Buscar:sam k

As the sun sets on a quaint East Nashville house, a young man bares a piece of his soul. Facing the camera, sporting a silky suit jacket/shirt/slacks/fingerless gloves ensemble that announces "singer" before he's even opened his mouth, Lee Tracy Johnson settles onto his stage, the front yard. He sways to the dirge-like drum machine pulse of a synth-soaked slow jam, extends his arms as if gaining his balance, and croons in affecting, fragile earnest, "I need your love… oh baby…"

Dogs in the yard next door begin barking. A mysterious cardboard robot figure, beamed in from galaxies unknown and affixed to a tree, is less vocal. Lee doesn't acknowledge either's presence. He's busy feeling it, arms and hands gesticulating. His voice rises in falsetto over the now-quiet dogs, over the ambient noise from the street that seeps into the handheld camcorder's microphone, over the recording of his own voice played back from a boombox off-camera. After six minutes the single, continuous shot ends. In this intimate creative universe there are no re-takes. There are many more music videos to shoot, and as Lee later puts it, "The first time you do it is actually the best. Because you can never get that again. You expressing yourself from within."

"I Need Your Love" dates from a lost heyday. From some time in the '80s or early '90s, when Lee Tracy (as he was known in performance) and his music partner/producer/manager Isaac Manning committed hours upon hours of their sonic and visual ideas to tape. Embracing drum machines and synthesizers – electronics that made their personal futurism palpable – they recorded exclusively at home, live in a room into a simple cassette deck. Soul, funk, electro and new wave informed their songs, yet Lee and Isaac eschewed the confinement of conventional categories and genres, preferring to let experimentation guide them.

"Anytime somebody put out a new record they had the same instruments or the same sound," explains Isaac. "So I basically wanted to find something that's really gonna stand out away from all of the rest of 'em." Their ethos meant that every idea they came up with was at least worth trying: echoed out half-rapped exhortations over frantic techno-style beats, gospel synth soul, modal electro-funk, oddball pop reinterpretations, emo AOR balladry, nods to Prince and the Fat Boys, or arrangements that might collapse mid-song into a mess of arcade game-ish blips before rallying to reach the finish line. All of it conjoined by consistent tape hiss, and most vitally, Lee's chameleonic voice, which managed to wildly shape shift and still evoke something sincere – whether toggling between falsetto and tenor exalting Jesus's return, or punctuating a melismatic romantic adlib with a succinct, "We all know how it feels to be alone."

"People think we went to a studio," says Isaac derisively. "We never went to no studio. We didn't have the money to go to no studio! We did this stuff at home. I shot videos in my front yard with whatever we could to get things together." Sometimes Isaac would just put on an instrumental record, be it "Planet Rock" or "Don't Cry For Me Argentina" (from Evita), press "record," and let Lee improvise over it, yielding peculiar love songs, would-be patriotic anthems, or Elvis Presley or Marilyn Monroe tributes. Technical limitations and a lack of professional polish never dissuaded them. They believed they were onto something.

"That struggle," Isaac says, "made that sound sound good to me."

In the parlance of modern music criticism Lee and Isaac's dizzying DIY efforts would inevitably be described as "outsider." But "outsider" carries the burden of untold additional layers of meaning if you're Black and from the South, creating on a budget, and trying to get someone, anyone within the country music capital of the world to take your vision seriously. "What category should we put it in?" Isaac asks rhetorically. "I don't know. All I know is feeling. I ain't gonna name it nothing. It's music. If it grabs your soul and touch your heart that's what it basically is supposed to do."

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Born in 1963, the baby boy of nine siblings, Lee Tracy spent his earliest years living amidst the shotgun houses on Nashville's south side. "We was poor, man!" he says, recalling the outhouse his family used for a bathroom and the blocks of ice they kept in the kitchen to chill perishables. "But I actually don't think I really realized I was in poverty until I got grown and started thinking about it." Lee's mom worked at the Holiday Inn; his dad did whatever he had to do, from selling fruit from a horse drawn cart to bootlegging. "We didn't have much," Lee continues, "but my mother and my father got us the things we needed, the clothes on our back." By the end of the decade with the city's urban renewal programs razing entire neighborhoods to accommodate construction of the Interstate, the family moved to Edgehill Projects. Lee remembers music and art as a constant source of inspiration for he and his brothers and sisters – especially after seeing the Jackson 5 perform on Ed Sullivan. "As a small child I just knew that was what I wanted to do."

His older brother Don began musically mentoring him, introducing Lee to a variety of instruments and sounds. "He would never play one particular type of music, like R&B," says Lee. "I was surrounded by jazz, hard rock and roll, easy listening, gospel, reggae, country music; I mean I was a sponge absorbing all of that." Lee taught himself to play drums by beating on cardboard boxes, gaining a rep around the way for his timekeeping, and his singing voice. Emulating his favorites, Earth Wind & Fire and Cameo, he formed groups with other kids with era-evocative band names like Concept and TNT Connection, and emerged as the leader of disciplined rehearsals. "I made them practice," says Lee. "We practiced and practiced and practiced. Because I wanted that perfection." By high school the most accomplished of these bands would take top prize in a prominent local talent show. It was a big moment for Lee, and he felt ready to take things to the next level. But his band-mates had other ideas.

"I don't know what happened," he says, still miffed at the memory. "It must have blew they mind after we won and people started showing notice, because it's like everybody quit! I was like, where the hell did everybody go?" Lee had always made a point of interrogating prospective musicians about their intentions before joining his groups: were they really serious or just looking for a way to pick up girls? Now he understood even more the importance of finding a collaborator just as committed to the music as he was.

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Isaac Manning had spent much of his life immersed in music and the arts – singing in the church choir with his family on Nashville's north side, writing, painting, dancing, and working various gigs within the entertainment industry. After serving in the armed forces, in the early '70s he ran The Teenage Place, a music and performance venue that catered to the local youth. But he was forced out of town when word of one of his recreational routines created a stir beyond the safe haven of his bohemian circles.

"I was growing marijuana," Isaac explains. "It wasn't no business, I was smoking it myself… I would put marijuana in scrambled eggs, cornbread and stuff." His weed use originated as a form of self-medication to combat severe tooth pain. But when he began sharing it with some of the other young people he hung out with, some of who just so happened to be the kids of Nashville politicians, the cops came calling. "When I got busted," he remembers, "they were talking about how they were gonna get rid of me because they didn't want me saying nothing about they children because of the politics and stuff. So I got my family, took two raggedy cars, and left Nashville and went to Vegas."

Out in the desert, Isaac happened to meet Chubby Checker of "The Twist" fame while the singer was gigging at The Flamingo. Impressed by Isaac's zeal, Checker invited him to go on the road with him as his tour manager/roadie/valet. The experience gave Isaac a window into a part of the entertainment world he'd never encountered – a glimpse of what a true pop act's audience looked like. "Chubby Checker, none of his shows were played for Black folks," he remembers. "All his gigs were done at high-class white people areas." Returning home after a few years with Chubby, Isaac was properly motivated to make it in Music City. He began writing songs and scouting around Nashville for local talent anywhere he could find it with an expressed goal: "Find someone who can deliver your songs the way you want 'em delivered and make people feel what you want them to feel."

One day while walking through Edgehill Projects Isaac heard someone playing the drums in a way that made him stop and take notice. "The music was so tight, just the drums made me feel like, oh I'm-a find this person," he recalls. "So I circled through the projects until I found who it was.

"That's how I met him – Lee Tracy. When I found him and he started singing and stuff, I said, ohhh, this is somebody different."

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Theirs was a true complementary partnership: young Lee possessed the raw talent, the older Isaac the belief. "He's really the only one besides my brother and my family that really seen the potential in me," says Lee. "He made me see that I could do it."

Isaac long being a night owl, his house also made for a fertile collaborative environment – a space where there always seemed to be a new piece of his visual art on display: paintings, illustrations, and dolls and figures (including an enigmatic cardboard robot). Lee and Issac would hang out together and talk, listen to music, conjure ideas, and smoke the herb Isaac had resumed growing in his yard. "It got to where I could trust him, he could trust me," Isaac says of their bond. They also worked together for hours on drawings, spreading larges rolls of paper on the walls and sketching faces with abstract patterns and imagery: alien-like beings, tri-horned horse heads, inverted Janus-like characters where one visage blurred into the other.

Soon it became apparent that they didn't need other collaborators; self-sufficiency was the natural way forward. At Isaac's behest Lee, already fed up with dealing with band musicians, began playing around with a poly-sonic Yamaha keyboard at the local music store. "It had everything on it – trumpet, bass, drums, organ," remembers Lee. "And that's when I started recording my own stuff."

The technology afforded Lee the flexibility and independence he craved, setting him on a path other bedroom musicians and producers around the world were simultaneously following through the '80s into the early '90s. Saving up money from day jobs, he eventually supplemented the Yamaha Isaac had gotten him with Roland and Casio drum machines and a Moog. Lee was living in an apartment in Hillside at that point caring for his dad, who'd been partially paralyzed since early in life. In the evenings up in his second floor room, the music put him in a zone where he could tune out everything and lose himself in his ideas.

"Oh I loved it," he recalls. "I would really experiment with the instruments and use a lot of different sound effects. I was looking for something nobody else had. I wanted something totally different. And once I found the sound I was looking for, I would just smoke me a good joint and just let it go, hit the record button." More potent a creative stimulant than even Isaac's weed was the holistic flow and spontaneity of recording. Between sessions at Isaac's place and Lee's apartment, their volume of output quickly ballooned.

"We was always recording," says Lee. "That's why we have so much music. Even when I went to Isaac's and we start creating, I get home, my mind is racing, I gotta start creating, creating, creating. I remember there were times when I took a 90-minute tape from front to back and just filled it up."

"We never practiced," says Isaac. "See, that was just so odd about the whole thing. I could relate to him, and tell him about the songs I had ideas for and everything and stuff. And then he would bring it back or whatever, and we'd get together and put it down." Once the taskmaster hell bent on rehearsing, Lee had flipped a full 180. Perfection was no longer an aspiration, but the enemy of inspiration.

"I seen where practicing and practicing got me," says Lee. "A lot of musicians you get to playing and they gotta stop, they have to analyze the music. But while you analyzing you losing a lot of the greatness of what you creating. Stop analyzing what you play, just play! And it'll all take shape."

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"I hope you understood the beginning of the record because this was invented from a dream I had today… (You tell me, I'll tell you, we'll figure it out together)" – Lee Tracy and Isaac Manning, "Hope You Understand"

Lee lets loose a maniacal cackle when he acknowledges that the material that he and Isaac recorded was by anyone's estimation pretty out there. It's the same laugh that commences "Hope You Understand" – a chaotic transmission that encapsulates the duality at the heart of their music: a stated desire to reach people and a compulsion to go as leftfield as they saw fit.

"We just did it," says Lee. "We cut the music on and cut loose. I don't sit around and write. I do it by listening, get a feeling, play the music, and the lyrics and stuff just come out of me."

The approach proved adaptable to interpreting other artists' material. While recording a cover of Whitney Houston's pop ballad "Saving All My Love For You," Lee played Whitney's version in his headphones as he laid down his own vocals – partially following the lyrics, partially using them as a departure point. The end result is barely recognizable compared with the original, Lee and Isaac having switched up the time signature and reinvented the melody along the way towards morphing a slick mainstream radio standard into something that sounds solely their own.

"I really used that song to get me started," says Lee. "Then I said, well I need something else, something is missing. Something just came over me. That's when I came up with 'Is It What You Want.'"

The song would become the centerpiece of Lee and Isaac's repertoire. Pushed along by a percolating metronomic Rhythm King style beat somewhere between a military march and a samba, "Is It What You Want" finds Lee pleading the sincerity of his commitment to a potential love interest embellished by vocal tics and hiccups subtlely reminiscent of his childhood hero MJ. Absent chord changes, only synth riffs gliding in and out like apparitions, the song achieves a lingering lo-fi power that leaves you feeling like it's still playing, somewhere, even after the fade out.

"I don't know, it's like a real spiritual song," Lee reflects. "But it's not just spiritual. To me the more I listen to it it's like about everything that you do in your everyday life, period. Is it what you want? Do you want a car or you don't want a car? Do you want Jesus or do you want the Devil? It's basically asking you the question. Can't nobody answer the question but you yourself."

In 1989 Lee won a lawsuit stemming from injuries sustained from a fight he'd gotten into. He took part of the settlement money and with Isaac pressed up "Saving All My Love For You" b/w "Is It What You Want" as a 45 single. Isaac christened the label One Chance Records. "Because that's all we wanted," he says with a laugh, "one chance."

Isaac sent the record out to radio stations and major labels, hoping for it to make enough noise to get picked up nationally. But the response he and Lee were hoping for never materialized. According to Isaac the closest the single got to getting played on the radio is when a disk jock from a local station made a highly unusual announcement on air: "The dude said on the radio, 107.5 – 'We are not gonna play 'Is It What You Want.' We cracked up! Wow, that's deep.

"It was a whole racist thing that was going on," he reflects. "So we just looked over and kept on going. That was it. That was about the way it goes… If you were Black and you were living in Nashville and stuff, that's the way you got treated." Isaac already knew as much from all the times he'd brought he and Lee's tapes (even their cache of country music tunes) over to Music Row to try to drum up interest to no avail.

"Isaac, he really worked his ass off," says Lee. "He probably been to every record place down on Music Row." Nashville's famed recording and music business corridor wasn't but a few blocks from where Lee grew up. Close enough, he remembers, for him to ride his bike along its back alleys and stumble upon the occasional random treasure, like a discarded box of harmonicas. Getting in through the front door, however, still felt a world away.

"I just don't think at the time our music fell into a category for them," he concedes. "It was before its time."

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Lee stopped making music some time in the latter part of the '90s, around the time his mom passed away and life became increasingly tough to manage. "When my mother died I had a nervous breakdown," he says, "So I shut down for a long time. I was in such a sadness frame of mind. That's why nobody seen me. I had just disappeared off the map." He fell out of touch with Isaac, and in an indication of just how bad things had gotten for him, lost track of all the recordings they'd made together. Music became a distant memory.

Fortunately, Isaac kept the faith. In a self-published collection of his poetry – paeans to some of his favorite entertainment and public figures entitled Friends and Dick Clark – he'd written that he believed "music has a life of its own." But his prescience and presence of mind were truly manifested in the fact that he kept an archive of he and Lee's work. As perfectly imperfect as "Is It What You Want" now sounds in a post-Personal Space world, Lee and Isaac's lone official release was in fact just a taste. The bulk of the Is It What You Want album is culled from the pair's essentially unheard home recordings – complete songs, half-realized experiments, Isaac's blue monologues and pronouncements et al – compiled, mixed and programmed in the loose and impulsive creative spirit of their regular get-togethers from decades ago. The rest of us, it seems, may have finally caught up to them.

On the prospect of at long last reaching a wider audience, Isaac says simply, "I been trying for a long time, it feels good." Ever the survivor, he adds, "The only way I know how to make it to the top is to keep climbing. If one leg break on the ladder, hey, you gotta fix it and keep on going… That's where I be at. I'll kill death to make it out there."

For Lee it all feels akin to a personal resurrection: "It's like I was in a tomb and the tomb was opened and I'm back… Man, it feels so great. I feel like I'm gonna jump out of my skin." Success at this stage of his life, he realizes, probably means something different than what it did back when he was singing and dancing in Isaac's front yard. "What I really mean by 'making it,'" he explains isn't just the music being heard but, "the story being told."

Occasionally Lee will pull up "Is It What You Want" on YouTube on his phone, put on his headphones, and listen. He remembers the first time he heard his recorded voice. How surreal it was, how he thought to himself, "Is that really me?" What would he say to that younger version of himself now?

"I would probably tell myself, hang in there, don't give up. Keep striving for the goal. And everything will work out."

Despite what's printed on the record label, sometimes you do get more than one chance.

Tape
"Samples, movies and beats. That's the essence of Dead End's brand new LP titled Kino Vol.1. The Portuguese producer takes the chair and delivers a masterful performance that combines music and cinema. Kino Vol.1 is a multidisciplinary album built around samples picked from some of his most loved blockbusters and inspired by iconic movie clips. For the occasion, Saturate's Instagram profile has turned into a video gallery, featuring footage from cult movies and series such as The Office, Sicario, A Fistful Of Dollars, perfectly synched with Dead End's productions.
The album experience itself resembles that of a mini-series like Netflix's Love Death Robot or Oat Studios, where every episode is a story on its own, written and shot in a different way. The fourteen tracks, or episodes as I like to call them, range from heavy club to hip hop and halftime. Some are more colorful and atmospheric like the ending tripled composed by 'Cocoon,' 'Voyage' (feat Dj Ride) and 'Flowers Bloom'. These cuts seem to come off reflective and introspective movies. Others are way heavier, as they were made straight for fighting and chase scenes. In this group, you can count 'Melee Attack,' 'Though Break,' 'Stealth', 'Thin Ice'. My favorite instead are those which set up an ambiguous and sinister mood. 'Bullit Drift,' 'The Fog,' 'Shindeiru,' 'The Road,' all these episodes could fit very well in both mental thrillers (a la Nolan) and unconventional psycho/horror movies. They build a palpable tension that successfully keeps me on my toes as I expect a jump scare or a sudden plot twist to come in at every second given.
In conclusion, Dead Ends' Kino Vol.1 has the virtue of creating a listening experience that, thanks to its references to the world of cinema, becomes interactive and involves the listener in first person. It's impossible not to try to figure out from which films the samples are taken or to try to imagine which scene would be perfect for a specific track."

With his Arjunamusic label and a growing catalog of category-defying releases, Samuel Rohrer
continues to quietly, yet confidently, make a name for himself as a genuinely unique figure within
the European electronic music realm. Over the past decade he has assembled a repertoire of
music that fills a sadly neglected gap in the modern musical landscape. That is to say, he has
made a number of “electronically”-aided works that never seem to make “electronic-ism” the main
selling point or raison d'être. Rohrer understands that we inhabit a networked media landscape
that no longer sees a novelty value in every synthetic or technological sound, and by realizing
this, he makes a music that fully engages with the present without completely disregarding the
exciting speculative sensibility that has allowed electronic music to solidify into a tradition. His
latest solo album, Hungry Ghosts, again shows the high quality of sonic design that can be
achieved by conceptualizing musical passages as living, breathing entities rather than as
signposts to some still distant reality.
Maybe more so than any of Rohrer’s solo records to date, Hungry Ghosts is the one that
most unambiguously displays the artist as a kind of inspired sound “cultivator” or landscaper
rather than just a straightforward “producer”. The emphasis here seems to be biological growth
processes rendered in musical form, and in fact some track titles namechecking the biodiversity
of the external world (“Slow Fox”, “Ctenophora”) and neurochemistry (“Serotonin”) lend some
additional credence to this interpretation.
As with previous outings, Rohrer starts with his skills as a genre-resistant percussionist
and builds from there, with dense clusters of drum hits and icy cymbal exclamations leading the
way into a wide-open atmosphere full of fragmented phrases, marked with strange reversals or
compressions of time. The percussive portions and other ambiences merge together in such a
way that the latter seems like a kind of shifting, holographic camouflage for the former; an effect
which makes for a greater than usual number of shifts in mood. Rohrer’s already established
ambiguity and mystery are the moods that permeate throughout, to be sure, but there are also
surprising moments of humorous whimsy (the flourishes of cartoon mischief and teasing silences
on the tracks “Human Regression” and “Bodylanguage”), reverence (the optimistic organ swells
and steady sequencer guiding “Ceremonism”), and meditative focus (the slow-motion spectral
waltz of “Treehouse”). Also notable here are very brief etudes, such as “Window Pain,” whose
dark, lush ebb and flow actually seem tailored to repeated or looped listening.
It’s particularly remarkable that almost all of this material is recorded solo and in a “live /
no overdubs” mode, given how much it feels like well-rehearsed ensemble playing, and given the
impeccable timing involved in continually exchanging the sounds at the very forefront of the mix.
And here we come full circle to the idea of “electronic music” mentioned at the beginning here:
instead of making us feel that we are in the presence of some fully-realized form brought back
from “the future,” Rohrer invites us instead to witness fascinating processes of transition and
mutation, and to value them for what they are now as much as for where they are headed.

Swoontide is being released on 12” Limited Edition x 500 sea green 180GSM colour vinyl this September. Cormorant Tree Oh announces the release of folk horror masterpiece, via Trapped Animal! “Marrying skeletal balalaika and disembodied samples with low-lying synth organ lines and a focal point here – Keane’s arresting vocals, it doubles as one of our favourite Irish tracks of the year thus far.” The Thin Air // Trapped Animal is very excited to announce we will be working with new visual and aural talent, Mary Keane aka Cormorant Tree Oh on her folk horror masterpiece that is Swoontide. The Cave, the first single from Swoontide dropped in June on digitals. Mary says on the track: “This song is a celebration of the form and symbolism of caves. They are portals to another realm, the site of our earliest artistic expression, places of transcendence, the hermit’s refuge. They are colossal gees in the landscape. They are where picnicking lovers go to make mischief on a summer’s day. The cave in question is located in Portrane Co.Dublin.” Swoontide is the distillation of several years of Mary Keane’s life, recorded on her laptop as and when a new song or idea would come along. Mary talks about her process: “I love to stitch in samples from nature as so many of my songs are inspired in some way by the natural world. I’m also drawn to more domestic sounds like my mother’s washing machine or water coming to the boil. I play some unusual instruments throughout the album including balalaika, theremin, psaltery and lots of improvised percussion including bread bins, biscuit tins, stones, and a spiral staircase.” Try taking a walk in the dark with this album, we dare you. Track Listing: 1 Thirty Deer Heads 2 Zip Issues 3 Sphere Of The Sensory 4 Pareidolia 5 Holiday Rigor Mortis 6 Pissing Stones 7 All Of It 8 The Cave 9 We Are Fruiting Bodies

Within the last ten years the resurgence of sixties Gallic Pop, once known as Ye-Ye music, has escalated beyond an inter-stellar dizzy height. What might have been a waning, embarrassing genre destined for a shelf life/death gathering dust amongst the Eurovisions of yesteryear, the ‘jerk-beat’ psychsploitation records of the latter day French-Disco had soon found new floor space in some of the most credible nightspots in London and Japan.

Without a shadow of doubt, the flagship LP with best odds on becoming a discerning household object was “Histoire de Melody Nelson” by one Serge Gainsbourg. An inimitable, 45-minute concept LP handcrafted by a bass-driven psychedelic rock group and a heaven sent, 1001 piece orchestral and choral symphony. The album left hip hop producers alongside progressive rock aficionados crying out for more and more for years to come. This LP was in a league of its very own… or was it?

The seldom-sung musical arranger for Melody Nelson has become one of the most enigmatic names in French-funk; lorded by many as the “French David Axelrod” Jean-Claude Vannier’s name is the lesser-spotted, tell-tale seal of sample-friendly quality when it comes to crate-digging ‘en Francais’. Suitably, when rumours amongst French record dealers claiming “the band who played Melody Nelson recorded a follow-up lp” became a legend of psychedelic folk-lore. Another unconfirmed rumour about JCV taking the remaining out-takes of the beloved Melody Nelson to create a promo-only experimental rock LP left sample hungry producers and DJs in turmoil…

For those in the know the answers to these mysteries lay flat between the anonymous gatefold sleeve of an undiscovered conceptual album bizarrely entitled “L’Enfant Assassin des Mouches” by a custom-built avant-rock entourage called Insolitudes. The rocking-horse manure treasure hunt began.

So here we have it. The mythical teen-tonic for all those suffering from Melody Nelson withdrawal symptoms. For record collectors looking for that special something, this LP contains the extra-special EVERYTHING. Peruse the following genres: Psychedelic, Classical, Soundtracks, Jazz, Hip Hop, Samples, Avant Garde, Funk. Then place a copy of “L’Enfant Assassin des Mouches” in each section.

History denotes that when ‘our man in Paris’ Msr. Gainsbourg first heard the initial bones of this LP he took his poetic pencil to paper providing bizarre liner notes, thus consummating the most extraordinary concept album of all time. The story “The Child Assassin Of The Flies” was to be included as the only information to grace the LPs highly collectible, concertina gatefold sleeve. The story in full is reproduced in its native-tongue on this very special re-release package. The CD also includes the bonus track “Je M’ Appelle Geraldine”, a beat heavy John Barry-esque track taken from Vannier’s super-rare 7? EP “Point D’Interrogation”.

DJs and Producers such as Jim O’Rourke, Stereolab’s Tim Gane and David Holmes have spent sleepless nights in perusal of original copies of this perfect release and now regard it as ‘One Of The Best’. Recent copies on eBay have commanded ridiculous price-tags, and is now one of the most sought-after articles amongst the vinyl hungry hip-hop community.

Blue Vinyl
If emptiness is heaviness is Godliness, Birds of Prey’s third full-length LP is an immaculate conception from on high. The record luxuriates in the spaces between. What’s left out says as much as what made it in. Deep, droning, and dub wise, “Vanishing Point” cascades in elegance. Its reference points call towards the sample manipulation of American tape music and the downward gaze of amniotic British bass music. It charts its own path nonetheless, building its own space for drifting off to. Unlike many peers operating in similar realms, Birds of Prey are a proper band, a foursome: Grant Aaron, Clay Wilson, Eric Holmes, and Camille Altay. Each are artists in their own right with a distinct practice. In Birds of Prey, their collaborations in studio take on a greater shape, whittled and edited into cosmic formlessness. Although borne of improvisation, you may never know that in the listening. “Vanishing Point” is a tight, coherent work, the sound of a cadre of talented musicians locked in flow. Rippling tones become glacial melodies. Cavernous drums emerge barely from the ether. Rhythms interlock, interpolate. Patterns repeat and dissolve whence they came. There is untold potency in simplicity, and Birds of Prey make it known.

Vinyl Only

After many years of promoting deep, minimal and micro genres on their YouTube platform, UFO Beats is launching it's own label under the same name. On their first only vinyl release, they welcome Zlatnichi, a talented producer who is taking minimal to its new heights.

Previously only available on a limited pressing on the Music On Vinyl label in 2012. Rubyworks are pleased to present a newly remastered tenth anniversary pressing of 'Area 52' by Rodrigo y Gabriela. Recorded in Havana with some of the best Cuban musicians on the island, with a stellar guest line-up including John Tempesta on drums, Anoushka Shankar on sitar, Carles Benavent on bass guitar and Les Trio Joubran on ouds. Newly mastered for vinyl by John Webber at Air Studios in London, working with the original mixes supplied by Grammy award winning mixer Rafa Sardina. This new edition comes on 2 x sky-blue and red splattered 140gsm vinyl records in a spot-UV finish, gatefold sleeve with a 12" x 12" colour insert on 150g art paper. Long unavailable, 'Area 52' sells for upwards of $65.00 on Discogs.

Redcar is only the beginning. This is all an opera.
It will take some time to unveil, the same way it is unveiling to Redcar, as he acknowledges his crazy freedom. Angels and stars, the sovereign verb, the heart at its center.
Redcar is not really there to affirm anything but the need to say who we are and what we pray for every day.
‘Redcar les adorables étoiles’ is out September 23rd.

turntable warrior Paul Sitter is back with another bout of cut-up grooves to give the nimble-fingered plenty to get busy with. This is all about bad-ass 45s to rock the party by pasting together all manner of iconic licks. 'Paul's Mood' is a midtempo strutter which revolves around the 'Funky Drummer' break and slips plenty more samples into every bar. 'How You Feeling?' pulls up a rave MC call-out you might well have heard from the likes of The Prodigy in the early days, although here the sample gets planted into some classic funk. Given the spectrum of sounds across each track, this 7" feels built for those who like to pick their favourite bits and juggle them to kingdom come.

Purple Vinyl

Concentric Records present this special edition EP by the Berlin-based duo YHDESSA - composed of Dutch-Italian composer and poly- instrumentalist Grand River and Sardinian electronic music experimentalist Enrica Falqui.

Entitled Along The Simple Line, the 5-track EP is a unique sonic journey that merges in pure form the distinct worlds of the two composers, exposing a warm and delicate essence. Perfectly punctuated, and in a pace of its own, the album gently and precisely unfolds through touching musical spaces, dramatic textures, entrancing rhythms and unexpected vocal lines, revealing a wonderful depth. The result is so perfectly uniting as if woven by the same two hands.

Yhdessa is a collaborative project made up of Grand River and Enrica Falqui which was conceptualised in 2017 while the duo shared a music studio and were living as a couple in Berlin. Their first piece, released in 2018 on the label One Instrument Records, was named after the Vermona E-Piano and is composed entirely using the analogue synthesizer that was built in 1978. Following this came their lingering soundscape Waldorf Micro Q featured on the record “One Instrument Volume 01” as well as an impelling remix of Dunes by Jiska Huizing and Rudi Valdersnes.

Aimée Portioli is a Berlin-based Dutch-Italian composer and sound designer who records and performs as Grand River. The name Grand River evokes nature, scale, and movement, all key forces in Portioli’s work. Her first release as Grand River was the resolute 2017 Crescente EP, which includes Flies, a composition named by XLR8R as one of the best tracks of that year. She followed this with her melodious debut album Pineapple (Spazio Disponibile, 2018), which garnered praise from The Quietus, amongst others. The moving and dynamic subsequent album, Blink A Few Times To Clear Your Eyes (Editions Mego, 2020) was lauded by Resident Advisor and The Verge, and was elected among the best albums of 2020 by Inverted Audio. Separately, Grand River’s work has appeared on compilations by Ghostly International, Tresor, Longform Editions and has composed an official remix for Tangerine Dream.

Enrica Falqui is a Sardinian music producer and DJ currently based in Berlin. With artistic versatility as one of her defining traits: she comfortably traverses between the dimensions of electronic music. For over a decade she has dedicated herself to the study of sound and the relentless excavation of lesser-known music, which has earned her bookings all over the world and commissions for her productions from some of the most respected labels including Marignal Returns which released Plexus, a mini-album of cool, divergent compositions. Enrica is also part of the coveted duo, ERIS, whose debut and sophomore EPs, Moments and Champions League, found their home on the illustrious Cabaret Recordings. The releases entwine the forceful with the ethereal and create an original, future-facing and club-orientated sound. Moloko, a drum-focussed track laced with weaving synths, was considered by Resident Advisor as one of the best tracks of 2019.

Aimée and Enrica’s musical union through Yhdessa, is one of colour and warmth. It expresses an experimental electro-ambient side of the two composers, to form a style that is meditative, other-worldly and at times introspective. Although, the two are now, no longer romantically engaged, they maintain a passionate friendship to match this profound musical partnership.

International Anthem proudly presents Step on Step, a double LP collection of newly unearthed solo home recordings created by enigmatic producer, arranger, and composer Charles Stepney in the basement of his home on the Southside of Chicago during the years before his untimely death in 1976. Stepney’s signature “baroque soul” sound is known to many as it’s heard in his prismatic orchestral arrangements for Rotary Connection, Minnie Riperton, Howlin Wolf, Terry Callier, Earth, Wind & Fire, and many more. His sound has been used by countless samplers in the hip-hop world including Kanye West, The Fugees, and MF Doom. But in comparison to the post-mortem renown of his sound, or the artists he supported while he was alive, Stepney is a greatly underappreciated figure… a genius relegated to the shadows.

Step on Step is Stepney’s eponymous debut album, featuring 23 bare-bones, demo-style home recordings, most of which are Stepney originals that were never again recorded by him or any other artist. Highlights from those original works include “Denim Groove,” which hears Stepney on piano and congas alongside his first instrument (the vibraphone), and “Look B4U Leap,” one of several kinetic lo-fi dance numbers that feature Stepney having fun with an early-gen Moog synthesizer. It also features prototypical, seedling-style demos of Stepney compositions for Earth, Wind & Fire, including “That’s The Way of The World,” “Imagination,” and “On Your Face,” as well as the original version of “Black Gold,” which would eventually be recorded by Rotary Connection (as “I Am The Black Gold of The Sun”).

A collection of home recordings Charles Stepney -- the late composer/producer who worked with Earth Wind & Fire, Deniece Williams, Rotary Connection, Minnie Ripperton, Muddy Waters, Howlin Wolf, Terry Callier, and more, and was sampled by Kanye West, Madlib, MF Doom, A Tribe Called Quest, The Fugees, and more -- called Step On Step is coming out September 9 via International Anthem.

Re-Release des Debutalbums 'Garden Of Death' (2016) der schwedischen Melodic-Death-Metal-Formation This Ending. Klingt wie Hypocrisy, At the gates, A canorous quintet, Amon Amarth oder Wolfheart!

‘Amorpha’, a side-long shower of synthetic bells and bass, as
patterns interlock and repeat and the beat within the bar lines
shifts constantly, forms a new, latest miniature of infinity. You flip
it, and ‘Geomancy’ resets you, starting anew, with heavy drift and
drone leading into a space of shorter broken lines and Middle
Eastern tonalities, that roll back into ether again - new spaces, but
mysteriously consonant with the vibe.
 ‘Bajascillators’ arrives almost five years since their last official fulllength, 2017’s ‘Bajas Fresh’. In the eight years prior to ‘Bajas
Fresh’, Bitchin Bajas issued seven albums, plus cassettes, EPs,
singles… wave after wave of analogue synth tones and zones
extending into a stratospheric arc. Each release its own
headspace, shape and timbre, each one sliding naturally into their
implacable, eternal gene pool.
 Following the flow, always, the Bajas went ever-deeper-and-higher
on these records, whether making soundtracks or collaborating
with Bonnie ‘Prince’ Billy, using only fortune cookie fortunes as a
libretto. Plus engagement, with a steady stream of shows and
tours around the world; live re-airings and expansions of the space
captured in their records as they continued to grow and flow - all
the way through, really, to the present moment.
 Plus, there have been releases since 2017 - a split 12”, a 7”
single, digital track release and two ‘Cuts’ cassettes, plus the allcovers cassette release ‘Switched On Ra’. But the overall number
of releases, plus the five years between long players, implies a
potential distance between phases, a new line in the sand. The
sound of Bajascillators bear this out. How couldn’t it? Compared to
2017, this is a different world.
 Mastered directly from half-inch analogue tape, ‘Bajascillators’
floats transparently from the speakers, its expansive grooves
gathering resonance and building momentum over the four sides,
from genesis to re-conclusion, cascading ecstatically. The elastic
magic of time at its brightest. As the world keeps turning, so too do
Bitchin Bajas, in the same unknowable way. You can’t explain it -
just keep turning.

"The whole point of this record was to share every emotion that I feel," sagt THE SOFT MOON aka Luis Vasquez. "No two songs are the same. It's about existing in the world as a human being and experiencing many emotions and experiences throughout life." Daher auch der Titel "Exister", ein Album, das von den ekstatischen Freuden und lähmenden Tiefen des Lebens handelt und davon, dass das Durchhalten und die Existenz manchmal alles ist, was wir haben. Der Grund, warum das Album für Vasquez so persönlich ist, liegt darin, dass sich sein Leben während der Entstehung des Albums stark verändert hat. Er verließ Berlin, sein langjähriges Zuhause, und zog in den Joshua Tree, um während des Lockdowns musikalisch und persönlich etwas Freiraum zu finden. Es fühlt sich wie eine Art musikalischer Neustart für Vasquez an. Das Cover des Albums zeigt ein Foto von Vasquez als Kind und steht stellvertretend für eine Platte, bei der es darum ging, sich wieder mit seinem jüngeren Ich zu verbinden, wobei eine Mutter-Sohn-Beziehung im Mittelpunkt des Albums steht. "It's my child self that you hear all over it," sagt er. "I was reminiscing and hurting a lot during the writing process. This is possibly my most vulnerable record yet." Doch trotz des Schmerzes, der Wut, der Verletzlichkeit und des Schmerzes, die im Kern dieser Platte zu finden sind, gibt es auch ein tiefes Gefühl von Hoffnung und Schönheit. Auf dem abschließenden Titel-Song "Exister" scheint das Album einen Ort des Friedens und des Trostes zu erreichen und endet mit einem ruhigen, nachdenklichen und ergreifenden Moment, der ein Gefühl des Optimismus nach einer Zeit des Umbruchs einfängt.

"The whole point of this record was to share every emotion that I feel," sagt THE SOFT MOON aka Luis Vasquez. "No two songs are the same. It's about existing in the world as a human being and experiencing many emotions and experiences throughout life." Daher auch der Titel "Exister", ein Album, das von den ekstatischen Freuden und lähmenden Tiefen des Lebens handelt und davon, dass das Durchhalten und die Existenz manchmal alles ist, was wir haben. Der Grund, warum das Album für Vasquez so persönlich ist, liegt darin, dass sich sein Leben während der Entstehung des Albums stark verändert hat. Er verließ Berlin, sein langjähriges Zuhause, und zog in den Joshua Tree, um während des Lockdowns musikalisch und persönlich etwas Freiraum zu finden. Es fühlt sich wie eine Art musikalischer Neustart für Vasquez an. Das Cover des Albums zeigt ein Foto von Vasquez als Kind und steht stellvertretend für eine Platte, bei der es darum ging, sich wieder mit seinem jüngeren Ich zu verbinden, wobei eine Mutter-Sohn-Beziehung im Mittelpunkt des Albums steht. "It's my child self that you hear all over it," sagt er. "I was reminiscing and hurting a lot during the writing process. This is possibly my most vulnerable record yet." Doch trotz des Schmerzes, der Wut, der Verletzlichkeit und des Schmerzes, die im Kern dieser Platte zu finden sind, gibt es auch ein tiefes Gefühl von Hoffnung und Schönheit. Auf dem abschließenden Titel-Song "Exister" scheint das Album einen Ort des Friedens und des Trostes zu erreichen und endet mit einem ruhigen, nachdenklichen und ergreifenden Moment, der ein Gefühl des Optimismus nach einer Zeit des Umbruchs einfängt.

Divino Niño are no strangers to bold reinvention. When Camilo Medina and Javier Forero_friends whose bond dates back to their childhoods in Bogotá, Colombia_moved to Chicago and recruited guitarist Guillermo Rodriguez to form a band, they were psych-pop outsiders playing live shows with a drum machine. With the addition of drummer Pierce Codina, their 2019 breakthrough and debut LP for Winspear, Foam, solidified their place as local indie rock mainstays. Soon after, multi-instrumentalist Justin Vittori joined to round out their lineup. Once again, with their masterful, unpredictable, and eminently danceable new album, the band has done something radical: They totally upended the way they write songs, eschewing practice room jams for unrelentingly collaborative beats, implied grooves for immersive dance floor heaters, and mellow vibes for frenetic doses of reggaeton, electropop, and trap on their most adventurous and ambitious work to date. Welcome to the Last Spa on Earth. Written and recorded over the past two years, Last Spa on Earth deals in release and catharsis: confronting your darkest moments and coming out better for it. The album artwork, done by Medina, a longstanding visual artist, depicts a dreamy, yet graffiti-tagged spa, void of physical bodies so listeners can envision themselves in this unique environment. It represents the yin and yang approach Divino Niño took while creating the album: the serenity of the spa and the chaos of the party. Ultimately, the band's desire is to provide healing in the same way one feels after sweating, shivering, stretching, and resting at the spa against the backdrop of the world's darkness. Last Spa on Earth is the cathartic product of Divino Niño letting go of their musical preconceptions, past traumas, and future anxieties to embrace change, chaos, and each other's contributions both to these songs and to each other.

Divino Niño are no strangers to bold reinvention. When Camilo Medina and Javier Forero_friends whose bond dates back to their childhoods in Bogotá, Colombia_moved to Chicago and recruited guitarist Guillermo Rodriguez to form a band, they were psych-pop outsiders playing live shows with a drum machine. With the addition of drummer Pierce Codina, their 2019 breakthrough and debut LP for Winspear, Foam, solidified their place as local indie rock mainstays. Soon after, multi-instrumentalist Justin Vittori joined to round out their lineup. Once again, with their masterful, unpredictable, and eminently danceable new album, the band has done something radical: They totally upended the way they write songs, eschewing practice room jams for unrelentingly collaborative beats, implied grooves for immersive dance floor heaters, and mellow vibes for frenetic doses of reggaeton, electropop, and trap on their most adventurous and ambitious work to date. Welcome to the Last Spa on Earth. Written and recorded over the past two years, Last Spa on Earth deals in release and catharsis: confronting your darkest moments and coming out better for it. The album artwork, done by Medina, a longstanding visual artist, depicts a dreamy, yet graffiti-tagged spa, void of physical bodies so listeners can envision themselves in this unique environment. It represents the yin and yang approach Divino Niño took while creating the album: the serenity of the spa and the chaos of the party. Ultimately, the band's desire is to provide healing in the same way one feels after sweating, shivering, stretching, and resting at the spa against the backdrop of the world's darkness. Last Spa on Earth is the cathartic product of Divino Niño letting go of their musical preconceptions, past traumas, and future anxieties to embrace change, chaos, and each other's contributions both to these songs and to each other.