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Emerging once again from the unending waves crashing upon our fragile time-craft (adrift on the eternal ocean, and taking on water), Dirty Three are (a) back, (b) tangled in seaweed, rank with saltwater and possessed of three rather ominous thousand-mile stares (at least!), and (c) not wasting another minute – as nothing is guaranteed. For their first album in over a decade – yep, it’s been since 2012’s Toward the Low Sun – they flew in, got together and started playing. End of story. What else is there to say or do but that? Music’s their language, their true love; they never stop listening to that. And like the label says, Love Changes Everything.

The Dirty Three – Warren Ellis, Mick Turner and Jim White – formed up in Melbourne in 1992, to play with guitar drums and violin or viola, and within a couple years, they’d broken out – out of Australia, out of anything else they might have been inside of, to boot – and got worldwide. Over the next ten years, they toured over and over the planet, ceaseless like, and cut seven albums out along the way. After this, their unique style of play, fitted together like puzzle pieces, was decoupled, more often than not, and pieced together in many other, fruitful collaborations with many other esteemed talents. Over the past 20 years, they’ve gotten together a few times, renewed the vow, revved the engines and played some shows, or made an album. Like now

SABÏRE has now returned in 2024 with a 15 track epic, self-styled "half-concept" album, "Jätt", 5 years in the making. SABÏRE began at the tail end of 2010 as an idea to have a band that played simply what came naturally on guitar to Scarlett Monastyrski with no set genre or category. Simply the natural music. Shortly thereafter, the concept grew to accompany that sound with a big show and distinctive stylisation. The biting and sharp sound production, along with their personal lyrics, birthed for them a label for their music: ACID METAL. Not to be confused with the mind altering substance, Acid Metal took its name from the concentrated corrosive fluid not unlike the blood of the Xenomorph in the Alien films. The instruments are awash with acidic modulation, "like a drop of acid in the dark." The lyrics all hold a tinge of biting realism that once realised by the listener, stings them like a droplet of acid resting upon their skin. To take their metaphor further, their distinctive production style let's stand apart from the rest of the "modern" sound that degrades the potentcy of many new bands. They call it "brick culture," because it all sounds the same. Concentrated acid burns all the way through anything solid leaving a hot trail behind it, like the band continues to do so with garnering the attention of the world of heavy music. Band leader Scarlett Monastyrski comments : " 'Jätt' is meant to be THE sound of SABÏRE. A monolith to what we stand for artistically. We wanted this album to be its own art piece rather than simply a collection of arbitrary songs, a really 'blue' coloured sound. The physical copies hold beautifully styled texts detailing the concept for those chosen songs, as well as small epistles to accompany each track," says . “ 'Jätt' is a “blue” sounding album; the colour. You may understand that more when listening to the album yourself. The cover of 'Jätt', “Dante and Virgil in the Ninth Circle of Hell” - Gustav Doré, 1861, could be seen through a symbolic lense in which the listener is symbolised as Dante, the artist as Virgil, and the bodies locked within the ice of frozen lake as the music surrounding them; we as the artist are shepherding the listener through the mire. This could be perceived like this, or you may just see it as an attractive album cover. “ "We put our heart and soul into this one and can't wait to give our Wild Ones and Acid Fiends what they've been so patiently waiting for

Ltd. Purple & Black Splatter Vinyl. It's been four years since Zach Saginaw, aka Shigeto, returned home to Michigan from a stint in Brooklyn, NY, and since then, the multi-faceted musician has become a part of the fabric of Detroit's music scene. While always having a personal approach to his projects, Saginaw's influences for his third album, The New Monday are more about the community of Detroit than anything else. Named after a weekly DJ event called Monday is the New Monday that Saginaw does at the unassuming Motor City Wine with a group of friends, The New Monday is the result of Saginaw diving into the city's deep record culture, where there legacy of artist's of the past help Saginaw embrace his own contributions. "It's focused on a couple things and they all kind of come together to represent dierent things," explains Saginaw. "My time back in Detroit, back living in Michigan and spending time with a lot of kind of original people who have always been here, learning from them, hearing stories from them, being influenced by them, and inspired by them." While, in the past, projects like Lineage or No Better Time Than Now were rooted in strong personal messages, family and relationships respectively, The New Monday represents a communal eort where solidarity is the key. Going for a simplified approach of just trying to make good tracks, The New Monday is diverse in its styles leaning more into a dance music direction - new ground for a Shigeto project. A new air of confidence in Saginaw has expanded his horizons since his return to Detroit, but traces of his past work will continue to be present. "I don't want people to think I'm leaving anything," says Saginaw. "I'm still me. It's a result of me being immersed in the culture, and inevitably making music that is influenced by that culture whether it be house, techno, jazz, rap. It doesn't matter. It's all coming from what I love about Michigan." While The New Monday still features the jazz textures long associated with Shigeto projects, the varied elements that make up the album cohesively come together to show the distinct inspiration that Saginaw has drew from since his return home to Detroit. Like on "Barry White", which features Detroit hip-hop artist ZelooperZ (a member of Danny Brown's Bruiser Brigade crew who Saginaw also has a side project with called ZGTO), Saginaw captures everything he's been doing all on one track. As much as it's hip-hop influenced, it's a mutant that encompasses elements of dance music, jazz, and ambient sounds. Throughout The New Monday, Saginaw poignantly references the musical influences that have either always been with him or newly discovered. It is Saginaw's interpretation of Detroit's rich culture of innovative artistry, but done so with respect for the history and to contribute, not disrupt. "I think over the past four years, I can confidently say that I found my place here," describes Saginaw. "I'm happy here and I feel that I have the respect from the people I need respect from, that I want respect from. It's all of the result of embracing it and embracing, not Detroit, but embracing community, embracing family,








f A2D (FT. ZEELOOPERZ & SILAS GREEN) AAPV






f A2D (FT. ZEELOOPERZ & SILAS GREEN) [AAPV]

Compassion combines ethereal pop with ‘80s synth textures, and slacker-rock charm. It's got a bit of Matthew E. White, chilled out BC Camplight and Conor Oberst.

The inviting and perceptive songs on Rui Gabriel’s debut LP Compassion all tackle growing up. It’s about how the older you get, your priorities shift, friendships evolve, and responsibilities become inescapable. For Gabriel, the Indiana-based, Venezuela-born artist and co-founder of the acclaimed band Lawn, the changes in his own life inspired him to write a solo full-length that sounds like nothing the indie rock journeyman has done before. Across 10 vibrant tracks that combine ethereal pop with slacker-rock and piano-driven dance music, it’s a galvanizing showcase of personal growth and the grace you give yourself to push forward.

Work on Compassion started in 2018 when Gabriel was living in New Orleans. “I was living a pretty teenage life in many ways,” says Gabriel. “I worked at a pizza restaurant and would just go to shows or parties. I wasn’t doing anything other than music. I didn't have many responsibilities.” The songs he was working on at the time—tracks that didn’t fit Lawn but Gabriel still liked—initially went unfinished. But as Gabriel’s life changed, so did his songwriting and his desire to see his ideas through. “When I was writing lyrics, I was settling down with my partner and about to become a dad,” says Gabriel. “I was making choices about my life that contradicted the existence I had before. I had a different set of priorities.”

The songs on Compassion deal with youthful carelessness ("Dreamy Boys") and coming face-to-face with newfound responsibilities ("Change Your Mind"). It's consistently a biting, observant look at getting older thanks to Gabriel's unique perspective as a South American immigrant who's lived across the United States for the past 13 years. “When you are Hispanic, English isn't your first language, and you're in a music scene with a bunch of white people, you're going to stand out a little bit,” he says. On “Church of Nashville,” “Hey, Leonard Cohen is singing poems by the gentrified alley” he humorously aims at scene pretension and industry gatekeepers.

Compared to Gabriel’s work with Lawn, where he writes frenetic post-punk songs and yells, for Compassion he explores more straightforward pop sensibilities and showcases his singing voice. “I wanted to do a solo record to prove to myself that I could sing,” says Gabriel. Take the meditative, piano-based lead single “Target,” which is inspired by Dido and finds Gabriel gorgeously harmonizing with singer Kate Teague. He reaches similar infectiousness on the sunny rocker “Summertime Tiger,” which guests Stef Chura. Co-produced by Gabriel and Nicholas Corson (The Convenience, Video Age), Compassion is consistently warm, generous, colorful, and adventurous.

“Compassion is a record about change,” says Gabriel. “It's a coming-of-age record but for somebody who's coming of age into their thirties.”

For fans of: Spectrum / Recurring Era Spacemen 3, Loop, AR Kane, MBV, bdrmm, Cocteau Twins, Telescopes and early 90s Creation records.

Following a series of meditative explorations in the form of the Singularity Zone series of releases, The Oscillation have returned with a new sense of vigour and purpose. Refreshed and re-energized, the result is The Start Of The End, an album that casts more light and shade than ever before to create a mood of hope and re-birth.

At once warm and welcoming, The Start Of The End is an album quite unlike anything that The Oscillation have ever released before. Fuelled by optimism and taking stock of what’s good about life and what needs to be jettisoned, the record is a result of spiritual and physical re-charging and cleansing.

Leaving the claustrophobic environs of the big city for a more bucolic backdrop, the change in location has left a profound mark on Demian Castellanos, the creative force behind The Oscillation. Where the exorcism of dark emotions of previous album Untold Futures left Castellanos wondering if he’d ever make music again, his new surroundings stirred something within him.

“When I made my new home, I allowed myself time to do nothing for a while,” says Castellanos, “and I then started some new songs without worrying about them being on an album. I just wrote with the mindset to put out something positive.”

He continues: “I did a lot of reflecting on the past and really wanted to change something in myself, but not knowing how and thinking that a lot of people must be feeling the same way.”

Recalling the creation of The Start Of The End, Castellanos says, “Writing and recording in an environment where I had little contact with people, no hanging out or partying or even having conversations was very interesting.”

The result is an album that’s recognisably the work of The Oscillation while pointing to a variety of new directions. Be it the celestial majesty of the title track, the melodic infusions that drive opening track ‘War On The Mind’ or the pulsing grooves underpinning ‘Faraway’ and ‘Body Electric’ or even hypnotic repetition at the heart of ‘Mantra’ and ‘The Eternal’, this music brimming with zeal and confidence. And to crown it all, closer ‘Sovereign’ is akin to communing with angels.

The Start Of The End is a line in the sand and one that points to a better tomorrow.

Mick Harris is one of the world's greatest compositional treasures. Starting his career as the energy dynamo behind the drum kit of the UK's Napalm Death, he made the term Blastbeat a household reference, wrote the band's music on his mother's one string guitar, and joined the Guinness Book of World Records for composing the world's shortest song. In the decades succeeding, he has re-inventedmusic several more times, from the wild abstract jazz of Painkiller with John Zorn and Bill Laswell, to the drowning ambience of his Lull project, all while continuing to build a world that he can truly call his own - the dark post-dub of SCORN. "Reaching 54 this year - this won't stop the challenge, driving me more so now than ever" - says Mick Harris, commenting on the recent phase in his creativity. The pandemic isolation and lockdown pushed the work of the maestro more than anything else could have. In 2021, his output is ever-increasing, releasing the newest collabs with Justin K. Broadrick and the single "Distortion", featuring one of the most outstanding voices of hip-hop - Kool Keith - his closest collaborator, Ohm Resistance founder - Submerged. Commenting on the release of "Distortion", Mick Harris said to mxdwn: "I enjoy collabs - they bring something different to the swim." Working on his own and collaborating with everyone from Sleaford Mods' James Williamson, on the previous SCORN release or with Kool Keith and Submerged on "Distortion", Mick Harris never had problems with putting energy into beats and sound landscapes, combining various surreal elements with three basic elements that always push Harris further, that are extremely crucial for both Mick Harris and SCORN as a project - frustration, anger and anxiety. Combining the signature soundscapes of Scorn with tartareous textures, the newest album "The Only Place" reaches a psychedelic groove, based on what Harris calls "Pushing an original idea further" with his own shades of light and dark and celestial electricity of what SCORN is. These 10 new tracks add elements unheard in Scorn since Evanescense and Gyral - ethereal ambiences and floating, near-melodic-but-not-quite moments, a signature of Harris' abilities to generate feelings in a lost world of his own creation. 2024 vinyl version on orange coloured vinyl!

A Gilles Peterson-approved deep jazz-rap classic.

2024 first time vinyl release, 140g double vinyl, remastered audio with restored artwork.

Limited and Non-Returnable.

Holy grail hip-hop alert! Superstar Quamallah's Invisible Man was never released on wax so, to celebrate the 15th anniversary of this astounding record, we present the first ever vinyl edition. A stunning record which gained accolades upon its initial release, such as a prominent feature on Gilles Peterson's renowned Best Of 2009 show, it's one of the most essential jazz rap albums of all time.

Deep jazz rap on that mellow-melodic tip, Invisible Man is an unforgettable album with nothing but dope beats and dope bars. There's a strong chance this album has passed you by but we truly believe it to be a lost hip-hop masterpiece. It supremely captures the essence of a golden age classic without being slavish to the past. No, this ain't some facile throwback rap. It's a fresh and deeply soulful, original album shot through straight from the heart. Perfect to chill to, Invisible Man is profoundly jazz-oriented and captures with simplicity and sincerity the essence of hip-hop circa 1983-1994. It sounds like vibing with your nearest, dearest and oldest friends on a long hot summer night as the tantalising thought that anything is possible fills the air. You know what, we can just call this "magic hour rap" and we think you'll know what we mean. It's just beautiful. Just Listen.

Brooklyn-born, California-based emcee, DJ, and producer Superstar Quamallah was active in the West Coast underground scene throughout the 90s and recorded extensively with such revered names as Defari and Tajai. His parents were some serious artistic heavyweights, too; his father was soul organist Big John Patton, a giant in the jazz world known for his releases on Blue Note whilst his mother was an active designer. However, he remains relatively unknown. Invisible Man, named ostensibly after the classic Ralph Ellison novel, could also refer to how he is viewed by the public at large. With close affiliations to the Hieroglyphics, Dilated Peoples and Likwit crew, his debut EP "Don't Call Me John" arrived in 1999 on ABB Records, after which he took a sabbatical from recording which included graduate school, travelling, teaching at Inglewood High and eventually a professorship of African Studies at Berkeley.

With a laidback flow and deep, relaxing presence on the mic, Superstar Quamallah is equal parts Big Daddy Kane, Rakim and Guru. Invisible Man is refined, soulful, feel-good hip-hop of the old school. Its wise, spiritual and literate sound, combined with the summertime vibes projected by the smooth beats and the nostalgia-inducing samples and vocal scratches, created jazzy boom-bap rap reminiscent of prime De La Soul, A Tribe Called Quest and Gang Starr.

Irresistibly bouncing opener "You Need Knowledge" loops sparkling pianos, horns and a nagging whistle refrain with scratched vocal refrains from Slick Rick, Mobb Deep and Guru. The super-smooth head-nod classic "88 Soul" also utilises a beautifully swelling piano line and dusty breaks whilst Quamé reminisces about his childhood in NYC. Deeply moving, the silky, sultry "Black Shakespeare" is built around an elegant piano loop and goes hard on the superman lover tip whilst "For My People...It's Spiritual" is transcendental rap in conversation with Rakim and older gods. The "Moment Of Truth"-sampling "Lonely At The Top" is striking for its undiluted boom-bap stylings and the staccato flute-hop of "Just Listen" is riddled with soulful refinement. The deeply-affecting, wistful-yet-triumphant bells and horn-drenched single "California Dreamin'" is top-tier rap of unimpeachable quality. What a flow!

Another highlight is the rich melodic piano-rap of "Purity", a beautiful ode to the foundations of rap and those keeping the culture authentically alive. Beautifully played instruments and spiritual jazz samples elevate the deep thinking present on "Kunta Kente" whilst the darker jazz-tinged battle-rap of "93 Shit" goes super hard both in a lyrical sense and with its no-holds drum punches. The breezy Rhodes and string loops that serve as the sonic backdrop to the slinky jazz rap of "We Got Plots" are just gorgeous as our hero evokes Common's "I Used To Love H.E.R." with a head-spinning tale of crime, deception and double crossing. And some twist! "Do Win-Dis" has a tense crime-funk backing and rolling beats which complement Quamé's flow perfectly before the record is rounded out by the tough yet jazzy brilliance of rap confessional "Hope She Remembers Me". Just sensational.

Upon its original release, Quamallah himself declared: "My favorite time period for Hip Hop music was definitely between 1983 and 1994 with 1988 and 1993 being two years that standout as extremely impressive years musically and culturally. The fashion, slang, movies, TV shows and vibe during those years was incredible. While totally submerged in the feelings and music of that entire time period, I went to work on Invisible Man and I am excited for people to hear the result! It is an album that I would want to hear from some of my favorite artists of the past and present today. This is not a RETRO trip for me; this is me at my best lyrically and spiritually using the accessories of the 80s and 90s to fuel me. I am a 88 soul as the song states!"

This album goes deep. It goes all in. When Invisible Man first came out it had a real hold on us here at Be With HQ. We couldn't stop listening to it. We'd venture to say it's one of the top 25 rap records of the 2000s. In the years since its release, it has remained a criminally underrated record, an increasingly hidden gem. We sincerely hope this first time double LP release will go some way to correct this.

It's been mastered for vinyl by Simon Francis, cut by Cicely Balston and pressed at Record Industry. Finally available on the format it should always have been on, it must never be rendered invisible again.

Let Go the debut album from Avril Lavigne, originally released in June of 2002. Let Go became an instant sensation with hits such as "Complicated," and "Sk8ter Boi" dominating the charts and airwaves.

"Nonesuch Records releases Rectangles and Circumstance, an album of ten songs co-written and performed by Caroline Shaw and Sō Percussion. The album follows their 2021 Grammy Award–winning Nonesuch debut, Narrow Sea, and their first record as a band, 2021’s Let the Soil Play Its Simple Part, with Shaw on vocals backed by Sō – Eric Cha-Beach, Josh Quillen, Adam Sliwinski, and Jason Treuting. Grammy-winning engineer Jonathan Low (The National, Taylor Swift) co-produced with them on both Let the Soil… and Rectangles and Circumstance. Sō and Shaw’s upcoming performances will be announced soon.

Sliwinski says in the new album’s liner notes, “After a few years of touring Let the Soil Play Its Simple Part together, with a pandemic in between, we came to record our second album, Rectangles and Circumstance, as a road-tested band who knew each other’s strengths, weaknesses, and tendencies intimately.” He continues, “Most of the songs started with instrumental pieces or fragments of pieces from Jason or Eric.

“As both a songwriter and a classical composer, Caroline is accustomed to writing lyrics as well as setting them. Going over texts with her is like working on music: I collect a handful of poems and send them over to her, waiting to see if anything catches her interest, then I modify my search based on her feedback,” Sliwinski says. “For this album, Caroline, Eric, and I sourced a group of nineteenth-century poems that shaped its expressive mode and ended up using verses by Christina Rosetti, Emily Brontë, Emily Dickinson, Gertrude Stein, and William Blake … The lyrics on this album by members of the band contain wordplay that explores the same profound feelings explored by Blake and Dickinson.”

Caroline Shaw is a musician who moves among roles, genres, and mediums, trying to imagine a world of sound that has never been heard before but has always existed. She is the recipient of the 2013 Pulitzer Prize in Music, several Grammy awards, an honorary doctorate from Yale, and a Thomas J. Watson Fellowship. She has worked with a range of artists including Rosalía, Renée Fleming, and Yo-Yo Ma, and she has contributed music to films and TV series including Fleishman Is in Trouble, Bombshell, Yellowjackets, Maid, Dark, and Beyoncé’s Homecoming. In addition to her albums with Sō, Nonesuch has released her two Grammy-winning albums Orange (2019) and Evergreen (2022), both of which feature Attacca Quartet. ‘Two-Step’, the first of Shaw’s songs with Ringdown, her duo with Danni Lee, to be released on Nonesuch is available now.

For twenty years and counting, Sō Percussion has redefined chamber music for the twenty-first century through an “exhilarating blend of precision and anarchy, rigor and bedlam” (New Yorker). Their commitment to the creation and amplification of new work, and their extraordinary powers of perception and communication, have made them trusted partners for composers including David Lang, Julia Wolfe, Nathalie Joachim, Bryce Dessner, Dan Trueman, Kendall K. Williams, Angélica Negrón, Shodekeh Talifero, claire rousay, Leilehua Lanzilotti, Bora Yoon, Olivier Tarpaga, and many others. Sō has recorded more than twenty-five albums, including a performance of Steve Reich’s Mallet Quartet on the Nonesuch record WTC 9/11. Its members are the Edward T. Cone performers-in-residence at Princeton University. Sō Percussion’s educational and community work includes the Sō Laboratories concert series and the Sō Percussion Summer Institute, an intensive two-week chamber music seminar for percussionists and composers.
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A kaleidoscopic sonic riot, Nandakke? is the hotly anticipated debut album from Japanese-Belgian duo Aili. Featuring 10 tracks of surreal electro-pop, joyful electronica, house music and more, Nandakke? is a euphoric album that sees Aili Maruyama and Orson Wouters more than fulfil the promise of their acclaimed debut EP.

Recorded over the course of six months in Orson's studio, packed full of vintage synths, Nandakke? captures the spontaneous spirit and creativity of those sessions. Exchanging riffs and rhythms, bouncing sounds and samples off each other, Aili and Orson would let the music take them where it wanted. The result,an album full of wild ideas and bold, playful experimentation.

More than anything an exhilarating feeling of discovery courses through Nandakke?, leaving you never sure where it will go next. One minute a pulsing electro-pop number featuring Aili's dad discussing his takoyaki (battered octopus) recipe, the next an explosive high energy workout song like Up & Down.

Certainly Aili was surprised to find herself singing in her own unique version of Japanese again.

"I thought that I was done with that after our debut EP, but apparently not as I speak even more Japanese on the album!" said Maruyama. "Every time we were in the studio these words would just tumble out. It's a complicated language but I just love to play with it.

"In many ways I'm an outsider, I left Tokyo aged 7, so there's a lot I notice as someone who is not a native speaker and it doesn't always make sense, there's a lot of mistakes in it.But in a way that sums up the whole philosophy of the album and how Orson and I work together."

That notion of duality, a sense of belonging but feeling apart, of being between two worlds and inventing your own captures the spirit of Nandakke?, itself a Japanese word that roughly translates to "Well, what was it?".

"It's something you say when you're looking for a word, like you know it but have forgotten how to say it. That's literally how I communicate with my dad the whole time," Maruyama explains. "The main feeling I have when I go to Japan is that I know the language, I can speak it, but part of me still feels like it doesn't have all the vocabulary. There's a gap there that nandakke has always filled for me. All the lyrics come from that place, that seven-year old trying to speak Japanese."

Whether Aili's singing about the language she invented with her father over the years to bridge the gap between them (Nandakke?), the idiosyncratic Japanese relationship to fashion (Fashion) or riffing on children's playground songs (Yubikiri) the result is a remarkable album that defies easy categorisation.

Bursting onto the Belgian scene in 2021 with their acclaimed debut EP, Dansu, its lead track spent 8 consecutive weeks at the #1 spot of Radio 1's VOX list and saw the band nominated for Studio Brussel's De Nieuwe Lichting ('New Generation') award. Since then Aili have appeared playing live on the Belgian TV show Roomies, been tipped by the likes of Rolling Stone, become regulars on tastemaker stations like KEXP and KCRW in the US and Nova in France, toured across Europe and, just recently, played their first sell out shows in Japan.

When Man Man released its last album, "Dream Hunting in the Valley of the In Between," frontman Honus Honus (née Ryan Kattner) was in a state of unrest, oscillating between hope and cynicism. Perhaps fittingly, the album dropped during the pandemic, a time at which we could all relate. But, much like that bizarre turn of events, the ennui now seems so distant to Man Man. A revived sense of purpose washes through Man Man's new album, Carrot on Strings, radiating a mix of calm and confidence. Kattner always embodied a wild-man pied-piper vibe: his melodic, unhinged art-rock was at once intriguing and angsty. He was so alluringly creative that you went along with it, even if you were never sure where Man Man would take you. Carrot on Strings is no less inventive, but its ethos is radical in context of the band's two-decade career. "When I was younger, I would feed off of chaos. I would, you know, be upset and get drunk and smash chairs," Kattner explains. "Now those chairs are in my head: It's less of an outward projection, more of an interior monologue." The name "Carrot on Strings" came to Kattner while experimenting with the sound of someone munching on the vegetable, which you can hear in the cacophonous, similarly named song. It alludes to how success always seemed to dangle uncertainly before him, often just out of reach. But listen intently and you'll hear a more content Kattner finding an uneasy peace: "Life, as far as I've known it, has always been side hustles. Would it be great if I could go into a studio and record for a year without figuring out how to finance it? Yeah, it would be," he says. "But ultimately, I need to keep making music because art is an extension of my psyche. It's how I have learned to translate the palpitations of my heart. Simply put, I'd go insane without it." Growing up as a multiracial Hapa kid (half Filipino, half white) with a father in the U.S. Air Force, Kattner lived an itinerant childhood that included a few pivotal years in Germany, where he honed in on an appreciation for out there German cinema and art. His film obsessions and screenwriting background were crucial to Carrot on Strings. The album nods to the films of Werner Herzog and Rainer Werner Fassbinder as much as Italo-disco, Randy Newman, goth rock, and avant pop. (Kattner continues to work in the film industry with an acting role in the upcoming horror-comedy movie Destroy All Neighbors, for which he also served as composer; music supervising season 1 & 2 of the Interview With The Vampire AMC TV series; and shopping around, with director Matthew Goodhue, a script he wrote that he describes as a Wim Wenders road movie on acid.) In a bid to not overthink anything - his last album took seven years to make - he recorded the bulk of Carrot On Strings in five days in Mant Sounds studio in Glassell Park, Los Angeles with "very chill" producer Matt Schuessler, who had worked on Man Man's cover of Neu!'s "Super" for the seminal Krautrock band's box set. The resulting album represents a newfound sense of self for Kattner, who finds himself inspired and at peace both personally and artistically in ways that eluded him for most of his first 15 years playing music. When, on Carrot On Strings, you hear Kattner croon humbly, or sing of the tension between his outsize stage persona and the thoughtful, soulful guy he actually is, you're hearing Kattner liberate himself. "I first got into music to escape from myself," he says. "And now, it sounds so corny, but I have zero doubt that music ended up saving my life."

A home, a house, has countless frequencies. Each room, each corner feels different. Swings differently. And as you grow older, you realize which corner is yours. But yeah, it takes time…

It certainly marks the end of an era when the house one called home as a kid no longer exists. This home, it was the starting point of so many journeys. Of one big, ongoing journey. And so it feels good, soothing, reassuring to at least return to a spot nearby – to that (proverbial) hill from where you can see it. Feel the vibe that made you.

Andi Haberl’s debut solo album as Sun is sort of dedicated to that house. It’s a journey leading to that hill overlooking everything that made him. It’s not about nostalgia, not about actually returning to a specific place. Instead, it’s about finding a personal frequency, an overlapping of sounds and samples, an open space that mirrors and extends whatever frequencies felt right at different points in time.

“To me, the results feel like Gold Panda/Four Tet meets Steve Reich meets Krautrock meets film scores. I just really wanted to create moods that touch me – and ideally others, too.”

Talking about his first solo album, Haberl recalls many stages: early compositions that ended up on Alien Ensemble’s albums, early DIY/home studio/multi-instrumentalist inspirations (Le Millipede), new technologies that came and went, even a set of wildly convincing arrangements (done with Cico Beck’s crucial input) that ultimately became stepping stones for yet another round of DIY takes. “It was a long, recurring process, and the songs went through so many different versions,” he says, talking about phases of growth (“I added more and more equipment over time”) and pruning, “cleaning up my music a bit.” Tending towards instruments that open up space, and slowly falling in love with sampling, he certainly didn’t rush things once it was time for interior design decisions ;)

“During this whole process I got to learn so much about my own taste, how I prefer to listen to the pieces, which musical elements really matter to me… and what my own voice is. For example, that acoustic elements are most important to me: the banjo, piano, drums, my voice, glockenspiel, trumpet, melodica. Anything that opens up some space.”

Every journey begins with a search: “Missing” with its plucked chords opens like a sunrise over pastoral plains, gently leading the way towards the intricate, playful explosion that occurs once a certain amount of energy (“Sun”) hits dirt and other surfaces: things grow, clot and curdle into new shapes, like new buds; layers of sound move forward, drenched in Spring’s new light. Relying on samples to ask for precipitation (“Rain On Me”), robotic “Low” goes from barren to bass-heavy after its midway shift in pace, full of loops plucked from the shade.

Towards the album’s midpoint, things are suddenly reversed: “Cluster” has that backwards pull, you can’t tell what’s what, yet everything is perfectly locked in, as the pace increases once again. And before the title song shimmers with densified cheering (to eventually stand tall like early Lymbyc Systym), “Beside Me” swipes you off your feet with its booming bass drum. The beat returns once again (“Daydream”), full of searching voices underneath, and at “Dawnday,” we can finally catch a melancholy view of the house. Voices hum. It’s the score moment of the album. Everything makes sense now. A happy end of sorts?

“I want to take people on a journey. A personal journey, too, because when my parents split up and sold the house I grew up in, I felt a bit like the ground had fallen out from under my feet. But I have dedicated the album title and the accompanying piece to this house… so I can keep it in good memory.”

“I Can See Our House From Here” has been a long time coming. It’s been a long journey. Homeward-bound. Leading to a place that’s really Haberl’s – his sound. His frequencies.

Known as a long-time member of The Notwist and various other bands/projects (Alien Ensemble, AMEO, jersey, Ditty etc.), Berlin-based drummer/composer Andi Haberl has also worked with My Brightest Diamond, Till Brönner, Owen Pallet, and Kurt Rosenwinkel, to name a few. “I Can See Our House From Here” is his first solo offering.

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. 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 both 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 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). 3 Feet High & Rising was chosen by the Library of Congress to be added to the National Recording Registry for its cultural significance and general excellence.

This special boxset release of De La Soul’s 3 Feet High and Rising includes twelve 7” custom singles pressed on splatter vinyl and housed in custom sleeves, housed in a box that includes a 7” pinup and a double-sided 7” slipmat, and is available first at record stores as part of RSD Black Friday. "

The Telescopes Radio Sessions collects together the essence of three live session recordings in 3 different countries over a three year period between 2016-2019. This is the third in a series of radio session releases from Tapete Records that have so far included The Monochrome Set and Comet Gain. More session releases are being lined up for the rest of the year and beyond - enjoy the sonics and stay tuned. Over the years I have read a lot on people’s impressions of The Telescopes. Some folk think it’s a collective, others imagine it used to be a band and feel nostalgia towards what they consider to be the original line-up (even though many had come before, during and since) and some people refer to it as currently a solo career. In a way this is all true and none of it is. When faced with these kind of questions, along with questions about the style of music that The Telescopes make I often say The Telescopes house has many rooms, which explains things perfectly for me but for people on the outside looking in it only serves to increase their confusion. For me, confusion isn’t such a bad thing. Everything is born into confusion, the sense we try and make of that chaos is interesting and excites me. The universe often disorientates, it sends me a jumble of thoughts and impressions coupled with a feeling of something I need to express… if I could only decipher the encryption. This is how The Telescopes music comes to be and it is also how The Telescopes came to me. I regard The Telescopes as an entity of it’s own that introduced itself in my darkest hour and I was chosen as its vessel. From the second it arrived I was obsessed to the point where there was nothing else. A bit like having an imaginary friend. As the obsession grew it began to infect others, everybody loved my imaginary friend and wanted a piece of it. As its success grew however, so did the corruption, until one day the entity fell silent. The silence lasted for years, I tried everything to reconnect but it was having none of it. I had been a bad caretaker, I had let the house become infested and I had lost my way. This epiphany served to remind me of simpler times when anything felt possible with this entity by my side. It had trusted me with something so simplistically profound and I had let it down. The realisation of this was a eureka moment. I am not The Telescopes, I never was and never will be, I am the caretaker, the lighthouse keeper and if a job is worth doing it is worth doing well. With this dawning, I felt a crack open up in the cosmic egg and a familiar confusion in my head. The entity had returned. It was time to start untangling its tangled threads once more, to make sense of what it was saying, this time without corruption. It’s all about listening. I listen to what my cosmic friend sends me and channel this expression into what you hear through your speakers. It may take one person to achieve this, it may take more. There is no set line up or instrumentation that can hold The Telescopes. Whatever it takes to hit the zone, whatever is available, absolute focus is imperative. Sometimes it takes sabotage to keep that line of vision intact, there is no room for preconceptions or complacency in making the music. The Telescopes music is the now

incarnate and a state of total being is necessary to achieve. From the outside looking in... again, it’s all about listening. What comes through your speakers is the only thing that matters. The music either reaches you or it doesn’t. Everything else may seem interesting or confusing but ultimately it is corruption. So if you’ve bought the record, read the sleeve notes and bought a ticket to see a live show, don’t be surprised if the line-up is or isn’t the same as the recording. The only thing that is for sure is that The Telescopes as an entity is speaking to you in its own voice in every scenario.
Of course the difference between albums and live shows is that you can play the record over and over again to the point where you know every line and every note that was played. Whereas with live events you are left with an impression that can only be replayed in your mind. It can be frustrating at times. When you are touring with a great line-up and feel like something exciting is happening, you want everyone to hear it, not just the people at the shows but the people that couldn’t make it on the night as well. There is no guarantee that there will be the same line-up at a live show as there is on the album. This is why live sessions are important, they document a side of things that is often fleeting. Here we have three sessions, all different people transmitting The Telescopes sound on each. Some are regulars, some dip in and out and some were just passing through. In each case The Telescopes chose them as their vessel and as the lighthouse keeper I did everything I could to help them on that journey while trying to be a good caretaker to the house of many rooms. The Telescopes have been invited in for many sessions over the years, the first two were for John Peel on BBC Radio 1. We also recorded a session for Marc Riley and Mark Radcliffe before their
celebrity when they had a show on BBC Radio Manchester. We could have compiled this album from those sessions, it was certainly considered but Tapete and myself believe this selection gives an exciting glimpse into that fleeting side of The Telescopes in a constant state of flux that is left mostly to myth and imagination. For those who listen to the records but have never had the chance to take in the live experience, welcome to the other side. For those that follow us live, here’s a little reminder and a keepsake. Infinite suns. Stephen Lawrie February 2024.

"Imagine: It’s sometime in the back half of the 19th century, America. You’re sitting in the parlor of your mansion, or in the only room of your shack; things are dusty and smell like sweat and hair, no matter how wealthy you may be. You don’t own a phonograph, and you don’t know who Tony Hawk is, but you have an inkling of how good the word 'shred' is going to feel when it enters the local slang. Suddenly, a tall, elegant figure with beautifully maintained fingernails emerges from some corner of the room, carrying a guitar. He says in a soft voice, 'I have a transmission for you, from the coming few centuries. Would you like to hear it? I figured you wouldn’t have a dongle, so I brought my guitar.' You may be apprehensive, but you shouldn’t be. Shane happens to be an internationally renowned virtuoso of the guitar. Specifically, he’s the kind of virtuoso who is as deep on style as he is on technique. His technical prowess is almost maddeningly complete; aiming paradoxically for the yards-long target called “breadth” he’s somehow hit all of it, 500 arrows piercing every pore of the landscape. He has that much technique not for the sake of guitar worship but to best bring the music forth clearly and in his own hand, like a pearl formed in a specific sea. I know this because I’ve sat next to him in multiple countries and American states and seen him deliver transmissions of that extreme honesty, with that extreme capability. Like Derek Bailey’s 'Ballads,' this record brings you into the room and the breath of a true musician whose mastery does not overshadow his appreciation of the music that inspired it. The title, 'Repertoire,' underscores the beautiful songs he chose to perform, all standards of 20th century musical excellence. The in-time persistence of his blues-walked 'Lonely Woman.' The grand registral descent he performs on 'Pithecanthropus Erectus,' like a rare document of the trip down from Everest. Dig how 'Better Get Hit in Your Soul,' emphasizes the folk blues water coursing through Mingus’s Ellingtonia, how Aphex Twin’s 'Avril 14' and the Minutemen’s 'Cohesion' sound so much older than Cage’s 'Totem Ancestors.' 'Repertoire' puts forth the idea that time is arrangement: time and arrangement are each only as successful as they are faithful to their origins and expansive in their style. Again, lest you fear the alien smoothness some associate with the concept 'virtuoso,' remember here we’re dealing with a time- traveler. His virtuosity is home grown, born of human work rather than some abstract or divine touch; the aim is not to go beyond the realm of human technical possibility but to expand it in the direction of human, meaning, timely. This guy can play anything, and for you, for this record, which sounds intimate and as present as a transmission from a time-traveler, he chooses to."—Wendy Eisenberg

It was the summer of 1996 in London. Rat Scabies had his studio 'The Arch' underneath Kew Bridge, in which various projects were recorded. At some point, Rat (The Damned), Derwood Andrews (Generation X) and Glen Matlock (Sex Pistols) drifted in to rehearse and write songs to record an album. Pretty soon they were ready to start recording, but they didn't have a singer. They called upon an old friend Gary Twinn (20 Flight Rockers), who flew in on the red eye from Los Angeles and immediately started recording. It may have been a good idea to give Gary time to get over the jet lag, and write some more songs. But Gary's lyrics were working well and it was sounding so good they started laying down the tracks. A day or so later, Martin Lee Stephenson, a young hot mixer came down to the Arches and mixed the seven tracks that were recorded. The plan was to do a few more songs and have a finished album. Gary went back to the west coast and started booking shows. It was all looking good, and it was fun. Then Glen called to say the Pistols had offered him to reform with a world tour called Filthy Lucre, and he'd be doing that for the next six months at least. So, Dead Horse was truly dead, and the whole idea was abandoned. These tapes have been on the shelf for almost 30 years. These tapes are being released in the interest of music history, and the fact that they were never quite finished shouldn't matter to anyone. The quality of the people involved shines through.

The upcoming album, How to Build an Ocean: Instructions is a project doused in personal conflict, but simultaneously a love letter to the normal and how beauty can be found in just being. Charged with references to literature, philosophy and film, as well as first hand experiences, the band explore thoughts of what it means to find purpose when everything feels purposeless, all whilst ultimately instructing themselves to find “small joys in the face of cosmic indifference”. Produced by George Perks (Enter Shikari, The Doves, You Me At Six), How to Build an Ocean: Instructions marks an exciting new development for Bears in Trees, being the first album they’ve recorded with the help of consultants outside of the band themselves, having previously relied on drummer George’s expertise, who outside of the band, works as an engineer at Subfrantic Studios. Tenderness, triumph, and a totally unashamed feeling of enjoying the ride whilst they're on it, How to Build an Ocean: Instructions is their definitive statement. Though no matter how far this record takes them, the most important thing is that they are together and doing what they love. Because when all is said and done, that's the connection that will last a lifetime. "We started the band because we loved hanging out with our friends and wanted to make stupid music together"; Iain concludes. "That's always been the reason, and it hasn't changed. All we want to do is make what we do as honest and authentic as possible. That's what it means to be in the Bears in Trees business."

The upcoming album, How to Build an Ocean: Instructions is a project doused in personal conflict, but simultaneously a love letter to the normal and how beauty can be found in just being. Charged with references to literature, philosophy and film, as well as first hand experiences, the band explore thoughts of what it means to find purpose when everything feels purposeless, all whilst ultimately instructing themselves to find “small joys in the face of cosmic indifference”. Produced by George Perks (Enter Shikari, The Doves, You Me At Six), How to Build an Ocean: Instructions marks an exciting new development for Bears in Trees, being the first album they’ve recorded with the help of consultants outside of the band themselves, having previously relied on drummer George’s expertise, who outside of the band, works as an engineer at Subfrantic Studios. Tenderness, triumph, and a totally unashamed feeling of enjoying the ride whilst they're on it, How to Build an Ocean: Instructions is their definitive statement. Though no matter how far this record takes them, the most important thing is that they are together and doing what they love. Because when all is said and done, that's the connection that will last a lifetime. "We started the band because we loved hanging out with our friends and wanted to make stupid music together"; Iain concludes. "That's always been the reason, and it hasn't changed. All we want to do is make what we do as honest and authentic as possible. That's what it means to be in the Bears in Trees business."

'Welcome to Hotel Heaven' is a fresh start for is George van den Broek, a young man with an old soul and the voice to match. His music as Yellow Days fittingly, feels both of his era and completely other: a woozy mixture of soul, blues, psych, and groove leaking through the walls of a jazz lounge that's come unstuck in time. A self-taught multi-instrumentalist, George has never fit into one style or space. Despite George being an old soul — he hates social media, loves vinyl, and collects old cameras — Yellow Days really is a project about youth and modernity: “Hotel Heaven represents fake comfort in all its forms, this whole bullshit idea of luxury where nothing is real,” explains George. “There are so many young people who are living that kind of life. Because of the cost of living crisis, people are spending all they’ve got on a bag of white powder just to make them feel nice. Their jaws are still swinging at four o’clock in the morning, but they’re not saying anything. I wanted to write about these people and everything that is happening right now. This TikTok age where everyone wants to be famous. It’s also a big 360 of my life and career to date. I wanted to get away from everything I’d done before, wash my face and start afresh.” - Yellow Days

The Morning Papers Have Given Us the Vapours was made with the black watch bandmates and producers/engineers Rob Campanella (Brian Jonestown Massacre, The Tyde, The Warlocks) and Andy Creighton (The World Record, Parson Red Heads). Ben Eshbach, formerly of The Sugarplastic, arranged the strings. Kesha Rose guests on lead vocals on the second single, Oh Do Shut Up. And the great Lindsay Murray once again lends her beautiful backing vox to a number of tracks.

the black watch songwriter/frontman John Andrew Fredrick wrote the ten songs on this, his Los Angeles-based band's latest album, entirely unselfconsciously, with no set goal in mind other than to revel in the joy of songwriting, and, eventually, the luxury of recording his music with his more-than-accomplished band. The Morning Papers Have Given Us the Vapours, produced separately and together by Rob Campanella and Andy Creighton evinces the black watch's often stunning ability to, as Andy Gill once observed in The Independent, "find chaos in the calm, melody in the miasma."

Fredrick, who has also published four comedic novels and a book on the early films of Wes Anderson, jovially describes himself as "a recovering Anglophile--one who'll never, one hopes, fully recover." From his home studio in the Angeleno Heights district of L.A., he waxes eloquent about how being branded, as it were, as a too-ardent lover of British music, film, and literature has left him as bemused as has the tag "prolific" that is often affixed to reviews of his work.

"I just don't think it's all that interesting to note that we've made so many records. Looked at one way, it's a sort of deflection from talking about the timbre if not the quality of the individual songs. Though I know it can be intimidating for fans who've just discovered us--a sort of 'My goodness, where do I start with this band that has put out LPs since 1988?' I get it. I do. I picture someone standing at our slot at a bin at a record store becoming overwhelmed at the prospect of picking the 'wrong' title. And then walking away and not picking up anything from us!" Fredrick laughs. "What can you do indeed?"

He started his career as a songwriter as a result of an American Football injury that left him bedridden in the home he grew up in in Santa Barbara, California. The year The Beatles immortal double-album came out at Christmastime he broke his leg so badly that he had to be home-schooled for an entire year. His parents, ex-teachers themselves, refused to let him watch telly for more than an hour a day. He propped a Silvertone acoustic on top of the massive cast that screamed all the way up to his thigh from his toes, and began to write little melodies and lyrics that, doubtless, did not in the least mask his love for the Fabs, The White Album in especial.

And he read and read and read--histories of the American Revolution and Civil War, mostly, and as many Dickens novels as his mum and dad could bring him. "That year," Fredrick observes, "surely made me who I am today. Proof that intensely unfortunate-seeming events can prove most fortunate. As a sport-mad kid, it made me absolutely mental that I was exiled from the activities I loved most and the school teams I played on. What a blessing undisguised that injury was! Not that I'd like to experience anything like it ever again, mind you."

Fredrick can even recall a few of the melodies he wrote as boy ("Utterly trite, of course, completely jejune"); and in a way, The Morning Papers Have Given Us the Vapours showcases a kind of get-back-to-where-you-once-belonged sensibility. "I didn't intend, this time, to make an album per se. I write both songs and fiction in order to find out what happens, to find out what I might want to say," he notes. "Rob often asks me what a particular song is about; and I often reply that I either don't know, or would prefer that others say. Same thing goes for when people ask me where they should start with our discography. I never know what to say. Our LP from 2011, Led Zeppelin Five (remastered in 2021 for its tenth anniversary), has been our best seller, I think--but that may be because some stoned Zepheads thought their gods had perhaps put out a record they'd missed!"

Despite being deadly serious about music-making, TBW's been known to either whimsically or perversely title their albums. Examples: Jiggery-Pokery (an allusion to John Lennon assessing George Martin's productions), After the Gold Room (a pun on the Neil Young classic plus a local eastside L.A. watering hole), Sugarplum Fairy, Sugarplum Fairy (echoing Lennon's famous count-off to A Day in the Life), Fromthing Somethat (a garbled spoonerism/lyric while doing a vocal), Brilliant Failures (the 2020 release that, along with Fromthing Somethat, was named Album of the Year by venerable indie rock magazine The Big Takeover), and the aforementioned LZ5.

For the new LP, the band recruited longtime friends and allies Ben Eshbach (the Emmy-Award-winning frontman of The Sugarplastic) and Lindsay Murray (Gretchens Wheel) to compose and arrange strings and sing heaps of lovely backing vocals, respectively.

And the result? A collection of songs that Fredrick, in his quite-but-not-quite self-deprecatory way, might call another set of brilliant failures. "Every song, every LP we do, is a failure of sorts--no matter how powerful or beautiful or pleasing-to-us it turns out," John concludes. "I have often said that my aim is to write songs as good as anything on The Beatles... and I will never achieve my goal. And thus I'll have to keep at it, keep trying. And chin-chin to that!"

And now your attention's been brought to a band (or you've heard of them or heard a track or two down the years) that has been pegged by The L.A. Weekly as "a national treasure" as well as "the most criminally-neglected indie pop group imaginable."

So here's to the prospect of that ostensible neglect becoming as much of a thing of the past as John Andrew Fredrick's year-long stint in bed.