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Cellaa Music are very happy to welcome our great friend Marc Faenger and Label Head Sven Jaeger back to the fold. This one - obviously called B2B Volume 1 features two artists, two universes, two different ways to approach the music theory to form a B2B Cellaa relationship.

Young, skilled and supremely talented, Marc Faenger, is an artist set for great things on the international scene. Marc´s - Nip' contains an infectious groove an elegant labyrinth of percussive dub textures and sinusoidal tones and fast shuffling hats. Deep, fresh and seductively satisfying, this tune was designed for the discerning dancefloor.

Sven Jaeger returns to Cellaa Music with his second release for his label. - Get The Fuck' is a track that immediately commands attention with it's rolling, rich bassline surrounded by punchy, organic drums that delivers a soothing atmosphere. The track is really powerful and works really well on all dance-floors. People love it!'

The first of the remixes comes from the in form, Reelow. His releases have been huge hits, ruling the DJ charts. Here he strips the oringinal of Marc Faenger to it's essential parts. The super dry kickdrum and percussion in combination with the deep subs together create Reelow´s own techno vision.

Next we have Dan Noel providing a soulful tech house surrogate to the original of Mr. Jaeger. His remix has a deeper twist with glittering sounds and a concrete percussive arrangement to convey a fantastic Remix.

2025 Reissue.



Münchenbuchsee, a suburb of Bern, Switzerland. Stephan Eicher is the youngest of three children. His father, a radio and TV repairman, is also a jazz violinist and a sound tinkerer in his spare time. In the family home's converted fallout shelter turned studio, Mr. Eicher experiments with homemade sequencers, tortures handcrafted drum machines, and abuses reel-to-reel tape recorders—all under the fascinated gaze of young Stephan.

The boy quickly develops a musical curiosity, exploring sound through various experiments and wanderings. Alongside his younger brother Martin, Stephan crafts audio plays on a homemade multi-track recorder (essentially several cassette decks hooked together!), which they write, record, add sound effects to, and perform for family and friends. Just a couple of nice kids, really...

Then comes 1972, and Lou Reed's Transformer album changes everything for the Eicher kids. For 13-year-old Stephan, it's a revelation—especially "Vicious", the opening track, which he plays on repeat for months. He convinces his father to buy him an electric guitar. Not stopping there, his father also builds him a tube amp using an old radio.

Then comes adolescence. A rough one. Stephan leaves home at 16 and moves to Zurich. With obvious artistic talent, he persuades his art teacher to help him get into F+F, a radical, alternative art school—despite his young age. Accepted, he starts learning video techniques, determined to become a filmmaker.

At F+F, Stephan organizes Dada-style happenings and concerts with a group of friends known as the Noise Boys. Among them: one of his teachers on bass, Veit Stauffer on drums (who would later found ReR/Recommended Records), his girlfriend Sacha on vocals, and Stephan on guitar. In one of their early performances, they release a remote-controlled mouse covered in dull razor blades into the audience to create panic and chaos. Keeping with this aggressive, confrontational spirit, they once played a concert while wearing headphones blasting Tristan and Isolde, trying to perform their own songs simultaneously—to maximize the cacophony. The goal was always the same: clear the room.

Their “songs,” if you can call them that, followed suit. Take "Hungeriges Afrika", for instance—performed entirely with power drills and some drum feedback.

To make ends meet, Stephan returns to Bern on weekends to work as a waiter at the Spex Club, the city’s main punk venue. On September 16, 1980, during a show by proto-electro group Starter, the police raid the club and arrest everyone. Stephan, who manages to avoid arrest, seizes the opportunity to “borrow” Starter’s gear left behind. He suddenly finds himself in possession of a Roland Promars synth, a Korg MS20, and a gorgeous CR78 drum machine, which he runs through a Big Muff distortion pedal to get that perfect gritty sound.

He then sets out to reinterpret some Noise Boys tracks, reworking them during impromptu sessions recorded on a dictaphone (yes, a dictaphone—now the lo-fi sound makes more sense, doesn’t it?). He ironically titles the resulting cassette "Stephan Eicher spielt Noise Boys" ("Stephan Eicher plays Noise Boys"). This gem features seven tracks, which are the ones reissued here.

Back in Zurich, he visits his friends Andrew Moore and Robert Vogel, who have a DIY cassette duplication setup. They make 25 copies of Stephan Eicher spielt Noise Boys for Stephan and his friends. Robert encourages him to visit Urs Steiger of Off Course Records and play him the tape.

Without much hope, Stephan shows up at Urs’s office. But Urs is instantly hooked and suggests releasing a 7” single. Due to space constraints, they reluctantly drop two of the seven tracks ("Hungeriges Afrika" and "One Second"). As for the musical score featured on the cover—it was randomly chosen and remains a mystery to this day. Calling all music theory nerds!

The 7-inch is pressed in 750 copies and released in the first week of December 1980—a date Stephan remembers well, as it’s the same week John Lennon was killed. Smartly, Urs sends a promo copy to François Murner, Switzerland’s answer to John Peel, who hosts a show on alternative station Sounds. Murner falls in love with the record and starts giving it airtime. To Stephan’s surprise, sales follow—and people actually seem interested in his music.

Even this modest underground success scares Stephan a bit. He stops making music for a year and moves to Bologna, where he works as a programmer at Radio Città, a feminist radio station.

Meanwhile, Stephan’s younger brother Martin, who’s also involved in the punk scene, joins the band Glueams as a singer and guitarist. Glueams, named after the fanzine run by two of its members (drummer Marco Repetto and bassist GT), eventually rebrands as Grauzone. Stephan is invited to their shows to project hacked Super 8 visuals live on stage.

Urs Steiger, now working on a compilation titled Swiss Wave – The Album, asks Grauzone to contribute alongside bands like Liliput, Jack and the Rippers, The Sick, and Ladyshave (Fall 1980).

For the album, Martin tasks Stephan with producing their recording sessions. Under Stephan's artistic direction, two tracks emerge: "Raum" and "Eisbär". During "Eisbär", Martin plays a minimalist bass line borrowed from post-punk band The Feelies (just an open string). Drummer Marco Repetto struggles to keep time. Later that evening, unhappy with the takes, Stephan builds a four-bar drum loop from a ¼-inch tape and uses it instead of the flawed original. He then adds bleepy synths and wind sounds to complete the track’s icy vibe before handing it over to Urs.

The Swiss Wave – The Album compilation is released quietly at first, but things snowball thanks to "Eisbär", which eventually becomes a smash hit—selling over 600,000 singles.

Meanwhile, Stephan plays in a rockabilly band called SMUV (named after Switzerland’s social security agency) and begins producing artists, including the debut album of Starter (1981), which includes a more pop-oriented version of "Minijupe".

By early 1982, Stephan starts spending time with the post-punk girl band Liliput (formerly Kleenex). They’re older than him, and he happily drives them around in his Renault Major, acting as their roadie.

By 1983, Grauzone—signed to the major label EMI, which turned out to be a misstep—is falling apart. Stephan begins to pivot toward a more mainstream pop sound with his debut solo album Les Chansons Bleues.

But that... is already another story.

Altan is arguably the most iconic band working in traditional Irish music today. For the past 35 years, they have brought the music of their native County Donegal to the world stage. The band's newest album, aptly titled Donegal , pays homage to County Donegal's rich musical heritage, breathtaking landscapes, and vibrant culture. The music's authenticity and allure transport listeners to a bygone era in rural Ireland while forging a connection between the past and the present.

Featuring co- founder, lead vocalist, and fiddler Mairead Ni Mhaonaigh ; newest member Clare Friel on vocals and fiddle; accordionist Martin Tourish; guitarists Daithi Sproule and Mark Kelly; and Ciaran Curran on bouzouki and mandolin. With Jim Higgins (percussion), Steve Cooney (bass), and Graham Henderson (keyboards). Recorded by Manus Lunny at Seafront Studio in County Donegal, Ireland.

Chris Menist pares his sound right back for A book of imaginary beings, his fourth Awkward Corners outing with a project of electronic and abstracted global grooves. Experimenting with simple melodies and uncluttered arrangements, as well as taking inspiration from the Borges' short stories alluded to in the title, the project took shape in the early part of 2025, in the shorter days and dark evenings of January.

The initial challenge was to knock a basic track into shape each evening after work, then refine it later. There's a melancholy in the air in late winter, compounded by the creeping threat of national and geopolitical instability. Ulla, Natural Information Society, Jabu, Torso and Dawuna formed some of the background soundtrack as each tune took shape.

The track titles came after sitting with the sounds for a while, giving shape to images of people, creatures and their stories for a book that is yet to be written.

Two former friends sets the tone for the album perfectly as a minimal electronic piece with a slowly simmering synth bassline underpinning the groove whilst the trademark Awkward sound of the Shahi Baaja enters drenched in effects. It's the first demonstration of Chris' unique ability to create a world from apparently very little.

Dance of the silver beetles is completely unique in that we can hear chopped up Illimba samples seemingly playing backwards and forewords sometimes alone, sometimes together in duet with Chris' conga rhythms. Add to that a more conventional Illimba melody and added shaker percussion and you have one of A book of imaginary beings most curious chapters.

Anxious shadow puppets is closer to the Awkward Corners sound from previous albums as electronic pulses move around the arrangement with the urgency that the track title suggests. Chris' percussive roots move to the fore with the congas that tie down the Paradise Bangkok Molam International Band's sound. Here, the bassline is more playful and works together with one of Chris' many African Illimbas.

Fans of Chris' adventures on his Roland 808 will dig A leopard with no spots, although the minimal mood continues to flow through on this track. The lolloping, but hard-hitting rhythm track provides the grounding for strange and twisting feedback-sounding tones to work the soundscape.

Abandoned boy (left in charge of the family business) is Awkward Corners at his atmospheric best. Drift off to the sublime sounds of Chris exploring the Shahi Baaja, whilst a soft, repetitive synth line and abstracted pads give the listener that feeling of meditation and peace.

Flamingo with bandaged neck is A book of imaginary beings' perfect coda and is exclusively Shahi Baaja draped in reverbs and delays. It feels like the resolution and the closing of a book that – as of yet – remains unwritten.

Awkward Corners is Chris Menist, a musician, DJ and writer. It started life as a small project in Islamabad, where Chris was living at the time. Initial recordings were made with local musicians in Pakistan and then subsequently in Thailand. This culminated in the Sweet Decay LP that came out on Finders Keepers' Disposable Music in 2014, and in turn led to a limited tape release on Boomkat/Reel Torque of original compositions and re-edits of Thai 45s the same year. Chris released – Dislocation Songs – his second LP proper with Shapes of Rhythm in May 2020, collaborating on many of the tracks with award-winning performer Sarathy Korwar. The LP was picked up by many radio stations including NTS, Resonance FM, BBC 6 Music, Balamii and many more. It made Tom Ravenscroft's LPs of 2020. Amateur Dramatics, Chris' second LP arrived just a year later in 2021 and was a more ambitious project featuring more jazz-focussed compositions and featuring Tamar Osborn and Kitty Whitelaw. Shortly after that came another pivot with the heavier, dancefloor-friendly EP Somebody Somewhere. Somebody Somewhere is Dancing in a Field brought the House (yes House!) vibes, whilst Hector Plimmer turned in a remix of No Words in the same club mood.

As one of NTS Radio's longest-standing presenters, Chris continues to hold down the Paradise Bangkok show. Playing drums and percussion since he was a kid, Chris is the percussionist for The Paradise Bangkok Molam International Band as well as co-founding the record label of the same name. Chris has curated compilations for labels such as Finders Keepers, Soundway and Dust-To-Digital. He has been featured on the Boiler Room, Vinyl Factory Collections, played at the Four Tet curated Nuits Sonores festival, and has put together an edition of Volumes which featured unreleased Awkward Corners compositions.






[d] 04: All the Goodbyes (You Tried to Defer) [Original]





[j] 10: Abandoned Boy (Left in Charge of the Family Business) [Original]

Rock’n’roll revivalists Split Dogs are not here to make 15 second viral videos, they’re not here to sell you a lifestyle, they’re here to destroy. Born from the frustration of seeing music become commodified and soulless, vocalist Harry Atkins and guitarist Mil Martinez had the idea to form a band as far back as 2015, with the name ‘Split Dogs’ pulled from the classic zombie film ‘Return of the Living Dead’.
In South London, a young Martinez would hear Status Quo, Bachman Turner Overdrive and Dire Straits on the car radio while his father drove him to school. At home he would invade his older brothers’ record collection which leaned towards the harder sounds of punk and heavy metal. Meanwhile in the Black Country, Harry’s mother instilled a love of Northern Soul, Slade and rock’n’roll, with stories of nights out at Club Lafayette and family singalongs at home. According to Martinez, “Our sound is a culmination of all those early influences and, to be honest, it really shows.”
It wasn’t until 2022 that Split Dogs officially arrived on the scene with bass player Suez Boyle joining the band in 2023. Already a prominent figure in the queer punk scene, Suez played the first ever Rebellion Festival at the tender age of 16 with her band The Walking Abortions. Up until that point, drummer Chris Hugall, an old friend of Martinez and former member of ska punks Mouthwash (signed to Rancid’s label Hellcat back in the day), was only on hand to help design artwork. It wasn’t until 2024 Hugall joined the band full time, cementing the current line-up.
The raucous live shows and infectious lyrics saw the four-piece make a name for themselves among the punks of Bristol, a scene that has always welcomed LGBTQ+ and marginalised people. As word spread, so did the gigging, and soon enough Split Dogs were playing to sold out rooms in mainland Europe, eventually grabbing the attention of UK label Venn Records (Gallows, Bob Vylan, High Vis). ‘Here to Destroy’ was recorded over three days at Middle Farm Studios by producer Peter Miles. All tracks were laid straight to a 16 track reel-to-reel tape machine, no autotune, no effects pedals, no computers. To add to the music’s authenticity, the album was recorded live, with Harry singing along in a vocal booth. No cutting and pasting, just nailing takes. According to Martinez, “It was a blast! We fully immersed ourselves, sleeping in a small apartment below the studio, cooking meals and listening to Pete’s extensive record collection”. While the final result is a step away from Split Dogs early punk sound, the attitude is still there in droves. “We wanted the album to have a raw bones feel,” Martinez tells us, “real 1970s rock’n’roll!”. Harry channels the spirit of Motörhead’s Lemmy Kilmister as they tear through hook after hook, singing about the Northern Soul clubs their mother once frequented (‘Lafayette’), the Orwellian nightmare we’re heading for (“Stay Tuned”) and a touching homage to British working class culture (“And What?”). As the album title makes clear, Split Dogs are here to destroy, but they’re also here to rebuild and remind us of music’s essence. “We’re not beholden to the digital age, we don’t want to get famous on social media, we just want to show the world that rock’n’roll is alive and well”.

Kneading dough is tricky – you should know how it’s supposed to feel. If you try too hard you could make it worse. It’s a beautiful practice – creation with a gentle touch, to work at something so it can be left alone. “If it’s too drawn out it’s awful. It’s easy to give too much.” Dance in the mirror. Contemplate your veiny hands. Who do they remind you of?

You begin by mixing flour and water. “What happens when your people die? Why’d they move the rock to the other side of Ulster Park?” Eliza Niemi asks two seemingly unrelated questions in a rising melody with guitar accompaniment, like fingers playing spider up to the nape of your neck. Gentle pressure. Strands of gluten form to bind the mix. A new question lingers in the binding. When she admits “but I don’t know how to tell if I’m feeling it or not,” that question surfaces through the text. It is reiterated throughout the album. When I’m working with dough I think the same thing to myself.

On Progress Bakery, her second album as a solo artist, Eliza knows to leave some questions alone – to let juxtaposition and tension be the proof. It doesn’t have to be hard. The feelings and revelations they provoke rise in the heat. The smell is sweet. Crispy on the outside and soft all the way through. She playfully slip-slides through words and sounds and images, delighting in surprise, skimming ideas like stones cast across clear water, touching down briefly with uncommon grace.

The question provoked between those opening lines resurfaces in the strands between songs – “Do U FM” is fully formed and beautifully layered, while “Novelist Sad Face” is a short, acapella rendering of gentle curiosity. What is holding these ideas together? Some songs demand more, seem to carry a whole load – eventually the skipping stone will halt to sink and resume its idle duty – while others drift in and out of focus, the way thoughts and dreams become interwoven before the mind is sunk into true sleep.

Music and words don’t always have to interact. Where she decides to keep them apart gives a new contour to where and how she puts them together. The kind of thing you’re supposed to take for granted with songs and their singers comes alive in Eliza’s hands – the little miracle of mixing, kneading, stretching, and stopping.

So often on Progress Bakery, Eliza teases out truth and meaning by asking questions. “Do I wanna be crying?” “Do you want me good or do you want me bad?” “Do I need an eye test?” “I’m writing songs in my head while you’re going over stuff with me — is that cruel??” In “Pocky” Eliza ends with a question that feels to me like the actual biography, succinct and revealing:

I don’t wanna be made to see
I just wanna ask “what’s that?”

Grace that ought to be rare, but in its care and precision is offered humbly, with great generosity, and without announcing itself. Eliza’s simple, miraculous music is given further form and shape by a group of collaborators – invaluable guest musicians Jeremy Ray, Evan Cartwright, Steven McPhail, Kenny Boothby, Ed Squires, Carolina Chauffe, Dorothea Paas, Louie Short, and Avalon Tassonyi. Together with Louie Short, who recorded, mixed, and produced the album along with Jeremy Ray and Lukas Cheung, Eliza has cultivated a richness in sound and texture that prods and provokes the ticklish ear. Barely audible guitar tinkering, a brief lo-fi field recording of trumpets, the harmonic clicking of a looped synthesizer, a flourish of reeds, a child’s conversation, each uncanny sound perfectly placed, rippling out under a soft breeze.

Lay in bed alone at night and ask aloud to the stillness,

“What were you doing at the Albuquerque Airport?
What were you doing there??”

And hear your question answered by a dream of swelling, undulating cellos. Try to grasp at the melody and structure. It’s not an answer (if there could be one), but it moves deeper, closer to the weird layer of fleeting moments and disconnected images, barely perceptible at its core. Wait for the dream reel to click into place.

Eliza took me for a ride in Nicole (her beloved Dodge Grand Caravan) and told me she’d been thinking of the album as an embodiment of transition – and I think every transition, known or unknown, carries the weight of new meaning, skittering off the surface tension of life as you know it, creating ripples, sometimes bouncing off and sometimes breaking through. There is a trick you can use to tell if a dough is glutinous enough. You’re supposed to stretch it out as thin as you can without breaking it and hold it up to the light. If you can see through, even if it renders the world murky and uncertain, you should leave it alone. I love this trick. It’s one that Eliza seems to know intuitively: work gently and ask questions and don’t always expect answers, and when you can, take a glimpse at something new, and then leave.

Kneading dough is tricky – you should know how it’s supposed to feel. If you try too hard you could make it worse. It’s a beautiful practice – creation with a gentle touch, to work at something so it can be left alone. “If it’s too drawn out it’s awful. It’s easy to give too much.” Dance in the mirror. Contemplate your veiny hands. Who do they remind you of?

You begin by mixing flour and water. “What happens when your people die? Why’d they move the rock to the other side of Ulster Park?” Eliza Niemi asks two seemingly unrelated questions in a rising melody with guitar accompaniment, like fingers playing spider up to the nape of your neck. Gentle pressure. Strands of gluten form to bind the mix. A new question lingers in the binding. When she admits “but I don’t know how to tell if I’m feeling it or not,” that question surfaces through the text. It is reiterated throughout the album. When I’m working with dough I think the same thing to myself.

On Progress Bakery, her second album as a solo artist, Eliza knows to leave some questions alone – to let juxtaposition and tension be the proof. It doesn’t have to be hard. The feelings and revelations they provoke rise in the heat. The smell is sweet. Crispy on the outside and soft all the way through. She playfully slip-slides through words and sounds and images, delighting in surprise, skimming ideas like stones cast across clear water, touching down briefly with uncommon grace.

The question provoked between those opening lines resurfaces in the strands between songs – “Do U FM” is fully formed and beautifully layered, while “Novelist Sad Face” is a short, acapella rendering of gentle curiosity. What is holding these ideas together? Some songs demand more, seem to carry a whole load – eventually the skipping stone will halt to sink and resume its idle duty – while others drift in and out of focus, the way thoughts and dreams become interwoven before the mind is sunk into true sleep.

Music and words don’t always have to interact. Where she decides to keep them apart gives a new contour to where and how she puts them together. The kind of thing you’re supposed to take for granted with songs and their singers comes alive in Eliza’s hands – the little miracle of mixing, kneading, stretching, and stopping.

So often on Progress Bakery, Eliza teases out truth and meaning by asking questions. “Do I wanna be crying?” “Do you want me good or do you want me bad?” “Do I need an eye test?” “I’m writing songs in my head while you’re going over stuff with me — is that cruel??” In “Pocky” Eliza ends with a question that feels to me like the actual biography, succinct and revealing:

I don’t wanna be made to see
I just wanna ask “what’s that?”

Grace that ought to be rare, but in its care and precision is offered humbly, with great generosity, and without announcing itself. Eliza’s simple, miraculous music is given further form and shape by a group of collaborators – invaluable guest musicians Jeremy Ray, Evan Cartwright, Steven McPhail, Kenny Boothby, Ed Squires, Carolina Chauffe, Dorothea Paas, Louie Short, and Avalon Tassonyi. Together with Louie Short, who recorded, mixed, and produced the album along with Jeremy Ray and Lukas Cheung, Eliza has cultivated a richness in sound and texture that prods and provokes the ticklish ear. Barely audible guitar tinkering, a brief lo-fi field recording of trumpets, the harmonic clicking of a looped synthesizer, a flourish of reeds, a child’s conversation, each uncanny sound perfectly placed, rippling out under a soft breeze.

Lay in bed alone at night and ask aloud to the stillness,

“What were you doing at the Albuquerque Airport?
What were you doing there??”

And hear your question answered by a dream of swelling, undulating cellos. Try to grasp at the melody and structure. It’s not an answer (if there could be one), but it moves deeper, closer to the weird layer of fleeting moments and disconnected images, barely perceptible at its core. Wait for the dream reel to click into place.

Eliza took me for a ride in Nicole (her beloved Dodge Grand Caravan) and told me she’d been thinking of the album as an embodiment of transition – and I think every transition, known or unknown, carries the weight of new meaning, skittering off the surface tension of life as you know it, creating ripples, sometimes bouncing off and sometimes breaking through. There is a trick you can use to tell if a dough is glutinous enough. You’re supposed to stretch it out as thin as you can without breaking it and hold it up to the light. If you can see through, even if it renders the world murky and uncertain, you should leave it alone. I love this trick. It’s one that Eliza seems to know intuitively: work gently and ask questions and don’t always expect answers, and when you can, take a glimpse at something new, and then leave.

Kneading dough is tricky – you should know how it’s supposed to feel. If you try too hard you could make it worse. It’s a beautiful practice – creation with a gentle touch, to work at something so it can be left alone. “If it’s too drawn out it’s awful. It’s easy to give too much.” Dance in the mirror. Contemplate your veiny hands. Who do they remind you of?

You begin by mixing flour and water. “What happens when your people die? Why’d they move the rock to the other side of Ulster Park?” Eliza Niemi asks two seemingly unrelated questions in a rising melody with guitar accompaniment, like fingers playing spider up to the nape of your neck. Gentle pressure. Strands of gluten form to bind the mix. A new question lingers in the binding. When she admits “but I don’t know how to tell if I’m feeling it or not,” that question surfaces through the text. It is reiterated throughout the album. When I’m working with dough I think the same thing to myself.

On Progress Bakery, her second album as a solo artist, Eliza knows to leave some questions alone – to let juxtaposition and tension be the proof. It doesn’t have to be hard. The feelings and revelations they provoke rise in the heat. The smell is sweet. Crispy on the outside and soft all the way through. She playfully slip-slides through words and sounds and images, delighting in surprise, skimming ideas like stones cast across clear water, touching down briefly with uncommon grace.

The question provoked between those opening lines resurfaces in the strands between songs – “Do U FM” is fully formed and beautifully layered, while “Novelist Sad Face” is a short, acapella rendering of gentle curiosity. What is holding these ideas together? Some songs demand more, seem to carry a whole load – eventually the skipping stone will halt to sink and resume its idle duty – while others drift in and out of focus, the way thoughts and dreams become interwoven before the mind is sunk into true sleep.

Music and words don’t always have to interact. Where she decides to keep them apart gives a new contour to where and how she puts them together. The kind of thing you’re supposed to take for granted with songs and their singers comes alive in Eliza’s hands – the little miracle of mixing, kneading, stretching, and stopping.

So often on Progress Bakery, Eliza teases out truth and meaning by asking questions. “Do I wanna be crying?” “Do you want me good or do you want me bad?” “Do I need an eye test?” “I’m writing songs in my head while you’re going over stuff with me — is that cruel??” In “Pocky” Eliza ends with a question that feels to me like the actual biography, succinct and revealing:

I don’t wanna be made to see
I just wanna ask “what’s that?”

Grace that ought to be rare, but in its care and precision is offered humbly, with great generosity, and without announcing itself. Eliza’s simple, miraculous music is given further form and shape by a group of collaborators – invaluable guest musicians Jeremy Ray, Evan Cartwright, Steven McPhail, Kenny Boothby, Ed Squires, Carolina Chauffe, Dorothea Paas, Louie Short, and Avalon Tassonyi. Together with Louie Short, who recorded, mixed, and produced the album along with Jeremy Ray and Lukas Cheung, Eliza has cultivated a richness in sound and texture that prods and provokes the ticklish ear. Barely audible guitar tinkering, a brief lo-fi field recording of trumpets, the harmonic clicking of a looped synthesizer, a flourish of reeds, a child’s conversation, each uncanny sound perfectly placed, rippling out under a soft breeze.

Lay in bed alone at night and ask aloud to the stillness,

“What were you doing at the Albuquerque Airport?
What were you doing there??”

And hear your question answered by a dream of swelling, undulating cellos. Try to grasp at the melody and structure. It’s not an answer (if there could be one), but it moves deeper, closer to the weird layer of fleeting moments and disconnected images, barely perceptible at its core. Wait for the dream reel to click into place.

Eliza took me for a ride in Nicole (her beloved Dodge Grand Caravan) and told me she’d been thinking of the album as an embodiment of transition – and I think every transition, known or unknown, carries the weight of new meaning, skittering off the surface tension of life as you know it, creating ripples, sometimes bouncing off and sometimes breaking through. There is a trick you can use to tell if a dough is glutinous enough. You’re supposed to stretch it out as thin as you can without breaking it and hold it up to the light. If you can see through, even if it renders the world murky and uncertain, you should leave it alone. I love this trick. It’s one that Eliza seems to know intuitively: work gently and ask questions and don’t always expect answers, and when you can, take a glimpse at something new, and then leave.

WHO IS ULTAN O’BRIEN? Ultan O’Brien is a fiddle player and composer from the wilds of County Clare in the West of Ireland. Ultan is a performer as well as a regular at sessions all of Ireland and can be found by chance in any pub in Dublin, Cork or some remote village on the edge of nowhere, flying jigs and reels around the room. Ultan was reared in the rich tradition of Irish music which is so commonly found and heard in Co Clare, but he also delves deep into sound art and experimental music. He has often been heard in the back of a car after a few pints quoting lines from Alvin Lucier or speaking at length about improvisation and its place in modern Irish music. Ultan O’Brien is a fresh and vital player who has much to offer with his unique approach and technique to a tradition so old and ever ready for a subtle change every 100 years or so. Ultan has played and recorded with people and bands such as Skipper’s Alley, Eoghan Ó Ceannabháin, John Francis Flynn, Slow Moving Clouds, Cuar, Laura Jurd, Martin Green, Natalia Beylis, Paul Roe and Nic Gareiss. ‘in its Ultan’s fiddle playing sincerity of tone it reminds me somewhat of those great caoineadh which were played with such elusive grandeur by Denis Murphy and Pádraig O’Keefe’ Adrian Scahill ‘lets the heart brighten and the feet tap’ Richard Hollingum -KlofMag


ABOUT THIS WONDERFUL ALBUM: ‘This album, Dancing the Line, is my first solo album of music played on an alternatively-tune alto fiddle. I found that the resonance and growl of this lower tuned instrument sat me perfectly into the sound-world I wanted to be in, giving vibrancy to my own compositions and nestling into the traditional music I grew up with.’

Poet, novelist, musician and academic, Anthony Joseph teams up with legendary UK producer Dave Okumu for forthcoming album, ‘Rowing Up River To Get Our Names Back’

Dave Okumu, known perhaps best as frontman for The Invisible, though digging deeper into his production credits, huge names emerge such as; Grace Jones, Amy Winehouse, Jesse Ware, Rosie Lowe and Eska. On this album, the magic and alchemy of Dave’s production style showcase subtle sonics and deep layering resulting in a contemporary sound to carry Anthony’s afrofuturistic metrical meanings.

Anthony and Dave first came across each other when working with Shabaka Hutchings during Covid broadcasts, and then after Anthony performed some poems on Dave’s 2023 album ‘I Came From Love’, the seeds of collaboration were sown.

With a little more psychedelia, a little more experimentation, Dave’s eclectic vision focuses on the actual sounds on these pieces. Anthony stated that “The best producers guide you, not push you” now add to that the fact that both these humans were born on the same day, a concoction of laid back attitudes in people with strong purpose, some real magic can happen, naturally.

Early writing sessions for this record took place in 2022, around Mount Blanc in France. Anthony was away touring with long-time collaborator, Jason Yarde. Ideas were a little thin and they found themselves somewhat repeating previous work resulting in Anthony rethinking things a little, and so entered Dave Okumu.

LP opener ‘Satellite’ is a fine example of how this new partnership pans out. New musicians have been enlisted; Dan See (Drums), Aviram Barath (Synths), Nick Ramm on Fender Rhodes and Byron Wallen (Trumpet). Add to that the mighty vocal power house of Eska and we have a whole new dimension of soul and depth, to carry Anthony’s statements. “You build a wall, we go under, you build it higher, we go higher, like a satellite” .

On the album's second single, ‘Tony’ - there’s a nod to all drummers and creators of African rhythms, from the point of view of Afrobeat legend Tony Allen. Highlighting this is drummer’s drummer Richard Spaven as Dave’s choice of skin beater. He successfully reminds us that Tony was someone who understood the real power of rhythm and how it is used to unite people.

As well as the new musicians on this LP, Dave Okumu played all the guitars and used the studio as his tool. On ‘A Juba for Janet’ - a poem to Joseph’s mother, and a track so bass heavy that it feels as though it could sit in a deep dubstep set in Plastic People days, - Anthony’s voice reaches straight down your ear canals next to dark drums, huge synths and delayed saxophone stabs from Colin Webster. Slightly more introspective verses on ‘An Afrofuturist Poem’ see Dave’s beats show off the real future sound of this record, kalimba, moog bass and guitars all played by the man himself.

Mellower and deeper moments are also present, Anthony’s cryptic yet informative storytelling is at its absolute best on ‘Churches Of Sound (The Benetiz-Rojo)’ - Caribbean and Windrush history reeled off alongside a linear musical timeline of Black music in the diaspora.

A reminder that this body of work is first of 2 volumes, ‘Rowing Up River To Get Our Names Back’ is not a follow up to Anthony’s previous album, but more a development of his 2006 novel, ‘The African Origins of UFOs’ a book where experimental elements of afro-futurism, metafiction, science fiction, surrealism, mythology are rewritten in Anthony’s innovative language. Look out for Volume 2 also coming in 2025.

Anthony Joseph releases, ‘Rowing Up River To Get Our Names Back’ (Vol. 1) via Heavenly Sweetness 7th February 2025 and he will play live at Ronnie Scotts in London on 14th March 2025, with Dave Okumu as a special guest.

CREDITS:

Vocals - Anthony Joseph

Additional vocals, vocal arrangements - Eska Mtungwazi

Producer - Guitars, Bass, Moog, Synthesisers, Programming, Percussion - Dave Okumu

Drums - Dan See

Drums on ‘Tony’ - Richard Spaven

Synthesiser - Aviram Barath

Fender Rhodes, Synthesisers, Nick Ramm

Trumpet - Byron Wallen

Saxophones - Colin Webster

Trombones - James Wade Sired

The only album to soundtrack both late-'70s Minneapolis lounges and a Travis Scott x Dior fashion show. Recorded in a host of living rooms with only a Fender Rhodes piano, a Donca Matic Mini Pops drum machine, and Senrick's wide-eyed, 20-year-old voice, the 1977 LP disappeared into the wild and joined the Wendigo in Minnesota lore. A provocative mix of marina soul, easy listening, and loner folk, Dreamin' is a sanguine sliver of the American private mind garden. Harsh winters coupled with a relative lack of interest amongst siblings allowed Chuck Senrick years of unfettered access to the family piano in their Farmington, Minnesota, home. Learning both by ear and by instruction, Senrick began gigging professionally at age 15, joining John Zimmer and the CR4 for a weekly rundown of Allman Brothers, Blind Faith, and Cream covers at the Sea Girt Inn in Lake Orchard. Tapping into James Taylor's pop-chart achievements in songwriting and enunciation, Senrick composed the bulk of the songs featured on Dreamin' before graduating from Farmington High School. At 20, Senrick migrated 30 miles north to the Twin Cities to pursue music full-time. Using borrowed equipment and borrowed living rooms, a string of informal recording sessions generated the quarter-inch tape for Dreamin'. "I didn't know how to do it," Senrick says about producing an album. "I just knew it could be done." Constructed with vocals, Fender Rhodes, and an assortment of rhythm presets on his Donca Matic Mini Pops drum machine, a mere 200 copies of the private-press masterpiece were stamped and sleeved and sold hand-to-hand at performances. Chuck's wife Lesli illustrated the album cover_a pen-to-paper portrait of her husband against the backdrop of the Minneapolis Skyline, she and their newborn son situated on a nearby knoll. Any plans for a re-press were quashed when producer Bruce W. Hansen lost the reels during a messy divorce. "I was a kid with big ideas and not much hope to do anything but play," Senrick said of the Dreamin' era. "It still amazes me that people are interested in it."

Disco-Soul-Funk Album With Mixed From The Original Multi-Track Tapes By Kenny Dope! Tucked in the back corner of a linen closet in Macon, Georgia since 1979 sat a box that very few people knew existed. Lost and presumed forgotten, this box contained reel-to-reel tapes of the lost album by the band that issued the lauded Black Gold as The Mighty Chevelles in 1977. By 1979, while transitioning to the name Music Makers Band, the band entered Capricorn Studios and recorded this disco funk opus, finally issued as You Can Be.Nearly all songs have been remixed from the original multi-track masters by Kenny "Dope" Gonzalez.

Captures a night at London’s well known vintage venue Bush Hall when the stage was shared with Jerron ‘Blind Boy’ Paxton. Takes you on a musical journey through Mississippi and Louisiana performing music by artists such as Memphis Minnie, Blind Boy Fuller, Rev Gary Davis. Acoustic duo project of Sister Suzie and Andy Twyman. Part of a growing movement in the UK presenting stripped back acoustic blues. Be ready to be transported back to the 1920s with a show of early folk blues evoking the playfulness, power and soul of the music and the people who created it. The duo are singer/songwriter, guitarist, occasional member of Dana Gillespie’s Blues Band and sometime one-man-band Andy Twyman, and Sister Suzie, singer/songwriter and frontperson of The Right Band; both busy and popular artists in their own right. They have toured the UK and Europe extensively.

Nothing In Rambling as the project name is taken from a Memphis Minnie song which Sister Suzie describes as “very poignant – and like so many in that era, it sounds deceptively cheery and upbeat, but the lyrics are dark, telling a tale of danger and bravery in taking to the road rambling especially as a black person. and the struggles that women, especially black women, faced in that era.” Sister Suzie published a dissertation “Women In The Blues, Pre-1960’ detailing the struggle that women, especially black women, had against the ‘patriarchy’ and in their own sexual liberation. The latter element was often written about observing the ‘racy’ side of life, and on songs such as ‘Me And My Chauffeur’ and ‘Kissing In The Dark’ Sister Suzie takes the cue to deliver with particular juke joint panache. PRESS / ADDITIONAL SALES POINTS: Launched at The Sound Lounge (Sutton) September 12th - Feature published in September issue of Blues In Britain magazine - Reviews in Rock n Reel, Blues In Britain, Blues Matters - Radio play on IBBA and RMR stations - Live shows, and Festival appearances through 2024 – Red Rooster, Ealing Blues, Upton Blues, Tenby Blues, Glastonbury

The records is released in two options. Both hvae 180g vinyl records. The first version has two black vinyls and the second limited edition (numbered 100 pieces) has one turquoise vinyl and the other red.

Over the last three decades, Auckland, New Zealand, has given birth to several generations of musicians, DJs, and producers who operated within the interzone between jazz, blues, soul, funk, Latin music, hip-hop, house, boogie, and broken beat. Across two slow-cooked albums that sit at the intersection of machine funk and vivid live instrumentation, Odyssey (2016) and their forthcoming sophomore release Long Road (2024), After 'Ours - the group project of pianist and composer Michal Martyniuk and drummer, guitarist and producer Nick Williams - have comfortably located themselves within this antipodean tradition.

Born and raised in Auckland, Nick Williams grew up surrounded by music from a young age. At home, his mother, Mary Anne, a record collector and DJ with deep, diverse vinyl crates, kept his ear sharp. By the time he was eight years old, he was regularly joining his musician father on stages across Australia in his blues rock band Slippery Sam. In his early twenties, Nick began leading the eleven-piece Auckland Latin-dub-funk fusion big band Tangent, who performed regularly until the late 2000s.

Michal Martyniuk, on the other hand, grew up on the opposite side of the world in Szczecin, Poland. After playing classical music for twelve years and attending jazz school, he relocated to New Zealand with his family in his teens. While studying at Auckland University Jazz school, Michal came into the orbit of the legendary New Zealand saxophonist, composer, producer, and band leader Nathan Haines, who brought him into the same world as future collaborators like Tama Waipara, Batacada Sound Machine, Sola Rosa and Nick.

Inspired by the rich stories of jazz, neo-soul, electronica, and dance music from both sides of the Atlantic Ocean and the open-eared Auckland scene they emerged from, After 'Ours formed in 2011. Born out of a friendship cultivated through playing together at bars and nightclubs around town and home studio sessions. "Nick had family and work, so I had to wait all day," Michal says. "We'd come to the studio at 10 PM and go till 3 AM. That's how we came up with the name.

Session by session, After 'Ours revealed itself to be a creatively fertile meeting of minds. "We both have our angles, but it works well in the end," Nick reflects. "It takes the music to a place we can't get to by ourselves."

Between 2011 and 2016, they wrote and recorded Odyssey with a cast of musical collaborators that included KP, Sharlene Hector & Kevin Mark Trail (UK), Matt Nanai, Nathan Haines, Jakub Skowronski, Nick's partner Ange Williams (nee Saunders) and British producer Mike Patto from the lauded UK future jazz group Reel People. Influenced by the smooth yacht rock of Steely Dan and Donald Fagan, the warm midtempo bounce of A Tribe Called Quest and J Dilla, and the complex jazz/RnB bop of Robert Glasper, Odyssey was a labour of love that emphasised community, warm-hearted hospitality, and care.

Seven years on, they're finally ready to return with Long Road, an album that contains some of their best work yet. As well as reconnecting with past collaborators Kevin Mark Trail and Ange Williams, Long Road sees After 'Ours calling on assistance from Louis Baker, Jakarta-based saxophone player Kuba Skowroński, bassist Dan Antunovich, Los Angeles-based drummer Chris Bailey and the journeyman British soul artist Omar Lyefook.

Across ten songs that plot a stargazed course through their antipodean spin on UK broken beat, jazz, modern soul, and blues rock, Nick and Michal build on everything they learned while writing and recording Odyssey. In the process, they take their joyful musical visions to sublime new heights.

The records is released in two options. Both hvae 180g vinyl records. The first version has two black vinyls and the second limited edition (numbered 100 pieces) has one turquoise vinyl and the other red.

Over the last three decades, Auckland, New Zealand, has given birth to several generations of musicians, DJs, and producers who operated within the interzone between jazz, blues, soul, funk, Latin music, hip-hop, house, boogie, and broken beat. Across two slow-cooked albums that sit at the intersection of machine funk and vivid live instrumentation, Odyssey (2016) and their forthcoming sophomore release Long Road (2024), After 'Ours - the group project of pianist and composer Michal Martyniuk and drummer, guitarist and producer Nick Williams - have comfortably located themselves within this antipodean tradition.

Born and raised in Auckland, Nick Williams grew up surrounded by music from a young age. At home, his mother, Mary Anne, a record collector and DJ with deep, diverse vinyl crates, kept his ear sharp. By the time he was eight years old, he was regularly joining his musician father on stages across Australia in his blues rock band Slippery Sam. In his early twenties, Nick began leading the eleven-piece Auckland Latin-dub-funk fusion big band Tangent, who performed regularly until the late 2000s.

Michal Martyniuk, on the other hand, grew up on the opposite side of the world in Szczecin, Poland. After playing classical music for twelve years and attending jazz school, he relocated to New Zealand with his family in his teens. While studying at Auckland University Jazz school, Michal came into the orbit of the legendary New Zealand saxophonist, composer, producer, and band leader Nathan Haines, who brought him into the same world as future collaborators like Tama Waipara, Batacada Sound Machine, Sola Rosa and Nick.

Inspired by the rich stories of jazz, neo-soul, electronica, and dance music from both sides of the Atlantic Ocean and the open-eared Auckland scene they emerged from, After 'Ours formed in 2011. Born out of a friendship cultivated through playing together at bars and nightclubs around town and home studio sessions. "Nick had family and work, so I had to wait all day," Michal says. "We'd come to the studio at 10 PM and go till 3 AM. That's how we came up with the name.

Session by session, After 'Ours revealed itself to be a creatively fertile meeting of minds. "We both have our angles, but it works well in the end," Nick reflects. "It takes the music to a place we can't get to by ourselves."

Between 2011 and 2016, they wrote and recorded Odyssey with a cast of musical collaborators that included KP, Sharlene Hector & Kevin Mark Trail (UK), Matt Nanai, Nathan Haines, Jakub Skowronski, Nick's partner Ange Williams (nee Saunders) and British producer Mike Patto from the lauded UK future jazz group Reel People. Influenced by the smooth yacht rock of Steely Dan and Donald Fagan, the warm midtempo bounce of A Tribe Called Quest and J Dilla, and the complex jazz/RnB bop of Robert Glasper, Odyssey was a labour of love that emphasised community, warm-hearted hospitality, and care.

Seven years on, they're finally ready to return with Long Road, an album that contains some of their best work yet. As well as reconnecting with past collaborators Kevin Mark Trail and Ange Williams, Long Road sees After 'Ours calling on assistance from Louis Baker, Jakarta-based saxophone player Kuba Skowroński, bassist Dan Antunovich, Los Angeles-based drummer Chris Bailey and the journeyman British soul artist Omar Lyefook.

Across ten songs that plot a stargazed course through their antipodean spin on UK broken beat, jazz, modern soul, and blues rock, Nick and Michal build on everything they learned while writing and recording Odyssey. In the process, they take their joyful musical visions to sublime new heights.

Simple Reality cements the short lived legacy of Coventry DIY group Skeet.

Emerging from a scene of first-generation punks and 2 Tone kids, Skeet was instigated by Gary and Nigel Meffen in 1981, fusing tightrope instrumentals with a Roland CR-8000 under the glow of projected visuals. After a cassette of their debut performance found its way to Kay Booth who worked at Inferno Records, the unsuspecting frontwoman took the liberty of adding her own vocals. Instantly embraced as a permanent member, Booth’s shy delivery and open-diary expressions of social alienation and romantic rejection hovered over the brothers’ scratchy guitar and agitated bass.

Playing as few as 10 shows, their unnerving minimalism was recorded in a suburban home studio, borrowing a reel-to-reel from Toby Lyons (The Colourfield) and a mixer from Jerry Dammers (The Specials). Record labels gestured interest until one day they were no more - no arguments, no official split, just a silent parting of the ways and three people taking journeys in different directions. Unheard and unloved in the vaults for nearly four decades, 'Brief Call' finally resurfaced via the Coventry Music Museum compendium Alternative Sounds Volume 1, followed by a micro pressing of the full suite on Chris Long’s Almost Unknown imprint in 2023.

Simple Reality now offers a definitive snapshot of these must-hear neurotic post-punks. Mastered by Skeet fanatic Mikey Young, newly discovered instrumental multitracks are restored alongside a live recording of their final stand. Performed atop of a trailer in a pub beer garden, the release-worthy desk tape adds three new tracks and a more energised swing at ‘Left On the Shelf’s apathetic techno-pop.

RIYL: Fire Engines, 23 Skidoo, A Certain Ratio, Young Marble Giants, pel mel

Over 10 years ago, Leon Michels released his first full length record, Sounding Out The City. It was Michels' first full length record under the moniker El Michels Affair. At the time, the budding retro soul scene consisted of mostly organ quartets a la The Meters and of course, Sharon Jones & The Dap Kings were in the early days of their ascent to world domination. Leon Michels, who was 18 when recording Sounding Out The City began, had just released Thunder Chicken, the first record by his high school band The Mighty Imperials. At the time of SOTC, Michels was just discovering early rocksteady, afrobeat, and 60's garage rock, which inevitably crept its way into the songwriting. He purchased a Tascam 388, an 80's 1/4" reel to reel 8 track intended for home recordings, and began recording music in a 10x10 box with no windows that also doubled as his childhood bedroom. Along with fellow Mighty Imperials Nick Movshon, Homer Steinweiss, and Sean Solomon, and Michael Leonhart, Thomas Brenneck, and some of the musicians from The Dap Kings, Michels recorded the LP over a two year period. Upon it's release, it received some rave reviews and the small deep funk community ate it up, but due to the lack luster promotion and distribution the rest of the world was slow to catch on to the instrumental gems featured on SOTC, which Michels appropriately labelled as "cinematic soul". However, in 2005 it found it's way into the hands of the people who were organizing a series of concerts for Scion that paired bands with MC's. El Michels Affair was contacted about playing one show with Raekwon The Chef of Wu Tang Clan fame. The show was such a success it led to a tour, and then to another set of concerts that featured multiple members of the Wu-Tang Clan. This eventually led to the release of El Michels Affair's second record, "Enter the 37th Chamber" which introduced them to a much larger audience and has been their most successful release to date. Michels has since gone on to produce and co-produce numerous records for powerhouse soul artists like Lee Fields. He shares songwriting credits with Adele, Jay-Z, Ghostface Killah, Aloe Blacc, and has played on records by Ray LaMontagne, Lana Del Rey, The Black Keys and Dr. John.

Repress.

Back in print and just in time for summer relaxation. It's hard to believe this album came out over 10 years ago. Back then we thought it was too rough for consumption, were we wrong! Today, “Songs” can be heard on hundreds of playlists around the world and still attracts listeners with its unique sonic grit. It became a template for LOFI producers and has even been featured in multiple Thrasher skate videos. Its appeal continues to cross genres and remains entirely random, but unmistakably Dwight. If you missed out on this album the first time, it's your chance to get that first PPU restoration of Dwight's solo songs from the 80s. This is the restoration that took over 2 years and included; phones held up to speakers, cassette to 1/4 reel transfers, Tascam manipulations, scotch tape, and a pair of scissors.

Dwight Sykes aka Sporty Cat, was born February 27, 1956 in Nettleton, Mississippi. At the age of two Dwight and family moved to Kalamazoo, Michigan where he would remain for most of his younger years. At the age of nine Dwight started his musical career singing background vocals with a spiritual group, Airs of Harmony, Jr., now known as the Michigan Nightingales. After three years of signing, Dwight started playing guitar. He joined his first r&B band, The Kenyatahs, at age thirteen and then played for five years with the group. Following the break up of the group and the death of his mother, Dwight enlisted in the U.S. Army. During that time he played guitar and drums for the band 100% Pure Poison. They played throughout Germany for 18 months. After being honorably discharged, and back in the states, Dwight started playing in numerous local Michigan bands including Domain, and Chaos. Eager to write his own material, Dwight created the group Jahari. They toured for a couple of years in the Michigan area until another break-up. Still under the Jahari alias, Dwight wrote "Situations" which received respectable air-play on Michigan local radio stations, WKMI, WQXC, WRDR, WKZO and WKDS. Dwight now resides near Atlanta, Georgia. He continues to write and produce songs on his Tascam 464 four track console. Although he uses other avenues to provide for the upkeep of himself and son, his love of music keep the hope alive that he will one day get that big break in the music business. Dwight Sykes - Songs Volume One is a collection of material written, produced and recorded by Dwight Sykes on 4-Track Cassette, in his home studio L.U.S.T. Productions.

The female-led discodelic soul band Say She She, named as a silent nod to NileRodgers (C'est chi-chi!: It's Chic!"), release their sophomore album `Silver' on theheels of an epic break-out year that grows brighter by the day. The three strong voices of Piya Malik (El Michels Affair staple feature, and formerbacking singer for Chicano Batman), Sabrina Mileo Cunningham and Nya GazelleBrown front the band. This harmonizing trio was formed in a classic New York taleof friends that met by following the music: the downtown dancefloors, through theLower East Side floorboards and up to the rooftops of Harlem. `Silver' was entirely written and recorded live to tape at Killion Sound studio inNorth Hollywood earlier this year and produced by Sergio Rios (of Orgone). Whilethese analog recording techniques help root Say She She's sound in a bedrock oftonal warmth that only tape can achieve, it is also their process of cutting the trackin the moment and capturing the magic of communal creativity that has seen theirsound described as "a glorious overload of joyful elation and spiritualelevation" (MOJO) and "infused with the wonky post-disco spirit of early'80s NYC" (The Guardian). Silver, the element, is known as the metal of self-confidence and the mirror of thesoul. With that, the 16-song double-LP projects not only their growth in writingwith confidence, but also reflects a deeper exploration into their punk-chic, femme-forward sensibility. Ultimately, `Silver' oozes with quirk and adventure and embraces themultifaceted nature of what it means to be a modern femme. The She She'sfully embrace their role as beauticians, actively reminding people of the inherentbeauty in the world. They skillfully employ double entendres and humor toencourage open dialogue and fearlessly address important matters that demandattention.