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Lewis Taylor's legendary magnum opus: The Lost Album. "Now you're talking. That's my favourite LT album. Unlike all of the others, there isn't anything about it that embarrasses me." Straight from the genius's mouth. What can we say about this? Well, it's the most requested record ever at Be With Towers. The Lost Album was the intended follow-up to his first album but Island rejected it for fear of "confusing" the marketplace and its conception of Lewis as a soul artist. Their loss. It's a breezy sunset masterpiece.

The genesis of this incredible record needs unpicking a bit. Lewis stopped promoting the first album after a year and went home to record a completely different record that was the most un-R&B album you could probably ever hear: "I pushed in such an extreme direction the other way with what eventually became The Lost Album. It was a knee-jerk reaction to a perceived ‘trapped in R&B’ feeling I was going through at the time. Some people around me were in favour of it and others weren’t. In the end I think I lost confidence in it and did Lewis II instead." We did at least get Lewis II, which is a remarkable album, and he kept Island happy...for a bit. Not long after, Lewis was dropped. And what was to become The Lost Album could've been...er...lost. Forever.

Thankfully, however, Lewis and longtime partner Sabina Smyth revisited those scrapped demo tracks in 2003. They decided to re-arrange, re-record and then self-release them. So it was that the brand new version of The Lost Album finally dropped in late 2004. It's sheer perfection, and we don't say that lightly. The Lost Album was a fully 50/50 collaboration between Lewis and Smyth. As well as production, Sabina did a lot more writing on it, from the melody to "Listen Here" to the chord sequence for "Let's Hope Nobody Finds Us." Thankfully, Sabina is credited this time around.

No, it's not straight up "soul music" in the vein of his previous work. Yet, in its perfectly formed suite of one dozen songs, The Lost Album is dripping in soul. It's so warm, so effervescent and so alive with possibilities. It features deep, fresh imprints on well-loved, accessible sounds. It's a proper 70s style double album. Just one listen and the musical influences on The Lost Album are fairly self-explanatory, as Lewis recently told us, but it's always nice to hear that, in case we were in any doubt, he was definitely channeling Love, Yes, Brian Wilson, CSN, Laura Nyro and, of course, Todd Rundgren. The influences don't end there: "I’m particularly fond of my bass playing on that album, there’s a lot of Chris Squire going on which is cool."

Deep orchestral opener "Lost" is a sublime, harp-laced, string drenched gem, a cinematic, melancholic Axelrod-esque mini-epic that simply beguiles. Written by Smyth, it evokes Donny Hathaway's celestial "I Love The Lord, He Heard My Cry" from Extensions Of A Man. The only problem is the brief 90 seconds running time. It segues into the classic Brian Wilson-meets-power-pop-rock splendour of "Listen Here" which, with its outstanding extended harp-licked beatless intro, sounds like the younger cousin to Boston's "More Than A Feeling". We then drift into the ringing guitars of classic 70s rock anthem "Hide Your Heart Away". It's Lewis's personal favourite, "especially the multi-tracked guitar solo – I was listening to Boston at the time, which was fun." A-ha!

A new version of the heart-stopping, shoulda-been-a-massive-pop-hit "Send Me An Angel" opens Side B before the arrival of, in Lewis's completely correct words, "the clear standout, "Leader of the Band"; the perfect distillation of everything that album was trying to achieve." Soaring, piano-led Rundgren-esque power pop that makes the hairs on the back of your next stand on end. Truly, otherworldly. This is pure pop for now (and then) people. The simple jangly brilliance meets experimental prog-rock of "Yeah" sounds like simultaneously like prime CSNY and late 90s Radiohead (if they'd had a slightly more accessible bent and could write better tunes).

Oh, you wish The Beach Boys had continued writing amazing songs beyond Holland? Well, allow us to point you in the direction of the downlifting stunner "Please Help Me If You Can" and the warm textures and brilliant atmospherics of goosebump-inducer "Let’s Hope Nobody Finds Us". Words can't really describe the sheer beauty of these songs. So we'll stop trying. Just listen. Listen, listen, listen. Closing out this remarkable side of music, the accidentally Balearic "New Morning" should be blasting out at every sunrise set in Ibiza, this summer and forevermore.

The final side opens with the vaguely Beatlesey "Say I Love You". It's just classic, soaring pop-rock songwriting and should strictly be canonical. It's that good. The sassy, Stonesy swagger of "See My Way" injects enough rock'n'roll attitude to compensate for the rest of record's peace-loving, AOR sun-dappled vibe whilst album closer, "One More Mystery", emerging out of the rubble of the previous track, comes on initially like a Baroque-Pop George Harrison before piling crunching drums and screeching guitar solos atop the dreamy harmonies til close.

When asked what it means to have these records available on vinyl for the first time, Lewis is in no doubt: "It’s great and it’s really nice to be able to offer fans a different listening experience. There’s a whole other dimension with vinyl that taps into that whole nostalgia thing, well for me anyway. Something about the physical aspect of pulling it out of the sleeve and putting it on, it does tend to make you feel like you’re more engaged."

Lewis was adamant that he wanted all new artwork for The Lost Album vinyl sleeve and his brief was just the sort of classic tropical-beach-at-sunset you’d want to see on the front of a record that sounds like this. On the finished sleeve, the beach at sunset is just where we start out, before heading up through the painterly clouds and heading out into the stars. And yes, the lettering is a definite subtle nod to all those in-between-period Beach Boys bootlegs we all love. Simon Francis's sensitive mastering combines with Cicely Balston's precise cut for Alchemy at AIR Studios so the album sounds appropriately outstanding. The immaculate Record Industry double LP pressing will ensure this previously lost masterpiece stays forever found.

In a world of endless, bottomless content, to find something that stands out from the crowd is a rare thing. But it’s something that 7ebra manage without breaking a sweat. Based in Malmö, twin sisters Inez and Ella Johansson deal in sparkling indie-rock that’s pretty without being soft, sweet without losing its edge and catchy without being cheap. With Inez on guitar and vocals and Ella on keys, organ and Mellotron, their minimal set-up makes a virtue of simplicity – with a sliver of guitar fuzz, and organ lines snaking around stark, striking vocals, augmented by shivering harmonies, they don’t need a lot to make music that’s colourful, kaleidoscopic, and effortlessly original.

7ebra debuted in 2022 with the double-single “I Have A Lot To Say”/ “If I Ask Her”, two helpings of psych-tinged, street-smart rock and roll, and the music scene around them wasn’t slow to notice. They opened for the Future Islands and the Dandy Warhols, were picked out by Apple Music’s Matt Wilkinson as a Hidden Gem of 2022 and were booked for prestigious showcases SXSW and Eurosonic. With a packed schedule of shows across Europe and the UK already planned for 2023, their world looks set to get a lot bigger – something that their debut album Bird Hour makes certain. The record is a warm, elegant introduction to the sound 7ebra have crafted. The songs are full of personality and character, but also retain a little bit of enigma, a sense of keeping something secret to themselves. To unwrap that elusiveness is a daunting task, but one the listener can’t resist leaping into.

Ella and Inez’s parents played in bands as they were growing up, so picking up music was a natural thing for them. The origins of 7ebra start with Inez whiling away the hours playing guitar in her bedroom. “I learned by playing covers by myself in my room”, she says. “Ella didn’t do that as much, but we sometimes played and sang together, country songs”. Eventually she would start writing her own. Ella wasn’t involved originally (“we did play together a few times”, she says, “and it just went to shit laughs. We fought a lot”), and Inez was originally reluctant: “I was a bit unsure whether I wanted to be in a band with my sister. Because you get clumped together all the time, when you’re twins”. But Ella was keen to join, and eventually persuaded Inez to let her join for a show. It went – so well that producer Tore Johansson (The Cardigans, Franz Ferdinand), saw it and asked if they’d like to record with him. That changed things, says Ella: “It made us think there might be something in this music”. As a duo, 7ebra were in flight. “In the end, it’s kind of a nice thing too being sisters in a band”, Inez says. “It doesn’t bother me anymore. It just made sense to play together”.

On the album that they eventually came up with, the talent that caught Johansson’s eye is immediately obvious. Opener “Secretly Bad” has a way of walking along your nerves, an eerie echo of a hymn in Inez’s vocal backed by a swirl of woozy blend of guitars and organ. That’s followed up by “I Like To Pretend”, an easily charming song that has a sleepy brightness about it, like morning sunlight breaking through a window. They take a couple of different genres for a whirl on Bird Hour – they’re tense and snappy on “If I Ask Her”, breezy and cocky on “Lighter Better”, and there’s even a couple of droplets of blues and folk in the mix, in the raw intensity of the emotions in the slower songs, the vulnerability and aching of songs like “Lean” and “Stripey Horsey”. The record has a way of sweeping you along in its mood and tones, fuelled in part by the band’s use of repetition, sometimes fast and fevered, sometimes crawling and hypnotic. The duo’s musical input blends perfectly, with Inez’s guitar and vocals forming the core, and Ella drawing in the detail with keys, organ, and harmonies, to really bring out the vivid nature of the songs. Indie rock that’s melodic and sweet, but with enough shadow mixed in to make it really compelling.

On Bird Hour, what strikes you first about 7ebra’s sound is how fully formed it is, how much they’ve carved out their own sonic territory, perfected by trial and error in the studio with Johansson. “Tore wanted us to try everything possible”, says Ella. “We had moments where things weren’t working. But that was necessary in order to find the good stuff”. 7ebra’s signature might be found in the deft way they deal with emotion – unafraid of being open, but a little too clever to make things too clear cut: “You can’t take yourself that seriously. It’s too emotional to take it seriously, to start hating yourself. But at the same time, it is quite serious”, says Ella. Another trademark is the simplicity – a 7ebra song has just enough to make it work, and nothing more. “I think it was important for me that our voices were at the centre of the songs”, says Inez, “that all the little melodies have their place, and don’t get overwhelmed. With lyrics, I sometimes come up with something, and just feel ‘there’s no need to add more to this’. Sometimes a line works by itself. You don’t have to add a bunch of lyrics”. Finally, the album’s themes are ones that will resonate with most people that have set foot on this planet. “I guess it’s about trying to understand yourself, in relation to others. Just life. ‘Why am I not good at this, why is this thing happening to me, why is this thing so hard, why am I so stupid?’”, laughs Ella.

7ebra haven’t been around for very long – but a handful of songs and their fizzing live shows have stirred up the biggest buzz in Scandinavian music in quite a while. Their debut album justifies it all. It showcases the magic they’re capable of conjuring up, and hints at even more to come in the future. But from where they are right now, they’ve made something very special. Bird Hour takes all that promise and turns it into something concrete, in the form of one of the year’s best rock debuts.

In a world of endless, bottomless content, to find something that stands out from the crowd is a rare thing. But it’s something that 7ebra manage without breaking a sweat. Based in Malmö, twin sisters Inez and Ella Johansson deal in sparkling indie-rock that’s pretty without being soft, sweet without losing its edge and catchy without being cheap. With Inez on guitar and vocals and Ella on keys, organ and Mellotron, their minimal set-up makes a virtue of simplicity – with a sliver of guitar fuzz, and organ lines snaking around stark, striking vocals, augmented by shivering harmonies, they don’t need a lot to make music that’s colourful, kaleidoscopic, and effortlessly original.

7ebra debuted in 2022 with the double-single “I Have A Lot To Say”/ “If I Ask Her”, two helpings of psych-tinged, street-smart rock and roll, and the music scene around them wasn’t slow to notice. They opened for the Future Islands and the Dandy Warhols, were picked out by Apple Music’s Matt Wilkinson as a Hidden Gem of 2022 and were booked for prestigious showcases SXSW and Eurosonic. With a packed schedule of shows across Europe and the UK already planned for 2023, their world looks set to get a lot bigger – something that their debut album Bird Hour makes certain. The record is a warm, elegant introduction to the sound 7ebra have crafted. The songs are full of personality and character, but also retain a little bit of enigma, a sense of keeping something secret to themselves. To unwrap that elusiveness is a daunting task, but one the listener can’t resist leaping into.

Ella and Inez’s parents played in bands as they were growing up, so picking up music was a natural thing for them. The origins of 7ebra start with Inez whiling away the hours playing guitar in her bedroom. “I learned by playing covers by myself in my room”, she says. “Ella didn’t do that as much, but we sometimes played and sang together, country songs”. Eventually she would start writing her own. Ella wasn’t involved originally (“we did play together a few times”, she says, “and it just went to shit laughs. We fought a lot”), and Inez was originally reluctant: “I was a bit unsure whether I wanted to be in a band with my sister. Because you get clumped together all the time, when you’re twins”. But Ella was keen to join, and eventually persuaded Inez to let her join for a show. It went – so well that producer Tore Johansson (The Cardigans, Franz Ferdinand), saw it and asked if they’d like to record with him. That changed things, says Ella: “It made us think there might be something in this music”. As a duo, 7ebra were in flight. “In the end, it’s kind of a nice thing too being sisters in a band”, Inez says. “It doesn’t bother me anymore. It just made sense to play together”.

On the album that they eventually came up with, the talent that caught Johansson’s eye is immediately obvious. Opener “Secretly Bad” has a way of walking along your nerves, an eerie echo of a hymn in Inez’s vocal backed by a swirl of woozy blend of guitars and organ. That’s followed up by “I Like To Pretend”, an easily charming song that has a sleepy brightness about it, like morning sunlight breaking through a window. They take a couple of different genres for a whirl on Bird Hour – they’re tense and snappy on “If I Ask Her”, breezy and cocky on “Lighter Better”, and there’s even a couple of droplets of blues and folk in the mix, in the raw intensity of the emotions in the slower songs, the vulnerability and aching of songs like “Lean” and “Stripey Horsey”. The record has a way of sweeping you along in its mood and tones, fuelled in part by the band’s use of repetition, sometimes fast and fevered, sometimes crawling and hypnotic. The duo’s musical input blends perfectly, with Inez’s guitar and vocals forming the core, and Ella drawing in the detail with keys, organ, and harmonies, to really bring out the vivid nature of the songs. Indie rock that’s melodic and sweet, but with enough shadow mixed in to make it really compelling.

On Bird Hour, what strikes you first about 7ebra’s sound is how fully formed it is, how much they’ve carved out their own sonic territory, perfected by trial and error in the studio with Johansson. “Tore wanted us to try everything possible”, says Ella. “We had moments where things weren’t working. But that was necessary in order to find the good stuff”. 7ebra’s signature might be found in the deft way they deal with emotion – unafraid of being open, but a little too clever to make things too clear cut: “You can’t take yourself that seriously. It’s too emotional to take it seriously, to start hating yourself. But at the same time, it is quite serious”, says Ella. Another trademark is the simplicity – a 7ebra song has just enough to make it work, and nothing more. “I think it was important for me that our voices were at the centre of the songs”, says Inez, “that all the little melodies have their place, and don’t get overwhelmed. With lyrics, I sometimes come up with something, and just feel ‘there’s no need to add more to this’. Sometimes a line works by itself. You don’t have to add a bunch of lyrics”. Finally, the album’s themes are ones that will resonate with most people that have set foot on this planet. “I guess it’s about trying to understand yourself, in relation to others. Just life. ‘Why am I not good at this, why is this thing happening to me, why is this thing so hard, why am I so stupid?’”, laughs Ella.

7ebra haven’t been around for very long – but a handful of songs and their fizzing live shows have stirred up the biggest buzz in Scandinavian music in quite a while. Their debut album justifies it all. It showcases the magic they’re capable of conjuring up, and hints at even more to come in the future. But from where they are right now, they’ve made something very special. Bird Hour takes all that promise and turns it into something concrete, in the form of one of the year’s best rock debuts.

Baby Rose makes healing music for the aimless and heartbroken. The Grammy-nominated singer/songwriter and producer's uniquely rich voice naturally lends itself to her powerful, smoke-filled ballads lamenting lost loves and broken futures. "I make music to help myself get through things," she says. The piercing honesty and vulnerability she brings to her lyrics in turn helps others process their feelings and find a place of healing. For Rose, it's a journey that's still ongoing. "If I'm going to leave anything behind, it's going to be getting people back to themselves," she says. "As I get back to myself, it's a constant reset: Remember who you are, remember who you want to be." You can hear the impact of this approach in Baby Rose's upcoming second album, Through and Through. Take the hypnotic "Fight Club." Over the track's simmering baseline and crashing cymbals, she declares, "I don't need no one else to show me the way." She describes the song as a "breaking of the shell. It encourages me to just go for it and not care about what anyone else thinks." Therein lies Baby Rose's strength: a determination to live, love, and create on her own terms. "I'm not just a singer with a unique voice," she says. "I'm somebody that has something to say." In the years since releasing her last album, To Myself, Rose has been painstakingly piecing together its sequel. Started almost immediately after its release, her new body of work finds her in a state of musical and personal transition. It's a subtle merging of new sounds_stirring rock, upbeat r&b, psychedelic funk, pop, and soulful ballads_, all mastered through analog tape to make the music feel warmer and all-encompassing. It's also a journey inward as she battles past fear and self-doubt to finally discover_and love_who she is, where she is. Finishing an album with such peace and firm resolution is a first for Rose, but she makes it clear: She's nowhere near done writing her story. "I think as long as I'm being raw and trying to push past my comfort zone, it will feel rewarding," she says. "I don't want to be the type that doesn't take risks because I'm afraid. I have to trust that as long as the music is honest and innovative, it'll be timeless."

In a career laden with highlights and hallmarks in the annals of soul history, 'Just As I Am' is rather overlooked as one of the best soul debuts ever issued. Beautifully remastered, 'Just as I Am' is presented to a new generation of listeners who may have missed out the first time. With this remastering comes an intimacy, warmth, and immediacy to the recordings that was only hinted at with previous versions; it's almost as if Withers is in a living room singing to a small group of people, rather than making a record. Of course, the instantly recognizable anthem "Ain't No Sunshine" gets all of the acclaim it so richly deserves, but also in tracks like "Harlem", 'Grandma's Hands' and "Better Off Dead" you can hear the intensity and maturity of Bill's performances. Even when he's doing covers, Withers makes them sound as if they are his own compositions.
Give this classic record a spin, and get ready to be submersed in the Soul of one of the true masters of the genre!

“Wild Boy …” is a reissue of the well-known 2016 release curated by Brian Chidester, renowned researcher and biographer of Eden Ahbez. Especially for this album, Brian wrote an interesting text about Abi’s life, which definitely became the decoration of the release.
With the new 2020 re-release, we went a little further and kept what is commonly referred to as studio cuts. It’s a few more minutes in the studio with ahbez himself, full of emotion and life. In addition, to the delight of fans, the edition includes an additional composition Nature Boy (Mantovani Orchestra).
Especially, it is worth noting the outstanding mastering prepared from practically decomposed tapes by the Grammy-nominated Jessica Thompson, which guarantees the deepest and warmth possible sound. Jessica a huge ahbez fan and we’re highly appreciated for what she has done to save his music for the future.
Eden Ahbez is definitely at the origin of psychedelic music and this release can be taken as further proof. Over the past twenty years, the iconic figure of the world’s first hippie Eden ahbez has become famous primarily for his 1948 song “Nature Boy”, praising universal love, and his amazingly solo album from the 1960s called “Eden’s Island” – one from the first concept albums in the history of music and probably the first psychedelic music album. “Wild Boy: The Lost Songs Of Eden Ahbez” deepens understanding of the origins of the psychedelic movement in the 1950s.
The disc contains a musical selection of works by Eden ahbez himself, written by him in the period after Nature Boy. The inclusion of songs such as “Palm Springs” – Ray Anthony Orchestra and “Hey Jacques” by Erta Kitt gives the listener the chance to discover for the first time the little-known recordings of world-famous artists composed by Eden ahbez. Through “Wild Boy” and “Surfer John” you can hear the author’s handling of absurd rock and exotic experimentation, as well as sweet psychedelic pop like Monterey (with Paul Horn on flute). Overall, Wild Boy: The Lost Songs Of Eden Ahbez offers an overview of the lost works of 1949-1971 with seven unpublished recordings and eight rare singles.
If in 2020 you are missing the hallucinogenic content in Eden Ahbez, it amazingly makes up for that deficiency with simple chords, expansive arrangements, and lyrics about travel, relaxation, free love, and spirituality. Thus creating the standard of psychedelic music. Eden Ahbez’s songs weren’t only fantasy and his personal philosophy was the real thing that he lived.

reviews:

“This carefully and extensively researched compilation culls covers by top notch mainstream artists juxtaposed with unreleased Eden recordings. What might sound like a mixed bag is actually more like a chronological, musical non-fiction novel about Eden Ahbez. While Eden was writing hundreds of songs and performing live and making recordings in various styles, his songs were also being picked up by popular artists like Nat King Cole and Eartha Kitt who recorded with a more polished mainstream style. There are also some early rock n roll style recordings here. Eden’s professionally recordings often end up as Novelty Pop records such as “Child of Nature” and “The Clam Man” but if you read between the lines and listen to the lyrics it is pretty eye-opening that he is singing about Eastern-religion-style and pre-hippie philosophies about being at one with the planet Earth.
All of this is explained in the lengthy liner notes inside the lp along with a few choice photos that establish Eden as a founding father of Southern California mystic/psychedelic music.” – Tiki_News
“Eden Ahbez’s life philosophy was summed up in the lyrics of his most famous song, “Nature Boy,” a 1948 hit for Nat King Cole: the song describes a “strange enchanted boy” who wanders the world in search of truth. “The greatest thing you’ll ever learn,” he concludes, “is to love and be loved in return.” Ahbez was a pre-cursor of California’s beatniks and hippies, and an exalted icon of ex-otica via his rare 1960 album Eden’s Island. Beyond “Nature Boy” and Eden’s Island, though, there were nu-merous lesser-known Ahbez record-ings. Ahbez biographer Brian Chidester has been doing an exemplary job of archiving and documenting that catalog of work. The Exotic World of Eden Ahbez (reviewed in UT#38) appeared a few years ago, gathering together 14 Ahbez-related rarities” – Ugly Things

The Well & The Gentle, two of the major works of Pauline Oliveros, are presented here in a first time reissue on double vinyl in a gatefold sleeve with extensive liner notes.

If Oliveros had followed a more conventional path she may have, all social obstacles aside, been considered among the major composers of her time. However, Oliveros approached composition in a more egalitarian manner. She wrote music for musicians to interact with or, in the composers words, she wished to create "an inclusive and interdependent and unfolding world of relationships."

Oliveros' propensity towards inclusion is part of what makes this work so remarkably distinctive. The Well & The Gentle is carefully crafted, allowing performers to participate in the creation of the work. Players are asked to collaborate, focus, react and make imaginative choices. Only then can the performers "pass through stages of awakening to the possibilities inherent in making music, working together, leading to the essence of what can shape musical impulses and individual freedom simultaneously."

Unlike most major composers of the era, Oliveros' work focuses on collaboration and improvisation. For Oliveros, the processes involved in making music are as fundamental as the music itself. Oliveros creates, as Arthur Sabatini put it so eloquently in the liner notes, "A world in which sound and the practices entailed in making music merge; become, at once, source and atmosphere, energy and essence, presence and dynamic."

Pauline Oliveros was an electronic music pioneer, accordionist, composer and educator who resided in Kingston, New York. Her instrument was tuned in Just Intonation and she often included it in her meditative improvisational music. Her music is not meditative in the sense that it is intended for listening to while meditating, rather each piece is a form of meditation, such as her aptly titled Sonic Meditations.

A central figure in post-war electronic art music, Oliveros is one of the original members of the San Francisco Tape Music Center (along with Morton Subotnick, Ramon Sender, Terry Riley, Steve Reich and Anthony Martin), which was the resource on the U.S. West coast for electronic music during the 1960s. The Center later moved to Mills College, where she was its first director, and is now called the Center for Contemporary Music. Oliveros often improvised with the Expanded Instrument System, an electronic signal processing system she designed, in her performances and recordings.

On her third album, Berlin-based Dutch-Italian composer and sound designer Aimée Portioli, aka Grand River, asks what guiding forces might be driving, enticing, and affecting us. “All Above” is rooted in her deeply personal philosophy as an artist, blurring the boundaries between electronic music and acoustic music and sculpting familiar ambient forms into personal themes painted with rich emotional colours. Written painstakingly over the last two years, the album is the most ambitious and divergent set of music Portioli has assembled so far, with a wide variety of instrumentation (including voices, strings, organs, guitars, and synthesisers) focused around the piano. She‘s keen to assure listeners that while that instrument isn‘t always heard, it‘s constantly at the forefront of the album, shepherding its emotions and anchoring its mood. It makes sense then that on the opening track ‘Quasicristallo’, the acoustic piano is the first element we hear, recorded closely, so its characteristic rattle and creak can speak as loudly as the familiar tones themselves. When the music blooms into abstraction and processed electronics, it‘s almost imperceptible: reverb mutates into ghostly vapour trails, and distortion forms the keys into another instrument entirely.

“All Above“ follows 2020‘s acclaimed “Blink A Few Times To Clear Your Eyes“ and 2018‘s “Pineapple” released on Donato Dozzy and Neel‘s Spazio Disponibile imprint. Having garnered praise from outlets like Resident Advisor, XLR8R, The Quietus, Inverted Audio, and The Verge, Portioli operates in a unique space within the electronic music scene, straddling the art world and the wider electronic music scene. She‘s developed sound art installations for Rome‘s La Galleria Nazionale and the Terraforma Festival-related Il Pianeta, and has appeared at Barbican, MUTEK, Le Guess Who?, Kraftwerk, and other internationally renowned venues and festivals, often collaborating with Marco Ciceri on A/V presentations. Ciceri also maintains the visual identity of Portioli‘s label One Instrument, a concept imprint that asks artists to create music only using a single device. All this experience is poured into “All Above”, a richly visual album that‘s far more than just an imaginary film score. While on ‘Human’, her piano punctuates a rhythmic synthesised bassline and smudged choirs that can‘t help but trace out the silver screen. The composer is keen to clarify that she doesn‘t think of her music (or sound in general) in visual terms.

Portioli studied as a linguist and used her art to develop an emotional language that‘s not bound by expected cultural constraints. When she adds a different instrument or process, it‘s not to reference a visual cue but to mark a journey through different states of being. Each element embodies a different emotion or mood: the electric guitar represents strength or violence, synthesisers shuttle us into the dream world, and the acoustic instruments highlight intimacy and warmth – even heart. Read like this, the tracks are like meditative poems rather than cinematic vignettes: ‘The World At Number XX’ is seemingly centred around a chugging synthesised arpeggio, but the cosmic, Klaus Schulze-esque pads, strangled guitar and evocative organ tones hint at the open-hearted, literate psychedelia of the 1970s; ‘In The Present As The Future’ meanwhile is breathy and windswept, juxtaposing urgent rhythmic phrases with light, flute-like gusts of harmony.

Dedicated to Editions Mego founder Peter Rehberg, who died suddenly last year, “All Above” demands engagement and refuses to evaporate into the background. The album asks listeners not just to absorb the album as a whole but notice the cracks in the structure and discern the tension they cause. That‘s never more evident than on the closing track ‘Cost What It May’, a piece of music almost jarring when Portioli chops into noisy waves of electric guitar. In the wrong hands, this might sound like a power move – some rock posturing to act as a finale. But Portioli‘s expression is different. She‘s forcing a level of engagement that perceives the negative space as just as necessary as the saturated positive, and what could be more haunting and emotionally resonant than that?

Composed, produced and mixed by Aimée Portioli.
Mastered by Stephan Mathieu.
Cut by Andreas Kauffelt at Schnittstelle, Berlin.
Photography by Federico Boccardi.
Design and layout by Riccardo Piovesan.

If you find the time, please come and stay a while in abracadabra’s beautiful neighbourhood; a magically wonky wonderland where strangers leave as friends to a block party soundtrack as eclectic as it is infectious. The California duo’s album shapes & colors is a dazzling collage of psych-fuelled synthscapes and contemporary Baroque-pop of anti-capitalist movements and escapism, precisely pieced around their own working lives in a blue-collar town.
In the heart of Oakland’s industrial Jingletown above a former auto-repair shop in what was once a mechanics’ break room where poker rounds ensued, Hannah Skelton (Vocals, Synthesizers) and Chris Niles, (Bass, Synthesizers) constructed the angular 80s-tinged anthems (think John Hughes montages to Talking Heads) of their new album, to positively offset the pandemic’s amplification of dysfunctional society. “It reflects our current reality: a huge mess that is systematically broken but isn’t entirely lost,” Hannah tells. “We’re inviting listeners to conjure up every drop of hope and willpower left inside them, pour that into the giant vat of anger and frustration bubbling inside us all, and with this potion collectively enact the necessary change to bring love and light into this dark space.”
When Covid forced Hannah from her salon in San Francisco to become a backyard mobile hairdresser, what she saw inspired them both and the lyrical foundations for their new record. “I’d drive to mansions and people would complain about how hard the pandemic had been next to their swimming pool and tennis courts.” First meeting after the album’s co-producer Jason Kick (Mild High Club, Sonny and the Sunsets) recruited the pair for a Halloween band covering Eurythmics’ art-rock debut ‘In The Garden,’ the pair hit it off and shapes & colors is a product of the years that followed. It combines Chris’ own rhythmic demos following years on the road touring and opening for Amon Tobin, Matthew Dear and Generationals in Maus Haus with Hannah’s lyrical musings honed from project Cassiopeia, so even when topics are as heavy as the beats, they’re met with luminously positive arrangements of hope and warmth.
The by-product of a psychedelic New Year’s Eve escaping a monotonous 2020 reality, the title track itself captures fireworks over East Oakland as viewed from the pair’s couch whilst listening to Mort Garson’s Plantasia for 6 hours straight. The daydream collage of ‘inyo county’ is “a little souvenir taking me back into the bottled-up essence of a slow lazy morning, waking up in bed far from home,” Hannah tells recalling those enforced stay-at-home days. “It fell out of me because I was craving that blissful flavour.” Meanwhile ‘dawn of the age of aquarius’s new parallel reality evolved from a happy accident when their demos had reset to a drone which Jason reworked into a Laurie Anderson-esque breathy vocoder effect. Even bloops and beeps from a forgotten recording session at the Vintage Synthesizer Museum in Emeryville can be heard, where the pair used Mini Moog, Fairlight EMI and ARP 2600 to arrange their sound into shapes whilst distortion and dirt from mixing on 1979 Neve 5313 Console added to the recordings’ color.
Casting a brighter rainbow still, in all its pastel-hued glory, Hannah, also illustrated a self-portrait of the band for the album artwork. “It reflects our makeshift recording studio to encapsulate all aspects of that time and space,” she shares of their abode where, over an intense two-week period and fuelled by the aroma of fermenting vino from the winery below, their single chord, bass and drum-heavy, groove-first momentum took them on an unexpected journey whilst the next-door couple would fire pizzas in their yard and a grandfather across the road would sweep the street clean. “We’d drink coffee and start the day, consistently working, without interruption,” Chris tells of finding their flow. “The loft is a cool space with skylights, tall ceilings and no shared walls so we could be as loud as we wanted to be.”
Just as well. Diving into decades of electronica and crunchy sound effects, field recordings and animal sounds, blended with an infectious Latin influence, shapes & colors is bolstered by live percussionists Greg Poneris (drums), K. Dylan Edrich (Vocals, Percussion: congas, bongos, chimes, cow bells and wood blocks, tone drum and tri-tone whistle) and Tom Smith (Guitar, Synthesizers, Vocals).
NIMBY crews grab those earplugs now. abracadabra is your new noisy neighbour, and there’s no turning this party down.

A Detroit resident, William Odell Hughes is a much-loved street educated singer-songwriter and music composer. As a regular passenger riding to work on the Detroit East Side bus route in the early eighties, he met jazz pianist Pamela Wise who also rode the bus to work every day and who he noticed was always reading music. Pamela told him about saxophonist, clarinetist, and producer Wendell Harrison (founder of the legendary Tribe collective and a regular collaborator of Pamela Wise). She introduced Odell to Wendell, who was impressed with William’s compositions and felt that it would be a great project for release on his WenHa record label.

Hughes and Harrison began producing and recording the album to be called “Cruisin”featuring musical arrangements by both Wendell Harrison and Pamela Wise. This album (released in 1981) was the first recording for Hughes and the beginning of a long musical journey that continues to this day. Cruisin’ features an all-star line-up that includes Andrew Gibson (The Counts), Pamela Wise (Tribe) and award-winning Detroit Jazz icon Wendell Harrison…all doing their bit and making this a monster of an album!

William Odell Hughes’ debut album has all the best characteristics of an 80s album: it’s filled with funky playful beats and has excellent soulful honey-dipped vocals. On Cruisin’ the listener is treated to both mellow soul sounds and electrifying disco boogie (that’ll make even the shyest of club goers want to get up and dance) and Wendell Harrison’s instantly recognizable flute-playing and synth pads give the record a warm, relaxed groove. Prepare yourself for funky vibes, cool soothing feet-tapping rhythms, fantastic interplays on vocal tempos…all backed by a beautiful array of soulful synthesized and cosmic music.

References to universal awareness are plentiful throughout and the spirituality of The Tribe remains a constant undertone; a gentle reminder of WenHa’s roots. With a sound like this, it’s no wonder that this album has long been considered a grail for crate diggers around the world. All of the above makes this incredible record both timeless and as relevant today as it was back when it was initially released.

Tidal Waves Music now proudly presents the first ever vinyl reissue of this rare funk & soul album (original copies go for large amounts on the second-hand market) originally released in 1981 on WenHa records. This unique record comes as a deluxe 180g vinyl edition (strictly limited to 500 copies worldwide) with obi strip. This vinyl edition also features the original photography by acclaimed British photographer Brian Smith known for his work with artists such as Screamin’ Jay Hawkins, Howlin’ Wolf, Chuck Berry and John Lee Hooker.

RED APPLE MARBLE VINYL REPRESS.

Everything changed for The Beths when they released their debut album, Future Me Hates Me, in 2018. The indie rock band had long been nurtured within Auckland, New Zealand’s tight-knit music scene, working full-time during the day and playing music with friends after hours. Full of uptempo pop rock songs with bright, indelible hooks, the LP garnered them critical acclaim from outlets like Pitchfork and Rolling Stone, and they set out for their first string of shows overseas. They quit their jobs, said goodbye to their home town, and devoted themselves entirely to performing across North America and Europe. They found themselves playing to crowds of devoted fans and opening for acts like Pixies and Death Cab for Cutie. Almost instantly, The Beths turned from a passion project into a full-time career in music.

Songwriter and lead vocalist Elizabeth Stokes worked on what would become The Beths’ second LP, Jump Rope Gazers, in between these intense periods of touring. Like the group’s earlier music, the album tackles themes of anxiety and self-doubt with effervescent power pop choruses and rousing backup vocals, zeroing in on the communality and catharsis that can come from sharing stressful situations with some of your best friends. Stokes’s writing on Jump Rope Gazers grapples with the uneasy proposition of leaving everything and everyone you know behind on another continent, chasing your dreams while struggling to stay close with loved ones back home.

"If you're at a certain age, all your friends scatter to the four winds,” Stokes says. “We did the same thing. When you're home, you miss everybody, and when you're away, you miss everybody. We were just missing people all the time.”

With songs like the rambunctious “Dying To Believe” and the tender, shoegazey “Out of Sight,” The Beths reckon with the distance that life necessarily drives between people over time. People who love each other inevitably fail each other. “I’m sorry for the way that I can’t hold conversations/They’re such a fragile thing to try to support the weight of,” Stokes sings on “Dying to Believe.” The best way to repair that failure, in The Beths’ view, is with abundant and unconditional love, no matter how far it has to travel. On “Out of Sight,” she pledges devotion to a dearly missed friend: “If your world collapses/I’ll be down in the rubble/I’d build you another,” she sings.

“It was a rough year in general, and I found myself saying the words, 'wish you were here, wish I was there,’ over and over again,” she says of the time period in which the album was written. Touring far from home, The Beths committed themselves to taking care of each other as they were trying at the same time to take care of friends living thousands of miles away. They encouraged each other to communicate whenever things got hard, and to pay forward acts of kindness whenever they could. That care and attention shines through on Jump Rope Gazers, where the quartet sounds more locked in than ever. Their most emotive and heartfelt work to date, Jump Rope Gazers stares down all the hard parts of living in communion with other people, even at a distance, while celebrating the ferocious joy that makes it all worth it -- a sentiment we need now more than ever.

We are excited to welcome French avant-garde metal duo WuW to our ever-expanding roster of for- ward-thinking artists. Inspired by classical music, free jazz and drone the two classically trained brothers Benjamin and Guillaume Colin have been creating lo-f experimental post-doom epics in the vein of Year of No Light, Dirge and Omega Massif since 2016. "WuW is the sound wind makes when it blows on a hot night," explains the band, "It's a low-end murmur that grabs you by the guts, a blast of air rushing through the mountains and the oceans." Their upcoming third album Orchaostre is an anthem to a restless journey, a fve-part doom symphony that creates a shroud of oppressive atmospheres with only a pinch of light. With their third studio album, WuW deliver a veritable post-metal odyssey, one that takes you on a journey through rhythm and texture and that lets your soul wallow in a soft shell of desolation. The marching rhythm of «Orchaostre 1» and the swaying rhythm with the slow chugging patterns of «Orchaostre 2» take you along on this intric- ate journey, slowly numbing the senses in the throes of repetition. Nevertheless, for those who manage to keep their eyes peeled on this descend into forgetfulness, there is a world of beauty and a spark of hope to be found. The atmosphere is thick, the mood is heavy, and across the slow rifs and funerary drumbeats, the wailing e-bow guitars and myriad of synthesisers evoke kafkaesque at- mospheres as well as strange poignant textures that inspire desolation. Evoking the work of early electronic music innovators, notably during the climactic fnale of «Orchaostre 1» but also halfway through «Orchaostre 3» WuW breed a sense of pristine beauty, like unadulterated nature. In fact, the beauty of Orchaostre feels so un- spoilt, so devoid of any human infuence, it becomes alien, resulting in a harrowing ex- perience of the exquisite in the eye of a hot and hazy storm. FOR FANS OF Russian Circles, Year of No Light, Dirge, Omega Massif, Neurosis, Telepathy, Celeste, Tangled Thoughts of Leaving Limited (100 copies ww) Single Colour Orchaostre 4 (Pink Vinyl) Edition!

Repress of Kaitlyn's solo debut Euclid (primarily written on a Buchla Music Easel synthesizer), it was inspired by her love of mbira music, early electronic music pioneers like Laurie Spiegel, Oskar Sala, and Terry Riley, and euclidian geometry. Each of the first six songs on Euclid were initially structured using euclidian geometry, an idea which Smith explored while attending a class at the San Francisco Conservatory. As Smith explains, "We each chose a 3D shape and assigned our own guidelines to the different components that make up the shape. For example each point of the shape represents a different time signature, each line between the points represents a pitch, each shape within the closed lines represents a scale, etc. And then you play the shape." Despite their heady geometric origins, the songs have a playfulness and warmth that makes them inviting and memorable. In addition to the buoyant grooves of Smith's synthesizers, some of the songs feature wordless vocals, which energize the otherworldly songs, while grounding them with Smith's earthly presence. She slows things down for the second half of the record, which features a collection of twelve short pieces, Labyrinths I-XII. Originally composed as new soundtracks to old silent films she found online, Smith says the tranquil Labyrinth pieces are "intended to feel like one is walking through a holographic labyrinth and encountering different experiences such as hang gliding, viewing microbes under a microscope, ice fishing in Alaska, and watching glaciers collapse." Despite their brevity, most of these songs feel like mini odysseys, effortlessly casting a cinematic hue on the the listener's world. Throughout Euclid Kaitlyn Aurelia Smith consistently delivers sonic puzzles draped in a warm Pacific mist. At times these songs feel so alive like the musical analog to roots growing deeper and stronger, leaves on branches bending towards the light, or the sun peeking over the horizon, briefly igniting the air with a primordial swirl of warm and cool colors.

Second Editions presents a new collaborative work by Marja Ahti and Judith Hamann.

After their distinguished duet ‘Portals’ for Cafe Oto's Takuroku label, ‘A coincidence is perfect, intimate attunement’ is a wonderful sophomore collaborative work pieced together over two years of changing seasons, ideas, moods, and feelings. The release is formed from a shifting field of sound correspondence that pivots on moments of coincidence, of a tuning in.

What are we opening ourselves to when we tune in to sound? How can one be truly open to a sound? How can the activity of recording move beyond notions of capture and release into more generative frames? Rather than a tool purposed for preservation or ‘conservation’ of memory, of time and place, can recording sound instead form new vibrant or vibratory spaces of attunement?

‘A coincidence..’ is an LP length composition of multiple interlocking parts, created through exchange, alignment, unpredictability: the title borrowed from poet Fanny Howe falling right into place, a flock of birds in flight, pitches matched and moved across different geographies and temporal frames. Marja & Judith have created an intuitive, lyrical longform piece that considers the idea of attunement itself as, in some sense, the smallest form of measure or denominator connecting their respective practices: across field recording, just intonation, electronic sonorities and instrumental bodies. ‘A coincidence..’ reflects a sense of a willingness to tune in to impulses given, or gifted to the other, a position that embraces an intimate synchronicity.

Recordings & correspondances between 2020-2022. Mixed by Marja Ahti & Judith Hamann. Mastered and cut by Anne Taegert at Dubplates & Mastering in Berlin, 2022. Title quotation from Night Philosophy by Fanny Howe, Divided Publishing, 2020. Photogrpahy by Joshua Bonnetta. Thanks to Nino Bulling, Niko-Matti Ahti and leo. The work was supported by Kone Foundation, Akademie Schloss Solitude and NEUSTART KULTUR.

Marja Ahti (b. 1981) is a Swedish-Finnish composer and sound artist based in Turku, Finland. Ahti works with field recordings and other acoustic sound material combined with synthesizers and electronic feedback in order to find the space where these sounds start to communicate. She makes music that rides on waves of slowly warping harmonies and mutating textures – rough edged, yet precise compositions, rich in detail. Ahti has presented her music in many different contexts around Europe, in Japan and the United States. She is currently active in the duo Ahti & Ahti with her partner Niko-Matti Ahti and in the artist/organizer collective Himera.

Judith Hamann is a cellist and performer/composer from Narrm/Melbourne in so-called Australia, currently based in Berlin. Their work encompasses performance, improvisation, electro-acoustic composition, field recording, electronics, site specific generative work, and micro-tonal systems in a deeply considered process based approach to creative practice. Currently Judith’s work is focused on an examination of expressions and manifestations of 'shaking’ in solo performance practice, a collection of works for cello and humming, as well as ongoing research surrounding ‘collapse’ as a generative imaginary surface, and the ‘de-mastering’ of bodies (human and non-human) in European settler-colonial heritage instrumental practice and pedagogy. Judith likes working with and thinking-with other artists which sometimes includes people like Joshua Bonnetta, Dennis Cooper, Charles Curtis, Golden Fur (with James Rushford and Sam Dunscombe), Lori Goldston, the Harmonic Space Orchestra, Sarah Hennies, Yvette Janine Jackson, and Anike Joyce Sadiq.

Deca’s streak of entrancing releases continues with Smoking Gun, an album that deftly blends psychedelic, raw production with sharp insights and clever lyricism. But it’s also much more than that. Smoking Gun is a sonic representation of an artist grappling with living in America, a country with a network of broken systems that leaves Deca questioning when and if it may turn around. To say this all makes for a compelling listen would be a vast understatement, because the New York City-based rapper/producer knows the key to presenting this material. He does it in a way that’s both refreshing and new, but never isolating or simply too oddball. There’s a left-field quality to his work, but Deca knows exactly what he’s doing. To prove that point, he enlisted fellow outside-the-box thinkers like Blu and Homeboy Sandman to appear on some of the album’s standout cuts. “Shelter,” which features Blu, is a jazzy, dusty piece of thoughtful hip-hop with crazy flows and lyrics to match. It’s so good you’ll wish these two would record an entire project together, and the same goes for Boy Sand’s appearance on “Dawn Wind.” Backed by Deca’s own low-key funky production, both he and Homeboy Sandman go verse for verse, each offering their own take on how to liberate yourself from the machine that aims to surveil and control both our outer world and inner peace. Other tracks embody a similar energy, including the justifiably cynical “St. America (feat. DJ Stan Solo)” and stunning “Tuning.” The latter track may just be the most impressive piece on Smoking Gun, thanks in part to the mind-melting beat-switch. It’s a thrilling musical journey that furthers Deca’s narrative about mankind’s ethical plight, and the problems we collectively face. TRACKLIST: 1. Smoking Gun (Intro) 2. St. America (feat. DJ Stan Solo) 3. Tuning 4. Blight 5. Flight Path (feat. Ichiban, DJ AWHAT!) 6. Hive of Industry 7. Crab Apples 8. Shelter (feat. Blu) 9. Tunnel Under 10. Dawn Wind (feat. Homeboy Sandman) 11. War Heads 12. The Eagle's Descent

“Home” is a tough thing to pinpoint for someone who’s constantly in motion. Scout Gillett knows this well, but since relocating from Kansas City in 2017, she’s found one in Brooklyn’s DIY scene, playing in multiple live bands and even starting her own booking company to organize local shows. Her intrepid nature results from a childhood spent running barefoot through rural Missouri and coming of age in Kansas City’s punk scene. Her debut solo album no roof no floor is a bold and spirited yet warm, intimate meditation on trust, surrender, and what makes a home.

Following the sudden overdose of a lover in 2018 and the onset of the 2020 quarantine, Scout returned to Missouri in search of reprieve. Instead, she was dismayed to find that her hometown was suffering; friends and family members were caught in the grips of drug and alcohol addiction. Overcome by grief and helplessness, she retreated inward, channeling her fears and frustrations, as she always had, into songwriting. The resulting songs were more vulnerable than any of her prior work

The combination of big riffs, driving rhythms, thick yet lithe bass lines and rich vocal melodies has made for some of the greatest music of all time, and in the hands of Kings Of Mercia this recipe is intoxicating. Best known as the founding guitarist for Fates Warning, Jim Matheos is incapable of stifling his creativity. In early 2021, he started working on the songs that would become Kings Of Mercia’s self-titled debut album, bringing his distinct style yet doing something a little different. Churning out songs, Matheos’ next concern was to find the musicians who would help him realize the material, and his first priority was a vocalist. Enter FM vocalist Steve Overland. The combination of Matheos’ riffs and Overland’s vocals makes for perfect bedfellows. Behind the kit for the record is the legendary Simon Phillips (ex-Toto, Derek Sherinian), one of Matheos’ favorite drummers. Rounding out the group is bassist Joey Vera - Matheos’ Fates Warning bandmate - who brings his trademark style and professionalism to the table. With these players involved it was an easy, stress-free process throughout, making music for the love of it, and coming up with something that sounds familiar yet new, expanding the repertoire of all involved. This means songs like the half-acoustic ballad, half-swaggering “Too Far Gone” or the beautiful “Everyday Angels”, and the soaring “Wrecking Ball”, which opens the record on a high note, all brought to life in dynamic style. The hardest part of the whole process was coming up with a name for the band. It made sense to self-title the record due to it being the band’s debut, and given how much life there is in the songs it would not be surprising if it did not become the first of many, the combination of those involved creating something special, and with Matheos’ permanent creative hunger you may well be hearing a lot more from Kings Of Mercia.

The Blackploid resurgence of recent years continues to gather steam. After laying dormant for some time, Martin Matiske's project roared back into life in 2021 with a pair of EPs for Central Processing Unit. It doesn't look like he'll be taking his foot off the gas any time soon - not only does the new Blackploid collectionPlanetary Sciencecomplete Matiske's hat-trick for the Sheffield label, but it also serves as a prelude to the full-length album which Blackploid will deliver on CPU in 2023.

If that LP is as good as the tracks we get here, then it's safe to say that we're on to a winner. This EP contains a quartet of top-tier machine-funk productions, the kind of crisp post-Drexciya joints we've come to know and love Blackploid for. Each track onPlanetary Sciencemakes good on the record's title by delivering club tackle flecked with FX which sound distinctly like spaceships blasting off into the cosmos.

There is also progression acrossPlanetary Science. While it still aims for the dancefloor,Planetary Scienceis a somewhat more textured listen than eitherStrange StarsorCosmic Traveler, Blackploid's previous CPU drops. Most notable is the increased use of synth pads, with Matiske draping chord progressions over all of these tracks in order to give his music a newfound depth.

Blackploid's subtle evolution is clear from the opening track. 'Dimension Unknown' may begin with a precision-engineered groove reminiscent of an early Legowelt joint, but things soon soften with the introduction of some rich keyboard chords. A few well-chosen bleeps and bloops flit in and out of the mix, but whereas some would use these to scuff up the track further here they are warm and playful.

The more confrontational stance of following cut 'Magnetron' makes it a yin to 'Dimension Unknown's yang. Blackploid works with similar tools here - machine-gun beat programming, chords playing off boinging bass - but there is a tension and buzz to the track which isn't apparent on its predecessor. The synths have a slight Eighties deep space thriller vibe about them, and the FX cut through the mix with more bite.

'Magnetron's energy carries through to 'Wire', the first track on thePlanetary ScienceB-side. Here a big, brutish bassline takes centre stage from the off, a chunk squarewave equal-parts Dopplereffekt and early Eskibeat. Around this swirls a queasy brew of synthesised tones, with the component parts all arranged in order to channel 'Magnetron's sense of unease.

Planetary Sciencecloses out with 'Neurotransmitter'. On this cut, Blackploid returns somewhat to where we started off, finding a midpoint between 'Dimension Unknown's more spacious feel and the livewire flavour of 'Magnetron' and 'Wire'. Tension remains, particularly when Matiske serves up one of the EP's snakiest basslines, but there's also a deftness to the synth pads here which makes 'Neurotransmitter' a little softer around the edges.

Blackploid limbers up for a forthcoming full-length on Central Processing Unit withPlanetary Science, an EP of stargazing electro joints that quietly expand the project's sonic world.

RIYL:Drexciya, Dopplereffekt, DMX Krew, I-F, Annie Hall

It’s common knowledge that KOMPAKT’s TOTAL series serves as our yearbook, a musical wrap up of the past 12 months. Therefore it doesn’t come as a surprise that this year’s edition is informed by another pandemic year, where dancefloors were still mostly deserted and the devastating developments in Eastern Europe. Kompakt’s A&R team still kept on foot on the imaginary dancefloor, while scouting different realms apart from the big room euphoria. Anyway, brain dance has always been a key ingredient to our catalogue.

The Voigt brothers are opening this years vinyl edition in an unusually romantic fashion. ‘Why’ combines a bubbly FM bassline with lush washes of looped guitars. High off the (presumably high) heels of her recent album ‘Jesus Was An Alien’ she delivers a spanking new excursion into her sonic world, ‘The Hill’. Our Mexican friend Rebolledo makes his first ever solo appearance on TOTAL with his trademark hypnotic desert sound. Jürgen Paape is calling a spade a spade with ‘Le Monde À Changé’ – The world has changed indeed. Our prodigal son, Matias Aguayo, returns to the mothership with ‘Cinco Y Rojo’. An exercise in Chicago-esque groove theory paired with a cheeky visitor from Denmark. Spot the reference and win a pair of hooves. It’s hard to find a quality party around Cologne without Jonathan Kaspar on its bill. Rightly so, as he continues to hone his craft as an impeccable DJ and producer. Michael gives the tremendously talented Danish singer songwriter eee gee a proper Mayer treatment and Kompakt founding member Jörg Burger closes off the festivities with a groovy midtempo chugger that reminisces ‘Blue Lines’ era Massive Attack as much as the late Andy Weatheralls low slung psychedelia.

Es ist allgemein bekannt, dass die TOTAL Reihe eine jährliche Positionsbestimmung des Kölner Labels KOMPAKT darstellt und der Jahrbuch-hafte Charakter war ja auch immer beabsichtigt. So wundert es wenig, dass man TOTAL 22 die Irrungen und Wirrungen des zweiten pandemischen Jahres 2022 deutlich anhört. Die A&R Abteilung des Labels hatte zwar – trotz geschlossener Clubs – weiter mindestens einen Fuss auf dem imaginären Tanzboden, aber man spürt, dass es ein eher verhaltener Jahrgang geworden ist. Dance Tracks brauchen einen entsprechenden Resonanzraum – und der war zumindest bis zur Deadline dieser Platte kaum gegeben. Aber Kopfdisco gehörte schon immer zum kompakten Repertoire. Letztlich entsteht in diesem vom Big Room los gekoppelten Bereich meist die interessanteste Musik.

Die Gebrüder Voigt eröffnen TOTAL 22 auf einer unerwartet romantischen Note. Quirlige FM Bässe schmiegen sich an verhuschte Gitarrenloops, so dass es eine wahre Freude ist. Perel hat gerade ihr fulminantes Album “Jesus Was An Alien” abgeliefert und spurtet bereits mit Siebenmeilenstiefeln (oder vielleicht auch Pumps?) zum nächsten Ziel: ‘The Hills’. Unser mexikanischer Freund Rebolledo ist erstmals solo auf einer TOTAL zu finden und beschwört mit ‘The Sharper Image’ seinen hypnotischen Prärie Sound herauf. Jürgen Paape nennt das Kind direkt beim Namen: Le monde a changé… Die Welt hat sich verändert – ein Kommentar zum Zeitgeschehen, der keiner Erklärung bedarf. Nach längerer Abstinenz hat Matias Aguayo wieder am Mutterschiff angedockt. ‘Cinco Y Rojo’ ist ein Lehrstück in Sachen Chicago-esquen Grooves, kombiniert mit einem frechen Besucher aus dem Dänemark der 80er. Findet die Referenz und gewinnt ein paar nagelneuer Hufen. Es ist derzeit schwer eine qualitativ hochwertige Party im Rheinland zu finden, auf der Jonathan Kaspar nicht spielt. Zurecht, denn er schärft seine Skills als DJ und Produzent wie ein Sushi Chef sein Messer. Michael Mayer dreht die überaus talentierte Singer Songwriterin eee gee auf links und überlässt seinem Weggefährten Jörg Burger das letzte Wort. "Crawling Up That Hill’ ist ein slicker Midtempo Groover, der in seiner behutsamen Psychedelik irgendwo zwischen Massive Attack in der ‘Blue Lines’ Epoche und Andy Weatherall changiert.

Clear Vinyl



An album such as this obviously owes a lot to the atmosphere in which it was recorded, which we can imagine was magical. We know it took place in Fromentel, Normandy, in a farm converted into a studio by the producer Jacques Denjean, known for his work with Dionne Warwick or Françoise Hardy as well as having been a member of the Double Six. It was also at Fromentel, that Denjean would record two fantastic albums with Albert Marcoeur. When Emmanuelle Parrenin followed in his footsteps a year later she was in good company: the sound engineer at the studio was her partner and therefore uniquely capable (we imagine) of creating an adequate soundscape for her delicate universe. What is more, five years previously, Bruno Menny, the sound engineer partner, recorded his first and only album, but what an album: in electroacoustic terms we can hear things which make him appear as the spiritual son of his mentor Iannis Xenakis!

What makes Maison Rose unique is exactly this fusion between the two conceptions of Emmanuelle Parrenin and Bruno Menny, creating a perfect marriage of tradition and experimentation. The tradition comes from the songs collected by Emmanuelle Parrenin in rural areas, in a similar vein to the work carried out by Alan Lomax and Shirley Collins. The experimentation is in the sound captured by Bruno Menny, who both arranged and recorded the album. This is not to forget those who came with their guitar (Denis Gasser), or their lyrics (no less a figure than Jean-Claude Vannier). On the one hand we have the humble and non-demonstrative singing, with melodies which remind us of songs we would sing to calm a child's nightmares, and on the other hand a pronounced rhythmic intensity at certain points, such as on "Topaze" where the drums in particular evoke the Motorik of krautrock legends Faust.

A real haven of peace, Maison Rose is enchanting with its aura of mystery and spirituality, with soft, gentle songs which seem both ancestral and futurist. Originally published by Ballon Noir in 1977, this album follows on from other folk marvels such as Le Galant Noyé from the pre-Mélusine period. On the subject of Maison Rose, if we had to risk a few comparisons we would mention Vashti Bunyan, Linda Perhacs, Joanna Newsom, Collie Ryan, Shirley Collins, Trees Community, Sourdeline and Véronique Chalot as those which spring spontaneously to mind. But this is too reductive for the timeless singularity of Emmanuelle Parrenin: because Maison Rose was recorded in 1977, in the midst of the punk revolution.

Limited to: 300 copies.

Lera Lynn blurs the boundaries between genres, carving out a sound inspired by art-pop, indie-folk and the outer edges of American roots music. She’s a singer. She’s a songwriter. She’s a road warrior. She’s a multi-instrumentalist and producer. She’s a mother.

Texas born, Nashville resident Lera Lynn is just as comfortable creating an album entirely by herself, as she is collaborating with her heroes. In 2018, she worked with T Bone Burnett and Rosanne Cash on tracks that were not only picked up by the TV show True Detective, but Lynn was cast as a recurring character who performs in a dive bar frequented by the main characters.

However, nothing could have prepared Lynn for the lessons learned during motherhood. She welcomed her first son during the early months of the pandemic and began writing down her insights, chronicling this newfound experience of shifting priorities, strange endings, and new beginnings. Inside, she was battling postpartum depression. Outside, a bigger picture began taking shape: a feeling of interconnectedness, of cyclic renewal, of the knowledge that every beginning is an end and every end is a beginning. Those realizations coalesced into Something More Than Love, a record filled with synthesizers, lush soundscapes, the pop-noire punch of Lynn's voice, and the most dynamic melodies of her career.

Inspired by the cyclical patterns that shape our place in the world, Something More Than Love was co-produced and largely performed by Lynn and her partner, Todd Lombardo (Kacey Musgraves/Donovan Woods/Kathleen Edwards). They'd met years earlier, not long after Lynn relocated to Nashville from her college town (and musical launchpad) of Athens, Georgia. "My first time ever co-writing a song was in Nashville with Todd," she says of the ACM-nominated multi-instrumentalist. The two became fast friends and, eventually, partners; their creative chemistry giving way to romance and a growing family. That partnership reached a new milestone in 2021, with the newfound parents sharpening their creative instincts and expanding their palette for Lynn's sixth album.

"A lot of people were making records during the pandemic," Lynn notes, "and all they had was time. But it was the opposite experience for us. We created this whole record while still in the fog of early parenthood, and we didn't have the luxury of waiting for lightning to strike. We had to be focused and intentional."

Striking a balance between intimate self-reflection and universal insight, Something More Than Love poses big questions over even bigger-sounding music, with tempos and layered arrangements that find Lynn at her most dynamic. Illusion opens the album with spacey synthesizers before snapping into a taut, 1980s-influenced groove, combing reverb and rhythm into a song that swoons one minute and struts the next. I'm Your Kamikaze — a deconstructed burst of indie garage-rock, heavy on melody and percussive pulse — unfolds like a salute to self-sacrifice, with Lynn dedicating her own existence to ensuring her child's flourishing. What Is This Body? finds her reassessing her ideas of physical identity and womanhood, while the album's gorgeous title track makes room for slow-burn strings and a meteoric chorus.

Together, those songs turn Lera Lynn's experience with absolute surrender — surrendering oneself to the trials and triumphs of motherhood — into a universal record about the experiences that bind us together. This isn't just Lynn's story. It's the story of a life cycle that repeats itself over and over, every termination point becoming a starting line, every death matched by a rebirth, every edge giving way to the circular slope of the ouroboros.

Are you still here? Or are you still there? Berlin-based/Italian warehouse-rave warrior, Younger Than Me, and Italo-American romantic goth-wave prince, Curses are THERE. They're there where it's at!

It was the bond of bold friendship that brought these guys together - and of course a shared history of subgenre juxtaposition and meshing. Both grew up on Punk, Rap, and of course the early days of Techno. »Still There« is their first EP together and thus of course their first for Live At Robert Johnson. It's a venture into the euphoric, psychedelic power of early Trance and Breaks mixed with the attitude and energy of EBM and Electro.

Starting with the moody slow beats of the title tune »Still There«, Y2C takes you on a journey to a faraway chill-out room in some dark yet warm and cozy cellar. Or is this place to be found in synth heaven? It could well be if you listen to those dreamy melodies. Melodies as beguiling as the song of the Sirens that seduced good old Ulysses.

Y2C pick up on that dreamy vibe but throw in that slight and subtle Trance-factor, taking up speed with »Romantic Squat«, dragging you into their very own romantic squat.

Next up is »Love Your Enemy« - oh yes, shouldn't we all? Icey claps with lots of reverb and a bass line draw you onto the dry ice flooded aluminum floor and there's no way back - especially when that strange break with that crazy sound makes you stop for a second and think, why did I stop dancing? Get back on the floor y'all!

The last track »Lullapaluza« is indeed some kind of a lollapalooza ride, a very special ride. And no, it does not lull you to sleep because the beat created by Y2C here is a demanding one, a special which gets you going all over its eight and a half minutes. It's sheer bliss, you gotta believe it.

This is not a one-off novelty EP, it's a kinetic collaboration. Y2C is a force of nature, a force of RAVE/WAVE energy, with many more to come, a force to reckon with.

Sub Pop debut by accomplished Greek artist Σtella, produced by Redinho (Swet Shop Boys).
‘Up And Away’ is an eclectic, compelling modern pop album showcasing Σtella’s skilled songwriting and the influence of classic love songs, Greek folk, and contemporary electronic-music production.

Σtella makes her Sub Pop debut with the mesmerizing ‘Up And Away’, an oldschool pop paean to the pangs and raptures of love. From the Greek folkinflected get-go, we’re swept up in Σtella’s world - and it’s quite the captivating place to be.

The singer songwriter joined forces with artist and producer Tom Calvert (aka Redinho), and it was a match made in Athens; the results are heavenly. Tom caught one of Σtella’s gigs on a visit to the city. He reached out, they started hanging out, and the pair soon clicked creatively. Both mention chemistry when asked about their collaboration and it’s clear, from what we hear, they had it in spades. The meld is seamless.

Σtella’s songs have always riffed on American and Greek mid-century pop but ‘Up And Away’ doubles down on the vintage aesthetic. Tom says he styled the record “as if it was a rare gem from the ’60s found in a box of records in Athens,” and Σtella notes she was ready for a more “deeply Greek touch - it felt comfortable and right, smoothly fusing with the pop.” The bouzouki appears on a full five tracks played by Christos Skondras who, she says, “was brilliant at improvising,” while Sofia Labropoulou on the kanun “brought an insane amount of dreaminess to the last two songs. Having these amazing musicians play for ‘Up And Away’ - I couldn’t be more grateful.”

While not exclusively a confessional artist, Σtella is always intimate - when she sings, it’s personal. She writes “about things I feel passion for. Stories about me, about others, about all that’s there in love and war.” Σtella was “in a very emotional state at the time, which came through in the lyrics and vocals.” And it’s true, her honeyed voice - layered in those unmistakable harmonies of hers - thrillingly runs the gamut from tender to terse, by turns bracing and smitten, aching and forlorn. But it’s the lyrics that feel key. Across her output, Σtella has proven herself a strong storyteller, and ‘Up And Away’ is no exception (the guise of the medieval bard she assumes on the cover is telling). Past releases have been studded with gem-like vignettes - a diverse array of stories set tightly together to form non-linear narratives unified by emotion. Her latest feels singular in that it seems to trace a longer-form tale across songs, with each track escalating the record’s erotic arc.

By the end of the album, ‘Up And Away’s core concerns are clear: the conflicting and conflicted emotions inherent in love, that live on in ways we can’t always understand or control. Love is like this record: when it’s over, you still feel it for time to come.
Loser Edition LP pressed on blue vinyl.

Naomi Alligator is fed up. She’s sick of trying to make relationships work that have already run their course, and tired of sitting in a wintry apartment waiting for her life to kick into gear. On »Double Knot«, the modern folk singer/songwriter from Virginia attempts to unwind her life from all that is holding her back. In a way, it’s a coming-of-age record about shedding what no longer serves you and, ultimately, finding something like deliverance.

On the opening track, “Seasick,” Naomi Alligator is already in the midst of a sort of awakening. Right off the bat, she sings, “I don’t know what’s happened to me / It’s like I turned 16 / It’s like I grew to be 6-feet tall.” This is the announcement of a wide-eyed artist coming out of hibernation and into their own. Still, Naomi’s vocals ache with guilt and longing, belying the track’s playful catchiness. Longing for what? Maybe attention from a crush, but mostly a sunnier place to call home.

Naomi Alligator began writing Double Knot while living in Philadelphia during the height of the pandemic and the deterioration of a longterm romance. “I scream: How’d the hell I end up here? / I’m 1-inch tall, it’s crystal clear,” she chants on “Neighborhood Freak,” returning to height and size as an emotional barometer. When asked though, Naomi rejects the notion that Double Knot is a breakup album, or autobiographical at all. Moreso, she says, it’s a personal reckoning in which, “the minute before you make a big decision, you tally up the reasons why you don’t want to do what you’re doing anymore.”

That desire to turn the page expands to the production of the album as well. Naomi Alligator generally houses her narratives in beds of minimal, home-tracked instrumentation—influenced by the stripped-down poeticism of Joan Baez and Liz Phair’s Girly-Sound tapes. Double Knot finds Naomi continuing to hone the winning combination of guitar and banjo she established on 2021’s Concession Stand Girl EP. For Double Knot though, Naomi wanted a fuller, more dynamic sound: more instruments, more harmonies, more layering, more, more, more. Inspired by the impressionistic melodies of Animal Collective and MGMT, Naomi peppers in computer-generated synths throughout the album, most notably on the song “Burn Out.” These electronic flourishes augment the more grounding string instruments, arriving somewhere more ethereal than Naomi’s earlier work while still maintaining her warm songwriting.

If anything, Double Knot is a reminder that you can always pack up your bags, try something new, and change your life. As for Naomi Alligator herself? She moved west, to California.

Felicia Atkinson’s music always puts the listener somewhere in particular. There are two categories of place that are important to »Image Langage«: the house and the landscape. Inside and outside, different ways of orienting a body towards the world. They are in dialogue, insofar as in the places Atkinson made this record—Leman Lake, during a residency at La Becque in Switzerland, and at her home on the wild coast of Normandy—the landscape is what is waiting for you when you leave the house, and vice-versa. Each threatens—or is it offers, kindly, even promises? —to dissolve the other. Recognizing the normalization of home studios these days, she revisited twentieth-century women artists who variously chose, and were chosen by, their homes as a place to work: the desert retreats of Agnes Martin and Georgia O’Keefe, the life and death of Sylvia Plath. Building a record is like building a house: a structure in which one can encounter oneself, each room a song with its own function in the project of everyday life.

At times listening to »Image Langage« is immediate, something like visiting a house by the sea, sharing the same ground, being invited to witness Atkinson’s acts of seeing, hearing, and reading in a sonic double of the places they occurred. In an aching moment of clarity in »The Lake is Speaking,« a pair of voices emerge out of the primordial murk of piano and organ, accompanying the listener to the edge of a reflective pool that makes a mirror of the cosmos. "I open my feet to fresh dirt, and the wet grass. I hold your hand. You hold his hand. In the distance without any distance. The comets, the stars." At other times, listening to »Image Langage« is more like being in a theatre, the composition a tangle of flickering forms and media that illuminate as best they can the darkness from which we experience it. On »Pieces of Sylvia,« a noirish orchestra drones and clatters beneath and around a montage of vocal images, stretching the listener across time, space, subjectivities. Atkinson says that "Image Langage" is like the fake title of a fake Godard film. There is indeed something cinematic about Atkinson’s work—not cinematic in the sense that it sounds like the score for someone else’s film, but cinematic in the sense that it produces its own images and langage and narratives, a kind of deliberate, dimensional world-building in sound.

»Image Langage« is built from instruments recorded as if field recordings, sound-images of instruments conjured from a keyboard, instruments Atkinson treats like characters, what she calls “a fantasy of an orchestra that doesn’t exist.” And then, speaking of Godard, there are the monologues, operating as both experimental-cinematic device and a literary style of narration. Voice can be a writerly anchor or a wisp of a textural presence. Atkinson’s capacious and slippery speech plunges into and out of the compositional depths, shifting shapes, channelling the voices of any number of beings, subjectivities, or elements of her surroundings—not unlike her midi keyboard, able to speak as a vast array of instruments.

»Image Langage« is an environmental record, in the vastest sense of the world. It is about getting lost in places imagined and real; it registers, too, the dizzying feeling of moving between such sites. It puts forth a concept of self that is hopelessly entangled with the rest of the world, born of both the ache of distance and the warmth of proximity.

For Félicia Atkinson, human voices inhabit an ecology alongside and within many other things that don’t speak, in the conventional sense: landscapes, images, books, memories, ideas. The French electro-acoustic composer and visual artist makes music that animates these other possible voices in conversation with her own, collaging field recording, MIDI instrumentation, and snippets of essayistic langage in both French and English. Her own voice, always shifting to make space, might whisper from the corner or assume another character’s tone. Atkinson uses composing as a way to process imaginative and creative life, frequently engaging with the work of visual artists, filmmakers, and novelists. Her layered compositions tell stories that alternately stretch and fold time and place, stories in which she is the narrator but not the protagonist.

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.

A Collection of Sounds from the Studio Eksperymentalne Polskiego Radia (1959-2001)
Art by Zofia Kulik

"Would it sound just as bad if you played it backwards?" assembles a collection of audio experiments created at the Polish Radio Experimental Studio (PRES) from 1959 to the beginning of the millennium. These exceptional works are presented alongside images from the Polish artist Zofia Kulik, whose career reached its apogee between the late 1960s and early 70s. While PRES and Kulik remain important artifacts in the recent history of the Polish avant-garde, presenting them together in one release may not seem like an obvious choice. There are, of course, some historical intersections-he most notable being a shared interest in Polish artist and architectOskar Hansen's Open Form theory. Open Form promoted a modular theory of architecture that became a tool adapted by its users and inhabitants to ??????????????..Hansen's ideas influenced Kulik's early works and also manifested in the PRES's iconic "black room", a music studio designed by Hansen, himself, which was equipped with moveable sound panels that absorbed or reflected sounds to promote a greater, creative freedom from its users. And yet, as it usually goes, the most obvious connections are usually the most deceitful. Whereas Kulik initially followed Open Form, she later turned away from it. And as for the black room-it mostly worked in theory but not in practice. What is it then that makes the two work together?

Polish Radio Experimental Studio - PRES (Polish: Studio Eksperymentalne Polskiego Radia) was an experimental music studio in Warsaw, where electronic and utility pieces were recorded. The establishment of the Polish Radio Experimental Studio was conceived by W?odzimierz Sokorski, head of the Radio and Television Committee. Between 1952 and 1956 he was a Minister of Culture, and as a strong supporter of socialist realism he fought against any manifestations of modernity in music. The Polish Radio Experimental Studio was founded on the 15th of November 1957,1 but only in the second half of the following year was it adapted for sound production.23 It operated until 2004.4
Until 1985, for 28 years the studio was headed by its founder - Józef Patkowski - musicologist, acoustician, and the chairman of the Polish Composers' Union. The second most important person in the Studio was Krzysztof Szlifirski, an electro-acoustics engineer. Before founding the studio Józef Patkowski visited similar hubs in Cologne, Paris, Gravesono and Milan.5 Though the studio was a place where autonomous electronic pieces were recorded, this wasn't its main purpose. It was launched as a space for the creation of independent compositions, sounds illustrations for radio dramas, and soundtracks for theatre, film and dance.

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Extraordinary musical talent returns with a deeply textured third outing on Blu Mar Ten Music.

Having made serious waves with the release of his debut album "Coeur Calme" in 2014 and the incredible 2016 follow up album "Zawadi", Kimyan Law steers his sound in a darker, more introspective direction with the twelve heavily themed set-pieces of his new album, "Yonda".

The album title, "Yonda", homophonically flits between a location in Kimyan Law's native Congo and definitions of something situated at a distance but still visible, foreshadowing the artist's move away from his typical uplifting palette into less playful territory.

While previous work seemed to be a personal exploration of joy-tinged melancholy, "Yonda", feels much more sober and pensive, infected with external events. In conversation with Kimyan Law the artist described one piece ("Krieg") as his "portrait of war", with the music moving through phases of violence, silence, panic, redemption and peace. Ever the allegorist, Kimyan Law relates themes of conflict and war not just to obvious geopolitics but also to his own physical struggles, and even an obsessive battle with the music itself, ("Yonda" has been more than three years in the making). In 2017 the artist wrote, "I've reached a point where I couldn't sleep because it bothered me so much... I have found myself unable to make any music except for Krieg".

An accomplished drummer in his own right, Kimyan Law's intricate rhythmic sensibility is the lifeblood that runs throughout the album, incorporating ever more outlandish sources of percussion recorded from his natural surroundings and filtered through technology.

"Yonda's opener, "Jaardin", is deceptively gentle, with off-kilter rhythms and pianos providing fertile ground for Elyn's delicate singing before the whole piece careens off into what can only be described as orchestral proto-jungle territory. It soon becomes apparent that this placid introduction is misleading, with subsequent tracks fluctuating between pounding tribal beats ("Arboreal Epitone" / "Kin"), chilling orchestration ("Byo" / "Krieg") and rehabilitated jungle forms ("Seven Ant Foley"). A constant mix of light and dark, futuristic yet primitive atmosphere hangs over the album, with waves of luscious synths and deeply musical string arrangements lovingly cloaked over the razor-sharp drum work.

Unusual conceptual themes litter "Yonda"; "Dor Rhythm" is about a Dung Beetle's journey, "Lampion" is about paper lanterns, "Nova" is about plant growth while "Kilele" is a song about peace, featuring Kimyan Law's own vocals in a new language he created himself, conjuring memories of Cocteau Twin's Liz Fraser.

While "Yonda" contains moments of incontestable beauty it can often be a difficult listen, an illustration of an anxious mind yearning for peace. An obsessive and intricate musician, Kimyan Law's use of African percussion, finely honed polyrhythmic patterns and celestial sprinklings of keys melded with slabs of sub-bass power and sheer energy makes for an intoxicating listen. As ever, Kimyan Law has delivered a profoundly serious piece of work that expands the vocabulary of his genre. Despite the darkness saturating the work, a soft light still breaks through the window. It is the east, and Kimyan Law is the sun.

Danish singer-songwriter Soren Munk releases his debut solo album Purr Show on 15 April 2022 via Navarino Records.Soren also travels the world as a cameraman for Channel 4 News, and the album was written and recorded in between trips to cover some of the major global events of recent times, from the war in Mali to the Taliban resurgence in Afghanistan

Soren also co- wrote the much- loved theme tune to the hit animated TV series Charlie and Lola – which is currently trending on TikTok with millions of views.Despite the nature of his news work, the songwriting on Purr Show has a more private focus, dealing in intimate but ambiguous moments of love and loss.

Melodic and intense, the album has elements of Dream Pop, Slowcore and classic songwriting, while the blend of electric guitars, analogue synths and vocals draws on the work of artists that combine restraint and power, such as Neil Young, Low, Big Star and Elliot Smith. Soren worked with Andy Ramsay from Stereolab to record the album, and Jimmie Robertson (Depeche Mode, Arctic Monkeys) during the mixing Soren explains, “I wanted to create slow pop songs. Romantic and melodic but with an edge of strangeness that makes them harder to pin down. That's the music I respond to – things that are assertive but fragile at the same time. Where every element counts.”Soren drew together a strong lineup of musicians and collaborators, including guitarists Garo Nahoulakian (Emiliana Torrini, Gaz Coombes, Piney Gir) and Nick 'Growler' Fowler (Gaz Coombes, Luke Haines); a Danish rhythm section of drummer Nikolaj Bjerre (Lamb) and bassist Andreas Jensen (Dub Pistols); and
pianist Tom Dyson (co-writer of the Charlie and Lola theme). Soren's vocals are often combined on the songs with the soft alto of backing singer Emma Faulkner, creating a sense of something confidential, like snatches of pillow talk.

In Spring 2021, Mike Paradinas (µ-Ziq and the owner of Planet Mu) spoke to long time friend and past label signing Hannah Davidson (Mrs Jynx) about the therapeutic power of writing music when times are tough. Both had recently been dealing with the loss of a parent due to cancer, and fresh from writing Scurlage, Paradinas suggested a collaboration. “I’ve always thought Hannah’s melodic sensibilities chime well with my own," says Paradinas, "and I've wanted to collaborate with her for a long time, since her 2010 album 'Shark Carousel' in fact, because she'd written some melodies that I wish I had.” In a matter of weeks the two collaborated online, sending stems back and forth, each encouraging the other and fitting perfectly together. “After about ten days we had ten tracks we were happy with." adds Davidson, "It was exciting to hear what Mike would do with the stems I sent, and equally exciting to see what he thought of my additions to his stems.” Overall the result is an opus of deeply personal moments of grief, depicted in a feeling of serene, misty tranquility that makes it easy to get lost in. Davidson and Paradinas settled on the title 'Secret Garden' due to the melodic vista which unexpectedly opened up before them on the final track. The album truly is a melodic exploration that is so often missed in this genre. There are twists and turns in mood, from the pastoral loveliness of 'Jynxiq' and 'Unheard Melodies' which fall away to the dubby beats of 'Hi Jynx'; the sadness of 'Loss' leading into the beatless forlorn 'The Ballad of Darth Vader. The album ups the pace with the muffled kicks and warm atmosphere of 'Afternoon Sunshine', which sets the tone for the happier mood of the second half. This all leads up to the album's denoeument in final track 'Secret Garden' whose naïve meandering synth melodies, orchestral accompaniment and glockenspiel end the album in happy resolution.

Available for the first time on vinyl, celebrated blues, R&B and Americana vocal powerhouse blazes an exhilarating roots music trail, with many of the songs reflecting the spirit of our turbulent times
Produced by Will Kimbrough, it features guest performances and/or songwriting by Kimbrough, Jason Isbell, Christone "Kingfish" Ingram, Jerry Douglas, Sam Bush, Orphan Brigade, Steve Cropper, Duane Eddy and Shawn Mullins.

Nominated for 2022 Grammy for Best Contemporary Blues Album.Winner of Blues Music Award for Contemporary Blues Album Of The Year.

Heiko Voss has earned near mythical status as a torchbearer for the emotional, deeply felt and quietly radical style of electronic music. The blissed-out radiance of his Kompakt Pop single, “I Think About You” remains one of the label catalog highlights and a stellar run of collaborative singles as Schaeben & Voss; others might know him for his stewardship of the excellent, much-underrated Firm imprint. But with his new album, 3:30 Minutes To Live, released by Michael Mayer’s label Imara, Voss returns after a long silence with a beautiful collection of songs that hymn heartbreak with a lusciously melodic touch.

There is something definitive and newly confident in 3:30 Minutes To Live that has it feeling like a real statement of intent if compared to his earlier releases. “Although it’s not, 3:30 Minutes To Live feels like my debut album,” Voss reflects. “All releases before were more song sketches or electronic dance tracks.” Bunkering down in Teary Eyes Studio, Voss worked up somewhere between thirty and forty sketches of songs, which he whittled down to the twelve collected here, all of them situated in a unique space, but very much in accord with Voss’s defining aesthetic, which he describes as “indie pop music with a lot of guitar, electronic elements and a great love for melancholic ‘80s synth-lines.”

Voss is sensitive to both variety and consistency – 3:30 Minutes To Live sits together as an assured, vibrant collection of pop songs, but it’s marked by all kinds of surprising incident, like the guitar solo that erupts out of “This Is My Life”, or the acoustic guitar-led melancholy of the closing “This Summer”. It’s all borne of the alchemy of the studio process and the intimate romance of music-making. “If you constantly feel a little bit like you’re in love while writing and producing your music – simply because of the sound of the synth flowing warmly and gently through the room, or because the sequence of notes awakens something in you, or even a randomly arising groove in the loop of a guitar lick makes you shout, ‘Ha!!’ – then it usually becomes a beautiful song,” Voss nods. “Those moments make me happy.”

There’s also a delicious tension between the push of the music, its melodic lushness and gliding, ballerina-like movement, and the darker currents that pull through Voss’s lyrics, inspired by a “short, dramatic and toxic love affair.” This may read like familiar terrain for a pop album, but the way Voss weaves language through both the extra-linguistic joys of music and the inarticulate speech of the heart somehow allows for direct communication that is simultaneously plain-spoken and deeply profound. “Say It” is a simple, devastatingly effective plaint of alienation; “She Wasn’t Lonely” a simple portrait of everyday living set to chiming, clacking guitars, the music in the bridge taking astral flight as the titular character ‘lets herself go.’

A smart and sharp collection of songs that captures you with its gorgeous melodicism just as it blindsides you with its aching heart, 3:30 Minutes To Live is Heiko Voss at his most assured and open-hearted best.

Heiko Voss hat sich als Fackelträger einer emotionalen, von ganzem Herzen kommenden und nicht auf den ersten Blick radikalen Spielart von elektronischer Musik einen nahezu mythischen Status erarbeitet. Das schiere Glück, welches seine Kompakt Pop-Single "I Think About You" aus dem Jahr 2003 immer noch ausstrahlt, macht sie nach wie vor zu einem der Highlights des Label-Katalogs, wo sie neben einer ganzen Reihe hervorragender Singles als Schaeben & Voss steht; andere kennen Heiko vielleicht durch das tolle und vielfach unterschätzte Label Firm, für das er zusammen mit Thomas Schaeben verantwortlich war. Mit seinem neuen Album “3:30 Minutes To Live”, das am 4. März 2022 auf Michael Mayers Label Imara erscheint, kehrt Voss nun nach einer langen Pause mit einer wunderschönen Sammlung von Songs zurück, die den Herzschmerz – getragen auf den Schwingen unwiderstehlicher Melodien – ausgiebig besingen.

“3:30 Minutes To Live” kommt mit einer gehörigen Portion Überzeugung und Selbstbewusstsein daher, was im Vergleich zu seinen früheren Veröffentlichungen wie ein bewusstes Statement wirkt. "Obwohl es das nicht ist, fühlt sich ‘3:30 Minutes To Live’ wie mein Debütalbum an", meint Voss. "Alle meine vorherigen Veröffentlichungen waren eher Song-Skizzen oder elektronische Dance-Tracks."

Im Teary Eyes Studio arbeitete Voss zwischen dreißig und vierzig Songskizzen aus, die er auf die zwölf hier versammelten Songs reduzierte, die alle ihren eigenen Raum einnehmen, dabei aber sehr gut mit Voss' übergeordneter Ästhetik harmonieren, die er als "Indie-Pop-Musik mit viel Gitarre, elektronischen Elementen und einer großen Liebe für melancholische 80er-Jahre-Synthies" beschreibt.

Voss ist sowohl für Abwechslung als auch für Konsistenz empfänglich - “3:30 Minutes To Live“ ist eine selbstsichere, lebendige Sammlung von Popsongs, die aber auch von allerlei Überraschungen geprägt ist, wie dem Gitarrensolo, das aus “This Is My Life” herausbricht, oder die von einer Akustikgitarre getragene Melancholie des abschließenden “This Summer”.

Das alles ist entstanden aus der besonderen Alchemie des Studioprozesses und der intimen Romantik des Musikmachens. "Wenn du beim Schreiben und Produzieren deiner Musik ständig das Gefühl hast, ein bisschen verliebt zu sein – einfach weil der Klang des Synthesizers warm und sanft durch den Raum fließt, oder weil die Notenfolge etwas in dir weckt, oder sogar ein zufällig auftauchender Groove im Loop eines Gitarren-Licks dich ein 'Ha!' ausrufen lässt – dann wird daraus meist ein schöner Song", nickt Voss. "Diese Momente machen mich glücklich."

Es entsteht eine besondere Spannung zwischen dem positiven Elan der Musik, ihrer melodischen Verschwendungssucht, den gleitenden, Ballerina-artigen Bewegungen und den dunkleren Strömungen, die durch Voss' Texte ziehen, die von einer "kurzen, dramatischen und giftigen Liebesaffäre" inspiriert sind. Das mag sich wie ein vertrautes Terrain für ein Pop-Album anhören, aber die Art und Weise, wie Voss die Sprache sowohl durch die nonverbalen Elemente der Musik als auch durch den nicht artikulierten Ausdruck des Herzens verwebt, ermöglicht eine Art direkte Kommunikation, die gleichzeitig ausgesprochen klar und trotzdem tiefgründig ist. “Say It" ist eine erschütternd einprägsame Anklage von Entfremdung; "She Wasn't Lonely" ist ein einfaches Porträt des alltäglichen Lebens, untermalt von klappernden Gitarren, in dem die Musik einen astralen Flug unternimmt, während die Titelfigur sich "gehen lässt".

“3:30 Minutes To Live“ ist eine kluge und scharfsinnige Sammlung von Songs, die den Zuhörenden mit ihren wunderschönen Melodien fesseln, aber auch mit einer Menge schmerzenden Gefühlen konfrontiert. Ein Album, auf dem Heiko Voss ganz bei sich ist und Euch dabei mehr als nur sein Herz öffnet.

The US-born, Norwegian-Mexican musician and producer Carmen Villain, real name Carmen Hillestad, has spent the last nine years and four albums gently unraveling song into the sound of emotional impulse. From the tilt and croon of her first two albums to the expansive warmth that flows and pulses beyond ambient in her more recent output, Hillestad's journey is artful musical deconstruction but also somehow spiritual growth.Hence new album Only Love From Now On, her fourth full-length and the culmination of a build-up that really began with the turn in sound evident from third album Both Lines Will Be Blue (2019, Smalltown Supersound) and the subsequent releases Affection In A Time Of Crisis (2020, Longform Editions) and Sketch For Winter IX: Perlita (2021, Geographic North). While the seed of her aesthetic was planted earlier, it has blossomed into something unexpected, benevolent in its composure and altogether luxuriant in its sensuality. If her themes, especially now, are wide, philosophical, and occasionally abstract, the emotional tenor of Hillestad's music is clear and purposeful. Makes sense that her key musical touchstones are dub, ambient, and cosmic jazz - flexible vehicles for tranquil wonder. While it may not contain voice or lyrics, as her two earliest records do, she describes it as, "wishing to maintain a sense of careful optimism for the future, while on the cusp of something unknown." Listening to Only Love From Now On is simultaneously comforting and alluringly strange. Partly it's the contributions of guests Arve Henriksen (trumpet, electronics) and Johanna Scheie Orellana (flutes). Partly it's the fluidity between instruments - such as clarinets - field recordings, the studio, jam, and careful composition. She calls the process a conversation with sound that occurs in her deliberate attempts to experiment with new methods, like granular synthesis, for her music-making. But mostly that strange comfort is in the peace and grateful contentment she has found via the stark recognition of her own privilege - laid bare by the pandemic. Only Love From Now On is fueled by the sense of scale in feeling small in the face of things so large, the contemplation of how the biggest impact we can have is in the people close to us, the attempt to make sure that impact is a positive one, and the choice to try to focus on love instead of fear.

The Zephyr Bones’ psychedelic rock expands in a precise and determined sophomore album. A warm and accessible record that speaks about love, self-affirmation, loss and hope.

A quicksilver track that glides on a buoyant bassline and glistening melodic interplay, “No One” is the sound of joy. While it’s easy to pigeonhole it as a dreampop track, there’s undoubtedly hints of psych, funk and Kraut all nestled in there, The Zephyr Bones blurring the lines with ease in this intoxicating track that shows growth in their sonic heft without losing their feathery lightness.
Beats per Minute
"No One" opens up like a traditional indie dance track, with sparkling guitars and a vibrant synth lead reminiscent of a cut from The Strokes or Tame Impala. But it progresses in a fascinating way, bringing in a crunchy psychedelic guitar solo and a funky instrumental breakdown at the end. This track has a variety of sounds, but it's prog rock more than anything, as the dynamic instrumentation sticks out the most. Every layer here is not only an excellent piece to the larger puzzle while also being technically impressive on its own. Despite these nods to the more experienced rock nerd, what's the most fascinating is how accessible the tune really is. The wild drum beats, dense synth layers, and lightning-quick guitars demonstrate the true cerebral chemistry of the group. The sheer musical talent doesn't hurt either.
Earmilk
When The Zephyr Bones first burst into the scene they crushed everything that got in their way. Their music slapped us like a wave when it reaches shore. It took us by surprise and left us asking yearning for more. They coined their style “beach wave”. All this became a first album titled Secret Place, something like the sonic coordinates of a sunny place with a soundtrack of guitars with reverb and intoxicating melodies. You can’t tell whether you’ve been there or not, but you definitely want to go back.
In Neon Body they are the same people, but it hits differently. Their melodies and suggestive guitar riffs are on point. They are able to take you back to places. You will never finish these 10 tracks in the same place where you were when you first hit play. Speaking of The Zephyr Bones is speaking of pure freedom. And yet, in this second album we get to know them in a different way, more determined and with a renewed intensity. The landscape has also changed and now the tone reminds us of the twilight, and in some songs you can even feel the reflection of neon light on your skin.
But let’s not lose the point. What matters here are the songs, and in this album you can find pretty damn good ones. “No One”, the first single, is an excellent entry into the universe created in Neon Body. Addictive and irresistible, it will instantly get you dancing and singing along. “So High” is a dizzying and fast-paced first track. By the time “Verneda Lights” arrives, you have fully surrendered to Brian Silva (vocals, guitar and synthesizers), Jossip Tkalcic (guitar and vocals), Marc López (drums) and Carlos Ramos (bass). “Sparks” shines with its own light: it is a controlled fire until the final part of the song makes everything burn again. “Plastic Freedom” goes all-in with an infallible riff. “Velvet” is as elegant as its title suggests, and “Rocksteady” hits the bullseye again with a chorus that hits like a poisonous dart. “Neon Eyes’’ lifts you up with heavenly back up vocals and “Afterglow” keeps you with your feet on the ground – Why? Because begs you to dance. And then comes “Celeste V”, a song that speaks about loss that puts an end to the recording.

Neon Yellow
The Zephyr Bones’ psychedelic rock expands in a precise and determined sophomore album. A warm and accessible record that speaks about love, self-affirmation, loss and hope.

A quicksilver track that glides on a buoyant bassline and glistening melodic interplay, “No One” is the sound of joy. While it’s easy to pigeonhole it as a dreampop track, there’s undoubtedly hints of psych, funk and Kraut all nestled in there, The Zephyr Bones blurring the lines with ease in this intoxicating track that shows growth in their sonic heft without losing their feathery lightness.
Beats per Minute
"No One" opens up like a traditional indie dance track, with sparkling guitars and a vibrant synth lead reminiscent of a cut from The Strokes or Tame Impala. But it progresses in a fascinating way, bringing in a crunchy psychedelic guitar solo and a funky instrumental breakdown at the end. This track has a variety of sounds, but it's prog rock more than anything, as the dynamic instrumentation sticks out the most. Every layer here is not only an excellent piece to the larger puzzle while also being technically impressive on its own. Despite these nods to the more experienced rock nerd, what's the most fascinating is how accessible the tune really is. The wild drum beats, dense synth layers, and lightning-quick guitars demonstrate the true cerebral chemistry of the group. The sheer musical talent doesn't hurt either.
Earmilk
When The Zephyr Bones first burst into the scene they crushed everything that got in their way. Their music slapped us like a wave when it reaches shore. It took us by surprise and left us asking yearning for more. They coined their style “beach wave”. All this became a first album titled Secret Place, something like the sonic coordinates of a sunny place with a soundtrack of guitars with reverb and intoxicating melodies. You can’t tell whether you’ve been there or not, but you definitely want to go back.
In Neon Body they are the same people, but it hits differently. Their melodies and suggestive guitar riffs are on point. They are able to take you back to places. You will never finish these 10 tracks in the same place where you were when you first hit play. Speaking of The Zephyr Bones is speaking of pure freedom. And yet, in this second album we get to know them in a different way, more determined and with a renewed intensity. The landscape has also changed and now the tone reminds us of the twilight, and in some songs you can even feel the reflection of neon light on your skin.
But let’s not lose the point. What matters here are the songs, and in this album you can find pretty damn good ones. “No One”, the first single, is an excellent entry into the universe created in Neon Body. Addictive and irresistible, it will instantly get you dancing and singing along. “So High” is a dizzying and fast-paced first track. By the time “Verneda Lights” arrives, you have fully surrendered to Brian Silva (vocals, guitar and synthesizers), Jossip Tkalcic (guitar and vocals), Marc López (drums) and Carlos Ramos (bass). “Sparks” shines with its own light: it is a controlled fire until the final part of the song makes everything burn again. “Plastic Freedom” goes all-in with an infallible riff. “Velvet” is as elegant as its title suggests, and “Rocksteady” hits the bullseye again with a chorus that hits like a poisonous dart. “Neon Eyes’’ lifts you up with heavenly back up vocals and “Afterglow” keeps you with your feet on the ground – Why? Because begs you to dance. And then comes “Celeste V”, a song that speaks about loss that puts an end to the recording.

Tape

The Zephyr Bones’ psychedelic rock expands in a precise and determined sophomore album. A warm and accessible record that speaks about love, self-affirmation, loss and hope.

A quicksilver track that glides on a buoyant bassline and glistening melodic interplay, “No One” is the sound of joy. While it’s easy to pigeonhole it as a dreampop track, there’s undoubtedly hints of psych, funk and Kraut all nestled in there, The Zephyr Bones blurring the lines with ease in this intoxicating track that shows growth in their sonic heft without losing their feathery lightness.
Beats per Minute
"No One" opens up like a traditional indie dance track, with sparkling guitars and a vibrant synth lead reminiscent of a cut from The Strokes or Tame Impala. But it progresses in a fascinating way, bringing in a crunchy psychedelic guitar solo and a funky instrumental breakdown at the end. This track has a variety of sounds, but it's prog rock more than anything, as the dynamic instrumentation sticks out the most. Every layer here is not only an excellent piece to the larger puzzle while also being technically impressive on its own. Despite these nods to the more experienced rock nerd, what's the most fascinating is how accessible the tune really is. The wild drum beats, dense synth layers, and lightning-quick guitars demonstrate the true cerebral chemistry of the group. The sheer musical talent doesn't hurt either.
Earmilk
When The Zephyr Bones first burst into the scene they crushed everything that got in their way. Their music slapped us like a wave when it reaches shore. It took us by surprise and left us asking yearning for more. They coined their style “beach wave”. All this became a first album titled Secret Place, something like the sonic coordinates of a sunny place with a soundtrack of guitars with reverb and intoxicating melodies. You can’t tell whether you’ve been there or not, but you definitely want to go back.
In Neon Body they are the same people, but it hits differently. Their melodies and suggestive guitar riffs are on point. They are able to take you back to places. You will never finish these 10 tracks in the same place where you were when you first hit play. Speaking of The Zephyr Bones is speaking of pure freedom. And yet, in this second album we get to know them in a different way, more determined and with a renewed intensity. The landscape has also changed and now the tone reminds us of the twilight, and in some songs you can even feel the reflection of neon light on your skin.
But let’s not lose the point. What matters here are the songs, and in this album you can find pretty damn good ones. “No One”, the first single, is an excellent entry into the universe created in Neon Body. Addictive and irresistible, it will instantly get you dancing and singing along. “So High” is a dizzying and fast-paced first track. By the time “Verneda Lights” arrives, you have fully surrendered to Brian Silva (vocals, guitar and synthesizers), Jossip Tkalcic (guitar and vocals), Marc López (drums) and Carlos Ramos (bass). “Sparks” shines with its own light: it is a controlled fire until the final part of the song makes everything burn again. “Plastic Freedom” goes all-in with an infallible riff. “Velvet” is as elegant as its title suggests, and “Rocksteady” hits the bullseye again with a chorus that hits like a poisonous dart. “Neon Eyes’’ lifts you up with heavenly back up vocals and “Afterglow” keeps you with your feet on the ground – Why? Because begs you to dance. And then comes “Celeste V”, a song that speaks about loss that puts an end to the recording.