Cerca:seven apart

Written and produced by Dave Clark

Celebrating our 20th release, Glasgow's Dave Clark returns to Optimo Trax as Sparky. He was responsible for the third release on the label as LUMA which featured the club smash "John Broadwood" and recently had another big club hit with "Signals" on Numbers. We are delighted to welcome him back in what is a contunuation of a relationship that stretches back further than we care to remember.

All four tracks here are certified dancefloor winners; from the reach for the lasers, kickless "Things Fall Apart" through the synth rhapsodies of "Black Swan" and "My Prophet", climaxing in the jacking "Seven Daggers". All killer, no filler is often a trite cliche in these blurbs but is entirely true in the case of this EP.

Four track 12" EP (and digital release) released on April 22nd 2016. Distributed by Kompakt and Rub A Dub.

'Double Seven, released by Trojan in late 1973, was the last album Lee 'Scratch' Perry would release on the label for some considerable time, and it was essentially the final album project he put together before establishing his own Black Ark studio. Opening track 'Kentucky Skank' sets the tone with a slow creeper whose frying sounds underscore its role as a praise song to the Colonel's KFC recipes; the cosmic Moog blips come courtesy of Ken Elliott at Camden's Chalk Farm studio, also prominently featured on U-Roy's double-tracked, stereo-panned gambling ode 'Double Six.' David Isaacs' 'Just Enough' was cut a few years prior, which makes it slightly out of phase with the rest of the set, though the enigmatic 'In The Iaah' sounds mightily fresh, with its uncredited chorus said to come courtesy of the Wailers. Perry's own 'Jungle Lion' has hilarious roars from the maestro at the start, strangely grafted atop a reggae re-make of Al Green's 'Love and Happiness.'

'Overall, Double Seven melds the soul, funk, reggae and dub elements that were constant in Perry's work during this phase. His enhanced audio spectrum and endless reference points would keep his music continually apart from that made by his peers.'
—David Katz (excerpt from the liner notes)

2026 Repress

The tenth edition of the Early Morning label stands as both a milestone and a statement of intent. In just a single year, its founder has reshaped theunderground dance music landscape with a catalog that redefined thepossibilities of the genre. This latest release features two new pieces thattogether form a tightly woven conceptual work spanning nearly seventeenminutes.



Guy Jhas built his reputation on reinvention. Each release feels less like acontinuation of his past and more like a step into uncharted terrain. On theopening track, Worlds Apart, he fuses an emotive core with intricate sounddesign and spatial experimentation, leading listeners into liminal states whereconsciousness and subconsciousness blur. Despite its cerebral qualities, thepiece never loses its pulse, the steady momentum thatkeeps it firmly anchoredto the dancefloor.



True tothe label's name, this is music designed for dawn, for moments of release aftera long night, for embraces on crowded floors, for the intangible bonds thatform through shared experience. The second track, Surreal, pushes further intoabstraction. While echoes of early trance, a genre that shaped Guy J during hisformative years, are evident, the piece reframes those influences through aprogressive, hypnotic, and technologically refined lens. It is this ability toblend memory with innovation that distinguishes Guy J from his peers, offeringlisteners not just music but a reimagined space in which sound itself becomesan act of discovery.


Tracklist

Bringing together the elder statesman of the Zulu guitar Madala Kunene and internationally acclaimed Sibusile Xaba, kwaNTU pulls two generations of South African guitar mastery into a single point of focus. Under-represented on recordings outside of South Africa, Madala Kunene (b. 1951), the ‘King of the Zulu Guitar’, is revered as the greatest living master of the Zulu guitar tradition. Sibusile Xaba, whose collaboration with Mushroom Hour Half Hour reaches back to his first recording in 2017 (Open Letter To Adoniah/Unlearning), has garnered international acclaim for his unique voice and virtuoso guitar stylings, which bring together multiple South African guitar lineages in an original, spiritualised fusion. Collaborating with Mushroom Hour and New Soil for kwaNTU, the two players come together to weave a filigree sonic fabric which reaches down to the heartwood of Zulu guitar music but moves resolutely outward, building on the past to create a deeply rooted statement about present conditions and future travels. kwaNTU – which can be roughly translated ‘the place of the life-spirit’ – is also conclave of teacher and student, as Xaba has been taught by Kunene for the last decade. Meditative, rich and sonically sui generis, kwaNTU finds these two musicians linking up within the inimitable space of sound and spirit that they share through Kunene’s teaching.

The great masters of South African music have not all had equal exposure. For many years the generation of musicians who were exiled during apartheid took centre stage, as the regime made it very difficult for those at home to be heard. More recently, a new cohort of important voices, especially in jazz, has broken through to international consciousness. But for the generation of musicians in between – those who shone like beacons in the most difficult final years of apartheid and immediately afterward – international recognition has been slow in coming.

Madala Kunene, ‘the King of the Zulu Guitar’, is among this number. A revered figure for current generations of South African musicians, Kunene began his recording career in 1990, at the bitter end of apartheid, with a now classic self-titled LP for David Marks’ storied Third Ear imprint. Born in 1951 in Cato Manor, near Durban, he had determined to be a musician from early childhood, and by the time he first entered a recording studio he had already had a long career as a popular performer. His virtuoso absorption and transformation of the venerable Zulu maskanda guitar tradition and his richly spiritualised approach to music immediately marked him out as someone special, and in the years that followed, Kunene cemented his position as one of South Africa’s musical elders. He is without doubt the grand master of the Zulu guitar tradition, but his sound and sensibility ranges far beyond it into varied sonic terrain, and he has collaborated with a wide range of musicians both at home and abroad. Now in his mid-seventies, he remains a shining light for those that are making music in contemporary South Africa.

‘He is really an amazing person,’ says the guitarist Sibusile Xaba, who has been mentored by Kunene for over a decade, and now invites a collaboration with him on kwaNTU. ‘As a mentor, he's really powerful in showing us the way. For us to have this opportunity to make music together and have a project together is really a blessing to me.’

Xaba himself grew up in Newcastle, KwaZulu-Natal, where his mother had been in a band and his father sang in a church choir, and from early childhood Xaba played homemade tin guitars. He only later realised that music was his calling. ‘I just loved music. I was fortunate. My parents loved music. And when it was time for me to leave home and go to study outside Newcastle, I knew that music was what I wanted to do. There was no second option. It was just music.’ Moving to Pretoria to study music formally, Xaba committed himself to his craft, developing a unique style that draws on both US jazz masters such as Wes Montgomery and Jim Hall, and the rich and varied heritage of the South African guitar, from inspirational jazz players such as Allen Kwela and Enoch Mthalane, to the music of the Malombo groups and Dr. Philip Tabane (Xaba has previously collaborated with Dr. Tabane’s late son, Thabang), and the Zulu guitar tradition embodied by Kunene.

‘I was really in love with the jazz guitar, I really admired it, and I was digging a lot in that direction,’ says Xaba, recalling his first encounter with Kunene’s music, over a decade ago. ‘And then one day on my timeline, Kunene popped up, and I was like – “What's this sound?” I was so connected to it. It really touched me deep. I started checking out his records, and then I found out he's from the same region as I am, which is Zululand.’ After Kunene played a show at the Afrikan Freedom Station in Johannesburg, Xaba make contact with him, and visited him at home in Durban. They struck up a friendship, and Xaba became the elder’s student, as Kunene began to pass on his knowledge and his inimitable way of playing.

kwaNTU is a tribute to this relationship and the deep learning that has defined it. The album was recorded in Zululand in the town of Utrecht, at a cultural centre called Kwantu Village, which gives its name to the album. ‘It's such a broad word,’ Xaba says, ‘but the elders teach us that Ntu is basically an energy, almost chi, an energy, a force that all living beings have within them. It's a living energy, so kwaNTU is like, almost the place of this energy.’ The two men sequestered themselves for five days of jamming, improvising and planning, and then the session was recorded in one take over a single night, with Gontse Makhene joining on percussion and backing vocals and Fakazile on vocals. Other voices and overdubs were later added in the studio in Johannesburg.

The result is a rich and meditative recording that finds two generations in a deeply engaged dialogue. Teaching and passing on his knowledge, the elder Kunene has brought Xaba into a space of sound and knowledge that they now share; Xaba’s own practice of deep communion with nature and his dedication to his musical craft make him the perfect interlocutor for Kunene. The result is an album that foregrounds the two musicians engaged at the highest levels of responsive listening, sympathetic unity, and collaborative concentration. Bringing an elder statesman of South African music to an international listening audience for the first time in decades by pairing him with one of South Africa’s most important new voices, kwaNTU is a meeting of generations and a powerful demonstration of musical lineage and continuity.

‘Before music, there is sound,’ Xaba observes, speaking of Kunene’s unique approach to music. ‘And sound is like a common compartment…it's not restricted to particular people or particular geographic places, you know what I mean? It's sound. Everybody can hear it. So when he constructs that sound into music, I think everybody resonates with the energy behind his construction of sound into song. Here at home, we really love him for preserving our history through the guitar, through his stories as well the music, the songs that he writes. We really, really admire him.’

Googling “paradise house”, the first results to pop up are an endless list of European b&b’s with whitewashed lime façades, all of them promising “…an unmatched travel experience a few steps from the sea”. Next, a little further down, are the institutional websites of a few select semi-luxury retirement homes (no photos shown, but lots of stock images of smiling nurses with reassuring looks). To find the “paradise house” we’re after, we have to scroll even further down. Much further down.

It feels like yesterday, and at the same time it seems like a million years ago. The Eighties had just ended, and it was still unclear what to expect from the Nineties. Mobile phones that were not the size of a briefcase and did not cost as much as a car? A frightening economic crisis? The guitar-rock revival?! Certainly, the best place to observe that moment of transition was the dancefloor. Truly epochal transformations were happening there. From America, within a short distance one from the other, two revolutionary new musical styles had arrived: the first one sounded a bit like an “on a budget” version of the best Seventies disco-music – Philly sound made with a set of piano-bar keyboards! – the other was even more sparse, futuristic and extraterrestrial. It was a music with a quite distinct “physical” component, which at the same time, to be fully grasped, seemed to call for the knotty theories of certain French post-modern philosophers: Gilles Deleuze, Félix Guattari, Paul Virilio... Both those genres – we would learn shortly after – were born in the black communities of Chicago and Detroit, although listening to those vinyl 12” (often wrapped in generic white covers, and with little indication in the label) you could not easily guess whether behind them there was a black boy from somewhere in the Usa, or a girl from Berlin, or a pale kid from a Cornish coastal town.

Quickly, similar sounds began to show up from all corners of Europe. A thousand variations of the same intuition: leaner, less lean, happier, slightly less intoxicated, more broken, slower, faster, much faster... Boom! From the dancefloors – the London ones at least, whose chronicles we eagerly read every month in the pages of The Face and i-D – came tales of a new generation of clubbers who had completely stopped “dressing up” to go dancing; of hot tempered hooligans bursting into tears and hugging everyone under the strobe lights as the notes of Strings of Life rose up through the fumes of dry ice (certain “smiling” pills were also involved, sure). At this point, however, we must move on to Switzerland.

In Switzerland, in the quiet and diligent town of Lugano, between the 1980s and 1990s there was a club called “Morandi”. Its hot night was on Wednesdays, when the audience also came from Milan, Como, Varese and Zurich. Legend goes that, one night, none less than Prince and Sheila E were spotted hiding among the sofas, on a day-off of the Italian dates of the Nude Tour… The Wednesday resident and superstar was an Italian dj with an exotic name: Don Carlos. The soundtrack he devised was a mixture of Chicago, Detroit, the most progressive R&B and certain forgotten classics of old disco music: practically, what the Paradise Garage in New York might have sounded like had it not closed in 1987. In between, Don Carlos also managed to squeeze in some tracks he had worked on in his studio on Lago Maggiore. One in particular: a track that was rather slow compared to the BPM in fashion at the time, but which was a perfect bridge between house and R&B. The title was Alone: Don Carlos would explain years later that it had to be intended both in the English meaning of “by itself” and like the Italian word meaning “halo”. That wasn’t the only double entendre about the song, anyway. Its own very deep nature was, indeed, double. On the one hand, Alone was built around an angelic keyboard pattern and a romantic piano riff that took you straight to heaven; on the other, it showcased enough electronic squelches (plus a sax part that sounded like it had been dissolved by acid rain) to pigeonhole the tune into the “junk modernity” section, aka the hallmark of all the most innovative sounds of the time: music that sounded like it was hand-crafted from the scraps of glittering overground pop.

No one knows who was the first to call it “paradise house”, nor when it happened. Alternative definitions on the same topic one happened to hear included “ambient house”, “dream house”, “Mediterranean progressive”… but of course none were as good (and alluring) as “paradise house”. What is certain is that such inclination for sounds that were in equal measure angelic and neurotic, romantic and unaffective, quickly became the trademark of the second generation of Italian house. Music that seemed shyly equidistant from all the rhythmic and electronic revolutions that had happened up to that moment (“Music perfectly adept at going nowhere slowly” as noted by English journalist Craig McLean in a legendary field report for Blah Blah Blah magazine). Music that to a inattentive ear might have sounded as anonymous as a snapshot of a random group of passers-by at 10AM in the centre of any major city, but perfectly described the (slow) awakening in the real world after the universal love binge of the so-called Second Summer of Love.

For a brief but unforgettable season, in Italy “paradise house” was the official soundtrack of interminable weekends spent inside the car, darting from one club to another, cutting the peninsula from North to centre, from East to West coast in pursuit of the latest after-hours disco, trading kilometres per hour with beats per minute: practically, a new New Year’s Eve every Friday and Saturday night. This too was no small transformation, as well as a shock for an adult Italy that was encountering for the first time – thanks to its sons and daughters – the wild side of industrial modernity. The clubbers of the so-called “fuoriorario” scene were the balls gone mad in the pinball machine most feared by newspapers, magazines and TV pundits. What they did each and every weekend, apart from going crazy to the sound of the current white labels, was linking distant geographical points and non-places (thank you Marc Augé!) – old dance halls, farmhouses and business centres – transformed for one night into house music heaven. As Marco D’Eramo wrote in his 1995 essay on Chicago, Il maiale e il grattacielo: “Four-wheeled capitalism distorts our age-old image of the city, it allows the suburbs to be connected to each other, whereas before they were connected only by the centre (…) It makes possible a metropolitan area without a metropolis, without a city centre, without downtown. The periphery is no longer a periphery of any centre, but is self-centred”.

“Paradise house” perfectly understood all of this and turned it into a sort of cyber-blues that didn’t even need words, and unexpectedly brought back a drop of melancholic (post?)-humanity within a world that by then – as we would wholly realise in the decades to come – was fully inhuman and heartless. A world where we were all alone, and surrounded by a sinister yellowish halo, like a neon at the end of its life cycle. But, for one night at least, happy."

The Alarm 40th Anniversary release History Repeating is new Double CD and LP collection. The CD features 44 of The Alarm’s biggest singles and greatest songs and the double LP features 27.
Spanning all eras of The Alarm Timeline, History Repeating brings together all of the band’s ‘Crown Jewels’, including a brand new and previously unreleased recording of the title track.
History Repeating features all of the keynote tracks that have helped create The Alarm’s phenomenal and loyally dedicated following. The Double CD comes in a replica LP gatefold sleeve configuration and is the most comprehensive ‘Best Of’ ever released by the group since 1998’s Best of The Alarm and Mike Peters.
The Double LP comes in a gatefold configuration and is the first ‘Best Of’ compilation to appear on vinyl since 1990’s Standards. This is the record every single Alarm fan will want to own with its distinctive Red Poppy cover and beautiful depiction of The Alarm family across the inner gatefold.
Upon release, lead singer Mike Peters will be hosting a series of completely SOLD OUT Alarm Rock and Roll Staycations in the band’s hometown while telling the story of The Alarm through thealarms internet broadcast platform
The Big Night In, that will feature weekly shows dedicated to every single year of the band’s history.
In 2022, a major touring itinerary begins with the already SOLD OUT official 40th Anniversary Concert in St. David’s Hall, Cardiff Wales on January 21st 2022 followed by an international 40th Anniversary concert schedule all the way through to 2023.

2025 Reissue.



Münchenbuchsee, a suburb of Bern, Switzerland. Stephan Eicher is the youngest of three children. His father, a radio and TV repairman, is also a jazz violinist and a sound tinkerer in his spare time. In the family home's converted fallout shelter turned studio, Mr. Eicher experiments with homemade sequencers, tortures handcrafted drum machines, and abuses reel-to-reel tape recorders—all under the fascinated gaze of young Stephan.

The boy quickly develops a musical curiosity, exploring sound through various experiments and wanderings. Alongside his younger brother Martin, Stephan crafts audio plays on a homemade multi-track recorder (essentially several cassette decks hooked together!), which they write, record, add sound effects to, and perform for family and friends. Just a couple of nice kids, really...

Then comes 1972, and Lou Reed's Transformer album changes everything for the Eicher kids. For 13-year-old Stephan, it's a revelation—especially "Vicious", the opening track, which he plays on repeat for months. He convinces his father to buy him an electric guitar. Not stopping there, his father also builds him a tube amp using an old radio.

Then comes adolescence. A rough one. Stephan leaves home at 16 and moves to Zurich. With obvious artistic talent, he persuades his art teacher to help him get into F+F, a radical, alternative art school—despite his young age. Accepted, he starts learning video techniques, determined to become a filmmaker.

At F+F, Stephan organizes Dada-style happenings and concerts with a group of friends known as the Noise Boys. Among them: one of his teachers on bass, Veit Stauffer on drums (who would later found ReR/Recommended Records), his girlfriend Sacha on vocals, and Stephan on guitar. In one of their early performances, they release a remote-controlled mouse covered in dull razor blades into the audience to create panic and chaos. Keeping with this aggressive, confrontational spirit, they once played a concert while wearing headphones blasting Tristan and Isolde, trying to perform their own songs simultaneously—to maximize the cacophony. The goal was always the same: clear the room.

Their “songs,” if you can call them that, followed suit. Take "Hungeriges Afrika", for instance—performed entirely with power drills and some drum feedback.

To make ends meet, Stephan returns to Bern on weekends to work as a waiter at the Spex Club, the city’s main punk venue. On September 16, 1980, during a show by proto-electro group Starter, the police raid the club and arrest everyone. Stephan, who manages to avoid arrest, seizes the opportunity to “borrow” Starter’s gear left behind. He suddenly finds himself in possession of a Roland Promars synth, a Korg MS20, and a gorgeous CR78 drum machine, which he runs through a Big Muff distortion pedal to get that perfect gritty sound.

He then sets out to reinterpret some Noise Boys tracks, reworking them during impromptu sessions recorded on a dictaphone (yes, a dictaphone—now the lo-fi sound makes more sense, doesn’t it?). He ironically titles the resulting cassette "Stephan Eicher spielt Noise Boys" ("Stephan Eicher plays Noise Boys"). This gem features seven tracks, which are the ones reissued here.

Back in Zurich, he visits his friends Andrew Moore and Robert Vogel, who have a DIY cassette duplication setup. They make 25 copies of Stephan Eicher spielt Noise Boys for Stephan and his friends. Robert encourages him to visit Urs Steiger of Off Course Records and play him the tape.

Without much hope, Stephan shows up at Urs’s office. But Urs is instantly hooked and suggests releasing a 7” single. Due to space constraints, they reluctantly drop two of the seven tracks ("Hungeriges Afrika" and "One Second"). As for the musical score featured on the cover—it was randomly chosen and remains a mystery to this day. Calling all music theory nerds!

The 7-inch is pressed in 750 copies and released in the first week of December 1980—a date Stephan remembers well, as it’s the same week John Lennon was killed. Smartly, Urs sends a promo copy to François Murner, Switzerland’s answer to John Peel, who hosts a show on alternative station Sounds. Murner falls in love with the record and starts giving it airtime. To Stephan’s surprise, sales follow—and people actually seem interested in his music.

Even this modest underground success scares Stephan a bit. He stops making music for a year and moves to Bologna, where he works as a programmer at Radio Città, a feminist radio station.

Meanwhile, Stephan’s younger brother Martin, who’s also involved in the punk scene, joins the band Glueams as a singer and guitarist. Glueams, named after the fanzine run by two of its members (drummer Marco Repetto and bassist GT), eventually rebrands as Grauzone. Stephan is invited to their shows to project hacked Super 8 visuals live on stage.

Urs Steiger, now working on a compilation titled Swiss Wave – The Album, asks Grauzone to contribute alongside bands like Liliput, Jack and the Rippers, The Sick, and Ladyshave (Fall 1980).

For the album, Martin tasks Stephan with producing their recording sessions. Under Stephan's artistic direction, two tracks emerge: "Raum" and "Eisbär". During "Eisbär", Martin plays a minimalist bass line borrowed from post-punk band The Feelies (just an open string). Drummer Marco Repetto struggles to keep time. Later that evening, unhappy with the takes, Stephan builds a four-bar drum loop from a ¼-inch tape and uses it instead of the flawed original. He then adds bleepy synths and wind sounds to complete the track’s icy vibe before handing it over to Urs.

The Swiss Wave – The Album compilation is released quietly at first, but things snowball thanks to "Eisbär", which eventually becomes a smash hit—selling over 600,000 singles.

Meanwhile, Stephan plays in a rockabilly band called SMUV (named after Switzerland’s social security agency) and begins producing artists, including the debut album of Starter (1981), which includes a more pop-oriented version of "Minijupe".

By early 1982, Stephan starts spending time with the post-punk girl band Liliput (formerly Kleenex). They’re older than him, and he happily drives them around in his Renault Major, acting as their roadie.

By 1983, Grauzone—signed to the major label EMI, which turned out to be a misstep—is falling apart. Stephan begins to pivot toward a more mainstream pop sound with his debut solo album Les Chansons Bleues.

But that... is already another story.

Calvin Love is a Canadian singer-songwriter, composer, and producer from Edmonton, Alberta, now based between Edmonton and Los Angeles. With a sound that blends noir-tinged folk‑pop, crooning rock ’n’ roll, and cinematic storytelling, Love has become a distinctive voice in the international indie landscape. His music has drawn comparisons to Roy Orbison, Leonard Cohen, and Bryan Ferry, with Aquarium Drunkard describing his work as “a crestfallen soundtrack of near‑escape… like Chris Isaak trapped in a David Lynch film.”
Since his debut New Radar (2012), Love has released a run of acclaimed records including Super Future (Arts & Crafts, 2015), Highway Dancer (2018), Night Songs (2020), and Lavender (2021). Along the way, he has collaborated with renowned producers and artists such as Gus Seyffert (Beck, Roger Waters, Black Keys) and the late Richard Swift (The Shins, Damien Jurado), while earning coverage from outlets including SPIN, The Fader, Interview Magazine, and Stereogum.
A seasoned live performer, Love has toured extensively across North America, Europe, and Asia, appearing at festivals such as SXSW, Pop Montréal, Strawberry Festival (China), Endless Daze (South Africa), and Sled Island. He has shared stages with Morrissey, Mac DeMarco, Courtney Barnett, Jonathan Wilson, The Divine Fits, and Jim James, performing in iconic venues like Carnegie Hall, The Troubadour, and Hollywood Forever Cemetery.
In early February 2026, Love releases his seventh studio album, Throw My Shadow To The Sun — a bold, visceral statement that captures him at a new creative peak. Self‑produced and recorded by Reverend Baron at The Ladder Factory in East Los Angeles, the album channels raw, unfiltered energy into a late‑night rock ’n’ roll atmosphere built on moody grooves, gritty textures, and Love’s unmistakable croon.
The sessions brought together a formidable live band: Josh Da Costa (Drugdealer) on drums, Brent Randall (Vanity Mirror) on bass, Davey Chegwidden (De La Soul, Ghostface Killah, Raekwon, Too Short) on percussion, Jeremy Brian Gill (Curtis Harding) on tenor saxophone and flutes, Daniel E. Garcia (Reverend Baron) on lead guitars, and multi‑instrumentalist Laena Myers (White Fence, Orville Peck, El Mariachi Bronx) on violin.
From the hypnotic sway of “Underneath It All,” to the reverb‑drenched sax of “Forever Feels,” to the heavy sludge‑rock crush of “Setting Sun,” Throw My Shadow To The Sun draws from the lyrical storytelling of Dire Straits, the laid‑back blues of JJ Cale, and the timeless melodic drama of Roy Orbison. The result is a cohesive, lived‑in record that transforms fleeting moments and late‑night impressions into something enduring and cinematic.

Nearly 40 years ago A.O.A. and OI POLLOI joined forces to condemn what they saw as an Unlimited Genocide. Fast forward to 2025 and nothing has changed for the better, with everybody witnessing a genocide unfolding in front of our eyes daily, while humanity hits rocks bottom. So Sealed Record decided it was the right time to bring back this classic slice of Scottish punks and skins protest music.
Originally released on the ever impressive Children of the Revolution Records Unlimited Genocide features the hardest side of the OI POLLOI vast catalogue. Full of rage and anger, tensely tuneful with earnest anarcho conviction. With A.O.A. On the flip side delivering seven tracks of full in your face hardcore punk, carrying the torch of the DISCHARGE influenced thrash of the era.
The record has a strong 80’s production and touches on green and environmental issues, apartheid, nuclear power, religion, vegetarianism and much more. It’s raw, direct and a great snapshot of an era that is often mimicked but never bettered.
This reissue has been remastered and includes a printed inner sleeve as well as a slightly altered artwork.

"We first became aware of the Florence-based composer Marco Baldini’s work via the incredible Another Timbre label.
"His albums, Vesperi and Maniera, blew us away. Maniera, Marco’s second album for the label consists of seven chamber works for strings, beautifully played by Apartment House. If for some reason you haven’t heard it go straight to Another Timbre’s Bandcamp and check it out! Vesperi, Marco’s first release on Another Timbre, from around a year before is also absolutely unmissable, it’s comprised of three pieces derived from works by 16th century Italian composers alongside original compositions.
"Both albums have provided much needed calm in turbulent times. Marco kindly accepted our invitation to compile a mixtape, and here it is! Thank you so much, Marco!"

Fit for Consequences: Original Recordings, 1984–1987 is the first ever archival release from Repetition Repetition, the “two-man electric minimalist band” consisting of Ruben Garcia and Steve Caton hailing from Los Angeles in the mid 1980’s. Repetition Repetition’s unique blend of cosmic art-rock minimalism / maximalism was self-released across a series of cassettes produced in micro editions, and while garnering the attention and participation of luminaries such as Harold Budd, remained under the radar during the band’s existence. Fit for Consequences: Original Recordings, 1984–1987 collects select material from across the duo’s catalog.

It was over a plate of Mexican breakfast food when Ruben Garcia and Steve Caton first told Harold Budd of Repetition Repetition and the worlds they intended to explore by respective way of synthesizers and guitars --- a rendezvous instigated by the former’s fan mail to the legendary composer. If the upstarts entered this restaurant from a one-way street of admiration, they would leave with not only Budd’s interest but, sometime later, a blessing in the wake of many hours shared by the three in Garcia’s Los Angeles home recording studio: “This is going to be difficult, but God help them, I think they’re great,” noted Budd in a USC lecture in 1985. Now several degrees removed from prior rock music aspirations, the real game was afoot.

Between 1984 and 1988, Repetition Repetition operated within something akin to the underground of the experimental underground, although even that designation perhaps overstates the case. The duo’s sparse output consisted of three cassettes self-released on Garcia’s Third Stone Music label: Repetition Repetition (1985), Lakeland (1987), and The Machinist (1987). Their songs would also be included during this period on Trance Port Tapes’ vital scene-scanning compilations assembled by A Produce. Live performances occurred with similar infrequency, but Garcia and Caton counted converts in quality over quantity, numbering among them the aforementioned Budd, a Chambers Brother, and, judging by a memorably drop-jawed reaction following a rare Repetition Repetition gig, Jackson Browne.

Likewise, critical support materialized in the form of KCRW deejays Brent Wilcox and Dean Suzuki, whose steady airplay positioned Repetition Repetition’s music amidst fearless company like Jon Hassell, Hiroshi Yoshimura, and Richard Horowitz. Yet, to hear fellow Trance Port featured players like Tom Recchion and Bruce Licher of Savage Republic tell it, Garcia and Caton moved as ghosts --- a notion more vexingly endorsed by the silence of record companies that failed to come knocking --- and therein lies an overarching truth to the work itself.

Journey to the heart of Repetition Repetition and one discovers a collective ear impossibly attuned to the hypnotic possibilities of stylistic convergence, the resulting music possessed of seamless multimodalities which beckon to a glimmering plane of the disembodied. Where Caton sought his artistic fixes at an intersection of popular genres, Garcia zoned in on the sonically spare, drawing from the same wellspring as the Enos and Rileys of his personal avant-garde pantheon, and in their coming together the two tapped into a deeper cosmic source. Synthetic walls of keyboard sound in forever states of reprise met waves of shimmering --- and at times even punishing --- guitar in reply, their soundscapes hovering convincingly between, as suggested in fittingly dualistic fashion in a press kit assembled by Garcia, such disparate sensations as bird flight in one song and oil drilling in the next.

But don’t call it a push-pull dynamic, as this was a creative partnership founded upon fluidity and organicism by way of, naturally, repetition. In contrast to, say, the Bressonian ideal of repetitive motion as a great stripping away, the concept in the hands of Garcia and Caton equated to ascendancy via continuous unfolding, a maximal route to minimalism. To be sure, their recording philosophy morphed over the course of the act’s short history, and what started as a process defined by consistent in-person interplay developed into a more isolated method formulated by Garcia, who eventually took to his own one-man bedroom-studio sessions in order to fully chart any and all potential ostinato-loaded paths which he could travel down, the Tascam-captured resonances subsequently provided to Caton as blueprints from which to take flight himself, adding layer upon layer of steel to the proceedings.

If the practice and execution changed, however, the evidence certainly didn’t rest in the results: The seamlessness remained, and, despite the brevity of their time together, so has Repetition Repetition. With this finely calibrated collection of songs in Fit for Consequences: Original Recordings, 1984–1987, Freedom To Spend sees to it that the private worlds of Garcia and Caton can now be visited by all rather than just the count-‘em-on-both-hands lucky few whose musical endeavors or collector vocations carried them into this once-distant dimension.

Repetition Repetition’s Fit for Consequences: Original Recordings, 1984–1987 will be released on Freedom To Spend in vinyl and digital editions on May 30, 2025. The collection includes extensive liner notes from Bill Perrine, and wil be offered alongside Over & Over, a supplemental collection of music available exclusively as a mail order cassette from Freedom To Spend and RVNG Intl.

An exclusive 7" re-release of this psychedelic funk ballad from Tulsa's "Outback" Band. As featured on Now-Again's 'More Loving On The Flipside' compilation, "Strangers (In Our Homeland)" epitomises the expression of social & political change during an era of psychedlia infused music. In partnership with the two surviving members of Outback, both Symphonical & Now-Again are proud to showcase the voice of independent artists.

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The origin of "Outback" dates back to the late 50s, a five-piece blues outfit named "Little Lo and the Rest of Us" included music educator & bass guitarist Edward "Cha-Cha" Cherry, saxophonists Eugene "Buggy" Roach & James "Flab" Farley whom, alongside drummer Roscoe J. Dabney III "Roach", Ronnie Wilson on trumpet, guitarists Roy "Rochester" Walker & Michael Collins, would form The Magnificent Seven, the house band for Tulsa's 'Rose Room'.


Alumni of Booker T. Washington High School, The Magnificent Seven influenced & set the standard for the Tulsa sound, as demonstrated through their only single, recorded in 1966, the two part 'Pluck-A-Pluck'. 'The Sevenettes', the groups' female vocal trio, included the rotation of Lena Luckey Wilson, Gwendolyn French, Rose Brewer Lewis, Jeanetta Williams & Maxayn. The Magnificent Seven, led by "Cha-Cha", toured nationally throughout the 60s with their infectious, raw R&B sound, and were the platform for many of Tulsa's talent including Ronnie & Charlie Wilson who would later create the GAP Band.


Roscoe J. Dabney III, the first Black Panther to establish the Tulsa chapter in 1969 known as the NCCF (National Committee to Combat Fascism), proposed the name change to "Outback" in the early 70s. Their sound & formation was changing from R&B to Psychedelic, from the grit to the phase, epitomised by their unique line-up of having two bassists playing simultaneously, both Reggie Cherry & "Chilly" Willie Lewis, the musical foundation to their only recorded single, "Strangers (In Our Homeland)" & "Reggie's Thang".


Song writer & band affiliate, Maurice Pope, produced the lyrics to "Strangers (In Our Homeland)" and handed over the musical attributes to Willie Lewis & Outback to convey his message, as sung by Lena Luckey Wilson. Dabney recalls the song is based on religious scriptures, whilst highlighting the parallel of Black slavery in the U.S.


"Reggie's Thang", written by Dabney's cousin, bassist Reggie Cherry, provides a psychedelic instrumental, a sound which Lena recalls is what set apart Outback from other Tulsa groups. As well as playing clubs, the seated shows provided an environment for the group to showcase their musicianship to those who wanted to be immersed & listen.


Their single, released on Empathy, was recorded in 1972, and are the only known recordings by Outback. Recorded live onto 8-track at a studio located at on East Pine St in the heart of Tulsa's Black community, an independent & unknown studio located on a strip mall.


The Outback members who recorded are:


Lena Luckey Wilson - Vocals

Roscoe J. Dabney III "Roach" - Drums

"Chilly" Willie Lewis - Bass

Reggie Cherry - Bass

Edward "Cha-Cha" Cherry - Keys

Joyce Daws - Trumpet

Roy Walker "Rochester" - Guitar

Robert Luckey "Uncle Bobby"- Percussion

Fredy Berry "Freddy" - Tenor Sax


Band leader & group manager: Edward "Cha-Cha" Cherry

Booking Agent: Ernie Fields Sr.

In 1973 whilst performing in Ft. Worth, TX, Buck Ram approached Willie Lewis backstage and invited him to join The Platters, Lewis accepted. Supposedly, a recording deal was offered to Outback in exchange, which never happened.


The group continued in various formations after Lewis left, however as an integral member, the feeling never equalled their original form and soon after dissolved.


Leon Russell approached Lena Lucky Wilson in 1974 to go on tour with the GAP Band as their backing singer, upon returning Tulsa Lena moved to Los Angeles to pursue her musical career with Leon & Mary Russell amongst various others.


Dabney continued music and became a TV producer & director in 1976.


The only surviving members of Outback today are Lena Luckey Wilson & Roscoe J. Dabney III.

Volume 1 of this expertly curated project of 90s Italian House - put together by Don Carlos.

If Paradise was half as nice… by Fabio De Luca.

Googling “paradise house”, the first results to pop up are an endless list of European b&b’s with whitewashed lime façades, all of them promising “…an unmatched travel experience a few steps from the sea”. Next, a little further down, are the institutional websites of a few select semi-luxury retirement homes (no photos shown, but lots of stock images of smiling nurses with reassuring looks). To find the “paradise house” we’re after, we have to scroll even further down. Much further down.

It feels like yesterday, and at the same time it seems like a million years ago. The Eighties had just ended, and it was still unclear what to expect from the Nineties. Mobile phones that were not the size of a briefcase and did not cost as much as a car? A frightening economic crisis? The guitar-rock revival?! Certainly, the best place to observe that moment of transition was the dancefloor. Truly epochal transformations were happening there. From America, within a short distance one from the other, two revolutionary new musical styles had arrived: the first one sounded a bit like an “on a budget” version of the best Seventies disco-music – Philly sound made with a set of piano-bar keyboards! – the other was even more sparse, futuristic and extraterrestrial. It was a music with a quite distinct “physical” component, which at the same time, to be fully grasped, seemed to call for the knotty theories of certain French post-modern philosophers: Gilles Deleuze, Félix Guattari, Paul Virilio... Both those genres – we would learn shortly after – were born in the black communities of Chicago and Detroit, although listening to those vinyl 12” (often wrapped in generic white covers, and with little indication in the label) you could not easily guess whether behind them there was a black boy from somewhere in the Usa, or a girl from Berlin, or a pale kid from a Cornish coastal town.

Quickly, similar sounds began to show up from all corners of Europe. A thousand variations of the same intuition: leaner, less lean, happier, slightly less intoxicated, more broken, slower, faster, much faster... Boom! From the dancefloors – the London ones at least, whose chronicles we eagerly read every month in the pages of The Face and i-D – came tales of a new generation of clubbers who had completely stopped “dressing up” to go dancing; of hot tempered hooligans bursting into tears and hugging everyone under the strobe lights as the notes of Strings of Life rose up through the fumes of dry ice (certain “smiling” pills were also involved, sure). At this point, however, we must move on to Switzerland.

In Switzerland, in the quiet and diligent town of Lugano, between the 1980s and 1990s there was a club called “Morandi”. Its hot night was on Wednesdays, when the audience also came from Milan, Como, Varese and Zurich. Legend goes that, one night, none less than Prince and Sheila E were spotted hiding among the sofas, on a day-off of the Italian dates of the Nude Tour… The Wednesday resident and superstar was an Italian dj with an exotic name: Don Carlos. The soundtrack he devised was a mixture of Chicago, Detroit, the most progressive R&B and certain forgotten classics of old disco music: practically, what the Paradise Garage in New York might have sounded like had it not closed in 1987. In between, Don Carlos also managed to squeeze in some tracks he had worked on in his studio on Lago Maggiore. One in particular: a track that was rather slow compared to the BPM in fashion at the time, but which was a perfect bridge between house and R&B. The title was Alone: Don Carlos would explain years later that it had to be intended both in the English meaning of “by itself” and like the Italian word meaning “halo”. That wasn’t the only double entendre about the song, anyway. Its own very deep nature was, indeed, double. On the one hand, Alone was built around an angelic keyboard pattern and a romantic piano riff that took you straight to heaven; on the other, it showcased enough electronic squelches (plus a sax part that sounded like it had been dissolved by acid rain) to pigeonhole the tune into the “junk modernity” section, aka the hallmark of all the most innovative sounds of the time: music that sounded like it was hand-crafted from the scraps of glittering overground pop.

No one knows who was the first to call it “paradise house”, nor when it happened. Alternative definitions on the same topic one happened to hear included “ambient house”, “dream house”, “Mediterranean progressive”… but of course none were as good (and alluring) as “paradise house”. What is certain is that such inclination for sounds that were in equal measure angelic and neurotic, romantic and unaffective, quickly became the trademark of the second generation of Italian house. Music that seemed shyly equidistant from all the rhythmic and electronic revolutions that had happened up to that moment (“Music perfectly adept at going nowhere slowly” as noted by English journalist Craig McLean in a legendary field report for Blah Blah Blah magazine). Music that to a inattentive ear might have sounded as anonymous as a snapshot of a random group of passers-by at 10AM in the centre of any major city, but perfectly described the (slow) awakening in the real world after the universal love binge of the so-called Second Summer of Love.

For a brief but unforgettable season, in Italy “paradise house” was the official soundtrack of interminable weekends spent inside the car, darting from one club to another, cutting the peninsula from North to centre, from East to West coast in pursuit of the latest after-hours disco, trading kilometres per hour with beats per minute: practically, a new New Year’s Eve every Friday and Saturday night. This too was no small transformation, as well as a shock for an adult Italy that was encountering for the first time – thanks to its sons and daughters – the wild side of industrial modernity. The clubbers of the so-called “fuoriorario” scene were the balls gone mad in the pinball machine most feared by newspapers, magazines and TV pundits. What they did each and every weekend, apart from going crazy to the sound of the current white labels, was linking distant geographical points and non-places (thank you Marc Augé!) – old dance halls, farmhouses and business centres – transformed for one night into house music heaven. As Marco D’Eramo wrote in his 1995 essay on Chicago, Il maiale e il grattacielo: “Four-wheeled capitalism distorts our age-old image of the city, it allows the suburbs to be connected to each other, whereas before they were connected only by the centre (…) It makes possible a metropolitan area without a metropolis, without a city centre, without downtown. The periphery is no longer a periphery of any centre, but is self-centred”.

“Paradise house” perfectly understood all of this and turned it into a sort of cyber-blues that didn’t even need words, and unexpectedly brought back a drop of melancholic (post?)-humanity within a world that by then – as we would wholly realise in the decades to come – was fully inhuman and heartless. A world where we were all alone, and surrounded by a sinister yellowish halo, like a neon at the end of its life cycle. But, for one night at least, happy.

A hugely in demand repress (the original vinyl pressing on North Country changes hands for hundreds of pounds..) now released on Shack’s newly created own label Shack Songs.

The Shack story is one of music’s greatest legends. It incorporates hardship, bereavement and chaotic misadventure, but above all it tells the tale of beautiful music triumphing over trouble and tragedy.

‘Here’s Tom with The Weather’ boasts a majestic and fresh form. These are magical songs, psychedelic folk songs of the finest Head vintage. Sleepy-eyed, wistful and mystical, yet crafted with a cunning and acute dexterity beyond just about anybody you can think of.

The two profoundly Liverpudlian brothers Mick and John Head have made several brilliant albums together , but none as quickly as ‘Here’s Tom…’ which was completed in seven weeks at Brynderwen Studios in North Wales along with drummer Iain Templeton (RIP) , bassist Guy Rigby and producer Jay Reynolds in 2003.

In the 80’s , the two brothers from the notorious Kensington estate in north Liverpool were singer and guitarist with The Pale Fountains , an effervescent pop group which imploded under the weight of two albums in 1986. The Heads returned in ‘88 as Shack and a debut album Zilch. In 1991 , Shack made ‘Waterpistol’ , an inspirational guitar jewel that would have proved just as influential as any British album in that era had the studio not burned down, taking the master tapes with it. Four more years passed , but by the time it was finally released on Marina it had developed ‘lost classic’ status.

The Heads battled on. They toured as their hero Arthur Lee (RIP) of Love’s backing band. In ‘97 , they created a new group called The Strands and recorded the delicate, dreamy masterpiece ‘The Magical World Of The Strands’ . They spent a long time making another classic ‘HMS Fable’ , and then decided that next time they wouldn’t take quite as long recording. Enter ‘Here’s Tom With The Weather’.

Showcasing John’s slow , shy emergence as a songwriter to challenge his brother (on the sparkling, heartbreaking ‘Miles Apart’ and ‘Carousel’ , and the spun-out ‘Kilburn High Road’ ) , toasting Mick’s newest confirmation as the most unrecognised genius of his or any other generation (the ode to his bro, ‘Byrds Turn To Stone’ , the mariachi horns that break open the slow folk fog of ‘Meant To Be’ , the two lullaby bookends ..and on , and on) .

“The journey we’ve had together has been beautifully turbulent”, laughs John. “But there’s times when we glide and we’re gliding forward now”

Mick agrees. “Making this album has been frantic, chaos, carnage, intense : the normal way with us. But it doesn’t sound like that. That’s all that matters. The story is what it is. But so are the songs and so are the records. Because we’re good.”

Nobody could disagree with that.

A hugely in demand repress (the original vinyl pressing on North Country changes hands for hundreds of pounds..) now released on Shack’s newly created own label Shack Songs.

The Shack story is one of music’s greatest legends. It incorporates hardship, bereavement and chaotic misadventure, but above all it tells the tale of beautiful music triumphing over trouble and tragedy.

‘Here’s Tom with The Weather’ boasts a majestic and fresh form. These are magical songs, psychedelic folk songs of the finest Head vintage. Sleepy-eyed, wistful and mystical, yet crafted with a cunning and acute dexterity beyond just about anybody you can think of.

The two profoundly Liverpudlian brothers Mick and John Head have made several brilliant albums together , but none as quickly as ‘Here’s Tom…’ which was completed in seven weeks at Brynderwen Studios in North Wales along with drummer Iain Templeton (RIP) , bassist Guy Rigby and producer Jay Reynolds in 2003.

In the 80’s , the two brothers from the notorious Kensington estate in north Liverpool were singer and guitarist with The Pale Fountains , an effervescent pop group which imploded under the weight of two albums in 1986. The Heads returned in ‘88 as Shack and a debut album Zilch. In 1991 , Shack made ‘Waterpistol’ , an inspirational guitar jewel that would have proved just as influential as any British album in that era had the studio not burned down, taking the master tapes with it. Four more years passed , but by the time it was finally released on Marina it had developed ‘lost classic’ status.

The Heads battled on. They toured as their hero Arthur Lee (RIP) of Love’s backing band. In ‘97 , they created a new group called The Strands and recorded the delicate, dreamy masterpiece ‘The Magical World Of The Strands’ . They spent a long time making another classic ‘HMS Fable’ , and then decided that next time they wouldn’t take quite as long recording. Enter ‘Here’s Tom With The Weather’.

Showcasing John’s slow , shy emergence as a songwriter to challenge his brother (on the sparkling, heartbreaking ‘Miles Apart’ and ‘Carousel’ , and the spun-out ‘Kilburn High Road’ ) , toasting Mick’s newest confirmation as the most unrecognised genius of his or any other generation (the ode to his bro, ‘Byrds Turn To Stone’ , the mariachi horns that break open the slow folk fog of ‘Meant To Be’ , the two lullaby bookends ..and on , and on) .

“The journey we’ve had together has been beautifully turbulent”, laughs John. “But there’s times when we glide and we’re gliding forward now”

Mick agrees. “Making this album has been frantic, chaos, carnage, intense : the normal way with us. But it doesn’t sound like that. That’s all that matters. The story is what it is. But so are the songs and so are the records. Because we’re good.”

Nobody could disagree with that.

The complete, known recordings from Jimmie Dale Gilmore, Joe Ely, and Butch Hancock • Available on CD and 3-sided LP with laser etched 4th side. • Liner notes from acclaimed author and multiple-Grammy winner Colin Escott Reflecting on The Flatlanders in 1990, Jimmy Dale Gilmore said, “The band probably has a higher reputation now than it ever did. Every time Butch Hancock and Joe Ely and I go out on the road, people want to know about The Flatlanders. We always say it was more a legend than a band.” And against all odds, the legend has grown. –Colin Escott You know how it is when you can’t stop talking up a record. Someone will say, “Okay, but who do they sound like?” Or, “Let’s go see them.” Flatlanders fandom hits a wall right there. By the time the first compilation of Flatlanders' work appeared in England in 1980, they'd been apart for seven years, and another ten before their music was available in the US. Sort of… Recorded in 1972 and scheduled for release the following year, All American Music was put on hold and went unissued, save for a few copies that were released on 8-Track. It took a 1980 UK compilation to collect all of the known Flatlanders material, with a now out-of-print German collection unearthing one more. Now, Omnivore Recordings brings all known Flatlanders tracks back to CD and on a three sided LP with the musical saw etched on side four. (Did we mention the musical saw yet?...). All American Music features 18 tracks, newly remastered by multiple Grammy-winner Michael Graves, with packaging featuring liner notes from author and Grammy-winner Colin Escott, helmed by Grammy-winner Cheryl Pawelski. As Escott says in his notes – "More than a half-century later, The Flatlander's' original music still sounds fresh. It was truly a sound like no other. It's a stretch to call an artist 'prophetic' if no one heard them, but in some ways The Flatlanders foretold the grab-all that became Americana Music."

The complete, known recordings from Jimmie Dale Gilmore, Joe Ely, and Butch Hancock • Available on CD and 3-sided LP with laser etched 4th side. • Liner notes from acclaimed author and multiple-Grammy winner Colin Escott Reflecting on The Flatlanders in 1990, Jimmy Dale Gilmore said, “The band probably has a higher reputation now than it ever did. Every time Butch Hancock and Joe Ely and I go out on the road, people want to know about The Flatlanders. We always say it was more a legend than a band.” And against all odds, the legend has grown. –Colin Escott You know how it is when you can’t stop talking up a record. Someone will say, “Okay, but who do they sound like?” Or, “Let’s go see them.” Flatlanders fandom hits a wall right there. By the time the first compilation of Flatlanders' work appeared in England in 1980, they'd been apart for seven years, and another ten before their music was available in the US. Sort of… Recorded in 1972 and scheduled for release the following year, All American Music was put on hold and went unissued, save for a few copies that were released on 8-Track. It took a 1980 UK compilation to collect all of the known Flatlanders material, with a now out-of-print German collection unearthing one more. Now, Omnivore Recordings brings all known Flatlanders tracks back to CD and on a three sided LP with the musical saw etched on side four. (Did we mention the musical saw yet?...). All American Music features 18 tracks, newly remastered by multiple Grammy-winner Michael Graves, with packaging featuring liner notes from author and Grammy-winner Colin Escott, helmed by Grammy-winner Cheryl Pawelski. As Escott says in his notes – "More than a half-century later, The Flatlander's' original music still sounds fresh. It was truly a sound like no other. It's a stretch to call an artist 'prophetic' if no one heard them, but in some ways The Flatlanders foretold the grab-all that became Americana Music."