‘Belgium is too small for pianist Alex Koo’ – De Tijd
‘Stunningly original’ – Downbeat Jazz Magazine
‘Fabulous technique, sounding downright genius at times.’ – London Jazz News
‘When listening, Keith Jarrett’s name came to mind several times. Not because Koo’s playing is similar to that of the American master, but because it is of the same exceptionally high level.’ – Trouw
‘Koo’s compositions and playing are absolutely world class.’ – Written in Music
The son of a Belgian missionary sent to Japan in the seventies and a Japanese peace activist, pianist and composer Alex Koo refuses to be boxed into any traditional category. As the renowned German Jazzthetik magazine put it, "Alex Koo defies categorization."
With ten uniquely personal tracks, Blame It on My Chromosomes is more than a musical statement; it is a form of self-therapy. "The only way not to spiral into depression as a jazz musician nowadays is to vent and lose yourself in the music," Koo shares. "Music needs a purpose beyond self-promotion. For me, it's about accepting who I am and letting go of anything else."
Featuring celebrated trumpeter Ambrose Akinmusire on two tracks, Blame It on My Chromosomes highlights Koo's fearless versatility. One of these tracks, "Jonass," is dedicated to Koo's childhood friend who tragically passed away, adding a deeply personal layer to the album. "When we were kids, we would skate and do stupid things with shopping carts, inspired by Jackass," Koo recalls. "That's why we called Jonas 'Jonass'-he had the biggest smile you could imagine, his laugh was contagious, yet he also was the most reckless one among us."
Koo, praised as "stunningly original" (Downbeat Jazz Magazine), is known for creating music that transcends genre boundaries, blending jazz, indie, contemporary classical and film music with innovative freedom. A native of rural West-Flanders, Belgium, he began his musical journey as a classical piano prodigy at the age of five. In his teens, he developed a passion for jazz and improvisation, earning praise from jazz legends such as Kurt Elling, Kenny Werner, and Brad Mehldau. Koo has even been described as "of the same rare high level as Keith Jarrett" (Trouw). His 2019 album, Appleblueseagreen, featuring Mark Turner and Ralph Alessi, was included in Downbeat's Best Albums of the Year.
Alongside Koo, Blame It on My Chromosomes features his longstanding trio, whose fearless interplay brings the album's narrative to life. The trio, with Koo on piano, Dré Pallemaerts on drums, and Lennart Heyndels on bass, represents the very best of the Belgian jazz scene. Their intuitive chemistry and artistry are the driving force behind the album's emotive power, with special guest Ambrose Akinmusire adding a transcendent layer on two standout tracks.
*MILKY CLEAR VINYL - 300 COPIES ONLY FOR WORLD!!* Technology + Teamwork’s fizzling synths, interweaving textures and punchy rhythms are beguiling on their long-awaited debut album We Used To Be Friends. However, at the heart of it all it’s the connection between the group’s two members, Anthony Silvester and Sarah Jones, the friendship the much-travelled duo have managed to maintain for nearly 15 years and a showcase of the slow-burning construction of the electronic world that they’ve surrounded themselves with. We Used To Be Friends is ultimately the tale of two storied artists in their own right, holding onto each other through personal and career twists and turns, relocations and broader movements through respective phases of their lives. Silvester and Jones first met and then collaborated as part of biting post-punk five-piece XX Teens in 2008, eventually breaking off to forge their own path together even as the latter’s demand as a drummer grew. Performing with everyone from Hot Chip, Harry Styles and Bloc Party among many others, Jones has been a constant percussive presence across the sphere of alternative UK pop music – she’s also found time for her own solo project Pillow Person and played on records by the likes of Puscifer and Kurt Vile. Silvester meanwhile has performed in art galleries across Europe including: Fridericianum in Kassel, Kölnischer Kunstverein in Cologne, and Vleeshal in Middelburg, as well as providing sound design and composing work for several art films. Technology + Teamwork is the constant throughout all of that though. “Technology + Teamwork's name perfectly describes how we work” Silvester explains. “Sometimes the teamwork is between each other and sometimes it’s between us and the technology.” Although going by the name Technology + Teamwork as far back as 2014, two events conspired that pulled the project into focus for the pair of them: firstly, Silvester spent a year constructing a soundproof studio shed on the border of London and Essex where he lives. Secondly, inevitably, the pandemic brought the globe-trotting Jones back home to just seven miles away from her long-time collaborator and friend. “We probably hung out more than we had for a few years” says Silvester. “Also, after all her Pillow Person releases Sarah had gotten really good with recording vocals and knowing what did and didn’t work and had a really good home studio set up. We still worked separately though, exchanging ideas via email and WhatsApp.” As with many artists through 2020 and early 2021, working separately was a new necessity that they were forced to adapt to. However, it became clear that there were creative benefits to it. “It really changed our sound and our sounds became a lot more focused as a result” Jones says. “I wanted to use the same ideas of improvisation that I might use while playing the drums for myself and apply that to melodies and lyrics.” The album bristles with hyperpop modernity. You can hear it in the manipulated vocals most prominently on Big Blue’s disco strut and on Moving Too’s heady mix of pitched up voice and burrowing sub bass. However, the pair also looked to San Francisco and the West Coast synthesis movement of the 60s, Silvester inspired by the likes of Suzanne Ciani and Don Buchla. The plaintive lo-fi and melancholy of Amsterdam incorporates Mutable Instrument’s Marbles by Émilie Gillet which – inspired by Buchla’s own synthesis work – outputs random voltages to give the track an air of unpredictability. It’s something that occurs throughout the album, the duo revelling in the happy accidents that disrupt the flow of their hook-laden pop. “The ‘Buchlian’ ideas of music having randomness and uncertainty, completely freed us up” Silvester explains. “It felt a bit like having more members in the band, machines that didn't do what you expected or intended.” Perhaps more subtly, is the influence of 17th and 18th century Baroque music, with Silvester drawing a line between it and the 90’s R’n’B he and Jones both love – exemplified perhaps best on K+B’s percussive claps and sultry grooves. The portentous juddering synthpop of the title track, meanwhile, alludes specifically to Handel’s Sarabande. It’s typical of an album that only needs a scratch of its seemingly glossy surface to unearth a myriad of contorted touchstones and reference points that’ve fermented beneath it. Thematically there’s an anxious sense to the record, with tracks often balancing above a quiet sense of unerring tension even at their most bombastic. Moving Too is the result of an existential doubt that hit Silvester while out cycling, with the outro refrain "it's not enough to die you also have to be forgotten" a take on something Samuel Beckett once said. These worries are echoed on the album’s closing track What A Year, which borrows a lot of lines from the late drag performer and fashion designer Dorian Corey including the grimly defiant "you're gonna leave your mark somewhere in this world just by getting through it”. Those clouds offer a counter point to We Used To Be Friends, but then isn’t that what great pop albums do? Technology + Teamwork undoubtedly love the craft of the hook and the song, but they always position themselves left of centre, prepared to scuff things up, pull something out of shape or manipulate something to leave it sounding warped. Much like their friendship, nothing here is particularly linear – and it’s all the better for it. Bio: Anthony Silvester & Sarah Jones first collaborated as part of biting post-punk five piece XX Teens in 2008, eventually breaking off to forge their own path together even as the latter's demand as a drummer grew. Performing with everyone from Hot Chip, Bat for Lashes, Harry Styles and Bloc Party (among many others), Jones has been a constant percussive presence across the sphere of alternative UK pop music - she's also found time for her own solo project Pillow Person and played on records by the likes of Puscifer and Kurt Vile. Silvester meanwhile has performed in art galleries across Europe including Fridericianum in Kassel, Kölnischer Kunstverein in Cologne, and Wleeshal in Middelburg, as well as providing sound design and composing work for several art films. Technology & Teamwork is the constant throughout all of that though. "We Used To Be Friends" proves that Technology & Teamwork undoubtedly love the craft of the hook and the song, but they always position themselves left of centre, prepared to scuff things up, pull something out of shape or manipulate something to leave it sounding warped. Much like their friendship, nothing hear is particularly linear - and it's all the better for it.
Some recordings herald the future in ways that are impossible to see in real time. Teodros Makonnen With His Organ (ቴዎድሮስ መኮንን ከኦርጋኑ ጋር), by the artist Teodros Makonnen, also known as Teddy Mak, is one of those. Today, electronic sounds, synthesizers, and digital production are taken for granted in Ethiopian music, but in the early 1980s, they were novelties that polarized opinion. Even to this day, the story of Teodros Makonnen’s legacy has never been properly told. He played a decisive role in defining the sound of the digital era of Ethiopian music that emerged in the 1980s and beyond, both as a keyboard player and as a producer, songwriter, performer, and sound designer.
Ethiopian music was at a crossroads in the early 1980s. Much like music in the rest of the world, technology and automation heralded either a quantum leap in musical development or the annihilation of musicianship, depending on who you’d ask. The changes were incremental nonetheless, but with the benefit of hindsight one can clearly see that the changes meant different things in different contexts. Drum machines and electric organs came to replace many hotel bands because, all of a sudden, one musician could control drums, melody, and accompaniment. Teodros was one of the first musicians in Ethiopia to explore the possibilities this opened up.
Teodros’ father, Captain Makonnen Beri, was a chief pilot at Ethiopian Airlines and a music enthusiast at that. This would prove important to his development, as Makonnen brought back a piano from Germany, which would lead to the first steps in Teodros’ long musical career. Captain Makonnen’s work as Head of Flight Operations and as a pilot exposed him to the wider world that was far from commonplace for most Ethiopians. In a house where music captivated the whole family, the piano gave Teodros’ talent an outlet. Not only was a piano at home rare in Ethiopian households, his father also brought an Indian teacher to their home to teach Teodros and his brother, Captain Samuel Makonnen, music theory (solfeggio or ear training) and piano. Teodros and his youngest brother, the late great Dereje, a member of both the legendary Ibex Band and the Ethiopian reggae group Dallol, took up music from that point onward, with Teodros beginning to develop his proficiency at the age of eight. His father encouraged him to practice tirelessly at home, and Teodros later received musical schooling at the German School in Addis Ababa. His obvious talent led to studies and formal education at the Yared School of Music, followed by continued studies in American jazz at Northern Virginia Community College in Virginia. Teodros cut his teeth professionally in his mid-teens, not only as a keyboardist, but also as an arranger for the Wabi Shebelle and Dahlak bands in the 1970s. He mastered electronic sequencing early, rising to prominence through the midnight recording sessions held during the military curfew. The pressures imposed by the curfew required precise and disciplined recordings, and Teodros delivered just that. This, in turn, led to collaborations with iconic artists such as Mulatu Astatke, Aster Aweke, Menelik Wossenachew, Tilahun Gessesse, Mahmoud Ahmed, and Alemayehu Eshete. In those days, he sat in as a keyboardist with the Dahlak Band when Dawit Yifru took a hiatus to study in Russia, and also with the Ethiostar Band. He secured a residency at the Wabi Shebelle Hotel with the Shebele Band, together with Zelalem Tadese (drums), later succeeded by Elias Bekele, Mulugeta Hailu (bass), Teferi ‘Bibisha’ Mengesha (guitar), Kumelachew G/Selassie (trumpet), and Teshome Deneke (saxophone). A friendly competition developed between the bands associated with the Ras Hotel (the Ibex Band), Ghion Hotel (the Dahlak Band), and Wabi Shebelle Hotel (the Shebele Band). The music scene at Wabi Shebelle saw teenagers commanding the spotlight in an industry otherwise dominated by musicians of an older generation. At the Wabi Shebelle Hotel, Teodros met a diplomat from Saudi Arabia and later visited him at his home in Addis Ababa, a meeting that had unexpected musical consequences. The man owned a Yamaha double-deck keyboard. That evening, they recorded Teodros Makonnen With His Organ (ቴዎድሮስ መኮንን ከኦርጋኑ ጋር) in one take. This recording, a cornerstone in the early digital sound of Ethiopian music, came about almost by chance, simply because Teodros got the opportunity. Traditional Ethiopian songs were cast in a wholly electronic style. Once freed from backing duties, Teodros’ keyboards could explore dreamlike soundscapes that took Ethiopian music in new directions. Even though the cassette contained well-known Ethiopian songs, they were given highly original arrangements, performed on an electric organ with drum machine backing and rhythm patterns that left the listener with suggestive, lingering sounds. “Libesh Kabashen” (also known as “Anchi Bale Game”) and “Odu Gol Golesa” wrap you in the very stuff that dreams are made of. Originally released on cassette only, this recording exudes a mystique that surpasses even some of the most obscure Ethiopian recordings of the day. It remained more or less unknown outside of Ethiopia until now. Some of the tracks, like “Addis Fikir,” are permeated with an almost naive buoyancy, free-floating sounds that lost contact with the ground the moment they were conceived. Others, like “Meche New Hageren Yemayew” and “Lelitu Alnega Alegn,” carry a moodier, quirkier timbre, with pulsating rhythms in the background. Yet even the darker pieces contain an unmistakable wave, something essentially Ethiopian. If most recordings of Teodros’s contemporaries at the time were teeming with atmosphere, his songs seem instead at home in the stratosphere, almost ethereal. Some of the music here could be filed under “lullabies,” were it not for the recurring, almost brooding feeling that engulfs the listener on the aforementioned tracks. You could easily be forgiven for drifting into a blissful haze as the music washes over you.
Up to the advent of electronic music production, Ethiopia was totally dominated by big bands on the one hand, and small groups on the other. The former were tied to large institutions such as the military, the latter emerged from the entertainment industry, in hotel bars and nightclubs. These groups were commercially driven, and bands ultimately had to foster a mercenary approach to employment, albeit not to the passion for music. In the light of this, Teodros’ musical legacy can be seen in two ways. On the one hand, he is a key player in Ethiopian music from the 1970s onwards, leaving an indelible mark through hundreds of compositions and arrangements, including soundtracks for numerous documentary films and advertisements for different companies. On the other hand, the way he and others employed electronics brought Ethiopian music onto a fork in the road.
The replacement of traditional instruments with electronic equipment was seen as impending doom by some. Others, like Teodros, saw new avenues for performance, production, and creativity. Just as later producers like Abegasu Shiota of Admas, Teodros was a trailblazer who opened paths that it took Ethiopian music as a whole more than a decade to rush into. The hotel scene had already been pushed toward electronic music by financial necessity and cost-cutting. Today’s revived global interest in Ethiopian music from the seventies and eighties, alongside a broader resurgence, has changed the reasons for using digital means of music production. They have become tools for musical dreaming. This is where the dreaming began.
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Newly signed to EMI Records, seven-piece boyband December 10 are ushering in a new era in pop music. Formed on camera during Netflix’s Simon Cowell: The Next Act (released globally on 10 December 2025), the hugely fun, utterly joyful, incredibly charismatic, often rambunctious and completely endearing group consist of Cruz (20), Danny (17), Hendrik (19), John (17), Josh (17), Nicolas (17) and Seán (19).
Within weeks of the series airing, the pace was relentless. December 10 sold out their Introducing! run of live dates across the UK and Ireland, adding extra shows twice in response to demand before all 13 dates sold out within minutes; built a huge online following, with millions of followers across social media; and released their debut single “Run My Way” on 30 January 2026.
Since then, the band have released the singles “Infinity (123)” and “Angel”, landed in the Official UK Top 10 best-selling vinyl singles of 2026 so far, and made their festival debut at Ultra Teens Fest Japan, performing to a crowd of more than 12,000 fans.
Summer 2026 will see December 10 embark on their headline UK and European tour, December 10: The Next Step, (which kicks off in Amsterdam on 26 June and wraps up in Dublin on 21 July,) release their debut EP, On Your Side, on 10 July, and make appearances at Summer Sonic Festival in Japan and Reading & Leeds Festival in the UK.
They’re not just brilliant singers, but accomplished musicians too, playing 14 instruments between them: Nicolas plays guitar and harmonica; Danny plays guitar; Josh plays guitar, cajón and drums; Hendrik plays guitar, bass and piano; Seán plays guitar, piano and harmonica; while John was due to take Grade 8 clarinet and piano this year - until life got a bit busy.
December 10 are very much a boyband for our times: a truly inclusive group representing Chorley, Rochester, Dublin, London, Lisbon and Walsall, with Irish, Brazilian, Indian, Nigerian and Jamaican heritage between them, and musical influences that are just as expansive.Pre-order our debut EP ‘On Your Side’ now!
The records is released in two options. Both hvae 180g vinyl records. The first version has two black vinyls and the second limited edition (numbered 100 pieces) has one turquoise vinyl and the other red.
Over the last three decades, Auckland, New Zealand, has given birth to several generations of musicians, DJs, and producers who operated within the interzone between jazz, blues, soul, funk, Latin music, hip-hop, house, boogie, and broken beat. Across two slow-cooked albums that sit at the intersection of machine funk and vivid live instrumentation, Odyssey (2016) and their forthcoming sophomore release Long Road (2024), After 'Ours - the group project of pianist and composer Michal Martyniuk and drummer, guitarist and producer Nick Williams - have comfortably located themselves within this antipodean tradition.
Born and raised in Auckland, Nick Williams grew up surrounded by music from a young age. At home, his mother, Mary Anne, a record collector and DJ with deep, diverse vinyl crates, kept his ear sharp. By the time he was eight years old, he was regularly joining his musician father on stages across Australia in his blues rock band Slippery Sam. In his early twenties, Nick began leading the eleven-piece Auckland Latin-dub-funk fusion big band Tangent, who performed regularly until the late 2000s.
Michal Martyniuk, on the other hand, grew up on the opposite side of the world in Szczecin, Poland. After playing classical music for twelve years and attending jazz school, he relocated to New Zealand with his family in his teens. While studying at Auckland University Jazz school, Michal came into the orbit of the legendary New Zealand saxophonist, composer, producer, and band leader Nathan Haines, who brought him into the same world as future collaborators like Tama Waipara, Batacada Sound Machine, Sola Rosa and Nick.
Inspired by the rich stories of jazz, neo-soul, electronica, and dance music from both sides of the Atlantic Ocean and the open-eared Auckland scene they emerged from, After 'Ours formed in 2011. Born out of a friendship cultivated through playing together at bars and nightclubs around town and home studio sessions. "Nick had family and work, so I had to wait all day," Michal says. "We'd come to the studio at 10 PM and go till 3 AM. That's how we came up with the name.
Session by session, After 'Ours revealed itself to be a creatively fertile meeting of minds. "We both have our angles, but it works well in the end," Nick reflects. "It takes the music to a place we can't get to by ourselves."
Between 2011 and 2016, they wrote and recorded Odyssey with a cast of musical collaborators that included KP, Sharlene Hector & Kevin Mark Trail (UK), Matt Nanai, Nathan Haines, Jakub Skowronski, Nick's partner Ange Williams (nee Saunders) and British producer Mike Patto from the lauded UK future jazz group Reel People. Influenced by the smooth yacht rock of Steely Dan and Donald Fagan, the warm midtempo bounce of A Tribe Called Quest and J Dilla, and the complex jazz/RnB bop of Robert Glasper, Odyssey was a labour of love that emphasised community, warm-hearted hospitality, and care.
Seven years on, they're finally ready to return with Long Road, an album that contains some of their best work yet. As well as reconnecting with past collaborators Kevin Mark Trail and Ange Williams, Long Road sees After 'Ours calling on assistance from Louis Baker, Jakarta-based saxophone player Kuba Skowroński, bassist Dan Antunovich, Los Angeles-based drummer Chris Bailey and the journeyman British soul artist Omar Lyefook.
Across ten songs that plot a stargazed course through their antipodean spin on UK broken beat, jazz, modern soul, and blues rock, Nick and Michal build on everything they learned while writing and recording Odyssey. In the process, they take their joyful musical visions to sublime new heights.
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The records is released in two options. Both hvae 180g vinyl records. The first version has two black vinyls and the second limited edition (numbered 100 pieces) has one turquoise vinyl and the other red.
Over the last three decades, Auckland, New Zealand, has given birth to several generations of musicians, DJs, and producers who operated within the interzone between jazz, blues, soul, funk, Latin music, hip-hop, house, boogie, and broken beat. Across two slow-cooked albums that sit at the intersection of machine funk and vivid live instrumentation, Odyssey (2016) and their forthcoming sophomore release Long Road (2024), After 'Ours - the group project of pianist and composer Michal Martyniuk and drummer, guitarist and producer Nick Williams - have comfortably located themselves within this antipodean tradition.
Born and raised in Auckland, Nick Williams grew up surrounded by music from a young age. At home, his mother, Mary Anne, a record collector and DJ with deep, diverse vinyl crates, kept his ear sharp. By the time he was eight years old, he was regularly joining his musician father on stages across Australia in his blues rock band Slippery Sam. In his early twenties, Nick began leading the eleven-piece Auckland Latin-dub-funk fusion big band Tangent, who performed regularly until the late 2000s.
Michal Martyniuk, on the other hand, grew up on the opposite side of the world in Szczecin, Poland. After playing classical music for twelve years and attending jazz school, he relocated to New Zealand with his family in his teens. While studying at Auckland University Jazz school, Michal came into the orbit of the legendary New Zealand saxophonist, composer, producer, and band leader Nathan Haines, who brought him into the same world as future collaborators like Tama Waipara, Batacada Sound Machine, Sola Rosa and Nick.
Inspired by the rich stories of jazz, neo-soul, electronica, and dance music from both sides of the Atlantic Ocean and the open-eared Auckland scene they emerged from, After 'Ours formed in 2011. Born out of a friendship cultivated through playing together at bars and nightclubs around town and home studio sessions. "Nick had family and work, so I had to wait all day," Michal says. "We'd come to the studio at 10 PM and go till 3 AM. That's how we came up with the name.
Session by session, After 'Ours revealed itself to be a creatively fertile meeting of minds. "We both have our angles, but it works well in the end," Nick reflects. "It takes the music to a place we can't get to by ourselves."
Between 2011 and 2016, they wrote and recorded Odyssey with a cast of musical collaborators that included KP, Sharlene Hector & Kevin Mark Trail (UK), Matt Nanai, Nathan Haines, Jakub Skowronski, Nick's partner Ange Williams (nee Saunders) and British producer Mike Patto from the lauded UK future jazz group Reel People. Influenced by the smooth yacht rock of Steely Dan and Donald Fagan, the warm midtempo bounce of A Tribe Called Quest and J Dilla, and the complex jazz/RnB bop of Robert Glasper, Odyssey was a labour of love that emphasised community, warm-hearted hospitality, and care.
Seven years on, they're finally ready to return with Long Road, an album that contains some of their best work yet. As well as reconnecting with past collaborators Kevin Mark Trail and Ange Williams, Long Road sees After 'Ours calling on assistance from Louis Baker, Jakarta-based saxophone player Kuba Skowroński, bassist Dan Antunovich, Los Angeles-based drummer Chris Bailey and the journeyman British soul artist Omar Lyefook.
Across ten songs that plot a stargazed course through their antipodean spin on UK broken beat, jazz, modern soul, and blues rock, Nick and Michal build on everything they learned while writing and recording Odyssey. In the process, they take their joyful musical visions to sublime new heights.
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With her captivating voice and richly detailed songwriting, Sarah Jarosz has emerged as one of the most compelling musicians of her generation. A four-time Grammy Award-winner and ten-time nominee at the age of 30, the Texas native started singing as a young girl and became an accomplished multi-instrumentalist by her early teens. After releasing her full-length debut Song Up in Her Headat 18-years-old, she went on to deliver such critically lauded albums as Follow Me Down, Build Me Up From Bones, and Undercurrent, in addition to joining forces with Sara Watkins and Aoife O’Donovan to form the acclaimed folk trio I’m With Her. Her fifth studio album, World On The Ground, produced by John Leventhal, went on to win the Grammy award for Best Americana Album. In 2021 Jarosz released the Grammy-nominated Blue Heron Suite, a much-anticipated song cycle which she composed after being the recipient of the FreshGrass Composition Commission.
The seventh album from Sarah Jarosz finds the highly decorated songwriter at the apex of change. A Texas native, she’s spent most of her adult life living in New York City, but shortly before writing the album Jarosz left her adopted home to join her soon-to-be husband in Nashville, TN. The geographic shake-up led to a sonic one as well for Polaroid Lovers. For the first time in her career she opened herself up to collaborators, leading to writing sessions with Daniel Tashian, Ruston Kelly and Natalie Hemby. The creative reorganization of her writing process evolved to include a much richer and more electric sound in the studio and being in Nashville meant access to a world of hot shot players. She tapped guitarist Rob McNelley (Miranda Lambert, Carrie Underwood), Tom Bukovac (Tom Petty, Vince Gill) on guitar and organ, her husband- bassist Jeff Picker (Nickel Creek), and drummer Fred Eltringham (Sheryl Crow, Lucinda Williams) for the album recording. Tashian took the helm as producer and the whole album was laid down at the legendary Sound Emporium.
As it goes with all change, Jarosz’s major life events had her feeling contemplative. While sitting on the precipice of adulthood, Polaroid Lovers finds her reflecting on past loves, childhood dreams, the places she lived in and all the versions of herself that she’s been. Although the listener experiences the sonic shift forward, the album’s subject matter is a photo album of the past. Jarosz has never sounded more assured. Polaroid Lovers is filled with the kind of confidence that comes from hard won life experiences and the conviction of someone who truly knows herself.
Following on from recent works for 12k, The Trilogy Tapes, and Important, Far More Decentralized is a new collection of subtle, enchanting pieces from Tokyo-based sound and visual artist Akhira Sano. Working with electronic, instrumental, and concrete sounds, he crafts immersive assemblages of long overlapping tones and blurred resonance, cut through with textural crunch and hiss. The resonant bell-like tones of opener ‘Kouai’ invite the listener in, calling up the warm sound palette of ambient classics like Hiroshi Yoshimura’s Music for Nine Postcards, but leaving any sense of compositional anchor behind for a free-floating harmonic drift. Woven through this seductive tonal cloud is a wavering stream of white noise and tactile pops, its textural grit threatening to derail the calmly reflective pool of pitched sounds, but never quite doing so. Each of these seven pieces occupies a similarly ruminative harmonic space while possessing its own identity. On ‘Neow’, lush tonal swells form around fragmented samples, touching on the techniques of early 2000s glitch artists like Ekkehard Ehlers. ‘Orbv’ is particularly subtle in its combination of rippling back-masked tonal wash, almost subliminal suggestions of field recordings, and distant traces of raw electronic interference, as if a Toshimaru Nakamura recording is playing through an open window across the road. ‘Margin’ weaves together a skein of wistful slow-motion melodies while untraceable, resonant clinks and ambiguous static washes rise gradually to the surface. In comparison to his recent Phase Contrast for Recollection on 12k, recognisable instrumental sounds are a rarity here, yet a hand-played feeling is present throughout. On ‘Teens’, filtered electric guitar tones reminiscent of the melancholic miniatures of Andrew Chalk float over aqueous burbles, bringing the album to a magisterial close. In the crowded field of contemporary electronic music tending toward ambience, Sano is a distinctive voice. Like his elegant abstract paintings, here seemingly static surfaces of unhurried calm reveal rich interior worlds of subtle activity and gentle chaos. Where much contemporary ambient music aims for an almost stifling cleanliness of tone, Sano breathes life into Far More Decentralized through the acceptance of imperfection, accident, and rough edges. As the artist himself says, ‘In a world where everything can be made perfectly, I think it’s a beautiful and primal act to touch the fragile and imperfect’
O’o share many of the musical characteristics of their ornithological namesake. The Kaua’i O’O produced the most exquisite birdsong before its extinction in Hawaii in the late 1980s. The beauty and character of its voice was delicate and mysterious, tuneful and surprising. You can experience it with just a cursory websearch, a haunting cri de coeur from the last century. If the poor O’O is consigned to history, then life is just beginning for this French duo, based in Spain, who’ve won plaudits and awards already in their short musical lifespan.
O’o are about to release their sublime debut album Touche. This is not an endling, it’s just the beginning: “I found the name on a website of weird English language words, and I loved the way the letters were arranged like a pair of glasses,” says O’o singer Victoria Suter. “Afterwards, I went onto YouTube and started listening to the last bird of its species, calling for a mate that would never come. I thought: ‘Oh my God, that’s so sad’. Then we talked about the name and we thought it could be a nice thing to honour it and keep it alive in some way.”
Suter met her musical partner Mathieu Daubigné at college in Agen, South West France, when the pair were studying music theory in their teens. Victoria moved to Barcelona in 2010; Mathieu followed six years later. Their debut EP, Spells, appeared in 2018 a beautifully crafted patchwork of vocals and samples that is redolent of the uncanny vocalese of Laurie Anderson. The bird makes an appearance at the beginning of the EP: “Sweet tooth beak. Soft melody peak / Oh O’o, go round and round in circles / Looking for a honeydrop, til you vanish, til you drop”.
That sense of profound longing for something lost is carried over to Touche, as well as the same heightened sensory awareness of the world around them. What has developed in spades is the creative process. O’o have blossomed organically, augmenting their pop sensibilities. Avant-garde techniques have been brought to heel as the pair create off-kilter pop music that warms the heart and nourishes the brain. The catalyst that enabled this bold pop transformation came with the song ‘Touche’ itself, a saucy chanson at the heart of the album. Suter’s wry narrative about a botanical femme fatale is inserted into a lithe and skittish song with reggaeton beats and an inviting, balmy atmosphere.
“The song is about a flower which attracts male insects, producing the very same smell as the female of the species,” explains Victoria. “The poor male is fooled by the sex-appeal of this botanical trap, and gets so excited that he exhausts himself and wastes all his other chances of ulterior mating and having any offspring. The flower entices the insect in in mermaid-like fashion, to come nearer and touch her. It’s the hot track!”
‘Touche’ reaches into hitherto unexplored areas of pop, while the rest of the album is accessible in the way that James Blake, Radiohead or Kate Bush are accessible, and it always challenges, in a way that pop isn’t supposed to. Suter writes playful, poignant, observational songs that tell stories as well as tell us something about ourselves. Songs like ‘Dorica Castra’ are built upon the voice as an instrument, centrifugal and layered from its core.
Complimentary to this method is Daubigné, who brings startling innovation with found sounds, samples and clever vocal manipulations—creating unique, otherworldly sonic flourishes. A guitar whirs like a musical spinning top on ‘Spin’, created in Ableton; an Ondes Martenot appears to make a guest appearance on the title track, though it’s the ingenuity of the Prophet 8 synthesiser. “I’ll often say to Mathieu, ‘what’s that?’” says Suter, He’ll reply, ‘that’s your voice’.”
O’o found their own voice when they won a competition held by the legendary festival organisers Primavera Sound. Victoria entered the band into a competition she saw on Instagram, sending off rough demos on the final day of entry, thinking little more about it other than the fact Mathieu might be annoyed. Soon they would have to build a live set from scratch and figure out how to present their music for the first time. At stake was seventy hours of recording time at Aclam studios, used by Rosalía and Kendrick Lamar, and for the winner a coveted spot at the festival. A pool of 350 acts were whittled down, and then O’o triumphed at a Battle of the Band style face off.
The O’O might be extinct, but O’o the band have learned how to fly. Just watch them go.
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Mow Records proudly presents L’enfants De Kita, the third album from a series of five, all produced by label owner Mowgan. Each album features vocalists and performers with African heritage, channeling Mowgan’s passion for the continent’s diverse sounds into vibrant, highly emotive productions. On L’enfants De Kita he teams up with Fanta Sayon Sissoko, a female performer from West African nation Mali. Based in Toulouse, where the album was recorded, Fanta’s musical roots go deep - her father played guitar and ngoni for Baaba Maal and her grandmother is Kandia Kouyaté, one of Mali’s best-known griot singers.
Mowgan always dreamed of working with a female singer from Mali, enchanted by their vocal style. After moving back to France a few years ago he bumped into Eric Diaouré, an old friend who he worked with in his teens. Eric is also a musician and just so happens to be from Mali. Mowgan revealed his ambitions to Eric and a meeting with Fanta was arranged - within a few days they were in the studio together.
Like the other albums in this series, L’enfants De Kita is a fusion of Mowgan’s love for African music and his penchant for electronic sounds. Fanta’s raw, affecting vocals are complemented by Mowgan’s considered production throughout with additional instrumentation from a range of performers, including a group of schoolchildren on ‘Tubani’. Featured artists include Solo Sanou (whose album ‘Soya’ was the second release on Mow Records) playing percussion, Mamadou ‘Madou’ Dembele, a multi-instrumentalist who plays ngoni, Yohan Hernandez on guitar and bass plus Madani Touré aka Chanana (a famous Malian rapper from the nineties) contributing to lead vocals on the album’s title track, with Tim Xavier handling mastering.
Mowgan’s approach to creating albums is to get a vibe going with the singer, produce a batch of songs and then select the best seven for each LP. It’s a pressure-free attitude that has led to some truly heartfelt productions, which encapsulate the purity of the creative process when it’s liberated from rigid constraints. You can hear this freedom of expression throughout L’enfants De Kita, Fanta in her element as she sings with passion and grace across all seven tracks.
The album begins with the title song ‘L’enfants De Kita’, which pays homage to Fanta’s hometown, Kita, in Mali. It is the centre of griotism, the local style of passing on knowledge from one generation to the next via spoken-word storytelling. Chanana joins Fanta on this one, which is the most ‘western’ sounding cut on the LP, Mowgan’s deft touch taking us to the dance floor, while Chanana adds extra depth with his rapid-fire vocal refrain. The glorious ‘Tubani’ tells the story of Djene Tubani, a girl who thought she was a bird. She disobeys her parents and neglects her friends, but eventually learns the error of her ways. Fanta’s vocals are amplified by the voices of a group of schoolchildren, including her own daughter.
‘Mobaya’ is a reminder that we can possess wisdom and deep knowing, but we can also enjoy ourselves; dance, sing and party. This is a club-focused production with 4x4 beats and a traditional house feel, which provide a wonderful accompaniment to Fanta’s uplifting vocals. Next up is ‘Dakan’, a cut which is all about destiny: Everyone has been put on Earth for a reason and by working together we can all achieve our destiny. Layers of percussion skip over the warm low end, with a lively trumpet appearing in the second half.
‘Dounouya’ explores the notion that we live in a world where everyone faces negative criticism. Fanta encourages us to take responsibility and move forward no matter what others think of us with this inspiring guitar-led cut. ‘Djonya’ highlights the fact that slavery still exists in today’s world - modern slavery, hidden from public view but still very much alive. “Our Africa is going to be okay if we all hold hands, if we are all together, all united,” she says. Finally,‘Badeya’, a great outtro which focuses on unity. We are all one family on this planet and this song speaks of people coming together but also respecting ourselves above everything else. The pace is slow and the instrumentation perfectly balanced to allow Fanta’s vocals to flourish.
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On her deeply moving debut album At Weddings, Sarah Beth Tomberlin writes with the clarity and wisdom of an artist well beyond her years. Immeasurable space circulates within the album's ten songs, which set Tomberlin's searching voice against lush backdrops of piano and guitar. Like Julien Baker and Sufjan Stevens, she has a knack for transforming the personal into parable. Like Grouper, she has a feel for the transcendent within the ordinary.
Born in Jacksonville, Florida, and now based in Louisville, Kentucky, Tomberlin wrote most of At Weddings while living with her family in southern Illinois during her late teens and early twenties. At 16, she finished her homeschooling curriculum and went to college at a private Christian school she describes, only half-jokingly, as a "cult." By 17, she had dropped out of school, returned home, and begun to face a period of difficult transition in her life. The daughter of a Baptist pastor, Tomberlin found herself questioning not only her faith, but her identity, her purpose, and her place in the world.
"I was working, going to school, and experiencing heavy isolation," Tomberlin says of the time when she first began writing the songs on At Weddings. "It felt monotonous, like endless nothingness. It was a means to get through to the next step of life." In songwriting, Tomberlin found relief and lucidity she had trouble articulating otherwise. When she was 19, she wrote "Tornado" on her parents' piano, and began to develop confidence in her music. A year later, she had written enough songs to fill an album.
Throughout At Weddings, Tomberlin's lyrics yearn for stability and belonging, a near-universal desire among young people learning to define themselves on their own terms for the first time. "I am a tornado with big green eyes and a heartbeat," she sings on "Tornado," her voice stretching to the top of her range. Rich, idiosyncratic imagery — a fly killed with a self-help book, brown paper bags slashed violently open, clouds that weep over a lost love — sidle up to profound realizations about learning to be alive in this world. "To be a woman is to be in pain," Tomberlin notes on "I'm Not Scared." On "A Video Game," she muses, "I wish I was a hero with something beautiful to say."
Tomberlin cites the hymns she grew up singing in church as her greatest musical influence, and while At Weddings in many ways documents the unlearning of her childhood faith, it's easy to hear the reverential quality of sacred music in her songs. "A lot of hymns talk about really crazy stuff — being saved from the depths and the mire, judgment. When you actually realize what you're singing, it becomes really overwhelming," Tomberlin says. "I grew up singing in church. I was still helping to lead worship when I started coming to terms with the realization that I didn't know if I believed. I felt nauseous and shaky reading these words I was singing and feeling their intensity. If I did believe this, how could I sing these words without being scared out of my mind That's what's influenced how I write."
At Weddings is laden with reverence for music itself, for the power it has to heal others and help people navigate their lives. It is a record about learning to love oneself and others without reservation, from a place of deep sincerity — a lifelong challenge whose tribulations Tomberlin articulates beautifully. "My number one goal with my music is for honesty and transparency that helps other people find ways to exist," she says. With At Weddings, this remarkable young songwriter offers up comfort and wonder in equal measure.
a1 | Any Other Way
a2 | Untitled 1
a3 | Tornado
a4 | You Are Here
a5 | A Video Game
b1 | I'm Not Scared
b2 | Seventeen
b3 | Self Help
b4 | Untitled 2
b5 | February
