Suche:something weird

"The Eighties spawned many iconic films such as Footloose, Dirty Dancing, Ghostbusters, Rocky and The Breakfast Club. Despite all the different genres, they all had something in common: great film music. 80’s Movies Hits Collected is a collection of music that is inextricably linked to Eighties movie classics, including Queen, Billy Ocean, Lionel Richie, The Bangles, Duran Duran, Pat Benatar, Tina Turner and Survivor amongst many others. 80’s Movie Hits Collected is available as a limited edition of 1500 copies on translucent blue (LP1) and gold (LP2) coloured vinyl. This 2LP-set includes an insert with liner notes, photos, and credits. "

80'S Movie Hits Collected by Various Artists, released 24 May 2024, includes the following tracks: "Philip Oakey & Giorgio Moroder - Together In Electric Dreams (From Electric Dreams)", "Limahl - Never Ending Story (From The Never Ending Story)", "Los Lobos - La Bamba (From La Bamba)", "Ray Parker Jr. - Ghostbusters (From Ghostbusters)" and more.
This version of 80'S Movie Hits Collected comes as a 2xLP. This release comes with (a) Insert(s).

The vinyl is pressed as a translucent, blue disc. Another vinyl is pressed as a translucent, gold disc.

repare to embark on a transcendent auditory journey with "The Sevens” a series of four 7-inch vinyl records that unveil a treasure trove of previously unreleased tracks from A Place To Bury Strangers' critically acclaimed 6th album, "See Through You." Renowned for their visceral sonic assault and immersive live performances, A Place To Bury Strangers has cemented the end-all-be-all space for over-the-top post-punk / shoegaze destruction. With this special vinyl collection, the band invites listeners to delve deeper into their sonic universe, exploring uncharted territories and hidden gems. “You'll Be There For Me” / “When You're Gone” is the fourth release. “When looking back at the recordings that were done around the time of See Through You there were a bunch of great tracks that just captured life back then and really had something incredible going on. Even though they are a bit raw and a bit personal, I thought it would be a mistake if they didn't come out. I thought it would be best to go back to my roots and put out a series of 7"s the way A Place To Bury Strangers started. That strange weird format where the tracks each speak for themselves, no album context to muddy the water. These tracks are such a contrast to the way I am feeling now and the current songs we've been working on so slip back into this moment in time.” says APTBS’ Oliver Ackermann

A Paris resident of Minsk origin, Lina Filipovich’s ‘Music for an imaginary dancefloor’ explores the liminal space between club music and something altogether weirder, elusive, and abstract. Nervous, varied and amplified by various delays, the LP was written from improvisations on analogue synthesizers between June and December in 2022.

Atonal drones and atmospheric textures convey imagery of charcoal skies and silk tapestries; an idealised parallel world untethered from reality and bodies, towards something more ethereal – floating freely in red carpet lined corridors.

“In my previous works, I used pre-existing sounds to create new pieces. I was interested in the appropriation and decontextualization of materials from various traditions and contexts. However, in this album, I don't deconstruct; instead, I attempt to co-write with the machines, relying on their aesthetics and my imagination.”

Lina's LP trickles down the spine, pulse-raising and gooseflesh on tender skin, analogous to the aftermath of a sweaty fever dream. Speaking the language of spirits in the allure of the dark.

Press release by Asmi Shetty

Available on ltd edition Eco mix vinyl, with only 250 copies pressed. Includes download.

We’re delighted to bring you the latest full length from London psych heads The Confederate Dead.

‘As an artist, one of the most extraordinary gifts is the ability to convert life's experiences and emotions into music, transmuting pain into beauty, tragedy into art. With our latest album, 'Flamingo', we embarked on this creative journey. The inception of this project dates back to 2022, a year marked by a period of separation that was both challenging and transformative. 'Flamingo' is not just an album; it is a voyage through the labyrinth of heartache and healing. Each track resonates with the overarching theme of the album, yet each presents a unique interpretation of it. Every song echoes the same meaning, the same core narrative, but from a different emotional lens.’ Butchy Davy (The Confederate Dead)

‘“Flamingo by London’s psychedelic indie band The Confederate Dead flows by like a strange dream. Each song flows differently, shifting the dreamy images into another direction. Thoughts of The Black Angels, the Fuzz Club catalogue and genres from shoegaze to garage pop and back to good old psych rock fight a confusing fight for my attention. In the end it appears that this struggle will never truly be decided. The Confederate Dead is their own beast, and a great one at that.

Theirs is a sound that oozes confidence and grandeur, presented like a big name would. and there is no reason why The Confederate Dead would not dream big, they have the chops, the songs, the looks, the only thing standing in the way of moving up might be their dark brooding undertones and their refusal to do a cool thing twice.

Because the most powerful thing about Flamingo is its versatility. The album is like a box of assorted chocolates, the one you can’t get enough of because each song is delicious and sweet in its own way. So, indulge yourself, have a chocolate, or ten…before you know it the album is over, and you’ll press play again.’

@weirdoshrineblog 2023.

Introducing "The Sevens” - A Sonic Revelation from A Place To Bury Strangers Prepare to embark on a transcendent auditory journey with "The Sevens” a series of four 7-inch vinyl records that unveil a treasure trove of previously unreleased tracks from A Place To Bury Strangers' critically acclaimed 6th album, "See Through You."

Renowned for their visceral sonic assault and immersive live performances, A Place To Bury Strangers has cemented the end-all-be-all space for over-the-top post-punk / shoegaze destruction. With this special vinyl collection, the band invites listeners to delve deeper into their sonic universe, exploring uncharted territories and hidden gems. Don't Turn The Radio/This Is All For You is the third release coming April 19.

"When looking back at the recordings that were done around the time of See Through You there were a bunch of great tracks that just captured life back then and really had something incredible going on. Even though they are a bit raw and a bit personal, I thought it would be a mistake if they didn't come out. I thought it would be best to go back to my roots and put out a series of 7"s the way A Place To Bury Strangers started. That strange weird format where the tracks each speak for themselves, no album context to muddy the water. These tracks are such a contrast to the way I am feeling now and the current songs we've been working on so slip back into this moment in time.” says APTBS’ Oliver Ackermann.

With time, we come to understand the way the joy of connection is mirrored by the void of loss, how the constancy of love is matched only by the impermanence of life, the simple idea that we could not create light if we did not risk the dark - we'd never need to. So it is with METZ, a band once known for blowing out eardrums with songs of joyous rage who have, over their past few records, begun exploring ways to turn abrasiveness into atmospherics, the evolution of their sound not only a reflection of the maturing of the band themselves but also of a changed world that demands nuance and compassion to comprehend and to survive. It was a journey already underway on 2020's Atlas Vending, but one that reaches new heights on Up On Gravity Hill, where the Canadian trio creates a kaleidoscopic sonic world as tender as it is dark, aided once again by engineer Seth Manchester (Mdou Moctar, Lingua Ignota, Battles, The Body). Deep, detailed, and unyieldingly personal, it is not only METZ's most powerful record to date but also their most beautiful. Still three punks from Ontario at heart, guitarist and vocalist Alex Edkins, drummer Hayden Menzies, and bassist Chris Slorach waste no time as opener "No Reservation/Love Comes Crashing" sweeps in like a wave, sonically and thematically setting the scene for the record to come. A dynamic song about feeling suspended in stasis, layers of dissonance melt into a restlessly heady outro marked by escalating crescendos of shimmering noise that reach for the stars - and is that a violin quivering brightly beneath those elegant swells of guitar, those charging drum fills, those intricate bass lines? It is indeed, courtesy of composer Owen Pallett; his presence an immediate indicator that METZ are thinking more cinematically than ever before. The change is partially inspired by Edkins' work as a scorer for film and television and his pop-leaning solo project, Weird Nightmare, where, he says, he learned to write more intuitively, letting his emotions lead the way. But make no mistake: Up On Gravity Hill is a total band effort, the work of three musicians who have been playing together for over a decade, with all the trust that entails. For those who believe in the power of the rock band to exemplify the highest resonance of human connection, there is much on Up On Gravity Hill to lift the spirit, a puzzle worth repeated listening to unlock or just to get lost in again and again. Rather than the music being flattened into a single plane, the band explores "the space above the cymbals," resulting in some of the most spacious, sympathetic, and accessible songs - could we call them pop? - of their career. If this seems contradictory, well, METZ has always been something of a contradiction. "We've never been heavy enough for metal or hardcore purists, but we're way too heavy for indie rock. We just don't have a lane - and that's okay. We exist outside the lines of delineation. I think this record is even more like that," says Edkins.

The norwegian group Boastein was founded by Are Storstein and Øistein Boassen in 1970. Boastein's debut album "Jeg har min egen luke" became something of a holy grail within alternative music in Norway. This is DIY rock from the anarchist basement with a sound and lyrics that was quite groundbraking when it came out. It was also one of the very first independent releases in Norway. The album can be described as free and progressive underground rock filled with dark humor, political sting and a good amount of weirdness. The record was first released in 399 copies in 1977.

Introducing "The Sevens” - A Sonic Revelation from A Place To Bury Strangers Prepare to embark on a transcendent auditory journey with "The Sevens” a series of four 7-inch vinyl records that unveil a treasure trove of previously unreleased tracks from A Place To Bury Strangers' critically acclaimed 6th album, "See Through You." Renowned for their visceral sonic assault and immersive live performances, A Place To Bury Strangers has cemented the end-all-be-all space for over-the-top post-punk / shoegaze destruction. With this special vinyl collection, the band invites listeners to delve deeper into their sonic universe, exploring uncharted territories and hidden gems. 'Chasing Colors/I Can Never Be As Great As You Are' is the second release coming March 22. "When looking back at the recordings that were done around the time of See Through You there were a bunch of great tracks that just captured life back then and really had something incredible going on. Even though they are a bit raw and a bit personal, I thought it would be a mistake if they didn't come out. I thought it would be best to go back to my roots and put out a series of 7"s the way A Place To Bury Strangers started. That strange weird format where the tracks each speak for themselves, no album context to muddy the water. These tracks are such a contrast to the way I am feeling now and the current songs we've been working on so slip back into this moment in time.” says APTBS’ Oliver Ackermann. The vinyl is pressed as a white disc.

In 2014, Wye Oak released Shriek, their fourth album. It was a necessary departure for Jenn Wasner and Andy Stack, who found themselves on uncertain ground after two years of constant touring for 2011's Civilian, living on opposite ends of the country and trying to revitalize their creative partnership. Wasner set aside her guitar for a bass. Stack took on the band's upper register, playing syncopated, meditative keyboard parts that interacted with Wasner's voice, which was newly freed from its call-and-response relationship to the guitar_what had been, until then, a signature of Wye Oak's sound. "This idea and the ensuing creative reworking of our band did what it was meant to do," Wasner writes in 2024. "It ended a long, painful period of creative stagnancy and reconnected me with the joy of making music." During that period, Wasner and Stack were introduced to William Brittelle, the Brooklyn-based composer whose 2019 LP Spiritual America featured Wye Oak, the Metropolis Ensemble, and the Brooklyn Youth Chorus. His orchestral reimaginings of five songs from Shriek (Shriek: Variations, if you will) are the centerpiece of this package, which serves not only to mark the tenth anniversary of a great album, but to demonstrate the richness of Wye Oak's compositions. Stack says of Shriek: Variations: "It's like looking at the songs in a funhouse mirror. The songs on Shriek can be stripped down or embellished_this is maximal embellishment. William took the album and blew it to smithereens, looking at it in a weird, prismatic way." Through Brittelle, Wasner and Stack found themselves at the intersection of classical, experimental, and pop music. Further collaborations, like the Brooklyn Youth Chorus- featuring No Horizon and Paul and Michi Wiancko's string arrangements on "My Signal" from The Louder I Call, The Faster It Runs, followed, as this connection fundamentally changed the way Wye Oak approached making records, incorporating an entirely new palette of sound into their work. That shift began here. Shriek: Variations may feel like a startling take on the material, something like light bursting into a room through drawn curtains, but Brittelle's arrangements are largely original to his first collaborations with Wye Oak a decade ago, suggesting that his maximalist arrangements have lived comfortably within the framework of Shriek the whole time, waiting for the right moment to emerge. It's a fitting reintroduction to the album, which upon its initial release was pigeonholed into the easy one-note talking point of being the "no-guitar" record. But even so, as that happened, Shriek quietly started to become a staple among Wye Oak's core fans. Here, with help from Brittelle's expansive compositions, the release draws attention back to the songwriting_how, regardless of the instrumentation, Wasner and Stack's uncanny musicwriting partnership at the core is what makes both Shriek and Wye Oak excellent. Joined by the Metropolis Ensemble, Paul Wiancko, and Lizzie Burns, Wye Oak turn songs like "Logic of Color" inside out, reaching towards a kind of pastoral bombast, Brittelle's aesthetic with Wasner and Stack as an anchor. In fact, "Logic of Color" in this iteration takes that "no-guitar" script and flips it, with Wasner playing the synthesizer ostinato on acoustic guitar at its center. If Shriek is a record that charts the depths of solemnity and inner space, its Variations, roiling in a sea of winds, brass, and strings, recolors that space and complicates it, a gorgeous, unexpected response to the original's siren call.

Mr Lee Perry who in no uncertain terms defines the words musical genius, recorded some of the most inspiring, soulful, funny and weird / wild reggae music ever put down on tape. Working through all the manifestations of reggae from Ska to Roots and Dub, where his ground breaking 1973 ‘Blackboard Jungle’ LP, set the standards, he was an innovator. If this was not enough his recordings of THE WAILERS, many believe to be their finest work. Born Rainford Hugh Perry, 28 March 1936, Hanover, Jamaica. He began his career at the grand age of 16, working for Clement ‘Coxone’ Dodd’s sound system, rising quickly to the position of record scout and organising recording sessions during his 3 year period 1963-1966. Restlessness and unsatisfied with credit he felt due to him he moved on to work with Producers J.J. Johnson and Clancy Eccles, the later of which would help him set up his ‘Upsetter’ label in 1968,which would see his first of many recordings telling the injustices done to him by previous employees. ‘The Upsetter’ track itself pointed at Mr Dodd but reflected back to Perry when he inherited it as a nick name along side many others during the coarse of his career, including ‘Scratch’, again taken from one of his recordings ‘Chicken Scratch’ recorded in 1965/1966. Perry’s work in 1968 with producer Joe Gibbs was fruitful and resulted in many successfulreleases, but again lack of credit and itchy feet, it was time to move on. But not without leaving his trademark recording summing up his feelings at the time ‘People Funny Boy’ this time aimed at Mr Gibbs. Still not having a studio of his own, Perry recorded at the various Kingston establishments of the time, Randy’s Studio 17 on North Parade, Dynamics on Bell Road and Harry J’s on Roosevelt Avenue where the bulk of the aforementioned recordings with The Wailers were carried out. During this time and the years that followed Perry has built up a vast catalogue of backing tracks / instrumentals, he had cut over a 100 releases on his ‘Upsetter’ label alone. A library of music that he has an uncanny knack of reutilising to work into something new when put against a new song / singer. This collection of rare and unreleased dubs stems from his 1971-1974 period. We can here on tracks like ‘Perry’s Jump Up’ Ska-ish up tempo chopping guitar cuts leading through to organ laden tracks like ‘Roots Rock Dub’. The sound moving to a slowed down rhythm on ‘Perry in Dub’ which would predominate his sound, when in mid 1974 he’d open his own studio at his home in the Washington Gardens district of Kingston. We hope this selection of lost treasures will add to the jigsaw that makes Mr Perry’s output now spanning over 5 decades so remarkable.
RESPECT.... JAH FLOYD.

Psychedelic Anxiety, as a mood, goes something like this: overwhelming, existential, vertigoic, arising when we stare into the void. This metaphysical unease also serves as the title for Brooklyn-based musician Frances Chang’s second album, and as a feeling it’s present throughout, charged by all things occultish. Recorded by Chang and engineer Andrea Schiavelli, featuring a cast of revered NYC DIY players, including Schiavelli (Eyes of Love) and Liza Winter (Birthing Hips), Psychedelic Anxiety relishes in the refining of aesthetic, in the electricity of improvisation, in balancing bleakness with humor. It embodies an idiosyncratic genre Chang calls slacker prog — offbeat, but brimming with spiritual and emotional resonance. The record infuses artifacts of the mundane with otherworldliness— even the love songs live more in the realm of fantasy (or horror) than the romantic. The psychic twin and mirror image of Chang’s 2022 debut full-length Support Your Local Nihilist, Psychedelic Anxiety by comparison is less urgent, leaving space for more nuance and storytelling. Together, these albums represent a new cycle of creativity for Chang, a reset to zero. “Eye Land,” captures Chang on a tour around the Irish and English countryside, in a moment of major life change. “Lying around your spare room,” she sings, “Sky is cloudy here in June.” Around her, guitar sputters and stops. Vocals branch off like vines on the side of an old house. It is a profoundly lovely song, a freaky miniature in the way that a Broadcast song is a freaky miniature. “Darkside” opens up with a particularly memorable narrative moment. “Last night I saw Parasite,” sings Chang, describing how she saw it alone, how regular life that week was acute, weird, intense. How she found comfort in resignation. After all: Psychedelic Anxiety is a serene, bizarre record full of alien sounds and big introspection.

Sasu Ripatti's complete "Dancefloor Classics" series. Music for imaginary dancefloors, released on Ripatti's own label Rajaton.

”Look up, into the light” she said, while the camera shutter clicked. ”Like this? Does it look holy?” His neck felt stiff. Her reply: ”Yes, just like that. What do you mean holy? Like religious? ”No, more like trying to look very far, somewhere beyond what we can see.” ”Okay, stand still, I’m going to come close to you now. The light hits your face great.” click, click, click.
He noticed her fingernails. They were not polished. Natural. Even somewhat rugged, as if something wore out the fingers slightly. What had these hands held besides the camera? What made the edges of her fingernails drift off?
He thought it’s weird to look straight into the camera. The photographer had closed her left eye, the one not looking into the lens. Then it opened, she looked up, perusing the surroundings, then she closed her eye again, then looked up, closed, looking up, very quickly. It all seemed very professional. Maybe she calculated the light, making sure it’s close to perfect. ”What will these photos look like?” – the thought popped into his head briefly. It was liberating to think it wouldn’t matter.
”What’s that song playing?” he asked. ”Wait a sec, Ol’ Dirty Bastard?” she replied. ”Oh yeah, right. But the sample?” ”Hey, could you look up again, like that. No, lower.”
New directions: ”Look out from the window, turn left.” ”My left or yours?” ”Yours, I always try to think from the direction of my model.” How professional! This is a good shoot, so natural. Should I worry about how the photos look like? No, I don’t want to. His thoughts bounced around. What would the story be like? It’s a big newspaper, everyone will read it. Maybe someone drinks coffee and eats a stroopwafel while they do it. Will they place the waffle on top of the mug for a brief while, so that it gets hot and the syrup melts a little? Then it feels wet, and you can bend the cookie.
She broke his train of thought off midway through: ”Now turn right, but look left, and slightly up, but don’t turn your face right.” ”Umm, like this? Sounds like a set of pilates instructions.” she laughed ”You do pilates?” ”Yeah, it’s hard sometimes. Have you tried?” ”No”, she said. ”I’m not good for sports that are done in groups.” ”Yeah, but in pilates you can just be inside your mind, drowning in your private thoughts.”
”What are you thinking in pilates?” she asked, taking more photos. ”Well, mostly just which way is right. And which left.” click, click.

Q&A with Sasu Ripatti:

1) Tell us something about the EP series ”Dancefloor Classics”, what’s the idea and what can we expect?

I’ve been slowly writing these sort of dance music pieces and finally curated them together for a conceptual release. I like to create music for a dancefloor that exists only in my imagination and doesn’t try to suck up to the standardized reality.

2) Your vinyl format is 10” which is quite special (as opposed to LP / 12”). Why did you choose it?

It’s my favourite format, absolutely. The size is perfect, and you can make it sound really good @ 45 rpm. And you still can make great artwork.

3) You seem interested in sampling/repurposing, what does it mean to you as an artist to approach something already existing from a new angle? How does the source material inform you about the approach to take?

I guess i could flip it around and just say I’ve outgrown synths or electronic sounds to a great extend, and having gotten rid off all my synths already good while ago I’ve used samples as my main source material a lot. It’s obvious on this series that i’ve sampled existing music, but I also sample instruments and things in the studio and resample my own library that I have built over the years, it’s quite large. To me the end result matters, not so much how I get there. Once I have something on my keyboard and play around, it’s all an instrument, though with sampling other music it becomes a really interesting and complex one as you’re possibly playing rhythm, but also harmonic content and maybe hooks or whatever, all at once.
I never sample premeditadedly, like listening to records and looking for that mindblowing 3 sec part. I just throw the cards in the air and see what lands where, just full intuition and hopefully zero mind involved, playing tons of stuff, trying things, just recording hours of stuff. Then comes the interesting part to listen to hours of mostly crazy stuff and finding that mindblowing 3 sec part.

4) What is your relationship with the dancefloor (conceptually and/or in experiences / as a performer)?

Very complicated. I have never really felt comfortable on a dancefloor but have always wanted to. There’s something in club music, in theory, that really speaks to me. It has never really materialized for me – speaking mainly from a performer’s point of view who goes to check on a dancefloor for a moment after a concert. I never have DJ’d or felt much interest towards it. But again, I love the idea and concept of DJing. As well as producing music for imaginary DJs. Lately, as in the past 10+ years, I haven’t even performed in any sort of club spaces. So my relationship to the dancefloor is quite removed and reduced, but there’s quite a bit of passion and interest left.

All tracks composed and produced by Sasu Ripatti.
Artwork & photography by Marc Hohmann.
Mastering by Stephan Mathieu for Schwebung Mastering.
Vinyl cut by SST Brueggemann.
Publishing by WARP Music Ltd.

David Tattersall, the Wave Pictures guitarist and frontman releases a solo album of interpretations of John Fahey tunes, recorded live in the studio. "I have been a fan of John Fahey's music since I was very young; it has always been with me and I can't remember a time when I wasn't affected by it. It is weird music, and very good. Of course, Fahey is an important cult figure in the history of music: as the first man to find a language for steel string guitar that can stand proudly alongside the established tradition of nylon string classical guitar; as one of many men who rediscovered obscure old blues musicians and recorded them for a new generation in the 1960s; as one uniquely able to reconcile 20th century avant-garde music with folk tradition; as an early indie-label DIY pioneer. For me personally, Fahey went beyond technique, and to some extent beyond historical or intellectual justifications for his work. He explored his emotions through his instrument of choice, and in so doing made the case for the guitar as the ultimate conduit for emotional expression. While there are many imitators who try to play ''like Fahey'', I avoided using his fingerpicking style or sense of rhythm, and tried instead to use his music to explore my own emotions, my own dreams and memories. I was more interested in the lyrical and expressive aspects of Fahey's music than in the techniques of it. I tried to find myself within his compositions and without composing anything I feel that I have managed to make a David Tattersall record that says as much about me as any of the many albums that I have written. John Fahey's beautiful discography shows that the guitar can carry as much mystery and soul as the human voice, and simply put, I wanted in on a little of this action. This is my second all-instrumental solo acoustic album, and where this differs from my first attempt, Little Martha, is that here I improvised freely. I used Fahey's originals only as guides. I'm not sure what I was looking for, perhaps something beyond explanation, but I tried to be as free as possible, and I am delighted by the spontaneous results. Hopefully, they will make the listener feel happy and dreamy, just like the effect that Fahey's many albums have on me. One of the most important things that Fahey ever said was his advice to guitarists to try to feel the emotions that each chord they play on a guitar brings forth. He is telling guitarists to not only play the guitar, but to let the guitar play them. I did my best to follow this advice. I hope you enjoy listening to the album, that it brings you some dreamy moments, and that it sends you back to happily explore the originals. I had a great time recording it. Naturally, I can't put the experience adequately into words but that's the whole point. I think Fahey was a genius of the kind that creates a whole genre single-handedly. There could be thousands, millions, of reinterpretations of his compositions. In fact, there probably already are. And long may this continue. All tracks were recorded live with no tampering."

David Tattersall, the Wave Pictures guitarist and frontman releases a solo album of interpretations of John Fahey tunes, recorded live in the studio. "I have been a fan of John Fahey's music since I was very young; it has always been with me and I can't remember a time when I wasn't affected by it. It is weird music, and very good. Of course, Fahey is an important cult figure in the history of music: as the first man to find a language for steel string guitar that can stand proudly alongside the established tradition of nylon string classical guitar; as one of many men who rediscovered obscure old blues musicians and recorded them for a new generation in the 1960s; as one uniquely able to reconcile 20th century avant-garde music with folk tradition; as an early indie-label DIY pioneer. For me personally, Fahey went beyond technique, and to some extent beyond historical or intellectual justifications for his work. He explored his emotions through his instrument of choice, and in so doing made the case for the guitar as the ultimate conduit for emotional expression. While there are many imitators who try to play ''like Fahey'', I avoided using his fingerpicking style or sense of rhythm, and tried instead to use his music to explore my own emotions, my own dreams and memories. I was more interested in the lyrical and expressive aspects of Fahey's music than in the techniques of it. I tried to find myself within his compositions and without composing anything I feel that I have managed to make a David Tattersall record that says as much about me as any of the many albums that I have written. John Fahey's beautiful discography shows that the guitar can carry as much mystery and soul as the human voice, and simply put, I wanted in on a little of this action. This is my second all-instrumental solo acoustic album, and where this differs from my first attempt, Little Martha, is that here I improvised freely. I used Fahey's originals only as guides. I'm not sure what I was looking for, perhaps something beyond explanation, but I tried to be as free as possible, and I am delighted by the spontaneous results. Hopefully, they will make the listener feel happy and dreamy, just like the effect that Fahey's many albums have on me. One of the most important things that Fahey ever said was his advice to guitarists to try to feel the emotions that each chord they play on a guitar brings forth. He is telling guitarists to not only play the guitar, but to let the guitar play them. I did my best to follow this advice. I think Fahey was a genius of the kind that creates a whole genre single-handedly. There could be thousands, millions, of reinterpretations of his compositions. In fact, there probably already are. And long may this continue. All tracks were recorded live with no tampering

For the better part of the last 15 years, the duo of Max Dameron (guit/vox) and Sam Ford (drums/vox) have been too weird and too wild for this lame-ass planet. After enjoying vagabond stints living in Portland, Los Angeles, and Brooklyn, they now call Detroit home. Here they rebuild, out of the scraps and wreckage of the 21st century, something which casts aside any rules or adherence to banal tropes. Specializing in the unexpected, Max and Sam have wrought an individual sound that’s as much post-Melvins sludge punk as it is futurist prog metal. Their forthcoming self-titled debut, recorded in 2022 at High-Bias in Detroit, puts on display the fruits of their metamorphosis. From the soaring triumphal fuzz of “Uncanny Valley” or the sweep and thrust of “House of Butterflies” their craft is precise, they’re just making up their own shapes to sculpt. Times change and artists mature: now under the name PSYCHIC TRASH, Ford and Dameron come to Riding Easy Records as veterans turning a fresh page, reinvigorated at the prospect of forging a new path and the beneficiaries of about a decade and a half’s slog through the underground. Psychic Trash’s self-titled debut is unmistakably uncompromising, a little theatrical, intermittently manic, and deceptively broad in style for just how much punk rests beneath.

Since their formation in 1977 Mark Perry’s group Alternative TV have moved far away from their more direct punk rock beginnings into all manner of other areas of music that have sometimes themselves drawn from improvisation, free jazz, industrial and electronic music. On Direct Action, Alternative TV’s first studio album since Opposing Forces in 2015, we are presented with six instrumental tracks which steadily rip apart all expectations as they shed all allusions to rock music in favour of the kinda sonic mutilations that once helped 1979’s classic (and Nurse With Wound list endorsed) Vibing Up the Senile Man (Part One) stumble into weird and wonderful shapes. Direct Action marries guttural electronics to sounds most artists would consign to the bin and through Perry’s long perfected mastery of pulling together disparate strands to create something entirely alchemical and invigorating delivers a unique stamp to the ATV story. With the help of longtime collaborator Dave Morgan alongside the input of Gareth Matthews, Ruth Tidmarsh and Cos Chapman, abstract patterns of dishevelled sound rub alongside occasional percussion, disembodied plasma guitar strums and even what seems like an oboe groaning in a murky corner. Similar to its distant cousin of Vibing…, everything adds up to a whole that’s demanding yet completely rewarding as every listen prises open the dark scab of contemporary malaise to reveal something fresh. The front cover’s homage to an incredible album by a pioneering electronic group we are not going to name should in itself point to the unpredictable nature of the music here. If you are savvy enough to get that reference, then you’re on the right path to understanding where Direct Action resides. Easy listening this ain’t. Limited to 600

A national musical treasure" The Guardian // Steven Adams, formerly of The Broken Family Band releases new album DROPS on Fika Recordings in November 2023. Since calling time on TBFB at the height of their success, Adams has released half a dozen albums under various names (Singing Adams, Steven James Adams, Steven Adams & The French Drops), his witty, incisive lyrics and melodic sensibilities taking in DIY indie rock, folky introspection, and off-kilter pop hooks. Originally from South Wales, Adams now lives in East London. “Every record I’ve made has been in a hurry of some sort” says Adams of his new album, “and with this one I took my time”. DROPS is the first album to be credited to him as a solo artist since 2016’s Old Magick, his first new music since 2020, and his noisiest record to date. Armed with a new batch of material, he began by upping sticks to the Welsh countryside to experiment with drummer Daniel Fordham and bassist David Stewart - both formerly of psych oddballs The Drink. The trio then took the songs to Big Jelly, a converted chapel on the south coast, with co-producer Simon Trought (Comet Gain, Johnny Flynn, The Wave Pictures) to lay down the basic tracks for DROPS. Eschewing a full band set up (“I wanted to concentrate on one thing at a time”), recording sessions in East London followed with Laurie Earle (Absentee) on guitar and Michael Wood (Hayman Kupa Band, Michaelmas) on keyboards. Adams then took the recordings home and to the French countryside, to work alone. “I finally got my head around home recording in 2020, while things were a bit quiet. Once I worked out how to record things I realised I didn’t have to think about time. I could let the songs evolve and change once we had the basic tracks down. After a while I started to think of them as paintings; trying something one morning, painting over it in the afternoon and attempting something completely different… it was about enjoying the process, making some bangers, playing around... and giving Simon the producer a mess to sort out when it came to mixing the record". Whenever Tom from Fika Recordings checked in to see how the album was progressing Adams would reply, “it’s taking ages but it’ll sound like it was recorded in an afternoon”. The result is a dynamic and spirited collection of songs, with Adams's love of 90/00s US underground rock (Pavement's Bob Nastanovich is a fan) to the fore. DROPS is a sonically compelling piece of work: from bleak/exultant opener Out to Sea and the motorik Living in the Local Void to the weirdly funereal Fascists (where Adams imagines the “little skip in our steps” that we’ll have upon outliving some baddies), and Day Trip's psychedelia in miniature. There are also moments of tenderness: the avalanche of empathy on closing track Cheap Wine Sad Face, and I Tried to Keep it Light’s “worse things could happen… I don’t know how, but give me time”. Adams says: “I'm preoccupied by the passing of time and the way it affects how we feel. This record is about time and bewilderment and trying to make sense of things". “…astonishing tenderness in its simplicity … brilliant lyrics.” Q Magazine //“…the tunes are instant and uplifting, but the real wallop comes from the lyrical imagery.” The Guardian // “…barbed modern life chronicles.”

Bathed in a green haze, the crowd oozed to the mutant rock and roll roaring from the basement's dusty depths — everything and everyone was sweaty and sticky. But as Speedy Ortiz crammed into the back corner, their grins just inches away from ours, D.C.’s Dougout became a moshed-and-sloshed sauna of 20-somethings delirious on rock euphoria.

After spending much of the new millennium bored out of my skull by network soap indie, Speedy Ortiz — not to mention its pals in Pile, Ovlov, Grass is Green and the rest of New England’s burgeoning basement scene — was rock's wild howl. The songs were unpredictable, yet weirdly memorable, swaggering with a winky and wry sense of self. Riffs would twist with a topsy tenderness, then slam a ruptured discord. Sadie Dupuis' sphinxian-yet-sensitive lyrics were not only matched but accentuated by her coil-sprung vibrato. How could Speedy Ortiz not immediately become my new favorite band?

What began as a short-lived solo project recorded in Dupuis' off-hours as a rock camp counselor became a four-piece band in Northampton, Mass., by the end of 2011: Dupuis on guitar and vocals with drummer Mike Falcone, bassist Darl Ferm and guitarist Matt Robidoux. They made cool mixtapes, cracked inside jokes and gushed about teenagers that opened for them on tour. They freaked out (via LiveJournal) when they met the bassist from Polvo or Helium's Mary Timony, but also rolled their eyes at '90s indie-rock comparisons. The band's first single — the gender-bending got-laid grunge yowler "Taylor Swift'' — elicited that rare response of the simultaneous giggle and headbang. The Sports EP amped up the taut yet rubbery riffery.

Released July 9, 2013, Major Arcana is filled with wedding chapel exorcisms, oiled-down attractants and criminally twisted puny little villains — this is Dupuis' haunted lexicon as she scales the toxic Aggro Crag of a breakup. And while Dupuis wrote these songs, the band's convulsing arrangements and diverse influences sprawled the squigglier edges of feedbacked fuzz to mete out matters of the heart. Falcone — who, it's worth noting, has a knack for vocal harmony — swung as much as he smashed the drums. In easily tipoverable songs, Ferm's burly bass and percussive overdubs gave the unruly glee its momentum. Robidoux ripped skronky guitar solos and countered Dupuis' riffs with decorative splatter. Over a four-day marathon session at Sonelab in Easthampton, recording engineer Justin Pizzoferrato sparked the studio imagination of Speedy Ortiz — not only leaning into gritty tones but layer-caking dense dynamics that made these songs pop and pulverize.

For all her sweet-toothed seething, Dupuis was not easy on herself. Everyone's allowed the idiot growing pains of your 20s and the misery that follows, but I can only imagine the emotional exhaustion that playing these songs on the road, night after night, must have wrought. "But you left something on my lips: a mark so sick," she repeats over the doomy destruction that ends the album. Thinking back to the many Speedy Ortiz shows I caught in those early years, including an unofficial after-after party for my own wedding, "MKVI" often served as the noisy down-and-out closer — heads would bang in solidarity as the crowd became co-authors in the chaos, the biting phrase now a hex, Speedy Ortiz forever our coven. —Lars Gotrich

To celebrate the 10th Anniversary of Major Arcana, Speedy Ortiz release a remastered edition on Carpark Records.

In the decade or so that hard-working New York quartet Sunwatchers have operated, the group has steadily & subtly refined their sound - a brain-blasting mixture of jazz, psychedelia, krautrock, punk, noise, & Saharan blues - into something that is avant-leaning enough to appeal to the discerning jazz & experimental music fan & weird & wooly enough to get the true heads' toes tapping. "Music Is Victory Over Time" is the band's 5th album, and fourth for Chicago-based Trouble In Mind Records, seeing the long-running lineup of Peter Kerlin (bass guitar), Jim McHugh (guitars), Jason Robira (drums), and Jeff Tobias (alto saxophone and keyboards) in prime form. Album opener "World People" is a classic Sunwatchers number whose title expresses their Anarcho-Internationalist ideology (and the atypically multi-culti make up of their crowds), with an underlying melodic resonance to New Orleans funeral marches à la Albert Ayler _ a triumphant call to arms to all peoples. Live fave "Too Gary"'s gang vocal shout punctuates a motorik rager named for a phrase often uttered by a badass eight year old skateboarder McHugh knew with a speech impediment (it means "that's too scary"). "T.A.S.C." (or "Theme For Anarchist Sports Center") is inspired by Sonny Sharrock's maligned 80's output & sounds exactly like a wrathful, mutant version of a prime-time athletic show theme, replete with the requisite "sitcom ending." The sun- scorched "Foams" - a longform piece intended to depict natural stuff like tides, nightfall, and time slowly passing, ancient, peaceful and slightly gross all at once - practically jumps out of the speakers, its palpable intensity crackling in your eardrums. The title of "Tumulus" might reference an ancient burial mound, but the music itself might be the group's most high-tech song to date, complimented by an arpeggiating sequencer, three different forms of tape delay and an electric saxophone; ecstatic, fiery & deeply spiritual. "There Goes Ol' Ooze" is a smoky creeper that lets Tobias & Kerlin take a walk for a while, with respectful nods to the Stones and Steve Reich. "Song For The Gone" closes out the album, showcasing a sincerely tender moment for the gang, as an expression of love and resolve for dear friends who had recently, tragically died. Its cascading, bluesy melody attuning itself to our own collective unconscious grief. Having the distinct pleasure of being the first band to record in John Dwyer 's new LA-based recording studio Discount Mirrors, "Music Is Victory Over Time" boasts a beefed up sound. The band worked closely with in-house engineer Eric Bauer - facilitator, troubleshooter, sonic obsessive, a legendary freak and a DIY lifer. The band also had full access to the studio's epic armory of gear: amps, axes (it's Dwyer's Eddie Harris model electric sax), synths, a bass guitar once belonging to Klaus Flouride of the Dead Kennedys. Crucial for the sounds and the vibe. The album art was created by Josh MacPhee, the activist artist, author, archivist and founding member of both the radical artist collective Just Seeds and Interference Archive, a public collection of materials from social movements based in Brooklyn. MacPhee's participation in the project works as a statement of Sunwatchers' progressive utopian intentionality, and organically underscores their involvement in revolutionary projects within and without of their hometown. Listening to "Music Is Victory Over Time", Sunwatcher's rebellious spirit & unbridled enthusiasm remain fully intact, but the secret sauce is their infectious irreverence in the face of the horrors of this world. Much of our best cultural commentary is Trojan-horsed to the general public via humor & satire & the band has a knack for lacing the ridiculous with the radical. It's good to have them back. "Music Is Victory Over Time" is released worldwide digitally via most DSPs, on CD, black vinyl & a limited "Sunflare" blue/red splatter vinyl while supplies last.

In the decade or so that hard-working New York quartet Sunwatchers have operated, the group has steadily & subtly refined their sound - a brain-blasting mixture of jazz, psychedelia, krautrock, punk, noise, & Saharan blues - into something that is avant-leaning enough to appeal to the discerning jazz & experimental music fan & weird & wooly enough to get the true heads' toes tapping. "Music Is Victory Over Time" is the band's 5th album, and fourth for Chicago-based Trouble In Mind Records, seeing the long-running lineup of Peter Kerlin (bass guitar), Jim McHugh (guitars), Jason Robira (drums), and Jeff Tobias (alto saxophone and keyboards) in prime form. Album opener "World People" is a classic Sunwatchers number whose title expresses their Anarcho-Internationalist ideology (and the atypically multi-culti make up of their crowds), with an underlying melodic resonance to New Orleans funeral marches à la Albert Ayler _ a triumphant call to arms to all peoples. Live fave "Too Gary"'s gang vocal shout punctuates a motorik rager named for a phrase often uttered by a badass eight year old skateboarder McHugh knew with a speech impediment (it means "that's too scary"). "T.A.S.C." (or "Theme For Anarchist Sports Center") is inspired by Sonny Sharrock's maligned 80's output & sounds exactly like a wrathful, mutant version of a prime-time athletic show theme, replete with the requisite "sitcom ending." The sun- scorched "Foams" - a longform piece intended to depict natural stuff like tides, nightfall, and time slowly passing, ancient, peaceful and slightly gross all at once - practically jumps out of the speakers, its palpable intensity crackling in your eardrums. The title of "Tumulus" might reference an ancient burial mound, but the music itself might be the group's most high-tech song to date, complimented by an arpeggiating sequencer, three different forms of tape delay and an electric saxophone; ecstatic, fiery & deeply spiritual. "There Goes Ol' Ooze" is a smoky creeper that lets Tobias & Kerlin take a walk for a while, with respectful nods to the Stones and Steve Reich. "Song For The Gone" closes out the album, showcasing a sincerely tender moment for the gang, as an expression of love and resolve for dear friends who had recently, tragically died. Its cascading, bluesy melody attuning itself to our own collective unconscious grief. Having the distinct pleasure of being the first band to record in John Dwyer 's new LA-based recording studio Discount Mirrors, "Music Is Victory Over Time" boasts a beefed up sound. The band worked closely with in-house engineer Eric Bauer - facilitator, troubleshooter, sonic obsessive, a legendary freak and a DIY lifer. The band also had full access to the studio's epic armory of gear: amps, axes (it's Dwyer's Eddie Harris model electric sax), synths, a bass guitar once belonging to Klaus Flouride of the Dead Kennedys. Crucial for the sounds and the vibe. The album art was created by Josh MacPhee, the activist artist, author, archivist and founding member of both the radical artist collective Just Seeds and Interference Archive, a public collection of materials from social movements based in Brooklyn. MacPhee's participation in the project works as a statement of Sunwatchers' progressive utopian intentionality, and organically underscores their involvement in revolutionary projects within and without of their hometown. Listening to "Music Is Victory Over Time", Sunwatcher's rebellious spirit & unbridled enthusiasm remain fully intact, but the secret sauce is their infectious irreverence in the face of the horrors of this world. Much of our best cultural commentary is Trojan-horsed to the general public via humor & satire & the band has a knack for lacing the ridiculous with the radical. It's good to have them back. "Music Is Victory Over Time" is released worldwide digitally via most DSPs, on CD, black vinyl & a limited "Sunflare" blue/red splatter vinyl while supplies last.

You gotta listen this ! Tribecore is not dead... It's reniewing here with a weird sound. Notice that B2 track melting some wobble to the beat. That's something musicians should dig : it brings the bass more concrete. Autoproduction is the authentic independant way.

Clear vinyl, limited to 700 copies. Upon hitting play on the opening prologue track of BATS, it's safe to assume that we're about to embark on quite the journey - with GAMA BOMB as our intrepid tour guides. From the tombs of Egypt to the faded glamour of old Hollywood, Philly, Domo, John, Joe and James lead us through new sonic landscapes and all manner of novel adventures on what they themselves call their "weirdest" album yet. Sonically, GAMA BOMB manage to stay true to their distinctive thrash sound, honed to perfection over two decades at the frontline of headbanging and fist-pumping. There are nods to heavy metal titans such as Judas Priest and Iron Maiden, there's even a sliver of Bad Brains-esque punk attitude, and more familiar influences such as Tankard and Sodom are still evident. But if you think GAMA BOMB are serving up something run of the mill then you've clearly not accounted for a blazing saxophone solo (courtesy of Irish sax man Gavin Kerins) or a star-turn from hip hop pioneer The Egyptian Lover who raps on - naturally - Egyptron. BATS is an album that could only be borne from GAMA BOMB; on this, their eighth studio album, they have embraced their inner absurdities, they've taken a trust fall into each other's arms, relying on the idiosyncratic glue that has bound them together over the last 21 years to propel them forwards.

Here's the thing about ill peach: this band exists because they are too weird to not exist. The seed of ill peach was first planted in the recording studios of New York City where Pat Morrissey and Jess Corazza were working together as professional songwriters, collaborating with artists like Icona Pop, SZA, Weezer, Pharrell, Big Freedia, and others. Then came the day they were offered their own publishing deal. Cool, right? Well, about that: "Everyone kept saying, 'The stuff that you're writing is slightly too left-of-center-weirdo stuff," remembers Morrissey. "Why don't you start your own project?" Thus ill peach, a pop band with a punk streak and a taste for both the rotten and the sweet, with an approach to making music that goes something like: "Do you want to pick up a guitar and do you want to be on this water jug and we'll record it on the iPhone and create some weird drum pattern?" Following a series of well-received EPs on their own Pop Can Records (a record label and artist collective Morrissey and close collaborator Jesse Schuster run with friends), a digital single for Hardly Art's 15th anniversary series, and some colorful music videos that crystallized the band's visual aesthetic along with their sound, ill peach's "weirdo stuff" comes to fruition on first full-length THIS IS NOT AN EXIT: a collection of anthemic songs built out of bright pop and gritty experimental elements (Morrissey names the sculptural use of distortion on the final albums by Low as an inspiration), punctuated with hooky choruses ready to be screamed along to in the safety of your own bedroom or with a bunch of friends at one of ill peach's intense live shows. If ill peach first blossomed in New York, it took quarantine in Los Angeles for the project to ripen. The end of the world turned out to be what ill peach needed to get real with themselves. "It helped us creatively to zone in and removed us from the industry side of things to where we could just be like: this is our new identity, let's jump with both feet." THIS IS NOT AN EXIT's title is a reflection of something Corazza realized during a period of personal and familial crises "I kept walking into buildings and I'd try to exit somewhere and the sign would be like, 'This is not an exit,'" she says. "It just felt like a metaphor for a hopeful thing-don't give up yet." This combination of hope and anxiety is all over THIS IS NOT AN EXIT, reflected in a sonic palette (Alternative! Electronica! Indie! Radio pop! Coldplay!) as eclectic as it is unpretentious. Ultimately, THIS IS NOT AN EXIT is a record about healing, a process often spoken about in New Age-y terms but one that in reality can be really confusing and, yes, weird. But it is the beautiful strangeness of being alive that ill peach capture so well on THIS IS NOT AN EXIT.

Exarde’s just keep it spinnin’. This time our protagonist was originally born in Transylvania, so he knows something about the dancing vampires you often see at parties. This is confirmed by the fact that his release also contributed a lot to the gothic side of the dancefloor.

MAR.C is obsessed with dark sounds but specifically loves a guitar, acid and weirdly uplifting electro sounds. So, by his words this EP is exactly concentrated on frequencies between these two spectrums. On the remix duty’s we got P.O with his interpretation which gives an even more unique vibe as a groover for the closing scene.

Some Kind Of Forever is Euglossine's brand new full-length, out March 2022 on sound as language. Where previous Euglossine releases were a complex balance of jazz fusion, sound design, and computer music, Some Kind Of Forever sees the artist pulling back and searching for simplicity. On this album, Whitehill immerses himself in the light and delicate. Some Kind Of Forever is Whitehill's most refined and restrained work to date. Influenced by the early ECM catalog, decades of groovy/weird library music, and domestic golden-hued psychedelia, Some Kind Of Forever's subtle, meditative jazz floats by ever so softly. The album's rich and open instrumentals are pristinely constructed yet always playful. Whitehill moves deliberately as he carefully peels back the layers to create something magical and tender. Some Kind Of Forever is an instant timeless classic and the warm, gentle breeze we all need right now.

Available again this first pressing of this reissue is on neon yellow vinyl. Chapter Music presents a vinyl reissue of Australian post-punk icon David Chesworth's mutant punk-funk second album, 1981's Layer On Layer. After his revered 1979 debut 50 Synthesizer Greats (reissued by Chapter in 2017), David swapped the solo home-recorded synths for something very different - infectious, percussive art-funk weirdness. Aged 21, David recorded nights and weekends at the studio in his university's music department, building Layer On Layer from the ground up, using non-instruments like telephone directories, cardboard boxes and car parts. He created an art-damaged sound world, driven by irresistible rhythms but emphasizing chance and experimentation. Robert Goodge, Chesworth's bandmate in the celebrated Essendon Airport, contributes his trademark cyclical guitar, with Tsk Tsk Tsk's Ralph Traviato on sax and other Tsk members Philip Brophy, Jayne Stevenson and Maria Kozic on backing vocals. Layer On Layer was the beginning of David's investigations into rhythm, and remains one of his most striking works. His 70s/80s records and productions have become sought-after collectors' items and DJ holy grails. Chesworth is now a renowned composer sound artist. For digital bonus tracks, David has revisited Layer On Layer tracks to create mutant DJ versions. Also Available From David Chesworth: 50 Synthesizer Greats LP

Woods are in bloom again, inviting you to disappear into a new spectrum of colors and sounds and dreams on Perennial. Formed in Brooklyn in 2004, Woods have matured into a true independent institution, above and below the root, reliably emerging every few years with new music that grows towards the latest sky. Operating the Woodsist label since 2006 and curating the beloved homespun Woodsist Festival for the musical universe they’ve built, Perennial is the sound of a band on the edge of their 20th anniversary and still finding bold new ways to sound like (and challenge) themselves. Perennial grew from a bed of guitar/keyboard/drum loops by Woods head-in-chief Jeremy Earl, a form of winter night meditation that evolved into an unexplored mode of collaborative songwriting. With Earl’s starting points, he and bandmates Jarvis Taveniere and John Andrews convened, first at Earl’s house in New York, then at Panoramic House studio in Stinson Beach, California, site of sessions for 2020’s Strange To Explain. With a view of the sparkling Pacific and tape rolling, they began to build, jamming over the loops, switching instruments, and developing a few dozen building blocks. The album’s resulting 11 songs, 4 of them instrumental, are in the classic Woods mode--shimmering, familiar, fractionally unsettling--but with the half-invisible infinity boxes of Earl’s loops burbling beneath each like a mysterious underground source. From source to seed to bloom, each loop unfolds into something unpredictable, from the jeweled pop of the aching “Little Black Flowers” to the ecstatic starlit freak-beat of “Another Side.” They are blossomings both far-out and comforting, like the Mellotronic cloud-hopping of “Between the Past,” or sometimes just plain comforting, like the widescreen snowglobe fantasia of the instrumental “White Winter Melody,” touched by Connor Gallaher’s pedal steel. Woods have long used the studio as a place of songwriting, naming 2007’s At Rear House after their shared dwelling and recording space. But Perennial also carries with it an even longer view of Woods. Emerging from the process alongside the music was Earl’s reflection that “perennial plants and flowers are nature’s loops,” an idea rolling under the album’s lyrics like the loops themselves. It certainly applies to the band, too, who have quietly tended to a long, committed project of being a band in the weird-ass 21st century, both individually and communally. Though separated by coasts, the communal sprit carries through Earl, Taveniere, and Andrews’ collaboration, a living embodiment of the freedoms rediscovered every time a new collectively created piece of music emerges. For nearly two decades, Woods have survived subgenres, anchored in the fertile soil below hashtags like lo-fi and freak-folk and psychedelic and indie, and built a shared history that’s something to marvel at. As the flagship band for Woodsist, they’ve accumulated a striking extended family of collaborators (and Woods alum) that have made the label one of the most dependable imprints in the kaleidoscopic low-key underground. It’s a glow that’s transferred whole to the blissed-out Woodsist Fests held in Accord, New York in recent years, which have folded in a wide range of diverse sounds, from the the jazz cosmoverse of the Sun Ra Arkestra and adventurous legends Yo La Tengo, to a hard-to-even-count family tree of contemporaries, like Kevin Morby (who served a few tours of duty as Woods bassist) and Kurt Vile (who released his 2009 debut on Woodsist), a living community in sound. Perennial carries all of this, shaped by decades, but made in the moment, and here right now. The smell of the flowers doesn’t remain, but sometimes the flowers do. Jesse Jarnow Recorded and mixed by Jarvis Taveniere at Panoramic House in Stinson Beach, CA with additional recording at The Ship in Los Angeles, CA and Cottekill Bird Sanctuary in Stone Ridge, NY. Produced by Jarvis Taveniere and Jeremy Earl. Mastered by Timothy Stollenwerk at Stereophonic Mastering in Portland, OR. Jeremy Earl - vocals, guitars, drums, percussion, sk-5, mellotron, vibraphone, autoharp, loops Jarvis Taveniere - guitar, bass, upright bass, hammond, vocals John Andrews - piano, organs, mellotron, drums, vocals Connor Gallaher - Pedal Steel Kyle Forester - sax, wurlitzer

Woods are in bloom again, inviting you to disappear into a new spectrum of colors and sounds and dreams on Perennial. Formed in Brooklyn in 2004, Woods have matured into a true independent institution, above and below the root, reliably emerging every few years with new music that grows towards the latest sky. Operating the Woodsist label since 2006 and curating the beloved homespun Woodsist Festival for the musical universe they’ve built, Perennial is the sound of a band on the edge of their 20th anniversary and still finding bold new ways to sound like (and challenge) themselves. Perennial grew from a bed of guitar/keyboard/drum loops by Woods head-in-chief Jeremy Earl, a form of winter night meditation that evolved into an unexplored mode of collaborative songwriting. With Earl’s starting points, he and bandmates Jarvis Taveniere and John Andrews convened, first at Earl’s house in New York, then at Panoramic House studio in Stinson Beach, California, site of sessions for 2020’s Strange To Explain. With a view of the sparkling Pacific and tape rolling, they began to build, jamming over the loops, switching instruments, and developing a few dozen building blocks. The album’s resulting 11 songs, 4 of them instrumental, are in the classic Woods mode--shimmering, familiar, fractionally unsettling--but with the half-invisible infinity boxes of Earl’s loops burbling beneath each like a mysterious underground source. From source to seed to bloom, each loop unfolds into something unpredictable, from the jeweled pop of the aching “Little Black Flowers” to the ecstatic starlit freak-beat of “Another Side.” They are blossomings both far-out and comforting, like the Mellotronic cloud-hopping of “Between the Past,” or sometimes just plain comforting, like the widescreen snowglobe fantasia of the instrumental “White Winter Melody,” touched by Connor Gallaher’s pedal steel. Woods have long used the studio as a place of songwriting, naming 2007’s At Rear House after their shared dwelling and recording space. But Perennial also carries with it an even longer view of Woods. Emerging from the process alongside the music was Earl’s reflection that “perennial plants and flowers are nature’s loops,” an idea rolling under the album’s lyrics like the loops themselves. It certainly applies to the band, too, who have quietly tended to a long, committed project of being a band in the weird-ass 21st century, both individually and communally. Though separated by coasts, the communal sprit carries through Earl, Taveniere, and Andrews’ collaboration, a living embodiment of the freedoms rediscovered every time a new collectively created piece of music emerges. For nearly two decades, Woods have survived subgenres, anchored in the fertile soil below hashtags like lo-fi and freak-folk and psychedelic and indie, and built a shared history that’s something to marvel at. As the flagship band for Woodsist, they’ve accumulated a striking extended family of collaborators (and Woods alum) that have made the label one of the most dependable imprints in the kaleidoscopic low-key underground. It’s a glow that’s transferred whole to the blissed-out Woodsist Fests held in Accord, New York in recent years, which have folded in a wide range of diverse sounds, from the the jazz cosmoverse of the Sun Ra Arkestra and adventurous legends Yo La Tengo, to a hard-to-even-count family tree of contemporaries, like Kevin Morby (who served a few tours of duty as Woods bassist) and Kurt Vile (who released his 2009 debut on Woodsist), a living community in sound. Perennial carries all of this, shaped by decades, but made in the moment, and here right now. The smell of the flowers doesn’t remain, but sometimes the flowers do. Jesse Jarnow Recorded and mixed by Jarvis Taveniere at Panoramic House in Stinson Beach, CA with additional recording at The Ship in Los Angeles, CA and Cottekill Bird Sanctuary in Stone Ridge, NY. Produced by Jarvis Taveniere and Jeremy Earl. Mastered by Timothy Stollenwerk at Stereophonic Mastering in Portland, OR. Jeremy Earl - vocals, guitars, drums, percussion, sk-5, mellotron, vibraphone, autoharp, loops Jarvis Taveniere - guitar, bass, upright bass, hammond, vocals John Andrews - piano, organs, mellotron, drums, vocals Connor Gallaher - Pedal Steel Kyle Forester - sax, wurlitzer

Michael Mayer’s IMARA imprint is proud to announce a reissue of German electronica maestro Schlammpeitziger’s second album, Freundlichbaracudamelodieliedgut. Originally released in 1996 by Köln’s A-Musik label, it was the first Schlammpeitziger release to signal to a much wider audience that there was something very special going on in the music of Jo Zimmermann, the mastermind behind Schlammpeitziger. And while he’s subsequently gone on to release a further eight albums for labels like Sonig, Pingipung, and Bureau B, Freundlichbaracudamelodieliedgut is where it really all started for this most singular musician, illustrator and performance artist. Named after the ‘Schlammpeitzger’ or Weather Loach, a fish that breathes through its intestines, moves through substrate, and is surprisingly sensitive to changes in barometric pressure – hence its name – Schlammpeitziger is a similarly remarkable, singular creature.

Like all Schlammpeitziger’s music, Freundlichbaracudamelodieliedgut is overflowing with melody. Using the simplest of set-ups – much of his early music was made with Casio keyboards – Zimmermann magics entire worlds of joy and melancholy. The nine songs here are both rich tributes to the joys of the everyday, and surreal fantasias. “Cosmic Fick” sails out to sea on clouds of taffy and spindrift; “Winterschlafsüßbärentraum” slips and slides around a dream aviary of the mind; the closing “Mango und Papaja auf Tobago” is a diorama spun from springs and Slinkys. Sometimes there are echoes of more peaceable Kosmische music – think Cluster circa Sowiesoso – and both the pacing and the amorphous, tactile textures sometimes recall Chris & Cosey. But Zimmermann’s unique signature is everywhere on Freundlichbaracudamelodieliedgut – simply put, no one else makes music quite as lovely and incandescent as this.

The album’s initial release coincided with an explosion of interest in the music coming out of Köln. This was a unique moment – one where pop, techno, house, ambience, avant-gardism, musique concrete, heavy DSP, and all kinds of other creative phenomena got muddied up in the ‘general jelly’ of Köln’s fast-moving, spirited musical communities. Zimmermann was closely aligned with the music coming out of the A-Musik and Sonig labels – a tightly-knit collection of artists centred around the A-Musik record store, making all kinds of weird and wonderful music, from the electronica of Mouse On Mars to the compositions of Marcus Schmickler, from the electro-acoustics of C-Schulz and Hajsch to the digitalia of FX Randomiz. Zimmermann himself would collaborate with the latter on an album under the name Holosud; friends such as Mouse On Mars and Kompakt’s Reinhard Voigt turned up on Freundlichbaracudamelodieliedgut’s remix EP.

Here, then, is one of the loveliest albums of its era, a pop-electronics album of serious play, one as moistly melancholy as it is melodically riveting. Freundlichbaracudamelodieliedgut is rare beauty indeed.

Michael Mayers Label IMARA ist stolz darauf, eine Neuauflage des zweiten Albums des deutschen Electronica-Maestros Schlammpeitziger, “Freundlichbaracudamelodieliedgut”, bekannt zu geben. Ursprünglich 1996 vom Kölner Label A-Musik veröffentlicht, war es die erste Veröffentlichung von Schlammpeitziger, die einem viel breiteren Publikum signalisierte, dass in der Musik von Jo Zimmermann, dem Mastermind hinter Schlammpeitziger, etwas ganz Besonderes vor sich ging. Obwohl er seitdem weitere acht Alben für Labels wie Sonig, Pingipung und Bureau B veröffentlicht hat, ist “Freundlichbaracudamelodieliedgut” der Ort, an dem alles für diesen einzigartigen Musiker, Illustrator und Performance-Künstler begann. Schlammpeitziger, benannt nach dem “Schlammpeitzger” oder Wetterbarsch, einem Fisch, der durch seine Därme atmet, sich durch den Untergrund bewegt und erstaunlich empfindlich auf Veränderungen im Luftdruck reagiert – daher der Name – ist ebenfalls eine bemerkenswerte, einzigartige Kreatur.

Wie alle Musik von Schlammpeitziger ist auch “Freundlichbaracudamelodieliedgut” voller Melodien. Mit einfachsten Mitteln – ein Großteil seiner frühen Musik wurde mit Casio-Keyboards gemacht – zaubert Zimmermann ganze Welten voller Freude und Melancholie. Die neun Songs hier sind sowohl reiche Hommagen an die Freuden des Alltags als auch surreale Fantasien. “Cosmic Fick” segelt auf Wolken aus Karamell und Gischt hinaus aufs Meer; “Winterschlafsüßbärentraum” schlittert und gleitet durch einen Traum-Vogelkäfig im Geist; das abschließende “Mango und Papaja auf Tobago” ist ein Diorama aus Federn und Slinkys. Manchmal gibt es Echos von friedlicherer Kosmischer Musik – denke an Cluster circa “Sowiesoso” – und sowohl das Tempo als auch die amorphen, taktilen Texturen erinnern manchmal an Chris & Cosey. Aber Zimmermanns einzigartige Signatur ist überall auf “Freundlichbaracudamelodieliedgut” zu hören – ganz einfach, niemand sonst macht Musik so lieblich und leuchtend wie er.

Die ursprüngliche Veröffentlichung des Albums fiel mit einem Aufschwung des Interesses an der Musik aus Köln zusammen. Dies war ein einzigartiger Moment – einer, in dem Pop, Techno, House, Ambient, Avantgardismus, Musique Concrete, Heavy DSP und allerlei andere kreative Phänomene sich in der “Allgemeinen Gelee” der schnelllebigen, lebendigen musikalischen Gemeinschaften von Köln vermischten. Zimmermann stand in enger Verbindung mit der Musik der Labels A-Musik und Sonig – eine eng verbundene Gruppe von Künstlern rund um das A-Musik-Plattengeschäft, die alle möglichen seltsamen und wundervollen Musikrichtungen produzierten, von der Electronica von Mouse On Mars bis zu den Kompositionen von Marcus Schmickler, von der Elektroakustik von C-Schulz und Hajsch bis zur Digitalia von FX Randomiz. Zimmermann selbst würde mit letzterem an einem Album unter dem Namen Holosud zusammenarbeiten; Freunde wie Mouse On Mars und Reinhard Voigt von Kompakt tauchten in der Remix-EP von “Freundlichbaracudamelodieliedgut” auf.

Hier also eines der schönsten Alben seiner Zeit, ein Pop-Electronics-Album voller ernsthaftem Spiel, so feucht melancholisch wie melodisch fesselnd. “Freundlichbaracudamelodieliedgut” ist wahrlich eine seltene Schönheit.

Vinyl includes lyric booklet with hand-written lyrics and exclusive photos and download card. Has collaborated with MF Doom, Czarface, Ghostface Killah, Dennis Coffey, and more. Kendra Morris, the Brooklyn-based Artist is back with her fifth LP, entitled I Am What I’m Waiting For, on Colemine/Karma Chief Records. Co-Written and Produced by Torbitt Schwartz (Run The Jewels, Killer Mike, Rubble Kings, Chin Chin), this collection is Kendra’s most personal album to date. It was spring of 2022 and Kendra had just released Nine Lives, her first new album in almost a decade and her first release on Colemine Records. She felt an urgency to get back into the studio, but something felt different this time. Returning to her usual ways, places, and people that she had been creating with felt like dragging herself back to a familiar and comfortable place - but that wasn’t what she was looking for. “I had to step into a new, unknown process because I knew it was the only way that I’d continue to grow,” she explained. She took a small batch of songs to Torbitt’s studio and the two began to write. “He challenged me to find the best version of every lyric,” she shared. “When I listen back, I’m so proud of the time we spent, because every single line is deliberate. I challenged myself to write just to write. No love songs this time around. Torbitt and I wanted to create a record that felt like you cracked open the ooze in my head. There are a lot of layers to me but I only recently through age and experience have fully accepted the weird little nuances that I’m made of. I’m a messy introvert that pretends to be an extrovert so I can feel like I fit in.” From top to bottom, I Am What I’m Waiting For is sincere. It’s a fresh take on a timeless sound, and Kendra exudes power. “My heart has always been in soul music,” she shared. “On this record, you’ll hear my influences and then some. You’ll hear all the bits of me….the vulnerable bits, the silly bits, all of it.This record is my melting pot.” Whether you’re a longtime listener or just now beginning to explore the whimsical world of Kendra Morris, the relatable lyrics and modern soul sounds on I Am What I’m Waiting For are sure to turn you into a fan

Vinyl includes lyric booklet with hand-written lyrics and exclusive photos and download card. Has collaborated with MF Doom, Czarface, Ghostface Killah, Dennis Coffey, and more. Kendra Morris, the Brooklyn-based Artist is back with her fifth LP, entitled I Am What I’m Waiting For, on Colemine/Karma Chief Records. Co-Written and Produced by Torbitt Schwartz (Run The Jewels, Killer Mike, Rubble Kings, Chin Chin), this collection is Kendra’s most personal album to date. It was spring of 2022 and Kendra had just released Nine Lives, her first new album in almost a decade and her first release on Colemine Records. She felt an urgency to get back into the studio, but something felt different this time. Returning to her usual ways, places, and people that she had been creating with felt like dragging herself back to a familiar and comfortable place - but that wasn’t what she was looking for. “I had to step into a new, unknown process because I knew it was the only way that I’d continue to grow,” she explained. She took a small batch of songs to Torbitt’s studio and the two began to write. “He challenged me to find the best version of every lyric,” she shared. “When I listen back, I’m so proud of the time we spent, because every single line is deliberate. I challenged myself to write just to write. No love songs this time around. Torbitt and I wanted to create a record that felt like you cracked open the ooze in my head. There are a lot of layers to me but I only recently through age and experience have fully accepted the weird little nuances that I’m made of. I’m a messy introvert that pretends to be an extrovert so I can feel like I fit in.” From top to bottom, I Am What I’m Waiting For is sincere. It’s a fresh take on a timeless sound, and Kendra exudes power. “My heart has always been in soul music,” she shared. “On this record, you’ll hear my influences and then some. You’ll hear all the bits of me….the vulnerable bits, the silly bits, all of it.This record is my melting pot.” Whether you’re a longtime listener or just now beginning to explore the whimsical world of Kendra Morris, the relatable lyrics and modern soul sounds on I Am What I’m Waiting For are sure to turn you into a fan

They drift with phantom ease from spare, intimate, literate alt-country to a nuanced, weighted music bearing the marks of rock'n'roll history..." Classic Rock 8/10 // ”...slow burning, emotional intensity" Mojo **** // ”Alluring and seductive." Uncut **** // Morton Valence’s eighth, and eponymously titled album, comes to you, courtesy of Cow Pie Recordings, featuring 11 new songs, produced by the legendary BJ Cole. Robert ‘Hacker’ Jessett and Anne Gilpin, who form the nucleus of Morton Valence, effortlessly take the country music genre, which is generally considered a uniquely American musical form, and create something uniquely English, without ever compromising their authenticity. The atmosphere that BJ Cole brings to the album is palpable, in both production values, and his unmistakable pedal steel guitar performances, on songs such as the plaintive ‘Together Through the Rain’, where an estranged Anne and Hacker reunite under the shelter of an umbrella, walking through the rain and trading verses along the way. Or the more upbeat country rock of ‘I’ve Been Watching You/You’ve Been Watching Me’, which is almost as if Richard and Linda Thompson had touched down in some Nashville backbar before heading for the bright lights. And of course, the scintillatingly down-beat opener, and instant urban-country classic; ‘Summertime in London’, where Hacker reflects on his home city from afar, through simultaneously tear-stained and rose-tinted glasses. What gives the album its country hallmark, are the narratives in the songs. However, they forego the typical Americana for an altogether more kitchen-sink aesthetic. We see the return of MV alter egos Bob and Veronica in ‘Bob and Veronica’s Big Move’, as they make their way from the big city to what could only be the arcadian blue-collar tranquillity of Hastings, or Skegness perhaps? There’s the bewildered small-town homecoming of a wannabe prodigal son in ‘A Town Called Home’. And a conversation with ‘Jim’, a seemingly old-school kind of bloke, with a penchant for midday drinking and late-night city shenanigans. As well as BJ Cole’s steel guitar, there are other collaborations too. ‘Like a Face that’s Been Starved of a Kiss’, co-written with Band of Holy Joy front man, and lyrical visionary Johny Brown. Flamenco guitar genius, Amir John Haddad, sits in on the urban-cowboy ballad, ‘Me & My Old Guitar’, the skewed violin of Dylan Bates brings something of the vaudeville to songs such as ‘It Isn’t Easy Being an Angel’, Guy Jackson adds his sublime keyboards throughout, and the whole thing is held together by unsung rhythm section heroes Jamie Shaw on drums and Josh De Mita on bass. As with all Morton Valence albums, along with the shade, there is always some light, in particular the escapist cosmic romp of ‘It’s a Brand-New Morning’, or the wryly observant, ‘It Isn’t Easy Being an Angel’, where the protagonist discovers that he’s living in some weird kind of purgatory where even the late Johnny Thunders has quit smoking. This is an ambitious album, formed through a unique symbiosis of musical characters, which is ready to redefine UK country music, put ‘urban country’ centre-stage, and should be heard by everyone

The collaboration between Klara Lewis and Nik Colk Void somehow seemed inevitable. Both artists having seen their releases published by Editions Mego, individually carving out idiosyncratic voices in the worlds of extreme, abstract electronic music. With Full-On, Lewis and Void explore and assimilate the very edge of their individual practice where a unique collaborative interface allows two voices to combine and morph into a third voice.


Lewis and Void play ping pong with the conversation of sounds, generating ideas and bouncing them off each other, simultaneously encouraging the other to go further with their ideas opening up an opportunity to engage with previously unexplored terrain. Guitars, synths, euro rack modular systems, voice, sampling and outboard processing are folded in a playful unification with a propensity to tease, explore and extract new ideas and shapes, sometimes brutal, sometimes playful.

Trust was also a compositional tool allowing instinct to freely move on any aspect of the sound and space. This sound/feeling/instinct/association let this wild and wonderful material grow organically into something new.

The result of this exploratory interplay are 17 intense miniatures reveling in the process of unadulterated experimentation and whimsical interplay, not just between the humans, but the machines themselves. United in an endless series of sonic U-turns, this daring duo intertwine pop and noise whilst also bringing together visions of tender techno and forthright ambient.

The various zones which manifest from all this reveals vocals shifting in mysterious ways, dust drenched beats churning limpidly and devilish string loops navigating a disorientating domain. The experience of listening to Full-On is to be confronted with a range of ideas resulting in a platter of emotions. A place where beauty and the beast collide with the impulsive and outright weird. What a wonderful world.

The long side is a weird Drum & Bass tune, full of space tricks and quiet unformated : No More Hardcore (by Opiohm). B side starts with "Order" (by Snox) a good Bassline tune that turns into Hard techno after 3 minutes... The Last tune "Museilum" (by Snox) b1iss a space Drum & Break tune bringing the Freebreak into something total space. An excellent record.

On their sophomore effort Tusky, surrealist duet Robbie & Mona ascend beyond the lo-fi scrawlings of their debut album to something altogether more grandiose. Between the lights down drama of sprawling opener ‘Sensation’, to the ‘roll credits’ coda of closer ‘Always Gonna Be A Dead Man’, Tusky exists as a glitzy, lucid journey playing out before the listener.
While debut album EW captured William Carkeet and Ellie Gray as they were finding their feet with one another, creating Tusky was a wholly symbiotic process from day one. “We got better at knowing what each other wanted,” William offers. “This was the album that we were trying to make from the beginning.”

Simultaneously evoking multiple eras of music, the album drifts through worlds of synth pop, jazz, trap, drill, ballroom waltz and leftfield electronica, with the scatterbrain sound palette melded by a peppering of instrumental motifs and William’s addiction to sampling sounds across multiple tracks. “I wanted there to be this weird dimensional thing going on,” William explains, “where songs from the album are playing in multiple places.”

The record sees an expansive cast of musicians assembled, with a much heavier focus on live instrumentation than previous outings. Alongside the expected fare of crackly synths, samplers and drum machines, Tusky gets its glossy sheen from a rich tapestry of jazz drums, double bass, grand piano and saxophone.

Most of the tracks are laden with improvised saxophone from Campbell Baum (Sorry, Broadside Hacks) and Ben Vince (Housewives, Joy Orbison), much of which was scrambled by William in post-production, lifting scraps from one song and layering them atop an entirely different track. Elsewhere, session musicians were cherry picked, including Bingo Fury, his drummer Henry Terrett, and a string ensemble led by Caelia Lunniss and Jo Silverston (Spindle Ensemble).

Most surprising is a rap feature from Monika (of South-East London collective Nukuluk), who brings album centrepiece ‘Mildred’ to new heights with a fiery verse on pain. Aside from being the most unlikely addendum to a sombre piano ballad, it demonstrates Robbie & Mona’s natural state of playfulness, forever following emotions and sensuality over any notion of traditional compositional boundaries.
Many of Tusky's tracks owe their inception to cinema, be it the soundtrack to Betty Blue, the glowing films of Wim Wenders, or the surprising parallels between La Belle Et La Bete and Bad Boys. Equally, much of Robbie & Mona's new-found sense of tension and spectacle comes from William’s recent work soundtracking independent filmmakers, while Ellie gave greater priority to threading a narrative through her stream of consciousness writing style.

In all its majesty, Tusky celebrates creativity with creation. “If you begin to see fiction as real, you can reincarnate and become different things. You can grow,” Ellie implores. “Nothing stays the same. You can shed old characters in yourself. There’s great joy in that.”

When I first heard Natalie Rose LeBrecht's time-suspending, air-ionizing music, more than twenty years ago, I thought "this kid is on to something." She's been proving that thought right ever since. Her recordings, from the teenage 4-track tapes she made as Greenpot Bluepot to the recent albums under her own name, have been fascinating dispatches from her progressively deeper dives into her gorgeous, weird, wildly idiomatic aesthetic. Holy Prana Open Game is a jewel of intensely personal cosmic music, created through a remarkable process of openness, craftiness, addition and subtraction. It belongs to a tradition of albums that document a rich, meditative sound as it rises up to join the world outside its creators' minds: Alice Coltrane's Universal Consciousness, Harmonia's Musik von Harmonia, Philip Glass's North Star, Talk Talk's Laughing Stock.

"Meditative" is specifically the idea here: Holy Prana Open Game had its origins in the fourteen days LeBrecht spent silently meditating in her home's small music room in the summer of 2019. "I came out of that bursting with the will to create new music," she says, and she created it sound-first. LeBrecht taught herself to program an analog synthesizer's timbres from scratch, and built a new set of glacial, heady compositions out of them, eventually singing to accompany the keyboard parts she was playing.

Then she closed her eyes at her computer, "let my mind be clear and open, imagined light pouring down through me, and began auto-writing to my memory of the music playing through my mind. Most of the lyrics emerged this way, and then I used my conscious mind to refine them a bit at the end." One other song came along with LeBrecht's new pieces, a cover that seems wildly unlikely from the outside and makes total sense in its context: it's a version of Atoms for Peace's "Amok" (which had been created by improvisation and editing, too), mutated into her own idiolect.

In early March of 2020, LeBrecht recorded Holy Prana Open Game's analog synth parts with Martin Bisi at his studio in Brooklyn--and then the world shut down. As you may have gathered, LeBrecht is very much a spiritual, head-in-the-stars type. She is also extremely hardcore, and if making the art she wants to make means doing things the hard way, she cracks her knuckles and gets down to it. Within weeks, she had taught herself how to record, mix and edit with a digital audio workstation. She recorded her vocal parts (sometimes multi-tracked into a radiant choir) at home, assembled a rough mix of the album, and sent it off to her collaborators.

LeBrecht spent some years studying with and assisting La Monte Young and Marian Zazeela at their legendary sound-and-light installation, the Dream House. As with their work, her singular, precisely focused vision is shored up by its openness to artistic voices beyond her own. For Holy Prana Open Game, she worked with the Australian guitarist Mick Turner and drummer Jim White (both of Dirty Three, the Tren Brothers and innumerable other projects), as well as woodwind player David Lackner, a longtime presence on her recordings.

Turner and White have been playing together in one context or another since 1985; in the summer of 2020, they were only blocks from each other in Melbourne, Australia, whose strict lockdown meant they couldn't meet up to record together. So both of them, as well as Lackner, recorded their improvisational additions to LeBrecht's rough mixes individually, often without hearing each other's contributions. "I had asked them to play as much as they could on each track," she says, "and told them that I would edit it all down in post, so I had a lot of source material of theirs to work with."

LeBrecht arranged and edited the recordings from all four of their homes to flow together like breath across the duration of her suite. Prana, one of the album's central conceits, is in fact the Sanskrit word for breath, with the connotation of the breath of life. Like LeBrecht's music, prana flows at its own pace, and demands stillness to take in fully--but it's also subtly playful and surprising, a force that can be as light as air or as immersive as the atmosphere itself.

Eric Emm and Jesse Cohen of Tanlines are indie-rock lifers turned reasonable, happy middle-aged fathers of two, figuring out their place in a chaotic culture and industry that can no longer command their full attention. They are emblematic of a particular time and place that doesn't really exist anymore, yet here they are existing, and thriving, in 2023. The Big Mess came together when Emm and his family moved from Brooklyn to rural Connecticut, while Cohen launched a marketing career and a successful podcast and stayed in the city. Emm continued writing songs_hundreds of them _ through all the weirdness of the past few years, but he wasn't exactly sure who he was writing them for. "I spent years figuring out in my mind, `What is my musical life going to look like?'" he says. "I just kept writing." Cohen gave Emm his blessing to continue Tanlines, even if his own contributions would be limited due to his own non-musical obligations. "I'm like, `Whatever you can do to keep this thing going, do it,'" Cohen says. And with that, Tanlines was reborn. By January 2022 Emm felt he had a body of work that made sense as a Tanlines album. Cohen spent ten days with Emm at his Connecticut studio, along with unofficial third Tanline Patrick Ford (!!!). This was tied together with a sleek final mix from Peter Katis (The National, Interpol) at his famed Tarquin Studios, resulting in a clear vision of what Emm's musical life was going to look like: The Big Mess. The first sounds on The Big Mess are the title track's coiled guitars and thumping drums, building into the kind of outsize, choral rock anthem artists like Tanlines were almost a reaction to. It is warm and nostalgic, and Cohen likens a lot of the prevailing mood to "a sepia filter on a digital photo." He continues, "we were pretty intentional about making this the first song on the album, underlining the way that this is a new phase of the band." Cohen says. The moody, scintillating "Burns Effect" serves as one of the biggest pushes forward for the Tanlines sound, and for Emm as a lyricist. He says that the song is "deep and dark and dangerous, but in a fun way. It's one of the more personal tracks on the album where this ungrounded part of my personality surfaces, but with an over-the-top machismo, almost an ironic character." Other tracks like "New Reality" and closer "The Age of Innocence" are also demonstrably guitar-forward in ways that wouldn't seem obvious for Tanlines (despite Emm's pedigree in austere avant-garde math-rock outfits Storm & Stress and Don Caballero), but Emm is less sure The Big Mess is a total departure. "I'm trying to make these absolutely simple things," he says. "I think of these songs as Rothko paintings: They're big and they're bold and they're seemingly straightforward, but they have a lot of depth and they engage with you and make you feel something."

Sasu Ripatti presents the third volume in his "Dancefloor Classics" series with five 10" releases coming throughout 2023. Music for imaginary dancefloors, released on Ripatti's own label "Rajaton".

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”Look up, into the light” she said, while the camera shutter clicked. ”Like this? Does it look holy?” His neck felt stiff. Her reply: ”Yes, just like that. What do you mean holy? Like religious? ”No, more like trying to look very far, somewhere beyond what we can see.” ”Okay, stand still, I’m going to come close to you now. The light hits your face great.” click, click, click.

He noticed her fingernails. They were not polished. Natural. Even somewhat rugged, as if something wore out the fingers slightly. What had these hands held besides the camera? What made the edges of her fingernails drift off?

He thought it’s weird to look straight into the camera. The photographer had closed her left eye, the one not looking into the lens. Then it opened, she looked up, perusing the surroundings, then she closed her eye again, then looked up, closed, looking up, very quickly. It all seemed very professional. Maybe she calculated the light, making sure it’s close to perfect. ”What will these photos look like?” – the thought popped into his head briefly. It was liberating to think it wouldn’t matter.

”What’s that song playing?” he asked. ”Wait a sec, Ol’ Dirty Bastard?” she replied. ”Oh yeah, right. But the sample?” ”Hey, could you look up again, like that. No, lower.”

New directions: ”Look out from the window, turn left.” ”My left or yours?” ”Yours, I always try to think from the direction of my model.” How professional! This is a good shoot, so natural. Should I worry about how the photos look like? No, I don’t want to. His thoughts bounced around. What would the story be like? It’s a big newspaper, everyone will read it. Maybe someone drinks coffee and eats a stroopwafel while they do it. Will they place the waffle on top of the mug for a brief while, so that it gets hot and the syrup melts a little? Then it feels wet, and you can bend the cookie.

She broke his train of thought off midway through: ”Now turn right, but look left, and slightly up, but don’t turn your face right.” ”Umm, like this? Sounds like a set of pilates instructions.” she laughed ”You do pilates?” ”Yeah, it’s hard sometimes. Have you tried?” ”No”, she said. ”I’m not good for sports that are done in groups.” ”Yeah, but in pilates you can just be inside your mind, drowning in your private thoughts.”

”What are you thinking in pilates?” she asked, taking more photos. ”Well, mostly just which way is right. And which left.” click, click.

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Eric Emm and Jesse Cohen of Tanlines are indie-rock lifers turned reasonable, happy middle-aged fathers of two, figuring out their place in a chaotic culture and industry that can no longer command their full attention. They are emblematic of a particular time and place that doesn't really exist anymore, yet here they are existing, and thriving, in 2023. The Big Mess came together when Emm and his family moved from Brooklyn to rural Connecticut, while Cohen launched a marketing career and a successful podcast and stayed in the city. Emm continued writing songs_hundreds of them _ through all the weirdness of the past few years, but he wasn't exactly sure who he was writing them for. "I spent years figuring out in my mind, `What is my musical life going to look like?'" he says. "I just kept writing." Cohen gave Emm his blessing to continue Tanlines, even if his own contributions would be limited due to his own non-musical obligations. "I'm like, `Whatever you can do to keep this thing going, do it,'" Cohen says. And with that, Tanlines was reborn. By January 2022 Emm felt he had a body of work that made sense as a Tanlines album. Cohen spent ten days with Emm at his Connecticut studio, along with unofficial third Tanline Patrick Ford (!!!). This was tied together with a sleek final mix from Peter Katis (The National, Interpol) at his famed Tarquin Studios, resulting in a clear vision of what Emm's musical life was going to look like: The Big Mess. The first sounds on The Big Mess are the title track's coiled guitars and thumping drums, building into the kind of outsize, choral rock anthem artists like Tanlines were almost a reaction to. It is warm and nostalgic, and Cohen likens a lot of the prevailing mood to "a sepia filter on a digital photo." He continues, "we were pretty intentional about making this the first song on the album, underlining the way that this is a new phase of the band." Cohen says. The moody, scintillating "Burns Effect" serves as one of the biggest pushes forward for the Tanlines sound, and for Emm as a lyricist. He says that the song is "deep and dark and dangerous, but in a fun way. It's one of the more personal tracks on the album where this ungrounded part of my personality surfaces, but with an over-the-top machismo, almost an ironic character." Other tracks like "New Reality" and closer "The Age of Innocence" are also demonstrably guitar-forward in ways that wouldn't seem obvious for Tanlines (despite Emm's pedigree in austere avant-garde math-rock outfits Storm & Stress and Don Caballero), but Emm is less sure The Big Mess is a total departure. "I'm trying to make these absolutely simple things," he says. "I think of these songs as Rothko paintings: They're big and they're bold and they're seemingly straightforward, but they have a lot of depth and they engage with you and make you feel something."

Jean-Luc Mocard met Jean Ronde in September of 2009, while working at the CASIO Palaiseau factory, near Paris. Before, they were both active musicians with a particular taste for synthesized music, touring extensively through European and Asian underground venues and clubs. Eventually, their furious passion for collecting 80’s keyboards brought them together to become the fabulous duo Vive Les Cônes.

Presently based in Porto, Portugal, by a matter of pure chance, Vive Les Cônes is a CASIO explosion, the fuel of a dancing machine that never stops and cherry picks moments from dance and pop music culture along the way. Their live concerts are non-stop hit parades featuring their very own local cult classics, such as “Bonaparty” or “Brocoli-Rave”, and medleys of pop-culture classics ranging from video-game soundtracks, to dance hits, to classical music.

“De France”, their debut album, is the product of years of playing live, training and mastering the perfect CASIO technique. Every track in this album is played live using only pure unmodded Casio PT-380 and Yamaha PSR-37 keyboards, thrift store fx pedals, bringing to the recorded form the meticulously crafted tracks that set dancefloors on fire all throughout the world.

The album is an eclectic journey through electronic and dance music on cheap keyboards, from traces of House Music in “Maillon” and the instant hit “Je Ne Sais Pas”, fumes of vaporwave in “Machine à Vapeur”, and, of course, baguettes of French electro in “Brocoli-Rave”, the track that usually andeuphorically ends Vive Les Cônes’ set.

The Quietus has referred to the duo as a “weird John Shuttleworth take on house music”, but them being French, a better comparison would be something like “Daft Punk lost all their gear on tour and had to play a gig using some old keyboards”. But could they even do it? Maybe a “Pascal Comelade on molly live set for Boiler Room” could make thembetter Justice. We’re not really sure what to compare them to though, and probably there’s no need to compare them to anything, as the best thing you can do is to give them a go and check them out for yourself.