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Recital releases The Holy Restaurant, the new full-length album by Derek Baron, and their first solo LP since Curtain (Recital, 2020).

The album is built from years of miniature transcriptions of improvisations, functioning in many ways as a sister to Curtain. Half-thoughts and mistakes are revisited, gilded, and illuminated. The floorboards of the album are laid with piano, organ, string pads, while serrated accruements (distortions, flourishes, and recording interferences) step and drop overhead. The resulting conflux, as Baron notes in the accompanying booklet “becomes the point and the problem to explore.”

The second track “Oven Girls” opens with us galloping on a horse in some video-game meadow on a bed of MIDI strings. Abruptly, a helicopter soars over us and we transition to a latticed guitar and woodwind exploration. The album rolls on in this fashion, juxtaposing musical half-sentences within a museum of sounds rag-picked from history and daily life. Emotional interviews with Midwestern friars who build and sell caskets are set against gothic piano and guitar duets. On “Music in the Casket,” A disorienting and hilariously epic guitar solo erupts. The penultimate titular piece, “The Holy Restaurant,” sets a text written by Baron’s grandfather. A small chorus voices his words, echoing the humanistic storytelling of “Blue” Gene Tyranny’s A Letter From Home. Under sunlit piano progressions, a fleet of smokey trumpets emerges.

Running throughout the album is a series of “traces”: short melodic phrases painted over again and again with different real and MIDI instrumentation. The “luxurious asceticism of doubling” as Baron puts it. They explain, “Part of the allure for me is that the ‘original’ material is itself kind of thin, sketchy, meaningless, maybe calling attention to itself only by way of a felicitous mistake. Hearing, transcribing, and learning what was basically only ever played first on accident becomes the guiding concern.”

The album’s shifting, variegated forms and voices pass quickly; the record feels both comforting and elusive, suitable for any hour of the day.

The Holy Restaurant features guest players Ed Atkins, Lucy Liyou, Quentin Moore, Emily Martin, Dominic Frigo, Jacob Wick, and several of Baron’s family members. It is released in a limited edition vinyl pressing of 200 copies, accompanied by a booklet of effusive program notes by the composer, alongside an assemblage of photographs, scores, and artwork.

Tremor erscheint zu einem Zeitpunkt, an dem Averys Arbeitspensum für Außenstehende kolossal erscheint. Als Produzent, DJ, Musiker und Remixer, der ständig mit anderen zusammenarbeitet, hat er kürzlich DRONE:NODRONE von The Cure neu interpretiert, wofür er allgemeine Anerkennung erhielt. Seine Arbeit als eines von drei Mitgliedern von Demise of Love (eine Gruppe, die gemeinsam mit Ghost Culture und Working Men’s Club gegründet wurde) liefert derzeit den Soundtrack für die verschwommenen, undurchsichtigen Ränder der Tanzflächen auf der ganzen Welt. Das Album ist Averys erste Veröffentlichung bei Domino.

Die Platte ist voller unerwarteter Kollaborationen, darunter: Yeule, Art School Girlfriend, Ryan von bdrmm, Yune Pinku, Cécile Believe, Walter Schreifels von Rival Schools, Julie von New Dad und Alison Mosshart. „Tremor” wurde teilweise von David Wrench und teilweise vom legendären Alan Moulder gemischt. Es ist ein Breitwand-Album, auf dem sich Daniel mehr denn je auf Instrumentierung stützt und diese Klänge mit seiner charakteristischen, dunklen, techno-ähnlichen Produktion ergänzt. Es gibt wunderschöne melodische Parts, große elektronische Hits, härtere Grunge-Parts und wunderschöne Ambient-Momente, die einen wieder zur Ruhe kommen lassen.

Peace and love in late 60s America did not come without parallel feelings of fear and confusion about the social situation – specifically about Vietnam. “Safe In My Garden” is the latest Ace compilation in an acclaimed series compiled by Bob Stanley – it’s a companion piece to the much-praised “State Of The Union (The American Dream In Crisis 1967 – 1973)” Ace CDCHD 1533/XXQLP2 057 2018).

The music on “Safe In My Garden” is harmony-laden, beautifully produced soft rock. Sunshine pop, even - a melodic, innovative style of American music that grew in the mid-60s out of the folk and surf scenes, exemplified by the Beach Boys and the Mamas and Papas. You will hear orchestral arrangements, and soft boy-girl vocals. But it wasn’t made in isolation from what was going on in the outside world. There are clouds and minor chords, plenty of melancholy in those harmonies.

“Safe In My Garden” includes songs of escape (Mark Eric’s ‘Move With The Dawn’, the Groop’s ‘A Famous Myth’), loss (the Eighth Day’s ‘How Can I Stop Loving You’, the New Colony Six’s ‘Prairie Grey’), dreamscapes (Tommy James and the Shondells’ ‘She’, Nancy Priddy’s ‘Christina’s World’), rebirth (Smokey and his Sister’s ‘Creators Of Rain’), a simpler world (the Free Design’s ‘My Brother Woody’) and a philosophically sounder future (Chad & Jeremy’s ‘The Ark’, Best of Friends’ ‘Summer Sound’).

It contains some surprisingly dark messages paired with beautiful melodies, as well as songs of hope. Thousands of young musicians in cities, suburbs and small towns across the States from the mid to late 60s spent their mornings hiding from the mailman, dreading the draft. This is the Sound of Young America in the late 60s, keeping its fingers crossed.

The Dead 60s seminal self-titled album gets a timely Deluxe edition reissue on Vinyl for its 20th Anniversary, on Deltasonic Records



“Back in the day, punk and dub weren’t just sharing space—they were smashing into each other headfirst. Late '70s Britain was a pressure cooker, and for kids like me, growing up between Brixton’s bass bins and the chaos of King’s Road, that collision was everything. Jamaican sound system culture met punk’s raw spirit in a haze of smoke, sweat, and feedback. It wasn’t about genre—it was about energy. Identity. Defiance. so when The Dead 60s came along, post-Britpop and post-bullshit, it felt like someone had dusted off the blueprint and run it through a battered old tape echo. These weren’t just lads with good taste—they understood the assignment. They took the DNA of two rebel cultures and mutated it into something that could stand tall in the 21st century. Dub-soaked, punk-fuelled, dripping with that Liverpool attitude. I remember first hearing them and thinking—yeah, here we go again. Not in a retro way, but in a real way. Guitars that cut like sirens in the night. Basslines fat and warm, straight out the Channel One playbook. Lyrics that painted the grey corners of Britain like CCTV poetry. It was the sound of youth under pressure. The sound of not fitting in—and not wanting to.

Their debut album dropped in 2005, and it hit like a flare in the dark. “Riot Radio” was a pirate broadcast from the concrete frontlines. “Control This” swaggered with menace and reverb. It was like someone opened a time capsule from the punky-reggae party and rewired it for a new generation.

Now, with this 20th anniversary vinyl reissue—complete with the full dub companion produced by Central Nervous System—we get to hear the bones and blood of it all. The dub versions pull the tracks apart and let the ghosts speak. Reverb, delay, space—it’s not just production, it’s meditation. Revolution slowed down to a heartbeat. It’s music that makes you move and think. What they’ve done here is more than remix a record—they’ve revealed its soul. That’s what dub does when it’s done right. And The Dead 60s, they got that. They weren’t tourists in the culture—they were students of it, shaped by it, and ultimately, contributors to the legacy. Liverpool’s long had a love affair with Jamaican music—you can hear it in the streets if you’re really listening. The Dead 60s tapped into that lineage, but they brought their own thing to the table. Punk's fire. Dub’s depth. Ska’s bounce. All filtered through a Northern lens and blasted out like protest graffiti. This 20th anniversary reissue ain’t about nostalgia. It’s a reminder. A celebration. A call to arms. Music like this doesn’t belong in a museum—it belongs on a system, shaking walls and waking minds. Crate diggers, completists, young punks, old heads—this one's for all of you.

So put it on and turn it up. Let the punk edge sharpen your thoughts, and the dub shake your bones ‘cos this isn’t just a reissue - it’s resistance on wax.....”

Holy Sons is the largely solo project of Emil Amos (Grails, Om, Lilacs & Champagne). Puritan Themes is his 17th album and his 4th for Thrill Jockey Records and a tentpole album in his wide-ranging output, including myriad private press LPs, collections of oddities, and conceptual series". Puritan Themes" relaxed vibes are influenced by the laid-back west coast rock sound of mid-period Fleetwood Mac, blended with a dose of psych distortion and imbued with the breeziness and ease of yacht rock. Puritan Themes is a record that knowingly, barely fits into the modern world. When mixing the record in Chicago, everyday Amos skated through Douglass Park listening to podcasts about the inner workings of The Band, listened to 70"s AM radio while washing dishes and went to sleep at night to early Bee Gees interviews. The earliest concept of the record was based around the track "Chain Gang" which was an imaginary take on if Cat Stevens had smoked a ton of salvia and taken a much darker route within that world of dense, story-telling/message-based songwriting. The track "Raw & Disfigured" borrows its name from the last Thrill Jockey Holy Sons record, in a referential move that"s stolen from the way Led Zeppelin separated the track "Houses of the Holy" from the record of the same name (once again harkening back to 70"s lore).

Deep black, with ghostly glimmers of an old car melting into the tarmac: the cover of Never En-ding Rodeo sets the tone. This isn't just a late-night drive, but a controlled skid across the borders of Post-Rock, Noise and Psych. The engine roars, the ground shakes, the white lines blur. Six years after the release of Ain't That Mayhem, the Lyon-based band returns with a dense, smoke-veiled record. Never Ending Rodeo: a deceptively playful, almost cartoonish title for such an intense album. As if, after circling endlessly around dust, bucking, and stampedes, Zëro had carved out its own orbit. Unstable, inevitably. But magnetic. Éric Aldéa (guitar, vocals), Franck Laurino (drums), Ivan Chiossone (Persephone, synths), and now Varou Jan (guitar, bass) - (Le Peuple de l'Herbe, Condense) - have lost none of their bite. Better still: this new album marks a turning point in production quality, thanks in particular to the mixing work of Niko Matagrin. The sound is broader, more inhabited. Every snare crack, every synth layer sits precisely in a meticulously sculpted space. "As if Tom Waits had collided with Nine Inch Nails. Before a frightening modernity hurled this so-nic convoy into a headlong rush." ~ Indiepoprock "You don't simply pass through Never Ending Rodeo: you step inside, you lock yourself in, drawn irresistibly by its magnetism." ~ Solénopole

A collaboration forged in the heart of the American Midwest, In The Earth Again unites Oklahoma City"s noise rock institution Chat Pile with Texas/Oklahoma"s visionary guitarist and composer Hayden Pedigo. What began as a casual split release idea spiraled into thirty-six-minute album that threads their contrasting sensibilities into something entirely new. Pedigo"s panoramic, primitive guitar, meets Chat Pile"s industrial decay, creating a record that explores unknown emotional registers and atmospheric depth for both, In The Earth Again sounds like a post-apocalyptic transmission from rural nowhere. Instead of making concessions, the five artists work as a single unit, and each decision is made in support of the greater vision. The result is both intimate and expansive, a tribute to the modern wasteland. Cover art by Malcom Byers.

A collaboration forged in the heart of the American Midwest, In The Earth Again unites Oklahoma City"s noise rock institution Chat Pile with Texas/Oklahoma"s visionary guitarist and composer Hayden Pedigo. What began as a casual split release idea spiraled into a thirty-six-minute album that threads their contrasting sensibilities into something entirely new. Pedigo"s panoramic, primitive guitar, meets Chat Pile"s industrial decay, creating a record that explores unknown emotional registers and atmospheric depth for both, In The Earth Again sounds like a post-apocalyptic transmission from rural nowhere. Instead of making concessions, the five artists work as a single unit, and each decision is made in support of the greater vision. The result is both intimate and expansive, a tribute to the modern wasteland. Cover art by Malcom Byers.

Toni Wobble is looking back on over 20 years of roots in punk, free parties and political movements. From anti-nuclear activism to the Gaggeldub performances, Toni's dug deep into the Dub universe: from Dubstation to Rootsbase to Subardo. By 2012, Toni became a respected operator of Leipzig's Plug Dub Soundsystem. Soon after, he didn't hesitate to create the very own solar- powered Sunplugged sound. Toni's live dub sets hit with all depth and energy of low bass sound culture, shaking the foundations with refreshing freakuency adventures. After a guest spot on our 18th release, helping RUZ dubbing out a deep b-side, it's time to unleash the full Wobble fury on 45Seven!

Out In Da Streetz was born in a lockdown, when urban life got stall, opening space for experiments. Inspired by Juke and Footwork at nights such as Bassmæssage, Toni ventured into Jungle production - the genre him love from way back. The result is an opus of subs, breaks, skanks and dubs. Expect 30 Hertz bass, wobbly midranges, halftime snares and Jungle edits sharp like razor. Don't miss the Ini cameo and hand-made skank work straight from the lab. The result ain't just a track, it's a state of inner and outer emergency, a deep dive into groove, texture and creative chaos.

Irie Cruise rolls up like a cloud of green smoke riding through the streets with a sick ride in a surreal vibe. Rootsy rhythms meet subtle Jungle twists inbetween the twinkles of Dub and the flickers of breakbeats. When the hook drops, the impulse fires up, the lowrider bounces through the turns of skanks, throwing dub delays and gliding deep into the night. By the final tone, you didn't just take a ride, you're actually a bit closer to the sun.

Toni Wobble is giving the full hundred. Dub ain't just a genre, it's a portal to infinite spaces of sound. It's a culture, a process and an attitude, all about echo, bass and space. But it's also about experimentation, consciousness and transformation. Each delay loop is reshaping reality, tearing it down and rebuilding it from the ground up. D.U.B. equals to deep universal beats, the universal frequency... Deep, wide and open. Tune in and dub out!

EMPIRE, the nation’s leading independent record label, recently teamed up with the NBA 2K video game to provide the soundtrack for Season 2 of its series in October 2024. The soundtrack was a natural pairing of the two iconic Bay Area based companies to push culture forward through music, sports, and gaming. The 2 LP Box set, which includes music from the likes of Larry June, Key Glock, Money Man, LUCKI, Asake & Central Cee, and more is housed in a premium box with glossy, hardwood floor print on the outside, and a basketball textured inner box will also include a mini-satin championship banner, a custom basketball keychain, and virtual currency for in-game purchases.


Custom outer box with high gloss print
Custom inner box with basketball texture and debossed print
1 Red Smoke Vinyl in jacket
1 Blue Smoke Vinyl in jacket
16.5” x 10.5” custom satin championship banner
Custom basketball keychain
35,000 Virtual Currency for in-game purchases
Featuring music from Larry June, Key Glock, Money Man, LUCKI, Asake & Central Cee, and more

Having worked together on his 2024 album Colours & Light, Project Gemini aka Paul Osborne joins forces once again with Wendy Martinez, French singer and composer, and also part of renowned psych-girl group Gloria on a new collaborative EP. Landing on Mr Bongo, ‘Time Stands Still / Le temps s'arrête’ is a sonic exploration that shows a shared love of the progressive music emanating out of France in the ‘60s and ‘70s and the celebrated film soundtrack composers of the time. A more melodic and romantic excursion than Paul’s previous recordings, this EP marries his richly textured, cinematic psych rock with Martinez’s captivating vocal presence.

A body of work born during the period Paul was finishing up his last LP Colours & Light, he penned an album’s worth of instrumental library-style music and had the idea of having Wendy add vocals and lyrics to a selection of them. The instrumental record got scrapped, but thankfully ‘Time Stands Still’ grew out of it.

Paul was a fan of Wendy’s work as both a solo artist and in the band Gloria, and her inclusion on the Project Gemini tracks ‘Entre chien et loup’ & ‘Extra Nuit’ showed a clear synergy to their musical approaches and sounds. For ‘Time Stands Still’ he sent over instrumental tracks one by one, with Wendy taking time to find melodies and French poetry she was happy with and returning her ideas from her home just outside of Lyon.

Drawing inspiration from French soundtrack composers such as François de Roubaix, Frances Lai and Michel Colombier, as well as French female artists including Léonie and Laurence Vanay, these productions are a contemporary love letter to this sound, not a homage. Mixing psych, folk, chanson, and French new wave, it’s music that pulls you in deeper, with groove, grit and passion at its core.

'Je n'ai plus peur' kicks things off with a sultry energy. It’s a psych-funk production drenched in attitude, swagger, and edge, which nods to the left-field side of Serge Gainsbourg’s music. Elsewhere, 'Âme contre âme' feels like the opener from a forgotten new-wave film, managing to be at both beautiful yet sinister and longing. 'The Crawler' could be incidental music from the same film, with Wendy using her voice as an instrument layering the backing track as Paul's bass takes centre stage. The ghostly spoken word of 'Ce qui est intact' echoes a funky version of what the Théâtre du Chêne Noir d'Avignon may have recorded.

A transportive journey ‘Time Stands Still’ is nostalgic yet new in the same smoke-filled breath. Fuzzed-up guitars and driving basslines meld with folk-leaning organs and mellotron vibrations to give that eerie, otherworldly edge. All of which are seasoned by the sensuous, layered vocal tones of Wendy Martinez, alongside crisp drums from Tony Coote and considered percussive touches by Paul Elliot.

In syrupy slow pursuit of a strong 2023 debut, Yungwebster's somnolent sequel is bolstered by pitch-perfect production from Space Afrika and Nathan Melja, who vaporise the rapper's auto-tuned post-Future drawl with euphoric orchestral drones, brittle micro-trap beats and weightless pads.

Over a decade ago at this point, Future released 'Codeine Crazy', the decelerated finale of 'Monster', one of his best-loved mixtapes. The track neatly summarised themes the Atlanta rapper had been circling for years at that point, layering his slurred, lean-dizzy rhymes over producer TM88's rubbery, melancholy synths. "Take all my problems and drink out the bottle," he moaned robotically, using the track's minor key bounce to represent the crushing delirium that followed fame and its tasting menu of intoxicants. It's still Future's high water mark creatively, and its traces can be observed in a full spectrum of contemporary sounds, from 6LACK's downtrodden, self-aware R&B to Lil Uzi Vert's feverish trap. But it's Yungwebster who's taken the haze to its logical conclusion, reimagining the Magic City-sculpted bumps as hypnagogic Actavis- 'n Xanax-hued ambient music. You could argue it was bound to happen - the more you sip, the slower it gets - and plays as a cracked mirror to cloud rap's long-smoked hybrid of Southern psychedelia and post-OutKast eccentricity.

Webster's opiated POV is clearer than ever before on 'II'. Just peep the cracks in his voice on the Space Afrika-produced opener 'Skyfall' as he coughs and splutters over watery samples, booming subs and SA's patented collage of soundtrack-ready strings and sirens. Presented at regular speed and in chipmunked form, it sets the pace for an album that, like its predecessor, constantly fucks with the timeline, pitching the whole master into doubletime or slowing it down to a crawl to present a curved, inebriated narrative rather than a straight line. Even without the tempo switches, Webster singles out beats that accent his warbled rhymes that sound as if they'll fall apart at any moment. French DJ and producer Nathan Melja backs 'Disheveled' with Black Ark-styled oscillations and airlock'd echoes, filtering the bassline until it almost disappears entirely; with room to breathe, Webster's able to take the lead - you might not be able to pick out the words, not entirely at least, but you get the message.

In fact it's Webster's voice that's the revelation on 'II' - with a coherent mix from producer tnotsobad, the nuances and fluttering tonalities emerge more vividly than they have before. It makes the flip between the regular speed and fast on 'Txts Red on iMessage' a textural decision, the different pace shifting the warbled cadences so Webster's voice becomes far more important than the additional elements. And on the album's Space Afrika-produced eight-minute centerpiece 'Crochet / I Swear', Webster's mumbled bio-mechanical whines create a much-needed foil for the decelerated boom-clack and suspended save room ambience. We get to encounter a personality here, not just an aesthetic, so as the album moves into its twilit fourth side, the beatless, voice-led somniferousness of 'YA SA' and ululating 'Phone' come off like a descent into tranquillised sedation. Rap has rarely sounded so chimeric.

World of Echo unites with the confounding genius of TRii for a highly limited first time vinyl run of 2020's Music For Desert Reboot tape, first released as TRj on the TRjj Musik label and then again as a second cassette by Mascarpone earlier this year.

As with all the sounds produced within the TRjj/TRii /TRj/TRi universe, strange illusion is part of the process, and this is certainly music that befits such smoke and mirror nomenclature, a kind of gamelan Werkbund re-programmed via the isolationist sounds of DIY home electronics conceived for a film that might or might not actually exist. Consider this time-dilation rug-pulling that's well in touch with its own mythology, so much so that it's hard to think of any obvious contemporaries, but if you've ever enjoyed the minimalist murk of Civlistijavel, the private quarters confessionals of Thomas Bush's first LP or any one of Guy Gormley's projects, you'll not got too far wrong here. Is further clarification required? That perhaps misses the point, though there is a track that features around two-thirds in entitled 'First Time Realizing the Clock Was Absent' that might function as a form of instruction to the listener. Namely, where does the time go? Music For Desert Reboot might not provide the answer, but it certainly knows how to ask the question.

Label text:

"Conrad Pack returns to SELN Recordings with a three track EP threading the needle between London sonics and
something beyond.

The primary tracks Praise and Guidance were recorded during the height of the Scram events organised by
Leeway (Guy Gormley), and hosted by the late soundsystem luminary Julian Fairshare at Ormside Projects. The
influence of this period, and in particular of Fairshare himself, on the music is clear; both are stepper-esq, leaning
heavily on London’s musical legacy past and present, whilst still pushing a contemporary sound.

Praise is essentially a Dub track. The percussion and bass are of a familiar steppers nature, with the synths
evoking a true Big Smoke feeling. Although the melody itself wouldn’t sound out of place in a UK Drill number, the
song overall still touches on Industrial and DIY sonics, being all the stronger for doing so.

Guidance follows in solid form. Amongst the driving percussion and staunch bassline, droning pads lock in a dense
mood whilst sparse choral melodies echo throughout. Think Shaka meets Muslimgauze, but recorded in a
Woolwich Office Block.

Grotto was originally produced for the group show “The Grotto” held in January 2021 at Ridley Road Project Space.
Restructuring the track from the original stems, Pack presents a new and enchanted “stereo version” for Praise EP.
Angelic atmospheres flow amongst scattered hi-hats as sporadic Freetekno Kicks reverberate across the void.
Most accurately described as “what Curley in a K Hole might have sounded like”. "

Honour's debut album is a ligament stretching from Lagos to London and to New York, curling across the diaspora and brushing the darker hues of blues, hip-hop, free jazz, ambient, gospel with Christian mythology and Yoruba folklore. As cinematic as it is painterly, Alàáfíà is a meditation on themes of life, death and love that pulls inspiration from the unexpected poetic profundity of casual conversations, field recordings, literature, ephemera, or personal archives. The result is an impressionistic vision in Black and Blur that both exhausts and implicates language_substantiating a mythos proposed by Fred Moten that sublimates boundaries between everywhere and nowhere; history and the present; the individual and the universal. Alàáfíà delineates a gothic landscape cut by overdriven beats, swooping orchestral blasts, choral bursts and ear- splitting fuzz, where the fleshly and spiritual realms commune. Dedicated to Honour's late grandmother, the title track began to take form after their last embrace and remains steeped in her influence and spirit_a tape-saturated composition that starts in Lagos and ends in London's smoke-stained cityscape, the song's dream-like quality developed out of the artist's grief and PTSD coping with this loss. Beneath the stretched guitar drones and stuttering loops, their grandmother's shared faith bubbles to the surface. "When Angels Speak of Love," borrows its title from two works by Sun Ra and bell hooks, respectively. Sculpting echoes of praise music into disorienting spirals perforated with syrupy DJ Screw-inspired breaks and sharp splinters of melancholic guitar, "When Angels Speak of Love" engages a conceptual dialogue with the spirits of both late thinkers, folding them into Honour's pantheon of ancestral guides. The album's ninth track, "Giz Aard ($uckets)," is a dirge of regimented drums which anchor this somber melody as it whirls into a blizzard of heartache, uncertain if its consequence will be death or eternal joy. The album's sole lyrical offering, "Pistol Poem (Lead Belly)," begins with a darkly humorous bar, "He went thru hell and back/ came back/ 2 get the strap," that swells into a haunting allegory based on the life of Philip "Hot Sauce" Champion. A modern take on the Blues, Honour's lyrics reify the artist's status as a student of both literature and popular culture, crossbreeding the artist's clever wordplay with additional references to Richard Pryor, Robert Johnson, Kelly Rowland & Bryon Gysin. Setting core principles of hip-hop, R&B, jazz and gospel music to atemporal soundscapes and compositions, Honour crafts a record that marinates in its own knotty contradictions. The ghosts that sit on the artist's shoulders have never been more tangible than with this emotive debut.

Sticking a dirty thumb in the eye of fate, our third collaboration sees this marrow deep family malarky turn official as Pace Yourself teams up with YS’s own imprint ERF REC for a split release. As if our status as minor celebrities and footnotes of the underground could level off no further: the unification no one asked for is here. Sticking it to the man, handing your arse to ya on plate; cauterising infected suburban minds world over.

Burn is the second YS album and written as a direct follow-up album to Brutal Flowers. If their first album was an exercise in the incremental, a construction of poise and patience, Burn, should be taken way the fuck at it’s word: it quite literally finds catharsis in twisted reverse. Birthed out the malignant kick found in deconstruction and chaos. Evil twin, psychotic younger sibling, call it what the hell you like. It might take you a moment to get the lay of the land in this darkly mutated world. Like a bug eye’d native first confronted with a zippo, the hit is radical and instant: a new way for the world to go up in smoke.

Splice the Seattle slacker scene with the spliffhead soundsystem culture of the 90s Bristol trip-hop scene, then cross-breed that with the DIY optimism and glee in creation found in the cut-and-paste worlds of skate, graffiti and hiphop, now run that through the skitzo basement mind of John.T. Gast and you’re close to the kind of scorched earth and spiked suburbia that birthed Burn.

Dunno quite what YS have been ingesting of late but this massively twisted LP touches on a host of gloriously fucked totemic underground sources while not sounding much like any of them. It has the ballsy swagger and hard flipping of the script as Massive Attack’s seminal Blue Lines. Indeed, the eponymous album tracks sound similar - the opener ‘Burn’ is like a hard nosed jammed out redux of ‘Blue Lines’. Getting into a kind of slow-spinning overdubbed maximal euphoria ending with mumbled downer vocals, struggling to conceal their tongues in their cheeks there’s an air of paranoia and proto-conspiracy theory. It’ll leave you scratching your head, feeling like you’ve stepped into a New World Order governed by a cacophony of drop outs, dope fiends and apocalyptic stoners. A cracked out world somewhere between Richard Linklater’s movie Slacker (1990) and Marc Singer’s Dark Days (2001).

The rest of the album parts like a tongue on a wine glass: Smith and Mighty, Bandulu, ambient Luke Slater records, Wah Wah Wino, Nurse with Wound, Land of the Loops, Placid Angels, Adrian Sherwood, Urban Tribe and DJ Shadow can all be heard in momentary splatters - but Burn like other works by YS, is its own ritual beast. ‘Moth’, a track which has been knocking about the underground deejai circuit for many moons, is a real raw chopped and screwed slice of stoner erotica that reeks of obsession and unrequited desire. Elsewhere, on tracks like ‘Switch’, ‘Trying’ and ‘Drift’ the throughline from Brutal Flowers can be heard. Underneath the driving heavy gravity the trademark emotional intimacies of YS linger: eternal recurrence, ghosts of static and shortwave, worn memories of the playful and painful sort. The brief moments where flashes of orchestral ambience get out from underneath the swagger are so pure, personal and unguarded that for a moment they leave you completely lonesome. In the album’s closer ‘End’, you can hear the fleeting promise and DIY possibilities of an analogue world and embers of ash that flutter in its wake: where it seemed, for a brief moment, that collective of DJs, engineers, rappers, graffiti artists and skate crews were emerging from the streets, giving the middle fingers to the system, before just as quickly disappearing back to the doldrums of obscurity. ‘End’ is a bittersweet ode to early soundsystem culture, MCs and pirate radio - an out of step time where for a moment the underdogs and weirdos seemed to be kicking on the door of something bigger.

A veritable teenage doof suite dosed with desire, claustrophobia and deviance. Burn is a good old howl at the moon: lonely, raw, and out for blood; basement style exegesis at its best. A thump to the gut, a stud through your blood. A dubbed-to-death classic straight out of the annals of nowhere. A perfect post card from oblivion. A bleak, bold and personally ferocious vision of tomorrow and tomorrow and tomorrow.

This is everything that record collectors skip dates for. Fuck the scene and keep that shit underground. That’s what it is all about. Know what I mean, if you do? You’re in…

Gastr del Sol"s second album returns at last to the vinyl format - its first physical manifestation in well over a decade. Once again, a drop of the needle may ignite any number of queries, summed simply in one: What IS this music? Such is the potent energy of Crookt, Crackt, or Fly, retaining its otherworldly qualities some 32 years and countless musical movements since. Crookt, Crackt, or Fly expands upon The Serpentine Similar"s minimalist stance in unexpected ways, imposing further austerity in the soundscape but for an unpredictable expansive quantity periodically overflowing, waves of blood sluicing through the elevator doors. This is partially due to a change within the group dynamic: the departure of bassist Ken "Bundy" Brown and the arrival of a new partner for guitarist and singer David Grubbs - guitarist and sound fuckerer Jim O"Rourke. O"Rourke"s initial work with Gastr involved editing and recomposing recordings of the Grubbs-Brown-&-sometimes-John-McEntire lineup, producing an utterly outré collage of cut-ups and other types of tape processing. This became the "20 Songs Less" single, after which he was invited to play with the group. It was a time of flux; Brown recalls playing a Gastr show at the Metro around this time featuring himself, John McEntire, Grubbs and O"Rourke - and one of the pieces played was a Tortoise song! Throughout these shifts, Gastr del Sol"s music was never less than fully considered and composed, even in moments redolent with the suggestion of the random and the non-sequitur. Grubbs and O"Rourke made no attempt to replicate Serpentine"s arrangement of thick, scaly drones and hypnotic song-visions in their own partnership, finding Crookt, Crackt,"s sound instead in spiny, gamelan-like interactions between their (mostly acoustic) guitars, played precisely in and out of formation with bright, fleet-fingered abandon. O"Rourke"s fondness for field recordings and his capacity for tape manipulation intersected with Grubbs" sensibilities, edifying his evolving song style: written with increased sharpness and sly surreal humor, sung closer to silence. Halfway into "Work from Smoke", the sudden collapse of the sound-walls around us signals Crookt, Crackt"s major departure. From the thicket of guitars, a swell of drones and free-jazz squeals, made up of bass clarinet, vibraphone and organ, pulls the listener into an entirely other acoustic space. "Every Five Miles" derails in similarly tactile fashion: a guitar duet boils up thunderously, then fragments and spirals apart. As a free electric guitar part crops up, improbably holding the center, the acoustic space around it continues to disintegrate in ambient stereo. A wedding of folk music idioms to classical, improvised and modern compositional modes (including Gastr"s own formative post-punk mode), Crookt, Crackt, or Fly is a song-based reality steadily giving way to its alternative alchemies playing out within.

Jackpot Records is extremely proud to announce our re-issue of the revered reggae album 1976’s War Ina Babylon by Max Romeo & The Upsetters. Originally released on Island Records, the album is considered one of the greatest Reggae albums of all time and was a massive influence on the UK punk movement that was just starting to bubble to the surface.
The record’s incredible power belies an unlikely partnership between one of the world’s greatest producers (and experimenters in sound), Lee “Scratch” Perry, and vocalist Max Romeo (who by 1976 had performed on over 120 7” singles) Romeo had been transforming from his “rude” records to writing lyrics with social themes as the era in Jamaica was rife with poverty, gangs, and politically motivated killings. As he was looking to produce protest music at its most powerful alongside music that would never leave the listener’s souls, Lee Perry and Max Romeo started collaborating together.
Recorded in two weeks in 1976, utilizing Lee Perry’s kitchen sink production, War Ina Babylon is considered part of Lee Perry’s ‘holy trinity’ Black Ark produced LPs released by Island
Records (Junior Murvin’s Police and Thieves and The Heptones’ Party Time being the other classics LPs in the trinity), this LP continues to find new fans with every passing generation.

With his honeyed falsetto, Horace Andy has long been considered one of roots reggae's most inimitable voices. His signature tune, "Skylarking," is one of a handful of songs that can be instantly recognized by even the most casual of reggae fans. Making his debut with producer and mentor Phil Pratt at the age of sixteen, Andy's expressive vocal style is immediately distinctive, bearing the soulful influence of American artists Otis Redding and Smokey Robinson as well as fellow countryman Alton Ellis.

1975's Get Wise collects a series of singles produced by Pratt including versions of hits "Money, Money" ("Root Of All Evil") and "Zion Gate" ("I Don't Want To Be Outside"). Recorded between 1972 and 1974, these sides were captured at legendary studios Channel One, Black Ark, Dynamic Sound and Randy's Studio 17 with house engineers Ernest Hoo Kim, Lee Perry, Carlton Lee and Errol Thompson at the helm.

Originally released on Pratt's Sunshot label, the album doubles as a showcase for The Soul Syndicate Band, a typically ad-hoc session group which featured Sly & Robbie, Aston "Family Man" Barrett and Earl "Chinna" Smith, among others.

Get Wise delivers ten tracks of Andy's finest material and should be in the collection of any aficionado of the classic '70s Kingston sound. Liner notes by JR Gonne.