Buscar:re work

There are few Jamaican Artists with such an impressive career as George Dekker. For his brand new studio solo album Right To Be Here George Dekker has teamed up with renowned producers Mafia and
Fluxi. The Heywood Brothers Leroy (Mafia) & Dave (Fluxy) have been producing, remixing and touring for over 35 years now and have worked with a very impressive list of artists over the years ranging from touring with James Brown, Maxi Priest to doing remixes for Janet Jackson, Sting, Gypsy Kings and more.

On L'arte della persuasione, he fuses two worlds with the full force of a beautiful blow. The result is captivatingly unclassifiable. Although Thormodsaeter composed L'arte della persuasione, the score provides the musicians with permissions to act spontaneously. The work will thus never sound the exact same way twice.

They grew closer as restrictions dropped away and audiences grew, using the shifts to experiment with their material and reach more expansive and formidable levels. The final product is a landmine of sound, inspired by the raw, sweeping fuzz of the likes of Sonic Youth and The Jesus and Mary Chain. Familiar elements of noughties era guitar shine through, confronted with cutting contemporary angst to create a nostalgic yet intoxicating sound. As the band's confidence grew through their live shows they were liberated, taking all they had learnt in order to begin working on "a lot more cohesive and bigger sounding" project

Born from a will to connect with people and get out in to the world again, 'Out of the Rain' will be Blair's first studio album since his 2018 release. Produced by Jim Moray (Jackie Oates, Wheeler Street, James Raynard) the record is more positive than his previous work. A celebration of spring, newness, and freedom. Songs of metamorphosis and widescreen road trips prevail. "It's been 5 years since my last record, comfortably my longest gap between releases, so it feels really good to be able to put this out in the world.

Deluxe 180g vinyl. Art Edition LP includes set of six 12”x12” art cards.



The follow-up to Kee Avil's acclaimed 2022 debut Crease: "A stunning debut" (The Quietus); "A whiplash style of uninhibited exploration" (The Wire); "Kee Avil's debut is a force" (Foxy Digitalis); "A work of Frankensteinian wonder" (Electronic Sound); "A tightly coiled, finely wrought vision of avant-pop" (Exclaim); "A debut of fiendish creativity" (Bandcamp Album Of The Day / Albums Of The Year) Kee Avil's music is both adventurous and intimate, intellectually challenging and emotionally resonant. The Montréal guitarist and producer's 2022 debut LP Crease garnered plaudits from outlets like The Wire, The Quietus, Mojo and Foxy Digitalis, picking up a Canadian Juno Award nomination and Bandcamp Album Of The Day and Albums Of The Year along the way. Its intricate construction, unnerving atmospheres, and knife-edge take on avant-pop prompted comparisons to early PJ Harvey, This Heat, and Gazelle Twin. A remix EP with work by claire rousay, Ami Dang, Cecile Believe, and Pelada brought collaborative perspectives to four Crease tracks, offering new pathways within those songs. With Spine, Kee Avil strips back her heavily textured compositions, opening up a much rawer sound. She calls it folk… and while traditionalists might scoff, this is urgent music that reflects the precarity of modern life, as well as the jarring mixture of electronic and real-world interactions that have become the fabric of our day-to-day experiences. There's a hypnotic post-punk somnambulance to it all, using the repetition and fracturing of melodic phrases interwoven with delicate electronics to create curious and persistent hooks. While not a concept album, themes of time's passage, remembrance, and decay crop up across multiple tracks. Each track intentionally only has four elements - guitar, electronics, and two other instruments, with Kee's voice and guitar pushed to the front. Within this minimalist framework, the juxtaposition of beauty and discomfort that is key to the Kee Avil sound stands out in skin-prickling relief. "We're shaped by many versions of ourselves," says Avil. "I was looking back at these versions of myself and what could have been, what didn't end up being and what did end up being, and going back like that through time. Seeing the future, the past." Spine was written in Kee Avil's home studio after a lapse in writing while touring Crease and working on other projects. She is a well-known and respected member of the Montréal experimental scene, and formerly ran Concrete Sound Studio with Zach Scholes, who continues to work with her as a producer on Spine. Compared to the three years that went into making her debut, Spine emerged in a matter of months - a process that may also be a factor in its intensity and sharpness: "This record was much harder, like it was really discovering everything from scratch." In her desire to not simply replicate or extend the sound of Crease, she felt she had to rip up the rule book, write in a different way, and pare back songs against her usual instincts. Sometimes, when we work against our ingrained habits, we get to the core of who we really are. Spine is an exercise in that process. Without over-intellectualizing or being didactic, it hits immediately and emotionally, especially if you are a person who has spent much time in the process of self-examination. Kee's voice hisses, whispers, and chants; her guitar bends and rings; electronics skitter and crackle; violin creaks like a door in the wind. There is something so evocative about the atmospheres she creates that it's easy to overlay one's own feelings onto her work, but to do that wholly would be to overlook one of the most important things about Spine: Kee Avil's clear and thoughtful vision. This isn't just the next step forward in her artistic trajectory; it's a stunner of a record that stands on its own, a bracing and thrilling listen that has much to reveal about the contradictions inherent in being human. - jj skolnik

With Folksong Distortions, Pauwels and Van der Aa create a journey of lament through the soul of times gone by. Their radical renditions of works by Larry Polansky and Christopher Trapanido not distort the more upbeat rhythm and tradition of folk songs, but rather reveal and highlight the essence of hard lives, imposed choices - choices that were illusions in the first place - and the difficult times and conditions they have always depicted.

Christopher Trapani arranged two classics from the U.S. South, effects. The work, developed in collaboration with Tom Pauwels and Liesa Van der Aa, was originally made and featured on ICTUS' American Lament programme. The duo was given considerable room for improvisation and interpretation in the process. The first song, 'Wayfaring Stranger', is a well-known folk/gospel melody in A minor. The lyrics contrast an aimless journey through a harsh, hostile world, with the Christian promise of heaven as a 'home' and reunion with lost loved ones. The second song, 'Freight Train', was written by Elizabeth Cotten, a left-handed guitarist who held her guitar upside down, resulting in a very recognisable strumming style.

Sweet Betsy from Pike and Eskimo Lullaby are taken from Larry Polansky's 2005 'Songs and Toads', a five-section piece that computer-composed pieces. The work was originally written for guitar, more specifically for the national steel guitar, refretted in a specific intonation designed by Lou Harrison. Each piece explores a different guitar tuning. A significant intervention to the original work is made to accommodate Liesa Van der Aa's violin with effect pedals, opening to an epic re-reading of the work as conceived by the American composer Larry Polansky. What this set-up enables is a melancholy, slow-paced approach that quite radically opposes the more upbeat and joyful nature of the folk songs.

Pål Waaktaar-Savoy has explained that much of the atmosphere and the lyrical themes of Savoy’s seventh album “Under” are drawn from his move with his fellow songwriter and wife Lauren Savoy to Los Angeles, where they found themselves surrounded by loneliness.

Waaktaar-Savoy is one of the most prolific and impressive songwriters of the twentieth century and beyond, and having been working at the very top of the music industry for as long as he has, it is no surprise that the record is well-crafted. The production is good, with careful arrangements and instrumentation. Every instrument’s voice is given room and there is space in the mix. Only occasionally does this slip over into over-production, as with the treated strings on the opening track “Lonely Surfer” or the treatment of Lauren’s vocals, which sound overly processed.

It is also true that the record exhibits a fair measure of melancholy. The chords and melody lines are dark in places, and there is a hint of sadness in the lyrics, many of which have a retrospective quality, describing moments in the past. However, beyond this, the understated feel of the record is just that – understated. Many of songs feel a few RPM too slow and the delivery of the vocal lines too underplayed to give them any emotional authority. At times, it also seems like the arrangement has to step in to bolster the songwriting or lyrics, by filling space with strings or brass, or the counterpoint of the instrumentation on “Camden Palace Chronicles” which distracts from some fairly mediocre words. It is important to emphasise that this is a joint songwriting exercise for Pål and Lauren, so we should not compare the output to the work of a-ha, but still, the themes lean in the direction of suburban banality, far from Pål’s more oblique or allegorical writing.

There are other moments of real quality beyond the production and arrangement. The title track has an excellent Bowie-esque chorus (and there are echoes of his work and sound throughout, along with Beatles and Beck), “The Life and Times of a Wannabe” has some first-rate guitar work on it, edgy riffs and some good textures. Likewise, “Coming Down”, which also exemplifies Frode Unneland’s drumming on the record, which is generally prominent in the mix, and with good reason, as it carries the record along well.

Pål Waaktaar-Savoy has explained that much of the atmosphere and the lyrical themes of Savoy’s seventh album “Under” are drawn from his move with his fellow songwriter and wife Lauren Savoy to Los Angeles, where they found themselves surrounded by loneliness.

Waaktaar-Savoy is one of the most prolific and impressive songwriters of the twentieth century and beyond, and having been working at the very top of the music industry for as long as he has, it is no surprise that the record is well-crafted. The production is good, with careful arrangements and instrumentation. Every instrument’s voice is given room and there is space in the mix. Only occasionally does this slip over into over-production, as with the treated strings on the opening track “Lonely Surfer” or the treatment of Lauren’s vocals, which sound overly processed.

It is also true that the record exhibits a fair measure of melancholy. The chords and melody lines are dark in places, and there is a hint of sadness in the lyrics, many of which have a retrospective quality, describing moments in the past. However, beyond this, the understated feel of the record is just that – understated. Many of songs feel a few RPM too slow and the delivery of the vocal lines too underplayed to give them any emotional authority. At times, it also seems like the arrangement has to step in to bolster the songwriting or lyrics, by filling space with strings or brass, or the counterpoint of the instrumentation on “Camden Palace Chronicles” which distracts from some fairly mediocre words. It is important to emphasise that this is a joint songwriting exercise for Pål and Lauren, so we should not compare the output to the work of a-ha, but still, the themes lean in the direction of suburban banality, far from Pål’s more oblique or allegorical writing.

There are other moments of real quality beyond the production and arrangement. The title track has an excellent Bowie-esque chorus (and there are echoes of his work and sound throughout, along with Beatles and Beck), “The Life and Times of a Wannabe” has some first-rate guitar work on it, edgy riffs and some good textures. Likewise, “Coming Down”, which also exemplifies Frode Unneland’s drumming on the record, which is generally prominent in the mix, and with good reason, as it carries the record along well.

In one sense, it’s easy for artists—songwriters, specifically—to express their feelings in their work. After all, that’s what the lyrics are for! But it’s much harder to convey emotional energy in how you play, slash at the guitar, and the structure of the music itself. That’s precisely why Girl and Girl’s Sub Pop debut, Call A Doctor, feels like such a vital, electrifying shock to the senses. Not since the early work of Car Seat Headrest or Conor Oberst’s widescreen emotional brutality as Bright Eyes has indie rock managed to come across as this intimate and grandiose, as the Australian quartet led by Kai James lay a lifetime’s worth of woes—mental health, the human race’s planned obsolescence if you’ve been living on this cursed rock you know what we’re getting at—across a canvas of indie rock that feels both timeless and in-the-moment.

An audacious and aggressively tuneful blast of a record, Call A Doctor is an unforgettable first bow from Girl and Girl, whose origins lie in James and guitarist Jayden Williams jamming in his mother’s garage in the afternoon after school. One afternoon, James’ Aunty Liss headed down to their practice space after walking her dog and asked if she could sit in on drums. “It sounded really great,” James recalls. “We begged her to stay, and she said, ‘I’ll stay until you find another drummer.’ We wore her down, and she eventually became a permanent member.”

After bassist Fraser Bell joined to round things out, Girl and Girl hit the road and began to make a name for themselves beyond the Australian bush, eventually signing to Sub Pop off the strength of word of mouth. Call A Doctor came together quickly soon after, largely recorded in marathon sessions in a two-story industrial complex over the course of two weeks. “That added to the intensity of the album,” James says about the frenzied creative process overseen by producer Burke Reid. “I can hear the stress in the record, which is good because that’s what it’s about—being tense, tied up, and in your own head.”

Call A Doctor’s eleven songs—spanning sweeping guitar epics and wry acoustic shuffles to spiky punk maneuvers and the type of raw, adoringly unvarnished indie-pop associated with legendary PacNW label K Records—are literally plucked from James’ personal history, as he reworked older recordings with newer lyrics reflecting his past struggles as well as new anxieties that emerged prior to the album’s recording. “I’ve struggled with mental health for a lot of my life,” he explains, “and I went through a particularly difficult patch when we were making the album; the band had started to get some attention, and I felt an enormous amount of pressure to live up to it.”

Far from the sound of collapsing under pressure, Call A Doctor finds James and Co. stepping up with their entire collective chest. This is a record that’s so out-and-out alive that you nearly feel like you’re in the same room with Girl and Girl as you listen to it; lead single “Hello” practically bursts through the speakers, amplified by Aunty Liss’ unbelievable stickhandling duties. “‘Hello’ is all about romanticizing your own misery. Letting those deep, dark, dirty thoughts take over. Understanding that even if you could pull yourself out, you wouldn’t because the constant stress and worry is far too familiar and comfortable.”

“Mother” pogos on a spiky groove that’s reminiscent of the geographically close New Zealanders who make up the legendary Flying Nun label, while “Oh Boy” draws from the Shins’ own jangly sound, injected with James’ wonderfully nervy vocals. Then there’s Call A Doctor’s sorta-centerpiece “Maple Jean and the Anthropocene,” a five-minute epic offering a new perspective on climate change and the notion of what it means, in a personal sense, to suffer: “I live in the bushland, and I was driving home one night and hit and killed a wallaby with my car,” James recalls while discussing the song’s lyrical inspiration. “My first thought was, ‘What is the universe trying to tell me?’ No remorse, no guilt, just total self-centeredness. Which was like, Woah, you fucking psychopath! This wallaby wasn’t put on this earth to send you a message. That’s what the song is about, our egocentric species - thinking you’re the main character and that everything that happens is somehow about you.”

“This record is about an individual who’s too far in their head, trying to get out,” James continues while discussing Call A Doctor’s overall outlook—specifically the snapshot it offers of its creator. But even though this record deals with uneasy topics we all know well from within ourselves, it’s important to emphasize how teeming with life Girl and Girl’s music is. There’s a brazen, bold sense of humor to this stuff, an undeniable brightness to the darkness that makes it impossible not to be drawn in as a listener. Feeling down never sounded so goddamn good.

In one sense, it's easy for artists-songwriters, specifically-to express their feelings in their work. After all, that's what the lyrics are for! But it's much harder to convey emotional energy in how you play, slash at the guitar, and the structure of the music itself. That's precisely why Girl and Girl's Sub Pop debut, Call A Doctor, feels like such a vital, electrifying shock to the senses. Not since the early work of Car Seat Headrest or Conor Oberst's widescreen emotional brutality as Bright Eyes has indie rock managed to come across as this intimate and grandiose, as the Australian quartet led by Kai James lay a lifetime's worth of woes-mental health, the human race's planned obsolescence if you've been living on this cursed rock you know what we're getting at-across a canvas of indie rock that feels both timeless and in-the-moment. An audacious and aggressively tuneful blast of a record, Call A Doctor is an unforgettable first bow from Girl and Girl, whose origins lie in James and guitarist Jayden Williams jamming in his mother's garage in the afternoon after school. One afternoon, James' Aunty Liss headed down to their practice space after walking her dog and asked if she could sit in on drums. "It sounded really great," James recalls. "We begged her to stay, and she said, 'I'll stay until you find another drummer.' We wore her down, and she eventually became a permanent member." After bassist Fraser Bell joined to round things out, Girl and Girl hit the road and began to make a name for themselves beyond the Australian bush, eventually signing to Sub Pop off the strength of word of mouth. Call A Doctor came together quickly soon after, largely recorded in marathon sessions in a two-story industrial complex over the course of two weeks. "That added to the intensity of the album," James says about the frenzied creative process overseen by producer Burke Reid. "I can hear the stress in the record, which is good because that's what it's about-being tense, tied up, and in your own head." Call A Doctor's eleven songs-spanning sweeping guitar epics and wry acoustic shuffles to spiky punk maneuvers and the type of raw, adoringly unvarnished indie-pop associated with legendary PacNW label K Records-are literally plucked from James' personal history, as he reworked older recordings with newer lyrics reflecting his past struggles as well as new anxieties that emerged prior to the album's recording. "I've struggled with mental health for a lot of my life," he explains, "and I went through a particularly difficult patch when we were making the album; the band had started to get some attention, and I felt an enormous amount of pressure to live up to it." "This record is about an individual who's too far in their head, trying to get out," James continues while discussing Call A Doctor's overall outlook-specifically the snapshot it offers of its creator. But even though this record deals with uneasy topics we all know well from within ourselves, it's important to emphasize how teeming with life Girl and Girl's music is. There's a brazen, bold sense of humor to this stuff, an undeniable brightness to the darkness that makes it impossible not to be drawn in as a listener. Feeling down never sounded so goddamn good.

GER Als Night Beats erschafft der in Texas geborene und in LA lebende Künstler Danny Lee Blackwell Musik, wie man ein Puzzle zusammensetzen könnte. Der psychedelische Autorenfilmer aus dem Westen baut sein Werk aus einem Moment, einer Initialzündung, auf, die bestimmte Kriterien erfüllen muss: Sie muss ihm Gänsehaut bereiten. Wenn dieses Gefühl eintritt, verfolgt Blackwell die Idee unermüdlich, bis er einen neuen Song hat; wenn nicht, geht er zum nächsten Moment über, immer auf der Suche nach dem perfekten Molekül eines Songs. Auf seinem sechsten Night Beats-Album "Rajan" zeigt sich der Songwriter von seiner besten Seite und erschafft Werke, die mit fesselnden Melodien und hypnotischen Rhythmen glänzen, aber auch durch subtile handwerkliche Entscheidungen unterstrichen werden, die nur nach unzähligen Stunden im Studio erreicht werden können. Blackwell erschafft ein Werk, das irgendwo zwischen Spaghetti-Western-Filmmusik und Psych-Pop-Opus angesiedelt ist, ein karrierebestimmendes Album, das viel über Danny Lee Blackwells künstlerische Philosophie verrät und gleichzeitig den so wichtigen Hauch des Geheimnisvollen bewahrt. Exklusiv für den Indie-Handel, todesrote LP, handnummeriert mit Poster und DLC.


ENG As Night Beats, Texas-born, LA-based artist Danny Lee Blackwell creates music like one might assemble a puzzle. The Western psychedelic auteur builds his work from one moment, an initial spark, that must fit a certain criteria: it must give him goosebumps. If that sensation arrives, Blackwell will pursue the idea relentlessly until he has a new song; if not, he moves onto the next moment, constantly looking for the perfect molecule of a song. On his sixth Night Beats album, 'Rajan', the songwriter is at his strongest, creating works that shine with captivating melodies and hypnotic rhythms, but are underscored by subtle choices of craftsmanship that can only be achieved after countless hours in the studio. Blackwell creates a work that lands somewhere between Spaghetti Western film score and psych-pop opus, a career-defining album that reveals much about Danny Lee Blackwell's artistic philosophy while keeping that ever crucial air of mystery intact. Indies only LP on 180g 'Dying Red Giant' coloured vinyl, limited to 350 hand-numbered copies, fold-out art poster, download card included.

Field Records takes a look into the vast catalogue of Celer, the prolific ambient project from Tokyo-based artist Will Long. Perfectly Beneath Us was originally released in 2012 as a CD-R on Still*Sleep, and now it’s being presented as a vinyl release remastered by Stephan Mathieu.

Celer began in California as a collaborative project in 2005 between Long and Danielle Baquet, resulting in reams of self-released work up until Baquet passed away in 2009. Long opted to keep their project going, and Celer has continued to grow as an expansive exploration of purest ambient. Meanwhile Long’s solo work under his own name has been equally accomplished, with scores of releases on DJ Sprinkles’ Comatonse Recordings and respected Norwegian leftfield label Smalltown Supersound.

With such a sizable library of sounds to explore, the reissue of Perfectly Beneath Us serves as an ideal entry point into the Celer catalogue, presenting four pieces of sustained, glacial movement wreaking profound emotional impact from the subtlest methods. Long exercises the utmost patience from the shorter ‘Distressing Sensations’ and ‘Ultra-terrestrial Yearning’ through to the 10-minutes-plus stretches of ‘Slightly Apart, Almost Touching’ and ‘Absolute Receptivity Of All The Senses’.

It’s truly immersive, captivating drone music that rewards the attentive listener as much as it soothes the casual drifter. Originally limited to just 100 copies in 2012, it’s now beautifully framed on a carefully considered reissue which adds to Field’s own repertoire of evocative, subliminal electronics.

About Field Records
Field Records has been publishing versatile electronic music from a string of high-principled artists since 2008. Firmly rooted in minimalism and modesty, the label gained a reputation for its versatile and atmospheric output - which includes works from the likes of Artefakt, ENA, Imaginary Softwoods, Monolake and SUGAI KEN.

Bill MacKay and Drag City are delirious with pride to announce the discovery of a new territory: Locust Land, a record which seeks to reflect the nerve-shredding consciousness run amok in our world today - and somehow allay it with sound. Bill"s music is a visceral crackling where it meets the air, and Locust Land can"t help but reflect its era more than any other in his discography. It"s been five years since the release of Fountain Fire - but in the interim, Bill has barely stopped moving, collaborating with artists across the spectrum, including cellist Katinka Kleijn, banjo player Nathan Bowles and keyboardist Cooper Crain. He"s also contributed to recordings by Steve Gunn, Ryley Walker, Bill Callahan & Bonnie Prince Billy (Blind Date Party), and Black Duck (on their self-titled record featuring Douglas McCombs and Charles Rumback). Forget five years - how"d he even get Locust Land squeezed out of his temporal lobes? Bill"s sense of music as art is constantly modulating - lifting off from where it is found and naturally migrating to some other place. Sometimes, that"s elsewhere - others, it"s simply to be found deeper inside the starting point. And so, the action of moving on informs the landscape of Locust Land. This manifests in several different ways. A restless energy and urgency is repeatedly felt - in the driving momentum of "Keeping in Time," "Glow Drift," and "When I Was Here" - while a dogged persistence radiates from the tone colors and percussion of "Oh, Pearl." Mating a dirge-like desolation with sparkling guitars, "Radiator" adds darkness and depth. The sense of searching, displacement and longing in vocal tracks "Keeping in Time," "Half of You," and "When I Was Here" speak literally to the tumult of current vibrations. Within the arrangements, there"s also departure from previous norms - in addition to the brilliant guitar work for which he is known, Bill plays a variety of keyboards, from piano to organ to synth, extending his music with the available voicings, while enriching the sound field without abandoning his signature brevity. For fans of his singing, and following in the recent tradition of Fountain Fire as well as his collaboration with Nathan Bowles, Keys, Locust Land expresses with an increased vocal presence - and heightened engagement, with Bill"s words and melodies drawing us closer. Also different: on his previous solo recordings, Bill played every sound. Here, he has invited other illustrious Chicagoans to join him: Sam Wagster (The Father Costume, Mute Duo) plays bass on three songs, two of which feature the percussion playing of Mikel Patrick Avery (Natural Information Society, Jeff Parker, etc.). Additionally, Janet Beveridge Bean (Eleventh Dream Day, Freakwater) adds otherworldly vocal textures to the elegiac "Neil"s Field." Whether played alone or with companions, this music projects the strength of a universal collective. Even with a piece that might earlier have passed for blissful pastorale, Bill displays some declamatory motives. The reverie which opens the album, "Phantasmic Fairy," embodies both transcendent and desperate moods, with Bill"s ineffable slide guitar playing afloat, with organs and synths, in a dream state suffused with a sense of foreboding - a requiem, perhaps for the days of unencumbered bandwidth? On the other side of the album, the strength to continue to hope appears in the lifting melodicism/exoticism of the album-closing title track, leaving the listener with the sense of having achieved a hard-won space - a place of personal contemplation and dissent, one that everyone on the planet deserves to visit every single day on earth. With cover art also by Bill MacKay (the third of his albums on Drag City to feature his work), Locust Land stands as a thoroughly personal statement from Bill to everyone everywhere.

Bill MacKay and Drag City are delirious with pride to announce the discovery of a new territory: Locust Land, a record which seeks to reflect the nerve-shredding consciousness run amok in our world today - and somehow allay it with sound. Bill"s music is a visceral crackling where it meets the air, and Locust Land can"t help but reflect its era more than any other in his discography. It"s been five years since the release of Fountain Fire - but in the interim, Bill has barely stopped moving, collaborating with artists across the spectrum, including cellist Katinka Kleijn, banjo player Nathan Bowles and keyboardist Cooper Crain. He"s also contributed to recordings by Steve Gunn, Ryley Walker, Bill Callahan & Bonnie Prince Billy (Blind Date Party), and Black Duck (on their self-titled record featuring Douglas McCombs and Charles Rumback). Forget five years - how"d he even get Locust Land squeezed out of his temporal lobes? Bill"s sense of music as art is constantly modulating - lifting off from where it is found and naturally migrating to some other place. Sometimes, that"s elsewhere - others, it"s simply to be found deeper inside the starting point. And so, the action of moving on informs the landscape of Locust Land. This manifests in several different ways. A restless energy and urgency is repeatedly felt - in the driving momentum of "Keeping in Time," "Glow Drift," and "When I Was Here" - while a dogged persistence radiates from the tone colors and percussion of "Oh, Pearl." Mating a dirge-like desolation with sparkling guitars, "Radiator" adds darkness and depth. The sense of searching, displacement and longing in vocal tracks "Keeping in Time," "Half of You," and "When I Was Here" speak literally to the tumult of current vibrations. Within the arrangements, there"s also departure from previous norms - in addition to the brilliant guitar work for which he is known, Bill plays a variety of keyboards, from piano to organ to synth, extending his music with the available voicings, while enriching the sound field without abandoning his signature brevity. For fans of his singing, and following in the recent tradition of Fountain Fire as well as his collaboration with Nathan Bowles, Keys, Locust Land expresses with an increased vocal presence - and heightened engagement, with Bill"s words and melodies drawing us closer. Also different: on his previous solo recordings, Bill played every sound. Here, he has invited other illustrious Chicagoans to join him: Sam Wagster (The Father Costume, Mute Duo) plays bass on three songs, two of which feature the percussion playing of Mikel Patrick Avery (Natural Information Society, Jeff Parker, etc.). Additionally, Janet Beveridge Bean (Eleventh Dream Day, Freakwater) adds otherworldly vocal textures to the elegiac "Neil"s Field." Whether played alone or with companions, this music projects the strength of a universal collective. Even with a piece that might earlier have passed for blissful pastorale, Bill displays some declamatory motives. The reverie which opens the album, "Phantasmic Fairy," embodies both transcendent and desperate moods, with Bill"s ineffable slide guitar playing afloat, with organs and synths, in a dream state suffused with a sense of foreboding - a requiem, perhaps for the days of unencumbered bandwidth? On the other side of the album, the strength to continue to hope appears in the lifting melodicism/exoticism of the album-closing title track, leaving the listener with the sense of having achieved a hard-won space - a place of personal contemplation and dissent, one that everyone on the planet deserves to visit every single day on earth. With cover art also by Bill MacKay (the third of his albums on Drag City to feature his work), Locust Land stands as a thoroughly personal statement from Bill to everyone everywhere.

Certainly one of the most obscure and perhaps one of the most fascinating work of the English jazz revolution. Master of ceremonies is cellist Paul Buckmaster, known for his work with the Third Ear Band and for his (later) collaborations with Miles Davis, David Bowie and Elton John. Chitinous is his the only album as leader and it was recorded between 31 March and 13 April 1970, by an orchestra of no less than 51 players, with violins, violas and cellos. In this enormous line-up we find the cream of English musicians involved, starting with trumpeter Ian Carr and ending with drummer John Marshall. The leader is on cello, his main instrument, but also on keyboards, which he shares with the excellent Pete Robinson. The music is organized in suites, with very broad suggestions that draw from classical and contemporary music and then move back into jazz territory.

»Fluvius« is a conceptual album about water and its importance, in the form of rivers, in the birth and development of great civilizations throughout history. Civilizations that have worshiped water as a source of life to respect, care for, venerate, and fear. A work that probably surpasses everything that these two usual suspects of the label have previously produced - Hari Sima released »Fluido Tiempo« on Abstrakce and Mínim is a member of Mecánica Clásica.

Contemporary ambient, full of hypnotic sequences and organic developments, with meticulous and evocative arrangements. A myriad of textures and elegant details improve the album with each new listen. Eight exotic tracks sail through eight rivers which are crucial for the birth and development of great peoples and cultures around the globe. An excellent work that will hook fans of Bitchin Bajas, Fitoussi, Cortini, or the most ambient Dozzy...

Mastered by Rafael Anton Irisarri. Special limited edition of 250 copies, with die-cut kraft cardboard cover printed in white, and printed inner sleeve.

An anthology of the intensely arresting work of Robert Fesler (1936-2023), revealing many of his compositions (1975-1987) created with his self-built synthesizers, with as pinnacle the μP RPF78. All music composed and recorded by Robert Fesler at his home on rue Cour Boisacq in Bierges, Belgium. Except one, all tracks are previously unreleased.

With profound simplicity and devotion, Fesler paints a hermetic inner world with strong emotions of confronting solitude, sensual alienation and traumatic angst. His music was as much a therapeutic treatment as an artistic expression. Fesler quotes, »Building my synthesizers and working with them enabled me to sublimate my anxieties.« Most tracks were played and recorded real time, often with two synthesizers (the Synthese 756 and the μP RPF78), capturing the heat of the moment in one take, without multitracking. The austere and reductionist approach reinforces the overall spirit of his work, resulting in an engaging, mysterious solitary journey. It’s quite incredible how one person can put so much technical cerebral content in the development of a machine and use it in such an emotional way.

The music of Robert Fesler might be considered as very Belgian. To situate it within a close entourage, one can say it has: The endurance of Baudouin Oosterlynck The purity of Dominique Lawalree The mysticism of Arsène Souffriau

We proudly welcome Oleg Makovskiy for the third edition on our Konfus imprint.

The Voodoo EP will take you on a deep journey, blurring lines between fiction and reality, sending you to another reality.

Grab your copy, get your brain working and your body moving.

With Lucifer, Kompakt presents an album of rare beauty from two masters of modern music. A family affair, it’s a collaboration between the Italian father-and-son duo of Luciano Michelini and Lorenzo Dada, whose combined histories bring to Lucifer a depth of experience alongside clarity of vision and a finely tuned, neatly developed combined compositional voice. A lovely, beguiling suite of music that combines the electronic and the acoustic, the urban and the pastoral, its gorgeous night-eye vision and tender melancholy sits neatly within the Kompakt universe, while offering the curious listener some rich new perspectives.

There is already plenty to know both artists by. Lorenzo Dada creates across multiple fields – a techno producer and DJ who has already worked with the likes of Jay Haze, Fete, Leo Benassi, and Der, he’s released a small clutch of stylish, smartly designed EPs, and a solo album, Second Life (2018). His complementary background in classical music and composition informs his ensemble project, Tears Of Blue (who appear on Lucifer), where Dada paints with neo-classical tones for a quartet of violin, viola, cello and grand piano, supplemented by electronics for live performance.

Luciano Michelini’s history is yet richer. He may be best known, to many, for his piece “Frolic”, the theme to Larry David’s Curb Your Enthusiasm series; it was also sampled by Snoop Dogg for 2022’s “Crip Ya Enthusiasm”. But there’s much more to Michelini’s story. A successful soundtrack composer, Michelini both studied and taught at the Conservatoro di Santa Cecilia, and worked for RCA from the sixties to the eighties; his soundtracks from this period are gorgeous examples of the form, particularly his work for Il Decamerone Nero (1972), L’Isola Degli Uomini Pesce (1979), and the devastatingly gorgeous Dimensione Donna (1977).

In the eighties, Michelini and his wife Anna Gutling founded the Electronic Music Division studio and academy in Rome, which is where the majority of Lucifer was recorded. Dada reflects on the experience: “We never worked together before, so it was all new for both of us,” with Michelini adding, “I truly love this experience with my son. He’s a talented pianist and composer. I am not very familiar with electronic music nowadays, but we did it fluently.” There’s certainly a familial energy at play through Lucifer, and you can hear how Dada and Michelini, through exploration and experiment, find a shared language, balancing Dada’s tendency toward minimalism, and Michelini’s composerly voice.

Lucifer flows as a suite that interweaves electronic music with acoustic instruments: the lonely sigh of saxophone; Michelini’s lush, verdant piano; the weeping strings of Tears Of Blue (recorded at the studio of Michelini’s friend, the late Maestro, Ennio Morricone). These multiple voices are located within the electronic sighs and swarms from Dada’s kit; there are moments of propulsion, and passages of lambent drift, where the album revels in its tonal sweetness. If it flows so effortlessly, that’s because Lucifer was designed that way, as a suite or a sonata of sorts.

And the title? Dada reflects, “Lucifer was an angel who decided not to be one anymore. The miracle of life is that we can decide what we want to be, even if we are born as angels or vice versa.” This feels somehow apposite: there’s certainly something of the transformative, and the transportive, in Lucifer, a unique family collaboration of rare poetry and sensitivity, where two generations meet in the modern crucible that is the electronic music studio.

repare to embark on a transcendent auditory journey with "The Sevens” a series of four 7-inch vinyl records that unveil a treasure trove of previously unreleased tracks from A Place To Bury Strangers' critically acclaimed 6th album, "See Through You." Renowned for their visceral sonic assault and immersive live performances, A Place To Bury Strangers has cemented the end-all-be-all space for over-the-top post-punk / shoegaze destruction. With this special vinyl collection, the band invites listeners to delve deeper into their sonic universe, exploring uncharted territories and hidden gems. “You'll Be There For Me” / “When You're Gone” is the fourth release. “When looking back at the recordings that were done around the time of See Through You there were a bunch of great tracks that just captured life back then and really had something incredible going on. Even though they are a bit raw and a bit personal, I thought it would be a mistake if they didn't come out. I thought it would be best to go back to my roots and put out a series of 7"s the way A Place To Bury Strangers started. That strange weird format where the tracks each speak for themselves, no album context to muddy the water. These tracks are such a contrast to the way I am feeling now and the current songs we've been working on so slip back into this moment in time.” says APTBS’ Oliver Ackermann