Suche:some other people

Rhiannon Giddens reunites with her former Carolina Chocolate Drops bandmate Justin Robinson on What Did the Blackbird Say to the Crow, an album of North Carolina fiddle and banjo music. Produced by Giddens and Joseph "joebass" DeJarnette, the album features Giddens on banjo and Robinson on fiddle, with the duo playing eighteen of their favourite North Carolina tunes: a mix of instrumentals and tunes with words.

Many were learned from their late mentor, the legendary North Carolina Piedmont musician Joe Thompson; one is from another musical hero, the late Etta Baker, from whom they also learned by listening to recordings of her playing. Giddens and Robinson recorded the album outdoors and on location at Thompson’s and Baker’s North Carolina homes, as well as the former plantation Mill Prong House. They were accompanied by the sounds of nature, including two different broods of cicadas, which had not emerged simultaneously since 1803, creating a true once-in-a-lifetime soundscape. The duo, along with four other string musicians including the multi-instrumentalist Dirk Powell, will embark on the Rhiannon Giddens & The Old-Time Revue North America tour in April.

“With the assaults on reality going on in the world today, we wanted to offer another kind of record, like walking back onto a gravel or dirt road while a stampede goes the other way,” Giddens says. “With the cicada choir, this record could’ve only happened at a certain time in the last 120 years. We doubled down on place, time, realness, and old-fashioned front porch music. It’s a reminder that another way exists, with music made for your community’s enjoyment and for dancing–not solely for commercial purposes.

“What is the role of music in our society?” she wonders. “How do we de-couple it from unfettered capitalism, where music is a product and musicians are incidental? How do we use the tools and system that we have been bequeathed in a way that reminds us of other ways of being?” Robinson adds, "Recording this album felt like being back in the saddle. Just this time Joe is not here, and his fiddle is under my chin. The album is about home, the cicadas, the storms, the music, and the people who make it feel like home."

Thompson was one of the last musicians of his era and his community to carry on the southern Black string band tradition. He played a crucial role in the lives of Giddens and Robinson, who, along with their Carolina Chocolate Drops bandmate Dom Flemons, spent their formative years learning from Thompson in traditional apprentice/mentor relationships. His influence has guided all of their artistic journeys as well as their mission to keep the legacy of the Black string band tradition alive.

In further tribute to Giddens’ North Carolina roots, What Did the Blackbird Say to the Crow will arrive just a week before Biscuits & Banjos, the inaugural edition of her first festival, which highlights the deep roots and enduring legacy of Black music, art, and culture while fostering community and storytelling. The sold-out festival will feature a much-anticipated Carolina Chocolate Drops reunion, their first performance together in more than a decade.

Welcome to our porch

Through our many years of playing together on many stages across the globe, we have been able to share our Carolina roots with lots of people. But our tradition really doesn’t live on the stage; it lives on a back porch of Mebane, in a living room in Morganton and in countless other places wherever a musician might find themselves. We wanted to revisit the sounds, places, and textures at the beginning of our musical journey together and to share that experience with y’all. The rain, the cicadas, and thunder become part of the band, grounding us and the music firmly in the long narrative of the place we call home

South Londons’ indomitable Medlar delivers an ambitious new album

The long-time underground favourite has collaborated with the likes of Dele Sosimi, Rebekah Reid, Deevoenay, Finn Peters, Sam Virdie, Afla Sackey and Arnau Obiols on an album that finds him taking his production to new levels.
From roots playing illegal raves in the South West to building up a cultured catalogue that bounces between house and garage, Medlar has long been part of the underground conversation. He has dropped a previous album and many innovative remixes and edits for the likes of Billy Cobham and Shirley Lites, worked in the studio and on stage with Afro legend Dele Sosimi and most recently released an album under his own name that collected myriad different sonic sketches from the past 15 years.

Islands is an altogether different proposition that comes after establishing himself as a mix engineer and producer of other people's music. In that time, Medlar has honed his skills, learnt new tricks and grown more able to express himself in sound. The result is an album that explores a more electronic palette inspired by '80s fusion sounds whilst maintaining a loose, organic flow through his use of live instrumentation. “The idea for the LP was for a collection of music which could sit alone as club tracks, but would work equally well as part of a whole. The name Islands came from this, as there's some connecting ideas but the tracks sit independently in their own little sonic worlds. I took a lot of inspiration from early 80’s electronic music produced during early years of MIDI technology… proto house, jazz fusion, electronic disco and experimental ambient. I wanted to juxtapose some of these methods with more contemporary production and make something that's ultimately quite fun!” says Medlar of the record which could easily soundtrack a summer road trip.

Across 11 tracks, he blends old-school techniques like a fusion of live instruments, FM synthesis and MIDI triggered vocal samples with more contemporary touches such as punchy, club-friendly drums and dub inspired, speaker-wobbling low end. The result is less reliant on samples than his previous works and makes for a perfect blend of retro authenticity and future freshness.

Crystal clear vinyl. 'PO$T AMERICAN' is the second full-length album by Dead Pioneers. Written in February and recorded in July, it preempts the 2024 American election but wraps up the fears and frustrations as eloquently and, crucially, humorously as the band's 2023 self-titled debut. "Currently, we are amidst the gross existence of capitalism, colonialism, white supremacy and the many oppressive forces that have come to inform everything around us" says vocalist and songwriter Gregg Deal. "The title PO$T AMERICAN informs a collective disenfranchisement and disillusionment to the so-called American dream, while moving forward with hope of a desired designation of unity outside those that would use us for their own capitalistic power grab." The aural palate is broadly the same, but it feels expanded, stronger somehow: drawing on the confrontational writing of Rage Against The Machine, the unapologetic voice of Chuck D and Public Enemy, the storytelling of Johnny Cash, the evolution of IDLES, and punk stalwarts including Black Flag, Rollins Band and Dead Kennedys. Overall the resulting feeling across the new album is one of cautious optimism: "Although we didn't expect the political relevance to become more relevant, we have no illusions to the American dream, or to where we seem to be going. But we have hope that we can get to a better place for people to have what they need." It is an album that speaks to and for this precise time and place; that perhaps could not exist at any other time. It is an album for now.

Crystal clear vinyl. 'PO$T AMERICAN' is the second full-length album by Dead Pioneers. Written in February and recorded in July, it preempts the 2024 American election but wraps up the fears and frustrations as eloquently and, crucially, humorously as the band's 2023 self-titled debut. "Currently, we are amidst the gross existence of capitalism, colonialism, white supremacy and the many oppressive forces that have come to inform everything around us" says vocalist and songwriter Gregg Deal. "The title PO$T AMERICAN informs a collective disenfranchisement and disillusionment to the so-called American dream, while moving forward with hope of a desired designation of unity outside those that would use us for their own capitalistic power grab." The aural palate is broadly the same, but it feels expanded, stronger somehow: drawing on the confrontational writing of Rage Against The Machine, the unapologetic voice of Chuck D and Public Enemy, the storytelling of Johnny Cash, the evolution of IDLES, and punk stalwarts including Black Flag, Rollins Band and Dead Kennedys. Overall the resulting feeling across the new album is one of cautious optimism: "Although we didn't expect the political relevance to become more relevant, we have no illusions to the American dream, or to where we seem to be going. But we have hope that we can get to a better place for people to have what they need." It is an album that speaks to and for this precise time and place; that perhaps could not exist at any other time. It is an album for now.

Transparent yellow vinyl, limited to 300 copies. GSA exclusive Indie variant. 'PO$T AMERICAN' is the second full-length album by Dead Pioneers. Written in February and recorded in July, it preempts the 2024 American election but wraps up the fears and frustrations as eloquently and, crucially, humorously as the band's 2023 self-titled debut. "Currently, we are amidst the gross existence of capitalism, colonialism, white supremacy and the many oppressive forces that have come to inform everything around us" says vocalist and songwriter Gregg Deal. "The title PO$T AMERICAN informs a collective disenfranchisement and disillusionment to the so-called American dream, while moving forward with hope of a desired designation of unity outside those that would use us for their own capitalistic power grab." The aural palate is broadly the same, but it feels expanded, stronger somehow: drawing on the confrontational writing of Rage Against The Machine, the unapologetic voice of Chuck D and Public Enemy, the storytelling of Johnny Cash, the evolution of IDLES, and punk stalwarts including Black Flag, Rollins Band and Dead Kennedys. Overall the resulting feeling across the new album is one of cautious optimism: "Although we didn't expect the political relevance to become more relevant, we have no illusions to the American dream, or to where we seem to be going. But we have hope that we can get to a better place for people to have what they need." It is an album that speaks to and for this precise time and place; that perhaps could not exist at any other time. It is an album for now.

'Wherever You Are' is a new solo piano album, played and composed by John Foxx. Most of the recordings were made at home and in the early hours of morning in the weeks following his rare live performance at Kings Place, London in October 2023, as part of the BBC Radio 3 'Night Tracks' event. 'Around dawn is the best time to play piano,' says Foxx. 'Self-critical mechanisms mostly dormant, so I'm free to invent and enjoy for a while. The piano faces a window overlooking a valley surrounded by hills, where the sun comes up. There's often an early mist in the valley - and quite often, it rains. Some notes and sounds resonate with remembered experiences and you get glimpses of times and people. It's valuable. Quiet. Free association, myriad moments orbiting - and off you go.' He adds: 'Lately I'm realising how we get formed by other people. Everyone we know or knew, who affects the way we think and the way we see things - even in a small way, has a voice, and all those voices remain in a sort of lifelong conversation. I hear them all the time. It's not at all frantic, it's more oceanic - calm and pleasant and it eventually makes us the way we are. Luckily, I seem to have met - and meet - mostly good, generous, bright people and I'm still learning a great deal from all of them. They give you the touchstones, the maps, the weather. It's how we find our way. So - simply, thanks. Wherever you are.'

Scientist's name will be found on many dub releases in peoples record collections.His connection to King Tubby's studio is inseparable and many say when the dub end of Reggae music had fallen on quieter times it was Scientist with his often stripped back style and at other times, wild off the wall remixes that breathed life back into the dub cannon.

Scientist (born Overton Brownie,1960, Jamaica) was in many ways King Tubby's apprentice. Having helped his own father out repairing televisions and such like, he would help Tubby on winding transformer coils, that the amps of the day all needed. His interest in recording grew as he watched the many sessions taking place at Tubby's Dromilly Avenue Studio, learning the ropes as the musicians came and went. His first break happened when King Jammy (then Prince Jammy) was too tired to work on a session booked for producer Errol 'Don' Mais. Scientist engineered the session to every one’s bewilderment and great satisfaction.

His first hit would be a mix of Barrington Levy's 'Collie Weed' and his reputation built on the many versions he cut at Tubby's where he would become the engineer of choice. His pared down mixing style suited the new Dancehall reggae sound that came at the tail end of the 1970's and rolled into the 1980's. Such was his stature that albums were now sold with his name on their jacket, 'Scientist Vs Prince Jammy, 'Scientist meets The Space Invaders' to name but two.

His time at King Tubby's was followed as chief engineer working for the Hookim Brothers at the mighty Channel 1 Studio's and on many of top producer Henry 'Junjo' Lawes tracks, that were hit after hit at the time.

We have compiled some tuff tracks from the late 70's / early 80's just before everything went digital. Some great dub versions to some killer tracks that rocked the dancehalls around this golden time.The mighty Tristan Palmer whose killer cuts 'BadBoys','Stop Spreading Rumours','Eveready' and 'The Greatest Lover’ alongside Michael Palmer's debut release 'Mr Landlord' and Robert Trench's 'Mr Babylon'. The songs stand back-to-back with Tony Tuff's timeless 'Never Trouble Trouble' and the biblical Rod Taylor's 'The Lord is My Light'. Sammy Dread's 'Wah Dah Wah' and the always respectful Dennis Brown's 'Time and Place' all benefited a touch of magic from The Scientist and his laboratory of effects.

Hope you enjoy the set.....

Kneading dough is tricky – you should know how it’s supposed to feel. If you try too hard you could make it worse. It’s a beautiful practice – creation with a gentle touch, to work at something so it can be left alone. “If it’s too drawn out it’s awful. It’s easy to give too much.” Dance in the mirror. Contemplate your veiny hands. Who do they remind you of?

You begin by mixing flour and water. “What happens when your people die? Why’d they move the rock to the other side of Ulster Park?” Eliza Niemi asks two seemingly unrelated questions in a rising melody with guitar accompaniment, like fingers playing spider up to the nape of your neck. Gentle pressure. Strands of gluten form to bind the mix. A new question lingers in the binding. When she admits “but I don’t know how to tell if I’m feeling it or not,” that question surfaces through the text. It is reiterated throughout the album. When I’m working with dough I think the same thing to myself.

On Progress Bakery, her second album as a solo artist, Eliza knows to leave some questions alone – to let juxtaposition and tension be the proof. It doesn’t have to be hard. The feelings and revelations they provoke rise in the heat. The smell is sweet. Crispy on the outside and soft all the way through. She playfully slip-slides through words and sounds and images, delighting in surprise, skimming ideas like stones cast across clear water, touching down briefly with uncommon grace.

The question provoked between those opening lines resurfaces in the strands between songs – “Do U FM” is fully formed and beautifully layered, while “Novelist Sad Face” is a short, acapella rendering of gentle curiosity. What is holding these ideas together? Some songs demand more, seem to carry a whole load – eventually the skipping stone will halt to sink and resume its idle duty – while others drift in and out of focus, the way thoughts and dreams become interwoven before the mind is sunk into true sleep.

Music and words don’t always have to interact. Where she decides to keep them apart gives a new contour to where and how she puts them together. The kind of thing you’re supposed to take for granted with songs and their singers comes alive in Eliza’s hands – the little miracle of mixing, kneading, stretching, and stopping.

So often on Progress Bakery, Eliza teases out truth and meaning by asking questions. “Do I wanna be crying?” “Do you want me good or do you want me bad?” “Do I need an eye test?” “I’m writing songs in my head while you’re going over stuff with me — is that cruel??” In “Pocky” Eliza ends with a question that feels to me like the actual biography, succinct and revealing:

I don’t wanna be made to see
I just wanna ask “what’s that?”

Grace that ought to be rare, but in its care and precision is offered humbly, with great generosity, and without announcing itself. Eliza’s simple, miraculous music is given further form and shape by a group of collaborators – invaluable guest musicians Jeremy Ray, Evan Cartwright, Steven McPhail, Kenny Boothby, Ed Squires, Carolina Chauffe, Dorothea Paas, Louie Short, and Avalon Tassonyi. Together with Louie Short, who recorded, mixed, and produced the album along with Jeremy Ray and Lukas Cheung, Eliza has cultivated a richness in sound and texture that prods and provokes the ticklish ear. Barely audible guitar tinkering, a brief lo-fi field recording of trumpets, the harmonic clicking of a looped synthesizer, a flourish of reeds, a child’s conversation, each uncanny sound perfectly placed, rippling out under a soft breeze.

Lay in bed alone at night and ask aloud to the stillness,

“What were you doing at the Albuquerque Airport?
What were you doing there??”

And hear your question answered by a dream of swelling, undulating cellos. Try to grasp at the melody and structure. It’s not an answer (if there could be one), but it moves deeper, closer to the weird layer of fleeting moments and disconnected images, barely perceptible at its core. Wait for the dream reel to click into place.

Eliza took me for a ride in Nicole (her beloved Dodge Grand Caravan) and told me she’d been thinking of the album as an embodiment of transition – and I think every transition, known or unknown, carries the weight of new meaning, skittering off the surface tension of life as you know it, creating ripples, sometimes bouncing off and sometimes breaking through. There is a trick you can use to tell if a dough is glutinous enough. You’re supposed to stretch it out as thin as you can without breaking it and hold it up to the light. If you can see through, even if it renders the world murky and uncertain, you should leave it alone. I love this trick. It’s one that Eliza seems to know intuitively: work gently and ask questions and don’t always expect answers, and when you can, take a glimpse at something new, and then leave.

Kneading dough is tricky – you should know how it’s supposed to feel. If you try too hard you could make it worse. It’s a beautiful practice – creation with a gentle touch, to work at something so it can be left alone. “If it’s too drawn out it’s awful. It’s easy to give too much.” Dance in the mirror. Contemplate your veiny hands. Who do they remind you of?

You begin by mixing flour and water. “What happens when your people die? Why’d they move the rock to the other side of Ulster Park?” Eliza Niemi asks two seemingly unrelated questions in a rising melody with guitar accompaniment, like fingers playing spider up to the nape of your neck. Gentle pressure. Strands of gluten form to bind the mix. A new question lingers in the binding. When she admits “but I don’t know how to tell if I’m feeling it or not,” that question surfaces through the text. It is reiterated throughout the album. When I’m working with dough I think the same thing to myself.

On Progress Bakery, her second album as a solo artist, Eliza knows to leave some questions alone – to let juxtaposition and tension be the proof. It doesn’t have to be hard. The feelings and revelations they provoke rise in the heat. The smell is sweet. Crispy on the outside and soft all the way through. She playfully slip-slides through words and sounds and images, delighting in surprise, skimming ideas like stones cast across clear water, touching down briefly with uncommon grace.

The question provoked between those opening lines resurfaces in the strands between songs – “Do U FM” is fully formed and beautifully layered, while “Novelist Sad Face” is a short, acapella rendering of gentle curiosity. What is holding these ideas together? Some songs demand more, seem to carry a whole load – eventually the skipping stone will halt to sink and resume its idle duty – while others drift in and out of focus, the way thoughts and dreams become interwoven before the mind is sunk into true sleep.

Music and words don’t always have to interact. Where she decides to keep them apart gives a new contour to where and how she puts them together. The kind of thing you’re supposed to take for granted with songs and their singers comes alive in Eliza’s hands – the little miracle of mixing, kneading, stretching, and stopping.

So often on Progress Bakery, Eliza teases out truth and meaning by asking questions. “Do I wanna be crying?” “Do you want me good or do you want me bad?” “Do I need an eye test?” “I’m writing songs in my head while you’re going over stuff with me — is that cruel??” In “Pocky” Eliza ends with a question that feels to me like the actual biography, succinct and revealing:

I don’t wanna be made to see
I just wanna ask “what’s that?”

Grace that ought to be rare, but in its care and precision is offered humbly, with great generosity, and without announcing itself. Eliza’s simple, miraculous music is given further form and shape by a group of collaborators – invaluable guest musicians Jeremy Ray, Evan Cartwright, Steven McPhail, Kenny Boothby, Ed Squires, Carolina Chauffe, Dorothea Paas, Louie Short, and Avalon Tassonyi. Together with Louie Short, who recorded, mixed, and produced the album along with Jeremy Ray and Lukas Cheung, Eliza has cultivated a richness in sound and texture that prods and provokes the ticklish ear. Barely audible guitar tinkering, a brief lo-fi field recording of trumpets, the harmonic clicking of a looped synthesizer, a flourish of reeds, a child’s conversation, each uncanny sound perfectly placed, rippling out under a soft breeze.

Lay in bed alone at night and ask aloud to the stillness,

“What were you doing at the Albuquerque Airport?
What were you doing there??”

And hear your question answered by a dream of swelling, undulating cellos. Try to grasp at the melody and structure. It’s not an answer (if there could be one), but it moves deeper, closer to the weird layer of fleeting moments and disconnected images, barely perceptible at its core. Wait for the dream reel to click into place.

Eliza took me for a ride in Nicole (her beloved Dodge Grand Caravan) and told me she’d been thinking of the album as an embodiment of transition – and I think every transition, known or unknown, carries the weight of new meaning, skittering off the surface tension of life as you know it, creating ripples, sometimes bouncing off and sometimes breaking through. There is a trick you can use to tell if a dough is glutinous enough. You’re supposed to stretch it out as thin as you can without breaking it and hold it up to the light. If you can see through, even if it renders the world murky and uncertain, you should leave it alone. I love this trick. It’s one that Eliza seems to know intuitively: work gently and ask questions and don’t always expect answers, and when you can, take a glimpse at something new, and then leave.

'It begins with a shoebox of mysterious provenance, full of recordings from the Vendée department on France’s western seaboard: songs of love and war, life and death, played out on land and sea. Songs passed down and sung by ordinary men and women, gracefully delivered with the poetic economy which unites the folk song of all peoples.

Next it takes a group of contemporary musicians to make selections from this treasure trove and sing these old songs anew; to sing them for their beauty, of course, and to reclaim the people’s tradition from those who would seek to exploit it for nefarious political ends. Who better for this task than Tartine de Clous, a singing trio from Vendée’s neighbouring department of Charente-Maritime, who burst into national and international consciousness with their debut album "Sans Folklore" in 2015? The result of their shoebox rummagings, the new album "Compter les dents", recorded in 2019 and finally seeing the light of day, is bound to delight old fans and win them many new ones.

Time makes many’s the alteration, and "Compter les dents" finds 'les garçons' - Geoffroy Dudouit, Thomas Georget and Guillaume Maupin - in a different state of being from their debut release. The trio, friends since youth, have certainly matured between albums, as one would expect; consequently the newer performances are more considered and poised, unfolding with a patient confidence. A relaxed domesticity prevails, something to do with the fact that the album was entirely recorded chez les amis, in contrast to the first album, which was mostly recorded at live performances in bars and night-spots across France.

Lending gravitas to the grain of their voices we mark a deepened richness, doubtless born of the various vicissitudes of daily existence which these gentlemen - and we too as citizens of this turmoiled globe - have weathered in the intervening years. Not too dissimilar, in fact,
from some of the vicissitudes detailed in those old Vendée songs. Plus 'ça change', right?

There’s a greater complexity and subtlety to their unique three-part harmonising, too. Their voices mesh in even stronger - almost telepathic - 'fraternité' than ever before: now commanding and mighty as a full-rigged counter-vessel, now gentle and lulling as a mother’s
cradle-croon, or as the whisper in a lover’s ear.

Three legendary figures of French traditional music, now sadly departed, preside as tutelary spirits over Compter les dents. They are: the late Claude Flagel, musician and ethnomusicologist; and the late Jean-Loup Baly of the well-known 1970s band Mélusine. Most of the album was recorded by Claude in the Brussels home he shared with his late wife Lou Flagel. The album is dedicated to the memory of Jean-Loup, Claude and Lou.

For the first time there are several guest instrumentalists working their magic to expand the Tartine de Clous sound. Jean-Loup plays a characterful accordéon on the song ‘La Veuve'. The other guests are: Maurice Artus (voice), Robert Thébaut (violin), Quentin Manfroy (piccolo, contrabassoon), Marceau Portron (cigar box guitar). Their contributions add even more conviviality to that which the trio of singers already share, a sensation which will doubtless be shared by those who happen to find a place in their lives for "Compter les dents".'

Liner notes by Alasdair Roberts.

Toy Tonics Music Berlin presents "Para Mytho Disco". The 2nd "Kapote" album of label founder and creative director Mathias Modica.
Keyboarder, DJ, producer, music nerd, graphic designer, multi-instrumentalist, sub-culture impressario and artist (formerly known as Munk of Gomma records.)

Kapote & Toy Tonics
In the last years Kapote was in the spotlight mainly for building the Toy Tonics label with his friends. Developing a platform for new positive quality dance music with a human touch. Toy Tonics is the opposite of the dark, druggy Techno and Trance sounds of the last years.
The warm inclusive music of Toy Tonics represents a new vibe that a young generation of diverse, stylish and culturally intersted generation of dancers loves now. Kapote's Toy Tonics became the key label for that vibe. (In 2024 Toy Tonics made 150 Toy Tonics events in 18 countries. With more than 150.000 people dancing. 90 millions streams on their music.)
Toy Tonics is more than a music label: It's a audio - visual universe. A community, almost a movement.
Based on a new positive attitude and aesthetic diversity. Mixing musicianship with DJ culture, analogue music with electronic, ideas from the past with sounds from now. To create something new. Connecting dance music with graphic design, art and underground fashion.
Kapote and his gang release vinyl, posters, shirts, art fanzines and make exhibitions and partys.

Toy Tonics started in Berlin as a underground niche project. But now became the key label of the new house, wild style disco and organic dance music scene.
Probably one of Berlin's biggest electronic music phenomena along with Keinemusik and Live from Earth.

It went fast: 2020 Kapote's crew started to make small parties in Berlin's off spaces. The "Toy Tonics Jams". The parties became "talk of the town", and Berlin clubs like Griesmühle and Panorama Bar invited the crew. Then international clubs and festival called. Toy Tonics were invited to SONAR (playing the mainstage with Kaytranada and DJ Tennis), KALA festival, Montreux Jazz festival.
Now TT has a residency at Panorama Bar Berlin and sold out events in Europe leading clubs like Phonox in London, Rex Club in Paris, Tunnel in Milan.
Toy Tonics now is the reference brand of a new generation of music loving dancers. Similar to Gomma records, Kapote's former label (2003 - 2015) that was one of the key labels of the "indie dance" scene of the Y2K years (along with DFA and Output Records).

Kapote created a multi-cultural movement with graphic designers, photographers, illustrators from the Berlin scene.
They publish the Toy Tonics Pocket Poster magazine, posters and design shirts. They organize the Toy Tonics Pop Up Galleries mixing music and art. In underground venues in Berlin and in new gallery spaces and museums around Europe.
Toy Tonics has been invited by Palais de Tokio museum in Paris, Triennale Museum Berlin, Design week Milano to create events.
The new Kapote album
The 12 tracks have a very own style. Based on dance music, but going much further. "Para Mytho Disco' is a futuristic mix of sounds. It's far away from the dark monotone techno and trance music from Kapote's hometown Berlin. Instead, he creates warm friendly atmospheres full of sonic colours and little musical surprises.
Kapote's knowlege of music history and his backround as a jazz piano student and son of classic music composer is clearly inside this music. Before turning into a DJ and electronic music producer he has been playing in bands since he was 13 years old.
The album is full of emotional chord progressions played by Kapote on various keyboards. Sometimes reminding music from the past, without being retro at all. The basslines and melodies are inspired by jazz fusion from the 1970ies. And he programmed syncopated grooves that come from afro-american dance music. There are influences from Japanese electronic music (Yellow Magic Orchestra), from 1980s Synthwave and from 1990s electronica (like Squarepusher and Luke Vibert).

Kapote plays keys, bass, flutes and percussions, he plays synth solos and sings on a few tracks. The complexity of the arrangements makes this music never boring. Lot of melodies and solos that catch the listener. Colourful soundscapes that make you want to listen or dance to this album more, and discover details also after you heard it several times.

Kapote background

Before starting Toy Tonics, Kapote used to run a label called Gomma. He produced four albums under the name Munk and music for other artists.
He produced music with Peaches, Franz Ferdinand founder Nick McCarthy, with New York street art legend The Rammellzee, Italian actress Asia Argento, the first three albums of WhoMadeWho and worked with LCD Soundsystem (listen to "Kick out the chairs", the Munk song with James Murphy )
In those "Gomma days" Kapote aka Munk was also one of the main DJs for VICE magazine parties and made music for art projects and fashion brands (Margiela, Prada, Colette).
In 2015 he stopped Munk and Gomma and started Toy Tonics. He found young producers and helped to develop their sound (Coeo, Cody Currie, Gee Lane, Barbara Boeing, Sam Ruffillo). Later he founded the sublabel Kryptox to release music by Berlin based bands that make new forms of jazz or neo classical sounds.

Under the name Kapote Mathias didnt release much:
Only his Kapote debut album "What it is" (2019) and an EP called "Electric Slide" (2022) and a collabo EP with Italian producer Sam Ruffillo ("Robot Salsa").

An although his Munk and Kapote music was an underground phenomena his music has always been a favourite of many great people from the scene.
Supported by DJs like Harvey, Chromeo, Moodymann, Jennifer Cardini, Gerd Janson, MYD, Andrew Weatherall to Blessed Madonna, Justice and Laurent Garnier… to name just a few.

OHYUNG aka Lia Ouyang Rusli describes their new album as “my trans self and my former self in conversation, from both perspectives.” The record represents their lengthy, complicated, but crucial journey between lives, strewn with both doubt and excitement. It is an ecstatic, pop-oriented shift in direction from an artist primarily known for noise, experimental hip-hop, and ambient music, but carried with sleek confidence, maturity, and a silvery, hallucinogenic shimmer that reveals Rusli’s experimental background. It is, writes Rusli, “sometimes written from a dark place and other times from a place of happiness.” Throughout, darkness and light rise and fall in layers of phased strings, trip-hop drum production, and earworming vocal lines.

Also a film score composer, Rusli’s songwriting craft is meticulous and nuanced. You Are Always On My Mind was, perhaps surprisingly, formed primarily from processed “generic string loops” found in online sample packs - a strange and wilfully jarring reminder that what seems to be is not always what is. Recontextualised, these string loops enshadow the simplicity of their origins and reveal a grace and purposefulness perhaps not even imagined by their authors, subtly drawing out euphoria and tension in equal balance.

Rusli also writes of the influence of rave culture central to their transition, and of the record’s production and theme. “It’s a declaration of love for raves and the dark hazy rooms that helped me to be free and true with myself— seeing other people who are so free and beautiful and thinking that one day that can be me— that’s me in the future.” But there is also a fear and unease present. Key moment “no good” explores “the worst version of myself as a trans person, feeding doubt to my pre-transition self” with its core lyric anyone can see / I’m no good for you, delivered over a relentless beat, swooning strings, and glistening synthesis.

Later, “i swear that i could die rn” renders a Spectreish Motown beat lamenting and lush with breathy synths and knife-edge melodies that eventually yield a hazy, gliding string section, created again from mutated, spliced, and transitioned royalty-free sample packs. The track is about “seeing my beautiful friends at raves and feeling at home appreciating the harsh noises of hardcore techno and acid. Feeling that I could die at this moment and be happy.”

The Crystal Hum is the debut vinyl release by Taiwan-based artist Yuching Huang and her first release for Night School.
A beguiling dreamscape of crackles, spluttering, love-struck Casios presided over by the the spectral vocal and guitar work of Huang, Yuching sings love songs at the end of this world and the beginning of the next. Recorded during a hiatus from her group Aemong (a duo with artist Henrique Uba) in Berlin, these songs elevate Huang’s unique vocal style and grasp of atmospherics. The Crystal Hum deconstructs balladry, Garage, guitar music and reforms it into a
unified ghostly otherworld version of these languages.

The Crystal Hum thrums with buried desire, trails of nocturnal reverb seeping out of apartment windows, diaristic vocal performances and deeply emotive, evocative Western-style strings. Formulated by Yuching Huang after periods of frustration and experimentation, the album is an exercise in minimalism and paring back, with some tracks like JohnJohn featuring little else than an elastic bass, spring reverb trails, an interjecting vocal and swelling, dislocated synths. The effect is spellbinding, the soundtrack to getting lost in the labyrinthine, closed streets of Venice, Taipei, Hong Kong, or mirror versions of them in the imagination.

On opener Fly! Little Black Thing, a subterranean funk bassline roots Huang’s singing, a rudimentary, unreliable beat floundering in whimsy underneath. Demure, dream Dance music, Huang references classic lo fi experimenters Suicide and Arthur Russell as well as Night School label mates The Space Lady and Ela Orleans. In fact, after the release of Aemong’s third album Crimson, Huang credits the direction of The Crystal Hum to being enchanted by The Space Lady’s Greatest Hits,
the landmark lo-fi recording made by Susan Dietrich Schneider in 1990. The new, minimalist approach to her sound world reveals and shrouds in equal measure. On the heart-melter Love, a sultry mid-tempo Casio + bass backing drops into the ether with Huang’s vocal swimming in preternatural void before emerging anew, in awe at the world. Every chord change heralds new perspectives, every guitar flurry swells and drips emotion, nothing is wasted and space billows out from between the grooves.
Huang never reveals more than necessary, making this an in-between love album: the right amount of mystery and darkened mirror shines wanely on The Crystal Hum while remaining fragile and vulnerable in the sweet spots. Turning over in pillowing smoke and night in the dark corners, Huang sings in both Mandarin and English. The songs speak of earthly matters seemingly at the edge of dissipating into nothing. Distorted, beguiling Sambas warble like sweating dancehalls in an imagined Lynchian 60s, as on Thoughts. Closer You, An Illusion warps a classic 60s Girlgroup bassline beloved of the likes of Les Rallizes

Denudes into a slight ballad on the edge of the void, held back by the teary-eyed, wistful and enveloping vocal cooed by Huang. Each song feels like a love song dedicated to the bits between worlds, between beats, the negative space between people where desires, feelings and loss hangs in the air, resolute and unresolved.

'Through Today' is the sophomore album for rising Australian band Chimers. A husband / wife duo comprising life partners Padraic Skehan (vocals / guitar) and Binx (drums / vocals). Recorded by Jono Boulet (Party Dozen) over two days at Stranded Studios, Wollongong and mixed at Boulet’s Sydney home studio, produced by the band and veteran manager / promoter / producer Tim Pittman (Feel Presents), 'Through Today' features ten tracks of tightly-coiled intensity that barely lets up for all of its 34 mins. In enlisting Boulet, the band were confident that due to his own experience of being one half of Party Dozen, they had someone who understood the confines of working within the structure of a two-piece but also the possibilities that creates. Boulet, in turn, rewarding that trust by capturing a powerful bedrock of sound that allowed the band's taught rhythms to circle and permeate and yet give full breathing space for the melody within. For Pittman’s part, having a third ear on hand to devote serious listening time and critical commentary was an added bonus. It’s a major step forward from the band’s 2021 self-titled debut. A twelve track effort that snuck out during covid and only hinted at the power within. "Our debut felt more like just trying to capture the songs we had at the time, we weren’t sure if we’d even release it or if it would be our only album" "This time around we were intent on capturing the energy and intensity of our live show on the recording but with a more produced sound than self-titled. We worked more on song structure previous to the sessions. We rehearsed a lot playing quietly so we could actually talk to each other whilst playing the song and iron out any kinks.” “Jono turned the whole live room into a drum room, mics everywhere. The guitar amps were situated outside to prevent too much spill but still recorded live along with about half of the vocals. Second guitar and the rest of the vocals were recorded the next day. Jono was super quick and had the same work ethic and mindset, get in, get it done. If the first take was good enough, move on.” - Padraic Lyrically Chimers maintain the intensity as they tackle the themes of love, life, death and relationships, distance from home (Padraic is Irish, moving to Australia in 2001) and the current political climate providing enough drama to fuel a forest fire. Guest musicians on the album include saxophonist Kirsty Tickle - also of Party Dozen - and violinist Jordan Ireland of The Middle East. Both of whom were invited in on short notice adding their respective parts in just 1-2 takes each without any prior knowledge of the material. Binx too showing added versatility contributing lead vocals to An Echo and sharing lead across 3AM, Generator and others. “Singing is not something that comes naturally to me, and it was at the last minute before we went into the studio that Padraic suggested I sing the lead in An Echo. Having very minimal musical instruments within the band I think having the two different vocals adds a nice dynamic to the record.” - Binx 'Through Today' is a great album. Solid and confident from the get go. No waste. No unnecessary fat. Should it be Chimers last it would remain a defining statement of originality and intent. But it’s not the last, it’s just the beginning. And there’s plenty more where that came from. BIO Like many good bands Chimers are a band born of isolation, not geographically though, via the pandemic. Irish born Padraic Skehan and his life partner Binx, formed the band in their Wollongong backyard during the initial lockdown of 2020. Veterans and drummers both of the ‘Gong’s vibrant garage-scene – The Pink Fits, The Drop Offs, Evol and more – Chimers is an altogether different beast, Padraic taking a giant leap forward by removing himself from the back-seat and assuming the role of driver; singing, playing guitar and writing the songs that would eventually become their 2021 self-titled debut album. It’s a sound and album that draws heavily on Skehan’s time as a youth in Ireland and the post-hardcore sounds of Dischord Records, Husker Du, The Wipers and which has seen the band find friends and favour in like-minds The Mark Of Cain, Henry Rollins, Guy Picciotto and Mudhoney. This is no mere nostalgia though, the band instead landing at the vanguard of a new generation of Sydney and surrounds bands – Body Type, Second Idol, Dust, Private Wives, R.M.F.C – borrowing from the past in order to create a future.

TYRON is a tale of two halves exposing human complexity. Just as with the narrative of his own life, there are always two sides to every story. Side one re-introduces us to the classic hubris, machismo, and braggadocio typical of rap music. Side two takes what you thought you knew about slowthai and flips on its head. ‘feel away’ and ‘nhs’ go some way to dip a toe inside the complexities of his mind but delve deeper and you’ll be left with a clearer understanding of who he truly is. Honesty is paramount as ultimately Ty wants listeners to know that “it’s ok to be yourself”.

TYRON was formed against the backdrop of an unforgiving climate where judgement, shaming and underdeveloped and simplistic conceptions of other people are fashionable. Instead of succumbing to such simplicity, TYRON presents an artist who is unabashedly complicated and willing to explore themes of loneliness, identity, self-acceptance, and the difficulties in becoming an individual. Unlike the political overtone of slowthai’s debut album ‘Nothing Great About Britain’ which took listeners on a journey through slowthai’s turbulent upbringing and his stance on British life – this self-titled follow up, TYRON is a melodic dive through the expansive landscape of his feelings. His ability to bear his imperfections and contradictions makes TYRON an album that is the antithesis of a culture of purity. A resistance to the rising tide of moral one-upmanship and the pervasive self-righteousness that blinds us to our own fallibility.

Kneading dough is tricky – you should know how it’s supposed to feel. If you try too hard you could make it worse. It’s a beautiful practice – creation with a gentle touch, to work at something so it can be left alone. “If it’s too drawn out it’s awful. It’s easy to give too much.” Dance in the mirror. Contemplate your veiny hands. Who do they remind you of?

You begin by mixing flour and water. “What happens when your people die? Why’d they move the rock to the other side of Ulster Park?” Eliza Niemi asks two seemingly unrelated questions in a rising melody with guitar accompaniment, like fingers playing spider up to the nape of your neck. Gentle pressure. Strands of gluten form to bind the mix. A new question lingers in the binding. When she admits “but I don’t know how to tell if I’m feeling it or not,” that question surfaces through the text. It is reiterated throughout the album. When I’m working with dough I think the same thing to myself.

On Progress Bakery, her second album as a solo artist, Eliza knows to leave some questions alone – to let juxtaposition and tension be the proof. It doesn’t have to be hard. The feelings and revelations they provoke rise in the heat. The smell is sweet. Crispy on the outside and soft all the way through. She playfully slip-slides through words and sounds and images, delighting in surprise, skimming ideas like stones cast across clear water, touching down briefly with uncommon grace.

The question provoked between those opening lines resurfaces in the strands between songs – “Do U FM” is fully formed and beautifully layered, while “Novelist Sad Face” is a short, acapella rendering of gentle curiosity. What is holding these ideas together? Some songs demand more, seem to carry a whole load – eventually the skipping stone will halt to sink and resume its idle duty – while others drift in and out of focus, the way thoughts and dreams become interwoven before the mind is sunk into true sleep.

Music and words don’t always have to interact. Where she decides to keep them apart gives a new contour to where and how she puts them together. The kind of thing you’re supposed to take for granted with songs and their singers comes alive in Eliza’s hands – the little miracle of mixing, kneading, stretching, and stopping.

So often on Progress Bakery, Eliza teases out truth and meaning by asking questions. “Do I wanna be crying?” “Do you want me good or do you want me bad?” “Do I need an eye test?” “I’m writing songs in my head while you’re going over stuff with me — is that cruel??” In “Pocky” Eliza ends with a question that feels to me like the actual biography, succinct and revealing:

I don’t wanna be made to see
I just wanna ask “what’s that?”

Grace that ought to be rare, but in its care and precision is offered humbly, with great generosity, and without announcing itself. Eliza’s simple, miraculous music is given further form and shape by a group of collaborators – invaluable guest musicians Jeremy Ray, Evan Cartwright, Steven McPhail, Kenny Boothby, Ed Squires, Carolina Chauffe, Dorothea Paas, Louie Short, and Avalon Tassonyi. Together with Louie Short, who recorded, mixed, and produced the album along with Jeremy Ray and Lukas Cheung, Eliza has cultivated a richness in sound and texture that prods and provokes the ticklish ear. Barely audible guitar tinkering, a brief lo-fi field recording of trumpets, the harmonic clicking of a looped synthesizer, a flourish of reeds, a child’s conversation, each uncanny sound perfectly placed, rippling out under a soft breeze.

Lay in bed alone at night and ask aloud to the stillness,

“What were you doing at the Albuquerque Airport?
What were you doing there??”

And hear your question answered by a dream of swelling, undulating cellos. Try to grasp at the melody and structure. It’s not an answer (if there could be one), but it moves deeper, closer to the weird layer of fleeting moments and disconnected images, barely perceptible at its core. Wait for the dream reel to click into place.

Eliza took me for a ride in Nicole (her beloved Dodge Grand Caravan) and told me she’d been thinking of the album as an embodiment of transition – and I think every transition, known or unknown, carries the weight of new meaning, skittering off the surface tension of life as you know it, creating ripples, sometimes bouncing off and sometimes breaking through. There is a trick you can use to tell if a dough is glutinous enough. You’re supposed to stretch it out as thin as you can without breaking it and hold it up to the light. If you can see through, even if it renders the world murky and uncertain, you should leave it alone. I love this trick. It’s one that Eliza seems to know intuitively: work gently and ask questions and don’t always expect answers, and when you can, take a glimpse at something new, and then leave.

Six track EP full of warm deep house music, spacy jazz not jazz, african and brasil rhythms, plus a portion of psychedelic funk poetry.

‚Children Of Zu Zu‘ is Charles Petersohn‘s restart after his previous label release from 18 years ago, besides some experiments on Bandcamp and SoundCloud. On this EP sound merges into each other, is producing an organic flow. Smooth deep house, different kinds of jazz and jazznotjazz, african rhythms, Brasil batucada, psychedelic funk poetry, inspired by Dr. John and most of all the space music and afrofuturist philosophy of Sun Ra and his Arkestra. Soundscapes and atmos in the background of each song give the music a deeper feel. It took its time to get the music ready. There was the desire of having Web Web pianist Roberto di Gioia in the music, took months. But it was worth waiting. Roberto planted some magic moments in to it. On other hand Charles is hyper critic with his own sound. If jumping into to arena again, there should be something special. When he will be okay with every inch of his sonic work, then its done! ‚Children Of Zu Zu‘ became a collage of thick, warm and smooth housemusic, spacy Ambient Jazz and two dancefloor tools with a deep Afro and Brasil feel.

Here we go with six tracks full of love, full of dreams and full of space.

"Children Of Zu Zu" ist Charles Petersohns Neustart nach seiner letzten Label-Veröffentlichung vor 18 Jahren mit dem Pianisten Jasper van't Hof bei "Jaro". Deep House Music, Jazz Not Jazz, afrobrasilianische Jazz-Grooves, Ambient Jazz, eine von New Orleans Legende Dr. John inspirierte spirituelle Botschaft, einen Gesang von Frauen und Mädchen aus Samoa vom "British Commonwealth Sound Archive" und nicht zuletzt die intergalaktische Poesie von Sun Ra und seinem Arkestra. Soundscapes im Hintergrund fast aller Tracks versetzen die Musik jeweils an einen fiktiven Ort. Es hat seine Zeit gedauert, bis die Musik fertig war. Der Wunsch, den Web Web Pianisten Roberto Di Gioia für die Musik zu gewinnen, schien fast unmöglich. Seine Teilnahme verzögerte sich um mehrere Monate, denn Roberto ist ein vielbeschäftigter Musiker und Produzent. Am Ende hat sich das Warten gelohnt. Er hat der Musik einige magische Momente beschert. Auf der anderen Seite ist Charles mit seinem eigenen Material meist überkritisch. "Wenn ich mich parallel zu so vielen großartigen Musikern und Produzenten überall in der Welt und darüber hinaus mit einer eigenen Botschaft in die Welt begebe, muss das schon etwas Besonderes werden!" Nach endlosen Sessions in seinem Mini-Studio ist 'Children Of Zu Zu' um einiges mehr geworden, als er sich vorgenommen hat. Statt zwei, sind es am Ende sechs Tracks und zwei Bonus-Versionen voller Liebe, voller Träume und voller Space, innerspace und outerspace, geworden. Musik für den Dancefloor, für Jazz Clubs, Chill Zones und obendrein für Kinderzimmer!

This re-issue of the Cocteau Twins' 1993 album has been remastered by Robin Guthrie and is pressed onto high quality 140g vinyl . Cocteau Twins vocalist Elizabeth Fraser, guitarist Robin Guthrie, and bassist Simon Raymonde formed in Grangemouth, Scotland in the late 70s. The brainchild of Guthrie and original bassist Will Heggie, by 1981 they had added Fraser and the following year signed to 4AD, one of the most illustrious of the indie labels. With Raymonde replacing Heggie in 1983, the trio went on to create some of the most unique and otherworldly music of the 80s, built around Guthrie's chiming guitar and Fraser's unmistakable soprano. By the early 90s, the group had just released their most successful album, the commercial Heaven or Las Vegas, but the relationship with 4AD was coming to an end. Mercury imprint Fontana was going through something of a purple patch, signing former underground bands, and by 1992, Cocteau Twins had joined The Fall and the House Of Love. The group's debut album for Fontana, Four-Calendar Cafe, was released in October 1993. Its gossamer melodies and largely upbeat pop bely the turmoil the group were going through. Barney Hoskyns, writing in Mojo, said that Four-Calendar Caf was "the most poignant, heartrending Cocteaus record of all, an album of naked confession and raw beauty . . . Sadness never sounded so luscious." Simon Raymonde agreed: "I think in time people will realise what a great album Four-Calendar Caf is. Because I think it's beautiful." Led by the single Evangeline, the reached No 13 in the UK album chart and is much-loved by fans.

Modern Obscure Music is proud to present Pierre Bastien & DJ Low's "Swing Low", a work that fuses the poetic inventiveness of Pierre Bastien with the visionary legacy of the late DJ Low (Tom Deweerdt), a central figure in Belgian independent music and founder of the influential Lowlands label. This album, which interweaves memory and experimentation, represents Bastien's debut on the Barcelona label's catalog and a testament to the creative bond between the two artists.
The album, composed of seven pieces, stands out for its hybrid nature: five reinterpretations of Bastien's previous works, some of them coming from his influential Mecanoid (originally released by Rephlex), and two unreleased improvisations, A Pupa and Reviver, which seal the unique character of the project.
Pierre Bastien, recognized as a composer, inventor and builder of sound machines, has been a tireless explorer of the frontiers between the mechanical and the musical. From his contribution to the Belcanto Orchestra, his collaboration with the PRSNT project to his participation in Pedro Vian's Earth, Our Planet or his collaboration with Tomaga for the Other People label, his career illustrates a constant commitment to experimentation and the intersection of disciplines. Among the artists he has worked with are names such as Robert Wyatt, Jac Berrocal, Jaki Liebezeit and designer Issey Miyake. His works have found homes on iconic labels such as Marionette, Morphine and Discrepant to name a few.

The album is presented with a visual design by Koen Bruyneel, reinterpreted as a tribute to Tom Deweerdt, a decade after his departure.