured home crowd feels miraculous.

In March 2020, everything seemed on track for another huge year for The Beths. Home after an 18-month northern hemisphere tour, they had just finished recording sophomore album Jump Rope Gazers and were primed for more extensive touring. But within days, New Zealand’s lockdown split the band between three separate houses. All touring was cancelled.

“It was existentially bad,” Stokes says. As well as worrying about economic survival, they lost something crucial to the band’s identity: live performance. “It's a huge part of how we see ourselves... What does it mean, if we can't play live?”

The band found an outlet through live-streaming, returning to the do-it-yourself mentality of their early days to connect with a global audience. The album and film have their genesis in that urge to share the now-rare experience of a live show, as widely as possible.

The fuzzy-round-the-edges live-streams pointed the way aesthetically. Native birds, wonkily crafted by the band from tissue paper and wire, festoon the venue’s cavernous ceiling while house plants soften and disguise the imposing pipes of an organ. The presence of the film crew isn’t disguised: much of the camerawork is handheld; full of fast zooms and pans.

With much of the material still fresh, the band was less focused on re-invention than playing “a good, fast rock show”, Pearce says. The tempo is up on crowd favourites “Whatever” and “Future Me Hates Me” (released as a live single on its third anniversary) as both band and audience feed off the mutual energy in the room.

Certain songs have taken on special resonance post-Covid. Pearce has found “Out Of Sight”, a tender rumination on long-distance relationships, hits particularly hard with live audiences.

Album closer “River Run” visibly brings Stokes to tears as a mix of achievement and relief kicks in. “You can finally relax at that point … You play the last note, breathe out a sigh and look up - and you’re in a giant room full of people happy and smiling.”

new music in nearly 30 years Includes 11 brand new songs written by the band The Cowsills will be on the road through 2023 supporting the new record Some of the best music made in the last 60 years has been delivered by musical families. Think about it . . . The Everly Brothers, The Beach Boys, Bee Gees, The Jackson 5, The Staple Singers, Pointer Sisters, Kings Of Leon, Oasis . . . and The Cowsills! Starting in 1965, The Cowsills was composed of six siblings, performing their instruments and singing those glorious harmonies as only families can. Originally starting as a regional act (from Newport, Rhode Island), the group was “founded” by Joda Records owners Danny Sims and reggae/pop singer Johnny Nash (“I Can See Clearly Now”) in the mid-’60s for whom they recorded a handful of singles before turning towards more national recognition when they were signed to MGM Records in 1967. At this point, the group’s mother Barbara and young sister Susan joined the act and they were awarded a Gold record for over one million copies sold of their very first single for MGM, the sublime, “The Rain, The Park & Other Things.” This began a series of chart records that dominated the Top 40 for the next three years. Among the classic Cowsills recordings are “We Can Fly,” “Indian Lake,” “Hair” (from the rock musical Hair), and “Love American Style” (the theme song from the popular ABC-TV show of the same name). The group also recorded and charted with five successful albums during this time period. The band and their story were even the inspiration for the popular 1970s sitcom The Partridge Family. The group was also a prosperous touring attraction up through 1972, spreading their harmonious hope and love to an adoring fan base. They even had their own comic book published in 1968. As all families do, the group went through a series of changes, disbanding in 1972. But music never left the soul of this tuneful and melodic kin. Over the years, the group, as individuals, continued to make music and even reunited in 1978 and 1993 to make historic records that are woefully out of print. Now, nearly 30 years after their last recordings as a group, The Cowsills are returning with new music for the new world! Omnivore Recordings is proud to announce the release of Rhythm Of The World. Eleven brand new songs written by the band. The ambassadors of goodwill and love will be on the road through 2023 thrilling fans with their classic hits and soon to be new favorites!

Close your eyes and merge into Benedikt Frey’s 'Fastlane'. Imagine sitting in the driver’s seat of a an automobile, one with exceptional horsepower and torque, as you stare out the windshield at the red light, warping in fata-morgana a mile down the road. It’s a straight-away, a black top with two lanes, and against your better judgment you decide to floor the gas. No hesitation in your muscle, your ankle or the ball of your foot, which you now realize is some kind of universal pivot, the first point of contact fusing your body with the will of machine. In this moment you’re in awe that you, a human, an animal, grew from pond scum into something so advanced as to engineer this thing, a mechanical beast capable of overwhelming power and exhilaration. But you also feel a seductive dread, an outside force diverting you from caution toward a dangling carrot of curiosity, asking yourself, ‘How far can I take this thing?’ The dread, now a constant, is numbed, equalized by an adverse intoxicating gratification. You feel both sensations in real time, however, rather than take responsibility for yourself, friends, family and innocent bystanders, you cement your foot to the floor and lean your head back. Noise around you fades to mute. Smell the benzene-scented air, feel the wind on your face, the menacing vibration of the vessel you control beneath you and every grain of asphalt under its tires. This mile has now lasted an eternity and you’ve left your body for some objective view, as if watching climax of a film. Past the point of no return, you embrace abandon and lean into fate. The film becomes slow motion, a crawling pace so mesmerizing you convince yourself of an option to eject yourself from this madness, but as you finally let go of your last morsel of fear, you run the red light head-on into the nucleus of a fantastic glistening sculpture of torn metal, glass, oil, broken dreams and heartache. 'Fastlane' may be just drum machines and synthesizers if you’re timid, but listen harder and know the catastrophic reality of existence, a wreckage so gruesome we dare not rubberneck, but afterall it is our nature to stare.

Deena Abdelwahed's first album is shifting the epicenter of contemporary electronic music south: 'Khonnar' will be released on November 16, 2018 by InFiné. Pronounced 'Ronnar' (an essential detail so as to avoid facile misinterpretation by French-speakers) it is a term that makes the most of Tunisia's cultural and linguistic spectrum. It evokes the dark, shameful and disturbing side of things, the one we usually seek to hide, but which Deena instead sticks our noses in with her debut. It is a testament to Deena's coming into her own as a world citizen, and as an artist. A self-construction made of frustrations and constraints, borne of retrograde mindsets, which are not the prerogative of either the East or the West, and which she tirelessly strives to expose and break. Throughout the 45 minutes of 'Khonnar", Deena breaks down the codes of bass, techno and experimental music, and writes the manifesto for a generation that does not seek to please or to conform, taking back control of its identity - with all the attendant losses and chaos. A new creative world order is taking shape, a new tilting point between north and south, the response of a connected and liberated youth who takes the control of the new decolonization. About Deena Abdelwahed A Tunisian producer and DJ, Deena Abdelwahed arrived in France at the age of 26 after earning her stripes on the Tunis scene and as part of the Arabstazy collective.

Das französische Label Infiné ist dafür bekannt, elektronische Musik jenseits ausgetretener Pfade zu veröffentlichen - hier wird Techno und House neu definiert. So passt es ganz gut, dass die aufstrebende tunesische DJ und Underground-Produzentin Deena Abdelwahed bei dem Lyoner Imprint eine Veröffentlichungsplattform gefunden hat. Abdelwahed performte in den letzten Jahren zwischen Boiler Room und Berghain in allen namhaften Clubs und hinterließ bei der globalen Dance-Gemeinde mehr als staunende Münder. Nach der im Frühjahr 2017 veröffentlichten EP "Klabb" präsentiert die Tunesierin mit "Khonnar" jetzt ihr sehnlichst erwartetes Debütalbum.

Was beide Tonträger vereint: sie verbinden nordafrikanische Klangelemente mit elektronischen Sounds, haben jedoch mit Weltmusik nichts am Hut.

The life-affirming energy at the heart of Sven Väth‘s recent album Catharsis is revisited, reanimated, and remixed by some of the most exciting names around, closing the circle on a superlative burst of
recent work that has not only given us the epic original LP, but also the extraordinary compilation What I Used To Play.

Roman Flügel, Benjamin Damage, Robert Hood, Planetary Assault Systems, Mano Le Tough… do we need to go on? This hand-picked list of luminaries have answered the call and certainly don’t disappoint, each fusing their signature sound with Sven‘s DNA to create a wild, uncompromising companion piece to the original album.

True to form, the running order is very much rooted on the dance floor, Silvi‘s Dream, revisited by Damiano von Erckert, explodes like a Balearic sunrise. Dreamy strings with a touch of Detroit create a lovely atmosphere while the beautiful piano sound goes right into your heart and appears as if you could feel the warm sun on your skin. Roman Flügel’s acidic rework of What I Used To Play is a homage to the 80s and the early sound of electronic music which creates nostalgic feelings and offers a greatly produced retro soundscape à la Kraftwerk. Staying close to the original, but with the perfect amount of spin, it’s a symbiotic interplay of synthetic bass pads, and a tiny bell melody. Robag Wruhme’s cranking minimal funk takes us down The Worm-hole. A concise interference sound builds
up sustained tension, tangled but structured, deep and yet driving. Robag took over the deep and dirty rhythms of the original perfectly and delivers a versatile piece. This opening salvo oozes quality and
sets things up perfectly for the electrified celebration of hi-octane technology come.

Jonathan Kaspar‘s growling interpretation of We Are provides a melancholic atmosphere with fascinating percussion parts. Zaps shoot through the air like small laser pistols while we let ourselves
be carried away by the bass, the frisky vocal stutter effect is the icing on the cake. Speeding things up, the euphoric trance that engulfs Krystal Klear’s epic version of Feiern. Expansive strings increase up
to ecstasy and guide us to a love-filled unity. This remix is sure to be an excellent peak-time smasher for the open-air season. On to a wild ride of pure techno with Benjamin Damage, who delivers a dry and uncompromising Berlin Techno version of Mystic Voices. Harder pace but the string synthesizer harmony brings light to an otherwise gloomy environment. Next up is Luke Slater’s PAS Deep Heet Mix to add a retro nineties vibe to proceedings on Nyx. Entering a rough space with gigantic clap impacts, we are blessed with straightforward Techno. Shimmering and spooling, this groove hits the
mark. Then, as if it was ever in doubt, Sven‘s lofty place in the techno firmament is underlined by a peak-time contribution by non-less than Detroit legend Robert Hood. Unmistakable, you must recognize the signature Robert Hood drive on Butoh. Chord stabs fulfill the Detroit feeling with offtaking string elements and high-energy vocal transformations. It’s a warm embrace that triggers emotions. Planetary Assault Systems then blasts things ever deeper into the cosmos on a second outing of Nyx. Reduced and to the point but of course, true to form, with powerful tribal percussion parts and intensive cutting hi-hats.

From there on in, the collection gradually re-enters the atmosphere, burning with a phosphorescent, melancholy glow. Harald Björk extrapolates Being In Love into a hypnotic groove for the early hours. A playful and atmospheric electronica interpretation to soothe our souls due to disharmonious synth pads and a dreamy deformation of the original melody. Mano Le Tough harnesses the ethno-rhythms
and brooding energy of Catharsis into a low-slung, tribal stomper. Anomalous organ parts ring out and link up with a trance-like sequence, summer feelings arouse as you feel like you can almost smell Ibizan air. The collection comes full circle with a second equally seductive interpretation of Silvi‘s Dream by Florian Hollerith. Stripped-down and hypnotic, the homage to Sven's girlfriend Silvi is extended as a reverence to Sven himself. Sven's profound vocal clearly infuse time and space and leave a forever-lasting memory of love.

By accident or design, it somehow leaves us with the reassuring sense that, although this specific part of the journey may be drawing to a close, the mission of the man behind it all most definitely isn't.

written & produced by: Sven Väth & Gregor Tresher

First appearing on TV screens in September 1968, Joe 90 was a unique nine year old boy with the ability to absorb the brain patterns of top experts

enabling him to become the most special agent of W.I.N. (World Intelligence Network).

Whilst there are arguably better-known scores amongst Barry Gray's sublime catalogue of work with the Andersons, the composer's work for Joe 90 is in many ways

the most consistent and inventive selection he ever wrote. Developing a theme for the new series was always the musician's starting point, and for Joe 90, the pop charts breezed into Gray's studio,

with an opening tune featuring a genuine groove. Mixing Gray's inventive electronics with 60s "surf rock" guitars was an inspired decision.

It is no wonder that this piece has gone on to enjoy a second life as a Northern Soul disco floor-filler.

For episodic incidentals, Gray was freed from the detached unearthly premise of Captain Scarlet and able to bring back a playful sensibility

and a more mature musical palette which are amply illustrated in this 24 track collection.

"One of the more remarkable albums in Freddie Hubbard’s formidable Blue Note oeuvre, Breaking Point! was recorded in May 1964 shortly after the trumpeter left Art Blakey’s Jazz Messengers to form his own band. The quintet—with James Spaulding on alto saxophone and flute, Ronnie Mathews on piano, Eddie Khan on bass, and Joe Chambers on drums—moves assuredly from free-form playing and modal jazz to the blues and balladry on this five-song set of originals by Hubbard and Chambers.
This stereo Tone Poet Vinyl Edition was produced by Joe Harley, mastered by Kevin Gray from the original analog master tapes, pressed on 180g vinyl at RTI, and packaged in a deluxe gatefold tip-on jacket."

Elysian Park is a slice of unaffected paradise found in downtown Los Angeles. Home to countless birds and (what feels like) infinite layers of greenery, the park plays the role of muse for tstewart’s 21 track album, Elysian. With each track named after his favourite nooks of the Elysian, tstewart likens his crescendos to the grand, never-ending steps found just before the park. As the new project from tstewart (aka MachineDrum), the artist whose credits include Azealia Banks and A$AP FERG, he has signed to Mercury KX with a diverse, piano-led sound that juxtaposes his previous glitchy, pop-fused work.

Back in 2003, during an incredible period of growth and reinvention for legendary artist MF DOOM, he introduced us to one of his numer- ous alter egos, Viktor Vaughn. As the story goes, Viktor Vaughn was an interdimensional time-traveling MC from an alternate realm where Hip-Hop was banned. He’d been exploring time and space looking for new dimensions to sharpen him to 90s era NYC, where he found himself stranded due to a mechanical mishap with his time machine. He began hitting open mics and small venues, battling other MCs and picking up a few side-hustles in order to raise enough funds to repair his time machine and get back to his travels.

Vaudeville Villain is a concept album like no other, where MF DOOM re-envisions himself as a younger, hungrier, more brazen persona, in order to explore subjects new and old from a different point of view. Of course, developing a second self from a more technologically advanced universe, he wanted to take a new approach to the produc- tion too. Viktor Vaughn fittingly raps over next-school beats that move freely in spaces between Electronica and Hip Hop, all courtesy of Sound-Ink producers King Honey, Heat Sensor and Max Bill, with the exception of one track produced by RJD2. Featuring all original lyrics by DOOM, with a few notable guest appearances from M. Sayyid (Anti-Pop Consortium), Lord Sear, Apani B Fly MC, Louis Logic, and more, Vaudeville Villain is one of the more uniquely creative entries in the MF DOOM universe.

Black Truffle is pleased to welcome free jazz legend Joe McPhee back to the fold with Oblique Strategies, a wild trio recorded in Antwerp in 2018 in the company of Mette Rasmussen’s fire-breathing alto saxophone and Dennis Tyfus’s post-Fluxus antics on tape, voice, and percussion. Rasmussen and Tyfus have previously recorded together as Bazuinschal, and some similar strategies are on display here: mysterious metallic scrapes, extended tones in which voice and sax become indistinguishable, comic explosions of varispeed tape. With McPhee on board, however, proceedings are more sumptuous, with the two horns moving fluidly from expeditions into the extremes of their instruments’ registers to pointillistic note-splatter and Ayler-esque folk melodies; we even get to bask in some of the slow-motion free blues that McPhee has now been playing for half a century. McPhee is heard primarily on tenor, Rasmussen mainly on alto, but with Rasmussen doubling on sundry objects, and the whole trio contributing vocals, certainty about who is doing what becomes nigh impossible.

The recording and production add to this hazy unclarity. Where much contemporary improvised music aims at dryly clinical hi-fi, the lively reverberant space of Oblique Strategies calls to mind the less-than-pristine sonics of classic free jazz artefacts like John Tchicai’s Afrodisiaca or McPhee’s own Underground Railroad. A further dimension of oblique unpredictability is added by subtle changes in the sense of space: at times merely a reverb tail glimpsed between phrases, at other points the whole mix seems to be momentarily swallowed up in slap-back, blurring the lines between acoustic instruments and the decayed fidelity of Tyfus’ tape playback. Spread across four pieces ranging from four to nineteen minutes in length, Oblique Strategies moves with anarchic swagger from explosions of clattering cymbals and bellowing horns to near-silent episodes of mysterious rumble and clunk. ‘Death or Dinner?’ opens the record with a lovely duet of climbing melodic patterns shared between the two saxophones, played with a buzzing oboe-like tone. A long, wavering note sung by Tyfus cues the first of countless changes of direction, eventually leading to a crescendo of watery splutters and duelling saxes. At points Tyfus’ keening resemble the signature moves of his friend and collaborator, Ghédelia Tazartès; at others, his tape-sped huffs and puffs possess a rawness reminiscent of Henri Chopin or Gil Wolman. The dialogue between wailing saxophones and vocal cries, punctuated by percussive thuds and crashes, can at times feel less like a musical performance and more like the calls of some mysterious forest creatures, possessing a primordial energy that might remind some listeners of the outdoor antics of Brötzmann and Bennink’s Schwarzwaldfahrt.

Oblique Strategies can also be delicate at times, as on the beautiful third piece, ‘Destilled Edible’, dominated by a slow, microtonal melody played with a breathy tone resembling a shakuhachi. The closing side-long ‘Light My Fire’ ranges across classic improv call and response, skittering trumpet blurts, inept cymbal clatter, mock-operatic vocals, and crude tape manoeuvres. Momentarily pausing at the ten-minute mark for an interlude of ghostly room sound and crackling texture, its closing moments unfurl a glorious dual saxophone finale, the almost epic tone subtly undermined by Tyfus quietly tapping out swing rhythms. Arriving in a striking sleeve adorned with Tyfus’ drawings, Oblique Strategies is an invigoratingly free-spirited blast of improvisation.
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Miles Davis created just one studio album with his original sextet: Milestones. And he made every moment count. Pairing with Cannonball Adderley, John Coltrane, Red Garland, Paul Chambers, and Philly Joe Jones, Davis not only laid the groundwork for the modalism that immediately followed but tailored a genuine modern-jazz masterwork laden with performances among the most explosive of his distinguished career. Sandwiched between the more famous 'Round About Midnight and the epochal Kind of Blue, Milestones remains a seminal work of art.

Sourced from the original master tapes and pressed on dead-quiet SuperVinyl, Mobile Fidelity's numbered-edition 180g LP grants each musician their own space amid broad soundstages. Afforded the benefits of a nearly non-existent noise floor and supreme groove definition, this vinyl reissue doubles as a time machine back to the February-March 1958 recording sessions.

Colors, shapes, and dimensions appear in the manner that resembles what you'd glean from behind a studio control room's window. Davis' burnished trumpet is rendered in three-dimensional perspective and seemingly coaxes the band to play with unburdened zest. Coltrane's trademark saxophone teems with lifelike tonality and images with specificity; his solos work in tandem with and against the driving rhythms. Garland's swaggering piano lines? Visualize the keys as he hits full stride, the chords and fills slithering around skeletal frameworks.

Inducted into the Grammy Hall of Fame and selected as a "Core Collection" record by the Penguin Guide to Jazz, Milestones is as famous for its title track – widely considered ground zero for modalism and bolstered by Jones' hallmark "Philly Lick" rim shot – as the players that produced it. The launching pad for many of Davis' improvisational flights, the album teases the explorations Coltrane would soon chase. Davis' own solo work broaches territories that far exceed what he had done in his bop-rooted past. Every song is a highlight.

Take the bravado "Dr. Jackle," featuring a hot-foot pace and bebop strains, or "Sid's Ahead," which continues the album's blues theme while juggling edgy harmonics and inside-out structures. On "Billy Boy," distinguished with an arco bass solo from Chambers, Garland gets a turn in the spotlight and channels the openness practised by one of his heroes, Ahmad Jamal. Even more instructive is the band's reading of Dizzy Gillespie's "Two Bass Hit." Three years removed from the version Davis and company recorded for the trumpeter's Columbia debut, this interpretation demonstrates the extent to which the group had jelled in a relatively short amount of time.



Then there's "Straight, No Chaser," the definitive rendition of Thelonious Monk's signature piece. Coltrane's marbled playing pulls at the tune's borders, Adderley takes liberty with solos, and Davis dances around his mates, at one point quoting "When the Saints Go Marching In" while demonstrating his knowledge of tradition and casting an eye towards the future.

About that future. Garland already had one foot out the door during the Milestones sessions to the extent Davis spells him on "Sid's Ahead." Jones would stick around for a bit longer but soon plot his exit. History proves Davis navigated the changes with visionary aplomb. Yet the chemistry, excitement, and beauty the sextet achieves on Milestones cannot be overstated. This reissue helps put the album in proper perspective – and presents the music the fidelity it deserves.

Bob Dylan was at several crossroads in the mid-1970s. Artistically, he was largely written off as being past his prime. Emotionally, he was suffering through a painful divorce from his then-wife Sara Lowndes. Creatively, he appeared at a stalemate, his previous decade's unprecedented run of transformational brilliance finished. Then came Blood on the Tracks.

A start-to-finish cycle that documents a lover's pursuit of, entanglement with, and loss of a woman, the bracingly intimate 1975 effort remains one of the most encompassing break-up albums ever made and ranks as the most personal statement of the Bard's career. To hear it is to experience the agony, frustration, trauma, highs, lows, confusion, sadness, and, ultimately, requisite redemption associated with intimate relationships gone astray. Dylan maintains it's a work of fiction, but it's evident close-vested autobiographical premise is what helps make it universal: It's the icon singing through tears, going out of his mind, battling hallowing emptiness, firing shots across the bow, and accepting culpability. It is, in short, a consummate expression of love's darker sides and the consequences of what happens when dreams unravel.

As part of its Bob Dylan catalogue restoration series, Mobile Fidelity is thoroughly humbled to have the privilege of mastering the iconic LP from the original master tapes and pressing it on dead-quiet LP at RTI. The end result is the very finest, most transparent analogue edition of Blood on the Tracks ever produced – and the first-ever proper analog reissue. Fantastically presenting both the solo acoustic and band-supported songs with the utmost clarity, dynamics, presence, immediacy, spaciousness, imaging, and balance, this version shines a high-powered light on the fluid vocal phrasing, timbral shifts, functional rhythms, and inward-looking strumming that contribute to every song here serving as a wound-exposing confessional.

For all the melancholic pain, unresolved questions, shattered memories, wasted times, unrequited dialogues, and weary regret within, Blood on the Tracks remains as daring as it is reflective. Rather than follow for a monotone caustic vibe, Dylan's songs burrow into the subconscious for the manners in which they are even-keeled, mellow, and occasionally, even peaceful. Dignity, honour, poignancy, and fairness – all traits uncommon in any situation in which partners dissolve histories, change hearts, and attribute blame – instil the record with equilibrium on par with the consistency of the flowing melodies.

Throughout, tunes come on and proceed as if they could continue forever, Dylan spinning poetic verses and conversations amidst finely tied knots of acoustic notes, chords, and fills, the deceivingly simple architecture conjuring the intertwined refractions of a bezeled jewel, various angles, colours, and textures conjoining into a gorgeously inseparable whole. Backed by Tony Brown's flexible albeit subtle bass, Buddy Cage's country-streaked pedal-steel guitar, and Paul Griffin's soul-baring organ – an instrument used to shadow, tuck-point, and illuminate here as effectively as any time in rock history – Dylan pours soulful emotion, open his veins, and bleeds.

Ranked 16 on Rolling Stone's list of the 500 Greatest Albums of All Time, and replete with existential thought, piercing directness, raw singing, and majestic arrangements,

Given the sonic and artistic merit of this album, we anticipate huge demand.

THE CULT is fronted by Ian Astbury on vocals and Billy Duffy on guitar. Their music and albums at this point need no introduction as they have cemented themselves over the years since they began in 1983, as one of the greatest rock bands around. In 1991, their fifth album Ceremony was released. The follow up to the massive Sonic Temple marked a turning point in The Cult"s sound and style and it was their first album without longtime bassist Jamie Stewart. The album was a commercial success, reaching No. 25 on the Billboard chart and it remains a fan favorite and an important album in The Cult"s discography. The Cult continued to develop their sound on this album, and it is heavily influenced by Native American culture. Ceremony is a testament to The Cult"s ability to evolve and adapt while staying true to their roots and it"s songs are about spirituality, love and rebellion. It includes the singles "Wild Hearted Son" and "Heart Of Soul".

THE CULT is fronted by Ian Astbury on vocals and Billy Duffy on guitar. Their music and albums at this point need no introduction as they have cemented themselves over the years since they began in 1983, as one of the greatest rock bands around. In 1991, their fifth album Ceremony was released. The follow up to the massive Sonic Temple marked a turning point in The Cult"s sound and style and it was their first album without longtime bassist Jamie Stewart. The album was a commercial success, reaching No. 25 on the Billboard chart and it remains a fan favorite and an important album in The Cult"s discography. The Cult continued to develop their sound on this album, and it is heavily influenced by Native American culture. Ceremony is a testament to The Cult"s ability to evolve and adapt while staying true to their roots and it"s songs are about spirituality, love and rebellion. It includes the singles "Wild Hearted Son" and "Heart Of Soul".

Freak Frequency was a fitting title for the new material Greg Obis was planning for Stuck, the frenetic and twisted post-punk outfit he formed in 2018. Inspired by the doomy social economics of Mark Fisher’s Capitalist Realism, the bleak worldbuilding of horror games Demon’s Souls and Bloodborne, and the bombastic yet arty satire of Devo, Obis channelled his audio analogy into Freak Frequency, an album ringing out with explosive sounds and ideas.

Stuck formed after Obis’ previous projects, Yeesh and Clearance, called it quits in short proximity. Obis is on guitar and vocals, which span from booming theatrics to ecstatic yelps. The project’s rhythm section is completed by shoegaze guitarist-turned-chugging bassist David Algrim and tightly wound drummer Tim Green—also a graphic designer, and the artist responsible for Stuck’s distinctively unified visual aesthetic. Original co-guitarist Donny Walsh contributed freely inventive lines for the first few years of the project, including on Freak Frequency; Ezra Saulnier of Red Tunic, the newest member of the band, now brings calculated contrapuntal riffs to match Obis’ parts.

The building blocks of Stuck include the egg punk eccentricities of Uranium Club and The Coneheads filtered through noise rock power, à la Jesus Lizard or Slint; that melange is glittered with the precision microtones of Unwound and Women. “I want the feeling of immersion and chaos and tension, with a big guitar amp playing a big chord,” says Obis of his inspirations, citing friends and peers Cloud Nothings and Preoccupations. “But I want it delivered by having a lot of smaller points of light poking through.”

In fact, writing for Freak Frequency began while Content’s recording was still underway—beginning with “Scared,” which features acoustic layers under feedback squalls. “Time Out,” with motoric guitars in the sputtering lineage of Wire, was also composed in late 2019. Obis wrote it about the cycles of compulsion and shame woven into social media use, and the way negativity drives algorithmic engagement. It became an exciting exercise for the group in ramping up speed; “I thought I knew how far I could push Tim’s tempos,” Obis recalls. “But Tim kept insisting we do it 20 bpm faster than what I had. He is an absolute monster for playing that.”

Album opener “The Punisher,” a spiral staircase of disembodied guitars and rhythmic slams over a 2/4 beat, came in the aftermath of the January 6 insurrection. It felt immediately emblematic to Freak Frequency, and Obis describes it as his favorite Stuck track: one he wishes he could write again and again. “It hits all the boxes that Stuck can do: it’s goofy, but there’s a lot of intricate guitar interplay, and at the end, there’s a big payoff,” he explains. The last song written was “Do Not Reply,” a pre-album single that came to Obis after engineering for Melkbelly and channelling their earworm melodies. Algrim wouldn’t let it on the record unless Melkbelly’s front person Miranda Winters dueted on vocals; she was happy to oblige, and the gritty epic closes Freak Frequency.

With slippery snark, percussive heft, and funhouse mirrors of sludge, Freak Frequency delivers its needed screeds with gratifying nuance. If Stuck’s interpretation of this messed-up world goes down like a bitter pill, it’s only because its sugar coating is too delicious to keep from eating.

Chain Of Flowers return with their lofty and long-simmering sophomore full-length, rich with reckonings, reverb, and redemption: Never Ending Space. Despite some of the songs dating back a few years, the record first began materialising in earnest during the pandemic, by which point most of the band had relocated from Cardiff to London.

Reunited and rejuvenated, they picked up where they left off, booking two multi-day sessions at Hackney hub Total Refreshment Centre with producer Jonah Falco. In this time they successfully channelled their kinetic chemistry into 10 full-blooded anthems of torn dreams, poetic delirium, and “hope stretched too far.” Musically, Never Ending Space skews notably more maximal than the group’s previous work, fleshed out with trumpets, saxophone, synth, percussion boxes, and spoken word. (Smith jokingly calls them The Chain Of Flowers Orchestra).

Yet the songs still swing and soar with a charged heart, ripe with hooks, drama and ragged melody. Opener “Fire (In The Heart Of Hearts)” stirs to life on a tide of wiry guitar and defiant horns, facing down the embers of love that still glow in the wake of pain: “Peace came tumbling like a shower of bricks / The mind twists slowly till everything fits.”

A tense energy ripples throughout – from the nocturnal rush of “Serving Purpose” and “Amphetamine Luck” to the bruised battle cries of “Torcalon” and “Old Human Material.” Outliers like “Praying Hands, Turtle Doves” hint at proggy possible futures, while instrumental vignette “Anomia” offers an intriguing glimpse at a lesser heard facet of the band: swaying, shadowy, subdued. The album’s title track is also its closing cut, a stomping, sparkling ode to “the wrong side of the night, where time goes to die.” Smith describes the scene: “Everyone’s talking, screaming, trauma bonding, but no one’s listening. Broken dialogue. Shouting over each other. You want to switch off, but everyone’s too fucked.” The guitars spiral and slide towards the oblivion of dawn, the chance to crash and do it all again.

Chain Of Flowers return with their lofty and long-simmering sophomore full-length, rich with reckonings, reverb, and redemption: Never Ending Space. Despite some of the songs dating back a few years, the record first began materialising in earnest during the pandemic, by which point most of the band had relocated from Cardiff to London.

Reunited and rejuvenated, they picked up where they left off, booking two multi-day sessions at Hackney hub Total Refreshment Centre with producer Jonah Falco. In this time they successfully channelled their kinetic chemistry into 10 full-blooded anthems of torn dreams, poetic delirium, and “hope stretched too far.” Musically, Never Ending Space skews notably more maximal than the group’s previous work, fleshed out with trumpets, saxophone, synth, percussion boxes, and spoken word. (Smith jokingly calls them The Chain Of Flowers Orchestra).

Yet the songs still swing and soar with a charged heart, ripe with hooks, drama and ragged melody. Opener “Fire (In The Heart Of Hearts)” stirs to life on a tide of wiry guitar and defiant horns, facing down the embers of love that still glow in the wake of pain: “Peace came tumbling like a shower of bricks / The mind twists slowly till everything fits.”

A tense energy ripples throughout – from the nocturnal rush of “Serving Purpose” and “Amphetamine Luck” to the bruised battle cries of “Torcalon” and “Old Human Material.” Outliers like “Praying Hands, Turtle Doves” hint at proggy possible futures, while instrumental vignette “Anomia” offers an intriguing glimpse at a lesser heard facet of the band: swaying, shadowy, subdued. The album’s title track is also its closing cut, a stomping, sparkling ode to “the wrong side of the night, where time goes to die.” Smith describes the scene: “Everyone’s talking, screaming, trauma bonding, but no one’s listening. Broken dialogue. Shouting over each other. You want to switch off, but everyone’s too fucked.” The guitars spiral and slide towards the oblivion of dawn, the chance to crash and do it all again.

Joshua Ray Walker announces NEW RECORD “What Is It Even?” - lending his signature alt-country style to iconic pop songs - paying homage to female-identified powerhouse vocalists and their influence on global culture. Launching with his reimagination of Lizzo’s “Cuz I Love You,” Walker pushes himself and his band to respectfully and artfully build a bridge between two seemingly polar styles of music. What Is It Even? Album Rollout 6/2 - “What Is It Even?” Preorder launch & IG1 “Cuz I love You” 7/7 - "Linger" 8/4 - “What Is It Even?” Street Date The catalyst of Joshua Ray Walker’s new album, What Is It Even?, was sparked on the patio of the Tulsa, Oklahoma music venue and dive bar Mercury Lounge, a fitting origin story for any country record. But this is far from an ordinary country record. It was on that Tulsa patio, deep into tour, when Walker and drummer Trey Pendergrass were half joking about what their gospel jump blues version of Whitney Houston’s “I Wanna Dance With Somebody” would sound like, wondering “what if the Blues Brothers covered a Whitney Houston song?” At that point, it was still unclear how the Dallas native would follow up his trio of critically acclaimed, interconnected albums, all of which were packed tight with character-driven songs that put multiple national-tours worth of crowds on the precipice of staining their shirts with either beers or tears, depending on the song. The third of the trio, See You Next Time, led to Walker appearing on The Tonight Show and CBS Saturday Morning, brought with it performances at the Ryman Auditorium in Nashville and Gruene Hall in Texas, landed him on Rolling Stone’s “Best of 2021” list, and prompted SPIN to call him “one of country’s most exciting storytellers.” Those stories about dive bar dwellers running out of last chances made listeners feel a gauntlet of emotions. What Is It Even?, a 10-track covers album consisting of songs made famous by female pop acts, produced with John Pedigo and arranged alongside his touring band of Pendergrass, bassist Billy Bones, and pedal-steel player Adam Kurtz, was born out of wanting to make people feel joy.

Lndon Odense Ensemble is a powerhouse quintet that combines forces from the Causa Sui/El Paraiso family tree (Jakob Skott, Jonas Munk, Martin Rude) with the vibrant, experimental London jazz scene (Tamar Osborn, Al MacSween). On two studio full-lengths, released in 2022 and 2023, they have explored the confluence of psychedelia, improvisation and cosmic jazz. On this set, recorded at the 2021 edition of Denmark's Jaiyede Jazz Festival, the energy is cranked up another notch or two. Comprised almost entirely of exclusive material not found on the two studio records these three sonic excursions dive head-on into the fiery side of the group's sound. Taking up the entire A-side "Energy Ascending" starts out as a gently flowing piece of dreamy jazz that wouldn't have sounded out of place on a late 1960s Pharoah Sanders record. As the piece evolves the guitar takes it into rock territory, where it dissolves in a mesmerising breakdown before commencing a build of epic proportions, lead by Tamar Osborn's baritone sax, channelling The Stooges as much as John Coltrane. Heavy. On the B-side things get more electronic and spacy. Here the ensemble uses album track "Sojourner" as a starting point for a new improvisation guided by Al MacSween's virtuoso keyboard work. The rhythm section creates a hypnotic foundation for layers of synths and electric keys to fully blossom and travel into cosmic territory. Limited to 300 copies on transparent ochre vinyl.

Groundbreaking early work from drummer Milford Graves and pianist Don Pullen – a set of long, free improvisations that were originally issued on Graves' Self-Reliance Productions label! The music is even more striking than sounds from the time on the ESP label – and also really predates some of the freer work of this type from the European scene – as Graves is a monster on the drum kit and a range of percussion, reaching out with this scope of sound and deft command of his hands that's simply breathtaking – matched by energy from Pullen that really surpasses some of his later work too – almost Cecil Taylor-like vibes at points, mixed with other elements that are in a more familiar mode for the pianist.