Cerca:quiet light

Alien Transistor is proud to announce a reissue of Such December, the fourth album by Japanese indie folk-pop artist, Gratin Carnival. Listeners might already know Gratin Carnival from their appearance on the Alien Parade Japan compilation of indie pop groups working with brass and woodwind; compiled by Markus Acher of The Notwist and Saya of Tenniscoats, it introduced this beautiful genre to the wider world. Gratin Carnival’s “Just Watching” was one of the many highlights of that compilation, and its gentle bossa-folk glide reappears on Such December.

Originally released in 2020, Such December captures beautifully the happy-sad charm of Gratin Carnival. The project of Koreyuki Mitsunaga, Gratin Carnival started in 2011; Mitsunaga had been home recording for some time and decided on the name as an umbrella for his music-making. Mitsunaga’s main instruments are guitar, which he uses to great effect throughout, his gorgeous acoustic playing reminiscent of players like Ueno Takashi of Tenniscoats or João Gilberto, and alto saxophone and clarinet. Those three instruments make up the core of Gratin Carnival’s sound, along with Mitsunaga’s charmingly doleful singing.

Recording at his parents’ home, with a four-track cassette recorder and a MacBook, Mitsunaga created Such December during 2020, though the songs on it stretch back to 2016. The closing “On The Train” was the first song written for the album – “a song about a small trip,” Mitsunaga recalls – and from there, he built a beautiful collection of songs that sit together perfectly. There’s great clarity in Mitsunaga’s writing, with nothing extraneous getting in the way of the lucid arrangements and gorgeous melodies; there’s something of chamber jazz about it at times, so it’s no surprise that Mitsunaga shares his love of Benny Goodman’s small group playing.

He's also a fan of Japanese folk artists like Kenji Endo and Kyouzou Nishioka, and grew up listening to Japanese popular music, The Beatles, and The Carpenters. You can hear trace elements of all this in Such December, in the clear-headedness of the melodic decisions made by Mitsunaga, and the quiet charm of the song’s gentle arrangements. They take on different shapes live, too, where Mitsunaga often invites other musicians to join in – his live band currently includes Masafumi Ezaki (trumpet), Nahoko Kamei (bass clarinet, piano, keyboards) and Tadashi Yonago (trombone, self-made instruments).

As with plenty of musicians from the Japanese underground, Mitsunaga is involved in other music, too – he’s been working with The Otoasobi Project, which performs music in collaboration with individuals with learning disabilities, and their families; and he’s also involved in improvised music. With Such December, though, you get to hear Mitsunaga’s music at its most personal and individual, ten songs of still, gorgeously poised indie folk-pop, where the swooning clang of six strings meets the breathy bliss of woodwind and brass.

GER JUNG IN WIEN - NEUE JANGLE-POP GRUPPE MIT 80ER INDIE WAVY VIBE. IHRE ERSTEN BEIDEN MINI-ALBEN "TROUBLE" & "LIGHTNING TRAILS" JETZT AUF EINER LP. "Der gerade erst volljährig gewordene Tobias Hammermüller steht für weichgespülten Bedroom-Wave und formte für sein Debütalbum auf Siluh Records die Band Laundromat Chicks." (THE GAP) - Hinter dem Namen LAUNDROMAT CHICKS verbirgt sich das Musikprojekt von TOBIAS HAMMERMÜLLER, der gerade 19 Jahre alt geworden ist. Nach dem selbstproduzierten Debüt "Trouble" haben die LAUNDROMAT CHICKS ein neues Album vorgelegt, das deutlich ruhigere Töne anschlägt. "Lightning Trails", das Band-Mastermind Tobias Hammermüller zusammen mit Martin Rupp (Jansky) produziert hat, ist ein folkiges Manifest für die leisen Töne geworden, die wir dringend brauchen. Beide Alben sind jetzt auf einer LP verewigt. Seite A mit dem eher ruppigeren "TROUBLE", auf der B-Seite das folk-inspirierte Kleinod "LIGHNTING TRAILS" "Lightning Trails" ist ein Meisterwerk an Musikalität und Zurückhaltung zugleich, eine Ode an die Verträumtheit und Nachdenklichkeit in Zeiten des Aufruhrs und der aufeinanderprallenden Ideologien. Es ist eine Einladung, aus dem Fenster zu klettern und eine aus den Fugen geratene Welt von einem versteckten Sims aus zu betrachten. Wie das Nachglühen eines Blitzes auf der Netzhaut, in der nahen Ferne." (Paul Buschnegg) Für Freunde von PASTELS, THE RADIO FIELD, THROW THAT BEAT, COMET GAIN, UK-Indie, Teen Angst, Twee-Pop...



[ENG] BEING YOUNG IN VIENNA - NEW JANGLE-POP GROUP WITH SOME 80S INDIE WAVY VIBE. THEIR FIRST TWO ALBUMS "TROUBLE" & "LIGHTNING TRAILS" ON ONE LP "Conversational lyrics depict a night on the phone amid claustrophobic misgivings and obsessive mental wanderings. Energetic, bittersweet sentiments ignite wandering clusters of shimmering strumming riffs and jangly wistful guitar melodies to weave swaying paths of vibrant nostalgia through low pulsing bass lines, skipping drumbeats, and pinpoint synth stabs to accompany heartfelt yet angsty vocal harmonies, haloed in distant echoes of doubt, through a sad discomforting timeline of uncertainty and dread." (WHITE LIGHT / WHITE HEAT) Behind the name LAUNDROMAT CHICKS is the music project of TOBIAS HAMMERMÜLLER, who just turned 19. After their selfproducued debut "Trouble", LAUNDROMAT CHICKS has presented a new album that touches on much quieter tones. "Lightning Trails", which band mastermind Tobias Hammermüller produced with Martin Rupp (Jansky), has become a folky manifesto for the quiet nuances that we desperately need. Both albums are now immortalised on one LP. Side A with the rather rough "TROUBLE", on the B-side the folk-inspired gem "LIGHNTING TRAILS". "Lightning Trails is a masterpiece of musicality and restraint at the same time, an ode to dreaminess and thoughtfulness in times of turmoil and clashing ideologies. It is somehow an invitation to climb out the window to view an unhinged world from a hidden ledge. Similar to the afterglow of a flash on the retina, in the near distance." (Paul Buschnegg) RIYL Pastels, The Radio Field, Throw That Beat, Comet Gain, UK-Indie, Teen Angst, Twee-Pop...

We walked the earliest edge of Sunday, winter dark; streets lined up with standstill cars,

silver, grey, and black, and white; while the ever-distant sun, then further still, was slowly
breaking into shining. The town was quiet, gleaming; the rows of tenements - awash with sky.

And we rarely chanced upon a person, save the stocking-wrapped, shadows without bodies,
and that nude and mouthless one. We turned into a narrow lane past the power station,

the mute red lights of chimneys looking down at us. We reached the concrete halfpipe
of the dried-out canalside. And listened out for it. To disappear.

For that.

'Nothing left but silence' is Erik K Skodvin’s third solo album for Sonic Pieces and his most quiet to date. Subtitled as "Musical improvisations and quiet collages from the subconscious”, Skodvin reduces his instruments to guitar, reverb and amp - and creates a skeleton of eight hypnotic ragas that meanders in an eternal loop between ephemeral and singular.

Only on the horizon it’s possible to sense that Skodvin has also touched the neoclassical terrain in earlier productions - on Nothing left but silence, however, he acts as a twilight player who is not afraid of the coldness of endless space and who knows how to subjugate the shadowiness of the visible world. Carried by the noise of the amp and the occasional click of the effects pedals, a monolithic, reduced blues emerges, whose mediumistic quality nevertheless reveals that Skodvin's music always comes from the body - and as such is always searching for space. A space that - in this case - blends the vastness of the Norwegian steppe with the brittleness of American wasteland (as if Deathprod and Loren Connors were one and the same person), creating a persistent state between deceleration and absence of presence - that leads Skodvin ever closer to the inner essence of sound.

Initially recorded at Saal 3, Funkhaus, Berlin by Nils Frahm in 2015, the album has itself been subjected to silence as a forgotten relic, re-found and now released in a time where it might connect more with the contemporary state of mind. Welcome to the entrance to the periphery.

Adrian Borland and Graham Bailey might be better known as members of legendary post-punk group The Sound, but the two were childhood friends and had been playing together even earlier in The Outsiders, and continued their deep musical rapport as a duo, creating these intense and engaging songs as Second Layer at the same time as their higher profile band output. Following our release of Courts Or Wars, combining their early material, we are proud to reissue their only full length album, World Of Rubber.

Fueled by experimentation in both song construction and recording techniques, the duo leave you enveloped in what The Quietus described as, “a monochrome worldview morbidly obsessed with the dehumanizing effect of war, nuclear weapon annihilation, and the fracturing and negation of the self within an increasingly distorted and technologically mediated society.” Indeed, the goal had been to make each album a concept album, with this to be titled: Second Layer’s World Of Rubber. Alas, this was to be the first and last of those efforts. New detailed liner notes from Graham Bailey shed considerable light on the creation of this cold classic and its immediate aftermath.

Bailey’s inventive construction and deconstruction of various electronics, effects boxes and tape loops form the propulsive base for these songs. Borland’s guitar playing is jagged and unleashed. Above it all is an undeniable sense of melody and Adrian’s distinctive vocals. Soon, they would wonder where Second Layer ended and The Sound began, but World Of Rubber would stand as a document of this fertile period. It would also be a lasting testament to their desire to push the boundaries of their creativity. Dark and brooding the result is what Bandcamp described as “brutally bleak, blank-eyed post-punk that remains chillingly compelling.”

RIYL: PJ Harvey, Sonic Youth, Dead Can Dance, Black Sabbath, Depeche Mode. In Blood is the group’s 14th album and the follow-up to 2020’s critically acclaimed Dances/Curses (Album Of The Year – The Quietus, Top 10 International Albums – Irish Times). It was typical of a band so well-known for stellar live performances to release their most successful album at a time when they were unable to back it up on the road. As was the case for many, lockdown changed the band’s lives in unexpected ways. Some felt a form of cabin fever at not being able to continue to make music (diverting their energies elsewhere - founding Wrong Speed Records for starters) whereas others relished the peace and quiet, perhaps questioning whether they wanted to return to the life they had before. Gigs (so long the lifeblood of the band) were booked, postponed, and cancelled. Things began to unravel and perhaps for the first time since the band formed in 2003 it was hard to see how it could continue. A plan was hatched to attempt to re-energise and reassemble the band: they would begin work on a new album. They would approach this as though a Somerset version of The Desert Sessions – members old and new and guests would contribute as and when time and restrictions allowed. Lyrically, British folk and ghost mythology provided the starting position for the song themes ranging from mutated stories of grief and loss written in the 14th Century (Perle), spiritual reawakening by ancient apparitions (Avalon) to the growth of nature after devastation (Can’t Feel Around Us, Over Cedar Limb), a metaphor also for spirit and body renewal and rebirth after trauma. The results sound free of any genre shackles and it suits Hey Colossus. They have taken the expansive anything-goes approach that made Dances/Curses so successful and fine-tuned and shaped it into an 8-song single album that never treads water or fills time. The prominent vocals steer the listener through the music, defining it as opposed to punctuating it (or being buried by it). The album is a calling card for the band in their 20th anniversary year. As odd and challenging as long-term fans would expect or hope for, but somehow more accessible and to the point than ever before. It is the closest the group have ever come to a pop record, radiating positivity through the murk like a small ray of light in some very dark and very weird times. Music can never entirely negate these feelings but, like the natural world referenced in the lyrics and sleeve, it invisibly bonds people together, lifting us up if we choose to let it.

Kristin Hersh’s new album is a cinematic road trip; a series of personal vignettes from a fiercely independent auteur, sitting plush with layers of all-consuming strings and mellotron. It’s a watershed moment in a career overflowing with creative firsts and inspirational thinking; an elegant piece of personal reportage, a home movie caught in time. Previously, the juxtaposition of light and dark has been essential to the drama of Throwing Muses and 50FOOTWAVE, but this solo set is something of a departure; more inward looking, quieter but outspoken, underpinned by background noise for ambience and awkwardness. “Passion sounds less angry, more grateful, I think,” Kristin muses, “sweeter, sadder. And somehow, no less alive… over car engines and rain in New England and whistling ducks and wind chimes in New Orleans, it all sounds wistful to me.” ‘Clear Pond Road’ is a life-affirming statement, a further part of the jigsaw, a very personal memoir, from street signs to snapshots; a late blossoming and coming-of-age from a true icon of independence. The record is both intimate yet expansive, written largely within the confines of Hersh’s home, making the proceedings ever more personal. // “Few artists understand the intensity of living one’s art like Hersh” The Guardian // “A fearless rock innovator” New York Times

RIYL: Sigur Ros, Explosions in the Sky, Bark Psychosis, Caspian, Mogwai, This Will Destroy You. Exclusive vinyl colour (Opaque Mix Hellfire), limited to 1000 copies, and features a gatefold jacket, printed two-sided Euro sleeves, four art prints, and download code. Breaking from the strange monotony and abnormal norms that took hold during two years of pandemic life, Hammock returns with Love in the Void, an album that looks to the future, seizes the present, and unabashedly relishes the experiences and bonds that bring meaning to our days. Known for crafting orchestral works of stirring cinematic ambience, on Love in the Void the Nashville-based duo of Marc Byrd and Andrew Thompson bring guitar-forward, heart-pounding urgency to songs that shout through and shatter the static of complacency. Since forming as Hammock in 2003, Byrd and Thompson have released 14 critically-acclaimed albums and are renowned for their unique talent for bringing inexpressible emotion to life. The Covid-19 pandemic followed closely after one of Hammock’s career-defining works, the Mysterium, Universalis, and Silencia trilogy that chronicled the incomprehensible loss of Byrd’s 20-year old nephew. At their homes and apart, Byrd and Thompson then recorded Elsewhere, an album of shimmering ambience that channelled alienated longing and displacement into avenues that gave way to worlds and possibilities yet realized. Shaken awake and needing to break free of frustrations and longings, Love in the Void pulses with an unbridled spirit for action and experience and a burning desire for connection. Across songs that hammer home the keenly felt emotions of life’s highs and lows, Byrd and Thompson crest soaring crescendos awash in reverb and delve to keenly felt moments of quiet introspection, with unflinching lyrics on tracks like “Undoing” and “Denial of Endings’’ that weigh choices made and circumstances that can’t be changed. Lush and dramatic string orchestration from Matt Kidd (Slow Meadow) and emphatic drumming from Jake Finch heighten the stakes in play, and Christine Byrd’s (Lumenette) ethereal vocals leave mysteries lingering in the haze. Love in the Void is Hammock’s loudest album to date, embracing daring and vulnerability with palpable vitality at its core, and moving into an unknown future without fear.

65daysofstatic feiern 2023 das 10-jährige Bestehen von "Wild Light" mit einer längst überfälligen Vinyl-Wiederveröffentlichung des beliebten Albums auf 180g transparent-magenta-farbenem Vinyl. Das ursprünglich 2013 erschienene sechste Studioalbum der Band wurde von The Quietus als "an exploration and expression of sonic freedom" bezeichnet und hat sich seitdem zu einem Favoriten unter den Fans entwickelt. Im September 2023 geht die Band auf eine UK- und Europa-Tournee, auf der sie das Album in voller Länge sowie weitere Titel ihrer Karriere vorstellen wird.

The new LP by Krefeld-born, Berlin-based artist Philipp Otterbach entitled 'The Dahlem Diaries'.

Recorded in a little-visited corner of the German capital, 'The Dahlem Diaries' is a convergence of ideas, sketches and tracks, both old and new, most of which were produced between 2020-2022. Whilst eerie atmospheres, electronics and drums have played a pivotal role in Philipp’s earlier releases, his latest is a rather more introspective affair, in which the guitar takes a leading role. A role Otterbach uses to quietly bring light and hope to his music.

Speaking about his writing process, Philipp explains that, based around his original compositions, “Friends were nice enough to contribute additional parts on their instruments which I then reworked, put together and re-contextualized. The recordings encapsulate a very specific moment in time, one that would have sounded perhaps very different the day before or after.”

Combined with a strong use of effects and field recordings, 'The Dahlem Diaries' feels somewhat like a scene or fragment from a story, in which the narrative remains undefined. It is a playful album that is something of a blurred underwater adventure, sounding as bright as it is hazy, even psychedelic at times, yet with an almost melancholic positivity. In Philipp’s own words: “It could be an album about friendship and being at one with myself, whilst at the same time bringing a certain seriousness to my music, but not necessarily to myself; there is also a playful humour hidden in there. ”

Selected Songs 1997-2003 compiles some of the finest moments in the recording history of Hydroplane, the Melbourne-based indie-pop three-piece that operated alongside The Cat’s Miaow through the second half of the nineties. It’s the third release in what feels, now, like a loosely planned series by World Of Echo, documenting the music made by this group of friends in Melbourne sharehouses (The Cat’s Miaow’s Songs ’94-’98, 2022), or in the case of The Shapiros (Gone By Fall, 2023), while traversing the International Pop Underground.

Hydroplane would be familiar to anyone already following these breadcrumb trails – Andrew Withycombe, Bart Cummings and Kerrie Bolton were the group’s core, all members of The Cat’s Miaow. With Cat’s Miaow drummer Cameron Smith itinerant, having moved to London, the trio used this opportunity to expand their music. It’s a subtle, but important shift. If The Cat’s Miaow was about the perfect, minimalist, two-minute pop song, Hydroplane’s music was far more open-ended, embracing the loops and drones, sampled house-y shuffle beats, the burbling of a Roland Jupiter-4 synth, all of which the trio joined, effortlessly, to their endless capacity for moving, elegant melodicism.

They may have only planned to release one seven-inch single, but the sound Hydroplane created was so bewitching, so compelling, that the project’s lifespan ran for around half a decade, and they ended up releasing three albums, including a self-titled debut recently reissued by Efficient Space, and seven singles. There are all kinds of compelling things happening in the music compiled here – the hazy repetition of the gentler side of Krautrock is in here, somewhere, which also suggests Stereolab at their most intimate and disarmed; the gently drifting guitars, gauzy and oneiric, set the songs adrift and floating, each one lost in its own imagined, distracted world. Songs like “The Love You Bring” set indistinct tonal floats across dance rhythms, in a way not quite heard since My Bloody Valentine’s “Instrumental” – but with the added gift of Bolton’s gorgeous voice.

This loose coalition with dance music, and the quiet experimentalism at the heart of Hydroplane, also gestures towards peers like Hood, Acetate Zero and Other People’s Children, and releases on renegade labels like Wurlitzer Jukebox and Enraptured. Like those groups and labels, The Cat’s Miaow were reconciling independent pop music’s past – sweet melody and melancholy, chiming and droning guitars – with the futures promised by DIY electronics and nascent digitalia, the interface of indie and IDM that led to some of the underground’s most blissful, texturally swoonsome music. All that is here, but also, the poise of the melodies is pure Cat’s Miaow, though, with Bolton’s voice sailing, pacifically, over some of the most pared-down, gorgeous music made during their decade.

It was a time, too, when such music could make waves – “We Crossed The Atlantic”, one of their early singles, was picked up by John Peel, who played it repeatedly on his legendary radio show, the song reaching #13 on his 1997 Festive 50. That the song itself was a cover of a tune by 1960s Australian beatnik-pop-poet Pip Proud felt even more perfect – a group of outsiders paying tribute to another outsider, played on the radio one of the few broadcasters brave and human enough to take a chance on this music. But it was a time where everything was up for grabs, and genres were flowing into each other: folk songs went drone; indie re-discovered noise; ambient pop floated, again, out onto the dancefloor. And while they may have been sequestered away in Melbourne, Australia, Hydroplane felt core to that scene, a quietly driving force.

Compiling material from across their brief but mercurial career, this double album perfectly captures the magic and mystery of Hydroplane’s dreamlike, perfect pop songs.

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

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

Oblique Strategies can also be delicate at times, as on the beautiful third piece, ‘Destilled Edible’, dominated by a slow, microtonal melody played with a breathy tone resembling a shakuhachi. The closing side-long ‘Light My Fire’ ranges across classic improv call and response, skittering trumpet blurts, inept cymbal clatter, mock-operatic vocals, and crude tape manoeuvres. Momentarily pausing at the ten-minute mark for an interlude of ghostly room sound and crackling texture, its closing moments unfurl a glorious dual saxophone finale, the almost epic tone subtly undermined by Tyfus quietly tapping out swing rhythms. Arriving in a striking sleeve adorned with Tyfus’ drawings, Oblique Strategies is an invigoratingly free-spirited blast of improvisation.
Downloads

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

A historic collaboration by two of jazz music's greatest artists on 180g Double LP Set! Impex Records' deluxe production captures the amazing outdoor acoustics with fine detail and wide dynamic range. The beautiful gatefold jacket is coated in a vintage high-gloss lacquer.

The White House Sessions, Live 1962 contains inspired performances of classic tunes "Take Five", "Castilian Blues", "Lullaby of Birdland", and "I Left My Heart In San Francisco".

"Bennett's vocals are particularly natural and present-sounding... Brubeck's group in its prime, with Paul Desmond on Alto, Eugene Wright on bass and Joe Morello on drums... Bennett/Brubeck is nonetheless a record I found myself playing more times than I expected to before sitting down to write this. There's something about a live performance from a time when life was so much simpler, even if more jittery and dangerous because of the cold war, that makes you want to go back in time and enjoy it all again."

This two LP set is beautifully re-mastered and the original artwork has been carefully replicated.

Two remarkable visionaries at the peak of their powers, Dave Brubeck and his quartet and Tony Bennett (both with his group and with Bennett with trio) give hot performances of some of their biggest hits: Brubeck's revved up "Take Five," and Tony Bennett's soulful "I Left My Heart in San Francisco."

Playing the popular White House Sessions concert on the Washington Mall for President John F. Kennedy, these titans of popular jazz have a great time informing, joking and playing the lights out. You'll want to play the grooves out of Impex's impeccably produced issue of this lost treasure. Quiet surfaces, incredible dynamics, full frequency responses and deluxe packaging will provide years of listening and viewing pleasure.

There's something intangible about Celeste, the Soundcarriers’ second album, originally released in 2010. It has a light, lucid quality, almost like driving exhausted through a strange city at night. Freeflowing yet tethered, dreamy yet attacking, the band continue the fight to reconcile competing impulses. Various threads just about keep the shimmering tapestry from tearing. Haunting folk melodies underpinned by rhythmic static and the physicality of the totally analogue recording and mixing, baroque keyboard counterpoints and sweeping arrangements. The opener “Last Broadcast” seems to encapsulate this but it's almost as if the album gets the angst out of its system with this track and is free to explore the quieter, less crowded back streets. After the smoke of “Last Broadcast” has cleared, the twisting road takes in the soft introspection of “Hideaway” and “Morning Haze”, both tracks morphing into heavy psyche grooves or the eastern tinged psyche funk of “Signals” and “Rise And Fall”. Or takes another turn with the tightly arranged opening segment of “Long Highway”. Somehow it still manages to fit in ‘60s pop gems like “There Only Once”. An album to really lose yourself in, yet more concise than the sprawling Harmonium and more relaxed and freeflowing than the nervy rush of Entropicalia, Celeste could be arguably their most indispensable album and not to damn it with faint praise, their most listenable.

Repress!

Funkiwala Records presents the third in the series of "Lokkhi Terra meets"albums, with the London fusionistas creating another unique sound-clash, this time with ex-Fela Kuti keyboardist and legendary UK Afro-beat ambassador Dele Sosimi, and members of his critically acclaimed Afro-beat Orchestra.

This particular collaboration has been bubbling away for a few years now, teasing audience expectations with a handful of sold out shows each year in between both bands busy schedules.
Featuring the two pianos of Kishon Khan and Dele Sosimi – Cuban percussionists/vocalists Geraldo De Armas (Yoruba Andabo), Oreste Noda (Ariwo), Javier Camilo (Ibrahim Ferrer) - a horn section led by Justin Thurgur (Bellowhead) featuring Yelfris Valdes (Sierra Maestra) and Graeme Flowers (Kyle Eastwood) to name a few – this is an All-star cast.

Kishon Khan's Lokkhi Terra have over a number of years now been quietly establishing themselves as one of London's more unusual heavyweight outfits, described as "Stunning Headliners… A majestic multi-cultural blend of sounds… effortlessly builds bridges between rolling Indian raga rhythms, Afro-Cuban grooves, Acid Jazz/funk and free flowing improvisation" (Timeout London). Included amongst the band members are London's top Cuban musicians, adding their infectious rich musical history to the city's melting pot.
When the band wanted to explore Cuban links with another of their favourite traditions, Afrobeat, who better to bring in then one of the Afrobeat originators – maestro Dele Sosimi – "Sosimi creates some of the most bewitching grooves in modern African music" E Jazz News.
Bringing together two Yoruba speaking musics - with different accents, from different sides of the Atlantic - Havana meets Lagos in London – A Cuban-Afrobeat-Experience. CUBAFROBEAT.

All About Jazz 4star review

A younger version of London's Grand Union Orchestra, founded by world-jazz pioneer Tony Haynes in 1982, Lokkhi Terra was put together by keyboard player Kishon Khan in 2005. Both ensembles have made a specialism of jazz / South Asian fusion, with Lokkhi Terra also giving as much attention to music from Cuba, where Bangladeshi-born, London-based Khan lived for a while in the early 2000s.

Cubafrobeat, as the title foretells, is a blend of Cuban dance music and Nigerian / Yoruban Afrobeat—a fusion rendered seamless by the synergies existing between Afro-Cuban and Yoruban music, language and mythology. The album is Lokkhi Terra's third and partners the band with the keyboard player and vocalist Dele Sosimi .

A young-going-on-child-prodigy member of Fela Kuti's Egypt 80, Sosimi went on to become musical director of Femi Kuti's Positive Force, before relocating to London and setting up Dele Sosimi's Afrobeat Orchestra, the finest Afrobeat band outside Nigeria, bar none, now with a string of consistently engaging albums under its belt. Cubafrobeat features Sosimi as lead vocalist on all four tracks, and on Fender Rhodes on two of them. His singing plays a prominent role in the Afrobeat Orchestra, but, such is the whirlwind impact of the band in full instrumental flight, that Sosimi is often thought of first and foremost for his keyboard and arranging talents. That may change by the time 2018 is over. Cubafrobeat is the third album in as many months to feature Sosimi as guest vocalist, spotlighting the gravitas, air of mystery, intimacy and ferocity his voice can bring to an occasion.

The first of these albums was the genre-bending spiritual-jazz band Emanative's Earth (Jazzman). One of the stand-out tracks, "Ìyáàmi," features Sosimi making obeisance to the titular Mother Goddesses of the Yoruba spirit worlds. His raw and intense invocations carry the track for nine mesmerising minutes. Otherwordly is not the half of it. Next up was dub / reggae / jazz band Soothsayers' Tradition (Wah Wah 45s), which featured Sosimi as lead vocalist on the compelling "Sleepwalking (Black Man's Cry)." Earth and Tradition are both outstanding albums and have previously been reviewed here.

Cubafrobeat is a total stonking blinder, too. It is an effectively nuanced affair, opening with the fiery "Afro Sambroso" and closing with the relatively reflective "Rumbafro." Sosimi's vocals light up the music, as do the several solos from trumpeters Graeme Flowers and Yelfris Valdes Espinosa and trombonist Justin Thurgur (a member of both Lokkhi Terra and the Afrobeat Orchestra). Sosimi and Kishon Khan's intertwining Fender Rhodes solos on "Cubafro" are also a delight, as is the drum and percussion section throughout.

The sound of summer, for sure, Cubafrobeat has enough depth and variety to make it something for all seasons.

Songlines 4star review

Lokkhi Terra are one of London's most authentic groups. They are a Latin-flavoured collective whose keyboard player and bandleader Kishon Khan segues from percussive montunos to complex Bengali rhythms and back, with jazz chops sparking funky and outward-looking fusions. Their collaboration with Dele Sosimi, Britain's foremost Afrobeat ambassador, has been bubbling for a while; here four tracks at ten minutes see musical conversations that never lose their sense of flow. An extensive line-up of stellar players, including trumpeter Yelfris Valdés, conguero Oreste Noda and trombonist Justin Thurgur, highlights the genre-crossing potential of world traditions. Opener 'Afro Sambroso' showcases batá drums from Gerardo de Armas Sarria before the track links Cuban grooves with Afrobeat. 'Timbafro' crackles and sways via Khan's organ, Sosimi's vocals and Oscar Martinez's timbales. 'Cubafro' features dazzling interplay between Khan, Sosimi and Javier Camillo's Spanish-language vocals. 'Rumbafro' is all rumba choruses, Yoruba vocals and Afrobeat horns. Rooted in their sources, but with musical threads intertwining, separating and reconfiguring – with grooves at a premium – this is a fusion lover's dream

Phi-Psonics is a meditative, deeply soulful immersive jazz group from
Los Angeles, led by bassist Seth Ford-Young and featuring Sylvain
Carton on woodwinds, Mitchell Yoshida on electric piano, and Josh
Collazo on drums. Their deeply soulful music draws on jazz and
classical influences together with Ford-Young’s own musical
experiences, relationships, and his introduction to spirituality, yoga and philosophy at a young age, along the way they create something
uniquely their own, beautiful landscapes for your thoughts to roam
within.

Octava is their second album and like the Cradle before it’s emotional,
introspective, and unusual approach to spiritual jazz offers us a
beautiful space for uplifting contemplation and wields a quiet power to create a spiritually inspiring world of timeless, warm melodies and
instrumental exploration for the deep listener. Originally from
Washington DC area, Ford-Young moved to California in the early 90s
and fell in love with the deep sounds of the upright bass and the music of Charles Mingus, John and Alice Coltrane, and Duke Ellington along with Bach, Chopin, Pärt, and Satie. He immersed himself deeply in music and keen to learn combined intense personal study with
collaborations, tours, and recordings with artists such as Tom Waits,
Beats Antique, and John Vanderslice. In 2010 he moved from the SanFrancisco Bay area to the Los Angeles hills and continued his
explorations and although Phi-Psonics music has been described as
spiritual jazz, or deep immersive listening music but this is music for
fans of Radiohead and The Invisible as well as fans of Alice Coltrane
and Pharaoh Sanders.

The album opens with Invocation as we embark on our journey. The
repeated melody at the end feels ancient but also contains an energy
that is driving forward. An Offering is a humble but beautiful tune full of texture and colour. We Walk in the Gardens of Our Ancestors shows clear eyed reverence for those who came before us as we walk through their gardens. Green Dreams is a tender, gentle love song to Seth’s wife.Where We've Been Is a group improvisation centered around the drums. Lunar Reflections is a romantic ode to nature that draws inspiration from where Seth lives a green oasis within the sprawling cityscapes of LA. Becoming draws on memories of the dark days of 2020 but this was a period that was also full of beauty and light and this song elevates and uplifts us. Finally New You offers hope of change

A kind of hush pervades throughout Standards Vol VI, the latest release by The National Jazz Trio of Scotland, the ironically named project helmed by Falkirk’s musical polymath, Bill Wells, that is neither a trio, nor a jazz band. If this collection of ten covers probably comes closest to the latter in its late night renditions of actual standards, the presence of long-term NJToS member and collaborator Aby Vulliamy as the record’s lone vocalist adds to its solitary air. This follows Standards Vol IV (2018), which featured fellow NJToS co-founder Kate Sugden as primary vocalist, while Gerard Black, a member of the group since 2016, took centre stage in similar fashion on Standards Vol V (2019). Wells has long been a fan of Vulliamy, both of her work as a viola player with numerous collaborators, and as a singer.

Vulliamy played viola on Everything’s Getting Older, Wells’ 2011 collaboration with Arab Strap vocalist Aidan Moffat. Wells went on to play melodica on Vulliamy’s solo record, Spin Cycle, released on Karaoke Kalk in 2018. With the intent of producing the saddest heartbreak record ever made, Wells sourced a back catalogue of miniature epics, reinterpreting each tale of everyday yearning to make a canon of melancholy loungecore designed for nights in alone, if not always lonely. Beyond the concept of isolation behind Standards Vol VI, practical concerns added to the affair, with Wells recording backing tracks at home in Glasgow, while Vulliamy added her voice from her home in Yorkshire. The result on Standards Vol VI is a thing of quiet beauty that sees Wells and Vulliamy reimagine a panoply of pop classics in their own aloof sounding image.

Shades of Margo Guryan and Claudine Longet abound in Vulliamy’s delivery over Wells’ woozy, low-slung guitar and piano, with samples culled from a session with Teenage Fanclub’s Norman Blake. Little electronic percussive clicks and hisses lend things an even more otherworldly air on a record bookended by opener, Donovan’s proto hippy classic, Catch the Wind, and Dixieland miniature, Careless Love. The eight points in between take in a first half led by The Beatles’ normally jaunty We Can Work it Out, flipping the loveable mop-tops’ perky optimism for something more soul searching. This is followed by I Wish You Love, Albert Beach’s English language version of French songwriter Charles Trenet’s evergreen, Que reste-t-il de nos amours. The Bee Gees lost classic, To Love Somebody, is up next, with more impossible to answer questions coming in Why Can’t I?

The latter is a Rodgers and Hart composition that first appeared in the duo’s 1930 Broadway musical, Spring is Here, in which the show’s two heroines commiserate each other over their shared loneliness. Wells stumbled on the song in a tatty Rodgers and Hart songbook, which, like its subjects, had been left on the shelf before he and Vulliamy brought it in from the cold. The second half of Standards Vol VI leads with Matchmaker, Matchmaker, Jerry Bock and Sheldon Harnick’s much covered evocation of a pre dating app era from their 1964 hit musical, Fiddler on the Roof. This is followed by Billy Rose and Dave Dreyer’s showbiz staple (with Al Jolson also taking a credit), Me and My Shadow. While made famous by showbiz double acts ranging from Frank and Sammy to Robbie and Jonathan, here it flies decidedly solo. Johnny Mercer and Hoagy Carmichael’s Skylark comes next, a song inspired by Mercer’s yearning for Judy Garland. We hear ya, bub. The most downbeat take on Bacharach and David’s The Look of Love you’re ever likely to hear comes next, ushering in the short farewell of Careless Love, before the lights are turned out forever. Yeah, well. Whatever gets you through the night…

In the quiet surrounding the pandemic, Madeline Kenney made sonic sketches in the basement studio she shared with her then-partner. She arranged phrases that called her—the sharp knife of a synth cutting a path along a blooming arpeggio, drums stuttering firm and tight. Working this way, she amassed a collection of songs she had no particular aims for. Some formed her 2021 EP Summer Quarter, others languished.

But in 2022, Kenney’s partner left suddenly and without warning, plunging her into the solitary act of untangling what happened. In the wake of her ensuing depression, she revisited these songs and found in them something prescient. She’d already laid the foundation for A New Reality Mind.

That her relationship’s end came without warning is only half true, though. The warnings were in the feelings and fears that inspired Kenney’s critically-acclaimed third album, Sucker’s Lunch (2020), which was co-produced by Jenn Wasner (Flock of Dimes) and centered around the idea of flinging oneself freely into the seemingly-assured destruction of new love, come what may.

If sonically Sucker’s Lunch was letting yourself be pulled into the warm bath of a good story, A New Reality Mind reflects the harsh light of truth coming to break the spell. But as sobering as morning light can be, there’s brilliance to it, too. To see in the clarity of day is a gift. A revolution. Rather than reckoning with love lost, the songs on A New Reality Mind grapple with the self that chose to fall. “I guess I only needed to look twice / Reflected in my attitude, my constant compromise,” Kenney sings on “Red Emotion,” the musical landscape screeching and gasping around her observations of how she made herself small to keep the dream of love alive.

These notions of sight and vision pervade the record as Kenney stands before the infinity mirror of selves she’s been to preserve bonds in her life. On “I Drew a Line,” Kenney contends with the stories she’s told herself to keep plodding along, and the way those stories shape her perceived reality. She invokes John Berger’s Ways of Seeing—“Everything around the image is part of its meaning,” we hear him say. “Everything around it confirms and consolidates its meaning.” Here, Kenney isn’t interested in shaming herself for being carried away by the fantasies of the heart, but rather in investigating the unavoidably human propensity to do so. “I, like everyone else, am muddling through my most ordinary disaster of a life,” she acknowledges, a sentiment which reverberates through album opener “Plain Boring Disaster.” “I don’t need to start again,” she sings at the song’s close. “But I can change when it ends.” We may all be doomed to repetitive, ordinary heartbreaks, Kenney realizes, but at least we can cultivate a capacity to witness our missteps and build new realities for ourselves.

This is Kenney’s most expansive work, while also her most solitary. Produced and recorded alone in her basement, these songs are manifestations of what it feels like to be transformed by pain. Textures collide and collude; sonic ornaments emerge and dissipate capriciously; saxophones soar untamed, as on the 80s pop elegy to self-sacrifice, “Reality Mind”. These songs beg you to dance, then pull the rug out from under you once you’ve caught the beat, leaving you dizzy like the whiplash of love’s end.

But in the propulsive power of A New Reality Mind, there’s also acceptance, self-forgiveness, and a willingness to move forward into life, with all its ways of making a sucker of you. “That way of living, I’m over it,” Kenney declares of the habits that hold her back on “Superficial Conversation”. “I do not need to be reminded of what I did,” she assures, the song opening wide and beaming, like a smile expanding to taste a new breath of air.

Robin Saville - one half of the influential duo ISAN - returns to Morr Music with »Lore«, his fourth solo album to date. After 2020’s »Build A Diorama«, the British musician takes his love for field recordings, whirring pads, hovering bells and subtle electronics further, adding extra depth to both his sonic palette and his storytelling, focussing on biological diversity and its implications for human life.

For many years now, ›look and listen‹ has been Robin Saville's motto on his regular environmental explorations. The avid ambler does not just enjoy being out and about in nature; it is an important inspiration for his creative work as well. Sounds, smells, colours and even soil properties add to the experience. Equipped with a microphone and a recording device, Saville documents his strolls, using these recordings as a base for his compositions. »The field recordings on the album were made very locally this time, for obvious reasons,« he says. Welcome to the sonic landscape of the UK's East Anglia.

»Judith Avenue«, the opening track, is a great example of how Saville evolved his perspective on the sounds of nature: »It is a residential street, fading into a scrubby, wild landscape. There, I made a recording of nightingales at dusk. Such romantic birds! The males fly here from Africa a couple of weeks ahead of the females. They find a good territory, and at dusk, when all the other birds are going quiet, they start to sing to tempt the females down from their migratory flight paths. This has happened for thousands of years. However, the patch of ground where I made the recordings is earmarked for development and I don't suppose it'll happen there again. The recordings therefore become part of the history of that place, the lore.«

Recording the sounds of nature and enriching them with electronic sorcery, Saville is not only a documenting preservationist; he also translates these recordings into meaningful musical miniatures. Building on the soundscapes that marked his previous LP »Build A Diorama«, »Lore« is dominated by both open-hearted melancholy and more upbeat rhythms. But even when the music sounds quirky and loose, there is always deeper meaning. The album is characterised by an ever present melancholy about the threatening loss of living spaces, and a celebration of their beauty. This simultaneity turns the tracks into existential meditations about our human habitat. Saville enriches our lives musically by addressing the very issues we often ignore. At the same time, he becomes an agent of hope and change. Moving between light and dark, »Lore« is a musical allegory of where we stand today.

»The album is a document of places and times and while it is certainly a celebration of those things, it is also a record of things we are losing. That's how interaction with nature feels to me nowadays: something precious and amazing, but with an underlying sadness about the destructive relationship that humanity seems inevitably to have with the world around it.«

Let's not lose any more things.

Lost soul phenomenon Lewis Taylor's Numb finally arrives on double vinyl! One of UK soul’s most fascinating artists, most enigmatic figures and most under-appreciated talents, Andrew Lewis Taylor is a prodigious multi-instrumentalist and eclectic polymath. He enjoys a fiercely loyal following which, over the years, has included celebrity champions like Bowie, Elton and D'Angelo. Numb is Taylor's sixth album, initially released on his own label Slow Reality (an anagram of his name) and licensed to Be With for this long-awaited physical edition. It captures Taylor's wholly unique, intoxicating take on lush, late-night psychedelic soul music.

Lewis wrote and recorded these 10 brand new tracks after a 17 year break from making music, although the album came together over a two-year period. The years away have done nothing to dull Taylor's unique musical vision. He still astounds. The lyrical themes, however, have shifted. Understandably, more than a decade and a half of soul searching and unflinching self-examination cannot fail to influence this most honest of songwriters, and boy does it show. Numb marks a return to the darker, more mysterious side of his output: "Brian Wilson-channels-Smokey Robinson atmospheres", as Mojo put it recently.

After playing a rapturously received gig at the Bowery Ballroom in NYC in 2006, Lewis unceremoniously walked away from music and disappeared completely. An interview in 2016 shed light on some of the reasons for Taylor’s withdrawal from the business, but there was no hint of a return anytime soon. Then in June 2021, news emerged out of the blue that he was readying new music alongside Sabina Smyth with whom he had worked first time around.

On Numb, Lewis deftly balances stark, soul-bearing lyrics with moody mid-tempo pop-soul sheen. He deals candidly with depression, mental turmoil, even thoughts of suicide - clearly more personal than Taylor's earlier songs. The music is rich, warm and layered, with infectious melodies and hooks that stick with you. A true grower of an LP, it really does reward repeated listens. As Jim Irvin in Mojo reflected, "despite the depths these plumb, it's a curiously uplifting experience, unfurling like a concept album about life's challenges with an optimistic beauty at its heart."

Triumphant dubwise horns ring out yet, almost instantly, “Final Hour” takes on a dark, downbeat vibe. With lyrics that confront (and, seemingly, confound) death head-on, Lewis ensures the groove is still there, the beats still swing and your head still nods, strings glissade. Woven around delicate yet insistent piano and subtle strings over a killer bassline, the title track “Numb” is a good example of the lyrical themes throughout the album. As Taylor reflects, "So removed I feel no pain / And for all I know I could be having the time of my life" with a coda that feels very much in conversation with Brian Wilson's finest harmonies. "Feels So Good" is sophisticated 90s-sounding soul of the highest order. The music and vocals feel simultaneously optimistic and despondent. Downlifting. A neat trick, and one Lewis has been so adept at over the years. "Apathy" is a mini-epic, a symphonic-soul gem which builds and glides and, eventually, soars. “Worried Mind" is another slow-builder, creeping out the gate in a sketchy, discordant fashion before climbing to half-crescendo but never quite breaking free of its disorientating restraint.

The brighter "Please" presents a more hopeful mood, with the refrain "I still believe" ringing out as Lewis harmonises with himself. "Brave Heart" quietly struts from step one, as Lewis's falsetto swaggers over a downtempo backdrop with ace echoey drums, beautiful strings and serene electric guitar. Closing out Side C, "Is It Cool" answers its own (non-) question with a spellbinding five and a half minutes of swoonsome deep soul that oscillates between a restrained, barely-there backdrop and a lushly full musical accompaniment of acoustic and electric guitar and organ over bass and slick drums. The penultimate track "Nearer" is a magical, soul-stirring ballad in which Lewis sings of reaching a sweet salvation and achieving a peace of mind. If the hairs on the back of your neck aren't standing up by the midway point, you might need to check your pulse. Album closer and true tear-jerker "Being Broken" places Lewis's gorgeous voice high in the mix and the wordless falsetto and melodies invite you to ponder what Pet Sounds might sound like if it were refashioned as a dubby 21st Century electronic soul album. Astonishing.

Simon Francis’s vinyl mastering spreads out the ten tracks over a double LP so, as ever, nothing is compromised. And as usual, the records have been cut by Cicely Balston at Air Studios and pressed at Record Industry. Turn it up and let the Lewis Taylor sound envelop you.

Bone colour vinyl version of the recently released album (CD was released in May). Produced by Rick Rubin, this is a full bodied collection that flows like a stream of conscious journey through the psychedelic dark depths of the human psyche followed by basking in the cleansing light when finally reaching the surface. Continued promo/marketing activity.

Bound To Rise is the quietly impressive debut album from Yorkshireman Chris Brain. His songs have a gentleness and ethereality, enhanced by his softly husky, smoky vocals coupled with delicate finger-picked guitar patterns based around his alternate tunings.

The self-composed songs draw on the pastoral and the traditional, heavily centred in natural imagery featuring both as itself and as allegory. A misty ambiguity, suggestions of layered meaning and hints of multiple interpretations permeate the lyrics. And darker moods throw long shadows across this landscape.

A pre-dawn longing for the sun in title track ‘Bound To Rise’ seems to obliquely evoke springtime, primitive beliefs and lifting mood. ‘Bird Count’ is another daybreak song hinting at other, more intimate, preoccupations, “calling out your name / never to be tame”.

‘Chance To See’ celebrates the emotional significance of a relationship, and it’s easy to interpret ‘Golden Eagle’ as its flipside partner, “but you can’t choose her, she chooses you” – or maybe it’s simply a song about birdwatching. ‘Flying On Time’ continues with rare sightings paired with impressions of human air travel and distance, “she’s due tonight / just for one night / to visit our skies”.

Non-specific doubt and uncertainty edgily patrol ‘If I Could’, whilst the cheerfully pattering guitar motif of ‘Peace And Quiet’ belies an inner melancholy, and ‘Rare Find’ charmingly bookends Mary Jane Walker’s plangent violin and Simeon Walker’s subtle piano.

‘Sunday Morn’ “lays the week to rest” amongst other things but, despite the laid-back vibe, all is not sunny and “melancholy calls to greet us once more”. Brain’s songs are intriguing shifts of light and shade, and the details improve with each listen.

Coming full circle thematically, the joyous simplicity of expression in ‘Sun Song’ makes it close kin to the mighty Bright Phoebus, “the sun was born and she’s beautiful / the sun was born from the ground”. It’s an optimistic ending to an emotionally ambiguous album.

Influenced by, among others, Nick Drake, John Martyn and Joni Mitchell, it’s not hard to see where Chris Brain is coming from. More interesting is where he’s going to. Bound To Rise makes a very promising start.

A long side from Win in his Hardfloor kick-changes psychedelic roughtness...
A Kvasir kind of same vibe thick fat kicker... (dare playing it at 45 : you will get an Enrbyoneer feeling)
Extra one is Pijlen and a lightspeed driver psychedelic 70's synths sound...
A1 here is the last you can listen, probably because it's a short tune (2min) and not a bad one... Ambient intro to place some XP in this already quiet XP record :)

ENJOY !

"Home Again: Carole King Live In Central Park" dokumentiert Carole Kings außergewöhnliches Talent bei einem der wichtigsten Konzerte ihrer Karriere, das am 26. Mai 1973 im Central Park in ihrer Heimatstadt New York aufgezeichnet wurde

Black Truffle is pleased to announce Down On Darkened Meetings, the first solo release on the label from the quietly prolific Giuseppe Ielasi. Recorded at Ielasi’s studio in Monza outside of Milan over two days in February 2022, the seven pieces presented here continue the renewed exploration of the guitar that marks much of his solo work over the last few years. Emerging in the late 1990s as an improviser working primarily with prepared acoustic and electric guitars, the instrument became less prominent in his work over the next decade, ceding to loop-based constructs that would eventually split into abstracted takes on club music and hip-hop (including his work as Inventing Masks), on the one hand, and spectral electroacoustic explorations (such as the stunning triple disc 3 pauses), on the other. Returning to the guitar in recent years, he has approached the instrument as a source of shimmering metallic glissandi (Five Wooden Frames) or as the vehicle of elegiac double-tracked lines that feel almost like Frisell playing Feldman (The Return). Here the focus is on electric guitar filtered, looped, and splayed out into fields of irregular echoes through a bank of pedals. Like many of Ielasi’s releases, Down On Darkened Meetings is structured as a set of short untitled pieces (here ranging between two and six minutes in length) that single-mindedly explore a single instrument or source throughout. The opening track immediately introduced the distinctive timbral world of fizzing, heavily filtered tones, chiming harmonics, and woozy looping bass figures inhabited throughout. At points it becomes near impossible to trace these sounds to the strings of an electric guitar; at others, as on the final two pieces, the instrument is unmistakable, as Ielasi builds up his shifting loops from snatches of almost unintentional sounding half-playing that give these closing tracks a hushed, private atmosphere reminiscent of Tolerance’s Anonym. While the repeating chords and hanging melodic figures present on many tracks call to mind earlier Ielasi classics like Gesine and Untitled, here the music feels less meticulously constructed than played: Ielasi’s lyrical guitar lines obscured by a battery of effects at times come across like a dilated take on the outer-fringe fretwork of improvisers like Henry Kaiser and Raymond Boni, and the muddy, asynchronous fields of pops and hiss at times wander into areas reminiscent of the hand-played dub techno of Vladislav Delay’s Multila. Like much of Ielasi’s work in recent years, these seven pieces perform a delicate balancing act: between abstraction and immediacy, austerity and abundance. Imbued with Ielasi’s distinctive lightness of touch, considered approach to pacing, and subtly psychedelic approach to the stereo field, Down on Darkened Meetings is a major new work from a quiet master of contemporary experimental music.

New York painter and musician exploratory industrialist Tor Lundvall initially envisioned his 14th album, Beautiful Illusions, as an entirely instrumental affair, "inspired by memories of sitting in a church or cathedral watching the shifting sunlight through stained glass." Although he ultimately chose to wreath the majority of the tracks with hushed, poetic vocals, his original muse still resonates. These are certainly songs of shadowplay and vaulted skies, the quiet grandeur of dusk deepening on the horizon. Lundvall characterizes the lyrical subject matter, too, in ways both specific and surreal, exploring "the doubts, the anxieties and even the bleak fantasies the mind spirals into during moments of isolation, separation and distance." Tricks of the eye, mind, and ear, magnified by silence and the looming long winter. Shivering pulses and muted bass lines tread the twilight while icicle synths and wiry guitar map the melody until the voice enters, narrating oblique moods of essence and absence, tenderness and truth. Glimpses of dark humor flicker in the wordplay but the greater sonic landscape is one of falling leaves and failing light, small gestures rendered as revelation, cloaked in reverb and spatial fog. Lundvall's mastery of nuance and negative space continues to heighten, whispered brushstrokes of the invisible and the unsaid, what lies beneath and what lies beyond: "Behind the shields and false fronts is usually a sadness. The heartbreaking reflections of what might have been."

Repress!

Using an old door, 17 strings, chopsticks and combining them with phasers, echo units and amplification, the new device was to become his signature sound, mixing Irish folk influences with Asian and North African sounds in a mesmerising and soulful new way that brought him to the attention of the leading improvisers of his day - Alice Coltrane, Ravi Shankar, Don Cherry and more.

A logical follow up to AllChival's recent reissue of Stano's debut LP, Michael O'Shea's self titled LP was originally released on Wire's Dome Imprint in 1982.

The background to the album is as interesting and inspiring as the artist who created it - born in Northern Ireland but raised in the Republic, O'Shea was keen to travel and escape the troubles of his home.

Wandering throughout Europe and the Middle East, O'Shea found himself living and working as a relief aid in Bangladesh in the mid Seventies where he learned to play sitar while recovering from a bout of hepatitis. A later period spent busking in France accompanied on zelochord by Algerian musician Kris Hosylan Harp led to O'Shea's idea of combining both instruments as a homebuilt instrument - Mo Chara (Irish for "My Friend").

He later described the process on the back of the LP himself saying:

"Having sold my sitar in Germany and being desperate for money to travel to Turkey, I conceived of the idea of combining both sitar and zelochord. The first Mo Cara was born, taken from the middle of a door, which was rescued from a skip in Munchen"

A combination of dulcimer, zelochord and sitar, O Shea would play it with a pair of chopsticks, striking the strings softly using Irish folk rhythms mixed with the rich, nostalgic sounds of of the many Asian artists he'd encountered on his travels.

It was a pan cultural sound standing at an unusual crossroads of folk, traditional, rock, progressive, jazz, electronic and post-punk worlds without hesitation.

Perfecting the instrument on the streets, there were further spells spent busking in the underground stations and cafes of London's West End and Covent Garden during the heady days of the 1970s when they were full of eccentric street entertainers, jazz improvisers and musical pioneers.

His work with Rick Wakeman never saw the light of day but O'Shea's contact with the world of post-punk London ensured his name would live on.

Introduced to Wire's Bruce Gilbert and Graham Lewis via cartoonist Tom Johnston, O'Shea eventually acquiesced to an open invite to record at their studio. Turning up unannounced in the summer of 1981 the LP was recorded in a day in the legendary Blackwing Studios and released on Dome the year after.

The first side features the fifteen minute masterpiece "No Journeys End" with the B side featuring more input from Wire in processing the Mo Chara sound.

Lewis himself said years later of the forgotten masterpiece: 'I always said it was the best job we ever did.'

After an aborted LP with The The's Matt Johnson the following year, O'Shea quietly disappeared from the formal recording world and his brief but unique contribution to the music world came to a sad end in 1991 when O'Shea was struck by a post van and died a few days later in hospital in London.

This repress on All City's AllChival imprint has been remastered and reissued with the approval of both Dome and his surviving siblings.

A gorgeous and gripping portrait of Fenne's last two years, Big Picture was pieced together in an effort to self-soothe. Tracked live in co-producer Brad Cook's North Carolina studio, the album delineates the phases of love and becomes a map of comfort vs claustrophobia. Though its creation took place amid personal and global turmoil, the ruminative yet candid Big Picture is Fenne's most cohesive, resolute work to date, both lyrically and sonically. "This isn't a sad album _ it's about as uplifting as my way of doing things will allow," she says. "These songs explore worry and doubt and letting go, but those themes are framed brightly." With confidence and quiet strength, each track provides an insight into Fenne's ever-changing view of love and, ultimately, its redefinition _ love as a process, not something to be lost and found. While the album was written alone in Fenne's Bristol flat - a fact intentionally reflected in its compact sonic quality - Big Picture was transformed from a solitary venture into a unifying collaboration during the recording process when she was joined by her touring band, Melina Dutere of Jay Som (mixing), Christian Lee Hutson (guitar and co production), and Katy Kirby (vocals). Notably, these 10 songs are Fenne's first and only to have been written over the course of a relationship; 2018's On Hold and 2020's BREACH both confront the pain of retrospection, saying goodbye to a love that's gone. Big Picture does the exact opposite _ rooted firmly in the present, it traces the narrative of two people trying their hardest not to implode, together. "This album is an observation of the way I think about love, the selfexamination that comes with closeness and the responsibilities involved in being a big part of someone else's small(er) world," summarizes Fenne. "It was written in a place of relative emotional stability - stability that felt unstable because of its newness, but also because of the global context. 2020 was the year of letting go, but we'd all already let go of so much and nothing felt like mine anymore. Writing always did, though, so that's what I chose to do."

ULTRAMARINE VINYL

A gorgeous and gripping portrait of Fenne's last two years, Big Picture was pieced together in an effort to self-soothe. Tracked live in co-producer Brad Cook's North Carolina studio, the album delineates the phases of love and becomes a map of comfort vs claustrophobia. Though its creation took place amid personal and global turmoil, the ruminative yet candid Big Picture is Fenne's most cohesive, resolute work to date, both lyrically and sonically. "This isn't a sad album _ it's about as uplifting as my way of doing things will allow," she says. "These songs explore worry and doubt and letting go, but those themes are framed brightly." With confidence and quiet strength, each track provides an insight into Fenne's ever-changing view of love and, ultimately, its redefinition _ love as a process, not something to be lost and found. While the album was written alone in Fenne's Bristol flat - a fact intentionally reflected in its compact sonic quality - Big Picture was transformed from a solitary venture into a unifying collaboration during the recording process when she was joined by her touring band, Melina Dutere of Jay Som (mixing), Christian Lee Hutson (guitar and co production), and Katy Kirby (vocals). Notably, these 10 songs are Fenne's first and only to have been written over the course of a relationship; 2018's On Hold and 2020's BREACH both confront the pain of retrospection, saying goodbye to a love that's gone. Big Picture does the exact opposite _ rooted firmly in the present, it traces the narrative of two people trying their hardest not to implode, together. "This album is an observation of the way I think about love, the selfexamination that comes with closeness and the responsibilities involved in being a big part of someone else's small(er) world," summarizes Fenne. "It was written in a place of relative emotional stability - stability that felt unstable because of its newness, but also because of the global context. 2020 was the year of letting go, but we'd all already let go of so much and nothing felt like mine anymore. Writing always did, though, so that's what I chose to do."

Tape

A gorgeous and gripping portrait of Fenne's last two years, Big Picture was pieced together in an effort to self-soothe. Tracked live in co-producer Brad Cook's North Carolina studio, the album delineates the phases of love and becomes a map of comfort vs claustrophobia. Though its creation took place amid personal and global turmoil, the ruminative yet candid Big Picture is Fenne's most cohesive, resolute work to date, both lyrically and sonically. "This isn't a sad album _ it's about as uplifting as my way of doing things will allow," she says. "These songs explore worry and doubt and letting go, but those themes are framed brightly." With confidence and quiet strength, each track provides an insight into Fenne's ever-changing view of love and, ultimately, its redefinition _ love as a process, not something to be lost and found. While the album was written alone in Fenne's Bristol flat - a fact intentionally reflected in its compact sonic quality - Big Picture was transformed from a solitary venture into a unifying collaboration during the recording process when she was joined by her touring band, Melina Dutere of Jay Som (mixing), Christian Lee Hutson (guitar and co production), and Katy Kirby (vocals). Notably, these 10 songs are Fenne's first and only to have been written over the course of a relationship; 2018's On Hold and 2020's BREACH both confront the pain of retrospection, saying goodbye to a love that's gone. Big Picture does the exact opposite _ rooted firmly in the present, it traces the narrative of two people trying their hardest not to implode, together. "This album is an observation of the way I think about love, the selfexamination that comes with closeness and the responsibilities involved in being a big part of someone else's small(er) world," summarizes Fenne. "It was written in a place of relative emotional stability - stability that felt unstable because of its newness, but also because of the global context. 2020 was the year of letting go, but we'd all already let go of so much and nothing felt like mine anymore. Writing always did, though, so that's what I chose to do."

There's something intangible about Celeste, the Soundcarriers’ second album, originally released in 2010. It has a light, lucid quality, almost like driving exhausted through a strange city at night. Freeflowing yet tethered, dreamy yet attacking, the band continue the fight to reconcile competing impulses. Various threads just about keep the shimmering tapestry from tearing. Haunting folk melodies underpinned by rhythmic static and the physicality of the totally analogue recording and mixing, baroque keyboard counterpoints and sweeping arrangements. The opener “Last Broadcast” seems to encapsulate this but it's almost as if the album gets the angst out of its system with this track and is free to explore the quieter, less crowded back streets. After the smoke of “Last Broadcast” has cleared, the twisting road takes in the soft introspection of “Hideaway” and “Morning Haze”, both tracks morphing into heavy psyche grooves or the eastern tinged psyche funk of “Signals” and “Rise And Fall”. Or takes another turn with the tightly arranged opening segment of “Long Highway”. Somehow it still manages to fit in ‘60s pop gems like “There Only Once”. An album to really lose yourself in, yet more concise than the sprawling Harmonium and more relaxed and freeflowing than the nervy rush of Entropicalia, Celeste could be arguably their most indispensable album and not to damn it with faint praise, their most listenable.

On Labyrinth, Heather Woods Broderick serves as our reflective host, subverting expectations of conventional songcraft with impressionistic language and quietly relentless explorations of the human experience that's at once light and dark, more circular and less linear. "Many of us yearn for stillness and peace, as an escape from the movement all around us," she explains when asked about the themes of the album. "Yet movement is perpetual, happening all the time on some level. It's as wild as the wind, yet eternally predictable in its inevitability. It is linear in part, but infinite in its circuitry. Our lives just punctuate it." Broderick began crafting Labyrinth in March 2020, when most forms of move- ment were brought to a screeching halt. The Maine-born, Los Angeles-based songwriter _ who, in addition to her work as a solo musician, built a life playing and touring with acts such as Sharon Van Etten, Beth Orton, Damien Jurado, and Efterklang _ was suddenly forced off the road for the first time in her career. She used this disruption as an opportunity to pare down her creation process and construct the scaffolding for Labyrinth in her apartment. Employing only the most crucial tools at her disposal, Broderick found herself opening different artistic doors as she focused on sharpening her recording skills, capturing the majority of the album on her own before finishing the remainder with co-producer D. James Goodwin. For all of Broderick's sage lyricism and vocal authority, Labyrinth never provides the listener with any easy answers. If the image of the labyrinth represents the enormity of modern life and the difficulty of navigating it, Heather Woods Broder- ick provides a guide to its endless kinetic wonders _ of being present, aware, and connected despite its disconnects. She describes the texture of its walls, its indifferent rhythms, and the inherent poeticism of feeling lost amid the dead-ends and unexpected turns. At this point in our history, perhaps that's all we need to keep moving.

Grey Vinyl

On Labyrinth, Heather Woods Broderick serves as our reflective host, subverting expectations of conventional songcraft with impressionistic language and quietly relentless explorations of the human experience that's at once light and dark, more circular and less linear. "Many of us yearn for stillness and peace, as an escape from the movement all around us," she explains when asked about the themes of the album. "Yet movement is perpetual, happening all the time on some level. It's as wild as the wind, yet eternally predictable in its inevitability. It is linear in part, but infinite in its circuitry. Our lives just punctuate it." Broderick began crafting Labyrinth in March 2020, when most forms of move- ment were brought to a screeching halt. The Maine-born, Los Angeles-based songwriter _ who, in addition to her work as a solo musician, built a life playing and touring with acts such as Sharon Van Etten, Beth Orton, Damien Jurado, and Efterklang _ was suddenly forced off the road for the first time in her career. She used this disruption as an opportunity to pare down her creation process and construct the scaffolding for Labyrinth in her apartment. Employing only the most crucial tools at her disposal, Broderick found herself opening different artistic doors as she focused on sharpening her recording skills, capturing the majority of the album on her own before finishing the remainder with co-producer D. James Goodwin. For all of Broderick's sage lyricism and vocal authority, Labyrinth never provides the listener with any easy answers. If the image of the labyrinth represents the enormity of modern life and the difficulty of navigating it, Heather Woods Broder- ick provides a guide to its endless kinetic wonders _ of being present, aware, and connected despite its disconnects. She describes the texture of its walls, its indifferent rhythms, and the inherent poeticism of feeling lost amid the dead-ends and unexpected turns. At this point in our history, perhaps that's all we need to keep moving.

Death Cab For Cutie haben es geschafft mit ihrer dritten Platte einen Klassiker des "Quiet Rock" zu veröffentlichen. "Transatlanticism" ist all das, was wir zur Zeit an Rockmusik lieben. Seitdem das Klavier bei Rockmusik wieder mitmachen darf. Große Melodiebögen, die erst nach dem dritten Mal ihre Schönheit offenbaren, leuchtende Ernsthaftigkeit. Eine herrliche Platte. "Transatlanticism" beginnt mit dem Satz : "So this is the new year!" Jedes Mal wenn man diese Platte auflegt ist Neujahr, 4 Minuten nach 00:00 Uhr. Die Band hat die Option, uns durch das ganze Jahr zu begleiten. Mit ihrer Schönheit, Melodie, Vielschichtigkeit... Death Cab for Cutie haben sich 1997 in Bellingham/Washington gegründet. Der Sänger Benjamin Gibbard, dessen Stimme vielen durch sein Wirken bei der Sub Pop-Band Postal Service bekannt sein dürfte, wird von seiner Band - Christopher Walla (Gitarre), Nicholas Harmer ( Bass) und Michael Schorr (Schlagzeug) - durch dieses Album getragen. Wenn Sie schon mal ein wenig verliebt waren, dann hören Sie auf das Titelstück. Das epische 7:55 min lange "Transatlanticism". Und er singt:" I need you so much closer! So come on!"

For over 30 years Richard Adams has been quietly documenting his own particular corner of the English countryside both with Hood, the post-rock band he formed with his brother in 1991, and since 2007 with The Declining Winter. Recorded over a five year period and inspired by rustic English alternatives such as Talk Talk and Robert Wyatt, The Declining Winter’s latest work ‘Really Early, Really Late’ is a collection of beautiful songs, immersed in a richer sonic spectrum incorporating strings, horns and lush electronic textures, alongside Adams’ own unique guitar tones and characteristic dubby bass. Though it retains the homespun scratchiness of previous The Declining Winter records, ‘Really Early, Really Late’ is also their most ornate. A remotely collaborative effort, the record is scattered with decorative embellishments from violinist Sarah Kemp (Brave Timbers), cellist Peter Hollo (Tangents), and guitarist Ben Holton (epic45), among many others. Adams’ distorted whisper of a voice has never been more exposed leading to a brutally emotive and intensely personal song-suite, both raw and beautiful in equal measure. The storybook curiosity of Mark Hollis’ work is a particular influence. Like Hollis, this music is imbued with magical realism: beholden to nature, it hints at the mysteries lurking in mundane local landscapes and the more remote Yorkshire moors and valleys. A record to hold close to your heart, ‘Really Early, Really Late’ sees Adams and his collaborators emerge from the shadows with their most complete work to date. Home Assembly are proud to present the album on lush crystal clear, double vinyl, bundled with a CD housed in an oversized vinyl-style sleeve.

MONO have long drawn equal inspiration from the light and dark of life, spawning more than two decades of musical turbulence and melodic transcendence. Heaven Vol. 1 marks the beginning of a new annual tradition from MONO: A new EP released on Christmas Day each year, leaning into the light at precisely the time when we need it the most - surrounded by loved ones and hopeful for what the turn of the calendar may bring us. Recorded by Takaakira `Taka' Goto at his home studio in Japan (with drums recorded by Amak Golden at Golden Hive Studio in Prague) - and mixed by Rafael Anton Irisarri and Jeremy deVine at Black Knoll Studio in New York - Heaven Vol. 1 finds MONO at their most hopeful and cinematic. Of each of Heaven Vol. 1's three tracks, MONO offers these words: Lucia: "This song was written when our beloved longtime partner Jeremy (the owner of our American label Temporary Residence Ltd.) welcomed his second child. The song is constructed with two parts; the first part celebrates the birth of a new life and the second part heads towards dreams and hope. We wrote this song with the feeling of Santa Claus riding a sleigh through the snowstorm, smiling, jumping into the swirl of pure white light and carrying many dreams." Smile: "We drew upon the snowy scenery of Christmas that we experienced when we were young. Your exhaled breath is white. Your heart is dancing in the endless silvery white world, and when you are about to grab the snow with your hands and turn around, your parents look back at you with a smile. We wrote this song whilst remembering moments like this." Silent Embrace: "Time passed and we became adults. Life is like climbing and descending many steep mountains, but the reason we're still able to continue walking is because of our loved ones, colleagues, friends and family who quietly stand by us and giving us courage and strength. We wanted to express our gratitude with this song." Limited (220 copies ww) Single Colour (Purple Vinyl) Edition!

It's often a good sign when one of your favorite musicians steps out from beyond the studio walls and past the stage lights to fulfill their own inspired and creative intent. And Caíto Sánchez is not just a favorite musician, but as his lengthy resume as a sideman shows, he's also one of your favorite musicians' favorite musicians, constantly working without fanfare as an essential ingredient in a larger music feast. Sánchez earned his stripes in the 2000s and beyond as a key session player and an integral touring band member, a quiet standout even among many oversized personalities. A dedicated drummer born in Panama and living in New York, Sánchez is quite capable of keeping time for legends like Charles Bradley, Lee Fields, and Brian Jackson, as well as supporting eclectic outfits like the live groups of Quantic, Chico Mann and Midnight Magic. For all the players who have shared a stage or studio with him it comes as no real surprise, and frankly as a long overdue development, that such a unique artistic force is finally stepping into the spotlight.

With this debut single we get a glimpse into Sánchez's creative and artistic personal space, more precisely a multi-instrumental discipline of not only drums, but also bass, guitar and lead voice. It's an intensely intimate recording debut, a fantastic studio concoction born from the heart of its creator, and later fostered and mixed down by the talented hands of NYCT and Daptone veteran Victor Axelrod. The defining result on this initial 7-inch offering are two heavy psychedelic and moody nuggets of rock enespañol, a decidedly new wave of sounds and style that are quite capable of shining on their own.