Suche:shē

The seventh and penultimate season of the fantasy drama television series Game of Thrones premiered on HBO in 2017.

The penultimate season focuses on the convergence of the show's main plots in preparation for the final season. Daenerys Targaryen arrives in Westeros with her army and three large dragons and begins to wage war against the Lannisters, who have defeated her allies in the south and west of Westeros. Jon Snow leaves Sansa in charge of Winterfell and visits Daenerys to secure her help to defeat the White Walkers and the Army of the Dead. He mines the dragonglass at Dragonstone and begins a romance with Daenerys. Arya and Bran (now the Three-Eyed Raven) return home to Winterfell; the Starks execute the treacherous Littlefinger. Tyrion persuades Daenerys not to destroy King's Landing, reminding her that she does not want to be simply a queen of ashes. Instead, Jon goes north of the wall to capture a wight to prove to Cersei that the fearsome army of the dead exist and are coming; in doing so, his group is pinned down and nearly killed. Daenerys rescues them with her dragons but the Night King kills one of her dragons and makes it part of his army. The undead dragon later destroys part of the Wall and the dead march through. Bran learns that Jon is really his cousin, Aegon Targaryen, the legitimate heir to the Iron Throne.

Game of Thrones Season 7 received 22 nominations for the Primetime Emmy Awards and won for Outstanding Drama Series and Dinklage won for Outstanding Supporting Actor in a Drama Series. The score by Ramin Djawadi was also nominated for a Grammy Award for Best Score Soundtrack for Visual Media.

Game Of Thrones Season 7 is available as a limited edition of 750 numbered copies on silver coloured vinyl and includes a 4-page booklet.

Obsession is THE DRIVER ERA’s explosive follow-up to 2022’s Summer Mixtape & sees the band’s artistry evolving in a dynamic, distinctive direction that solidifies themselves as a driving force in the alt-pop space. Clever, relatable lyricism backed by moody undertones and infectious grooves showcases the band’s pivot into more confessional songwriting and finding their sonic step.

Across the album’s 11 tracks, Obsession explores themes of love, longing, and loss through a uniquely captivating sonic profile rife with electric riffs, robust synths, and strong drums to create the most impressive release from THE DRIVER ERA to date.

The band, which consists of brothers Ross and Rocky Lynch, released their debut single ‘Preacher Man’ in 2018 and since then have amassed hundreds of millions of streams and a huge following with their signature sound and larger-than-life sold-out shows.

Obsession is THE DRIVER ERA’s explosive follow-up to 2022’s Summer Mixtape & sees the band’s artistry evolving in a dynamic, distinctive direction that solidifies themselves as a driving force in the alt-pop space. Clever, relatable lyricism backed by moody undertones and infectious grooves showcases the band’s pivot into more confessional songwriting and finding their sonic step.

Across the album’s 11 tracks, Obsession explores themes of love, longing, and loss through a uniquely captivating sonic profile rife with electric riffs, robust synths, and strong drums to create the most impressive release from THE DRIVER ERA to date.

The band, which consists of brothers Ross and Rocky Lynch, released their debut single ‘Preacher Man’ in 2018 and since then have amassed hundreds of millions of streams and a huge following with their signature sound and larger-than-life sold-out shows.

First time on LP, a previously unreleased, remastered collection limited to 1000 units / white vinyl. The Legendary Guitar Player Who Inspired Stevie Ray Vaughan, Joe Bonamassa, and Kenny Wayne Shepherd. Johnny Winter had a unique career plan: to make music. The lightning-fast guitarist fulfilled this wish magnificently, decade after decade., becoming one of the most respected singers and guitarists in rock. From the Sixties onwards, Winter was the unofficial torchbearer of the blues, standing up for his idols like Muddy Waters and John Lee Hooker and promoting their careers. A musical prodigy, he grew up in Beaumont, Texas, on a diet of blues and rock'n'roll. As a teenager he hitchhiked to Louisiana almost every weekend to play in small nightclubs. After a short stay in college, he gave up his academic career and devoted himself to making music. This is the first collection of the "early years" to distinguish between the formative blues roots and the advance to the rock idiom. It is the best forerunner of his breakout record "The Progressive Blues Experiment" and the "Johnny Winter" album. Curated By Blues Historian Bill Dahl

2018 original compilation now expanded! All the Dwarves songs from 2000-2024 featuring rock legend Nick Oliveri on lead vocals (and bass of course)! Featuring tracks from 9 different releases showcasing the raw exuberance and mayhem of the Dwarves featuring Oliveri as Rex Everything. Fans of Kyuss, QOTSA, Mondo Generator take heed! Standout tracks include We Only Came To Get High, Head Right (Remix), Love Is Fiction, Sixteen. This expanded reissue contains seven bonus tracks not appearing on the 2018 limited original 12 track album on Spanish Bang! Records. The updated reissue sleeve art is orange coloured.

MJ Lenderman is a songwriter born and raised in Asheville, North Carolina. The anatomy of an MJ record might go something like this: warped pedal steels and skuzzed out guitar; crackin" a cold one with some buds; a voice reminiscent of the high lonesome warble of a choirboy. Songs snake their way from a lo-fi home recording to something glossier made withn longtime friends at Asheville"s Drop of Sun studios, but the recording setting doesn"t seem to matter much - at its core, a Lenderman song rings true. Manning Fireworks is a remarkable development in MJ Lenderman"s story as an incredibly incisive singer-songwriter, whose propensity for humor always points to some uneasy, disorienting darkness. The punchlines are still here, as are the rusted-wire guitar solos that have made Lenderman a favorite for indie rock fans looking for an ernerging guitar hero. There"s a new sincerity, too, as Lenderman Iets listeners clearly see the world through his warped lens.

Die in Kyoto geborene und heute in Berlin lebende Midori Hirano schafft minimalistische, ätherische Musik, in der akustisches Klavier nahtlos mit elektronischen Texturen verschmilzt. In Anlehnung an Ryuichi Sakamotos spätere Werke (Async, 12) erforscht, dekonstruiert und erfindet Hirano den traditionellen Rahmen der klassischen Musik neu und verwandelt jede Klaviernote in eine introspektive und immersive Reise. Unter ihrem Pseudonym Mimicof produziert sie auch elektronischere, Ambient Techno/IDM-orientierte Werke. Es war daher fast unvermeidlich, dass Midori eines Tages mit Ivan Pavlov zusammentreffen würde. Der russische Künstler, der heute in Frankreich lebt, ist eine Schlüsselfigur der experimentellen elektronischen Musik der letzten 30 Jahre. Als ehemaliger Akustikingenieur der russischen Marine ist COH ein Freigeist mit chirurgischer Präzision. In den späten 1990er Jahren trat er mit avantgardistischem, präzisem Post-Techno hervor, bevor er sich mit Glitch beschäftigte und später akustische und Ambient-Sounds in seine Klangskulpturen einbaute. Seine frühere Zusammenarbeit mit Peter Christopherson (COIL), Cosey Fanni Tutti und Abul Mogard (COH Meets Abul Mogard) sowie Veröffentlichungen auf renommierten Labels wie Raster-Noton und Editions Mego unterstreichen sowohl seinen Einfluss auf die elektronische Avantgarde als auch seine bemerkenswerte Fähigkeit zur Kollaboration. Mit Sudden Fruit liefern COH und Midori Hirano ein immersives und chimärisches Werk ab. Vom ersten Track an, ,Wave to Wave", spürt man das empfindliche Gleichgewicht zwischen dem Organischen und dem Digitalen, dem Fließen der Natur und der Poesie, die es verkörpert.

Japanese bamboo flute maestro and goat (JP) cohort Rai Tateishi makes an impressive debut statement with his holistic attempts to transcend the limits of ancient instruments to reveal gently delirious insights.

‘Presence’ is a triumph of improvised, elemental musicality that distills aspects of myriad folk traditions in pursuit of the artist’s own truth. For 40 minutes of singularly weird, locked-in performance, Rai Tateishi diverges his formative training in the shinobue (a bamboo flute) to applications for its elder sibling, the shakuhachi, and its distant relatives in the khene mouth organ of Northeastern Thailand and Laos, and even the Irish flute, with remarkable results returned from each.

Piece to piece, Tateishi adapts a spectra of unusual and extended instrumental experiments to articulate uniquely animist sound arrangements, with judicious use of a ring modulator and delay effects only subtly altering his sound in real-time, gelling the harmonics and smoothing off its contours. Some 15 years of studies and accreted knowledge of histories, timelines, and spirits are deftly tattered in the air and rebound in precisely complex ribbons that become all the more impressive by virtue of its in-the-moment recording.

Presented with no overdubs, the six works were recorded by label head and KAKUHAN/goat lynchpin Koshiro Hino across three days of adventurous improvisation capturing the breadth of Tateishi’s vision in a mix of succinct flights of fancy and one durational wonder where he really cuts loose. An opening piece of rapid percussive fingering and rasping sets the tone for increasingly intricate explorations of the shinobue, and bluesy cadence of a reedy Thai khene - antecedent of the shō - whipped into headier harmonic overtones, whilst his 5th piece for Irish flute best recalls Ka Baird or Michael O’Shea’s lysergic impishness, and a 13 minute closing piece most boldly fucks with folk and jazz traditions, in-depth and with the genre short-circuiting audacity of Rahsaan Roland Kirk.

Landing in the wake of prism-shaking works by Will Guthrie & Mark Fell, goat (jp) and Kakuhan; Tateishi’s ‘Presence’ more than lives up to NAKID’s impressive levels, unflinchingly operating by its wits with a verve and dare-to-differ moxie that gets at it from the first hit to the last, harnessing the kind of skill and ingenuity that’s distinctive but still strikingly minimal and overwhelmingly physical. It's a remarkable achievement.

Repress!

Echospace Detroit is the label launched by Rod Modell (Deepchord) and Soultek's Steven Hitchell, two leading lights of the minimal dub techno scene. And as with anything Deepchord, the entire release has an air of mystery to it. Previously, as a near-mythical vinyl pressing with minimal packaging and restricted pressings, everything about Vantage Isle was geared toward the underground, or 'those who know.' However, there's nothing but love of craft driving these grooves, and now a lot more people will finally be able to hear this absolutely brilliant collection of spacial dub wonder on CD. Vantage Isle Sessions consists of a whopping 13 takes of the title track, reworked by Modell and Hitchell in various guises (cv313, Deepchord, Echospace, Spacecho), as well as a guest spot (and first ever remix) from Gerard Hanson (Convextion). Across their 13 versions, Modell and Hitchell manage to take the Deepchord template (analog synths, deep bass, gently throbbing beats, bursts of static and noise, and deep, deep chords) into a surprising variety of directions, akin to looking at the same giant glacier from a helicopter from every angle possible: some are beatless and undulating, some are pulsing and dynamic, some are looking up from under the ice and some are towering overhead. The aforementioned Convextion version is revelatory. It's built on cascading and echoing pieces of the original that are layered like shifting sands, for a distinctly dark and shimmering journey to the bottom of the frozen ocean and back. It's remarkable enough to get all these takes on one basic template to sound somewhat different, given that the source material is really just a skeletal array of sound sheets. Vantage Isle Sessions is for anyone looking for the logical successors to the Basic Channel throne, or just looking for something mellow for those steamy late summer nights. A stone-cold classic of the genre. Don't miss it." -Todd Hutlock, Stylus Magazine/Beatz by the Pound

"Steeped in mystery, Detroit musicians Rod Modell and Mike Schommer (aka Deepchord) are legendary for their hard to find twelve-inch dub techno releases. Their sound is heavily influenced by Berlin dub techno producers like Maurizio, Basic Channel, Chain Reaction, Rhythm & Sound, Blue Train and Pole. While the German sound often has a futuristic metallic edge, Deepchord are known more for the rust and grease, which is part and parcel of those metal parts. Static, analog sounds, deep bass thumps and, of course, deep chords blend in a timeless minimal manner. However, the real gems on this disc are the drifty ambient cuts devoid of beats. This is an excellent album that is on par with the classics from a decade ago!" -Exclaim


"In terms of ambient dub, if Basic Channel is the Father (the source, remote and inaccessible and very powerful) and Pole is the Son (dazzling but ultimately stranded halfway between man and the divine), than Rod Modell’s Deepchord and his Echospace label he run with Steve Hitchell is definitely the Holy Spirit." -Popmatters


"Deepchord’s dub-techno stealthily peels away melody, leaving a bare chassis of beats to ghost-ride down Woodward Avenue. Vantage Isle Sessions, which collects remixes of a 2002 Detroit Electronic Music Festival performance, finds the duo swerving through empty, neon-smeared streets, and recalls Berlin’s Chain Reaction label, minus the anemic minimalism." -XLR8R

"The album scales a magnificent peak in “Spacecho Dub II - Extended Mix” when smeary chords ricochet over a massively deep, bass-heavy pulse, and Hanson's light-speed missile of vaporous propulsion (“Convextion Remix”) is beautiful too.
Long may they run." -Textura

‘Vantage Isle’ is a tremendous achievement that will most likely be held up as a high water mark of the genre for years to come." -Resident Advisor

"My favorite mix is by Convextion (his first remix for another artist). Reedy, distant synth tones sound like a science fiction soundtrack overheard rooms away. An undercurrent of echoes, many difficult to describe, drift in a sonic syrup." -Gridface

"Modell’s music always seems to be in this suspended animation, adrift and afloat in a majestic emptiness." -Dusted Mag

CREDITS:
Written & Produced by Deepchord. Redesigned and Reshaped by Convextion (Gerard Hanson) cv313 (Stephen Hitchell) echospace / spacecho (Rod Modell + Stephen Hitchell)
Additional Mastering, Mixing and Engineering by Ron Murphy @ NSC Mastering, Detroit, USA. Side E/F Remastering and Lacquer cutting by Dietrich @ Complete, NYC, USA. (2018)

2LP in printed inner sleeves + 12 page booklet with detailed info, secrets and unpublished pictures written by Walter Verdin himself. This collection dives deep into Verdin's prolific and experimental music from 1980 to the beginning of this millennium, capturing an era of a DIY punk spirit, improvisation, creative freedom and swimming against the tide.



We are thrilled to announce the upcoming release of 'Pingpong', a 2LP compilation showcasing previously unreleased works by Walter Verdin, the founding member behind Pas De Deux, the Belgian band which delivered 80's cult classics 'Rendez-Vous' & 'Cardiocleptomanie'. This collection dives deep into Verdin's prolific and experimental music from 1980 to the beginning of this millennium, capturing an era of a DIY punk spirit, improvisation, creative freedom and swimming against the tide.

This album is not just a compilation-it's a sonic journey into Verdin's unique approach to music-making, which he nurtured in the AV studio at KU Leuven's Audiovisual Department (AVD). Having begun his civil service there in 1980, Verdin was exposed to a rich array of audio and video tools that would shape his work for years to come. From the outset, Verdin's process was defined by an openness to experimentation, where he would explore sound and music organically rather than following pre-existing concepts.

The songs on Pingpong reflect his fascination with creating spontaneous, layered compositions. These recordings were made using limited tools, such as his duophonic Yamaha CS-40M synthesizer, borrowed drum machines, and tape loops, and were further enriched by techniques such as reverb and vintage sound manipulation. The results are raw, tactile, and full of personality-often more vibrant and personal than the polished, commercial recordings that would follow in professional studios.

Throughout the 1980s and 1990s, Verdin developed his craft, regularly drawing from his diverse interests in film history, soundtracks, video art, and avant-garde music. His innovative use of tape recorders, improvisational techniques, and later, MIDI and digital tools, makes for a fascinating and varied listening experience. This compilation includes everything from proto-techno and abstract new wave to avant-pop songs, sample-driven experiments, and the oddball TV-inspired tunes that have long been a staple of his work.

This selection is a true reflection of Verdin's "keen amateur" approach: a method focused on discovery, happy accidents, and unexpected results. These compositions aren't about achieving technical perfection, but about capturing moments of sonic exploration and transformation. The 21 recordings have been meticulously curated, with some tracks freshly arranged while others remain true to their original, unedited forms.

'Pingpong' finally brings these forgotten gems into the light. The album includes not only unreleased music but also fragments from Verdin's video art and multimedia projects, offering a rare glimpse into his creative evolution over two decades. Stretching up the boundaries between medium and message, aligning his own musical univers.

Take a deep breath and dive into the works of an artist whose explorations pushed his boundaries of sound and technology.

A Belgian sonic cut up, ping ponging in between many worlds.

A dancehall anthem is being released on an official 7-inch vinyl for the very first time. It has been 15 years since Serani's 'No Games' was originally released. The song quickly became a part of pop culture, thanks in part to artists like Sean Paul, who helped pave the way for dancehall’s crossover success. To date, it has garnered over 166 million streams on Spotify, along with 50 million views on the video on YouTube and remains a popular sing-along track at parties. This special 7-inch vinyl will be produced in ruby red to commemorate the anniversary year.

WOLFDRIFTA makes it a hat trick of releases of his own Wolves That Drift imprint via the ‘Cybertron Utopia’ EP.

The EP’s influences are transatlantic in nature, fusing core elements of Drexicyan Detroit electro with Sheffield bleep, breakbeat and early techno. The release features three original cuts and a wigged out, brain tickling remix from Fabric resident Anna Wall.

The EP kicks off with the title track ‘Cybertron Utopia’, a track characterised by it’s subtle deepness, driven by breaks and emotive pads. Closing out the A-side Anna Wall provides her take on the track adding the aforementioned wigged out-ness.

The flip opens with ‘Leave Luck To Heaven’ which harkens back to the early (and some one say golden) years of UK club music, dilated pupils at the ready for this subtle banger… ‘Stray Dog In Tokyo’ wraps up an impressive third release for the burgeoning imprint.

Almost as soon as Σtella Chronopoulou began writing Adagio, her fifth album as Σtella, she knew the time had finally come to sing in Greek, her native tongue. It would be a first. She started the record almost by accident in 2019, during an 11-hour boat ride to the island of Anafi. Σtella had recently gone through a patch of personal turmoil and needed a break from home. On the ferry, she pulled out her cell phone as the boat clipped through the Mediterranean and began with a simple melody, steadily piecing together a rough instrumental. As psychedelic keyboards twinkled and swayed above staccato drums, the track suggested some deep exhalation, as if Σtella were letting go of long-unnecessary baggage. For a spell, she set the instrumental aside. She wasn’t ready yet, or in a rush. Σtella, after all, grew up in a slow place. During her youth in a relatively rural suburb of Athens, Greece, she and her friends played unfettered in empty streets, not worried about cars or permission, and living felt easy. But in the last decade life has steadily become busier for Σtella, now based in the heart of Athens. She has become one of modern Greece’s most popular musical exports, with three sophisticated, playful pop albums rendered with international élan. After her Sub Pop debut, Up and Away, in 2022, she catapulted beyond three million monthly Spotify listeners. That success was a blessing, but Σtella sometimes found herself pining for the slower pace of her youth. That longing is the thread that loosely binds together her fifth album, the entrancing Adagio. Borrowing its name from the term for music that’s meant to be played slowly, Adagio is a pop record that feels like a very warm blanket, its nylon-string guitars and featherlight percussion swaddling its listeners for three minutes at a time. Written and recorded over the span of five years, with a consortium of international collaborators including !!!’s Rafael Cohen and British songwriter Gabriel Stebbing, Adagio is a 27-minute meditation on love and desire, rest and time. Though the bulk of it is sung in English, Σtella delivers her first two songs in Greek here—“Omorfo Mou,” the one that began on the boat, and a cover of a 1969 cult classic of the Greek New Wave, Litsa Sakelariou’s “Ta Vimata.” It is a sign of the self-assurance that radiates throughout these tender and smitten little tunes. Start to finish, Σtella sounds more at ease and comfortable than she’s ever been on Adagio. These fetching songs will not slow her career or grant her that title track’s wish. But, for half an hour, Adagio adds a measure of warmth to the world, with time loosening its grip even if it doesn’t slow down.● Athens, Greece-based Σtella’s new album Adagio is a pop record that feels like a very warm blanket, its nylon-string guitars and featherlight percussion swaddling its listeners for three minutes at a time.● Features Rafael Cohen and British songwriter Gabriel Stebbing.• Σtella’s breakout hit “Charmed” from her 2022 album Up and Away has nearly 100 million streams, and was recently featured in the hit Max show Industry.• On Spotify, Σtella has 3.4 million followers, 66k monthly listeners.

On April 4th, Brighton-based Australian vocalist, producer, and multi-instrumentalist Penelope Trappes will release her fifth full-length album ‘A Requiem’. It comes alongside news of her signing to London imprint, One Little Independent Records. ‘A Requiem’ collects ten haunting, ambient soundscapes - incantations of dreams and nightmares, of death and grief, as well as power and autonomy. Carnal, transcendent cello drones are used to exorcise historical and generational traumas in an evocative and macabre piece of gothic experimentalism.

Seeking solitude for what she knew would be an intense and cathartic writing experience, Trappes travelled to Scotland and isolated completely. Amidst meditative and psychedelic states, she channeled demons and accessed parts of herself she’d long desired to cleanse. During candle-lit recording sessions she found herself drawn to cello, an instrument she has no formal training in, she explains, “I always felt an affinity toward the cello, I embraced it, held it, and became one with it as a way to accompany my voice. The nerve-like strings of the cello became external chords of my vocal folds… I scratched on them, leaned into them, and conjured all of the textures I could muster”.

‘A Requiem’ is a musical service in honour of the dead, a sanctuary Trappes built for herself to explore familial chaos and history. “I was looking for an equilibrium between a ‘heaven' and a ‘hell’” she explains, “screaming out to the wisdom of our foremothers - surfacing and leading me into true strength and beauty. I listened to the sorrow closely. Death is a part of our reality. Inevitable. Omnipresent. But nightmares can be beautiful”.

She continues, “This album is my personal requiem for my parents, my ties to the land where I was born, along with all of my epigenetically connected ancestors before them. The songs helped me summon up the strength to move through my own awareness of mortality, death, and impending loss. This album is a living funeral. It’s a ceremonial collection of music. It’s an externalising of the power and strength to fight the generations of abuse and darkness that my parents self-admittedly played out in their parenting and to keep it away from my own social patterns and my psyche. It’s not an uncommon thing in the world and this lamented warcry goes out to everyone to help exorcise patriarchal, political, and religious systems of abuses of power”.

Kneading dough is tricky – you should know how it’s supposed to feel. If you try too hard you could make it worse. It’s a beautiful practice – creation with a gentle touch, to work at something so it can be left alone. “If it’s too drawn out it’s awful. It’s easy to give too much.” Dance in the mirror. Contemplate your veiny hands. Who do they remind you of?

You begin by mixing flour and water. “What happens when your people die? Why’d they move the rock to the other side of Ulster Park?” Eliza Niemi asks two seemingly unrelated questions in a rising melody with guitar accompaniment, like fingers playing spider up to the nape of your neck. Gentle pressure. Strands of gluten form to bind the mix. A new question lingers in the binding. When she admits “but I don’t know how to tell if I’m feeling it or not,” that question surfaces through the text. It is reiterated throughout the album. When I’m working with dough I think the same thing to myself.

On Progress Bakery, her second album as a solo artist, Eliza knows to leave some questions alone – to let juxtaposition and tension be the proof. It doesn’t have to be hard. The feelings and revelations they provoke rise in the heat. The smell is sweet. Crispy on the outside and soft all the way through. She playfully slip-slides through words and sounds and images, delighting in surprise, skimming ideas like stones cast across clear water, touching down briefly with uncommon grace.

The question provoked between those opening lines resurfaces in the strands between songs – “Do U FM” is fully formed and beautifully layered, while “Novelist Sad Face” is a short, acapella rendering of gentle curiosity. What is holding these ideas together? Some songs demand more, seem to carry a whole load – eventually the skipping stone will halt to sink and resume its idle duty – while others drift in and out of focus, the way thoughts and dreams become interwoven before the mind is sunk into true sleep.

Music and words don’t always have to interact. Where she decides to keep them apart gives a new contour to where and how she puts them together. The kind of thing you’re supposed to take for granted with songs and their singers comes alive in Eliza’s hands – the little miracle of mixing, kneading, stretching, and stopping.

So often on Progress Bakery, Eliza teases out truth and meaning by asking questions. “Do I wanna be crying?” “Do you want me good or do you want me bad?” “Do I need an eye test?” “I’m writing songs in my head while you’re going over stuff with me — is that cruel??” In “Pocky” Eliza ends with a question that feels to me like the actual biography, succinct and revealing:

I don’t wanna be made to see
I just wanna ask “what’s that?”

Grace that ought to be rare, but in its care and precision is offered humbly, with great generosity, and without announcing itself. Eliza’s simple, miraculous music is given further form and shape by a group of collaborators – invaluable guest musicians Jeremy Ray, Evan Cartwright, Steven McPhail, Kenny Boothby, Ed Squires, Carolina Chauffe, Dorothea Paas, Louie Short, and Avalon Tassonyi. Together with Louie Short, who recorded, mixed, and produced the album along with Jeremy Ray and Lukas Cheung, Eliza has cultivated a richness in sound and texture that prods and provokes the ticklish ear. Barely audible guitar tinkering, a brief lo-fi field recording of trumpets, the harmonic clicking of a looped synthesizer, a flourish of reeds, a child’s conversation, each uncanny sound perfectly placed, rippling out under a soft breeze.

Lay in bed alone at night and ask aloud to the stillness,

“What were you doing at the Albuquerque Airport?
What were you doing there??”

And hear your question answered by a dream of swelling, undulating cellos. Try to grasp at the melody and structure. It’s not an answer (if there could be one), but it moves deeper, closer to the weird layer of fleeting moments and disconnected images, barely perceptible at its core. Wait for the dream reel to click into place.

Eliza took me for a ride in Nicole (her beloved Dodge Grand Caravan) and told me she’d been thinking of the album as an embodiment of transition – and I think every transition, known or unknown, carries the weight of new meaning, skittering off the surface tension of life as you know it, creating ripples, sometimes bouncing off and sometimes breaking through. There is a trick you can use to tell if a dough is glutinous enough. You’re supposed to stretch it out as thin as you can without breaking it and hold it up to the light. If you can see through, even if it renders the world murky and uncertain, you should leave it alone. I love this trick. It’s one that Eliza seems to know intuitively: work gently and ask questions and don’t always expect answers, and when you can, take a glimpse at something new, and then leave.

Kneading dough is tricky – you should know how it’s supposed to feel. If you try too hard you could make it worse. It’s a beautiful practice – creation with a gentle touch, to work at something so it can be left alone. “If it’s too drawn out it’s awful. It’s easy to give too much.” Dance in the mirror. Contemplate your veiny hands. Who do they remind you of?

You begin by mixing flour and water. “What happens when your people die? Why’d they move the rock to the other side of Ulster Park?” Eliza Niemi asks two seemingly unrelated questions in a rising melody with guitar accompaniment, like fingers playing spider up to the nape of your neck. Gentle pressure. Strands of gluten form to bind the mix. A new question lingers in the binding. When she admits “but I don’t know how to tell if I’m feeling it or not,” that question surfaces through the text. It is reiterated throughout the album. When I’m working with dough I think the same thing to myself.

On Progress Bakery, her second album as a solo artist, Eliza knows to leave some questions alone – to let juxtaposition and tension be the proof. It doesn’t have to be hard. The feelings and revelations they provoke rise in the heat. The smell is sweet. Crispy on the outside and soft all the way through. She playfully slip-slides through words and sounds and images, delighting in surprise, skimming ideas like stones cast across clear water, touching down briefly with uncommon grace.

The question provoked between those opening lines resurfaces in the strands between songs – “Do U FM” is fully formed and beautifully layered, while “Novelist Sad Face” is a short, acapella rendering of gentle curiosity. What is holding these ideas together? Some songs demand more, seem to carry a whole load – eventually the skipping stone will halt to sink and resume its idle duty – while others drift in and out of focus, the way thoughts and dreams become interwoven before the mind is sunk into true sleep.

Music and words don’t always have to interact. Where she decides to keep them apart gives a new contour to where and how she puts them together. The kind of thing you’re supposed to take for granted with songs and their singers comes alive in Eliza’s hands – the little miracle of mixing, kneading, stretching, and stopping.

So often on Progress Bakery, Eliza teases out truth and meaning by asking questions. “Do I wanna be crying?” “Do you want me good or do you want me bad?” “Do I need an eye test?” “I’m writing songs in my head while you’re going over stuff with me — is that cruel??” In “Pocky” Eliza ends with a question that feels to me like the actual biography, succinct and revealing:

I don’t wanna be made to see
I just wanna ask “what’s that?”

Grace that ought to be rare, but in its care and precision is offered humbly, with great generosity, and without announcing itself. Eliza’s simple, miraculous music is given further form and shape by a group of collaborators – invaluable guest musicians Jeremy Ray, Evan Cartwright, Steven McPhail, Kenny Boothby, Ed Squires, Carolina Chauffe, Dorothea Paas, Louie Short, and Avalon Tassonyi. Together with Louie Short, who recorded, mixed, and produced the album along with Jeremy Ray and Lukas Cheung, Eliza has cultivated a richness in sound and texture that prods and provokes the ticklish ear. Barely audible guitar tinkering, a brief lo-fi field recording of trumpets, the harmonic clicking of a looped synthesizer, a flourish of reeds, a child’s conversation, each uncanny sound perfectly placed, rippling out under a soft breeze.

Lay in bed alone at night and ask aloud to the stillness,

“What were you doing at the Albuquerque Airport?
What were you doing there??”

And hear your question answered by a dream of swelling, undulating cellos. Try to grasp at the melody and structure. It’s not an answer (if there could be one), but it moves deeper, closer to the weird layer of fleeting moments and disconnected images, barely perceptible at its core. Wait for the dream reel to click into place.

Eliza took me for a ride in Nicole (her beloved Dodge Grand Caravan) and told me she’d been thinking of the album as an embodiment of transition – and I think every transition, known or unknown, carries the weight of new meaning, skittering off the surface tension of life as you know it, creating ripples, sometimes bouncing off and sometimes breaking through. There is a trick you can use to tell if a dough is glutinous enough. You’re supposed to stretch it out as thin as you can without breaking it and hold it up to the light. If you can see through, even if it renders the world murky and uncertain, you should leave it alone. I love this trick. It’s one that Eliza seems to know intuitively: work gently and ask questions and don’t always expect answers, and when you can, take a glimpse at something new, and then leave.

Colemine Records is excited to put out their first 45 with The Charities, a sweet-soul band out of sunny California. The group's sound is a melting pot of cultures, exhibiting a mix of soul, r&b, rock, and funk. The A-side of this 45, 'Fatal Attraction,' explores just that. In some relationships, the very qualities that draw you in can also lead to your destruction. She's captivating_beautiful, intelligent, and charming_but beneath the surface, she's narcissistic and self-centered, with no regard for the pain she causes. When you're lost in the intensity of love, it's easy to overlook these darker traits. But when the time comes for her to move on, she'll strike without hesitation, delivering a blow that cuts deep. Her words, sharp as a knife, tear through your heart with cold precision. As you bleed out, she offers nothing but a final, indifferent goodbye...."It's Not Our Time," on the B, tells the story of two lovers who find themselves at a crossroads, torn apart by the struggles they face in this chapter of their lives. Perhaps in the future, they'll rekindle their love and spark a new flame_one that burns even brighter then before. It's a bittersweet goodbye, with the belief that the distance and time apart will only strengthen their bond when the moment is right.The tracks are produced by Anthony Masino and were recorded at Penrose Recordings in Riverside, CA.

Take Me Out To a Bar / What Am I, Gatsby? marks a deliberate pivot. The album’s open, introductory chords evoke seem fit to score a scene in a Michael Haneke movie in which some stern German woman stomps down a whitewashed hallway. By the time that Chadwick’s crackly soprano joins in, it figures almost as a kind of intrusion upon what had been, up until that point, a pure mood. “You don’t have to listen to all the lyrics,” she attests. Chadwick's calling card since her earliest releases — a jagged, one-take immediacy — has been dialed back, leaving room to inconspicuously crowbar as much poeticism into the songs as she possibly could.