Search:some kind of peace

Bristol-based trip hop trio Jabu this week announced details of their second album. ‘Sweet Company’ will be released on November 20th via the group’s own do you have peace? imprint.

Sweet Company is the second album by Jabu. Where their first LP, Sleep Heavy, was an unflinching exploration of grief, dark and disembodied, Sweet Company’s deep, sedative soul feels like more of a lovers’ outing: optimistic, becalmed, looking outwards as well as inwards, and longing for the kind of human connections where ego and self-consciousness might dissolve. It is perhaps also an exhortation to love and accept yourself, to recover a lost innocence and peace – that paradise which has always been lost. Released via their own do you have peace? label, Sweet Company is on the one hand a very intimate and private-sounding work - the sound of life played out in a room, a bubble, a home, a head. The rhythms of everyday domesticity: listening to the plants, cars in the street, voices through the wall…. going to work, not going to work, sleeping heavy or not sleeping at all. Wavering on the brink of a revelation, of something just beyond the material world, while you wait for the kettle to boil. The core Jabu trio of producer Amos Childs and vocalists Jasmine Butt and Alex Rendall is present and correct. Sweet Company has theexhilarating sweep and confidence of a collaboration between people who trust and understand each other implicitly, and, secure in that knowledge, are able to give the absolute best of themselves to us. As before, Jasmine’s voice is a textural, painterly instrument, layered and blurred into abstraction, resisting the limits of language; the songs she sings on are portals into vast internal landscapes where the normal rules of gravity are suspended, every sound is smothered in a cathedral-like resonance, and you're both fearful and hopeful that you might never find your way back out again. Alex takes a more narrative, confessional and no less engaging pop tack: as on the gauzy, decelerated 2-step of ‘Lately’, with his masochistic, self-mocking entreaties to “be cruel to me … I like it when you make a fool of me”. Childs has a true hip-hop fiend's ear for a striking sample, and how to loop it to most hypnotic and rapturous effect, but here takes things to ever more powerfully uncanny and auteurish places, drawing inspiration from the voidal bliss-outs of shoegaze (AR Kane’s amniotic dream-pop epic 69 is one influence cited) and the space-time disturbances of dub, commanding both a raindrops-on-cobwebs delicacy and an immense, oceanic pressure. His productions seem to resist linear progression - instead they move by a kind of unstoppable diffusion, like weeds reclaiming an unkempt garden, or alien flora patterning the sea-floor and coral-caves of the subaquatic level of a computer game which may exist only in your, or his, imagination. Perhaps it's Daniela Dyson, the British-Afro-Colombian artist who contributes her vivid, energising poetic mysticism to two tracks, who best sums up Sweet Company's ambition and effect: “Me quiero perder en los momentos tan puros en su esencia que Las Horas mismas se detienen para ser testigo de nuestro amor” (I want to lose myself in the moments so pure in their essence / that The Hours themselves stop to bear witness to our love…). For a precious half an hour, we're invited to celebrate the smallness of our lives - and the limitless grandeur which that smallness contains. When it ends, we step back from the brink but things aren’t quite the same anymore: we’re haunted by what we briefly almost knew.

Subheim adds a new chapter to his catalog of shadowy raves with ΠΟΛΙΣ – the fourth long player. Pronounced "Polis," the Greek word for "city," ΠΟΛΙΣ doesn't so much evoke the rapid cadences of life in a modern metropolis as it does the unspoken tension between longing to escape and being trapped in some kind of concrete stasis – living together with millions of souls in an expansive emptiness.

Subheim uses ΠΟΛΙΣ as a vehicle to depart from traditional songwriting structures, crafting each track as a piece of a larger sonic collage. Songs come out of nowhere, abruptly come to end before they even get a chance to start or introduce new motifs and surprise reprises long after we expect the next track to cue up. These stutter-start forms reflect the four years it took for the record to take shape: a series of failed musical experiments, indecision, balancing an unstoppable creative drive with the unavoidable emotional ebb and flow of life.

Though this is clearly Subheim working at a new level, listeners will recognize the sound of ΠΟΛΙΣ instantly as his, with both hints of the IDM/electronica of Approach era and the unmistaken human element that is present in all his work. The natural, off-grid time feel of the record is effortlessly augmented with field recordings and found sounds, this time around with the addition of more grit and power, and with heavier use of analog synthesizers.

Despite the album being born out of a feeling of alienation from one’s surroundings, it's impossible to ignore the sense of hope that runs through this LP. In ΠΟΛΙΣ, we hear an arrival at a deeper understanding of oneself, an inner peace amidst the decay and a cautious optimism that comes from someone who just happens to feel most at home in darkness.

Traditionally the liner notes of an album take on a kind of third-party address, where a writer is delivering their thoughts about how an album makes them feel without breaching that space where they are representing themselves or the moment in time directly to the reader. The goal is typically a kind of timelessness, but as we live in unprecedented times, unconventional methods take on new life, and hopefully importance. In the spirit of that idea... man, is this the kind of album we all need right now. So many of us feel like we're constantly walking a tightrope, are feeling like we can't unwind, are in genuine need of a few moments of respite. Every so often an album emerges from an artist that most likely did not realize when they were composing how timely the results would be, and Lofi Dimensions is exactly that kind of record. It doesn't really matter why it's coming when it is, what's important is that it's here, offering peace to the perturbed and inspiration for the downcast. The American Dollar have long been one of those artists operating in a kind of middle ground, a band with a long history of creating moving instrumental rock that has somehow avoided ever becoming synonymous with modern American post-rock acts. They retain a sort of autonomy in a valued position just outside the boundaries of classification. Blending electronic textures with moving guitar and keyboard melodies, their music has always traveled somewhere in the spaces between trip-hop, electronic, post-rock and ambient, and this inability to be defined is ultimately what sets them apart from the trappings of genre, allowing them to be whatever they want The American Dollar to be in a given moment, always on their terms.

For the third chapter of Refined Productions Aleksandra Grünholz aka We Will Fail delivers her third full length album entitled Dancing on her recently launched label with Jakub Mikolajczyk, head of MonotypeRec label and MonotypePressings. Here she tells the story:

'Taking a break from rationality, my first thoughts about the theme of this album were about the night, when our sight is limited and thoughts are corrupted by fatigue. I don't dance anymore, I don't party, I don't let myself go. Some time ago that part of life slipped away from me. This album is like silently entering into a place you shouldn't be in. A lot of rave inspired sounds were used on the album, dreamy pads, arpeggios, simple melodic structures; but this album is not easy and simple.

As head of a graphic design studio in Warsaw, last year was very hard for me, the amount of work started to overwhelm me; I started to feel stupid and possessed by the work, this is how the tracks 'Very Urgent' and 'Economic Maladies' were born. While the track 'Reason' is about losing rationality and how easy it is to do.

'Put Your Hands Up in the Air' encompasses the rave. It's also a kind of question, can music itself tell a story Very often in EDM or trance music there is a story and I like to call it catharsis. A moment, when the beat slows down and melody/pads become solo. I tried to extract this moment, without adding drops and aggressive rhythms.

'So Who's the Man' is about regaining the power, slowly but consequently. This album is a about feeling bold, monstrous and strong. Like looking insolently into someones eyes. You have to be patient with this one, because it builds up slowly. If you listen only for a fragment you miss the whole idea.

'Beasts from the East' was inspired by the thought of being a small peace loving person in a chaotic world that is dominated by stupidity.

The track '2018' epitomises the rave, but more complicated. Each of the layers are a but simplistic and could construct a dance track, but as there are so many sounds simultaneously, it can become disturbing in the perfect way.

'Diving in Plastic' was fit for the last track, I didn't want the album to have a perfect conclusion, I wanted to leave the listener hanging and ready for more.'

Fourth Kind the self titled mini album on Omniverse Records. It's hard to pinpoint a genre with records like this; produced by Marc Mac of 4hero and similar to some of the 4hero output, it defies genre and fits somewhere in-between many. The production is heavily reliant on synthesisers and vintage drum machines in places but is full of real life and organic movements, this is partly down to the signature drums played by Luke Parkhouse. The only other guest spot is filled by Nu Jazz Funker Pascal Strauss aka Luman Child who plays bass guitar on "Take Me To Your Sky" which along with "Afterglows" are the closest we get to dance tracks, in most parts a 70s fusion feel is present. The short interlude type tracks tie the journey together and I would go as far as to say vital to telling the story. Moogs, Arps and Solina strings weave patterns throughout, all in all, across the 10 tracks the album is a journey of mood and emotions. 180g Pressing. Released 28th September 2018.

Intimate November tour also announced After their 2012 Mercury Prize nominated debut and 2015's Top 20 follow-up 'Born Under Saturn', musical adventurers Django Django are back for 2017, exploring new sounds with their brand new album 'Marble Skies' which will be released on January 26th on Because Music. Today the album launches with first single 'Tic Tac Toe', a rousing, trippy upbeat rock track with an enormous echoing hookline which will excite fans of the band's rockabilly-influenced elements. The accompanying video for 'Tic Tac Toe' was directed by John Maclean, brother of Django Django drummer/producer David Maclean and director of the critically acclaimed modernist western 'Slow West'. It depicts vocalist/guitarist Vincent Neff enjoying a rapid-fire day-trip to Hastings which takes a turn into the surreal and sinister when a ghost train puts him on a collision course with a grim reaper inspired by Ingmar Bergman's The Seventh Seal. As John Maclean explains: The film could be about the fading era of the beach arcades, time moving too fast, love and games, horror and happiness but it is actually about a man who needs to go buy a pint of milk to make a cup of tea.' After the brilliant, rave-shaped grooves and expansive arrangements of its predecessor, 'Marble Skies' is a more concise and focused offering which recalls the dynamic, genre-blurring music of their debut. It's a return to form, an album which finds them returning to the handmade, cut-and-paste approach of the past. Upon finishing the 'Born To Saturn' tour, Dave ventured to LA to work on a production project, whilst the other band members went to India with the British Council. When they returned, the new album process began with a back-to-basics approach which recalled the DIY ethos of the band's early days, Django Django - minus an absent Maclean - assembled at Urchin Studios in Tottenham, London with Metronomy drummer Anna Prior to experiment with the idea of coming up with new tracks through loose jamming sessions. After ten days of recording, there was plenty of raw material to send up to Dave (then back in his hometown of Dundee) for him to edit, refine and evolve. As ever, all four band members (completed by Tommy Grace on synths and bassist Jimmy Dixon) contributed to the band's music, melodies and lyrics as the final album took shape. Parts of 'Marble Skies' find Django Django sailing into uncharted territories, not least the driving title track (propelled by Prior's drumming), with its echoes of Krautrock and Suicide. Meanwhile, the hazy Zombies-like summer pop of 'Champagne', which explores the joys and ills of alcohol, was inspired by the band's over-indulgence during a boat trip on the Seine that was hosted by their label. Those drawn to the more dance-orientated side of Django Django will find much to love in the twisted '80s electro pop of 'In Your Beat' and the dancehall-influenced 'Surface To Air', a dreamy-headed pop song fronted by Rebecca Taylor of Slow Club. The collaboration came as a result of the two bands meeting up at SXSW some years ago, where Rebecca and Dave in particular bonded over shared interests in R&B, hip-hop and dancehall. Another more surprising collaborator is Jan Hammer, the Czech-born, American-based jazz-fusion and electronic artist who shares writing credits with the band on the gorgeously floaty 'Sundials'. If there's a mood running through 'Marble Skies', it's one of reflection on things past and present, and finding some kind of peace with your place in the grand scheme of things.

First Word kicks off 2018 with the welcome return of Quiet Dawn, and a new EP, 'Human Being: The Short Story of The Reed'. A suitably ice-thawing six-track opus to compliment the change of seasons, dedicated to the winter blooming plant's desire to be human.

Parisian Will Galland first appeared on the label in late 2014, releasing his debut album 'The First Day' the following year. Collaborations on that album and subsequent mixes since have included offerings from Oddisee, Miles Bonny, Eric Lau, Bastien Keb, Sauce81 (Eglo), Mayaka McCraven and Sarah Williams White.

Evolving his music from a palette accumulated over the years of Hip Hop, Broken Beat and House, he has expanded his talents for arranging and composing, and now drafted in a wealth of musicians for this sublime new EP, his most ambitious yet. Strings glide effervescently atop of Quiet Dawn's assorted analogue synths, and an array of percussive organics combine to build the tale of The Reed. In-places, the set transcends into the kind of grooves that saunter somewhere between the land of Bonobo and Quantic, and the cinematic library record craft of Alan Hawkshaw et al. Deep, organic and epic.

"The reed from the earth and waters,
Human by the flesh and bones,
Bring by the love and others,
Now, you're not alone."

Each track of the EP tells a different chapter of the story. In the words of Quiet Dawn, "This record is about human behaviour, relationships, happiness, sadness, peace, anger, sex, love, birth, death... But as viewed by The Reed. The Reed is a plant that wants to be human, after observing them all around her. Over the course of the record, The Reed evolves and desires to feel feelings, gradually learning that becoming human is not so simple... ."

Also with artwork by Sophie Bass and Grégoire Marty, this glorious six-track vinyl and digital EP is released February 2018 on First Word Records.

In 2017, the musical term electronic' is nearly obsolete given the ubiquity of computerized processes in producing music. Even so, the prevailing assumption is that musicians working under this broad umbrella must be inspired by concepts equally as electrified as their equipment. Kaitlyn Aurelia Smith has demonstrated in her still-blooming discography that this notion couldn't be further from the truth, and that more often than not, rich worlds of synthesized
sound are born from deep reverence of the natural world. Smith (who by no coincidence, cites naturalist David Attenborough as a contemporary muse) has embodied such an appreciation on
The Kid in as direct and sincere a way as possible by sonically charting the phases of life itself.
The album, which punctually follows up her 2016 breakthrough EARS, chronicles four defining cognitive and emotional stages of the human lifespan across four sides of a double LP.
The first side takes us through the confused astonishment of a newborn, unaware of itself, existing in an unwitting nirvana. Smith's music has always woven a youthful thread befitting of the
aforementioned subject. Here she articulates it in signature fashion on the track An Intention,' which serves not only as a soaring spire on The Kid, but on her entire output. There is playfulness here, but it's elevated by an undertone of gravity into something compelling and majestic that is fast becoming Smith's watermark. The emotional focus of side two is the vital but underreported moment in early youth when we cross the threshold into self awareness. The subject is profound enough to fill an entire album, but rarely makes its way into a single track, indicating Smith's ambition to broach subtler and deeper subjects than the average composer. This side offers up another highlight in the form of In The World But Not Of The World' which serves its subject well with epiphanic, climbing strings and decidedly noisy textures over a near-Bollywood low end pulse.

Side three emphasizes a feeling of being confirmed enough in one's own identity to begin giving back to the formative forces of one's upbringing, which is arguably the duty that all great artists
aim to fulfill. This side ends with the exploratory album cut Who I Am & Why I Am Where I Am' recorded in a single take without overdubs on the rare EMS Synthi 100 synthesizer. This humble
piece of sound design serves as a contrast to side four's verdant orchestral moments, all written and arranged for the EU-based Stargaze quartet by Smith herself. This final side represents a
return to pure being, the kind of wisdom and peace that eludes most of us until the autumn of life. On To Feel Your Best' this concept is voiced in the bittersweet refrain one day I'll wake up
and you won't be there' which Smith intended to be a grateful acknowledgement of life rather than a melancholy resentment of loss. The song has both effects depending on the mood of the
listener, and both interpretations are equally moving.
Kaitlyn Aurelia Smith belongs to an ilk of modern musicians who are defined by their commitment to creating experiential albums despite the singles-oriented habits of modern listeners,
and here she represents her kind proudly. The subjects on The Kid are not simple to convey, and yet through both emotional tone and lyrical content, Smith does just that. There is a similar
gravity to both birth and death, and rarely is that correlation as accurately and enthusiastically mapped as it is here.

Alan Watts, another logical inspiration of Smith's, once expounded that people record themselves to confirm their own existence, and as such, echoes and resonance are reminders that we are alive. You're not there unless you're recorded,' Watts muses, if you shout, and it doesn't come back and echo, it didn't happen.' The Kid speaks to this idea directly. As Kaitlyn Aurelia
Smith explores her existence through music, she guides us in gleefully contemplating our own.

Jam Money is the shared musical vision of Kevin Cormack and Mathew Fowler. Mathew (Bons) and Kevin (Half Cousin, Harry Deerness) first began collaborating as part of the Blank Tape Spillage Fete, an ongoing collective project of art and music which focuses on the creation and perpetuation of small DIY exhibitions, related events and limited releases that celebrates the hobbyist nature of home recording.

Jam Money revolves around a passion for the simple and sometimes restrictive nature of four-track cassette recording. Using old half-broken guitars, clarinets, charity shop keyboards, toys, family heirlooms, zithers, home-made percussion, and household objects a shared dialogue appears, involving both mark making and musical mishaps, allowing the makers to be carried along as the music finds its own way.

Genre definitions melt away in Jam Money's music as ambient dissolves into lo-fi rock, noise into fragile naive classroom melodies. Creativity beyond easy categorisation.The first recordings titled 'Blowing Stones' were self-released in 2014. The cover and insert artwork for this record featured abstract paintings by the artist Aimée Henderson whose work and process is a great influence on their music. Having played gigs alongside kindred spirits National Bedtime and Plinth, the tail end of 2015 saw the the band travel to Germany to play with the Notwist and Le Millipede for a series of 'Alien Disko' nights organised by Alien Transistor, a label with a shared kinship of both the weird and wonderful.

'A Gathering Kind' is the second album by Jam Money: a journey of sound and colour, subliminal images and narrative. The roots of this collection found Fowler and Cormack using an earthier, more instinctive language, making it a rougher-edged sibling to their other recordings, with parallels to the home-spun worlds of Flaming Tunes, Pumice, Maher Shalal Hash Baz and World Standard. Aimée's artwork features again, both paintings and music forming a collective language of dream-like adventure.

"Poignant and exploratory. Melting together acoustic and electronic elements, the narrative throughout is one of a ghostly world heading for winter. A firm fan favourite Stephen Pastel (The Pastels & Monorail Music) on Blowing Stones.

"Created in question and answer form, their songs exist like little sculptures - wayward and peaceful, sometimes whirring into automatic life under the pair's combined attention."

You can call them a »supergroup«, but Moderat understands that it's the »group« aspect that makes them interesting.

Gernot Bronsert, Sebastian Szary (aka Modeselektor) and Sascha Ring (aka Apparat) have been working together as a trio almost as long as their two separate projects have existed. We've seen their collaboration grow from »laptop boy-band,« (as Ring playfully puts it) in 2003—with computers synched using software Ring himself had written, because at the time, »there was just no live performance software around.«

Ring confesses that Moderat wasn't »really meant to be a recording act ,« with Bronsert agreeing that, »it was really just about fun.« This maybe explains the six-year break that followed Moderat's first EP before they finally returned in 2009 with their selftitled debut album. Intent on creating something that contrasted with their own projects, the group started the cycle which blossoms on their second album, aptly titled II, culminating now in the trilogy's completion, III. Whereas I was the combination of two separate entities, II brought the members closer together, and in III, the final chapter in the trilogy, Moderat sounds like one band.

Both Szary and Ring will tell you that Moderat moved progressively from making tracks towards a more traditional writing approach of making songs - a process more fully realized on III. That's partly why the vocals have become more prominent. Mostly, you hear Ring singing (there are no guests this time), as he so often does as Apparat, but listen closely to »Ghostmother« to hear Bronsert and Szary backing him up. Stepping out of their comfort zone is the kind of thing that helped create their interplay between pop and electronics; doing it right won them the Resident Advisor Best Live Act honor as early as 2009, and they continue to gain popularity while remaining independent and underground.

Szary describes the idea behind Moderat as, »imagin(ing) yourself sitting in the cinema and watching a movie with an incredible soundtrack.« This is true with Moderat in general, but III in particular pairs an emotional pull with sensual imagery, creating dynamic sound and depth with lyrics such as »the calming scent of lavender fills the air,« or »burning bridges light my way.« You'd have
to ask them whether they're intending to manipulate the listener in the same way that John Williams or Hans Zimmer might with traditional orchestras.

One of the best parts of Moderat is their use of electronics to achieve orchestral diversity. They update the songwriting tradition with an intriguing palette, borne of careful attention and skill, informed by their »experiences with sounds of nearly 25 years of suband club culture.«
Let's not forget that these three were brought together by Berlin's now legendary rave scene. With this as their common foundation as individuals, III signifies Moderat's maturation in modern pop — an achievement shared under their collective belt.

Bronsert explains that, »the new album isn't based on jams. We went into the studio and knew exactly what we needed to do.« This is reflected in the sophisticated themes explored in the music. Take »Ghostmother,« which ponders inner peace, acceptance, fear of the unknown and how facing that fear often reveals something not so scary. Or »Running,« which is about being part of a mass that constantly needs to move to function, but doesn't have the power to decide the direction of motion. Or how about the wisdom of »Reminder,« which recognizes the world for its flaws and our role we've each played in that, but choosing to act differently and light the way to something better.

Given that, it's a bit of an understatement when Bronsert says, »I'd say our music has definitely matured.« Successful in their own endeavors, now they've mastered the »group«. It doesn't mean the end of Moderat, but it does mean they'll have to find something else to excel in.