quête:say anything

*The product of a move from South Carolina to Berkeley, CA and the subsequent extended separation from loved ones, Toro Y Moi's third full-length, Anything in Return, puts Chaz Bundick right in the middle of the producer/songwriter dichotomy that his first two albums established.

*There's a pervasive sense of peace with his tendency to dabble in both sides of the modern music-making spectrum, and he sounds comfortable engaging in intuitive pop production and putting forth the impression of unmediated id.

*The producer's hand is prominent- not least in the sampled "yeah"s and "uh"s that give the album a hip-hop-indebted confidence- and many of the songs feature the 4/4 beats and deftly employed effects usually associated with house music. Tracks like "High Living" and "Day One" show a considerably Californian influence, their languid funk redolent of a West Coast temperament, and elsewhere- not least on lead single, "So Many Details"- the record plays with darker atmospheres than we're used to hearing from Toro Y Moi. Sounding quite assured in what some may call this songwriter's return to producer-hood, Anything in Return is Bundick uninhibited by issues of genre, an album that feels like the artist's essence.

*Born and raised in Columbia, South Carolina, Chaz Bundick has been toying with various musical projects since early adolescence. Having spent his formative years playing in punk and indie rock acts, his protean Toro Y Moi project has been his vessel for further musical exploration since 2001. During his time spent studying graphic design at the University of South Carolina, Chaz became increasingly focused on his solo work, incorporating electronics and allowing a wider range of influences- French house, Brian Wilson's pop, 80s R&B, and Stones Throw hip-hop- to show up in his music. By the time he graduated in spring 2009, Chaz had refined his sound to something all his own. Music journals across the board touted his hazy recordings as the sound of the summer, and he released his debut album, Causers of This in early 2010.

*Since then, Bundick has proven himself to be not just a prolific musician, but a diverse one as well, letting each successive release broaden the scope of the Toro Y Moi oeuvre. The funky psych-pop of 2011's Underneath the Pine evinced an artist who could create similar atmospheres even without the aid of source material and drum machines. His Freaking Out EP, a handful of singles and remixes, and a retrospective box-set plot points all along the producer/songwriter spectrum in which he's worked since his debut, and Anything In Return is another exciting offering that shows he's still not ready to settle into any one genre.

3 Feet High and Rising is the debut studio album by hip hop trio De La Soul and was released on March 3, 1989

It marked the first of three full- length collaborations with producer Prince Paul, which would become the critical and commercial peak of both parties. Critically, as well as commercially, the album was a success. It contains the singles, "Me Myself and I", "The Magic Number", "Buddy", and "Eye Know".

The album title came from the Johnny Cash song "Five Feet High and Rising". It is listed on Rolling Stone's 200 Essential Rock Records and The Source's 100 Best Rap Albums. When Village Voice held its annual Pazz & Jop Critics Poll for 1989, 3 Feet High and Rising was ranked #1. It was also listed on the Rolling Stone's

The 500 Greatest Albums of All Time. Released amid the 1989 boom in gangsta rap, which gravitated towards hardcore, confrontational, violent lyrics, De La Soul's uniquely positive style made them an oddity beginning with the first single, "Me, Myself and I". Their positivity meant many observers labeled them a 'hippie' group, based on their declaration of the 'D.A.I.S.Y. Age' (Da. Inner. Soul. Yall).

Sampling artists as diverse as Hall & Oates, Steely Dan and The Turtles, 3 Feet High and Rising is often viewed as the stylistic beginning of 1990s alternative hip hop (and especially jazz rap).

A pivotal record for contemporary times; bright, free, adamant, optimistic. Brain Worms is RVG's fullest, most pristine album yet. All throughout Brain Worms, it's apparent that this is a band in very fine form. Album opener 'Common Ground' sets the tone for what's to come; a shiny, thrilling, punch of an album, with all the beloved RVG hallmarks. Vager's voice is unfiltered and commanding as ever when delivering her clever, not-quite-ironic lyrics. Here, though, those lyrics feel so much less resigned to yearning, and so much more defiant and joyous. 'Tambourine' is the only Covid song Vager wrote when "trying not to write Covid songs", and it's a painfully honest portrait of grieving mid-isolation. 'Brain Worms' tells the all-too-familiar story of a person falling down the internet rabbit hole and finding comfort in conspiracies. 'Nothing Really Changes' is a keys-heavy new wave-ish thing, while closer 'Tropic of Cancer' sparkles with Vager's self-assured new manifesto: I know what I'm like, and I know how I get. If you think I'm strange, you ain't seen nothin' yet. Bloxham, Nolte, and Wallace are flawlessly adept in bringing Vager's songwriting to life. Recorded in London at Snap Studios with James Trevascus (Nick Cave & Warren Ellis, PJ Harvey), all ten tracks surge with lush sounds and clear intentions and the magic of an acoustic guitar once owned by Kate Bush, given to her by Tears for Fears (who, legend has it, wrote 'Everybody Wants to Rule the World' on it). Between the four bandmates lead singer and guitarist Vager, guitarist Reuben Bloxham, drummer Marc Nolte and bassist Isabele Wallace this is the most confident they've ever felt in RVG. They've moved past their influences, pushed themselves, and tried new things. And they have made a record they can, by all accounts, call their best. "Brain Worms feels like the antithesis to what a post-pandemic record could easily be. For a band who were already writing music about being reclusive "we were depressed and not going outside on our first two albums" the enforced isolation and time to think gave Vager space to write about anything she wanted. And, it turned out, she was ready to write about acceptance. "If we could only make one more album, it would be this one," says Vager. "Easily one of the most vital bands on the Aussie scene today" Rolling Stone "A calling card for outsiders... dynamic and vital post-punk" The Guardian

Baby Rose makes healing music for the aimless and heartbroken. The Grammy-nominated singer/songwriter and producer's uniquely rich voice naturally lends itself to her powerful, smoke-filled ballads lamenting lost loves and broken futures. "I make music to help myself get through things," she says. The piercing honesty and vulnerability she brings to her lyrics in turn helps others process their feelings and find a place of healing. For Rose, it's a journey that's still ongoing. "If I'm going to leave anything behind, it's going to be getting people back to themselves," she says. "As I get back to myself, it's a constant reset: Remember who you are, remember who you want to be." You can hear the impact of this approach in Baby Rose's upcoming second album, Through and Through. Take the hypnotic "Fight Club." Over the track's simmering baseline and crashing cymbals, she declares, "I don't need no one else to show me the way." She describes the song as a "breaking of the shell. It encourages me to just go for it and not care about what anyone else thinks." Therein lies Baby Rose's strength: a determination to live, love, and create on her own terms. "I'm not just a singer with a unique voice," she says. "I'm somebody that has something to say." In the years since releasing her last album, To Myself, Rose has been painstakingly piecing together its sequel. Started almost immediately after its release, her new body of work finds her in a state of musical and personal transition. It's a subtle merging of new sounds_stirring rock, upbeat r&b, psychedelic funk, pop, and soulful ballads_, all mastered through analog tape to make the music feel warmer and all-encompassing. It's also a journey inward as she battles past fear and self-doubt to finally discover_and love_who she is, where she is. Finishing an album with such peace and firm resolution is a first for Rose, but she makes it clear: She's nowhere near done writing her story. "I think as long as I'm being raw and trying to push past my comfort zone, it will feel rewarding," she says. "I don't want to be the type that doesn't take risks because I'm afraid. I have to trust that as long as the music is honest and innovative, it'll be timeless."

Their masterpiece? With breaks for dayyyyyys and an almost ambient, heavy jazz atmosphere throughout, *this* is the apex of British jazz-rock fusion. We'll Talk About It Later was first released on Vertigo in 1971 and original copies are now very tricky to score. Like all the Nucleus records, it’s aged ridiculously well and this Be With re-issue, re-mastered from the original analogue tapes, shows off just why this deserves to be back in press.

Genius trumpeter and visionary composer Ian Carr was one of the most respected British musicians of his era. He was a true pioneer and saw the potential in fusing the worlds of jazz with rock, just as Miles Davis and The Tony Williams Lifetime did in the US. In late 1969, following the demise of the Rendell-Carr quintet, and tiring of British jazz, Carr assembled the legendary Nucleus. Regarding music as a continuous process, Nucleus refused to “recognise rigid boundaries” and worked on delivering what they saw as a “total musical experience”. We can get behind that.

Under bandleader Carr, Nucleus existed as a fluid line-up of inventive, skilled musicians. This constant evolution and revolution was all part of the continuous musical exploration and discovery that took jazz to new levels. And the music has kept relevant. To steal a line from a review of our re-issue of Roots, when it comes to anything Nucleus “it’s basically already hip-hop”.

We'll Talk About It Later is arguably Nucleus's best album. Not only that, it's in the top 5 of all fusion albums. By the time Nucleus entered Trident Studios in September 1970 to record Elastic Rock's successor, they had already won a best group award at the Montreux Jazz Festival. Once again presented in a Roger Dean designed die-cut gatefold sleeve it continued to demonstrate the chemistry and interplay that worked so brilliantly on Elastic Rock; Carr's sumptuous trumpet and flügelhorn lines, Karl Jenkins's funk-filled electric keyboards, Chris Spedding's wah-wah guitar, Brian Smith's sax and the rhythmic foundation of drummer John Marshall and bassist Jeff Clyne.

The group work and insane musicianship Nucleus were famed for is in evidence from the off. The intensely funky "Song for the Bearded Lady" is absolute FIRE, blasting out the speakers to leave listeners floored. Counterpoint riffing segues into a spacious groove and a Carr trumpet solo demonstrating the influence of electric Miles from the period. The stop-start funk of "Sun Child" would appeal to Soft Machine devotees whilst the genuinely touching "Lullaby for a Lonely Child" is a lovely downtempo ballad. Featuring an understated, reflective horn line from Carr and Smith and atmospheric, shimmering bouzouki from Spedding, there's an exotic flavour which contributes to the bliss. The ominous, sleazy title track retains a swaggering menace and is not the only track to lend a sort of heavy stoner rock atmosphere. The guitars and bass are deep and low throughout, conjuring heavy psych moments to go with the actual jazz and even funk. To say this album was in conversation with Bitches Brew would not be overstating the sheer brain-frying brilliance.

The Weather Report-adjacent "Oasis" opens Side B, a colossal track featuring nearly 10 minutes of steadily building melodic horns, keys and choppy guitar riffs. So ace, it could easily go on for another 10. Mesmeric. Spedding adds unique vocals to the undeniable groove of "Ballad of Joe Pimp" whilst saxophonist Smith's duet with drummer Marshall at the conclusion of "Easter 1916" - inspired by the Yeats poem about the Irish nationalist uprising in Dublin - adopts the wildness of the most incendiary free jazz.

This Be With edition of We'll Talk About It Later has been re-mastered from the original Vertigo master tapes, Simon Francis’ mastering working together with Cicely Balston's cut at AIR Studios to weave their usual magic with these wonderful recordings. The stunning die-cut sleeve has been restored with the original gatefold window pane depicting the Irish uprising in 1916. Incredible, timeless, guaranteed spine-chills.

BRIT Award-winning, multi-platinum selling musician George Ezra today announces his hugely anticipated new album Gold Rush Kid, due for release on 10th June via Columbia Records.

“The Gold Rush Kid? That’s me,” says George, reflecting on the title of his third record – a 12-strong suite of marvellous, transporting, elevational songs, that more than anything “sound like me. That’s what ties them together.”

After two blockbuster albums – Wanted On Voyage (2014) and Staying At Tamara’s (2018), both of which reached number 1 in the UK and sold millions around the world, and the latter of which earned him his first number 1 single in ‘Shotgun’ and won him the 2019 Brit Award for British Male Solo Artist – it was time to return to heart and hearth, with an album written and produced entirely in London with longstanding collaborator Joel Pott.

lack Marble Vinyl! High Vis were formed in 2016 from the ashes of some of the UK's best hardcore bands. Gild-toothed frontman Graham Sayle's anguished lyrics about life in working class Britain were familiar to fans of Tremors' full-throttle thrash, but alongside his former bandmate Edward `Ski' Harper and veterans of Dirty Money, DiE and The Smear, High Vis sought to transform that energy and intensity into something entirely new.Like scene-mates Chubby and the Gang did by pulling in unlikely source material from classic doo-wop or Micromoon have by combining everything from psychedelia and metal into their high potency mix, High Vis' 2019 debut album, No Sense No Feeling showed the band were never going to be constrained by any sense of genre rules or regulations. Its claustrophobic rattle bore traces of Joy Division, Bauhaus, Crisis, The Cure and Gang Of Four lurking in the shadows. 2020's synth-driven EP, Society Exists, was further evidence of the band's restless creative MO.High Vis' second album Blending sees them open their viewfinder wider than ever before.

Alongside longstanding favourites such as Fugazi and Echo and The Bunnymen; Ride and even Flock Of Seagulls were shared reference points as the band worked on the album together.From the anthemic sweep of opener "Talk For Hours", through the title track's psychedelic swirl and "Fever Dream"'s baggy groove, it sees High Vis' sound blossoming into something with an unlimited richness. The hazy drift of "Shame" or the melodic jangle of "Trauma Bonds" may take them until uncharted waters, but they still have all the power and bite that made No Sense No Feeling so remarkable.Lyrically, the album represents another leap forward too. Talking frankly about poverty, class politics, and the challenges of everyday life, Sayle's lyrics have always addressed the downtrodden and discarded communities across Britain slipping below the waterline. This time around, Sayle's lost not of that social consciousness, but he's looked at himself and his own emotional landscape, and in the process created something that feels more universal, that reaches a hand-out to people and ultimately gives a message of hope."To me, the lyrics are less selfish," reflects Sayle. "In the past, I couldn't see past whatever was going on with me.

It's about accepting things and being open to conversations and learning to talk to people rather than just thinking that we're all doomed."The song "Talk for Hours" is a prime example of that. Born out of an afternoon meeting up with an old group of mates "repeating the same thing and not actually learning anything about each other" it offers to actually break the cycle and to listen and speak frankly about shared feelings and experiences. "Trauma Bonds", meanwhile, traces the broken lines of those living in lost communities, but ultimately realises that despite our shared scars, there's still hope to move on to a better future."The message of the album is you're not who you're told you are," Sayle summarises. "You're not your class background. Whatever it is, you're not that. Don't resign yourself to thinking you can't be this and you can't be that."It's a vitally important message right now, and one that could be the motto for not only Blending, but for High Vis themselves.

She’s out of this world…

Maltese musician & producer Joon’s galactic debut arrives on our shores fully formed a decade after she first set sail. 12 cuts of uniquely addictive Synthesized Pop twist & turn on the rocky waters of life.

Her story begins after a life-changing car crash on the streets of Malta many moons ago. She was lucky to walk away in one piece. “That car crash was a wake-up call,” she says. “It made me realize how precious life is & I started living the life I felt was worth living.” Inspired to finally pursue her love of music full time, she began collecting instruments. Starting with a Stylophone& a vintage rhythm box, she started documenting ideas. Returning home to Malta after a few years in London, she only met one other woman making electronic music on the island. Driven by the desire to make music possible & accessible for the next generation, Joon co-founded the Malta Sound Women’s Network.

Ten years later, she sends us messages in a bottle from across the Mediterranean Sea. Armed with a Moog & her ethereal voice, she transmits hope & joy from a bedroom somewhere between Sicily & North Africa. Her music is right at home alongside outsider pioneers like Fever Ray, Grimes, Laurie Anderson & Molly Nilsson. Dream Again glides across heavy rhythms & eclectic electro. Telling stories of alienation with a throbbing heartbeat & space-age melodies, she lets us into her ultra-vivid world where anything is possible. Produced by Johnny Jewel, the album shines bright like comet orbiting the label’s dark sky, a much-needed vision of light on the horizon.

“Even if I’m sad or heartbroken, I remain optimistic. I want to grow old with no regrets.”

It’s time to Dream Again…

When we established Balmat in 2021, neither of us could have imagined that within two years, we’d be putting out an album by one of our musical heroes: Mike Paradinas, aka µ-Ziq. The British producer has been an inspiration to label co-founders Albert Salinas and Philip Sherburne since the 1990s. In fact, his album-length remix project The Auteurs Vs µ-Ziq was one of the very first pieces of electronic music that Philip bought, way back in 1994. To have the opportunity to release his music now feels like a real full-circle moment.

Paradinas, of course, needs no introduction. Under a slew of aliases, chief among them µ-Ziq, the British artist revolutionized leftfield electronic music in the 1990s—coincidentally, this year marks the 30th anniversary of his debut album, Tango N’ Vectif, for his friend and sometime collaborator Aphex Twin’s Rephlex label—and his label Planet Mu has built up a formidable catalog of visionary, forwardlooking records, mapping virtually every corner of the electronic spectrum. With 1977, he turns the clock backward in a sense, and not just with the album’s title: Rooted in classic ambient and electronic sounds, these 15 tracks evoke the anything-goes spirit of the early ’90s, before the tools and tropes had calcified into cut-and-dried styles.

There’s no shortage of familiar sounds on 1977. There are echoes of raves and chillout rooms and transmissions from the fringes of techno; there are detuned synths and glistening reverb tails and, above all, gauzy vox pads, the eerie glue that holds it all together. The title, he says, is meant to invoke a general sense of nostalgia, bookmarking a year in his boyhood when he became more selfaware. More than anything, 1977 sounds like µ-Ziq distilled: Stripped of his signature breakbeats and customary chaos, Paradinas’ first-ever strictly (well, mostly) ambient album presents the essence of his music in a whole new light.

Along the way Paradinas touches on dark-ambient drones (“Marmite”), horror-film themes (“Belt & Carpet”), jungle breaks (“Mesolithic Jungle”), and even house music (“Houzz 13”), which marks the first bona fide dance-floor moment on Balmat to date). Yet the album never—to our ears, anyway— feels expressly retro. Rather, Paradinas plucks timeless sounds out of the ether and gives them a gentle tap, spinning them into unexpected new orbits. At times, 1977 feels like an experience of extended déjà vu: When we first listened to it, we had the sense that we already knew this music. It was as though we had heard it years ago, perhaps on a battered cassette tape lent to us by a friend, and been searching for it ever since. We hope you feel the same.

Everything eventually turns to dust. Everyone knows this, but few want to acknowledge that our time on this mortal coil is fleeting, preferring to remain in stasis, in hopes that "the end" will pass them by. Chicago trio FACS (guitarist Brian Case, bassist Alianna Kalaba & drummer Noah Leger) have been perfecting their brand of intense, cathartic post-punk over the course of four ever-evolving albums, beginning with 2017's "Negative Houses" thru 2021's landmark "Present Tense', which saw the trio dig deep into the gaping maw of a black hole & pulling back whatever debris they could grasp onto. Their newest "Still Life In Decay" comes as an addendum to the last album - a "post-event review" if you will. "Still Life In Decay" starts with a squall of white noise before collapsing into the band already locked into "Constellation"s lumbering groove, with Case's guitar a ghostly presence, appearing & disappearing in washes of gauzy feedback throughout the track. FACS have never been more locked in as a unit, and "Still Life In Decay" is a decidedly more focused effort. The apocalyptic chaos that defined their previous album "Present Tense" is waved away in favor of an examination of events with cumbrous clarity. FACS are a heavy band, but they don't necessarily FEEL like one (see side two's "Still Life", where Case's fluttering, melodic guitar lines are buoyed by the insistent, underlying pulse of the bass & drums). As a rhythm section, Kalaba & Leger dance & twist around each other like a double helix, forming the DNA of what makes FACS special. Collectively they approach rhythm from outside the groove as opposed to inside it, creating a lattice where Case weaves guitar lines like creeping vines, which makes the moments on "Still Life In Decay" where the band DOES lock in even more powerful. When the guitar punctures the lock-step swing of "When You Say", it hits like a hammer. Case utilizes his lyrics like a person suffering from anterograde amnesia; repeating phrases & holding onto old memories in a desperate attempt to avoid the slide into oblivion. Freeform poetic missives touching on themes of resignation, cynicism, class warfare, and a search for identity & meaning in a crumbling society; A primal desire to hold onto anything in a post-pandemic barrage of sensory overload. The album is a decidedly local affair; recorded once again at Chicago's famed Electrical Audio by renowned engineer Sanford Parker & mixed at his Hypercube Studio in Chicago's Ravenswood neighborhood & mastered by Matthew Barnhart at Chicago Mastering Service.

Everything eventually turns to dust. Everyone knows this, but few want to acknowledge that our time on this mortal coil is fleeting, preferring to remain in stasis, in hopes that "the end" will pass them by. Chicago trio FACS (guitarist Brian Case, bassist Alianna Kalaba & drummer Noah Leger) have been perfecting their brand of intense, cathartic post-punk over the course of four ever-evolving albums, beginning with 2017's "Negative Houses" thru 2021's landmark "Present Tense', which saw the trio dig deep into the gaping maw of a black hole & pulling back whatever debris they could grasp onto. Their newest "Still Life In Decay" comes as an addendum to the last album - a "post-event review" if you will. "Still Life In Decay" starts with a squall of white noise before collapsing into the band already locked into "Constellation"s lumbering groove, with Case's guitar a ghostly presence, appearing & disappearing in washes of gauzy feedback throughout the track. FACS have never been more locked in as a unit, and "Still Life In Decay" is a decidedly more focused effort. The apocalyptic chaos that defined their previous album "Present Tense" is waved away in favor of an examination of events with cumbrous clarity. FACS are a heavy band, but they don't necessarily FEEL like one (see side two's "Still Life", where Case's fluttering, melodic guitar lines are buoyed by the insistent, underlying pulse of the bass & drums). As a rhythm section, Kalaba & Leger dance & twist around each other like a double helix, forming the DNA of what makes FACS special. Collectively they approach rhythm from outside the groove as opposed to inside it, creating a lattice where Case weaves guitar lines like creeping vines, which makes the moments on "Still Life In Decay" where the band DOES lock in even more powerful. When the guitar punctures the lock-step swing of "When You Say", it hits like a hammer. Case utilizes his lyrics like a person suffering from anterograde amnesia; repeating phrases & holding onto old memories in a desperate attempt to avoid the slide into oblivion. Freeform poetic missives touching on themes of resignation, cynicism, class warfare, and a search for identity & meaning in a crumbling society; A primal desire to hold onto anything in a post-pandemic barrage of sensory overload. The album is a decidedly local affair; recorded once again at Chicago's famed Electrical Audio by renowned engineer Sanford Parker & mixed at his Hypercube Studio in Chicago's Ravenswood neighborhood & mastered by Matthew Barnhart at Chicago Mastering Service.

Everything eventually turns to dust. Everyone knows this, but few want to acknowledge that our time on this mortal coil is fleeting, preferring to remain in stasis, in hopes that "the end" will pass them by. Chicago trio FACS (guitarist Brian Case, bassist Alianna Kalaba & drummer Noah Leger) have been perfecting their brand of intense, cathartic post-punk over the course of four ever-evolving albums, beginning with 2017's "Negative Houses" thru 2021's landmark "Present Tense', which saw the trio dig deep into the gaping maw of a black hole & pulling back whatever debris they could grasp onto. Their newest "Still Life In Decay" comes as an addendum to the last album - a "post-event review" if you will. "Still Life In Decay" starts with a squall of white noise before collapsing into the band already locked into "Constellation"s lumbering groove, with Case's guitar a ghostly presence, appearing & disappearing in washes of gauzy feedback throughout the track. FACS have never been more locked in as a unit, and "Still Life In Decay" is a decidedly more focused effort. The apocalyptic chaos that defined their previous album "Present Tense" is waved away in favor of an examination of events with cumbrous clarity. FACS are a heavy band, but they don't necessarily FEEL like one (see side two's "Still Life", where Case's fluttering, melodic guitar lines are buoyed by the insistent, underlying pulse of the bass & drums). As a rhythm section, Kalaba & Leger dance & twist around each other like a double helix, forming the DNA of what makes FACS special. Collectively they approach rhythm from outside the groove as opposed to inside it, creating a lattice where Case weaves guitar lines like creeping vines, which makes the moments on "Still Life In Decay" where the band DOES lock in even more powerful. When the guitar punctures the lock-step swing of "When You Say", it hits like a hammer. Case utilizes his lyrics like a person suffering from anterograde amnesia; repeating phrases & holding onto old memories in a desperate attempt to avoid the slide into oblivion. Freeform poetic missives touching on themes of resignation, cynicism, class warfare, and a search for identity & meaning in a crumbling society; A primal desire to hold onto anything in a post-pandemic barrage of sensory overload. The album is a decidedly local affair; recorded once again at Chicago's famed Electrical Audio by renowned engineer Sanford Parker & mixed at his Hypercube Studio in Chicago's Ravenswood neighborhood & mastered by Matthew Barnhart at Chicago Mastering Service.

Balancing traditionally timeless grit with 21st century gusto, Judiciary hammer out hardcore grooves at breakneck thrash speeds. The Texas quintet—Jake Collinson vocals, Kyle Calfin [bass], Austin Looney [drums], Jimmy LaDue [guitar], and Israel Garza [guitar]—wield a searing signature style unlike anything in heavy music. With calculated intensity, it bludgeons without compromise, draws back for a breath, and strikes again even harder. Piling up millions of streams and inciting the applause of Stereogum, Revolver, and more, the group perfects this incendiary hybrid of metal and hardcore on their 2023 second full-length LP, Flesh + Blood [Closed Casket Activities]. “It’s a mashup of old school heavy metal with contemporary energy,” says Kyle. “We didn’t just change anything for the sake of change—we’ve elevated everything in every way.

First things first - you don't need me to tell you about the significance of Australia in the history of punk. I mean, what am I, Jon Savage? Google it yourself, FFS. Instead, let's just agree that the speedy, feral racket thrown together by the likes of The Saints, Radio Birdman and The Scientists in the mid-late '70s is AT LEAST as deliriously entertaining as anything concocted by their UK/US counterparts, sowing the seeds for seemingly endless garage-inflected noisemakers in the land down under. No one likes using words like 'tradition' or 'heritage' here - the punk rock clusterbomb is far too messy for any of that business - but also emerging from Australian rock's primordial soup is the addictive sneer of Stiff Richards. Like their predecessors, the band are a gleefully wracked mess of full throttle energy and barrelling power chords, with songs like 'Kids Out On The Grass' and 'Point of You' proving at least the equal of '(I'm) Stranded' or 'Aloha Steve And Danno'. Nine tracks in less than 30 minutes, all winners and all determined to leave you flipping over couches and smashing your TV set. And let's face it, you may as well; there's nothing good on. It all builds towards frantic closer 'Fill In The Blanks', which rattles around your speakers like the UK Subs trying to play Ed Kuepper riffs at the centre of an earthquake, before grinding to a halt as a voice says, "That's the one." Does it sound self-satisfied? Hey, it's got good reason to - this is the best no-frills garage rock party since Gino & The Goons' 'Do The Get Around', and the only appropriate response is to declare yourself betrothed to Stiff Richards because you can't imagine your life without 'em. Don't believe me? Sort out your ears and get 'State Of Mind' in 'em. Rock'n'roll as it's supposed to be played. Will Fitzpatrick.

180g clear vinyl. This is for Indies only. Milan/London experimental band Throw Down Bones are returning with their new album 'Three' on February 24th. A towering body of work that feels both apocalyptic and jubilant, 'Three' is Throw Down Bones' eagerly-awaited return following 2018's 'Two' and the tragic passing of founding member Dave Cocks in a motorcycle accident in 2019. Choosing to continue the band in honour of Cocks, in February 2020, surviving co-founder Francesco Vanni returned to London's New River Studios with long-term collaborator and producer James Aparicio (Spiritualized, Nick Cave) and a new band in tow, made up of bassist Marion Andrau and drummer Raphael Mura. Working in the studio with the new band for the first time, several hours of improvised recordings were captured over the course of those early New River sessions, which were then expanded and pieced together between Aparicio in London and Vanni in Milan. Ready to lacerate eardrums and send into a trance once more, the result is a 9-track album spanning feedback-blasted industrial psychedelia, heavy electronics, krautrock and dark ambient. Overcoming huge psychological and practical difficulties, 'Three' is a powerful and moving record in more ways than one - a post-industrial triumph that's at once hedonistic, cathartic and poignant. Describing 'Three' and its intentions, Vanni says: "This album tries to reverse the usual band-listener interaction. We hold no truth and we're not willing to serve any universal answers to anything. Instead, we question the listener who, according to their experiences and sensitivity, will find a reply for themselves. That's the role of instrumental music and why we love it so much. It brings the listener to the centre of the project, giving them an active role in translating music into meaning. Every single note in this album is dedicated to our brother Dave Cocks."

Felte Records presents `Glimpse Of Heaven' - a stunning new album by the Hawaii-born, LA-based musician, singer, producer and professional mastering engineer Jess Labrador, AKA Chasms. Labrador's deeply personal work as Chasms has always felt like an unveiling. Following 2019's `The Mirage,' which was a dark, dubby meditation on grief and loss, this new album is both familiar and different. The third full-length under the Chasms name, `Glimpse of Heaven' trades in washes of reverb for starker moments of closeness and intimacy. An exploration of the personal inventory and reckoning necessary to move forward in life, the LP considers not only how we relate to the world, but more importantly how we relate to ourselves. While always distinct, you could previously detect post-punk, shoegaze, and dub sensibilities in the music. Dreamy drift tethered by skittered beats, airy vocals, and melancholic melodies are here like previous efforts too. However, at the same time, Labrador steps into new territory with an expanse of vaporous synths and samples, adding to the project's ethereal electronic pop and dubwise pulse. Lush guitars glisten throughout the album, but this time only in sparse, disciplined embellishments. `Glimpse of Heaven' is a fully realised version of Chasms beyond its influences; to say that this is a seamless evocation of such disparate sounds as Massive Attack, Basic Chanel, Sade, Seefeel and Dif Juz is to say it is wholly unique. While she continues to unfurl her thoughts, there is a shift from opening up to the listener toward allowing the listener to witness her opening to herself. Where the last Chasms record was about various kinds of collapse, `Glimpse of Heaven' is about trying to develop as a whole person. It seems to ultimately be asking whether what we want and what we need align in ways that will get us where we want to be. Can we let go of the comfort of bad habits and steer ourselves toward a less easily obtained but maybe more enduring happiness? `Glimpse of Heaven' is a Chasms record, but really it's a Jess Labrador record. This is the first release operating on her own, and it feels like that's the only way this could have been made. It finds itself in the rare company of those few records that exist within themselves; it's a complete environment. You don't need to know anything to tune in and enjoy the world that she's created. It's a record that feels indebted to itself. It offers premonitions but not directions. It gives us honesty, but doesn't claim to know exactly where that will lead.

Sometimes, a change of view can transform a person’s world. On ‘Don’t Come Down’, the artist formerly known as Matt Pond PA can be found with his “shoulder on the concrete” of a pavement, scoping out the world anew. This granular realignment of perspective serves as an open door to the debut album from The Natural Lines. At once clearly Pond’s work yet a huge leap forward in its measured songcraft, melodic immediacy, collaborative detail and wryly questioning lyrics, the result is a gorgeous album of intimate reflections from a relocated, renamed, revivified talent.

Recorded with close collaborators and friends over a period that saw Pond make vital adjustments to his life, its stealth emergence reflects his desire to set a fresh pace for himself and come from somewhere new, somewhere more open.

Now based in Kingston, New York, with his partner and wild dog Willa, Matt explains the album’s gestation thus. “It was something different from the start. I wanted to write as purely as I could. Instead of getting stuck in the ‘tour, write an album, release an album, tour’ cycle, which is not a natural way of writing or living, I wanted to write an album and when it was done I wanted to make sure it was done. I didn’t want this feeling of, ‘Oh, we didn’t have time’, or, ‘I don’t know whether I believe in the songs but it’s coming out anyway.’ I used to be always racing to the finish line, but I’m not anymore.”

For Matt, the call to ring the changes came with the recognition of “a certain nihilism or narcissism” involved in making music. “In some ways, you have to get in your own head and I think I went too far with that, with drinking and shutting people out. In something that I believe is collaborative, it’s not helpful.”

“I quit lying,” he adds. “I checked my harsher tones. I cut my drinking down. I went to therapy and figured out how to stop shouting at cars.”

Car troubles inspire ‘No More Tragedies’, the album’s standout second track, where he wryly details his desire to dampen his twinned impulses to take pictures of license plates blocking his parking space or take bricks to said car windshields. Warming melodies and harmonies soothe his rage, a balance maintained elsewhere on the album.

A need for connection underpins the lilting ‘Alex Bell’, where Matt’s lyrics playfully reference the inventor of the telephone over a plaintive cello and bubbling keyboards – evidence of the album’s carefully nurtured arrangements. With nimble sequencing, ‘My Answer’ follows with a question: do artists really need to get messed-up to create? Matt may not have the answer, he admits, but he articulates the question beautifully, channelling the influence of Blue Öyster Cult’s ‘Don’t Fear The Reaper’ into a song of fleet, melodic electric-folk drive.

Featuring 17-year-old MJ Murphy on misty backing vocals, the softly insistent ‘Don’t Come Down’ is an album centrepiece, detailing a need to see things anew. Like The Flaming Lips writing a classicist piano ballad, the twinkling ‘Artificial Moonlight’ finds Matt writing late at night, illuminated by the lights from streetlamps. Finally, ‘Mahwah’ closes the album on a note of arrival. While Matt Pond PA’s albums emerged from the disconnection of touring and living in vans, Pond is now happily – cruel winters aside – ensconced in Kingston. “I have found a place I love. Mercury Rev lives near here. It is a cool place to be, an artistic, mountainous, wild place to live. So – maybe this is it.”

In the case of The Natural Lines, a sense of arrival suggests itself. For Matt, the album follows two decades’ worth of Matt Pond PA records and soundtrack works. In a career he once described as “a series of benign mistakes,” Matt travelled far, moving from his band’s starting point in Philadelphia to Florida, Oakland and beyond while releasing 14 well-received albums. In 2017, he declared his intent to retire the Matt Pond PA name, though it lived on briefly in the reissue of The State Of Gold and EPs such as Free Fall, a tribute to Philadelphia.

Now, the name change honours his collaborators. Among a revolving cast, one constant presence in his work has been Chris Hansen, who plays guitar, bass, keys, saxophone and vocals on The Natural Lines’ debut. Matt’s partner, Anya Marina, contributes vocals. Other band members number Hilary James (cello/vocals), Kyle Kelly-Yahner (drums), Louie Lino (keys), Sarah Hansen (horns), Sean Hansen (drums/bass), Kat Murphy (vocals) and, also on vocals, MJ Murphy, for whom Matt brims with praise: “She can do anything she wants to musically.”

A heartening rebirth for Pond and his friends, the result also pays warming, witty, reflective and infectious testimony to the value of reconfiguring one’s outlook. “Once I took control of my mind, I could see what I wanted to say more clearly,” says Matt. “Instead of random floods of mania and panic, I felt like I was composed and composing. It has become as simple as reading the words of a sentence in the right order. As small as the pause before I hit ‘send’.” A development, you might say, conducted along the most natural of lines.

New London based quartet Qwalia, led by drummer Yusuf Ahmed, offer a plethora of influences whilst remaining resolutely itself. Assembled from musicians who play with David Byrne, Joy Crookes, Nubiyan Twist, Frank Ocean, Jordan Rakei, Sampha, Cat Stevens and more; Yusuf is joined by Tal Janes on guitars and vocals, Ben Reed on bass and keyboardist Joseph Costi. Qwalia’s debut album ‘Sound And Reason’ is set for release by Alberts Favourites on 24th March 2023.
The name Qwalia stems from the same sounding word Qualia, a philosophy of mind with the property of being an ineffable experience. Qwalia’s music is an instinctive aural expression of how things seemed in the moment of creation.
In April ‘21, Qwalia spent two days recording completely improvised music at the Fish Factory in North West London. There was no plan or preconceived idea of what the music should sound like or what was going to happen.
“We set up altogether in one room, dimmed the lights, pressed record and just played,” says Yusuf. “We came away with over 13 hours of music, which was consolidated into three albums worth of material. The final record is mainly a result of pulling faders up or down to create space and structure out of what was already there from the live recording. The production process felt akin to a sculptor chipping away excess stone to reveal a statue that was already there, and occasionally putting some makeup on it!”
The band members are Pakistani, Italian, Venezuelan, Jewish and English. A reflection of the fact that cultural categories are infinite; Qwalia’s music unconsciously explores identity, exposing what this can mean. Or perhaps that it doesn’t mean anything at all.
Early support from Mary Anne Hobbs and Gilles Peterson, support to come from Huey Morgan, Cerys Matthews.

You can't claim to know anything about Danish jazz unless you're familiar with the great and beloved tenor saxophonist Jakob Dinesen - aka Dino.
Dinesen's reputation as a versatile and virtuosic saxophonist has brought him all over the world and has cemented him as one of Denmark's most
sought-after musicians, performing with jazz, rock, pop and world music elite for the past 30 years. Now, at the age of 54, he is a fully-formed,
dynamic tenor titan with an instantly recognisable voice. His sound on tenor has a tenderness that's totally his own, and his phrases glide and soar
with a seemingly effortless technical command of the instrument.
In early December 2021, Dino travelled to the United States to record with one of his heroes - legendary American drummeer Jeff 'Tain' Watts - who
at 62 years old is considered by many to be the most prominent and influential drummer of his generation. In addition to Dino and Tain, this
resultant album also features two young virtuosos from Denmark - guitarist Jacob Artved and bassist Felix Moseholm - both still in their twenties but
making waves with their incredible talent, drive and taste.
The result is a recording that takes listeners on a journey offering plenty of room for each of the four musicians to shine brighter than ever before.
Jakob Dinesen - tenor saxophone; Jeff 'Tain' Watts - drums; Jacob Artved - guitar; Felix Moseholm - bass.
A limited edition 180g vinyl release.