quête:sense of sun

Alto saxophonist, composer and producer Logan Richardson’s career has been marked by his deep engagement with the Black American improvised music tradition as much as by his fearlessly open-minded embrace of the contemporary sounds of the global diaspora and his keen gaze towards the future.
‘AfroFuturism’ (his fifth solo album) synthesises all those elements together into a stunningly audacious statement that is epic in its scope while providing a deep, intimately personal view into its creator’s inner life.
The core of the album is a series of towering alt-rock/trap/wonky beat soundscapes created Logan’s extensive range of keyboards, synthesizers and programming along with the latest iteration of his Blues People band - Igor Osypov
on guitar and Peter Schlamb on vibes and keys, with Dominique Sanders on bass and sharing production duties, and the thunderously virtuosic drumming of Ryan J. Lee and Corey Fonville rounding out the rhythm team.
Logan intersperses these with an array of diverse sonic interludes, scraps of found audio, unexpected, limpid pools of introspective strings performed by Ezgi Karakus and quiet glades of hushed balladry from long-time collaborator, vocalist Laura Taglialatela. Over all, his unmistakable keening voice on alto sax provides the constant narrative thread. “I was trying to get back deeper to the core of my artistic voice: using fresh production processes to mix in my interconnected influences and all the sounds I hear, while trying to find a sense of roots.”
As one of today’s most singular voices in contemporary music, with AfroFuturism Richardson delivers not only a hugely impressive statement, but one with a direct and urgent message for the future that is rooted in his own and the larger contemporary Black American state of affairs, while reminding us of his musical unpredictability. One can only imagine what he’ll do next.

I’ve known Alex Bleeker my entire life. Well, okay, maybe not since I was born, but there’s no doubt that I’ve shared a fair bit of memories with him over the years. We’ve acted in high school productions of Shakespeare together, gone on late-night diner runs, argued about which Weezer album is the band’s best, and swapped mutual appreciation for the music of Yo La Tengo on car rides careening around the snaky suburbia of our hometown. Just like his Real Estate bandmates Martin Courtney and Julian Lynch, we attended high school in the New Jersey enclave of Ridgewood, a place where sticky summer days yielded cool nights with a glow so nocturnal that you can practically hear the fireflies buzzing off of this sentence alone.

Indie rock—a type of music that can easily be made or listened to in someone’s garage—often dominates teenage suburban preoccupations, and both Alex and I were no exception. You can hear this legacy of listening on his new album Heaven on the Faultline, which departs from his last full-band outing as Alex Bleeker and the Freaks, 2015’s Country Agenda. Whereas that album had a more full-bodied explicitly folk-y feel, Heaven on the Faultline finds Bleeker getting back to his homespun roots over the course of its 13 songs, from the jangly guitar pop of New Jersey heroes the Feelies and YLT’s hushed, acoustic reveries to the open-hearted folk rock that marks so much of the Grateful Dead’s early catalog.

Written and recorded over the last several years, Heaven on the Faultline’s songs were initially recorded straight to GarageBand in Bleeker’s bedroom before receiving further studio refinement in co-producer Phil Hartunian’s Tropico Beauty space in Los Angeles. With contributions from Confusing Mix of Nations’ Josh Da Costa, Cameron Stallones of Sun Araw, singer-songwriter Kacey Johansing, and Parting Lines’ Tim Ramsey, Heaven on the Faultline achieves a warm and intimate feel that defines Bleeker’s mission for the album: “I wanted to capture the moment in which I fell in love with making music to begin with. This is music for myself—me getting back to music for music’s sake.”

The unsteady times we live in certainly creep into view on Heaven on the Faultline. The deceptively easygoing “D Plus” was written on the day of President Donald Trump’s inauguration with the cursed event in mind, while the anxiety of climate change hovers just above the lovely guitar loops of “Felty Feel.” “The album is very much about dealing with the anxiety of a sense of impending doom,” Bleeker states while discussing the album’s portentous vibes. “When is the hammer going to fall? How do we go forward in the face of such anxiety and experience the complexity of life?”

Tough questions with few answers, but try not to stress too much. It’s possible to experience such existential doubt while also enjoying the simple pleasures that life has to offer, and that ethos is square at the heart of Heaven on the Faultline. It defines who Alex Bleeker is, too, and is one of many reasons why I’m proud to have known this special person and artist for so long.

Larry Fitzmaurice

Children Of Tomorrow will celebrate soon its 10 years anniversary. The label was created by Emmanuel Ternois back in the day and being joined by Arnaud Le Texier in 2011. Since then they focused on Techno producing amazing artists, to name few: Terrence Dixon, Zadig, Tensal, Antigone, Oscar Mulero, Jonas Kopp, Samuli Kemppi etc... Children Of Tomorrow is now presenting the first album from Arnaud Le Texier. After almost 30 years Dj-ing around the world and almost 20 years producing. Signing many releases over the years and always busy delivering dance floor releases, it's been a long wait to finally get an album from ArnaudOn his first album we can feel that he wanted to tell a story and to express something deeper with his production experience. There is a different variety of Techno that stretches from ambient / broken beat / hypnotic / raw Techno along with subtles grooves, wondrous atmospheres & sonic textures. On A side the album opens with Dusk, an ambient atmospheric mid-tempo track with sonic sounds that is a perfect intro.Pattern 2 starts with drones and blip sounds and a broken beat groove follows with a pad that sounds like a voice coming from the space. The track ends with some modular click sounds that make the whole track clever. Followed by the album title Granular Therapy, a deep techno track with modular bass line and melancholic pad. A perfect track to play in after or to warm up a party.The B Side is more dedicated to the dance floor with Black Nympheas that is a proper dark modern techno with a grinding bass line and magic drones. A simple beat makes the track evolve in a nice way. Blade Pass frequency is 4/4 effective Techno with a 909 kick, a syncope acid bass line and a pad that sends you to another dimension. It is a powerful track but with a sense of deepness and sensibility that Arnaud can achieve sometimes. This side closes with Binary Sun Dawn which is an ambient track with melody that has a jazz feeling mixed with dark atmospheres, sonic drones and water drops. The C side opens with Mono Driver, a minimal track with a little synth that stays until the end repetitively until it makes you travel and lose your mind. Deep and dance floor at the same time.

Then Snapper is a more percussive track with some shinning bells and a grinding modular bass line.

The last track Virgo Consortium is a cosmic broken beat with dark atmospheric drone, simple bass and phasing efx. The D Side starts with Midi overdub which is a beauty. A mix between ambient and broken beat. The pad has the deepness that transports you somewhere else with an angel choir on top. The beat is spacial and groovy at the same time with smart high hats. This reminds Arnaud's past ambient production but with a modern approach. Surely a special track of the album.

Hideous Engine is more dance floor with metallic bass line and 4'4 beat going towards a sonic pad that closes the track.The last track Dawn is ambient with drones and blip sounds and an acid bass line modulate. A perfect end of the album.This album is an accomplished journey that makes you dance and travel from dusk till dawn. Arnaud Le Texier shows a coherent vision and illustrates his vast diversity in the techno world. Hopefully we won't have to wait 20 years to get another one.

Angel Tears in Sunlight is Pauline Anna Strom's first album in over thirty years; an assemblage of music that refracts the expansiveness, and minutiae, of imagined realms while embracing the kaleidoscopic echoes of our distant epochs. The capacity to collapse time might elucidate the enigma of Pauline Anna Strom. A mystic force in music, emerging during the dawn of new age as the Trans-Millenia Consort, the pioneering synthesist channelled primordial energies into future-facing sound through a series of full-length releases between 1982 and 1988. Little was known about her, except by a constellation of devoted followers who saw a unique legacy forming amidst the (mostly male) synthesist canon of the time. Following the 2017 release of Trans-Millenia Music, an anthology revitalizing the most evocative parts of Strom's catalog, the Bay Area visionary sensed the universe telling her to return to music. As with her work in the 80s, Angel Tears in Sunlight was composed and recorded in the same San Francisco apartment where Strom has lived for almost four decades in synthesis with her machines and "dinosaurs." Populated by a compact array of modern instruments that streamline the sound of her analog past and her beloved iguanas, Little Soulstice and Ms Huff, the terrarium of her home forms an intimate yet limitless ecosystem that defies the constraints of the outside world. Within this sanctuary, Strom becomes lost in time, drawing on the ancient energies of her inner visions. Her hardware forms the crux of translating these ideas into sound. "It's the only way this stuff can be pulled out of myself, the universe, Little Soulstice, an ammonite_," Strom notes. "It couldn't be done without this machinery, because there's no other way to draw and capture these frequencies into sonic interpretation." Strom's process of recording transient live-takes enriches the mystery of her work. She renders the machinery a composer itself, a cohabitation with a living other. "Many musicians wouldn't go that far because of ego," Strom muses. "The equipment has to become part of you and your creativity. That's how I think it all comes together." Music-making becomes a harmonic language of intuition with an instrument, where Strom cultivates sound for a harvest that defies season. Shaped by circadian contours, Angel Tears in Sunlight is a celestial observatory of earthborn phonic mosaics. Strom uncovers a symbiosis between hardware frequencies and apparitions of nature in the record's arena of organic tones, emulating the melodic pulses of primeval terrain. The album transcends both shadow and light, falling to hushed stretches of sound as if not to awaken antediluvian animals, before soaring through the treetops where ancient skies peer over reptilian traffic and unsparing rains.

From label owner Terry Cole, "It was on March 16, 2020 that we closed up our storefront as the reality of a worldwide pandemic began to spread across the Midwest. We had no idea how it was going to impact our shop, our label, or the artists we represent. We were all fortunate to have our family members stay safe and healthy; however, the livelihood of many of our friends and artists were drastically and immediately impacted. No tours, no live performances, record shops closed, pressing plants shut down, etc. And while the level of uncertainty was unnerving, from that uncertainty came the idea for Brighter Days Ahead. We knew we wanted to continue to release new music, but proceeding with our heavy 2020 release schedule as planned seemed ill advised. So the idea was to release individual tracks from many of our artists on a weekly basis and as a musical family, we could all help shine light on each individual artist weekly. Strength in numbers! So throughout the summer and into the fall, that's what we did. We released several dozen tracks and the weekly announcements certainly garnered a strong sense of community for our artists and fans alike. We're very proud to present Brighter Days Ahead: a compilation from our talented stable of artists on both our Colemine and Karma Chief imprints."

The five members of Sun June spent their early years spread out across the United States, from the boonies of the Hudson Valley to the sprawling outskirts of LA. Having spent their college years within the gloomy, cold winters of the North East, Laura Colwell and Stephen Salisbury found themselves in the vibrant melting-pot of inspiration that is Austin, Texas. Meeting each other while working on Terrence Malick's 'Song to Song', the pair were immediately taken by the city's bustling small clubs and honky-tonk scene, and the fact that there was always an instrument within reach, always someone to play alongside. Coming alive in this newly discovered landscape, Colwell and Salisbury formed Sun June alongside Michael Bain on lead guitar, Sarah Schultz on drums, and Justin Harris on bass and recorded their debut album live to tape, releasing it via the city's esteemed Keeled Scales label in 2018. The band coined the term 'regret pop' to describe the music they made on the 'Years' LP. Though somewhat tongue in cheek, it made perfect sense ~ the gentle sway of their country leaning pop songs seeped in melancholy, as if each subtle turn of phrase was always grasping for something just out of reach. Sun June returns with Somewhere, a brand new album, out February 2021. It's a record that feels distinctly more present than its predecessor. In the time since, Colwell and Salisbury have become a couple, and it's had a profound effect on their work; if Years was about how loss evolves, Somewhere is about how love evolves. "We explore a lot of the same themes across it," Colwell says, "but I think there's a lot more love here." Somewhere is Sun June at their most decadent, a richly diverse album which sees them exploring bright new corners with full hearts and wide eyes. Embracing a more pop-oriented sound the album consists of eleven beautiful new songs and is deliberately more collaborative and fully arranged: Laura played guitar for the first time; band members swapped instruments, and producer Danny Reisch helped flesh out layers of synth and percussion that provides a sweeping undercurrent to the whole thing. Throughout Somewhere you can hear Sun June blossom into a living-and-breathing five-piece, the album formed from an exploratory track building process which results in a more formidable version of the band we once knew. 'Real Thing' is most indicative of this, a fully collaborative effort which encompasses all of the nuances that come to define the album. "Are you the real thing?" Laura Colwell questions in the song's repeated refrain. "Honey I'm the real thing," she answers back. They've called this one their 'prom' record; a sincere, alive-in-the-moment snapshot of the heady rush of love. "The prom idea started as a mood for us to arrange and shape the music to, which we hadn't done before," the band explains. " Prom isn't all rosy and perfect. The songs show you the crying in the bathroom,, the fear of dancing, the joy of a kiss - all the highs and all the lows." It's in both those highs and lows where Somewhere comes alive. Laura Colwell's voice is mesmerising throughout, and while the record is a document of falling in love, there's still room for her to wilt and linger, the vibrancy of the production creating beautiful contrasts for her voice to pull us through. Opening track 'Bad With Time' sets this tone from the outset, both dark and mysterious, sad and sultry as it fascinatingly unrolls. "I didn't mean what I said," Colwell sings. "But I wanted you to think I did." Somewhere showcases a gentle but eminently pronounced maturation of Sun June's sound, a second record full of quiet revelation, eleven songs that bristle with love and longing. It finds a band at the height of their collective potency, a marked stride forward from the band that created that debut record, but also one that once again is able to transport the listener into a fascinating new landscape, one that lies somewhere between the town and the city, between the head and the heart; neither here nor there, but certainly somewhere.

Conjuring up lush minimal soundscapes intertwined with noise elements and hard as nails riff rock, reminiscent of some kind of weird mixture between a Mondriaan and Pollock painting, H A S T is mind-blowing, ear-blowing and heart-blowing, exploring extreme dynamics, pure simplicity and everything in between.

H A S T, founded by alto saxophone player Rob Banken, is an instrumental band rooted in jazz, heavy rock and improvisation. Their signature sound can best be described as not shying away from exploratory intellect while still maintaining passages of stunning simplicity, rock riffs and free improvisation.

Ubi Sunt (Where are... they?), is part of the Latin question "Ubi sunt qui ante nos fuerunt?". (Where are those who were before us?'). This kind of questioning evolved into a stylistic figure in medieval poetry, which was mainly used in the then popular elegies (a reference to 'Elegy', the debut album of H A S T).

Originally an expression of a sense of nostalgia, it became more and more a reflection on transience and mortality. The music on 'Ubi Sunt' was written and recorded in the middle of a the coronacrisis. Ubi Sunt: "Que sont mes amis devenus. Que j'avais de si pres tenus. Et tant ames? ..." (Rutebeuf).

Recorded, produced & mixed by Koen Gisen (Nordmann, De Beren Gieren, Flying Horseman, Dans Dans, SCHNTZL, ...) at Studio La Patrie, Ghent, BE.
Mastered by Karel De Backer.

‘The Fountain was supposed to be a full length album but as the songs took shape, I realized that there was something cohesive going on with a smaller batch.
They all focused on the theme of platonic love with a sense of gratitude. I think that traditionally, I had mostly written yearning, romantic odes and it was nice to focus on what was right in front of me,’ says Justin Sullivan, who records as Night Shop and also plays with Kevin Morby.
Fittingly, The Fountain is a family affair, with friends and collaborators bringing the songs to life. The E.P. features Katie Crutchfield (Waxahatchee) on backup vocals, Meg Duffy (Hand Habits) on guitar and bass, Sofia Arreguin (Wand) on piano, Jarvis Taveniere (Woods), engineering and playing a host of instruments, Anna St. Louis on backup vocals, Tiffanie Lanmon (Jess Williamson) on drums and Flat Worms bandmates Ivy and Hellman.

Following the stellar trip through Woo’s Arcturian Corridor , Quindi Records continues to explore intimate, inviting sounds with an experimental bent by facilitating the return of overlooked Italian duo Cabaret du Ciel.
Initially formed in 1986, Cabaret du Ciel’s debut album Skies In The Mirror was a low-key and extremely rare cassette release of spellbinding electro-acoustic ambient music created by Gian Luigi Morosin and Andrea Desiderà. A reissue on Hybride Sentimento in 2018 brought renewed attention to the startling music contained within this unique project.
The Breath Of Infinity is an album comprised of new works recorded over the past year, either as new pieces or reworked from old ideas with the assistance of Giorgio Ricci. Morosin and Desiderà’s natural instincts as multi-instrumentalists shine through across the record as they did on Skies in the Mirror , although these tracks were in fact composed as raw live takes using electronic workstations (with a little additional fretless bass provided by a close friend Giampaolo Diacci on “Different Suns” and “Climatic Variations”).
There is a crisp, digital timbre to the worlds Cabaret du Ciel shape out on The Breath Of Infinity – utopian pastureswith an air of optimism similarly expressed in the first waves of ambient electronica. Folk traditions exert a guiding influence on the sparkling, ethereal melodies and full-frequency harmonisation, but this is music enamoured with timeless plateaus rather than hackneyed interpretations of the past, present or future.
It’s also an album of variety. “Different Suns” tumbles with a pastoral, elemental earthiness thanks to the interwoven rhythmic murmuring of percussion and live bass, while “Lakota” pivots in sharply rendered bio-mechanical formations.
There’s a widescreen bombast to “Theatre Azure” which calls to mind mid-90s US electronica, while “Meredith” reclines in a blissful bath of plush 80s FM synthesis. “Sunset Parade March” has a distinct sense of propulsion thanks to its overdriven, broken techno rhythm and “Highlands” skips with an infectious energy despite not using any formal
kind of percussion, but even in these more kinetic moments a preference for mellow musicality maintains the dreamlike mood.
Consider The Breath of Infinity like an archipelago, where each track functions as its own distinct island of ideas while being intrinsically interconnected to the others. In a similar fashion to acts such as Ultramarine (who appeared as remixers on Quindi 001), Cabaret du Ciel emphasise the musicality in their electronic music, shaping out an
evocative, imaginative environment to idly glide through or attentively explore.

Blue vinyl includes mp3 download, 12 x 24 inch poster: Some say life only makes sense in reverse, from the vantage point of your rear view - Magic Mirror is a looking glass of sorts. Like a modern day Alice in Wonderland, Pearl Charles beckons you to slip and fall into her world. You'll find yourself drifting with the tide - the ups, downs, and all-arounds of a life well-lived and well- loved. From start to finish you float along a reflective river, dancing in your own/the personal/private Studio 54 of your living room, decked out in sequins or nothing at all. It's a feel good album that asks us to actually take the time to feel good. Magic Mirror follows the cartography of a girl, growing into a woman, as she moves through life from singledom, to the expansive space of self-reflection, and the newly appreciated perspective of coming back together again and finding yourself, this time with someone new. A love letter to the self, a dance party for life, and at times as introspective as your best trip, Pearl takes us on a journey that, like life & love, has the tendency to surprise, delight, and leave you breathless. All you have to do is let yourself enjoy it.

Type “Was Joan of Arc” into Google and the suggested endings for this statement give you an accurate gauge of her place in pop culture: “Catholic” / “a nun” / “canonised” / “a prophet” / “French” / “a witch” and so on. Related questions to “What were Joan of Arc’s last words” on the info-sharing site Quora include “Was Joan of Arc bisexual” and “Was Joan of Arc simply crazy?” Everyone seems to agree this person was burned at the stake in 1431, but beyond that, Joan’s narrative is an enigma. It is this lack of definition that the production duo Pillow Queen harnessed for their second release, Burn Me Up. Inverting the image of the devout Christian girl, the Joan who stands as this record’s heroine was a heretic, a transvestite, most definitely a dyke and a hot femme-top at that.

Opening up the A-side, the title track is a call— a battle cry, but also a summoning. In a time of need one calls upon their patrons and elders from history; a DJ beckons and gathers dancers to the floor; prayer and sweat go hand and hand. A traditional Irish bodhrán drum beats out the first rhythms, joined by a steamy vocal sample that gets caught, chopped, and soon “Burns Me Up” is pumping along with organ chords and distorted keys. Pivoting away from the 4/4 format, “Submission” is a textured, downtempo slow-burner, with close-mic’d vocals from Vani-T and the D. Tiffany’s deft drum programming. When the choral pads come in, there’s an echo of the 1990s German worldbeat project Enigma, with its Gregorian chants and flutes laid on top of lounge beats—here, though, the chorus is stripped of kitsch, only driving the track deeper into a mood.

If Burn Me Up’s sequence of tracks is read as a kind of narrative, they seem to tell the story of Joan’s last moments. “Burn Me Up” is, frankly, heat—aggressive, the high-end crackles and the bass puts a pyre under one’s feet. “Submission” is like an exhale, a giving-in to death’s grip; there is, along with the sensuous tread, a melancholy. It only makes sense that one flips the record to “Resurrection”, which rolls in a tremolo’d wail of pitched vocals for 30 seconds before a kick drum begins the 141-BPM march. The percussion is central here, as the track shifts between polyrhythms like a range of resuscitations, varied heartbeats. “Salvation” closes the record, again dialling back the tempo to the deep nod of dub. To no surprise, the scene of redemption here is not one of sunlit cherubs—the church bell sample tolls one strike every few measures of bass-throb and shadow, while Vani-T intones, “Then he lay down and died”. Death can be salvation to some; living as many selves, living in contradiction, is a saving grace to many more.

This compilation sees the coming together of independent music makers from across the globe to meet in one place and gather as a single entity. That simmering hub of warmth and affection is known as Motor Jazz - a place for artists to congregate and share their devotion for songs that are infused with rhythms created by anodic wires, buttons and other digital paraphernalia. That's electronic music to you and me, and in this case electronic music with swing, a sense of freedom and improvisation that some might call 'Jazz'.

The album opens with the ominous drone of the Mega Corp., sounding like one of the parties responsible for 2020's almost post-apocalyptic feel. It's perhaps an unlikely opener for a what's a positive and optimistic collection courtesy of young musicians from across the globe, but we all need to be reminded of who's in charge sometimes, and Dutch producer Jon Sewi does just that!

The mood soon lightens though, with the soulful strings and enticing keys of Gladdics by the mysterious Black Soyls, before well established German musical artisan Renegades of Jazz brings the family in for It's Tea Time with ticking clocks, warm tea pots and slices of cake, whilst being serenaded by a very vintage sounding horn section.

Serafin Plum almost steer us into drum & bass territory with their off-the-wall percussive nugget Jagged, whilst keeping a calming hand on the shoulder (as all good parents should) with soothing keys, before it's playtime once again.

There's nothing conventional about the Motor Jazz family though, and after tea time and play time, it's time to rave! In Greek mythology, The Maenads were female followers of Dionysus; their name literally translating as "the raving ones". Often they were portrayed as being inspired by the god into a state of ecstasy through a combination of dancing and intoxication, during which time they would dress in fawn skins and carry a thyrsus - a long stick wrapped in ivy or vine leaves and tipped with a pine cone. With a sound ranging between Jazz, Techno, Rave and Breaks their track, Opera, delivers a psyche and Jazz influenced piece with colliding styles, busy drums and rich melodies.

Heading over to Dublin, Ireland, and multi-talented producer, musician and DJ, Donal Sharpson (aka Double Screen) makes his presence known with grandiose brass preempting a four-to-the-floor wood block frenzy in the shape of Sheikah, complete with enthusiastic whoops and a persuasive bassline. Meanwhile, somewhere below the Irish Sea, aquatic artiste Stubby Dials delivers the bass worrying Put It On Ice the only way he knows how - living in a submarine, he emerges from time to time to leave his master tapes on the beach with a note saying "Release this!" before submerging, never been seen again.

Back in the Netherlands, Bram van der Hoeven, otherwise known as Lucinate, is an electronic Jazz producer par excellence. His effortless balance of organic musical roots like Fusion, Bossa Nova and Soul, into the world of modern beat orientated sounds is something to behold, and with The Cards he offsets life-affirming keys with rolling drums reminiscent of some of the seminal liquid Drum & Bass he grew up with.

As the global Motor Jazz family expands, we head to Canada, where the wonderfully monikered Woodpecking Mantis brings a little acid to the party with his squelchy, stuttering and brilliantly entitled Waving At A Melting Square Tooth Of A Specific Rabbit……. We're guessing they like acid a lot in Canada.

We're going down under to Newcastle, Australia next, where things take a more serene turn. Wrenasmir, known to his parents as Craig Smith, used to be a baroque pipe organist before he discovered samplers and synthesizers. Now he makes imaginary soundtracks at his studio for the twilight beachside city that lives in his head - full of vinyl and pixels and bittersweet memories. The gorgeous Lucempight is exactly that.

Keeping things low key and tranquil, Poets And Rockets, the latest offering from Jay Solomon is a horn driven slice of futuristic dub that makes way for The Motion Orchestra's majestic Midnight Sun, complete with Alexander Bednasch on double-bass, Mark Matthes on violins, Andy Sells on drums and David Hanke on electronics and production. Though influenced heavily by neo-classical and jazz sensibilities they occupy a musical space that sits in neither sphere, with a compositional style that deftly fuses the orchestral and electronic worlds. The full Motion Orchestra album, All One, will be released later this year on Bathurst.

Sixteen year old, self taught producer and multi-instrumentalist Teis Ortved is something of a prodigy. The Copenhagen based wunderkind has so far self-released two EPs, and if What, his offering here, is anything to go by, he's going to be making big waves across the eclectic music spectrum for years to come.

If Teis is the new kid on the block then what better way to round off this compilation that with its patriarchal figure. Funki Porcini has over a quarter of a century of recordings in his back catalogue, and has spent fifteen of those years dedicated to the independent UK behemoth that is Ninja Tune records. The Last Recording From Earth is exclusive to this album and is in many ways the perfect closing song. Perhaps more concept art than traditional piece of music, the idea behind it is that an alien archeologist has found this recording tens of thousands of years after humans have disappeared into the sand…. You never know, it might just happen, and hopefully Them To Us will take on a whole new meaning.

Joshua Abrams’ first album Natural Information from 2010, superb avant-jazz, newly remastered at Dubplates & Mastering.

In his book Powershift, published in 1990, writer and businessman Alvin Toffler predicted that the century ahead would be defined by speed and that time itself is destined to become our most valuable commodity. When Joshua Abrams recorded Natural Information, originally released by Eremite in 2010, he was reacting against such commodification of time and the diminishing attention span that accompanies it by offering music with an irresistible groove, rooted in the sinuous rhythms of the human body and the full play of our senses.

At the heart of this music is the sound of the guimbri, a North African three-stringed bass lute, which Abrams started to play following a visit to Morocco during the late 90s. Traditionally the instrument has a key role in mystical healing ceremonies. Abrams, already a well-established figure in Chicago’s vibrant musical communities, had no desire to repackage tradition. He recognized however that the involving, springy and percussive sound of the guimbri was just the right voice to communicate vital data, to relay the natural information we all need in order to get back in touch with the pulsating continuities of a world we all share.

With Natural Information Abrams entered a new phase of his musical life, extending an invitation to the trance, where time intersects with timelessness. He carried with him a wealth of playing and listening experience. As a bass player he had worked with a host of notable musicians including guitarist Jeff Parker and percussionist Hamid Drake, and had been a member of back porch minimalism outfit Town And Country and the improvising trio Sticks And Stones.

The guimbri is a shaping presence on this remarkable recording, but Abrams also plays bass, bells, kora, sampler and synthesizer. Sympathetic friends including guitarist Emmett Kelly, vibraphonist Jason Adasiewicz and drummers Frank Rosaly and Nori Tanaka join him for the project. They set out not to contrive some neat hybrid but to enable coordinated energies and enriching influences to pulse and flow through living, breathing music. Ten years further into a century seemingly dedicated, as Toffler foresaw, to the survival of the fastest, the deep involving groove of Natural Information seems still more relevant, more illuminating, more vital.

Joshua Abrams: guimbri, mpc, percussion, harmonium, bass, bells, dulcimer, donso ngoni, ms20
Jason Adasiewicz: vibraphone
Emmett Kelly: guitar
Frank Rosaly & Noritaka Tanaka: drums

Ending the season on a breezy note, our new VA 'Boogie Angst, Edition Three' delivers the ideal wares for a buoyant last stretch to an otherwise trying year. Spanning a brightly hued kaleidoscope of pop-infused house and mellifluous boogie, Edition Three pushes forth a selection of our choicest grooves from the past year as well as a batch of unheard and exclusive gems to keep you in the warmest, most positive mindset for the winter to come. Through fifteen cuts covering a wide but cohesive spectrum of balmy sonics, the compilation once again offers a much spitting image of what the label's been up to in recent times.

HIGH HØØPS playful revamp of Secret Rendezvous' fresher-than-fresh RnB joint 'Back In The Day' sets the tone right away, followed closely by Moods & Two Another's lush coastal disco number 'Control' and Snacks & Eric Biddines neo-big band style house treat 'All Night' - a singular chunk of ballroom bop tinged with soulful blues tropes and Caribbean melodic accents, sure to have the dancers jiving without further ado.

Here comes Inkswel's synth-splattered mix of 8-bit pixelation and Run DMC-esque hip-hop 'Too Late' (ft. Stan Smith) and Saux's dream folk excursion 'You're Not Wrong'. A highlight of the package and mesmerizing piece of wistful, kosmische-laced disco, Kraak & Smaak 'Centro De Placer' ushers us in a realm of velveteen ingenuousness and sun-streaked utopianism, steering us away from the tar-scented gloom of soulless metropolises into an all engulfing prism of hope, love and grace.

Utrecht-based vibist Feiertag punches the clock with 'Encino Boogie' - a four minute-odd slab of buoyant funk sprinkled with laid-back house tropes and brass-heavy, loungey dub tonalities, perfect for drawing out the pleasure of dreamlike summer boogie sessions. Clear your mind and shuffle your feet to that solar-powered mix of fevered drums, slap bass and sensually aqueous groove.

Next, Kraak & Smaak's add their easily identifiable, almost Beck-ian spin to Jean Tonique's lysergic pop hit-en-puissance 'Too Bad' whilst Bondax lo-slung remix of Moods' sense-awakening soul tune 'Slow Down' (ft. Damon Trueitt) eases you into a place of inviting suavity.

Inkswel's funky robot chugger 'The People' (ft. Dave Aju) picks up the torch next, followed by Flevans, your go-to man for proper electroid floor traction. The UK-based producer has you covered with 'Everything I See' - a surefire, bass-driven roller inbound for severe club impact with its infectious mix of fiery riffs, mangled female vox slivers and racing groove. Next, Secret Rendezvous' sun-beamy ballad 'Your Love' takes us on a gently bouncy, romantic ride.

Last but not least, Vhyce's smooth hybrid of synth-strewn RnB and lo-velocity funk 'Lose Our Minds' (ft. Yves Paquet), David Harks' metronomic disco-pop anthem 'Twice' and Saux's sleek-textured synthpop exponent 'Night Is All There Is' round off the package on a typically smooth and vibrant sentimental touch.

For the wax heads out there, a limited 9-track vinyl sampler will be issued alongside the digital compilation, featuring some of the tracks on the album + a few alternative versions, and furthermore a vinyl exclusive of Kraak & Smaak's remix of Izo FitzRoy's 'When The Wires are Down', initially released only digitally via Jalapeño Records.








h 08 | Inkswel The People (Cody Currie Remix) feat Dave Aju
feat Wolfgang Valbrun

In these dark times of Covid we still have our music. We have the sounds to soothe us, distract and take our minds away from the chaos and uncertainty.
We can't dance like we used to but we can hear and feel. Our release must be found in another way, we must look within. We find solace and grant ourselves space and time in the music.

Sam McQueen (Indio co-producer with John Beltran, Indigo Aera, Delsin Records, Furthur Electronix) presents his debut album Dreams In Sepia for Mojuba sub label a.r.t.less and hits us with a real time soundscape of the moment, an epic-like document of these times. The rhythms are subtle, sometimes broken, the time structures often complex, this is not primarily dance floor orientated music. These sounds are way more cerebral, for the heads. They reflect perfectly the complexities of life we are experiencing in 2020.

The edges are rounded with occasional strolling bass lines and comfy chords. Slabs of keys and spaced out female vocals like a psychedelic journey that scares you at first yet comforts you soon after. Sam McQueen's mediatory sounds give an overwhelming sense of the moment. The music makes you take time out and listen. Its purposeful manner suggests there are more hours in the day, like time slowing down a pause, like the sun slithering slowly behind the horizon. These are sunset sounds for dark back-rooms.

Daytime or night, it works. This is the soundtrack for the other room, the deeper sounds not designed to make you dance. This music doesn't get in your face, it creeps up and smacks you on the ass. There are elements of early nineties UK Techno, a warmth and delicateness that pervades a distinct lack of four four dance floor in the beat structures, a softer tone throughout than the harder Detroit techno sounds of the same era but still nods and acknowledgements to the D in the layout and way the sounds present themselves. Think John Beltran, Symbols and Instruments, Black Dog or Kirk DeGiorgio, mid 90s Berlin sounds from Basic Channel / Rhythm & Sound, but in lockdown. Music for today's modern lacking landscape. The sounds often familiar, analogue, the drums, hi hats and snares, shimmer, jazz style. They accentuate and push the rest of the elements around them.
?In a bygone era this would be crudely classed as Chill Out music. In 2020 Covid era its about how it makes you feel as you relax and really listen to it. It is about emotion and empathy, a oneness, a new unknown and a deeper train of thought for the listener. Much like 2020, Sam McQueen lays the pieces round the edge of the jigsaw and lets you fill in the rest.

In demand 7 inch sees a limited edition in translucent yellow vinyl.

Regarding the album: "This has not been off the decks since I first got it and have been hammering it to death on the show. One of the ESSENTIAL albums of 2011. Perfect in every sense and totally irresistable" Craig Charles (BBC 6Music) Two cover versions taken from the essential album GITANO REAL. I Believe in Miracles is an overwhelming take on the Jackson Sisters classic in a rumba funk fashion. Party stomper!! And on the other side, a longer trip departing from McFadden and Whitehead's seminal Ain't Non Stoping Us Now and touching the revered latin disco version of Charanga 76, only to end up as a fabulous clap-driven rumba stormer. Two very necessary sun-soaked tunes for any self-respecting dj on neat black vinyl. And yes, it's a limited edition!

Videosphere, the debut album by Kompakt’s latest signing, the London-based artist Lake Turner (aka Andrew Halford), swoons into focus with “The Sunbird”, a teasing drift of lilting, ambient tones, riding out a submerged piston-pulse rhythm. Across its brief 109 seconds, it manages to traverse evocative terrain – something mythopoetic, something both humble and grandiose, a glimpse of the other behind the sky’s curtain. “I wanted to conjure up something resembling an ancient ceremony or death procession,” Turner nods. “Like a hymn to the surroundings of a faraway hill.” It’s both sky-bound and earthen, a ritual incantation to call in the music of the spheres.

Turner was introduced to the Kompakt family by his sometime collaborator Yannis Philippakis of Foals. He’d previously made music in post-punk and indie groups Great Eskimo Hoax and Trophy Wife, but Videosphere is the first time he’s fully articulated his own vision of electronic music, aside from one limited lathe-cut 12”, 2018’s Prime Mover EP, on Algebra. The lush ambient-disco-techno dreams of Videosphere were constructed and completed in his London studio and at his parents’ arable and sheep farm in Worcestershire, which might help explain the hazy, unhurried pastoralism of the album.

“There was a slight bittersweetness in finishing the record (in Worcestershire) as my parents were in the middle of selling my childhood home,” he sighs, before quipping, “on the plus, I ended up shearing a lot of sheep over the summer.” A student of archaeology and ancient history, Turner is no doubt carefully attuned to the twisting cogs of history and memory, and it’s no surprise that Videosphere has a nostalgic, melancholic cast; much of its beauty rests in the way it tugs, gently, at the heart strings – see the tear-stained cheeks of the lush, dappled “Honeycomb”, or the sweetly sad electro-roundelay of “No Way Back Forever.”

It’s not all drift-dream hypnosis, though – Videosphere is very much grounded in the now. ““No Way Back Forever” is a nod to the linear nature of time,” Turner explains by way of example, “and the tipping point of the world climate crisis that scientists have now declared.” Jayne Powell’s vocals are sent spinning through the song, wound like candyfloss; she takes centre stage on the techno hymnal title track, too. Throughout, there’s a sense of forward movement, despite the life stasis we find ourselves collectively bound by in mid-2020; there’s also a yearning for the communal, for community, that’s captured in the album title, a nod to an object Turner encountered at London’s Geoffrey Museum, “a television set in the shape of a spaceman’s helmet from the 1970s.”

“The vision I loosely had was to make an electronic record that had a communal warmth and almost ceremonial or ritual feel. I wanted to examine the relationship of our archaic minds in the trappings of the modern world,” Turner concludes. “What the Videosphere also symbolizes for me is the oneness of humanity and community, prevailing.”
Eröffnet wird "Videosphere", das Debütalbum von Kompakts jüngstem Signing, dem in London ansässigen Künstler Lake Turner (alias Andrew Halford), mit "The Sunbird" - einem herausfordernden Strom aus Ambient Sounds, die zu schweben scheinen, um sich dann in einen subtilen, maschinellen Rhythmus zu verwandeln. In gerade mal 109 Sekunden gelingt es dem Stück, ein gewaltiges Terrain abzuschreiten - etwas Mythopoetisches, bescheiden und grandios zugleich, gibt uns eine Ahnung davon, was sich hinter dem Himmel verbirgt. "Ich wollte etwas heraufbeschwören, das einer alten Zeremonie oder Totenprozession ähnelt", sagt Turner, "wie eine Hymne an die Umgebung eines weit entfernten Hügels." Himmlisch und irdisch zugleich, eine rituelle Beschwörung von Sphärenmusik.

Der Kompakt Label-Familie wurde Turner von dessen zeitweiligen Mitarbeiter Yannis Philippakis (Foals) vorgestellt. Zuvor hatte er in den Post Punk- und Indie-Bands Great Eskimo Hoax und Trophy Wife gespielt. Bis auf eine limitierte lathe-cut 12", der "Prime Mover EP" auf Algebra von 2018, artikuliert Turner mit "Videosphere" zum ersten Mal seine eigene Vision von elektronischer Musik.

Die üppigen Ambient-Disco-Techno-Träume von "Videosphere" hat Turner in seinem Londoner Studio und auf der Schaffarm seiner Eltern in Worcestershire produziert, was den nebulösen, gemächlichen und beinahe pastoralen Charakter des Albums erklären könnte.

"Es gab einen bittersüßen Moment als ich mit der Platte (in Worcestershire) fertig geworden war, da meine Eltern gerade dabei waren, das Haus meiner Kindheit zu verkaufen", seufzt er, bevor er witzelt, "das Positive war, dass ich im Laufe des Sommers eine Menge Schafe geschoren habe". Als Student der Archäologie und der Geschichte des Altertums ist Turner zweifellos mit den sich unaufhörlich drehenden Rädern der Geschichte und der daran geknüpften Erinnerungen vertraut, und es ist keine Überraschung, dass "Videosphere" einen nostalgischen, melancholischen Einschlag hat; viel von seiner Schönheit liegt in der Art und Weise, wie es einem sanft ans Herz geht - die Tränen benetzten Wangen von "Honeycomb" oder der ambivalente Elektro-Reigen von "No Way Back Forever".

Trotz allem hypnotischen Driften und Träumen - Videosphere ist sehr stark im Jetzt verankert. "`No Way Back Forever`ist eine Anspielung auf die lineare Natur der Zeit", erklärt Turner beispielhaft, "und auf den Wendepunkt der globalen Klimakrise, den Wissenschaftler gerade ausgerufen haben". Jayne Powells Gesang wirbelt dabei wie Zuckerwatte durch den Song und steht auch im Mittelpunkt des technoid hymnischen Titelstücks. Überall ist ein Gefühl der Vorwärtsbewegung zu spüren, trotz der Stagnation, in der wir uns Mitte 2020 kollektiv befinden; trotzdem existiert eine Sehnsucht nach dem Gemeinsamen, nach Gemeinschaft, die im Albumtitel eingefangen ist - eine Referenz an ein Objekt, dem Turner im Londoner Geoffrey-Museum begegnete, "ein Fernsehgerät in Form eines Raumfahrerhelms aus den 1970er Jahren".

„Die lose Vision, die ich hatte, bestand darin, eine elektronische Platte zu machen, die eine soziale Wärme und eine fast zeremonielle oder rituelle Atmosphäre ausstrahlt. Ich wollte die Beziehung unseres archaischen Geistes in den Fallstricken der modernen Welt untersuchen", so Turner abschließend. "Was `Videosphere` für mich auch symbolisiert, ist die Einheit von Menschlichkeit und Gemeinschaft, die am Ende obsiegt".

Ai Aso’s immaculately crafted form of minimalist pop music skirts the edges of tensity with the manner and with the skill of a tight rope walker, calmly balancing repeatedly at every step, with a combination of surety and the risk of a slip, a fall, and an unknown uncoiling of events. Aso's capacity to capture, or inspire, the tension and attention from within the listener and observer are quite pronounced. At Aso's concert the performance constantly teeters near the brink, a sharpened awareness in the hall emerges from all observing, with the will of that most delicate balance. On “The Faintest Hint” she brings a meta level to the proceedings, the dream of a singer in a bright sunlit room in the centre of the density of the society, simply and precisely searching for single ideas, single tones, a sense of sensuality and even a dream of a grandeur (rock dream) emerge. A stillness prevails, even a sharp set of instances of dreaming, melancholia, nostalgia… or even saudade. The album was recorded, mixed & mastered by Soichiro Nakamura at Peace Music between 2018-2020. Atsuo and I joined these sessions as producers, and moreso as catalysts, yet also became the skeleton of a band on the album (with the tender touch). The legendary Japanese rock band Boris accompany Aso on two pieces. A faintest hint of sharpness and la tendresse féroce quickly erodes into a fine brief cloud of the purest crystalline dust.

–Stephen O'Malley, Stockholm June 2020

For Farsight, California’s bucolic San Geronimo Valley was the space that allowed for the creation of this handpicked selection of artistic output. Following a period of deep interest in abstract painting and its relationship to music, the artist found this lush and sparsely populated region to be an ideal location for contemplation and composition.

Although the majority of the work was executed in the first two months of 2020 in this forested setting, some of the pieces were based upon drafts created as early as Summer 2017. United in their eclecticism, the six cuts that comprise “Not Here, But Somewhere'' reveal a broad spectrum of musical influences. They are statements in an age in which influence is omni-directional, and in which the pace of artistic invention outstrips the ability of observers to identify and reify sub-genres. Although each track presents a unique approach, “Cadena,” “Sans Titre,” and “Door to the River'' reflect the continuing global suffusion of Latin American and Carribean styles such as reggaeton and dancehall. Simultaneously, the duo of “While” and “Hot Half” suggest the ongoing dialogue of techno, electro, and industrial music and the interstices between them. “Mid-Winter Burning Sun”
invokes the intensity of American trap music with its booming bass while touching equally upon the feel of early dubstep.

Ultimately, the idea that there is a “space for each artist” can be taken both in a literal sense— One’s physical environment— And also in the figurative sense that there is room enough for the ideas of all artists, who are kindred spirits in the endeavor of radical self-expression. In this way, “Not Here, But Somewhere” exists as an acknowledgement and gesture of goodwill towards every artist daring enough to explore the unknown.

ALTER is proud to present ‘Tendrils’, the first LP release from London based artist & musician Malvern Brume. After gathering some hushed praise from the UK underground for a couple of excellent cassette releases and strong local live performances, ‘Tendrils’ is the first definitive document of the Malvern Brume sound world. His instrumentation and sound sources would be considered familiar staples in the world of “experimental” music, but Salter does an admirable job of making them his own. Comprised of 8 pieces, this is electronic music at its core but a kind that sounds as if it’s being played through fog. Like spores growing on a damp surface. Densely composed and thick with an almost asphyxiating atmosphere - even during the record’s more minimal moments - track titles like ‘Caught In The Exhaust Trails’ and ‘Sunk Into Plastics’ only heighten the tone further.

Salter was originally born in the countryside and since relocated to London, a place he finds “over stimulating in every sense”. Much of ‘Tendrils’ could be taken as a response to the city and a means of equating the two. Camberwell is listed as the location for composition, but field recordings are attributed to rural landmarks. The Rollright Stones on the Oxfordshire / Warwickshire border and Seven Sisters Cliffs by the English Channel are two in case, but despite their picturesque origins Salter renders them into abstract clatter. As if dubbed from the private tape archive of an old eccentric. In addition, synthesised electronic tones hum and buzz, occasionally giving away to strange, slurring sequences that sound like lost transmissions from the radiophonic workshop. Despite the nod to this electronic music institution, it’s lacking the sincere level of esteem that can turn one into a heritage act. There is a strangeness and distant other worldliness to the music that feels unselfconscious and keeps Malvern Brume from being easy to define by contemporary terms.

Salter says the album is defined by movement and the environments that have inspired him over the years. In his own words, “each of these tracks is inspired by a journey or moving through a space, not in a wishy-washy cosmic sense but more as a practical A to B.” With that in mind, ‘Tendrils’ is perfect music for solitary inner-city marshland walks and urban bike rides to forgotten local suburbs.