Buscar:saint is

Lo-fi Beats is a fine and elegant new collection made for a cosy trip in music. Relax with a jazzy sound.

Alien Transistor present Alien Parade Japan, a joyous double-album compilation of groups from Japan’s indie-pop and avant-garde undergrounds, all of which feature brass or woodwind instruments as part of their line-up. Compiled by Markus Acher (Alien Transistor, The Notwist, Hochzeitskapelle) with plenty of support and help from his Spirit Fest bandmate, Saya (also of Tenniscoats), it features some familiar names – Tenniscoats, naturally, but also Zayaendo, Tori Kudo’s Maher Shalal Hash Baz – alongside lesser-known groups like Biobiopatata, Mitamurakandadan?, Kourakuen, sekifu, and Noah Lewis Mahlon’ Taits, amongst many others.

The collection of songs here rests upon a simple question, and an interesting parallel: Why do so many groups from Japan include brass and woodwind, and how closely does this echo the scene that Acher is involved with in Munich? The idea was formulated in Acher’s mind after one of his groups, Hochzeitskapelle, had been invited by Saya to Japan in 2019, to take part in the Alien Parade Japan tour. “Saya and her friends recommended a lot of music to me that I didn’t know of,” Acher recalls, “and I was surprised and excited to find so many Japanese bands who use brass and woodwind instruments.”

This approach was something Acher had been familiar with for a while, thanks to his experiences in Munich: “Until then I thought of the Munich scene, where Hochzeitskapelle come from, as being quite unique in having ex-punk and still-indie musicians form loud acoustic bands with many brass instruments and play a wild mixture of styles.” And indeed, that variety is reflected in the twenty-two songs on Alien Parade Japan, which flits from the pastoral melody of Maher Shalal Hash Baz’s “Crossin The Tama River”, through the tenderness of various sighhorns’s “people have called them flowers”, to the folksy lament of Gratin Carnival’s “Just Watching”.

Alien Parade Japan reaches further afield, too, drawing in some groups, like HOSE, Fuigo, and popo, that feature musicians like Toshihiro Koike, Masafumi Ezaki and Taku Unami, who may be better known for their experimental and improvised releases on labels like ftarri and Erstwhile. It also looks back to material recorded in the 1990s - the swinging slide guitars and sax/tuba duet of Strada’s “Swamp”, from 1998, and Compostela’s energetic, rousing “ghhgh”, from 1990. Both pieces were written by, and feature, saxophonist Kanji Nakao; Compostela’s membership also included late saxophonist Masami Shinoda, who was also part of such storied Japanese groups as Pungo, A-Musik, Orquestra Del Viento, Ché-SHIZU, and the fiery free jazz outfit, Seikatsu Kōjyō Iinkai.

Groups like Compostela help to draw some through-lines to the aesthetics of chindon’ya, a type of Japanese marching band made up of costumed street performers who advertise businesses; the music made by these bands is brash, spirited, and full of energy. Alien Parade Japan weaves all of this together – chindon’ya; jazz; indie-pop; psych-folk; big band – into one beautiful, big tapestry of gorgeous melody, sweetness, and melancholy, with plenty of creative fraying at its edges. “The collection is a very personal view of Japanese bands using brass and woodwind instruments,” Acher concludes: “it’s not a representative anthology, it’s mainly held together by my personal taste, experiences, and friendships.” But it’s also a wonderfully coherent collection of some of the most playful and elated music you’re likely to hear this year. As musician and writer David Grubbs says:

„Now it is confirmed: my favorite genre of music is Alien Parade Japan. Hopefully now people will know what I’m talking about when I gush about the unassailable brilliance of longtime favorites like Maher Shalal Hash Baz, Popo, Mitamurakandadan?, Hose, and Tenniscoats, presented here alongside others whose music I have only begun to search out. Please share in my gratitude and enjoyment of this lovingly assembled collection, one that I welcome into my home as I would a long-anticipated guest.“

Smokey Vinyl

Dynamic Reflection proudly presents a new vinyl release on their Limited Series (vinyl only) from a Saint Petersburg-based producer Aleksei Nikitin, better known as Nocow. In true Nocow's fashion, the album encapsulates an array of intertwined genres that goes beyond techno and results in a refreshing take on techno music.

Ambient drones, tribal undertones, UK garage influences and 90's aesthetics are among some of the impressions we've gotten from the project. On "ILES" he shows such a diverse spectrum of electronic music sub-genres is something that comes naturally for the artist, who is known for his versatility in music production. In the words of Nocow himself, this allows him to express his ideas to a higher degree of freedom.

The music on "ILES" serves as a language of subconscious that simultaneously brings out thoughtful reverie and the feeling of saudade. It is an emotional experience that connects the sense of nature's mysticism with the notion of human self, which allows for the listener's inner dialogue in a moment of reflection.

Nocow's music solidified him as a prominent artist within the contemporary techno scene and his new album is yet another proof of it. We are fascinated by the project and feel certain you will be mesmerized by the sonic world of "ILES" as well. We hope you enjoy this as much as we do.

Love,

Paul & Dave

Two years after the release of their last album "Wolves Among The Ashes", Svart Crown comes back with a sixth and new opus. The EP, called "Les Terres Brûlées" will be released as a coproduction between the band's label Nova Lux Production and Les Acteurs de l'Ombre Productions.

Just like a return to the basics, the five tracks that compose this EP form up a sulfuric halo between rage and transcendance. Recorded in several Southern France places and once again mixed by Francis Caste at Saint-Marthe studio, the organic, made for live production gives a suffocating warmth to the album's five pieces. Like a kind of epitaph, "Les Terres Brûlées" is a true abstract of
the band's 18 years of experience.

The first track to be revealed, "Digitalis Purpurea" is an astral journey through the inconscience limbo. A chaotic vision of its own death warrant, between dream and reality, where fire, opiates and sulfur smell coexist.

Évariste is one of the rare specimens of artist-cum-scientists. Among his kind stand others like Pierre Schaeffer, a Polytechnique graduate (an engineer but also the father of musique concrète) and the eccentric Boby Lapointe (graduate of the École centrale and inventor of the Bibi-binaire system, patented in 1968). Évariste's songwriting, joyful and full of energy (albeit extremely critical), shrouds an original tragedy: born in 1943 among résistants, Joël Sternheimer (aka Évariste) grew up without a father, lost to Auschwitz. Although he makes little reference to Jewish culture in his music, his origins leave their mark: in 1974, he sings a Hebrew song on television. In 1966, the young Joël sports Princeton's colourful paraphernalia - that's because he's freshly returning from the US, where he was sent to pursue his research on "particle mass and the interpretation of observed regularities, such as the effects of a wave" (will understand who may). When he gets there the country's in the midst of the Vietnam War. With McNamara keen to find an alternative to the nuclear weapon and calling upon the country's biggest brains to undertake the task, there's a "fund shift" within the university - a diplomatic way to give notice to whoever may not be disposed to follow the government's scheme. Joël, who's under the supervision of a rebellious physician, is dismissed. He regardless keeps following the prestigious seminaries of the Institute for Advanced Study, chaired by Oppenheimer, inventor of the atomic bomb. Likely inspired by the hippie movement and music, Joël buys a guitar and starts playing in Washington Square - after all, Bob Dylan himself started there. He blithely skips Oppenheimer and receives a warm (though surprised) welcome from a crowd thoroughly unfamiliar with French. When the ageing physicist questions him about his decreasing attendance, Joël explains how drawn he is to music, and how he thinks it could help him in self-financing his research. Évariste recalls seeing the sickened man, his face torn by remorse, lighten up to his words and say: "What's keeping you - go for it! If I was still young that's exactly what I'd do." The student takes these words as a testimony from his professor - and it's enough to convince him . And so he takes the leap during the Christmas vacations he spends in Paris. A journalist friend he often sees around the Sorbonne introduces him to the artistic director of Disques AZ. The latter passes the tapes on to the label's boss, Lucien Morisse, also program manager on Europe N°1. Morisse is blown away - and signs him onto the label right away. Michel Colombier, arranger for Serge Gainsbourg and co-author of "Psyché Rock", with Pierre Henry, contributes some of his original ideas to the 7 inch "E=mc2": Évariste's preoccupation with the percussion sound on the track "Le calcul intégral" is that it goes "poom poom" and not "tock tock" - Colombier is aware of the issue and records Évariste's guitar like a percussion in an isolated booth. The organist Eddy Louis, who is to participate, in 1969, to the success of Claude Nougaro's "Paris mai", also appears on the record. It's 1966 and the Antoine phenomenon (signed on Vogue) storms through France. The two singers share similarities: Antoine is an engineer of the École centrale, gifted with a great originality in his song-writing. A godsend for the two labels who turn this resemblance into a commercial strategy, setting them out as rivals. To this day though, Évariste still denies what was little more than slushy tabloïd gossip. Success comes around swiftly and in 1967 Évariste launches into a second 7 inch, "Wo I nee", again arranged by Michel Colombier. Quantum mechanics fans finally get their anthem with "La Chasse Au Boson Intermédiaire" (or the "Intermediary Boson Pursuit"). To sum up what's a boson, say he's a close pal of the meson, photon and other gluons. A few months later, it's May 68 and everything's turned upside down. Évariste writes a series of songs inspired by the events, which he immediately submits to Lucien Morisse. When the man behind "Salut les copains", once married to Dalida, hears the song "La révolution" - a father and son dialogue - he can't take any more: AZ simply cannot release this. But there and then Lucien Morisse makes a gesture which will remain engraved in French music's history: sorry to be unable to officially stand by the singer, he encourages him to self-produce the record, but with his tacit support. He calls the pressing factory and asks they apply the same rate for Évariste as they would for AZ. The singer and his musicians use the same studio as for the previous record, all of them playing for free awaiting a return on investment. Évariste keeps singing at the Sorbonne with "Jussieu's gang" and "the young Renaud" he nicknames "le p'tit gavroche" (or "street urchin"). Renaud volunteers to type the lyrics of the song "La révolution" so that the chorus can be sung and recorded. A boy in the group is related to Wolinski and introduces them. The two get along so well that Wolinski ends up drawing the cover for the record "La révolution", for free. The self-released 7 inch "La révolution / La faute à Nanterre" is sold under the table and door-to-door for half the price of a standard record, on and around the boulevard Saint-Michel; and it runs out fast. In the end, there will be 6 releases of the record, and 25000 copies sold. When the theatre director Claude Confortès decides to adapt Wolinski's drawing series titled "Je ne veux pas mourir idiot" ("I don't want to die a fool"), he asks Évariste to write the original soundtrack. His friend, now cartoonist for Hara-Kiri Hebdo, often promotes him in accordance with a principle dear to him by virtue of which he gives a special place to his friends. Dominique Grange (writer of the song "Nous sommes les nouveaux partisans") soon joins the team. After 150 performances, Évariste leaves his place to Dominique Maurin (brother of Patrick Dewaere). Évariste composes the songs for Claude Confortès' next play, "Je ne pense qu'à ça" ("That's all I think about"), co-wrote with Wolinski in 1969. The comedians of the play record the songs on a 7 inch, with a cover signed, again, by Wolinski. In 1971, French television produces the documentary "Évariste et les 7 dimensions", but doesn't air it. Indeed, the scientific sub-comity of the programming comity (sic) censors the show. The given justification is that "Évariste dangerously mixed science with science-fiction, numerology and other non-scientific disciplines". The underlying motive might have been a will to censor the singer-mathematician's political discourse. In the documentary and among other things, Évariste discusses hierarchy, alienation and revolution. Half a century later the documentary remains invisible, though some excerpts resurfaced in 1992 in the cult show "L'oeil du cyclone", on Canal +. Though flourishing, Évariste's career is nearing its end. 1970 is the beginning of a decade in the course of which he is to make a decisive discovery in the musical and scientific domains. Following this breakthrough, he moves away from self-produced music and gaucho magazines to focus on science. He keeps Oppenheimer's encouraging words in mind, now freely pursuing his research thanks to the sales of his records. Joël realises that when decoding protein sequences, one finds musical sequences recognisable to humans. He names them "proteodies". If, when listening to a proteody, one responds by being so sensitive as to finding it beautiful, then it reveals a deficiency of the related protein - and this peculiar music may be the cure. We could trace back the music history in light of proteins lacking in a given artist, or within a public's majority. You always thought these hysterical groupies who'd throw their underwear with passion and faint in the pit had miraculously appeared because they had never heard anything as wonderful as the Beatles? Make no mistake! For Évariste, it all boils down to an intro's protein content. Indeed, the beginning of their first hit "Love Me Do" corresponds to dopamine, the neurotransmitter linked to compulsive buying. An intro like this could only unleash the fervour of groupies, victims of fashion and biology. Évariste's success is such that the income from his sales gives him the autonomy to which he had aspired when confiding to Oppenheimer. It made it possible for him to pursue his research without any institutional constraints. He now devotes himself to his proteodies, sat in the offices of the European University for Research, just around the corner from the Sorbonne he knew so well. Évariste is no more. Joël regained control of this strange and comical beast.

Die britische Band Fellowship wird mit ihrem Debütalbum die Power-Metal-Szene mit eingängigen Melodien, rasanten Gitarren und lebensbejahender Lyrik aufmischen! “The Saberlight Chronicles" steht in der magischen Tradition von Twilight Force, Rhapsody und Majestica und hebt die Emotionen des Genres auf ein neues Niveau. “The Saberlight Chronicles" ist zu gleichen Teilen ein erzählerisches High-Fantasy-Konzeptalbum und eine gefühlvolle Sammlung von absoluten Knallern... zumindest sagen sie das so - sie sind schließlich Briten! Das Album greift das Thema psychische Gesundheit in einer Zeit auf, in der wir alle eine Aufmunterung brauchen, und erzählt eine mythische Geschichte über Selbstwert, Selbstfindung und die Suche nach Mut; Und dies alles in Songs, die so eingängig sind, dass man schon beim ersten Hören mitsingt. Metal hat sich noch nie so gut angefühlt!

“Rohkea rokan syö", or to loosely translate this Finnish saying: “Fortune Favours The Brave”. Truly, none have been braver than Blind Channel. Focusing intently on their mission to take their brand of infectiously ferocious nu-metal outside of Finland’s linguistic restrictions this bravery is engrained within. “It took me eight years to become an overnight success”, this line, buried away in Blind Channel’s fourth album Lifestyles Of The Sick & Dangerous is where their uncompromising journey finds its continuation. Furiously fighting their way into the worldwide mainstream, the six-piece have always been embracing their influences, from nu-metal iconoclasts to pop and hip-hop behemoths, it’s all a part of Blind Channel’s DNA. That’s the key to their draw, they’re only interested in sticking true to themselves while studiously searching for the keys to unlock the doors of success. Blind Channel knew that they had something to process. Not only the "modern-day misery” plaguing the world, as Joel puts it, but also proving that they could deliver more than the crowd-pleasing anthem of ‘Dark Side’. Lifestyles Of The Sick & Dangerous is a lashing, brutal, bravado and swagger filled, sincere depiction of their lives, backed by their trademark unforgiving “violent pop music”. As well as a winking homage to the Good Charlotte track Lifestyles of the Rich & Famous, it’s most importantly a righteous statement of intent. That this is only the beginning.

Repress incoming...

Far Out Recordings proudly presents Milton Nascimento's Maria Maria. Recorded in 1974 and unreleased until almost thirty years later, the album was written as the soundtrack to a ballet which dealt with the legacy of slavery in Brazil. Raw, atmospheric and emotionally charged, Maria Maria reveals one of Brazil's greatest ever songwriters at his creative peak. Featuring an all-star cast of fellow Brazilian legends including Nana Vasconcelos, Joao Donato, Paulinho Jobim, and members of Som Imaginario, Maria Maria holds what Milton considers to be the definitive versions of some of his classic songs, including 'Os Escravos De Jó' and 'Maria Maria'.

Originally released in 2003 as a double CD package, with Milton Nascimento's 1984 follow up ballet soundtrack Ultimo Trem, Maria Maria will be available on vinyl for the very first time from December 2019, with Ultimo Trem set for vinyl release early 2020.

Milton Nascimento possesses one of the most immediately recognizable voices in Brazilian music: high and sweet and as breathtakingly sublime as that of any soul singer. It was this voice that the legendary Brazilian singer Elis Regina fell in love with back in 1964, having heard Milton perform his song 'Canção do Sal (Sultry Song)' at a private party in Sao Paulo. Ellis went on to record the song in 1967 -giving Milton his first hit in Brazil and beginning a career that has spanned over 50 years.

Born in Rio on the 26th October 1942, Milton moved with his adoptive parents at the age of 18 months to Tres Pontas, a rural town in the state of Minas Gerais, 500 miles north of Rio. He began his musical career as a young teenager, singing in a crooner style he learnt from listening to Brazilian singers and US groups such as The Platters on the radio. Hungry for more opportunities to perform, Milton moved to Belo Horizonte, the capital of Minas Gerais, at the age of twenty. By the beginning of the 60s Milton had made a name for himself both as an accomplished singer and guitarist.

Milton became part of a local network of musicians, film makers, dancers, theatre directors and writers that included the journalist and song writer Fernando Brant as well as lyricist Marcio Borges and his younger brother Lo Borges. Together these four wrote and produced what would become Milton's milestone album, 'Clube da Esquina (Club on the Corner)'. The originality of 'Club da Esquina' shaped the local scene, and it reflects the essence of 'the Nascimento Sound'. Milton's religious upbringing as an Afro-Brazilian Catholic saw him exposed to church choral music from an early age. His love of this genre of music is apparent in both his celestial falsetto and vocal choral arrangements. This collection also displays his early fascination with evocative, non-verbal, scat-style singing, spare, harmonic guitar work and local folk music, jazz and rock.

In 1976, Milton and Fernando Brant teamed up with a new contemporary dance company called Grupo Corpo, whose Argentinian choreographer Oscar Araiz, would become a collaborator with the two musicians. Together, they conceived a show based on the composite life story of the daughter of a black slave called Maria. Nascimento wrote music to Brant's lyrics and "Maria Maria" was premiered in the main theatre of the Belo Horizonte Palacio das Artes that year. "Fernando wrote the lyrics for the ballet, but there were originally no lyrics for the theme song, "Maria Maria'". Milton and Fernando worked on the lyrics together, basing them on folk stories about black women of the countryside. Adds Milton "These memories are mostly things that we witnessed – Fernando and I – rather than what we experienced ourselves.

Milton's music is impressionistic, emotional and romantic. Relying on songs without lyrics as well as evocative vocalizing and choruses, Milton experimented heavily with Afro-Brazilian percussion and taped jungle sounds. His composing method for these recordings was highly unconventional: "I wrote the music for 'Maria Maria' in a tiny Rio apartment with friends and their kids running around and having fun! I love to be in noisy places, surrounded by people", he says.
The music on 'Maria Maria' was performed by an impressive group of young musicians who are today household names in Brazilian music, including Naná Vasconcelos (percussion and effects), Toninho Horta (guitars) and Paulo Moura (sax). Several vocalist including Naná Caymmi, Fafá de Belém, Beto Guedes, and Milton himself, had hits in years to come with reworkings of these songs.

Milton says his compositions follow his visions "like a movie", and he believes that reflects his long love affair with cinema. "I only began composing because of enjoying the movies so much," he says. "I wrote my first song "Peace for the Coming Love" after seeing 'Jules et Jim' (the cult 60s French film directed by François Truffaut), with my friend Marcio Borges. We went early in the morning and watched it four or five times in a row, then went to Márcio's home and wrote the song."

The songs also include solo spoken passages set to music, clearly influenced by this style of French art cinema. On the title track, Maria's story is narrated and translated to music through the use of African Percussion, drums and metal signifying the field slave tools of the day. 'Trabalhos (Works)' runs to work rhythms and whipcracks: no words, just pain. 'Lília' documents the beating of the slave woman. After 'A Chamada (The call)' and the triumphant 'Era Rei e Sou Escravo (I was a king now I am a slave' things begin to turn and Milton employs tropical jungle cries to symbolize freedom. 'Santos Catholicos x Candomble (Catholic Saints vs Candomble)' represents the battle between African and European religions through the music of both sides. Milton's heavenly falsetto pours into 'Francisco' and 'Pai Grande (Great Father)' and the outstanding 'Eu Sou Uma Preta Velha Aqui Sentada no Sol (I'm an old black lady, sitting under the sun)' conjures images of an old woman sitting deep in the forest, her memories painted in drums, piano and voices.

Unstoppable elders of the L'Entourloop collective, King James and Sir Johnny, are proud to present on June 10, 2022 their long-awaited third and new album entitled "Clarity in Confusion". Featuring Alborosie, Promoe, Degiheugi, General Levy, The Architect ...

It is now official, 2022 will mark the return of the tireless seniors of the collective L'ENTOURLOOP! After a break to devote themselves to the creation of a new album and a new live show that promises to be exceptional, they are back on the road, more determined than ever!
The success of their last albums "Chickens in Your Town" (2015) and "Le Savoir-Faire" (2017), with their unique "Banging hip-hop inna Yardie Style" never cease to seduce sound-system, vinyl and French classics fans, all over the world.

Libreville Records presents Totāl Cuevas, a seminal compilation album of legendary DJ Guy Cuevas's own music.

Guy Cuevas is a French-Cuban writer, musician, and DJ, pioneer of the art of modern DJing.
A key figure on the Paris night scene, Guy Cuevas gained a cult status as the resident DJ of the mythical nightclub Le Palace, gathering thousands of people every night under his booth, shepherding them with his music towards euphoria. He also collaborated with a great number of Fashion brands, such as Yves Saint Laurent, Kenzo, Dior, Hermès and many more.

In the early 80s, Guy Cuevas released a handful of records, channeling his hedonism and natural grandeur into his sound, creating a unique music of his own.
Totāl Cuevas brings together music from his three singles Ebony Game (1981), Obsession (1982), and Gallo Negro (1984), and includes previously unreleased alternate mixes.
Guy Cuevas’s most iconic output, "Obsession - The Nassau Mix" (mixed by François K) gets a fresh new reboot with "Obsession - The Paris Version".

Remastered from the master tapes.

Die mehrfach mit Platin ausgezeichnete Rockband SEETHER veröffentlicht die Deluxe Version ihres achten Studioalbums ”Si Vis Pacem, Para Bellum”, übersetzt ”If You Want Peace, Prepare For War”, eine Mischung aus Euphorie und Elend, zweifellos die wohl stärksten Songs in SEETHERs illustrer Karriere.

”Si Vis Pacem, Para Bellum” wurde von ihrem Sänger Shaun Morgan produziert und von Matt Hyde (Deftones, AFI) in Nashville abgemischt. Das neueste Mitglied der Band, Corey Lowery (Ex-Gitarrist/Sänger
von Saint Ansonia und Stuck Mojo), ein langjähriger Freund von Morgan, ist auf dem Album zu hören.

”Corey has a lot of experience and is an inspiring guitarist as well; he’s the older brother I’ve always wanted”, fügte Morgan hinzu. SEETHER besteht aus dem Bassisten und Gründungsmitglied Dale Stewart und dem Schlagzeuger John Humphrey.

Das Push-Pull-Gefühl auf ”Si Vis Pacem, Para Bellum” ist ebenso dynamisch wie einprägsam, da Morgan die intime Sensibilität eines Singer-Songwriters in schwere Rockgrooves der Band einbringt. Mit Einflüssen wie der dunklen und rohen Ehrlichkeit von Grunges epischer Gitarrenattacke und dem südafrikanischen Underground-Punk und Metal, ist SEETHER’s klangliches Gebräu unverwechselbar und zeitlos.

Scared to Dance, the debut LP from Scotland's Skids, will be re-issued by
Last Night From Glasgow
In addition to featuring a remastered version of the original album a second LP of
bonus tracks will be included making this the definitive vinyl version of Scotland's
definitive punk album.This record may have been recorded over 40 years ago but
the songs resonate as much, if not more, today.
Featuring the glorious "Into The Valley" and "The Saints Are Coming"

"The album features the two sides of Mingus' compositional genius: the beautiful balladry that I always feel has a bit of a film-noir feel to it, alongside those joyous upbeat numbers that are filled with an organized chaos that categorizes much of the bassist's best work. ... Throw in the fact that it also features Jaki Byard (who is just phenomenal on this recording and remains criminally underrated), Booker Ervin, Dannie Richmond and Eric Dolphy and you have some of Mingus' finest sidemen driving his compositions to the fantastical places they seemed preordained to go. ... Mingus, Mingus, Mingus, Mingus, Mingus is a record that has more than stood the test of time and is an everlasting testament to the talents of Mingus and the players who had the ability to follow his musical vision." — The Jazz Record

Mingus, Mingus, Mingus, Mingus, Mingus was Charles Mingus' last major studio recording of the 1960s (the solo Mingus Plays Piano would also be released the same year in 1964) and it's a real treasure in the great jazz bassist's discography

Two of the tracks ("Celia" and "I X Love") were recorded at the sessions for The Black Saint And The Sinner Lady, while the rest were laid down eight months later with a group that included Booker Ervin, Eric Dolphy and Jaki Byard (Byard also played on the two earlier tracks). Both sessions featured groups of 11 players, all of whom were in top form in performing Mingus' notoriously complex compositions, writes jazzrecord.

All but two tracks on Mingus, Mingus, Mingus, Mingus, Mingus were re-interpretations of songs from the bassist's earlier catalogue, only "Celia" rates as a new original number, and "Mood Indigo" is a cover of the famous tune by Mingus's hero Duke Ellington. If you happen to have lost your Mingus decoder ring, the remaining tracks correlate to their past counterparts as such:


For Mingus, Mingus, Mingus, Mingus, Mingus Mingus collaborated with arranger/orchestrator Bob Hammer to score the music for the large ensemble of brass and saxophones. Recorded January 20 and September 20, 1963 in New York City.

White Vinyl

This is the third all-solo outing from Nat Birchall, following on from last year’s very well received Ancient Africa.

Once again Nat plays all the instruments in this homage to the patron saint of the tenor saxophone, John Coltrane.

Afro Trane presents a balanced programme of Coltrane songs and original compositions which focus on the more Afro-centric aspects of the music,

included are the classic Coltrane compositions Acknowledgement from A Love Supreme, India from the Impressions album and Dahomey Dance from Ole.

3 x 140 Grs Black Vinyl.

Triple Gatefold Sleeve (Trifold) with deluxe reflective silver board with new linear notes by Tim Barr

SHORT INFORMATION/ SHORT BIOG
The 25th Year Anniversary of Goldie’s cult album “Timeless” is back on Vinyl.

Limted deluxe 3 x Black LP edition.

Without a brutal evaluation of their own becoming, TV Priest might have never made their second album. Heralded as the next big thing in post-punk, they were established as a bolshy, sharp-witted outfit, the kind that starts movements with their political ire. There was of course truth in that, but it was a suit that quickly felt heavy on its wearer's shoulders, leaving little room for true vulnerability. "A lot of it did feel like I was being really careful and a bit at arm's length," says vocalist Charlie Drinkwater. "I think maybe I was not fully aware of the role I was taking. I had to take a step back and realize that what we were presenting was quite far away from the opinion of myself that I had. Now, I just want to be honest." Having made music together since their teenage years, the London four-piece piqued press attention in late 2019 with their first gig as a newly solidified group, a raucous outing in the warehouse district of Hackney Wick. Debut single "House of York" followed with a blistering critique of monarchist patriotism, and they were signed to Sub Pop for their debut album. When Uppers arrived in the height of a global pandemic, it reaped praise from critics and fans alike for its "dystopian doublespeak," but the band - Drinkwater, guitarist Alex Sprogis, producer, bass and keys player Nic Bueth and drummer Ed Kelland - were at home like the rest of us, drinking cups of tea and marking time via government-sanctioned daily exercise. As such, the personal and professional landmark of its release felt "both colossal and minuscule" dampened by the inability to share it live. "It was a real gratification and really cathartic, but on the other hand, it was really strange, and not great for my mental health" admits Drinkwater. "I wasn't prepared, and I hadn't necessarily expected it to reach as many people as it did." As such, My Other People maintains a strong sense of earth-rooted emotion, taking advantage of the opportunity to physically connect. Using "Saintless" (the closing song from Uppers) as something of a starting point, Drinkwater set about crafting lyrics that allowed him to articulate a deeper sense of personal truth, using music as a vessel to communicate with his bandmates about his depleting mental health. "Speaking very candidly, it was written at a time and a place where I was not, I would say, particularly well," he says. "There was a lot of things that had happened to myself and my family that were quite troubling moments.Despite that I do think the record has our most hopeful moments too; a lot of me trying to set myself reminders for living, just everyday sentiments to try and get myself out of the space I was in." "It was a bit of a moment for all of us where we realised that we can make something that, to us at least, feels truly beautiful," agrees Bueth. "Brutality and frustration are only a part of that puzzle, and despite a lot of us feeling quite disconnected at the time, overwhelmingly beautiful things were also still happening." This tension between existential fear born from the constant uncertainties of life, and an affirmative, cathartic urge to seize the moment, is central to My Other People, a record that heals by providing space for recognition, a ground zero in which you're welcome to stay awhile but which ultimately only leads up and out. For TV Priest, it is a follow-up that feels truly, properly them; free of bravado, unnecessary bluster or any audience pressure to commit solely to their original sound.

Without a brutal evaluation of their own becoming, TV Priest might have never made their second album. Heralded as the next big thing in post-punk, they were established as a bolshy, sharp-witted outfit, the kind that starts movements with their political ire. There was of course truth in that, but it was a suit that quickly felt heavy on its wearer's shoulders, leaving little room for true vulnerability. "A lot of it did feel like I was being really careful and a bit at arm's length," says vocalist Charlie Drinkwater. "I think maybe I was not fully aware of the role I was taking. I had to take a step back and realize that what we were presenting was quite far away from the opinion of myself that I had. Now, I just want to be honest." Having made music together since their teenage years, the London four-piece piqued press attention in late 2019 with their first gig as a newly solidified group, a raucous outing in the warehouse district of Hackney Wick. Debut single "House of York" followed with a blistering critique of monarchist patriotism, and they were signed to Sub Pop for their debut album. When Uppers arrived in the height of a global pandemic, it reaped praise from critics and fans alike for its "dystopian doublespeak," but the band - Drinkwater, guitarist Alex Sprogis, producer, bass and keys player Nic Bueth and drummer Ed Kelland - were at home like the rest of us, drinking cups of tea and marking time via government-sanctioned daily exercise. As such, the personal and professional landmark of its release felt "both colossal and minuscule" dampened by the inability to share it live. "It was a real gratification and really cathartic, but on the other hand, it was really strange, and not great for my mental health" admits Drinkwater. "I wasn't prepared, and I hadn't necessarily expected it to reach as many people as it did." As such, My Other People maintains a strong sense of earth-rooted emotion, taking advantage of the opportunity to physically connect. Using "Saintless" (the closing song from Uppers) as something of a starting point, Drinkwater set about crafting lyrics that allowed him to articulate a deeper sense of personal truth, using music as a vessel to communicate with his bandmates about his depleting mental health. "Speaking very candidly, it was written at a time and a place where I was not, I would say, particularly well," he says. "There was a lot of things that had happened to myself and my family that were quite troubling moments.Despite that I do think the record has our most hopeful moments too; a lot of me trying to set myself reminders for living, just everyday sentiments to try and get myself out of the space I was in." "It was a bit of a moment for all of us where we realised that we can make something that, to us at least, feels truly beautiful," agrees Bueth. "Brutality and frustration are only a part of that puzzle, and despite a lot of us feeling quite disconnected at the time, overwhelmingly beautiful things were also still happening." This tension between existential fear born from the constant uncertainties of life, and an affirmative, cathartic urge to seize the moment, is central to My Other People, a record that heals by providing space for recognition, a ground zero in which you're welcome to stay awhile but which ultimately only leads up and out. For TV Priest, it is a follow-up that feels truly, properly them; free of bravado, unnecessary bluster or any audience pressure to commit solely to their original sound.

Second Sub Pop album by acclaimed UK act TV Priest finds them building on the
post-punk of their early material and maturing into a powerhouse of tense, politically
caustic, and thoughtful rock music.
Without a brutal evaluation of their own becoming, TV Priest might have never made
their second album. Heralded as the next big thing in post-punk, they were
established as a bolshy, sharp-witted outfit, the kind that starts movements with their
political ire. There was of course truth in that, but it was a suit that quickly felt heavy
on its wearer’s shoulders, leaving little room for true vulnerability. “A lot of it did feel
like I was being really careful and a bit at arm's length,” says vocalist Charlie
Drinkwater. “I think maybe I was not fully aware of the role I was taking. I had to take
a step back and realize that what we were presenting was quite far away from the
opinion of myself that I had. Now, I just want to be honest.”
Having made music together since their teenage years, the London four-piece piqued
press attention in late 2019 with their first gig as a newly solidified group, a raucous
outing in the warehouse district of Hackney Wick. Debut single ‘House of York’
followed with a blistering critique of monarchist patriotism, and they were signed to
Sub Pop for their debut album. When ‘Uppers’ arrived in the height of a global
pandemic, it reaped praise from critics and fans alike for its “dystopian doublespeak,”
but the band - Drinkwater, guitarist Alex Sprogis, producer, bass and keys player Nic
Bueth and drummer Ed Kelland - were at home like the rest of us, drinking cups of
tea and marking time via government-sanctioned daily exercise. As such, the
personal and professional landmark of its release felt “both colossal and minuscule”
dampened by the inability to share it live. “It was a real gratification and really
cathartic, but on the other hand, it was really strange, and not great for my mental
health,” admits Drinkwater. “I wasn’t prepared, and I hadn’t necessarily expected it to
reach as many people as it did.”
As such, ‘My Other People’ maintains a strong sense of earth-rooted emotion, taking
advantage of the opportunity to physically connect. Using ‘Saintless’ (the closing
song from ‘Uppers’) as something of a starting point, Drinkwater set about crafting
lyrics that allowed him to articulate a deeper sense of personal truth, using music as
a vessel to communicate with his bandmates about his depleting mental health.
“Speaking very candidly, it was written at a time and a place where I was not, I would
say, particularly well,” he says. “There was a lot of things that had happened to
myself and my family that were quite troubling moments. Despite that I do think the
record has our most hopeful moments too; a lot of me trying to set myself reminders
for living, just everyday sentiments to try and get myself out of the space I was in.”
“It was a bit of a moment for all of us where we realised that we can make something
that, to us at least, feels truly beautiful,” agrees Bueth. “Brutality and frustration are
only a part of that puzzle, and despite a lot of us feeling quite disconnected at the
time, overwhelmingly beautiful things were also still happening.”
This tension between existential fear born from the constant uncertainties of life, and
an affirmative, cathartic urge to seize the moment, is central to ‘My Other People’, a
record that heals by providing space for recognition, a ground zero in which you’re
welcome to stay awhile but which ultimately only leads up and out. For TV Priest, it is
a follow-up that feels truly, properly them; free of bravado, unnecessary bluster or
any audience pressure to commit solely to their original sound.

"bit by bit" is the first full-length release from Toronto-based singer-songwriter Evan J Cartwright. This self produced album from the go-to drummer/collaborator (The Weather Station, U.S. Girls, Brodie West) presents a highly singular songwriting vision that combines existential lyrics with masterful musicianship. Steeped in jazz melodicism, Cartwright’s trumpet-like phrasing mixed with contemporary composition presents an eclectic art song performed by an artist that could perhaps be best described as a post-modern Chet Baker. Deep poetic observations on love and time paint an affecting picture of an artist reflecting on life’s universal truths. Visual in nature, "bit by bit" places its audience within a world of musical leitmotifs extracted from field recordings of bells and birdsong. Collected during years of touring, these sounds evoke extant spaces beyond that which the music inhabits. The use of this source material in its unaltered form evokes the feeling of a technicolour European film at one moment and then, as the extrapolated melodies are meticulously translated into electronic tone bank sequences, a modernist setting the next. One carillon melody is used as the basis for a wealth of the album’s musical material before its origin is finally revealed by the chiming of bells in the last seconds of the album. The result is a fragment of space between the constructed world of the musical compositions and the candid world of documentation, inviting the listener to ponder whether those two worlds are distinct or whether the songs and music are not simply “field recordings” themselves. Throughout "bit by bit" Cartwright drops staggering revelations hiding in plain prose that often involve the contemplation of time. In I Don’t Know he states “if I only trusted time / then I would wish it all away” and nearing the album’s end he opens impossibly blue with the phrase “the impossible truth of time”, playfully inserting a pregnant pause before the word time. A drummer’s fixation, to be certain, the album’s recurring theme of time is eclipsed only by Cartwright’s contemplation of human relationships. Here he elaborates on some of the album’s subjects: “Many of the lyrics circle, and try to give a name to the illegible space between human beings. “i DON’t know” celebrates the fact that we will never truly understand what love is. Its message is one of assurance. It says that we can never really touch love, and that is ok. “and you’ve got nobuddy” refers to life’s great tragedy: that we are unable to read each others’ experiences, and in reaction to this, we separate ourselves.” The entirety of "bit by bit" is a continuous work. There is seldom a clear demarcation of where one piece ends and another begins and when this does occur, it is done crudely, as if someone is flipping through a series of broadcasted channels. At times words are sliced right out of their lines and replaced by pure tones. This is both a comical interpretation of censorship and a reminder that there are things in life that will forever remain unseen and illegible. In fact, this statement lies at the centre of the LP and although hidden beauty does reveal itself through repeated listenings, "bit by bit’s" eccentric world remains just out of reach — an imaginary second story room viewed from a crowded city street.

Solo bedroom-pop project of Michael Ramos (Flowertown, April Magazine, Hectorine). Mostly recorded between last Christmas and New Year's during a window of isolation at home, “Hey There Flower” preserves Tony Jay’s prowess at making beautifully eerie lo-fi pop; like a hazy memory where your favorite Sixties girl-group melody is perpetually slowed down. Without a band to practice with, Tony Jay recorded the music alone, but recruited a slew of friends to remotely record backing vocals: Karina Gill (Cindy), Griffin Jones (Galore), Kati Mashikian (Mister Baby), Alexis Harper (Al Harper), & Hannah Lew (Cold Beat). "Hey There Flower", the most recent release from the prolific and mysterious Tony Jay delivers real melodies -- both lacey with vocal harmonies and dusty with layered guitars -- as fans have come to expect. This release also carries forward and elaborates on Tony Jay's tradition of songs that express a kind of naked honesty about things we all know -- love and loneliness and all that -- while communicating at the same time a wry edge of skepticism, so that the songs are like coins spinning on edge before landing heads, tails, or lost under the couch. Tony Jay brings us into a nostalgia where we recognize moods from music of the past -- Marc Boland definitely comes to mind, as well as Velvet Underground of the Nico era, and Tony Jay even covers Francoise Hardy on this collection -- but the songs create a three dimensional space with what feels like a thousand layers so that instead of being thrown back in time, it's like stepping into a little world with its own laws of nature, of which the listener gets just a few hints. - Karina Gill, Cindy/Flowertown. “Hey There Flower” is introduced by thudding snare beats eliciting reverb-stained tattered noisy guitar scrapes, to weave abrasive shimmery emotive vibrations, imbued with shattered nostalgic dreams, lit by brittle yet dazzling forsaken keyboard flows, over submerged and distorted male vocal’s whispery deluge of obsessive longing, lonely melancholy, and dark desire to exude a hazy gritty concoction of awkward sadness and brooding unrest.” White Light // White Heat // “What Tony sketches are concise commentaries on love, loneliness and a few things in between. His mode of expression is sparse, intense, and captivating. The arrangements are invariably lo-fi and slow tempo, blanketed with a fuzzy hiss. And it only took one listen to decide that it is a very special album. It has a '60s feel, albeit washed in an eerie slowcore machine. An ace example is "September Skies", which could be the 1965 'last dance' at the prom for the introverted students.” - When You Motor Away