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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.”

Deliciously seasoned with a more than a little kick! Following up his 2020 debut, TYPE returns to SweetBox with two fiery jungle cuts built on his Akai MPC X.

Known as the MPC Jedi, TYPE is the tech wiz behind the Tubedigga YouTube channel, where he serves up music production and sound design tutorials from his hoard of MPCs and other vintage and modern tech. As a hardware devotee, he performs live on MPC rather than DJing, and it was during one of these live sets, for the launch of his previous SweetBox EP in 2020, that Dexta and the Diffrent crew first heard ‘Cherry Bomb’ and ‘Eclipse’ and immediately snapped them up.

‘Cherry Bomb’ is a quintessential junglist workout, pushing a combination of four sampled and homemade breaks to their limits over an otherworldly sound bed. With kicks that land like a mortar strike and the explosive militancy of a supercharged drill sergeant, this one’s ideal for peak-time switch-ups and ready to send any dancefloor into a frenzy.

‘Eclipse’ shuffles and steps with the South London producer’s signature precision, though the percussion takes something of a backseat this time. Front and centre instead are an array of monstrous technoid rasps, elasticated subs and an LFO-esque, earworm bleep repurposed from TYPE’s days as a video game sound designer. This is heavyweight business screaming out for a dark room and a big rig.

Kadi Yombo, published in 1989, is the most successful album in the quest for a fusion between tradition and modernity in Bwiti harp music of the Tsogho people of Gabon. Combining beating rattles with a layer of synthesizers, Papé Nziengui blends in a contrapuntal dialogue characteristic of harp playing: male song in appeal and female choir in response, male voice of the musical arc and rhythms of female worship. But above all it’s Tsogho ritual music and modern studio orchestration. The result is an initiatory itinerary of 10 musical pieces which are all milestones likely to be simultaneously listened to, danced, meditated on, and soon acclaimed. In the years since, Nziengui has traveled he world from Lagos to Paris, from Tokyo to Cordoba, from Brussels to Mexico City to become a true icon, the emblem of Gabonese music.

Like Bob Dylan, "electrifying" folk and Bob Marley mixing rock with reggae, some purists have criticized Nziengui for having distorted the music of harp by imposing a cross with modern instruments. They even went so far as to claim that Nziengui was just an average harpist covering his shortcomings with stunts that were only good for impressing neophytes; like playing a harp placed upside down behind his back or playing two or three harps simultaneously. Sincere convictions or venomous defamations, in any case, Nziengui never gave in to such attacks, imposing himself on the contrary to pay homage to the elders (Yves Mouenga, Jean Honoré Miabé, Vickoss Ekondo) while instructing the maximum of young people. He is thus the promoter of many young talents, the most prominent of which is certainly his nephew Jean Pierre Mingongué. In a conservative society where the sacred is confused with secrecy, exposing the mysteries of Bwiti in broad daylight can be punished by exclusion or even execution.

Papé Nziengui has always claimed that he faces such risks because he never felt enslaved to a community that governs his life, that regulates his conduct, that has a right of censorship over his activities. Like Ravi Shankar, the famous sitarist, Papé Nziengui is a man of rupture but also of openness, a transmitter of culture. As proof, he has established himself in Libreville, Gabo’s capital, as the main harpist for sessions and concerts, accompanying the greatest national artists (Akendengué, Rompavè, Annie-Flore Batchiellilys, Les Champs sur la Lowé, etc.) as well as foreign artists (Papa Wemba, Manu Dibango, Kassav', Toups Bebey, etc.). In 1988, he was the first harpist to release an album in the form of a cassette produced by the French Cultural Center (Papé Nziengui, Chants et Musiques Tsogho). At the same time, he created his own group (Bovenga), combining traditional music instruments (musical bow, drums, various percussion instruments, etc.) in the framework of a true national orchestra, which gave the first concert and the first tours of a traditional music that was both modern and dynamic, thus "democratizing" the harp, to the dismay of certain purists.

On the other hand, in modern music, dominated by the logic of profit or even commercialism, artistic creation must often be adjusted for a specific audience based on reason rather than heart. But instead of allowing himself to be distorted, Papé Nziengui has always tried to produce music that is not a caricature, worthy in its expression as in its content, of the sacredness and transcendence of the music of the Origins. This is what makes Nziengui not only the musician, but the man someone whose age hasn’t altered any of his freshness or authenticity

Kadi Yombo, published in 1989, is the most successful album in the quest for a fusion between tradition and modernity in Bwiti harp music of the Tsogho people of Gabon. Combining beating rattles with a layer of synthesizers, Papé Nziengui blends in a contrapuntal dialogue characteristic of harp playing: male song in appeal and female choir in response, male voice of the musical arc and rhythms of female worship. But above all it’s Tsogho ritual music and modern studio orchestration. The result is an initiatory itinerary of 10 musical pieces which are all milestones likely to be simultaneously listened to, danced, meditated on, and soon acclaimed. In the years since, Nziengui has traveled he world from Lagos to Paris, from Tokyo to Cordoba, from Brussels to Mexico City to become a true icon, the emblem of Gabonese music.

Like Bob Dylan, "electrifying" folk and Bob Marley mixing rock with reggae, some purists have criticized Nziengui for having distorted the music of harp by imposing a cross with modern instruments. They even went so far as to claim that Nziengui was just an average harpist covering his shortcomings with stunts that were only good for impressing neophytes; like playing a harp placed upside down behind his back or playing two or three harps simultaneously. Sincere convictions or venomous defamations, in any case, Nziengui never gave in to such attacks, imposing himself on the contrary to pay homage to the elders (Yves Mouenga, Jean Honoré Miabé, Vickoss Ekondo) while instructing the maximum of young people. He is thus the promoter of many young talents, the most prominent of which is certainly his nephew Jean Pierre Mingongué. In a conservative society where the sacred is confused with secrecy, exposing the mysteries of Bwiti in broad daylight can be punished by exclusion or even execution.

Papé Nziengui has always claimed that he faces such risks because he never felt enslaved to a community that governs his life, that regulates his conduct, that has a right of censorship over his activities. Like Ravi Shankar, the famous sitarist, Papé Nziengui is a man of rupture but also of openness, a transmitter of culture. As proof, he has established himself in Libreville, Gabo’s capital, as the main harpist for sessions and concerts, accompanying the greatest national artists (Akendengué, Rompavè, Annie-Flore Batchiellilys, Les Champs sur la Lowé, etc.) as well as foreign artists (Papa Wemba, Manu Dibango, Kassav', Toups Bebey, etc.). In 1988, he was the first harpist to release an album in the form of a cassette produced by the French Cultural Center (Papé Nziengui, Chants et Musiques Tsogho). At the same time, he created his own group (Bovenga), combining traditional music instruments (musical bow, drums, various percussion instruments, etc.) in the framework of a true national orchestra, which gave the first concert and the first tours of a traditional music that was both modern and dynamic, thus "democratizing" the harp, to the dismay of certain purists.

On the other hand, in modern music, dominated by the logic of profit or even commercialism, artistic creation must often be adjusted for a specific audience based on reason rather than heart. But instead of allowing himself to be distorted, Papé Nziengui has always tried to produce music that is not a caricature, worthy in its expression as in its content, of the sacredness and transcendence of the music of the Origins. This is what makes Nziengui not only the musician, but the man someone whose age hasn’t altered any of his freshness or authenticity

Prima Materia was a vocal improvisation ensemble, founded by Roberto Laneri in 1973. Composed entirely of vocalists with no academic training, the group developed various techniques – revolving mostly around the use of overtones – that would embody their unique sound. No instruments nor electronic manipulations were ever employed within the group's physiognomy, which was realized purely through the human voice.

La Coda Della Tigre, the group's sole album, was recorded in 1977 by Alvin Curran and released on Ananda, an artist-run label founded by Laneri, Curran and Giacinto Scelsi.

As the original liner notes state, "The music of Prima Materia may sound radically new, yet at the same time it is likely to ring some distant bell and evoke ancient emotions. This is not due to chance: indeed, the very name of the group points to a specific path, namely, the unfolding of the potential implicit in the alchemical symbol as embodying a process of transmutation of consciousness."

Prima Materia's four members (Laneri, Claudio Ricciardi, Gianni Nebbiosi and Susanne Hendricks) combine voices to create a singular, beautiful drone that is (as the group's name suggests) both impossible to define and fundamentally simple.

This first-time standalone reissue is recommended for fans of La Monte Young, Terry Riley and Disques Ocora.

In literature an unreliable narrator is a narrator that can't be fully trusted, a
character whose credibility for some reason or another has been
compromised
When I chose to use the expression as the title for my new album, I did so
because I felt it resonated with me on a number of different levels.First of all, it
serves as an accurate way of describing my own lyrical universe, which has
always been a mash- up of real- life events and fiction. No one can tell for sure
what is real and what is made up. At times, even I find there can be a fluid
transition between the two poetic worlds. When I look back on my work, it is often
hard to tell where reality and fiction overlap.
Another factor that undoubtably and unavoidably bled into my writing this time,
was that I finished most of the new lyrics in the weeks and days leading up to the
2020 US Presidential election.
More than any time before, we witnessed a toxic political campaign that
consciously sought to mislead people. And any attempt at raising critical
questions and points of view were brutally brushed off and dismissed as fake
news. Several political narratives played out at the same time, all claiming they
exclusively owned THE TRUTH. A game of smoke and mirrors that for a lot of
people made it hard to decide who to believe. Who was the truthful and who was
the unreliable narrator of the political game?

Kadi Yombo, published in 1989, is the most successful album in the quest for a fusion between tradition and modernity in Bwiti harp music of the Tsogho people of Gabon. Combining beating rattles with a layer of synthesizers, Papé Nziengui blends in a contrapuntal dialogue characteristic of harp playing: male song in appeal and female choir in response, male voice of the musical arc and rhythms of female worship. But above all it’s Tsogho ritual music and modern studio orchestration. The result is an initiatory itinerary of 10 musical pieces which are all milestones likely to be simultaneously listened to, danced, meditated on, and soon acclaimed. In the years since, Nziengui has traveled he world from Lagos to Paris, from Tokyo to Cordoba, from Brussels to Mexico City to become a true icon, the emblem of Gabonese music.

Like Bob Dylan, "electrifying" folk and Bob Marley mixing rock with reggae, some purists have criticized Nziengui for having distorted the music of harp by imposing a cross with modern instruments. They even went so far as to claim that Nziengui was just an average harpist covering his shortcomings with stunts that were only good for impressing neophytes; like playing a harp placed upside down behind his back or playing two or three harps simultaneously. Sincere convictions or venomous defamations, in any case, Nziengui never gave in to such attacks, imposing himself on the contrary to pay homage to the elders (Yves Mouenga, Jean Honoré Miabé, Vickoss Ekondo) while instructing the maximum of young people. He is thus the promoter of many young talents, the most prominent of which is certainly his nephew Jean Pierre Mingongué. In a conservative society where the sacred is confused with secrecy, exposing the mysteries of Bwiti in broad daylight can be punished by exclusion or even execution.

Papé Nziengui has always claimed that he faces such risks because he never felt enslaved to a community that governs his life, that regulates his conduct, that has a right of censorship over his activities. Like Ravi Shankar, the famous sitarist, Papé Nziengui is a man of rupture but also of openness, a transmitter of culture. As proof, he has established himself in Libreville, Gabo’s capital, as the main harpist for sessions and concerts, accompanying the greatest national artists (Akendengué, Rompavè, Annie-Flore Batchiellilys, Les Champs sur la Lowé, etc.) as well as foreign artists (Papa Wemba, Manu Dibango, Kassav', Toups Bebey, etc.). In 1988, he was the first harpist to release an album in the form of a cassette produced by the French Cultural Center (Papé Nziengui, Chants et Musiques Tsogho). At the same time, he created his own group (Bovenga), combining traditional music instruments (musical bow, drums, various percussion instruments, etc.) in the framework of a true national orchestra, which gave the first concert and the first tours of a traditional music that was both modern and dynamic, thus "democratizing" the harp, to the dismay of certain purists.

On the other hand, in modern music, dominated by the logic of profit or even commercialism, artistic creation must often be adjusted for a specific audience based on reason rather than heart. But instead of allowing himself to be distorted, Papé Nziengui has always tried to produce music that is not a caricature, worthy in its expression as in its content, of the sacredness and transcendence of the music of the Origins. This is what makes Nziengui not only the musician, but the man someone whose age hasn’t altered any of his freshness or authenticity

New album by pioneering German beatmaker FloFilz. On Close Distance, the lofiturned-hifi producer blends hip-hop inspired beats with contemporary jazz, alt r&b and a little rap. Featuring Alfa Mist, Blue Lab Beats, Jerome Thomas,

KeepVibesNear, Summers Sons & C.Tappin, Dal & Hunter Rose. Close Distance is his fourth album for Melting Pot Music. Since 2013, the self-taught bedroom producer and classically trained violinist has sold more than 10k LPs and gained 200 million streams.

Close Distance literally means “near in space or time” (or “nah dran”, as we say in German). The 16 songs on Close Distance came to life over the past two years. Many sketches were birthed at FloFilz's old home studio in Aachen. Some songs were made from scratch in London, where Flo did sessions with UK jazz supremos Alfa Mist and Blue Lab Beats at their studios. One was recorded in a kitchen in Streatham, where rap duo Summers Sons and pianist C.Tappin reside.
More sessions were already in planning when lockdown kicked in and travelling was no longer an option. Around the same time, Flo was about to move from Aachen to Berlin which he eventually did in November 2020. Once installed, he started sharing beats and files out of his makeshift studio in Moabit. Beat folders were sent to
London where two of our favourite new alt R&B vocalists – Jerome Thomas and KeepVibesNear – live. Another one went to Dartmoor where the jazz/hip-hop trio Dal added their magic touch while Hunter Rose processed her sultry vocals in Cape Town - 12 flying hours away from Berlin.

The album artwork has been created by Indonesian illustrator Fatchurofi, who caught FloFilz's attention through his work for everybody’s favourite band Khruangbin. Taking influences from Japanese Ukiyo-e art, Fatchurofi is adding a zen-like clarity (and tranquility) that resonates very well with the album.

It is no exaggeration to say that FloFilz has not only created another inspiring album with Close Distance but one that demonstrates how music can close the distance which we all have experienced (and still do) in a beautiful way.

Music Heads by Radio Trip is and remains one of the most far out releases we have ever had on Jalapeno Records.

In the Noughties, the label was approached with some incredible music by the super talented Mixmonster and Schoolmaster, founding members of the Israeli jazz funk band 'The Apples'. Produced under their 'Radio Trip' moniker, the album was a glorious cut & paste journey into sound, with overtones of musique concrete, brought to life by their fascination with vinyl culture, turntablism and sampling.

Their source material knows no bounds and draws from a diverse palette. Traditional middle eastern meets blues, jazz meets rock, hip hop meets psychedelic, and more all come together into one blossoming, cheerful trip, where the cultures of the world collide.

At the time, music piracy was in its heyday and the vinyl market was supposedly in a death spiral, so it was only released on CD and digital.

Now released for the first time on a very limited vinyl LP run, this gem of an album may be one of those moments you discover a touch of genius in a world where formulaic music is churned out with no soul in it's bones.

Planet Mu presents ‘ADDLE’ – Bogdan Raczynski’s first album of new music in 15 years. Marking a change from the high-octane jungle tekno braindance for which he is most commonly known, here we find the Polish American musician in a more melodic and zen-like place of peace, which is ergonomic and decluttered, whilst also bittersweet and tinged with melancholy. ‘ADDLE’ is closest in spirit to 2001’s tender ‘myloveilove’, or the light-hearted ditties of this year’s ‘BANANS’ EP, but is also a markedly new milestone. A robust and bottom-heavy rhythm section juxtaposes with sad electronic tear jerkers, at points laced with the soft cooing wail of his vocals, which are loaded with a haunting, heavy and almost wounded emotion. Bogdan comments “Calm is great. You need to take a breather in the eye of the storm now and then. But the real growth happens in turbulence, when your feelings oscillate in and out of sync. It’s not dry land you’re after. You’re trying to build a new island while on a piddly raft. Beleaguered and weary you lay the foundation with your bare hands while the rain lashes your back; a new place for you and yours to moor yourself to until the next storm hits. ‘ADDLE’ is about that storm, its adjacent periphery, and what you look like, in and out, when you set foot. As space and time push against you, that process of adapting becomes an anchor. Among that state of being addled, out of flow, seemingly untethered, there is beauty.”

Although less unhinged and riotous than some of his previous work, ‘ADDLE’ is no less impactful. Lean, punchy and purposeful, this seemingly simple combination of beats and melody belies a razor sharp skill, which bursts with verve and virtuosity. Across its eight unique and moving tracks the listener experiences tenderness, feelings somewhere between unease and comfort, and a sense of reflection, with Bogdan seemingly gazing at twinkling stars, but with his view distorted by welling-up. Sonically, spaces range from razor-sharp choppage, juddering heavyweight head-nodders, bit-crushed siren squall and something akin to Philip Glass’ ‘Candyman’ score played through a high-tech-fairy-tale music box. There’s also a warming, life-affirming moment as close to deep house as Bogdan will ever comfortably get, neck-snapping metallic percussion, Casiotone on steroids and reverberant warehouse throb. Booming drum machines are a prominent factor too – reminiscent of early hip hop instrumentals – but spirited off somewhere, lost in purgatory. Bogdan Raczynski (born 1977) is a Polish-American electronic musician. Raczynski’s work draws inspiration from the chaotic breakbeats of jungle and hardcore rave as well as traditional Polish music and other sources. He has collaborated with Bjork, remixed Autechre, CLPNG and Jonsi from Sigur Ross, and toured with Aphex Twin, who commented how “his records are so underrated.” Bogdan was also a roster mainstay of Richard James’s seminal Rephlex label, with additional releases on Warp, Ghostly, Disciples and Unknown to the Unknown. A keen proponent of tech, he created a sample pack using pollution and recently collaborated with Polyend on a custom made banana-themed tracker.

Always open to experimentation, Welsh imprint Haŵs welcomes Wyatt to the family. Comprising five evocative, glossy cuts, the ‘Netherwood’ EP is a time capsule back to his hometown, turning memories into alchemical moments experienced under a blazing sun or by the light of a full moon.

The opening ‘Sewell’ sails through a sensory voyage of stripped-back breakbeat, travel intercom samples and earworm melodies. ‘Netherwood’ snakes into a trippy pace, carving an indefinable sculpture of synth melodies nestled between weightless ambient.

On the B-side, ‘Mousehold’ launches into a peak-time club number, its initial drive of drums and bass tempered down by emotive accents that feel like a coy dance between yin and yang. ‘Tombland’ slinks into a shadow-cast realm of melancholy and introspection, joining the hands of broken beat and synth lines into a melodic collaboration drunk on its private thoughts. To close, ‘Heathgate’ retreats into a hopeful murmur, reflecting its quiet, percussive optimism back at itself through tear-stained melodies and a glassy bass.

Sometimes, existential introspection happens through external movement. ‘Netherwood’ is a catalyst for those epiphanies.

This spring, Atomnation is to serve up three remixes from Sam Goku's cultured East Dimensional Riddims album. The original full length landed in spring last year, and now contemporary innovators Lauer, Paula Tape and Ineffekt all offer their own unique versions.

Goku sees this remix EP as a way of showcasing the sort of tunes he plays in his mixes, most recently for the RA podcast series as well as for Ransom Note and Live At Robert Johnson. The Chinese-born but long Munich-based artist is an assured DJ who unites his different heritages when he plays. He's someone who taps into the similar emotions and motivations of east and west and does so with a nuanced, storytelling brand of house and techno that is warm and uplifting.

Meaning all things magick and supernatural, the root of the word occult is that which is hidden, concealed, beyond the limits of our minds. If this is occult, then the Occult Architecture of Moon Duo’s fourth album - a psychedelic opus in two separate volumes released in 2017 - is an intricately woven hymn to the invisible structures found in the cycle of seasons and the journey of day into night, dark into light.

Offering a cosmic glimpse into the hidden patterning embedded in everything, Occult Architecture reflects the harmonious duality of these light and dark ener¬gies through the Chinese theory of Yin and Yang.

In Chinese, Yin means “the shady side of the hill” and is associated with the feminine, darkness, night, earth. Following this logic, Vol. 1 embraces and embod¬ies Moon Duo’s darker qualities — released appropriately on February 3, in the heart of winter in the Northern Hemisphere.

According to guitarist Ripley Johnson, “the concept of the dark/light, two-part album came as we were recording and mixing the songs, beginning in the dead of winter and continuing into the rebirth and blossoming of the spring. There’s something really powerful about the changing of the seasons in the Northwest, the physical and psychic impact it has on you, especially after we spent so many years in the seasonal void of California. I became interested in gnostic and her¬metic literature around that time, especially the relationship between music and occult qualities and that fed into the whole vibe.”

Adds keyboardist Sanae Yamada, “the two parts are also intended to represent inverted components of a singular entity, like two faces on the same head which stare always in opposite directions but are inextricably driven by the same brain.”

180g Coloured Vinyl Series Contains New Specially Prepared Liner Notes By Penguin Guide To Jazz Writer Brian Morton And By Paris’
Prestigious Jazz Magazine. Quincy Jones Big Band Bossa Nova + 2 Bonus Tracks (Yellow Vinyl) “Almost every track here is a small classic that you’re bound to have heard somewhere, without realising what it was. “Manha de Carnaval”, Luiz Bonf‘s peerless melody, is another that surfaces constantly in movies and behind commercials. Likewise, Jobim’s “One Note Samba”, which varies the metre and changes the pace most effectively. Jones recognised that he had something that could change the metre and flavour of almost any piece. “On the Street Where You Live” loses its slightly plonking sentimentality and turns into a celebration of community. “A Taste of Honey” acquires a new and exotic quality.” Penguin Guide to Jazz “There are few albums more enchanting than this one, which finds the perfect balance, among other things, to make everything swing, and to make us dance better. And you’ll be amazed to hear the voices of Roland Kirk, Paul Gonsalves, Jim Hall and Clark Terry. Yes, all of them are here.” Jazz Magazine Personnel: featuring Clark Terry (trumpet) Phil Woods (alto sax), Paul Gonsalves (tenor sax), Rahsaan Roland Kirk (Stritch, alto sax), Lalo Schifrin (piano), Jim Hall (guitar), Chris White (bass), Rudy Collins (drums), Jos Paula, Carlos “Bala” G
mez, Jack Del R o (percussion), Quincy Jones (conductor). Recorded in New York, August 13 & September 4-12, 1962. *BONUS TRACKS: Quincy Jones and His Orchestra. Similar personnel as Big Band Bossa Nova, also including Rahsaan Roland Kirk (flute, tenor sax, Stritch). New York, June 15, 1962. Original session produced by Quincy Jones. Originally issued in 1962 on the Mercury single 72012


b a2 | Boogie Bossa Nova Aka Boogie Stop Shuffle

Some things take time to happen, some things perhaps take a bit longer than they should but, finally, we are delighted to present an issue of the iconic, and sought-after, Brazilian album 'Alucinolândia' by Zito Righi e Seu Conjunto from 1969.

The trippy, surrealist 60s cover design with hands holding eyeballs is somewhat confusing. Rather than the stoner acid rock record that the art may suggest, 'Alucinolândia' is actually a quintessential 60s gem, mixing samba, MPB, bossa nova, quirky organ-led mod-jazz groovers and easy-listening crooners with a relaxed cool swagger.

Zito Righi aka Isidoro Righi, the Brazilian saxophonist, instrumentalist, conductor and composer brought together an illustrious cast for this masterpiece, including the much-loved vocalist Sônia Santos. Sônia delivers a masterclass on the album's opener, and maybe its crown-jewel 'Poema Ritmico Do Malandro’. The song is fierce and driving with an enticing funk intro that bursts into a Samba / Batucada workout. A real monster that works magic on the dancefloor. Sônia would later re-visit this track in 1971 on a recording for Copacabana Records, which Mr Bongo released as part of the Brazil45 series. The Brazilian songwriter Roberval penned three tracks on the record, including another highlight and the far too short 'Birimbau'; a catchy Brazilian jazzy-samba dancer at its finest. Other musicians include the drummer Fernando who also recorded with the greats Dila & Guilherme Coutinho.

The fact the record was released in 1969 meant it was probably a bit out of step with its contemporaries in comparison to the works of artists such as Os Mutantes, Gilberto Gil et al. The core of 'Alucinolândia' is that of a more optimistic early to mid-sixties party feelgood vibe rather than the angsty, psychedelia, and rebellion of the Tropicália movement. Over 50 years since its release, the work can finally be judged on its own merit; and what a beauty it is.

Platform 23 presents Ani-Roy, a project from friends Aniruddha Das and Gary "Roy" Stewart, who recorded two 12's of improvisational acid-house meets drone and samples in 1990.

They met over a love of principally reggae and post punk at Trent Polytechnic, Nottingham in 1982, and started combining equipment, to make tape loops and delays for exploring the basics of dub, all the while building their own Sound System.

This learning and experimenting converged their interests in early possibilities afforded for programming sounds and effects. They moved to London / Birmingham respectively and continued their collaboration until all things aligned in 1990. Coming together with Andrew Campbell, a community / social entrepreneur based in Nottingham - and with access to the Marcus Garvey Centre studios - they recorded two improvisational jams to 2 16 track; Ani arranging drum and bass lines, programming 'counter melodies' with a TB-303, and Roy looking after the ominous ambient loops, melodies, riot and Prince Far I samples.

The fact there were so many "versions" compelled Andrew to put the results out on two 12's instead of one. Fari 116 and Tilt were self-released on hand-stamped white labels.

Archival testaments, but set apart from the burgeoning acid house scene - here they are re-mastered and reissued some 30 years later by Platform 23.

This album is a tribute to Pastor Wylie Champion, who died while we were in the process of releasing this, his first record, and his wife, Mother Champion, who died a few months earlier. We met Pastor Champion a few years ago while we were putting together another release, The Time for Peace Is Now: Gospel Music About Us. We found him in a collection of YouTube videos from the 37th Street Baptist Church in Oakland, California, put together by the pastor there, Bishop Dr. W.C. McClinton. There was quite a lot of talent in those videos, and among them was Pastor Champion whom we liked so much that we decided to make a record with him. Pastor Champion wasn’t like any other pastor you’ve ever met. As an itinerant preacher, a carpenter, and a father of five, he made a name for himself traveling up and down the California coast with his electric guitar. He traveled alone and he played alone, well into his seventies. The easiest way to describe him would be as an outsider gospel artist. Other than these bare facts, we never learned much about him—except that he was also the brother of the well-known soul singer Bettye Swann. In fact, most of what we knew about him we got from his sister’s Wikipedia page. We decided that because we met Champion through the 37th Street Baptist Church, we would record him there too. We recorded him live on a two-track Nagra reel to reel, as we wanted the album to be analog in the style of traditional gospel recordings. Over the course of two evenings (when the workday was done), Champion taught his band—musicians who had never played together before—a handful of songs, a small selection of the nearly 2,000 fragments of songs and sermons that he regularly performed. We listened in as they all got more familiar with the material and each other over time. At some point, we mentioned to Champion that he would have to be interviewed by someone to write notes for the album. He wasn’t too pleased with this idea, saying he’d had a hard life and he didn’t want to talk about it. Over the next few months, we kept asking Champion to talk to someone about his life. He told us that he didn’t want to talk about growing up in Louisiana, his mother being accosted by the Klan, or that his father was a gambler. He didn’t want to talk about being jailed for 90 days for using a whites only bathroom, being in gangs or having a street name. We told him that was fine—he could talk about what he wanted to talk about. And he told us that he didn’t want to talk about anything. You know, there are times when you make a record where it’s already made in your mind before you start. But then in the end, the record you thought you were making is not the record you made. We spent years puzzling over this one, trying to figure out what it was saying, who it was for, and how to get people to pay attention to it. But Champion knew that this record wasn’t going to be for everyone. He didn’t really care. The important part for him was just getting the message out there in the same way that he always had, travelling alone with his electric guitar. “I want to say what I mean,” he said, “be practical, precise, to the point, and, at the same time, diplomatic.” In other words, he just wanted to be a good man. God bless Pastor Champion and Mother Champion, peace be with them and their family. Love to all.

With Plum, the songwriting partnership rooted in the creative rapport between bandleader Molly Hamilton and guitarist Robert Earl Thomas continues to expand on shared visions, delving deeper into what was always there: dusty guitars, ear-worm melodies, warm expansive arrangements. Each entry to their catalog has marked a subtle reimagining of Widowspeak's sound, though perennial points of reference remain the same: 90's dream pop, 60's psych rock, a certain unshakeable Pacific-Northwestness. Speaking to the timeless feeling of each, the albums continue to be discovered well beyond their respective PR cycles, made beloved by new listeners through word of mouth. The band's fifth album feels comfortable and lived-in: humble in structure, heavy on mood. Perhaps that came taking time off from the touring grind, instead working full-time jobs and settling into the rhythm of daily life in a small upstate New York town. Plum was recorded over a handful of weekends last winter by Sam Evian (Cass McCombs, Kazu Makino, Hannah Cohen) at his Flying Cloud studio in the Catskills, and was mixed by Ali Chant (PJ Harvey, Aldous Harding, Perfume Genius). In addition to Hamilton (vocals, guitar) and Thomas (guitars, bass, synth), it features instrumental contributions by Andy Weaver (drums), Michael Hess (piano), and Sam himself (bass, synth). Plum nestles into the band's canon like it was always there, but with new textures coming to the fore, like the polyrhythmic pulse of "Amy" and "The Good Ones", or the watery, Terry Riley-influenced track "Jeanie" Plum navigates the spaces between the lesser emotions of modern life. Hamilton's lyrics speak to the unique turmoil of anyone who creates as their work, who must somehow survive off such "fruits of their labor." Yet, Widowspeak have always made a bitter pill much easier to swallow. The majestic "Breadwinner", the luminous "Even True Love" - these songs here were made to be listened to, enjoyed. "Money" is particularly hypnotic, built around a repeating, cyclical motif that serves as both skeleton and body. "Will you get back what you put in?" Hamilton asks over an insistent guitar riff. The line is delivered with a knowingness that transcends its surface critiques of late-stage capitalism, asking both herself and the listener whether this is, in fact, the world we want to live in. Through Plum, Widowspeak have brought something into the world that seems to know its own worth, even as it wonders aloud about what is to come. What value and meaning do we assign ourselves, our time, and how do we spend it?

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.

Chris Imler likes to play drums standing up. He‘s the dandy with the killer offbeat, or, as one major German newspaper once put it, the "Grand Seigneur of the Berlin Underground". He has been making his mark on countless Berlin musical affairs since long before the fall of the Wall, with The Golden Showers, Peaches, Oum Shatt, Driver &Driver, Die Türen, Jens Friebe, to name but a few. He has also been perfoming across Europe as a solo artist for the past decade.

In "Operation Schönheit" (German for "Operation Beauty"), he has recorded his most, well, beautiful album to date. But Benedikt Frey's warm production subverts its own beauty with a multitude of clanking and ingling synth sounds, making the work very much about the cosmetic surgery it performs on itself. It's all in the tradition of the more experimental and electronic side of post-punk in which Imler and his unique groove are rooted. It doesn't take insider knowledge of Berlin's post-punk underground to realise that that Imler groove consists of rhythm that sings, vocals that dance and a look that fits, as illustrated by "Disappoint Me", his latest video: https://youtu.be/YeVJ75ljjB8

Elsewhere - such as in "Movies" - the rhythm sings, less electronically reduced, into the acoustics of an old, high-ceilinged Berlin apartment; metal clatters, a zither trembles and Imler plays with the metronome. Sometimes he moves ahead of time, sometimes trails behind it. He always manages to be in his very own groove, which carries everything along. And this is precisely the essence of the Imler rhythm, which lends itself to being applied to the very rhythm of life: Stretch and compress your time and loop it according to your own groove! Optimise nothing but feel everything! And dance to it! Even when contemplating everyday information overload, as Imler's high-speed mumbling suggests in the hectic yet smooth opening track "Temperature".

But being the ultimate night owl he is, Imler manages to make even the odd bout of paranoia seem like a good thing: like some kind of krauty, groovy B-horror-soundtrack-inflected high-pressure environment, "Whip Me" is a cross between Conrad Schnitzler and Bauhaus. In the title track, whose lyrics were written together with Jens Friebe, he intones: "You want to be something greater / You break your leg / When it heals again / You break it again" and sounds like the most gleeful fatalist you can imagine. Because in his city, one can still lose oneself better than anywhere else - a night easily becomes a whole universe that can be traversed, marvelled at and played with, and one might find one's old self again only when hearing "church bells" and "small birds singing". At least that's how Imler illustrates it in "Emptiness full of stars", and it seems likely that those "stars" are the human companions of the Berlin night in question.

And so once again Imler becomes Berlin's most important cultural ambassador: that scene of the eternally, and somehow successfully, failing creatures of the night, once the envy of the international postmodern bohème, has, despite many claims to the contrary, not been completely "optimised away", and its attitude to life is perfectly summed up in Imler's groove. And, of course, his look. "Schau Hin" (German for "Look!"), he sings in the track of the same name, masterfully dubbed out with the help of Melbourne's Leo James.

Quite right! Look - and listen.

Yours, Johannes von Weizsäcker (The Chap)