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FIRST TIME ON VINYL
HALF SPEED MASTERED 180 GRAM VIRGIN VINYL PRESSINGS
INCLUDES COVER ART PRINT
INCLUDES EXCLUSIVE CHRIS ISAAC COVER VERSION
INCLUDES DOWNLOAD CODES FOR THE ORIGINAL MIX AND UNMIXED VERSION IN WAV AND MP3 FORMATS

Trentemøller is the Dane who did. He's been making electronic music of one kind of bent or another for over 15 years, first making his name as part of Trigbag, a live house act that toured extensively. But it's his solo material that has impacted on the dance community - and beyond. 'La Champagne' was a game-changer and his remixes of artists like Sharon Phillips secured his place as an artist with some serious chops. But that's not all he is. You can hear that yearning in his productions and it's evident here, a sort of Protestant northern European melancholy. He is aided on his journey towards the Baltic by some heavy hitters, of course: Velvet Underground, Mazzy Star, This Mortal Coil. But that's not the story, it's not where the plot comes from, it's not where we're going. It's just a little indicator to reassure you we know the way. No. For it's in the dark beauty of Low's tremulous 'Amazing Grace' or even the way that the Shangri-Las' '(Remember) Walkin' In The Sand', surrounded by the similarly inclined, takes on a funereal gait. As we navigate the flatlands of your mind, we're helped along by a generous sprinkling of Anders' fellow Danes, like Darkness Falls (the atmosphere of this mix aptly encapsulated right there), Ekko, Chimes & Bells and the Late Night Tales tradition, Trentemøller's cover of Chris Isaacs' 'Blue Hotel', sung by Marie Fisker and Steen Jørgensen.

Originally released in 2010 this mix has gone on to become a classic, it was never released on vinyl at the time, so due to public demand we have carefully mastered each track and carefully cut at half speed for optimum sonic reproduction.

Atmosphere and gravity lean into each other. They are simultaneously expansive, and anchoring. They hold us, and lend a sense of perspective. They provide a stability and a knowingness which is essential in the absolute, and yet we can't help but find ourselves gazing upward, outward and reaching towards that which sits outside those things and ways we know. Selene is a record about that this lingering desire for that which sits beyond. It is work that seeks new perspectives snatched from familiar vistas, and it meditates on that sense of anchor and perspective. The work is also a speculative hymn to the visions of the celestial zones that spill ever outward. These visions, once merely what we could perceive with the naked eye are now so much more. Our minds eye is fed in equal parts by radio telecopy, filmic dreams and fiction renders of a place most of us will never know first-hand. This recording ties into a linage that reaches back, while stretching forward. It is just one story of so many, told across places, across cultures, across generations. It sits in the in-between of before and after, and in that moment invites us to situate ourselves and lean into it.

Atmosphere and gravity lean into each other. They are simultaneously expansive, and anchoring. They hold us, and lend a sense of perspective. They provide a stability and a knowingness which is essential in the absolute, and yet we can't help but find ourselves gazing upward, outward and reaching towards that which sits outside those things and ways we know. Selene is a record about that this lingering desire for that which sits beyond. It is work that seeks new perspectives snatched from familiar vistas, and it meditates on that sense of anchor and perspective. The work is also a speculative hymn to the visions of the celestial zones that spill ever outward. These visions, once merely what we could perceive with the naked eye are now so much more. Our minds eye is fed in equal parts by radio telecopy, filmic dreams and fiction renders of a place most of us will never know first-hand. This recording ties into a linage that reaches back, while stretching forward. It is just one story of so many, told across places, across cultures, across generations. It sits in the in-between of before and after, and in that moment invites us to situate ourselves and lean into it.

Some songs are so ingrained in our consciousness that they are immediately identifiable upon hearing one or two notes. Featuring one of the most indelible riffs ever played, Foghat's air-guitar anthem "Slow Ride" is such a tune. The hit single turned the British band into stars and catapulted 1975's Fool for the City up the charts. And what a ride it is.

We hear a lot of yearning today about the good-old, glory days of rock and roll, the simple kind that just locked into a good beat, turned out a raunchy groove, and simply kicked you in the butt. The no-pretense type meant for kicking back, letting loose, and surrendering to the melody. Bare-bones music that doesn't need image or looks as a crutch.

Well, this is it, friends, classic meat-and-potatoes 70s rock that comes with killer slide-guitar solos, crunchy leads, driving rhythms, and soaring vocals. No need for any further instructions or explanations. The pact between artist and audience is understood. Here, the band trusts that you know what to do and is ready to rock out with anyone in earshot.

Pressed at Fidelity Record Pressing, Mobile Fidelity's remaster of this Foghat gem bring to the surface the band's marble-solid sturdiness and bluesy structures like never before. Bass notes are thicker and richer, the dual guitars bite and snap, and Lonesome Dave Peverett's singing comes across with realistic grit. This LP invites you to hear and feel the energy Foghat brings to the boogie-infused title track, great cover of the Righteous Brothers' "My Babe," and, of course, the everlasting "Slow Ride."

Auf seinem elften Studioalbum Transmissions erweitert der Singer-Songwriter Lee seine musikalische Bandbreite und verfeinert gleichzeitig seine genau beobachteten Texte, die sich mit Tod, Altern und Liebe auseinandersetzen. Lee, der hinter so erfolgreichen Alben wie "Mission Bell" und "Mountains of Sorrow, Rivers of Song" steht, ist seit seinem Debütalbum, das 2005 mit Gold ausgezeichnet wurde, für seine Zusammenarbeit mit einer langen Liste von Kollaborateuren und Tourneepartnern bekannt, von Paul Simon bis zur Zac Brown Band.

Für das neue Projekt wollte er zu einem Aufnahmestil der alten Schule zurückkehren und mit seiner langjährigen Band in einem Studio im
abgelegenen Marlboro, New York, arbeiten, das von Schlagzeuger Lee Falco und seinem Vater aus dem Holz einer alten Kirche gebaut wurde ("es ist genau so, wie man sich ein Studio in Upstate New York vorstellt", bemerkt Lee). Sie spielten stundenlang live auf kleinstem Raum, und konnten so die zwölf Songs des Albums in weniger als einer Woche aufnehmen.

Not God is the new album from Chicago's beloved two-headed monster, Finom (fka Ohmme). You can ask them to go into more detail about the boring reasons why they changed their name, but for now, the answer is going to be polite refusal. No. Co-fronted by Sima Cunningham and Macie Stewart, Finom's influences run vast and varied, and they put a premium on change. Produced by Jeff Tweedy in the Wilco Loft, Not God is a marvel of growth, a progression from the roots of this collaborative band whose history can be traced back to its improvised conception. This is owed in no small part to their hometown of Chicago, the life raft to so many persisters in musical adventurosity. That energy combined with Finom's dramatic vocal and musical gifts puts them in the peripheries of the legacies cemented by The Roches, Roxy Music, the B52s, Kate Bush, Cate Le Bon, and Wilco. Cunningham and Stewart are brilliant harmonizers, but harmony doesn't equate to a utopia. In Finom's maws harmony can also be a fight, holding the line until the volcano erupts. This realistic depiction of a creative relationship jolts throughout the songs of Not God, and brings the whole damn thing to life. Finom are more than one person with more than one dream. But still, they grow together, harnessed by their shared love of pop songwriting, control, chaos, and being generally freaky-deaky. Freaky in that way that is only really fun when you're doing it with a friend. As the globe spins and advancements advance, it can feel essential to return to relationships that make us feel whole, that generate energy of strength and relief. Which puts double the weight on the reality that Sima and Macie continue to pledge allegiance to each other, at the base of the volcano, in the front seat of the car as it pulls off the highway.

An anthology of the intensely arresting work of Robert Fesler (1936-2023), revealing many of his compositions (1975-1987) created with his self-built synthesizers, with as pinnacle the μP RPF78. All music composed and recorded by Robert Fesler at his home on rue Cour Boisacq in Bierges, Belgium. Except one, all tracks are previously unreleased.

With profound simplicity and devotion, Fesler paints a hermetic inner world with strong emotions of confronting solitude, sensual alienation and traumatic angst. His music was as much a therapeutic treatment as an artistic expression. Fesler quotes, »Building my synthesizers and working with them enabled me to sublimate my anxieties.« Most tracks were played and recorded real time, often with two synthesizers (the Synthese 756 and the μP RPF78), capturing the heat of the moment in one take, without multitracking. The austere and reductionist approach reinforces the overall spirit of his work, resulting in an engaging, mysterious solitary journey. It’s quite incredible how one person can put so much technical cerebral content in the development of a machine and use it in such an emotional way.

The music of Robert Fesler might be considered as very Belgian. To situate it within a close entourage, one can say it has: The endurance of Baudouin Oosterlynck The purity of Dominique Lawalree The mysticism of Arsène Souffriau

Introducing “Psyche Gems”, the Jakarta Records debut LP from LA based Rapper JUICEBOX & Norwegian producer duo Myeye. Debut LP “Psyche Gems,” a collaborative musical venture sparked by an impromptu Instagram jam session in 2021, is poised to mesmerize audiences. The brainchild of JUICEBOX, a versatile artist known for his roles as a singer, songwriter, rapper, and one half of the acclaimed group Figmore (with 10.4 Rog), “Psyche Gems” emerged from JUICEBOX's admiration for Simen Hallset's psych-pop band Gold Celeste (over 20 million Streams on Spotify). After reaching out to Simen, they swiftly connected with Henrik Norbakk, the other half of Myeye, igniting the genesis of the collaborative project. An Instagram jam session in 2021 gave sonic birth to LP “Psyche Gems”. Buttery vocals meet funky, soul-driven beats, meticulously recorded live, then chopped and repurposed to create an experience that transcends sonic definition. From vibrant head-nodding energy to lush beats seamlessly melded with an inimitable vocal delivery, “Psyche Gems” captures the essence of past and present, offering a kaleidoscope snapshot of life reflected through timeless grooves. The album's distinctive sound is characterized by meticulous layering, where each element is meticulously played, chopped, looped, and jammed over until achieving sonic perfection. United by their shared passion for old soul and jazz records, ‘90’s + ‘00’s hip hop, lo-fi indie, and psychedelic music, JUICEBOX and Myeye seamlessly fuse their diverse influences to craft a musical experience that resonates with listeners on a profound level. "We wanted to create something that inspires, provokes, and sheds light on the truths we all carry inside us," explains JUICEBOX. "Psyche Gems is more than just an album; it's an infinite journal entry of reflection, a testament to the power of music to illuminate the human experience."

The current lineup of New Haven's long running Mountain Movers (guitarist/vocalist Dan Greene, bassist Rick Omonte, guitarist Kr yssi Battalene, & drummer Ross Menze) have been playing together for over a decade now, making their recorded debut on a slew of singles released from 2011-2013, but it wasn't until 2015's "Death Magic" (released on New Haven label Safety Meeting) that the potential of that iteration of the group became clear; Mountain Movers are a force of nature. The camaraderie & sensitivity to each others playing has only grown over time, cr ystallizing on the group's trio of albums for Trouble In Mind; 2017's eponymous "Mountain Movers" served as a reintroduction of the group to a larger audience, while 2018's "Pink Skies" raged like a group confident in its strengths, and 2020's prescient "World What World" - written & recorded before the world shut down - slightly shifted focus away from the jams & back toward the weight of guitarist/songwriter Dan Greene's poetic tales of magical realism. The band's ninth album "Walking After Dark" finds a happy medium between both aspects of the band's strengths; Greene's lyrical compositions and the group's long-form improvised jams. To those that are tuned in, that feeling of communion is evident in the Movers' playing. The members swap & cycle effortlessly through instruments without missing a beat, utilizing the downtime of lockdown to write & record every jam in their practice space. Those piles of tapes would eventually get edited & sequenced into "Walking After Dark", a tour-de-force double-album that balances fried, stony brilliance with outré excursions of experimental serenity. Consider the opening track "Bodega On My Mind" that ambles in like a road-worn traveller, its lysergic folk strums peppered with acidic lead lines from Battalene's Telecaster, eventually giving way to "The Sun Shines On The Moon, where the group's sizzling guitars are buoyed by Omonte's pillowy bass & Menze's percussion. From there on out, tracks like "Factory Dream" give the listener a taste of The Movers' modus operandi here; a mixture of (more) traditional song craft interspersed between long-form, improvised pieces of modern psychedelia. The group shuffles through instruments; synths, drum machines, auto-harp, various forms of percussion (and whatever else was laying around) as well as the trad guitar/bass/drums configuration to craft a suite of songs that - while not necessarily similar in composition - feel unified in their overall sonic scope. Tracks like the 14-minute "Reclamation Yard", whose deep-space electronic pulse is juxtaposed against side C opener "See The City "s persistent acoustic strum that showcase similar ideas of the `spirituality ' of losing ones self in repetition, but executed differently. In many ways "Walking After Dark"s duality feels like a merger of "On The Beach"-era Neil Young & the collective freak-outs of Amon Düül, taking inspiration in the `incorporeality ' of free music and lacing it with Greene's hazy, haunting lyricism and is an exciting step forward for a band that's already a few steps ahead. "Walking After Dark" is released on black double-vinyl in a full color gatefold jacket & includes an insert with artwork & lyrics by member Dan Greene.

Deluxe 180g vinyl. Art Edition LP includes set of six 12”x12” art cards.



The follow-up to Kee Avil's acclaimed 2022 debut Crease: "A stunning debut" (The Quietus); "A whiplash style of uninhibited exploration" (The Wire); "Kee Avil's debut is a force" (Foxy Digitalis); "A work of Frankensteinian wonder" (Electronic Sound); "A tightly coiled, finely wrought vision of avant-pop" (Exclaim); "A debut of fiendish creativity" (Bandcamp Album Of The Day / Albums Of The Year) Kee Avil's music is both adventurous and intimate, intellectually challenging and emotionally resonant. The Montréal guitarist and producer's 2022 debut LP Crease garnered plaudits from outlets like The Wire, The Quietus, Mojo and Foxy Digitalis, picking up a Canadian Juno Award nomination and Bandcamp Album Of The Day and Albums Of The Year along the way. Its intricate construction, unnerving atmospheres, and knife-edge take on avant-pop prompted comparisons to early PJ Harvey, This Heat, and Gazelle Twin. A remix EP with work by claire rousay, Ami Dang, Cecile Believe, and Pelada brought collaborative perspectives to four Crease tracks, offering new pathways within those songs. With Spine, Kee Avil strips back her heavily textured compositions, opening up a much rawer sound. She calls it folk… and while traditionalists might scoff, this is urgent music that reflects the precarity of modern life, as well as the jarring mixture of electronic and real-world interactions that have become the fabric of our day-to-day experiences. There's a hypnotic post-punk somnambulance to it all, using the repetition and fracturing of melodic phrases interwoven with delicate electronics to create curious and persistent hooks. While not a concept album, themes of time's passage, remembrance, and decay crop up across multiple tracks. Each track intentionally only has four elements - guitar, electronics, and two other instruments, with Kee's voice and guitar pushed to the front. Within this minimalist framework, the juxtaposition of beauty and discomfort that is key to the Kee Avil sound stands out in skin-prickling relief. "We're shaped by many versions of ourselves," says Avil. "I was looking back at these versions of myself and what could have been, what didn't end up being and what did end up being, and going back like that through time. Seeing the future, the past." Spine was written in Kee Avil's home studio after a lapse in writing while touring Crease and working on other projects. She is a well-known and respected member of the Montréal experimental scene, and formerly ran Concrete Sound Studio with Zach Scholes, who continues to work with her as a producer on Spine. Compared to the three years that went into making her debut, Spine emerged in a matter of months - a process that may also be a factor in its intensity and sharpness: "This record was much harder, like it was really discovering everything from scratch." In her desire to not simply replicate or extend the sound of Crease, she felt she had to rip up the rule book, write in a different way, and pare back songs against her usual instincts. Sometimes, when we work against our ingrained habits, we get to the core of who we really are. Spine is an exercise in that process. Without over-intellectualizing or being didactic, it hits immediately and emotionally, especially if you are a person who has spent much time in the process of self-examination. Kee's voice hisses, whispers, and chants; her guitar bends and rings; electronics skitter and crackle; violin creaks like a door in the wind. There is something so evocative about the atmospheres she creates that it's easy to overlay one's own feelings onto her work, but to do that wholly would be to overlook one of the most important things about Spine: Kee Avil's clear and thoughtful vision. This isn't just the next step forward in her artistic trajectory; it's a stunner of a record that stands on its own, a bracing and thrilling listen that has much to reveal about the contradictions inherent in being human. - jj skolnik

2024 reissue of Thomas Bückers debut album as Bersarin Quartett, originally released in 2008 on Lidar.

With some albums, you realize within a few seconds that here you have come across something really special. It is music that touches you straight away. Music that is important, that has a story to tell – and that manages to do so without even a single line of lyrics.

Wonderful orchestral pieces full of longing and melancholy. It is that certain kind of melancholy that seizes you when you are moved while following the final credits of an emotionally touching movie, remembering special moments that have faded in the course of many years and linger hazily in your memory, when you are somewhat wistfully contemplating old, worn photographs from days passed by … not a feeling of failure or hopelessness, but a bittersweet reflection.

Orchestral cinemascope sounds provide the emotionally moving fundament, wrap the tracks up in a warm coating. Graceful strings pile up, creating big moments and repeatedly ending inmelodies that are simply heart-rending, cinematic and tragic. But the Bersarin Quartett does not merely rely on these ingredients. The songs are also repeatedly interspersed with suspenseful and surprising elements, be it frail electronica, hypnotic soundscapes, drums or reverbed guitars. Rarely has amelange sounded as convincing and natural as this, and rarely has it sounded so well produced.

Thomas himself calls his music “imaginary fictional filmscores“. And it is hardly possible to come up with a more apt term. 10 tracks for 10 movies that have yet to be shot. Music that radiates such an enormous and authentic passion in every single minute, that one can’t help but completely abandon oneself to it. And honestly: Can there be anything more wonderful that can be achieved through music?

"I was in a dream, but now I can see that change is the only law." With a credo adapted from science fiction author Octavia E. Butler, an album title from a collection of metaphysical poetry, and an expansion in consciousness brought on by personal crisis, guitarist and songwriter Shana Cleveland learns to embrace a changing world with unconditional love on News of the Universe, the new full-length from California rock band La Luz. News of the Universe is a record born of calamity, a work of dark, beautiful psychedelia reflecting Cleveland's experience of having her world blown apart by a breast cancer diagnosis just two years after the birth of her son. It's also a portrait of a band in flux, marking the first appearance for drummer Audrey Johnson and the final ones from longtime members bassist Lena Simon and keyboardist Alice Sandahl, whose contributions add a bittersweet edge to a record that is both elegy for an old world and cosmic road map to a strange new one. But is there any band in the world more suited to capturing the chaos of change in all its messy beauty than La Luz? Formed by Cleveland in 2012, La Luz is beloved for their ability to balance bedlam and bliss, each new record another fine-tuning of the band's mix of swaggering riffs with angelic vocals borrowed from doo-wop and folk; a band so reliably great that it makes the huge step forward in confidence and sheer musicality that is News of the Universe all the more formidable. Cleveland, also a writer and painter, has developed into a truly original songwriter with her own canon of haunted psychedelia. Yet if Cleveland has spent years writing songs about ghosts, what lurks in the shadows of News of the Universe is nothing less than death itself. "There are moments on this album that sound to me like the last frantic confession before an asteroid destroys the earth," says Cleveland. The powerful sense of openness that permeates News of the Universe is at least partially due to the fact that it is a record made entirely by women-from the performing, writing, and producing all the way through to the recording, engineering, and mastering. Working with producer Maryam Qudos (Spacemoth), the all-female environment allowed Cleveland to feel safe tapping into difficult places and expressing hard emotions women are socialized to suppress. Unashamedly vulnerable, unabashedly feminine, and undeniably triumphant, News of the Universe is another knockout record from a band so reliably great that it has perhaps led people to overlook how pioneering La Luz really are: women of color in indie music forging their own path by following their own artistic star into galaxies beyond current musical trends, always led by an earnest belief in the cosmic power of love and a great riff. Never is that more true than on News of the Universe, which might be La Luz's most brutal record to date but also their most blissful.

“Why Can’t We Live Together” is a song written and recorded by Timmy Thomas in 1972. A chart hit in the following year, it was included on the album Why Can’t We Live Together. It was one of the first major hits to feature the use of a rhythm machine! From his organ! Very apt for our times, this song simply gives a heartfelt antiwar message. The track has been re-recorded by the likes of Sade, MC Hammer, Santana and Steve Winwood over the years but it’s the original that has the magic of it’s creator!

Ben Liebrand ups the bpm’s for his mix. He creates a percussive jam that pumps with pure emotion. Absolute club class.

Included on this release is Ben’s (now admittedly taking ownership after 43 years) 1981 Bootleg which chugs with soul and funk goodness.

James Devane returns with another adept investigation into minimal techno’s spaces in between. “Searching” serves as both companion to “Beauty is Useless” and the next logical step in James’ exploration of process as guiding compositional tool. Conceptually simple, technically robust, the end result elicits both an undeniable groove and a trove of detail for listeners willing to go deep. In his own words: “These recordings are the result of chance. Using hours of source material, everything was “chosen”, manipulated, and assembled at random via custom software without concern for key, tempo, measures, or rhythm. A search button and a save button.”

Black Truffle is pleased to announce the first vinyl reissue of Trancedance, a wild slice of Swedish Afro-fusion from Christer Bothén, originally released in 1984. A major figure in Swedish jazz and improvised music since the 1970s, often heard on bass clarinet and tenor sax, Bothen studied doso n’koni (the large six-stringed ‘hunter’s harp’ of the Wasulu) in Mali in 1971-2 before turning to the guinbri (the three-stringed lute of the Gnawa/Gnauoua) in Marakesh later in the decade. In between, he performed extensively with Don Cherry during his Organic Music Society period and taught Cherry the doso n’koni. In the later 70s and 80s he worked with the most important figures in the distinctive Swedish jazz-rock-world fusion scene, joining Archimedes Badkar for their African-influenced Tre and participating in Bengt Berger’s legendary Bitter Funeral Beer Band. Many of the musicians who played on the Bitter Funeral Beer Band’s ECM LP (including Berger on drums, Anita Livstrand on voice and percussion and Tord Bengstsson on piano, violin and guitar) joined Bothén for one of the sessions that produced Trancedance, the first release under his own name, dedicated to his compositions. The other session introduced his seven-piece group Bolon Bata, heard on the second track of each side. The title track opens the album with the rubbery buzzing strings of the doso n’goni playing a hypnotic ten beat pattern, soon joined by bass and piano before the entire nine-piece group kicks in with a rollicking Afro-jazz workout, Berger’s drums driving an intricate, winding melodic line played by the horns with Mattias Helden’s cello throwing in pizzicato slides and smears. Bothén then takes centre stage on tenor sax, soloing with a wide, vibrating tone and moving seamlessly from soaring melodies to guttural stutters. After a return to the composed horn lines and a solo from Elsie Petrén on alto sax, the piece builds to an ecstatic conclusion of yelping voices and handclaps, gradually simmering down to return to the solo doso n’koni where it began.

The hypnotic sounds of the hunter’s harp carries over to ‘Mimouna’, where it is joined by Bothen’s overdubbed guinbri. The piece develops into a haunting whispered and sung invocation, gradually building momentum until the organic textures of strings, voices, and hand percussion are ruptured by Lennart Söderlund’s distorted guitar, which brings an unmistakable touch of 1984 to the otherwise timeless sound. Joined by chicken scratch guitar and increasingly dominated by the insistent clang of three of Bolon Bata’s members on karqab (a kind of cast-iron castanet), the grove develops frenetically.

The B side opens with the multi-part epic ‘9+10 Moving Pictures for the Ear’, at over 16 minutes the record’s longest piece. Though Bothen is heard only on horns on this piece, the hypnotic repeating bass line carries on the first side’s link to African musical traditions. Using an expanded 16-piece ensemble, the music balances untethered improvisation with carefully arranged passages of knotty ensemble playing that at points suggest Mingus, Moacir Santos or some of the ambitious post-free work being done in the same years by figures like David Murray or Henry Threadgill. The piece ends with a triumphant passage of looping unison melody reminiscent of the Scandinavian folk explorations of Arbete och Fritid (whose Kjell Westling is heard on bass clarinet and soprano sax here). The sound of Bjorn Lundqvist’s fretless bass introduces the odd left turn made by the record’s final track, a spaced-out expedition into bluesy horn lines and distant guitar atmospherics set to a semi-reggae beat, perfumed by the core Bolon Bata group and bearing the appropriate title of ‘The Horizon Stroller’. A must for fans of the Swedish scene around groups like Arbete och Fritid and Archimedes Badkar, as well as any listener who has been seduced by Louis Moholo’s Spirits Rejoice!, The Brotherhood of Breath, or, more recently, the guinbri grooves of Natural Information Society, Trancedance is a lost classic ripe for rediscovery.

Bill MacKay and Drag City are delirious with pride to announce the discovery of a new territory: Locust Land, a record which seeks to reflect the nerve-shredding consciousness run amok in our world today - and somehow allay it with sound. Bill"s music is a visceral crackling where it meets the air, and Locust Land can"t help but reflect its era more than any other in his discography. It"s been five years since the release of Fountain Fire - but in the interim, Bill has barely stopped moving, collaborating with artists across the spectrum, including cellist Katinka Kleijn, banjo player Nathan Bowles and keyboardist Cooper Crain. He"s also contributed to recordings by Steve Gunn, Ryley Walker, Bill Callahan & Bonnie Prince Billy (Blind Date Party), and Black Duck (on their self-titled record featuring Douglas McCombs and Charles Rumback). Forget five years - how"d he even get Locust Land squeezed out of his temporal lobes? Bill"s sense of music as art is constantly modulating - lifting off from where it is found and naturally migrating to some other place. Sometimes, that"s elsewhere - others, it"s simply to be found deeper inside the starting point. And so, the action of moving on informs the landscape of Locust Land. This manifests in several different ways. A restless energy and urgency is repeatedly felt - in the driving momentum of "Keeping in Time," "Glow Drift," and "When I Was Here" - while a dogged persistence radiates from the tone colors and percussion of "Oh, Pearl." Mating a dirge-like desolation with sparkling guitars, "Radiator" adds darkness and depth. The sense of searching, displacement and longing in vocal tracks "Keeping in Time," "Half of You," and "When I Was Here" speak literally to the tumult of current vibrations. Within the arrangements, there"s also departure from previous norms - in addition to the brilliant guitar work for which he is known, Bill plays a variety of keyboards, from piano to organ to synth, extending his music with the available voicings, while enriching the sound field without abandoning his signature brevity. For fans of his singing, and following in the recent tradition of Fountain Fire as well as his collaboration with Nathan Bowles, Keys, Locust Land expresses with an increased vocal presence - and heightened engagement, with Bill"s words and melodies drawing us closer. Also different: on his previous solo recordings, Bill played every sound. Here, he has invited other illustrious Chicagoans to join him: Sam Wagster (The Father Costume, Mute Duo) plays bass on three songs, two of which feature the percussion playing of Mikel Patrick Avery (Natural Information Society, Jeff Parker, etc.). Additionally, Janet Beveridge Bean (Eleventh Dream Day, Freakwater) adds otherworldly vocal textures to the elegiac "Neil"s Field." Whether played alone or with companions, this music projects the strength of a universal collective. Even with a piece that might earlier have passed for blissful pastorale, Bill displays some declamatory motives. The reverie which opens the album, "Phantasmic Fairy," embodies both transcendent and desperate moods, with Bill"s ineffable slide guitar playing afloat, with organs and synths, in a dream state suffused with a sense of foreboding - a requiem, perhaps for the days of unencumbered bandwidth? On the other side of the album, the strength to continue to hope appears in the lifting melodicism/exoticism of the album-closing title track, leaving the listener with the sense of having achieved a hard-won space - a place of personal contemplation and dissent, one that everyone on the planet deserves to visit every single day on earth. With cover art also by Bill MacKay (the third of his albums on Drag City to feature his work), Locust Land stands as a thoroughly personal statement from Bill to everyone everywhere.

Bill MacKay and Drag City are delirious with pride to announce the discovery of a new territory: Locust Land, a record which seeks to reflect the nerve-shredding consciousness run amok in our world today - and somehow allay it with sound. Bill"s music is a visceral crackling where it meets the air, and Locust Land can"t help but reflect its era more than any other in his discography. It"s been five years since the release of Fountain Fire - but in the interim, Bill has barely stopped moving, collaborating with artists across the spectrum, including cellist Katinka Kleijn, banjo player Nathan Bowles and keyboardist Cooper Crain. He"s also contributed to recordings by Steve Gunn, Ryley Walker, Bill Callahan & Bonnie Prince Billy (Blind Date Party), and Black Duck (on their self-titled record featuring Douglas McCombs and Charles Rumback). Forget five years - how"d he even get Locust Land squeezed out of his temporal lobes? Bill"s sense of music as art is constantly modulating - lifting off from where it is found and naturally migrating to some other place. Sometimes, that"s elsewhere - others, it"s simply to be found deeper inside the starting point. And so, the action of moving on informs the landscape of Locust Land. This manifests in several different ways. A restless energy and urgency is repeatedly felt - in the driving momentum of "Keeping in Time," "Glow Drift," and "When I Was Here" - while a dogged persistence radiates from the tone colors and percussion of "Oh, Pearl." Mating a dirge-like desolation with sparkling guitars, "Radiator" adds darkness and depth. The sense of searching, displacement and longing in vocal tracks "Keeping in Time," "Half of You," and "When I Was Here" speak literally to the tumult of current vibrations. Within the arrangements, there"s also departure from previous norms - in addition to the brilliant guitar work for which he is known, Bill plays a variety of keyboards, from piano to organ to synth, extending his music with the available voicings, while enriching the sound field without abandoning his signature brevity. For fans of his singing, and following in the recent tradition of Fountain Fire as well as his collaboration with Nathan Bowles, Keys, Locust Land expresses with an increased vocal presence - and heightened engagement, with Bill"s words and melodies drawing us closer. Also different: on his previous solo recordings, Bill played every sound. Here, he has invited other illustrious Chicagoans to join him: Sam Wagster (The Father Costume, Mute Duo) plays bass on three songs, two of which feature the percussion playing of Mikel Patrick Avery (Natural Information Society, Jeff Parker, etc.). Additionally, Janet Beveridge Bean (Eleventh Dream Day, Freakwater) adds otherworldly vocal textures to the elegiac "Neil"s Field." Whether played alone or with companions, this music projects the strength of a universal collective. Even with a piece that might earlier have passed for blissful pastorale, Bill displays some declamatory motives. The reverie which opens the album, "Phantasmic Fairy," embodies both transcendent and desperate moods, with Bill"s ineffable slide guitar playing afloat, with organs and synths, in a dream state suffused with a sense of foreboding - a requiem, perhaps for the days of unencumbered bandwidth? On the other side of the album, the strength to continue to hope appears in the lifting melodicism/exoticism of the album-closing title track, leaving the listener with the sense of having achieved a hard-won space - a place of personal contemplation and dissent, one that everyone on the planet deserves to visit every single day on earth. With cover art also by Bill MacKay (the third of his albums on Drag City to feature his work), Locust Land stands as a thoroughly personal statement from Bill to everyone everywhere.

"Everything's been fucked since David Bowie died or they started up the Hadron Collider" say The Janitors. This feeling is epitomised in the title of their riveting new album: An Error Has Occurred. Marking over two decades of activity for the Swedish psych-rockers, the recording is informed by heartbreak and loss as well as the dismal state of the entire planet. For The Janitors, these two polarities intertwine constantly: "What's personal is political and vice versa." To channel their frustration and anger, the band revived certain songs they'd shelved during the pandemic when working on the acclaimed Noisolation Sessions. They added others, written since, that suited the mood of sticking a middle finger up to the oppressive world around us. Whereas previous recordings were often layered up gradually, this time the full band (Henric Herlenius, Jonas Eriksson, Anders Thorell and Wilhelm Tengdahl) rehearsed intensely together before laying down everything live, over two days and nights, in a converted missionary church. The songs on Side A have the menace of Melvins, the swagger of The Stooges and the cosmic heft of The Heads. These are the more simply constructed and poppier pieces... or so the band believe. (One friend of theirs did consider this "delusional".) 'In A Bliss' acts as the album's radiant centrepiece. A palette-cleansing love song which recalls The Jesus And Mary Chain at their most starry eyed, it finds The Janitors searching for solace and strength in straightforward companionship. After this come the dronier numbers, drawn out with soundscapes and textures influenced by The Velvet Underground's sonic experiments and the equally immersive atmospheres of electronic acts like Massive Attack. Hence, 'Operator' swings threateningly like a space-rock Swans, while the approach on 'Farewell Spacegirl' is jazzier and more meditative. "It can be hard to muster up some, or even any, positive energy at this point in time," says Henric. "We are eternally grateful to have the creative output that this constellation gives us. Neither me or Jonas would probably be here, or be the same people we are, if it wasn't for The Janitors. We'll leave you with a quote from an old anarchist: 'Every society gets the criminals it deserves.'"

12'' / Red transparent Color Vinyl

Pain Beurre and his Intergral Transform brings a tribe long tune, morphing into Trance... or putting you into trance anyway...

CED "deadline" tune is a CC Atom incision in something more rockn'roll with a cool breakbeat drop...

All in one it's a thinlace of acid melodies and progressives structures... lightening sound !

Mastering : Stefan ZMK, Cut Simon the Exchange, Pressing Vinyl de Paris