Search:skew

There are few things in life quite as mesmerising or outrageously euphoric as the nine-strong Umlauts army effervescing in fulsome force. Rebelling against labels, transcending borders of land and time - packed with twin vocalists equally competent in their skewering south-London drawl as they are in German, Italian or French - as in touch with the nostalgias of First-Generation post-punk or 80s pop as they are with the techniks of contemporary pop or big beat dance - the Umlauts are paragons of trans-europe excess, dripping with inarguable edge; shambling wildly from chaotic cool to bombastically exquisite order; invested with unhinging, socio-political bite, dancing in a rave of their own.

Black Truffle is pleased to announce The Leisure Principle, a new solo LP from London-based bassist and sound artist Otto Willberg. A key player in the London underground, Willberg is often heard on acoustic and electric bass in free improv settings and bands with Laurie Tompkins (Yes Indeed) and Charles Hayward (Abstract Concrete), as well as the fractured No Wave unit Historically Fucked. His previous solo releases have ranged from extended technique double bass to explorations of the acoustics of a 19th century artillery fort. But nothing Willberg has committed to wax so far prepares a listener for The Leisure Principle, six unashamedly melodic improvisational workouts created almost entirely with heavily filtered bass harmonica and electric bass. On the opening ‘Reap What Thou Sow’, a single-note bass harmonica loop pulses along underneath a roaming bass solo, the side-chained envelope filtering (where the dynamic behaviour of the bass determines the filter for both bass and harmonica) fusing the two instruments into a single stream of burbling shifts in resonance. After several minutes of patient exploration of this low-end landscape, the music suddenly opens up in widescreen with the entrance of Sam Andreae’s graceful melodica chords, spreading out across the stereo field. From this epic opener, each of the remaining pieces goes on to explore a slightly different aspect of the terrain. On ‘Shadow Came into the Eyes as Earth Turned on its Axis’, a similarly buoyant harmonica bass line provides the foundation, but this time playing a soulful descending riff, its almost R&B feel abstracted and half-obscured by the filtering. On ‘Mollusk’, echoed bass arpeggios skitter between elegiac chords somewhat reminiscent of the opening of John Abercrombie’s ‘Timeless’, before settling into a hypnotic groove. On the record’s second half, Willberg pushes further into the possibilities of his idiosyncratic instrumentation. On ‘Wetter’, bass and harmonica come together into a monstrous, growling jaw harp; on ‘Had we but world enough and more time’, the subtly shifting pulsating patterns start to feel almost like a kind of evaporated, drum-less dub techno until an eruption of wheezing bass harmonica gives the piece a comically folkish turn. Willberg’s melodically inventive and virtuosic bass performance calls to mind any number of fusion touchstones, from Jaco Pastorius to Mark Egan’s singing tone in the early Pat Metheny Group—even Anthony Jackson’s work with Steve Kahn. But with its radically reduced instrumentation, The Leisure Principle is also an exercise in minimalism, and the absence of percussion gives even its funkiest moments a strangely abstracted quality. At times, its uncanny blend of the abstruse and the immediate suggests the fried pop experiments of David Rosenboom or the skewed but deeply musical DIY of 80s underground groups like De Fabriek. Both easy on the ear and profoundly strange, The Leisure Principle proudly takes its place among the most eccentric offerings on the Black Truffle menu.

They drift with phantom ease from spare, intimate, literate alt-country to a nuanced, weighted music bearing the marks of rock'n'roll history..." Classic Rock 8/10 // ”...slow burning, emotional intensity" Mojo **** // ”Alluring and seductive." Uncut **** // Morton Valence’s eighth, and eponymously titled album, comes to you, courtesy of Cow Pie Recordings, featuring 11 new songs, produced by the legendary BJ Cole. Robert ‘Hacker’ Jessett and Anne Gilpin, who form the nucleus of Morton Valence, effortlessly take the country music genre, which is generally considered a uniquely American musical form, and create something uniquely English, without ever compromising their authenticity. The atmosphere that BJ Cole brings to the album is palpable, in both production values, and his unmistakable pedal steel guitar performances, on songs such as the plaintive ‘Together Through the Rain’, where an estranged Anne and Hacker reunite under the shelter of an umbrella, walking through the rain and trading verses along the way. Or the more upbeat country rock of ‘I’ve Been Watching You/You’ve Been Watching Me’, which is almost as if Richard and Linda Thompson had touched down in some Nashville backbar before heading for the bright lights. And of course, the scintillatingly down-beat opener, and instant urban-country classic; ‘Summertime in London’, where Hacker reflects on his home city from afar, through simultaneously tear-stained and rose-tinted glasses. What gives the album its country hallmark, are the narratives in the songs. However, they forego the typical Americana for an altogether more kitchen-sink aesthetic. We see the return of MV alter egos Bob and Veronica in ‘Bob and Veronica’s Big Move’, as they make their way from the big city to what could only be the arcadian blue-collar tranquillity of Hastings, or Skegness perhaps? There’s the bewildered small-town homecoming of a wannabe prodigal son in ‘A Town Called Home’. And a conversation with ‘Jim’, a seemingly old-school kind of bloke, with a penchant for midday drinking and late-night city shenanigans. As well as BJ Cole’s steel guitar, there are other collaborations too. ‘Like a Face that’s Been Starved of a Kiss’, co-written with Band of Holy Joy front man, and lyrical visionary Johny Brown. Flamenco guitar genius, Amir John Haddad, sits in on the urban-cowboy ballad, ‘Me & My Old Guitar’, the skewed violin of Dylan Bates brings something of the vaudeville to songs such as ‘It Isn’t Easy Being an Angel’, Guy Jackson adds his sublime keyboards throughout, and the whole thing is held together by unsung rhythm section heroes Jamie Shaw on drums and Josh De Mita on bass. As with all Morton Valence albums, along with the shade, there is always some light, in particular the escapist cosmic romp of ‘It’s a Brand-New Morning’, or the wryly observant, ‘It Isn’t Easy Being an Angel’, where the protagonist discovers that he’s living in some weird kind of purgatory where even the late Johnny Thunders has quit smoking. This is an ambitious album, formed through a unique symbiosis of musical characters, which is ready to redefine UK country music, put ‘urban country’ centre-stage, and should be heard by everyone

Chain Of Flowers return with their lofty and long-simmering sophomore full-length, rich with reckonings, reverb, and redemption: Never Ending Space. Despite some of the songs dating back a few years, the record first began materialising in earnest during the pandemic, by which point most of the band had relocated from Cardiff to London.

Reunited and rejuvenated, they picked up where they left off, booking two multi-day sessions at Hackney hub Total Refreshment Centre with producer Jonah Falco. In this time they successfully channelled their kinetic chemistry into 10 full-blooded anthems of torn dreams, poetic delirium, and “hope stretched too far.” Musically, Never Ending Space skews notably more maximal than the group’s previous work, fleshed out with trumpets, saxophone, synth, percussion boxes, and spoken word. (Smith jokingly calls them The Chain Of Flowers Orchestra).

Yet the songs still swing and soar with a charged heart, ripe with hooks, drama and ragged melody. Opener “Fire (In The Heart Of Hearts)” stirs to life on a tide of wiry guitar and defiant horns, facing down the embers of love that still glow in the wake of pain: “Peace came tumbling like a shower of bricks / The mind twists slowly till everything fits.”

A tense energy ripples throughout – from the nocturnal rush of “Serving Purpose” and “Amphetamine Luck” to the bruised battle cries of “Torcalon” and “Old Human Material.” Outliers like “Praying Hands, Turtle Doves” hint at proggy possible futures, while instrumental vignette “Anomia” offers an intriguing glimpse at a lesser heard facet of the band: swaying, shadowy, subdued. The album’s title track is also its closing cut, a stomping, sparkling ode to “the wrong side of the night, where time goes to die.” Smith describes the scene: “Everyone’s talking, screaming, trauma bonding, but no one’s listening. Broken dialogue. Shouting over each other. You want to switch off, but everyone’s too fucked.” The guitars spiral and slide towards the oblivion of dawn, the chance to crash and do it all again.

Tom James Scott holds a unique position in experimental music. With a soft brush approach Scott, who currently lives on the North-West coast of England, has explored delicacy in music with a variety of sublime releases on a variety of labels. Predominantly known for gentle investigations of guitar and piano, Scott has shifted to incorporating different technology and tactics over time. All of this, either in performance or recording, is embedded with a spirit that is quintessentially his own. Nightshade is the latest in his expanding catalogue, one which ignites an alarmingly new take on his approach to music. Echo on Water initiates proceedings with the unmistakable sound of tape.

Any instrumentation is buried amongst the woozy sway of the medium itself, with its rough dynamics soon morphing into an overwhelmingly swirling mass of emotionally decayed sound. The movement of matter takes on a haunted shape with sounds looping and falling apart as the physicality of the medium holds it all together. The second track Blue Mist furthers this approach with its smeared haze of gorgeous emotion. This is deep exploration of ideas meeting matter. Wasting Stars takes up the entire flip side with the sound of tape recoiling a bit to allow the delicate glow of instruments to come more to the fore, with gentle effects that weave the musical matter. As a skewered take on Scott’s earlier piano explorations the atmosphere here is a subdued soundscape evoking the spiritual sadness found in the piano works of Gurdjieff/De Hartmann, with a modern lo fi angle.

Nightshade is a deeply effective journey and one of the most exquisite examples of Scott’s delicate approach so far. Two sides of form which inhabit contrasting yet complimentary clouds of sound communicating in an stunning emotional flow. As music with only trace elements of melody, Nightshade is a beautiful take on tools being used to explore paths both highly idiosyncratic, deeply moving and discreetly personal.

Chain Of Flowers return with their lofty and long-simmering sophomore full-length, rich with reckonings, reverb, and redemption: Never Ending Space. Despite some of the songs dating back a few years, the record first began materialising in earnest during the pandemic, by which point most of the band had relocated from Cardiff to London.

Reunited and rejuvenated, they picked up where they left off, booking two multi-day sessions at Hackney hub Total Refreshment Centre with producer Jonah Falco. In this time they successfully channelled their kinetic chemistry into 10 full-blooded anthems of torn dreams, poetic delirium, and “hope stretched too far.” Musically, Never Ending Space skews notably more maximal than the group’s previous work, fleshed out with trumpets, saxophone, synth, percussion boxes, and spoken word. (Smith jokingly calls them The Chain Of Flowers Orchestra).

Yet the songs still swing and soar with a charged heart, ripe with hooks, drama and ragged melody. Opener “Fire (In The Heart Of Hearts)” stirs to life on a tide of wiry guitar and defiant horns, facing down the embers of love that still glow in the wake of pain: “Peace came tumbling like a shower of bricks / The mind twists slowly till everything fits.”

A tense energy ripples throughout – from the nocturnal rush of “Serving Purpose” and “Amphetamine Luck” to the bruised battle cries of “Torcalon” and “Old Human Material.” Outliers like “Praying Hands, Turtle Doves” hint at proggy possible futures, while instrumental vignette “Anomia” offers an intriguing glimpse at a lesser heard facet of the band: swaying, shadowy, subdued. The album’s title track is also its closing cut, a stomping, sparkling ode to “the wrong side of the night, where time goes to die.” Smith describes the scene: “Everyone’s talking, screaming, trauma bonding, but no one’s listening. Broken dialogue. Shouting over each other. You want to switch off, but everyone’s too fucked.” The guitars spiral and slide towards the oblivion of dawn, the chance to crash and do it all again.

After taking time out from working together to focus on separate musical projects, maverick composer Alan Roberts (Jim Noir) and crowd-rousing vocalist Leonore Wheatley (International Teachers of Pop / The Soundcarriers) have re-joined forces to introduce Co-Pilot. Each the other’s wing person, they’re plotting an escape through Manchester’s claustrophobic grey skies with the pencil case colour of a hand-sewn multi-coloured primary school patchwork quilt. “We are both the creators in charge of navigating Co-Pilot’s overall sound which changes from track to track,” Leonore hints at what to expect. “There are about 6 different genres on one album, it's a pick n mix record!”


Happy in the haze of many boozy hours the album was recorded over just a few months whilst holed up and hanging out in Al’s city centre Dookstereo studio. The former Mill allowed the pair to relax, laugh and create without constraint. Armed with their original demos and vocal recordings from Al’s flat, they’d nip by the offie to pick up some Dutch courage before setting to work: building arrangements from a drum beat and basic chord pattern, the pair were so in tune they rarely spoke, allowing only the music to lead the way. “We’d communicate through nods of agreement or grimaces of dismay,” Leonore recalls. “Using the instruments with Al in production mode, we let the sound dictate the process whilst being drunk enough to follow it.”
The sound of life coming full circle after honing their separate crafts, Leonore had previously played keys and vocals in Jim Noir’s live band before moving on to front International Teachers of Pop for two critically lauded albums of joyous dancefloor filling bangers - their self-titled debut (2019) and Pop Gossip (2020). During that time Al would further expand Jim Noir’s universe with AM Jazz, which was celebrated as the no.1 album in Piccadilly Records’ ‘End of Year Review’ (2020), followed by the Deep View Blue E.P. (2021) cementing his status as one of Manchester’s finest songwriters.
As Leonore added her vocal magic to Al’s early demos of what would eventually become Co-Pilot’s ‘Spring Beach’ and a crooked original version of closing track ‘Corner House’, the vibe was prophetic “like the ending of Grease as Danny and Sandy take flight through the clouds”, letting their imaginations fly. The songs were the catalyst to spark a new phase of the pair working together, picking up where they left off. “From messing about with sounds during rehearsals in the very beginning it was always clear we liked the combination of sounds we made,” Leonore recalls.
Powered by a ‘try anything’ approach, Co-Pilot blends the musical DNA of what you’ve come to expect from each of the pair’s previous flight paths. “Whatever is switched on or nearby gets used. There's no 'correct' for us. If it sounds good, record it,” Al tells. United through typically turbulent wonky pop and lurking samples, whether culled from 70s TV themes or recreations of past and found sounds (see Al’s 60s tropicalia guitar on ‘Brick’, or the innocent ‘Swim to Sweden’ which opens with an ice cream van jingle Al recorded from his bedroom window) their process offers up a bucket load of Easter eggs. The album even features snippets from dearly departed pal Batfinks whilst ‘Motosaka’ is perhaps the most expensive 2-minutes on the album, featuring a Columbia Records Japan-cleared sample of Ryuichi Sakamoto’s ‘Thousand Knives’. Its synth squelches and Tom Tom Club funk also received the blessing of Haroumi Hosono, Godfather of Japanese Electronica, who agreed to being sampled in an original version of the song. “We just kept listening back and hitting gold,” Al recalls. “I was thinking ‘yeah, not sure what this is but I like it! We were buzzing with what we had made.”
But the sound wouldn’t come without self-imposed instrumental challenges. Thanks to an old mellotron sample on ‘Move To It,’ the moog riff and nautical accordion breaks on ‘Swim To Sweden’ and the 6/8 and 7/8 jaunt of ‘Brick’, time signatures were lovingly skewed to create Co-Pilot’s unique mood. “It was a bastard getting the drums right,” Leonore reveals, “but I like the wonkiness”. Levelling up through the lyrics, the words of smoky and evocative ‘She Walks In Beauty’ are based on a Lord Byron poem, with the sentiment of remembering Leonore’s late grandparents. “I wanted to see how much I could get away with just singing on one note, and how I could harmonically change everything else around it vocally,” she says. Elsewhere ‘Can You See’ was written from the perspective of a concerned sister to a brother which tells of keeping someone safe. “The lyrics are quite metaphorical about day-to-day happenings, people loved and lost. Others are rhythmic nonsense! It’s up to the listener to figure out what’s true.”
It’s clear from Al’s productive production techniques and Leonore’s knack for vocals and lyricism, Co-Pilot’s course is engineered by two aeronautically adept sonic storytellers. “We share a pretty similar sense of humour,” Al tells, “It is funny listening to this quite serious album but knowing we were giggling as we recorded it all. It’s been great to have another brain to bounce off.” Their destination might be unknown, but the clouds are about to part for a sound that is light years ahead. “You'll like at least one song,” Leonore suggests, “and hopefully them all.”

One day, you wake up with a cloud in your head. You feel out of place and uninspired, and juggle so many worries the balance is skewed. That was Armin van Buuren three years ago. He put so much love and passion into his work and found it hard to cope with the fact that not everyone can be pleased. Something needed to change. So, he reformed his life routines, took up meditation to calm the storm and did everything he could to negate the numbness. And what he ended up with was a newfound love for music and an incredible three-part album: Feel Again.

From "No Fun" and "Computers Take Over The World" to "One More Time", "Come Around Again" and "Roll The Dice", the Feel Again album sonically represents the journey of an artist extraordinaire radically looking for harmony within himself. Its 34 tracks may be different in terms of sound, but together, they reflect an equilibrium that could only come from a man in balance.

From reconnecting to friends, family, and fans to finding inner peace, Feel Again means acknowledging harsh truths, finding out what really matters and letting that power a new step forward. Because in the evergreen words of Armin van Buuren himself, “we're still learning and will never stop learning till the day we die”.

Feel Again is available as a deluxe limited edition box set, including 3 LP's, which are housed in printed innersleeves. The set also includes 5 exclusive Armin van Buuren lithos. This deluxe boxset is limited to 3000 individually numbered copies on turquoise marbled (LP1), white marbled (LP2), and orange marbled (LP3) vinyl.

First-ever reissue of the 1988 album. Gatefold LP includes new and restored artwork and a chapbook, featuring forty-eight pages of lyrics, essays, photographs, and Gordon's extraordinary drawings for each song. The Choctaw, Assiniboine, and Texan poet, journalist, visual artist, American Indian Movement activist, and musician Roxy Gordon (First Coyote Boy) (1945-2000) was above all a storyteller, known primarily as a writer of inimitable style and unvarnished candor, whose wide-ranging work encompassed poetry, short fiction, essays, memoirs, journalism, and criticism. Over the course of his career he recorded six albums, wrote six books, and published hundreds of shorter texts in outlets ranging from Rolling Stone and The Village Voice to the Coleman Chronicle and Democrat-Voice, in addition to founding and operating, with his wife Judy Gordon, Wowapi Press and the underground country music journal Picking Up the Tempo. Along the way he cultivated close friendships with fellow Texan songwriters such as Lubbockites Terry Allen, Butch Hancock, and Tommy X. Hancock, as well as Ray Wylie Hubbard, Billy Joe Shaver, and, most famously, Townes Van Zandt, whom he called his brother. Although his work covered a vast array of topics exploring strata personal, local, global, and cosmic alike, Gordon's primary subject as a writer, musician, and visual artist was always American Indian culture, specifically the ways it collided and coexisted with European American culture in the South and West-and within the context of his own life and braided identity. The ten songs on Crazy Horse Never Died, his first officially released and distributed album, were recorded in Dallas in 1988. "Songs" is perhaps an imprecise taxonomy for what Roxy captured on this and his other albums, all of which remain out of print or were released in instantly obscure limited editions of homebrew cassettes and CD-R's. (Paradise of Bachelors plans to reissue remastered, expanded editions of his catalog; Crazy Horse is the first.) He only occasionally attempted to sing, and his musical recordings are primarily corollaries of, and vehicles for, his poems. His sharp West Texan drawl, tinged by formative years of reservation living in Montana and unmistakable once you hear it-high, lonesome, flat, and cold-blooded as a bare rusty blade-instead patiently unfurls in skewed sheets of anecdotal verse and discursive narrative rants. Although Gordon's music at times incorporated powwow style drumming, fiddling, or unaccompanied ballad singing, the majority of it hews to an idiosyncratic spoken word style, accompanied by atmospheric, sometimes synth-damaged country-rock that skirts ambient textures and postpunk deconstructions. His songs are essentially recitations over backing tracks of finger picked guitars, rubbery washtub bass, and buzzing, oscillating keyboards. On the stark yellow and red jacket of Crazy Horse, which he designed himself, Gordon describes these recordings as innately ambivalent in terms of form, content, and identity: These are poems and/or songs about the American West, white and Indian. My life has been Indian and/or white. Maybe there's not a lot of difference-maybe. I guess that's mostly according to which white person or which Indian you're talking about. That's probably what this album's about. Crazy Horse Never Died comprises songs that span the personal and political arcs of his writing practice and the poles of his native and white ancestries.

Abstraxion once again delivers another twist to his exotic musical tale with "Trance Body Music". A four track collection of 90’s-infused club rockets. Hi-NRG sounds that traverse the trance-techno-rave intersection.
Lead single ‘Whole’ is a distorted and relentless number that hammers along with skewed vocal chops and lashings of bounce. ‘Gold’ however, is a more pushy heads-down affair. It's ramped BPM and vocals muster dewy-eyed Bonzaimemories, whilst harnessing the free spirit of the resurging eurodance movement.
Next out of the rave cannon comes ‘Force’, with its fierce tempo, jittering synth stabs and playful melody working together to create a tidy dancefloor moment. The show is brought to a close with the bubbling title track Trance Body Music. A perfect, almost soothing, finale to a wonderfully energetic adventure.

Civilistjävel! returns to Copenhagen label FELT with a four track EP following on from 2022's Järnnätter album.

Equally well placed next to the Biosphere / early Fax +49-69/450464 camp as well as various decades of electro-acoustic drone practitioners, Fyra platser (Four Places) also includes a trip-hop leaning collaboration with Cucina Povera. Whilst Järnnätter drew influence from the cyclical, chasmic nature of dub techno, Fyra platser hones further in on the ‘between’ areas in a minimal, reductivist fashion. The rhythms are there to follow but are primarily beatless and more expansive, though skewing perceptions of time in the same trademark manner.

Three locations in the Nordingrå area of the Swedish high coast are exorcised and channelled through sound. ‘Kolugn’ is a deliberately grainy, sepia-tinged continuation of the likes of Robert Rutman’s work across the 70s American avant-garde. It sits in contrast to the more obviously synthesis-led direction of fellow longform piece ‘Valmsta’. The location slowly changes to Finland via Athens, scenes of cafe conversations and hazy polaroids informing the lyrics of ‘Louhivesi’. The result sounds like a 90s illbient record dropped around 30 bpm and the stylus has caught on a perennial 8-bar loop. The balance of Cucina Povera’s cold, reverb-heavy vocal inflections drive the track into another dimension. If Moral were the Scandi Joy Division, this pairing must be the Scandi Massive Attack.

Kate NV's WOW offers listeners a prismatic shift in perspective and scale, a parallel dimension in which the mundane becomes funny, unfamiliar, and altogether sensational. Turning the contents of her 2020 album Room for the Moon upside down and spilling them across a floor checkered with intrigue and surprise, Kate places sound, object, and ritual under the microscope to magnify the delight hidden in plain sight of everyday life. WOW is Kate Shilonosova's fourth full-length release as Kate NV in six years, and third for RVNG Intl. Her prolific musical output aligns with a highly attuned aesthetic and a deep commitment to visual world building. WOW is one of many of these worlds in which music is fully saturated with color, deeply tactile and textural. Shiny, sproingy, plastic. Where Room for the Moon embraced structure (abstractly speaking) and veered pop, WOW happily abandons conventional song shapes, parsing the experience of musical time into ecstatic fragments. It's difficult to imagine a more fitting album title: pure exclamation, an organic pitch of delight leaving the mouth, with no clear etymological links. On Room for the Moon, Shilonosova's voice was layered and lyrical, with sweeping and urgent melodies. WOW finds her as a peripheral purveyor of high jinks, peeking out from the corners, commenting on her surroundings in non-verbal, and arguably non-human, utterances. Instead of employing lyricism, Shilonosova steps outside of language, and rewards us with a gum ball machine of textures: soda fizz and wind-up teeth and scraps of bubble wrap become comically huge, as if heard from an insect's perspective. Words are tasty plosives, onomatopoeias, percussive chirps and one-liners, and singing serves as another form of what Shilonosova refers to as "funny tiny sounds." WOW skews and skitters, trips over its own feet and laughs about it, plays out of tune on purpose, tilts and leans like a top-heavy flower. Shilonosova is a longtime user of Found Sound Nation's Broken Orchestra sample pack, a sound catalog of over one thousand dilapidated instruments sourced from Philadelphia public schools. These perfectly imperfect instruments are tightly spliced into WOW's patchwork of synthesizer and reworked snippets of Shilonosova's friends playing clarinet, flute, and marimba. It's central to the record's internal logic: a disregard for what is, and isn't, broken, what is, and isn't, a sentence or a song. A commingling of subject and object, with a firmly new wave sensibility. Shilonosova has long had an unusual relationship with inanimate objects (citing her bicycle as her best friend), as if the joys they evoke for her are personality traits of the objects themselves. On WOW, she evinces a kind of inverted anthropomorphism: she shrinks her voice and becomes an object among multitudes, toylike in size and perspective, cohabitating with sedentary, indifferent roommates. This pursuit of childlike perspectives is a thread that runs through much of her catalog, and places her work on a plane with that of her personal hero Nobukazu Takemura, who for decades has treated his music as a portal to childlike curiosity, both in subject matter and tone. With an invitation to pursue this curiosity, WOW further confirms Kate NV's deeply inventive, fluid and technically dizzying artistry. By refusing constraints and rules, Shilonosova embodies a profound freedom, allowing objects, sounds, and processes to unfold organically; or, as she puts it, a commitment to "accepting randomness." She succeeds terrifically at a breed of auditory defamiliarization that is all her own, and the rewards for listeners are many: through her lens, the small becomes monstrous, the abstract becomes sensorial, and the old becomes new. Kate NV's WOW will be released on February 10, 2023 on vinyl and digital formats. On behalf of Kate NV and RVNG, a portion of the proceeds from this release will benefit War Child, an organization that supports children and their families impacted by conflict, and working to build sustainable peace for generations to come.

Yellow Vinyl

Kate NV's WOW offers listeners a prismatic shift in perspective and scale, a parallel dimension in which the mundane becomes funny, unfamiliar, and altogether sensational. Turning the contents of her 2020 album Room for the Moon upside down and spilling them across a floor checkered with intrigue and surprise, Kate places sound, object, and ritual under the microscope to magnify the delight hidden in plain sight of everyday life. WOW is Kate Shilonosova's fourth full-length release as Kate NV in six years, and third for RVNG Intl. Her prolific musical output aligns with a highly attuned aesthetic and a deep commitment to visual world building. WOW is one of many of these worlds in which music is fully saturated with color, deeply tactile and textural. Shiny, sproingy, plastic. Where Room for the Moon embraced structure (abstractly speaking) and veered pop, WOW happily abandons conventional song shapes, parsing the experience of musical time into ecstatic fragments. It's difficult to imagine a more fitting album title: pure exclamation, an organic pitch of delight leaving the mouth, with no clear etymological links. On Room for the Moon, Shilonosova's voice was layered and lyrical, with sweeping and urgent melodies. WOW finds her as a peripheral purveyor of high jinks, peeking out from the corners, commenting on her surroundings in non-verbal, and arguably non-human, utterances. Instead of employing lyricism, Shilonosova steps outside of language, and rewards us with a gum ball machine of textures: soda fizz and wind-up teeth and scraps of bubble wrap become comically huge, as if heard from an insect's perspective. Words are tasty plosives, onomatopoeias, percussive chirps and one-liners, and singing serves as another form of what Shilonosova refers to as "funny tiny sounds." WOW skews and skitters, trips over its own feet and laughs about it, plays out of tune on purpose, tilts and leans like a top-heavy flower. Shilonosova is a longtime user of Found Sound Nation's Broken Orchestra sample pack, a sound catalog of over one thousand dilapidated instruments sourced from Philadelphia public schools. These perfectly imperfect instruments are tightly spliced into WOW's patchwork of synthesizer and reworked snippets of Shilonosova's friends playing clarinet, flute, and marimba. It's central to the record's internal logic: a disregard for what is, and isn't, broken, what is, and isn't, a sentence or a song. A commingling of subject and object, with a firmly new wave sensibility. Shilonosova has long had an unusual relationship with inanimate objects (citing her bicycle as her best friend), as if the joys they evoke for her are personality traits of the objects themselves. On WOW, she evinces a kind of inverted anthropomorphism: she shrinks her voice and becomes an object among multitudes, toylike in size and perspective, cohabitating with sedentary, indifferent roommates. This pursuit of childlike perspectives is a thread that runs through much of her catalog, and places her work on a plane with that of her personal hero Nobukazu Takemura, who for decades has treated his music as a portal to childlike curiosity, both in subject matter and tone. With an invitation to pursue this curiosity, WOW further confirms Kate NV's deeply inventive, fluid and technically dizzying artistry. By refusing constraints and rules, Shilonosova embodies a profound freedom, allowing objects, sounds, and processes to unfold organically; or, as she puts it, a commitment to "accepting randomness." She succeeds terrifically at a breed of auditory defamiliarization that is all her own, and the rewards for listeners are many: through her lens, the small becomes monstrous, the abstract becomes sensorial, and the old becomes new. Kate NV's WOW will be released on February 10, 2023 on vinyl and digital formats. On behalf of Kate NV and RVNG, a portion of the proceeds from this release will benefit War Child, an organization that supports children and their families impacted by conflict, and working to build sustainable peace for generations to come.

Dublin-based producer Moving Still further blends both his Saudi Arabian and Irish heritage on 'Kalam Hub', a triumphant new EP that marks the fifth release on CWPT/Cooking With Palms Trax. Following a series of 12” edits and original productions that have put his sounds in the record bags of DJs including Hunee, Nabihah Iqbal and Esa Williams, 'Kalam Hub' presents an ambitious expansion of the Moving Still sound, delving into his identity and background to open up imaginative, universal new corners for club culture.

This potent musicality is immediately evident from the first notes of 'Kunafa King'. Taking its title from a traditional Arabic dessert, analogue midi sounds deliver a skewed take on the traditional Saudi rhythms of the artist's youth, before expanding into a wistful diversion for any self-respecting dance floor. It's a trick Moving Still pulls off again on the pulsing 'Hayati 89', which transforms from a traditional aesthetic into a blistering, neon-tinted Italo banger, the kind of track designed to compliment an accelerated spin in the car gracing the eye-catching cover of ‘Kalam Hub’, a collaboration with the artist alongside Manchester-based graphic design studio, Dr. Me.

Concluding the record's A-side, the rhythms take a trippier turn for the duration of 'La Titasil Feeya'. Translating to “don't call me!” and making sonic reference to teenage years immersed in rock, metal and general angst, it unfolds as something akin to Middle East-tinted techno with a formidable kick drum, before exploding in colourful, organic breakbeats. Immediately on the flip, the sense of wonder returns in a sonic mirage for 'My Bosa Is For You', weightless rhythms blending with an electric organ and charming, lightly psychedelic breakdowns.

Further sonic tricks fall from Moving Still's delicately-tailored sleeves on 'Haram Odyssey', where an almost impossibly tight bass line provides the function for contrasting synthesis and unpredictable percussion, drawing parallels between the sometimes confusing aspects of the artist's dual-cultural life as a child, through to the music he makes as an adult. Fittingly, the record concludes with ‘Kalam Hub', a triumph of minimalist percussion and traditional instrumentation that pays tender tribute to the Moving Still's grandmother, translating simply to “Love Talk”.

Swedish alternative rock group Omni of Halos enters the stage with their
self-titled debut album Omni of Halos, a guitar-driven explosion of noisy
pop music, contains the four tracks from the 2022 EP Care Free
(previously only released digitally) from plus six new, until now
unreleased songs
This collection of skewed, bittersweet, and beautiful tracks was recorded and
produced by Per Steberg (Division of Laura Lee, Pablo Matisse, etc) in Welfare
Studios. Offering a unique mixture of distinct vocals, vibrant rhythms, and rich
pedal steel guitar melodies, Omni of Halos stands out from its kind while still
communicating a sound firmly rooted in the expressive soundscapes of the
alternative '80s and '90s.The album was mixed by John Agnello, known for his
work with Dinosaur JR, Sonic Youth, and Kurt Vile, to name a few. The band
comments: We just wanted to play massive indie rock with no limitations or
influences says singer, guitarist and songwriter Henrik Hjelt Rostberg. "We aim to
be a hard- working band, stay on the road and accomplish memorable live
performances where our music is at its best."
The artwork for the album was illustrated by Sebastian Murphy (Viagra Boys) -
Recorded and produced by Per Stalberg (Division of Laura Lee, Pablo Matisse),
and mixed by John Agnello (Dinosaur JR, Sonic Youth, Kurt Vile, Mark Lanegan,
Nada Surf, Violent Femmes, Chavez). - Band members have previously been seen
in bands as: Division of Laura Lee, Bombus, Sparks of Seven, De Lyckliga
Kompisarna, Speed of Sound Enterprise, Firebreather, - Colorful, noisy music
derived from skewed, guitar-driven melodies, bringing the Alternative Rock of the
90's back to life.
Omni of Halos contains the four tracks from the band's 2022 EP Care Free plus
six new, until now unreleased songs. - The vinyl is pressed on two coloured
editions (each limited to 500 copies). One edition on Yellow/ Red Splatter vinyl
and one edition on Transparent Green vinyl. - The album is released through
Lovely Records (Sweet Teeth, Rotten Mind, The Dahmers, True Moon, among
others)

Swedish alternative rock group Omni of Halos enters the stage with their
self-titled debut album Omni of Halos, a guitar-driven explosion of noisy
pop music, contains the four tracks from the 2022 EP Care Free
(previously only released digitally) from plus six new, until now
unreleased songs
This collection of skewed, bittersweet, and beautiful tracks was recorded and
produced by Per Steberg (Division of Laura Lee, Pablo Matisse, etc) in Welfare
Studios. Offering a unique mixture of distinct vocals, vibrant rhythms, and rich
pedal steel guitar melodies, Omni of Halos stands out from its kind while still
communicating a sound firmly rooted in the expressive soundscapes of the
alternative '80s and '90s.The album was mixed by John Agnello, known for his
work with Dinosaur JR, Sonic Youth, and Kurt Vile, to name a few. The band
comments: We just wanted to play massive indie rock with no limitations or
influences says singer, guitarist and songwriter Henrik Hjelt Rostberg. "We aim to
be a hard- working band, stay on the road and accomplish memorable live
performances where our music is at its best."
The artwork for the album was illustrated by Sebastian Murphy (Viagra Boys) -
Recorded and produced by Per Stalberg (Division of Laura Lee, Pablo Matisse),
and mixed by John Agnello (Dinosaur JR, Sonic Youth, Kurt Vile, Mark Lanegan,
Nada Surf, Violent Femmes, Chavez). - Band members have previously been seen
in bands as: Division of Laura Lee, Bombus, Sparks of Seven, De Lyckliga
Kompisarna, Speed of Sound Enterprise, Firebreather, - Colorful, noisy music
derived from skewed, guitar-driven melodies, bringing the Alternative Rock of the
90's back to life.
Omni of Halos contains the four tracks from the band's 2022 EP Care Free plus
six new, until now unreleased songs. - The vinyl is pressed on two coloured
editions (each limited to 500 copies). One edition on Yellow/ Red Splatter vinyl
and one edition on Transparent Green vinyl. - The album is released through
Lovely Records (Sweet Teeth, Rotten Mind, The Dahmers, True Moon, among
others)

In the world of heavy music, few bands embrace dynamics and negative
space like Kowloon Walled City - Since forming 15 years ago, the band
has increasingly refined its deconstructed approach to noise rock, math
rock, and doom.Now, with Piecework (Neurot Recordings/Gilead Media),
the band's fourth album and first in six years, Kowloon Walled City
reaches new levels of restraint
Songs are bleak and slow, but also shorter and more concise. (Seven songs clock
in at about 30 minutes.) There are stretches of near silence. While the band has
always operated under the MO that less is more, it has doubled down on that
ethos for Piecework. Singer/ guitarist Scott Evans and guitarist Jon Howell, the
main songwriters, self- imposed restrictions to push themselves creatively
"restraining ourselves into oblivion," as Howell put it. Songs are written in more
straightforward time signatures. Evans and Howell also changed their guitar rigs
to sound more "clean and clanky."
With the gristle stripped away, bone and muscle remain: drums decaying in a
room, bass strings rattling, a lonely guitar chord. Sometimes, it's almost
uncomfortably barren. But the negative space also amplifies the ruptures of
heady aggressiveness that anchor Piecework. Angular guitar notes from Howell
skew off the neck, dissolving into space. Ian Miller's bass lines churn in the muck.
Drums and cymbal smashing by Dan Sneddon punctuate dead air. (Sneddon,
formerly of Early Graves, makes his recording debut with the band five years after
joining.) There's sadness and anger in Evans' shouted vocals, but also a desire for
something better.
Through the resignation and regret, Piecework also hints at perseverance and
hope. Pressed on Milky White color vinyl.

red/clear splatter vinyl

Shake Chain will also be performing at Marina Abramovic’s private view at Modern Art Oxford on September 23rd.

Shake Chain have been busy demolishing audiences and expectations for the best part of three years. Vocalist Kate Mahony sets that standard by starting each live performance by crawling from the back of the room through a disbelieving crowd’s legs in a shiny yellow raincoat. The resulting questions that frantically arise of ‘what’s going on?’, ‘am I hallucinating?’ and ‘is this part of the show?’ are hallmarks of how Shake Chain approach making their unruly, lyric-bespattered rock music.

The four-piece from London are completed by Robert Syres (guitar, synth), Chris Hopkins (bass, synth) and Joe Fergey (drums), all artists hailing from Goldsmiths College, Nottingham Trent and Wimbledon, University of the Arts. A mutual love of thought-provoking performance art and a yearning for disruption have helped Shake Chain lock into their wayward sound. Twitchy guitar lines jolt and jerk, synths burble noisily and tack-sharp drums pin things down for Kate’s reeling vocal to vault and slur. Kate’s singing has drawn comparisons with Yoko Ono, Su Tissue and even a seance with it’s unique embrace of flights of atonal fancy, head-first repetition and ecstatic frenzy. Opinion-dividing arguably, but singular in making Shake Chain dauntingly brilliant.

Shake Chain’s debut album ‘Snake Chain’ was recorded in the New Forest’s Chuckalumba Studios early in 2022. The tranquil setting only slightly skewed by the intense extratropical cyclone occuring outside. When asked to sum up the album the group collectively settled on it sounding like “crying in a Catholic sex dungeon with Eastenders on”, perhaps only half tongue in cheek given the soapy dramatics of opening track ‘Stace’. ‘RU’ is a stompy triumph of ad lib monotony, heavy and wonky, its vocal slowly unwinding into residual sense. Shake Chain’s songs are populated with cowboys, cherry-pickers, content-addicts, private investments, a careless driver called Mike, architects and by much lamentation at the state of our confusing existencies. This last point underlined in luminous marker pen with slow-building vortex ‘Highly Conpeptual’ and whispered closer ‘Duck’.

‘Copy Me’ races along with radiant headbangs of dynamic abandon, one part tumble, two parts pummel, “hold your breath til something changes” commands Kate whilst everything of course is in hammering flux. ‘Second Home’ is similarly coruscating yet bouyant, whilst ‘Arthur’ feels like it could tear inside in two amid sobbing wails and the twining of its disparate parts. Throughout all the unhinged freakouts, found sounds and blasting rhythms though is Kate’s questioning, resilient presence, anchoring everything. On bruising creeper ‘Birthday’ she asks most tellingly “Do we speak language or does language speak us? Is there a mouth in the middle of the desert? Do you ask how cups are designed? Would you say yes when you really mean I don’t know”? Shake Chain are cathartic and absurd, humorous and deadly serious yet always inspired. Its this tightrope walk which makes their album such a thrilling, vital listen.

Black Truffle is pleased to announce Uri Katzenstein’s Audio Works, produced in collaboration with Holon’s Centre for Digital Art. Spanning sculptural installation, performance, video art, and many other media, Katzenstein’s absurdist, poetic, and often hilarious work made extensive use of sound and music. This, however, is the first release dedicated to the artist’s audio work, collecting 28 tracks produced between the early 1980s and 2017. Compiled from dozens of hours of recordings left uncatalogued (and in some instances unheard) at the artist’s death in 2018, these four sides are a treasure trove, offering a captivating glimpse into a uniquely uninhibited creative practice. Predominantly recorded alone, with some contributions from regular collaborators such as Ohad Fishof on the later pieces, many of these tracks stem from Katzenstein’s time living in New York in the 1980s. Feeding on the cross-pollination of post-punk energy, radical art practice, and new media possibilities that characterised the New York scene at this time, many of Katzenstein’s recordings squeeze multilayered vocal experimentation into synth-based miniatures with a distinctively pop twist, their forms ruptured with anarchic bursts of free-form electronics, sounds from self-built instruments, and field-recorded snatches of the outside world. Katzenstein’s electronic production calls up touchstones of skewed 80s art pop like Laurie Anderson, Ambitious Lovers, and Scritti Politti, but imbued with DIY directness and economy of means. The arrangements of synths, percussion, and noise elements are invigoratingly raw and, at times, almost austerely minimal. On ‘Intermission’, thick distorted chords accompany a wandering portamento melody, inhabiting the wayward carnival space of Roedelius’ most unhinged efforts. Many of the tracks centre on Katzenstein’s multi-tracked vocal performances, often moving between multiple languages, (most commonly English, German, French, and Hebrew). A bewildering range of vocal approaches are present on these pieces, from sweet wordless harmonies to hammed-up growls and monastic recitations. On ‘Skin O. Daayba – Complex Habits no. 3’, improvised resonance singing against a backdrop of echoing electronics and radio snatches. ‘Half Monk Half Herring’ layers multi-lingual syllabic fragments, crossing sound poetry techniques with melodic invention in a way rarely heard outside of Caetano Veloso’s Araçá Azul. On ‘Attempt to Raise Hell’, Katzenstein’s distorted voice spits out streams of alliterative nonsense (‘the hemlock of Henry, he was a hermit…purple pumpkin pulsates to pops’), while on the hilarious ‘Eric’, Katzenstein appears to instruct a small boy simultaneously in basic French and German conversation. On ‘Chicken’, vocal harmonies accompany the pecking and clucking of the titular fowl. Moving from bent, outsider synth pop to snatches of Jo Jones-esque automated instrumental clang and absurdist linguistic experiments, these are far more than footnotes to an artist’s gallery works. Accompanied by extensive, beautifully written liner notes by Roee Rosen and the little information that exists on the individual tracks, Katzenstein’s Audio Works inhabits an outer fringe of DIY pop and sonic experiment reminiscent of Pascal Comelade or Die Welttraumforscher, where accessible forms convey radical interrogations of song, word, and sound.