Search:some other people

Without a brutal evaluation of their own becoming, TV Priest might have never made their second album. Heralded as the next big thing in post-punk, they were established as a bolshy, sharp-witted outfit, the kind that starts movements with their political ire. There was of course truth in that, but it was a suit that quickly felt heavy on its wearer's shoulders, leaving little room for true vulnerability. "A lot of it did feel like I was being really careful and a bit at arm's length," says vocalist Charlie Drinkwater. "I think maybe I was not fully aware of the role I was taking. I had to take a step back and realize that what we were presenting was quite far away from the opinion of myself that I had. Now, I just want to be honest." Having made music together since their teenage years, the London four-piece piqued press attention in late 2019 with their first gig as a newly solidified group, a raucous outing in the warehouse district of Hackney Wick. Debut single "House of York" followed with a blistering critique of monarchist patriotism, and they were signed to Sub Pop for their debut album. When Uppers arrived in the height of a global pandemic, it reaped praise from critics and fans alike for its "dystopian doublespeak," but the band - Drinkwater, guitarist Alex Sprogis, producer, bass and keys player Nic Bueth and drummer Ed Kelland - were at home like the rest of us, drinking cups of tea and marking time via government-sanctioned daily exercise. As such, the personal and professional landmark of its release felt "both colossal and minuscule" dampened by the inability to share it live. "It was a real gratification and really cathartic, but on the other hand, it was really strange, and not great for my mental health" admits Drinkwater. "I wasn't prepared, and I hadn't necessarily expected it to reach as many people as it did." As such, My Other People maintains a strong sense of earth-rooted emotion, taking advantage of the opportunity to physically connect. Using "Saintless" (the closing song from Uppers) as something of a starting point, Drinkwater set about crafting lyrics that allowed him to articulate a deeper sense of personal truth, using music as a vessel to communicate with his bandmates about his depleting mental health. "Speaking very candidly, it was written at a time and a place where I was not, I would say, particularly well," he says. "There was a lot of things that had happened to myself and my family that were quite troubling moments.Despite that I do think the record has our most hopeful moments too; a lot of me trying to set myself reminders for living, just everyday sentiments to try and get myself out of the space I was in." "It was a bit of a moment for all of us where we realised that we can make something that, to us at least, feels truly beautiful," agrees Bueth. "Brutality and frustration are only a part of that puzzle, and despite a lot of us feeling quite disconnected at the time, overwhelmingly beautiful things were also still happening." This tension between existential fear born from the constant uncertainties of life, and an affirmative, cathartic urge to seize the moment, is central to My Other People, a record that heals by providing space for recognition, a ground zero in which you're welcome to stay awhile but which ultimately only leads up and out. For TV Priest, it is a follow-up that feels truly, properly them; free of bravado, unnecessary bluster or any audience pressure to commit solely to their original sound.

Second Sub Pop album by acclaimed UK act TV Priest finds them building on the
post-punk of their early material and maturing into a powerhouse of tense, politically
caustic, and thoughtful rock music.
Without a brutal evaluation of their own becoming, TV Priest might have never made
their second album. Heralded as the next big thing in post-punk, they were
established as a bolshy, sharp-witted outfit, the kind that starts movements with their
political ire. There was of course truth in that, but it was a suit that quickly felt heavy
on its wearer’s shoulders, leaving little room for true vulnerability. “A lot of it did feel
like I was being really careful and a bit at arm's length,” says vocalist Charlie
Drinkwater. “I think maybe I was not fully aware of the role I was taking. I had to take
a step back and realize that what we were presenting was quite far away from the
opinion of myself that I had. Now, I just want to be honest.”
Having made music together since their teenage years, the London four-piece piqued
press attention in late 2019 with their first gig as a newly solidified group, a raucous
outing in the warehouse district of Hackney Wick. Debut single ‘House of York’
followed with a blistering critique of monarchist patriotism, and they were signed to
Sub Pop for their debut album. When ‘Uppers’ arrived in the height of a global
pandemic, it reaped praise from critics and fans alike for its “dystopian doublespeak,”
but the band - Drinkwater, guitarist Alex Sprogis, producer, bass and keys player Nic
Bueth and drummer Ed Kelland - were at home like the rest of us, drinking cups of
tea and marking time via government-sanctioned daily exercise. As such, the
personal and professional landmark of its release felt “both colossal and minuscule”
dampened by the inability to share it live. “It was a real gratification and really
cathartic, but on the other hand, it was really strange, and not great for my mental
health,” admits Drinkwater. “I wasn’t prepared, and I hadn’t necessarily expected it to
reach as many people as it did.”
As such, ‘My Other People’ maintains a strong sense of earth-rooted emotion, taking
advantage of the opportunity to physically connect. Using ‘Saintless’ (the closing
song from ‘Uppers’) as something of a starting point, Drinkwater set about crafting
lyrics that allowed him to articulate a deeper sense of personal truth, using music as
a vessel to communicate with his bandmates about his depleting mental health.
“Speaking very candidly, it was written at a time and a place where I was not, I would
say, particularly well,” he says. “There was a lot of things that had happened to
myself and my family that were quite troubling moments. Despite that I do think the
record has our most hopeful moments too; a lot of me trying to set myself reminders
for living, just everyday sentiments to try and get myself out of the space I was in.”
“It was a bit of a moment for all of us where we realised that we can make something
that, to us at least, feels truly beautiful,” agrees Bueth. “Brutality and frustration are
only a part of that puzzle, and despite a lot of us feeling quite disconnected at the
time, overwhelmingly beautiful things were also still happening.”
This tension between existential fear born from the constant uncertainties of life, and
an affirmative, cathartic urge to seize the moment, is central to ‘My Other People’, a
record that heals by providing space for recognition, a ground zero in which you’re
welcome to stay awhile but which ultimately only leads up and out. For TV Priest, it is
a follow-up that feels truly, properly them; free of bravado, unnecessary bluster or
any audience pressure to commit solely to their original sound.

‘Mehldau can truly translate his thoughts and feelings into complex and lasting music. He is one of those people whose brain and fingers and musical ability is all one beautiful entity.’ – Jamie Cullum

Nonesuch Records releases Brad Mehldau’s Jacob’s Ladder on 2 x 140g black vinyl on June 17th . The album features new music that reflects on scripture and the search for God through music inspired by the prog rock Mehldau loved as a young adolescent, which was his gateway to the fusion that eventually led to his discovery of jazz. Featured musicians on the album include Mehldau’s label mates Chris Thile and Cécile McLorin Salvant, as well as Mark Guiliana, Becca Stevens, Joel Frahm, and others. The album’s first single, ‘maybe as his skies are wide’, builds off an interpolation of one portion of Rush’s classic ‘Tom Sawyer’.

Mehldau explains, “We are born close to God, and as we mature, we invariably move further and further away from Him on account of our ego. Jacob’s Ladder begins at that place closer to God with the voice of child, and then moves into the world of action. God is always there, but in our discovery and conquest, and all the joys and sorrows they bring, we may lose sight of him. He sets a ladder before us though, like in Jacob’s dream, and we climb towards him, to find reconciliation with ourselves, to stitch up all those worldly wounds and finally heal. The record ends with my vision of heaven – once again as a child, His child, in eternal grace, in ecstasy.

“The musical conduit on the record is prog,” Mehldau continues. “Prog – progressive rock – was the music of my childhood, before I discovered jazz. It matched the fantasy and science fiction books I read from C.S. Lewis, Madeleine L’Engle and others at that time, aged ten through twelve. It was my gateway to the fusion of Miles Davis, Weather Report, Mahavishnu Orchestra and other groups, which in turn was the gateway to more jazz. Jazz shared with prog a broader expressive scope and larger-scale ambitions than the rock music I had known already.

“The prog from Rush, Gentle Giant, and Emerson, Lake and Palmer here only hints at the genre’s conceptual, compositional and emotional range. These bands and others have continued to influence newer groups that bring prog impulses into the arena of hard rock and screaming math metal, like Periphery, whose music is included here, and also inspired the screaming vocals on ‘Herr und Knecht.’ I tried to avoid a direct tribute approach to all the songs, and opted in some cases for excerpts, or reworking of themes.”

Although Brad Mehldau is best known as a jazz composer and improviser, he has made several albums that fall outside of the mainstream jazz genre, including his 2001 Largo, produced by Jon Brion. Wide-ranging in texture and big in scale, it features woodwind or brass ensembles are on several tracks, as well as a heavy emphasis on powerful drums. In 2010, Nonesuch released his second collaboration with Brion, Highway Rider, which includes performances by Mehldau’s trio – drummer Jeff Ballard and bassist Larry Grenadier – as well as drummer Matt Chamberlain, saxophonist Joshua Redman, and a chamber orchestra led by Dan Coleman. Mehldau also orchestrated and arranged the album’s fifteen pieces for the ensemble.

Mehldau’s 2014 collaboration with Mark Guiliana, Mehliana: Taming the Dragon featured Mehldau on Fender Rhodes and synthesizers and Guiliana on drums and effects, playing twelve original tunes – six by the duo and six by Mehldau. His 2019 album Finding Gabriel featured performances by him on piano, synthesizers, percussion, and Fender Rhodes, as well as vocals. Guest musicians included Ambrose Akinmusire, Sara Caswell, Kurt Elling, Joel Frahm, Mark Guiliana, Gabriel Kahane, and Becca Stevens, among others.

Having initially met more than a decade ago at a local community radio station, sometimes doing guest slots on each other’s live, improvised noise shows, Cormac Culkeen and Dave Grenon knew they had a mutual interest in working with sonic textures. They listened to each other’s bands for a handful of years, and in 2017, “made good on a threat” that they’d been making for quite a long time: to start a band. At Cormac’s gentle but clear urging—declaring that they’d gone ahead and booked a space in which to record a video—the two wrote their first song, “Sebaldus,” an ambitious 12-minute trip, which also serves as the fireworks finale to their self-titled debut album. With surges of pathos that smooth out into something more soothing in turn, Cormac goes: “The hunter, you’ve seen him / The archer, his arrows are strong / And hunger, you’ve known her / I know the winter is long.” The track is as much about enduring a Canadian winter as it is about the eponymous 8th century hermit, shot through with sublimated desire. As Cormac put it, Joyful Joyful’s songs are “a little bit outside of time.” But while the lyrics beg close, oblique reading unto themselves, there’s also a distinct sense that they’re only one of many more ways that the duo shapes sound. Cormac, whose voice is like a sea with irregular tides, lights up about an idea in traditional sean-nós Irish music that songs already exist and are out there; it’s up to the singer to become the conduit. This belief in music as something to be channelled, and something more than sound, resonates with the singer’s fundamentalist religious past. To paraphrase: lots of group singing, harmonies, no instrumentation, totally unmediated, no priest, congregational—not choral, not a performance, not about talent, the spirit moves through people. “Of course that informs how I think about singing,” Cormac says. So, when they were exiled from the church because of their queerness, they took the music with them, dislocating it from its dogmatic bounds but not from its transcendent potential. This record might be thought of, then, as a kind of queering of sacred, devotional traditions—or at the very least, a space where all of these things can be held at once. Perhaps perceivable by some as contradictions, these intersecting influences create the conditions for an incredibly singular sound. Dave is steady and exploratory in his handling of this multiplicity, arranging sounds as they’re revealed, corralling them, coaxing them into form. “Because Dave is there,” Cormac says, “I get to sing three times higher, and three times lower, and faster, and backwards, and all of these sounds! That are there. They’re all there.” When asked about early musical memories, Cormac recalled an immediate fascination with harmony: from demanding that the first person they ever heard singing it explain what they were doing, to always (still, to this day) singing in harmony with their twin sister around the house, to being part of a children’s choir that sang soprano in Handel’s Messiah—not realizing until they entered the room with all the other ranges that their learned melody was but one part of the whole. Just as tellingly, Dave reflects on his early attraction to “abstraction and becoming abstract,” describing childhood afternoons messing with microphone and speaker feedback loops, producing long, enduring sounds with almost undetectable variations. In a way unique to the coalescing of these two listeners, notions of harmony are central to their output. Dave samples field recordings, old keyboards and synths, and vocal drones, running the live singing through four or five parallel effects chains, sampling and treating everything again in the moment. “Another way to put it is that Cormac’s voice comes into the board and then comes back out shifted, delayed, and shattered; Cormac and I hear it, live with it, and respond,” Dave says. This work is contingent not only on a deep intuition (neither of them read sheet music) of polyphony and due proportion (something St Thomas Aquinas famously listed as an attribute of beauty) but also on their connection to each other and ability to read subtle cues. Dave says they’d hold each other’s hands while performing if it was more convenient to do so, riffing on something else Cormac mentioned about traditional Irish singing: that someone would always hold the singer’s hand, for fear that without a tether to the ground they might find themselves utterly lost, unsure how to return. Joyful Joyful doesn’t shy away from offering such experiences of departure; they’re willing to unsettle their audiences because they themselves are unsettled. Their shared penchant for spooky, heavy music, and self-described “omnivorous” listening practices equip them with an array of sonic concepts that support this effort; Diamanda Galás, The Rankin Family, Pan Sonic, Pauline Oliveros, Keith Fullerton Whitman, Yma Sumac, and Catholic hymnody were just a few that came up. Observing their audience gives them insight about the effect of each song—something they considered while arranging the album. Its arc is marked by soft, sometimes sudden oscillations between cacophony and euphony, day and night (listen for insects), and from sexual, visceral entanglements to more ephemeral, celestial ones. Front to back, it arouses expansion, unraveling. Of lightning, Vicki Kirby writes: “quite curious initiation rites precede these electrical encounters. An intriguing communication, a sort of stuttering chatter between the ground and the sky, appears to anticipate the actual stroke.” By all accounts, something similar seems to happen at Joyful Joyful shows, between those on the stage and those off it, between what’s earthly and what’s beyond. “A lightning bolt is not a straightforward resolution of the buildup of a charge difference between the earth and a cloud … there is, as it were, some kind of nonlocal communication effected between the two,” writes Karen Barad, extrapolating on Kirby’s thought. Cormac acknowledges that while they and Dave play a role in this mysterious charge that comes about, they’re not solely responsible. However ineffable it may be, it’s undoubtedly a form of communion—and a sensuously shocking one at that

Rarely do two types of music meet on a level where they threaten to cancel each other out - let alone create something even more meaningful in their mutual vanishing. But the music created within the seminal Murder Ballads (Drift) by Martyn Bates (Eyeless in Gaza, & parallel solo career) and Mick Harris (Napalm Death, Lull, Painkiller, Scorn) creates just such a world. Murder Ballads (Drift) evolves Martyn Bates vocalisations / storytelling song-voices, by turns expressed as labyrinthine layers, calls and responses, muted and distant echoes, sung whispers and counter-melodies, ultimately resulting in a mesmeric conversation of musical inferences and correspondences. Murder Ballads (Drift) created the post-isolationist frame of reference, innovating and extemporising into a truly original dazzlingly unique form.

Mick Harris traffics in the isolationist ambience of Lull, while Martyn Bates is the emotive voice of literate cult-pop duo Eyeless in Gaza. The unlikely pair - one given to terminally frigid drone, the other to impassioned, bittersweet voicings - finds common ground in folk music's most macabre tradition, the murder ballad. These ghoulish parables are awash in blood and tears, the strands of love, hate, birth, death, sin, and salvation entwined within like the roots of an ancient tree. Mothers callously kill their children; suitors slay their maidens without remorse; and fate exacts its cruel price from all.

The archaic murder ballads that leak from Bates' vocal cords are intensely sad and carnal. They tend to leap off cliffs of hollow effects or drone darkly, offering neither a robust delivery nor an element of irony to take the edge off. The archetypal characters that live and die in them give life's full tragedy back to Harris' electronically numbed "post-isolationist" dreaming.

Drift (originally released in 1994) plays out an unbreakable and timeless cycle of bloody folklore (people) and hypnotic soundscapes (the god who watches). The effect is chilling yet engrossing. Where most ambient music has barely enough courage to ring the doorbell and run, Murder Ballads slips through the cracks of the unconscious and does its work with remarkable ease.

All the more reason to listen thoughtfully.

In 2021 - re-emerging nearly twenty years after its initial inception, and first time on vinyl - somewhat surprisingly, Murder Ballads (Drift) still remains/exists in an area overlooked by other artists, an area that truly still remains the sole province of M.J. Harris / Martyn Bates.

After a parentship hiatus, Richard Zepezauer´s n s y d e imprint is back to push new boundaries and save some souls.

N s y d e proudly presents a next release by Skymark. It's his second full EP on the Berlin based imprint.

His Easy Saturday Night EP includes two excellent deep house jams backed with remixes by Kevin Reynolds and Mike Huckaby. The latter was previously released as a single sided limited edition.Skymark brings a bright and sun tinged house anthem on the Instrumental version of Easy Saturday Night on the A1.

The remix is in our opinion amongst Mike Huckaby's best productions. It touches the classic soulfulness of Larry Heard-style piano chords and blissful vocals combined with clear hints of Basic Channel's eternal electrifying waves. It's a perfect testament to Mike's unparalleled knowledge and wide musical range, Not only those who knew him will feel his presence while listening to this beauty.

On Insomnia, Skymark goes even deeper into deep soul territories. Pure vibes. Reworked by Detroit DJ and producer Kevin Reynolds. Made his frst appearance on nsyde back in 2011 and here he twists the original into N s y d e was founded 2011 by Richard Zepezauer.

N S Y D E will continue to bring back the family by unifying diverse artists from all angles of the electronic music familytree. N S Y D E believes in the political power of art, it brings together people.

N S Y D E does not believe in the power of political marketing of art, it divides people from each other. House Nation still under one Groove.

Early DJ support by : Antal (Rushhour), XDB, Laurent Garnier, Steffi (Ostgut), Electric Indigo, Dan Curtin etc.

Rarely do two types of music meet on a level where they threaten to cancel each other out - let alone create something even more meaningful in their mutual vanishing. But the music created within the seminal Murder Ballads (Drift) by Martyn Bates (Eyeless in Gaza, & parallel solo career) and Mick Harris (Napalm Death, Lull, Painkiller, Scorn) creates just such a world. Murder Ballads (Drift) evolves Martyn Bates vocalisations / storytelling song-voices, by turns expressed as labyrinthine layers, calls and responses, muted and distant echoes, sung whispers and counter-melodies, ultimately resulting in a mesmeric conversation of musical inferences and correspondences. Murder Ballads (Drift) created the post-isolationist frame of reference, innovating and extemporising into a truly original dazzlingly unique form.

Mick Harris traffics in the isolationist ambience of Lull, while Martyn Bates is the emotive voice of literate cult-pop duo Eyeless in Gaza. The unlikely pair - one given to terminally frigid drone, the other to impassioned, bittersweet voicings - finds common ground in folk music's most macabre tradition, the murder ballad. These ghoulish parables are awash in blood and tears, the strands of love, hate, birth, death, sin, and salvation entwined within like the roots of an ancient tree. Mothers callously kill their children; suitors slay their maidens without remorse; and fate exacts its cruel price from all.

The archaic murder ballads that leak from Bates' vocal cords are intensely sad and carnal. They tend to leap off cliffs of hollow effects or drone darkly, offering neither a robust delivery nor an element of irony to take the edge off. The archetypal characters that live and die in them give life's full tragedy back to Harris' electronically numbed "post-isolationist" dreaming.

Passages (originally released in 1997) plays out an unbreakable and timeless cycle of bloody folklore (people) and hypnotic soundscapes (the god who watches). The effect is chilling yet engrossing. Where most ambient music has barely enough courage to ring the doorbell and run, Murder Ballads slips through the cracks of the unconscious and does its work with remarkable ease.

Adrian Quesada announces the release of ‘Boleros Psicodélicos’,
a sprawling and singular tribute to the golden era of balada music.
The brand-new album from the GRAMMY-nominated guitarist,
producer and Black Pumas co-founder serves as a celebration of
the super funky, slightly delirious and deeply soulful sounds that
transcended the cultural boundaries of Latin America throughout
the late 1960s and early 1970s.

Featuring vocals from Puerto Rican icon, GRAMMY-winner and
former Calle 13 member iLe, Colombian-American visionary
Gabriel Garzón-Montano, Mexican R&B star Girl Ultra, as well as
Angelica Garcia, Gaby Moreno, contributions from living legends
such as Marc Ribot and Beastie Boys musician Money Mark, and
many more, ‘Boleros Psicodélicos’ consists primarily of original
Adrian Quesada compositions, as well as covers of La Lupe’s
‘Puedes Decir De Mí’, Jeanette’s ‘El Muchacho De Los Ojos
Tristes’ and other balada classics.

All twelve tracks were produced, engineered, mixed and largely
performed by Adrian Quesada, honouring and extending the
influence of a personal obsession that he has cultivated over the
past 20 years.

Similar to his acclaimed 2018 album ‘Look At My Soul’, which
traced the deep roots and relationship between Latin and Texas
music, Adrian Quesada sees every song on ‘Boleros Psicodelicos’
as both a history lesson and a step towards a newly imagined,
more united future: “I always wanted to pay tribute to that sound
that I was already hearing in my head without realizing that people
had already done it. Balada changed the face of Latin music
forever. If something like that happened today, it would be normal
because everyone’s connected on Instagram. Think how powerful
this sound had to be for everyone to be connected through the
songs. As someone who grew up speaking two languages and
living on both sides of the border, I love how much music can
transcend barriers and boundaries. It really is a universal
language, especially back then.”

The original Not About To Die was an illegal bootleg, released at some point in the early 80s, by the dubiously named Amnesia Records. The album was made up of selections from demos recorded by the group for their second and third albums: Chairs Missing and 154. These demos had been recorded for EMI, with cassette copies circulated amongst record company employees. However, they were never intended for release. A typically shoddy cash-in, the songs on Not About To Die were taken from a second or possibly third generation cassette, with the album housed in a grainy green and red photo-copied sleeve. Compared with the high standards of production and design Wire have always been known for, it was something of an insult to band and fans alike. Now, in a classic act of Wire perversity, the group have decided to redress the balance and reclaim one of the shadier moments of its history, by giving Not About To Die its first official release on the bands own pinkflag imprint.. All the tracks have been properly remastered, with the relevant recording details in place. As for the sleeve artwork, whilst it strongly references the original, it is decidedly more artful in its execution. Not About To Die emerges as a fascinating snapshot of Wire in transition with embryonic versions of classic songs such as ‘French Film (Blurred)’, ‘Used To’ and ‘Being Sucked In Again’, that the group would develop considerably for their epochal 1978 album Chairs Missing. Later demos such as ‘Once Is Enough’, ‘On Returning’ and ‘Two People In A Room’ would surface in radically altered form on 1979’s 154. Some songs, such as ‘The Other Window’, are virtually unrecognisable from their later iterations but the biggest prizes here may well be the tracks that were omitted from Wire's later studio albums... Highlights include ‘Motive’, which has an undeniable power. Robert Grey’s drumming is crisp and minimal, and Graham Lewis’s bass runs are particularly ear-catching. Despite its distinctly un-Wire title, ‘Love Ain't Polite’ is also something of a gem. Meanwhile, the track which gives the album its title Not About To Die (officially known as ‘Stepping Off Too Quick’) possesses what Colin Newman half jokingly calls “The best intro to any song ever”. The intro is so good in fact, that it takes up a third of the song’s entire time frame. These properly mastered tracks have never been available on vinyl before, and they provide an opportunity to hear Wire at a point in their development when they were bursting with fresh ideas and a will to communicate them. This is post-punk at its very finest.

a A1 Oh No Not So [save The Bullet]



[e] A5 French Film [blurred]




[j] A10 Chairs Missing [used To]

[l] B2 Ignorance No Plea [i Should Have Known Better]


[o] B5 Stepping Off Too Quick [not About To Die]

This Ep is Out Of Romford's homage to the original Shakedown FM crew. The A side has two brand new jungle tracks that have been made with authenticity in mind. Locked In is an atmospheric jungle track that just sends people in to mad rushes when its dropped. Electric Highway is more fast paced and something to get the crowd hyped! The B side is something truly special because these are original unreleased tracks from 1994! Both are obscenely good and intense slices of proper jungle that for one reason or another were never released back in the day. Still, 1994s loss is our gain and that means we get to unleash these slices of history for you today.

Jay Cunning, Billy Bunter, the Fat Controller, Liquid, Hyper On Experience, Glowkid, Slipmatt, Dj Jedi, Dj Luna-C, Dj Brisk, Paul Bradley, Jimni Cricket, Bustin, Jimmy J, Doughboy, Lowercase, Dave Skywalker, Ponder and many others

Vector Music by Suren Seneviratne is a true homage to the Yamaha TG33, a synth that he was hoping to keep forever, or at least a very long time until Covid-19 struck.

During the early months of 2020, Suren, like many other artists, went without work and was forced to sell surplus belongings to help subsidise food, rent and other necessities. Some sneakers and clothes went first but he avoided considering his music gear for as long as possible. As the pandemic continued to cause havoc throughout the year, selling gear was inevitable. The rare Yamaha TG-33 programmable synthesizer module was next.

By bittersweet chance, this was the perfect opportunity to make use of this unsung synthesizer one last time, and to make it count. The synth sold via Twitter and Suren suddenly had a deadline in which to make the most of it in the two days before it would be gone forever and so he decided to record a body of work using only the TG33, to shine a spotlight on its quirks and idiosyncrasies and give it the attention it deserved. This ultimatum proved to be really fruitful and resulted in the recordings that form the eight tracks on this album “Vector Music”; a raw and intimate portrayal of a forgotten digital instrument from the 1990s. The broader collective sentiment of loss, anxiety and seasonal depression during the thick of the pandemic mixed with feelings of uncertainty, distress and fear binded throughout the recording process and became sewn into the very fabric of the music.

The song titles are taken from various stages of sleep: the once instinctive process which, since 2020, was radically altered and experienced a new for millions of people around the globe due to the phenomena known as Pandemic Dreams.

Composed and produced by Suren Seneviratne
Mastered by Luca Sammartin
Original artwork and layout by Marco Ciceri

Following years of international touring and a lengthy list of critically-acclaimed collaborations with Brian Jonestown Massacre's Anton Newcombe in recent years (most recently the duo's self-titled 2018 LP), the new album will be Parks' first full-length solo offering since her debut, 'Blood Hot', was released back in 2013 on Alan McGee's 359 Music label. "In my mind, this album is like hopscotch", Parks says: "These songs were pieced together over time in London, Toronto and Los Angeles with friends and family between August 2019 and March 2021. So many other versions of these songs exist. The recording and final completion of this album took over two years and wow - the lesson I have learned the most is that words are spells. If I didn't know it before, I know it now for sure. I only want to put good out into the universe." A growing disillusionment with the state of the world paired with an injury that stopped Parks from being able to play guitar and piano for months meant the album was nearly shelved. "I really felt discouraged to complete this album", she recalls: "I stopped listening to music for honestly about a year altogether and turned to painting instead. I really had to convince myself again that it's important to just share whatever good we can - having faith in ourselves to know that our lights can shine on and on through other people and for other people. The thought of anyone not sharing their art or being shy of anything they create seems like a real tragedy to me. Even if it's not perfect, you're capturing a moment." Recorded over a two year period but with songs, lyrics and ideas dating back over a decade in some form, 'And Those Who Were Seen Dancing' is an album full of such moments, people and places. Col LP is on 180g ultra-clear vinyl, standard sleeve.

Following years of international touring and a lengthy list of critically-acclaimed collaborations with Brian Jonestown Massacre's Anton Newcombe in recent years (most recently the duo's self-titled 2018 LP), the new album will be Parks' first full-length solo offering since her debut, 'Blood Hot', was released back in 2013 on Alan McGee's 359 Music label. "In my mind, this album is like hopscotch", Parks says: "These songs were pieced together over time in London, Toronto and Los Angeles with friends and family between August 2019 and March 2021. So many other versions of these songs exist. The recording and final completion of this album took over two years and wow - the lesson I have learned the most is that words are spells. If I didn't know it before, I know it now for sure. I only want to put good out into the universe." A growing disillusionment with the state of the world paired with an injury that stopped Parks from being able to play guitar and piano for months meant the album was nearly shelved. "I really felt discouraged to complete this album", she recalls: "I stopped listening to music for honestly about a year altogether and turned to painting instead. I really had to convince myself again that it's important to just share whatever good we can - having faith in ourselves to know that our lights can shine on and on through other people and for other people. The thought of anyone not sharing their art or being shy of anything they create seems like a real tragedy to me. Even if it's not perfect, you're capturing a moment." Recorded over a two year period but with songs, lyrics and ideas dating back over a decade in some form, 'And Those Who Were Seen Dancing' is an album full of such moments, people and places. Col LP is on 180g ultra-clear vinyl, standard sleeve.

LIMITED EDITION OF 300 YELLOW VINYL COPIES

Shawn Lee follows up his country-soul solo album "Rides Again", released in 2019, with an even more personal, intriguing set of songs. The US born and London based prolific singer, songwriter, musician, producer, arranger, filmmaker and author puts the story of "Rides Yet Again" in his own words.

"When the original pandemic lockdown of 2020 ascended upon the world, I found myself like many others a prisoner in my own home. I began thinking about making new music. What do I wanna do I pondered… 'Rides Again' was a personal once in a lifetime album or was it? After some reflection, I realised there was more to this story, this sound. As I eventually crept back to my studio ducking and diving all the way, I started writing and recording new songs for Rides YET Again. The lyrics heavily informed by life during lockdown, my new dog Carla and my recent health problems. I had suffered a stroke which left me with some brain damage and I struggled with Aphasia for well over a year with extremely impaired speech. It was hard … I found solace in song and a musical context to share my ups and downs. It was a beautiful place to retreat to. John Pickup brought his brilliant orchestral treatments. Also Nichol Thomson, Tom Walsh, Mike Davis & Andy Ross blessed me with their sublime horn stylings. Suffice to say I'm really quite fond of this little record. Much love to you wherever you may be."

hree years after the release of their self-titled debut LP, Shark Toys follow it up with ten more bursts of weirdo punk. Nine originals and cover of the Mekons classic, “Where Were You.” Ever since forming in 2008, the band has developed a reputation for sharp and choppy live sets, developing a loyal following around their home town of Los Angeles and around the US, from playing shows with bands like Ty Segall, Protomartyr, Parquet Courts, Terry Malts, the Urinals and many others. This batch of tunes were taken from the same session as the recent 7” single, a split with Florida’s UV-TV, on Emotional Response, earlier this year, recorded by Dave Fox of the Traditional Fools (who also recorded Fuzz, Scraper, Vial, and Wand). "A treble fueled look at Los Angeles that certain fans of Tyvek will consume lovingly. Usually the word shambolic would be thrown in for effect when describing bands attempting to transmit a Homosexuals/Tronics/Desperate Bicycles air, but this band does not have a shambling manner to these ears. They seem very propulsive and on target, with shards of errant guitar whipped into shape by the savagery of the rhythm. … They have a driving down highways at night nihilism that is hard to conjure … with ear slicing guitar “solos” somewhere between sneaker squeak and door creak. … Super catchy bedroom punk for people that clutch the Astral Glamour box set to their hearts and know all the words to Swell Maps B-sides …"— Maximum Rock N' Roll // “Much love for this synth-punk masterpiece, highly recommended by Strangeworld for members of Ausmuteants fan club.” - Strangeworld Records, Australia

A Collection of Sounds from the Studio Eksperymentalne Polskiego Radia (1959-2001)
Art by Zofia Kulik

"Would it sound just as bad if you played it backwards?" assembles a collection of audio experiments created at the Polish Radio Experimental Studio (PRES) from 1959 to the beginning of the millennium. These exceptional works are presented alongside images from the Polish artist Zofia Kulik, whose career reached its apogee between the late 1960s and early 70s. While PRES and Kulik remain important artifacts in the recent history of the Polish avant-garde, presenting them together in one release may not seem like an obvious choice. There are, of course, some historical intersections-he most notable being a shared interest in Polish artist and architectOskar Hansen's Open Form theory. Open Form promoted a modular theory of architecture that became a tool adapted by its users and inhabitants to ??????????????..Hansen's ideas influenced Kulik's early works and also manifested in the PRES's iconic "black room", a music studio designed by Hansen, himself, which was equipped with moveable sound panels that absorbed or reflected sounds to promote a greater, creative freedom from its users. And yet, as it usually goes, the most obvious connections are usually the most deceitful. Whereas Kulik initially followed Open Form, she later turned away from it. And as for the black room-it mostly worked in theory but not in practice. What is it then that makes the two work together?

Polish Radio Experimental Studio - PRES (Polish: Studio Eksperymentalne Polskiego Radia) was an experimental music studio in Warsaw, where electronic and utility pieces were recorded. The establishment of the Polish Radio Experimental Studio was conceived by W?odzimierz Sokorski, head of the Radio and Television Committee. Between 1952 and 1956 he was a Minister of Culture, and as a strong supporter of socialist realism he fought against any manifestations of modernity in music. The Polish Radio Experimental Studio was founded on the 15th of November 1957,1 but only in the second half of the following year was it adapted for sound production.23 It operated until 2004.4
Until 1985, for 28 years the studio was headed by its founder - Józef Patkowski - musicologist, acoustician, and the chairman of the Polish Composers' Union. The second most important person in the Studio was Krzysztof Szlifirski, an electro-acoustics engineer. Before founding the studio Józef Patkowski visited similar hubs in Cologne, Paris, Gravesono and Milan.5 Though the studio was a place where autonomous electronic pieces were recorded, this wasn't its main purpose. It was launched as a space for the creation of independent compositions, sounds illustrations for radio dramas, and soundtracks for theatre, film and dance.

Astrel K is Rhys Edwards of Ulrika Spacek. Astrel K's debut single ‘You Could If You Can’ was released via Duophonic Super 45s - a label which has a history of releasing limited edition abstract releases from Stereolab, Broadcast & Yo La Tengo. 500 copies of the 7” were made, hand stamped and numbered, quickly selling out in selected record shops. Following the loss of KEN, a shared house in which Ulrika Spacek band members lived and worked from, Edwards relocated to Stockholm, Sweden where he began making music on his own: “At this time, I didn’t really know anyone in Stockholm so kinda retreated into making music just by myself. The album title definitely reflects this period; I was on my own making music and sometimes nothing would be happening and sometimes there would be little sparks of ideas that could keep me going” Edwards would spend nights writing and recording in a shared rehearsal space producing music rich with layers and texture, synonymous with the work of Ulrika Spacek but with perhaps a greater focus on the art of ‘song writing’. Tracks with verse’s and chorus’s are surrounded by instrumental interludes; inspired by old library music and compositions for film as well as being reminiscent of bands such as Broadcast. The album doesn’t sound like one made in either London or Stockholm, rather somewhere in the nether region. Written pre pandemic but mixed in the past year, the music led Edwards to finding like minded musicians from the Stockholm music scene: “Though I’m now glad I can say I wrote an album by myself, I was definitely confronted with my own musical strengths and weaknesses. Sometimes when you have an A/B decision you want some perspective and you’d be in the studio, turn around and no one is there. It really made me curious to bring in more people into the fold, not to compromise any original vision or anything, but to have other energy in the room, to exorcise out any lazy tricks I may fall into”. Stockholm musicians (including Lili Holényi, Milton Öhrström, Niklas Mellberg, Tomas Hellberg) played on the album and join Edwards in the live version of the project. UK and European live dates to follow.

Bear’s Den have today announced the release of their eagerly anticipated fourth studio album, Blue Hours.

Set for release on May 13th via Communion Records, the album sees the much-loved folk-rock duo – made up of Andrew Davie and Kevin Jones – once again team up with producer Ian Grimble on what is one of their most personal records to date.

Speaking about the new album, Davie says: “Blue Hours is a kind of imaginary space you get into at night, a place where you process difficult things or where you try to figure everything out.”

Themes on the album include both self-reflection and mental health after both struggled with the latter in recent years. “It’s the main over-arching theme with this record,” Davie explains. The group, who have worked with mental health charity CALM (Campaign Against Living Miserably) previously added: “It probably speaks to our struggles and hopefully many other people’s too. Men are not very good at talking. We’re not really taught how to – men have no idea how to talk about this stuff, certainly to each other.”

The pair describe the conceptual blue hours headspace that gives the new album its title as being “somewhere between a hotel, a mental health hospital, a bar that stays open later than anywhere else, a paradise, a dream, a nightmare and an endless sea of corridors and staircases leading you to rooms that represent memories – good, bad, happy or difficult.”

Despite the album’s challenging themes, it’s an album drenched in hope too. “We wanted this to be a celebration of music,” Jones continues. “I think that informed some of the bolder decision making on this record. At a time when music was so distant, it felt important to make an album that sounded hopeful, celebratory, ambitious and beautiful in spite of the heavy subject matter in some of the songs.” Jones adds: “It was almost like we needed to shout louder than before because we felt that there were more barriers between the audience and us. We needed something to transcend that.”

Following on from the album’s lead single, ‘All That You Are’, which was released late last year, the group have also given a further taster of what to expect from the new album with the release today of their bold, electronic-driven latest single, ‘Spiders’. Stream the new single here.

Speaking about the song, Davie says: “I started writing ‘Spiders’ around the time we left London. In my head, I thought moving would solve lots of problems, like everything will be better – almost like this Neverland vibe,” he laughs. “‘Spiders’ is a song dealing with the fact that this absolutely wasn’t the case. I had this vision in my head that I’d be at one with nature, that I’d be calmer – but all the things that were rattling around in my brain before were still there after the move. The song is about the fact you can’t run away from the things that are bothering you.”

Adding, “While making the record we wanted to get across a kind of simmering intensity with the song and the idea of someone trying to keep their shit together while wrestling with these darker thoughts and feelings. We wanted to get across a sense of bravery & triumph in saying, “sometimes I can’t pull myself out” of these difficult situations. To celebrate the difficult moments because we all have them. They are a universally shared experience even if it feels sometimes like they’re not and you’re the only one who feels them.”

Melodically, the song is a gentle Wurlitzer and guitar-driven track filled with hope thanks to the electronic elements added by long-term producer, Ian Grimble. “This song maybe sparked a lot of detail that ended up coming out on other songs on the album,” Davie says. “The sound of this felt exciting to us both,” Jones adds.

Bear’s Den have today announced the release of their eagerly anticipated fourth studio album, Blue Hours.

Set for release on May 13th via Communion Records, the album sees the much-loved folk-rock duo – made up of Andrew Davie and Kevin Jones – once again team up with producer Ian Grimble on what is one of their most personal records to date.

Speaking about the new album, Davie says: “Blue Hours is a kind of imaginary space you get into at night, a place where you process difficult things or where you try to figure everything out.”

Themes on the album include both self-reflection and mental health after both struggled with the latter in recent years. “It’s the main over-arching theme with this record,” Davie explains. The group, who have worked with mental health charity CALM (Campaign Against Living Miserably) previously added: “It probably speaks to our struggles and hopefully many other people’s too. Men are not very good at talking. We’re not really taught how to – men have no idea how to talk about this stuff, certainly to each other.”

The pair describe the conceptual blue hours headspace that gives the new album its title as being “somewhere between a hotel, a mental health hospital, a bar that stays open later than anywhere else, a paradise, a dream, a nightmare and an endless sea of corridors and staircases leading you to rooms that represent memories – good, bad, happy or difficult.”

Despite the album’s challenging themes, it’s an album drenched in hope too. “We wanted this to be a celebration of music,” Jones continues. “I think that informed some of the bolder decision making on this record. At a time when music was so distant, it felt important to make an album that sounded hopeful, celebratory, ambitious and beautiful in spite of the heavy subject matter in some of the songs.” Jones adds: “It was almost like we needed to shout louder than before because we felt that there were more barriers between the audience and us. We needed something to transcend that.”

Following on from the album’s lead single, ‘All That You Are’, which was released late last year, the group have also given a further taster of what to expect from the new album with the release today of their bold, electronic-driven latest single, ‘Spiders’. Stream the new single here.

Speaking about the song, Davie says: “I started writing ‘Spiders’ around the time we left London. In my head, I thought moving would solve lots of problems, like everything will be better – almost like this Neverland vibe,” he laughs. “‘Spiders’ is a song dealing with the fact that this absolutely wasn’t the case. I had this vision in my head that I’d be at one with nature, that I’d be calmer – but all the things that were rattling around in my brain before were still there after the move. The song is about the fact you can’t run away from the things that are bothering you.”

Adding, “While making the record we wanted to get across a kind of simmering intensity with the song and the idea of someone trying to keep their shit together while wrestling with these darker thoughts and feelings. We wanted to get across a sense of bravery & triumph in saying, “sometimes I can’t pull myself out” of these difficult situations. To celebrate the difficult moments because we all have them. They are a universally shared experience even if it feels sometimes like they’re not and you’re the only one who feels them.”

Melodically, the song is a gentle Wurlitzer and guitar-driven track filled with hope thanks to the electronic elements added by long-term producer, Ian Grimble. “This song maybe sparked a lot of detail that ended up coming out on other songs on the album,” Davie says. “The sound of this felt exciting to us both,” Jones adds.

Back in 2017, Moderat announced that they’d be taking an extended break following a final concert in front of 17.000 people in their hometown of Berlin. And now they return. MORE D4TA, the group’s fourth album, arrives more than six years after its predecessor (2016’s III). Created largely during a time when touring (and most traveling) was off the table, MORE D4TA is an album that wrestles with feelings of isolation and information overload—issues that have become particularly pronounced over the past two years. The ten songs on MORE D4TA are rooted in collaboration, but long before any of its tracks were laid down, Moderat spent months hanging out and getting musically reacquainted, indulging in extended bouts of experimentation and slowly fleshing out ideas as they dove into modular composition, field recordings and other sonic oddities.
But no matter how far the band ventures into music’s outer realms, they always wind up back in their own unique soundworld, a place where emotive pop and fluttering electronic soundscapes walk hand in hand. Many of its lyrics are rooted in Ring’s frequent trips to Berlin’s Gemäldegalerie museum (often with his infant daughter in tow), where he’d seek refuge in the great paintings of the past while worrying about the future.
What they make isn’t necessarily dance music, but it is something that shines brightest in the dark of night, the group’s rich melodies and Ring’s ethereal vocals emitting a warm, almost bioluminescent glow. After spending the better part of two decades making music together, they’ve carved out a sound and aesthetic that are all their own, and MORE D4TA showcases a group that’s creatively recharged and fully dedicated to its craft.