After the high times and critical-mass arrangements of the previous two records, Snowbug exuded a breezy, spare, morning-after vibe. Edified by all manner of world-folk, classic Brazilian pop and the first volumes of the Ethiopiques comp, the Llamas recorded in London with Fulton Dingley and in Chicago with Bundy K. Brown and Jim O"Rourke engineering at Electrical Audio and John McEntire mixing at Soma. Snowbug is an understated, underrated gem.
"Color LP" is pressed on gold vinyl. Black Up is the new sonic move from Shabazz Palaces. Like rich velvet hijabs or gold threaded abayas. Luxury as understood by the modest. Shabazz Palaces. If Bedouins herded beats instead of goats and settled in Seattle instead of the Atlas Mountains, this would be their album. Forward thinkers but nostalgic for a sparer time when ancient astronomers only recognized five planets. Hip hop. Black light uses electromagnetic radiation to eradicate microorganisms, but shabazz didn't come to kill a sound, just to shine their own incandescent lamp on this. Hear. Hard and clear. Fifty thousand years in the making. Honorable._palaceer pink gators. Produced by Knife Knights.plcrs at Gunbeat Serenade Studio in Outplace Palacelands. It was recorded and mixed in Lixx-alog by Blood.
Dark Entries celebrates its 15th anniversary with legendary synth-punk deviants Crash Course in Science. Dale Feliciello, Mallory Yago, and Michael Zodorozny formed CCIS in 1979 after meeting at art school in Philadelphia. As a gesture born of equal parts punk irreverence and brute necessity, the band incorporated toy instruments and kitchen appliances into their aggressive, angular sound. Their anthems “Cardboard Lamb” and “Flying Turns” from 1981’s Signals From Pier Thirteen EP have been staples in adventurous DJ sets for over 40 years - yet some of their finest work is to be found on Near Marineland, a full-length LP recorded in 1981 but remained unreleased in its time. Near Marineland shows the band moving into more diverse and polished territory (although it’s still as abrasive as sandpaper). Tracks like “No More Hollow Doors” and “Jump Over Barrels” highlight CCIS’s singular knack for embedding infectiously monotone hooks in their stiff-yet-funky grooves. Elsewhere we see CCIS going fully unhinged, like on the searing “Someone Reads” or the demented “Pompeii Spared”, where a spray of honks is barely glued together by a frantic synthetic pulse. While this masterwork of malfunctioning analog electronics has surfaced on a few occasions - this first time stand alone remaster includes four never-before-released bonus tracks and includes a lyric sheet. Near Marineland is crucial listening for all devotees of synth-punk and minimal electronics.
Sourcing rare records to reissue can involve meticulous research and years of digging, but then occasionally, Lady Luck smiles upon you. We probably would have never heard of the Medium Wave Band if Gary from Mr Bongo hadn't known Wolverhampton-based record dealer, Steve Ward. Whilst offering Gary some records for sale, he remembered he had a spare copy of an old 7" single that he thought Gary might like. Steve didn't know much about the release, and it had never sold on Discogs. Looking at the record itself, it was minimalist in appearance and information, there wasn't much to go on other than that it was from the Birmingham area. The mystery drew us in…
The A-side, 'So Tender’, is a late-night, jazzy slow-jam, with beautifully sultry, soulful female vocals which sounded vaguely familiar. On listening to the B side, 'Games (Instrumental)’, you are rewarded with a superb example of Britfunk / independent UK jazz-funk. The pulsating, bass-led dancefloor groove and sensibility is a sound reminiscent of productions usually found on labels such as Elite, but the 7” was not released on a label, it was a private press by the band themselves. So who are the enigmatic The Medium Wave Band?
After some fruitful internet digging and correspondence, we got the answers. The band lineup featured Elliot Browne on guitar (lead & rhythm), Ron Lyseight on guitar (rhythm), Andrew Proverbs on keyboards, Tony Peart on drums, Paul Snook on bass, Linton Levy on saxophone, and surprisingly, the beautiful vocals we had been enjoying were those of Jackie Graham, aka the hugely successful UK vocalist, Jaki Graham. Maybe best known for her pop hit with David Grant, 'Could It Be I'm Falling In Love', but also featuring on the cult classic track 'Fire In My Heart' by Escape From New York.
Influenced by artists and bands including George Benson, Ronnie Laws, Weather Report, George Duke, Azimuth and Chick Corea to name a few, the guys booked into a studio near the Botanical Gardens in Birmingham and recorded the two tracks that make up this 7”. Only 200 copies of the original 7" were ever pressed and were sold mostly in Birmingham at Summit Records by the band’s friend DJ Frenchi, as well as at live shows. Despite its limited distribution channels, the record received solid support from fans and those in the music industry, including Morgan Khan of the influential record label, Street Sounds. DJ and journalist, Lindsay Wesker, reviewed the release and this led to the band travelling to London for several radio interviews. They played live shows across the country, including at the prestigious Ronnie Scott's in London, and supported both Shakatak and Weapon of Peace in Birmingham.
Thanks to all those involved bringing this release into fruition and for solving the mystery behind a wonderful Britfunk and UK soul record that could have otherwise been lost in the mists of time.
Introducing Wishy, a brand new band from celebrated Indiana songwriters Kevin Krauter and Nina Pitchkites. Wishy came to life as a musical partnership between the two Indianapolis musicians when Pitchkites moved back home from Philadelphia in 2021. The two bonded over their love for 90s alternative bands like The Sundays and My Bloody Valentine and soon began crafting their own brand of swirling pop-rock with an introspective, grungy flair. By day Krauter works as a music teacher, giving drum and guitar lessons to students, while Pitchkites is a seamstress by trade and often makes embroidered merch for the band. While Krauter spent the better part of the last decade cementing his place as a torchbearer of Midwestern dream pop with 2018's Toss Up and 2020's Full Hand, Pitchkites delved into her own indie electro-pop project Push Pop, writing songs like "Spinning" that would later be reworked for Wishy. To round out the live band, Pitchkites and Krauter enlisted guitarist Dimitri Morris, bassist Mitch Collins, and drummer Conner Host. Across two trips to Los Angeles in late 2022 and early 2023, Krauter and Pitchkites linked up with friend and producer Ben Lumsdaine, who had some spare time between Durand Jones tours to record the pair's newly written songs. The result of their fruitful time in sunny California is the aptly named Paradise, a breezy and melodic EP that puts on full display the songwriter's musical fluency. Tastefully blending shoegaze, dreampop, and alt-rock into a heavenly haze, Wishy delivers a strong 5-song introduction that's dense with melodic earworms and stirring sentiment. Wishy's debut single for new label home Winspear, the driving and distorted "Donut," showcases Pitchkites' hypnotic vocal and Krauter's melancholic wash of guitars. Written after a period when Pitchkites was driving on a spare, "Donut" laments the cynical capitalism of Midwest living and the reliance on a car to get around. Of the song Pitchkites says "When you've got the possibility of the open road plus the limitations of your shitty car-and you're stuck driving on a donut spare tire- it's a Catch 22." Throughout Paradise, the band laments on American loneliness and idealism as it relates to our everyday lives. Across the EP's five tracks, Pitchkites and Krauter trade bittersweet reflections on love and self actualization over vast, scrappy guitar chords. The whole thing feels equally indebted to early aughts alt-rock and '90s jangle pop. Wishy's music is cathartic, yet underlined by a subtle brooding energy-sitting nicely alongside the work of their contemporaries like Momma or Tanukichan, both of whom Wishy will have shared the stage with. Wishy will be touring this Fall supporting Tanukichan, and the band will make their first festival appearance at LEVITATION in Austin, TX. After that, they have their eyes set on finishing their debut album, slated for release via Winspear in 2024
Camelot, the legendary seat of King Arthur's court in Early Middle Ages Britain, was probably not a real place. A corruption of the name of a real Romano-Briton city, the word "Camelot" accumulated symbolic, mythic resonances over centuries, until achieving its present usage as a near-synonym of "utopia." In the mid-20th century alone, Camelot inspired an explosion of representations and appropriations, among them the violent, affectless Arthurian court of Robert Bresson's 1974 film Lancelot du Lac and the absurdist iteration of Monty Python's 1975 Holy Grail, both of which feature armored knights erupting into fountains of blood; the mystical Welsh world of novelist John Cowper Powys's profoundly weird 1951 novel Porius, with its Roman cults, wizards and witches, and wanton giants; and the nationalist nostalgia of President John F. Kennedy's White House. Unsurprisingly there are fewer Camelots in more recent memory. Camelot, Canadian songwriter Jennifer Castle's extraordinary, moving 2024 chronicle of the artist in early middle age, charts a realer, more rooted, and more metaphorical place than the fabled Camelot of the Early Middle Ages (or its myriad depictions), but it too is a space more psychic than physical. In Castle's Camelot, the fantastic interpenetrates the mundane, and the Grail, if there is one, distills everyday experience into art and art into faith, subliming terrestrial concerns into sublime celestial prayers to Mother Nature, and to the unfolding process of perfecting imperfection in one's own nature. Co-produced by Jennifer and longtime collaborator Jeff McMurrich, her seventh record is at once her most monumental and unguarded to date, demonstrating a mastery of rendering her verse and melodies alike with crisply poignant economy. For all their pointedly plainspoken lyrical detail and exhilarating full-band musical flourishes, these songs sound inevitable, eternal as morning devotions. "Back in Camelot," she sings on the lilting, vulnerable title track, "I really learned a lot / circles in the crops and / sky-high geometry." The album opens with a candid admission of sleeping "in the unfinished basement," an embarrassing joke that comes true. But the dreamer is redeemed by dreaming, setting sail in her airborne bed above "sirens and desert deities." If she questions her own agency_whether she is "wishing stones were standing" or just "pissing in the wind"_it does not diminish the ineffable existential jolt of such signs and wonders. This abiding tension between belief and doubt, magic and pragmatism, self and other, sacred and profane, and even, arguably, paganism and monotheism, suffuses these ten songs, which limn an interior landscape shot through with sunstriped shadows of "multi-felt dimensions" both mystical and quotidian. The epic scale and transport of "Camelot," with its swooning strings, gives way dramatically to "Some Friends," an acoustic-guitar-and-vocals meditation in miniature on Janus-faced friends and the lunar and solar temperatures of their promises_"bright and beaming verses" versus hot curses_which recalls her minimalist last album, 2020's achingly intimate Monarch Season. (In a symmetrical sequencing gesture, the penultimate track, the incantatory "Earthsong," bookends the central six with a similarly spare solo performance and coiled chord progression, this time an ambiguous appeal to _ a wounded lover? a wounded saint? our wounded planet?) Those whom "Trust" accuses of treacherous oaths spit through "gilded and golden tooth"_cynics, critics, hypocrites, gurus, scientists, doctors, lovers, government, the so-called entertainment industry_sow uncertainty that can infect the artist, as in "Louis": "What's that dance / and can it be done? What's that song / and can it be sung?" Answering affirmatively are "Lucky #8," an irrepressible ode to dancing as a bulwark against the "tidal pools of pain" and the "theory of collapse," and "Full Moon in Leo," which finds the narrator dancing around the house with a broom, wearing nothing but her underwear and "big hair." But the central question remains: who can we trust, and at what cost faith, in art or angels or otherwise? Castle's confidence in her collaborators is the cornerstone of Camelot. Carl Didur (piano and keys), Evan Cartwright (drums and percussion), and steadfast sideman Mike Smith (bass) comprise a rhythm section of exquisite delicacy and depth. This fundamental trio anchors the airiness of regular backing vocalists Victoria Cheong and Isla Craig and frames the guitars of Castle, McMurrich, and Paul Mortimer (and on "Lucky #8," special guest Cass McCombs). Reprising his decennial role on Castle's beloved 2014 Pink City, Owen Pallett arranged the strings for Estonia's FAMES Skopje Studio Orchestra. On the ravishing country-soul ballad "Blowing Kisses"_Pallett's crowning achievement here, which can be heard in its entirety in the penultimate episode of the third season of FX's The Bear_Jennifer contemplates time and presence, love and prayer_and how songwriting and poetry both manifest and limit all four dimensions: "No words to fumble with / I'm not a beggar to language any longer." Such rare moments of speechlessness_"I'm so fucking honoured," she bluntly proclaims_suggest a state "only a god could come up with." (If Camelot affirms Castle as one of the great song-poets of her generation, she is not immune to the despairing linguistic beggary that plagues all writers.) Camelot evinces a thoroughgoing faith not only in the natural world_including human bodies, which can, miraculously, dance and swim and bleed and embrace and birth_but also in our interpretations of and interventions in it: the "charts and diagrams" of "Lucky #8," a daydreamt billboard on Fairfax Ave. in LA in "Full Moon in Leo," the bloody invocations of the organ-stained "Mary Miracle," and all manner of water worship, rivers in particular. (Notably, Jennifer has worked as a farmer and a doula.) The album ends with "Fractal Canyon"'s repeated, exalted insistence that she's "not alone here." But where is here? The word "utopia" itself constitutes a pun, indicating in its ambiguous first syllable both the Greek "eutopia," or "good-place"_the facet most remembered today_and "outopia," or "no-place," a negative, impossible geography of the mind. Utopia, like its metonym Camelot, is imaginary. Or as fellow Canadian songwriter Neil Young once sang, "Everyone knows this is nowhere." "Can you see how I'd be tempted," Castle asks out of nowhere, held in the mystery, "to pretend I'm not alone and let the memory bend?"
The 24 songs on this double album are in some ways a completion. Together with Young Man Songs here are nearly all the songs Kerry Lee Crabbe and Daryl Runswick wrote (and Daryl sang) which are good enough to be issued. The subject matter here is wider ranging than on Young Man Songs:love songs, but also family, heroes and antiheroes, zen, celebration, nostalgia, philosophy, life and death.
Daryl Runswick writes: "I first set Kerry Lee Crabbe's words to music in 1967; for the last time in 2010. Our most prolific period was 1970-1980 during which time we had considerable success as a songwriting team, though we didn't have big hits. The pinnacle for us was when Cleo Laine recorded a whole album of our songs (One More Day: well worth looking out for on vinyl or CD). There are a number of reasons for our lack of hits: songwriting was for neither of us our main job - not 'the principal source of his revenue' as Paul Simon put it (One Trick Pony) - we did it in our spare time. Also, neither of us had any interest in being an entrepreneur, nor did we employ a manager to push the songs; also, perhaps we were snobs who disdained moneygrubbing; but perhaps the main reason was that these are art songs: art songs in the style of pop music, yes, but not aimed (other than tangentially) at the commercial market.
We'd have loved to have hits but that's not why we did it and we didn't bother overmuch flogging our wares around. Kerry and I were introduced to one another as undergraduates at Cambridge University. Kerry had written the book and lyrics for a musical (Someone is Squeaking) and I was instructed by Clive James, then President of the Footlights Club where I was Musical Director, to compose the songs. It was put on at the Edinburgh Festival Fringe in 1967 with Julie Covington in the lead role. Kerry directed and I was musical director, playing piano in the accompanying trio. After that summer I went down to London to be a jazz bass player while Kerry had a further year at Trinity College, Cambridge. After he came down, we got together again and continued making songs."
. For Fans Of: The Weather Station, Weyes Blood, Adrianne Lenker, Phoebe Bridgers, Joan Shelley, Lana Del Rey, Cass McCombs, Angel Olsen & Neil Young. Camelot, the legendary seat of King Arthur’s court in Early Middle Ages Britain, was probably not a real place. A corruption of the name of a real Romano-Briton city, the word “Camelot” accumulated symbolic, mythic resonances over centuries, until achieving its present usage as a near-synonym of “utopia.” In the mid-20th century alone, Camelot inspired an explosion of representations and appropriations, among them the violent, affectless Arthurian court of Robert Bresson’s 1974 film Lancelot du Lac and the absurdist iteration of Monty Python’s 1975 Holy Grail, both of which feature armoured knights erupting into fountains of blood; the mystical Welsh world of novelist John Cowper Powys’s profoundly weird 1951 novel Porius, with its Roman cults, wizards and witches, and wanton giants; and the nationalist nostalgia of President John F. Kennedy’s White House. Unsurprisingly there are fewer Camelots in more recent memory. Camelot, Canadian songwriter Jennifer Castle’s extraordinary, moving 2024 chronicle of the artist in early middle age, charts a realer, more rooted, and more metaphorical place than the fabled Camelot of the Early Middle Ages (or its myriad depictions), but it too is a space more psychic than physical. In Castle’s Camelot, the fantastic interpenetrates the mundane, and the Grail, if there is one, distills everyday experience into art and art into faith, subliming terrestrial concerns into sublime celestial prayers to Mother Nature, and to the unfolding process of perfecting imperfection in one’s own nature. Co-produced by Jennifer and longtime collaborator Jeff McMurrich, her seventh record is at once her most monumental and unguarded to date, demonstrating a mastery of rendering her verse and melodies alike with crisply poignant economy. For all their pointedly plainspoken lyrical detail and exhilarating full-band musical flourishes, these songs sound inevitable, eternal as morning devotions. “Back in Camelot,” she sings on the lilting, vulnerable title track, “I really learned a lot / circles in the crops and / sky-high geometry.” The album opens with a candid admission of sleeping “in the unfinished basement,” an embarrassing joke that comes true. But the dreamer is redeemed by dreaming, setting sail in her airborne bed above “sirens and desert deities.” If she questions her own agency whether she is “wishing stones were standing” or just “pissing in the wind” it does not diminish the ineffable existential jolt of such signs and wonders. This abiding tension between belief and doubt, magic and pragmatism, self and other, sacred and profane, and even, arguably, paganism and monotheism, suffuses these ten songs, which limn an interior landscape shot through with sunstriped shadows of “multi-felt dimensions” both mystical and quotidian. The epic scale and transport of “Camelot,” with its swooning strings, gives way dramatically to “Some Friends,” an acoustic-guitar-and-vocals meditation in miniature on Janus-faced friends and the lunar and solar temperatures of their promises—“bright and beaming verses” versus hot curses which recalls her minimalist last album, 2020’s achingly intimate Monarch Season. (In a symmetrical sequencing gesture, the penultimate track, the incantatory “Earthsong,” bookends the central six with a similarly spare solo performance and coiled chord progression, this time an ambiguous appeal to … a wounded lover? a wounded saint? our wounded planet?). Those whom “Trust” accuses of treacherous oaths spit through “gilded and golden tooth” cynics, critics, hypocrites, gurus, scientists, doctors, lovers, government, the so-called entertainment industry sow uncertainty that can infect the artist, as in “Louis”: “What’s that dance / and can it be done? What’s that song / and can it be sung?” Answering affirmatively are “Lucky #8,” an irrepressible ode to dancing as a bulwark against the “tidal pools of pain” and the “theory of collapse,” and “Full Moon in Leo,” which finds the narrator dancing around the house with a broom, wearing nothing but her underwear and “big hair.” But the central question remains: who can we trust, and at what cost faith, in art or angels or otherwise? Castle’s confidence in her collaborators is the cornerstone of Camelot. Carl Didur (piano and keys), Evan Cartwright (drums and percussion), and steadfast sideman Mike Smith (bass) comprise a rhythm section of exquisite delicacy and depth. This fundamental trio anchors the airiness of regular backing vocalists Victoria Cheong and Isla Craig and frames the guitars of Castle, McMurrich, and Paul Mortimer (and on “Lucky #8,” special guest Cass McCombs). Reprising his decennial role on Castle’s beloved 2014 Pink City, Owen Pallett arranged the strings for Estonia’s FAMES Skopje Studio Orchestra. On the ravishing country-soul ballad “Blowing Kisses” Pallett’s crowning achievement here, which can be heard in its entirety in the penultimate episode of the third season of FX’s The Bear Jennifer contemplates time and presence, love and prayer and how songwriting and poetry both manifest and limit all four dimensions: “No words to fumble with / I’m not a beggar to language any longer.” Such rare moments of speechlessness “I’m so fucking honoured,” she bluntly proclaims suggest a state “only a god could come up with.” (If Camelot affirms Castle as one of the great song-poets of her generation, she is not immune to the despairing linguistic beggary that plagues all writers.) Camelot evinces a thoroughgoing faith not only in the natural world including human bodies, which can, miraculously, dance and swim and bleed and embrace and birth but also in our interpretations of and interventions in it: the “charts and diagrams” of “Lucky #8,” a daydreamt billboard on Fairfax Ave. in LA in “Full Moon in Leo,” the bloody invocations of the organ-stained “Mary Miracle,” and all manner of water worship, rivers in particular. (Notably, Jennifer has worked as a farmer and a doula.) The album ends with “Fractal Canyon”s repeated, exalted insistence that she’s “not alone here.” But where is here? The word “utopia” itself constitutes a pun, indicating in its ambiguous first syllable both the Greek “eutopia,” or “good-place” the facet most remembered today and “outopia,” or “no-place,” a negative, impossible geography of the mind. Utopia, like its metonym Camelot, is imaginary
Strange Power!, the fifth record from Durham, NC-based songwriter and poet Anne Malin Ringwalt, emerges from the darkest waters of the self into a world remade. Releasing in conjunction with her second book of poetry, What Floods (Inside the Castle, Oct. 2024), Strange Power! overflows with Ringwalt's teeming and sensuous personal symbolry: glowing lilacs and gentle queens, dolphins wild and girls who grew up brave _ T.S. Eliot sung by Cat Power, backed by Mount Eerie. She sings: "I rose up from water." Ringwalt writes and performs with the authority of a lifetime spent harnessing the alchemy of storytelling; her belief in the power of words to heal and transform is palpable in each achingly- delivered lyric. Made amidst profound inner and outer change, Strange Power! also sees Ringwalt taking up the role of self-producer for the first time, mirroring and supporting the record's Orphic quest by gathering contributions from a coterie of friends wielding an electric range of American instruments. Violins, vibraphones, drum machines, electric guitars dappled with spring reverb, wind-blown shells, and a host of other numinous sounds form an unfurling and shadowy world which was then carefully honed during the mixing process (shepherded by Michael Cormier-O'Leary and Lucas Knapp) _ settling the final record in an eerie meridian between spareness and verdancy. The result is a beguiling and darkly blooming realm: the sound of a personal cosmos being remade, piece by piece. Ringwalt is at the height of her spirit as both songwriter-poet and singer, her willowy voice by turns conjuring and keening as she reckons with her deep past and the stories told since. Opening track "The Pines" sets the stage for a record of truly life-long scope: "I was a child, now I hold her / I was asleep for many years." Some songs, like the gorgeous "North Carolina" and "The Saint," were written as early as 2013 but, Ringwalt says, "insisted upon being remembered" as the record took shape; in its final form, they serve as inciting moments of self-discovery before the journey to come. "The Visionary" recalls one of Ringwalt's earliest musical breakthroughs _ her re-rendering of an Emily Brontë poem into a song at age 15 _ and, she says, "`cites' the melody of that song in the context of this new one _ a holding of the past and present and every layer in between/beyond, in utter solitude _ a solitude that reflects certain aspects of abandon as a child and an adult..." This unusually lengthy time-scale lends Strange Power! a deeply moving sense of narrative fullness. Stretches of the record _ particularly the "Judgment Day" ? "River" ? "Lilac Bloom" trifecta that form the black heart of Side 1 _ may recall familiar wanderings of personal underworlds such as Mount Eerie's Lost Wisdom Pt. 2 or Neil Young's Ditch Trilogy. Yet this hollowed landscape is in turn exorcized by the a capella "I Know," in which Ringwalt sings "I won't be gutted by you / For giving and trying to heal / I won't be gutted, I am not a fool / I deserve a love that is new" before the song concludes with a piano passage that recalls hymnal music _ suggesting a faith in life itself to offer new beginnings. Side 2 features some of Ringwalt's most powerfully introspective writing to date, as the songwriter casts off myth after myth in her search for personal transformation. By the final song, "Stories," the energy that has been gathering all throughout the record breaks loose as Ringwalt reflects: "I wrote so many stories, not knowing what the end was." But at this stage in the journey, we know there is no such thing as an ending; if the healing process is never complete, the storyteller's strange power is what finally offers liberation.
UK supergroup Flock return with their anticipated sophomore album "Flock II". Comprising an exceptional line-up featuring Bex Burch (fresh from her debut solo album on International Anthem), Sarathy Korwar, Tamar Osborn (Collocutor, Dele Sosimi, Unknown To Known), Danalogue (The Comet Is Coming / Soccer96) and Al MacSween (Kefaya), the new recordings showcase Flock"s ability to push the boundaries of the composition process and craft unique tracks based on their collective spirit.
"Raise a glass to the latest entry in Bloodshot’s Barrel Select Series!
Barrel Select exists to highlight the best of Bloodshot’s cask-strength catalog. Robbie Fulks has made some of the finest records we can claim as our own, but if there’s only room for one on that sacred shelf at the top, it’s Gone Away Backward.
“At a time when modern country feels like bloated spandex-and-Aquanetted pop-metal, Fulks defiantly embraces an unflinching traditionalism.” Paste’s words, not ours, but we’re not gonna argue the point they made when Gone Away Backward hit their doorstep 11 years back. They also called this “a tour du force of bluegrass-derived spare country,” which we’ll also let stand. Magnet said it was “the best album Fulks has ever made, period,” and out of respect for the wonderful work Robbie has done in the past decade, we’ll simply point out that this too is an 11-year-old review.
With Steve Albini at the board, Robbie was able to break his songs down to their core and fire his characters, his chops, his band, and his amazing voice directly at listener’s souls. “We recorded it pretty fast, in a couple of days. People are always bragging that they did it without overdubs, but that’s the way we did it.” The results are everything we ever wanted from Robbie and a high-water mark of folk or bluegrass or alt-country or whatever genre bucket you want to pour his gifts into.
Recorded by Steve Albini
10th Anniversary Barrel Select edition on Bloodshot Red vinyl
“Stunning” —Saving Country Music
“a work of great, accomplished craft . . . vivid and moving” —Ken Tucker, NPR
“The level of artistry is so complete that it suggests a world in which Fulks isn’t a household name is somehow upside down.” —Wall Street Journal"
Following releases on Sähkö Recordings and The Trilogy Tapes, "Fever of the World" is the Soda Gong debut by Memotone, the nom de plume of UK-based multi-instrumentalist Will Yates. As a collection, it is both intimate and expansive, like the feeling of gathering one's thoughts before setting off on a long journey or committing to an irrevocable course of action. Throughout, Yates' talents as both player and sound designer are on full display, as are the sonic signatures that have come to characterize the Memotone catalog: low-lit, ECM-inflected noir; evasive and evolving loop-based accretions; and mellifluous mosaics of keys, guitar, reeds, and percussion. It is patient and focused music, built around production techniques and compositional ideas that have been perfected both in studio and in live performance over a period of several years. "Catherine, On Fire" sets the scene, one of two languid, longform selections, and develops slowly from a spare, harmonic-laden guitar loop into a bed of rippling textural ambience and woozy clarinet filigree. Later, "The Bus" and "When the Bakery Has What You Want and It's Cheap" conjure images of rain-streaked windows, fanciful baked confections, and grey skies broken finally by sunlight. Warm, generous, and comfortable in its own skin, this is music that reminds us that when it feels easy to resign ourselves to world weariness, we should pause for a moment and listen to the rustle of the leaves. The wind knows not to linger.
Earlier this year we were excited to announce the return of one of our most beloved bands of recent years: New Street Adventure. To mark the 10th Anniversary of their debut album ‘No Hard Feelings’, on 4 October we are releasing a special, limited edition olive green colour vinyl reissue. The release will coincide with an extensive UK tour.
‘About eighteen months ago, someone asked if I had a spare vinyl copy of ‘No Hard Feelings’. I checked the shelves, and found my own copy and no more. I checked Discogs and saw that it was changing hands for far more than an 8-year-old album should be. Released in the pre-vinyl-revival years, its limited original pressing means that demand is now out-stripping supply – a measure of just how good this record is. With that in mind Nick Corbin and I hatched a plot for a 10th Anniversary reissue, and here it is!
I loved New Street Adventure. They were smart, looked great on stage, and in Nick was one of the best front-men and songwriters I have ever worked with. With their own ecosystem of self promoted gigs, they created their own audience, and for a while it looked like a major label deal was in the offing. Eddie Piller had wanted to sign them from the first time he met Nick, and when the big deal didn’t happen, he was still there for the band as they became an Acid Jazz act in 2013.
There were endless back-and-forths on how the album should sound (and some despair that it wasn’t quite sounding as good as it should have). Then Mitch Ayling came on board to produce the final mix. He brought out the songs, lifted the playing, delivering the shiny finished recording that took its place as one of the finest moments in the Acid Jazz catalogue. Nick’s songs now sparkled. As his love of soul shone through, his politically and socially aware lyrics showed a rare, wry observational gaze that was turned on 21st Century life. From the warnings against populist hatred of ‘On Our Front Doorstep’, to the hopeless ennui of ‘Foot In The Door’, and the day-to-day pursuits of being in your twenties in a big city. Through it all shines a passion – sometimes coming out as anger – that drives the music. It is of course encapsulated in ‘The Big A.C.’, written about the night that Nick’s dad took him to the 6Ts Allnighter at the 100 Club, which brought him into the world of Northern Soul. It’s a classic that nails the feeling of excitement as well as anything written.
The album was released late in 2014 and for those who want a vinyl copy – even the CDs cost a fair penny now – we have prepared this special 10th Anniversary Edition on transparent olive-green coloured vinyl. The inner sleeve is illustrated with never-before seen photos from the archive, both candid and by early band supporter Dean Chalkley, and has sleeve notes by Nick and myself. Nick is taking New Street back on tour this Autumn, and it you would be foolish (once more) to miss either the tour or the record.’
In 1975 Phil Pratt first recording session with Keith Poppin at Channel One on Maxfield Avenue generated a spare, hypnotic re-working of 'Bad Mind Grudgeful' retitled 'Envious'. The seven inch single, "caused a sensation here and in Britain", was a Number One record in Jamaica and a big hit on the UK reggae market too. The acclaimed 'Envious' album followed. Keith Poppin continued to work with Phil Pratt on releases such as 'Who Are You', another big hit, and two years later, recorded his second album for Phil Pratt 'Pop Inn'. This classic collection, also created with a stellar line up of musicians at Channel One, was released in the UK only on the Burning Sounds subsidiary label Burning Rockers and consolidated Keith's reputation as one of Jamaica's foremost vocalists with his soulful and melodic voice. This re-issue of 'Pop Inn' is released on 180-gram vinyl including comprehensive sleeve notes
Warped and dragged through the murky underbelly of the Levantine underground comes 'Volume 1' the x-rated left-field debut from the pseudonymous DJ GAWAD.
Via pitched up vocals dripping with delay, DJ GAWAD takes us on a tour of the region's most urgent artists, his interjections oscillating between cocky boast and frustrated lament.
Through this new persona, DJ GAWAD pulls back the curtain to reveal himself as the protagonist of the mixtape-like album, as replete with features as it is with expletives, an enigmatic ghoul in the back of the studio with an endless supply of broken sample flips, giving the album its old school feel while still speaking to contemporary hip hop aesthetics.
A Jordanian/Palestinian Memphis gangster rap parody par excellence, the album is infused with satirical commentary on the state of the contemporary music scene, yet DJ GAWAD shows as much as he tells, expertly fashioning a sound that makes you wonder about the identity of the artist behind the braggadocious persona of the self-titled "best producer in the Middle East."
Drawing heavily from the Memphis rap mixtapes of the mid 1990s, DJ GAWAD has clearly identified the same brooding atmosphere in his own surroundings. On Mat3'anish (feat. Bleng & Fara7) DJ GAWAD makes his most explicit reference to the Memphis sound, twisting the hallmark cowbells that defined that movement to reflect the equally raw nature of his own setting.
Similarly, in Bandana (feat. Jurum), DJ GAWAD finds the perfect tension between his romantic sampling tendencies and the brutal sensibilities of his featured artist. As if liberated by DJ GAWAD's anonymity and irreverence, his menagerie of artists appear to have been emboldened, embracing the obscene free naturedness of the album, setting their lyrical prowess free to wander.
No expense was spared in the post production treatment of DJ GAWAD's debut, with Iraqi-American artist Mark Gergis incorporating the Nakamichi Dragon cassette deck in the mastering process, as is evidenced by the crisp saturation of the album's sonics.
Strange Sensations is a new EP from Paul Renegade.
In between Lazerdrome / Phonomena releases (news on that soon) and with a folder full of spare tunes, this 4 track EP comes on white vinyl on sister label DragonDrop Records
This release features a mix of happy pianos, dark synths, ruff beats and Jungle Tekno vibes, all at various BPMs so there’s a bit of something for everybody.
On the A-side, Zer0 Gravity Fire is fast-paced ’94-style stompy hardcore (160BPM) with rushy pianos, while the synths and piano lines of Mind Over Mind slow the pace down a bit at 140BPM in an early ‘92 style.
On the flip side, Weird Dreams (160BPM) takes you between the worlds of happy and the darkside and Danger: Battledroid is an experimental dark hardcore track at 165BPM, mixing well in either a hardcore or jungle set.
Though she was Stax Records' Queen of Soul (and Otis Redding was her king), there was much more to Carla Thomas. In 1967, even while being promoted by the name of her most recent album, The Queen Alone, she was expanding her sound, developing a cabaret act that showcased a mix of genres and styles and that was built around her beautiful voice. She was exploring new vistas when these two sides were recorded.
Isaac Hayes wrote "Loneliness". Carla's suave delivery evokes Diana Ross, and the shiny brass horns call out a Burt Bacharach arrangement as much as Stax. This is Carla with a nice polish on the groove.
Labelmate and friend Deanie Parker wrote "If It's Not Asking Too Much". A sparer presentation, the organ drives the tango rhythm and also—a second keyboard, I think—swells behind Carla, everything entwining and deepening the song's brooding tone. This is the kind of side that can both start your night or finish it.
Carla Thomas has got it all.
Hassan Abou Alam is next to step up to the unconventional Nerve Collect label with six tracks of futuristic club-ready chaos. The finely crafted EP arrives in August and comes on 12" vinyl and via all digital platforms.
Hassan Abou Alam has established himself as one of Egypt's most innovative underground musicians over the last 10+ years. His music is a meeting of disparate worlds - organic and synthetic designs, digital and analogue tools, the traditional and the futuristic, and it has come on the likes of YUKU, Rhythm Section, Banoffee Pies and Casa Voyager. His versatile sound pulls apart existing genres and reconstructs them as something entirely new.
Opener '3asabi' is a stylish sonic assault with thumping rhythms and trippy oscillations that will get any dance floor bouncing. It's fun yet functional, serious yet seductive and 'Basha' Ft. ZIAD ZAZA, Ismail Nosrat & Aly B is another kinetic fusion of hand claps and complex drum funk, Egyptian vocal gymnastics and punchy bass. 'Ghalat' has lurching drums and plunging bass driving on beneath mangled synths, odd vocalisations and percussive splatters drawn from a unique sound palette. The drilling low ends of 'Khalsana' Ft ZIAD ZAZA are offset by fluttering percussive details up top while spare but booming kicks shake every bone in your body and the bassline devastates.
There is no let up on 'Mesh Mafhoom' which is a ritualistic workout with moments of melancholic synth soul shining through the jumble of tin-pot percussion and crashing hits. Closer 'Zein' is more body-popping brilliance that channels ancient spirits into warped synths and rhythms so complex they melt the mind.
Hassan Abou Alam's blurring of the lines between the real and the imagined is second to none on this EP. It's a sub-heavy mix of the human voice, machine-made sounds and inventive rhythms that make for something new, weird and wonderful.
Following his highly acclaimed 2021 album "Atotal" (Aesthetical) and 2022 "Magnetoscope" (Raster), Vigroux returns with eight heavyweight tracks composed in 2023 and 2024. Vigroux states about his current work: "I am not very talkative about my music unless I am specifically questioned, the immaterial dimension of music partly spares us from the major questions which are the prerogative of theatrical forms for which I am also very active, in this sense for me music is a real outlet where things are done intuitively, for pleasure". Always pushing forth and expanding his now classic rigidly cold analog sounds and rhythmic structures entwined with lush atmospheric synth compositions, "Grand Bal is another milestone in his ever growing discography.
Black Bile compiles some of Umberto"s most resplendent, sanguine music to date The solo work of LA composer Matt Hill draws heavily from the world of cinema, spinning immersive narratives and rich atmospheres using sound alone. Hill, an active composer for film and television, recently scored the 2022 Jerry Pyle film Loveseat (soundtrack was released in 2023). Other recent scores include the 2020 thriller Archenemy, from the producers of cult classic Mandy. Inspired by the ancient Greek theory of the "four humors," an early medical theory linking the inner workings of the human body to the elements. "Black bile" specifically links the feelings of melancholy with autumn. Hill"s celestial compositions are an autumnal soundtrack conveying beauty, yearning, reflection and comfort. Many of the album"s phrases are constructed from just two notes or sounds, arranged by Hill into complex patterns that undulate with an organic pulse. The spare melodic structure holds a myriad of small and beautiful details. The songs began with Hill improvising on the piano, to find the notes and patterns that created the musical and emotional structure from which he could expand with textural detail. Hill then would often remove the initial structure leaving a sparer and more skeletal one which he could again expand upon to create a full piece. The careful attention to each detail gives his minimal compositions emotional heft. The album masterfully stakes Umberto"s claim among other avant-ambient boundary pushers such as Lawrence English or Laurel Halo.
