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“Where are you, my sunny feeling I knew as a kid?” This is the question that Origami Angel asks with their latest output, a sharp and shining 8-song mixtape called The Brightest Days. Its opening title track begins with one of many new tricks for the DC two-piece––a ukulele––but quickly turns left-field as childhood innocence makes way for blistering intensity and hopelessness. Told through the lens of a shitty east coast summer, The Brightest Days was written throughout the spring and summer of 2020, and later recorded in August 2022 with producer Drew Portalatin, with assistance from Jake Chekoway and vocalist/guitarist Ryland Heagy (he/him). Across the mixtape are some of the most creative and adventurous moves Gami has ever made. Not quite an EP or an LP, the differences between each track on The Brightest Days is what makes it such a special release, and thus garnering the ‘mixtape’ moniker; diving into specific tones and different vocal techniques on each track allowed Heagy and drummer Pat Doherty (he/him) to shine in ways they never have before. The Brightest Days may be few and far between—with that gap stretching further each day—but as a mixtape, it’s a cloudless collection of the most realized and strongest music that Origami Angel has written yet.

11th album by the one-of-a-kind collective: psychedelia and free form jazz (not jazz) trigger a sophisticated excursion into weird textures with drastic turns. Dislocated dense music full of secret connections!

Kammerflimmer Kollektief – "Schemen"

Before reason prevails, invoked by those who want everything to remain as it is, Kammerflimmer Kollektief disrupts the established supply chains of sound. It seeks more interesting ways to assemble them. Trusting in this, because of the fact that every sound that still comes out of a guitar, a bass, a harmonium, drums and electronic devices has already been taken into the common mangle of meaning anyway. Enough of all that. Here, nothing is explained. Here we speak in schemes. Polished and jerky.

The images that Kammerflimmer Kollektief conjures up therefore happen not in the focus of consciousness, but rather in its outer realms. In those to which one does not give one's full attention at the moment, but which are nevertheless perceived. For example, when a leaf falls from the ground back up to the tree in the corner of your eye, and for an instant you think this is possible, before you realize it was a small bird flying into the tree; it is in just such irritating moments between perception and realization that the art of the Kollektief also unfolds. On "Schemen", familiar fragments float gently around their core – a Fender Rhodes tone, a bass figure, a guitar motif, a masterful drum shuffle, a moment of icy stasis borrowed from the harmonium playing of Christa 'Nico' Päffgen. Triggering brief associations, they slowly rush off in other directions through free jazz-informed editing work, whereupon such zones can also arise in which perception has a few tricks ready and earlier experience suddenly breaks into the now in a completely different way. Half suspected, half seen.

Half-music like Can from Cologne – also masters of improvised editing – sometimes produced a few decades ago in their in-between moments. The first minutes of "Future Days" for example, which fade in gently, sketch a barely graspable figure emerging from all directions of the room. Kammerflimmer Kollektief also engages in similarly open moments of development. Loosely, it eludes the first formative impressions, keeping itself ready for moments that do not follow any logic of appointment. This looseness in handling makes Kammerflimmer Kollektief so fluidly audible, even when dissonant peaks and free playing arise. What Karlheinz Stockhausen is to Can's understanding of composition, the recordings of The Cocoon are to Kammerflimmer Kollektief. The Cocoon, a meeting of garage psychedelics from the Hannover area with free jazzers from the Galaxie Dream Band, whose album "While The Recording Engineer Sleeps", recorded in 1985 in unguarded moments, operates in a very similar way with decentralized perceptual ambivalences and only appeared more or less secretly four years later on Wilhelm Reich Schallspeicher. Other traces of "Schemen" lead to the debut album of Quicksilver Messenger Service. The guitars of Gary Duncan and John Cipollina, which refer to themselves in an unforced manner, are instructions to let go. They don't want to be traced in every note as a solo, but they give their music a sense that the essential takes place off center, in the mutual and intuitive gift of loving attentions. Consciousness-free.

Loving turns like the little guitar phrase that, like a kind of leitmotif, is repeatedly ghosting more or less unchanged through all of the Kammerflimmer Kollektief albums. A Coricidin induced, very catchy slide idea filtered out of ancient Æther, which – who knows – maybe even centuries ago found its way from somewhere to America – the old, the eerie – and from there wafted on through the ages to southern Germany, to a smoky studio in the Upper Rhine lowlands. A memory of which even the memory no longer knows what it once reminded. Unsaid, then forgotten.

In Kammerflimmer Kollektief you will also find a friend of slowly building, unhurried music, which probably would have been appreciated by the old Franz Mesmer, who 200 years ago, after tranquilizing treatments, sometimes used to play for his patients ambient melodies on the enormous glass harmonica. However, in order not to surrender completely to the flow of one's own life energy, as Mesmer had in mind with his therapies, Kammerflimmer Kollektief occasionally adds hectic tensions, gently embraced by the droning of a sine wave generator, as if a trance could briefly refesh. This old analog sine wave generator is new in the Kammerflimmer assortment of sounds. So, the art of the Kollektief likes to dock occasionally in modern times, yet with the past in mind. Mental states begin to flicker between imagination and certainty, between culture-bound art expression and coincidences: A cawing and scraping can always just be a cawing and scraping with Kammerflimmer Kollektief, the way Andy Warhol's mushroom eater just eats a mushroom.

Heike Aumüller's cover works, which illustrate all the Kammerflimmer Kollektief albums, additionally act as amplifiers of unexplained refractions. Her style consists of eye-corner art that remains so, even when looked at directly. Her shots remain disquieting because they do not jolt themselves into a reassuring order, even in retrospect. Rather than evading the fear that arises when looking at them by trying to impose some irrational rhyme or reason, that fear must simply be endured. This strategy of endurance is equally applicable to the music. The trick is to let parts be parts without compulsively seeking delusional patterns that lull us into a false sense of security and in doing so, possibly delude ourselves. In this context, freedom means not having to anxiously attach a fantasized superior meaning to everything. "Schemen" has an conspiracy disintegrating effect.


b A2 Zweites Kapitel (ruckartig) [feat. Heike Aumüller]

After Joao Selva, Dowdelin, The Bongo Hop, Underdog Records continue their exploration of the Black Atlantic with IREKE.Ecstatic brass, 70’s keyboards, elastic guitars, round bass and world percussion: from this sonic heritage, Ireke makes a unique fusion, enhanced by the audacious contribution of his dub science, and a few electronic touches

IREKE

Ireke? Sugar cane in Yoruba. Like her, the duo loves tropical climates and intoxicating rhythms, quick to liberate the bodies gathered on a dancefloor. Afrobeat urgency, funk suppleness, dub alchemy, highlife jubilation: with Tropikadelic, Ireke summons the heritage of the masters and the audacity of machines to give life to new sonic territories. At the crossroads. For the love of groove.

From the West, with their ears to the Black Atlantic, Julien Gervaix and Damien Tes- son are both children of the collective and of improvisation, playgrounds for these complete multi-instrumentalists.

The first one puts his talents of arranger-saxophonist at the service of the Nantes collective Soulshine and of numerous formations - in turn funk or rhythm’n blues - where swinging is the rule.This is notably the case of the afrobeat group Walko, in which Julien Gervaix had the honour of sharing the stage and the studio for several years with Kiala Nzavotunga, guitarist extraordinaire for Fela Kuti and Egypt 80. Meanwhile, Damien Tesson was being trained as a dubmaster-guitarist-arranger at the reggae roots school with the digital option of the Vendée collective Shi Fu Mi Temple.This initiation led Damien Tesson to join, among others, the Nantes-based group BIBA (Bingy Band) and then to collaborate with Jideh High Elements, a key figure on the international dub scene, Roberto Sanchez and the team of his Lone Ark Studio, as well as Sana Bob, a famous reggae singer from Burkina Faso.And then, life being well done, the paths of Julien Gervaix and Damien Tesson ended up crossing within the jazz-funk combo Playtime, before meeting again in the Vendée a few years later.

With an obvious tropism for Afro-Latin grooves, tropical colours, electronic tricks and furious swaying, the two musicians create Ireke like a glass of well arranged rum. Here’s to us, here’s to you! As if guided by the spirit of the plant, Ireke toasts the immense richness of these danceable rhythms, true generators of life, connection and energy.

Like Legba, the Yoruba orisha of intersections and crossroads, Ireke thrives in the between worlds.Aware of the lineage of goldsmiths who preceded them, Ireke

knows his classics and humbly draws inspiration for Tropikadelic from the musical genius of Pat Thomas, Poly-rythmo Orchestra, King Tubby,Tony Allen, Fela Kuti, Maître Gazonga, Ernesto Djédjé or the Vikings of Guadeloupe. Ecstatic brass, 70’s keyboards, elastic guitars, round bass and world percussion: from this sonic heritage, Ireke makes a unique fusion, enhanced by the audacious contribution of his dub science, and a few electronic touches patiently flushed out in the studio - which the duo considers as an instrument in its own right.

Finally, to give voice to his compositions, on Tropikadelic, Ireke calls upon an army of serious enthusiasts, each member of which has come up with his or her own lyrics. Thus, alongside Ireke, we find the groove griot Pat Kalla (“Femme qui Danse”,“Love Is Jokin”), the Franco-Laotian reggaeman Amatah Keo (“Man Bo Diak”), the Vendée- based Agnès Hélène (“Petit à Petit”,“Oh Ma Chérie”) and Charly Sanga (“Bas Les Masques”,“Oh Ma Chérie”), the Burkinabè lion Sana Bob (“Métissage”) as well as the Nantes soulman Jy Cooly (“Kinkeliba”).

For the duo, music is above all a collective practice, an active liberation, a rhythmic approach to letting go, a source of communicative joy... In short, groove is the weap- on! And Ireke knows how to use it.

Ground Groove, the third full-length release from the LA-based, Iranian-American producer and DJ, Maral, begins with an invocation: the sprawling, achingly heavy Feedback Jam opens the floodgates of history. Conventional (linear) spacetime collapses, crushed beneath the track’s lumbering 4/4 heartbeat and successive waves of distortion. As each wave recedes, samples trickle forward in the mix — seeking, perhaps, to fill the void. Voices and instruments rise and fall in uncanny reverse. Overlapping, implied melodies flicker into focus, then flit away. Feedback Jam is at once an initiation ritual, and a thesis statement for the record that follows.

Drawing upon a vast personal archive of Iranian folk, classical, and pop recordings (some sourced from mixtapes made by her parents in the eighties/nineties), Maral presents, on Ground Groove, a further refinement of the signature “folk club” sound she developed as a live DJ— a sound she would later codify on Mahur Club (2019) and Push (2020). By collecting, dissecting, and re/presenting sonic fragments from Iran, Maral practices a kind of dance-floor ethnomusicology. The subject of her inquiry: Iranian


culture and contexts, throughout history and in the present. But, crucially, this inquiry is instantiated within and throughout the body of the listener, whether this listener is dancing in the club, or riding the train, nodding along with headphones on.

Maral speaks of being in collaboration with her samples, treating each as a distinct bandmate, often consulting with an artist’s catalog (or even a single recording) as one would a trusted creative partner. In so-doing, Maral claims to seek to transcend the self. In this regard, her output neatly triangulates contemporary dance and heavy music with much of the traditional religious music that she samples. Broadly speaking, each of these idioms addresses a desire —shared by audience and performer alike—to transcend the self through volume, repetition, and movement.

Having, in her youth, studied the Setar under Nader Majd (the founder of Virginia’s Center for Persian Classical Music), Maral cycled through various genres (ex: punk, emo, dub) in her adolescence and early twenties, all the while expanding her knowledge of, and appreciation for, Iran’s diverse musical traditions during regular summer trips to Tehran. In college, Maral taught herself to make beats with a ripped copy of Ableton (which remains her DAW of choice), eventually transitioning to playing and hosting various club nights. Forever abiding by an autodidactic, DIY impulse to create art and foster community, Maral relocated to Los Angeles in 2013, where she quickly immersed herself in the city’s numerous overlapping music scenes.

Collaboration (beyond sampling) has proven an important component of her process, with notable spoken word contributions from the likes of Lee Scratch Perry and Penny Rimbaud, as well as a 2021 Panda Bear collab track (On Your Way), which the Animal Collective founder co-produced. Maral is equally attentive to the visual components of her records (album art, music videos, etc.), drawing upon the work of peers and friends for inspiration.

Indeed, the genesis of Ground Groove can be traced back to an audio-visual collaboration between Maral and the artist Brenna Murphy, originally commissioned for the 2021 Rewire Festival — a project that would eventually serve as the album’s foundation. Tracks eight through eleven on Ground Groove comprise Maral’s half of this installation, with tracks one through seven composed afterwards, inspired by the fruits of Maral and Murphy’s collaboration. Murphy’s visuals will be released alongside Ground Groove as a visual accompaniment. Additionally, Murphy designed the album’s art, directed the video for the lead single (the aforementioned Feedback Jam), and is featured on track six, Shy Night.

Composed largely on Ableton, Ground Groove features more frequent and more prominent live recordings from Maral (guitar, bass, and vocals) than either Push or Mahar Club. The cult favorite Roland MC-909 groovebox rears its head on Mari’s Groove. Mixed by Trayer Tryon (Hundred Waters) and mastered by Daddy Kev, the attention to sonic quality on Ground Groove constitutes another significant step in Maral’s development as a studio artist.

Ground Groove’s eleven tracks are “grooves” in the obvious sense, in that they are each driven by a persistent, propulsive rhythm, but the album’s title may just as well suggest the glacial passage of time—the scope of human history, in which individual voices, like streams, carve paths (impossibly) through earth and stone, winding their way to the vast sea of the present.

‘Change’ is the brand-new album by Anika, the first solo music from theBerlin based artist in 8 years.
A British ex-pat and former political journalist, Anika has collaborated withBEAK>and Tricky and released two albums with Mexico City’s Exploded.
View to great acclaim. The single ‘Change’ tackles personal growth as well as wider issues and grapples with eternal questions as to whether one can ever truly change.
It has been 11 years since the release of her last solo album, 2010 cultfavourite ‘Anika’; she suddenly found herself with a lot to say. “This album had been planned for a little while and the circumstances of its inception were quite different to what had been expected. This coloured the album quite significantly. The lyrics were all written there on the spot. It’s a vomit of emotions, anxieties, empowerment and of thoughts like - How can this go on? How can we go on?”
The intimacy of its creation and a palpable sense of global anxiety are
seemingly baked into the DNA of Change. Spread across nine tracks, the central feeling of the record is one of heightened frustration buoyed by guarded optimism. The songs offer skittering, austere electronic backdrops reminiscent of classic Broadcast records or ‘High Scores’-era Boards of Canada, playing them against Anika’s remarkable voice - Nico-esque, beautifully plaintive and - in regards to the record’s subject matter - totally resolute. Incantatory tracks like ‘Naysayer’ and ‘Never Coming Back’ are both a call to arms and a warning. “‘Never Coming Back’ was written after reading Rachel Carson’s ‘Silent Spring’,” she explains. “I was living in the old East countryside outside of Berlin, where there seemed to be no shortage of birds. Apparently their numbers have dropped significantly, but it is one of these changes that we never really stop and notice. We take things for granted, until it’s too late. With all this other noise
going on, care for the environment has quickly been moved to the backburner. So long as we get what we want NOW and on demand, who cares about whether we are taking care of the future?”

Ceremony Of Seasons drops its first two releases in quick succession and after Ross Gentry's inaugural ambient wine pairing, Brett Naucke now repeats the trick. He has written this lush ambient long player "to be paired with Conjured In Shadows, a Mendocino-grown, carbonic macerated Nouveau wine from the 2022 harvest." It is a superbly organic soundtrack with found sounds and plenty of evocative designs all bringing to mind a warm day outdoors on 'An Open Secret', celestial skies on 'A Glass Touch' and autumn melancholy on 'Private Life'. The flipside explores the rest of the season with icy melodies and candle-lit sounds that evoke hymnal solitude.

Originally released on Axis records! This story takes place around the year 3216, in which space travel is something completely contemporary. Humanity is going too far in pushing Mother Nature's boundaries, and now the planet is in danger. Only one person is capable of saving Earth from destruction. Our protagonist travels to other planets to see if there is anything that can aid him in calling the downfall of our home world to a halt. The fragments on this disc are actually snapshots, made in between traveling, amid the rushing realization that a resolution to save the planet must be found. Quickly. DJ Surgeles has a longstanding professional relationship with Detroit legend Jeff Mills. Connected through music, DJ Surgeles learned the insides and tricks of Jeff. Many conversations and meetings over the years led to this new concept, The Escape Velocity. DJ Surgeles has also collaborated exclusively with Jeff Mills on the concepts Something in The Sky and STRMRKD, and produced a special Axis Records 10 year anniversary release, The Bells: DJ Mix back in 2007. I wanna thank Jeff Mills for making this album happen.

After a summer of touring and working on remixes, Big Miz readies this new self-released 5 track EP. The first outing on Miz Records since February, three solo cuts and two collaborations
bring us yet another versatile spin on the modern house sound.

With aquatic sound design and tight kicks introducing ‘Causal Loop’, an opener that quickly morphs into a Legowelt / Alden Tyrell type synth-led jacking house jam, the EP wastes no time in getting going. There’s a sharp vocal sample of the narcotic persuasion that brings to mind Paul Johnson’s classic ‘Give Me Ecstasy’, whilst the clubbier vibe of those early LIES 12”s is also present. The title track is a drum machine workout that gradually ends up in a loopy 90s style minimal techno groove, whereas ‘An Facile’ pushes and pulls at the dancefloor with a mean acid line and makes reference to a gig that may or may not have taken place at a now shut-down Glasgow club many moons ago. You’ll need to ask Miz.

Over to Side B and ‘Sleep Well’ brings in production help from fellow Scottish stalwart Ewan McVicar, the pair working on the tune in a hotel room after a show. Evidently no sleep was had as the swirling acid lines, modulated rimshots and tempo trickery combine to make one of the trippiest jams on the record. Things draw to an end with an Underground Resistance sampling colab with Good Thing resident DD Watermelon.

The (seventh) new Half-handed Cloud album, ‘Flutterama’, is
a record of 18 jubilant indie-pop songs by John Ringhofer
that investigate spiritual incompetence with lively
arrangements and radiant melodies that skilfully dissolve into
deterioration using herky-jerky tape manipulation, analogue
wow-and-flutter, and an animated orchestra of homerecorded sound effects.
 Ringhofer’s work on ‘Flutterama’ was inspired by Frances
Mary Hunter Gordon’s adolescent liturgies (recorded at
Abbey Road during The Beatles era), turbid sights and
sounds in Guy Maddin films, audaciously bold forms in Sister
Corita Kent’s devotional printmaking, the exquisite brittleness
of Elizabeth Cotten’s voice, Alberto Burri’s stitched wound
burlap assemblages, Alvar Aalto church design, Andrea
Büttner’s poverty-informed artwork, Lou Barlow/Dinosaur Jr’s
lo-fi ‘Poledo’ sound collage (which namechecks Jesus), Julie
Canlis book ‘A Theology of the Ordinary’, Wallace Berman’s
visual collage, and The Raincoats’ magnificently shaky DIY
aesthetic.
 The album’s tape-fiddled tunes - recorded on the very same
16-track recorder last serviced by a sound technician who
also worked with The Beach Boys in their home studio -
employ surprisingly little synthesizer (“it felt like cheating,”
says Ringhofer) - he preferred to craft most of the album’s
effects the long way, frequently going behind the back of rock
instrumentation by hand-feeding ½” magnetic reel recordings
of chord organs, deflating balloons, some guitars, piano
(occasionally tracked with a baby on his lap), brass,
tablecloth swipes, and a quickly-cranked half-speed music
box. He was assisted by long-time Half-handed Cloud
contributor Brandon Buckner on drums, and single song
backing vocals from Anacortes, WA songsmith John Van
Deusen.
 LP pressed on Opaque Brown vinyl

Much in demand album from 1986.

Not much is known about the mysterious pop sensation Vumani or his short musical career. Originally from KwaZulu Natal he made his way to Johannesburg in the mid 80’s to follow his dream of becoming a recording artist. He was able to make that dream come true when talent scouts from Decibel Music came across the charismatic youngster. At the time Decibel was still a small fish trying to make waves and the label believed in Vumani they had found the star they were looking for. Being a label with mostly groups signed to the catalog they needed a Front Man to push into the growing demand for Solo Artists that were dominating the airwaves and catching the hearts of youngsters.

Up to this point Decibel had one major hit record. In 1986 they released a single by an artist named David Thanzwane. The music was a direct rip off of the first hit Single by Shangaan Disco pioneer Paul Ndlovu. Copying the music of both sides of the original single the “covers” offered different lyrics and hooks also sung in xiTsonga. This was enough to trick the masses and the single led to record sales for the small label. The unintentional outcome of the single was that from then on the producers and label had one sound they wanted to pump out in hopes of recreating that magic. This desire to create another Shangaan Disco hit would be the backbone of the Vumani sound and what makes his music so special and collectable after all these years.

That same year Vumani would release two Singles, Black Mampatile and Guy Fawkes. Musically these playful and fun singles would have great appeal to youngsters as they sung of daily life in the Townships. Black Mampatile being a game of Hide and Seek, Banana Kari referring to the trucks that would go around the Township exchanging chips and snacks for glass bottles and of course every child’s favourite reason the dress up on November 5th, Guy Fawkes Day. Both singles were received well and a few more tracks were later recorded to create the full album Isiqedakoma. Although he would sing in Zulu the music was unmistakable for Shangaan Disco. The synth heavy bass lines and happy melodies along with relatable fun lyrics were a perfect blend for an album that would make people dance if they were out at a Tavern or Shabeen on a weekend or just enjoying at home with family and friends.

Vumani quickly became the Label’s top priority with managers making sure he always had the freshest clothing styles to go along with his persona, and he never missed any performances or opportunities to impress a crowd. His popularity grew in the Township’s but with that came the unfortunate and all too common problems with fame. He started getting mixed with wrong crowds. He would record another album for Miracle Music, the Decibel sub label that had emerged to focus on the more underground sounds of the post synth pop era. Musically things were going well for Vumani but it would be his life off the stage that would catch up with him. Always known for his commitment to his music and fans one day he uncharacteristically failed to show up and was never heard from again. His body would later be found in a burnt car on the outskirts of Soweto. What led to his tragic death was never known but with the company he kept it is not hard to imagine what one of the many situations that led to that horrific ending could be. His funeral was attended by the entire Township it seemed as people packed the service and flowed out onto the streets, a testament to his popularity and the love the people had for one of their own.

Astrel K is Rhys Edwards of Ulrika Spacek. Astrel K's debut single ‘You Could If You Can’ was released via Duophonic Super 45s - a label which has a history of releasing limited edition abstract releases from Stereolab, Broadcast & Yo La Tengo. 500 copies of the 7” were made, hand stamped and numbered, quickly selling out in selected record shops. Following the loss of KEN, a shared house in which Ulrika Spacek band members lived and worked from, Edwards relocated to Stockholm, Sweden where he began making music on his own: “At this time, I didn’t really know anyone in Stockholm so kinda retreated into making music just by myself. The album title definitely reflects this period; I was on my own making music and sometimes nothing would be happening and sometimes there would be little sparks of ideas that could keep me going” Edwards would spend nights writing and recording in a shared rehearsal space producing music rich with layers and texture, synonymous with the work of Ulrika Spacek but with perhaps a greater focus on the art of ‘song writing’. Tracks with verse’s and chorus’s are surrounded by instrumental interludes; inspired by old library music and compositions for film as well as being reminiscent of bands such as Broadcast. The album doesn’t sound like one made in either London or Stockholm, rather somewhere in the nether region. Written pre pandemic but mixed in the past year, the music led Edwards to finding like minded musicians from the Stockholm music scene: “Though I’m now glad I can say I wrote an album by myself, I was definitely confronted with my own musical strengths and weaknesses. Sometimes when you have an A/B decision you want some perspective and you’d be in the studio, turn around and no one is there. It really made me curious to bring in more people into the fold, not to compromise any original vision or anything, but to have other energy in the room, to exorcise out any lazy tricks I may fall into”. Stockholm musicians (including Lili Holényi, Milton Öhrström, Niklas Mellberg, Tomas Hellberg) played on the album and join Edwards in the live version of the project. UK and European live dates to follow.

RIYL: Guided by Voices, Pavement, The Clean, XTC, Flying Nun. The title of The Stroppies' newest LP, Levity, serves as a creative statement of intent and an acknowledgment of the dichotomy between the music they have made and the conditions in which they were produced. For a group that started over an initial idea to "create open ended music, quickly and haphazardly”, the logistical challenges of creating their second album in the midst of a pandemic, in a city that endured the longest lockdown in the world, created a need to redefine process. Levity, The Stroppies strongest creative statement to date, is the result of this new approach to creative process. Playful yet focused, but broader in scope and experimentation than previous efforts, the ten songs that comprise Levity continue the band's exploration of the pop song as both foil for experimentation and conduit for personal reflection. Whereas the group's debut LP Whoosh! demonstrated their ability to craft clean, concise jangle pop, Levity takes a different route by utilizing a darker pallet of sounds to create its impressionistic whole. Fuzz and distortion are employed to add weight to songs built on tape loops and Motorik drum patterns. Warbling synthesisers and modulated keys add new moods and dimensions to The Stroppies unique brand of pop classicism. Thematically, the band continues their exploration of the personal refracted through the lens of the absurd, though this time around the music feels a few shades darker, a somewhat inevitable consequence of the collective trauma of the past 24 months. While the narrative around the 'lockdown record' is increasingly commonplace, there are unavoidable realities involved in making creative decisions under such circumstances that can't be overlooked, especially for a band that thrives on collaboration. "The restrictions around COVID really informed the way we made the record', says Angus Lord, the band's co-founder and guitarist. "It meant that there was a lot less opportunity to meet and build ideas collaboratively, which is how we’ve worked in the past. Instead, ideas were developed in isolation, then shared digitally, developing slowly over correspondence and only bearing fruit when we were able to be in a room together. I think this had a big effect on the songwriting and execution.” This process even extended to the studio, where The Stroppies found a kindred spirit in John Lee of Phaedra Studios, who mixed the record in isolation, somehow managing to synthesise the band's pop sensibilities with their penchant for studio experimentation. Furthermore, the addition of new member Zoe Monk, known for playing in a diverse array of Melbourne acts (Eggy, Thibault, The Opals) contributed both synthesiser experimentation and rock solid rhythm guitar, a huge addition to the band's developing sound, an infectious combination of the off-kilter 90s US underground, British artpunk ala Wire and a more than generous love of classic Pop songwriting. The Stroppies have managed to craft a record of weight and substance. Through Levity the Stroppies have, at least temporarily, found their feet amongst the chaos

Tripe. It’s what graces the cover of Cassels’ third album, A Gut Feeling. It looks gross. And Cassels are a rock band who’ve often sounded gross. You know the adjectives. ‘Discordant’. ‘Angular’. ‘Cynical’. Shellac quickly mentioned. I’ve done it already, see?Listening to A Gut Feeling, though, Cassels sound different. Not too different – the molten riff of advance single ‘Mr Henderson Coughs’ puts paid to the idea that the London-based duo have taken a hard 180. But instead of writing as quickly as possible, riding the churn forced on DIY bands by an indifferent ecosystem, the Covid-19 pandemic gave the brothers Beck (Jim, guitar/vocals, and Loz, drums/BVs) some time to mull things over. Instead of sticking with the stripped-back recording approach of previous LPs, Jim and Loz spent time at Tom Hill’s Bookhouse Studios in South London, considering tone, layering tracks, and bringing new instruments into the fold. Lyrically, the approach has changed too. Rather than presented as personal experience, Jim notes that his words this time around “are an intentionally muddy mix of experience, opinion, red herrings and fiction,” adding, “I found that setting myself the brief of writing character pieces offered a nice way of sneaking quite personal things into the songs without being explicitly autobiographical.” The result is the most satisfying and unexpected collection of songs in the Cassels catalogue. Instruments at turns razor-sharp and bludgeon-blunt provide the backing track to a savage, hilarious, and tender collection of short stories. Jim notes that “writing can be a great way of unearthing hang-ups and becoming acquainted with your own anxieties”. Hardly new ground for a rock band, but presented in this third person format – unbiased and filled to the brim with human warmth – these songs are more empathetic than anything the band have written before. You might have been Michael on his daily commute. Perhaps you’re Sarah, or have a mum like her. And many of us will recognise ourselves in the heart-breaking ‘Family Visits Relative’. It’s clear that the band still aren’t afraid to tackle weighty subjects too, with A Gut Feeling picking up where their previous album, The Perfect Ending, left off. ‘Charlie Goes Skiing’ pulls a similar trick to Future of the Left’s ‘Goals in Slow Motion’ – setting a screed against consumerism to one of the most propulsive, catchy tracks on the record. It’s followed by ‘Dog Drops Bone’, a rustling loop overlaid with sad, simple chords reminiscent of a Sparklehorse tune, which uses the internal monologue of a beloved canine companion to question the true depth and sincerity of human relationships. This kicks into the breakneck ‘Beth’s Recurring Dream’ – a track exploring a sexual identity crisis which owes as much to early Los Campesinos! as it does Steve Albini. Of ‘Your Humble Narrator’, the album’s punishing, pulsing opener and A Gut Feeling’s thematic frame, Jim explains: “I liked the idea of introducing an unreliable narrator who frames the album as an exercise in manipulation for personal gain. When a person engages with a piece of art they are invariably being manipulated by the artist to some degree – that’s part of the fun. The artist aims to elicit some sort of emotional response, the audience buys into the conceit at the promise of experiencing some form of escape.” as listeners, we experience that manipulation first-hand on A Gut Feeling. But the fact Cassels have packaged it up as offal feels like another bleak wink. This is far from a stinking by-product, salvaged and sold to maximise profit. It’s nothing less than the most complete, relatable, and fully realised piece of art the duo has produced to date. Emotional response elicited. Conceit embraced.

It’s been ten years since Sadie Dupuis recorded the first Speedy Ortiz songs, a solo experiment that quickly became her full-time band. Since then, Speedy has produced an expansive and critically revered discography, toured worldwide, and inspired next generations of bands with inventive songwriting and advocacy to better the music industry. But in 2011, the younger Dupuis was struggling through concurrent traumas: heartbreak from first love, leaving her hometown of New York for Massachusetts, and the grief of losing several young friends. Speedy’s first songs glowed within the contrast of noisiness and intimacy, raw sonic elements that came with closely processing vulnerabilities and Dupuis’ insistence on performing and recording each instrument alone. As the new project fielded show offers from favorite show spaces like Death By Audio and Shea Stadium, these early tracks became the springboard for the playfully melodic and cleverly distorted style for which Speedy Ortiz as a full band is celebrated. Now, ten years later, Speedy’s first self-released collections will be widely available for the first time and reissued as a double LP The Death of Speedy Ortiz & Cop Kicker…Forever, alongside previously unreleased tracks, reflective liner notes penned by Dupuis, and unearthed photos and journal scans from that era.

The tracks on The Death of Speedy Ortiz & Cop Kicker…Forever were written after student-created prompts while Dupuis was teaching a songwriting class at the same summer camp where she’d first learned guitar. "Hexxy Sadie” was written in an hour, like the rest of the songs, and on Dupuis’ twenty-third birthday; using explosive riffs and distorted harmonies, she explores her uncertain yearning as a twinless twin. "Frankenweenie" came from the prompt “dog,” and over brooding piano, spry tambourine, and eruptive snare, Dupuis sings from the perspective of a dead childhood pet about forgiveness. “Cutco,” which navigates tricky chord changes with deft guitar passages and ironic deadpan, grins at the bitterness of friendships gone awry. These early songs highlighted Dupuis’ remarkable talent at dissecting specific emotions and moments, analyzing the many ways the pieces fit together, and scrutinizing the places where they don’t.

During the recording process, Dupuis was inspired by the impulsive DIY methods of artists like Elliott Smith and Sparklehorse; a mixing note from September 2011 read, “It's important for the 'concept' of this 'album' that I don't redo anything.” The Death of Speedy Ortiz & Cop Kicker…Forever still holds onto the magic immediacy of lo-fi recordings, but this reissue is helped by the technical know-how gained through Dupuis’ solo production work as Sad13 (Lizzo, Backxwash). Remixing in 2021, Dupuis cleaned up edits on her triple-tracked drums, made space for instrumental flourishes performed on eclectic instruments like cello, banjo and timpani, and rewired digital sounds to warm up the layers of intersecting guitars. Co-mixer Justin Pizzoferrato (Dinosaur Jr., Sebadoh), who worked with Speedy on Sports EP, Major Arcana, and Real Hair, further clarified the mix with analog compressors, and mastering engineer Emily Lazar (Liz Phair, HAIM) added a glossy sheen to the stratified bombast.

As Dupuis’ cult-beloved early material finally re-enters the world in a substantive way, The Death of Speedy Ortiz & Cop Kicker…Forever is a seamless fit to the Speedy Ortiz discography that succeeded it, and evidence that Speedy’s biting lyrics, intricate compositions, and daring performances have been inherent to the project since its outset.

On January 14th, 2022, Elvis Costello and The Imposters release, ‘The Boy Named If,’ a new album of urgent, immediate songs with bright melodies, guitar solos that sting and a quick step to the rhythm. Costello tell us, ”The full title of this record is 'The Boy Named If (And Other Children’s Stories).’ ‘IF,’ is a nickname for your imaginary friend; your secret self, the one who knows everything you deny, the one you blame for the shattered crockery and the hearts you break, even your own." Produced by Sebastian Krys & Elvis Costello - the album is a collection of thirteen snapshots, “That take us from the last days of a bewildered boyhood to that mortifying moment when you are told to stop acting like a child - which for most men (and perhaps a few gals too) can be any time in the next fifty years," as Costello put it.

It may be his fifth album, but Saturday Night, Sunday Morning marks the start of chapter two for Jake Bugg. Arguably his most complete and coherent record to date, Saturday Night, Sunday Morning manages to combine a love of ABBA, the Beach Boys, Supertramp and the Bee Gees, with a contemporary pop sound: one that’s already spawned his most ubiquitous song in years via euphoric lead single, All I Need. “I knew what I was looking for this time around,” the 27-year-old says, firmly. “And I feel like I accomplished it.” It’s almost 10 years since a two-fingered Bugg burst onto the scene with his eponymous debut, one that topped the UK album charts and saw the then 18-year-old from Nottingham fêted as the next Bob Dylan. A Rick Rubin-produced follow up, Shangri La, quickly followed. But progress stalled with Bugg’s third, largely self-produced, record, On My One, in 2016. “I was having a hard time on that third record,” Bugg admits, five years removed. “The support from the industry wasn’t what it was. All those people telling you how great you are weren’t there anymore. It does feel like the rug’s been swept from under your feet.” What that record provided, however – along with its comparatively stripped-back follow up, Hearts That Strain (2017) – was a much-needed course corrector: one that set Bugg on the upward trajectory he finds himself on today. “When I came to terms with that was when I left the ego at the door,” he says. “It didn’t work out. But it led here. And this is probably my strongest record." It’s testament to Bugg’s rediscovered confidence that Saturday Night, Sunday Morning – a nod to the debut novel by Nottingham author Alan Sillitoe – sees him working with some of his highest profile collaborators to date, most notably American songwriters Andrew Watt and Ali Tamposi, best known for their work with pop heavyweights Post Malone, Dua Lipa, Miley Cyrus, Camila Cabello. “I was looking for how I can incorporate my sound for a more modern era. And I kind of struck gold working with Andrew Watt and Ali Tamposi,” Bugg says. Convening in LA, the first track the trio wrote together is the jealousy-inflected About Last Night, a song about the “insecurities you go through as a young person in a relationship with someone.” “It’s got such dark undertones, which I love,” Bugg says, of a song that showcases a newly discovered, Beach Boys-esque falsetto. “But it’s also very, very pop. That’s what I’ve always loved. With ABBA, with Supertramp. I love pop music. But when you can get it to be dark, I love it even more.” It’s a trick the trio repeated again on Scene, Bugg’s personal favourite from the album and a song that best encapsulates the combination of old and new: Watt’s George Harrison-esquire guitar brushing up against contemporary melodic choices by Tamposi. “I love writing with her,” Bugg says of the Havana hitmaker. “She brought that women’s perspective. And I knew that I’d got that balance of what I wanted. That old school chorus with contemporary verses. That to me was my favourite song when I wrote it, and it still is.” Perhaps the biggest example of Bugg’s newfound ego-less approach to writing, however, came in the shape of Downtown, a song that grew from an idea by Jamie Hartman (Celeste, Lewis Capaldi, Rag'n'Bone Man), and sees Bugg deploy the higher range of his voice to ethereal, ’60s Bee Gees effect. “Usually, the initial spark of an idea comes from me. And when it doesn't, it sometimes loses my attention,” Bugg admits. On Downtown, however, he relished his role as arranger: “Because there were a lot of moving parts and chords, it was almost like a puzzle,” he says. “I’d never approached a song like that before. “What I’ve been enjoying on this record is the collaborative process,” he continues. Working with people, writing with people. Because I’ve realised all I really want to achieve is to be the best writer I can possibly be. And I think by working with other people, it allows you to learn a lot as well.” It’s a theory Bugg has put to the test during lockdown, when he was approached by his manager about writing the soundtrack to an upcoming documentary, The Happiest Man In The World, about Brazilian footballer Ronaldinho. “It’s kind of a completely different experimental outlet,” Bugg explains of his first ever score. “I approach my own work quite professionally. But with this I can just switch off and go into a different world. And it’s been brilliant – I’ve had to learn different styles of guitar: bossa nova, samba. It’s a bit Vangelis, who’s probably my favourite artist – which may surprise people.” Possibly. But you get the impression that surprising is what Bugg likes to do. “I don’t like to be stuck doing the same thing,” he admits. “And that’s what this record Saturday Night, Sunday Morning was. I wanted to push myself. I’m always learning new influences. I’m careful not to get stuck on the same thing. “It’s not going to be right every time. It’s not going to be good every time,” he continues. “But if that’s the process it takes to get to this record, where people are loving the songs again, then that’s the journey we have to take.” For Jake Bugg, chapter two starts now. New album ‘Saturday Night, Sunday Morning’ is out August 20th on RCA Records

Delicate Sound Of Thunder encapsulates a band at their best. Alongside the classic live album and full concert film (restored and re-edited from the original 35mm film and enhanced with 5.1 surround sound), included in The Later Years box set, all stand-alone editions feature 24-page photo booklets, with the 4-disc box edition including a 40-page photo booklet, tour poster and postcards. The 3-LP 180-gram vinyl set includes 9 songs not included on the 1988 release of the album, while the 2-CD includes 8 tracks more than its original release.

In 1987, Pink Floyd made a triumphant resurgence. The legendary British band, formed in 1967, had suffered the loss of two co-founders: keyboardist / vocalist Richard Wright, who left after sessions for The Wall in 1979, and bass player and lyricist Roger Waters, who had left to go solo in 1985, soon after the 1983 album The Final Cut. The gauntlet was thus laid down for guitarist/singer David Gilmour and drummer Nick Mason, who proceeded to create the multi-platinum A Momentary Lapse Of Reason album, a global chart smash, which also saw the return of Richard Wright to the fold.

Originally released in September 1987, A Momentary Lapse Of Reason was quickly embraced by fans worldwide, who flocked to attend the live tour dates, which started within days of the album’s release. The tour played to more than 4.25 million fans over more than two years, and, as a celebration of the enduring talent and global appeal of David, Nick and Richard was unsurpassed at the time.

Filmed at Long Island’s Nassau Coliseum in August 1988 and directed by Wayne Isham, the 2020 release of the Grammy Award nominated Delicate Sound Of Thunder is sourced directly from over 100 cans of original 35mm negatives, painstakingly restored and transferred to 4K, and completely re-edited by Benny Trickett from the restored and upgraded footage, under the creative direction of Aubrey Powell/Hipgnosis. Similarly, the sound was completely remixed from the original multitrack tapes by longtime Pink Floyd engineer Andy Jackson with David Gilmour, assisted by Damon Iddins.

Pink Floyd’s stellar supporting cast for the live dates included: Jon Carin (Keyboards, Vocals), Tim Renwick (Guitars, Vocals), Guy Pratt (Bass, Vocals), Gary Wallis (Percussion), Scott Page (Saxophones, Guitar), Margret Taylor (Backing Vocals), Rachel Fury (Backing Vocals) and Durga McBroom (Backing Vocals).

Technical credits include: Film Producers: Curt Marvis and Carl Wyant; Director of Photography: Marc Reshovsky; Lighting Designer: Marc Brickman, with conceptual footage directed by Storm Thorgerson, except ‘Money’ directed by Storm Thorgerson, Barry Chattington and Peter Medak. Animation on 'Time' was by Ian Emes.

2023 Restock

Within the elusive confines of this film awaits an unreleased album that defies categorisation by a musician who in a different time and space would be revered amongst some of the most important exponents of progressive rock, dark ambient, Krautrock and pioneering synthesiser composition - not to mention sound design and art-house film scores. As a protégé of François Bayle and Luc Ferrari who had studied classical music before immersing himself in found-sound manipulation and oscillators, Alain Pierre quickly became an enthusiastic go-to man for sound sculpture and technical studio proficiency in Belgium’s small film industry.

To the many generations of dedicated fans of the visual work of Philippe Druillet it might seem virtually impossible to adequately “score” the alien, futurist landscapes of the man who many called the “space architect” (on account of his space age reductions of Gothic cathedrals, Art Nouveau, and Indian temples), but once you have heard the sonic reactions of Alain Pierre on this the first-ever dedicated Druillet documentary, Ô Sidarta, complete with his own equivalent sound palette, it will be difficult to “hear” Druillet’s world via any other composer. Despite Druillet’s truly incredible record sleeve designs for projects like cosmic disco ensemble Black Sun, concept albums such as Attention by Jean-Pierre Mirouze (composer of Le Mariage Collectif), Parisian metal bands like Sortilège, gatefold portraits of Jimi Hendrix, later period albums by William Sheller and most relevantly on albums by Igor Wakhévitch (Docteur Faust, 1971) as well as separate releases by both Richard Pinhas and Georges Grünblatt (both from the cosmic prog outfit Heldon), it is fair to say that this criminally unreleased album by Alain Pierre would conjure up the closest synergy between sound and vision that either artist would come close to.

The almost twelve of continuous music that Alain Pierre supplied for Ô Sidarta in 1974 fortunately appears in its entirety, unedited, as it does here for the first time ever away from its original broadcasts. Broadcast on Belgian and French TV that autumn, the film received a warm reception from Druillet fans, prospective film producers and space rock fans lucky enough to catch the short feature.

Throughout his career Alain’s commitment to conceptual music excelled within both cinematic realms as well as with the live arena. Never shying away from the constraints of transporting heavy synthesiser technolog and unpredictable analogue equipment to public spaces, Alain took his self-initiated “live” work very seriously. It was within his lesser-documented performances that you would find the closest sound to the music on Ô Sidarta, proving that the Druillet collaboration was naturalistic and conceptually close to Alain’s personal stylistic agenda. A rare recording of a one-off concert at the Université libre de Bruxelles in October 1976 reveals a very similar set of movements and soundscapes found on Ô Sidarta. This rare artefact has been included on the second side of this record under its original title Notions de physique intérieure (Notions Of Interior Physics) and stands as a perfect companion piece to Ô Sidarta - complete with a very similar “kit list” including the welcome addition of an Arp Sequencer, a Korg Vocoder and a Theremin (a back line whose total would far surpass any stationary studio of the era never mind a live show!).

By looking back at his original composition for one of his very first solo soundtrack commissions, Ô Sidarta, you can hear that back in 1974 Alain had already successfully managed to combine more unlikely musical influences, experimental techniques, and previously unheard soundscapes and studio tricks in to one twelve-minute score than most musicians fail to cram in to a whole discography. But still there is so much music yet to be discovered and Ô Sidarta is just the tip of the iceberg in the middle of a cosmic sea. Much like a character from one of Philippe Druillet’s books, Alain Pierre is a rogue pilot, steering his own ship in to the unknown, uncharted, unnoticed and quite unbelievable.

The Bees are a textbook case of the chew and spit cycle that was the late 80’s South African music industry. Although their unknown story is likely unique, it is just as likely that it is no different to that of many other young artists who dreamed of getting their music heard at the time.

By 1988, the independent record label was no longer as uncommon as it had been at the beginning of the decade. As the 80s went on, more seasoned A&R reps and Producers that had gained experience and connections from their work under major labels would be trying to cash in on a market they helped create. Without the need of big rooms or expensive recording equipment, the digital advancements allowed many Producers to open or work in smaller studios and promote unknown artists under their own imprints. They would then have their catalogs marketed and distributed by the same major labels they had been working for just years prior. This would open up the possibility of a new era of stars as potential talent no longer had to be pitched to major labels in hopes of them taking a chance on a new signee over their already established artists. With the market growing and a struggle to keep up with the demand for new sounds this agreement would allow the major labels to put new emerging artists or groups on their catalog with little investment and high reward if it happened to be a hit.

ON Records was just one of the independent players at the time. Ronnie Robot had just signed the unlikely trio The Bees in hopes of adding a hit group to his label roster that consisted of solo acts. Despite the debut’s fresh house inspired sound, it failed to catch on was outsold by the bubblegum disco the label was known for. Over the years unsold back stock and promos would build up with the distributor. Luckily this allowed sealed copies from the label’s catalog to survive into the 90s when the distributor’s stock was unloaded and picked up by legendary Johannesburg jazz shop Kohinoor. Here sealed copies of the Bees first attempt sat under appreciated for over 20 years before becoming a hot title after they started circulating online and became club staples. This is how the first album of an unknown group with no success was able to become a collectors item and earn a reissue over 25 years later.

With their first record behind them The Bees were ready move forward and get back into the studio. A suggestion from producers had the trio change camps and go work with the newly formed Creative Sound Recordings, the label that promised “Music for the Future” and ended up being an essential studio in the early years of Kwaito. They would work with producer Chris Ghelakis and guitarist George Vardas, while a young Marvin Moses sat behind the desk. Musically the sophomore album was as good as a follow up as you could get. Building on the first album, Mashonisa delivers catchy melodies backed by heavy drum programming that would score points with any Pantsula. The Black Box inspired “ Never Give Up” was one of two tracks chosen to be pressed as the promo for the album, hoping to trick listeners with their catchy version of the hit( A year later the label would release their first volume of Black Box covers sang by neo soul diva BB, it would be a great seller). The label printed up an unknown amount of these in a last attempt to push the release in Shabeens and on Radio. The cheaper route of flooding the market with promo copies would only pay off 25 years later when unplayed copies started being rediscovered and had survived the years in a quantity that original run of the full album could not. Once again it was clear that with no mainstream appeal, the quality of the music on its own was not enough to garner any success at the time. The album flopped worse than their first and failed to make it past it’s initial run, making it one of the harder titles to get from the CSR catalog.

Mashonisa would be the last attempt from the Bees. They would disappear from the scene as quickly as they appeared. Of the three members it is only known that lead Singer Solomon Phiri continued in music fronting a wave dance group before he mysteriously vanished in 1993, never to be heard from again. Through a combination of luck and circumstance the group, which is unknown in South Africa to even the most plugged in musicians, producers and radio hosts of the time, managed to finally get some of the recognition they deserved 30 years later. Unfortunately this small blip of fame would happen with none of the band members present to give their side of the story, or even aware of how their two albums became popular enough to be printed on different continents in a new millennia. The Bees suffered the same fate as countless other artists of the time, who thanks to emerging independent labels and willing producers were given an opportunity to have a short career, only to be replaced by the meat grinder of the music industry when they failed to produce a hit.

On his third album as Trickfinger, John Frusciante makes the jump from Acid Test to its leftfield sub-label, Avenue 66, to unleash the full scope of his vision. On She Smiles Because She Presses The Button, the legendary, LA-based cult figure, presents his most diverse yet cohesive album to date.



Frusciante has the melodic and programming chops to jump from style to style while sounding only like himself. "Amb" is the welcome middle-ground between Balearic and IDM while "Brise” with its quick syncopations and rhythmic groove provide a contrasting fabric. Elsewhere, JF caroms through electro and pastoral, "intelligent" ambient. The common thread through this quixotic journey are his trademark, timeless melodies.



For years now, Frusciante has immersed himself in machines, learning tracker programs, synths and drum machines inside and out, applying the same, tireless approach he's exhibited throughout his career. On She Smiles Because She Presses The Button, this period of intense study leads intense creative liberation.