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.
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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.
Propulsive tabla percussion and meditative drones collide in deep instrumental conversation on Shruti Dances, the debut collaborative album between UK heavyweights Auntie Flo and Sarathy Korwar, forthcoming on the newly relaunched, Make Music imprint.
Across six exchanges of dynamic electronic production and richly layered Indian classical percussion, Shruti Dances discovers two architects of rhythm and movement on an explorative journey through South Asian tonality and diasporic identity.
One an elemental force on drums, the other on the decks, London-based, Indian-raised drummer/composer, Sarathy Korwar and Scottish-Goan producer/DJ, Auntie Flo first connected back in 2019, unaware both were navigating opposite ends of the beat equilibrium. Where Auntie Flo (aka Brian D’Souza) was new to Korwar’s reimagining of jazz, Indian classical music, electronics and spoken word, Korwar was already a big admirer of Auntie Flo’s intl-facing club output, having first discovered D’Souza’s Rainfall On Red Earth off his Soniferous Garden 12” and 2019 SAY award-winning (Scottish Album of The Year), Radio Highlife. Once properly acquainted, Korwar invited Auntie Flo to remix a track off his landmark 2019 album, More Arriving, described by The Guardian as “a stylistic leap from jazz to hip-hop to spoken word…a protest record encompassing the breadth of immigrant experiences”.
The seeds of an unlikely yet powerful musical bond had been sown and when mutual friend, co-founder of Mixcloud, and Make Music label organiser, Nikhil Shah, asked the duo to inaugurate the label’s new live/electronic direction (previously home to Leon Vynehall, U and George Fitzgerald), Korwar and D’Souza hit the studio. Expanding on early conversations around traditional Indian instrumentation, practicing meditation and improvisation, Shruti Dances (a riff on free dance movement, Ecstatic Dance) was born. Meaning 'that which is heard' in Sanskrit, shruti refers to a note in musical terms, but in this case also references the album’s most prominent influence and instrument, the shruti box.
“The shruti box formed the basis of the sound of the project. It’s a drone instrument, similar to a harmonium, and it makes an amazing sound. I’ve spent the last two years studying sound therapy, and immersing myself in ambient and drone through the Ambient Flo project, and am particularly interested in how they can induce meditative states of consciousness. I was really excited to hear what the Shruti box could do with this EP.” Auntie Flo
Across six tracks, (each named after 6 of the 7 main musical notes in the Indian solfege system), Shruti Dances draws on a celestial mix of traditional percussion and processed digital effects. On opening track Dha, Korwar’s sparse tabla rhythms hop across D’Souza’s scattered, arpeggiated synths, where as on Pa, a Balearic shuffle channels Moroccan Gnawa music and Senegalese sabar meets Mark Ernestus’s Ndagga Rhythm Force. Harmonic speed tabla and roaming drones provide a sense of the ethereal and fourth-worldly on Ma, a track that’s resplendent, curious atmosphere would fit snug into the deep listening-focused programming of Auntie Flo’s Ambient Flo online radio station, a curatorial platform and avenue exploring his interest/promotion of mental health, launched over the UK’s first lockdown. Ni sees Korwar pick up the sticks, thrashing toms in a spirited frenzy, whilst downtempo album closer Sa offers some room for reflection, its slow, swirling chords cloud our focus, leaving us with all but the distant sound of birdsong.
- A1: Coming Of A God
- A2: Greatest Movie Never Made
- A3: Parallel World
- A4: Parallel World (Outro)
- A5: Leap Of Faith
- A6: Time & Space
- A7: Optical World
- A8: Nebula
- A9: Invitation
- B1: Point Of View
- B10: Ships With Souls
- B2: Moebius
- B3: Arrakis
- B4: Millions Of Stars
- B5: Into The Galaxy
- B6: O'bannon Meets Jodo
- B7: Finding The Others
- B8: Spiritual Warriors
- B9: Conception Of Paul
- C1: The Pirate Spaceship
- C2: Rescue From A Sandworm
- C3: Mad Emperor
- C4: Burning Giraffes
- C5: Baron Harkonnen
- C6: Giger's Theme
- C7: Deepest Darkness Of The Soul
- C8: Feyd Rautha
- C9: Total Extermination
- D1: I Am Dune
- D2: Hollywood
- D3: Fingerprints
- D4: Open The Mind
- D5: Try
Jodorowsky's Dune tells the tale of cult filmmaker Alejandro Jodorowsky's unsuccessful attempt to adapt Frank Herbert's classic sci-fi novel, Dune, to the big screen. Composer Kurt Stenzel gives life to a retro-futuristic universe as fantastic as Jodorowsky's own vision for his Dune-a film whose A-list cast would have included Salvador Dalí, Orson Welles, and Mick Jagger in starring roles and music by psychedelic prog-rockers Pink Floyd.
Building upon director Frank Pavich's idea for a score with a Tangerine Dream-type feel,' Stenzel lays out a cosmic arsenal of analog synthesizers that would make any collector green at the gills: among other gems are a rare Moog Source, CZ-101s, and a Roland Juno 6, as well as unorthodox instruments like a toy Concertmate organ and a Nintendo DS. I also played guitar and did vocals,' says Stenzel, some chanting... and some screaming, which comes naturally to me.' The score also features narration by Jodorowsky himself. As Stenzel notes, Jodo's voice is actually the soundtrack's main musical instrument-listening to him was almost like hypnosis, like going to the guru every night.'
This highly-anticipated soundtrack LP was sequenced and mixed by Stenzel with the listener in mind and flows through a four-sides' LP approach. I wanted it to play like the records I grew up with, where every side was a journey.'
Having initially met more than a decade ago at a local community radio station, sometimes doing guest slots on each other’s live, improvised noise shows, Cormac Culkeen and Dave Grenon knew they had a mutual interest in working with sonic textures. They listened to each other’s bands for a handful of years, and in 2017, “made good on a threat” that they’d been making for quite a long time: to start a band. At Cormac’s gentle but clear urging—declaring that they’d gone ahead and booked a space in which to record a video—the two wrote their first song, “Sebaldus,” an ambitious 12-minute trip, which also serves as the fireworks finale to their self-titled debut album. With surges of pathos that smooth out into something more soothing in turn, Cormac goes: “The hunter, you’ve seen him / The archer, his arrows are strong / And hunger, you’ve known her / I know the winter is long.” The track is as much about enduring a Canadian winter as it is about the eponymous 8th century hermit, shot through with sublimated desire. As Cormac put it, Joyful Joyful’s songs are “a little bit outside of time.” But while the lyrics beg close, oblique reading unto themselves, there’s also a distinct sense that they’re only one of many more ways that the duo shapes sound. Cormac, whose voice is like a sea with irregular tides, lights up about an idea in traditional sean-nós Irish music that songs already exist and are out there; it’s up to the singer to become the conduit. This belief in music as something to be channelled, and something more than sound, resonates with the singer’s fundamentalist religious past. To paraphrase: lots of group singing, harmonies, no instrumentation, totally unmediated, no priest, congregational—not choral, not a performance, not about talent, the spirit moves through people. “Of course that informs how I think about singing,” Cormac says. So, when they were exiled from the church because of their queerness, they took the music with them, dislocating it from its dogmatic bounds but not from its transcendent potential. This record might be thought of, then, as a kind of queering of sacred, devotional traditions—or at the very least, a space where all of these things can be held at once. Perhaps perceivable by some as contradictions, these intersecting influences create the conditions for an incredibly singular sound. Dave is steady and exploratory in his handling of this multiplicity, arranging sounds as they’re revealed, corralling them, coaxing them into form. “Because Dave is there,” Cormac says, “I get to sing three times higher, and three times lower, and faster, and backwards, and all of these sounds! That are there. They’re all there.” When asked about early musical memories, Cormac recalled an immediate fascination with harmony: from demanding that the first person they ever heard singing it explain what they were doing, to always (still, to this day) singing in harmony with their twin sister around the house, to being part of a children’s choir that sang soprano in Handel’s Messiah—not realizing until they entered the room with all the other ranges that their learned melody was but one part of the whole. Just as tellingly, Dave reflects on his early attraction to “abstraction and becoming abstract,” describing childhood afternoons messing with microphone and speaker feedback loops, producing long, enduring sounds with almost undetectable variations. In a way unique to the coalescing of these two listeners, notions of harmony are central to their output. Dave samples field recordings, old keyboards and synths, and vocal drones, running the live singing through four or five parallel effects chains, sampling and treating everything again in the moment. “Another way to put it is that Cormac’s voice comes into the board and then comes back out shifted, delayed, and shattered; Cormac and I hear it, live with it, and respond,” Dave says. This work is contingent not only on a deep intuition (neither of them read sheet music) of polyphony and due proportion (something St Thomas Aquinas famously listed as an attribute of beauty) but also on their connection to each other and ability to read subtle cues. Dave says they’d hold each other’s hands while performing if it was more convenient to do so, riffing on something else Cormac mentioned about traditional Irish singing: that someone would always hold the singer’s hand, for fear that without a tether to the ground they might find themselves utterly lost, unsure how to return. Joyful Joyful doesn’t shy away from offering such experiences of departure; they’re willing to unsettle their audiences because they themselves are unsettled. Their shared penchant for spooky, heavy music, and self-described “omnivorous” listening practices equip them with an array of sonic concepts that support this effort; Diamanda Galás, The Rankin Family, Pan Sonic, Pauline Oliveros, Keith Fullerton Whitman, Yma Sumac, and Catholic hymnody were just a few that came up. Observing their audience gives them insight about the effect of each song—something they considered while arranging the album. Its arc is marked by soft, sometimes sudden oscillations between cacophony and euphony, day and night (listen for insects), and from sexual, visceral entanglements to more ephemeral, celestial ones. Front to back, it arouses expansion, unraveling. Of lightning, Vicki Kirby writes: “quite curious initiation rites precede these electrical encounters. An intriguing communication, a sort of stuttering chatter between the ground and the sky, appears to anticipate the actual stroke.” By all accounts, something similar seems to happen at Joyful Joyful shows, between those on the stage and those off it, between what’s earthly and what’s beyond. “A lightning bolt is not a straightforward resolution of the buildup of a charge difference between the earth and a cloud … there is, as it were, some kind of nonlocal communication effected between the two,” writes Karen Barad, extrapolating on Kirby’s thought. Cormac acknowledges that while they and Dave play a role in this mysterious charge that comes about, they’re not solely responsible. However ineffable it may be, it’s undoubtedly a form of communion—and a sensuously shocking one at that
"The dazzling symphonic album he always threatened to produce" UNCUT 5/5
"A soulful symphonic masterpiece" ROLLING STONE
Originally released in Japan only on CD in 2002, Plush's Fed lives up to the cult-like adulation it has garnered ever since. A stunning symphony of Bacharach-inspired pop, Toussaint-swing andMelody Nelson-era-Gainsbourg, it's an album bound together by Liam Hayes' maverick genius, an uncompromising Brian Wilson-esque quest for sonic perfection. Positively indulgent in every way, this sumptuous record has long deserved to be treated to a deluxe vinyl edition. Lovingly overseen by Hayes and recent collaborator Pat Sansone (Wilco/The Autumn Defense), it will finally be available on the format it should've always been, this Record Store Day 2018. Remastered and presented as a double LP - cut specially at 45rpm - it comes housed in a beautiful gatefold jacket with expanded artwork throughout.
Its expansive, singular vision infamously took years to realise, involving Earth Wind & Fire's horn arranger (the legendary Tom Tom MMLXXXIV) amongst other elite personnel. Recorded with five different engineers (including Steve Albini and John McEntire), Hayes meticulously extracted every ounce of pop from each note. A long list of renowned studio ringers (including soul drummer Morris Jennings) and Chicago regulars (McEntire, Rizzo, Parker) among many others provide playing of demonstrably professional precision. As such, Hayes' complex, meandering melodies are rendered far more coherent and satisfying than they otherwise might have appeared, bringing his epic, anguished pop to a rarely seen level of perfection and depth. This unstinting dedication to the overarching vision was rewarded handsomely - artistically, at least.
However, as might have been expected, his deluxe approach resulted in a bill too steep for any American or European label to ultimately support. It has since seemed unlikely that it would see the light of day on either side of the Atlantic. Yet we were determined not to allow Hayes' lifetime achievement to go unnoticed or let music fans across the world miss out on one of the finest albums of this century.
A wide-eyed opus of stunning intensity, Fed oozes Hayes' impeccable influences without ever becoming overwhelmed by them. Incredibly, it touches upon Blaxploitation soul, Boz Scaggs-soft-rock, hints of jazz and blues, timeless baroque and skewed pop. In one long minute, the stabbing, soulful "So Blind" moves through five different melodic segments, horns shift easily from haunting backdrop to explosive forefront, smoothly giving way to strings as Hayes' voice casts its bewitching spell. The ambitious soul of "Having It All" has been described as the diffident cousin of Marvin Gaye's "Save The Children" whilst the breezy "Greyhound Bus Station" is pure 70s AM Gold, evoking the easy warmth of Jimmy Webb's beloved Land's End period. The sublime resignation of "No Education", a beautifully slow number that begins, "Never read a book in my life/ But I feel just fine" is post-rock ballad heaven. Arriving towards the end, the title track arrives as a majestic suite, moving from a horn-and-guitar-led instrumental via shifting melodies to Hayes' compelling vocal bursts.
An album of such brilliance, Fed can comfortably sit alongside such staggering statement pieces as David Bowie's Young Americans, Randy Newman's 12 Songs or Harry Nilsson's Nilsson Schmilsson. Indeed, for all the sprawling elements that went in - lengthy guitar builds, exploding horn sections, solemn strings, female backup chorus - it is a deeply personal and original record. Employing a distinct "more is more" aesthetic, he demonstrates remarkable restraint in producing an album of such intimacy. "My creation has drowned me," he memorably sings on languid opener "Whose Blues", yet he navigates the shifting styles and ideas with enviable ease.
- A1: Cookin' On 3 Burners - This Girl (Feat Kylie Auldist)
- A2: Leisure - Slipping Away
- A3: (Re Jazz) - Gabrielle (Re:jazz)
- A4: Beady Belle - Self-Fulfilling (Feat India Arie)
- A5: Da Break - Give Your Love
- B1: Tom Misch - It Runs Through Me (Feat De La Soul)
- B2: Terry Callier & Paul Weller - Brother To Brother
- B3: Dublex Inc - Shine (Feat Sandhy Sandoro)
- B4: Normanton Street - Take A Walk With Me
- B5: Aloe Blacc & King Most - With My Friends
First Word Records continues its series of special collaborative releases for it's 15th anniversary with an absolutely firing double-header from 14KT and Tall Black Guy.
On this limited 7" vinyl, the two renowned US beat-makers revisit two of their previous First Word singles, turning out flips of each other's tracks, also featuring a multitude of talent, in the form of Moonchild, Muhsinah, Stro Elliot and James Poyser of The Roots.
Following on from the first volume in 14KT's jazz project 'IAMABEENIE', here he flips TBG and Moonchild's collab, 'I Will Never Know', originally from Tall Black Guy's 2017 sophomore album 'Let's Take A Trip'. The original neo-soul bump is transformed into a deliciously epic latin affair, drenched with deep Brazilian vibes throughout - this is one to draw for at those steamy get-downs; a slinky slab of dancefloor fire.
Tall Black Guy returns to First Word for the first time in a minute, and takes on the Muhsinah-lead joint 'The Power Of Same', the lead single from 14KT's 2019 acclaimed album, 'For My Sanity'.
As to be expected, TBG delivers his unmistakable blend of dope dubbed-out spacey soul and boom bap kicks & snares, complete with guitar licks from Stro Elliot, and keys from James Poyser. Two of the dopest producers in the game, this one is completely 1000% essential.
Gondwana Records sign LA bassist and composer Seth Ford-Young's Phi-Psonics project and announce a remastered deluxe-edition of The Cradle featuring bonus material
Phi-Psonics is a meditative, immersive instrumental group from Los Angeles, led by bassist Seth Ford-Young and featuring Sylvain Carton on woodwinds, Mitchell Yoshida on electric piano, and Josh Collazo on drums. Their deeply soulfulmusic draws on jazz and classical influences together with Ford-Young's own musical experiences, relationships, and his introduction to spirituality, yoga and philosophy at a young age, to create something uniquely its own. Phi-Psonics' name and ultimate aim is to find 'Phi' – the golden mean – in art, nature and self. Ford-Young explains:
"It's a bit of a cliché, but music saved my life many times and instilled in me a belief in the great power of healing through art. It is my hope and intention that this music provides healing to someone somewhere."
Originally from Washington DC area, Ford-Young moved to California in the early 90s and fell in love with the deep sounds of the upright bass and the music of Charles Mingus, John and Alice Coltrane, and Duke Ellington along with Bach, Chopin, Pärt, and Satie. He immersed himself deeply in music and keen to learn combinedintense personal study with collaborations, tours, and recordings with artists such as Tom Waits, Beats Antique, and John Vanderslice. In 2010 he moved from the San-Francisco Bay area to the Los Angeles hills and continued his explorations. But great music is rarely just about music and Ford-Young's meditative, soulful music draws on more than just the twin wellsprings of jazz and classical music:
"My mother was a yoga teacher from the early 70's until recently and taught me yoga and meditation at an early age, my stepfather is an Aikido instructor and student of the teachings of Gurdjieff. Those were all early areas of study that I came back to many times throughout my life. Phi-Psonics has been a project that unapologetically synthesizes some of these ideas into our music".
It's this mixture of influences, musical and extramusical, that gives the music of Phi-Psonics it's immersive quality and quiet power. Revealingly the music that would becomeThe Cradle, wasn't written specifically for an album, originally Ford-Young was just writing down what was coming through. As time went by and the album began to take shape, the world situation seemed to be getting darker and his compositions aim to offer hope as a response to the negative influences that abound today. Remarkably for such a beautiful sounding record, it was recorded at the composer's home, rather than in a studio, but the relaxed nature of this process gives the music an airy lightness that propels the music to some magical spaces.
Originally self-released on vinyl in a limited run just as the world went into lockdown, The Cradle reached Matthew Halsall (founder of Gondwana Records) when he aws looking for music for his Worldwide FM show and he was blown away, hearing a kindred spirit at work. Halsall explains:
"Phi-Psonics make beautiful, humble and honest music, it's not showy, but it has a deep vibe that will elevate your mind and soul if you let it. When we heard The Cradle we reached out and are really super delighted to welcome Seth and his band to our label". Whereas for Ford Young: "Connecting with Matthew and the Gondwana records family has been a light in the darkness of the last years - to have my music make connections even as we are more isolated."
Ford-Young is currently putting the finishing touches to the second Phi-Psonics record, but aware that only a select few had heard The Cradle, let alone had the chance to buy a copy, and entranced by its deceptive simplicity and elevating energy, Halsall suggested that Gondwana present the album as a remastered 'deluxe edition' with an extended running time featuring extra tracks and new artwork from Daniel Halsall.
The Cradle starts with First Step, perfectly setting the tone for the whole album, it is a beautiful, soulful slice of musical calm gently propelled by Ford-Young's resonant bass and elevated by sublime flute and Wurlitzer electric piano solos. The seductive title track The Cradle was written way back in 2011 during a time of great personal change that led the composer to a feeling of newness and nurture. The magical, winsome Desert Ride is inspired by many rides through the grandly cinematic Mojave Desert. You can experience how incredibly full of life it's harsh landscape is if you slow down to its tempo. The gentle, sublime Mama is a tribute to mothers of all kinds, beautiful and heroic. Drum Talk was largely improvised, Ford-Young and the band agreed on a topic and recorded their conversation. Choosing their notes based on how Josh's drums were tuned. Like Glass is named for the special properties of Glass. Like some music, glass is delicate, yet has structure. The first of the two bonus tracks Still Dancing was written during the early days of 2020 in response to the challenges we all were facing then. It's a reminder that the figurative dance continues and that real dancing is essential. And the second, The Searcher, also written as a response to 2020, is a gently hypnotic song about the introspection and growth that can spring from a difficult situation.
This then is The Cradle, a quiet self-contained masterpiece, life-affirming and elevating in equal measure and the first offering from a wonderful new voice in spiritual jazz and the latest members of the global Gondwana Records family.
- A1: Between The Lines
- A2: Like Today
- A3: Tears For The Sheep
- A4: Guns & Cigarettes
- A5: Don't Ever Fucking Question That
- A6: It Goes
- A7: If I Was Santa Claus
- A8: Aspiring Sociopath
- B1: Free Or Dead
- B2: Party For The Fight To Write
- B3: Mama Had A Baby And His Head Popped Off
- B4: They're All Gonna Laugh @ You
- B5: Lost And Found
- B6: The Woman With The Tattooed Hands
- B7: Nothing But Sunshine
Following the release of their debut album, Overcast!, Atmosphere was already making waves in the underground Hip-Hop scene, attracting attention for their unique combination of content, styles and sounds. Although the group was suddenly smaller due to the departure of one member, Spawn, the buzz continued to grow, as did the creative output of remaining members Slug and Ant. Over the next 3 years, the duo recorded and released a flurry of unofficial Atmosphere CD's, tapes, songs and side projects, along with pressing and distributing a string of vinyl EP's, titled "Ford One", "Ford Two", and "The Lucy EP". These vinyl EP's were ultimately consolidated onto one CD as well, for the purpose of selling on tour and distributing to retail, becoming what most considered to be Atmosphere's official sophomore album, Lucy Ford: The Atmosphere EP's, more commonly referred to as simply Lucy Ford. Lucy Ford was packed with the kind of nimble wordplay found on Atmosphere's debut, but it was paired with more self-reflective and introspective rhymes than their previous album. Tracks like "The Woman With the Tattooed Hands" and "Nothing But Sunshine" showed Slug was equally as talented at poignant storytelling as he was at conveying a deeper message for the greater good of humanity, while songs like "Don't Ever Fucking Question That" and "Like Today" stripped away at the character facade, allowing listeners to know the rapper on a more intimate level. The album wasn't entirely devoid of ego though. Slug reminds listeners of his competitive roots on "Guns & Cigarettes" over a truly inspired bluesy beat by Ant, who handled the lion's share of the album's production. And while Ant knows how to bring the emotional essence out of a beat, from the idyllic to the incensed, there were a few notable contributions from outside producers as well, including the dub-inspired "Free or Dead" by Jel, and the darkly optimistic "Nothing But Sunshine" by Moodswing9, among others. Now, in celebration of its 20th anniversary, the entire Lucy Ford album is finally available on 2xLP vinyl, for the first time in history! At last, fans and collectors everywhere can finally own this integral part of Atmosphere's legacy on vinyl, complete with the original artwork and a redesigned layout.
Joona Toivanen Trio makes their We Jazz Records debut with their new album "Both Only", out 25 Feb 2022. A landmark work for the long standing group, the album showcases a new sound for the band, trekking deep into new ideas for an acoustic jazz piano trio. Since their formation as teenagers in mid-1990's, the trio of pianist Joona Toivanen, bassist Tapani Toivanen and drummer Olavi Louhivuori (of Superposition, Ilmiliekki Quartet and Linda Fredriksson "Juniper") has developed their remarkably coherent band sound step by step, touring the world over. Nowadays, the trio is geographically split between Gothenburg, Sweden (Joona), Copenhagen, Denmark (Tapani), and Helsinki, Finland (Olavi), but the unit has never sounded so together as one, and as adventurous as on "Both Only".
"Both Only" by Joona Toivanen Trio is a cocoon, a welcoming shelter of sound that opens up naturally for the listener to inhabit. The album is moody and introspective, even dark at times, but by the time you get to the closing track, "This and This", you'll likely notice something hopeful brewing up. This is not music dealing with nostalgia or a world lost. Instead, it's a body of work with delicate dynamics, taking a minute just to listen and to look inwards to learn something, to move forward.
The first single "Enlightened" is perhaps the most traditional piece on the album, yet it flows like a vessel beyond genre, conveying a mood, a feeling and an idea. Listen to how the piano, bass and drums discuss, how the groove moves with the instruments having their clear roles but also supporting each other and documenting a musical aging process exactly as that of a quality bottle of red wine. As a song like "Direction" proves, the melody is there all the way, yet there is nothing obvious about how it's carried by the trio. Things remain surprising, fresh and moving at all times. "Except For" keeps its intensity, while nearly erupting into a full on 4-to-the-floor banger. Nearly! The key here is how the energy sustains itself, building the intensity within the music.
"Both Only" is a powerful statement from a band ready to renew itself time and again, and one willing to do it slowly, outside of the hype. This process makes the impact enduring, nuanced and lovely.
WJLP37 Joona Toivanen Trio "Both Only" is available on vinyl as a black vinyl edition and as a LP+7" bundle also including WJ0716 "Except For (7" Edit)" / "Keyboard Study No. 2".
“More excellent poetic soundscapes from We Jazz! Love the flow through the tracks here – textural pieces moving into more rhythmic jazz abstractions. Beautifully recorded too.”
Quinton Scott — Worldwide FM
“Following on from the excellent Linda Fredriksson album We Jazz extend the journey with this innovative Joona Toivanen Trio set.”
Paul Bradshaw — Straight No Chaser
“You’ll look in vain here for extravagant splashes of color or bright swathes of sound, but what you will discover are a finely-chiselled set of compositions that make the most of the trio’s limited palette: flint-sharp melodies hewn from the ice, crisp and crackling rhythms.”
Cal Gibson — Ban Ban Ton Ton
“Incredible album from Joona Toivanen Trio and a strong start to the new year from We Jazz.”
Kerem Gokmen — Dubmission
“Encapsulating a new movement in jazz.”
Jay Scarlett — Sounds Supreme
“Interesting listen on the shortest day of the year. They have a very definite and saturated style.”
John Chacona — All About Jazz
“Airplayed the track”
Tom Ravenscroft — BBC6 Music
“Jazz album of the year released already in February?”
Ralf Sandell — Hufvudstadsbladet
“★★★★★”
Iida Simes — Voima Magazine
Gilmer’s first release came out in 2015, called ‘Brain Poacher’ on Lobster Theremin. Showcasing a production style taht lands between Ancient Methods, Sandwell district and a more rugged version of the live-orientated Karen Sound. Keeping the Rhythms and grooves undulating under booted foot. The next year after the nuclear arms test that was the ‘Brain Poacher’, Gilmer returns to the lobster family via Lucid, Murky sub-label Mörk with his second record called ‘Lost Tapes’. Taking a much more languid and contemplative approach to his follow up. ‘Lost Tapes’ finds itself washed ashore on waves of warm, translucent, salt-infused techno and house giving his next release the opportunity to make his debut in Turbo Recordings with a foour track EP called ‘Baker Shit Ton’. After releasing on Lobster Theremin and Turbo, Gilmer Galibard launches his own imprint ‘Gilmer Galibard Records’. This project is a pure expression of his personal experiences and stories through music and visual art using each release as a timeline of his life. The concept of the label is also to explore boundaries of introspective musical experiences, taking sound design as a way to connect with his body and soul. These tracks were written in a period of uncertainty and a s big change in Gilmer, seeking powerful change in his life and his music. Inspired by Austin Osman Spare and his book ‘Book of Pleasure’ Gilmer gave birth to Novaturient, to honour that important moment of his life. Novaturient (Rainforest Spiritual DUB) is the first track of GIL01 and delivers almost over 7 minutes worth of deep harmonics and metallic textures, manifesting Gilmer’s own sound design. Even though the core ideology remains correlative. B-Sides Komorebi (Getwaway To The Sun Mix) creates its own identity by venturing into a deep industrial techno with drops of light and hope accompanied by an organic percussion through the track. All tracks produced written and Mixed by Gilmer Galibard
Home Again Records push forward presenting their 4th release, this time welcoming label affiliate Sandilé. The Cologne based artist has become notable for her eclectic sound which is reflective of her background appreciation of broken beat, UKG and the musical essence of London, as well as warm funk and soul. This limitless exploration of genre is perfectly depicted on Home Again 04 which is her debut release for the Berlin label, the EP features 3 originals plus a remix from house mainstay Malin Genie.
The EP kicks off with the fast paced four-to-the-floor ‘Bossbias’, featuring classic house vocals and skippy high hats, interestingly the track originated as a collaboration between Sandile and UKG hero Zed Bias, hence the title reference. Found on the flip side is ‘Sista From Da Block’, a dreamscape of liquid jungle fused with soulful jazz vocals, whilst on the B-side ‘Trayvon’ offers a deeper head-down club track that unfolds inspirational male vocals, bouncy undertones and an
uplifting whistle throughout the body of the track. Malin Genie re-jigs ‘Trayvon’ layering up with some retro feels on the B2 completing the package.
‘Everyone’s now getting back on the dancefloor...house music without dancing and people coming together sure had a different taste. I guess it’s the perfect timing for my first Home Again release, because it sure does feel like I’m finally coming home again!’ – says Sandilé
- 1: Panspermie
- 2: No One Around
- 3: Blob On The Lawn
- 4: The Gardener
- 5: They Shoot Horses
- 6: Blob Lands
- 7: Sisyphus
- 8: Perseids
- 9: Anabolic Alien
- 10: Magnetic Kiss
- 11: Alien Lullaby
- 12: Pink Pool
- 13: Meat Carpet
- 14: Liminal Ménage À Trois
- 15: Wraith
- 16: Gerasene Demoniac
- 17: Crawling Tentacles
- 18: Venutian Offspring
- 19: Face Sponged
- 20: Xenomorph Killing
- 21: Chasing Heather
- 22: Chasing Dee
- 23: O! Bad Shot
- 24: Black Matter Tears
- 25: Squid Lady
- 26: Leonids' Temple
Lucrecia Dalt’s debut film score to ‘The Seed’, a sci-fi horror
film directed by Sam Walker on Shudder.
Pressed on black vinyl and housed in a deluxe spined sleeve
with printed insert with digital download card included.
“The score is heavily based on pulses that I made from tape
loops from my Copicat tape delay, using various pieces of
metal to create the sound of the horror parts by bowing them
alongside digital synths and the Korg Monologue.” - Lucrecia
Dalt
“I wanted to play with the feeling of multiple paces in it, a
voice pulse that keeps us grounded in the subjectivities of
the women who are losing their sanity, a synth line that
places us in the sci-fi side of the film,” she explains.
‘The Seed’’s release follows the Colombian artist’s
collaboration with Aaron Dilloway, Lucy & Aaron, her
acclaimed 2020 album ‘No era sólida’ (RVNG Intl), a site
specific performance for the Mies van der Rohe Pavilion in
Barcelona, plus sound installations for CTM Festival and
Medellín’s Museum of Modern Art. Often seeking inspiration
in the worlds of fiction, poetry, geology and desire,
excavating nuanced references to untangle and respond to
in her music, Dalt’s debut score is incredible stand-alone
piece of work.
In ‘The Seed’, lifelong friends Deidre (Lucy Martin / Vikings),
Heather (Sophie Vavasseur / Resident Evil: Apocalypse) and
Charlotte (Chelsea Edge / I Hate Suzie) travel to the Mojave
Desert for some time away, with the upcoming meteor
shower as the perfect social media backdrop. But what starts
out as a girls’ getaway descends into a battle for survival with
the arrival of an invasive alien force whose air of mystery
soon proves to be alluring and irresistible to them.
„Worldwide Underground“ ist das dritte Studio-Album der amerikanischen Sängerin Erykah Badu und wurde erstmals am 16. September 2003 von Motown Records veröffentlicht. Das Album enthält HipHop- und Funk-Elemente und zeichnet sich durch eine unkonventionelle musikalische Struktur und ein minimalistisches Songwriting aus, dass sich mit der Hip-Hop-Kultur, der Liebe, dem Leben im Ghetto und der Gang-Kultur befasst. Auf dem Album treten die Rapper Dead Prez und Common sowie die Sängerinnen Queen Latifah, Bahamadia und Angie Stone auf.
Am 25. Februar erscheint „Worldwide Underground“ als Deep Purple Coloured 1LP.
Fortuna reissues an incredible Greek belly dance scorcher by little known artist Koko. Following the Israeli Greek-craze of the '60s and '70s, Moroccan singer Koko learned how to sing in Greek and delivered this tavern-style party masterpiece. Organs seer through hard drums and pounding bass while Koko's deep voice guides through the evocative world of Greek Tsifteteli. For lovers of Aris San and Levitros.
After more than two decades flexing his muscles on the local underground scene and gaining a legendary cult status on his Tenerife home turf, the island’s most famous postman, as he’s affectionately known by his consorts, Tomás de la Rosa aka Postman breaks radio silence to bulldoze his way through the canyons surrounding his hometown of Santa Cruz into an unknown and unsuspecting world. We present thus, Postman’s first ever album of original bangers, micro chopped two steppers and rage induced breakbeat anthems.
Constructed over the course of global confinement, Seeds of Light marks a return to creative activity from the man who regularly delivers your post (its not just a random artist name). Postman aka Tomás de la Rosa has taken his time, compiling sketches and unfinished songs, rummaging through the deep ends of his hardrive, stitching early production sketches with recent compositions, revising, reediting and rebuilding with a more mature and concise attitude, eventually completing, almost unintentionally, the perfect self referential retrospective album. Far from being just a compilation album, Tomás managed to create an explosive document, suspended in time, in which styles are intertwined regardless of fashions and fads – letting go of the ‘modern’ or ‘up to date’ burden - so common these days in electronic music.
It is not an easy album, like many of his previous work it demands extra attention to experience the full crystallization of his complex sound structures. We find ourselves in front of a truly surgically precise work of art whose result comes as a waterproof war machine, refined and incisive, resonating deep with soul and groove.
Postman develops his sound palette throughout the album from very basic sound snippets into a concrete dance world of synthetic sounds eventually creating a parallel reality where J. Dilla could be living in Chemnitz instead of Detroit and releasing records for a label called Raster-Throw. Glitch sampladelics!
Incursions into Grime are also abundant with nods to the ineffable East Man, reunions with his beloved Funkstörung or many other stimulating revisions of lifelong genres and breaks populate this multidimensional sound space, see soul, dancehall, breakbeat, two step and the UK hardcore continuum.
Special mention to the magnificent fluid artwork by the very talented Catalan visual artist Alba de Corral. A still photo from one of her kinetic AI systems programmed directly in code, which matches perfectly the essence of Postman's brutalist alien sound.
Vinyl limited to 200 copies
These sides from 1970s band Smith & Gordera are prototypical for the "Sounds Like Santana" genre coined at the Friends of Sound record store in Austin, TX years ago. Heavy Latin Rock fusion on these tracks with just a pinch of Jazz thrown in for good measure.
"Evil Deeds" starts right into it the moment the needle hits the groove on your turntable - heavy organ, percussion, shakers, and guitar all greet your ears. Moving into the track you get the typical shredding guitar solo, organ solo, and a sax solo, for good measure.
"Time and Space" starts with a nod to the classic Dave Brubeck "Take Five" and continues on an adventure into a more psychedelic groove and more of a Rock vibe. Time changes and tempo shifts and big solos round out the side.
Part of IF Music founder Jean-Claude’s ever expanding ‘YOU NEED THIS!’ series of compilation albums, the London record shop impresario and DJ takes us on another scintillating musical journey, this time exploring the catalogue of German jazz imprint, Enja Records. Like Jean-Claude’s ‘Journey Into Deep Jazz’ series on BBE Music and his 2017 exploration of Black Saint & Soul Note Records before it, ‘IF MUSIC PRESENTS YOU NEED THIS!: AN INTRODUCTION TO ENJA RECORDS’ provides another impeccably curated and programmed selection of music, assembled by simply one of the most knowledgeable and passionate vinyl specialists in the business. Featuring performances by John Stubblefield, Bobby Hutcherson, Harold Land, Don Cherry, Cecil McBee and Pharoah Sanders collaborator Marvin Hannibal Peterson to name but a few, this collection provides a great jumping-off point for Enja’s rich and diverse back catalogue. Founded in 1971 by Munich natives and jazz obsessives Matthias Winckelmann and Horst Weber, in its heyday Enja released albums by Eric Dolphy, Charles Mingus, Tommy Flanagan and John Scofield, as well as Kenny Barron, Chet Baker, Abbey Lincoln, Bea Benjamin, Freddie Hubbard, to name but a few. Having firmly established itself as “a bastion of all things deep in jazz” as Jean-Claude neatly sums up, Enja also went on to issue early World Music projects from Abdullah Ibrahim, Rabih Abou-Khalil, Mahmoud Turkmani and many others, and it remains active to this day. “There is no doubt that to the uninitiated, a compilation introducing such an esteemed archive is well overdue” says Jean-Claude. “As with previous albums curated by us, this is just a soupçon of this label’s vast back catalogue, which we hope will lead the listener to discover new music and to search out more from this criminally underrated, class act.”
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