Поиск:rip ‘n’ it

Formed in 2020 in Silkeborg, Denmark, NECKBREAKKER, consists of Christoffer Kofoed (Vocals), Sebastian Knoblauch (Bass), Anton ’Hajn’ Bregendorf (Drums), Joakim Kaspersen (Guitar) and Johan Lundvig (Guitar). Despite not having released a single song up until this point, NECKBREAKKER have found themselves at the forefront of the underground metal scene, thanks to their growing reputation of delivering blistering live shows. The young death metal band have already found themselves touring alongside the likes of Crypta, BAEST and Left To Die, as well as claiming slots on festivals such as Hellfest, Resurrection Fest, Bloodstock Open Air, Summer Breeze, Copenhell, Mystic Festival, Dynamo Metal Fest, Roskilde, Sweden Rock Festival, Tuska Festival and Inferno festival, as they rip and tear their way across the continent. Now, having caught the eye of metal titan Nuclear Blast Records, NECKBREAKKER are gearing up to release their hotly anticipated debut album, Within The Viscera, on December 6th. On the release of their debut album and their signing to Nuclear Blast Records, the band comments: “As we were creating Within The Viscera it is fair to say we felt a certain amount of pressure. A pressure to deliver an album that could live up to the hype this band has been building since we started playing shows, a pressure to not lessen the raw impact of the songs by finally putting them in a studio setting, and most importantly to make a debut album we could be proud of. We had the vision set, and we know we wanted to do it right. And we believe we have. Produced by Andreas Linnemann and mixed/mastered by Josh Middleton, Within The Viscera is our strongest material, and we hope the joy we had creating it shines through.

Pittsburgh’s feral punks Snarling Dogs return to bite the hand that feeds them with their debut self-titled LP Snarling Dogs.

This unhinged offering kicks out 11 revved-up, slobbering 77-esque punk tracks that will have wasted, spikey punks diving into the pit never to return. Songs like “Nothing Left” are charged and chock full of hits sounding like a demented mix of Raw Power era Stooges with the speed and aggression of The Damned or The Dead Boys. The record expands from there with songs like “Hour at a Time”- a locked in dirgy, psychedelic stroll through crime ridden city streets. From there songs like “Enemy” rip through the void with manic energy- fast, raw and visceral almost stepping into early hardcore territory.

While the record has these intense dynamic shifts, Snarling Dogs glue it all together with their cohesive live rock n roll energy.

Snarling Dogs is the perfect escape from the mundanity of life. Chug that 40 oz on your lunch break, smoke that entire pack of cigs, and take a piss on your boss’s car.

There are two dogs in you. Now it's time to set the Snarling Dog free.

Ben Lukas Boysen’s new album, Alta Ripa, signifies a seismic shift in his artistic journey. It revisits the foundational impulses of his youth, shaped amidst the serene beauty of rural Germany—a bucolic backdrop where his creative palette flourished. However, it was his move to Berlin in the early 2000s that electrified his sound, infusing it with the city’s pulsating energy and diverse cultural influences. Alta Ripa captures this transformative experience, blending the introspective melodies of his rural beginnings with the bold, experimental tones born from Berlin’s vibrant electronic music scene. This album is a testament to Boysen’s evolution, showcasing how geographical shifts can profoundly shape artistic expression.

Boysen’s fourth studio album under his own name, Alta Ripa is a nod to his beginnings as much as a hint to his future, and as a work, it’s almost contradictory in its boldness and humility. He invites the listener on a journey of self-discovery; both for himself and for them, describing the music as “something the 15-year-old in me would have liked to hear but only the grown-up version of myself can write.”

His last two albums involved working closely with other musicians, including cellist Anne Müller, flugelhorn player Steffen Zimmer, and drummer Achim Färber. However, inspired in part by a recent return to live performance, Alta Ripa sees Boysen circling back to his passion for pure computer music.

For Boysen, the return to his youthful musical language marks a major turning point in his career. It represents a departure from his roots in classical music – his mother was an opera singer and his father an actor with an appreciation for Wagner, Arvo Pärt, Keith Jarrett, and Stockhausen. Although these are still important influences, Alta Ripa encapsulates a new, exploratory interplay between Boysen’s careful craft and his ability to let go of some of the process.

The album’s title comes from the original Roman name of the town that Boysen grew up in, Altrip, where he lived until his early twenties. This formative period is central to the ideas behind this album, from Boysen’s parental ‘schooling’ in classical music through to his sonic journeys through drum and bass, Aphex Twin, and Autechre — all of which changed his idea of what music could be. The extreme energy of tracks like ‘Acperience 1’ by Hardfloor, ‘Tracks & Fragment’ by Cari Lekebusch, ‘Focus2 Implan’ by Jiri.Ceiver, and ‘Low On Ice’ by Alec Empire are also pivotal influences.

For Boysen, this time of his musical development also involved knocking down the pillars that he previously thought had carried his world. A key moment for Boysen was being given a precious (pre-internet) club cassette at school that featured artists like Source Direct, Photek and Goldie. Excited by this new discovery, he introduced his father to the song ‘Dred Bass’ by Dead Dred. After the song finished, Boysen Sr. turned off the tape and proclaimed it was “the end of all music”. This heated exchange sparked a new, and more mature dialogue between the two that involved them sharing and discussing music on a regular basis.

Boysen’s classical and jazz music upbringing might not be easily noticeable from the electronic palette that he uses. But it can be found in its bones; the structure of the tracks and their dynamic shifts. On Alta Ripa, he intentionally embraces a spirit of controlled chaos, churning out sonic ideas to see what sticks.

One of Brian Eno’s Oblique Strategy cards contains the phrase “gardening, not architecture”, and the trajectory of Boysen’s creative path reflects this metaphor. In much of his previous work he followed a sort of Brutalist architect’s approach; here, he was fully responsible for the tracks’ austere structures and planned them with deliberate care. But by sacrificing some of that control on Alta Ripa, he sets the right conditions for a dark and unpredictable, organic growth. It’s a push forward into a new world.

This one is highly recommended for fans of Khruangbin, Lord Echo, Leon Bridges or Fat Freddy's Drop.

Open is the sixth studio album from acclaimed composer, producer, filmmaker and multi-instrumentalist, Kutiman. It is an addictive & irresistible twelve-track trip taking in elements of classic soul, Middle Eastern psychedelia, Afrobeat, Thai funk, jazz fusion, cosmic library soundscapes and more.

The uptempo “Vanishing Point” opens proceedings, recalling both Abstract Orchestra’s 2017 Dilla tribute and the lounge OST/library music flips of Tosca and DJ Vadim fame.

My Everything introduces prominent guest & frequent Kutiman collaborator, Dekel, whose soul-pop vocals coupled with jangly acoustic guitar riffs tip to contemporary indie artists such as Michael Kiwanuka and SAULT. “A Day Off passes through” Anatolian psych and Khruangbin-esque Thai funk whilst the afrobeat/jazz fusion “Confetti” pays tribute to Kutiman’s other namesake, Fela Kuti.

Dekel rejoins for the beatdown, lilting dub-soul “Believe In You” with hints of Lord Echo and the sun-inflected New Zealand dub-soul sound. The Tuareg-leaning guitar lines on “Canoe” travel across the Saharan desert easterly towards Sudan and Ethiopia by the end, whilst meditative and Coltrane-adjacent album closer “Ripples” provides a final moment of reflection from a truly global excursion of soundscapes.

Coming off a successful transatlantic exchange, Brian Kage and his Michigander label keep the momentum, and the collaborative spirit, moving with an EP that hits closer to home. For any Detroit artist, working with Delano Smith would be on the bucket list, as one of the city's original, more influential DJs — before the D developed any of its "waves" — who would come into his own as a producer later to, once again, help mold the Techno City's sound. Make no mistakes about it, this tastemaker had a ripple effect back before techno even had a name, when it was just "progressive" music and mixing. The thing is, the feeling of admiration and respect here is mutual, from the moment Smith first stumbled across one of Kage's records and had to know who was making these sounds. This meeting of the minds happened organically and timely, with Keep 'em Movin’ as the result.

Opening the release is the title track, a driving number with pulsating synth tones and deep, call and response piano stabs. The ever so slightly pitched down vocals are modern and effortlessly cool, a style that resonates with today's dancefloors, but done tastefully, and with lyrical content that sets the record straight about what it really means to represent Detroit.

"D Spirit" takes an ancestral turn. This is spaced-out Detroit techno meets afro deep at its finest. Forward moving keys are bathed in deep, celestial pads as shuffling hats accented by light hand percussion beckon the body to move. Lively marimbas cut through the hypnotic undertones and awaken the senses with soulful appeal. A fluid bassline rumbles beneath while baroque pianos add tension and heighten the atmosphere.

The final track rounds the release out with an exclamation mark. For lovers of Delano Smith's infamous remix of "A

A hugely in demand repress (the original vinyl pressing on North Country changes hands for hundreds of pounds..) now released on Shack’s newly created own label Shack Songs.

The Shack story is one of music’s greatest legends. It incorporates hardship, bereavement and chaotic misadventure, but above all it tells the tale of beautiful music triumphing over trouble and tragedy.

‘Here’s Tom with The Weather’ boasts a majestic and fresh form. These are magical songs, psychedelic folk songs of the finest Head vintage. Sleepy-eyed, wistful and mystical, yet crafted with a cunning and acute dexterity beyond just about anybody you can think of.

The two profoundly Liverpudlian brothers Mick and John Head have made several brilliant albums together , but none as quickly as ‘Here’s Tom…’ which was completed in seven weeks at Brynderwen Studios in North Wales along with drummer Iain Templeton (RIP) , bassist Guy Rigby and producer Jay Reynolds in 2003.

In the 80’s , the two brothers from the notorious Kensington estate in north Liverpool were singer and guitarist with The Pale Fountains , an effervescent pop group which imploded under the weight of two albums in 1986. The Heads returned in ‘88 as Shack and a debut album Zilch. In 1991 , Shack made ‘Waterpistol’ , an inspirational guitar jewel that would have proved just as influential as any British album in that era had the studio not burned down, taking the master tapes with it. Four more years passed , but by the time it was finally released on Marina it had developed ‘lost classic’ status.

The Heads battled on. They toured as their hero Arthur Lee (RIP) of Love’s backing band. In ‘97 , they created a new group called The Strands and recorded the delicate, dreamy masterpiece ‘The Magical World Of The Strands’ . They spent a long time making another classic ‘HMS Fable’ , and then decided that next time they wouldn’t take quite as long recording. Enter ‘Here’s Tom With The Weather’.

Showcasing John’s slow , shy emergence as a songwriter to challenge his brother (on the sparkling, heartbreaking ‘Miles Apart’ and ‘Carousel’ , and the spun-out ‘Kilburn High Road’ ) , toasting Mick’s newest confirmation as the most unrecognised genius of his or any other generation (the ode to his bro, ‘Byrds Turn To Stone’ , the mariachi horns that break open the slow folk fog of ‘Meant To Be’ , the two lullaby bookends ..and on , and on) .

“The journey we’ve had together has been beautifully turbulent”, laughs John. “But there’s times when we glide and we’re gliding forward now”

Mick agrees. “Making this album has been frantic, chaos, carnage, intense : the normal way with us. But it doesn’t sound like that. That’s all that matters. The story is what it is. But so are the songs and so are the records. Because we’re good.”

Nobody could disagree with that.

A hugely in demand repress (the original vinyl pressing on North Country changes hands for hundreds of pounds..) now released on Shack’s newly created own label Shack Songs.

The Shack story is one of music’s greatest legends. It incorporates hardship, bereavement and chaotic misadventure, but above all it tells the tale of beautiful music triumphing over trouble and tragedy.

‘Here’s Tom with The Weather’ boasts a majestic and fresh form. These are magical songs, psychedelic folk songs of the finest Head vintage. Sleepy-eyed, wistful and mystical, yet crafted with a cunning and acute dexterity beyond just about anybody you can think of.

The two profoundly Liverpudlian brothers Mick and John Head have made several brilliant albums together , but none as quickly as ‘Here’s Tom…’ which was completed in seven weeks at Brynderwen Studios in North Wales along with drummer Iain Templeton (RIP) , bassist Guy Rigby and producer Jay Reynolds in 2003.

In the 80’s , the two brothers from the notorious Kensington estate in north Liverpool were singer and guitarist with The Pale Fountains , an effervescent pop group which imploded under the weight of two albums in 1986. The Heads returned in ‘88 as Shack and a debut album Zilch. In 1991 , Shack made ‘Waterpistol’ , an inspirational guitar jewel that would have proved just as influential as any British album in that era had the studio not burned down, taking the master tapes with it. Four more years passed , but by the time it was finally released on Marina it had developed ‘lost classic’ status.

The Heads battled on. They toured as their hero Arthur Lee (RIP) of Love’s backing band. In ‘97 , they created a new group called The Strands and recorded the delicate, dreamy masterpiece ‘The Magical World Of The Strands’ . They spent a long time making another classic ‘HMS Fable’ , and then decided that next time they wouldn’t take quite as long recording. Enter ‘Here’s Tom With The Weather’.

Showcasing John’s slow , shy emergence as a songwriter to challenge his brother (on the sparkling, heartbreaking ‘Miles Apart’ and ‘Carousel’ , and the spun-out ‘Kilburn High Road’ ) , toasting Mick’s newest confirmation as the most unrecognised genius of his or any other generation (the ode to his bro, ‘Byrds Turn To Stone’ , the mariachi horns that break open the slow folk fog of ‘Meant To Be’ , the two lullaby bookends ..and on , and on) .

“The journey we’ve had together has been beautifully turbulent”, laughs John. “But there’s times when we glide and we’re gliding forward now”

Mick agrees. “Making this album has been frantic, chaos, carnage, intense : the normal way with us. But it doesn’t sound like that. That’s all that matters. The story is what it is. But so are the songs and so are the records. Because we’re good.”

Nobody could disagree with that.

If you feel like motoring down the highway at 100 miles per hour breathing in pure rock n roll exhaust then look no further– Rowdy is here to kick out the jams and rev up with their self-titled debut LP Rowdy! These seasoned rockers are dealing out a heavy dose of song-forward classic garage punk that sounds like a mixed bag of Joan Jett singing for Teengenerate and Roky Erikson and The Aliens covering Oblivions. This is no surprise as Rowdy is formed by members of legendary Austin band Hex Dispensers and Scotland's Goldie Dawn, (Hex Dispensers, major contributors to the Texas garage punk scene). Rowdy’s sound runs the gamut with catchy 77 punk tunes like “All in My Head”- with its huge chorus, anthemic doo-wop tinged songs like “Fine Mystery, and bluesy garage rippers like “Cost Of It”. The recording is raw and punchy, dripping with overdriven twangy guitars, a steadfast, tight rhythm section, and blown out vocals. This record is pure rock n roll madness! Pop this Rowdy on in your headphones, shotgun a Steel Reserve, and you’ll be on your motorcycle doing donuts on your highschool principal’s lawn in no time.

Second EP from Bristol indie pop six-piece, Hamburger. ‘Beat Back The Ghouls’ sees the band take their sound in a more lush, subtle and layered direction, developing skilfully on the raw songwriting ability offered in their debut. On this record Hamburger create a more complex and sophisticated sound, flitting masterfully between driven guitar hooks, emotive lilting melodies, singalong angst-fuelled hits, and warm dreamy fuzz. ‘Beat Back The Ghouls’ is a record packed with songwriting craft. Each track is a finely-tuned pop song, with catchiness, beautiful melodic turns and delicate harmonic progressions at its heart. The soft, layered vocals add a wonderful contrast to the distorted, driven guitars, as they explore themes such as longing, want and alienation. If you’ve heard Hamburger before, ‘Beat Back the Ghouls’ will mark a new, more refined experience, a band finding itself fully-grown. If you haven’t heard them before, this record is an opportunity not to be missed. Limited to 300 copies on black vinyl.

Ben Klock & Fadi Mohem announce debut collaborative album featuring Coby Sey and Flowdan on new label LAYER

Ben Klock and Fadi Mohem present their first collaborative album on their new label LAYER. The ten-track full length project titled Layer One follows the hypnotic EP Klockworks 34 that set the stage in 2022. In a bold departure from the techno roots that have defined and nurtured their careers, Klock and Mohem are now pushing genre boundaries, exploring IDM, ambient and experimental electronic music while still retaining the brilliance that characterised their earlier work.

The conceptual direction of Layer One delves into a post-human world, where humans are close to extinction on Earth, leaving only imprints, traces, and relics behind—digital fossils and machine-generated images capturing fleeting moments of non-human photography, as Artificial Intelligence remains in a world that quietly thrives without us. We do not perceive this as a bleak apocalyptic dystopia, but more a sober and serene reflection of a world that continues to exist and flourish, indifferent to the absence of humanity. Despite this unremitting setting, through this journey we find survivors who signal a remembrance of the human sensibilities.

Elevating this project are two very human and dynamic collaborations featuring the charismatic Coby Sey and the legendary grime MC Flowdan. Sey, a prominent figure in the British music scene known for his work with artists like Tirzah and Mica Levi, injects his music with a mesmerizing emotional depth. Opening the album with the powerful track ‘Ultimately,’ Sey offers spoken-word musings on creativity and life over experimental landscapes meticulously crafted by Klock and Mohem. Nostalgia permeates this opening track, and track 7 ‘Clean Slate’ reinforces this sentiment with Sey’s stream-of-consciousness wordplay.

Flowdan, the gritty MC whose verses have become anthems of the UK grime movement, made headlines in 2023 with two songs that reached the top 20 of the UK singles chart. In 2024, he was awarded his first Grammy for the Skrillex and Fred Again collaboration Rumble, becoming the first grime artist to win in any category. On track ‘Our Sector,’ Flowdan unleashes his raw energy and dynamic flow, adding a thrilling vocal dimension to the album’s narrative. The fluid delivery of his lyrics and rhythmic timing are enhanced by the staccato beats and abstract synths. These collaborations are not mere features; they are pivotal moments that crystallize the album’s vision—an experimental re-imagining of electronic music’s possibilities.

Immediately offering an impressive entry to Klock and Mohem’s changing sonic universe ‘Escape Velocity’ shows the collaboration at its strongest. Deftly juggling between ambient chords and more densely intricate rhythmic moments. These tightly layered textures and intense clashing moments are continued through most of the album. On other tracks the duo are just as innovative ‘Rest Assured’ rips open the sound palette Klock and Mohem are known for, synths dart around flickering through into unexpected areas. Penultimate track ‘The Machine’ feels like the internal innards of a PC or synthesizer brought to life. Electricity flows through the track like an auditory exploration of the digital world's hidden mechanical and electrical processes. In contrast, final track ‘Melatonin’ does exactly what the name suggests; its soothing melodic ambience cradles the listener as the album draws to a close.

Alongside the album’s release, the duo will release two singles. This album represents the work of two artists at the peak of their creative powers, inviting listeners to step outside the familiar and explore a different musical perspective.

“Music is my forever cove,” writes Portland, Oregon’s Luke Wyland of the ideas that give shape to Kuma Cove, his latest album under his own name. Though named after a real place on the Oregon coast, Kuma Cove casts its gaze far beyond the sightseer’s line of vision. Recorded live in the studio and blurring obvious lines between computer-based composition and electro-acoustic instrumentation, it is an album about flow, borders, transitory states, and shelter. Composed of discontinuous ripples and repetitions (“I’m forever searching for a better descriptor than looping, which feels too simple and flattened by overuse,” Wyland says), shaped into richly emotive arcs, and informed by his experience as a person who stutters, it is also an album about identity, self-expression, and the energies that sluice through and across what we perceive as linear time—like floodwaters seeking an exit, like streams running into the sea.

Artist’s Statement:
I made this record while spending significant time in the woods by the Sandy River in Corbett, Oregon,
where I've had my studio for the last five years. It is a diary of spontaneous live recordings edited to highlight the moments of clarity that emerge from long-form improvisations. These compositions express a slowing internal rhythm. An unwinding. A somatic recalibration as I enter middle age. A newly empowered vulnerability.

Here are the internalized cadences of my stutter, flowing freely from my fingers. The musicality of my disfluency is revealed in its frictions, elongations, and foreshortenings. Disruptions in linear time, where the bubbling cadences of my stutter find unexpected pathways, reveal the elasticity of the present moment. This is my idiosyncratic language, shaped and inspired by my disability. Subliminally mirroring internal processes, neural firings, cognitive entanglements...

The title, Kuma Cove, refers to a beloved cove on the coast of Oregon my wife and I return to yearly. There has always been something so magnetic about coves. The way they cradle one from the overwhelming enormity of the ocean beyond, muting a primordial fear. I experience these improvisations as ecosystems I'm able to inhabit for stretches of time, embodying the particular rhythms and sensorial textures within each. Music is my forever cove. Everything you hear is created live in Ableton on a setup I've been honing for 15 years. I celebrate MIDI and computer music as an extension of self and strive to make it as expressive as any analog instrument. I was a visual artist for the first half of my life and quickly adapted those skills to composing and producing on a computer. The transition felt natural within the landscape of DAW's interfaces, especially as a synesthete. Ableton and its community of Max creators continue to surprise me with its expansiveness.

I'm forever searching for a better descriptor than looping, which feels too simple and flattened by overuse. I envision sonic loops as tangled masses of time, three-dimensional knots spinning on tilted axes, or overlapping wreaths refracting out a myriad of colors. My practice is continually refocusing my ear to what is revealed in the repetitions, searching for the fingerprint of each. I find it incredible how technology lets us manipulate time like this. Nothing on this record is quantized or locked to a universal bpm. Experiencing numerous tempos at once feels important. Recordings as mirrors. Freedom from expected (conversational) flow as we hold time for each other.
-Luke Wyland, August 2024

Artist Bio:
Luke Wyland is an interdisciplinary artist, composer, and performer based in Portland, OR (USA). Wyland has been releasing critically acclaimed records for the past 20 years in the groups AU and Methods Body, as LWW, and under his own name, working with such labels as New Amsterdam, Beacon Sound, Balmat, The Leaf Label, and Aagoo Records. As a person who stutters, Wyland’s approach to music is informed by his idiosyncratic relationship with language. Wyland believes deeply in the cathartic power of live performance as a means for collective healing. Through an interdisciplinary art practice that focuses on improvisation, somatic embodiment, bespoke tuning systems, the cadences of disfluent speech, and time manipulation technologies, he’s collaborated with choreographers, high-school choirs, filmmakers, sound designers, and renowned musicians such as John Niekrasz, Holland Andrews, Colin Stetson, and Abraham Gomez-Delgado. He’s also the co-creator of the “It’s A Fucking Miracle” dance class with Tahni Holt.
Wyland has toured nationally and internationally and performed at the Whitney Museum, Ecstatic Music Festival, Issue Project Room, PICA’s Time-Based Arts Festival, End of the Road Festival, and Les Nuits Botanique, among others.

Last Dinosaurs has found a rhythmic succession over the last decade, one that’s plucked them out of Australia, pulled them through the eye of the European needle, off to write in ancient Japanese ghost towns, onto America’s most iconic stages, and somehow grounded them in the middle of a sacred loophole - a ring of fire, really - that few artists find. They call it a loophole because it hasn’t been linear, it hasn’t been promoted, it hasn’t been announced and popularized and pushed through the press. Blame it on the Latino and Asian kids streaming the sh*t out of their trifecta of indie-rock records or the internet’s international party knuckles banging at their digital door 24/7, but Last Dinosaurs are erupting. They’ve all felt it onstage and backstage in every sold-out sanctuary of sound they have ripped through.

Hitting their tenth release, Heels & Souls Recordings journey to South Africa reissuing Hot Slot Machine’s pioneering and sought after self-titled album from 1992. Cultivating a sound and vibe that took South Africa by storm in the early '90s, the six track LP took influence from the genres that drifted over the Atlantic from the US and UK. From house and R&B, through to soul, hip-hop and reggae - creating a rhythm-driven, bass-heavy blend of them all, repackaged with a township flavour.

Known to many as Joe Nina, Makhosini Henry Xaba’s early forays into production would help lay the foundation for the infectious, groove-laden genre that would go on to be labelled as kwaito. With two albums already under his belt as T. McCool and King Rap, aged just 16 Makhosini wrote and produced Hot Slot Machine with the help of Gerdes Chessman - an LP that was far beyond both its time and his youthful years.

Striving to imitate the heavy house sounds inbound from the UK and America, artists like Blackbox and Ten City became big influences. Hot Slot Machine radiates with those impressions, providing something unique in South Africa in the early ‘90s. Leaning more into house and hip hop than the disco-flavoured bubblegum rhythms, the tracks were richer in sound, heavier on the synths and powered by rattling basslines.

Undeniably infectious and unquestionably well put together, the album contains six hits and no misses. With the chunky hip house grooves of ‘Rhythm’, ‘Unchain My Heart’ and ‘Shake Ya Down’, running side by side with the low slung, magnetic bounce of ‘Lookin’ Mix’, ‘I’ll Be Ready’ and ‘Lovin’ Mix’.

Sadly the tapes were long lost, so the wizards Sean P and Justin Drake ripped and restored the album, with Justin giving it a well-deserved remaster. Licensed from Gallo with the blessing of Makhosini, this truly must-have LP now comes complete with a printed inner sleeve housing liner notes and never-before-seen photography.

Original copies changing hands for £50+ on Discogs. Remastered and reissued for the first time since 1992!

On his latest full-length, Low End Activist swerves towards weightless grime and suspended hardcore miniatures to tell a very personal story. The UK-rooted producer continues his habit of zeroing in on a distinct approach for each release, leaving a logical breadcrumb trail of soundsystem science in his wake as he channels decades of bass absorption into 14 atmospheric cuts that prize patience and precision over obvious club functionality.

Municipal Dreams plays out as a semi-autobiographical tour through the Blackbird Leys estate that the Activist grew up on. It’s a lived reflection on inequality and the ripple effect it has in working class communities, using the sonic palette to set the mood and scattering pointed samples throughout to spell out the story.

In sampling the exhaust of a stolen Subaru Impreza, ‘TWOC’ looks back to the recreational car theft which was standard entertainment for the kids in his community. There’s an underlying idea that this ‘council estate sport’ wouldn’t have been so prevalent if there were public services and opportunities presented to the scores of disaffected youth looking for somewhere to direct their energy and frustration.

In ‘Just A Number (Institutionalised)’ LEA alludes to the shattered juvenile detention system, growing up seeing friends and family members locked up at ease with little to no support on being released back into society, just meant that the same cycles of behaviour would play out over and over.

‘Violence’ samples from a short film shot by the drama division of the Blackbird Leys Youth Club to evoke the physical threat which formed a background hum to life on the estate. The industrial mechanics of the local car factory, which served an integral role as a workplace for many in the community, gets sampled in ‘They Only Come Out At Night’ while the ‘Everyone I look up to are either junkies or criminals’ sample in ‘Broke’ looks to a lack of positive role models.

Municipal Dreams isn’t a one-note indictment of life on the estate, ‘Innocence’ captures the simplicity of a child at birth before their environment has time to shape them. The Hope interludes cut through the grim honesty of the longer tracks while a subtle thread of wry humour finds its way into some of the talking heads cutting through the signature LEA murk.

But honesty is the operative word here, and the message feels all the more meaningful at a time when the UK’s social divisions are laid bare in the wake of a devastating stretch of austerity. Returning to Blackbird Leys to shoot images for the photo-zine and album cover, the Activist found the local community centre being demolished. The local pub stands derelict, its faded Welcome sign a grimly ironic portent of the options facing children of the estate in the wider world.

Funnelling his memories, hopes and fears into a singular twist on the bass weight tradition, LEA captures evocative scenes that land somewhere between kitchen sink realism and rave futurism.

Gary Arce, Pia Isaksen and Dan Joeright have created something very special and amazing with SoftSun. Spaced-out, other-worldy and soothing, the band move within a sphere it's wonderful to be.

Many happy returns to Detroit's Rocksteady Disco, an undeniably consistent label that has reached the ripe old age of ten years old. To celebrate, they're releasing a series of anniversary EPs containing fresh jams from the label's roster of artists. Mainstays Sol Power All Stars get things going with off-kilter Afro-house scorcher 'Solsibisa' - all heavy horns, hot-stepping drum machine beats, squelchy synth-bass and heady vocal snippets - before Eddie Logix combines lightly pitched-down First Choice vocal samples with Balearic guitar bursts and plenty of deep house nous on '2nd Choice (It's Still Not Over)'. Over on the reverse, Blair French gets summery on the Latin-tinged deep house joy of 'Whispers of You', while Topher Horn reaches for dense drums (acoustic and electronic), sparse melodic motifs and heavy bass on 'Gratiot Dub'.

Joel Sarakula's new album "Soft Focus" is a mid-career album spanning his many influences and genres including Soft-Rock, Funk and Indie Pop, all brought under the umbrella of his gentle gaze and a 'soft' aesthetic. "Soft Focus" is also the name of a photographic technique born out of a spherical abberation of the lens where the image is a bit blurry and undefined: it's both flattering and forgiving on the subject. It's an apt title. As a lifetime wearer of (vintage) glasses, Sarakula knows a lot about spherical abberations. Perhaps he produced these songs with his glasses off as these are abstract and warm vignettes, never overstaying their welcome and for this reason Sarakula manages to feature twelve new tracks on "Soft Focus".

Highlights include one of the two Shawn Lee produced tracks "I'll Get By Without You", the rockier, iberic beat of "King Of Spain", the soulful affirmation of "Back For Your Love" and the psychedelic-tinged "Bird Of Paradise" and "Microdosing". This is a lovingly crafted album, well polished and it feels like the culmination of Sarakula's adventures in soulful soft-rock and his defining statement in the genre. While comparisons will be made with contemporary projects like Shawn Lee's Young Gun Silver Fox, Drugdealer, Benny Sings and Prep, echoes of soft-rock icons Ned Doheny, Boz Scaggs, Todd Rundgren and Michael Franks also ripple gently through the album.

Imagine if Ray Manzarek was the frontman for the Bee Gees... It's a neat visual introduction to Joel Sarakula, a UK-based Australian artist who writes, produces and sings Soulful Pop, gazing out at a contemporary world through vintage glasses, vintage threads and long blond hair. His music is informed by a rich, 1970s-inspired palette, drawing on soft-rock, funk and disco influences: sunny, uptempo jams for darker times. Self-aware that he looks and occasionally sounds like the love child of Ray Manzarek and the Gibb brothers, his self-deprecating sense of humour is always there just below the fringe.

Born in Sydney, based in UK and international in outlook Sarakula is a songwriter who has travelled the world in search of his muse, experiencing everything from being a victim of Caribbean carjackings to performing in the remote fishing villages of Norway before finally establishing his career in the UK and Europe. Since then he has released albums such as "Island Time" (2023), "Companionship" (2020), "Love Club" (2018) and "The Imposter" (2015) that have racked up plays on rotation across national UK and European radio and got him noticed in The New York Times, The Independent (UK), The Irish Times, Rolling Stone Germany, El Pais (Spain) and Sydney Morning Herald. It's- been a long road finding his current cult status starting out at the piano from a young age in suburban Sydney, writing and singing songs by the time he was a teenager and onstage by fifteen years old playing jazz standards in his local golf club. "I came from humble beginnings, it's best not to mention" as he sings in his 70s boogie influenced song "I'm Still Winning". Joel Sarakula is a fixture on the festival and club circuit having previously performed at SXSW, Primavera Sound and Glastonbury festivals. Ever the internationalist, he tours with pickup bands sourced from each territory he plays in: a Barcelona band for Spain, a Berlin band for Germany and so forth. This cross-cultural exchange is another echo of the 1970s when world travelling soul and pop artists from the US did the same and guarantees that his live shows remain fresh, exciting and absolutely contemporary.

The seeds of composer Rafael Anton Irisarri’s latest LP were first planted during his 2016 tour in Italy, months before that Autumn’s unexpected presidential election. The linguistic glitch of an innocuous diner in Milan named “il Mito Americano” – meant as “The American Dream” but translated literally to English as “The American Myth” – sparked a series of ideas, both conceptual and musical.

Amid the chaos of 2020, while exploring the stark world of brutalist architecture and inspired by the false fronts of Potemkin villages, a vision started to take shape: FAÇADISMS. Composed over three years, it’s a late capitalist lament of simmering electric despondency.

Irisarri’s obsession with repeating motifs mirrors the cyclical nature of our tumultuous political history. The album’s eight tracks heave and storm like a tempest being drained of its rage. This is the sound of majestic dissipation, of morning afters, fashioned from a mournful haze with cavernous guitars and granular twilight. A euphony of a receding tide as one sifts through the remnants of what remains: dust, delusion, and memory.

Opening with the somber gauze of “Broken Intensification," FAÇADISMS moves fluidly between moments of absence and abandon. Ashen swaths of electronics billow above smoldering embers of melody, guitar, and scattered streaks of processed strings and voice, as on the rapturous doom of “Control Your Soul's Desire for Freedom,” featuring Julia Kent on cello and Hannah Elizabeth Cox on vocals. "The impoverished peoples of the Americas have known all along that 'freedom' is a cruel illusion crafted by the elites, akin to Potemkin's fake villages designed to impress Catherine the Great," Irisarri indicates. "FAÇADISMS illustrates a twisted inversion where the rulers deceive their subjects with illusions of safety, democracy, and free speech to create a grotesque mirage of control over their own lives.”

Elsewhere, Irisarri leans into passages of hushed oblivion (“Hollow,” “Dispersion of Belief”), while ragged drones rumble and disintegrate into wind-battered ambient wreckage. One has the sense that it’s all too late. The hour of fury has passed. The beauty has come and gone. Irisarri’s muse has become the crack in the façade of the unraveling myth.

The record closes with a climax of grand departure. Co-written with Kenyan sound artist KMRU, “Red Moon Tide” surges from flickering elegy to celestial disquiet, roiling waves of hymnal descent, and bristling noise. The effect is unsettling and unmooring: a soundtrack for the soul leaving the body, only to discover a void. It’s the sound of the center not holding, of shared illusions being dissolved in a tunnel of white light.

The cover photograph captures a profound sense of desolation. Taken in the historic shanty town of La Perla, Puerto Rico, where Irisarri spent his childhood, brutal colonial mysteries are lost to time. A skeletal concrete structure decays against an expansive blue horizon. Only the shadow of its shell ripples on the empty sea.

Has the American myth finally run its course?

The seeds of composer Rafael Anton Irisarri’s latest LP were first planted during his 2016 tour in Italy, months before that Autumn’s unexpected presidential election. The linguistic glitch of an innocuous diner in Milan named “il Mito Americano” – meant as “The American Dream” but translated literally to English as “The American Myth” – sparked a series of ideas, both conceptual and musical.

Amid the chaos of 2020, while exploring the stark world of brutalist architecture and inspired by the false fronts of Potemkin villages, a vision started to take shape: FAÇADISMS. Composed over three years, it’s a late capitalist lament of simmering electric despondency.

Irisarri’s obsession with repeating motifs mirrors the cyclical nature of our tumultuous political history. The album’s eight tracks heave and storm like a tempest being drained of its rage. This is the sound of majestic dissipation, of morning afters, fashioned from a mournful haze with cavernous guitars and granular twilight. A euphony of a receding tide as one sifts through the remnants of what remains: dust, delusion, and memory.

Opening with the somber gauze of “Broken Intensification," FAÇADISMS moves fluidly between moments of absence and abandon. Ashen swaths of electronics billow above smoldering embers of melody, guitar, and scattered streaks of processed strings and voice, as on the rapturous doom of “Control Your Soul's Desire for Freedom,” featuring Julia Kent on cello and Hannah Elizabeth Cox on vocals. "The impoverished peoples of the Americas have known all along that 'freedom' is a cruel illusion crafted by the elites, akin to Potemkin's fake villages designed to impress Catherine the Great," Irisarri indicates. "FAÇADISMS illustrates a twisted inversion where the rulers deceive their subjects with illusions of safety, democracy, and free speech to create a grotesque mirage of control over their own lives.”

Elsewhere, Irisarri leans into passages of hushed oblivion (“Hollow,” “Dispersion of Belief”), while ragged drones rumble and disintegrate into wind-battered ambient wreckage. One has the sense that it’s all too late. The hour of fury has passed. The beauty has come and gone. Irisarri’s muse has become the crack in the façade of the unraveling myth.

The record closes with a climax of grand departure. Co-written with Kenyan sound artist KMRU, “Red Moon Tide” surges from flickering elegy to celestial disquiet, roiling waves of hymnal descent, and bristling noise. The effect is unsettling and unmooring: a soundtrack for the soul leaving the body, only to discover a void. It’s the sound of the center not holding, of shared illusions being dissolved in a tunnel of white light.

The cover photograph captures a profound sense of desolation. Taken in the historic shanty town of La Perla, Puerto Rico, where Irisarri spent his childhood, brutal colonial mysteries are lost to time. A skeletal concrete structure decays against an expansive blue horizon. Only the shadow of its shell ripples on the empty sea.

Has the American myth finally run its course?

The seeds of composer Rafael Anton Irisarri’s latest LP were first planted during his 2016 tour in Italy, months before that Autumn’s unexpected presidential election. The linguistic glitch of an innocuous diner in Milan named “il Mito Americano” – meant as “The American Dream” but translated literally to English as “The American Myth” – sparked a series of ideas, both conceptual and musical.

Amid the chaos of 2020, while exploring the stark world of brutalist architecture and inspired by the false fronts of Potemkin villages, a vision started to take shape: FAÇADISMS. Composed over three years, it’s a late capitalist lament of simmering electric despondency.

Irisarri’s obsession with repeating motifs mirrors the cyclical nature of our tumultuous political history. The album’s eight tracks heave and storm like a tempest being drained of its rage. This is the sound of majestic dissipation, of morning afters, fashioned from a mournful haze with cavernous guitars and granular twilight. A euphony of a receding tide as one sifts through the remnants of what remains: dust, delusion, and memory.

Opening with the somber gauze of “Broken Intensification," FAÇADISMS moves fluidly between moments of absence and abandon. Ashen swaths of electronics billow above smoldering embers of melody, guitar, and scattered streaks of processed strings and voice, as on the rapturous doom of “Control Your Soul's Desire for Freedom,” featuring Julia Kent on cello and Hannah Elizabeth Cox on vocals. "The impoverished peoples of the Americas have known all along that 'freedom' is a cruel illusion crafted by the elites, akin to Potemkin's fake villages designed to impress Catherine the Great," Irisarri indicates. "FAÇADISMS illustrates a twisted inversion where the rulers deceive their subjects with illusions of safety, democracy, and free speech to create a grotesque mirage of control over their own lives.”

Elsewhere, Irisarri leans into passages of hushed oblivion (“Hollow,” “Dispersion of Belief”), while ragged drones rumble and disintegrate into wind-battered ambient wreckage. One has the sense that it’s all too late. The hour of fury has passed. The beauty has come and gone. Irisarri’s muse has become the crack in the façade of the unraveling myth.

The record closes with a climax of grand departure. Co-written with Kenyan sound artist KMRU, “Red Moon Tide” surges from flickering elegy to celestial disquiet, roiling waves of hymnal descent, and bristling noise. The effect is unsettling and unmooring: a soundtrack for the soul leaving the body, only to discover a void. It’s the sound of the center not holding, of shared illusions being dissolved in a tunnel of white light.

The cover photograph captures a profound sense of desolation. Taken in the historic shanty town of La Perla, Puerto Rico, where Irisarri spent his childhood, brutal colonial mysteries are lost to time. A skeletal concrete structure decays against an expansive blue horizon. Only the shadow of its shell ripples on the empty sea.

Has the American myth finally run its course?