Buscar:slow to speak

Hip-hop legend Rakim is breaking new ground with his upcoming studio album, G.O.D.'S NETWORK (REB7RTH), by flexing his skills both on the mic and behind the boards. Widely lauded as the best lyricist of all time, The God MC himself is blessing the culture with the next step in his historic career.

“I feel like the battery in my back has been reenergized,” Rakim said about his new album, which arrives nearly four decades after the release of his classic debut with Eric B., Paid In Full. Since then, he’s continued to shape the landscape and culture of hip-hop as we know it, inspiring rising artists with his hype live shows and incredible studio albums. And while he’s produced some of his previous work—notably “Don’t Sweat the Technique,” “Juice (Know The Ledge),” and “Paid In Full”—this feels like new territory for the 18th Letter, whose production and scratching talents are nothing short of remarkable.

G.O.D.'S NETWORK (REB7RTH) is proof that Rakim is truly one of the most special artists we’ve known not just in hip-hop, but all of music. You can tell he feels that level of praise when speaking about the genesis of the album. “Having the ability to showcase my talents behind the boards coupled with the elite lyricism the world already knows and gives me infinite praise for alongside some of the best talents to ever do it is truly a blessing and for that I am humbled,” he said.

Rakim is more than an official triple-threat as an artist, because he’s also showing off skills as a curator. On this album’s seven tracks, he enlists a who’s-who of top hip-hop talent, including the dearly departed Nipsey Hussle, Fred the Godson, DMX, and Prodigy (of Mobb Deep). Rakim also linked with many of his contemporaries, such as Snoop Dogg, Method Man, KXNG Crooked, B.G., and Kool G. Rap, among others.

The album’s first single, “Be Ill,” is the perfect introduction, as it pairs Rakim’s raw rhymes and head-nodding production with slick guest features from Kurupt and Masta Killa. Elsewhere, Rakim slows it down for the soulful “Love Is The Message,” which features Nipsey Hussle, Planet Asia, Louis King, Snoop Dogg, Sally Green, Kobe Honeycutt, and the LA Grand Choir. And then there’s the chest-thumping “International,” a straight-up slapper with hard-hitting rhymes from Kool G. Rap, Tristate, and Joell Ortiz.

For fans of hip-hop, and especially of Rakim’s storied discography, there is so much to love on this record. You can hear his hunger as an emcee and producer on every track, as well as his desire to collaborate with so many respected artists. Despite having decades in the game and many classics to his name, it feels like Rakim is just getting started.

While the world awaits the July 26th release date, fans can catch Rakim performing live throughout the US from now until the end of year in support of G.O.D.S Network (REB7RTH). In addition to debuting new material, he’ll be performing all the classics from his beloved catalog.

Kumio Kurachi is a Japanese singer-songwriter who has been active since the 1980's.

This is his 11th solo album and only the second to be released outside of Japan following ‘Sound of Turning Earth’ (2018) on bison. Though his songs are written and performed primarily on guitar, “Open Today” is a return to Kurachi’s full, multi-instrumental recording style - featuring drums, bass, strings, keys and Kurachi’s rich, distinctive vocals in multiple voicings. Incredibly, all instrumental performances and arrangements were performed and recorded by Kurachi himself - marking a brilliant return to the fully fleshed out visionary world we fell in love with on Supermarket Chitose (Enban, 2006). The super fine detail and dense landscapes of ‘Open Today’ should come as no surprise really - Kurachi is an illustrator by trade and it bleeds right through to his music. Even to the non-native speaker Kurachi’s vocals hold centre stage - at times enormous and thundering over urgent guitar and toms, then switching to softly spoken words amongst keys. Frequently Kurachi multiplies, whether multitracking himself or summoning voices for the characters he writes from sightings on train platforms or supermarkets. His lyrics - translated to English for both formats - are more like poetry, and though written about the mundane they quickly become surreal, bringing the quality of dreams into the everyday. The hours spent on buses, trains or walking home towards a cheap flat - familiar to us all - are catalysts for microcosms of detail.

Again, we shouldn’t be surprised - Kurachi is well known in Japan for winning the national championship of NHK's "Poetry Boxing" in 2002, which also might explain his amazing Discogs photo. Poet, illustrator, multi-instrumentalist - Kurachi is thought of by many as a genius. He’s worked with Jim O’Rourke, Tori Kudo, Eiko Ishibashi and Taku Unami (who did the mastering on this LP). There are lines to be drawn between Kurachi and Kazuki Tomokawa or Kan Mikami, but also Francis Plagne and Fairport Convention.

Ultimately though there is nothing else like it - it’s a brand of strange songcraft that’s totally captivating.

Naoki Zushi. Perhaps best known for his stellar guitar contributions to psych folk group, Nagisa Ni Te, Zushi has had a parallel career, for several decades, slowly releasing solo albums that spotlight his exultant guitar playing. Originally released to CD only by Shinji Shibayama of Nagisa Ni Te’s Org imprint in 2018, IV has Zushi playing and writing at a peak, its six songs slowly unfurling with a kind of paradoxical understated grandeur. This is psychedelic guitar music at its most paced and considered, yet given to flights of inspiration, and in this respect, Zushi sits within a lineage of guitarists who’ve used their instrument both as textural anchor and improvisatory tool – think of figures like Phil Manzanera and Robert Fripp, but also Roy Montgomery, Liz Harris of Grouper, even Tom Verlaine on his instrumental solo albums. Like those artists, Zushi locates moments of deep emotional resonance amidst luxuriant textural and melodic exploration. Zushi’s history stretches back to the mid 1970s. While for many, he first appeared on the scene as a founding member of noise legends Hijokaidan, alongside Jojo Hiroshige, his musical contributions predate that encounter. He started out playing progressive rock and improvised music, making home recordings of when he was in high school. He was a member of Rasenkaidan (Spiral Staircase) alongside Hiroshige and Idiot (Kenichi Takayama), the group that soon mutated into Hijokaidan (Emergency Staircase). Zushi and Takayama would soon form Idiot O’Clock, in 1982; Zushi also led his own Naoki Zushi Unit, starting in 1983. But for many, Zushi’s first significant appearance on record was as a member of Shinji Shibayama’s mid-eighties psych-pop group, Hallelujahs, whose sole album was recently reissued on vinyl. That group mutated into Nagisa Ni Te, and Zushi has played a significant role as their lead guitarist for several decades. His own solo music has appeared sporadically – Paradise (1987), Phenomenal Luciferin (1998), III (2005) and IV, with a few recent, meditative offerings, For My Friends’ Sleep (2021) and Nocturnes (2022). With IV, though, Zushi achieved something remarkable, a kind of extended exploration of the time-altering properties of echoplexed, hypnotically spiralling guitar interplay. The opening ‘Mirror’, “a song about the mirror inside me,” Zushi explains, starts out as a lush psych-folk song, slow and gentle, but soon takes to the skies with a cat’s cradle of Fripp-esque guitars, before thick, droning chords sweep the song to a drowsy coda. ‘Nocturne’ weaves silver skeins of guitar melody around a cyclical chord pattern; it gathers energy and quiet intensity through insistent repetition. The rest of the album explores the nuance Zushi can draw out of simple elements, building on what ‘Mirror’ and ‘Nocturne’ offer – the profundity of a chord change; the melancholy of a few quietly sighed words; the exhilaration of a guitar solo bursting out of the speakers; the subtle shifts in emotional register offered by tone and touch. Throughout, there’s something quiet, yet ineffable, shading the contours of the songs, such that it makes perfect sense when Zushi says, “What I want to express through music may be ‘sense of mystery’.” A few of the songs had their basic parts recorded at LM Studio and Studio Nemu with Shibayama and Masako Takeda joining on bass and drums, respectively; much of the album, however, was tracked at Zushi’s home studio. That seems appropriate for a collection of songs that are expansive in their intimacy. Asked what drove the sessions, Zushi answers, “I thought I’d make IV an album that particularly focuses on the guitar play.” And focus it does, as Zushi’s sky-scraping, soaring, elemental tone is front and centre throughout. But these are no guitar heroics; rather, Zushi uses the guitar as conduit and diviner, a tool for spirit location, and IV is his most eloquent expression yet of such singular magic.

We’re happy to cordially invite you to the REGRESSION SESSION, hosted by eternal Philadelphia scene flag bearers ZILLAS ON ACID!

And if you think this sounds awfully lot like a scam, you’re probably right: „Regression Session“ is just a front of their illegal black market operation, trading raw uncut gems on a large scale. Just listen to the opener and title track and you won’t exactly have a strong case for the Zillas selling out, but rough as it is, this thing is capable of destroying any dancefloor it touches.

Looking at their recent releases it’s fair to say the Z’s are on quite a run, putting out music on labels like Permanent Vacation, Throne Of Blood, Multi Culti or Ivan Smagghe’s Disques de la Mort. Tunes like the sneaky rough slow burners „Underling“ or „Start Digging“ sound like they could be lifted from the latter’s infamous DJ sets, while the deceptively titled „Cha Cha Cha“ or closer „Casual Observer“ justify the „Acid“ in the artist name. „Shining Snakes Across The Lake“ is what some years might have been called a mid-tempo house roller and probably counts as downtempo these days. Speaking of tempos, the penultimate „Sweet Days Of Discipline“ starts of masquerading as reaaally downtempo, but ends up throwing 155bpm kick drums at you, so better watch out, all you k-hole ravers! Let’s not forget to talk about „bquiet“, which is what you’d call mid-tempo house these days (125bpm) and uses the eternally banging combination of a jacking beat, a polyrhythmic bass line, some lead-synth stabs and talking vocal slices. You can practically smell the sweat.

So what’s left to say? What you see is what you get: They are Zillas, and they are on Acid. And they provide a collection of eight tunes that probably each don’t necessarily have a double-digit amount of tracks in their DAW projects, and that’s exactly what makes them so forceful. Join the regression session!

Body Meπa is the New York-based quartet of Greg Fox (drums), Sasha Frere-Jones (guitar), Melvin Gibbs (bass), and Grey McMurray (guitar). As luminaries in the intersecting traditions of improvised music, rock, jazz, fusion, and contemporary classical music, the four artists have each spent decades building diverse practices that extend beyond sound into multiple disciplines. Prayer in Dub, their second release on Hausu Mountain, follows the band’s 2020 album The Work Is Slow.

The album presents a band whose collective intuition as instrumentalists and live-in-the-room songwriters has deepened with each take that they put to tape. Prayer in Dub finds Body Meπa taking up new experiments with song structure and atmosphere, fanning out into a wide menu of both longer and more concise pieces that suggest deliberate shifts in energy and emotional resonance. The album presents a thrilling contrast between storms of precise rhythmic interplay and slowly expanding fields of multi-guitar and bass texture, alternately pushing the narrative toward explosive peaks of intensity and dipping into ambient expanses. Contemplative guitar lines, both bone dry and effected into total abstraction, ripple together over dub-indebted rhythm section grooves before shifting the dial towards beatific twang. Knotty distorted solos surge out of the fray over networks of arpeggios and drum fills.

On Prayer in Dub, Body Meπa pursues a strain of euphoria charged with elegiac grandeur and the looming potential to crumble at any moment under the psychic weight of confusion. It speaks to the band’s goals and general outlook that chaos never completely consumes their sessions. The band channels the kinetic energy of a “supergroup” of veteran musicians into communal works that evolve beyond their creators’ extensive pedigrees into new forms both intimate in sentiment and majestic in scope.

Body Meπa is the New York-based quartet of Greg Fox (drums), Sasha Frere-Jones (guitar), Melvin Gibbs (bass), and Grey McMurray (guitar). As luminaries in the intersecting traditions of improvised music, rock, jazz, fusion, and contemporary classical music, the four artists have each spent decades building diverse practices that extend beyond sound into multiple disciplines. Prayer in Dub, their second release on Hausu Mountain, follows the band’s 2020 album The Work Is Slow.

The album presents a band whose collective intuition as instrumentalists and live-in-the-room songwriters has deepened with each take that they put to tape. Prayer in Dub finds Body Meπa taking up new experiments with song structure and atmosphere, fanning out into a wide menu of both longer and more concise pieces that suggest deliberate shifts in energy and emotional resonance. The album presents a thrilling contrast between storms of precise rhythmic interplay and slowly expanding fields of multi-guitar and bass texture, alternately pushing the narrative toward explosive peaks of intensity and dipping into ambient expanses. Contemplative guitar lines, both bone dry and effected into total abstraction, ripple together over dub-indebted rhythm section grooves before shifting the dial towards beatific twang. Knotty distorted solos surge out of the fray over networks of arpeggios and drum fills.

On Prayer in Dub, Body Meπa pursues a strain of euphoria charged with elegiac grandeur and the looming potential to crumble at any moment under the psychic weight of confusion. It speaks to the band’s goals and general outlook that chaos never completely consumes their sessions. The band channels the kinetic energy of a “supergroup” of veteran musicians into communal works that evolve beyond their creators’ extensive pedigrees into new forms both intimate in sentiment and majestic in scope.

Robert Sotelo is a bedroom pop songsmith who lives in Glasgow. Sotelo has released six albums since 2017, three of which came out on Upset The Rhythm. He also performs in Order of the Toad, Dancer and Nightshift. Mary Currie is best known as half of touchstone DIY experimentalists Flaming Tunes, alongside Gareth Williams (of This Heat). Currie also performed in Officer! with Mick Hobbs amongst others.
Introduced via a mutual friend, Sotelo approached Currie last year about collaborating on four songs he was constructing with producer/electronic guru Joe Howe. This resulted in the ‘Dream Songs’ 7” EP (out October 4th on Upset The Rhythm).
Not only does the title capture the hazy, reflective nature of the music it also expounds on the origin of tracks. Sotelo experienced several lucid dreams in the first half of 2023 that left him in a state of confusion. He recalled visiting parts of London vividly, including a disused theatre of great familiarity, yet it slowly transpired that these places and circumstances were not real, much to Sotelo's disbelief.
These reveries informed the lyrical narrative of the four songs from the forthcoming EP. Currie took a similar approach with her lyrics, focusing on memory and time for her passages on the record. Currie recorded her parts in London (assisted by her good friend Alison Craig) and then sent them to Howe, alongside additional location recordings to consolidate into the mixes. These four tracks flutter with a minimalist bass, drum machine and keys dynamic, allowing Sotelo and Currie’s vocals to speak deeply into the back of your mind. ‘Expectations’ is a pensive triumph of whirled moments and momentum with Currie’s final words lending much gravity “the outcome of my days is always the same, a void that must be filled, a battle against time that drags us along; mutating, spinning, ebbing, flowing. Begin again, we work to give value to time.” ‘Telegraph Hill’ boasts a glossy fluidity, as it plays with images of motorways, ancient citadels, crows, paralysis and emanations. ‘Lady Fortune’ meanwhile is a tranquil treatise on fate, imbued with finessed electronic embellishments and clarinet flourishes. You can't quite trust where these songs will take you, they feel particularly mercurial. Dreams indeed.
‘Dream Songs’ by Robert Sotelo & Mary Currie will be released on October 4th, followed by some live performances from the band. These will include the aforementioned EP tracks, as well as recreated cuts from the Flaming Tunes era, leaning into happenstance rather aptly.

The Wild Classical Music Ensemble is a Belgian experimental rock band formed in 2007 by artists with mental disability within the social-artistic non-profit organisation Wit.h in Kortrijk. Their unique sound is a blend of punk/rock riffs, fanatical rhythms and soaring flutes and fiery synths, over which gravitate multiple, multilingual voices that scratch harshly as much as they comfort. There's something very Belgian about this harshness and noisiness. We often think of compadre Arno, from the TC Matic era. During the Covid crisis, the disabled members of the Wild Classical Music Ensemble were undoubtedly subjected more than others to the harsh conditions of confinement, alone in their rooms. Damien Magnette was still able to visit them with sound equipment. This was one of their all-too-few windows onto the world. Forbidden to meet, let alone play together, the members of Wild were nevertheless able to compose songs in tandem with Damien. The tracks were then sent to musician friends - Fabrice Gilbert, Ava Carrère, Wim Opbrouck, Shht, Arthur Satàn, Nathan Roche and Julien ZLDR - who added their artistic touch. Jean Lamoot and Carl Roosens joined the adventure, one as mixer, the other as video director. It's a result of the conditions under which it was created, this is the band's most highly-produced album, and perhaps its most accessible: frankly rock, with a great deal of freedom in production, and sometimes with a certain pop allure. Jean Lamoot's contribution to the mix had a lot to do with it. In addition, the forced slowdown allowed us to devote much more time and attention to writing the lyrics. Leader Damien Magnette says: "For over a year, we were all confined. But what about when you're a mentally handicapped person? Well, it's very different from you and me... We have the right to choose, the luxury of deciding for ourselves what rules we want to follow or not. We have free will. They don't. This series of confined songs is dedicated to all the people who have gone through this crisis, deprived of their free will. We send them our thoughts, hugs and kisses full of true love! The songs respond to a deep desire to look out for each other in adversity (the so obvious "Comment ça va?" by Johan Geenens and Wim Opbrouck, or "Waarom ben je boos" by Sébastien Faidherbe with Wim Decoene, the latter full of empathy). A sense of loneliness is logically present on the album ("Dat is mijn verdriet" by Linh Pham, a very real, very concrete and particularly touching poem, or "Loneliness", whose text was improvised by Wim), if not an understandable rage ("Je ne veux pas" and "My Frustrations"). It worth noting that on "On reste heureux", Sébastien Faidherbe composed all the parts in one go, with an optimism that stands out from the anger expressed in his other songs. Let's make no mistake: none of this is really over. All these emotions, suffering, pain and hope, speak to us far beyond this grim story of covid.

The Intima led a chameleon-like existence from 1999 to 2004, confounding critics who struggled to describe their distinctive sound while sharing stages with everyone from The Rapture to The Mekons. Hailing from Olympia and Portland, the postpunk quartet utilized sharp rhythms, prescient lyrics, and a collaborative compositional approach to conjure forth a sound that manages to be explosive yet detailed, experimental yet propulsive and melodic. Featuring a classically-trained violinist, custom-tuned guitars that careen at odd angles, and an imaginative and powerful rhythm section, the band explored the intersection of art-punk and agitpop with a spirit and tenor uniquely their own. In 2017, the Polish website More Noise summed up their sound by saying that "the first association that comes to mind is The Ex and the Dutch avant punk scene of the 1980s, but fans of the bands Dirty Three, Godspeed You Black Emperor and Unwound may also be intrigued."The group toured the States extensively during the 4+ years that they were active, including one grueling six-week tour undertaken just after 9/11 and another one in 2003 during which the US began bombing Iraq. The group's live sets are remembered for their combination of unbridled intensity and tightly-coiled musicianship, as well as their chaos potential, whether that chaos was performing in the middle of an illegal street party or causing a PA to burst into flames immediately preceding a headlining set by Deerhoof. A memorable show in DC with Q And Not U was mentioned by Dischord group Black Eyes in their Speaking In Tongues booklet last year, with Hugh McElroy describing the Intima as "a really aggressively-beautiful and poetic punk band with a violin where a guitar normally would be...pushing genre barriers in a way that helped me see a vision of how we might want to do that ourselves."Peril and Panic was recorded in Olympia over eight months in 2002 and was released in 2003 on LP (Zum/Collective Jyrk) and CD (Slowdance). In 2022, in the midst of the pandemic, the group commissioned Jason Powers to remix the original tracks from the ground up, which turned into an 18-month endeavor that included some compositional edits, significant work to improve the sound of the drums, and the uncovering of unreleased songs. Today, a fully remixed and remastered Peril and Panic is finally being released into the wild sounding much closer to how it was originally meant to be heard. Sounding more relevant than ever, it seems increasingly clear that the ideas and feelings that informed both band and album are no longer so "radical" - if anything, they've become the zeitgeist of today, as a confluence of global crises points to a fraught future long predicted.

When the world — and his previous band Star Tropics — crumbled in the early days of the pandemic, Chicago's Loren Vanderbilt began rebuilding himself through song. Daydreaming to the chime of IRS-era R.E.M., Felt, The Railway Children, New Order, and 90's staples like Ride, Pale Saints and Slowdive, he fell backwards in time through records as a means of escape. To break away from the present and embrace the nostalgia of musical eras gone by, Loren formed Humdrum — a band built around his favorite elements of dream-pop, indiepop, shoegaze, and new wave. On his debut album, "Every Heaven," Loren establishes himself as a talented songwriter and master of melody across 10 tracks brimming with jangly guitars and lovelorn vocals—all punctuated by the pulse of a driving beat. A deeper listen reveals a juxtaposition between the album's carefree melodies, and its sobering truths about the life, loss, and the questions of being a queer 30-something artist. With "Every Heaven" Humdrum has presented 10 songs that speak to life's dynamic moments. And they can't wait for you to hear them.

Forgetting You Is Like Breathing Water, the self-titled debut from the duo of trumpeter Will Evans and guitarist, synthesist, producer and multi-instrumentalist Theo Trump, arrives like a vault revelation. It feels like a decades-old yet newly unearthed masterwork of gorgeous ambient improvisation, the sort of thing scholars live to research and shepherd into deluxe reissue.

The patient, crystalline chords that swell and resonate like a series of confessions; the textured brass murmurs that suggest a ’60s or ’70s Fire Music master at their most poignant. Provocative found-sound experiments threading arcane religious recordings through dystopian soundscapes. Ear-shattering free-noise tumult. Where and when did this music come from? Who are these voices?

As it turns out, Forgetting You Is Like Breathing Water springs from an engrossing human story, though it isn’t necessarily the one you’d expect. This work of stunning maturity is in fact an entrance by two little-known explorers in their early 20s, who grew up together in Virginia, in the shadow of the Blue Ridge Mountains. It documents one of those perfect, sparkling moments in post-adolescence when big decisions and responsibilities are right around the corner, but for a spell, two young artists are able to create among the comforts and nostalgia of their shared past.

It also represents a reunion of sorts, as Evans and Trump connected as toddlers, became inseparable as boys, then pursued independent lives and creative paths as young adults. “Theo is my oldest friend,” Evans says, “and I feel like that’s what this band is — us meeting right in the middle of our interests.”

Now, having conjured this magic, they’ve detached once again: Evans, whose other works include the indie/avant-jazz unit Angelica X, is currently based in New York City. Trump recently moved to England, where he’d participated in his family’s theatre company, to go to school and further his solo ambient project. “This album didn’t start out as something super ambitious,” Evans explains. “It was more just an excuse to spend time together again and make music.”

***

In conversation, Evans and Trump are a delight, especially for cynics who might think that Gen-Z is only capable of doomscrolling. They come across as kindly young intellectuals who grew up using the internet as it was intended, for exposure to ideas and art across genres and generations. Trump points to indie-folk and the oracular post-rock of late Talk Talk, Bark Psychosis and Gastr del Sol. Pressed for his guitar heroes, he cites Bill Orcutt, Mary Halvorson and Marc Ribot, and mentions his devotion to alt-country. Heyday electro-industrial stuff like Skinny Puppy and Nine Inch Nails also meant a lot to him.

Evans is equally intrepid, though his background has a greater jazz focus. Ambrose Akinmusire, among today’s most thoughtfully commanding trumpeters, is a favorite. As for the soulful murmur he offers throughout Forgetting You, Pharoah Sanders’ wistful and lyrical contributions to Floating Points’ work is a touchstone.

The two grew up down the street from each other in the northern Piedmont town of Batesville, Virginia. Their families were friends, holidays were celebrated together and they became the most loyal of pals. As children they had a pretend band.

Then life unfolded, they attended different schools and their paths diverged. Evans discovered John Coltrane and became a jazz obsessive, as Trump found punk and hardcore and later began making ambient music. As a dedicated jazz trumpeter, Evans studied formally and widely; Trump was an autodidact, teaching himself guitar and absorbing synthesis and production techniques. The late teens and very early 20s brought moves away from home and back to home, as well as plenty of listening and learning. The Covid pandemic meant an opportunity to reconnect on long walks. Through it all, together and apart, they remained reverent of each other.

By early 2023, they found themselves living again among the Blue Ridge Mountains. In the evening, after giving trumpet lessons in Charlottesville, Evans would make the eerily beautiful trek “over the mountain” to Trump’s home in Staunton, Virginia. They’d talk and eat and begin to improvise, deep into the night. Evans played trumpet and sometimes drums. (Given the wee-hours recording schedule, the neighbors didn’t appreciate the latter.) Trump plugged a rickety, junk-store Telecaster-style guitar into a cheap solid-state amp and explored open tunings; he also layered on lap steel, electric bass, synths and electronics.

They locked in and relished each other’s gifts. In Trump, those include patience and intentionality and sonic decision-making; for Evans, a distinctive trumpet sound that both musicians think of as a singer’s voice. “Will’s playing is so thoughtful and well placed,” Trump says. “My goal from a producer’s mindset is that the trumpet will occupy the space that vocals would take.”

Often, they got lost in the best way. “The thing I look for most when I’m playing is that feeling of disappearing into what you’re doing,” Evans says. “Usually when that happens, the music is good.”

By the same token, they didn’t pursue free improvisation as an ethic, or as a pure process. Their goal was something closer to spontaneous composition. “We were trying to make good songs,” Evans says simply. Later, Trump did brilliant post-production work, expanding a modest setup into an enthralling soundworld. Under his judicious editorship, music that was wholly improvised sounds at times like a carefully composed new-music commission.

The results speak for themselves. “A Happy Death” summons up a swath of American desolation through the viewfinder of Wim Wenders. “Flesh of Lost Summers” and “Partings” are highlights from an essential ECM LP that never was. “A Collapse of Horses” infuses those seminal post-rock influences with the plod of doom metal or slowcore. The album’s final track, “The Mountains Are a Dream That Calls to Me,” was in fact the first thing the duo recorded, as an evocation of those twilit drives across the Blue Ridge Mountains. “Looking back at what we chose to name the songs,” Evans says, “and some of the sounds and how they make me feel, there is an air of impermanence and loss to this album.”

“I’m excited for everything that’s to come,” he adds, “but I recently thought, ‘Damn — that’s not going to happen again.’ It was a privilege for us to have that time together.”

It is summer dawn . . . and you are alone. Here is music for your strange mood. The piano starts the first track, slow tempo beat, a strict beat, a swinging beat. Lillemor—here minor harmonies give the tune a rural, romantic feeling of some place in Spain or France. The tempo changes to medium fast—the flute solos. Light phrasing contrasts beautifully to the earthy, swinging beat of the rhythm section and the repeating piano figures. The trombone adds a new color, a counterpoint of sound and phrasing, backed by the pulsating beat of this wonderful rhythm and the driving piano. Summer dawn . . . This music has more to offer, because it shows the personality of Sahib Shihab at its best. Sahib is a universal musician who reflects musical experiences in jazz since the end of the thirties. He lived through the important periods of modern jazz with his heart and mind wide open toward everything that was good music, regardless of being termed "Mainstream", "Bop", "Cool", "Westcoast", "Eastcoast", "Hard Bop'', et cetera. When you listen closely to his music, you will find traces of all these, but they are immersed in his deep musicianship and his true jazz personality. Sahib Shihab's background reads like the record of a master of advanced studies. Furthermore he played and collaborated with the coolest jazz musician of that period. Above all let's name Budd Johnson, Theolonius Monk, Tadd Dameron, Milt Jackson, Dizzy Gillespie, Illinois Jaquet, Elmer Snowden, Luther Henderson, Larry Noble, Fletcher Henderson, Roy Eldridge. In his early professional years, Sahib was heard mostly on alto sax; later, more often on baritone sax and flute. Today, his name is inseparably connected with these two instruments. The unity of his jazz performances is not alone bound up with the com¬positions and the arrangements of Sahib Shihab, though in their understated simplicity they have a melodic beauty that is seldom found in jazz of today. The rhythmical subtleties add to the overall qualities of being relaxed vehicles for free-blowing, but there is an immediacy that you hear and feel every moment when listening which defies analysis. The playing of the rhythm section helps greatly to promote the sense of flux and contrasting constant renewal that makes listening to this record so invigorating an experience. Well, this is no surprise, with Kenny Clarke as the nucleus of the rhythm group. Kenny 'Klook' Clarke is a major figure and contributor in jazz, one of the founders of modern jazz, and is ranked as one of the all-time great drummers. He influenced a whole generation of musicians with his playing, though living in Paris since the middle of the fifties somewhat dimmed his name to the general American public. Nevertheless, his name alone will assure a connoisseur to expect top class musical experiences. Talking of the rhythm section we have to name Jimmy Woode's bass, which together with Kenny's drumming, is the driving force for the group and the reliable harmonic anchor for the improvisors. By the way, Jimmy has been with the Duke quite a while, and this alone is an award for extraordinary craftsmanship and artistry. The good sounding rhythm with its full-bodied color is also a result of the added bongos of Joe Harris, who manages to stay out of the way of the players—a quality not often found with drummers—but his playing is felt through the set. There are two members of the group not yet mentioned. Two Europeans, pianist-composer-arranger Francy Boland from Belgium, and trombonist Ake Persson from Sweden. Francy Boland this time is a sideman, though normally he is a leader of recording sessions, both as composer-arranger and as musical director of the band. In the fifties he was in the States writing arrangements for different name-bands, such as Basie and Goodman. In Europe, he is famous for his swinging modern big band arrangements; and his inventiveness as a writer is reflected in his piano playing. He has the talent of using the right dynamic approach every moment, thus making his playing helpful to soloists and interesting for listeners as well. Ake Persson has been Scandinavia's out-standing trombone player for about ten years. There are only a few trombonists in Europe who might match his talents at times, but they lack the consistency of his playing. He is impressive, whether playing in a big band, or whether main soloist in his own small groups. American musicians love the sound of his slide trombone and his easily flowing romantic improvisations, so he often joins American name-bands as they travel in Europe. The music speaks alone . . . , we said it before. You have your soul to feel the beauty, to follow lines and structure, and to enjoy the spiritual excitement. Whether you enjoy the flowing, easy sounding theme of "Please Don't Leave Me", or the climaxing piano solo in the same piece—the bass solo in "Waltz For Seth" or the swinging baritone sax—listen to the first bars of this solo and pay attention to Kenny. Whether you listen to "Campi's Idea", (named after Gigi Campi, the well known Cologne jazz enthusiast who organized this recording) with the romantic flute solo of Sahib, the interesting tempo changes, the piano comping, the moving trombone solo; or to the up-tempo "Herr Fixit", with the cooking Kenny and humorous, driving flute solo, you know that these six musicians where in the right mood, in the right stimulating surroundings to feel what we all feel when it's: SUMMER DAWN.

Amputechture Beneath the technical flash, the fury, the fearless creative brinkmanship of the first two Mars Volta albums lay a potent seam of the blues, an existential vexation that powered every twist and turn of Omar and Cedric’s imaginations. That mournful vibe would come to the surface of the group’s third full-length Amputechture, a simmering/blistering set that was unquestionably the group’s darkest yet. There was no overarching theme here, no interlinking concept binding the songs together, though Cedric concedes that, lyrically, the album was influenced “by a lot of stuff I was going through, a really bad break-up and a lot of other crazy stuff, and trying to put that feeling into the record.” But Amputechture – its name another of the late Jeremy Michael Ward’s invented words – was no downbeat bummer. Opener Vicarious Atonement might’ve been a deliciously gloomy, slow-burning thing, capturing Cedric in delirious duet with Omar’s swooning guitar lines, accompanied by squalling saxophone by Adrian Terrazas-Gonzales and dream-frequency fuckery by the group’s new sonic manipulator, former At The Drive- In member Paul Hinojos. But second track Tetragrammaton swiftly set pulses racing, an epic-in-miniature and containing more ideas within its 16 minutes than most bands manage over an entire career, its proggy, complex guitar figures tessellating in infinite configurations and converging as if conforming to mathematical formulae from another reality. The raw material Amputechture was hewn from started life on the road. Omar now travelled with his own mobile recording studio – a little Neve ten-channel tape recorder and an array of microphones – and was able to work on new ideas on tourbuses, in hotel rooms and during soundcheck (and, occasionally, after the show was done). After touring for Frances The Mute was complete, Omar relocated to Amsterdam, staying with his photographer friend Danielle Van Ark and her partner, Nils Post. It’s here that he demoed Amputechture, flying in engineer Jon DeBaun, drummer Jon Theodore and his brother, Chino, to work on these raw sketches. He later returned to Los Angeles, where the album was finally recorded. Omar ceded guitar duties to his dear friend and kindred spirit John Frusciante, instead assuming the role of musical director. “I wanted to hear the sound of the band,” he says. “I thought, I’ll be able to sit at the console, feel the air of the speakers moving, the unified sound of everything, and not feel distant from it. It was fun, but it was also challenging.” Part of Omar’s new method was to teach the musicians their parts only moments before the tapes rolled. “To keep things fresh, and to keep everyone on edge,” he says, before chuckling. “No, not on edge – on their toes. Amputechture would prove The Mars Volta’s most diverse set yet, drawing into the group’s tornado of influences moments of fiery jazz spirituality and esoteric folk introspection, finding space for passages of devastating subtlety and also their most fierce and full-on moments to date. The aforementioned Vicarious Atonement found its meditative mood echoed by Asilos Magdalena, an intimate, acoustic piece that invoked traditional Latin folk music, as Cedric sang in Spanish a sorrowful tale of a lost soul’s quest for sanctuary within a Magdalen Asylum, a refuge set up by the Catholic church for “fallen women”. The shadowy, sinister closer El Ciervo Vulnerado, meanwhile, tapped into the darker side of spiritual jazz to further explore the album’s themes of redemption and religious myth and magick. Elsewhere, the interplay between guitar and clarinet on Viscera Eyes created complex, unsettling counter-melodies, while the coiling, ornate Meccamputechture – Cedric’s wild fusion of sacred texts, occultism and dystopian science fiction – proved a great showcase for Ikey Owens’ swarming, infernal organ runs, in concert with Frusciante’s arcane guitar-play. But it was Day Of The Baphomets that would prove Amputechture’s most ambitious and most defining epic. Cedric’s lyrics tore into the hypocrisy of religious cant and myths of sin and punishment. “I wanted to make a song that was like the movie The Believers, where this cabal stole kids and did some occult shit with them,” he explains. “But I wanted it to be like, ‘What if the people you hire to do jobs you don’t wanna do rise up one day and then pull some shit like that?’ Like it was the guerrilla warfare, them taking over – wouldn’t that be some fucked up shit? And the music just lent itself to that – the big intro, the bass solo, and all of the ruckus that occurs.” That ruckus was some of the most thrilling Mars Volta music yet, as Omar directed his musicians to rumble through fiery modes of wild tribal groove, ransack-the-palaces riot- rock and supreme progressive experimentalism. Amputechture, then, is the sound of The Mars Volta in imperial mode: fearless, insatiable, unstoppable.

Sasu Ripatti presents the fourth volume in his "Dancefloor Classics" series with five 10" releases coming throughout 2023. Music for imaginary dancefloors, released on Ripatti's own label "Rajaton".

”Look up, into the light” she said, while the camera shutter clicked. ”Like this? Does it look holy?” His neck felt stiff. Her reply: ”Yes, just like that. What do you mean holy? Like religious? ”No, more like trying to look very far, somewhere beyond what we can see.” ”Okay, stand still, I’m going to come close to you now. The light hits your face great.” click, click, click.

He noticed her fingernails. They were not polished. Natural. Even somewhat rugged, as if something wore out the fingers slightly. What had these hands held besides the camera? What made the edges of her fingernails drift off?

He thought it’s weird to look straight into the camera. The photographer had closed her left eye, the one not looking into the lens. Then it opened, she looked up, perusing the surroundings, then she closed her eye again, then looked up, closed, looking up, very quickly. It all seemed very professional. Maybe she calculated the light, making sure it’s close to perfect. ”What will these photos look like?” – the thought popped into his head briefly. It was liberating to think it wouldn’t matter.

”What’s that song playing?” he asked. ”Wait a sec, Ol’ Dirty Bastard?” she replied. ”Oh yeah, right. But the sample?” ”Hey, could you look up again, like that. No, lower.”

New directions: ”Look out from the window, turn left.” ”My left or yours?” ”Yours, I always try to think from the direction of my model.” How professional! This is a good shoot, so natural. Should I worry about how the photos look like? No, I don’t want to. His thoughts bounced around. What would the story be like? It’s a big newspaper, everyone will read it. Maybe someone drinks coffee and eats a stroopwafel while they do it. Will they place the waffle on top of the mug for a brief while, so that it gets hot and the syrup melts a little? Then it feels wet, and you can bend the cookie.

She broke his train of thought off midway through: ”Now turn right, but look left, and slightly up, but don’t turn your face right.” ”Umm, like this? Sounds like a set of pilates instructions.” she laughed ”You do pilates?” ”Yeah, it’s hard sometimes. Have you tried?” ”No”, she said. ”I’m not good for sports that are done in groups.” ”Yeah, but in pilates you can just be inside your mind, drowning in your private thoughts.”

”What are you thinking in pilates?” she asked, taking more photos. ”Well, mostly just which way is right. And which left.” click, click.

Q&A with Sasu Ripatti:

1) Tell us something about the EP series ”Dancefloor Classics”, what’s the idea and what can we expect?

I’ve been slowly writing these sort of dance music pieces and finally curated them together for a conceptual release. I like to create music for a dancefloor that exists only in my imagination and doesn’t try to suck up to the standardized reality.

2) Your vinyl format is 10” which is quite special (as opposed to LP / 12”). Why did you choose it?

It’s my favourite format, absolutely. The size is perfect, and you can make it sound really good @ 45 rpm. And you still can make great artwork.

3) You seem interested in sampling/repurposing, what does it mean to you as an artist to approach something already existing from a new angle? How does the source material inform you about the approach to take?

I guess i could flip it around and just say I’ve outgrown synths or electronic sounds to a great extend, and having gotten rid off all my synths already good while ago I’ve used samples as my main source material a lot. It’s obvious on this series that i’ve sampled existing music, but I also sample instruments and things in the studio and resample my own library that I have built over the years, it’s quite large. To me the end result matters, not so much how I get there. Once I have something on my keyboard and play around, it’s all an instrument, though with sampling other music it becomes a really interesting and complex one as you’re possibly playing rhythm, but also harmonic content and maybe hooks or whatever, all at once.
I never sample premeditadedly, like listening to records and looking for that mindblowing 3 sec part. I just throw the cards in the air and see what lands where, just full intuition and hopefully zero mind involved, playing tons of stuff, trying things, just recording hours of stuff. Then comes the interesting part to listen to hours of mostly crazy stuff and finding that mindblowing 3 sec part.

4) What is your relationship with the dancefloor (conceptually and/or in experiences / as a performer)?

Very complicated. I have never really felt comfortable on a dancefloor but have always wanted to. There’s something in club music, in theory, that really speaks to me. It has never really materialized for me – speaking mainly from a performer’s point of view who goes to check on a dancefloor for a moment after a concert. I never have DJ’d or felt much interest towards it. But again, I love the idea and concept of DJing. As well as producing music for imaginary DJs. Lately, as in the past 10+ years, I haven’t even performed in any sort of club spaces. So my relationship to the dancefloor is quite removed and reduced, but there’s quite a bit of passion and interest left.

All tracks composed and produced by Sasu Ripatti.
Artwork & photography by Marc Hohmann.
Mastering by Stephan Mathieu for Schwebung Mastering.
Vinyl cut by SST Brueggemann.
Publishing by WARP Music Ltd.

The unconscious and unknown must be really nice places. In any case, if you take the second album of Menelaos Tomasides under his given name as travelogue. A trip into dreamlike territory, yet concrete enough, a journey without target yet looking forward and looking back into familiar places, „dreamhike“ both continues and departs from the style Menelaos has found earlier, in “When the Moon Comes Through”, or his more conceptual-intentional “31 Minuten” works. As the album title - which roughly translates to “dream hiking” but also hints on “walkabout” and “songlines” – suggests, we are rambling between the real and the imaginary. From the bucolic border triangle of Belgium, Germany, and the Netherlands to the buzzing streets of the capital of Cyprus, where Menelaos has lived for many years, the tracks are about real places, about real experiences and emotions yet interwoven with a dreamlike fabric. Something that is just not tangible, yet substantial and palpable. Something concrete that manifests in the genuine and special sound design of this records - basically all of Menelaos’ works - his really special treatment of dynamics and loudness. It is one of the very few records where the established language of music making, specifically Techno, House, Dub, and early 2000’ Electronica, the clicks, thumps and plops from an earlier age of electronic music, transmogrify into slow movements of something new. Something that is gentle and truly personal, looking inwards. There are four-to-the-floor beats, there is wobbly bass, and dubby chords, even sublimated clarion calls. There is an immense energy in these tracks, the sheer materiality of low frequencies of a massive sound system manifested in a tiny room. Yet it is without any aggression, stripped bare of sonic pressure. It is quiet music no matter how high you turn up the volume. A rare treat, that requires exceptional skills and exceptional restraint and control on the technical side of music making. Probably it is a result of Menelaos specific combination of instinctual, intuitive approach to making music, which meets a genuine love for sound in seemingly endless loops of refinement that can lead to such a result as „dreamhike“. The elegant floating balance of control and playful experimentation manifests for example in a track that continues the ongoing collaboration with seasoned Cologne improviser Achim Fink on bass trumpet. Not only in this respect, the album can be described as a product of openness. It comes from a lot of taking in the world, of travel, of places and people met, of friendship and conversation (not necessarily with words). The deep trip of “dreamhike” further manifests Menelaos as one of the truly independent voices of electronic Cologne and beyond. Somewhat alike in character and attitude probably to what late Pete Namlook has established for Frankfurt with his label Fax +49-69/450464 (though ultimately warmer and much less uncanny) Menelaos has found his very own sound and vision. Music that answers to no one but speaks to everyone. Uncompromising yet gentle to the core: kind sounds from a kind spirit, arguably the most extraordinary and valuable quality music can have these days.

Everything is out of control / from melting pots to melting poles - das aktuelle Album der Grazer Alternative-Bande The Base lässt unsere Welt abgeranzt und hässlich glänzen. So beginnt es gleich wie ein dunkler, erdiger field holler. Bei einem field holler rufen sich Sklaven, Gefangene oder Zwangsarbeiter Worte und Sätze zu, die durch ihre Wiederholung den Rhythmus zum Arbeiten angeben - und zum Überleben. Sing or die! Everything falls apart / and everyone is acting smart. Norbert Wally und seine beiden Spießgesellen starten ihre torture de force im tiefen Süden, in der Ursuppe des Rock`n`Roll, im tiefen Sumpfland des Delta-Blues. Aber The Base sind weit davon entfernt, eine Bluesplatte aus dem Schlamm und Dreck auszugraben. Bei "It's all Going South" stehen eher Bands wie Fun Lovin' Criminals, The Clash oder Pixies Pate. The Base verstehen Blues als Brandbeschleuniger: Die Stories, die Statements, die Visionen - kaum je waren Norbert Wally (Voice/Guitars), Albrecht Klinger (Bass) und Karlheinz Miklin Jr. (Drums) so politisch, so sozialkritisch, so wütend. Und nie waren sie so sarkastisch wie 2024. Blues, das heißt Tanzen auf dem Vulkan. Lachen beim eigenen Begräbnis. Und die Fäuste ballen, wenn miese Abzocker das Gute und Schöne beflecken um aus der Wahrheit eine Ware zu machen. Der Opener "High Time For Panicking" ist ein Meisterwerk für sich: Innerhalb von eineinhalb Minuten schießt er uns vom Pre-War Blues alter Lomax-Shellacs in den lärmigen Groove einer New Wave Combo, die um ihr Leben spielt. Der Titeltrack "It's All Going South" flimmert der Ferne wie ein Wüstenkaktus in, der gerade von Mr. Tarantino in einem 1967er Chevrolet Impala Sport Sedan niedergewalzt wird: dünenweise Hall auf der massiv geforderten Gitarre, die in Slow-Mo durch die Story wandert. Ein Bass, der vor Clint Eastwood den Hut zieht. Die Atmosphäre: Calexico deluxe. "Alles geht den Bach runter" so Wird die titelgebende Redewendung ins Deutsche übertragen. "Chemically Speaking Alcohol Is Still A Solution" könnte als Antwort auf alle gutgemeinten Versuche gehört werden, eine Welt voller Diktatoren, Kriegsgerät und Wahnsinn mit Vinyasa-Yoga und Lactobacillus bulgaricus im Joghurt zu retten. Waren die vorhergehenden Alben betont reduziert und puristisch, so gönnen sich The Base auf "It's All Going South" Backgroundchöre, fetten Vintagesound und lassen ausgiebige Studioeffekte. Das sitzt jedoch alles wie angegossen und zeigt die Qualität der Songs, denen knapp anliegende Taucheranzüge ebenso gut stehen wie schillernd verbrämte Kostüme. Niemand zieht aus dem Wort "happy" so viel Melancholie wie Norbert Wally und folgerichtig ist auch die Single-Auskoppelung "Waiting for June" ein Liebeslied, das gar keines ist. Aber der zwingendste Grund das Album anzuhören heißt "No One's Safe". Ein Song der sich wie ein Drillbohrer durch das Innenohr zur Großhirnrinde vorarbeitet. Soundcollagen, Voice-Over, eigenartiger Noise - immer tiefer bohrt sich der Song, bis er den Erdkern erreicht. Norbert Wally zeigt in seiner Stimme eine elegante Verletzlichkeit, die an einen David Bowie der 70er-Jahre erinnert. Die Intensität von OK Computer drängt sich auf. Niemand ist sicher. Game over! "It's All Going South" ist die bisher schmerzhafteste, politischste Platte von The Base. Wie schade, wir werden alle untergehen - und das kann zumindest verdammt sexy klingen.

Limited Gray Marble Vinyl. This vinyl edition includes two EPs, one on each side: 'By the Ash Tree' and 'Upstream Dream', originally recorded and released in 2020 and 2021 respectively. To connect these compositions, Matt Kidd (Slow Meadow) composed new segues/crossfades from song to song, allowing the pieces to be experienced in one cohesive and harmonious flow. From Marc Weidenbaum's 'Disquiet' review: "Slow Meadow's new album, 'By the Ash Tree', opens with cascades of delays and proceeds through three tracks of reflective piano". The title track of 'By the Ash Tree' is one of Slow Meadow's most popular and enduring compositions. 'Upstream Dream' was composed around the time of 2019's Happy Occident. Soft electronics, bearing otherworldly tones and, at times, a sense of playful mischief, subtly shift expectations and bring discovery and wonder at every turn. It bookends a period of creative output that introduced Kidd's vision of calming and meditative ambient music. With a foundation of piano, string orchestration, and an ever-evolving electronic palette, Slow Meadow traverses the borders of neoclassical and minimalist electronics and delivers a deeply personal and transportive experience that speaks directly to the ebbs and flows and mundanity and marvels of life.

Isik Kural returns with Moon in Gemini, a luminous scrapbook of slow-flowing narratives couched in intuitive and symbolic storytelling. Bending a playful take on environmental music to the folk song form, Isik's vocals coo atop pastoral field notes, airy chamber instrumentation and archival recordings culled from a curious musical life. A tender pastiche coalesces across the suite of Moon in Gemini's fourteen pieces, and Isik invites the listener to daydream as-deep-as-possible. "The songs on Moon in Gemini don't mind being slower or taking their time to reach the listener," says Isik, who wanted the title to speak to the album's dreamy, liminal nature. "I enjoyed how the phrase could be used to describe an object, a time or a place simultaneously," he explains. Similarly and subsequently, these songs contain a multiplicity of sonic artifacts, moments and spaces that span Isik's rich musical career to date. With the bulk of the album realized between Amasya, Turkey and Isik's current home in Glasgow, in both domestic and studio recording environments, additional tracks unearthed from his personal recording archive lend their lush patina. The record emerged as a fertile space to reimagine a handful of previously unreleased songs and unfinished ideas spanning the past fifteen years of his life and work, including streetside sounds documented while growing up in Turkey and recordings made while studying music engineering in Miami, Helsinki and Glasgow. Looking to the more recent past, Isik found himself wanting to build upon some of the methodologies and textures explored on his 2022 album in february, seeking a newly intimate, vocal-forward sound. He points to the track "film festival" from that album as a door through which to enter Moon in Gemini, where sample-based arrangements are presented in the context of asymmetrical "build ups and progressions" and ambience and vocals intertwine. Inspired in part by listening to iconic, if not sometimes misunderstood, singers such as Nina Simone, Aldous Harding and Ed Droste of Grizzly Bear, Isik aimed to carve out a new space for his voice on Moon in Gemini, experimenting with novel recording and mixing techniques. Captured at his aunt's farmhouse in Amasya during an extended three week recording session, we find Isik's vocal high in the mix, front-and-center and on newly expressive terms. As a songwriter, Isik is an intuitive and playful lyricist who allows his deep love of literature to flow through his off-kilter texts. Here, echoes of Silvina Ocampo's poem "Dialogues of the Silence" reverberate from the margins of "Most Beautiful Imaginary Dialogues". Likewise, Elliott Smith and Virgina Astley shapeshift through "Behind the Flowerpots," some lines of which were based on misheard lyrics from Smith's "Stickman" and Astley's "Some Small Hope." Attuned to the magic of happy coincidences, other unexpected "themes and connections between tracks flourished" during the recording process, resulting in some songs being more "thematically and lyrically connected to each other compared to previous records." The duos "Prelude" and "Interlude" as well as "Grown One Iota" and "After a Rain" explore connected stories, while "Almost a Ghost" and "Behind the Flowerpots" serendipitously emerged out of a conversation with Stephanie "Spefy" Roxanne Ward, whose balmy vocals heard highlighting in february return and call out to Isik's in sweet dialogue. Plumbing these new potentials of structure and songwriting, Isik also developed a taste for an expanded sonic palette, one enriched by the lulling undertones of live woodwinds and strings. The resulting collaborations with flutist Tenzin Stephen, harpist Kirstin McCarlie and clarinet player Giulia Tamborino envelop the record in an altogether "dreamier sound," swaying pastel and awash in lunar light. Moon in Gemini, brimming with natural imagery and lullaby-inflected tones, tunes into states of being where the wonder filled sound of everyday is heard and felt, perfectly imperfect in its poetry; where the invisible steps forward; where dauntless ghosts wait around every corner and play enriches the soul; where bird song fills sun-soaked afternoons and carries us on its wings into each enchanted evening. Isik Kural's Moon in Gemini will be released on vinyl, Japanese import CD, and digital editions on September 6, 2024. On behalf of Isik and RVNG, a portion of the proceeds from this release will benefit Mor Çaty Women's Shelter Foundation, whose social work at their solidarity centers and shelters supports women building lives unhindered by gender-based discrimination and male violence under free and equal conditions.

Repress

Songs ’94-’98 is a smart selection of material from The Cat’s Miaow, an Australian indie-pop group that gifted their decade with some of its finest songs. Released on World Of Echo, the album draws from the group’s string of excellent seven-inch singles, a small clutch of compilation contributions, and features one previously unreleased song, “I Take It That We’re Through”, recorded in 1998. Part of the burgeoning international pop underground of the nineties, The Cat’s Miaow’s legend has only built over subsequent decades, as more people discover this most quixotic and curious of groups: a recent appearance on A Colourful Storm’s compilation of Australian indie-pop, I Won’t Have To Think About You, is testament to their enduring influence. In part emulating the selection of tracks on the 1997 CD-only compilation, Songs For Girls To Sing, Songs ’94-’98 is also the group’s first ever full-length 12” vinyl collection. The Cat’s Miaow started out in 1992 as a home-recording duo, Bart Cummings (guitar, bass, vocals) and Andrew Withycombe (bass, guitar) taking time out from duties with Girl Of The World and The Ampersands (respectively), knocking out songs on Withycombe’s four-track. Soon joined by Kerrie Bolton (vocals) and Cam Smith (drums), the quartet spent the next five years quietly, slowly working away in the suburbs of Melbourne, recording gem after gem of independent pop. Like many of their Australian precursors or peers – The Particles, Even As We Speak, The Cannanes – The Cat’s Miaow were more successful overseas, a sadly typical phenomenon within the Australian musical landscape. The Cat’s Miaow were always worldly and stylish, anyway, each seven-inch single a refined artifact, each song a peaceable jewel. You could hear some relationships with other music – someone (if not everyone) in The Cat’s Miaow was a Galaxie 500 fan; there’s a minimalism to the playing and melodies that recalls Young Marble Giants, Marine Girls, Beat Happening – but the spirit in these songs is endearingly individualised, the result of a hermetic vision, an ideal of what a simple, unadorned pop song could be. They had a winning way with simplicity, songs like “Autumn”, “Crying” and “I Can’t Sleep Thinking You Hate Me” passing by in the blink of a moistened eye, and when they stretched out, as on “Firefly”, you can hear hints of the drifting ambience they’d perfect in their other band, Hydroplane. It’s not much of a surprise that The Cat’s Miaow found a receptive audience, and no small amount of support, from the networked communities of indie-pop labels and fanatics that developed in the nineties – they released records on imprints like Drive-In, Darla, Bus Stop and Quiddity, shared a flexi-disc with Stereolab, and appeared on countless compilations over the years. But they also understood the importance of the local: their first few cassettes reached the world’s mail routes via Wayne Davidson’s legendary Melbourne tape label, Toytown; they turned up on a split single with Davidson’s group, Stinky Fire Engine; they appeared on a tribute cassette for one of Australia’s finest, The Sugargliders, and indeed that’s Josh Meadows of said group playing wah guitar on “Stay”. The Cat’s Miaow also rarely played live – one launch gig, for the Munch video compilation, and a few parties – which is a great way to maintain mystique. Cosmopolitan yet homely, dedicated to their craft, The Cat’s Miaow always felt a little like a group moving in slow motion, using that pace and focus fully to embrace the art of the perfectly stated pop song – every element in place, no flash and no fuss, no excess, just the core of the thing. Few managed to tease such fierce poetry from such understated, elegant means. From Australia or anywhere.

-3rd album from veteran rap duo Dillon & Batsauce. Dillon on the raps & scratches, Batsauce on the beats. ('On Their Way' - 2018, 'Self Medicated' - 2020).
-Produced entirely by Batsauce, guest features include Grand Puba, Kool Keith, Quelle Chris, Reef the Lost Cauze, Headkrack and Jay Myztroh of Stono Echo.
-Atlanta, GA + Jacksonville, FL album release parties booked for end of July + Northeast Tour Run scheduled for August.
-Batsauce has been producing hip hop and soul for 20+ years with multiple albums on labels BBE (Barely Breaking Even) producing for his wife, soul-singer, Lady Daisey + Galapagos4 where he produced multiple projects for Qwazaar of Typical Cats. He is 1/3 of the group, 'The Smile Rays' (which includes Lady Daisey and Paten Locke). He's also done extensive work with Akrobatik, Mr. Lif and even has multiple songs with George Clinton!
-Dillon is an Atlanta, GA based MC/DJ who has been releasing records for 20 years, 10 of those years was running FULL PLATE, the label he started in 2013 with Paten Locke (RIP). Dillon has worked with many of Hip-Hop's elite from the old school to the true school such as Chuck D, Diamond D, Count Bass D, Kool Keith, Greg Nice, Grand Puba, Homeboy Sandman, J-Live, Quelle Chris, Sadat X, Ras Kass, Stacy Epps, Planet Asia, eLZhi, Slimkid3 of The Pharcyde - and the list goes on!
-Classic black, standard weight vinyl in full-color jacket w/ matte finish. Includes Download Card.
Underground hip-hop veterans, Dillon and Batsauce have been making unorthodox rap music together for nearly 20 years with a simple formula: Batsauce makes the beats, Dillon writes the songs, and whatever happens, happens. After carving out their own lane with a catalog of EPs and LPs over the past 2 decades, the duo has finally slowed down enough to ask themselves, 'What Have We Done'?
Is the title of their latest effort rhetorical or meant to be an actual question? If so, Dillon and Batsauce probably don't want to know the answer. They probably don't want you, the listener, to think too much about it either. Instead, 'What Have We Done' is an invitation to experience the trials and tribulations, the small wins and the big losses of being aging independent artists in an increasingly cut-throat world for music makers.
But Dillon & Batsauce aren't the only ones on this joyride, we also hear from a well-curated crew of characters they've befriended along the way, from bonafide legends like Grand Puba and Kool Keith to modern day rap heroes, Quelle Chris & Reef the Lost Cauze. The end result is a collection of songs that runs the gamut from personal to aspirational to...delusional. Whether it's 'too much' or 'not enough', the answer to the question, 'What Have We Done' remains open to interpretation. Perhaps it’s not a question at all, but merely the naturally visceral reaction when career creators look back at a life lived on the edge.
Track Listing: 1. What Have We Done (Intro) 2. Mind Made 3. Quiet as a Library 4. Eddie Farah 5. Make History 6. Cannonball feat. Grand Puba 7. Banana Peels 8. Accolades feat. Reef the Lost Cauze & Jay Myztroh 9. Wakin' up Hungry feat. Headkrack 10. Goin' Viral 11. Ready on the Left feat. Kool Keith 12. What Are We Doing (Interlude) 13. Watercolors feat. Quelle Chris 14. Speak Easy 15. Isiah Thomas 16. Rock Bottom 17. Yoga Flame