Поиск:soft talk

Their masterpiece? With breaks for dayyyyyys and an almost ambient, heavy jazz atmosphere throughout, *this* is the apex of British jazz-rock fusion. We'll Talk About It Later was first released on Vertigo in 1971 and original copies are now very tricky to score. Like all the Nucleus records, it’s aged ridiculously well and this Be With re-issue, re-mastered from the original analogue tapes, shows off just why this deserves to be back in press.

Genius trumpeter and visionary composer Ian Carr was one of the most respected British musicians of his era. He was a true pioneer and saw the potential in fusing the worlds of jazz with rock, just as Miles Davis and The Tony Williams Lifetime did in the US. In late 1969, following the demise of the Rendell-Carr quintet, and tiring of British jazz, Carr assembled the legendary Nucleus. Regarding music as a continuous process, Nucleus refused to “recognise rigid boundaries” and worked on delivering what they saw as a “total musical experience”. We can get behind that.

Under bandleader Carr, Nucleus existed as a fluid line-up of inventive, skilled musicians. This constant evolution and revolution was all part of the continuous musical exploration and discovery that took jazz to new levels. And the music has kept relevant. To steal a line from a review of our re-issue of Roots, when it comes to anything Nucleus “it’s basically already hip-hop”.

We'll Talk About It Later is arguably Nucleus's best album. Not only that, it's in the top 5 of all fusion albums. By the time Nucleus entered Trident Studios in September 1970 to record Elastic Rock's successor, they had already won a best group award at the Montreux Jazz Festival. Once again presented in a Roger Dean designed die-cut gatefold sleeve it continued to demonstrate the chemistry and interplay that worked so brilliantly on Elastic Rock; Carr's sumptuous trumpet and flügelhorn lines, Karl Jenkins's funk-filled electric keyboards, Chris Spedding's wah-wah guitar, Brian Smith's sax and the rhythmic foundation of drummer John Marshall and bassist Jeff Clyne.

The group work and insane musicianship Nucleus were famed for is in evidence from the off. The intensely funky "Song for the Bearded Lady" is absolute FIRE, blasting out the speakers to leave listeners floored. Counterpoint riffing segues into a spacious groove and a Carr trumpet solo demonstrating the influence of electric Miles from the period. The stop-start funk of "Sun Child" would appeal to Soft Machine devotees whilst the genuinely touching "Lullaby for a Lonely Child" is a lovely downtempo ballad. Featuring an understated, reflective horn line from Carr and Smith and atmospheric, shimmering bouzouki from Spedding, there's an exotic flavour which contributes to the bliss. The ominous, sleazy title track retains a swaggering menace and is not the only track to lend a sort of heavy stoner rock atmosphere. The guitars and bass are deep and low throughout, conjuring heavy psych moments to go with the actual jazz and even funk. To say this album was in conversation with Bitches Brew would not be overstating the sheer brain-frying brilliance.

The Weather Report-adjacent "Oasis" opens Side B, a colossal track featuring nearly 10 minutes of steadily building melodic horns, keys and choppy guitar riffs. So ace, it could easily go on for another 10. Mesmeric. Spedding adds unique vocals to the undeniable groove of "Ballad of Joe Pimp" whilst saxophonist Smith's duet with drummer Marshall at the conclusion of "Easter 1916" - inspired by the Yeats poem about the Irish nationalist uprising in Dublin - adopts the wildness of the most incendiary free jazz.

This Be With edition of We'll Talk About It Later has been re-mastered from the original Vertigo master tapes, Simon Francis’ mastering working together with Cicely Balston's cut at AIR Studios to weave their usual magic with these wonderful recordings. The stunning die-cut sleeve has been restored with the original gatefold window pane depicting the Irish uprising in 1916. Incredible, timeless, guaranteed spine-chills.

Manchester's Avant-Jazzy-Funk outfit Swamp Children were enviably eclectic and Taste What's Rhythm is their mini masterpiece. Flitting gracefully through a feast of genres with consummate ease, the band were almost indefinable and, accordingly, nigh-on impossible to market. So whilst this cult EP, originally out in 1982 on Factory Benelux, remains in demand for those in the know, it has also glided under the radar of many otherwise clued-up heads for over 40 years. If you don't know, get to know...

The Taste Whats Rhythm EP was originally released in 1982 on Factory Benelux (an informal partnership between the legendary Manchester-based Factory Records and Belgium-based Les Disques du Crépuscule). With it's kaleidoscopic brightness, silky panache and superb execution, it remains one of the most startling documents of a remarkable time and place.

The EP opens with the oh-so-Balearic title track. "Taste Whats Rhythm" gently unfolds with a Spanish guitar, hazy, drifting vocals and sun-bleached Latin percussion. After this most sumptuous of intros, the tempo is raised, the rhythms grow in complexity as horns jostle amidst the restrained chaos quite wonderfully. And then it winds down again. Proper fluctuating rhythms and tempos throughout. I guess that was the point - taste the variety!

“You’ve Got Me Beat” is a *perfect* piece of post-punk pop-jazz. A mysterious, after dark jazz-dancer, the aching vocals serve as a touching, tender resignation to love. A guitar hook which seems to elegantly reference The Blackbyrds' "Rock Creek Park" and a flowing pulse from New York's No Wave scene. It still sounds so fresh all the years later.

Closing out this most perfect of EPs, the twisted synths and nimble rhythms of bass-heavy roller "Softly Saying Goodbye" combine to create a super-slinky gem; Brit-Funk of the highest order.

Swamp Children formed in Manchester in 1980, around core members Ann Quigley (vocals), Tony Quigley (bass, metalaphone, percussion), John Kirkham (electric & acoustic guitars, metalaphone, percussion), Ceri Evans (keyboards, bass, percussion, background vocals), Cliff Saffer (saxaphone, clarine) and Martin Moscrop (drums, percussion, trumpet). They initially practised at a rehearsal space shared with fellow post-punk funkers A Certain Ratio and Joy Division/New Order. Young and relatively inexperienced upon getting together, the ages of Swamp Children's members ranged from just 16 to 19. Talk about the brilliance of youth.

From the outset, Swamp Children shared DNA with A Certain Ratio. Martin Moscrop was a founder member of Ratio, while Ann provided artwork for them. Although the close association with ACR led some to assume that Swamp Children were simply a splinter group, the new band pursued a more overt latin and jazz tinged direction, at the same time adopting a post-punk attitude towards making music, influenced by the records they were listening to at the time: Miles Davis, Brazilian jazz fusion and heavy funk dancefloor sides.

The band made their live debut at Manchester's infamous Beach Club in May 1980. Thanks to a double-booking blunder another support band turned up and were turned away, having travelled all the way from Dublin for a string of British dates. The name of the unlucky band was U2...

With arrangements that emphasised Tony Quigley’s darkly-coloured basslines (and Ann Quigley’s impressionistic vocals as another instrument in the mix) Swamp Children possessed an easygoing grace and a bubbling energy which indicated that the band's true strength was as an ensemble. The band’s musical sophistication (a fusion of funk, jazz, and bossa nova) would prove to be a strong influence on later UK acts like Sade. Indeed, Swamp Children themselves later mutated into the more known and acclaimed latin jazz outfit Kalima.

Working directly with James Nice, custodian of Factory Benelux, means that the audio for this re-issue of the classic EP comes from the original tapes. Cut at 45 RPM and released in the house Be With disco sleeve, we’ve made sure this record is well up to the job of having a permanent place in every DJ’s bag. As far as we’re concerned, this is essential stuff.

Existing somewhere between the post-psychedelic period of Soft Machine and the electric funk of Herbie Hancock's Headhunters, Black And White, the 1976 album from Norway's Vanessa is without question a formidable beast of a jazz-rock record. A potent brew of sonic experimentation and pulsating off-kilter groove. Taking their name from the genus of Nymphalidae butterfly, Vanessa was founded in 1971 by saxophonist Svend Undseth and pianist Frode Holm, the founder of the Oslo record store turned imprint, Compendium Records. Unsurprisingly analogous to the music championed across the Compendium catalogue Black And White is clearly influenced by the UK Canterbury scene, highlighted by Compendium's focus on the recordings of Soft Machine alumni Hugh Hopper and Elton Dean. Vanessa's spirit also lies synonymous with the collective pedigree on the label's roster including British progressive jazz stalwart Keith Tippett and Mirage (a UK group consisting of ex-members of Centipede and The Mike Westbrook Orchestra), together with the avant-rock collective Henry Cow and the experimental synthesiser-jazz of US ex-pat Joe Gallivan (together with Charles Austin).

Often dubbed the 'Compendium house band' owing to Holm's association with the label, the Vanessa sound is inherently familiar yet undeniably original. Each of the album's four long compositions are a meld of complex angular jazz laced with swirling electronic textures - furious rhythms that surge in intoxicating intensity before easing into fluid passages of soulful post-bop. The dichotomy of these styles plants the group firmly into radical new jazz territory alongside their Canterbury contemporaries. Despite their brief existence, the band, alongside the label left an indelible mark on Norwegian jazz-rock and the headier side of European progressive music at large.

Reissue of 1976 Norwegian Jazz-Rock album.
Post-psychedelic period Soft Machine meets the electric funk of Herbie Hancock's Headhunters
Transferred and restored from the original master tape.

2023 repress in Marbled Vinyl

To say the release of this EP's tracks is long-awaited would be a terribly gross understatement, so it's with much fanfare and general HQ excitement that we announce the sophomore release from the monstrously talented Ross From Friends.

Having been circulating on the net for a fair while now, 'Talk To Me You'll Understand' finally arrives with a fresh mastering, but still thudding along with those scuffed Reebok drums and soaked into fuzzy, stomach-squeezing low-pass filter. All soft chords, soothing vocals, deep-sea bass and skittering hats.

Middle-man 'Gettin' It Done' is a solid label favourite. Less the full vocal flourishes and more the tinkered & chopped MPC underpinned by more dusty drum work that just grows in impact as the track goes on. One for late running and early morning truckin'.

Last but not least comes the R'n'B-inflicted house jam 'Bootman'. Although it takes a good couple of minutes to get going, this is pure 2016 date playlist vibes. Slip the iPhone into the restaurant system and watch the silk melt down from the walls, the tables coat in velvet and ever-lasting passion effervesce from the heaving masses.

Often credited as the “Mother of Hip-hop”, Sylvia Robinson was a seminal blues-turned-soul singer, producer, and writer who released a slew of sultry and sensually charged records in the 1970s as a solo act and in the duo Mickey & Sylvia. Pillow Talk remains her most intoxicating work; a steamy bedroom funk record featuring her illustrious breathy, intimate vocals embedded with silky acoustic guitars, lush orchestral strings, piloted by a series of soft, subtle, and seductive clubby rhythms that still sounds fresh and entrancing today.

LEMON YELLOW VINYL

As mui zyu, Hong Kong British artist Eva Liu navigates the tricky territory of ever-changing identity, merging fantasy and folklore to create a stage for self-acceptance and deliverance. On her debut full-length Rotten Bun for an Eggless Century, Liu utilizes chopped-up sound- scapes, delicate industrial ambience and sweet pop melodies to introduce a character--a guide--who can be stretched across worlds to offer the catharsis of patience, perseverance and understanding. This isn't a character formed from a desire to escape or flee the real world, but rather a way to submerge even deeper into ourselves. Rotten Bun for an Eggless Century is a reflection of everyone, and everything, that made us who we are. On her 2021 a wonderful thing vomits, Liu was praised for her seamless integration of darkened, often ominous instrumentation and pillowy-soft vocals. As the front person of UK indie-rock trio Dama Scout, Liu effortlessly navigates a disorientating genre-bending sonic landscape with a playful, gentle dexterity. Now, with the help of Dama Scout bandmate Luciano Rossi as co-producer, Liu's first solo full-length builds upon these previous worlds to form a blossoming, more upbeat patchwork of lo-fi percussion, poignant lyricism and oddly alluring arrangements. The writing process of Rotten Bun for an Eggless Century prompted Liu to explore more of her Hong Kong heritage, allowing a space for acceptance and celebration. "I am Chinese and I am owning it," she explains. "Before, I would resent it. I tried doing things that would make me like less Chinese somehow." As the album began to take shape, Liu read the traditional Chinese folklore writings of Pu Songling and joined local East and Southeast Asian groups. It opened a portal into a new self, where Liu could blend her love of video games and film scores with traditional Chinese instruments.

ACID KLAUS, the new collaborative solo project from songwriter-producer and Northern England cult leg-end, Adrian Flanagan (The Moonlandingz, International Teachers of Pop, Eccentronic Research Council & lots more) announces his debut concept album co-produced with his music partner in the ERC, Dean Honer titled Step On My Travelator: The Imagined Career Trajectory of Superstar DJ & Dance-Pop Producer, Melvin Harris which will be released on Yard Act"s ZEN F.C. label. The album features contributions from Adrian"s long-time collaborators and friends including actress, Maxine Peake, US musician and video director, Charlotte Kemp Muhl (Ghost of a Sabertooth Tiger), Maria Uzor from Sink Ya Teeth and the Bradford-born pop-noir singer (currently singing in The Specials), Hannah Hu who is joined on lap steel guitar on a track by Richard Hawley. The album is completed by a whole host of fresh and exciting artists (as well as the aforementioned Lieselot Elzinga) - there"s the enigmatic Queen Bee of the Calder Valley, solo artist, Bianca Eddleston who goes under the name Soft Focus and finally from South Wales (and the current talk of the South London scene), the incredible welsh language singer-songwriter, Cat Rin.

After a rollercoaster two years promoting his last offering King Of Clubs in the middle of a global pandemic, alt-rock legend Jamie Lenman returns with the most intimate, most ambitious and most accessible album of his career. Recorded at The Chapel studios in Chichester over January and February this year with producer Mark Roberts, The Atheist is eleven tracks of guitar driven indie-pop, each laden with enough hooks to catch Moby Dick. With themes ranging from toxic friendships to socio economics to the religious topics inherent in the title, Lenman eschews the aggressive approach of previous records for a more melodic mood. “I’ve had a few of these songs kicking around for years, just waiting for the right album,” says Lenman. “Some of them were written for my first solo project Muscle Memory, some of them were even written whilst I was still in my band, but they were all too pretty. After twenty years of hard edges, particularly the ugly overtones of my last record, it was a relief to mellow out and just revel in the pure joyfulness of the thing.” From the huge earworm of Talk Hard to the stadium-sized chorus of Lena (Don’t Leave Me), the sheer catchiness of the material is undeniable, and was proven when Lenman took his new-look three-piece band to this year’s Download and played a set of entirely unheard tracks. The capacity crowd erupted into spontaneous sing-alongs despite never having heard a single note before, resulting in one of the surprise highlights of the weekend. Combined with dazzling artwork from renowned Washington Post/Wall St Journal illustrator Michael Parkin, Lenman will be unleashing his new softer side on an eager public later this year, alongside a string of live shows and the third iteration of his own mini-festival, Lenmania.

Felix Laband’s The Soft White Hand is the masterwork of an artist who expresses himself through musical and artistic collage acting together to reinterpret his sources and to express significant elements of his own personal story.

Released by Munich-based Compost Records, the 14-track album is Laband’s first full-length offering since the critically acclaimed Deaf Safari in 2015. It is heralded by the single “Derek and Me”, and is being pressed on vinyl for distribution globally.

In The Soft White Hand Laband works with source materials that will be familiar to those who know his previous four records – Thin Shoes in June (2001), 4/4 Down the Stairs (2002), Dark Days Exit (2005) and especially Deaf Safari which reached deep into the South Africa scene and its political culture to inspire its vocal and music sampling. However, the disengagement he felt from his homeland during his latest album’s creation – an abiding sense of untethered-ness to place and space, exquisitely rendered in tracks like “Death of a Migrant” – is perceptible in Laband’s desire to illuminate instead aspects of his own life.

“For this album, my source material became almost autobiographical as opposed to African statements I’ve worked with previously,” says the artist. “I have sampled a lot from documentaries from the 80s crack epidemic in impoverished African American communities and believe my work speaks unapologetically for the lost and marginalised, for those who are the forgotten casualties of the war on drugs. In the past, I have had my issues with substance abuse, and I know first-hand about the nightmares and fears, what it feels like to be isolated and abandoned.”

Few artists have managed to air these intimate aspects of their life so luminously as Laband does in tracks like “5 Seconds Ago”, “They Call Me Shorty” and in the strange and meditative “Dreams of Loneliness”. “I’ve been building this weird, autobiographical story using other people talking. It’s kind of humorous but it is also sad and beautiful,” says Laband.

Yet, as in all of Laband’s recorded output, the delineations between emotions are never starkly drawn and The Soft White Hand is also shot through with beauty. Nature appears in recordings made in his garden in the intimate early morning hours, whether as in the calls of the Hadada Ibis and other birdsong in “Prelude” or of the vertical-tail-cocking bird in “Derek and Me”. The last is a wonderful track with Derek Gripper, the South African experimental classical guitarist of international renown, whose 2020 song “Fanta and Felix” imagines a meeting between Fanta Sacko and Laband.

Laband’s eloquence in reinterpreting classical composers such as Beethoven in “We Know Major Tom’s a Junkie” is another thrilling aspect of the new record. “I’ve been properly exploring classical music on this album,” explains Laband, “taking melodies from classical compositions and reinterpreting them”. A fresh quality comes to his work through this sonic adventuring: the tender manipulation of the mundaneness of the computer’s AI voice to reimagine and reinvent iconic lyrics and melodies in strange and unexpected configurations.

The Soft White Hand is Laband’s most cohesive body of work to date. Yet it remains, in its sheer artistic scope, impossible to describe fully. Darkness abuts the gossamer light. A song that summons the sunrise and all the hope of a new day could also be about the final dipping down of the sun that portends a troubled night ahead. Interludes are invitations to expand outwards or shift inwards. Mistakes and “weird fuckups” in the sound are cherished as convincing statements against what Laband calls the “grossness” of perfect sound in modern music.

For this world-leading electronic artist, the boundaries are unfixed. He is inspired by the German Dada artist, Hannah Höch, who memorably declared: “I wish to blur the firm boundaries which we self-certain people tend to delineate around all we can achieve.” His music consequently reflects a primal artistic impulse that is also visible in Laband’s considerable visual art output as seen recently in several solo exhibitions such as that held in the No End Gallery in Johannesburg in 2019 and in the works he produced during his 2018 Nirox Foundation Artists Residency. “My music is always about collage, as is my art,’’ he affirms. “Everything I do is collage. It is a medium I find very interesting because you are taking history and distorting it and changing its meaning and turning it upside down and back to front.” In her book Recollections of My Non-Existence, Rebecca Solnit calls collage “literally a border art”; it is “an art of what happens when two things confront each other or spill onto each other”.

With The Soft White Hand, Laband is confirming his singular ability to achieve this in both art and music, melting the divisions between the two creative disciplines until they become one. He is also affirming his belief that an album of music should be more than a collection of unrelated tracks, but should unfold a fully integrated, cohesive story as in the song cycles of the great classical composers. In doing so, he claims his position as one of the most significant artists working today.

Artist Statement – Felix Laband – August 2022

When the Khmer Rouge took their captives for processing, they identified their class enemies by looking at their hands. If they were sunburned, rough and calloused, they were those of a peasant, a proletarian to be spared. But if they were soft and white, then they were those of a city-dweller, an intellectual or bourgeois, an adversary to be liquidated.

In calling this album The Soft White Hand, I was reflecting on the Cambodian genocide and how it resonates in contemporary South Africa. The apartheid era is over, and gone with it is white political domination. Yet economic and social privilege is still held in soft white hands. But those who grasp it know just how tenuous is their hold, how it singles them out, and my music reflects their subconscious fears, the stress and guilt of clinging on to what others envy and desire.

The soft white hand of the title suggests to me a further image, one that relates to all of postcolonial Africa. In my mind’s eye, I see the soft, duplicitous handshake of the smooth representatives of the superpowers making deals and promising gifts that benefit only them, and not their African dupes.
Yet, soaring above the wailing of sirens sampled from the first day of the invasion of Ukraine, my music is also about love gained and passion lost. It is about the tender caress of a soft white hand that conducts you into a place of dreams to be enfolded by nocturnal melodies.

ACID KLAUS, the new collaborative solo project from songwriter-producer and Northern England cult leg-end, Adrian Flanagan (The Moonlandingz, International Teachers of Pop, Eccentronic Research Council & lots more) announces his debut concept album co-produced with his music partner in the ERC, Dean Honer titled Step On My Travelator: The Imagined Career Trajectory of Superstar DJ & Dance-Pop Producer, Melvin Harris which will be released on Yard Act"s ZEN F.C. label. The album features contributions from Adrian"s long-time collaborators and friends including actress, Maxine Peake, US musician and video director, Charlotte Kemp Muhl (Ghost of a Sabertooth Tiger), Maria Uzor from Sink Ya Teeth and the Bradford-born pop-noir singer (currently singing in The Specials), Hannah Hu who is joined on lap steel guitar on a track by Richard Hawley. The album is completed by a whole host of fresh and exciting artists (as well as the aforementioned Lieselot Elzinga) - there"s the enigmatic Queen Bee of the Calder Valley, solo artist, Bianca Eddleston who goes under the name Soft Focus and finally from South Wales (and the current talk of the South London scene), the incredible welsh language singer-songwriter, Cat Rin.

In 'Christmas Morning', a song recorded for the 10th edition of the Snowflakes Christmas Singles Club, California folk singer Annie Jay remembers how special Christmas mornings were to her as a child. It was a magical moment. When she got older, the mystery of Christmas slowly disappeared. But not everything is gone. There is still the gathering together with loved ones every Christmas. And there are still children who wake up on Christmas morning and feel the same excitement that she felt when she once felt as a child. Annie Jay sings it all in a soft and sweet voice that is very easy to fall in love with and accompanies herself with the instrument that she fell in love with: the banjo. ‘Blue Christmas’, the song on the B-side of the single, has been covered by thousands of other artists since first recorded in the late 1940s and especially since Elvis Presley recorded it for his 1957 Christmas album. It only takes Annie Jay two minutes to make the standard hers - as if Billy Hayes and Jay W. Johnson wrote ‘Blue Christmas’ with her banjo and her vocal harmonies in mind.

Annie Jay lives in Upland, California and grew up with the music of Kenny Loggins, James Taylor, Carol King and Fleetwood Mac. After first teaching herself to play ukulele and guitar, her life changed when she discovered the banjo. It was then that she decided to follow the path of music. It brought her a BA of Arts in Music from the University of La Verne and it made her travel to Europe to play her music. Annie Jay formed the folk duo Your Companies and debuted in 2016 with the solo album 'Love Is All Around'. Earlier in 2022, she released the 6-song EP 'Time And Space' and a split 7" with California indie act Eatpianokeys, to which she contributed the beautiful song 'Talking To Plants'.

Dressed in a powder blue suit with the frilly shirt to match, DJ Yoda invites you to be his +1 for ‘Prom Nite’, his new album promising retro Americana full of daydreaming reverie, international megastar guests, trip hop acknowledging the likes of Morcheeba and Nightmares on Wax, and the turntable extraordinaire’s bread and butter of cuts, beats and rhymes.

Certainly no stranger to retro sounds having famously peppered his DJ and AV sets with the unexpected the world over, and his ‘How to Cut n Paste’ mix series going all the way back to the 30s, Yoda’s harp-laden puppy love vibe spreads from the sweet and mellow sound of 2019’s ‘Home Cooking’, an album described as ‘boundary-breaking’ by Mojo upon slotting nicely into the UK’s blooming jazz canon. Think deliciously harmonised doo-wop murmuring ‘Goodnight Sweetheart’ with an eye for dreamboats en route to Makeout Point – on ‘My Energy’, Eva Lazarus takes the form of an earth angel, with Yoda on jukebox cut-ups, taking it back to starry-eyed, clean cut days of wonder (or more recently, Little Mix’s ‘Love Me Like You’).

Beginning enigmatically with the assistance of Hollywood A-lister (and former next-door neighbour) Lily James, ‘Breathe’ demonstrate Yoda’s continued evolution as a musician (not to mention shrewd decision maker), with James’ vocal confidence - a little Lana del Rey to her breathiness - returning on the velvet-smooth ‘Airplane Mode’. It’s a smartly executed soundclash accentuated by LA rapper Choosey, the star of the album’s straightest hip-hop shooter ‘Harder I Rock’. Homeboy Sandman adds some kick to the prom punch with typical wordplay sent down ‘Coconut Grove’, and Liam Bailey is perfectly cast for the darkly cinematic sway of ‘Don’t Even Try It’.

On an album of many talking points, the LP’s crowning glory is opening single ‘Feel Like Home’: featuring the vocal comforts of the House Gospel Choir, it’s your go–to pick-me-up when the chips are down, targeting the hairs on the backs of necks like a softer focus version of Jamie xx’s ‘Loud Places’. Extended into an alternative, equally uplifting form by Beardyman’s ‘Don’t Mean Thing’, summer festival season already has its homecoming anthem.

With tongues wagging, the twists and turns step away from Heartbreak Ridge when O Love tucks into the mouthwatering shopping list funk of ‘Way Home’; and ‘Lesson 1956’, featuring Jamie Cullum and DJ Woody, jauntily pays homage to classic Cut Chemist alchemy, Yoda’s celebrated turntable tomfoolery back in full effect and extending the flavours found in ‘Home Cooking’.

Again maximising the experience and enjoyment gained from recording live instruments and prioritising songs over beats, Yoda continues to progress with a mixture of risk-taking, elite musicianship, nostalgia brought bang up to date, and ultimately, good clean fun capable of stirring your soul, making ‘Prom Nite’ a date to remember.

Magpie artwork supplied by London’s ENDLESS, whose signature style has tagged Liberty and Lagerfeld as but two high profile clients, Yoda again maximises the experience and enjoyment gained from recording live instruments and prioritising songs over beats. His continued progress mixes risk-taking, elite musicianship, nostalgia brought bang up to date, and ultimately, good clean fun capable of stirring your soul, making ‘Prom Nite’ a date to remember.

Featured 7” Vinyl singles:
Feel Like Home (feat. The House Gospel Choir)/ Don’t Mean A Thing (feat. Beardyman)
My Energy (feat. Eva Lazarus)/Lesson 1956 (feat. Jamie Cullum & DJ Woody)

"Most of this record was created in the shadow of COVID and deep in the maw of Melbourne’s 2020 long winter lockdown. It is a meditation on the nature of connection.

Restricted to a 5km zone, one of the only people I saw outside my family during this time was my old friend and teacher, Ania Walwicz. We met in the overlap between our zones on the waterfront near Docklands to walk and talk on bright, cool winter afternoons. Those conversations became large in my thoughts when Ania suddenly passed away in September. Her voice was in my head as I worked on this music, trawling through threads of ideas, recordings made on my phone, and thoughts jotted down in notebooks.

Ania’s practice as a writer relied on ‘automatic’ processes. Her work was informed by everything she had read (a lot) but it was created in the manner of dreams. In a state where the subconscious might bubble up and the words arrange themselves into meaning bearing forms that resonate more than represent. I thought a lot about that as I made this music. I recorded everyday using the trumpet, my old Revox reel-to-reel, a couple of synths, a harmonium I lent from a friend, and whatever else was around. I worked mostly on just diving a little deeper each time I sat down to it.

Through the simple process of exhalation, I explored my relationship with the trumpet, which has been through so many twists and turns. I let the tones produced by my breath unfurl on long tape loops and degrade beyond recognition through pedal and plugin chains, until the only imprint of the initial gesture remained.

My process also involved long bike rides during which I’d listen to the work of previous days on ear buds, gliding through familiar streets made slightly strange by the absence of people and movement. Often my rides took me along Footscray Rd next to the port, and as I washed down towards Docklands past the old boat moorings I stopped pedalling to coast. The sounds from my darkened studio mingled with the low rush of air past my helmet, the click and whirr of my bike gears, a squalling bird, a whooshing car. And I remembered my last conversation with Ania. Sitting in the late afternoon sun, squinting against the light that raked across the water, she was telling me about all the different words for they have for blue in Polish and Russian, and how words don’t just change our perception of things, but also actually change the thing being perceived.

As I rode home that afternoon, I felt like anything was possible. "

Peter Knight

Talkbox is multidisciplinary artist Michael O’Mahony’s third album and his first for 33-33. It’s his most complete and cohesive music project to date, a culmination of ideas, happy accidents and compositions that have been cut up and re-arranged over many years. The album’s sonic signature is the Vocaloid software synthesizer – the titular ‘talkbox’ – famously by Japanese cartoon Hatsune Miku. O’Mahony became aware of Vocaloid in 2015 through the popular Nyan Cat meme, which em marketed ploys the software. Excited by the emotive potential and realism of Vocaloid’s voice synthesis, he began to imagine an album that combined its capabilities with italo disco- and UK garage-inflected sounds. As the version of Vocaloid O’Mahony had access to sang only in Japanese, O’Mahony relied on Google Translate to obtain the required characters to enter into the software. In early experiments with the software, the north Londoner translated BBC match reports from his beloved Arsenal FC. Eventually, he amassed a library of syllables and phonetic sounds, from which he created the melodies crystallised on the record. As far as we know, these vocal lines have no meaning in lyrical terms. O’Mahony works largely in an iterative way; song ideas are reworked over and over in different styles, sometimes over a period of years. Multiple versions of a song might appear on an album, each one with its own particular nuances in feeling. Music perhaps does not always flow out of O’Mahony, but emerges over time. O’Mahony’s album forms part of his wider project: an analysis of his subjectivity through art and psychotherapy. The music complements his writing and video work, which feature in his performances. He writes in chains of association, speculating on topics such as family dynamics, or the meaning of recurring dreams about a childhood game console. His video practice features footage of objects found in his parents’ house, such as his sister’s childhood My Little Pony toy and his retired psychiatrist father’s lecture tapes. The music, at once synthetic and heartfelt, imbues the writing and video work with a strange tenderness. Taken together, these various aspects of O’Mahony’s work form a meditation on the emotional attachments we make to consumer objects and the role of early life in character formation. Tracklist 1/Talkbox 2/More Succinct 3/Electricity 4/Not Giving Up 5/Dinosaur 6/Trumpet 7/Electricity (Rock Version) 8/Aliss 9/Be Good 10/Not Giving Up (Slow Version)

New pressing on Opaque Natural Vinyl. For Fans Of... Durand Jones & The Indications, Tame Impala, Temples, Lee Fields. Monophonics cordially invite you to attend the grand re-opening of the once thriving, once vibrant establishment, the legendary Sage Motel. A place where folks experience the highs and lows of human existence. A place where big dreams and broken hearts live, where people arrive at without ever knowing how they got there. It's where folks find themselves at a crossroads in life. So join us as we examine where the stories are told and experiences unfold..... and sink into a soft pillow of soulful psychedelia.....down at the Sage Motel. Sage Motel, Monophonics' fifth studio album since 2012, tells its story. Once again produced by brilliant bandleader Kelly Finnigan, the album captures a timeless sound that blends heavy soul with psych-rock. With their previous album, It’s Only Us, selling over 10,000 physical units and garnering over 20 million streams, Monophonics have built a reputation over the past decade as one of the most impactful bands in the country. If these walls of the Sage Motel could talk, this is what they'd say. So join us as we examine where the stories are told and experiences unfold.....and sink into a soft pillow of soulful psychedelia.....down at the Sage Motel. Tracks 1. Check In 2. Sage Motel 3.Let That Sink In 4.The Shape of My Teardrops 5. Broken Boundaries 6. Love You Better 7. Never Stop Saying These Words 8. Warpaint 9. Crash & Burn 10. Check Out

Debut solo album from Julia Kugel (The Coathangers). Limited edition first LP pressing on heartbeat pink color vinyl, includes DL (1500 copies). If you can’t trust yourself, who can you trust? This is the crucial question at the core of Julia, Julia, the moniker for Julia Kugel, founding member of garage punk icons The Coathangers and the dream pop duo Soft Palms. On her first solo full-length album Derealization, Kugel shifts her focus from collaboration and band dynamics towards a singular artistic vision and private self-discovery. Steeped in the beguiling pop elements of her past work, Derealization is a meditative deep dive into the mind of a person struggling to understand a crumbling internal and external world. The album traverses a landscape of ethereal folk, atmospheric deconstructed pop, and dubbed-out country ballads, all centered around straight forward and direct lyrics. This juxtaposition of nebulousness and lucidity gives the album a sense of clarity emerging from the haze, an apt refection of Kugel's personal growth and journey toward self-acceptance. Derealization is based on weaving the unreal, unsaid, and unknown into an undulating sonic fabric. Vocal layering and abstract instrumentation convey a blurred desperation to connect to an emotional and psychological focal point. Moody, dark, and sumptuous, the record is a flow chart of Julia Kugel coming into herself as an artist and songwriter. The album finds Julia playing almost all the instruments and taking her first stab at engineering at COMA, her and her husband's home recording studio in Long Beach, CA. “You know how touring musicians often speak of whether home is real or tour is real? Well, it can lead you to lose grasp on ‘reality,’ especially when touring is taken away and you are left to wonder if anything was ever real, including yourself. Like you we're just playing a character,” Kugel says of her headspace leading up to the creation of Derealization. “Honestly, I kinda lost it, and through making this record I made peace with it and reconciled myself as a real person. I forgave myself and in turn forgave those around me. The song ‘Forgive Me’ is the apology I wanted to say and to hear. I wrote every song from that place and gained the confidence I was pretending to possess.” This raw and personal approach to the lyrics is present throughout Derealization. On the opening track "I Want You," Kugel creates a woozy sense of space with reverb-soaked drums and spaghetti western guitars while she lists off her desires for a mysterious “you.” Is she actually listing off her desires for herself? For the people around her? As she repeats "do you feel it?" in the song’s chorus, it feels as if she’s conjuring a magical thread by which we are all connected, showing us how our desires are all the same. On "Fever In My Heart" the listener is treated to a lush, acoustic techno track detailing the exhilarating madness of an emotional breakdown. Simple truths percolate to the surface on "Words Don't Mean Much,” as if clearing away the murk of platitudes and empty gestures. The journey continues on the detached and conflicted "Do It Or Don't,” an alluring walk through the winding road of lonely choices. The name for the project Julia, Julia is a look in the mirror, a reflection of what is hidden and unanswered, of what is real and what is transient. The experience of living life not as you planned it but as it unfolded, and the mysterious, magical pain that creates meaning.

Tracklisting 1. I Want You 2. Forgive Me 3. Impromptu 4. Fever In My Heart 5. Words Don’t Mean Much 6. Do It Or Don't 7. No Hard Feelings 8. Big Talkin' 9. Paper Cutout 10. Where Did You Go 11. Corner Town

"His music filled me with the urge to connect with the world," Kaitlyn Aurelia Smith says of Emile Mosseri. She first heard his work while watching the 2019 film The Last Black Man In San Francisco; just minutes in, she paused it to look up who did the score and wrote to him immediately. "I love Emile's ability to create melodies that feel magically scenic and familiar like they are reminding you of the innocence of loving life." Those talents saw recognition in 2020 with an Oscar nomination for Mosseri's original score to the film Minari. He was already a fan of Smith's and became increasingly intrigued by her impressionistic process as they started to talk. "The music feels so spiritual and alive and made from the earth," Mosseri says. "I think of her as the great conductor, summoning musical poetry from her orchestra of machines." I Could Be Your Dog / I Could Be Your Moon, their two-part collaborative album, introduces an uncanny fusion of their sonics. Constructed using synthesizer, piano, electronics, and voice, this soft-focus dream world is lush, evocative, and fleeting. It finds two composers tuning their respective styles inward as an ode to mutual inspiration, a celebration of the human spirit and its will to surrender to the currents of life. As a full album set, I Could Be Your Dog / I Could Be Your Moon moves fluidly from track to track, panning through textural vignettes. Two roughly 17-minute halves, the set evokes the bittersweet sense of something too bright or rare to last, a short-lived glimpse into a golden hour. There is a dreamy, elemental intention to this music, which Smith and Mosseri say came naturally, as they both embraced intuitive interplay throughout their creative back-and-forth. The stylistic threads of each composer are recognizable yet become more ambiguous as the album progresses, sewn into a singular vision.

8 years after his debut album entitled "What You Give", it's time for the Greek musician's second long player! No doubt, this is Bengoa's most mature work to date and a product of countless studio hours. Pushing his electronic sound forward, the Greek musician, dj, songwriter and label owner, delivers an outstanding 9-track LP, floating between trip hop, nu-jazz, mid and downtempo motifs. The extensive use of physical instruments like saxophone, trumpet, guitars, piano, percussion and bass add musicality and deepness to the whole record, on which Bengoa has also written most of the lyrics himself. "Music For Your Red Parts" flows like an undercurrent of nervy isolation and late night melancholy, toying with the emotional structure of it's own sound. Songs that signal something memorably, indelibly and hypnotically sexy, without talking about sex. Music that you feel - strong, soft and filled with emotion. It wants to meet you in your deepest parts. It will play games with you, fill you with sorrow, or send you into a deep reverie. out now through SAOS RECORDS.

O’o share many of the musical characteristics of their ornithological namesake. The Kaua’i O’O produced the most exquisite birdsong before its extinction in Hawaii in the late 1980s. The beauty and character of its voice was delicate and mysterious, tuneful and surprising. You can experience it with just a cursory websearch, a haunting cri de coeur from the last century. If the poor O’O is consigned to history, then life is just beginning for this French duo, based in Spain, who’ve won plaudits and awards already in their short musical lifespan.

O’o are about to release their sublime debut album Touche. This is not an endling, it’s just the beginning: “I found the name on a website of weird English language words, and I loved the way the letters were arranged like a pair of glasses,” says O’o singer Victoria Suter. “Afterwards, I went onto YouTube and started listening to the last bird of its species, calling for a mate that would never come. I thought: ‘Oh my God, that’s so sad’. Then we talked about the name and we thought it could be a nice thing to honour it and keep it alive in some way.”

Suter met her musical partner Mathieu Daubigné at college in Agen, South West France, when the pair were studying music theory in their teens. Victoria moved to Barcelona in 2010; Mathieu followed six years later. Their debut EP, Spells, appeared in 2018 a beautifully crafted patchwork of vocals and samples that is redolent of the uncanny vocalese of Laurie Anderson. The bird makes an appearance at the beginning of the EP: “Sweet tooth beak. Soft melody peak / Oh O’o, go round and round in circles / Looking for a honeydrop, til you vanish, til you drop”.

That sense of profound longing for something lost is carried over to Touche, as well as the same heightened sensory awareness of the world around them. What has developed in spades is the creative process. O’o have blossomed organically, augmenting their pop sensibilities. Avant-garde techniques have been brought to heel as the pair create off-kilter pop music that warms the heart and nourishes the brain. The catalyst that enabled this bold pop transformation came with the song ‘Touche’ itself, a saucy chanson at the heart of the album. Suter’s wry narrative about a botanical femme fatale is inserted into a lithe and skittish song with reggaeton beats and an inviting, balmy atmosphere.

“The song is about a flower which attracts male insects, producing the very same smell as the female of the species,” explains Victoria. “The poor male is fooled by the sex-appeal of this botanical trap, and gets so excited that he exhausts himself and wastes all his other chances of ulterior mating and having any offspring. The flower entices the insect in in mermaid-like fashion, to come nearer and touch her. It’s the hot track!”

‘Touche’ reaches into hitherto unexplored areas of pop, while the rest of the album is accessible in the way that James Blake, Radiohead or Kate Bush are accessible, and it always challenges, in a way that pop isn’t supposed to. Suter writes playful, poignant, observational songs that tell stories as well as tell us something about ourselves. Songs like ‘Dorica Castra’ are built upon the voice as an instrument, centrifugal and layered from its core.

Complimentary to this method is Daubigné, who brings startling innovation with found sounds, samples and clever vocal manipulations—creating unique, otherworldly sonic flourishes. A guitar whirs like a musical spinning top on ‘Spin’, created in Ableton; an Ondes Martenot appears to make a guest appearance on the title track, though it’s the ingenuity of the Prophet 8 synthesiser. “I’ll often say to Mathieu, ‘what’s that?’” says Suter, He’ll reply, ‘that’s your voice’.”

O’o found their own voice when they won a competition held by the legendary festival organisers Primavera Sound. Victoria entered the band into a competition she saw on Instagram, sending off rough demos on the final day of entry, thinking little more about it other than the fact Mathieu might be annoyed. Soon they would have to build a live set from scratch and figure out how to present their music for the first time. At stake was seventy hours of recording time at Aclam studios, used by Rosalía and Kendrick Lamar, and for the winner a coveted spot at the festival. A pool of 350 acts were whittled down, and then O’o triumphed at a Battle of the Band style face off.

The O’O might be extinct, but O’o the band have learned how to fly. Just watch them go.

"His music filled me with the urge to connect with the world," Kaitlyn Aurelia Smith says of Emile Mosseri. She first heard his work while watching the 2019 film The Last Black Man In San Francisco; just minutes in, she paused it to look up who did the score and wrote to him immediately. "I love Emile's ability to create melodies that feel magically scenic and familiar like they are reminding you of the innocence of loving life." Those talents saw recognition in 2020 with an Oscar nomination for Mosseri's original score to the film Minari. He was already a fan of Smith's and became increasingly intrigued by her impressionistic process as they started to talk. "The music feels so spiritual and alive and made from the earth," Mosseri says. "I think of her as the great conductor, summoning musical poetry from her orchestra of machines." I Could Be Your Dog / I Could Be Your Moon, their two-part collaborative album, introduces an uncanny fusion of their sonics. Constructed using synthesizer, piano, electronics, and voice, this soft-focus dream world is lush, evocative, and fleeting. It finds two composers tuning their respective styles inward as an ode to mutual inspiration, a celebration of the human spirit and its will to surrender to the currents of life. As a full album set, I Could Be Your Dog / I Could Be Your Moon moves fluidly from track to track, panning through textural vignettes. Two roughly 17-minute halves, the set evokes the bittersweet sense of something too bright or rare to last, a short-lived glimpse into a golden hour. There is a dreamy, elemental intention to this music, which Smith and Mosseri say came naturally, as they both embraced intuitive interplay throughout their creative back-and-forth. The stylistic threads of each composer are recognizable yet become more ambiguous as the album progresses, sewn into a singular vision.

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

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

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

In March 2020, Tahiti 80 had a plan to start recording their new album in the studio. That plan, of course, along with everything else in the world, got derailed. But the five-piece group was resilient and resourceful. They quickly shifted to a socially distanced plan B that included file swapping and virtual sessions, all refereed by producer Julien Vignon. The result, due for release in March 2022, is the buoyant Here With You, a collection of eleven upbeat songs that unfold like a prescription for a post-pandemic panacea.

“When lockdown in France happened, we said, 'We're not going to stay at home not doing anything,'” says singer-guitarist Xavier Boyer. “And our new plan became a hopeful thing, waking up every morning and seeing what the other guys had worked on. It wasn't always easy, but this new method allowed a freer approach where we could really go all the way with an idea without being influenced by each other’s suggestions. It must've been overwhelming for Julien, who ended up selecting all our arrangements. But he stayed positive all the way through.”

To help stay inspired and focused during their time in isolation, the band created a mood board, with the centerpiece a photo of an early '90s rave in the UK.

Boyer says, “Whenever you see pictures from this era, people seem very innocent. There are no cell phones and everybody is in to what they are experiencing. We kept that picture in mind as a kind of mantra that would help everyone feel connected to this idea of people celebrating, gathering and just having fun. We were missing the connection with people, and thought it would be great if we could create music that would inspire that kind of emotion.”

Indeed, the songs on Here With You are brimming the feeling of communion that we've all been missing over the past two years. It's there in the catchy opener Lost in the Sound, which walks the walk with Chic guitar flicks, urban nightfall sparkles and an inviting chorus (“Your heart grooves like a thousand 808s on the right time”). It's there in the Jackson 5-style syncopated bounce of “Vintage Creem,” the lush, dreamy “Breakfast in L.A.” and the panoramic sweep of “UFO.” And it's there in the first single “Hot,” which matches an irresistible groove with a neon-lit, percolating arrangement that evokes the disco clubs of 1979.

What's remarkable is that though Tahiti 80 displays a clear affection for sounds of the past, from bubble gum to '70s soul, they never trade in mere pastiche. Their take is more a slightly warped and playful carnival mirror mash-up of classic pop styles, given depth through Boyer's hang-gliding, coolly emotive vocals and lyrics that often rub against the euphoric grain of the music.

“I like to think of songs as a three-minute drama,” says Boyer. “This concept of drama definitely adds different levels to our music. There's the melody, the lyrics, then the production that can maybe emphasize or counterbalance the interaction between the yin and yang in a song.

“There's a difference between the very upbeat, sunshine-y soft rock and the lyrics, even on our past albums,” he continues. “Not dark, but a little more melancholy, and also looking for some kind of motivation, talking to yourself. Like with a lot of Motown songs, you get that feeling where you body’s dancing while your mind’s reflecting, reminiscing.”

That alluring blend of happy-sad has been a signature part of the Tahiti 80 sound from the time Boyer and bassist Pedro Resende formed the group in 1993, as students at the University of Rouen. Taking their name from a souvenir t-shirt given to Boyer's father in 1980, the duo recruited guitarist Mederic Gontier in 1994, and with the addition of drummer Sylvain Marchand a year later, the lineup was complete. The foursome released a self-produced and self-financed EP, 20 Minutes, in 1996, which resulted a record deal with French label Atmospheriques in 1998. Their full-length debut Puzzle, produced with Ivy's Andy Chase and mixed by Tore Johansson, went gold and featured the international hit “Heartbeat” that established the band throughout Europe and Asia.

In the years since, Tahiti 80 – with the additions of Raphaël Léger on drums and Hadrien Grange on keys - has released eight acclaimed albums. The band has fused what MOJO called a “glorious entente of old and new technology” (including singles like “Yellow Butterfly,” “1000 Times,” “Sound Museum,” “Crush!” and “Big Day,” which was featured on a FIFA video game soundtrack), while collaborating with such producers and arrangers as Richard Swift, Tony Lash and Richard Anthony Hewson, who famously arranged The Beatles' “Long and Winding Road.” Boyer has also put out two solo albums, the first under the anagram Axe Riverboy and the second under his name. In 2019, the band released Fear of an Acoustic Planet, a stripped-down reimagining of some of their best-loved tracks from the previous twenty years. It served not only as a look back but a reminder of their formidable songwriting skills.

Boyer is definitely a student of the timeless three-minute pop song format pioneered by '60s artists like The Beatles and The Beach Boys. He says, “I see it as kind of a frame for a painting. Most of the songs on this album, I wrote a verse, pre-chorus and chorus. There aren't many middle eights. I wanted it to be very concise. I feel like people have less attention. There's so much music. It's too easy to switch off or skip to another track, so I want to hook the listener. The three-minute song is kind of an easy code to crack, but at the same time you have to figure out a new way to tell the stories that we've heard before.”

And the stories on Here With You are very much about the longing for connection. Of the album title, Boyer says, “In the world right now, that can mean a lot of different things. Like missing our fans, missing going to concerts. In a way, it can be a statement of what happened last year, and a wish of 'I want to be here with you again.' It's our ninth album. We've had some had some very open, conceptual titles like Puzzle, Activity Center. Sometimes they were more specific like Fosbury orWallpaper for the Soul. Here with You, seems more personal, more engaging in terms of relationships. When I suggested that title, everyone in the band said, 'Yeah, that's it.'”

Until Tahiti 80 can resume a full tour schedule, Boyer says he hopes the new record will make that personal connection. “If I see from the point of view as a music fan, sometimes I see albums I like as companions throughout my life. So if we can be a part of people's existence, even if it's a song that reminds them of the time they were driving with the windows open and it was sunny. Or a sad song that resonates with them after a breakup. That's what we're all looking for when we're making music. You do this very personal thing and you want it to touch as many people as possible.”

Back in stock !

There is geological time and deep-space time. The natural world's time, and quantum time. Humans started measuring time with the stars and seasons. Then came hourglasses and sundials. The first mechanical clocks weren't in Europe until the late 13th century. Then came industrial time, a wristwatch for all and then everything had a time. A time for everything. All feeding into our recently digitised time and its marching nanoseconds. Let us not forget however another way to measure time: That would be K&D time.
Yes, you can rush, but isn't it so much nicer to amble? This onception of time may well have its roots in those smoke mists, softly blowing through the pre-history of 1995, and if that was time - then we need space. In particular, one Viennese front room that has turned its bass bins out to the cosmos. That sweet smoke, shrouding the desk and sampler. A few old keyboards (as a friend skins up at the back) unnoticed on the couch - just passing through...
Those days of K&D time had been thought to have gone. But one of times tricks is to hide itself in music. Not long ago (after a box of DATs had been found, and a DAT player prised back into service) back through the music wormhole our heroes fell into that smoke laden room of 1995. The remix time hadn't arrived nor the intense touring schedule. It was before the K&D sessions release and all that came with it, before the solo projects of the Peace Orchestra and Tosca. This was a time before all of that. A time for literally living in the studio and experiencing the joy of creating tune after tune. Just the sound and the smoke and no boundaries.
It was before people started asking about when the album was coming out. Which developed its own time specific answers. The 90s answer was soon, 00s answer was not sure and then: never! from 2010 onwards. The truth was, an album had been finished by the spring of '95 and all recorded onto DAT and placed in a box. K&D pressed up 10 copies and gave 4 away to some suitably eccentric individuals. Then the room's doors opened and in a tremendously big cloud of smoke time rushed in, K&D rushed out, and the years went rolling by. The days got filled with remixes, touring and life.
Then in early 2020 that chance moving of a box at the back of a room exposed the DATs and their time transporting properties. As K&D went through them they ended up comfortable and back in the room and that wonderful haze of 1995. The music was transferred from the DATs and K&D painstakingly rebuilt every molecule that made up the original 10 copies. From the very first takes of the mixes printed onto tape, to the solid slab of black virgin vinyl, to the abused by many plays, white cover. Even down to the labels that says "'Unverkäufliche Musterplatte" (Testpressing - Not For Sale) in rather rude German.
It now looks, feels and sounds pretty much exactly the same as those original 10 copies did in 1995. The only thing that couldn't be don is the original clouds of smoke those 10 copies were bathed in. That will be left to the listener to wrap it in the fresh harvest of 2020. In one way it's a musical time warp space travel. In another, if the music becomes classic and timeless, then it's of its time, whatever the time. So as the rooms bass bins are once again turned out towards the cosmos, K&D are happy and proud to release what they thought were lost moments. Drop through the worm hole, take your place on the couch. The friend who is skinning up, always just passing through, listening to an album for the future called 1995. It all makes sense if you measure in K&D time.

Biosphere is the main recording name of Geir Jenssen (born 30 May 1962),(1) a Norwegian musician who has released a notable catalogue of ambient electronic music. He is well known for his works on ambient techno and arctic themed pieces, his use of music loops, and peculiar samples from sci-fi sources. His 1997 album Substrata was voted by the users of the Hyperreal website in 2001 as the best all-time classic ambient album.

Patashnik was originally released by R&S Records/Apollo in 1994. It was number 1 in NME´s Independent Chart in March 1994 and reached number 50 in the UK official album chart.

The track Novelty Waves was used in Michel Gondry's Levi's 501 Jeans "Drugstore" spot, and holds - according to the Guinness World Records 2004, the record for "Most awards won by a TV commercial".

One reason why Jenssen's work stands out from the flood of early '90s ambient/techno releases is his strong sense of the quirkily creepy -- not in an Aphex Twin mode, but in his own particular way. The contrasting samples of a child quaveringly saying, "We had a dream last night," followed by a rougher sample saying, "We had the same dream," gives opening number "Phantasm" an unsettling feeling. Intensified by the, on the one hand, pretty, on the other, disturbing music, buried synth strings and a soft pulse accentuated by clattering noises deep in the mix, it kicks off the striking Patashnik very well. Though not as openly dark as acts like Lull, for instance, Biosphere still has an edge which isn't just melancholic, it's downright ominous at point. There's the slow crawl of "Startoucher," for instance, with its buried vocal snippets and deep bass drone, or the blend of the space signal atmospheres of "Mir" into the low, brooding intro to "The Shield." Not everything is so shadowy, though, Patashnik is primarily a relax and chill listening experience, but not without its gentle high points. "Novelty Waves," which became a crossover single in some quarters, has a good dancefloor sharpness to it even as Jenssen slyly sneaks in odd drones and samples through the mix. The opening snippet talking about an extraterrestrial disc jockey on "SETI Project" is good for a smile, as well as acting as a sharp lead-in to a fast rhythm track. Mostly, though, things continue on a deliciously unnerving pace throughout, gentle enough to go down easy but still just off enough to ensure you can't call this new age folderol for the rave generation.

"Laurel Hell" ist ein Soundtrack zur Transformation. Eine Landkarte für den Ort, an dem Verletzlichkeit und Widerstandsfähigkeit, Trauer und Freude, Fehler und Transzendenz in unserer Menschlichkeit Platz finden und als würdig angesehen werden können - um letztendlich anerkannt und geliebt zu werden. "I accept it all," verspricht MITSKI. "I forgive it all." Auf "Laurel Hell" festigt MITSKI ihren Ruf als Künstlerin, die die Kraft besitzt, unsere wildesten und zwiespältigsten Erfahrungen in ein heilendes Elixier zu verwandeln. "I wrote what I needed to hear. As I've always done." Nach der Veröffentlichung von "Be The Cowboy", einem der meistgelobten Alben des Jahres 2018, das von Outlets wie Pitchfork (u.a.) zum Album des Jahres gekürt wurde, stieg MITSKI vom Kultliebling zum Indie-Star auf. Mit spürbaren Folgen: Die Schinderei des Tourlebens und die Fallstricke die mit der erhöhten Sichtbarkeit einhergingen, beeinflussten ihre Musik ebenso wie ihren Geist, die sich in der ersten Single "Working For The Knife" niederschlägt. Ein Song, wie ein Prüfstein für das Gesamtgefühl von "Laurel Hell": "I start the day lying and end with the truth / That I'm dying for the knife." "Be The Cowboy" wurde von weiblicher Stärke und Trotz angetrieben, lebte jedoch von seinem Spiel mit Masken. Wie der Berglorbeer bzw. die "laurel hell", nach dem das neue Album benannt ist, kann die öffentliche Wahrnehmung, wie das berauschende Prisma des Internets, eine verlockende Fassade bieten, hinter der sich eine tödliche Falle verbirgt. Die sich immer enger zieht, je mehr man sich anstrengt. "I got to a point, where I just knew that if I kept going this way, I would numb myself to completion." Erschöpft von diesem verzerrten Spiegel und unserer Sucht nach falschen Binaritäten, begann MITSKI, Songs zu schreiben, die die Masken abstreifen und die komplexen und oft widersprüchlichen Realitäten dahinter offenbaren. MITSKI dazu: "I needed love songs about real relationships that are not power struggles to be won or lost. I needed songs that could help me forgive both others and myself. I make mistakes all the time. I don't want to put on a front where I'm a role model, but I'm also not a bad person. I needed to create this space mostly for myself where I sat in that gray area." Die daraus entstanden Songs verkörpern genau diesen Raum. Wie die zweite Single des Albums, "The Only Heartbreaker", die gemeinsam mit Dan Wilson geschrieben wurde und der erste Song dieser Art in ihrer Diskografie ist. "The Only Heartbreaker" verbindet treibenden 80er-Pop mit einem trügerisch einfachen Text, dessen aufrichtiger Refrain ins Ironische kippt, sobald dieser "the person always messing up in the relationship, the designated Bad Guy who gets the blame," beschreibt und sich zugleich fragt, ob "the reason you're always the one making mistakes is because you're the only one trying." MITSKI schrieb viele Songs für "Laurel Hell" während und teilweise vor 2018. Das Album wurde allerdings erst im Mai 2021 final abgemischt. Es ist die längste Zeitspanne, die MITSKI jemals für ein Album gebraucht hat und für die Musikerin inmitten einer radikal veränderten Welt endete. MITSKI nahm "Laurel Hell" mit ihrem langjährigen Produzenten Patrick Hyland in der Zeit der Isolation während der Pandemie auf, als einige der Songs "slowly took on new forms and meanings, like seed to flower." Das Album als Ganzes entwickelte sich "to be more uptempo and dance-y. I needed to create something that was also a pep talk" erklärt MITSKI. Die Spannung, die zwischen ihren raffinierten, aber wehmütigen Texten und dem sprudelnden Pop-Sound der 1980er Jahre entsteht, ist eine dringend benötigte Infusion in Zeiten wie diesen und das Werk einer reifen wie unwiderstehlichen Künstlerin, die auch zu fröhlich ansteckenden Dance-Beats immer noch etwas Profundes beizutragen hat.

"Laurel Hell" ist ein Soundtrack zur Transformation. Eine Landkarte für den Ort, an dem Verletzlichkeit und Widerstandsfähigkeit, Trauer und Freude, Fehler und Transzendenz in unserer Menschlichkeit Platz finden und als würdig angesehen werden können - um letztendlich anerkannt und geliebt zu werden. "I accept it all," verspricht MITSKI. "I forgive it all." Auf "Laurel Hell" festigt MITSKI ihren Ruf als Künstlerin, die die Kraft besitzt, unsere wildesten und zwiespältigsten Erfahrungen in ein heilendes Elixier zu verwandeln. "I wrote what I needed to hear. As I've always done." Nach der Veröffentlichung von "Be The Cowboy", einem der meistgelobten Alben des Jahres 2018, das von Outlets wie Pitchfork (u.a.) zum Album des Jahres gekürt wurde, stieg MITSKI vom Kultliebling zum Indie-Star auf. Mit spürbaren Folgen: Die Schinderei des Tourlebens und die Fallstricke die mit der erhöhten Sichtbarkeit einhergingen, beeinflussten ihre Musik ebenso wie ihren Geist, die sich in der ersten Single "Working For The Knife" niederschlägt. Ein Song, wie ein Prüfstein für das Gesamtgefühl von "Laurel Hell": "I start the day lying and end with the truth / That I'm dying for the knife." "Be The Cowboy" wurde von weiblicher Stärke und Trotz angetrieben, lebte jedoch von seinem Spiel mit Masken. Wie der Berglorbeer bzw. die "laurel hell", nach dem das neue Album benannt ist, kann die öffentliche Wahrnehmung, wie das berauschende Prisma des Internets, eine verlockende Fassade bieten, hinter der sich eine tödliche Falle verbirgt. Die sich immer enger zieht, je mehr man sich anstrengt. "I got to a point, where I just knew that if I kept going this way, I would numb myself to completion." Erschöpft von diesem verzerrten Spiegel und unserer Sucht nach falschen Binaritäten, begann MITSKI, Songs zu schreiben, die die Masken abstreifen und die komplexen und oft widersprüchlichen Realitäten dahinter offenbaren. MITSKI dazu: "I needed love songs about real relationships that are not power struggles to be won or lost. I needed songs that could help me forgive both others and myself. I make mistakes all the time. I don't want to put on a front where I'm a role model, but I'm also not a bad person. I needed to create this space mostly for myself where I sat in that gray area." Die daraus entstanden Songs verkörpern genau diesen Raum. Wie die zweite Single des Albums, "The Only Heartbreaker", die gemeinsam mit Dan Wilson geschrieben wurde und der erste Song dieser Art in ihrer Diskografie ist. "The Only Heartbreaker" verbindet treibenden 80er-Pop mit einem trügerisch einfachen Text, dessen aufrichtiger Refrain ins Ironische kippt, sobald dieser "the person always messing up in the relationship, the designated Bad Guy who gets the blame," beschreibt und sich zugleich fragt, ob "the reason you're always the one making mistakes is because you're the only one trying." MITSKI schrieb viele Songs für "Laurel Hell" während und teilweise vor 2018. Das Album wurde allerdings erst im Mai 2021 final abgemischt. Es ist die längste Zeitspanne, die MITSKI jemals für ein Album gebraucht hat und für die Musikerin inmitten einer radikal veränderten Welt endete. MITSKI nahm "Laurel Hell" mit ihrem langjährigen Produzenten Patrick Hyland in der Zeit der Isolation während der Pandemie auf, als einige der Songs "slowly took on new forms and meanings, like seed to flower." Das Album als Ganzes entwickelte sich "to be more uptempo and dance-y. I needed to create something that was also a pep talk" erklärt MITSKI. Die Spannung, die zwischen ihren raffinierten, aber wehmütigen Texten und dem sprudelnden Pop-Sound der 1980er Jahre entsteht, ist eine dringend benötigte Infusion in Zeiten wie diesen und das Werk einer reifen wie unwiderstehlichen Künstlerin, die auch zu fröhlich ansteckenden Dance-Beats immer noch etwas Profundes beizutragen hat.

"Laurel Hell" ist ein Soundtrack zur Transformation. Eine Landkarte für den Ort, an dem Verletzlichkeit und Widerstandsfähigkeit, Trauer und Freude, Fehler und Transzendenz in unserer Menschlichkeit Platz finden und als würdig angesehen werden können - um letztendlich anerkannt und geliebt zu werden. "I accept it all," verspricht MITSKI. "I forgive it all." Auf "Laurel Hell" festigt MITSKI ihren Ruf als Künstlerin, die die Kraft besitzt, unsere wildesten und zwiespältigsten Erfahrungen in ein heilendes Elixier zu verwandeln. "I wrote what I needed to hear. As I've always done." Nach der Veröffentlichung von "Be The Cowboy", einem der meistgelobten Alben des Jahres 2018, das von Outlets wie Pitchfork (u.a.) zum Album des Jahres gekürt wurde, stieg MITSKI vom Kultliebling zum Indie-Star auf. Mit spürbaren Folgen: Die Schinderei des Tourlebens und die Fallstricke die mit der erhöhten Sichtbarkeit einhergingen, beeinflussten ihre Musik ebenso wie ihren Geist, die sich in der ersten Single "Working For The Knife" niederschlägt. Ein Song, wie ein Prüfstein für das Gesamtgefühl von "Laurel Hell": "I start the day lying and end with the truth / That I'm dying for the knife." "Be The Cowboy" wurde von weiblicher Stärke und Trotz angetrieben, lebte jedoch von seinem Spiel mit Masken. Wie der Berglorbeer bzw. die "laurel hell", nach dem das neue Album benannt ist, kann die öffentliche Wahrnehmung, wie das berauschende Prisma des Internets, eine verlockende Fassade bieten, hinter der sich eine tödliche Falle verbirgt. Die sich immer enger zieht, je mehr man sich anstrengt. "I got to a point, where I just knew that if I kept going this way, I would numb myself to completion." Erschöpft von diesem verzerrten Spiegel und unserer Sucht nach falschen Binaritäten, begann MITSKI, Songs zu schreiben, die die Masken abstreifen und die komplexen und oft widersprüchlichen Realitäten dahinter offenbaren. MITSKI dazu: "I needed love songs about real relationships that are not power struggles to be won or lost. I needed songs that could help me forgive both others and myself. I make mistakes all the time. I don't want to put on a front where I'm a role model, but I'm also not a bad person. I needed to create this space mostly for myself where I sat in that gray area." Die daraus entstanden Songs verkörpern genau diesen Raum. Wie die zweite Single des Albums, "The Only Heartbreaker", die gemeinsam mit Dan Wilson geschrieben wurde und der erste Song dieser Art in ihrer Diskografie ist. "The Only Heartbreaker" verbindet treibenden 80er-Pop mit einem trügerisch einfachen Text, dessen aufrichtiger Refrain ins Ironische kippt, sobald dieser "the person always messing up in the relationship, the designated Bad Guy who gets the blame," beschreibt und sich zugleich fragt, ob "the reason you're always the one making mistakes is because you're the only one trying." MITSKI schrieb viele Songs für "Laurel Hell" während und teilweise vor 2018. Das Album wurde allerdings erst im Mai 2021 final abgemischt. Es ist die längste Zeitspanne, die MITSKI jemals für ein Album gebraucht hat und für die Musikerin inmitten einer radikal veränderten Welt endete. MITSKI nahm "Laurel Hell" mit ihrem langjährigen Produzenten Patrick Hyland in der Zeit der Isolation während der Pandemie auf, als einige der Songs "slowly took on new forms and meanings, like seed to flower." Das Album als Ganzes entwickelte sich "to be more uptempo and dance-y. I needed to create something that was also a pep talk" erklärt MITSKI. Die Spannung, die zwischen ihren raffinierten, aber wehmütigen Texten und dem sprudelnden Pop-Sound der 1980er Jahre entsteht, ist eine dringend benötigte Infusion in Zeiten wie diesen und das Werk einer reifen wie unwiderstehlichen Künstlerin, die auch zu fröhlich ansteckenden Dance-Beats immer noch etwas Profundes beizutragen hat.

Walking through a forest and paying attention to our surroundings revitalizes the senses enough to ease the drive to do something and is calming enough to allow us a moment of peace and tension release. Mindfulness and meditation come naturally when you allow your senses to focus on the slight and subtle changes around you. Take a deep breath of fragrant air, soak in the feeling of the textured ground and enjoy the sights of the slowly shaking treetops in the sky. Touch the moss-green, soft ground carpeting the shaded stones, sense the abrasive bark on the trees and smell the versatile odors of pure nature. Let the stillness around you influence your state of mind and make you forget the constant motion of society. Take a timeout, immerse yourself in the forest, use all of your five senses to experience everything to the fullest and surround yourself with life existing in this environment - you will realize that you are indeed a part of nature. Shinrin Yoku helps to rejuvenate the exhausted body and balances the body and mind. This is a sensory and intimate experience.

A Wide ranging, eclectic and progressive musical outlook has always been the Lack of Afro approach. His latest material follows suit as he harnesses disparate musical styles ranging from funk, soul and hip-hop to create a contemporary yet vintage musical escapade of superb songs.


On his 4th studio album for Freestyle Records, the influences, sounds and musical textures are more eclectic than ever. Below, Adam talks us through some of the his favourite moments on 'Music For Adverts'.


First out of the box is the steaming funk killer Freedom: This time around I knew I didn't want an intro or a skit to start the album - I needed a strong, heavy opener - I had the melody for the chorus floating around in my head. It was then just a case of working with Jack Tyson - Charles on the rest of it and getting the vibe that the song required.


Long time Lack Of Afro collaborator Herbal T features on Brown Sugar: I had an idea of doing a disco track with an emcee on it, which you don't really hear often. This is actually the first time I've sung on a Lack of Afro track, adding my backing vocal warblings on the choruses! Special shout to George Cooper for the howlin' Hammond solo at the end too.


Of the gritty instrumental No Guts, No Glory Adam explains: I wanted to include 3 instrumentals as I always have a soft spot for them & it's what people know me for. The 'choir' was recorded by layering up my own voice in different octaves, nothing is auto-tuned, its all real. The studio allows me to do stuff like that but I could never sing live - I'll leave that to the proper vocalists.


'Proper vocalist' Jack Tyson - Charles again features on The Gypsy, which as Adam explains uses the classic song format to great effect: One of my favourite LOA tunes to date, Its in keeping with the album mission statement of wanting to write 'proper songs' instead of just grooves.

After 2 quiet years, Mélodies Souterraines strikes hard! A very soft opus under the sign of Europa and its Japanese reflections. Influencing the direction of "K/L" - Miyako Koda's 'Sleep In Peace' (prod. Haruomi Hosono) defined the color of the following 40min. new wave comp. Incl. music by Electrodelia, Andy Rantzen, Jan Schulte, Zmatsutsi, Tolouse Low Trax or rare-as-teeth hit 'Analyze' by TASE... Probably the most sophisticated record of the series: In-motion, elegant, nocturnal. 300ex + insert & art by french underground graphic group Bazooka.

The anticipation is there in Elizabeth Stokes’ solo guitar riff under the opening lines of “I’m Not Getting Excited”: a frenetic, driving force daring a packed Auckland Town Hall to do exactly the opposite of what the track title suggests.

As the opener of The Beths’ Auckland, New Zealand, 2020 expands to include the full band, the crowd screeches and bellows. It’s a collective exhalation, in one of the few countries where live music is still possible.

The album title, and film of the same name, deliberately include the date and location, lead guitarist Jonathan Pearce says. “That’s the sensational part of what we actually did.” In a mid-pandemic world, playing to a heaving, enraptured home crowd feels miraculous.

In March 2020, everything seemed on track for another huge year for The Beths. Home after an 18-month northern hemisphere tour, they had just finished recording sophomore album Jump Rope Gazers and were primed for more extensive touring. But within days, New Zealand’s lockdown split the band between three separate houses. All touring was cancelled.

“It was existentially bad,” Stokes says. As well as worrying about economic survival, they lost something crucial to the band’s identity: live performance. “It's a huge part of how we see ourselves... What does it mean, if we can't play live?”

The band found an outlet through live-streaming, returning to the do-it-yourself mentality of their early days to connect with a global audience. The album and film have their genesis in that urge to share the now-rare experience of a live show, as widely as possible.

The fuzzy-round-the-edges live-streams pointed the way aesthetically. Native birds, wonkily crafted by the band from tissue paper and wire, festoon the venue’s cavernous ceiling while house plants soften and disguise the imposing pipes of an organ. The presence of the film crew isn’t disguised: much of the camerawork is handheld; full of fast zooms and pans.

With much of the material still fresh, the band was less focused on re-invention than playing “a good, fast rock show”, Pearce says. The tempo is up on crowd favourites “Whatever” and “Future Me Hates Me” (released as a live single on its third anniversary) as both band and audience feed off the mutual energy in the room.

Certain songs have taken on special resonance post-Covid. Pearce has found “Out Of Sight”, a tender rumination on long-distance relationships, hits particularly hard with live audiences.

Album closer “River Run” visibly brings Stokes to tears as a mix of achievement and relief kicks in. “You can finally relax at that point … You play the last note, breathe out a sigh and look up - and you’re in a giant room full of people happy and smiling.”

I first discovered khroniky – Ukranian folk songs – in the Highlands of Scotland. I was watching a screening of Bajka, a mesmerising documentary made by the filmmaker Lucia Nimcová and sound artist Sholto Dobie. I knew nothing about these ballads beforehand, but I was fascinated by these odd, beautiful songs, especially the easy way in which they mixed misery and levity, where gentle melodies blend with tales of dark violence. The folk songs describe hardship, murder, torture, death in gulags, heavy drinking, outsmarting men, love affairs. But they’re often very funny too – many of the songs make fun of marriage, and there’s an amazing subcategory of khroniky songs called potka (vagina) songs.

The khroniky have never been properly documented because they were considered too crude, or contained lyrics that were problematic, politically. When Ukrainian folk songs have been archived in the past, it’s normally a sanitised, more polite version of the ones that Lucia remembers from her childhood. Lucia grew up on the other side of the Ukrainian border in Slovakia. She is part of the Rusyn (Ruthenian) minority ethnic group found in the borderlands of Slovakia, Hungary, Romania, Ukraine and Poland. Rusyn is a centuries-old Slavic language, looked down upon as a poor, uneducated dialect by the neighbouring Ukraine and Slovakia. It was forbidden to talk about Rusyn culture at Nimcova’s primary school, but the khroniky stayed in her memories.

“I remember weddings when I was young,” says Lucia, who now lives in Addis Abeba, Ethiopia. “At the end of the night, when everyone was drunk and the young couple would go around their guests, people would sing in Rusyn. There was singing and dancing, and songs about being in prison or falling in love. I picked up the lyrics and sometimes my mum would make my sister and I sing them for people we met on the train. I was about five or six but the lyrics still come back when I sing to my kids.”

Determined that these rich, nuanced, unique songs shouldn’t be forgotten, she decided to record them. Over two years, Lucia, joined by experimental musician Sholto Dobie, visited Rusyn villages high in the Carpathian mountains to rediscover the songs and make the documentary. It was at the beginning of war breaking out in Ukraine in 2014.

“The Rusyn community is a very closed one,” explains Lucia. “Sometimes we’d have to wait several days to hear someone sing; we had to earn their trust before they shared something very personal to them. We’d stay up ‘til 5am at a wedding, then go straight to a morning baptism, or collect haystacks with the villagers, hoping they’d sing while they were working.”

DILO is named after an important independent Ukrainian daily newspaper that was shut down when the Red Army entered Lviv in 1939. The four long tracks on DILO blur field recordings with song; an unpolished, privileged glimpse into a private world. We hear dogs barking and insects buzzing in the summer heat, then a blast of hurdy gurdy or violin will drift in, or a plaintive song soars softly over the rural background noise, with casually harrowing lyrics about a cuckoo, “lifeless in a world of misery”, as translated in the album’s booklet.

For both Lucia and Sholto, it was important not to tamper too much with what they heard. “When you think about ethnography,” Lucia explains, “you have to have a lot of time, love and respect to document it with sensitivity.”

“The songs all have their own atmosphere and intimacy from the spaces they were recorded in and it was important to maintain these particularities and move with them,” adds Sholto, who now lives in Vilnius, Lithuania. “They guide and sometimes interrupt a journey between interiors – domestic spaces; in kitchens, by the fire – and exteriors; marketplaces, cow sheds. We used contact microphones to record metal bridges and fences, and we spent one afternoon recording a wool processing machine, the details of the rattling and tuning wheels are the ground layer for the third track.”

Lucia took rough notes and diary entries during the recording process, which are now shared in the booklet alongside a selection of lyrics, loosely translated, but revealing the depth and astonishing beauty that sometimes lies in the language of these folk songs.

The feel of the album is intimate, flipping between laughter, where a woman sings about selling her pussy to buy a cow in one track, then shifts to a raw, painful truth; an adult son asks his mother why his dad won’t be back for dinner, as he’s gone to war.

Since Lucia and Sholto began working together in 2014, they have shared the audio recordings on radio and film and shown photos in gallery spaces, making sure these special, smutty, poignant songs don’t get lost. This new record and booklet joins that same continuum, another glorious fruit from the same rare tree.

Cosmic traveller Herman ‘Sonny’ Blount became Sun Ra after an alien abduction, proclaiming that he came from Saturn and using music to point to human failure on earth, offering space as ethereal alternative. Supersonic Jazz was released in 1957 on Ra’s Saturn label and regularly reissued, even making it onto Impulse in 1974, its blend of bop, avant-garde and galactic well ahead of its time. More melodic and cohesive than many subsequent titles, ‘Advice To Medics’ is a troubling Ra piano diversion, and ‘Super Blonde’ a big-band stomp; ‘Soft Talk,’ by trombonist Julian Priester, is one of the vehicles for John Gilmore’s tenor sax and ‘Kingdom Of Not’ has uncommon swing. A must for all Sun Ra scholars!

The Savonian occult rock behemoth Jess and The Ancient Ones have emerged with a new album! Their brand of heavy guitar and organ-led swagger has progressed from the twin guitar metal blast of yesteryear to Jess and The Ancient Ones’ very own take on soulful late sixties garage psychedelia. Titled Vertigo, the new record is set for release on Svart Records on May 21st this year with a foreboding sound of lysergic doom. What began on the previous record, ‘The Horse & Other Weird Tales’ is taken further and deeper, towards a conclusion on Vertigo. Songwriter and guitarist Thomas Corpse comments, “To me this album sounds like a dark horse – a brother to the previous album. There’s a strange ominous feeling that hovers upon the entire album, maybe it’s the feeling of nostalgia that’s arising from the lyrics.” Wrapped in a crude tornado-adorned old school sleeve, the album’s eight tracks bubble in a boiling cauldron of vintage pop culture influence and occult-tinged paranoia. Ranging from the softly fiery opening track ‘Burning of The Velvet Fires’ to the almost heavy metal -ish nihilistic banger ‘Born To Kill’, Vertigo is a spiraling journey of heavy Finnish psych rock at its finest. The first single cut “Summer Tripping Man” is a heavy hitting prophecy of doom condensed into the classic three minute garage format, and it has already become a steady part of the band’s live set long before it was captured on tape. The single comes accompanied by an animated music video, created by Giuliano Di Girolamo.

The Savonian occult rock behemoth Jess and The Ancient Ones have emerged with a new album! Their brand of heavy guitar and organ-led swagger has progressed from the twin guitar metal blast of yesteryear to Jess and The Ancient Ones’ very own take on soulful late sixties garage psychedelia. Titled Vertigo, the new record is set for release on Svart Records on May 21st this year with a foreboding sound of lysergic doom. What began on the previous record, ‘The Horse & Other Weird Tales’ is taken further and deeper, towards a conclusion on Vertigo. Songwriter and guitarist Thomas Corpse comments, “To me this album sounds like a dark horse – a brother to the previous album. There’s a strange ominous feeling that hovers upon the entire album, maybe it’s the feeling of nostalgia that’s arising from the lyrics.” Wrapped in a crude tornado-adorned old school sleeve, the album’s eight tracks bubble in a boiling cauldron of vintage pop culture influence and occult-tinged paranoia. Ranging from the softly fiery opening track ‘Burning of The Velvet Fires’ to the almost heavy metal -ish nihilistic banger ‘Born To Kill’, Vertigo is a spiraling journey of heavy Finnish psych rock at its finest. The first single cut “Summer Tripping Man” is a heavy hitting prophecy of doom condensed into the classic three minute garage format, and it has already become a steady part of the band’s live set long before it was captured on tape. The single comes accompanied by an animated music video, created by Giuliano Di Girolamo.

Deap Lips is Wayne & Steven from THE FLAMING LIPS with Julie & Lindsey from DEAP VALLY. This special collaboration came together after a friendship formed between the bands.- - The seeds of Deap Lips were first planted years ago, when Troy and Edwards each fell in love with the music of the Flaming Lips. The Lips' 1999 classic The Soft Bulletin is one of Edwards' top ten of all time. "You can listen to their entire catalogue and the experience is so intact, full of experiments, philosophy, hooks, and the sublime," says Edwards. "There are very few artists who can offer the same experience on a decades-spanning deep dive."

Flash forward to 2016 as Deap Vally were touring with Wolfmother and Coyne turned up at a show in Raleigh (Edwards was on maternity leave at the time). Wayne, in town scouting the best edible giant gummy props, came for the show and Troy and Coyne were introduced after the set.

After that chance meeting Coyne started following Deap Vally on Instagram and would tag them in random posts of the Lips in the studio, much to their delight and amusement. Deap Vally wondered:
is Wayne hinting at a collaboration? They had this theme on the brain as Edwards and Troy had recently embarked on a series of yet to be released collaborations with the likes of KT Tunstall, Peaches, Jamie Hince (The Kills), Soko, Jenny Lee (Warpaint), Jennie Vee (EODM), Zach Dawes (Queens of the Stone Age, Mini Mansions), and Ayse Hassan (Savages).

To mark his highly anticipated album announcement, Saint Raymond releases a fresh IG track titled Solid Gold. "Solid gold is about trying to rekindle the spark and make things work because you know that there is something special in the relationship and it’s worth fighting for. It’s about knowing that all of the good things override the negatives." - Callum (Saint Raymond) Saint Raymonds follow up to the UK top 10 album 'Young Blood', will be titled 'We Forgot We Were Dreaming' and is out on April 16th 2021. It will be followed by a run of warm up shows in April 2021 and full tour in Nov 2021.

Mouse on Mars, the Berlin-based duo of Jan St. Werner and Andi Toma, approach electronic music with an inexhaustible curiosity and unparalleled ingenuity. ‘AAI’ (Anarchic Artificial Intelligence) takes their fascination with technology and undogmatic exploration a quantum leap further.
Emerging from a primordial ooze of rolling bass and skittering electronics, hypnotic polyrhythms and pulsing synthesizers propel the listener across the
record’s expanse. Hidden in the duo’s hyper-detailed productions is a kind of meta-narrative.
Working with AI tech collective Birds on Mars and former Soundcloud
programmers Ranny Keddo and Derrek Kindle, the duo collaborated on the creation of bespoke software capable of modelling speech; text and voice from writer and scholar of African Studies Louis Chude-Sokei and DJ/producer Yağmur Uçkunkaya were fed into the software as a model, allowing Toma and Werner to control parameters like speed or mood, thereby creating a kind of speech
instrument they could control and play as they would a synthesizer.
The album’s narrative is quite literally mirrored in the music - the sound of an artificial intelligence growing, learning and speaking. This exploration of artificial intelligence as both a narrative framework and compositional tool, allowing the duo to summon their most explicitly science-fiction work to date. Original artwork by Casey Reas, inventor of the computer graphics language Processing.
Recently, Mouse on Mars received the 2020 Holger Czukay Prize for Pop Music.
Mouse on Mars have been regularly streaming performances throughout 2020, partnering with organizations like Goethe-Institut, Haus der Kulturen der Welt, Conditions of a Necessity and others and will continue these in 2021.
‘AAI’ is available on grey or black double LP packaged in a single sleeve with full colour insert / lyrics. CD comes with 8-panel poster booklet.
“Andi Toma and Jan St. Werner continue to create soundscapes that blur the line between programming and live musicianship, and sometimes between Earth and outer space.” - AV Club
“Enthralling and impossible to categorize.” - Pitchfork
“Sustained and ephemeral electronic sounds conjure unearthly open spaces… It’s not a song; it’s sound as a temporal phenomenon, a few minutes of sculpted attention.” - The New York Times

Mouse on Mars, the Berlin-based duo of Jan St. Werner and Andi Toma, approach electronic music with an inexhaustible curiosity and unparalleled ingenuity. ‘AAI’ (Anarchic Artificial Intelligence) takes their fascination with technology and undogmatic exploration a quantum leap further.
Emerging from a primordial ooze of rolling bass and skittering electronics, hypnotic polyrhythms and pulsing synthesizers propel the listener across the
record’s expanse. Hidden in the duo’s hyper-detailed productions is a kind of meta-narrative.
Working with AI tech collective Birds on Mars and former Soundcloud
programmers Ranny Keddo and Derrek Kindle, the duo collaborated on the creation of bespoke software capable of modelling speech; text and voice from writer and scholar of African Studies Louis Chude-Sokei and DJ/producer Yağmur Uçkunkaya were fed into the software as a model, allowing Toma and Werner to control parameters like speed or mood, thereby creating a kind of speech
instrument they could control and play as they would a synthesizer.
The album’s narrative is quite literally mirrored in the music - the sound of an artificial intelligence growing, learning and speaking. This exploration of artificial intelligence as both a narrative framework and compositional tool, allowing the duo to summon their most explicitly science-fiction work to date. Original artwork by Casey Reas, inventor of the computer graphics language Processing.
Recently, Mouse on Mars received the 2020 Holger Czukay Prize for Pop Music.
Mouse on Mars have been regularly streaming performances throughout 2020, partnering with organizations like Goethe-Institut, Haus der Kulturen der Welt, Conditions of a Necessity and others and will continue these in 2021.
‘AAI’ is available on grey or black double LP packaged in a single sleeve with full colour insert / lyrics. CD comes with 8-panel poster booklet.
“Andi Toma and Jan St. Werner continue to create soundscapes that blur the line between programming and live musicianship, and sometimes between Earth and outer space.” - AV Club
“Enthralling and impossible to categorize.” - Pitchfork
“Sustained and ephemeral electronic sounds conjure unearthly open spaces… It’s not a song; it’s sound as a temporal phenomenon, a few minutes of sculpted attention.” - The New York Times

"Do you feel what I feel too?" Brijean Murphy floats the question at the start of Feelings, the full-length Ghostly International debut from Brijean, her collaborative project with Doug Stuart. Guided by a lush mix of charismatic keyboard chords, grooving bass lines, and radiant bongo-driven rhythms, the "Day Dreaming" lyric doubles as an invitation and a statement of intention. Brijean want you to move, physically, mentally, dimensionally; this is dance music for the mind, body, and soul. With Feelings, they've manifested a gentle collective space for respite, for self-reflection, for self-care, for uninhibited imagination and new possibilities. The album cultivates a specific vibe, a softness Murphy has come to call "romancing the psyche." Growing up in a family immersed in jazz, Latin and soul music, Murphy would become an accomplished DJ, session and live player in Oakland's diverse music scene and one of indie's most in-demand percussionists (Poolside, Toro Y Moi, U.S. Girls). In 2018, she began recording songs with multi-instrumentalist and producer Doug Stuart, who shares a background in jazz and pop in bands such as Bells Atlas, Meernaa, and Luke Temple. Following their first sessions, which resulted in the mini-album Walkie Talkie (released in 2019 on Native Cat Recordings), the duo continued freeform hangs in Oakland, inviting friends Chaz Bear, Tony Peppers, and Hamir Atwal. "We improvised on different feels for hours," says Murphy. "Nothing quite developed at first but we had seeds. We re-opened the sessions a couple months later, after returning from tours, and spent a month developing the songs in a little 400 square foot cottage." Aforementioned album opener "Day Dreaming" is a dynamic celebration of newness: the excitement in finding deeper understandings of yourself as you get to know someone, something, or somewhere new. "Wifi Beach" drops a pin in pure psych-pop exotica. With Atwal on drums, Stuart on bass, Peppers on keys, and Bear engineering, the group improvised the track's intro sequence based on the vision of a lavish 1970s pool party. Establishing the scene is a mid-frequency drum kit disco shuffle augmented by tight congas and timbale effect, as Murphy sings in spurts: "I want to be / Deep in love / I want to be / Say you love me too / I want to be / Honey." The stanzas cut between "reflective moments of wants and being overwhelmed by feelings of the present," she explains. "A lot of the `love songs' I write are to my psyche, self-reflections on how to encourage tender perspectives and make more time for the sweet stuff." Though there is a loose, dance-oriented motif throughout, the material gives way to somnolent turns. On "Ocean," Brijean's anodyne lyrics, reminiscent of Astrud Gilberto's airy croon, float atop a brushed drum pattern, sparkling rhodes lines, and pittering and softly funky woodblock bops. The opening line sets up the rest, "In this gentle space we lay" _ among the album's propensity for movement, tracks like "Ocean" stand out by leaning back for momentary sways of blissful introspection. Murphy calls the charming "Hey Boy" a "psychedelic guide _ the exploration of finding what feels good _ through sorrow, anxiety, apathy." This mentality applies to Feelings on the whole: in these nebulous and verdant worlds of hazy melodies, feathery hooks, and percussive details, the songs simply want us to feel alive. They radiate in wonderful abandon and with a sense of devotion to the self. RIYL: Stereolab, Astrud Gilberto, Air, Little Dragon, Broadcast, Khruangbin, Poolside.