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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.

Legendary postmodern, post punk, post human, past caring collective Mekons return with a brand-new album for 2025. Their first release on Fire Records, ‘Horror’ a collection of songs written in late 2022 but providing a horribly prescient reflection of the world in its current miasma and how we got here. ‘Horror’ looks at history and the legacies of British imperialism with mashed up lyrics set against a typically eclectic sound that amalgamates everything from dub, country, noise, rock & roll, electronica, punk, music hall, polka and you can even take your partner for a nice waltz on ‘Sad And Sad And Sad’. The roots of their global sound reflect their nomadic journey through time and space from Leeds to California in the West and Siberia in the East and is woven into the fabric and intricacies of their song creation… Sounding like The Chills and R.E.M circa the I.R.S Records years, ‘Mudcrawlers’ sees just about the whole band joining Jon Langford on vocals speaking of Irish famine and refugees journeying to Wales. ‘War Economy’ shivers in the cold of such Boroughs spiked one-liners: “Clinical coercion will not achieve dominance!” Sounding like its straight off a Jenny Holzer neon sign (she of Abuse Of Power Comes As No Surprise), it’s held together by a disgruntled swaggering riff that underpins an explosion of disquiet. Meanwhile, Rico takes the lead on the maliciously luscious ‘Fallen Leaves’ an appalled and appalling Hammer Horror take on climate breakdown reminiscent of Rolling Thunder Dylan, that recalls The Pogues at their most introspective, its Celtic twilightism augmented by Susie Honeyman’s keening violin as the dying sun sinks down and the river Styx flows on in the pitch black night. Almost 50 years in the making, these Mekons continue to astound, their sound, sentiment and method of delivery blended to perfection by bass player and studio wizard, Dave Trumfio. The Mekons are Jon Langford, Sally Timms, Tom Greenhalgh, Dave Trumfio, Susie Honeyman, Rico Bell, Steve Goulding, and Lu Edmonds. "Effortlessly eloquent post-punks" Pitchfork // “The Mekons are still vital” Rolling Stone // “The most revolutionary group in the history of rock ‘n’ roll,” Lester Bangs // UK Tour 8-15 May 2025 (including London, Manchester, Glasgow, and more).

purple vinyl (FAME516LP) is for Indie stores only. Brand new album from Philadelphia's much loved neo-space rock stoner drone outfit. A euphoric transcendental journey to a mountain top nirvana, a psychedelic tapestry that slowly unwinds as they travel onwards into the inner mind. A 40-minute opus delivered from a hail of reverb soulfully caressed by a ceremonial flute, that makes way for a shroud of eld'-era Neil Young fog. Bardo Pond is your rather ruffled tour guide to this far off place, this distant sense of wonderment at the crossroads with bewilderment. "One of underground rock's most extraordinary enigmas" The Quietus

Flutter Ridder is the duo of Norwegian multidisciplinary artists Espen Friberg and Jenny Berger Myhre, both of whom play important roles in Oslo’s contemporary art and music underground. The pair first collaborated during the production of Friberg’s debut solo record, “Sun Soon” (Hubro, 2022), quickly recognizing in one another a creative kinship rooted in a playful, intentionally naive approach towards making art. In November of 2023, the pair decamped to the coastal town of Hvisten in southeastern Norway to record what would become this debut, self-titled album in an ancient wooden church. Drawing from a palette of Friberg’s idiosyncratic Serge modular system and the church’s resident pipe organ and intoxicating acoustic reverb, they began recording and sculpting music informed by the notion that air and electricity share a common flow, a continuous current that can be directed through valves and potentiometers. The pair came to think of the Serge and pipe organ as sibling instruments, the former yielding characteristically unpredictable and complex timbres that complement the wooly, reedy drones and strange, microtonal overtones of the latter. At once sublime, liturgical, and whimsical, Flutter Ridder offers its listener a series of moving, cinematic natural landscapes, affirming the sensibilities of its makers and the indelible influence of the environment in which it was produced.

Bon Iver's debut full-length For Emma, Forever Ago has been making major waves in critics circles based on the strength of an early artist-pressed advance cd and a couple awe-inspiring sets at CMJ in October 2007. The New York Times called it "irresistible" and Pitchfork stamped its early review of the album with a Recommended tag. For those of you hiding away in a cabin of your own, it's time that you hear the story, and more importantly, the music. Bon Iver (pronounced: bohn eevair; French for "good winter" and spelled wrong on purpose) is a greeting, a celebration and a sentiment. It is a new statement of an artist moving on and establishing the groundwork for a lasting career. For Emma, Forever Ago is the debut of this lineage of songs. As a whole, the record is entirely cohesive throughout and remains centered around a particular aesthetic, prompted by the time and place for which it was recorded. Justin Vernon, the primary force behind Bon Iver, seems to have tested his boundaries to the maximum, and in doing so has managed to break free from any pre-cursing or finished forms. It wasn't planned. The goal was to hibernate. Vernon moved to a remote cabin in the woods of Northwestern Wisconsin at the onset of winter. He lived there alone for three months, filling his days with wood splitting and other chores around the land. This solitary time slowly began feeding a bold, uninhibited new musical focus. The days slowly evolved into nights filled with twelve-hour recording blocks, breaking only for trips on the tractor into the pines to saw and haul firewood, or for frozen sunrises high up a deer stand. All of his personal trouble, lack of perspective, heartache, longing, love, loss and guilt that had been stock piled over the course of the past six years, was suddenly purged into the form of song.

Japanese artists Yumiko Morioka and Takashi Kokubo unite for Gaiaphilia, a journey through ambient soundscapes that seamlessly blends Morioka’s graceful piano compositions with Kokubo’s immersive field recordings and atmospheric synthesisers.

This collaboration brings together two of Japan’s most influential pioneers in ambient and new age music, each with decades of groundbreaking work. Morioka, celebrated for her 1987 album Resonance—reissued to critical acclaim by Métron Records—infuses her introspective playing with Kokubo’s vivid environmental textures, creating a dialogue between nature and melody.

After releasing Resonance, Morioka stepped away from music, moving to America to raise her family. For years, her work was quietly cherished by fans, only gaining wider recognition with its reissue in 2020. A devastating wildfire destroyed her California home seven years ago, prompting her return to Tokyo where she became a chocolatier before rediscovering her passion for the piano in recent years, playing live shows and making new recordings.

Takashi Kokubo’s legendary discography spans over 30 years, and has found wider acclaim in recent years via YouTube algorithms and bootleg uploads, wracking up tens of millions of plays. Yet he is probably best known for his sound design work, specifically the Japanese earthquake alert sound as well as credit card payment jingles - his creations are pervasive in Japanese society.

“From our love and concern for our planet, we both offer a unique sensibility and spirit of inquiry which we express through our music.”

Rooted in shared philosophical interests, Gaiaphilia reflects a profound reverence for nature’s resilience and harmony. Themes of Gaia, Mother Earth’s renewal, and the interconnectedness of life are central, with inspirations drawn from cosmology, sacred geometry, and Japan’s mystical Katakamuna tradition. The album invites listeners into a meditative space where sound mirrors the delicate balance of the natural world.

A master of sound design, Kokubo enhances this vision with his distinctive field recordings, captured using a self-made binaural microphone shaped like a crash test dummy’s head. From the jungles of Borneo to the gentle rhythm of ocean waves, Kokubo’s globe-spanning recordings transform into immersive soundscapes that perfectly complement Morioka’s introspective piano compositions.

“The title, Gaiaphilia, is a newly created word to encompass our love and respect for nature and life, this feeling is the theme we hoped to express.”

Released on Métron Records on 12/03/25 and with artwork from Ventral Is Golden, Gaiaphilia marks a remarkable new chapter for Morioka and Kokubo. Recorded at Kokubo’s log house studio named Studio Ion in Yamanashi, their collaboration offers listeners a deeply emotional and transcendent experience, rooted in the timeless beauty of Japan’s natural landscapes.

After a 30-year interstellar silence, the enigmatic producer Alien Signal—pioneering alias of Italian electronic composer Alex Silvi—reemerges with Whispers from Distant Suns, a transcendent odyssey that bridges retro-futurism and modern electronica. Hailed as a magnum opus, this album transcends genre boundaries, captivating ambient purists, downtempo aficionados, and even experimental listeners with its hypnotic fusion of analog warmth and digital precision.

Cosmic Tapestry of Sound
Drawing comparisons to Vangelis’ Antarctica and Alpha—but reimagined through a 21stcentury lens—Whispers from Distant Suns marries nostalgic synth textures with cuttingedge production. Silvi’s mastery of melody shines through in tracks like “Stardust
Memories” and “Fragile Eden” where shimmering arpeggios and celestial pads drift over robotic, glitch-infused drum patterns and sparse, meditative percussion. The result is a paradox: a retro-futuristic soundscape that feels simultaneously ancient and alien, familiar yet unexplored.

Listener Testimonials
Fans and critics have flooded forums with praise:

“An auditory revelation! It’s like Vangelis met Jon Hopkins in a nebula—vintage soul with a futuristic heartbeat.”
“The textures are gorgeously cinematic. Closing your eyes, you’re adrift in a Tarkovsky film scored for the Andromeda galaxy.”

The Vinyl Experience
Pressed on heavyweight vinyl, the album’s physical release amplifies its immersive qualities. The gatefold sleeve, adorned with surrealist astrophotography and metallic
foiling, mirrors the music’s cosmic ethos. Side A leans into Balearic serenity, with sundappled grooves and aquatic synth ripples, while Side B delves into darker, more
experimental terrain—think Aphex Twin’s Selected Ambient Works colliding with the organic rhythms of Jon Hopkins.

Maturity in Motion
This album is a testament to Silvi’s evolution. Tracks like “Seeds Of Light” and “Message from Andromeda Galaxy” showcase his refined ear for dynamics, balancing silence and sound with surgical precision. Vintage drum machines spar with glitches, while field recordings of crashing waves and interstellar static blur the line between Earth and cosmos. The closing track, “The Star Charts We Shared” crescendos into a 6-minute ambient requiem, leaving listeners suspended in a state of weightless awe.

Final Transmission
Whispers from Distant Suns is more than an album—it’s a transcendent odyssey. Spanning time, space, and the artist’s own creative evolution, this immersive work invites listeners to lose themselves in its ebb and flow. Designed for moments both intimate and expansive, its balearic-tinged atmospheres resonate equally through dawnlit Mediterranean terraces or the solitary glow of headphones in darkness. These are compositions that pulse, morph, and haunt the air long after the final note fades. A living soundscape meant to accompany life’s quiet revelations and clandestine joys—a soundtrack to your most personal moments, crafted as what the artist calls ‘private dance music.’

Tailored for the Discerning Listener
Whispers from Distant Suns is designed with the true connoisseur in mind. This album is a must-have for:

Vinyl Collectors & Audiophiles: Those who value the warmth and tactile experience of heavyweight, limited edition pressings
Electronic Ambient and Downtempo Fans: Listeners who appreciate immersive soundscapes that merge retro analog charm with modern digital innovation.
Retro-Futurism Enthusiasts: Fans of pioneering artists like Vangelis, Boards of Canada, and early Warp Records who seek music that bridges nostalgic synth textures with futuristic experimentation.
Experimental Music Explorers: Individuals drawn to sonic narratives that invite deep, contemplative listening—perfect for both introspective moments and immersive listening sessions.
This release is not just an album; it’s a curated experience for those who desire music as a multidimensional art form, merging the vintage allure of analog sound with a contemporary, cosmic vision.

For fans of: Vangelis, Biosphere, Jon Hopkins, early Warp Records.

Bells Are Ringing is the debut EP by Melbourne Funk 10 piece outfit Mondo Freaks, released following on from the single of the same name and a thrilling Dub Version by Harvey Sutherland.

Mondo Freaks formed originally as a concept band, equipped with an ever-evolving setlist of late '70s and early '80s Funk classics, their journey has seen them invited to be the backing band for the Australian tours of such luminaries as Leroy Burgess (the producer and artist behind Boogie and Disco favourites Black Ivory, Logg, Aleem, Inner Life, and Universal Robot Band) and the iconic Evelyn "Champagne" King. Having performed at the iconic local Meredith Music, Golden Plains and Panama festivals and at numerous residencies Mondo Freaks have carved their mark, returning now to ring in a new era of groove-soaked original music.

The band revolves around the rhythm section of in demand session bassist Luke Hodgson and drummer Graeme Pogson (GL, The Bamboos). Gathering some of the finest musicians from Melbourne's legendary Soul scene, they're accompanied by five incredible vocalists including Jade McRae, Susie Goble, Francisco Tavares, Aaron Mendoza and Jason Heerah.

New tracks on the EP include "Find A Way", which hits straight away with a percussion and synth hook, blending Jade McCrae's vocal delivery with an uplifting message about finding hope in trying times.

Also included is the Harvey Sutherland Vocal Mix of "Bells Are Ringing", which keeps much of the spaced out Larry Levan, Shep Pettibone re-edit approach that was on his much lauded Dub Version.

It's easy to see why his remix skills have been in demand and utilised by Disclosure, Khruangbin, BadBadNotGood, Tycho, Boston Bun, Lucius, Jungle Giants, Genesis Owusu and Franc Moody. On his own releases Sutherland has collaborated with the likes of DāM FunK and Nubya Garcia.Tightening its hold on the dancefloor, the beefed-up rhythm section rolls deep into the nocturnal hours, as mesmerising reverb loops elevate the track skywards.

Luke and Graeme got to know Harvey Sutherland when they played together backing Leroy Burgesson his Australian tour in 2018. After that Luke and Graeme played in Harvey's live band across the world and then contributed his 'BOY' album. "We were thrilled when he turned in his Dub of "Bells"", Luke said. "A kind of 'what would Shep Pettibone or Larry Levan do?' moment. It's like being transported to Compass Point Studios in '81!"

Mondo Freaks make Funk inspired by late '70s / early '80s era as it gently moved beyond Disco. That era has continued to inspire many artists, but what sets Mondo Freaks apart is their live instrumentation plus a focus on vocals and great songwriting, creating something beyond simply instrumental grooves.In the studio and in their full live lineup Mondo Freaks are a formidable ensemble who take their sound beyond mere homage, without a hint of irony or any knowing winks. Mondo Freaks simply breathe life into a timeless sound and make it feel more relevant than ever.

Madronas’ debut LP Erogenous Biome is an amorphous, murky, cathartic offering. A duet of modular synthesizer and winds that’s equal parts doom and ecstasy, it’s the sound of a majestic butterfly emerging from it’s slimy chrysalis just in time to catch the sun setting on the end of days, a bewitching, heavy ceremony, a power-wash of both mind and spirit.

Tracked in one continuous take at Brooklyn’s Heavy Meadow studio, individual tracks were gleaned from the purge and eschew predictable structures, making for a dense, fluid suite of improvisation, like dancing smoke ribbons in the dark. The duo's chosen sound sources are seemingly opposite - Ry Fyan’s modular’s coming from electronic oscillators, Isaiah Barr’s saxophone and various flutes originating with the breath - but the visceral, imprecise, alive quality to the sound of both lends the record a thrilling combination of rapturous harmony and gritty, intense friction.

Opening the session in ritualistic, foreboding fashion, Voluntary lurches to life with rattles and wandering, bassy arpeggios before a suona’s cry signals the seance has officially begun. Ostraca Loam spits explosive modular rhythms and eerie shrieks for the flute to float above, while Detritus Harp smudges mechanical whirring, pensive horn and wind chimes for an untethered drift. Petrified Microdot swells with menacing sci-fi sequences and breathtaking sax runs until they both run out of breath, and Negative Lingam starts out in a panic of breathy riffing before exhaling into one of the most sublime passages on the record. Rhythmic pounding and undulating flutes punctuate Lenticular Shroud, before The Preparation Of The Novel sets the winds aside for a synthesized dual fit for electric dreams. The title track dominates the B-side, it's shimmering levity slowly unfurling to reveal itself as a kind of post-apocalyptic devotional music, deep space drifting grounded by earthly flutes, and Vale Of Cashmere offers an ascetic, contemplative closure, sparse flute and chiming rhythms organic or electronic - by this time it’s hard to know, it doesn’t matter either way.

Erogenous Biome is a world of it’s own, and one Impatience is honored to offer a window into.

RIYL - Senyawa, witchcraft, Colin Stetson , Civilistjavel, Mars (the planet), Finis Africae, raga, Stephen O’Malley, modular synthesizer, Anthony Braxton, Shabaka.

Madronas is Ry Fyan and Isaiah Barr. Fyan is a painter and tattoo artist, this is his first release. Barr is a prolific instigator of the downtown New York scene, producing and playing saxophone in jazz circles with his group Onyx Collective, as a player and/or producer on records by Nick Hakim, David Byrne and Wiki, performing live with William Parker and as part of his projects Universal Space Jam and Cafe Dewanee.

Erogenous Biome was recorded and mastered by Griffin Jennings at Heavy Meadow, Brooklyn.

Vinyl was cut by Beau Thomas at Ten Eight Seven Mastering, Berlin.

Artwork is by Ry Fyan, typography and layout by Nicolas Turek.

Anoesis is the duo of Doc Bozique and Oxidation and this is their third release on Cosmic Soup. It is one that has been long anticipated by fans of their well designed breakbeat sounds and their first since 1995 when they dropped Blood & Sweat on D*Fusion. As such there is a hint of 90s post rave magic to the 11 cuts here, all with cosmic intent and deep grooves. They are tunes that have you lost in a reverie on the heart of the dance floor but with your gaze turned skyward. Essential stuff.

Soul music has always been in Paul Weller’s blood from early Jam covers of Martha & the Vandellas 1963 classic ‘Heatwave’. Along with other forms of music, soul found its way into Paul’s record collection, nourishing his ears and informing his own songwriting

We don’t need to recap a questing musical career from the Jam to the Style Council and then blossoming into one of the most productive and revered careers of any UK solo artist. Paul has written anthems, standards and a songbook that have always developed from his own feelings.

Whilst Paul has talked about his love of soul music he has, before now, simply been too busy to sit down and curate a collection of his favourite tracks and get it into the record racks.

Ace Records are honoured and delighted to finally release that Paul Weller curated collection which he has aptly titled, “That Sweet Sweet Music”.

This 2-LP set and CD open the curtains on 26 tracks that are some of Paul’s favourite soul records most of which nestle on vinyl in his own collection. He can still recall paying £70 for his copy of Jon Lucien’s 1971 ‘Search For The Inner Self’ 7” at a record shop in Leicester in the 90s. Some of these tracks are soul classics like James Carr’s 1966 ‘Pouring Water On A Drowning Man’ and Brother to Brother’s brilliant take on Gil Scott Heron and Brian Jackson’s ‘In The Bottle’ from 1974. Others are deliciously obscure wonderous gems like the A-side of Blackrock’s sole 1971 single ‘Blackrock “Yeah, Yeah”’, ‘Life Walked Out’ from the same year by the Mist or Syl Johnson’s ‘Black Balloons’ taken from his 1970 album “Is It Because I’m Black?”.

There are plenty of big vocal hitters such as Darrell Banks, Spinners, Joe Simon, O.C. Smith, the Dells and Betty Davis. Whilst the core is vocal soul the music does branch out with Paul selecting a wicked instrumental from the flipside of the Isley Brothers’ ‘Twist & Shout’ from 1962 and the funky jazz of the Headhunters ‘God Made Me Funky’, the A-side of their first 1975 seven-inch.

DUBWAX presents Stelios Vassiloudid - Blaack Sesame.
Superb 4 dub influenced club tracks, not to be missed!
Higly recommeded!

If every significant artist has an underrated gem in its catalog, then Mirage is that album for Fleetwood Mac. An obvious return to relative simplicity after the dramatic tension of Rumours and experimental ambitions of Tusk, the 1982 album finds the band re-grouping after a brief hiatus and again climbing to the top of the charts. Extremely well-crafted, well-produced, and well-performed, the double-platinum effort distills the group’s hallmark strengths into a filler-free set that never runs short of addictive pop hooks or daft accents.

Sourced from the original analog master tapes, pressed at Fidelity Record Pressing in California, and housed in a Stoughton jacket, Mobile Fidelity’s numbered-edition 180g 45RPM 2LP set presents Mirage in reference sound for the first time. The efforts co-producers/engineers Ken Caillat and Richard Dashut went to capture the splintered albeit formidable band can be heard with stunning accuracy, range, depth, and detail.

Though Rumours understandably gets a permanent spot in the audiophile hall of fame, the smooth, clear, and dynamic sonics on Mirage confirm that the record that stood as Fleetwood Mac’s last effort for five years deserves a place in the same vaunted arena. The presence and imaging of Mick Fleetwood’s percussion alone on this reissue might have you wondering how this slice of soft-rock bliss has gone under-noticed for decades. Other prized aural aspects — separation, definition, impact, tonal balance — are also here in spades.

Like much surrounding Fleetwood Mac in the 1980s, arriving at Mirage was not easy. Caillat searched for studios located outside of Los Angeles on a mission to change up the vibe of the band’s prior recording sessions. Everyone settled on Le Chateau in France, where relations between some members remained icy — and cooperation with the producers strained. Battles with exhaustion, bitterness, and addiction further informed the proceedings at the 18th century complex in the French countryside, where even communal meals were allegedly eaten in silence.

Inevitably, the feelings that co-producer Lindsey Buckingham, Stevie Nicks, Christine McVie, and company harbored — as well as the situations in which they found themselves — drifted into the songwriting. In its rapid ascent to rock-star royalty status, Fleetwood Mac drifted apart, embarked on solo pursuits, and found it was lonely at the top. Emptiness, the illusion of dreams, the longing for love, the want to escape to bygone times of innocence and happiness: Such themes inform a majority of the narratives. Even if the lyrics regularly take a back seat to easygoing arrangements that allow Mirage to come on like a refreshing breeze on a sunny summer afternoon.

Home to three Top 25 singles in the U.S. and having occupied the pole position of the Top 200 album charts for five weeks, Mirage rightfully resonated with the mainstream and attracted listeners on both sides of the pond. And how, via a smart blend of sugary melodies, warm harmonies, interlaced notes, nimble rhythms, taut structures, and passionate vocals. Not to mention the presence of what arguably remains Nicks’ signature song, the biographical “Gypsy,” a meditation on the loss of her close friend Robin Anderson that teems with majesty, mystery, and mysticism — and which gets an assist from Buckingham’s shaded tack piano and richly strummed guitar chords.

Its ranking as an all-time classic aside, that No. 12 hit has plenty of company when it comes to brilliant pop turns on Mirage. On the subject of Nicks, the raspy singer gets a little bit country on “That’s Alright.” Its clip-clopping pace and two-stepping progression complement subtle vocal swells that emerge during the final verse of a tune that is ostensibly about leaving but still conveys forgiveness and grace. And what would a Fleetwood Mac record be without Nicks drawing on the tools of the supernatural — cards, dreams, wolves, and the like — on the twirling “Straight Back.”

Despite the potency of Nicks’ primary contributions, Mirage seemingly unfolds as a tight competition between Buckingham and McVie — and one that ultimately ends in a draw. Buckingham’s salvos include the contagious “Can’t Go Back,” a yearning to time-travel back to the past that’s complete with hall-of-mirrors backing vocals; “Oh Diane,” out-of- left-field ear candy sweetened with hiccupped vocals and salt-and-pepper-shaken grooves; the chiming “Eyes of the World”; and “Empire State,” a delightfully fluttering track whose high-range vocals, lap harp notes, and ringing xylophones hint at the galaxies of sound that would erupt on Tango in the Night.

Then there’s McVie. As elegant, understated, and coolheaded as she’s ever been on record, she pours her heart out on cuts that revolve around her inevitable split with Beach Boy Dennis Wilson. In the process, she punctuates Mirage with a characteristic not always associated with catchy pop music: emotional weight, and the sense of dreaded acceptance in the face of dreams deferred.

“I wish you were here/Holding me tight,” McVie sings over a delicate melody on the album-closing piano ballad “Wish You Were Here.” Though they hoped otherwise, for the members Fleetwood Mac, distance and separation were always close at hand. Believing otherwise, inviting nostalgia, and pretending everything was fine only amounts to a mirage.

Released in early 1976, the title track of Bad Company's third album Run With The Pack is, what one critic described as, "a male-bonding type of song" that frontman Paul Rodgers was inspired to write about the group's non-stop touring adventures.

"Run With The Pack" is notable for its string arrangement, which Rodgers said he had in mind from the outset. "I wrote that song on the piano, and when I played it to the guys they fell right in. In my head, strings were always part of the song."

The album was recorded in France using the Rolling Stones Mobile Truck in September 1975 with engineer Ron Nevison, and mixed in Los Angeles by Eddie Kramer.

The Run With The Pack album reached No. 5 on the Billboard 200 and No. 4 on the U.K. chart. It was also Bad Company's third consecutive platinum-selling album.

Rolling Stone, in its review, calls Run With The Pack Bad Company's third and best album, reiterating the raw, rowdy style of their debut, Bad Company.

Cut at 45 RPM, pressed on 180-gram vinyl at Quality Record Pressings, and housed in a tip-on old style gatefold double pocket jacket by Stoughton Printing.

In the spring of 1983, members of Genesis reconvened at their studio, named The Farm in Chiddingfold, Surrey, to start work on a new studio album, their first since Abacab (1981). Genesis became their first album written, recorded, and mixed in its entirety at the studio room; previously they had to write in an adjoining space. Having the group work in their own space without the additional pressure of booking studio time and fees resulted in a more relaxed environment. They were joined by engineer Hugh Padgham, who had also worked on Abacab,

AllMusic writes: "Moments of Genesis are as spooky and arty as those on Abacab — in particular, there's the tortured howl of "Mama," uncannily reminiscent of Phil Collins' Face Value, and the two-part 'Second Home by the Sea' — but this eponymous 1983 album is indeed a rebirth, as so many self-titled albums delivered in the thick of a band's career often are. ... Anybody who paid attention to 'Misunderstanding' and 'No Reply at All' could tell that this was a good pop band, primarily thanks to the rapidly escalating confidence of Phil Collins, but Genesis illustrates just how good they could be, by balancing such sleek, pulsating pop tunes as 'That's All' with a newfound touch for aching ballads, as on 'Taking It All Too Hard.'" AllMusic reviewer Stephen Thomas Erlewine gives the album 4.5 Stars.

For fans who appreciate the evolution of the band's music over the years, owning this album is important as it represents a distinctive phase in their career.

This is the definitive deluxe 45 RPM 2LP Analogue Productions (Atlantic 75 Series) reissue of the classic Genesis. A classic for all true Genesis fans!

LIVE set in 2 parts (A side / B side)

Industrial and uncompromised experimental zone melting Speedcore to Ambizent Industrial Msuic.
Abstract... pushing the flashcore out of itslef !
A record bringing something unheard before !!

Superb printed sleeve, Green Vinyl.

Revolution Rock Deluxe vereint das bahnbrechende erste Album von Greenleaf mit ihrer lange vergriffenen Debüt-EP in einer einzigen atemberaubenden Neuauflage! Angeführt von Gitarrist Tommi Holappa von den europäischen Wüstenrock-Ikonen Dozer, begannen Greenleaf als informelles Kollektiv von Freunden, die Musik machten, inspiriert von ihrer gemeinsamen Liebe zum Riff-Rock der 70er Jahre. Nachdem sie sich 2013 in eine richtige Band verwandelt haben, stehen Greenleaf jetzt an der Spitze der globalen Heavy-Szene, nachdem sie ihr letztes Album The Head & The Habit 2024 veröffentlicht haben. Im fünfundzwanzigsten Jahr ihrer unglaublichen Karriere markieren sie diese beeindruckende Leistung mit einer speziellen Neuauflage ihrer frühesten Veröffentlichungen. Mit Jungs von Dozer, Lowrider, Demon Cleaner und anderen wurde Greenleafs erstes Album Revolution Rock 2001 in Eigenregie veröffentlicht und seit der ursprünglichen Auflage von 500 Exemplaren noch nie neu aufgelegt. Revolution Rock Deluxe vereint dieses bahnbrechende Album mit der lange vergriffenen Debüt-EP von Greenleaf aus dem Jahr 2000 in einer einzigen, atemberaubenden Ausgabe. Alle Songs wurden von Karl Daniel Lidén komplett neu gemastert und das ursprüngliche Artwork und Design von Lowriders Peder Bergstrand brillant aufgefrischt und aktualisiert.Feiern wir ein Vierteljahrhundert majestätischer Riffs mit Revolution Rock Deluxe und erleben Greenleafs Big Bang zum ersten Mal wieder! Präsentiert in einer luxuriösen, aufklappbaren 2LP-Edition auf limitiertem farbigen Vinyl oder als Einzel-CD im Digipack. Alle Songs wurden vollständig neu gemastert und die Verpackung und das Design aktualisiert und aufgefrischt. Eine der aktivsten und beliebtesten Bands der europäischen Stoner-/Desert-Rock-Szene

The Crystal Hum is the debut vinyl release by Taiwan-based artist Yuching Huang and her first release for Night School.
A beguiling dreamscape of crackles, spluttering, love-struck Casios presided over by the the spectral vocal and guitar work of Huang, Yuching sings love songs at the end of this world and the beginning of the next. Recorded during a hiatus from her group Aemong (a duo with artist Henrique Uba) in Berlin, these songs elevate Huang’s unique vocal style and grasp of atmospherics. The Crystal Hum deconstructs balladry, Garage, guitar music and reforms it into a
unified ghostly otherworld version of these languages.

The Crystal Hum thrums with buried desire, trails of nocturnal reverb seeping out of apartment windows, diaristic vocal performances and deeply emotive, evocative Western-style strings. Formulated by Yuching Huang after periods of frustration and experimentation, the album is an exercise in minimalism and paring back, with some tracks like JohnJohn featuring little else than an elastic bass, spring reverb trails, an interjecting vocal and swelling, dislocated synths. The effect is spellbinding, the soundtrack to getting lost in the labyrinthine, closed streets of Venice, Taipei, Hong Kong, or mirror versions of them in the imagination.

On opener Fly! Little Black Thing, a subterranean funk bassline roots Huang’s singing, a rudimentary, unreliable beat floundering in whimsy underneath. Demure, dream Dance music, Huang references classic lo fi experimenters Suicide and Arthur Russell as well as Night School label mates The Space Lady and Ela Orleans. In fact, after the release of Aemong’s third album Crimson, Huang credits the direction of The Crystal Hum to being enchanted by The Space Lady’s Greatest Hits,
the landmark lo-fi recording made by Susan Dietrich Schneider in 1990. The new, minimalist approach to her sound world reveals and shrouds in equal measure. On the heart-melter Love, a sultry mid-tempo Casio + bass backing drops into the ether with Huang’s vocal swimming in preternatural void before emerging anew, in awe at the world. Every chord change heralds new perspectives, every guitar flurry swells and drips emotion, nothing is wasted and space billows out from between the grooves.
Huang never reveals more than necessary, making this an in-between love album: the right amount of mystery and darkened mirror shines wanely on The Crystal Hum while remaining fragile and vulnerable in the sweet spots. Turning over in pillowing smoke and night in the dark corners, Huang sings in both Mandarin and English. The songs speak of earthly matters seemingly at the edge of dissipating into nothing. Distorted, beguiling Sambas warble like sweating dancehalls in an imagined Lynchian 60s, as on Thoughts. Closer You, An Illusion warps a classic 60s Girlgroup bassline beloved of the likes of Les Rallizes

Denudes into a slight ballad on the edge of the void, held back by the teary-eyed, wistful and enveloping vocal cooed by Huang. Each song feels like a love song dedicated to the bits between worlds, between beats, the negative space between people where desires, feelings and loss hangs in the air, resolute and unresolved.

Stone Foundation return with their 11th studio album. Collaborative as ever, the band's first LP in 3 years boats appearances from a diverse range of soul artists from Omar and Laville to J.P. Bimeni and regular collaborator Mick Talbot (The Style Council). Following a year celebrating their 25th anniversary as a band with a major compilation release alongside a summer touring with Grace Jones and Paul Weller, Stone Foundation's sights are now firmly fixed on the future. Join them as the sound of small town soul transforms itself once again.