Suche:sad

It is with a certain sadness for his fans across mediums that Donald Glover has declared Bando Stone and the New World the last Childish Gambino album. The ostensible soundtrack to a feature-length movie of the same name, the hour-long project includes snippets of dialogue that hint at the film’s apocalyptic subject matter. The fact that the soundtrack is preceding the actual film is part of Glover’s strategy: He wants listeners to work to figure out what they’re listening to. “The soundtrack forces the audience to participate in a way that I don't feel like most things force you to participate,” he says. “It forces you to have an imagination. I already see people being like, 'This is very cinematic, this must be the part that... This feels like a credit sequence.' A lot of stuff feels flat because it's not asking you to participate. Art used to be you had to participate on some level and have some sort of thought process on it. You can't just be like, 'Oh, this is mid.'” Even without the benefit of the full visuals, these 17 tracks make for a satisfying swan song that synthesizes what came before with fresher ideas gleaned from the threshold of finality.

1990's Recurring, the fourth and final studio album by Spacemen 3, is often considered the introduction of two brilliant solo projects (Spectrum and Spiritualized) rather than the work of a functioning band. While Spacemen 3's departing statement surely reveals a deep divide within the S3 camp – each side of the LP was written by Sonic Boom and Jason Pierce separately and, unlike previous releases, the two do not play on each other's songs – Recurring maintains a cohesive, dreamy feel with its chief sonic officers backed by fellow travelers Will Carruthers, Mark Refoy and Jon Mattock.

Opening saga "Big City (Everybody I Know Can Be Found Here)" marries ambient haze with narcotized indie rock, while "I Love You" manages to arrange a beautiful flute alongside a defiantly throbbing bass track. "Hypnotized," a reimagined fuzz-pop hymn, would become the group's first entry in the UK Singles Charts. Recurring lays bare the essence of Spacemen 3's persistent sound, rooted in both aural expansion and phenomenal songwriting.

Includes download card and new insert with liner notes by Marc Masters.

Koinè is the new album by Pellegrino & Zodyaco, a record that explores the desire to escape by interpreting it as an act of emancipation, an aimless journey in search of creative freedom. The demonstration that escapism, when it is conscious, can bring us back to the heart of things. Inspired by Éloge de la fuite by Henri Laborit, the album embarks on a journey to discover a “common language” (Koinè), blending Neapolitan roots with a global and contemporary musical vision. It blends melodic traditions with disco, funk, jazz fusion, and world music, experimenting with vintage instruments, ethnic percussion, and Mediterranean atmospheres. Pellegrino, a pioneer of the “new school” Neapolitan sound, after 4 years since his last LP “Morphé” (2020) continues the path started with Zodyaco I (2018), painting an authentic portrait of modern Naples and celebrating musical contamination as a form of creative euphoria.

For their second album 'The Foel Tower', Quade holed up in an old stone barn in the cradle of a Welsh mountain valley.
The valley was a stark and windswept backdrop with little daylight, as the band would huddle around crackling fires each evening. “There was very much a feeling of being on the complete fringes of society,” the band says. “The last vestiges of settlement before the unrelenting barren moors that loomed over us.”
It was an environment that would shape the band – a Bristol four piece made up of Barney Matthews, Leo Fini, Matt Griffiths and Tom Connolly – and the record they have made. It’s an album that is as dreamy as it is melancholic, and as quiet and tender as it is forceful and potent – gliding across genres like winds blowing over those wide-spanning Welsh hills – to arrive at something the band half-jokingly, yet somewhat accurately, describe as “doomer sad boy, ambient-dub, folk, experimental post-rock.”

Quade is a band but it’s also a very close-knit group that have been friends since childhood who use this musical vehicle for interpersonal explorations and connections. “We’ve individually experienced a lot of difficulty over the last several years and Quade has represented a space to shelter from these,” the band says. “This means we often communicate extensively with each other about the issues affecting us individually and collectively. These conversations and concerns are central to The Foel Tower.”

In many ways, the making of this record – or any Quade record – goes way deeper than the simple writing, construction and recording of music. It is a profoundly deep and meaningful experience. “A key theme of the album relates to why we connect with specific places in the way that we do,” the group says. “We often remove ourselves to isolated valleys, sheltered from some of the painful personal struggles that we have experienced as a band. These become spaces in which we collectively purge ourselves of some of these difficulties hoping to make Quade a physical and emotional place of solace. This album celebrates these places that we’ve been able to retreat to and recuperate.”

It is a deep, dense record that is stuffed with musical, cinematic and literary influences – from Ursula La Guin and Cormac MacCarthy through to RS Thomas and Yeats – but despite the heavy, introspective and anxious nature of some of the material, it is also a record that is remarkably deft, agile and considered.

Made with producer Jack Ogborne and mixer Larry ‘Bruce’ McCarthy, there is a pleasing duality to the final sound of the record. One that feels fragile and intimate but also powerful and forceful, as introspective as it is expansive, and a record that is as detailed and textured as it is wide open and spacious.

The album title also pays homage to the place that shaped it so greatly. Within this remote Welsh valley stands the Foel Tower, a stone structure filled with valves and cylinders that can raise and lower the level of the reservoir to draw off water. Which it can then send as far as 70 miles to Birmingham. However, in the late 1800s this land was occupied by local farmers and families in the hundreds until the British Government acquired the land, cleared the valleys, and promptly displaced them in order to begin serving the vastly expanding industrial English city. The band dug into the history and politics of this and wove it into the themes they were already thinking about, using what the Foel Tower stands for as something of a contemporary metaphor. “This tension was something that we wanted to explore without the haughty judgement of our more metropolitan lifestyles,” they say. “And to explore how this specifically relates to ourselves: how can we envisage a genuinely ecological future for ourselves – one that is accessible, affordable and in harmony with endangered rural practices.”

What makes The Foel Tower such an incredible record is that it feels born of a time, place and situation that only existed in that very moment. It’s a snapshot of those 10 days spent in rural Wales and all the feelings and anxieties the band were experiencing at that specific time, magically caught on tape. “The album very much feels tied to this valley for us and the conversations and experiences we shared there,” they say. “It brings up a great deal of poignancy for us, an emblem of some fleeting respite from the strains we all have to experience. But there’s also deep sadness knowing how transient these moments are – in fact, there’s just a great deal of sadness in this album. But it’s also a record that while personal, resigned, and emotionally burdened, is ultimately hopeful.”

As they celebrate a remarkable 20 years as a band in 2025, Mayday Parade are set to release perhaps their most aspirational sort yet: SWEET, SAD, SUGAR, a three-part album showcasing their prolific, emotionally resonant songwriting. The first entry, SWEET, arrives April 18, 2025. Across its eight songs, SWEET succinctly showcases just how far Mayday Parade has come in those years: The trademark sound that’s transformed them from genre newcomers to torchbearers for a new generation is still there, but fans will also nd the band continuing to nudge the edges of their sound outward, whether they’re stomping through reactive alt-rock, crafting wryly sardonic pop-punk, standing up shimmering arena rock, or melding muscular, grungy guitars with electro-pop sweetness. Recorded with longtime producers Zack Odom and Kenneth Mount, SWEET, SAD, SUGAR marks Mayday Parade’s first album since 2021’s What It Means To Fall Apart as well as the band’s first self-released collection.

Rhiannon Giddens reunites with her former Carolina Chocolate Drops bandmate Justin Robinson on What Did the Blackbird Say to the Crow, an album of North Carolina fiddle and banjo music. Produced by Giddens and Joseph "joebass" DeJarnette, the album features Giddens on banjo and Robinson on fiddle, with the duo playing eighteen of their favourite North Carolina tunes: a mix of instrumentals and tunes with words.

Many were learned from their late mentor, the legendary North Carolina Piedmont musician Joe Thompson; one is from another musical hero, the late Etta Baker, from whom they also learned by listening to recordings of her playing. Giddens and Robinson recorded the album outdoors and on location at Thompson’s and Baker’s North Carolina homes, as well as the former plantation Mill Prong House. They were accompanied by the sounds of nature, including two different broods of cicadas, which had not emerged simultaneously since 1803, creating a true once-in-a-lifetime soundscape. The duo, along with four other string musicians including the multi-instrumentalist Dirk Powell, will embark on the Rhiannon Giddens & The Old-Time Revue North America tour in April.

“With the assaults on reality going on in the world today, we wanted to offer another kind of record, like walking back onto a gravel or dirt road while a stampede goes the other way,” Giddens says. “With the cicada choir, this record could’ve only happened at a certain time in the last 120 years. We doubled down on place, time, realness, and old-fashioned front porch music. It’s a reminder that another way exists, with music made for your community’s enjoyment and for dancing–not solely for commercial purposes.

“What is the role of music in our society?” she wonders. “How do we de-couple it from unfettered capitalism, where music is a product and musicians are incidental? How do we use the tools and system that we have been bequeathed in a way that reminds us of other ways of being?” Robinson adds, "Recording this album felt like being back in the saddle. Just this time Joe is not here, and his fiddle is under my chin. The album is about home, the cicadas, the storms, the music, and the people who make it feel like home."

Thompson was one of the last musicians of his era and his community to carry on the southern Black string band tradition. He played a crucial role in the lives of Giddens and Robinson, who, along with their Carolina Chocolate Drops bandmate Dom Flemons, spent their formative years learning from Thompson in traditional apprentice/mentor relationships. His influence has guided all of their artistic journeys as well as their mission to keep the legacy of the Black string band tradition alive.

In further tribute to Giddens’ North Carolina roots, What Did the Blackbird Say to the Crow will arrive just a week before Biscuits & Banjos, the inaugural edition of her first festival, which highlights the deep roots and enduring legacy of Black music, art, and culture while fostering community and storytelling. The sold-out festival will feature a much-anticipated Carolina Chocolate Drops reunion, their first performance together in more than a decade.

Renowned DJ and selector MURO is a Jedi-level compiler and this new collection of his delves into Victor's extensive archives to spotlight a world of Japanese jazz, fusion and AOR. It take sin plenty of internationally known names like Yasuko Agawa on the sunset sounds of 'L.A. Night', Sadistics who offers the more psyched out guitar leans of 'On the Seashore', Yuji Ohno's neo-Balaeric bliss-out 'The Dawn of Seychells' and Hiroshi Fukumura's soul soothing Ry Ayres-style melodies on 'White Clouds.' These are luxurious sounds and timeless tracks with MURO's signature funky perspective making this a brillaint choice for brighter, warmer days.

L.A. Witch haben schon immer eine Aura müheloser Coolness ausgestrahlt, sei es in Form des Americana Noir und des lakonischen Back-to-Basics-Rock'n'Roll ihres selbstbetitelten Debüts oder des glühend strengen Abenteurertums ihres zweiten Albums "Play With Fire". Die Band - bestehend aus Sade Sanchez (Gitarre/Gesang), Irita Pai (Bass) und Ellie English (Schlagzeug) - begann als informelle Angelegenheit, aber die schwülen und betörenden, von Hall umhüllten Songs, die sie schufen, fanden beim Publikum Anklang und brachten das Projekt über den isolierten Raum von Freunden und Gleichgesinnten in Südkalifornien hinaus in die weite Welt. Auf ihrem neuesten Album "DOGGOD" geht das Trio über die bisherigen kreativen und geografischen Grenzen hinaus - das Material wurde in Paris produziert und die Tracks im Motorbass Studio in der Rue de Martyrs aufgenommen. "DOGGOD" erkundet ein breiteres klangliches Terrain, setzt ein größeres Arsenal an Sounds ein und erforscht größere existenzielle und kosmische Themen, ohne dabei den für die Band typischen Sinn für das Verbotene, das Verlassene und die Vorahnung zu verlieren. "DOGGOD" ist ein Weg, das universelle Rätsel der spirituellen Natur von Liebe und Hingabe anzugehen. "Ich habe das Gefühl, eine Art Dienerin oder Sklavin der Liebe zu sein", sagt Sanchez. "Ich bin bereit, für die Liebe zu sterben, indem ich ihr diene, für sie leide oder nach ihr suche - so wie ein treuer, ergebener Diensthund es tun würde." Der Titel des Albums ist ein Palindrom, das DOG und GOD zusammenfasst - eine Verherrlichung des Unterwürfigen und eine Subversion des Göttlichen. Es ist eine Anspielung auf die Reinheit von Hunden und eine Anerkennung ihrer bedingungslosen Liebe und ihres beschützenden Wesens, die im Widerspruch zu den verschiedenen abwertenden Assoziationen stehen, die mit dieser Spezies verbunden werden. "Es gibt diese symbolische Verbindung zwischen Frauen und Hunden, die die untergeordnete Stellung der Frau in der Gesellschaft zum Ausdruck bringt", erklärt Sanchez. "Und alles, was solche göttlichen Eigenschaften verkörpert, hat es nicht verdient, als Schimpfwort benutzt zu werden." Diese widersprüchlichen Erkundungen von Liebe und Unterwerfung manifestieren sich in der sanften und rauchigen Garagerock-Alchemie der Band, mit einer neu entdeckten Nutzung der disziplinierten Zurückhaltung und eisigen Instrumentierung des Post-Punk. Der Album-Opener "Icicle" zeigt, wie L.A. Witch aus dem Proto-Punk, der Psychedelia und den düsteren Riffs der 70er Jahre in die von Refrains durchtränkten Gitarren und den verlorenen Minimalismus von Joy Division und den frühen The Cure reist. Es wird eine Parallele zwischen romantischem Selbstmord und Märtyrertum gezogen, die sich im zweiten Song, "Kiss Me Deep", fortsetzt. Hier beschreibt Sanchez eine Liebe, die so rein ist, dass sie die Zeit übersteigt und sich über mehrere Leben erstreckt. Es ist ein Lied über Leidenschaft, vorgetragen mit dem weltlichen und verletzten Stoizismus der frühen Goth-Pioniere. Von dort aus geht die Band zur Leadsingle "777" über, einem Song über Hingabe bis hin zum Tod. Ein treibender Beat, ein treibendes, verzerrtes Riff und Sanchez' ätherischer Gesang vereinen sich zu einem Song, der sowohl düster in seinem Fatalismus als auch sinnlich in seiner treuen Leidenschaft ist. Auf dem gesamten Album "DOGGOD" weichen L.A. Witch nie von ihrer Muse ab. In "I Hunt You Pray" legt Pai einen hypnotischen Basslauf hin, während English einen zyklischen Krautrock-Groove einsetzt und Sanchez das Bild eines verlassenen Hundes am Straßenrand malt, der allein in der Nacht ist und sowohl als Jäger als auch als Gejagter lebt. Auf "Eyes of Love" macht sich die Band die meditativen Mid-Tempo-Wiederholungen, dekonstruierten Akkorde und esoterischen Betrachtungen über Liebe, Tod und Spiritualität zunutze, die Lungfish zu einer so beliebten Band gemacht haben. Es unterstreicht die Parallele zwischen der unerschütterlichen Liebe in den Augen eines Hundes und der Selbstaufopferung eines Erlösers. Auf "The Lines" nimmt die Band den treibenden Puls des Post-Punk und fügt dem Mix eine Extraportion Chorus hinzu. "Chorus ist ein moderner Effekt, der auf der Idee beruht, die leichten Tonhöhenunterschiede eines Chors nachzubilden. Es gibt eine schimmernde Qualität, die uns zurück zu diesem spirituellen, göttlichen Gefühl bringt", erklärt Sanchez. Gepaart mit dem Einsatz von Orgel und einer grüblerischen Moll-Melodie, beschwört der Song gleichzeitig das Heilige und das Sakrileg. Der Titeltrack "DOGGOD" hat vielleicht die größte Ähnlichkeit mit dem Material des Vorgängeralbums "Play With Fire", in den schlanken und gemeinen Gitarren auf eine raue Rhythmusgruppe und verträumten Gesang treffen. Aber während ihr vorheriges Album ein Aufruf war, seinen eigenen Weg zu gehen, bleibt "DOGGOD" dem "Bis dass der Tod uns scheidet"-Thema des Albums treu und geht sogar so weit, ein Maß an Unterwerfung zu beschreiben, das in gefährliche und ungesunde Gefilde übergeht, wobei Sanchez singt "hang me on a leash / `til I wait for my release". Letztendlich ist "DOGGOD" eine perfekte Verkörperung des Ansatzes von L.A. Witch. Es ist gleichzeitig romantisch und bedrohlich, ehrfürchtig und profan, eine Feier und ein Klagelied. Es spannt den Bogen zwischen Vergangenheit und Gegenwart, indem es vertraute Klänge aufgreift und sie für die Jetztzeit aufbereitet. Aber es läutet auch eine neue Ära für die Band ein, die über die Kodachrome-Erinnerungen an das Amerika der Jahrhundertmitte hinausgeht und tiefer in den mittelalterlichen und gotischen Energien von Paris und darüber hinaus gräbt, während sie gleichzeitig ein besudeltes Herz erforscht.

The Delights formerly unissued recording “Listen To Me Girl” first made it’s vinyl debut during 2017 when released back to back with Tearra’s modern soul anthem “Just Loving You” (SJ1008). Having sold out very quickly this release now commands a price of £60.00 a copy. So, with demand still high we have decided to release “Listen To Me Girl” for a second time with the addition of two recently found unissued master tape tracks, which make their vinyl debut as part of this 3 track EP.

The Delights story began in the early 1960’s while as a children’s group from Chester PA. known as ‘The Twilights’ they began entering local talent shows which culminated in a performance at Philadelphia’s prestigious ‘Uptown Theatre’ during 1963. ‘The Twilights’ made their professional recording debut in 1964 for Weldon McDougal III, Johnny Stiles and Luther Randolph’s Harthon Production’s label with “It’s Been So Long/She Put Me Down” (TW-34). A second Twilights 45 came in 1967 “Shipwreck/For The First Time” (TW-35) which sold sufficiently well to be picked up for national distribution by Cameo Parkway. The group consisted of four male vocalists, brothers Kemp “Toppy” Hill, Ellis “Butch” Hill (the eldest) and Jaime “Peanut” Hill and their friend Raymond, plus lead singer and only female member Brandi ‘Peaches’ Wells (born Marquerite J. Pinder) who was only 9 years old when she sang on the group’s first Harthon 45, (Jaime Hill reputedly never featured on either of the two Harthon 45 recordings).

The Hill Brothers were cousins of Manny Campbell and it’s through this family connection that the group came to Emandolynn Productions initially as backing singers before being persuaded by Manny to drop their former performing name of ‘The Twilights’, to become ‘The Delights’. Under Manny and fellow Philadelphian Charles J. Bowen’s tutelage they recorded the delightful crossover dance track “Listen To Me Girl” during the months of July and August of 1968. Recent unearthed master tape finds from these early sessions have since yielded the featured “Come And Rejoice” an energetic subtle gospel influenced dance track which Manny wrote and produced on them in the hope of giving them a wider body of work and appeal as he shopped their demos around local record companies. The original backing track to “Listen To Me” is also featured on this release.

During the mid-1970’s ‘The Delights’ under the tutelage of respected Philly producer, arranger and songwriter Morris Bailey Jr recorded two 45 releases for the Jamie/Guyden distributed Phil-L.A Of Soul label “It’s As Simple As That/I’ve Got Enough Sense” (PH-374) and “Face The Music/Things Ain’t What They Used To Be” (PH-379). Brandi Wells had left the group prior to the Phil-L.A Of Soul releases to firstly join Major Harris’s backing singers ‘Brown Sugar’ before forming the group ‘Breeze’ who backed fellow WMOT label stable mates Billy Paul, Fat Larry & Philly Cream (a.k.a Ingram). Breeze later evolved into the group Slick who recorded the self-named album which produced the chart hits “Space Bass” and “Sexy Cream”. In 1981 Brandi recorded her first solo debut album ‘Watch Out’ which reached #37 on the Billboard R&B Chart, her second solo album entitled “20TH Century Fox” followed in 1985 for the Omni label. She recorded the Butch Ingram penned “I Love You” 12” single for Butch’s Society Hill records in 1992. Sadly, Brandi Wells passed away in 2003 at the age of 47.

Rosettes are finally here with their debut album on Timmion Records, Lifestyles, a compelling journey into psychedelic soul, jazzy funk, and introspective grooves. For the listener, it creates an experience that manages to be both sophisticated and raw to the bone. Expanding on the sound they refined with their previous singles, this 10-track album captures the group in top form while crafting intoxicating sonic potions that pull you in. Featuring standout tracks like the soulful opener "The Call," the Isaac Hayes-inspired title track "Lifestyles," and the introspective groover "Spirals," the album weaves together cinematic instrumentals, intricate horn arrangements, and deeply personal storytelling, courtesy of lead singer Tytti Roto. Drawing inspiration from a range of vintage and contemporary masters_Cymande, SAULT, and Sade, to name a few_the rest of the eight-piece group doesn't linger in the shadows. Instead, they make it their mission to position the groove front and center. The album closes with "The Queen," the sole instrumental track, which evokes the spirit of 1970s blaxploitation soundtracks with its wah-wah and fuzz guitars and jazzy changes. Every track on Lifestyles is a testament to the Rosettes' ability to craft genre-blending masterpieces that are as emotionally gripping as they are musically intricate. For fans of adventurous soul and funk, this album offers a rich and rewarding journey.

Sophie Löw alias SOPHIA BLENDA ist Multiinstrumentalistin, Songwriterin und Sängerin der Band CULK. Bereits auf ihrem ersten Soloalbum "Die Neue Heiterkeit" (2022) stemmte sich die Wienerin mit schwermütig am Klavier vertontem und poetisch betextetem Kammerpop gegen das lähmende Grundrauschen gesellschaftlicher Zwänge. Die Musik von SOPHIA BLENDA ist ein leiser, aber wirkungsvoller Protest. "DIE SUMME DER VEREINZELUNG" ist eine Anklage, und ein feministischer Weckruf. Wie viele Einzelfälle, fragt das neue Album von SOPHIA BLENDA, müssen es noch werden, damit sie begreifen, dass es keine Einzelfälle gibt. Der Albumtitel spricht Bände. Denn was ist die Summe aus den vielen einzelnen Geschichten, als ein gewaltsames System, das FLINTA* und queere Menschen ignoriert, diskriminiert und herabwürdigt. Trotzdem wird den Betroffenen oft gar nicht erst geglaubt oder wenn doch, keine Bedeutung beigemessen. "Dem will ich mein Album entgegenstellen", sagt SOPHIA BLENDA. "Es beschäftigt mich schon lange, dass weiblich gelesener und queerer Schmerz in unserer Gesellschaft so verharmlost wird. Ich will diese Geschichten erzählen, ohne irgendetwas kleinzureden. Hier wird nichts nebenbei oder am Rande verhandelt. Die Lieder geben den Geschichten den Stellenwert, den sie verdienen." Ihr Kampf als Musikerin ist ein Kampf gegen den Verlust der eigenen Geschichten, Gedanken und Gefühle im Sturm der Gegenwart. Und ein Gegenentwurf zur Vereinzelung, Vereinsamung und Isolation, die im mehrdeutigen Titel des neuen Albums schon mit angelegt ist. Entstehen tun die gesellschaftskritischen und unheilvoll drängenden Kompositionen alleine am Klavier zu Hause in Wien. Von dort aus wachsen die intim vorgetragenen Lieder zu etwas Kollektivem. Ganz im Sinne von: Zusammen sind wir weniger alleine. "DIE SUMME DER VEREINZELUNG" ist ein starkes Pop-Statement. Eine furchtlose Seelenverortung. Kritisch, suchend, fragend. Ein Mahnmal für das eigene Selbst. Oder um es mit einem Songtext SOPHIA BLENDAS zu sagen: "Ein Frühlingserwachen / Meine Mahnwache / Meine eigene Revolution / Ich bin nicht wie du mich willst" Sophie Löws Perspektiven, musikalisch wie inhaltlich, ob krachend-düster oder zart-dunkel, ob mit CULK oder durch SOPHIA BLENDA vorgetragen, sind nicht einfach zugänglich, aber von einer schmerzenden Wahrhaftigkeit, welche in uns nachwirken sollte.

Another double sider of classic 90s boom bappers for the first time on 45! A couple of mixtape bangers from ex-Brand Nubian legend. Limited to 300 copies

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).

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.

ADRIAN YOUNGE PRESENTS SOMETHING ABOUT APRIL II synthesizes the boundaries between Black American soul and classic European cinema. The album features an array of entrancing vocalists: Laetitia Sadier (Stereolab), Bilal, Raphael Saadiq, Loren Oden and Israeli star, Karolina, who delivers haunting chants over concertos. Younge is the experimental spirit of the modernist vanguard, looking into the past to create the future. Recorded and mixed by Adrian Younge at Linear Labs, the preeminent analog studio of Los Angeles, CA.

Rosettes are finally here with their debut album on Timmion Records, Lifestyles, a compelling journey into psychedelic soul, jazzy funk, and introspective grooves. For the listener, it creates an experience that manages to be both sophisticated and raw to the bone. Expanding on the sound they refined with their previous singles, this 10-track album captures the group in top form while crafting intoxicating sonic potions that pull you in. Featuring standout tracks like the soulful opener "The Call," the Isaac Hayes-inspired title track "Lifestyles," and the introspective groover "Spirals," the album weaves together cinematic instrumentals, intricate horn arrangements, and deeply personal storytelling, courtesy of lead singer Tytti Roto. Drawing inspiration from a range of vintage and contemporary masters_Cymande, SAULT, and Sade, to name a few_the rest of the eight-piece group doesn't linger in the shadows. Instead, they make it their mission to position the groove front and center. The album closes with "The Queen," the sole instrumental track, which evokes the spirit of 1970s blaxploitation soundtracks with its wah-wah and fuzz guitars and jazzy changes. Every track on Lifestyles is a testament to the Rosettes' ability to craft genre-blending masterpieces that are as emotionally gripping as they are musically intricate. For fans of adventurous soul and funk, this album offers a rich and rewarding journey.