Buscar:sound source

First released on August 18, 2023, "Outline of Nature" started as an experiment in building a modular synthesizer system and ended up as a voltage controlled outpouring of love for the natural world. Sylvan-born and pastoral-powered, sap-blooded and lightning-charged, this album grew out of the damp florescent corners of the woods, each note and sound, a fractal extension of their seedling sounds. It was nurtured into being at The Twilight Research Centre, a studio facility situated on the border of Somerset and Dorset. During Covid lockdown 1.0, I spent the outdoor hours we were permitted, wandering through the centre's surroundings, in the green lanes, woodlands and corridors of the wilds with their wary and flickering inhabitants, beneath the distant eyes of the soaring buzzards and the hulking red kites. I didn't expect it, but it was in the quiet, ferociously vibrant dens of nature, that I found a deeply profound connection with the natural world. It once again made sense to feel as much a part of the woods as the trees were; I felt like a natural entity in its habitat again, not something I'd properly felt since running wild through the gullies, dells and fells of the Midlands as a child. And I became afflicted with a powerful urge to build strange electronic sound systems that were organic, chaotic, fractal and in some way reflective of the awesome natural systems that surround us and surround the centre. I plugged in the modular, and went searching for signs of life. Adding to this, just before the lockdowns, I stumbled across a three volume nature encyclopedia in a local charity shop, called "Outline of Nature in the British Isles" by Sir John Hammerton. The sub-heading reads "A Comprehensive Photo-Survey of the Varied Life of Field and Hedgerow, Moor and Mountain, River, Pond and Sea", and it's a stunning collection of grainy photographs, beautiful illustrations and wondrously poetic writing, some of which inspired track titles and of course, the album title. I also rekindled my love of Ladybird nature books such as the "What to Look for in Spring/Summer/Autumn/Winter" series, "Birds and How They Live" and "Butterflies, Moths and Other Insects", rebuilding a small collection I had as a child and discovering numerous volumes new to me. Between the two literary sources, I had a rich well of imagery, writing and pastoral nostalgia to draw from; and coupled with the extended sessions of blissing out in my own heavily ecstatic awe descended on me in the sheer grandness of the wilderness, I set about enticing out of the woods an album of phosphorescent electrical music, abundant with comparatively microscopic, but persistent and wild life-forces.

Strut Records proudly presents the official reissue of Hidden Fire Volumes 1 & 2, the final album released by Sun Ra on his El Saturn label in 1988.
Captured live over three nights at the Knitting Factory in New York City, these performances mark the closing chapter of a 33-year odyssey of radical, independent music-making. Originally issued in tiny quantities with minimal packaging and cryptic artwork—often featuring hand-written labels or Ra’s own handmade designs—Hidden Fire was among the most elusive entries in Sun Ra’s vast discography.
Musically, these recordings stand apart from Ra’s other '80s compositions. Here, Hidden Fire plunges into darker, more dissonant territory. Ra performs exclusively on the Yamaha DX7 synthesiser, pushing its digital sound palette into alien dimensions. The Arkestra lineup is uniquely configured, featuring a rare and heavy string section with three violins, including the legendary Billy Bang, and the singular space vocalist Art Jenkins, whose eerie textures and vocalisations had not been heard so prominently since the early 1960s Choreographers Workshop sessions. The music is raw, unsettled, and often overwhelming.
“Retrospect / This World Is Not My Home” opens with a palindromic riff that evokes Ellington before unraveling into a stark sermon from Ra, warning of death’s dominion over Earth-bound minds. “Hidden Fire Improvisation” is a furious explosion of tone science, with Marshall Allen, Billy Bang, and John Gilmore delivering fire-breathing solos over relentless drumming and Ra’s cascading synth clusters. “Hidden Fire Blues” offers a warped, electrified version of Ra’s familiar blues feature, led by Bruce Edwards on guitar and Rollo Radford on electric bass, transformed through the haze of DX7 textures. “My Brothers The Wind And Sun #9” evokes the experimental weight of The Heliocentric Worlds with its crashing percussion, pulsing synth-vocal duets, and string- driven chaos that seems to spiral into oblivion.
Even the quieter moments—such as “Hidden Fire II,” a duet between Ra and Art Jenkins—feel thick with unease and shadowy beauty. These performances represent a Sun Ra less concerned with cosmic joy or outer-space swing, and more focused on conjuring portals to the unknown.
Remastered from original sources and presented with archival photos, new liner notes by Paul Griffiths, and restored artwork inspired by the original Saturn editions, this reissue offers a definitive window into the last creative surge of one of music’s most visionary figures across two Vinyl LP’s.

Give It Up Or Turnit a Loose (Edit) by James Brown b/w Web (Edit) by Hampton Hughes / Give It Up or Turnit a Loose (Bonus Breaks) by James Brown| Galaxy Sound Company — GSC45-044, test pressing | The long-running @galaxy_sound_company imprint has been responsible for some superb re-edits over the years, most of which are pleasingly purist in tone — meaning they are pro rearrangements with no added effects but & needless new beats or cheap trickery like so many out there— making any of their releases cop-on-site. & as you can hear from the test pressing, the 44th in the stellar series delivers yet again.

Side A is a masterclass in breakbeat editing of a b-boy classic sample source. Yes, there are many killer JB edits out in the universe, but when you see that the legendary Black Cash & Theo AKA Thelonious Beats take a turn, you know you gotta cop this mutha on site. Here the edit master bravely returns to one of the main sources of the dawn of hip-hop — JB’s comp “In The Jungle Groove” which was released in 1986 to capitalize on it’s popularity in the genre at the time. The comp is named for a breakdown section that appears in “Give It Up Or Turnit a Loose” which is the workout we have here. JB quiets the band down to handclaps, footstomps & congas played by Johnny Griggs. After he raps a little, JB cues legendary drummer Clyde Stubblefield back in, followed by bassist Bootsy Collins & the rest of the band. JB wasn’t intentionally trying to create a perfect batch of hip-hop samples in the late 60s & early 70s, but he couldn’t have succeeded any better if he had been. This edit may enter well-worn territory but he uniquely delivers an edit that showcases why it inspired so many & still delivers the goods to help you get your party started off right & quickly.

Next up on the flipside we are treated to an edit of “Web” by Hampton Hughes, from his 1974 David Axelrod produced & arranged album “Northern Windows”. Heads will recall it as the core sample for “Off the Record” by Hieroglyphics, from the 1998 LP “3rd Eye Vision”. This jazz-funk burner features a stellar line-up:
Piano/keyboards = Hawes
Trumpet = Allen DeRienzo, Snooky Young
Trombone = George Bohanon
Sax/flute = Jackie Kelso, Jay Migliori, William Green
Electric Bass = Carol Kaye
Drums = Spider Webb

But wait, GSC ain’t done yet! We get some bonus beats from the A-side. Another reason why doubles are highly recommended when you need assistance in your set.

Flags Are Walls is the latest release from an enigmatic electronic duo based in Barcelona. "Universal Comfort"

The album explores the boundaries of contemporary electronic music, blending synthetic and organic sounds, layering analogue and digital sources, where abstract and concrete elements shift in and out of focus.

Boundaries are not only physical-shaping how we experience time and space-but also emotional, framing the sense of place we attach to them. The tracks play with these flimsy, and uncertain intersections, exploring expression and perception through evolving, haunting and diffused sonic landscapes.

“'Lyceum' is a fountainhead of unqualified greatness. It’s a strange, sad sound harking back to old school tunesmanship – Aztec Camera, ‘Rattlesnakes’, prime-time Felt – but the whole affair is permeated with a resonant, almost tearful quality. ‘Lyceum’ is reminiscent of Galaxie 500’s ‘Today’ in that it sounds like it cost less than a round of drinks to produce. But the lo fi sound merely enhances the misty glazed-pop sound and raises the hallelujah choruses to the forefront. Rather than drowning them in production mush. Don’t pass it by”.
– Bob Stanley, Melody Maker 1989
Hailing from the suburbs of Glasgow, this five-piece are best known for their three starry-eyed albums on the renowned Sarah Records - this being an expanded version of their first (an eight-track 10” at the time).
By the tail end of the 1980s the independent music scene in the UK was turning its back on the polish and over-indulgence of the mid-80s with its gated drums and wallpaper production. And those who weren’t stretching the boundaries of sonic innovation had tuned back to the post-punk ethos of ramshackle charm and zealous melody, even dousing the spirit with some political fervour once more. Influences were more likely to be Television and the Television Personalities than MTV.
The Orchids and The Sea Urchins were the first two bands to release 7” singles on the Sarah label having previously begun their recording existence on a shared flexi disc in 1987 (The Sea Urchins went on to become Delta, whose classic album ‘Slippin' Out’ from 2000 will be the second release on Circuitry). The Scottish five-piece released ‘I’ve Got a Habit’ and ‘Underneath the Window, Underneath the Sink’ as EPs before really finding their feet with ‘Lyceum’; the tracks, remastered from the original Toad Hall tapes are included on this reissue as are the three songs from the ‘What Will We Do Next?’ 7” (this collection closes with the frazzled stretch that is ‘Yawn’). 'Lyceum' was originally released in August 1989.
The album opens with ‘It’s Only Obvious’ and its gloriously youthful chorus of “who needs tomorrow when all I need, all I needed was you”. James Hackett somehow appears both forthright and rejected, something that one of their musical heroes The Go-Betweens also had down to a fine art. It barely takes a breath until midway through side two where ‘Hold On’ (sounding suspiciously like an unlikely objective) descends into the intro of ‘Blue Light’, the counted-in ‘1, 2, 3, 4’ whispered like the most hopelessly dejected rally. If that sounds depressing it isn’t. This record by The Orchids was a spirited source of comfort for an 18 year old at the time and still shudders with the best type of melancholy, one that’s spirited not indulgent. If you’re not familiar with the band’s charm, this is where you should begin.
'Lyceum' is released on double black vinyl by new label Circuitry.

In the smoggy orange light of a new millennium, the young Deb Demure would take the bus, once a week, from his home in crumbling Hollywood to his grandmother's apartment, nestled in the pastel pristineness of Beverly Hills. During these visits, Deb couldn't help but notice the disconnect between the glow of his grandmother's temple, and the downtrodden, alienated figures that populated the seats of the mass transit that took him there. Week after week, he would observe these characters: fading B-movie starlets, leisure-suited alcoholics and forgotten civil servants. But one fateful commute home, as the twilight waned to the purple Los Angeles night, he realized these figures were not as lost as they appeared - there was a nobility in their failure, reflective of the dignity of the city's vanishing golden era. They were survivors, in need of a voice: a spokesperson for every color of hope and hopelessness, transcendent of gender and time; Drab Majesty became Deb's musical podium for this undertaking. Raised in a music-centric household, Deb would find the time to teach himself to play his father's right-handed guitar upside down and left-handed; an unorthodox fashion from where his earliest understanding of chords and harmony were conceived. Exploring the bins of discarded vinyl in his neighborhood thrift stores, his toolkit expanded with the subterranean sonic gems of the recent past. Influences range from the virtuosic arpeggiated guitar work of Felt's Maurice Deebank and the grittier pop progressions of Red Lorry Yellow Lorry's Chris Reed as well as Steve Severin from Siouxsie and The Banshees. He also studied the harmonic oscillations and utilization of the occult power of vibratory frequency present in New Age sounds of Greek artist, IASOS. In terms of orchestration, he consciously culls from the seaside maximalism of Martin Dupont and mechanized grooves of early Depeche Mode. Like a dualistic pendulum, his vocals swing from a preistly baritone to a choir boy's falsetto reflecting the sepulchral ambiance of church visits with his grandmother. Currently the drummer for Los Angeles lo-fi rock ensemble Marriages and having honed an unorthodox home recording style, Deb sources his sounds from a repository of "mid-fi" synthesizers and other lesser-quality instruments. Following the release of his debut cassette EP, "Unarian Dances", he also shared a split 12" with synth pop forefathers, Eleven Pond. During the Spring of 2015, Drab Majesty signed with Dais Records and released his first single, Unknown to the I, as a introduction for his first initial foray into the album format, romantically titled Careless. Written over the course of 2 years, "Careless" is a compendium of songs that have outlasted a malicious burglary of his studio, his struggles with substance addiction, and most recently, the death of his beloved grandmother.

In the smoggy orange light of a new millennium, the young Deb Demure would take the bus, once a week, from his home in crumbling Hollywood to his grandmother's apartment, nestled in the pastel pristineness of Beverly Hills. During these visits, Deb couldn't help but notice the disconnect between the glow of his grandmother's temple, and the downtrodden, alienated figures that populated the seats of the mass transit that took him there. Week after week, he would observe these characters: fading B-movie starlets, leisure-suited alcoholics and forgotten civil servants. But one fateful commute home, as the twilight waned to the purple Los Angeles night, he realized these figures were not as lost as they appeared - there was a nobility in their failure, reflective of the dignity of the city's vanishing golden era. They were survivors, in need of a voice: a spokesperson for every color of hope and hopelessness, transcendent of gender and time; Drab Majesty became Deb's musical podium for this undertaking. Raised in a music-centric household, Deb would find the time to teach himself to play his father's right-handed guitar upside down and left-handed; an unorthodox fashion from where his earliest understanding of chords and harmony were conceived. Exploring the bins of discarded vinyl in his neighborhood thrift stores, his toolkit expanded with the subterranean sonic gems of the recent past. Influences range from the virtuosic arpeggiated guitar work of Felt's Maurice Deebank and the grittier pop progressions of Red Lorry Yellow Lorry's Chris Reed as well as Steve Severin from Siouxsie and The Banshees. He also studied the harmonic oscillations and utilization of the occult power of vibratory frequency present in New Age sounds of Greek artist, IASOS. In terms of orchestration, he consciously culls from the seaside maximalism of Martin Dupont and mechanized grooves of early Depeche Mode. Like a dualistic pendulum, his vocals swing from a preistly baritone to a choir boy's falsetto reflecting the sepulchral ambiance of church visits with his grandmother. Currently the drummer for Los Angeles lo-fi rock ensemble Marriages and having honed an unorthodox home recording style, Deb sources his sounds from a repository of "mid-fi" synthesizers and other lesser-quality instruments. Following the release of his debut cassette EP, "Unarian Dances", he also shared a split 12" with synth pop forefathers, Eleven Pond. During the Spring of 2015, Drab Majesty signed with Dais Records and released his first single, Unknown to the I, as a introduction for his first initial foray into the album format, romantically titled Careless. Written over the course of 2 years, "Careless" is a compendium of songs that have outlasted a malicious burglary of his studio, his struggles with substance addiction, and most recently, the death of his beloved grandmother.

Bendik Giske’s Beatrice Dillon-produced 2023 album gets an addendum with reworks from Carmen Villain, aya, Hanne Lippard, Hieroglyphic Being, Wacław Zimpel and Dillon herself.

Giske’s clearly got his ear to the ground; his last remix record was an invitation for Laurel Halo to put her stamp on »Cruising«, while 2018’s »Adjust EP« roped in Deathprod, Total Freedom, Lotic, and Rezzett. Now comes this new LP of remixes and it’s one of the best we’ve heard in aeons. Carmen Villain boots things off with a remix of »Slipping«, following her excellent (and way, way too underrated) »Nutrition EP« with a giddy, subtle roller that sounds as if it’s been constructed using only Giske’s raw stems. His breaths and leathery key presses – already amped up by Dillon’s detailed recording – are magicked into a dubby concrète groove that’s enhanced with the sparest melodic elements: echoing rainforest-at-night horn blasts, and lopped off decay trails that help fuel the momentum.

aya’s revision of the same track takes a different approach, forming forceful overlapping polyrhythms from Giske’s clanks, using the gamelan-like arpeggios for melodic weight and repetition. The result is a constantly shifting, hypnotic trancer that’s achingly organic – more Raja Kirik than Paul Van Dyke. Polish clarinetist and producer Wacław Zimpel, meanwhile, supplements his trippy recent collaboration with James Holden on a similarly levitational wrinkle of »Slipping« that twists Giske’s quivering sequences with microtonal synth prangs, and gusty echoes. But it’s Jamal Moss who plays fastest and loosest with Giske’s source material, calling back to April’s psy-house stunner »Dance Music 4 Bad People« with a powdery, sexualised banger that buries the breathy »Start« stems underneath neon synths, and brittle drum loops.

»I’m a digital nomad,« Lippard deadpans over Giske’s »Not Yet«. »I’m addicted you know that.« It’s a typically dry treatment from the conceptual artist that unexpectedly amps up the hypnotic qualities of Giske’s original, adding her circuitous charm to his concertina-ing sax sequences. And to tie things up perfectly, Beatrice Dillon returns with her diaphanous remix of »Rise and Fall«, built to emphasise the radically different approaches of each artist.

Ken Jacobs, an essential figure of avant-garde cinema, developed the »Nervous Magic Lantern« in the 1960s — a self-made apparatus containing a spinning shutter, a light source, and lenses set in a wooden frame. Hand-painted circular slides, gently moved by hand, produce flickering imagery: geometric patterns, Rorschach-like inkblots, and three-dimensional forms that seem to float beyond the screen. These hallucinatory visions challenge perception and suggest what Jacobs once called »a whole new play of appearances«.

Unlike Jacobs’ politically charged works, the »Nervous Magic Lantern« is patently abstract, examining how the brain regulates perception. For these performances, Jacobs requested »sounds of daily life« — environmental recordings that anchor the phantasmagoria in reality. Field tapes of Chinatown streets, conversations, and other uncategorisable sounds became the material for Aki Onda’s sonic compositions, adding narrative resonance to the abstract visuals and creating an almost documentary dimension.

This album documents a performance of »Nervous Magic Lantern« at Spiral Hall, organised by Sound Live Tokyo on November 3, 2015. Jacobs’ selection and sequencing of slides offered improvisatory space, mirrored by Onda’s flexible arrangement of cassette recordings. The result is a work where life and art dissolve into one another — a soundtrack for life in the depth of illusion.

Music by Aki Onda Cassette field recordings by Ken Jacobs

Lucas Chantre, aka WORLD BRAIN, last graced us with a solo release half a decade ago, with 2019’s Peer 2 Peer. As its name suggests, that album explored the promise and perils of universal connectivity via quirked-up songwriting and instrumental psychedelia. His new release, Open Source, deepens this internal and external journey. Bursting beyond the four walls of ‘bedroom pop’ and reflecting a move from Berlin to Paris—where much of the album was recorded—and on to Brussels, the album has a jazzy, cinematic scope (as on the Brubeck-inspired march “Fromage collatéral,”) enveloping the listener in a cosmic-pastoral audiosphere.

There are still many tones that evoke the software sounds of decades past (the exemplar here is “cAPTCHA,” whose virtual marimba and vocalese suggest a breathless, Exotica-inspired introduction .mov for the information superhighway) but the palette has become richer and more organic, lead by the woodwinds which play a major role throughout, with flute provided by labelmate Martha Rose. (On the aforementioned “cAPTCHA” one also hears the world-class whistling talents of the incomparable Molly Lewis.)

Yet the single most noticeable new element may be the use of Chantre’s native French, sung by his sister on “Ville fleurie” and the gorgeous, fluttering “Minute papillion” (the title an idiomatic injunction to slow down!) Chantre initially wrote these lyrics in English, but felt something wasn’t quite right, only realizing what was off when he heard them sung in another language. That spirit of discovery – of finding a new spark in returning home – suffuses Open Source. It invites us to play, beckons us to relax, reminds us to find serenity amidst the churn of the present: minute papillon, dans le tourbillon.

In the smoggy orange light of a new millennium, the young Deb Demure would take the bus, once a week, from his home in crumbling Hollywood to his grandmother's apartment, nestled in the pastel pristineness of Beverly Hills. During these visits, Deb couldn't help but notice the disconnect between the glow of his grandmother's temple, and the downtrodden, alienated figures that populated the seats of the mass transit that took him there. Week after week, he would observe these characters: fading B-movie starlets, leisure-suited alcoholics and forgotten civil servants. But one fateful commute home, as the twilight waned to the purple Los Angeles night, he realized these figures were not as lost as they appeared - there was a nobility in their failure, reflective of the dignity of the city's vanishing golden era. They were survivors, in need of a voice: a spokesperson for every color of hope and hopelessness, transcendent of gender and time; Drab Majesty became Deb's musical podium for this undertaking. Raised in a music-centric household, Deb would find the time to teach himself to play his father's right-handed guitar upside down and left-handed; an unorthodox fashion from where his earliest understanding of chords and harmony were conceived. Exploring the bins of discarded vinyl in his neighborhood thrift stores, his toolkit expanded with the subterranean sonic gems of the recent past. Influences range from the virtuosic arpeggiated guitar work of Felt's Maurice Deebank and the grittier pop progressions of Red Lorry Yellow Lorry's Chris Reed as well as Steve Severin from Siouxsie and The Banshees. He also studied the harmonic oscillations and utilization of the occult power of vibratory frequency present in New Age sounds of Greek artist, IASOS. In terms of orchestration, he consciously culls from the seaside maximalism of Martin Dupont and mechanized grooves of early Depeche Mode. Like a dualistic pendulum, his vocals swing from a preistly baritone to a choir boy's falsetto reflecting the sepulchral ambiance of church visits with his grandmother. Currently the drummer for Los Angeles lo-fi rock ensemble Marriages and having honed an unorthodox home recording style, Deb sources his sounds from a repository of "mid-fi" synthesizers and other lesser-quality instruments. Following the release of his debut cassette EP, "Unarian Dances", he also shared a split 12" with synth pop forefathers, Eleven Pond. During the Spring of 2015, Drab Majesty signed with Dais Records and released his first single, Unknown to the I, as a introduction for his first initial foray into the album format, romantically titled Careless. Written over the course of 2 years, "Careless" is a compendium of songs that have outlasted a malicious burglary of his studio, his struggles with substance addiction, and most recently, the death of his beloved grandmother.

Miles Davis' Final Collaboration with Arranger Gil Evans Yields Watershed Innovations: Flamenco-Themed Sketches of Spain Spins Graceful Webs of Sound and Emotion Mobile Fidelity's UltraDisc One-Step 180g 33RPM LP Set Brings Out the Record's Full Spectrum of Color: 65th Anniversary Edition Pressed at Fidelity Record Pressing and Strictly Limited to 5,000 Numbered Copies 1/4" / 15 IPS analogue master to DSD 64 to analogue console to lathe Miles Davis and Gil Evans bridged styles and collaborated on high-concept projects three different times during their celebrated careers. For their final act, they created Sketches of Spain, a peak moment in each luminary's legacy.

The transformative album weds Spanish themes, lush orchestrations, romantic timbres, and Davis' lyrical methods in a tender ceremony that resonates more than six decades after its original release. Part of Mobile Fidelity's Miles Davis restoration series, this 1960 landmark has been afforded the ultimate white-gloves treatment for its 65th anniversary. Sourced from the original master tapes, strictly limited to 5,000 numbered copies, and pressed at Fidelity Record Pressing, this UltraDisc One-Step 33RPM 180g LP set dramatically expands the soundstages and eradicates a dryness that many critics found inhibitive to the record's enjoyment. You can now hear the full-range responsiveness of the woodwinds, strings, and percussion, all of which come alive with superior definition and detail.

The beautiful presentation of this UD1S set befits the record's historical importance. Housed in a deluxe slipcase, it features a special foil-stamped jacket and faithful-to-the-original graphics that illuminate the splendor of the 1960 LP. This reissue is made for discerning listeners who desire to fully immerse themselves with the album. And who wouldn't want to go deep with Sketches of Spain? Whether it is the somber mood piece "Concierto de Aranjuez," renowned for Davis' flugelhorn performance, or the folktale-based "Solea," Sketches of Spain transfixes with playing, ideas, and innovations exclusive to this incomparable effort. It's one reason why Mobile Fidelity's engineers took all available measures to insert listeners into the space originally occupied by Davis, bassist Paul Chambers, drummer Jimmy Cobb, percussionist Elvin Jones, and an 18-piece orchestra. The results are as breathtaking as the music.

Multi-note motifs, brief improvisational solos, fanfare sweeps, and contrapuntal exchanges inform flamenco-spiced pieces. Davis' famous Harmon-muted trumpet is complemented by an assortment of bassoons and French horns. Heard together, they create pleasing contrasts and sounds (pp, mf, ppp) that get to what resides at the heart of Sketches of Spain: color. Seldom, if ever, did Davis ever so expressively and liberally paint with color. And in Evans, he has a likewise-minded partner to help draw out tones, shades, layers, and textures. What they achieved continues to draw praise from the global music community in the 21st century. Ranked #358 on Rolling Stone's 500 Greatest Albums of All Time, deemed "a work of unparalleled grace and lyricism" by noted scribe J.D. Considine, bestowed a five-star review from DownBeat, and noted by Q to have taken "jazz in a new direction," the Grammy Award-winning effort has never been better.Miles Davis' Final Collaboration with Arranger Gil Evans Yields Watershed Innovations: Flamenco-Themed Sketches of Spain Spins Graceful Webs of Sound and Emotion Mobile Fidelity's UltraDisc One-Step 180g 33RPM LP Set Brings Out the Record's Full Spectrum of Color: 65th Anniversary Edition Pressed at Fidelity Record Pressing and Strictly Limited to 5,000 Numbered Copies 1/4" / 15 IPS analogue master to DSD 64 to analogue console to lathe Miles Davis and Gil Evans bridged styles and collaborated on high-concept projects three different times during their celebrated careers.

For their final act, they created Sketches of Spain, a peak moment in each luminary's legacy. The transformative album weds Spanish themes, lush orchestrations, romantic timbres, and Davis' lyrical methods in a tender ceremony that resonates more than six decades after its original release. Part of Mobile Fidelity's Miles Davis restoration series, this 1960 landmark has been afforded the ultimate white-gloves treatment for its 65th anniversary. Sourced from the original master tapes, strictly limited to 5,000 numbered copies, and pressed at Fidelity Record Pressing, this UltraDisc One-Step 33RPM 180g LP set dramatically expands the soundstages and eradicates a dryness that many critics found inhibitive to the record's enjoyment. You can now hear the full-range responsiveness of the woodwinds, strings, and percussion, all of which come alive with superior definition and detail. The beautiful presentation of this UD1S set befits the record's historical importance. Housed in a deluxe slipcase, it features a special foil-stamped jacket and faithful-to-the-original graphics that illuminate the splendor of the 1960 LP.

This reissue is made for discerning listeners who desire to fully immerse themselves with the album. And who wouldn't want to go deep with Sketches of Spain? Whether it is the somber mood piece "Concierto de Aranjuez," renowned for Davis' flugelhorn performance, or the folktale-based "Solea," Sketches of Spain transfixes with playing, ideas, and innovations exclusive to this incomparable effort. It's one reason why Mobile Fidelity's engineers took all available measures to insert listeners into the space originally occupied by Davis, bassist Paul Chambers, drummer Jimmy Cobb, percussionist Elvin Jones, and an 18-piece orchestra. The results are as breathtaking as the music. Multi-note motifs, brief improvisational solos, fanfare sweeps, and contrapuntal exchanges inform flamenco-spiced pieces. Davis' famous Harmon-muted trumpet is complemented by an assortment of bassoons and French horns. Heard together, they create pleasing contrasts and sounds (pp, mf, ppp) that get to what resides at the heart of Sketches of Spain: color. Seldom, if ever, did Davis ever so expressively and liberally paint with color. And in Evans, he has a likewise-minded partner to help draw out tones, shades, layers, and textures. What they achieved continues to draw praise from the global music community in the 21st century. Ranked #358 on Rolling Stone's 500 Greatest Albums of All Time, deemed "a work of unparalleled grace and lyricism" by noted scribe J.D. Considine, bestowed a five-star review from DownBeat, and noted by Q to have taken "jazz in a new direction," the Grammy Award-winning effort has never been better.

Old-time and traditional music stay exciting for their contrasts. Exacting instrumentation honed through mentorships and late-night jams at fiddler's conventions tangles with a community-sourced inventiveness that influences variants and new sounds. Joseph Decosimo is a master of this genre for this very reason, blending deep technique with an openness and curiosity that keep his music crackling with life. A "marvelous fiddler" (No Depression) and banjo player who braids "exultation and veneration" (INDY Week) into his music, on his third solo album Fiery Gizzard Decosimo gathers a close-knit ensemble of friends from his musical career to infuse his interpretations of fiddle and banjo pieces with a contagious communal joy. As an artist working with traditional music from the South and Appalachia, Decosimo chooses songs based not only on historical significance and lineage but also his own sensory approach. For Fiery Gizzard, his ear was tuned to otherworldly tones and mystery, sourcing from field recordings such as Virginia fiddler Luther Davis' hypnotic version of "Shady Grove" while amping up the music's psychedelic potential. On the middle Tennessee banjo composition "Flowery Girls," a VHS of bluesman Abner Jay inspired Decosimo to rig up a pickup inside a fretless banjo and play it thr ough a tube amp to capture some of Jay's edge and funkiness. But to round out the sound and keep it kinetic meant galvanizing a genre-eschewing crew to jam out - and not in a "spaced-out drooly" kind of way, he laughs, but as a sort of "responsive conversation." Decosimo has always been a community-minded artist. He began playing as a seventh graderin Tennessee, fostering relationships with older players at jams and in homes, a learning mode natural to his inquisitive nature and desire for musical connection. A folklorist by intuition, he later became one by profession, studying with old-time legend Clyde Davenport, teaching in East Tennessee State University's renowned bluegrass program, and receiving his PhD at the University of North Carolina with a dissertation titled "Catching the `Wild Note': Listening, Learning, and Connoisseurship in Old-Time Music." In North Carolina, Decosimo kicked about in the verdant environment of Durham and Chapel Hill's folk and indie scenes, collaborating with artists including Alice Gerrard, Hiss Golden Messenger, and Jake Xerxes Fussell. This community has influenced his own music, including his "sublime and strangely heartening" (Bandcamp Daily) 2022 release While You Were Slumbering and Beehive Cathedral, Decosimo's 2024 "Appalachian mountain music treasury" (New Commute) trio album with Luke Richardson and Cleek Schrey for Dear Life Records. Continuing on this path, Fiery Gizzard is home base for a loose outfit of mostly Tarheel-based musicians from within and beyond traditional music. Inspired by a tour with fiddler Stephanie Coleman (Nora Brown), guitarist Jay Hammond, and synth builder and multi-instrumentalist Matthew O'Connell, Decosimo assembled studiomates based on close friendships and comfort. Coleman, O'Connell, and Hammond contribute to Fiery Gizzard, along with bassist and producer Andy Stack (Helado Negro, Wye Oak), horn player Kelly Pratt (Beirut, David Byrne), Mipso and Fust's Libby Rodenbough, Joseph O'Connell (Elephant Micah), andtrad/experimental artist Cleek Schrey. Decosimo's fiddle and banjo work is virtuosic, intricate and simple simultaneously, a testament to his many years of study. On some tracks, his playing or lovely, plain-hearted singing is the centerpiece, such as on his interpretations of Texan street preacher Washington Phillips' 1929 recording "I Had a Good Father and Mother" or the Eastern Kentucky fiddle barn-burner "Glory in the Meetinghouse," famously played by Luther Strong for Alan Lomax. But there's also a trusting open-door policy, like where Southern Appalachian tune "Ida Red" relaxes into Coleman's sweet, confident fiddling and Hammond's loping guitar. As a bandleader, Decosimo's confidence and enthusiasm for the music reveal the heart of traditional music and how it can come to life through community. Fiery Gizzard is Joseph Decosimo as a powerful champion of traditional music - a sponge who soaks up as much as he squeezes out, a responsive artist who makes his genre accessible, and a magnet who can bring musicians of all sorts into his orbit with his same passion.

Hugely prolific American ambient artist and analogue drone don zake is back once again with some new re-imaginings of works from a wide range of artists from glitch-pop to post-rock. His singular sound is imprinted on all of the source material which becomes defined by dusty texture and frayed edges as he layers up immersive, meditative soundscapes such as highlights like a haunting take on Beno�t Pioulard's 'Xaipe,' the luminous 'Nicotiana Suite' with Pausal and a poignant reshaping of Inquiri's 'They Come Around.' Each remix reflects zake's deep respect for the originals while also adding something wholly his own.

Second album from North East indie rockers Fortitude Valley! "We're still very much the same band," says Fortitude Valley's Laura Kovic, describing the band's triumphant return with second album Part Of The Problem, Baby. "But the dials have all just been turned up a bit." That much is immediately apparent from the off - whereas 2021's self-titled debut was a breezily charming coalescence of effortless pop hooks and indie-punk energy, this new effort announces itself with guts and a road-earned sense of self-confidence. It's the sound of a band growing into itself; with a smartly effervescent approach to songwriting and a seemingly inexhaustible supply of swoon-inducing indiepop hooks. Over the course of Part Of The Problem, Baby's ten glorious offerings, we get treated to a miscellany of pop cultural sources of inspiration as a means of tackling themes like distance, personal growth and self-determination. For Kovic, an Australian-born musician living in the UK for almost two decades, the first of those is clearly a big one. "When I was a teenager I couldn't wait to get away," she explains, referencing her upbringing in Brisbane, "and now I can't wait to go back each time. My life is now just repeatedly visiting and then feeling sad when I leave, but knowing in my heart that I am where I'm supposed to be." Louder, wiser, in tune with each other and their identity as a collective_ Fortitude Valley may well remain the same band, but Part Of The Problem, Baby is a step forward on every level.

Alanis Morissette Delivers the Equivalent of a Spiritual Awakening on Supposed Former Infatuation Junkie:
Introspective Themes and Compassionate Emotions on Eastern-Tinged Album Have Grown More Relevant
1998 Smash Plays with Enhanced Detail, Rich Textures, and Sharp Focus on Mobile Fidelity’s 180g 33RPM 2LP Set:
First-Ever Audiophile Edition Strictly Limited to 3,000 Numbered Copies
1/2" / 30 IPS analogue master to DSD 256 to analogue console to lathe

Alanis Morissette refuses to adhere to convention on Supposed Former Infatuation Junkie. While most artists follow-up their breakthrough with an album that closely parallels the approaches that helped make them famous, the maverick singer-songwriter stayed true to herself and drew inspiration from travel to India before she began the recording sessions. As much as the preceding Jagged Little Pill put her on the global radar, Supposed Former Infatuation Junkie confirmed her role as a vital generational voice — and proved her blockbuster success was no fluke. Having set a mark for most sales of an LP in its debut week by a female artist, the 1998 smash remains a pop-rock staple.

Sourced from the original master tapes, strictly limited to 3,000 numbered copies, housed in a Stoughton jacket, and pressed at Fidelity Record Pressing, Mobile Fidelity’s 180g 33RPM 2LP set of Supposed Former Infatuation Junkie presents the triple-platinum LP in audiophile sound for the first time. Benefitting from defined grooves that befit the album’s nearly 72-minute length, this pressing plays with enhanced detail, refined clarity, sharper focus, and broader dynamics than prior versions.

Those traits are key given Morissette’s use of more textured and atmospheric soundscapes, not to mention her evolution into a more nuanced and controlled singer. Similarly, the scale and reach of David Campbell’s string arrangements come across as orchestrations should. Ditto the synth-based architecture shaped by producer and principal Morissette collaborator Glen Ballard. All in all, Mobile Fidelity’s collectible edition simply delivers more information via transparent means.

Notable for its balance, sophistication, and richness, Supposed Former Infatuation Junkie at heart finds Morissette pausing, taking a breath, and learning how to navigate life in a healthy manner after enduring one of the most exhausting and rocket-to-fame stretches any musician ever experienced. It’s the sonic equivalent of a spiritual awakening, a call to betterment, a brave assessment of the self and humanity as a whole. As such, the tunes on her second international (and fourth Canadian) release teem with gratitude, compassion, love, empathy — emotions that lend themselves to the largely mellow, contoured scope and Eastern-tinged melodies of the songs themselves.

“How ‘bout how good it feels to finally forgive you,” Morissette sings on the lead single “Thank U.” “How ‘bout grieving it all one at a time.” Those sentiments, and the vocalist’s embrace of concepts such as divinity and acceptance, not only provide a foundation on which Supposed Former Infatuation Junkie rests. They also reflect the personal maturation she gained from her embrace of Buddhist culture in India and a mindset bent toward notions of reconciliation, peace, and sensuality that were nearly absent in popular music in the late ‘90s.

Those themes continue on “That I Would Be Good,” a confident reflection that takes stock of one’s mental, physical, and emotional state in the face of both changing and unpleasant circumstances — and concludes with Morissette performing a flute solo, further exposing the raw intimacy of the introspective tune. She channels relatable simplicity and joy on “So Pure,” with her invocations of “dance” and “freestyle” speaking to the freedom of expression that courses throughout Supposed Former Infatuation Junkie. And perhaps no song finds Morissette showcasing her refreshed attitude toward life and opening up more than the relationship-themed “Unsent,” whose unconventional structures and lack of a chorus only add to its directness.

Akin to many albums that were ahead of their time, and despite the critical and commercial accolades afforded it upon release, Supposed Former Infatuation Junkie attracted new appreciation and perspective as it got older. Issued during an era where its ideas of serenity, absolution, tranquility, and contentment seemed largely alien, the record — akin to the ways its predecessor foreshadowed a movement — now functions as a visionary beacon that foretells of way to maintain sanity, dignity, and goodness amid a contemporary landscape filled with constant distractions, polarizing views, and incessant calls to purchase, promote, and produce without questioning the what-for purpose.

Supposed Former Infatuation Junkie dares to ask the questions and, at its best, supplies meaningful answers and alternatives that lead to longed-for enlightenment, healing, and laughter. For these reasons alone, it’s a record that never goes out of style.

The extroverted blend of attitude, energy, and ostentatiousness that spills from the New York Dolls’ self-titled debut can be seen in full view on the album cover. Depicting the quintet in its hallmark flash-and-trash apparel and in drag appearance, the 1973 album scared away a considerable amount of potential listeners while capturing the attention of a sizable audience that recognized the band for what it was: zeitgeist pioneers who helped develop the punk and glam rock movements.

Named by Rolling Stone the 301st Greatest Album of All Time and by Mojo the 49th greatest album of all time, New York Dolls receives long-overdue audiophile treatment on Mobile Fidelity’s numbered-edition 180g 45RPM 2LP set. Sourced from the original master tapes, pressed at Fidelity Record Pressing in California, and housed in a Stoughton gatefold jacket, this collectible version marks the first time the group’s career-making statement is available to be experienced in audiophile quality.

Far from harboring the crude elements that became associated with the punk scene, New York Dolls benefits from keen production overseen by none other than Todd Rundgren. Though more accustomed to working far higher-caliber musicians, Rundgren — taken by the New York Dolls’ charisma and cool, if not their instrumental approach — fully understood the ensemble’s aesthetic. He captured what went down at New York City’s Record Plant with an astute blend of live-on-the-floor feel, raw authenticity, and professional acumen.

On Mobile Fidelity’s definitive-sounding reissue, you can hear those facets as well as key details, dynamics, and textures with previously unimaginable insight. Rundgren preserved generous degrees of grit, grime, and grease while bestowing the raucous music with elevated levels of separation, solidity, and impact every landmark recording deserves. His vision extends to introducing choice accents — barroom piano notes, Moog synthesizer passages, Buddy Bowser’s honking saxophones — that add to the songs’ appeal without interfering with the primary architecture.

Afforded extra groove space on this pressing, the tenor, presentation, and attack of both vocalist David Johansen and now-iconic guitarists Johnny Thunders and Sylvain Sylvain come across with stunning vibrancy and vitality. The New York Dolls often seem headed off the rails and into the red, but somehow, the strut, swagger, and sloppiness — and the associated sleaze and scruff, scrape and snarl, frenzy and feverishness those characteristics entail — remain together as a whole that shakes its collective fist at the frustrations, isolation, disarray, and disillusionment of youth chaos and urban decay.

Kicking off its debut with “Personality Crisis,” cited by Rolling Stone as one of the 500 Greatest Songs of All Time, the band makes obvious its grasp of alienation, deviance, displacement, and suburban disaffection — as well as its capacity to play hanging-by-a-thread boogie, noisy rock ‘n’ roll, and Brill Building-inspired pop. The lipstick-kissed New York Dolls possesses traits many of its harsher predecessors would overlook: joyfulness and melody, topped with a knack for knowing how and where to take a song inside of three-and-a-half minutes.

Dive and dash with the belligerent “Looking for a Kiss”; stomp your feet and clap your hands to the big choruses of “Jet Boy”; surrender to the demands and provocations of the coded “Vietnamese Baby”; decide whether “Bad Girl” yearns to explode or implode. It’s one of several tunes here that allude to the world coming to end. Of course, that doesn’t mean there isn’t time for a fling before everything burns. “There’s no place I gotta go,” yowls Johansen. And he means it.

Adorned with tonal crunch, glitter, and gristle, New York Dolls takes pride in its brashness and brattiness. The rambunctious effort, which earned the band the distinction of being voted both “Best New Group of the Year” and “Worst New Group of the Year” in the pages of Creem, displays knowing reverence for the blues without calling attention to the style. The folk-laden “Lonely Planet Boy” is nothing if not a collision of heart-on-the-sleeve emotions and the desire in the face of challenges to maintain a tough-skinned exterior. An interpretation of Bo Diddley’s “Pills,” complete with shivering harmonica and clattering rhythms, announces there’s no cure for what infects this band. It’s that contagious. And how.

His deliveries gushing with campy fun, playful irreverence, and sheer decadence, Johansen doubles as the equivalent of an open fire hydrant that spouts at will. He’s at once tender and vicious, serious and tongue-in-cheek. On arguably his finest hour on the album, Johansen’s phrasing, passion, and lyrical ambiguity alone turn “Trash” into an insistent glam-rock gem whose echoing harmonies and girl-group references stamp it a pop classic.

Too much, too soon? Only for those averse to some of the finest rock ‘n’ roll ever put on tape.

Experience the Double-Platinum 1996 Album in Audiophile Sound for the First Time
Mobile Fidelity’s Numbered-Edition 180g 45RPM 2LP Set Is Sourced from the Original Analogue Tapes
1/2” / 30 IPS analogue master to DSD 256 to analogue console to lathe

If great art, as many believe, is inherently polarizing, then the Stone Temple Pilots’ Tiny Music… Songs from the Vatican Gift Shop easily ranks as the California-based band’s finest album. Simultaneously celebrated and castigated upon release in spring 1996, the group’s third full-length finds vocalist Scott Weiland and company expanding their “grunge” palette with a smart blend of glam rock, psychedelia, jangle pop, and other related styles. Having benefited from long-view reassessments that shed the biases and meanness of initial criticisms, the double-platinum effort is now largely and rightly seen as a creative masterwork. All the more reason why it deserves reference-grade production.

Overseen by producer Brendan O’Brien, Stone Temple Pilots used bedrooms, hallways, bathrooms, and the lawn to capture a broad blend of textures, spaciousness, and ambience that helped underline the group’s obvious (and somewhat unexpected) leap from normal “alternative” status to an artist whose aspirations went beyond that of many of its contemporaries. You can hear the multitude of details and tonalities with previously unattained clarity, presence, and scope on this fantastic reissue, which also delivers the impact and punch every rock record deserves. Another tremendous asset: The depth, grain, and pitch of Weiland’s voice.

For all the contagious choruses and glossy melodies that help make Tiny Music… Songs from the Vatican Gift Shop sparkle, the vocal performances of the late singer arguably rank as the best that the much-missed Weiland committed to tape. None other than the Smashing Pumpkins’ Billy Corgan — who, like many peers and critics, felt a pressing need to reevaluate the record as both time marched on and the self-importance attached to the “alternative” scene faded — praised Weiland’s efforts by noting: “Like Bowie can and does, it was Scott's phrasing that pushed his music into a unique, and hard to pin down, aesthetic sonicsphere.”

Smooth and diverse, those traits are everywhere on Tiny Music… Songs from the Vatican Gift Shop. From the clever combination of emotional closeness and distance he brings to the catchy albeit ultimately melancholic “Lady Picture Show”; to the lounge-fly balladeering that causes “And So I Know” to lightly swing akin to a bleary-eyed house band’s final number at a 4 A.M. bar; to the effortless cool and laissez-faire casualness he articulates on the grinding “Pop’s Love Suicide”; to the dimensional raspiness, defiant energy, and let-loose wail that sail through the crunchy “Big Bang Baby.”

The latter tune, the record’s first single and per Weiland a conscious attempt by the band to deconstruct its prior approaches, clearly borrows from the Rolling Stones’ “Jumpin’ Jack Flash.” Because of it, the song drew all kinds of barbs from naysayers. Their disdain extended to most material on Tiny Music… Songs from the Vatican Gift Shop, which indirectly references other prized acts such as the Beatles, Cheap Trick, T. Rex, and Lush. Those cynics failed to grasp that Stone Temple Pilots were paying homage and having a blast, with even Weiland, then battling serious substance-abuse and legal issues, getting in on the action.

Stone Temple Pilots’ skeptics also turned a deaf ear to the records’ stellar pop craftsmanship, sticky hooks, and sly commentary on music-industry machinations and fame. Not to mention the band’s intent, made clear from the outset. In an interview conducted in 1994, guitarist Robert DeLeo stated: “The last thing I wanted to do with this band was make everybody believe we invented something.”

Seen through that lens and the hindsight afforded history, and appreciated independent of the self-righteous authenticity standards of the day, Tiny Music… Songs from the Vatican Gift Shop sounds borderline fearless while authoritatively checking all the right boxes for fun, flavor, and finesse. Part winking send-up, part tribute to the glitter rock age, and part middle finger towards the hip crowd that didn’t know what they were missing, this mid-90s classic repeatedly invites you to drop the needle and press play.

Mobile Fidelity's UltraDisc One-Step 180g 45RPM 2LP Set Plays with Authoritative Tonality, Airiness, and Clarity:
Pressed on MoFi SuperVinyl and Strictly Limited to
3,000 Numbered Copies
1/4” / 15 IPS Dolby A analogue master to DSD 256 to analogue console to lathe

Joni Mitchell is the only artist who could’ve made Hejira. The legendary singer-songwriter said as much when discussing the album decades after its release. Yet that fact seemed obvious from the moment the gold-certified effort streeted in fall 1976. An adventurous travelogue, probing narrative, and offbeat homage to freedom, Hejira remains an inimitable entry in the catalog of recorded music — a spare, gorgeous, meditative series of sonic vignettes comprised of floating harmonic pop, cool jazz, soft rock, and sensitive vocal elements that beckon feelings of motion, discovery, and self-examination.

Sourced from the original analog master tapes, pressed at Fidelity Record Pressing on MoFi SuperVinyl, and strictly limited to 3,000 numbered copies, Mobile Fidelity's UltraDisc One-Step 180g 45RPM 2LP set presents the record ranked the 133rd Greatest of All Time by Rolling Stone with definitive detail, richness, accuracy, and directness. Marking the first time the revered LP has received audiophile treatment, it's one of six iconic 1970s Mitchell records Mobile Fidelity is reissuing on vinyl and SACD.

Playing with a virtually nonexistent noise floor, dead-quiet surfaces, and superior groove definition, this collectible reissue reproduces in enveloping fashion the tones, textures, and craftsmanship that help Hejira function as the equivalent of a liberating trip down an open road with nothing but blue sky, natural landscape, and fresh air in the immediate vicinity. Passages bloom, carry, decay as they do amid an acoustically optimized environment. Soundstages extend far, wide, and deep, with black backgrounds and pinpoint images adding to the realism.

The reference-grade immediacy, airiness, and presence put in transparent perspective Mitchell’s dense strings of words, stream-of-conscious-like phrasing, and unhurried albeit forward momentum. Likewise, the instrumental contributions of her A-list support musicians — a cast that includes L.A. Express members John Guerin, Max Bennett and Tom Scott, plus Neil Young, Victor Feldman, and Abe Most — emerges with breathtaking clarity and dimensionality.

While Mitchell, whose intimate vocals and abstract guitar parts center everything, Mobile Fidelity's restoration of Hejira further reveals the visionary breadth of guitarist Larry Carlton and bassist Jaco Pastorius. Though heard on only four tracks, Pastorius' fretless bass epitomizes the fluid, subtle, flexible, roomy, and shape-shifting characteristics of songs that often appear to transpire out of nowhere akin to the formation of a puffy cumulus cloud overhead. In sync with Mitchell’s voice, Pastorius’ fusion hovers and floats, suspended in a fog you want to deeply inhale. The "grace notes" Mitchell desired on Hejira can now be heard in full. Ditto the luxurious tapestries of alinear lines, fills, and supplements unreeled on Carlton’s six-string.

Visually, the packaging of this UD1S set complements its identity as the copy to own. Housed in a deluxe slipcase, the LPs come in foil-stamped jackets with faithful-to-the-original graphics. This version is for listeners who desire to become immersed in everything about Hejira, including the unforgettable album cover — a pastiche of 14 different photos Mitchell used a Camera Lucida to assemble into one image that’s anchored by a portrait of her in a stoic pose — and the interior shots of Mitchell skating on a frozen Wisconsin lake wearing a pair of black skates, black shirt, and fur cape.

The notion of skating, feeling an awakening wind whipping against your face, and losing yourself to the surroundings are extremely apt for Hejira, which Mitchell wrote after a sequence of trips and relationships prompted her to reflect on the complicated conflicts between independence and marriage, success and satisfaction, duty and desire — and, more specifically, “the cost of being a woman.” The Canadian native delved into such themes before. But never as she does on Hejira, whose liberating, running-away aura doubles as another of Mitchell’s rejections of tradition as well as a suggestion of a better alternative.

At once observational and personal, expansive and insular, cheerful and poignant, Hejira spans a sea of human conditions, emotions, and circumstances. It addresses drifting, isolation, pleasure, place, time, and surroundings with strikingly poetic discourse matched with music that, save for the crooned ballad “Blue Motel Room,” forgoes conventional structures and choruses.

The jazz-based arrangements, marked by scaled-down percussion and all manner of bent, rounded, and unsettled notes, hint that Mitchell has no exact destination in mind. Excursions such as the moody “Furry Sings the Blues,” funky “Coyote” and edgy “Black Crow” throw open previously locked doors to possibility and journey. They signal it’s time for a welcome departure from norms and the past, one that leads to a heightened sense of clarity and perspective. Or, as Mitchell said upon choosing the album title, it’s time for “leaving the dream, no blame.”

Demdike Stare & Cherrystones unveil a long-in-the-making darkside fantasy weaving atmospheric and loose-limbed cuts recorded at labs in London and Manchester, brilliantly shaking a bush of ghostly trig points ranging from the Mars rehearsal tapes to Minimal Man, Randy Greif’s cut-ups, Conrad Schnitzler’s industrial prototypes and ‘70s ECM sides – with vocal contributions from Ssabae’s mesmerising Laura Lippie.

In dazed pursuit of styles heard on Cherrystones’ DDS tape ‘Peregrinations in SHQ (Super High Quality)’, the renowned London digger properly hexes sonic leylines with his label bosses on 10 wickedly grubby and hazed sound experiments. They tumble down the rabbit hole like some sixth sense-guided call-and-response, resulting in an exquisite unfolding of psychoacoustic spaces familiar to their mutually spirited sounds.

Honestly it's some of the dirtiest and most esoteric gear we've heard from Demdike; you can sense a lifetime of incessant digging drip through every loop and crack; grotty no-wave, industrial noise, DIY psych, proto-techno and gnarled concrète, further bolstered by Cherrystones’ perpendicular, equally insatiable and fathoms-deep areas of interest. With a focus on scrappy, feral cuts and hastily recorded edits, the trio roughly re-draw wordless chants and hyper-compressed knocks over a vortex of found sounds that curdle in rhythmic heat. Never staying sill for long, the trio get drowned by watery ambience, then shredded loops, Technoid shrapnel and electric bass prangs dancing into the aether.

The crankiest spirit perfuses the whole thing, evoking states of unravel and psychic distress as they pit a near-peerless collective knowledge into the void. Laura Lippie acts as human ligature to sanity, a fleeting constant found smudged into the hip hop chops of ‘Familiar Unfamiliarity’, spectral incantations of ‘Prophet in View’, or a channelling of Ozzy in ‘Thee Oath’, among more deranged tongues on ‘Observing the Crux’.

It’s the missing link between ECM, Earth and Dilloway we didn’t know we needed - up there with some of the most satisfyingly deep and frazzled gear this century.