Cerca:pos

Anathema has spent the vast majority of their career making music that defies
description. As part of the Peaceville 3, along with Paradise Lost & My Dying Bride,
Anathema have carved a strong legacy since their inception at the turn of the 1990s,
to become a widely revered & respected band within both the metal world & beyond,
as their sound & compositions progressed from doom/death metal into more rock &
progressive territory with each subsequent release, becoming one of the UK's most
cherished & critically acclaimed rock bands.
'The Silent Enigma', Anathema's second studio album, was originally released in the
summer of '95 & was the first release on which guitarist Vincent Cavanagh took over
the vocal duties of the departed Darren White. Where Darren's vocals were guttural,
Vincent's style pushed the possibilities for Anathema onwards & upwards, with a
scope & breadth beyond his years, complimenting an ethereal roller- coaster of
thoughtful atmospherics & crushing Celtic Frost style riffs - the Swiss legends being a
notable inspiration. What emerged was a fine example of highly-atmospheric & often
emotional gothic doom, spawning classic Anathema songs such as "Restless
Oblivion", "Sunset Of Age", "The Silent Enigma" & "A Dying Wish". Lauded by the metal
press & fans alike as a doom metal classic, the album's popularity has remained a
favourite within the metal scene.
This special 30th anniversary edition of 'The Silent Enigma' is presented on limited
marble vinyl, with the vinyl mastering work carried out by Abbey Road Studios,
London.

"The five-year anniversary release of Orion Sun’s Hold Space For Me, pressed on tangerine vinyl. Her story, that of an early 20s woman of color dealing with and learning about life's obstacles and celebrations, is understood best through her song lyrics; citing J Dilla, Nancy Wilson, Jodeci, Kirk Franklin, Hazel Scott and Digable Planets as just some of her many influences. She's a career artist with a long road ahead and her sound defies trends; capitalizing on a velvety and familiar voice with timeless jazz / folk / R&B instrumentals.

“...a pinch-yourself song that steps lightly with the thrill of a love seemingly too good to be true (and the fear that it might be)” – Philadelphia Inquirer on “Ne Me Quitte Pas”

“stark and lightly poetic.” – Pitchfork

“A smooth, serene downbeat groove and a blissed vocal finds Orion Sun singing about sudden and deep connection — “It feels so good to know ya” — and despite the sadness implied in the title, the outlook is positive and pure.” – WXPN/The Key on “Ne Me Quitte Pas”

“While the track shares the same title as covers done by Nina Simone, Regina Spektor, and Wyclef Jean, she presents a completely different vibe, slowing down a flipped sample with smooth guitar loops and resonating drums. Still, with all of the stellar instrumentation, the 23-year-old’s voice cuts through as poignant as ever.” – Refinery 29 on ”Ne Me Quitte Pas”"

Das dritte Album der Londoner Band Sorry!

Seit ihrem Debüt "925" 2020 arbeiten Sorry an einer Topografie aus Anspielungen, Zitaten, falschen Fährten. Nun, mit COSPLAY (ab 7. November bei Domino), reißen sie die Landkarte ab, zeichnen alles neu. Ein Album als Maskenball: Jede Figur darf hier auftreten, lebend oder tot, real oder erdacht. Es ist das Werk, das Sorry von sich selbst befreit. Das Album fühlt sich an wie ein Spielzimmer für popkulturelle Geister. Ein Guided by Voices-Song mutiert zur Ballade über die Schmuddelecken des Ruhms, die berühmteste Cartoonfigur der Welt schleicht sich als Sirene ins Bild, theoretische Physik wird zu Rockmusik, die schwerer schlägt als jede Formel. Sorry haben das neue Material bereits live erprobt, erst auf eigener UK-Tour, dann als Support von Fontaines D.C., und man hört die Mischung aus Selbstsicherheit und Übermut, die dabei gewachsen ist.

Das dritte Album der Londoner Band Sorry!

Seit ihrem Debüt "925" 2020 arbeiten Sorry an einer Topografie aus Anspielungen, Zitaten, falschen Fährten. Nun, mit COSPLAY (ab 7. November bei Domino), reißen sie die Landkarte ab, zeichnen alles neu. Ein Album als Maskenball: Jede Figur darf hier auftreten, lebend oder tot, real oder erdacht. Es ist das Werk, das Sorry von sich selbst befreit. Das Album fühlt sich an wie ein Spielzimmer für popkulturelle Geister. Ein Guided by Voices-Song mutiert zur Ballade über die Schmuddelecken des Ruhms, die berühmteste Cartoonfigur der Welt schleicht sich als Sirene ins Bild, theoretische Physik wird zu Rockmusik, die schwerer schlägt als jede Formel. Sorry haben das neue Material bereits live erprobt, erst auf eigener UK-Tour, dann als Support von Fontaines D.C., und man hört die Mischung aus Selbstsicherheit und Übermut, die dabei gewachsen ist.

2xLP Indie-Exclusive Translucent Ruby-Red Vinyl im Gatefold-Cover mit bedruckten Innenhüllen und einem gefalteten 36" x 24" Poster-Einleger.

2xLP Sky-Blue Vinyl im Gatefold-Cover mit bedruckten Innenhüllen und einem gefalteten 36" x 24" Poster-Einleger.

3xLP (1x Rot / 1x Weiß / 1x Blau) 140g Vinyl in stabiler Box mit abnehmbarem Deckel, UV-Glanzlackierung + 24x12-Poster

LOST SONGS – 10 unveröffentlichte Lieder von Mikis Theodorakis, arrangiert und gespielt von Henning Schmiedt

Zum 100. Geburtstag von Mikis Theodorakis (29. Juli 2025) erscheint bei Intuition Records ein besonderes Album: LOST SONGS – vierzehn bislang unveröffentlichte Kompositionen des weltbekannten griechischen Komponisten, erstmals präsentiert in einer außergewöhnlichen Klavier-Version von Henning Schmiedt. Der Berliner Pianist und Komponist beschreibt die bislang unbekannten Lieder wie folgt: „Diese Melodien sind so großartig, dass man sich wundert, dass sie noch nicht existierten. Jetzt wissen wir, dass es sie doch gab.“ 2008 kam es im Athener Studio von Mikis Theodorakis zu einem besonderen Moment: Henning Schmiedt spielte dem Komponisten persönlich seine Klavier-Versionen der LOST SONGS vor. Theodorakis, der sich an einige der Lieder erinnern konnte, an andere nicht, hörte aufmerksam zu, machte Anmerkungen und gab Hinweise, die direkt in die abschließende Gestaltung der Stücke einflossen, so dass LOST SONGS als posthum veröffentlichtes Album gelten kann. Diese Lieder dokumentieren die musikalische Reife und Ausdruckskraft von Mikis Theodorakis bereits in jungen Jahren: Die meisten der LOST SONGS entstanden Anfang der 1940er-Jahre – ein eindrucksvoller Einblick in die frühen Kompositionen eines der bedeutendsten Komponisten des 20. Jahrhunderts. Die Lost Songs werden nun zu seinem 100. Geburtstag veröffentlicht.
Rezensionen
»Schmiedt überzeugt nicht nur durch sein sensibles und nuanciertes Klavierspiel, sondern auch als einfühlsamer Interpret, der das Werk und die geistige Welt Theodorakis’ genau zu verstehen scheint.​« (jazz-fun.​de, Juli 2025)

To mark the 25th anniversary of their formation, Perizona Experiment is releasing a ‘best of’ compilation album, titled “25” and produced by Vina Records. Their music is characterized by psychedelic landscapes, floating harmonies and alternations of powerful stoner-rock riffs with post metal melodies.

"Love it! Electronic wonkiness at its finest" - Richard Norris (The Grid)

TEA, CAKES AND THE (WO)MAN MACHINE

Curtain Twitcher could only have emerged from Sheffield.
A female electronic duo whose corrupted downtempo post Balearic chug pulses and wobbles, throbs and twitches - full of fat noises and bolshy Moogery.
It's human and appealingly analogue. More Delia Derbyshire's Radiophonic Workshop than DAF, More Tangerine Dream than Depeche Mode. Not your average bloketronica.

Frankly this music doesn't behave itself in any way you might expect. Plugged in post rave pop can be far too orderly. Music should be messy. Even on occasion revealing a tune your mum could hum.

"Leap The Dips" emerged from machine jamming with a creative freedom that only comes from friendship. That friendship is a musical one but it's also real and genuine: "We’ll talk about pretty much owt if you provide the tea and cakes".

Repress!

200 COPIES ONLY

Nils Frahm has unexpectedly confirmed details of a new collection of solo piano music, his first album since 2022’s three-hour Music For Animals. Day will be released by LEITER on March 1st, 2024, and it will be available on limited edition vinyl as well as via all digital platforms. Recorded in the summer of 2022 in complete solitude and away from his studio at Berlin’s famed Funkhaus complex, it is preceded by a single, ‘Butter Notes’, out on January 19. Day may come as a surprise to those who, over the last decade, have watched Frahm shift slowly away from the piano compositions with which he first made his name in favour of a nonetheless still-distinctive approach that’s considerably more instrumentally complex and intricately arranged. In addition, in 2021, having spent the early part of the pandemic arranging his archives, he released the 80 minute, 23-track Old Friends New Friends, a compilation of previously unreleased piano music intended to enable him to ”start over” with a clean slate. Judging from the extended, ambient nature of Music For Animals, it proved a successful gambit, but Frahm has never been able to resist returning to his first love, and those who enjoyed earlier acclaimed albums like The Bells, Felt and Screws will once again revel in Day’s familiar, personal style. Day, which contains six tracks, three over the six-minute mark, is the first in a pair of albums Frahm has lined up for 2024. In keeping with their nature, however, he won’t be making a song and dance about the release. Instead, he’ll resume his ongoing world tour, which has already included fifteen sold-out dates at Berlin’s Funkhaus as well as a show at Athen’s Acropolis. It will continue with shows all over the world, among them several sold-out dates at London’s Barbican in July 2024, where he previously curated a weekend of music, film and art, Possibly Colliding, in 2016. The album is best enjoyed in the manner in which it was recorded, in the intimacy of a peaceful, cosy room. There are muffled pedal creaks on the cyclical, quietly jazzy ‘You Name It’ and, during the palliative ripples of ‘Butter Notes’’ arpeggios, the sound of dogs barking in the streets outside. The compassionate, hesitant ‘Tuesdays’ and emotionally ambiguous ‘Towards Zero’ linger with the poignant persistence of Harold Budd’s earliest work, while ‘Hands On’ is a sometimes brighter, airier tune that sets its own, deliberate pace, and, as he has on occasions before, ‘Changes’ sees Frahm employing elements of his instrument’s construction in a ‘prepared piano’ fashion. Characterised by its confidential mood, Day confirms that, while Frahm is arguably now best known for elaborate, celebratory concerts calling upon an arsenal of pianos, organs, keyboards, synths, even a glass harmonica, he’s still a prolific master of affecting simplicity, tenderness and romance.

funcionário delights in the freedom of creating freeform music for the first time in his career. On “horizonte”, he loosens the reins, his sound follows a wavy, organic structure rather than a rigid, formal one. If it feels freer and more colourful, that’s because it truly is.

Eight years ago, when we first encountered his work, he was composing soundtracks for imaginary video games and crafting sonic landscapes that felt like destinations for sci-fi anime characters. With “Cavalcante” (2022), he broke away from that past. It marked a turning point, he was ready to explore a “fourth world” in both sound and concept. The feedback was overwhelming.

Three years later, “horizonte” marks another evolution. He sends us music regularly, but this album stood out immediately. It felt right: more synth-driven, more open to improvisation. As he put it: “It’s like using oil pastels for the first time and discovering new possibilities. In a way, I’ve found new ways of creating using the same colours.”

Listening to horizonte is like waking up from a dream. Again and again. The opening track, “nascer”, suggests a new dawn, but it’s in “pássaros” that the vision fully takes flight: less processed, more raw, yet still detailed and expansive.

Finding new ways with the same colours has been his quiet mission all along. What’s new here aren't the tools, but the feeling. The movement. The invitation to travel with him. You can hear - and feel - his sense of wonder. Every sound radiates joy. Every moment sparks a new thought. The music moves quickly, but breathes slowly.

Tracks like “renascer” and “o caminho do regresso” echo the spirit of late-70s/early-80s Vangelis, in deep reverence. And just as you approach the end, “fantasma” arrives - a stunning closer, reminiscent of Eno’s “An Ending”. By then, it’s clear: the “fourth world” is behind him. funcionário has moved on. To where? We’re about to discover.

The word "amateur" originates from the Latin word "amator," meaning "lover" or "admirer". This Latin term is derived from "amare," which means "to love". The French adopted "amateur" from Latin, and the English then borrowed it from French, initially retaining the sense of someone who loves or is devoted to something. Over time, the English usage of "amateur" also developed a meaning related to a lack of professional skill or experience. How did a word derived from love become a slur? Is love really so defenseless? They say love conquers all, but in reality isn’t love quite ridiculous? It has no intention, no motive, no agenda. How could it possibly prevail? It can’t be bought or sold, or so they say.Its mere existence can't be proven or even measured. What an impossible thing. Trying and failing, time and time again, no wonder cynicism always seems to win. I see “amateurism” as a delighted, even foolish, protest. Protest against everything. Of what’s expected of someone, or expected of someone to desire or strive for. To be elite, to be expert, to be professional, to be a master, to excel and succeed. Where’s the joy in that? I just want to have fun. I want to want. I want to love. And keep doing it, forever. I want to have fun, even when it’s tiring and sometimes even heaven is boring as hell. I want to be bad. I want to do my own thing. “I vant to be alone”. I want to be someone so dedicated to their passion that it starts to seem like there’s something wrong with them. All the way. We can take it all the way, and never get it back. ” - Molly Nilsson Amateur is the 12th studio album by Molly Nilsson. Deep in the teeth of a career that threatens to tip into something resembling a “legacy,” Molly Nilsson celebrates with an album recorded instinctively, quickly and bursting with so many moments of emotional brilliance and clarity it may be her greatest yet. Hers has been a career spent reaching out, perennially powerful in her earnestness, a warrior ridiculously defenceless and armed with a glittering sincerity. Shearing herself of the machinations of the music industry, recording at home, writing direct to the heart. Amateur is a jubilee for losers. A treatise in 13 songs, Amateur states clearly that we should live our life with eternal curiosity, offers us an open hand of comradeship out of the rat race. The songs on the album are both some of the most personal of Nilsson’s career and the most anthemic. First single How Much Is The World asks us to re-evaluate value in the face of a Neo-liberal system squeezing the life out of our loves. Pulsing opener Die Cry Lie satirises the commercialisation of emotion in the form of a shout-along diss-track. With a pounding rhythm track held down by gorgeous chord changes, heartbreaker Valhalla carries the torch for the main themes of the album: never growing up, making mistakes with kindness, moving on. When the drums crash in on the line “It’s going to get better now, you’ll see, going to be much better off without me” there is a world of feeling swirling about in the vocal delivery. One reading of the track might be that it’s a break up song but the subtext is classic Molly Nilsson: by living truthfully, making mistakes, we’re active agents against the myriad oppressions of the world. All The Way takes the theme for a run into the eternal sunset. It’s a manifesto for living fully. “Take it all the way, and never get it back” - it’s the process that’s the important point. The journey not the destination. Big Life, follows on like a part 2: An ode not only to Molly Nilsson’s career of endless gigs, endless connections with people, it’s a massive ode for following your dreams, doing it yourself. Closer The Bitter End is a powerful anthem for friendship, another definition of love infused in Nilsson’s work, A beautifully poignant ode to comradeship til the end, it seems to be the songwriter approaching aging, approaching life’s inevitability with the same vigour and earnestness, the same love of life she enjoyed at the onset of her career. There are moments on Amateur shrouded in reverb, slightly out of focus, forcing the listener to step deeper into the Mollyverse.. Nilsson’s open-armed beseeching to the world permeates every beat, every chord. These are songs exploding with life: the chunky, aggressive bassline on the punker Get A Life can’t hide its massive, catchy chorus. The sweeping Swedish Nightmare might be a tongue-in-cheek self-reference, but at its heart it’s a song about the duality of living life large, what is a dream, what is a nightmare? Molly Nilsson says you can’t have one without the other, and why would you want to? Here’s to making mistakes.

Anushka Chkheidze + Robert Lippok’s »Uncontrollable Thoughts« on Morr Music is the duo’s debut joint release. The Netherlands-based Georgian composer and the German sound artist from Berlin first met in 2019 in the context of a workshop programme that took place in Tbilisi, and later worked with Eto Gelashvili, Hayk Karoyi, and Lillevan on the massive »Glacier Music II« music and book project, released in 2021. This led them to engage in a less conceptually driven form of musicking and real-time composition that corresponds with their respective environments. They draw on traditions such as minimal music or late 1990s and early 2000s electronica to integrate subtle beats with elegiac organ drones, playful melodies with lush textures. The first document of an ever-shifting intergenerational dialogue, »Uncontrollable Thoughts« is a product of mutual listening outside time.

Though Chkheidze and Lippok had access to professional studios, they chose to rent a simple rehearsal space, equipped with only the bare essentials—bass and guitar amps as well as a small PA—to maintain immediacy in their working process. The music they made together corresponded to and drew on the respective possibilities and shortcomings of this studio, much like their collaboration in general is characterised by the care with which they approach each other's talents and ideas. While both had loosely defined roles—Chkheidze was responsible for the free-flowing beat programming and the evocative distortion came courtesy of Lippok, for example—they individually contributed in different ways to their joint process, which is as free of hierarchies as it is limitless. Hence, the duo’s focus on spontaneity and out-of-the-moment emergence makes them organically move beyond tried and tested conventions, resulting in music that seems to suspend time altogether.

When the first chimes on »Bird Song« announce a piece that sets rattling kickdrums against a backdrop of layered drones and rhizomatically entangled melodic elements, it becomes clear why »Uncontrollable Thoughts« carries this title: The album follows the constant detours of the subconscious of its makers, letting them explore moments of ecstasy such as on »Rainbow,« melancholy with »Field,« and the interplay of suspense and release through the ten-minute-long title track. But the different pieces also tie into one aother in various ways. The dirge-like organ drones on which »Rainbow Road« ends reappear in the beginning of »Uncontrollable Thoughts,« much like Chkheidze’s gentle yet emphatic piano chords on »Field« seem to provide the starting point from which the artist develops the striking motifs of the final piece »Opening«, whose title itself suggests that the record as a whole can and should be enjoyed as a loop. All this creates a unique, idiosyncratic temporal logic.

While there is much that sets Chkheidze and Lippok apart as solo artists, the major shared leitmotif in their respective bodies of work is the sonic engagement with space. »Uncontrollable Thoughts« is hence best understood as an extension of this practice; as an album that maps the geographies of their minds in motion, tracing musical movements as they melt into each other.

Firing remix package of cuts from two legendary album's from Brazil's Orquestra Afro-Brasileira. Feat

Two albums - Obaluayê (1957) and Orquestra Afro-Brasileira (1968) - were enough for Orquestra Afro-Brasileira to mark its history in music forever. Born in 1942 in Rio de Janeiro by its founder Abigail Moura, it remained active until 1970 and, in 2021, was revived by the only living member of the original line-up at the time, Carlos Negreiros, when the third and final album in the orchestra's career, entitled 80 years, was released by Amor in Sound/Night Dreamer. Today (31) the album gets its remix version with tracks signed by names of the caliber of Marcelo D2, Criolo, Pupillo, Emicida, Rael, Cut Chemist, Mexican Institute of Sound, among others.

Aiming to keep the legacy of the Orquestra Afro-Brasileira alive, the album 80 Anos (Remixes) reaffirms the group's relevance as a creative source for different generations of musicians and listeners, based on new interpretations produced by artists who are also fans of the orchestra. According to Mario Caldato Jr., the album's musical director, "it was a great joy when I got to know the work of the Afro-Brazilian Orchestra and, soon after, had the honor of meeting and working with Carlos Negreiros. Producing 80 Anos alongside him was a gift and being able to look back on it, having the remix album to celebrate this legacy, is really wonderful."

For Amor in Sound - Mario and Samantha Caldato's record label - this release faithfully represents their values: Respect for memory, diversity, friendship and the possibility of creating new worlds. Made in a totally collaborative way, the album is born as a historical record, interpreted by great names in current music and, above all, great friends. “Being able to do this is indescribable, the value of relationships makes up and continues the legacy of the Orquestra Afro Brasileira,” says Samantha.

The project brings together Brazilians Criolo, Emicida, Rael, Marcelo D2, Lucio Maia, Pupillo, Rogê, Tropkillaz, Kassin, Pedro Dom, Zilladxg, Nuts, Daniel Ganjaman, Imperatore and Nave, as well as international DJs and producers such as Mix Master Mike, Cut Chemist, Gaslamp Killer, J Rocc, TASO, Mexican Institute of Sound and Mophono.

Broken District presents Theoric Proximity, the debut album from French producer and label co-founder Jus Jam. Known for his blend of dreamy atmospheres and groove-driven productions, Jus Jam delivers a 12-track journey exploring the subtle balance between introspection and the dancefloor.

The record flows between ambient textures, deep and leftfield house, broken beat, hip-hop, and jazz influences, creating a cohesive yet versatile soundscape. From late-night moods to club-ready moments, Theoric Proximity reflects the artist’s unique approach: instinctive, emotional, and personal.

A milestone release for both the artist and the Bordeaux-based label, Theoric Proximity positions Broken District among today’s forward-thinking electronic imprints.

In between the folds of ceremony and commonality lies a perennial spring of musical expression.

A statement along the time continuum, or a testament to the resilient resourcefulness embedded in that truth, forms the philosophical approach of this album – the first outing of Dídac.
Studying an extensive archive of instruments, artifacts, and field recordings at the Musée d’ethnographie de Genève—a space steeped in folkloric gesture – Dídac encountered a cosmos of liturgical music and folk song. Anchored in reverance for tradition and transformation alike, this album navigates the old-world Mediterranean lore through a post-modern ambient lens, threading drone, gentle rhythm, electroacoustic textures and the crude tactility of archival material into one woven tapestry.

Under the guidance of Dr. Madeleine Leclair, Dídac was invited to work within one of the world’s most extensive ethno- musicological archives—L’AIMP. In the saturated basements and tape-lined backrooms of the museum, he submerged himself in the sounds of ritual and rural life: wax cylinders from the Eastern Mediterranean, tapes of liturgical hymn, the worn edges of communal song.
In a makeshift studio on the fourth floor of the museum, he sifted through the hours of material he collected, gradually discovering that the archive was no static source – It did not dictate; rather, it served as a companion—offering not answers, but questions. Not a beaten track, but a cluster of sonic clues and riddles. Samples do appear occasionally, tenderly interwoven into the dialogue of the songs. In Dídac’s self-titled debut, the past is not worn as ornament or kitsch; it is listened to and responded to. The museum, its archives, and the visit to Geneva became a foundational culisse of sorts, igniting a myriad of rough cuts and improvisational outtakes.
Dídac, or Diego Ocejo Muñoz, was born in Madrid in 1994 to a family of both Catalan and Castilian origin.

Brought up in a religious household, the influence of the Catholic Church innately shaped the social fabric, schooling and daily life. This lingering dominance led the adolescent Diego into a path of rejection of everything sacramental, promptly resorting to subversion in the shape of grafitti, skateboarding and underground music. Only later in life, after a rigorous venture as an acid and electro producer, the Church re-emerged before him in new light, invoking a deep fascination for its mysticism, iconography and choral tradition.

Spain in general and Catalonia in particular, has long served as a crossroads of the eastern–western Mediterranean continuum, with many of its cultures sharing aspects of way of life and ceremony. At the MEG, Diego found himself puzzled with this realization, resulting in a sonic amalgamation that reaches farther away from the rugged mountains of Catalonia than you might perceive at first encounter.

The deeply embedded memory of rite and public ceremony, religious hymn and landscape—sieved through the undercurrent of personal re-emergence, forms the emotional topography of this album. The record does not trace this landscape; it inhabits it. Its repetitive mysticism and ambient, wide-eyed gaze could possibly evoke (perhaps redundant) comparisons to artists such as Dimitris Petsetakis, or Popol Vuh’s late 70’s cinema scores.
The delicate lines between the sacred and the secular – between memory and re-invention – serve as a cipher to understanding this album in its entirety. Titles like Malpàs Mines or Pantocrator’s Portal Outro nudge toward a folkloric and devotional bedrock—places where labor and spirituality coexist, where names preserve both dust and veneration.

Nevertheless, this is far from mere nostalgia. It is a reclamation — singing alongside the spirits of the past, nurturing what still hums beneath the soil. It is an intimate reflection on tradition, rebellion, adolescence, ceremony and fantasy – a pastoral contemplation on what once was and what is to be.

An electrified meeting of minds, Candy Girl is a lost 1975 session by jazz pianist Mal Waldron, recorded in Paris with core members of the mighty Lafayette Afro Rock Band, the American funk unit who had made France their home and whose deep grooves would later be mined by generations of hip-hop producers.

By 1975, Waldron was a decade into his self-imposed exile from the United States—a transformed musician who had reassembled his sound in Europe and Japan after a devastating breakdown in the early '60s. His post-1969 output had stripped jazz down to its core elements: modal intensity, locked grooves, and hypnotic repetition. Candy Girl doesn’t interrupt this trajectory—it extends it, wrapping Waldron’s minimalist mantras around the funked-up chassis of the Lafayette rhythm section.

Originally released in microscopic quantities on the Calumet label and long shrouded in obscurity, Candy Girl was recorded spontaneously in the studio of French producer Pierre Jaubert, whose Paris HQ had become the workshop for both avant-garde jazz (Archie Shepp, Art Ensemble of Chicago, Steve Lacy) and psychedelic funk (Lafayette Afro Rock Band AKA Ice). This session finds Waldron jamming freely with bassist Lafayette Hudson, drummer Donny Donable, and keyboardist Frank Abel on clavinet, Moog and more—laying down raw, unfiltered instrumental funk with an experimental edge.

Highlights include the low-slung vamp of “Home Again”, the crisp, break-laden groove of “Red Match Box”, and the mesmeric swirl of the title track “Candy Girl” —a minor-key electric piano waltz with hints of cosmic soul. There's even a deep cut for the crate diggers: the somber yet meditative “Dedication to Brahms”, where Waldron deconstructs the Romantic composer’s third symphony into a sparse jazz reverie.

Unlike his polished sessions for Japanese labels or the avant-garde swing of his earlier Prestige work, Candy Girl feels more spontaneous, even accidental — and that’s part of its power. It’s a document of Waldron as bandleader, collaborator, and explorer, captured in the midst of a vibrant, cross-cultural scene in mid-70s Paris. Never officially issued with a cover and barely released at all, Candy Girl is a rare convergence of two underground traditions: Waldron’s Euro-exile electric jazz and the raw, sampled-future funk of the Lafayette Afro Rock Band. Now finally resurfaced, it deserves its rightful place in both stories.

The Dead 60s seminal self-titled album gets a timely Deluxe edition reissue on Vinyl for its 20th Anniversary, on Deltasonic Records



“Back in the day, punk and dub weren’t just sharing space—they were smashing into each other headfirst. Late '70s Britain was a pressure cooker, and for kids like me, growing up between Brixton’s bass bins and the chaos of King’s Road, that collision was everything. Jamaican sound system culture met punk’s raw spirit in a haze of smoke, sweat, and feedback. It wasn’t about genre—it was about energy. Identity. Defiance. so when The Dead 60s came along, post-Britpop and post-bullshit, it felt like someone had dusted off the blueprint and run it through a battered old tape echo. These weren’t just lads with good taste—they understood the assignment. They took the DNA of two rebel cultures and mutated it into something that could stand tall in the 21st century. Dub-soaked, punk-fuelled, dripping with that Liverpool attitude. I remember first hearing them and thinking—yeah, here we go again. Not in a retro way, but in a real way. Guitars that cut like sirens in the night. Basslines fat and warm, straight out the Channel One playbook. Lyrics that painted the grey corners of Britain like CCTV poetry. It was the sound of youth under pressure. The sound of not fitting in—and not wanting to.

Their debut album dropped in 2005, and it hit like a flare in the dark. “Riot Radio” was a pirate broadcast from the concrete frontlines. “Control This” swaggered with menace and reverb. It was like someone opened a time capsule from the punky-reggae party and rewired it for a new generation.

Now, with this 20th anniversary vinyl reissue—complete with the full dub companion produced by Central Nervous System—we get to hear the bones and blood of it all. The dub versions pull the tracks apart and let the ghosts speak. Reverb, delay, space—it’s not just production, it’s meditation. Revolution slowed down to a heartbeat. It’s music that makes you move and think. What they’ve done here is more than remix a record—they’ve revealed its soul. That’s what dub does when it’s done right. And The Dead 60s, they got that. They weren’t tourists in the culture—they were students of it, shaped by it, and ultimately, contributors to the legacy. Liverpool’s long had a love affair with Jamaican music—you can hear it in the streets if you’re really listening. The Dead 60s tapped into that lineage, but they brought their own thing to the table. Punk's fire. Dub’s depth. Ska’s bounce. All filtered through a Northern lens and blasted out like protest graffiti. This 20th anniversary reissue ain’t about nostalgia. It’s a reminder. A celebration. A call to arms. Music like this doesn’t belong in a museum—it belongs on a system, shaking walls and waking minds. Crate diggers, completists, young punks, old heads—this one's for all of you.

So put it on and turn it up. Let the punk edge sharpen your thoughts, and the dub shake your bones ‘cos this isn’t just a reissue - it’s resistance on wax.....”