Suche:real big fish

 The seven-headed Aussie rock beast King Gizzard & The Lizard
Wizard return with a new vinyl edition of ‘Fishing For Fishies’,
perhaps their most perfectly-realised album to date.
 The Eco Edition has been pressed on Eco-Mix vinyl and is housed
in a brown paper bag after previous pressings quickly sold out.
 Released on the band’s own Flightless Records, here is a world
where the organic meets the automated; where the rustic meets
the robotic. Where the past and future collide in the beautiful
present.
 ‘Fishing For Fishies’ is a blues-infused blast of sonic boogie that
struts and shimmies through several moods and terrains. From the
soft shuffle Outback country of the opening title track through the
sunny easy listening of ‘The Bird Song’ (think a lysergically-soaked
Laurel Canyon circa 1973) and on through the party funk of
‘Plastic Boogie’ (which somehow summons the spirit of Stevie
Wonder’s ‘Innervisions’) the road-trucking, Doors-like highway
rock of ‘The Cruel Millennial’ and ‘Real’s Not Real’ - what
Carpenters might have sounded like had they existed entirely on
vegemite and weed - it’s a dizzying, dazzling display which
addresses a number of pertinent environmental issues along the
way.
 “We tried to make a blues record,” says frontman Stu Mackenzie.
“A blues-boogie-shuffle-kinda-thing, but the songs kept fighting it -
or maybe it was us fighting them. Ultimately though we let the
songs guide us this time; we let them have their own personalities
and forge their own path. Paths of light, paths of darkness. This is
a collection of songs that went on wild journeys of transformation.”
 Quiet though it was on the record front, 2018 was hardly a year of
rest for King Gizzard & The Lizard Wizard. In almost perpetual
motion, the band continued their unstoppable rise as their
juggernaut of a live show grew and grew and grew, with a mindblowing headline slot at Green Man Festival, a massive sold-out
US tour in the summer which saw them play their biggest venues
to date, a brain-frying sold out Brixton Academy show, two gigs in
Russia and Istanbul where they played in front of over 15,000
people and putting on the fourth edition of their annual Gizzfest in
Melbourne amongst the highlights.

- The definitive overview of one of Canada's unsung musical heroes - Rare/previously unreleased recordings, photos, and interviews - Lyrics, discography, and filmography - Audio re-mastered by John Baldwin Mastering - Artwork by Christi Belcourt and Alanna Edwards - Liner notes by Kevin Howes (Voluntary In Nature) - Contributions from the Dunn family, Bob Robb, and Alanis Obomsawin (OC) // How did you first experience the poetry, music, and film of Willie Dunn? In a Montreal coffeehouse during the mid-1960s? On a CBC Indian Magazine broadcast with host Johnny Yesno? At a Toronto record store or Native Friendship Centre at the turn of the 1970s? Waiting outside of the Mohawk Nation Longhouse? Maybe in your parent's record collection on the Rez? A White Roots of Peace gathering? Pow wow? The Mariposa Folk Festival? Or was it that Save James Bay Benefit back in '73? On a good friend's stereo? Sitting around a crackling campfire? How about an old NFB film reel or VHS tape in high school? Or while attending Manitou College? A German concert hall in the 1980s? Maybe a direct action protest on the colonial streets of Canada? Busking in Ottawa during the 1990s? College radio? At Willie's celebration of life service in 2013 alongside Alanis Obomsawin and Willy Mitchell? LITA's Grammy-nominated Native North America (Vol. 1) compilation or the very anthology you hold in your hands? There should be no judgment for coming to things when you do. All that's important is remaining open to life-changing messages such as these_ Willie Dunn shared truth through song and celluloid. His original composition, "I Pity the Country," is an unparalleled statement on the greed and hate created by humankind, recorded in 1971 and still unfortunately needed today. "It's like the reason you're supposed to make music," said Kurt Vile about the song to MOJO Magazine in 2015. With "Charlie," Willie was the first to deliver the devastating story of Chanie Wenjack and the Canadian residential school system to the music community, nearly 50 years before the much-celebrated Secret Path, yet ignored outside of Indian Country and the folk festival circuit. Dunn's film technique, featured in 1968's The Ballad of Crowfoot (NFB), predates the "Ken Burns effect" to great effect. Are you catching the drift? Willie Dunn was not only a trailblazing leader in his time, but well ahead of the curve, simply without the PR push and big money backing of major label players. "He was our Leonard Cohen," said singer-songwriter Eric Landry about his musical hero. The only difference is that Willie refused to play the Hollywood showbiz game. In talent, he is Cohen, Dylan, and Cash rolled into one and along with Buffy Sainte-Marie, Floyd Red Crow Westerman, and A. Paul Ortega, brought a new set of perspectives and realities to the folk music tradition. Willie spoke directly to his people and Mother Earth through his creations, not only from experience but by examining his roots and connecting with the world in which he lived. We are humbled to help honor Willie Dunn. May he never be forgotten_ PEACE

*Repress*


The iconic album series Back to Mine returns in 2019, to mark it's 20th anniversary, with the indomitable Nightmares on Wax, to share his personal collection of music for after hours grooving. The series was renowned for its eclectic selection and selectors which includes some of the biggest names in electronic and pop music, from the likes of Faithless to Pet Shop Boys, Groove Armada to New Order.

Building on Back To Mine's heritage for quality this edition comes as limited edition heavyweight vinyl and extra thick cardboard sleeve with full coloured bespoke artwork, commissioned from illustrator Rich Fairhead, depicting the artist's influences along side personal sleeve notes form Nightmares On Wax.

The collection includes three exclusive tracks, one new track from Nightmares on Wax, along with a remix from the man himself of seminal band Fat Freddy's Drop and brand new project Creative Principle. The album is impeccably mixed and blended, as you'd expect from a DJ and collector of George's pedigree. His selection includes a strong representation from his roots in Northern England. Opening with respected Manchester soul duo Children of Zeus, Hull's Steve Cobby provides his own 'Lefthanded Books' featuring Crazy P's Danielle Moore and also introduces his chuggy-disco project Chieftain. There's also room for the recent Nightmares on Wax recent single 'Look Up'. Moving internationally; there's Greek producer Dim Zach who doffs a cap to Imagination on the synth-heavy 'Innocence', US-born/Colombian based Afro/Latin/disco/funk producer Bosq, Italy's Massimo Vanoni with the slo-mo funk 'Exciting Groove', the deep and jazzy 'Gotta Have It' by Berlin's SoulPhiction side project SBM and two tracks by New Zealander Ladi6.

This first re-instalment of Back to Mine is a triumphant return for the iconic and music loved series. Nightmares on Wax delivers an incredible selection of tracks that gives the listener a real insight into the artists personal and extensive taste. To coincide with the series release, Nightmares on Wax will embark on extensive Back to Mine worldwide DJ tour which sees the producer touch down in various cities across Europe and USA, including six dates in the UK.

'I always hoped that when the time was right I would be asked to do a Back To Mine release and so when the call came there was absolutely no hesitation'. - Nightmares on Wax.

The music on this EP was conceived in China, between 1989 and 1993. The original tracks were mixed to DAT in real time, in a small neighbour-proof studio inside my apartment in Macau, a 19th floor with a view to the hurricanes. There's a small, unexpected or improbable story behind each track, some little magic fused with the local atmosphere, certainly guaranteeing their lasting authenticity 25 years later.

TAIPEI DISCO
Late 80s Guangzhou was an exotic city where the traditional past coexisted in harmony with the present and even already with the future.
I'd rather spend my weekends in Guangzhou than diving into Hong Kong consumerism - as most ex-pats in Macau did. I took a cab at the border and travelled 150 Km through chaotic roads with family and friends until reaching the hot, humid, mega South China metropolis.
We ate on street joints in the evenings, went on to a karaoke bar and ended up at Taipei Disco, the only proper club in town. All the others were inside hotels and played generic music or they were seedy, sleazy, smoky cabarets.
Taipei Disco used to be a cinema and played cantonese pop music and anglo-saxon pop/rock (that was new). The spacious dance floor was generously lighted, the atmosphere was airy and modern. Boys and girls were in the habit of dancing in pairs, one in front of the other, observing a respectful yet sensual distance. When the girl took a few steps back, the boy went along and vice versa. With legs and feet (more than the upper bodies) synchronized with the music, they never exceeded in extroversion. Cool.
I always carried a MicroComposer and a portable DAT recorder in my travels through China and weekends in Canton. Any spontaneous musical idea was imediately recorded and memorized. The MicroComposer allowed multitrack recording, which was very handy on the road. Based on the emphatic choreography of Taipei Disco's dancers, i started to compose a rhythm track while sitting at a table, with headphones, listening to Cantopop in the background. As if by magic - not a rare occasion in music - everything began fitting together. Odd as it may seem, the track ended up sounding more germanic (Kraftwerkian) than Cantonese pop.

The story ends in a circle: the cantonese DJ at Taipei Disco, whom i used to ask to play certain records, wanted to play my music at the disco when it was basically only just a rhythm track and little else. From a cupboard under his set up he took out a battered keyboard (unrecognizable brand) and invited me to play over the track with the available sounds on the keyboard. The circle was complete, with Cantonese clubbers happily dancing forwards and backwards, as if it were another Cantopop hit.
I didn't get payed but the house offered us free ice cream cups in which little Portuguese flags were sticked.
The track would be finished later, in studio, with vocoder strings ensemble and synth solos.

TAIPEI DISCO (LIVE)
The live version of 'Taipei Disco' was recorded during a live set at the China Pop venue, in Macau, 1993. China Pop was a rock club built in the ample space of an old fishing warehouse, located in the labyrinthic Inner Harbour area. It was decorated with large Mao Zedong and Cultural Revolution posters and memorabilia and had a unique atmosphere, fusing Pop Art with film noir. We began our performance at 1AM, pretty early for Macau's nightlife standards. We were lucky. An audience showed up. And in Macau there were always several friends among the audience, which tranformed a musical performance into a relaxed party.
The atmosphere was particularly surreal on that night. The front row was dominated by French Crazy Horse dancers, a sort of Oriental Moulin Rouge. The girls had finished their last performance of the evening at the Crazy Horse and were still energized from their show. During our performance, right in front of us and perfectly synched, we could hear the famous irreverent screams of can-can dancers. You always had to expect the unexpected in Macau.

RED MAMBO (IMPROMPTU)
I was familiar with the Portuguese-speaking African countries well before having lived in China. I found myself returning several times to one in particular, always attracted by its magic and very distinct, identitary culture and music: Cape Verde.
During the early years of DWART a lot of the inspiration for drum machine rhythms (Roland's TR series) came from African music, especially from new musical trends that gained full autonomy with Cape Verde's independence from Portugal, as was the case with funaná.
I had the privilege of having known and befriended some of the greatest Capeverdian composers, musicians and singers during the 70s and 80s, such as Bana, Luís Morais, Cesária Évora, Paulino Vieira, Chico Serra, Tito Paris, and historical bands such as Bulimundo (ambassadors of funaná) and Os Tubarões (great innovators of morna, coladera and funaná, with the sonic impact of an afro-beat big band).
When Luís Filipe de Barros began playing Os Tubarões for the first time on Portuguese radio, that was the turning point for African music in Portugal. The 'Tabanca' album was so widely heard and talked about that it quickly got a Portuguese release through one of the big labels of the time.
The mystic of this band from the Santiago Island would reach the East. Os Tubarões played to a packed room in Macau in 1992, and after the bombastic gig we arranged a dinner and party at my place.
We ate and drank generously and the moment came for a jam session at the small studio on the 19th floor. Because Os Tubarões didn't all fit in the studio, we recorded an impromptu with only three of the musicians: Tótó Silva (electric guitar), Mário Russo Bettencourt (bass) and Zeca Couto (piano). And there we were improvising without barriers, suddenly detached from cultural roots, labels and constraints, a truly unique moment. The track is now being released exactly as it was recorded, imbued with the real communion between the musicians. And it could only be titled 'Red Mambo'. I wish to dedicate it to the memory of Ildo Lobo and Jaime do Rosário, founders of Os Tubarões, sadly and too soon departed from the land of music.

"The kind of melancholia I'm talking about, by contrast, consists not in giving up on desire, but in refusing to yield. It consists, that is to say, in a refusal to adjust to what current conditions call 'reality' - even if the cost of that refusal is that you feel like an outcast in your own time." (Mark Fisher, Ghosts Of My Life, Zero Books 2014, p. 24) In Ghosts of My Life: Writings on Depression, Hauntology and Lost Futures', the author Mark Fisher outlines - to put it in a big way - a resistant melancholy. This stands in contrast to leftist melancholy resignation', as well as something which Fisher does not talk about: its common masculine counterpart, habitual post-left cynicism - as in seen it all before'. Fisher calls this hauntological melancholy. Haunting, spooks, ghosts and apparitions are an almost constant presence on I Started Wearing Black', the second album by the Cologne-based artist Sonae (pronounced so-nah'). The term hauntology shares a fate with retro-futurism when it comes to inflationary overuse and abuse. It's a conceptual container that looks good and can hold a lot, indeed, too much. Furthermore, hauntology has its peak season behind it, a term on the threshold of its expiration date. Nevertheless, I would like to rehabilitate hauntology and use it properly to characterize I Started Wearing Black', because the term is rarely as compelling to describe music as is the case here. The most recent other example could be Asiatisch' by Fatma Al Qadiri, but with a completely different frame of reference. What are the ghosts of this music It rustles, crackles, ruffles, crunches, rattles, scrapes, sometimes a beat emerges from the constant noise, sometimes an obscure voice mumbles incomprehensibly, sometimes a melancholy piano figure is prevented by this noise from coming too much to the foreground. It definitely is eerie - to bring into play another term used by Fisher in the title of his latest book, The Weird and the Eerie'. In British pop-jargon, eerie first occurred to me more often when referring to particularly leftfield, spooky and... well... ghostly dub, a bass-heavy, echoing noise, from Augustus Pablo to Creation Rebel to Burial. Unlike the Wald & Wagner records by Wolfgang Voigt, Sonae is not a kind of neo-romantic veiling with a tendency for escapist nebula. It is more a noise of latency. The noise signals a latent - not necessarily acute - threat, a latent uneasiness about... yes... about what About a System Immanent Value Defect' That's the name of a track on I Started Wearing Black' where something that sounds like a French Horn (or a foghorn) battles for attention through or against the background noise. An email from Sonae: The piece 'System Immanent Value Defect' should actually be called 'I See Turkey'. I wrote it for my fellow student Elif - she is a pianist and Gezi Park activist from Istanbul. Through her I witnessed the inner conflict and agitation that political circumstances can create: her feelings of guilt when there was an attack, with her safe in Germany as a student, watching the events from afar. It was horrible. When her mother begged her not to come home because she feared for her safety, I felt a cold shiver run down my spine. I started with the piece from this mood, beginning with the piano, then the noise (modulated sinusoidal curves), which reminded me of waves and the then heatedly discussed Mediterranean sea: atmospheric, melancholy motifs. In contrast is the anger, the pressure, represented in corresponding sounds - hopefully audible! - During this time I started to think about world views as they can be found around the globe, in how far they held by societies and their political representation. I realized that I know of no political system that is actually about the people and what would do them good. It's always about positions, power, money. I thought that was a lot more frightening on a global scale than merely viewing Turkey in isolation. That's why the piece is called "System Immanent Value Defect", because our world suffers from precisely that. Everywhere, it's all about the wrong things.' Between the wrong things there are happy moments. In the title track, after 184 seconds of rattling and hissing, a beat is unleashed, like an arrow released from a spanned bow, a beatific relief, if there is such a thing. White Trash Rouge Noir' first meanders along spookily, then after 144 seconds it transforms itself into a distant cousin of Einstu¨rzende Neubauten's Yu¨ Gung', but there is no Big Male Ego to be fed here, and the black in the album title is a completely different type of black from that of the Neubauten. Furthermore, I Started Wearing Black' was finished long before the black dresses were worn at the Golden Globes as a sign of protest against sexual violence. Sonae writes that she herself started wearing black some time ago. Her reasons are so-called personal ones: ... resulting from an individual situation (lovesickness), I started to wear black (gaining weight and feeling ugly).' The political dimension of gaining weight, feeling ugly and therefore dressing in black in I Started Wearing Black' lurks within the noise and never becomes explicit and only rarely manifest - or a manifesto. Sonae writes about the track We Are Here': A piece for minorities... in this case, considering the current pop-feminist discourse, explicitly for women. Female artists have long been saying loud and clear that 'we are here' and 'electronic music is not a boys club!' But this pop-feminist moment should only be seen as one part of the dedication of the piece. It is for minorities, for the oppressed, who didn't belong enough.'

Klaus Walter

After sending out these tracks last summer and getting great reactions from DJs and dancers alike, Hell Yeah is pleased to finally officially release virtuoso musician Verdo's Little Blue EP, complete with a remix from Lauer. Fully remastered for vinyl, the likes of Lexx, Chris Coco, Soft Rocks, Leo Mas and many more have all be playing these tunes with great results.

The talented Verdo runs the famous Gratis Club in Senigallia on the Italian east coast. It is a place he calls home, and that has really allowed him to hone and sharpen his DJ skills so that now he is a slick, unpredictable and singular DJ with many tricks up his sleeve. Bjorn Torske, DJ Fettburger, Prins Thomas, Kenji Takimi, Glenn Underground and more have all played there in the last decade and Verdo himself is a skilled pianist who has played for Zero7 singer Mozez in the past. He has worked with Hell Yeah before now, as well as releasing on Danny Was A Drag King, and here serves up his biggest bit of dance floor dynamite to date, including his previously digital only cut 'Big Fish' (mixed by DJ Rocca).

Opener 'Little Blue' is a perfectly sunny track with hip swinging claps, bobbling bass and boat party vibes that soothe your soul. Rich with instrumentals and golden synth lines, it's a perfect beat that gets followed up by the retro disco pump of 'Sazerac', another tropical cut with loose drums and rubbery bass to get you up on your toes.

The massive 'Big Fish' then hits hard with its tin pot percussion and wild synths all making you flail your arms like you just don't care. Jumbled jungle vibes and big chords all swell your heart as your feet skip about down low.

Closing out the package is Phillip Lauer (Tuff City Kids), one of the most in demand stars of the day, and his version is a direct house jam with percolating and rugged synths and slapping hits, all demanding you ditch your cocktail and get up and groove.

"all good stuff here! OG for early / mornings and Lauer for peak. really nice release! " Piers - Soft Rocks

"Big fan of Verdo! great tunes here as expected. Sezarac fav at first listen." - Dream Chimney

"Little blue is super nice!!" - Phil South (Golf Channel)

"Yes, some great stuff here. Sezerac and the Lauer mix are really great, perfect sunshine session material." - Chris Coco

"I love Big Fish's keyboards! strong!!! Arigato!!!" - Chida

"Little Blue and Big Fish are fun for sure, def will play em on a rooftop sooooon" - Jacques Renault

"Yeah, feeling Little Blue, heavy rotation this Summer! " - Jason Boardman (Aficionado)

"Little Blue, i like." - Lexx

"This is tremendous. Driving peak time track that you can imagine Joe Claussell really working the dancefloor with." - Andrew Pirie

"killer ep guys!!!" - Discodromo