Search:sole

Sacramento, CA duo Blank Gloss’s third album, Cornered, is an exquisite statement of pop ambient starkness, an album that oscillates between lush beauty and spare melancholy. It follows from their 2021 debut for Kompakt, Melt, an album that saw Morgan Fox (piano, synths) and Patrick Hills (guitar) aligned, loosely, with the cosmic pastorale of the ‘ambient Americana’ movement. Cornered feels like a significant step forward, though – by peeling back the layers of their music, they’ve revealed both its restful core and its solemn gravitas. It is unendingly lovely, but with something disquieting at its centre.

Cornered was recorded quickly, over two days in December 2020. There’s nothing rushed or haphazard about the album, though; everything has its place, with each sonic element contributing profoundly to these nine miniature dioramas. It signals change, quietly but perceptibly, through the way the duo sculpts their material, building out of loose improvisations that morphed into songs. While there was no plan in mind when Blank Gloss settled into the studio, Fox recalls that “right away we realised that things were sounding and feeling a bit different than any of the sessions we had previously.”

That difference can be heard in the increased amount of space Blank Gloss gift to their sound sources. Some of the most moving moments on Cornered come when Fox and Hills strip everything back – see, for example, “Crossing”, which sets pensive piano across a shyly humming drone and quiet arcs of guitar, recalling the driftworks of Roger Eno. Curiously, the album’s distinctive shape and mood develops, at least in part, from a change in instrumentation, with Hills using a MIDI pick-up on his guitar. “This resulted in making things happen a lot quicker,” Fox says. “It also helped create what I think is a bit more sombre, dark feeling to some of the songs.”

Elsewhere, on songs like “Salt”, the piano tussles with flecks of guitar, single tones sent out to mingle with the stars, like Morricone at 16 RPM, while Cornered’s centrepiece, the eleven-minute “No Appetite”, lets long arcs of electronic texture breathe and sigh, tangling together in a cat’s cradle of bliss. Throughout, it feels as though the music is blossoming as you hear it, like watching time-lapse footage of flora in bloom. But perhaps the most seductive thing about Cornered is the sense you get, listening, that the music was something unexpected, a visitation. “It almost felt like we weren’t dictating where the music went and how it sounded,” Fox agrees. “We were just there in a room together in December and these sounds were happening, and we were lucky enough to be recording the process.”

Cornered, das dritte Album des kalifornischen Duos Blank Gloss aus Sacramento, ist ein exquisites Statement von pop ambienter Krassheit, ein Album, das zwischen üppiger Schönheit und sparsamer Melancholie oszilliert. Es folgt ihrem 2021er Debüt für Kompakt, Melt, einem Album, auf dem sich Morgan Fox (Klavier, Synthesizer) und Patrick Hills (Gitarre) locker an der kosmischen Pastorale der „Ambient Americana“-Bewegung ausrichteten. Cornered fühlt sich jedoch wie ein bedeutender Schritt nach vorne an – indem sie die Schichten ihrer Musik abschälen, haben sie sowohl ihren ruhigen Kern als auch ihre feierliche Schwere offenbart. Es ist unendlich schön, aber mit etwas Beunruhigendem in seiner Mitte.

Cornered wurde relativ schnell aufgenommen, über zwei Tage im Dezember 2020. Es klingt jedoch nichts überstürzt oder willkürlich an diesem Album; alles hat seinen Platz, wobei jedes Klangelement einen wesentlichen Beitrag zu diesen neun Miniaturdioramen leistet. Es signalisiert Veränderung, leise, aber wahrnehmbar, durch die Art und Weise, wie das Duo sein Material formt und aus losen Improvisationen aufbaut, die sich in Songs verwandeln. Als Blank Gloss sich im Studio niederließen, gab es zwar keinen Plan, aber Fox erinnert sich: „Uns war sofort klar, dass sich die Dinge etwas anders anhörten und anfühlten als bei allen vorherigen Sessions.“

Dieser Unterschied ist in der größeren Menge an Raum zu hören, die Blank Gloss ihren Klangquellen bietet. Einige der bewegendsten Momente auf Cornered kommen, wenn Fox und Hills alles zurücknehmen – siehe zum Beispiel „Crossing“, wo ein nachdenkliches Klavier über einen schüchtern summenden Drone und leise Gitarrenloops setzt und an die Driftworks von Roger Eno erinnert. Seltsamerweise entwickelt sich die unverwechselbare Form und Stimmung des Albums zumindest teilweise aus einer Änderung der Instrumentierung, bei der Hills einen MIDI-Tonabnehmer an seiner Gitarre verwendet. „Dies führte dazu, dass die Dinge viel schneller abliefen“, sagt Fox. „Es hat auch dazu beigetragen, einigen der Songs ein etwas düstereres, dunkleres Gefühl zu verleihen.“ An anderer Stelle, bei Songs wie „Salt“, spielt das Klavier mit Gitarrenfetzen, einzelne Töne werden ausgesandt, um sich mit den Sternen zu vermischen, wie Morricone bei 16 U/min, während Cornereds Herzstück, das elfminütige „No Appetite“, lange Bögen schlägt, elektronische Texturen atmet und seufzt, um sich in einem Katzenkörbchen der Glückseligkeit zu verheddern. Während des Hörens fühlt es sich an, als ob die Musik blüht, als würde man sich Zeitrafferaufnahmen von blühenden Pflanzen ansehen. Aber das Verführerischste an Cornered ist vielleicht das Gefühl, das man beim Zuhören bekommt, dass die Musik etwas Unerwartetes war, eine Heimsuchung. „Es fühlte sich fast so an, als hätten WIR nicht diktiert, wohin die Musik geht und wie sie klingt“, stimmt Fox zu. „Wir waren just im Dezember zusammen in einem Raum, als diese Geräusche passierten, und wir hatten das Glück, dass die Aufnahme mitlief.”

"Dans cent ans" is not a record: it’s a talisman.
Flavien Berger doesn’t make music, he makes time machines.
In 2015, he released his first album, Leviathan, which he’d imagined like a moment suspended into the bowels of present time.
In 2018, Contre-Temps, his critically acclaimed second album, was narrated like a flashback.
Dans Cent Ans (“In 100 Years”) ends this trilogy and launches into the future with the grace of a poisonous serpent.
Flavien had just finished producing Pomme’s last album and was simultaneously scoring Céline Devaux’s feature film Tout le monde aime Jeanne, when he recorded this album, during six months of isolation.
In the garret of a Belgian house in construction, these 12 tracks were born, close to the sky, both direct and mysterious.
Because Flavien Berger knows how to make machines sound sensual (a key example is the pop song “D’ici là”) and dares to interweave electronics, chanson and art music, organic instruments and synthetic choirs, without ever falling into parodic territory.
Because his voice, more precise, unreverbed, and close-mic’d than ever, sings to our ears – using multisyllabic rhymes (“Trop ivres pour te plaire / Tropiques du cancer”) and surrealist imagery (“la neige restera rose” – “the snow will remain pink”) – stories that feel unknown yet obvious.
And like both previous albums ended with a long eponymous track like a breath of air, “Leviathan” and “Contre-temps”, so does “Dans Cent Ans”, a 15-minute long saga where vocals, wind instruments and machines converse, as if Debussy, Etienne Daho and a Sufi Dervish met in a dream.
After listening to this album, the vertigo of love and the collision of times are one and the same.
In one hundred years, music will survive us all, and its dangerous beauty will awaken other lives. In the meantime, Flavien Berger keeps stunning ours.

Blickwinkel welcomes Joseph Kudirka to its label with the release of his new album »Music Box Music«. As the title suggests, the album is entirely made with music boxes and is based on compositions which were sent to him by friends. Over the course of the several lockdowns, Kudirka carefully translated these compositions (read: punched holes) into suitable sheets for the instrument. Given the sole use of these music boxes, it’s not a surprise that the overall sound of the album has a fragile and tactile touch. However, the nature of the compositions add a modern substantial layer resulting in a surprising and refreshing take on this instrument.

Bottle Rockets leader Brian Henneman
worked as Uncle Tupelo’s guitar tech
for a couple of years before forming an
alt-country band that rivalled his former
bosses. Released in Atlantic in 1997,
24 Hours a Day represented The Bottle
Rockets’ chance at the big time; it’s
their sole major label release, and they
pulled out all the stops for this one,
hiring former Del Lord Eric “Roscoe”
Ambel to produce and revisiting
“Indianapolis,” the song that got Henneman a record deal back in the early
‘90s. Alas, the record failed to break through commercially; but there will
always be a place in our hearts for this kind of hard-driving, honest, tuneful
rock and roll, best exemplified by “Perfect Far Away” and “When I Was
Dumb.” For its LP debut, we’re pressing this underappreciated classic in
coke bottle (natch) clear vinyl housed inside an album jacket with inner
sleeve…limited to 1000 copies!

In 2021 Velocity Press published Who Say Reload: The Stories Behind the Classic Drum & Bass Records of the 90s, an oral history of the records that defined jungle/drum & bass straight from the original sources. The deluxe coffee table book has since sold thousands of copies and prompted many to comment that it should have an accompanying soundtrack.

Now author Paul Terzulli has compiled a Who Say Reload album. However, where the book focused solely on classics and anthems, the compilation takes a different route and offers up a selection of top-quality tunes from some of the scene’s most respected artists and labels.

Like the book, the album covers the genre’s nineties golden era, and the many styles of D&B are represented. Pioneering producers and crowd-pleasing favourites sit alongside a few sought-after obscurities by the unsung heroes of the scene. Most importantly, there are some absolute bangers!

The 16 tracks are spread over two volumes of 2 x 12"s, and there is also a 13-track digital version, taking you on a journey through music forged from raw breakbeats and basslines that soundtracked a culture of all-night raves, specialist record shops and pirate radio stations.

Jungle/drum & bass is approaching its 30th anniversary. Its sonic and cultural legacy is still being felt today. There’s still plenty of old music that might be “new” to some, and these tunes still pack as much of a punch as they did back in the day. That unique energy generated by a combination of breakbeats, bass and creativity never gets old.

Produced in conjunction with Above Board distribution. All tracks mastered from original sources and fully licensed. Mastering by Beau Thomas @ Ten Eight Seven Mastering. Liner notes from Who Say Reload author Paul Terzulli. Photography by Eddie Otchere. Artwork and design by Protean Productions.

Close to five years on from their last transmission, Ulrika Spacek resurface from self-imposed exile with their third album, Compact Trauma, a collection of songs that function as a chance treatise of sorts for our current collective condition. With a title like that arriving at this point in time, it's tempting to interpret the record solely in the context of the global events of the past few years, but the roots of these ten songs arc back much further in time, charged with their own personalised internal damage. Trauma, in its myriad forms, is often hard to qualify, even harder to rationalise. When something begins to go wrong, how do you gain perspective? What is a temporary roadblock, and what is unmitigated disaster? In its first phase of life, Compact Trauma was a document of a band striving to perfect an idea while the universe around them seemed to want to shut down. And then, at an impasse of sorts and with a record halfway complete, it suddenly did. If Ulrika Spacek were a band in need of the breaks applying, it was the force of a global pandemic that made it happen. As the world stood still, Compact Trauma was filed away, unfinished and unheard by the wider world, possibly to remain that way forever. And yet, there was to be a second act. If mutability is our tragedy, it's also our hope, clearer days slowly began to emerge as the bad slipped away. The wound, as the saying goes, is the place where the light enters you. The prolonged break enforced by myriad lockdowns may have separated the group but it also afforded the five time to reflect on what had already been committed to tape.. As the lights came back on and the shutters up, they found themselves drawn back towards Compact Trauma. What they rediscovered was a record that seemed to preempt the shared grief of a global pandemic. Even if the specifics were different, the themes were uncannily similar. Addressing existential freak out, displacement, substance reliance and encroaching self-doubt, these highly personalised songs suddenly took on a wider significance, speaking in part to a bigger narrative. They could have left it alone, but in coming back to what they knew, Ulrika Spacek found their best work yet. RIYL: Mercury Rev, Sonic Youth, My Bloody Valentine, Radiohead, Deerhunter, Atlas Sound, Stereolab.

Classic 5th studio album (2001) from Norwegian symphonic Black Metal band, now remixed and remastered.

Released for the very first time in the format it was recorded for. • The Holy grail of Bolan’s unreleased soul recordings as producer • Includes completely unheard version of Do Your Thing taken from newly acquired original reels. • Features completely reworked version of classic T. Rex Tracks ‘Jitterbug Love’, ‘Get it On’, ‘Sunken Rags’, and the never released in Marc’s lifetime ‘Sailors of the highway’. • Besides some self-released gospel recordings Pat Hall never released anything again. This album remains the sole released recordings of this extraordinary singer.

David Walters's new album Soul Tropical on French label Heavenly Sweetness is perfectly titled. It is a lush collection of soul so tropical you feel as if you're dancing deep in a steamy jungle as the music uplifts and truly nourishes. It draws on his family heritage in the West Indies and finds David once again singing about this famous string of sun-kissed islands across 13 joyful cuts. These are tracks with rich arrangements and plenty of world instruments making a fusion of disco, zouk, Caribbean, Afrobeat and funk that make a lasting impression. An essential album as summer approaches.

Equipped with a cassette porta studio and a mic found in a recycling bin, Your Planet Is Next has put together an album of 10 tracks stripped down to their essentials. Half of the them were produced using a Yamaha CS-01 synthesizer and a Yamaha MR-10 drum machine — the perfect 1982 budget combo — while the other half were made solely with a Yamaha CS-10 synthesizer and a Boss DR-55 drum machine, both from the late 70s and budget options even in their heydays. As many times before throughout music history, pristine sound quality had to be sacrificed for pristine creativity... After all, ideas are what makes the world turn, not high fidelity!

Die englische Rockband ASIA, die 1981 in London
gegründet wurde, verkaufte mehrfach Platin und gilt
weltweit als Superstars. "Heat Of The Moment", eine
riesige Soft-Rock-Hymne mit anhaltendem, weltweitem
Radioerfolg, ist ihr bestes und bekanntestes Stück, das in
über einem Dutzend Ländern die Top 40 erreichte. Diese
mitreißende Live-Show mit 18 Titeln von der Welttournee
zum 25-jährigen Jubiläum von Asia im Jahr 2007 zeigt die
neu formierte Originalbesetzung mit Sänger/Bassist John
Wetton von King Crimson, Gitarrist Steve Howe und
Keyboarder Geoff Downes von Yes und Schlagzeuger
Carl Palmer von Emerson, Lake & Palmer. Das Album
wurde am 8. März 2007 in der "Shinjuku Kosei Nenkin
Hall" in Tokio, Japan, aufgenommen und erscheint
erstmals auf Vinyl.
Das Booklet dieser neuen 3LP-Veröffentlichung enthält
seltene Fotos und Anmerkungen des bekannten
Asia-Autors Dave Gallant mit Originalzitaten der
Bandmitglieder. Das Cover-Artwork stammt von dem
legendären Designer Roger Dean, der alle Original-Cover
der Asia-Alben entworfen hat. "Fantasia" ist eine
beeindruckende Erinnerung an das majestätische
Vermächtnis dieser unglaublichen Band und an den
künstlerischen Werdegang der vier Originalmitglieder von
Asia. Dieses wegweisende Konzert ist ein unverzichtbares
Set

CIRCLING RAGAS OF RESOUNDING POWER FROM THE BEATING HEART OF BELGIAN DRONEVOLK

Hailing from Geel, Jef Mertens has been researching, documenting and subtly exploring the experimental music scene in Belgium and beyond for the better part of two decades. As a filmmaker, he’s dug deep in the realm of Flemish primitive fringe (Dronevolk) and chronicled the makings of giants like Sonic Youth and Borbetomagus. After running the now-defunct free tape label Dadaist Tapes, Mertens comes with a release of his own: NO MATHEMATICS, the first record collab between KRAAK and Feeding Tube. It’s an entrancing debut, where shruti box and guitar conjoin to create circling ragas of solemn yet resounding force.

2023 Repress

Almost 2 years after the success of the album The Tony Allen Experiments and a few months after the release of the 7inch Amore, Nu Guinea returns to the scene with a new LP published by their newborn label NG RECORDS.

After touring the world looking for sounds suitable for their vibrations, NU GUINEA decided to go back to square one, Napoli, where Massimo Di Lena and Lucio Aquilina were born and raised. They watched their city from a distance reconstructing its energy from their studio in
Berlin, calibrating the synths on the meridian of Vesuvius, the volcano that has always protected and threatened Napoli.

Nuova Napoli is the result of a long musical research that has become a historical investigation on the sound that shaped Napoli during the ‘70s and ‘80s, starting from the contamination of genres (disco, jazz-funk, African rhythms) which ended up in Nu Guinea’s DNA.

In this album the synthesizers fill the spaces between the past and the future, tightening in a single body acoustic instruments, electronics and voices in Neapolitan dialect. It is the first time that the duo has worked with such a large group of musicians, some of whom are exponents of the contemporary Neapolitan scene.

WARNING: We recommend listening to Nuova Napoli while walking in the alleys of Napoli’s
historic center, around wet clothes hanging and street vendors on tiny three-wheelers.

Impatiently returning to the golden age of Ecuadorian musica national, this second round of retrievals is more of a selectors’ affair: less reverent, more free-flowing, with more twists and turns. There is no let-up in musical quality, maintaining the same judicious, heart-piercing balance between emotional desolation and dignified endurance, the same bitter-sweet play between affective excess and musical sublimity.

This time around, the woman steal the show. Laura and Mercedes Suasti were child stars, with an exclusive Radio Quito contract. Unlike nearly all the men here, they lived long and prospered: Mercedes died last year, at the age of 93. Gladys Viera and Olga Gutierrez both came to Ecuador from Argentina. To start, Gladys plugged the scandalous new Monokini swimwear; Olga performed for visiting British royalty in 1962. Olga was glamorous but tough. She would make little of the amputation of one of her legs: ‘I don’t sing with my leg.’ She is accompanied on our opener by quintessentially reeling, sultry musica national: haunted-house organ, twinkling xylophone, Guillermo Rodriguez’ heart-plucking guitar-playing, and lilting, dance-to-keep-from-crying double-bass. ‘Sometimes I think that you will leave me with no memories,’ she sings, ‘that you hold only disappointments in store for me… In the future your love will search me out, full of regret. By then it will be too late, there will be no consolation, only disappointment awaiting you.’

Other highlights include the two contributions of Orquesta Nacional: Ponchito Al Hombro, like an off-the-wall forerunner of the Love Unlimited Orchestra, beamed into the tropics from an unknowable time and space; and the tone poem Atahualpa, a mystical yumbo invoking Quito’s most ancient inhabitants, the Kichwa. Also the tremulous, gypsy-flavoured violin-playing of Raul Emiliani, who arrived in Quito from Italy, suffering PTSD from the Second World War; the inscrutable, sardonic experimentalism of organist Lucho Munoz; and the mooing and whistling of Toro Barroso — school of Lee Perry — in which a muddy bull dashes home to his darling chola, fearless, full of desire.

Lavishly presented, with a full-size, full-colour booklet, with transporting art-work and expert notes. Luminous sound, by way of Abbey Road, D&M and Pallas.

On Origins Chris Bartels takes on the role of singer-songwriter for the first time under his Elskavon moniker, unveiling a voice that wouldn't sound out of place next to vocal-forward artists like Justin Vernon, Jónsi, or Baths, who master the balance between conventional songcraft and bold, idiosyncratic experimentation. Origins is vast yet intimate, fluttering yet cohesive, tattered yet clean, a little like rainfall during sunlight. Shedding the ambient-classical confines of his previous output, the album's opener and title track, offers a swirling mosaic of acoustic textures that recall the beloved duo The Books, laced with warped vocal utterances flitting in and out of a club-friendly beat. "Origins" is followed by the equally danceable "Coastline," which drives home the smiling melodies and intricate sound-design that form the spine of Origins, keeping Bartels' voice in a largely decorative and impressionistic role up to this point. "Blossom and the Void" dissolves the introductory tension as Bartels comes out lyrically swinging, his digitized voice chanting widely over the mutated New Wave-esque anthem. Here, Bartels shows his instinct for dynamics by rising to bombast and quickly dispelling it, making steep yet grace- ful descents into skillfully delicate sound-design. Throughout Origins, the patient glacial aesthetic of his previous work is still discernible-- there are wordless, expansive panoramas that stretch out patiently for minutes at a time and smartly resist the impulse to pack each moment with a persona made even more impactful when Bartels chooses to wield it. At other times, his spokesmanship is woven discreetly into a larger tapestry, like on "See Out Loud" (and its ambient reprise) where Bartels' voice shimmers from a distance, covering the scene in diffuse splendor. "There is so much warping, mangling, re-sampling, reversing and pitching," Bartels says of his intricate vocal manipulations. "I printed a lot of the vocal recordings onto a tape machine from the `60s, first at one speed, and then I'd halve, or double the speed going back into my comput- er," he elaborates, illustrating how this kind of analog processing freed him from his habits. "Sometimes I'd do this multiple times on one recording or layer-- it gave me such a unique and unexpected sound. At this point, I threw away any inhibition on what type of vocals to have, or not have, on the album." This newfound freedom is palpable in the peaks of soaring grandeur that dot the emotional landscape of Origins. "All These Years" cathartically reaches one such summit in its second half after laying a path of gently plodding indie-IDM in its first. The cinematic vignette "Dreymur Aftur" provides pause for reflection amid its brisk procession of string plucks and rhythmic synthesizer while marching wordlessly into album-closer "This Won't Last Forever." Here at the end, Bartels' guitar playing is laid bare in the mix, skeletally framing a single ribbon of his voice as it unfurls into the atmosphere. Though the track isn't expressly lyrical, its starkness still exemplifies the new leaf of vulnerability Bartels has turned over on Origins, an album that documents his hard-won evolution from musician, to producer, to composer_ and finally_ his confident arrival in the role of songwriter.

Nach der erfolgreichen "The Stadium Tour" von MÖTLEY
CRÜE mit DEF LEPPARD, bei der sie in diesem Jahr vor
über einer Million Fans in Nordamerika gespielt haben,
kündigt BMG die Veröffentlichung des limitierten Box-Sets
"Crücial Crüe: The Studio Albums 1981-1989" mit den
ersten fünf Platin-Alben von MÖTLEY CRÜE auf farbigem
Vinyl an: "Too Fast For Love" (weiß/schwarz Splatter),
"Shout At The Devil" (gelb/schwarz Splatter), "Theatre Of
Pain" (pink/schwarz Splatter), "Girls, Girls, Girls"
(cyanblau/schwarz Splatter) und "Dr. Feelgood" (Coke
Bottle Green/Oxblood Splatte). Die 5LP Box kommt in
einem edlen schwarzen Schuber

Exclusive and limited 7” with two new recordings by Don Letts and Greg Foat & James Thorpe, recorded for the new RELATIN project (the reimagining of Latin musical roots from another time for our generations).

Don Letts, together with the producer Gaudi, applies his vast knowledge of dub and spatial sound he is known for to a song recorded by the Venezuelans Un Dos Tres... Y Fuera in the 70s. At the time an avant-garde folk sound from South America gets dubbed out in the hands of an innovator of British rock. The track included here is a edit version from the one heard on streaming platforms. Greg Foat brings an unprecedented jazzy sensibility to a song from the Colombians Cumbia Moderna de Soledad (from the late 70s), a band set out to modernize the folk music of their people.

2023 Repress On Vertigo Days, the first album in seven years for The Notwist, one of Germany’s most iconic independent groups are alive to the possibilities of the moment. Their music has long been open-minded and exploratory, but from its engrossing structure, through its combination of melancholy pop, clangorous electronics, hypnotic Krautrock and driftwork ballads, to its international musical guests, Vertigo Days is both a new step for The Notwist, and a reminder of just how singular they’ve always been. Most importantly, the core trio of Markus and Micha Acher and Cico Beck are reaching out: as Markus reflects, “we wanted to question the concept of a band by adding other voices and ideas, other languages, and also question or blur the idea of national identity.”

It’s been seven years since The Notwist’s last album, Close To The Glass, and in that time the various members of the group have been busy with side projects (Spirit Fest, Hochzeitskapelle, Alien Ensemble, Joasihno), guest appearances, a record label (Alien Transistor), movie scoring, helping organise the Minna Miteru compilation of Japanese indie pop & running a festival (Alien Disko). Those divergent paths feed back into Vertigo Days in surprising ways, from its structure, built from group improvisations, with songs flowing and melting into one another in a collective haze, to its spirit, which feels refreshed and alive. There’s something cinematic about Vertigo Days too, reflective of the group’s time working on soundtracks, and reflected in the rich, moody photographic artwork by Lieko Shiga that adorns the cover.

The first sign of this newfound openness was the album’s lead single, “Ship”, where the group were joined by Saya of Japanese pop duo Tenniscoats, her disarmingly hymnal voice sighing over a propulsive, Krautrocking beat. Elsewhere, American multi-instrumentalist Ben LaMar Gay sings on “Oh Sweet Fire”, also contributing “a love lyric for these times, imagining two lovers in an uprising hand in hand.” American jazz clarinettist and composer Angel Bat Dawid adds clarinet to the spaced-out dream-pop of “Into The Ice Age”, while Argentinian electronica songwriter Juana Molina gifts some gorgeous singing and electronics to “Al Sur”. Saya also reappears as a member of Japanese brass band Zayaendo, who guest on the album. Throughout, The Notwist also capture the openness of their live performances, too, where they mix and link their songs in unexpected ways.

Indeed, what’s most impressive about Vertigo Days is the way it sits together as one long, flowing suite, the album conceptualised as a whole entity – it’s perfect for the long-distance, dedicated listening experience. This is also captured by the album’s lyrics, which Markus states, “feel more like one long poem.” The dimensions of that poem are multi-faceted, something intensified by the geopolitical weirdness of its times: “As the situation changed so dramatically, while we were working on the record, the theme of ‘the impossible can happen anytime,’ more about personal relationships in the beginning, became a global and political story.” But it also works at a level of poetic abstraction, such that each song gestures in multiple directions – the deeply private pans out to the global. The one certainty is that there is no certainty. “It’s maybe mostly about learning and how you never arrive anywhere,” Markus concurs. To sit within uncertainty is brave, but it’s also where we feel most alive, and Vertigo Days is an album that is brimming with life, with enthusiasm and love for music and for community, all wide-eyed and dreaming.