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Main Source’s paean to the simple pleasures of relaxing with friends is built over two tried-and-tested samples. The dreamy, swoony sounds of Vanessa Kendrick’s timeless ‘90% of Me is You’ is ever-present during this stone-cold classic, while Sister Nancy’s unmistakeable ‘Bam Bam’ lends several elements to the mix. Throw in some Skull Snaps and Sweet Charles and you’ve got the perfect soundtrack for a roll call of Large Professor’s nearest and dearest.

There are plenty of reasons why so many regard ‘Breaking Atoms’ as an all-time classic album, and the sheer variety of singles lifted from it is chief among them. Large Professor was happy to roam over varied topics at a time when many rappers had a manic focus on one thing.

And where better to hang out with friends than at a barbecue? ‘Live at the Barbecue’ is rightly regarded as one of the best posse cuts of all time, and famous for showcasing the debut of one Nasty Nas. While he delivers a dope verse full of quotables over drums from Bob James’ oft-plundered ‘Nautilus’, credit is also due to the other guests. Fatal and Akinyele aren’t disgraced in this company, and Large Professor tops it off with a rare verse of pure brag-rap.

An undisputed entry in the pantheon of head-nod hip-hop, this is its first official UK release, and another debut on 7”.

• Samples Sister Nancy’s unmistakeable ‘Bam Bam’

• Taken from the all-time classic album ‘Breaking Atoms’

• Features the debut of Nas

Generally speaking, albums are created over the course of a few weeks, months, or years. However when it comes to Airplane Mode, not only has it spanned the latter, but its DNA was formed across two continents, a multitude of significant life changes, and an overall renaming of the projects title.

What started as a collaboration effort morphed in to a sonic space that Tall Black Guy used to highlight questions many of us frequently ask, but struggle to answer; Why am I here? Am I enough? What makes me happy? How do I move forward? What does real love feel like? Although the answers may be different for us all, Airplane Mode sets the path that the listeners use to reach their own conclusion.

In closing, rarely does 40 minutes capture the essence of so many different facades of an artist’s process, and personal transition. As intimate as the album may be, Tall Black Guy leaves room for people to shape their own interpretation by what they bring to the listening experience. Airplane Mode demands your complete consideration, and is intended to be consumed without skips, or interruptions. In other words, sit back, relax, and put your mind in….Airplane Mode!

TERMINAL BLISS makes their Relapse Records debut with the unrelenting album Brute Err/atta! A veritable who’s who of Virginia punk, the band features vocalist Chris and guitarist Mike Taylor (Pg. 99 and Pygmy Lush), drummer Ryan Parrish (Darkest Hour, Iron Reagan, City of Caterpillar) and bassist Adam Juresko (City of Caterpillar). Inspired by the likes of Born Against, Gauze and Void—not to mention Black Flag, Crass, Negative Approach, Disrupt, Necros, Crossed Out and Disclose—TERMINAL BLISS conducted their first band practice on January 14 th, 2020. Just six weeks and five practices later, they were recording their full-length debut with Majority Rule frontman Matt Michel in the engineer’s chair. The name TERMINAL BLISS was born out of the merciless consumerism and environmental destruction that are America’s enduring legacy. From dystopian, sci-fi themes in tracks such as “March of the Grieving Droid”, to the apathy of the checked-out masses on “Small One Time Fee” and the personal recount of loss and the inefficacy of our healthcare system in "Clean Bill of Wealth", it’s the merging of personal experience and social critique that has informed the punk edge behind the members of TERMINAL BLISS for decades now. For TERMINAL BLISS, it’s become a crucial combination born of decades of playing live. (Unfortunately, the band’s first show was cancelled when the US began its COVID-19 lockdown.) “I realized early on that if you don’t write something that resonates with yourself on a fundamental level, it’s going to get trite when you’re performing night after night,” Chris Taylor says. “So, with the idea in mind that we’ll eventually play shows, I always try to write something that will resonate.”

For a band that resists repeating itself, picking up lessons from a decade prior is the strange route Cloud Nothings took to create their most fully-realized album. Their new record, The Shadow I Remember, marks eleven years of touring, a return to early songwriting practices, and revisiting the studio where they first recorded together.

In a way not previously captured, this album expertly combines the group’s pummeling, aggressive approach with singer-songwriter Dylan Baldi’s extraordinary talent for perfect pop. To document this newly realized maturity, the group returned to producer Steve Albini and his Electrical Audio studios in Chicago, where the band famously destroyed its initial reputation as a bedroom solo project with the release of 2012 album Attack on Memory.

Another throwback was Baldi’s return to constant songwriting à la the early solo days, which led to the nearly 30 demos that became the 11 songs on The Shadow I Remember. Instead of sticking to a tried-but-true formula, his songwriting stretched out while digging deeper into his melodic talents. “I felt like I was locked in a character,” Baldi says of becoming a reliable supplier of heavy, hook-filled rock songs. “I felt like I was playing a role and not myself. I really didn’t like that role.” More frequent writing led to the freedom in form heard on The Shadow I Remember. What he can’t do alone is get loud and play noisily, which is exactly what happened when the entire band— bassist TJ Duke, guitarist Chris Brown, and drummer Jayson Gerycz—convened.

The band had more fun in the studio than they’ve had in years, playing in their signature, pulverizing way, while also trying new things. The absurdly catchy “Nothing Without You” includes a first for the band: Macie Stewart of Ohmme contributes guest vocals. Elsewhere, celebrated electronic composer Brett Naucke adds subtle synthesizer parts.

The songs are kept trim, mostly around the three-minute mark, while being gleefully overstuffed. Almost every musical part turns into at least two parts, with guitar and drums opening up and the bass switching gears. “That’s the goal—I want the three-minute song to be an epic,” Baldi says. “That’s the short version of the long-ass jam.”

Lyrically, Baldi delivers an aching exploration of tortured existence, punishing self-doubt, and the familiar pangs of oppressive mystery. “Am I something?” Baldi screams on the song of the same name. “Does anybody living out there really need me?” It’s a heartbreaking admission of existential confusion, delivered hoarsely, with an instantly relatable melody.

“Is this the end/ of the life I've known?” he asks on lead single and album opener “Oslo.” “Am I older now/ or am I just another age?” Despite the questioning lyrics, the band plays with more assurance and joy than ever before. The Shadow I Remember announces Cloud Nothings’ second decade and it sounds like a new beginning.

For a band that resists repeating itself, picking up lessons from a decade prior is the strange route Cloud Nothings took to create their most fully-realized album. Their new record, The Shadow I Remember, marks eleven years of touring, a return to early songwriting practices, and revisiting the studio where they first recorded together.

In a way not previously captured, this album expertly combines the group’s pummeling, aggressive approach with singer-songwriter Dylan Baldi’s extraordinary talent for perfect pop. To document this newly realized maturity, the group returned to producer Steve Albini and his Electrical Audio studios in Chicago, where the band famously destroyed its initial reputation as a bedroom solo project with the release of 2012 album Attack on Memory.

Another throwback was Baldi’s return to constant songwriting à la the early solo days, which led to the nearly 30 demos that became the 11 songs on The Shadow I Remember. Instead of sticking to a tried-but-true formula, his songwriting stretched out while digging deeper into his melodic talents. “I felt like I was locked in a character,” Baldi says of becoming a reliable supplier of heavy, hook-filled rock songs. “I felt like I was playing a role and not myself. I really didn’t like that role.” More frequent writing led to the freedom in form heard on The Shadow I Remember. What he can’t do alone is get loud and play noisily, which is exactly what happened when the entire band— bassist TJ Duke, guitarist Chris Brown, and drummer Jayson Gerycz—convened.

The band had more fun in the studio than they’ve had in years, playing in their signature, pulverizing way, while also trying new things. The absurdly catchy “Nothing Without You” includes a first for the band: Macie Stewart of Ohmme contributes guest vocals. Elsewhere, celebrated electronic composer Brett Naucke adds subtle synthesizer parts.

The songs are kept trim, mostly around the three-minute mark, while being gleefully overstuffed. Almost every musical part turns into at least two parts, with guitar and drums opening up and the bass switching gears. “That’s the goal—I want the three-minute song to be an epic,” Baldi says. “That’s the short version of the long-ass jam.”

Lyrically, Baldi delivers an aching exploration of tortured existence, punishing self-doubt, and the familiar pangs of oppressive mystery. “Am I something?” Baldi screams on the song of the same name. “Does anybody living out there really need me?” It’s a heartbreaking admission of existential confusion, delivered hoarsely, with an instantly relatable melody.

“Is this the end/ of the life I've known?” he asks on lead single and album opener “Oslo.” “Am I older now/ or am I just another age?” Despite the questioning lyrics, the band plays with more assurance and joy than ever before. The Shadow I Remember announces Cloud Nothings’ second decade and it sounds like a new beginning.

‘Little Oblivions’ is the third studio album by Julien Baker. Recorded in Memphis, TN, the record weaves together unflinching autobiography with assimilated experience and hard-won observations from the past few years, taking Baker’s capacity for storytelling to new heights.
It also marks a sonic shift, with the songwriter’s intimate piano and guitar arrangements newly enriched by bass, drums, keyboards, banjo and mandolin, with nearly all of the instruments performed by Baker.

Wyvern Lingo are ready to reveal another taste of their highly-anticipated second album ‘Awake You Lie’, in the shape of record opener ‘Only Love, Only Light’. “This album is so much about us comforting each other. It’s about being in your late-twenties, when all the pieces are starting to settle into place and you worry whether or not you’ve made the right moves” - Wyvern Lingo, October 2020. ‘Awake You Lie’ will be released on Friday 26th February. Recorded in JRS studios in Berlin pre-COVID, with the final tweaks managed in lockdown Ireland, ‘Awake You Lie’ comes almost two years to the day after their widely acclaimed, Choice Music Prize-nominated, debut album. The tracks released thus far, accompanied by videos filmed in both Berlin and Bray, show a band brimming with confidence in their sound, relaxed in their environment, but still ready to ask hard questions about their place in the world. To describe Wyvern Lingo as ‘tight-knit’ wouldn’t even cover it - they have long debunked the myth that you can’t choose your family. After all, the band was formed in Bray in a teenage world of self-discovery, soundtracked by the 60's/70's music of their parents, and the 90's/00's R'n'B of their childhood. If anything, the band - Caoimhe Barry, Karen Cowley and Saoirse Duane - are closer than ever two years on from their first album, a steely, us-against-the-world determination that has its roots in their origin story. If the self-titled first album caught the band on the cusp of transitioning from folky songstresses to R’n’B/alt-pop influenced players, then ‘Awake You Lie’ sees Wyvern Lingo fully immersed in who they are as a band - superb musicians and supernatural harmonisers with a gimlet eye to spear the ever shifting mores of modern relationships, both intimate and platonic. The album title - ‘Awake You Lie’ - is taken from a line in the new song ‘Aurora’, the phones-aloft, showstopper that closes side 1 of the record. The band add: “A recurring image during this album writing process was light, the lack thereof, and wanting to see things more clearly, for ourselves and others. We called the album "Awake You Lie" because it evokes an image of night-time when someone should be sleeping but can’t, due to restlessness or worry..

Drumcode LTD gets a relaunch with the first original EP since 2018. Sweden’s Patrick Seich returns following ‘Rivers Will Turn’, his blistering collaboration with Sebastian Mullaert in 2016. This time a debut link up with Sandra Mosh is on the cards, a fellow underground mainstay of the Swedish techno scene, with caps at Berghain and Sonár Reykavik also to her name.

The four-track offering is a colourful trip through a range of techno moods. ‘Relicta’ is a trippy concoction driven by papery drums and ricocheting synths. ‘Terma’ is brimming with bouncy peak-time spirit. ‘Red Flag’ takes a tougher turn, pummelling with 2am intensity. ‘Square Side’ is a delicious head caver, driven by an unrelenting synth lead.

-LTD. 180G RED VINYL-

Jonathan Bree's fourth album `After The Curtains Close' sees the producers trademark orchestral pop take a few unexpected turns both into the experimental and into kitschy territory populated by some of his french heroes of the 1960s. The end result is an album that retains Bree's musical DNA while being fun and varied. What could be described as Bree's `sleazy' album could also be described as Bree's break-up album. Dealing with the break-down of a major relationship Bree opens up to reveal a year of loneliness and mental trauma while also channelling positive feelings by embracing sex and sleaze in his music, subject material more traditionally reserved for the single man. Bree strikes a great balance here between darkness and silliness and he does this without appearing snide, which is a line some artists can seem all too happy to cross. Bree's vocals are on display in a full range of styles, his baritone croon jumps octaves and everywhere in between across the 12 tracks and he is even present singing his own back-up vocals in child like falsetto. Opening track `Happy Daze' is a ray of heady sunshine and wall of strings celebrating worrying about nothing else while in a lovers arms. First single `Waiting on The Moment' has been accurately described as a celebratory break-up song, with cynical and slightly mean lyrics set to a grand and danceable 80s pop arrangement. Bree celebrates new romantic encounters with fun orchestral pop songs full of double entendres ('Heavenly Visions', 'Kiss My Lips' feat Princess Chelsea, '69' feat Crystal Choi) and his talent for writing for the female lead vocal has not been so obviously on display since his work with The Brunettes, also evident on 'Meadows in Bloom', a tragic Shangri-La's inspired narrative about the pitfalls of sleeping with the drummer, in which Britta Phillips (Luna) takes lead vocal duties.

When a synth master like Steve Moore joins forces with the legendary KPM, magic must materialise. And so it does with Analog Sensitivity: cinematic, enigmatic synthscapes to both haunt and heal.

New York-based multi-instrumentalist/producer/film composer Steve Moore is probably best known for his synthesizer and bass guitar work as Zombi, together with Anthony Paterra. But he is also part of Miracle and Titan as well as being a prolific solo artist releasing music as Gianni Rossi, Lovelock and under his own name. Steve’s music has found a home across labels like Future Times, Mexican Summer, LIES, Static Caravan, Relapse, Kompakt, Spectrum Spools, Death Waltz and Ghost Box, and much of his recent work has been scoring films like The Guest and Cub. Prolific indeed.

The story of Analog Sensitivity starts with those soundtracks, or more specifically the time in between them. Rather than being commissioned by KPM, this LP comes from music Steve was recording sporadically and tinkering with for over three years during the downtime between his film projects. There were no ideas about what it was nor a plan for how it would be released, or even if it was going to be released at all.

However, after Jon Tye invited him to play on the Ocean Moon project for KPM Steve realised that the hallowed library label might be the perfect home for what he had been working on. The people at KPM agreed. Finishing production in late 2019 in Albany, NY, he came up with the track sequencing and suddenly, he had an album: Analog Sensitivity.

The LP opens with the dystopian electronic minimalism of “Eldborg”, its dark synth bass unfolding to ominous synth pads, shadowy sustains and glistening arpeggios. “At The Edge Of Perception” brings an unsettling retro-future of edgy analogue leads and desolate FX. The sound of a robotic core tears through the sparse textures of the enigmatic “Rose Of Charon”. A chilling breeze blows through a persistent, hypnotic synth sequence on “Time Freeze”. Title track “Analog Sensitivity” is a sparkling transcendental synthscape of melody, drones and celestial synth. The brooding “Behind The Waterfall” winds down the first side, building subtle strings and a desolate sound beneath its haunting organ.

“Mirror Mountain” ushers in side two, its woozy bass and arpeggio unfolding to envelop the muffled, muted echos of its organic leads. "Syzygy" emerges you in bubbling sequences, airiness and ambient electric guitar tones. It’s followed by the cinematic minimalism of “Pentagram Of Venus” and its trickling FX. The wind swirls through the otherworldly “Of Dust Thou Art” kicking up clouds of unsettling, plodding synth sequences leading to the uneasy atmosphere of “Message From The Beast” which builds to the echo of the last refrain of some choral incantation. Closing track “Urge Surfing” is as cool a climax as you’d hope from something so brilliantly titled, riding along hushed waves of brooding electronics.

With the clue right there in the title, Analog Sensitivity is built up from the quieter aspects of the sound Steve has been exploring and evolving for over 20 years. It’s a layering of ambivalently dense and airy, muffled and echoing sounds from his collection of synthesizers and other electronic music hardware. And whilst some of Steve’s other work uses this vintage equipment to conjure the past, that wasn’t his intention here. Steve explains “I wanted Analog Sensitivity to feel atemporal, as though it could have been released any time over the past 30 or 40 years. While not specifically in the spirit of any particular album, I’m really into old KPM artists like Alan Hawkshaw and Brian Bennett”.

Vinyl Only

Hanagasumi - hazy curtain of flowers, cherry blossoms appearing from afar like a white mist - this phenomenon can be seen during the sakura blossom in Japan.

Introducing the second Hanagasumi release from Shine Grooves. This time the release has a slightly different sound character. The first side is minimalist and abstract rhythms filled with twisty synth sequences, seasoned with house sauce and stringy keyboards.

The second side has an ambient mood. The first 2 tracks contain soft synth parts and melodies, which are supported by broken rhythms and magical percussion. The final track in the release is reminiscent of the minimal and glitch house of the early 2000s, which will allow you to immerse yourself in an atmosphere of serenity.

On his new EP ‘Music from Organ’, producer and live musician Giulio Aldinucci offers up four tracks of layered and meticulously-crafted ambience.

In his own words: “The EP explores the interaction between the pipe organ and the sound environment, in terms of architectural space and soundscape. Every single sound of this work is created from pipe organ recordings using different techniques related to sound reflection, from granular processing to filters that “carve” the sound emulating the phonemes articulation inside the human vocal tract.”

Farron joins the EP bringing a dreamy remix. Unlike Giulio’s approach, Farron portrays a left-field dance-floor feel throughout the track with beautiful ambient pads, pulsating along a warm electronic space journey.

Katy Kirby is a Texas-based songwriter and indie rock practitioner with an affinity for unspoken rules, misunderstanding and boredom. She was born, raised and homeschooled by two ex-cheerleaders in small-town Texas and started singing in church, amidst the pasteurised-pop choruses of evangelical worship. Like many bible belt late-millennials, Katy grew up on a strict diet of this dependably uncool genre and accordingly, Cool Dry Place finds her dismantling it. "I can hear myself fighting that deeply internalized impulse to make things that are super pleasant or approachable," she says. Though Katy hasn't fully overcome the itch to please, it's to a listener's benefit. Instead of eradicating the pop sensibilities of her past, she warps them, lacing sugary hooks with sneaky rage, twisting affectionate tones into matter-of-fact reproach, and planting seemingly serene melodies with sonic jabs. The fun is in the clash. The nine tracks that make up Cool Dry Place are miscellaneous in subject (motherhood, late capitalism, disintegrating relationships) but unified by the angle from which they're told: from a person re-learning to process life with intense attention. Each song is a catalogue of fragments, the number of segments in an orange or the cut of an obsessively-worn shirt, distilled into meditations on the bizarre and microscopic exchanges that make up modern life - a relationship splintering, an uncomfortable pause, an understanding finally found. These emotional dioramas are moderated by the angular storytelling that unites Gillian Welch and Phoebe Bridgers, a favour for the conventions of short fiction over confession.

Katy Kirby is a Texas-based songwriter and indie rock practitioner with an affinity for unspoken rules, misunderstanding and boredom. She was born, raised and homeschooled by two ex-cheerleaders in small-town Texas and started singing in church, amidst the pasteurised-pop choruses of evangelical worship. Like many bible belt late-millennials, Katy grew up on a strict diet of this dependably uncool genre and accordingly, Cool Dry Place finds her dismantling it. "I can hear myself fighting that deeply internalized impulse to make things that are super pleasant or approachable," she says. Though Katy hasn't fully overcome the itch to please, it's to a listener's benefit. Instead of eradicating the pop sensibilities of her past, she warps them, lacing sugary hooks with sneaky rage, twisting affectionate tones into matter-of-fact reproach, and planting seemingly serene melodies with sonic jabs. The fun is in the clash. The nine tracks that make up Cool Dry Place are miscellaneous in subject (motherhood, late capitalism, disintegrating relationships) but unified by the angle from which they're told: from a person re-learning to process life with intense attention. Each song is a catalogue of fragments, the number of segments in an orange or the cut of an obsessively-worn shirt, distilled into meditations on the bizarre and microscopic exchanges that make up modern life - a relationship splintering, an uncomfortable pause, an understanding finally found. These emotional dioramas are moderated by the angular storytelling that unites Gillian Welch and Phoebe Bridgers, a favour for the conventions of short fiction over confession.

Katy Kirby is a Texas-based songwriter and indie rock practitioner with an affinity for unspoken rules, misunderstanding and boredom. She was born, raised and homeschooled by two ex-cheerleaders in small-town Texas and started singing in church, amidst the pasteurised-pop choruses of evangelical worship. Like many bible belt late-millennials, Katy grew up on a strict diet of this dependably uncool genre and accordingly, Cool Dry Place finds her dismantling it. "I can hear myself fighting that deeply internalized impulse to make things that are super pleasant or approachable," she says. Though Katy hasn't fully overcome the itch to please, it's to a listener's benefit. Instead of eradicating the pop sensibilities of her past, she warps them, lacing sugary hooks with sneaky rage, twisting affectionate tones into matter-of-fact reproach, and planting seemingly serene melodies with sonic jabs. The fun is in the clash. The nine tracks that make up Cool Dry Place are miscellaneous in subject (motherhood, late capitalism, disintegrating relationships) but unified by the angle from which they're told: from a person re-learning to process life with intense attention. Each song is a catalogue of fragments, the number of segments in an orange or the cut of an obsessively-worn shirt, distilled into meditations on the bizarre and microscopic exchanges that make up modern life - a relationship splintering, an uncomfortable pause, an understanding finally found. These emotional dioramas are moderated by the angular storytelling that unites Gillian Welch and Phoebe Bridgers, a favour for the conventions of short fiction over confession.

The wait is ¦nally over. IBI001 was born. T_NO, the artist,
makes his debut with this disc. You can expect four solid
tracks between house, techno and electro. There is also a
very club-friendly DJ Balduin remix to be heard on the record.
Lean back, relax and prick up your ears. That's just the
beginning!

‘Push’ is Maral’s debut full-length album due on Leaving Records. The album’s sonic palette includes a collage of Iranian classical and folk
samples and explores the genres of experimental electronic production, touching upon noise, punk / post-punk and dub.

Maral is an active and acclaimed musician in the electronic underground. Her debut mixtape was widely praised and she has contributed to several compilations and Richard Russell’s Crass remix project.

‘Push’ features dub legend Lee “Scratch” Perry and Penny Rimbaud of Crass.

‘Push’ is a confident step forward from Maral’s club and mixtape work into a powerful collection of original songs. The album bursts with an urgent psychedelic energy but its songs also grapple with a sombre undercurrent.

Maral says her album is intended to reflect tense US-Iranian relations: “The history of Iranian music has a lot of melancholy in it. So much of Iranian history is sad. Since ancient times, Iranians were always fighting off invasions.”

Tape / Cassette

"Like water drops, gently hovering, slowly bursting one by one, reassembling themselves simultaneously." An imagery that shaped this shining debut album "klondike" by hanisii - a mysteriously operating artist who has been flying under the radar for half a decade now yet scattering some highly unique re-interpretations via Soundcloud.

After a no-contact-no-contract-deal with Rico Puestel about remixing and editing his music back in 2016 and 2017 (working out both stunningly and skillfully), it took three years until this album at hand emerged out of the blue. Adapted to the circumstances, Rico Puestel constructed a way of presenting this specialty item appropriately on his large-scale project "Time In The Special Practice Of Relativity": A "slight bit" beyond the usual, showcasing the entire album on a limited cassette tape together with an exclusive SD card, carrying its digital audio version + bonus material.

As one might cynically state that God created music, the devil the ones writing about it, it feels right to keep it short and simple about the album itself here: Setting the scene itself with an intro and outro of genuine beauty (letting even an old broadcasting signal sound like those multifarious water drops of elegancy), everything in between profoundly passes through the depths of electronic onomatopoeia in nine diverse yet coherent and organic shapes, melting the groovy energy of House music with a pervasive serenity and clearness of Techno aesthetics.

While "klondike" allows itself to only raise the singular claim of wanting to get listened to, the scent of a future classic might be floating around the ether...