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Berlin-based composer and vocalist FRANKIE, also known as Franziska Aigner, and Dominican-American producer Kelman Duran meet at the Twelve Apostles Church, in the Berlin district of Schöneberg, sometime in 2022, at the beginning of the spring season. They were each asked to engage the space’s solemnity, and its reverence, through distinct performances. Their chance encounter, abounding with mutual curiosity towards each other’s practices, smoothened the path for a years-long collaboration, culminating in McArthur, their first joint album. Following a period of exchanging musical fragments and prompts at a distance, Aigner and Duran come together in Athens, and later in Los Angeles, to prepare the stuff and material for the album, slowly developing a body of work informed by shared hauntings, and a commitment towards the disjointed and the residual. Aigner describes her process as writing “into the negative space” of Duran’s beats—filling in, if not invigorating, their thudding and inflections, but without rearranging the integrity of the whole. The result is an album where time and geography are made elastic, and where sonic improvisations become a site for quiet, and cryptic, articulations of intimacy.

James Brown wants to know one thing before he and his band begin Sex Machine. “Can I get into the thing, really?,” he asks. His cohorts enthusiastically respond in the affirmative. And for the next hour and change, Mr. Dynamite gets into it and more, turning in a sweat-soaked, feet-moving, hip-swiveling, emotion-purging, in-the-red, drop-everything-you’re-doing-and-dance performance for the ages. Ranked by Rolling Stone among the 500 Greatest Albums of All Time, the sweeping 1970 effort towers as a testament to Brown’s inimitable legacy as well as the peak powers of his voice, vibrancy, and bands.

Sourced from the original master tapes, pressed at Fidelity Record Pressing, and housed in a Stoughton gatefold jacket, Mobile Fidelity’s numbered-edition 180g 33RPM 2LP set presents Sex Machine in audiophile sound for the first time. It explodes with the energy the lightning-strike music demands. Dynamic, immediate, present, airy: Everything from the brassiness and fluidity of the horns to the snap and decay of the snare to the swell and carry of the organ comes across in full-range perspective.

Then there’s Brown’s superhuman singing, which here emerges with a purity, naturalism, and transparency that ensure you feel everything. Screeching, shouting, pleading, moaning, preaching, stinging, commanding, testifying, crooning, humming: The Godfather of Soul contributes one of the finest vocal performances known to man. This definitive 55th anniversary reissue of Brown’s monster funk statement further exhibits a combination of clarity, solidity, separation, and imaging that helps bring to light what he and his crack ensembles committed to tape. Both in the studio and on the stage.

Just how lifelike does this reissue sound? Senior Mobile Fidelity Sound Lab engineer Krieg Wunderlich, who handled the remaster, notes: “There were some artifacts that sounded a bit like mistracking. But they turned out to be breath blasts on the vocal microphone. That is part of history. JB was workin' hard, and breathin' hard. And there was an edit the timing of that was truly strange. Again, a part of history.”

Originally marketed as a live album, Sex Machine contains six songs recorded in the studio and later overdubbed with canned crowd noise and reverberation. Save for “Low Down Popcorn,” the tracks on the latter half stem from a phenomenal performance captured in October 1969 at Bell Auditorium in Brown’s adopted hometown of Augusta, GA. The special relationship between the singer, the audience, and the location is palpable.

As the 1960s gave way to a new decade, Brown experienced immense success and dealt with unexpected change. Soul Brother Number One soon expanded his idea for an official live album captured in Augusta when the ensemble that backed him on that date morphed into the original version of the world-famous J.B.’s just months after the show. The virtuosic abilities, sticky chemistry, and rhythm-forward nature of the J.B.’s prompted him to book a one-off session in Cincinnati, OH, on a late July night.

Anchored by brothers William “Bootsy” Collins and Phelps “Catfish” Collins, the group — as well as two different drummers — laid down a nearly 11-minute rendition of “Get Up I Feel Like Being Like a Sex Machine” and a thrilling medley of “Bewildered,” “I Got the Feeling,” and “Give It Up or Turnit a Loose.” A pair of then-recent studio singles cut in separate locations in 1969, “Brother Rapp” and “Low Down Popcorn,” each featuring his prior group, took care of the second LP worth of material that complements the originally planned live set.

Complicated? Somewhat. Unusual? Definitely. But just as he elevated the expectations for all present and future R&B artists, Brown not only makes it all work. He makes it positively electrifying.

“Get Up I Feel Like Being Like a Sex Machine” is alone deserving of a dissertation on the art of funk music, seeing it moves up and down akin to an oil derrick, witnesses Brown unleashing a trademark series of grunts, squeaks, and “good god” asides, and glides to a hypnotic groove that won’t quit. Or look to the syncopated rhythms of “Brother Rapp (Part I and Part II),” one of multiple pieces here that signify the point where Brown began viewing every instrument as a percussive tool. Brown closes the three-song medley with his new band with a skedaddling “Give It Up or Turnit a Loose,” which provides jolts on the order of sticking your finger into a socket.

Not that the actual live material falls short in any way. Setting an insistent tempo for the vitality that follows, “I Don’t Want Nobody to Give Me Nothing” positions Brown as a role model, leader, and self-sufficient entrepreneur. All simmer and boil, the short and sweet “Licking Stick” dares you to keep pace. The floating, almost comforting “Spinning Wheel” spotlights the instrumental prowess of Maceo Parker and company, and functions as a seamless segue into the tender, horn-saluted “If I Ruled the World.”

And Brown and his mates still aren’t done. Just try to resist the one-two closing punch of “I Can’t Stand Myself (When You Touch Me)” and “Mother Popcorn.” Mercy.

Ain’t it funky? Sure ‘nuff.

GATEFOLD DOUBLE VINYL WITH SPOT UV FRONT COVER

Following the skewed-unself-help-brilliance of ‘Sus Dog’ (which marked his first full foray into songs, abetted by Thom Yorke), and its companion piece ‘Cave Dog’, Chris Clark returns to the dancefloor’s simple, but no less affecting pleasures, with ‘Steep Stims’.
“I found it hard to pull away from listening to this record, hard to stop making it, I had to remove myself from the Stims and stop enjoying it at some point. The album feels like nature to me. I love it when electronic music feels more naturalistic than acoustic music, more potent, that’s the devil’s trick, the promise of electronic music.” comments Chris.
“I used an old synth - the Virus on all of the tracks. I used it at Mess in Melbourne - run by my friend Robin Fox - I loved it so much I had to buy one when I got back to the UK, it took a while to find. They’re a bit clunky to program but make some of my most favourite sounds.”
‘Steep Stims’ marks a back-to-basics approach, invoking the early years of gung-ho creativity enforced by limitations in technology at the time. “Most of the tracks on this album capture the spirit of making music on old samplers, which don’t have much memory time”, explains Clark. “It reminds me of making ‘Clarence Park’, my first album, where I would have to finish tunes in the session, as they would be saved on floppy disks and I couldn’t easily go between tracks. This new record is just a few synths and a few choice sounds; the writing is the important thing.”
Made quickly, ‘Steep Stims’ reflects the immediate rave energy of his live show, but that’s not to say it’s basic floor fodder, as it’s rife with personality, synth magic, and knack for melody. Although swift and impressionistically captured rather than laboured over, it’s still formidably deft, with plenty of oddball weirdness lurking beneath the dancefloor.
Soft, orange, scorched, brutal, the opening track ‘Gift and Wound’ captures the classic dance music dread / awe / euphoria combo perfectly, before ‘Infinite Roller’ merges sparkly-minimalism with snarling bass and soft sines, which turn more dense and metallic as it progresses.
The melancholic smoke belch of ‘No Pills U’ gives strong classic vibrations, which is belied by its creation, made in just 20 minutes. “I love working quickly sometimes”, comments Clark. “Inspiration hits, rough and ready. It’s off the cuff but also screams ‘don’t gild the lily with nonsense, keep it simple keep it clean’”. Segueing into its elder brother, the piece becomes bigger and beatier on ‘Janus Modal’, where it permutates for over 7 minutes of fluttering, beatific club majesty.
At ‘18EDO Bailiff’ you inexplicably find yourself at a clearing, things have suddenly got much quieter. You enter a decrepit and eerie old house, and as you move through its unsettling interior, you arrive at ‘Globecore Flats’. A real piano tuned to 18 notes per octave gives the pair of tracks a haunted, olde worlde feel, which promptly gets eaten by a huge tech step tearout monster, birthing a strange but exotic beast.
The white hot ‘Blowtorch Thimble’ is all hooktasm-rave-hyper-amen-energy, whilst acidic flute leaps around like Ian Anderson on pingers throughout the catchily simple jump-up lurch of ‘Civilians’.
“‘In Patient’s Day Out’ is like some sort of Morricone-does-kraut-rock-with-drum-machines, but that’s probably just in my head” says Clark. “I made several versions of this then went with the early mix but cranked through some choice outboard because it just had something.”
Drumless, yet still full of exhilarating-big-trance-drama, ‘Who Booed The Goose’ flashes by in stroboscopic fast forward, then ‘5 Millionth Cave Painting’ gives a palate cleanser, letting “the virus with its delicious broken, luxurious reverb have a moment”, before ‘Negation Loop’ swoops down in all its glory, with Clark’s tweaked vocals leading deconstructed trance breakdowns, tape edits and brutal noisebursts.
An antidote to the bombast of its predecessor is ‘Micro Lyf’, which closes the set on a poignant note, of sorts. Muted staccato gives way to field recordings “that gradually put it in this outside space; alien in a meadow somewhere nameless. It feels like a sinkhole. The record kinda swallows itself up and then is gone”, ends Chris.

Sonetos del Amor Oscuro is an ode performed by four enchanted souls who have intertwined their hearts and conjured harmonies and rhythms that wander endlessly among the spellbinding words of a poet from Granada... Federico García Lorca;
He wrung, pushed and vibrated words like tectonic plates, transforming plains into poetic mountain landscapes. He then covered them with a Moorish carpet of snow crystals and had them reflected by the dark locks of hair of a gypsy girl from Albaicín who, with a voice forged in gold and silver, sings her little sister to sleep with a soothing lullaby.

Helena Casella – vocals
Myrddin De Cauter – flamenco guitar
Stijn Kuppens – cello
Stefan Bracaval – flute, bass flute

Helena Casella, the Belgian-Brazilian vocalist with a deep, soft and warm voice, translates her multicultural background and personal thoughts into music in a passionate, soulful and refined way. With her roots in an exceptionally musical family, her music exudes this unique heritage. She effortlessly interweaves genres such as R&B, soul, hip hop and modern jazz, while remaining true to the vibrant sounds of Brazil, an essential part of her roots.
Her debut album was released earlier this year on W.E.R.F. records.

Myrddin De Cauter's music is deeply moving, complex, passionately rhythmic and deeply emotional. He has mastered the compás of flamenco, which gives him the freedom to converse with elements from jazz or classical music. His speed sometimes seems otherworldly, but those who take the time to listen closely to his music will quickly discover an immense world of pure emotion, beauty and tranquillity. After six albums and countless concerts, Myrddin proves that great virtuosos do not necessarily have to come from Spain. At the tender age of eleven, his father taught him to play the clarinet in jazz and gypsy swing style; he became part of the family orchestra and gained his first experiences on stage. A classical melody composed on the guitar prompted him to ask his father to teach him the basics of flamenco guitar. Soon after, Myrddin seemed ready for the real thing and went to Andalusia to learn from Manolo Sanlucar and Gerardo Núñez. This inspired him to compose in his own unique language, deeply rooted in the pure flamenco tradition but enriched by boundless creativity.

Stijn Kuppens is a cellist, composer and producer. In his own genre, which he describes as non-classical cello, he uses the cello in his own unique way. His profound knowledge of the complex history and techniques of the style is clearly audible: Kuppens' mastery of classical music is evident in every note he plays, whether he is performing solo or collaborating with other musicians. His skill as a musician and ambition to explore the boundaries of conventional classical music is evident in his ability to seamlessly blend different genres.

Stefan Bracaval is a classically trained flutist who graduated from the Royal Conservatory of Antwerp. His fascination with the expressive potential of improvisation led him to jazz, where he became a self-taught jazz flutist. Bracaval has collaborated on projects with prominent jazz figures such as Charles Loos, Bert Joris and the Brussels Jazz Orchestra. In addition, he worked as a soloist and arranger with the VRT Radio Choir in 2016. Bracaval leads the Stefan Bracaval QU4RTET, which emphasises the flute as a central jazz instrument and brings new repertoire rooted in jazz traditions.

Live
31/10/2025 – Café Silverio, Gent (BE)
15/01/2026 – Kloosterkapel Diepenbeek (BE)
16/01/2026 – ‘t Ey, Belsele (BE)
17/01/2026 – Sint-Luciakerk (kerkconcerten Merode), Engsbergen (BE)
23/01/2026 – Muziekcentrum Dranouter (BE)

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.

The Sator Arepo, or Sator Square, is an ancient word puzzle comprising five palindromes that's etched on various historical sites throughout the Western world. Its origins are unknown, but the square has long been thought to hold magical properties, used as a charm against illness and evil, to cure insanity or to determine whether someone was guilty of witchcraft. Self-styled "punk ethnomusicologist", acoustician and musician Julien Hairon uses this mystical symbol as the starting point for his debut Judgitzu album in an attempt to reconnect with his Celtic heritage, exploring how its hallowed messages might harmonize with contemporary Tanzanian dance music.Hairon has been traveling across the world for over a decade, collecting field recordings from countries such as Indonesia, Australia, Cambodia, China and Bangladesh, and presenting them on his Les Cartes Postales Sonores label, re-issuing any curious cassettes and CDs he came across on the PetPets' TAPES imprint. It was during this time that he became fascinated by rituals that involved spirits, prompting him to examine his own ancestry when he returned to Brittany. "Many artifacts in the landscape remain," Hairon explains, "and the power of spirits is still palpable." He represents this Celtic mysticism on 'Sator Arepo' with murky drones and magickal synth tones, using xenharmonic scales (tuning outside of standard 12-tone equal temperament) that reach back to the ancient world. These sounds are augmented with fast-paced, sci-fi rhythms informed by his time in Tanzania; "Singeli has contaminated me," admits the producer.The most astonishing example of this is 'Miracle', a thrusting soundsystem experiment that layers serpentine, bagpipe-esque electronic wails over extravagant clusters of blocky percussion. Driven by the frenetic 175BPM pulse that echoes through the streets of Dar Es Salaam - popularized globally by forward-thinking producers like Sisso, Duke and Jay Mitta - Hairon opens up a rare conversation, seeking to draw parallels between today's most urgent dance forms and the archaic rituals of antiquity. On 'Vitalimetre', Hairon drives his sonic palette into the red, harmonizing with Dutch hardstyle and gabber, and splaying distorted drones over maddeningly blown-out kicks and ratcheting percussion. 'L'or Des Fous' takes a more meditative route, prioritizing Hairon's eccentric tonality with expressive sheets of pitch-warped sound that ghost walk across energized, rattling beats.If you heard Hairon's last Judgitzu release 'Umeme / Kelele', described by Boomkat as "one of 2019's deadliest dancefloor sessions," then you'll know how mindboggling this material can be. And with 'Sator Arepo', the French producer deepens his reach, grasping a world that we've almost forgotten and juxtaposing it with a landscape most of us barely comprehend.

The formative years of Hunter Thompson’s music as Akasha System were seeded and shaped by the shrouded meadows and wet woodlands of the Pacific Northwest: Sea Glass, Shadow Self, Echo Earth, Geomind. But pandemic flux flipped the script, prompting a migration to the monsoon tropics of Tampa. Heliocene ushers in a fresh chapter in the Akashic record, recasting the project’s precision synergy of cellular melody, holographic pads, spiral tribalism, and eco-futurist swing for a new solar age.

The album’s eight songs were recorded across 2023 and 2024, inspired by explorations of the many sanctuaries hidden in Florida’s ragged paradise: singing towers, ancient grottoes, emerald lagoons. From vortex house (“Purity Vector,” “Sun Particle”) to mirage electronica (“Haunted Planet,” “Soma Totem”) to hand drum divination (“Terraform Dream”), the sides flow, glow, and gleam, dialed in but dreaming out, tracing radiant waves of the eternal now.

“This album is a meditation to experience where and when you are, fully and wholly, regardless of where the path leads.”

Bret McKenzie ist ein Grammy- und Oscar-prämierter Künstler, der vor allem durch seine Band Flight of the Conchords und die gleichnamige Fernsehshow bekannt wurde. "Freak Out City" ist sein zweites Album mit geistreichen, anspruchsvollen Solosongs und baut auf den Stärken seines Debüts "Songs Without Jokes" auf (das vom FarOut Magazine als "musikalische Version eines Kurt Vonnegut-Romans" beschrieben wurde) und wird sicherlich Fans von nachdenklichen Singer-Songwritern wie Harry Nilsson, Elvis Costello, Father John Misty und klassischem Pop-Rock der 70er Jahre Freude bereiten. McKenzie ist international bekannt dafür, witzige, seltsame und einzigartige Songs zu singen und zu schreiben, vor allem für Film und Fernsehproduktionen. Bret McKenzies Lieder wurden bereits von Kermit dem Frosch, Celine Dion, Lizzo, Benedict Cumberbatch, Brittany Howard, Homer und Lisa Simpson, Fred Armisan, Miss Piggy, Amy Adams, Jason Segal, Ricky Gervais, Benee, Isabela Merced, Spongebob Schwammkopf, Tony Bennett, Mickey Rooney und vielen anderen gesungen. Das selbstbetitelte Debütalbum von Flight of the Conchords wurde 2025 mit Gold ausgezeichnet und ging prompt in einer limitierten Gold-Vinyl-Variante über den Ladentisch.

Mobile Fidelity's UltraDisc One-Step 180g 45RPM 2LP Set Plays with Authoritative Tonality, Airiness, and Clarity:
Pressed on MoFi SuperVinyl and Strictly Limited to
3,000 Numbered Copies
1/4” / 15 IPS Dolby A analogue master to DSD 256 to analogue console to lathe

Joni Mitchell is the only artist who could’ve made Hejira. The legendary singer-songwriter said as much when discussing the album decades after its release. Yet that fact seemed obvious from the moment the gold-certified effort streeted in fall 1976. An adventurous travelogue, probing narrative, and offbeat homage to freedom, Hejira remains an inimitable entry in the catalog of recorded music — a spare, gorgeous, meditative series of sonic vignettes comprised of floating harmonic pop, cool jazz, soft rock, and sensitive vocal elements that beckon feelings of motion, discovery, and self-examination.

Sourced from the original analog master tapes, pressed at Fidelity Record Pressing on MoFi SuperVinyl, and strictly limited to 3,000 numbered copies, Mobile Fidelity's UltraDisc One-Step 180g 45RPM 2LP set presents the record ranked the 133rd Greatest of All Time by Rolling Stone with definitive detail, richness, accuracy, and directness. Marking the first time the revered LP has received audiophile treatment, it's one of six iconic 1970s Mitchell records Mobile Fidelity is reissuing on vinyl and SACD.

Playing with a virtually nonexistent noise floor, dead-quiet surfaces, and superior groove definition, this collectible reissue reproduces in enveloping fashion the tones, textures, and craftsmanship that help Hejira function as the equivalent of a liberating trip down an open road with nothing but blue sky, natural landscape, and fresh air in the immediate vicinity. Passages bloom, carry, decay as they do amid an acoustically optimized environment. Soundstages extend far, wide, and deep, with black backgrounds and pinpoint images adding to the realism.

The reference-grade immediacy, airiness, and presence put in transparent perspective Mitchell’s dense strings of words, stream-of-conscious-like phrasing, and unhurried albeit forward momentum. Likewise, the instrumental contributions of her A-list support musicians — a cast that includes L.A. Express members John Guerin, Max Bennett and Tom Scott, plus Neil Young, Victor Feldman, and Abe Most — emerges with breathtaking clarity and dimensionality.

While Mitchell, whose intimate vocals and abstract guitar parts center everything, Mobile Fidelity's restoration of Hejira further reveals the visionary breadth of guitarist Larry Carlton and bassist Jaco Pastorius. Though heard on only four tracks, Pastorius' fretless bass epitomizes the fluid, subtle, flexible, roomy, and shape-shifting characteristics of songs that often appear to transpire out of nowhere akin to the formation of a puffy cumulus cloud overhead. In sync with Mitchell’s voice, Pastorius’ fusion hovers and floats, suspended in a fog you want to deeply inhale. The "grace notes" Mitchell desired on Hejira can now be heard in full. Ditto the luxurious tapestries of alinear lines, fills, and supplements unreeled on Carlton’s six-string.

Visually, the packaging of this UD1S set complements its identity as the copy to own. Housed in a deluxe slipcase, the LPs come in foil-stamped jackets with faithful-to-the-original graphics. This version is for listeners who desire to become immersed in everything about Hejira, including the unforgettable album cover — a pastiche of 14 different photos Mitchell used a Camera Lucida to assemble into one image that’s anchored by a portrait of her in a stoic pose — and the interior shots of Mitchell skating on a frozen Wisconsin lake wearing a pair of black skates, black shirt, and fur cape.

The notion of skating, feeling an awakening wind whipping against your face, and losing yourself to the surroundings are extremely apt for Hejira, which Mitchell wrote after a sequence of trips and relationships prompted her to reflect on the complicated conflicts between independence and marriage, success and satisfaction, duty and desire — and, more specifically, “the cost of being a woman.” The Canadian native delved into such themes before. But never as she does on Hejira, whose liberating, running-away aura doubles as another of Mitchell’s rejections of tradition as well as a suggestion of a better alternative.

At once observational and personal, expansive and insular, cheerful and poignant, Hejira spans a sea of human conditions, emotions, and circumstances. It addresses drifting, isolation, pleasure, place, time, and surroundings with strikingly poetic discourse matched with music that, save for the crooned ballad “Blue Motel Room,” forgoes conventional structures and choruses.

The jazz-based arrangements, marked by scaled-down percussion and all manner of bent, rounded, and unsettled notes, hint that Mitchell has no exact destination in mind. Excursions such as the moody “Furry Sings the Blues,” funky “Coyote” and edgy “Black Crow” throw open previously locked doors to possibility and journey. They signal it’s time for a welcome departure from norms and the past, one that leads to a heightened sense of clarity and perspective. Or, as Mitchell said upon choosing the album title, it’s time for “leaving the dream, no blame.”

Black Vinyl LP. The world has changed, we shouldn't try and pretend otherwise. While we were shut away in isolation our routines shifted, social patterns evolved, and our hopes and dreams were twisted into cobwebs we're still trying to wipe from our fingers. Ziúr tentatively approached this on her last album Antifate, an ambitious and complex hybrid pop fever dream that looked back to a Medieval escapist fantasy as the scent of revolution seemed to hum in the air. But when restrictions were eased, she found herself staring down a discombobulated society that had trapped itself in a spiral of microwaved nostalgia and detached, narcotic repetition. Eyeroll then is Ziúr's musical panacea, a tincture to wake us from our creative slumber and prompt external connection and reflection. It's a polyphonous hex that demands human interaction, and Ziúr's hand-picked alliance of collaborators - Elvin Brandhi, Abdullah Miniawy, Iceboy Violet, Juliana Huxtable, Ledef, and James Ginzburg - each provide distinct voices that together herald a bewildering sonic epoch. Ziúr's palette had to evolve to match the scope of the project, but it was pure necessity that informed the album's defining tone. Recording mostly at night, Ziúr was conscious of the noise she was making so developed a unique way to record organic percussion. Using a set of rototoms - low profile tunable drums - she scratched, scraped and gently tapped the skins to build up the undulating and unstable rhythmic backdrop for each track. It's the first sound we hear on the opener 'Eyeroll', rattling like lost marbles against Elvin Brandhi's primal croaks and screams. And when Brandhi's twisted articulations form words, Ziúr matches the energy with chaotic thuds and serrated blasts of saturated electronics. "I roll the shittiest cigarette," she squeals like she's about to start a mosh pit at Paris's GRM Studios. Without pause, Abdullah Miniawy takes over on 'Malikan', building on the promise of material with Simo Cell, Carl Gari and HVAD with corrosive trumpet blasts and charged, politically incendiary Arabic vocals. Inspired by pre-Islamic poetry and the Qu'ranic chanters he heard growing up in Saudi Arabia and Egypt, he spins labyrinthine stories that cross between the worlds, breaking down physical and spiritual borders simultaneously. Miniawy's scope is expanded even further on his second collaboration, 'If The City Burns I Will Not Run'. "If it rains and the city drowns," he utters over gaseous electronics, "I will not run away, but I will be anxious for the heart of one close to me." After a supple vocal turn from Manchester's Iceboy Violet on 'Move On' and a surreal interlude from poet- DJ-artist-theorist Juliana Huxtable on '99 Favor Taste', Brandhi returns with two more hyperactive collaborations: ,'Nontrivial Differential' and 'Cut Cut Quote'. On the former she slices into Ziúr's skeletal jazz eruptions, screaming and crooning interchangeably, fluxing between the rap battle and the cabaret. The latter is completely different meanwhile, with Brandhi settling into her role as front-woman and groaning dizzying improvised passages that sound like grunge crossed with psychedelic no-wave. Brandhi's spiky musical history has prepared her well for this collaboration; she's a prolific producer and has been using her voice spontaneously since debuting with father-daughter improv duo Yeah You in the mid 2020s. She's found an ideal foil in Ziúr, a producer who matches her restless energy and willingness to bend formality, and leaves an indelible mark on Eyeroll. But the album's most tender moments are from Ziúr herself, who winds the album down on 'Hasty Revisionism', growling over collapsible beats and cascading strings, and comes to an unexpected conclusion with country coda 'Lacrymaturity'. Its feverish amalgamation of country music and euphoric, experimental electronics might seem incongruous at first, but in context with the rest of the album is the only possible conclusion. With Eyeroll Ziúr is making a firm statement about togetherness, humanity, and the renewal of hope when all seems lost. By bringing together such a wide but philosophically harmonic team of collaborators, she's conducted a body of work that speaks to the creative fringe in no uncertain terms. Now's the time to throw away what you think you know, and build bridges you didn't think you need. Now's the time for action. She may have spent her entire career avoiding the solipsistic trappings of "queer art", but by assembling a communal statement that questions so many normative assumptions about music, politics, and beyond, Ziúr has chanced upon her queerest album yet. Cringe? Eyeroll.

The Isle Of Lewis is the largest such of the Outer Hebrides archipelago, and a place where myth and folklore are abundant, The Callanish Stones, a cruciform circle reckoned by tradition to be the forms of petrified giants who would not convert to Christianity, once prompted notable chronicler of the ancient Julian Cope to pronounce himself “Lashed by wind and rain but surrounded by vibe”.

This was where Holy Scum decided to take a pilgrimage for the recording of their second album proper for Rocket Recordings, All We Have Is Never. Frustrated by the physical and logistical challenges keeping the band members from collaborating, they decided the best way forward was at the residential Black Bay Studios on Great Bernera, a two hour plus ferry ride from anywhere. “The isolation of Black Bay was our salvation, a much-needed cleanse after a year of relentless misfortune” reckons the band’s Peter Taylor. Taylor describes the Holy Scum approach jokingly as ‘No riffs’ yet this belies an ability to carve abstraction and minimalism into monolithic and ominous shapes. Whilst the band are as handy as ever with excoriating and ear-splitting experimentation - as on the feverish guitar scree that underpins the taut‘Thieves’ - they also excel in a grittily vital charge as analogous to the ballsy kinetics of Fugazi and The Ex (the primal ‘I Am The Land’) as the overcast catharsis of Killing Joke and Voivod (the infectious ‘Witches’). “The title is a nod to the fact that everything ends - good, bad, ugly, beautiful “ reflects vocalist Mike Mare (Dälek) of their most focused work to date. “That is not a bad thing - it is a rebirth every time. We can spend a lifetime 24/7 together having shared experiences but living separate realities”. “I don’t think it is nihilistic,” he adds. “The despair turns into hope for sure”.

Eighteen Berlin-schoolish Synthwave tracks published under pdqb's moniker Aipd Q41/B47. Carefully prompted and edited many moons ago with an AI model that is already outdated.
To become aware of transience in our fast-paced world, the album is not available digitally or via streaming. It exists only on tape. A relic on a relic! It's as if reading this text on the paper of an extinct tree.

To remind the listener of their own transience, the tape's appearance is mirror-like silver; one can see their reflection in it, look at themselves, and with the next glance, the previous one is gone.

In a world where physical experiences are becoming rarer, artists are looking to connect their process to something more tangible, and with A/V rinsed, scent is an obvious next sense to plunder. Florian TM Zeisig - who last appeared on Somewhere Press as Angel R, goes the extra mile, teaming up with perfumer Angel Paradise to develop a suite of music that plays like a bouquet of memory-triggering aromas, coupled with a fragrance that captures the oily essence of their bucolic alpine setting. The project came about when both artists were living in Hinang, a small farming village in the rural Bavarian alps. Paradise was studying alpine plant behaviour and using her research to inform her approach to scent creation, developing natural perfumes based on the landscape. Zeisig, meantime, composed his own response to the mountains and forests that surrounded them. He wrote ‘Spool’ as a poignant farewell (or spiritual rebirth) as they prepared to leave, considering teenage nostalgia as well as the idyllic locale, and the pastoral suite of lulled loops, field recordings and dissociated instrumental vamps plays like a contemporary Heimatfilme soundtrack, locking into the genre’s idyllic, fantastical simplicity and romance. Drunken horn loops and mushy piano chords concertina around a wobbly axis on ‘Oneandhalf’, met by dreamy guitars and whispered, lysergic vocals. The sweet-smelling notes form an enigmatic compound, prompting us to think of Codeine or Galaxie 500 without solidifying completely. It’s music that works with outlines and traces, catching us off guard with flickers of samples and veiled base notes: the Cocteau Twins-like phased piano on ‘Threeandhalf’ that’s drowned out by gunked tape fog, or the smudges of ‘Spirit of Eden’ ambience on ‘Alright’ that creep between tweezed piano phrases. There’s depth too; Zeisig doesn’t restrict himself to Romance-cum-Basinski loopmuzak, he intersperses his GASeous orchestral waves with serene, relatively demure reflections that capture the pristine beauty of a dewy alpine morning. ‘Four’ is an ASMR-rich blend of crunching leaves and mossy, decelerated pads, and ‘Plus’ burns its drones down to crackling embers, letting the faint harmonies flicker through the coal dust. Importantly, it’s emotional music, but not overly melodramatic, finding peace in nostalgia and the calm of nature.

In 2022, Osàre! Editions founder Elena Colombi approached artists and musicians with a prompt: Every body, everyone needs love to flourish. In her book The Will to Change, the eminent author and social activist, Bell Hooks, invites men to excavate their innermost selves, challenging the way that patriarchal society limits their capacity for intimacy, tenderness, care and emotion. As hooks lays out, feminist thought and work requires the collective participation of all genders in order to realise a liberated world. How can we imagine cross-gender solidarity through music and art? And how can we tell sonic stories that facilitate our full potential as desiring beings? These are the questions that The Male Body Will Be Next starts out from.

The title of the record draws connections between hooks' writing, a film by Rebecca Salvadori and Peter de Potter's stunning photo series of the same name. In de Potter and Salvadori's depictions, men's bodies appear as vulnerable, naked and exposed.

Divided into two parts, the first instalment of The Male Body Will Be Next hinges on colliding energies – the melding of club dance floors and haunting ambient textures, agile techno and noisy experimentation.

'The sun on my skin… it’s so warm and gentle,’ speak-sings Olivia Salvadori on ‘Su Di Te M’Infrango’, visualising utopias. Laurel Halo crafts a dreamscape spun from golden threads of synth and strings. Pensive and reflective, Ben Bertrand’s bass clarinet roams searchingly, its piercing tonality full of longing. Yet, in between these lucid, cinematic passages and spoken word, The Male Body Will Be Next finds space to dance together. Moving in fervent, rhythmic patterns, Sepehr’s ‘Divooneh’ pivots between tension and release. Filmmaker unleashes a wave of energy and The Spy delivers a potent take on vintage electro, the track title hinting at the double-bind of gendered expectations. Propelled between these eclectic styles, the record encapsulates the full spectrum of sonic expression.

"Amazing! Like stumbling on a treasure-trove of unheard Charlie Patton and Blind Willie McTell 78s, but imbued with the spirit of Mahlathini and Ladysmith." Joe Boyd

'But for this compilation of rescued songs masterfully restored from rare 78 rpm shellacs, few could imagine the diversely beautiful roots of Zulu Guitar Music emerging during the period 1950 – 1965. Story-tellers and master musicians appropriate outlaw personae, re-purpose country and western, Hawaiian and other styles, to stretch and challenge our notion of “the Zulu guitar”.

Twenty-five songs (18 on vinyl) plunge us into the depths of the migrant experience. Translations in the liner notes offer us glimpses of pugnacity, melancholy and heartache, all coloured by the paternalism that circumscribed the singers’ apartheid-dominated lives.

The early *mbaqanga* undertow in many of the songs subverts the wanderlust of Country and Western music into a fugitivity burdened by nostalgia. Something irretrievable has been lost, prompting a blending of ideas and cultures to make sense through thankless acts of musical divination. Inadvertently they have been thrust into the role of the antihero, where outwitting competition for lovers is as important as evading the Black Jacks (apartheid’s municipal cops) and their informants.

Considering the politically repressive period that this music emerges from, we can surmise that the specificity in the storytelling went a long way towards evading censure. But even when words are absent, there is a narrative arc suggested by the musical expression.

With most of the master tapes wilfully destroyed or lost, modern transcription and restoration techniques from the original shellac discs present the original sound most likely more clearly than ever heard before.'

Produced for reissue by Chris Albertyn and Matt Temple at Matsuli Music and Siemon Allen at Flatinternational.
Artwork design by Siemon Allen.
Liner note and translations by Kwanele Sosibo.
Audio restoration and lacquers by Frank Merritt at The Carvery and pressed at Pallas, Germany.
Original 78rpm recordings sourced from the collections of Chris Albertyn at Matsuli Music, and Siemon Allen at the Flatinternational Archive.

A huge part of this exploratory new era was Aaron Dessner, who produced Light Sleeper. His isolated cabin studio Long Pond, in Hudson Valley, was once Bess' desktop background, but she never thought she would end up star-gazing on its veranda and noodling away on the same instruments used by her heroes, not to mention a certain pop star... The immediate trust between the pair clicked the moment Atwell walked through the doors of the iconic recording space; Dessner showed her around and then promptly left her alone to play on the many instruments at the heart of her favourite The National songs. As Atwell puts it, they seemed to speak the same musical language. "I trust his ear and I knew we had the same vision" she says.

Kindred spirits Passepartout Duo and Inoyama Land embody the essence of play - charting a new chapter and reinvigorating the environmental music and electronic landscape.

Passepartout Duo is formed of Nicoletta Favari (IT) and Christopher Salvito (IT/US), who since 2015 have been on a continuous journey travelling the world's corners, engaged in a creative process they term "slow music". Having been guests of many notable artist residencies and with live performances in cultural spaces and institutions, their evocative music escapes categorisation. With no fixed abode their musical pilgrimage brought them to Japan first in 2019, which prompted a deep connection to Kanky? Ongaku 'environmental music', a genre in which Inoyama Land is often associated with, soundtracking the duo's first immersive experience. In 2023 the duo revisited Japan and set out to reconnect in particular with the music of Inoyama Land, performed by Makoto Inoue and Yasushi Yamashita. The highly revered album 'Danzindan-Pojidon' (1983) produced by Haruomi Hosono amongst other well publicized and acclaimed reissues (Light in The Attic Records' Grammy-nominated compilation 'Kanky? Ongaku'), produced a global resurgence and admiration of the environmental music movement. Nicoletta took the lead to seek out Inoyama Land and in making contact successfully their intrigue and eagerness to meet was warmly reciprocated, and the group scheduled to meet in the form of a spontaneous improvisation session. "We're deeply concerned with what it means to be a duo, and what it means for people to connect through music."

Radio Yugawara is a unique one-off transmission from a specific place and point in time, unlikely to ever occur again. The respective duo's approach can really be described as "tuning in", a tuning into each other, to themselves, and to the surrounding nature of Yugawara. Like waves that travel off-world, sounds travel through the universe and can be lost forever if we don't seek them out. In finding a harmonic affinity within their instruments and a spiritual kinship in their interwoven performance, Radio Yugawara at its core is an interpretation of feeling, of close human interaction and the true essence of discovery.

"The album is both a transmission from a location, but also a tuning into the surroundings and to each other. Music in this kind of ephemeral moment is much less about active creation and more about discovering something which is already there in the air."

For their second album 'The Foel Tower', Quade holed up in an old stone barn in the cradle of a Welsh mountain valley.
The valley was a stark and windswept backdrop with little daylight, as the band would huddle around crackling fires each evening. “There was very much a feeling of being on the complete fringes of society,” the band says. “The last vestiges of settlement before the unrelenting barren moors that loomed over us.”
It was an environment that would shape the band – a Bristol four piece made up of Barney Matthews, Leo Fini, Matt Griffiths and Tom Connolly – and the record they have made. It’s an album that is as dreamy as it is melancholic, and as quiet and tender as it is forceful and potent – gliding across genres like winds blowing over those wide-spanning Welsh hills – to arrive at something the band half-jokingly, yet somewhat accurately, describe as “doomer sad boy, ambient-dub, folk, experimental post-rock.”

Quade is a band but it’s also a very close-knit group that have been friends since childhood who use this musical vehicle for interpersonal explorations and connections. “We’ve individually experienced a lot of difficulty over the last several years and Quade has represented a space to shelter from these,” the band says. “This means we often communicate extensively with each other about the issues affecting us individually and collectively. These conversations and concerns are central to The Foel Tower.”

In many ways, the making of this record – or any Quade record – goes way deeper than the simple writing, construction and recording of music. It is a profoundly deep and meaningful experience. “A key theme of the album relates to why we connect with specific places in the way that we do,” the group says. “We often remove ourselves to isolated valleys, sheltered from some of the painful personal struggles that we have experienced as a band. These become spaces in which we collectively purge ourselves of some of these difficulties hoping to make Quade a physical and emotional place of solace. This album celebrates these places that we’ve been able to retreat to and recuperate.”

It is a deep, dense record that is stuffed with musical, cinematic and literary influences – from Ursula La Guin and Cormac MacCarthy through to RS Thomas and Yeats – but despite the heavy, introspective and anxious nature of some of the material, it is also a record that is remarkably deft, agile and considered.

Made with producer Jack Ogborne and mixer Larry ‘Bruce’ McCarthy, there is a pleasing duality to the final sound of the record. One that feels fragile and intimate but also powerful and forceful, as introspective as it is expansive, and a record that is as detailed and textured as it is wide open and spacious.

The album title also pays homage to the place that shaped it so greatly. Within this remote Welsh valley stands the Foel Tower, a stone structure filled with valves and cylinders that can raise and lower the level of the reservoir to draw off water. Which it can then send as far as 70 miles to Birmingham. However, in the late 1800s this land was occupied by local farmers and families in the hundreds until the British Government acquired the land, cleared the valleys, and promptly displaced them in order to begin serving the vastly expanding industrial English city. The band dug into the history and politics of this and wove it into the themes they were already thinking about, using what the Foel Tower stands for as something of a contemporary metaphor. “This tension was something that we wanted to explore without the haughty judgement of our more metropolitan lifestyles,” they say. “And to explore how this specifically relates to ourselves: how can we envisage a genuinely ecological future for ourselves – one that is accessible, affordable and in harmony with endangered rural practices.”

What makes The Foel Tower such an incredible record is that it feels born of a time, place and situation that only existed in that very moment. It’s a snapshot of those 10 days spent in rural Wales and all the feelings and anxieties the band were experiencing at that specific time, magically caught on tape. “The album very much feels tied to this valley for us and the conversations and experiences we shared there,” they say. “It brings up a great deal of poignancy for us, an emblem of some fleeting respite from the strains we all have to experience. But there’s also deep sadness knowing how transient these moments are – in fact, there’s just a great deal of sadness in this album. But it’s also a record that while personal, resigned, and emotionally burdened, is ultimately hopeful.”

To speak to Luca Daniel Schwarz aka LDS about his music is to be enthusiastically guided into a complex world of his own creation: clean and powerful techno which pulses with life from the textured patterns and drum sequences that have fills and accents that would make anyone who’s picked up a set of drumsticks envious. Yet this ecosystem of noise is deceptive; Schwarz’s process for making music is very different to how a live drummer would create the same subtlety of performance. Forever researching new technology, Luca got deeply interested in different programming languages, and created a series of probability-based music tools for manoeuvring sounds and sequencing.
Manipulating those probabilities takes a skilful alchemy, needing understanding of both musical structure and how the tools he devised work. To return to the drummer analogy, if the drummer is focussed and intentional in the moment of playing, then the method used in LDS tracks is almost diametrically opposed, with all of the intention coming in the assembly of the instruments, potential paths, and gateways; once play is pressed the music flows, following all the rules that were set in advance, not unlike a domino run or Rube Goldberg machine. And like a domino run, the results are fascinating and, ultimately, fun: staccato vocals pop in and out in ‘zipp prompt’; laser-like synths pulse; background noises sweep across the aural plane of the dub techno of ‘diff, blockmix’ and ‘pow’ adding texture that brings vitality all-too-easily missed out when complex mathematical
processes become entwined with music creation. The high sensitivity to texture and rhythmic detail in Stadion Progg is multiplied further on Jean Redondo's remix - whose track, Hypersonic, was the backbone of 2023’s ‘yet’ compilation on Tresor.
The balance between technology and a sense of fun might also come from the maker; it’s not easy to overstate Schwarz’s passion for what is now his favourite way to make music, “it never gets boring. There’s always a moment of anticipation to see what actually emerges.” And the true “power of 2” comes into play when the resulting music can be fed back through the system again and again, potentiating the music in exponential ways.

»Even The Horizon Knows Its Bounds« explores sound’s relationship with architecture, inspired by the Naala Badu building at the Art Gallery of NSW. Created from sound prompts responded to by artists like Jim O’Rourke and claire rousay, the work reflects on space, collaboration, and the fluid nature of sonic environments.

I like to think that sound haunts architecture.

It’s one of the truly magical interactions afforded by sound’s immateriality. It’s also something that has captivated us from the earliest times. It’s not difficult to imagine the exhilaration of our early ancestors calling to one another in the dark cathedral like caves which held wonder, and security, for them.

Today the ways in which sound occupies space, the so-called liquid architecture, holds just as much wonder, albeit one that is often dominated by functionality and form. Beyond those constraints however, how sound operates in the material world is something that exists at the fundament of our understanding of music, and moreover within the broad church we know as the canon of sound arts.

Even The Horizon Knows Its Bounds is a record born out of these relations. In a direct sense, the record is the product of an invitation by curator Jonathan Wilson to create a sound environment, reflecting on the Naala Badu building at the Art Gallery Of NSW. The building’s name, which translates from the Gadigal language to ‘seeing water’, was opened in 2022 and this piece was offered as an atmospheric tint to visitors walking through the building throughout the year following its opening.

It’s also a record born out of a recognition for the porousness sound affords, especially as a device for collaborative endeavour. This composition is one born out of generosity and acoustic solidarity. Even The Horizon Knows Its Bounds is comprised not just of my sounds, but also that of an incredible array of artists who have also operated in the orbit of the Art Gallery Of NSW. The players include Amby Downs, Chris Abrahams, Chuck Johnson, Claire Rousay, Dean Hurley, Jim O’Rourke, JW Paton, Madeleine Cocolas, Norman Westberg, Stephen Vitiello and Vanessa Tomlinson.

The piece was constructed around two long form sound prompts that each musician responded and contributed to. These materials there when digested into the final piece you hear. The work could not exist without the substantial offerings these artists made, and I am immensely grateful to each of them.

I’ll finish with a little note that appears on the LP itself.

Place is an evolving, subjective experience of space. Spaces hold the opportunity for place, which we create moment to moment, shaped by our ways of sense-making.

Whilst the architectural and material features of space might remain somewhat constant, the people, objects, atmospheres, and encounters that fill them are forever collapsing into memory.

Lawrence English
Performed by Amby Downs, Chris Abrahams, Chuck Johnson, Claire Rousay, Dean Hurley, Jim O’Rourke, JW Paton, Madeleine Cocolas, Norman Westberg, Stephen Vitiello, Vanessa Tomlinson

Bon Iver's debut full-length For Emma, Forever Ago has been making major waves in critics circles based on the strength of an early artist-pressed advance cd and a couple awe-inspiring sets at CMJ in October 2007. The New York Times called it "irresistible" and Pitchfork stamped its early review of the album with a Recommended tag. For those of you hiding away in a cabin of your own, it's time that you hear the story, and more importantly, the music. Bon Iver (pronounced: bohn eevair; French for "good winter" and spelled wrong on purpose) is a greeting, a celebration and a sentiment. It is a new statement of an artist moving on and establishing the groundwork for a lasting career. For Emma, Forever Ago is the debut of this lineage of songs. As a whole, the record is entirely cohesive throughout and remains centered around a particular aesthetic, prompted by the time and place for which it was recorded. Justin Vernon, the primary force behind Bon Iver, seems to have tested his boundaries to the maximum, and in doing so has managed to break free from any pre-cursing or finished forms. It wasn't planned. The goal was to hibernate. Vernon moved to a remote cabin in the woods of Northwestern Wisconsin at the onset of winter. He lived there alone for three months, filling his days with wood splitting and other chores around the land. This solitary time slowly began feeding a bold, uninhibited new musical focus. The days slowly evolved into nights filled with twelve-hour recording blocks, breaking only for trips on the tractor into the pines to saw and haul firewood, or for frozen sunrises high up a deer stand. All of his personal trouble, lack of perspective, heartache, longing, love, loss and guilt that had been stock piled over the course of the past six years, was suddenly purged into the form of song.

Sunset edition - 300 copies

Driving is Sam Wilkes’ Indie Rock record. Iit is the first release on Wilkes Records, an imprint borne of the artist’s emergent need to self-release. The songs presented here exist comfortably within the ever-expanding Wilkesian cosmos, characterized as they are by virtuosity, torqued experimentalism, and collaboration with a range of talented musicians. But Driving’s influences, its sincerity, and its allegiance to a certain pop sensibility reflects a departure for an artist who has primarily staked his claim within the experimental jazz idiom.

Take the first track, “Folk Home,” which inaugurates the album’s fecundity—a bright, green, humid, summer feel. A swirling, freakout coda of reversed vocals gives way, in no short order, to a caterwaul of flute work that conjures Van Morrison’s (in)famous Astral Weeks sessions. Standing beside Morrison, the usual suspects are all present, if somewhat abstractedly. Dylan, The Dead, Joni, the Fab Four. Wilkes has developed a reputation as an experimental jazz luminary, but his deep affinity for the pop/rock/folk idiom of the latter twentieth century rings clear throughout Driving. More so than any Wilkes release to date, Driving is a collection guided by and dedicated to the man’s attention to songcraft.

Written and recorded during a period of rain-damage induced renter’s itinerance (and the attendant desire to produce a kind of therapeutic, self-soothing, home-feeling music), Driving loosely charts the trajectory/experience of “a protagonist,” both Wilkes and not, “who has figured out how to live an enlightened and fulfilled life, but is unable to do so because he thinks about it too much.” This friction is surely relatable — a symptom of our compulsively self-aware present. But Wilkes avoids the obvious pitfalls of public hand-wringing. Rather, Driving’s nine tracks evince a genuine, and mature searching-ness, both sonically and lyrically. The ending refrain of “Own” serves like something close to a thesis— “Letting go // isn’t a concept // it’s an action.” In an attempt to beat back ego, hyper-cogitation, language itself, Wilkes arrives at an axiom that feels so true and familiar, you’d swear you’d heard it one hundred times before.

Driving’s final third is, fittingly, its most emotive and cathartic. Tracks seven and eight, “Again, Again” and “And Again,” form a diptych, joined most obviously by the jangling, recursive grooves of guitarist Daryl Johns. Wilkes is said to have encouraged Johns to go “full Lindsey Buckingham” (clearly a welcome and resonant prompt), but one also catches stray Knopfler vibes, some intermittent Fripp, and (perhaps more-so in tone than technique) the spirit of DIY prophet and jangling man himself, Martin Newell (the Cleaners from Venus). Wilkes has stated that he finds joy in creating musical environments suitable to the contribution and flourishing of his favorite musicians. Throughout Driving, and in these two tracks especially, he has more than succeeded.

The record closes with the titular track: a story-song that, according to Wilkes, poured out of him (melody, composition, and lyrics) in a single sitting. The tale is told plainly, bravely, starkly; a mistake was made, regrets have been had, and all is wrapped up in the recollection of a deeply felt adolescent heartsickness—a time when the narrator was first afire with music and automotive freedom. The song captures the moment when meaning inexplicably falls into place, when a long-nagging memory suddenly assumes narrative form, and the subsequent sense of lightness and unburdening. It is fitting that Driving, a record conceived as a form of self-therapy, should culminate with a sense of humble revelation. That Wilkes is plainly eager to share the vulnerable fruits of this labor constitutes Driving’s joyful offering.

Words by Emmett Shoemaker

An imperial phase Actress commits a lushly amorphous installation piece made for the Berliner Festspiele to vinyl, rendering a post-industrial symphony full of iridescent shifts in gyring, OOBE-like spatial coordinates landing somewhere between nutopian ambient, kankyō ongaku and sawn-off bass science.

‘Grey Interiors’ was made in collaboration with Actual Objects and is an absorbing animation and navigation of those post-human ideals that have prompted Darren J. Cunningham to his best work across the preceding two decades. In its hypnagogic symphony of the elements, he short-circuits distinctions of classical music’s metric freedoms and the hyperspatial sensuality of concrète/electro-acoustic and ambient musics with an artistic license that has come to distinguish his work in the contemporary field, and arguably identified him as this generation’s most vital electronic abstractionist.

The first half of the album is bewitchingly airless, materialised in a twinkling vacuum. Naturalistic environmental recordings and a half-heard piano swirl around nauseous airlock whooshes and eerie bass drones. It's all pulverised to a powdery, shimmering residue; if Actress's music is defined by its character and texture - that sweet spot between the bedroom and the soundsystem - then this one advances the narrative without losing its backbone. And like a lot of his best work, it comes into its own on the back of zonked eyelids, conjuring a play of shifting geometric patterns within its imaginary physics and nuanced narration of ephemeral melodic phrasing and vaporous textures.

At about the halfway point, that dissociated piano finds its groove, coalescing into a jerky drum machine rhythm popping like bubbles in the stifling atmosphere. We can draw some intersecting lines here thru electronic music lore - traces of vintage AE, Push Button Objects, UR - but Actress always leaves an indelible fingerprint on anything he touches. Even when he's rubbing against the gallery-industrial complex, he manages to fill a stagnant space with electricity and wit; look at the title itself: is it a reference to the "landscape beyond man" as the installation's press release might have us believe, or the institutions themselves?

There are very special records that achieve mythical status amongst collectors and vinyl diggers. THE SHARPEES GO ON AND LAUGH is top of that tree.

Welcome to the strange world of Nothern Soul…

The story began some years ago when legendary UK record dealer John Anderson discovered an acetate in Chicago with the record title GO ON AND LAUGH scrawled on it but no artist name.

He sold it to cutting edge Northern Soul DJ John Vincent who credited the track to THE JUST BROTHERS when playing out.

The acetate, by now popular amongst the Rare Soul cognoscenti, was traded back to John Anderson who passed it on to Mark Dobson, aka Butch. His DJ sets around the World made it an in-demand dance floor filler and a subject for many years of much conjecture as to the ID of the mystery artist who had recorded this masterpiece which was not just a one-off uber rarity but also the epitome of Nu-Northern Soul cool.

Fast forward to 2016 when USA record label Secret Stash gained access to 200 plus master tapes recorded in the 1960’s by the Windy City’s ONE-DER-FUL set up.

They were forwarded to UK Soul entrepreneur Mark Bicknell who to his amazement found GO ON AND LAUGH in the haul. And finally the whodunit mystery was over with the artist identified as THE SHARPEES, who far from being obscure unknowns aee fondly well known in Soul circles for their much loved DO THE 45 and TIRED OF BEING LONELY singles. Secret Stash promptly issued GO ON AND LAUGH in America but demand far outstripped simply and it quickly sold out with copies now fetching northwards of £150.

ANORAX - living up to its #eatsleepcollect mantra - have snapped up the rights and are delighted to issue it as a 500 run limited edition 7”.

GO ON AND LAUGH is coupled with the timeless classic TIRED OF BEING LONELY. It follows the release by ANORAX of gems from DRIZABONE, JAY. J Feat. BIG BROOKLYN RED and DON CARLOS

The next release from 29 Speedway is Break, the new EP from NY’s Relaxer, the long running alias of Daniel Martin-McCormick (Black Eyes, Ital and co-founder of Dripping), and it signals a decisive shift in his music. The tape features two remixes by the singular DJ Marcelle.

What happens when dubby drum & bass meets Dischord’s post-punk colossus Black Eyes? “Break” is the new EP from NY’s Relaxer, the long running alias of Daniel Martin-McCormick (Black Eyes, Ital and co-founder of Dripping), and it signals a decisive shift in his music.

Prompted by friends to write a drum & bass live set just as Black Eyes was reuniting, the results didn’t quite fit the d&b genre. But it felt right. Quick, nimble, with room for the ferocity of his favorite post punk and some of the spaciousness of dub. Evergreen vibes, really, but seen from a fresh perspective.

Honed over a period of two years, the five tracks on “Break” fuse Relaxer’s careening, technoid sounds with free jazz-tinted drum programming, snarling sound design and spacious echo trails. It’s a perfect fit for 29 Speedway’s future-facing, exploratory anti-genre approach to electronics. The tape features two remixes by the singular DJ Marcelle and mastering by Dubplates & Mastering.

As Jess Sylvester finished his Hardly Art debut as Marinero in the fall of 2020, he realized it was time for a change. Sylvester grew up in Marin County, on the doorstep of San Francisco. It was a nurturing community for a high-school punk with a pompadour and, later, for a sober songwriter with a proclivity for moody psychedelia. But he wanted to be challenged and inspired by a new setting and scenario around strangers who prompted him to approach his music in unexpected ways. So in September 2020, as the world continued to reel in lockdown, Sylvester headed several hours south to Los Angeles, a city that, despite the relative proximity, the film buff knew largely from classic and cult films situated there. When he arrived, he kept digging into that cinematic past-Robert Altman's The Long Goodbye, with John Williams' classic theme, or classic 90s movies about East LA, many featuring Edward James Olmos. They shaped his understanding of his new town just as it began to open. This is one pillar of the multivalent and endlessly lush La La La, Marinero's new album about sobriety, identity, and fantasy that is playfully named both for the city that helped shape it and the sophisticated pop it contains. Sylvester wrote about characters outside of himself, whether considering the heroine reckoning with her own version of keeping clean or the screenwriters whose work was deemed communist simply as a political convenience. He linked those songs with motivational anthems about self-acceptance and playful numbers about flirting through food, shaping a 12-song set rich with humor, empathy, and encouragement. Sure, La La La is a continuation of the slippery genre play Sylvester started with 2021's Hella Love, 2019's Trópico de Cáncer, or even before that. But it also feels like a fresh beginning for Marinero, as Sylvester realizes how boundless this project can be. He began to think about the music of his childhood, how his mother is from San Francisco with Mexican roots, and how he'd heard so much salsa growing up as an impetuous teenager. So he wrote "Taquero," a red-hot salsa tune that uses tacos and their trappings as a source of endless metaphors for come-ons. And then there was the Ray Barreto or Santana-inspired "Pocha Pachanga," with organ gliding and percussion pulsing beneath his yearning vocals, warped as if by desert winds. In Los Angeles, he found a wealth of players who spoke this music like language itself (including Chicano Batman's Eduardo Arenas), all ready to play with and push these familiar forms. Sylvester has also been sober for 21 years, since a cross-country sojourn to attend college in Boston ended in a chemical haze. Today, he sees friends facing the same decisions he made two decades ago, and he brings bits of that experience to bear in songs that feel like self-help anthems. Recorded with a musical hero (and labelmate) of his, Chris Cohen, "Sea Changes" feels like sunshine breaking through dark clouds, as Sylvester acknowledges the newfound confidence and clarity in a friend who has stepped away from destructive habits. In the past, Sylvester has been intractably linked to his identity as a Mexican-American, born to parents from Mexico and Irish- American descent who settled in San Francisco. That can be limiting, of course, tying him to notions of sound and style that aren't always correct. On La La La, he simultaneously steps into and out of those preconceptions, singing tracks above salsa in joyous Spanish or pondering the dynamics of the Hollywood Ten and blacklists above mysterious lap steel and teasing trumpet. His identity, then, should now be clear: He is a Californian, making music shaped by the diversity of encounters and experiences that are a central part of that state's fabric. Never before has he presented himself so fully and unabashedly on tape as with La La La, an album Sylvester built with new inspirations to deliver new charms.

For roundabout a decade now, The Lavender Flu has been pumping their inimitable, underground group-sound way past all manner of lesser modern muck, moving only and always as their varied inspirations prompt them. As players, Chris Gunn, Ben Spencer, and Scott Simmons remain open to where any given moment might take them, which has resulted in thrilling experiences both live and on record at every turn. Tracing The Sand By The Pool, their latest album for In The Red, finds The Flu firing at their most crisp and direct, a full-band collection of meander-free hits triumphantly captured to tape by the lads themselves. Moments will tug, others will stun, but there can be no doubt this new communiqué is their mightiest. The record unfolds from “Within,” born out of a Kiwi brightness that is methodically guided through a series of near-crashes and sly, inward moves, spotlighting the key pillars of the band’s songcraft and tailored to convert the uninitiated. Gunn’s guitar work continues to fascinate and marvel, boasting too many moments of both melodic sweetness and violent shattering to detail here. Their cover of the hangmen’s “I’m Gonna Love You” capably inverts Suicide’s menace to a hopeful, romantic sheen. Of critical note are a pair of guest contributions from The Spatulas’ Miranda Soileau-Pratt, who lends vocals to multiple songs including the deceptive 80s dosed pop of “Snail On The Map”, and The Tube Alloys’ Shelby Jacobson, who takes lead on a cosmos-injected cover of Fleetwood Mac’s “That’s Alright,” as well as “Patron Eyes (Cocoon 2069),” the most vicious, smashingly punk moment the band has unleashed to date. From the jump to its final rest, the album is boundless and full of gifts.

+ REPRESS OF THE LONG OUT OF PRINT DEBUT ALBUM BY THE COATHANGERS + LIMITED EDITION FOURTH LP PRESSING ON NEON BUTTERFLY VINYL + REMASTERED WITH TWO BONUS TRACKS + EXPANDED ARTWORK BY BRADFORD COX (DEERHUNTER, ATLAS SOUND) + HOUSED IN A GATEFOLD JACKET + DL COUPON // Eighteen years ago, four young Atlanta women picked up instruments without any prior musical experience or lofty aspirations and decided that they were going to start a band so that they could play a friend's party. The house-show begat more shows around town, and the feisty and fiery live sets begat an album. Recorded during a single graveyard shift at a local studio and mixed the following night, the self-titled debut album by The Coathangers was a raw, rowdy, and revelrous affair. What it lacked in polish it made up for in its undeniable energy and charisma. "We didn't think anyone was going to listen to it," says vocalist/guitarist Julia Kugel. "We knew our friends in Atlanta would get it, but we didn't think it was going to go anywhere. We were just excited to make a record." Little did Kugel or her bandmates_vocalist/drummer Stephanie Luke, bassist/vocalist Meredith Franco, and keyboardist Candice Jones_know that their scrappy house show-anthems would catch on, prompting years of international tours, a slew of excellent LPs and singles, and, eventually, a deluxe version of their boisterous debut, The Coathangers. The eponymous debut album by The Coathangers is a whirlwind ride of a band at the most frenzied, celebratory, and free moment of their existence. As a standalone record, it's a brash and bawdy rocker sure to please anyone who likes their rock n' roll sweaty and messy. As a piece in the band's legacy, it's an exhilarating reminder of the band's youthful care-free beginnings. The deluxe remastered version of The Coathangers includes the bonus tracks "Wife Eyes" from the Hard Candy EP and the title track from the Never Wanted You EP. The Coathangers on vinyl features expanded artwork by Bradford Cox (Deerhunter, Atlas Sound) in a gatefold jacket.

The Fluid are arguably the great unsung band from the fertile underground rock scene of the late '80s and early '90s. The Denver five-piece - John Robinson (vocals), James Clower (guitar), Matt Bischoff (bass), Garrett Shavlik (drums), and the dear departed Ricky Kulwicki (guitar) - fused the fire of '80s hardcore with crunching Detroit protopunk, '60s garage rock, and '70s rock swagger. Think MC5, Faces, '70s Stones, all cranked up and really high on Sex Pistols and Black Flag singles. Rising from the ashes of early-'80s Denver bands Frantix (whose "My Dad's a Fuckin' Alcoholic" is a true gem of American punk) and White Trash, The Fluid were the first non-Seattle band to sign to Sub Pop, and Clear Black Paper was the second full-length album the label ever released. The label honchos were fans of Frantix, and happily got involved with The Fluid when the opportunity arose via the label's European licensing partner, Glitterhouse. Witnessing The Fluid's dominant live presence helped - a particularly fiery early show at Seattle's Central Tavern featured The Fluid, Mudhoney, Mother Love Bone, and Soundgarden all trying to outdo one another on stage. The band fit right in on Sub Pop's nascent roster of acts who, wherever they stood on the spectrum of punk/rock/metal, shared a commitment to thunderous riffs and explosive live shows. Legendary for their ferocious stage presence, The Fluid toured all over the US and Europe, holding their own and then some on bills with Mudhoney, Nirvana, Soundgarden, Dinosaur Jr., and other powerhouses of the era. From 1986 to 1993, The Fluid put out four albums and a number of EPs and singles, including a split 7" with Nirvana in 1991, before doing one album for a major label and promptly disbanding. Yet, while their partners-in-crime bulldozed into the mainstream, The Fluid remained something of a cult band, their audience confined to those who got hip during the band's existence, and crate diggers who nabbed original vinyl or CDs, which had quickly become rarities after selling through their original runs. Why? Record industry machinations? The fickle finger of pop culture? Being from Denver, not Seattle? Who the hell knows_ and who cares! The point is the band ripped, and the world deserves to hear them again. The Fluid took influences they shared with their contemporaries and ran in their own direction, focused on ass-shaking grooves more than misanthropic sludge. Rock anthems like "Cold Outside" sit alongside Stooge-oid rhythmic poundings ("Black Glove"), bluesy romps ("Leave It"), the occasional grungy dirge ("Wasted Time"), and raw punk bangers ("Is It Day I'm Seeing?" from the seminal 1988 Sub Pop 200 compilation). The band wasn't shy about their inspiration, either: scattered through their catalog are covers of The Troggs, The Rolling Stones, MC5, Iggy Pop and James Williamson, and Rare Earth. The Fluid stand out as champions of a feral, urgent, exuberant approach to rock 'n roll. As it turns out, that wasn't a recipe for stardom in the era of hyper-slick pop, boomer dinosaurs crying tears in heaven, and hair-metal power-ballads. But someone had to do it. To set things right, Sub Pop, The Fluid, and producer Jack Endino (Nirvana, Soundgarden, High on Fire, Mudhoney) teamed up to refresh and reissue The Fluid's entire indie-label catalog: their 1986 debut, Punch N Judy; 1988's Clear Black Paper; 1989's Roadmouth; the 1990 Glue EP (produced by Butch Vig, of Nevermind fame); and a treasure trove of rarities and previously unreleased material. All the music has been remastered from original tapes by Endino and JJ Golden, and the bulk of it has been meticulously remixed by Endino and the band, righting some sonic quirks that diminished the impact of the original records. Now, with their definitive material sounding better than ever, it's high time The Fluid get their due.

The Fluid are arguably the great unsung band from the fertile underground rock scene of the late '80s and early '90s. The Denver five-piece - John Robinson (vocals), James Clower (guitar), Matt Bischoff (bass), Garrett Shavlik (drums), and the dear departed Ricky Kulwicki (guitar) - fused the fire of '80s hardcore with crunching Detroit protopunk, '60s garage rock, and '70s rock swagger. Think MC5, Faces, '70s Stones, all cranked up and really high on Sex Pistols and Black Flag singles. Rising from the ashes of early-'80s Denver bands Frantix (whose "My Dad's a Fuckin' Alcoholic" is a true gem of American punk) and White Trash, The Fluid were the first non-Seattle band to sign to Sub Pop, and Clear Black Paper was the second full-length album the label ever released. The label honchos were fans of Frantix, and happily got involved with The Fluid when the opportunity arose via the label's European licensing partner, Glitterhouse. Witnessing The Fluid's dominant live presence helped - a particularly fiery early show at Seattle's Central Tavern featured The Fluid, Mudhoney, Mother Love Bone, and Soundgarden all trying to outdo one another on stage. The band fit right in on Sub Pop's nascent roster of acts who, wherever they stood on the spectrum of punk/rock/metal, shared a commitment to thunderous riffs and explosive live shows. Legendary for their ferocious stage presence, The Fluid toured all over the US and Europe, holding their own and then some on bills with Mudhoney, Nirvana, Soundgarden, Dinosaur Jr., and other powerhouses of the era. From 1986 to 1993, The Fluid put out four albums and a number of EPs and singles, including a split 7" with Nirvana in 1991, before doing one album for a major label and promptly disbanding. Yet, while their partners-in-crime bulldozed into the mainstream, The Fluid remained something of a cult band, their audience confined to those who got hip during the band's existence, and crate diggers who nabbed original vinyl or CDs, which had quickly become rarities after selling through their original runs. Why? Record industry machinations? The fickle finger of pop culture? Being from Denver, not Seattle? Who the hell knows_ and who cares! The point is the band ripped, and the world deserves to hear them again. The Fluid took influences they shared with their contemporaries and ran in their own direction, focused on ass-shaking grooves more than misanthropic sludge. Rock anthems like "Cold Outside" sit alongside Stooge-oid rhythmic poundings ("Black Glove"), bluesy romps ("Leave It"), the occasional grungy dirge ("Wasted Time"), and raw punk bangers ("Is It Day I'm Seeing?" from the seminal 1988 Sub Pop 200 compilation). The band wasn't shy about their inspiration, either: scattered through their catalog are covers of The Troggs, The Rolling Stones, MC5, Iggy Pop and James Williamson, and Rare Earth. The Fluid stand out as champions of a feral, urgent, exuberant approach to rock 'n roll. As it turns out, that wasn't a recipe for stardom in the era of hyper-slick pop, boomer dinosaurs crying tears in heaven, and hair-metal power-ballads. But someone had to do it. To set things right, Sub Pop, The Fluid, and producer Jack Endino (Nirvana, Soundgarden, High on Fire, Mudhoney) teamed up to refresh and reissue The Fluid's entire indie-label catalog: their 1986 debut, Punch N Judy; 1988's Clear Black Paper; 1989's Roadmouth; the 1990 Glue EP (produced by Butch Vig, of Nevermind fame); and a treasure trove of rarities and previously unreleased material. All the music has been remastered from original tapes by Endino and JJ Golden, and the bulk of it has been meticulously remixed by Endino and the band, righting some sonic quirks that diminished the impact of the original records. Now, with their definitive material sounding better than ever, it's high time The Fluid get their due.

The Fluid are arguably the great unsung band from the fertile underground rock scene of the late '80s and early '90s. The Denver five-piece - John Robinson (vocals), James Clower (guitar), Matt Bischoff (bass), Garrett Shavlik (drums), and the dear departed Ricky Kulwicki (guitar) - fused the fire of '80s hardcore with crunching Detroit protopunk, '60s garage rock, and '70s rock swagger. Think MC5, Faces, '70s Stones, all cranked up and really high on Sex Pistols and Black Flag singles. Rising from the ashes of early-'80s Denver bands Frantix (whose "My Dad's a Fuckin' Alcoholic" is a true gem of American punk) and White Trash, The Fluid were the first non-Seattle band to sign to Sub Pop, and Clear Black Paper was the second full-length album the label ever released. The label honchos were fans of Frantix, and happily got involved with The Fluid when the opportunity arose via the label's European licensing partner, Glitterhouse. Witnessing The Fluid's dominant live presence helped - a particularly fiery early show at Seattle's Central Tavern featured The Fluid, Mudhoney, Mother Love Bone, and Soundgarden all trying to outdo one another on stage. The band fit right in on Sub Pop's nascent roster of acts who, wherever they stood on the spectrum of punk/rock/metal, shared a commitment to thunderous riffs and explosive live shows. Legendary for their ferocious stage presence, The Fluid toured all over the US and Europe, holding their own and then some on bills with Mudhoney, Nirvana, Soundgarden, Dinosaur Jr., and other powerhouses of the era. From 1986 to 1993, The Fluid put out four albums and a number of EPs and singles, including a split 7" with Nirvana in 1991, before doing one album for a major label and promptly disbanding. Yet, while their partners-in-crime bulldozed into the mainstream, The Fluid remained something of a cult band, their audience confined to those who got hip during the band's existence, and crate diggers who nabbed original vinyl or CDs, which had quickly become rarities after selling through their original runs. Why? Record industry machinations? The fickle finger of pop culture? Being from Denver, not Seattle? Who the hell knows_ and who cares! The point is the band ripped, and the world deserves to hear them again. The Fluid took influences they shared with their contemporaries and ran in their own direction, focused on ass-shaking grooves more than misanthropic sludge. Rock anthems like "Cold Outside" sit alongside Stooge-oid rhythmic poundings ("Black Glove"), bluesy romps ("Leave It"), the occasional grungy dirge ("Wasted Time"), and raw punk bangers ("Is It Day I'm Seeing?" from the seminal 1988 Sub Pop 200 compilation). The band wasn't shy about their inspiration, either: scattered through their catalog are covers of The Troggs, The Rolling Stones, MC5, Iggy Pop and James Williamson, and Rare Earth. The Fluid stand out as champions of a feral, urgent, exuberant approach to rock 'n roll. As it turns out, that wasn't a recipe for stardom in the era of hyper-slick pop, boomer dinosaurs crying tears in heaven, and hair-metal power-ballads. But someone had to do it. To set things right, Sub Pop, The Fluid, and producer Jack Endino (Nirvana, Soundgarden, High on Fire, Mudhoney) teamed up to refresh and reissue The Fluid's entire indie-label catalog: their 1986 debut, Punch N Judy; 1988's Clear Black Paper; 1989's Roadmouth; the 1990 Glue EP (produced by Butch Vig, of Nevermind fame); and a treasure trove of rarities and previously unreleased material. All the music has been remastered from original tapes by Endino and JJ Golden, and the bulk of it has been meticulously remixed by Endino and the band, righting some sonic quirks that diminished the impact of the original records. Now, with their definitive material sounding better than ever, it's high time The Fluid get their due.

The Fluid are arguably the great unsung band from the fertile underground rock scene of the late '80s and early '90s. The Denver five-piece - John Robinson (vocals), James Clower (guitar), Matt Bischoff (bass), Garrett Shavlik (drums), and the dear departed Ricky Kulwicki (guitar) - fused the fire of '80s hardcore with crunching Detroit protopunk, '60s garage rock, and '70s rock swagger. Think MC5, Faces, '70s Stones, all cranked up and really high on Sex Pistols and Black Flag singles. Rising from the ashes of early-'80s Denver bands Frantix (whose "My Dad's a Fuckin' Alcoholic" is a true gem of American punk) and White Trash, The Fluid were the first non-Seattle band to sign to Sub Pop, and Clear Black Paper was the second full-length album the label ever released. The label honchos were fans of Frantix, and happily got involved with The Fluid when the opportunity arose via the label's European licensing partner, Glitterhouse. Witnessing The Fluid's dominant live presence helped - a particularly fiery early show at Seattle's Central Tavern featured The Fluid, Mudhoney, Mother Love Bone, and Soundgarden all trying to outdo one another on stage. The band fit right in on Sub Pop's nascent roster of acts who, wherever they stood on the spectrum of punk/rock/metal, shared a commitment to thunderous riffs and explosive live shows. Legendary for their ferocious stage presence, The Fluid toured all over the US and Europe, holding their own and then some on bills with Mudhoney, Nirvana, Soundgarden, Dinosaur Jr., and other powerhouses of the era. From 1986 to 1993, The Fluid put out four albums and a number of EPs and singles, including a split 7" with Nirvana in 1991, before doing one album for a major label and promptly disbanding. Yet, while their partners-in-crime bulldozed into the mainstream, The Fluid remained something of a cult band, their audience confined to those who got hip during the band's existence, and crate diggers who nabbed original vinyl or CDs, which had quickly become rarities after selling through their original runs. Why? Record industry machinations? The fickle finger of pop culture? Being from Denver, not Seattle? Who the hell knows_ and who cares! The point is the band ripped, and the world deserves to hear them again. The Fluid took influences they shared with their contemporaries and ran in their own direction, focused on ass-shaking grooves more than misanthropic sludge. Rock anthems like "Cold Outside" sit alongside Stooge-oid rhythmic poundings ("Black Glove"), bluesy romps ("Leave It"), the occasional grungy dirge ("Wasted Time"), and raw punk bangers ("Is It Day I'm Seeing?" from the seminal 1988 Sub Pop 200 compilation). The band wasn't shy about their inspiration, either: scattered through their catalog are covers of The Troggs, The Rolling Stones, MC5, Iggy Pop and James Williamson, and Rare Earth. The Fluid stand out as champions of a feral, urgent, exuberant approach to rock 'n roll. As it turns out, that wasn't a recipe for stardom in the era of hyper-slick pop, boomer dinosaurs crying tears in heaven, and hair-metal power-ballads. But someone had to do it. To set things right, Sub Pop, The Fluid, and producer Jack Endino (Nirvana, Soundgarden, High on Fire, Mudhoney) teamed up to refresh and reissue The Fluid's entire indie-label catalog: their 1986 debut, Punch N Judy; 1988's Clear Black Paper; 1989's Roadmouth; the 1990 Glue EP (produced by Butch Vig, of Nevermind fame); and a treasure trove of rarities and previously unreleased material. All the music has been remastered from original tapes by Endino and JJ Golden, and the bulk of it has been meticulously remixed by Endino and the band, righting some sonic quirks that diminished the impact of the original records. Now, with their definitive material sounding better than ever, it's high time The Fluid get their due.

Obscure & outstanding free jazz album reissued for the first time since it’s original release in 1969. Old-style gatefold sleeve LP, with liner notes by Ed Hazell.

In the late 1960s, young jazz musician Bobby Naughton, a keyboardist and vibraphonist, faced significant challenges as he sought to record his first album. With major record labels and jazz clubs catering only to big names, Naughton and other creative musicians of his generation found themselves sidelined by the mainstream music industry. They turned to self-reliance and self-production, becoming part of a movement of independent musicians. Naughton’s debut album, Nature’s Consort, was a DIY effort in every sense—recorded on home equipment and featuring a hand-printed woodblock cover. The album was distributed independently at concerts and by mail, receiving little attention initially, but over the years it gained a reputation as a rare, sought-after artifact of the period.

Though recorded during an outdoor concert in Connecticut, Nature's Consort reflected the "loft jazz" scene in New York City. This avant-garde jazz movement centered around musicians who lived and played in loft spaces in lower Manhattan. Naughton commuted from his home in Southbury, Connecticut, to play with his bandmates Mark Whitecage, Mario Pavone, and Laurence Cook in New York's lofts. These musicians regularly performed at venues like Studio We, a key gathering spot for free-form jazz, where musicians could experiment and develop their sound, often with no audience present.

Naughton’s journey into jazz was a winding one. Originally from Boston, he played rockabilly and blues-rock before transitioning into free jazz. Inspired by avant-garde artists like Carla Bley and Paul Bley, Naughton sought to explore new forms of music that went beyond traditional jazz structures. His bandmates, Mark Whitecage and Mario Pavone, were both deeply affected by the death of John Coltrane in 1967, which prompted them to quit their day jobs, attend Coltrane’s funeral, and move to New York to pursue jazz full-time.

Nature’s Consort was a collective project, with band members sharing equally in any profits. However, Naughton was the driving force behind the group’s creative direction. He composed much of the original material and selected pieces by Ornette Coleman and Carla Bley for the band’s repertoire. Jazz critic Nat Hentoff praised the album for its “high-risk improvisation” and the musicians' ability to anticipate each other’s moves. Though Nature’s Consort received little press at the time, it has since been recognized as a significant early document of the loft jazz era, representing Naughton’s disciplined, improvisational approach to music.

* Evergreen digital roots `n’ dub from The Disciples with vocals from the late great Jamaican singer Creation Stepper aka Willy Stepper, whose voice graced many a 70’s roots reggae classic.

* This cut is a relick of Stepper’s 1978 classic `Kill Nebuchadnezzar’ backed with another vocal cut - `Ozone Layer’ with two dub cuts.

* Mixed and produced by Russ D in the Disciples studio in 1991 but only getting a release in 2011 on the Disciples Vintage label, which promptly sold out.

Ron Henderson is the North Carolina-based singer-songwriter who, along with his group Choice of Colour, released their sole album Soul Junction in 1976. This now mad rare record has fetched prices over $800 at auctions which prompted a 2020 reissue by P Vine which quickly sold out. Recently discovered, the 1983 hit single 'Gemini Lady' which was included as a bonus track on that reissue was an alternate take, not the original. Consequently, P-VINE decided to reissue the single in its authentic form. As such this formerly hard-to-find 7" single is reissued and replicates the original label design making it a must-cop.

Reissue des sechsten Toxpackers, original aus 2011, endlich wieder auf Vinyl! 2011 veröffentlichten TOXPACK zum 10 jährigen Bandjubiläum ihr Album "Bastarde von Morgen" und danach war nichts mehr wie zuvor für die Berliner: Das Album war Start- und Sprungbrett für den rasanten Erfolg der Band, die seitdem in den vordersten Rängen der Charts mit ihren Veröffentlichungen vertreten sind. Und Fans sind sich einig: "Bastarde von Morgen" ist ein Meilenstein gewesen und ihr wohl bestes Album! Ihr packender Trademark-Sound aus Punk, Hardcore, Rock`n`Roll und einem Hauch Metal, von der Band gerne als East Berlin Street Core (E.B.S.C.) umschrieben, entwickelte sich von Album zu Album weiter und hat ihnen eine zahlreiche und stetig wachsende Fangemeinde beschert. 13 mitreißende Songs, die sofort ins Ohr gehen - und in Refrains gipfeln, die durch die Bank stadiontauglich sind. Textlich schleichen sich Tiefgang und Reife in den als beherzt zupackend bekannten Themenkreis der Band ein. Die bewährte Tradition, befreundete Musiker als Gastsänger ins Studio zu holen, wird mit Roi Pearce von The Last Resort (Heute So, Morgen So) und Paul Shearer von Sheer Terror (E.B.S.C.) fortgesetzt. "Bastarde Von Morgen" wurde von Studiolegende Harris Johns (im House Of Music / Stuttgart und Musiclab / Berlin) produziert, aufgenommen gemischt und gemastert. Unterm Strich steht ein Monolith von einem Album, das von der Punk- über die Streetcore-Fraktion bis hin zu Metal- und Hardcore-Fans und den Freunden harten deutschsprachigen Rocks alle prompt dort abholt, wo sie gerade stehen. Und das ganz ohne einen einzigen Funken Beliebigkeit. Ein sicherer Streetpunk-Klassiker! Seit vielen Jahren auf Vinyl vergriffen veröffentlicht ihr damaliges Label "Sunny Bastards" jetzt eine Collector's Edition Neuauflage auf 180gr. Vinyl in zwei Farben jeweils limitiert auf nur 250 Stück!

Reissue des sechsten Toxpackers, original aus 2011, endlich wieder auf Vinyl! 2011 veröffentlichten TOXPACK zum 10 jährigen Bandjubiläum ihr Album "Bastarde von Morgen" und danach war nichts mehr wie zuvor für die Berliner: Das Album war Start- und Sprungbrett für den rasanten Erfolg der Band, die seitdem in den vordersten Rängen der Charts mit ihren Veröffentlichungen vertreten sind. Und Fans sind sich einig: "Bastarde von Morgen" ist ein Meilenstein gewesen und ihr wohl bestes Album! Ihr packender Trademark-Sound aus Punk, Hardcore, Rock`n`Roll und einem Hauch Metal, von der Band gerne als East Berlin Street Core (E.B.S.C.) umschrieben, entwickelte sich von Album zu Album weiter und hat ihnen eine zahlreiche und stetig wachsende Fangemeinde beschert. 13 mitreißende Songs, die sofort ins Ohr gehen - und in Refrains gipfeln, die durch die Bank stadiontauglich sind. Textlich schleichen sich Tiefgang und Reife in den als beherzt zupackend bekannten Themenkreis der Band ein. Die bewährte Tradition, befreundete Musiker als Gastsänger ins Studio zu holen, wird mit Roi Pearce von The Last Resort (Heute So, Morgen So) und Paul Shearer von Sheer Terror (E.B.S.C.) fortgesetzt. "Bastarde Von Morgen" wurde von Studiolegende Harris Johns (im House Of Music / Stuttgart und Musiclab / Berlin) produziert, aufgenommen gemischt und gemastert. Unterm Strich steht ein Monolith von einem Album, das von der Punk- über die Streetcore-Fraktion bis hin zu Metal- und Hardcore-Fans und den Freunden harten deutschsprachigen Rocks alle prompt dort abholt, wo sie gerade stehen. Und das ganz ohne einen einzigen Funken Beliebigkeit. Ein sicherer Streetpunk-Klassiker! Seit vielen Jahren auf Vinyl vergriffen veröffentlicht ihr damaliges Label "Sunny Bastards" jetzt eine Collector's Edition Neuauflage auf 180gr. Vinyl in zwei Farben jeweils limitiert auf nur 250 Stück!

As with most things, this project started with a conversation in the pub between me and Martin.

As we discussed what J-Walk and BiD could do next we chatted about our mutual love of DIY, Post Punk, Reggae, Digital & Dub, how about using that feel as an initial jump off on the next thing and see how you get on? I suggested.
As is his way Martin considered the suggestion, then promptly disappeared, 6 weeks later something landed in my inbox, it was titled Broken Beauty and the music contained embraced all those symbiotic ideals and culture.
Nailed it!
Recorded entirely in Stockport using a mixed kit bag of cheap forgotten keyboards, guitar, bass and effects pedals, this LP takes the J-Walk aesthetic and applies the wider palette of these influences to create something unique, those past and present influences forged together to bring you something truly DIY - instructions below.
How To Make Such A Thing...

Deactivate social media. Ignore the internet, don't answer text messages, avoid other music, the telly and other people. This is a process where it's only you in the room with whatever's in your mind. You will be there for some time and the loneliness can hurt a little.

Forget any predetermined ideas. Forget everything you've ever done before. This is an opportunity to start from scratch, but with years of accumulated knowledge and craftsmanship. Trust yourself.
Be scared. Be excited about not knowing what will happen and what will result.

Don't use midi sequencing, virtual instruments or samples. Just plug a toy instrument into an amp, press a rhythm and play around to see what happens. If it sounds good and fresh then record it. Plug a bass in to jam around and you'll soon hear and feel what sits in the pocket of the beat. Record it as it is. Dirty is real and good. Cleanliness equals sterility. Loop the bassline. Plug a guitar in and do the same.

Don't think when doing any of this. Just experiment with interest and curiosity and the music will take care of itself. You will now have a groove which is also about half a song minimum. Play some keys from the toys on top of what you have. Put 'em through effects pedals. Again, don't overthink it and don't try to get it clean. Add sound effects in right and random places.

There you go. Something you've never made before. But more importantly, it's something you've never heard before.

You don't have to die to be reincarnated.

BROKEN BEAUTY...You can't be either without also having been the other.

Recorded at the Studio Acousti, Paris, September 23, 1965.

Original LP issue: International Polydor Production – 46.871.

This self-titled album is a testimony of the short lived-band led by New-York drummer Ron Jefferson during his stay in Paris in the mid-60s. After a first album under his name on Pacific Jazz in 1962, the founding member of The Jazz Modes and the Les McCann trio made the trip overseas.

Here, he made his living by playing with the popular pianists Errol Parker or Hazel Scott but his main drive was this trio that he formed with two other US expats, bassist Roland Haynes (the same musician who recorded an album on Black Jazz as a pianist, as confirmed by Kirk Lightsey) and guitarist Buz Saviano. After a highly successful show at ‘Palais de Chaillot’ in 1965, they were invited for a series of concerts in Dakar Sénégal. On their return, Polydor International proposed them this session. You can hear the deep impact their stay in the Motherland had on their music on the stand-out track ‘Africa the Beautiful’. On pair with the best of Yusef Lateef’s afro-eastern explorations from the time, it showcases Ron on flute and Senegalese percussion. The album release nonetheless was a commercial failure that prompted the band’s separation and Ron’s return to New-York where he performed until his passing in 2007.

Only a few copies of this record ever made it to the shops at the time and very few have had the chance to listen to it before this legit reissue remastered from the original MONO master tapes.

– Antoine Rajon –

Ron Jefferson (Drums & Flute)
Buz Saviano (Guitar)
Roland Haynes (Bass)
Jackie Robinson (Vocal on The Speaker)