Cerca:spread love

As the sun sets on a quaint East Nashville house, a young man bares a piece of his soul. Facing the camera, sporting a silky suit jacket/shirt/slacks/fingerless gloves ensemble that announces "singer" before he's even opened his mouth, Lee Tracy Johnson settles onto his stage, the front yard. He sways to the dirge-like drum machine pulse of a synth-soaked slow jam, extends his arms as if gaining his balance, and croons in affecting, fragile earnest, "I need your love… oh baby…"

Dogs in the yard next door begin barking. A mysterious cardboard robot figure, beamed in from galaxies unknown and affixed to a tree, is less vocal. Lee doesn't acknowledge either's presence. He's busy feeling it, arms and hands gesticulating. His voice rises in falsetto over the now-quiet dogs, over the ambient noise from the street that seeps into the handheld camcorder's microphone, over the recording of his own voice played back from a boombox off-camera. After six minutes the single, continuous shot ends. In this intimate creative universe there are no re-takes. There are many more music videos to shoot, and as Lee later puts it, "The first time you do it is actually the best. Because you can never get that again. You expressing yourself from within."

"I Need Your Love" dates from a lost heyday. From some time in the '80s or early '90s, when Lee Tracy (as he was known in performance) and his music partner/producer/manager Isaac Manning committed hours upon hours of their sonic and visual ideas to tape. Embracing drum machines and synthesizers – electronics that made their personal futurism palpable – they recorded exclusively at home, live in a room into a simple cassette deck. Soul, funk, electro and new wave informed their songs, yet Lee and Isaac eschewed the confinement of conventional categories and genres, preferring to let experimentation guide them.

"Anytime somebody put out a new record they had the same instruments or the same sound," explains Isaac. "So I basically wanted to find something that's really gonna stand out away from all of the rest of 'em." Their ethos meant that every idea they came up with was at least worth trying: echoed out half-rapped exhortations over frantic techno-style beats, gospel synth soul, modal electro-funk, oddball pop reinterpretations, emo AOR balladry, nods to Prince and the Fat Boys, or arrangements that might collapse mid-song into a mess of arcade game-ish blips before rallying to reach the finish line. All of it conjoined by consistent tape hiss, and most vitally, Lee's chameleonic voice, which managed to wildly shape shift and still evoke something sincere – whether toggling between falsetto and tenor exalting Jesus's return, or punctuating a melismatic romantic adlib with a succinct, "We all know how it feels to be alone."

"People think we went to a studio," says Isaac derisively. "We never went to no studio. We didn't have the money to go to no studio! We did this stuff at home. I shot videos in my front yard with whatever we could to get things together." Sometimes Isaac would just put on an instrumental record, be it "Planet Rock" or "Don't Cry For Me Argentina" (from Evita), press "record," and let Lee improvise over it, yielding peculiar love songs, would-be patriotic anthems, or Elvis Presley or Marilyn Monroe tributes. Technical limitations and a lack of professional polish never dissuaded them. They believed they were onto something.

"That struggle," Isaac says, "made that sound sound good to me."

In the parlance of modern music criticism Lee and Isaac's dizzying DIY efforts would inevitably be described as "outsider." But "outsider" carries the burden of untold additional layers of meaning if you're Black and from the South, creating on a budget, and trying to get someone, anyone within the country music capital of the world to take your vision seriously. "What category should we put it in?" Isaac asks rhetorically. "I don't know. All I know is feeling. I ain't gonna name it nothing. It's music. If it grabs your soul and touch your heart that's what it basically is supposed to do."

=

Born in 1963, the baby boy of nine siblings, Lee Tracy spent his earliest years living amidst the shotgun houses on Nashville's south side. "We was poor, man!" he says, recalling the outhouse his family used for a bathroom and the blocks of ice they kept in the kitchen to chill perishables. "But I actually don't think I really realized I was in poverty until I got grown and started thinking about it." Lee's mom worked at the Holiday Inn; his dad did whatever he had to do, from selling fruit from a horse drawn cart to bootlegging. "We didn't have much," Lee continues, "but my mother and my father got us the things we needed, the clothes on our back." By the end of the decade with the city's urban renewal programs razing entire neighborhoods to accommodate construction of the Interstate, the family moved to Edgehill Projects. Lee remembers music and art as a constant source of inspiration for he and his brothers and sisters – especially after seeing the Jackson 5 perform on Ed Sullivan. "As a small child I just knew that was what I wanted to do."

His older brother Don began musically mentoring him, introducing Lee to a variety of instruments and sounds. "He would never play one particular type of music, like R&B," says Lee. "I was surrounded by jazz, hard rock and roll, easy listening, gospel, reggae, country music; I mean I was a sponge absorbing all of that." Lee taught himself to play drums by beating on cardboard boxes, gaining a rep around the way for his timekeeping, and his singing voice. Emulating his favorites, Earth Wind & Fire and Cameo, he formed groups with other kids with era-evocative band names like Concept and TNT Connection, and emerged as the leader of disciplined rehearsals. "I made them practice," says Lee. "We practiced and practiced and practiced. Because I wanted that perfection." By high school the most accomplished of these bands would take top prize in a prominent local talent show. It was a big moment for Lee, and he felt ready to take things to the next level. But his band-mates had other ideas.

"I don't know what happened," he says, still miffed at the memory. "It must have blew they mind after we won and people started showing notice, because it's like everybody quit! I was like, where the hell did everybody go?" Lee had always made a point of interrogating prospective musicians about their intentions before joining his groups: were they really serious or just looking for a way to pick up girls? Now he understood even more the importance of finding a collaborator just as committed to the music as he was.

=

Isaac Manning had spent much of his life immersed in music and the arts – singing in the church choir with his family on Nashville's north side, writing, painting, dancing, and working various gigs within the entertainment industry. After serving in the armed forces, in the early '70s he ran The Teenage Place, a music and performance venue that catered to the local youth. But he was forced out of town when word of one of his recreational routines created a stir beyond the safe haven of his bohemian circles.

"I was growing marijuana," Isaac explains. "It wasn't no business, I was smoking it myself… I would put marijuana in scrambled eggs, cornbread and stuff." His weed use originated as a form of self-medication to combat severe tooth pain. But when he began sharing it with some of the other young people he hung out with, some of who just so happened to be the kids of Nashville politicians, the cops came calling. "When I got busted," he remembers, "they were talking about how they were gonna get rid of me because they didn't want me saying nothing about they children because of the politics and stuff. So I got my family, took two raggedy cars, and left Nashville and went to Vegas."

Out in the desert, Isaac happened to meet Chubby Checker of "The Twist" fame while the singer was gigging at The Flamingo. Impressed by Isaac's zeal, Checker invited him to go on the road with him as his tour manager/roadie/valet. The experience gave Isaac a window into a part of the entertainment world he'd never encountered – a glimpse of what a true pop act's audience looked like. "Chubby Checker, none of his shows were played for Black folks," he remembers. "All his gigs were done at high-class white people areas." Returning home after a few years with Chubby, Isaac was properly motivated to make it in Music City. He began writing songs and scouting around Nashville for local talent anywhere he could find it with an expressed goal: "Find someone who can deliver your songs the way you want 'em delivered and make people feel what you want them to feel."

One day while walking through Edgehill Projects Isaac heard someone playing the drums in a way that made him stop and take notice. "The music was so tight, just the drums made me feel like, oh I'm-a find this person," he recalls. "So I circled through the projects until I found who it was.

"That's how I met him – Lee Tracy. When I found him and he started singing and stuff, I said, ohhh, this is somebody different."

=

Theirs was a true complementary partnership: young Lee possessed the raw talent, the older Isaac the belief. "He's really the only one besides my brother and my family that really seen the potential in me," says Lee. "He made me see that I could do it."

Isaac long being a night owl, his house also made for a fertile collaborative environment – a space where there always seemed to be a new piece of his visual art on display: paintings, illustrations, and dolls and figures (including an enigmatic cardboard robot). Lee and Issac would hang out together and talk, listen to music, conjure ideas, and smoke the herb Isaac had resumed growing in his yard. "It got to where I could trust him, he could trust me," Isaac says of their bond. They also worked together for hours on drawings, spreading larges rolls of paper on the walls and sketching faces with abstract patterns and imagery: alien-like beings, tri-horned horse heads, inverted Janus-like characters where one visage blurred into the other.

Soon it became apparent that they didn't need other collaborators; self-sufficiency was the natural way forward. At Isaac's behest Lee, already fed up with dealing with band musicians, began playing around with a poly-sonic Yamaha keyboard at the local music store. "It had everything on it – trumpet, bass, drums, organ," remembers Lee. "And that's when I started recording my own stuff."

The technology afforded Lee the flexibility and independence he craved, setting him on a path other bedroom musicians and producers around the world were simultaneously following through the '80s into the early '90s. Saving up money from day jobs, he eventually supplemented the Yamaha Isaac had gotten him with Roland and Casio drum machines and a Moog. Lee was living in an apartment in Hillside at that point caring for his dad, who'd been partially paralyzed since early in life. In the evenings up in his second floor room, the music put him in a zone where he could tune out everything and lose himself in his ideas.

"Oh I loved it," he recalls. "I would really experiment with the instruments and use a lot of different sound effects. I was looking for something nobody else had. I wanted something totally different. And once I found the sound I was looking for, I would just smoke me a good joint and just let it go, hit the record button." More potent a creative stimulant than even Isaac's weed was the holistic flow and spontaneity of recording. Between sessions at Isaac's place and Lee's apartment, their volume of output quickly ballooned.

"We was always recording," says Lee. "That's why we have so much music. Even when I went to Isaac's and we start creating, I get home, my mind is racing, I gotta start creating, creating, creating. I remember there were times when I took a 90-minute tape from front to back and just filled it up."

"We never practiced," says Isaac. "See, that was just so odd about the whole thing. I could relate to him, and tell him about the songs I had ideas for and everything and stuff. And then he would bring it back or whatever, and we'd get together and put it down." Once the taskmaster hell bent on rehearsing, Lee had flipped a full 180. Perfection was no longer an aspiration, but the enemy of inspiration.

"I seen where practicing and practicing got me," says Lee. "A lot of musicians you get to playing and they gotta stop, they have to analyze the music. But while you analyzing you losing a lot of the greatness of what you creating. Stop analyzing what you play, just play! And it'll all take shape."

=

"I hope you understood the beginning of the record because this was invented from a dream I had today… (You tell me, I'll tell you, we'll figure it out together)" – Lee Tracy and Isaac Manning, "Hope You Understand"

Lee lets loose a maniacal cackle when he acknowledges that the material that he and Isaac recorded was by anyone's estimation pretty out there. It's the same laugh that commences "Hope You Understand" – a chaotic transmission that encapsulates the duality at the heart of their music: a stated desire to reach people and a compulsion to go as leftfield as they saw fit.

"We just did it," says Lee. "We cut the music on and cut loose. I don't sit around and write. I do it by listening, get a feeling, play the music, and the lyrics and stuff just come out of me."

The approach proved adaptable to interpreting other artists' material. While recording a cover of Whitney Houston's pop ballad "Saving All My Love For You," Lee played Whitney's version in his headphones as he laid down his own vocals – partially following the lyrics, partially using them as a departure point. The end result is barely recognizable compared with the original, Lee and Isaac having switched up the time signature and reinvented the melody along the way towards morphing a slick mainstream radio standard into something that sounds solely their own.

"I really used that song to get me started," says Lee. "Then I said, well I need something else, something is missing. Something just came over me. That's when I came up with 'Is It What You Want.'"

The song would become the centerpiece of Lee and Isaac's repertoire. Pushed along by a percolating metronomic Rhythm King style beat somewhere between a military march and a samba, "Is It What You Want" finds Lee pleading the sincerity of his commitment to a potential love interest embellished by vocal tics and hiccups subtlely reminiscent of his childhood hero MJ. Absent chord changes, only synth riffs gliding in and out like apparitions, the song achieves a lingering lo-fi power that leaves you feeling like it's still playing, somewhere, even after the fade out.

"I don't know, it's like a real spiritual song," Lee reflects. "But it's not just spiritual. To me the more I listen to it it's like about everything that you do in your everyday life, period. Is it what you want? Do you want a car or you don't want a car? Do you want Jesus or do you want the Devil? It's basically asking you the question. Can't nobody answer the question but you yourself."

In 1989 Lee won a lawsuit stemming from injuries sustained from a fight he'd gotten into. He took part of the settlement money and with Isaac pressed up "Saving All My Love For You" b/w "Is It What You Want" as a 45 single. Isaac christened the label One Chance Records. "Because that's all we wanted," he says with a laugh, "one chance."

Isaac sent the record out to radio stations and major labels, hoping for it to make enough noise to get picked up nationally. But the response he and Lee were hoping for never materialized. According to Isaac the closest the single got to getting played on the radio is when a disk jock from a local station made a highly unusual announcement on air: "The dude said on the radio, 107.5 – 'We are not gonna play 'Is It What You Want.' We cracked up! Wow, that's deep.

"It was a whole racist thing that was going on," he reflects. "So we just looked over and kept on going. That was it. That was about the way it goes… If you were Black and you were living in Nashville and stuff, that's the way you got treated." Isaac already knew as much from all the times he'd brought he and Lee's tapes (even their cache of country music tunes) over to Music Row to try to drum up interest to no avail.

"Isaac, he really worked his ass off," says Lee. "He probably been to every record place down on Music Row." Nashville's famed recording and music business corridor wasn't but a few blocks from where Lee grew up. Close enough, he remembers, for him to ride his bike along its back alleys and stumble upon the occasional random treasure, like a discarded box of harmonicas. Getting in through the front door, however, still felt a world away.

"I just don't think at the time our music fell into a category for them," he concedes. "It was before its time."

=

Lee stopped making music some time in the latter part of the '90s, around the time his mom passed away and life became increasingly tough to manage. "When my mother died I had a nervous breakdown," he says, "So I shut down for a long time. I was in such a sadness frame of mind. That's why nobody seen me. I had just disappeared off the map." He fell out of touch with Isaac, and in an indication of just how bad things had gotten for him, lost track of all the recordings they'd made together. Music became a distant memory.

Fortunately, Isaac kept the faith. In a self-published collection of his poetry – paeans to some of his favorite entertainment and public figures entitled Friends and Dick Clark – he'd written that he believed "music has a life of its own." But his prescience and presence of mind were truly manifested in the fact that he kept an archive of he and Lee's work. As perfectly imperfect as "Is It What You Want" now sounds in a post-Personal Space world, Lee and Isaac's lone official release was in fact just a taste. The bulk of the Is It What You Want album is culled from the pair's essentially unheard home recordings – complete songs, half-realized experiments, Isaac's blue monologues and pronouncements et al – compiled, mixed and programmed in the loose and impulsive creative spirit of their regular get-togethers from decades ago. The rest of us, it seems, may have finally caught up to them.

On the prospect of at long last reaching a wider audience, Isaac says simply, "I been trying for a long time, it feels good." Ever the survivor, he adds, "The only way I know how to make it to the top is to keep climbing. If one leg break on the ladder, hey, you gotta fix it and keep on going… That's where I be at. I'll kill death to make it out there."

For Lee it all feels akin to a personal resurrection: "It's like I was in a tomb and the tomb was opened and I'm back… Man, it feels so great. I feel like I'm gonna jump out of my skin." Success at this stage of his life, he realizes, probably means something different than what it did back when he was singing and dancing in Isaac's front yard. "What I really mean by 'making it,'" he explains isn't just the music being heard but, "the story being told."

Occasionally Lee will pull up "Is It What You Want" on YouTube on his phone, put on his headphones, and listen. He remembers the first time he heard his recorded voice. How surreal it was, how he thought to himself, "Is that really me?" What would he say to that younger version of himself now?

"I would probably tell myself, hang in there, don't give up. Keep striving for the goal. And everything will work out."

Despite what's printed on the record label, sometimes you do get more than one chance.

• 1980s New York was where modern dance music took its first steps; a phoenix rising out of the ashes of disco’s over-exposure and demise. The underground scene was the very opposite of the celebrity-sprinkled commercialism of Studio 54 – “Lofts & Garages” looks at how the Spring label, with its brand new 1980s subsidiary Posse, reacted to the new movement.

• As an independent New York label, it was perfectly placed to understand new trends in the clubs; it worked with some of those who would go on to define the dance music of the era, and for a glorious summer tracked the important early work of Arthur Baker, Maurice Starr and Michael Jonzun. These began their careers with productions that included Ritz, Glory and Blaze – records that sounded perfect for 12-inch singles and mixed electronic instruments with a real feel for the dancefloor.

• Label mainstays Fatback were always searching for a new groove and kept an eye on the floor. Their final single for the label, ‘Spread Love’, was remixed by Morales and Munzibai. Fatback’s Bill Curtis and Gerry Thomas also produced the sought-after boogie single ‘Get Up An’ Dance (Dance With Me)’ for Mynk.

• Others featured include one of the most distinctive voices in dance music, Fonda Rae, with her single ‘Live It Up’, released here in its rare radio edit; veteran soul man Lonnie Youngblood with his gospel-influenced ‘Sing A Song’; Detroit dance pioneers C-Brand’s ‘Wired For Sound’ and Body’s ‘Have Your Cake’, which has an early mixing credit for dance music legend Timmy Regisford.

• These records may not have all worked on the floor of the Paradise Garage, but they were part of the energy that was given off by that and the rest of New York’s vibrant post-disco era.

For its latest album, Pirate Radio / Radio Pirata (Thirty Tigers), the band collaborated with major songwriters such as Blair Daly, Zac Maloy, and Sam Hollander for a triumphant and empowering collection of rock fused with an accessible pop structure and some of the everyday heart infused by Nashville’s country sound. “On this album, I’m free, and I can say things I was scared to say before. People deserve hope, and this record spreads a message,” Diaz says. The 11-song album will be released in English and Spanish—a unique feat for a rock release. SLP’s sophomore American release, Pirate Radio / Radio Pirata, is an artistic and personal milestone for the group. It is a concept album that loosely mirrors SLP’s journey to be artistically liberated against a stifling government regime, and the story unfolds with theatrical grandeur. The album’s unique melding of ultra-hooky choruses with ethereal ambience and passionate vocals and lyrics recalls such diverse artists as Paramore, Muse, and Olivia Rodrigo.

For its latest album, Pirate Radio / Radio Pirata (Thirty Tigers), the band collaborated with major songwriters such as Blair Daly, Zac Maloy, and Sam Hollander for a triumphant and empowering collection of rock fused with an accessible pop structure and some of the everyday heart infused by Nashville’s country sound. “On this album, I’m free, and I can say things I was scared to say before. People deserve hope, and this record spreads a message,” Diaz says. The 11-song album will be released in English and Spanish—a unique feat for a rock release. SLP’s sophomore American release, Pirate Radio / Radio Pirata, is an artistic and personal milestone for the group. It is a concept album that loosely mirrors SLP’s journey to be artistically liberated against a stifling government regime, and the story unfolds with theatrical grandeur. The album’s unique melding of ultra-hooky choruses with ethereal ambience and passionate vocals and lyrics recalls such diverse artists as Paramore, Muse, and Olivia Rodrigo.

The Independent - 5 star Glastonbury set review “Making their Glastonbury review, IOW collective Plastic Mermaids are a joy to behold at the Croissant-Neuf stage.” New single 'Girl Boy Girl' Girl Boy Girl is an uncomfortable place, an unspoken awkwardness and tension. Always convoluting, never resolving. Just like this perpetual frustration when a relationship isn’t right but none has the language or understanding to fix it. And then thinking that adding a 3rd party to the mix is going to solve the problems…oh dear. We took some inspiration from the song ‘Night Call’ on the Drive soundtrack and also some of the slower Daft Punk tunes. Kinda wanted it to feel like something you’d stick on cruising in your car after dark in the 80’s. It has been two years since Plastic Mermaids released their critically acclaimed debut ‘Suddenly Everyone Explodes’, and now they return to spread some eagerly awaited blissed out joy with new single Disco Wings & b side Environmental with their second album due next year. The band have been working hard in the studio teaming up with producer Ant Whiting, who has worked with the likes of MIA, John Newman and Lana De Ray, in what proved to be an exciting mix of creative ideas.

As the sun sets on a quaint East Nashville house, a young man bares a piece of his soul. Facing the camera, sporting a silky suit jacket/shirt/slacks/fingerless gloves ensemble that announces "singer" before he's even opened his mouth, Lee Tracy Johnson settles onto his stage, the front yard. He sways to the dirge-like drum machine pulse of a synth-soaked slow jam, extends his arms as if gaining his balance, and croons in affecting, fragile earnest, "I need your love… oh baby…"

Dogs in the yard next door begin barking. A mysterious cardboard robot figure, beamed in from galaxies unknown and affixed to a tree, is less vocal. Lee doesn't acknowledge either's presence. He's busy feeling it, arms and hands gesticulating. His voice rises in falsetto over the now-quiet dogs, over the ambient noise from the street that seeps into the handheld camcorder's microphone, over the recording of his own voice played back from a boombox off-camera. After six minutes the single, continuous shot ends. In this intimate creative universe there are no re-takes. There are many more music videos to shoot, and as Lee later puts it, "The first time you do it is actually the best. Because you can never get that again. You expressing yourself from within."

"I Need Your Love" dates from a lost heyday. From some time in the '80s or early '90s, when Lee Tracy (as he was known in performance) and his music partner/producer/manager Isaac Manning committed hours upon hours of their sonic and visual ideas to tape. Embracing drum machines and synthesizers – electronics that made their personal futurism palpable – they recorded exclusively at home, live in a room into a simple cassette deck. Soul, funk, electro and new wave informed their songs, yet Lee and Isaac eschewed the confinement of conventional categories and genres, preferring to let experimentation guide them.

"Anytime somebody put out a new record they had the same instruments or the same sound," explains Isaac. "So I basically wanted to find something that's really gonna stand out away from all of the rest of 'em." Their ethos meant that every idea they came up with was at least worth trying: echoed out half-rapped exhortations over frantic techno-style beats, gospel synth soul, modal electro-funk, oddball pop reinterpretations, emo AOR balladry, nods to Prince and the Fat Boys, or arrangements that might collapse mid-song into a mess of arcade game-ish blips before rallying to reach the finish line. All of it conjoined by consistent tape hiss, and most vitally, Lee's chameleonic voice, which managed to wildly shape shift and still evoke something sincere – whether toggling between falsetto and tenor exalting Jesus's return, or punctuating a melismatic romantic adlib with a succinct, "We all know how it feels to be alone."

"People think we went to a studio," says Isaac derisively. "We never went to no studio. We didn't have the money to go to no studio! We did this stuff at home. I shot videos in my front yard with whatever we could to get things together." Sometimes Isaac would just put on an instrumental record, be it "Planet Rock" or "Don't Cry For Me Argentina" (from Evita), press "record," and let Lee improvise over it, yielding peculiar love songs, would-be patriotic anthems, or Elvis Presley or Marilyn Monroe tributes. Technical limitations and a lack of professional polish never dissuaded them. They believed they were onto something.

"That struggle," Isaac says, "made that sound sound good to me."

In the parlance of modern music criticism Lee and Isaac's dizzying DIY efforts would inevitably be described as "outsider." But "outsider" carries the burden of untold additional layers of meaning if you're Black and from the South, creating on a budget, and trying to get someone, anyone within the country music capital of the world to take your vision seriously. "What category should we put it in?" Isaac asks rhetorically. "I don't know. All I know is feeling. I ain't gonna name it nothing. It's music. If it grabs your soul and touch your heart that's what it basically is supposed to do."

=

Born in 1963, the baby boy of nine siblings, Lee Tracy spent his earliest years living amidst the shotgun houses on Nashville's south side. "We was poor, man!" he says, recalling the outhouse his family used for a bathroom and the blocks of ice they kept in the kitchen to chill perishables. "But I actually don't think I really realized I was in poverty until I got grown and started thinking about it." Lee's mom worked at the Holiday Inn; his dad did whatever he had to do, from selling fruit from a horse drawn cart to bootlegging. "We didn't have much," Lee continues, "but my mother and my father got us the things we needed, the clothes on our back." By the end of the decade with the city's urban renewal programs razing entire neighborhoods to accommodate construction of the Interstate, the family moved to Edgehill Projects. Lee remembers music and art as a constant source of inspiration for he and his brothers and sisters – especially after seeing the Jackson 5 perform on Ed Sullivan. "As a small child I just knew that was what I wanted to do."

His older brother Don began musically mentoring him, introducing Lee to a variety of instruments and sounds. "He would never play one particular type of music, like R&B," says Lee. "I was surrounded by jazz, hard rock and roll, easy listening, gospel, reggae, country music; I mean I was a sponge absorbing all of that." Lee taught himself to play drums by beating on cardboard boxes, gaining a rep around the way for his timekeeping, and his singing voice. Emulating his favorites, Earth Wind & Fire and Cameo, he formed groups with other kids with era-evocative band names like Concept and TNT Connection, and emerged as the leader of disciplined rehearsals. "I made them practice," says Lee. "We practiced and practiced and practiced. Because I wanted that perfection." By high school the most accomplished of these bands would take top prize in a prominent local talent show. It was a big moment for Lee, and he felt ready to take things to the next level. But his band-mates had other ideas.

"I don't know what happened," he says, still miffed at the memory. "It must have blew they mind after we won and people started showing notice, because it's like everybody quit! I was like, where the hell did everybody go?" Lee had always made a point of interrogating prospective musicians about their intentions before joining his groups: were they really serious or just looking for a way to pick up girls? Now he understood even more the importance of finding a collaborator just as committed to the music as he was.

=

Isaac Manning had spent much of his life immersed in music and the arts – singing in the church choir with his family on Nashville's north side, writing, painting, dancing, and working various gigs within the entertainment industry. After serving in the armed forces, in the early '70s he ran The Teenage Place, a music and performance venue that catered to the local youth. But he was forced out of town when word of one of his recreational routines created a stir beyond the safe haven of his bohemian circles.

"I was growing marijuana," Isaac explains. "It wasn't no business, I was smoking it myself… I would put marijuana in scrambled eggs, cornbread and stuff." His weed use originated as a form of self-medication to combat severe tooth pain. But when he began sharing it with some of the other young people he hung out with, some of who just so happened to be the kids of Nashville politicians, the cops came calling. "When I got busted," he remembers, "they were talking about how they were gonna get rid of me because they didn't want me saying nothing about they children because of the politics and stuff. So I got my family, took two raggedy cars, and left Nashville and went to Vegas."

Out in the desert, Isaac happened to meet Chubby Checker of "The Twist" fame while the singer was gigging at The Flamingo. Impressed by Isaac's zeal, Checker invited him to go on the road with him as his tour manager/roadie/valet. The experience gave Isaac a window into a part of the entertainment world he'd never encountered – a glimpse of what a true pop act's audience looked like. "Chubby Checker, none of his shows were played for Black folks," he remembers. "All his gigs were done at high-class white people areas." Returning home after a few years with Chubby, Isaac was properly motivated to make it in Music City. He began writing songs and scouting around Nashville for local talent anywhere he could find it with an expressed goal: "Find someone who can deliver your songs the way you want 'em delivered and make people feel what you want them to feel."

One day while walking through Edgehill Projects Isaac heard someone playing the drums in a way that made him stop and take notice. "The music was so tight, just the drums made me feel like, oh I'm-a find this person," he recalls. "So I circled through the projects until I found who it was.

"That's how I met him – Lee Tracy. When I found him and he started singing and stuff, I said, ohhh, this is somebody different."

=

Theirs was a true complementary partnership: young Lee possessed the raw talent, the older Isaac the belief. "He's really the only one besides my brother and my family that really seen the potential in me," says Lee. "He made me see that I could do it."

Isaac long being a night owl, his house also made for a fertile collaborative environment – a space where there always seemed to be a new piece of his visual art on display: paintings, illustrations, and dolls and figures (including an enigmatic cardboard robot). Lee and Issac would hang out together and talk, listen to music, conjure ideas, and smoke the herb Isaac had resumed growing in his yard. "It got to where I could trust him, he could trust me," Isaac says of their bond. They also worked together for hours on drawings, spreading larges rolls of paper on the walls and sketching faces with abstract patterns and imagery: alien-like beings, tri-horned horse heads, inverted Janus-like characters where one visage blurred into the other.

Soon it became apparent that they didn't need other collaborators; self-sufficiency was the natural way forward. At Isaac's behest Lee, already fed up with dealing with band musicians, began playing around with a poly-sonic Yamaha keyboard at the local music store. "It had everything on it – trumpet, bass, drums, organ," remembers Lee. "And that's when I started recording my own stuff."

The technology afforded Lee the flexibility and independence he craved, setting him on a path other bedroom musicians and producers around the world were simultaneously following through the '80s into the early '90s. Saving up money from day jobs, he eventually supplemented the Yamaha Isaac had gotten him with Roland and Casio drum machines and a Moog. Lee was living in an apartment in Hillside at that point caring for his dad, who'd been partially paralyzed since early in life. In the evenings up in his second floor room, the music put him in a zone where he could tune out everything and lose himself in his ideas.

"Oh I loved it," he recalls. "I would really experiment with the instruments and use a lot of different sound effects. I was looking for something nobody else had. I wanted something totally different. And once I found the sound I was looking for, I would just smoke me a good joint and just let it go, hit the record button." More potent a creative stimulant than even Isaac's weed was the holistic flow and spontaneity of recording. Between sessions at Isaac's place and Lee's apartment, their volume of output quickly ballooned.

"We was always recording," says Lee. "That's why we have so much music. Even when I went to Isaac's and we start creating, I get home, my mind is racing, I gotta start creating, creating, creating. I remember there were times when I took a 90-minute tape from front to back and just filled it up."

"We never practiced," says Isaac. "See, that was just so odd about the whole thing. I could relate to him, and tell him about the songs I had ideas for and everything and stuff. And then he would bring it back or whatever, and we'd get together and put it down." Once the taskmaster hell bent on rehearsing, Lee had flipped a full 180. Perfection was no longer an aspiration, but the enemy of inspiration.

"I seen where practicing and practicing got me," says Lee. "A lot of musicians you get to playing and they gotta stop, they have to analyze the music. But while you analyzing you losing a lot of the greatness of what you creating. Stop analyzing what you play, just play! And it'll all take shape."

=

"I hope you understood the beginning of the record because this was invented from a dream I had today… (You tell me, I'll tell you, we'll figure it out together)" – Lee Tracy and Isaac Manning, "Hope You Understand"

Lee lets loose a maniacal cackle when he acknowledges that the material that he and Isaac recorded was by anyone's estimation pretty out there. It's the same laugh that commences "Hope You Understand" – a chaotic transmission that encapsulates the duality at the heart of their music: a stated desire to reach people and a compulsion to go as leftfield as they saw fit.

"We just did it," says Lee. "We cut the music on and cut loose. I don't sit around and write. I do it by listening, get a feeling, play the music, and the lyrics and stuff just come out of me."

The approach proved adaptable to interpreting other artists' material. While recording a cover of Whitney Houston's pop ballad "Saving All My Love For You," Lee played Whitney's version in his headphones as he laid down his own vocals – partially following the lyrics, partially using them as a departure point. The end result is barely recognizable compared with the original, Lee and Isaac having switched up the time signature and reinvented the melody along the way towards morphing a slick mainstream radio standard into something that sounds solely their own.

"I really used that song to get me started," says Lee. "Then I said, well I need something else, something is missing. Something just came over me. That's when I came up with 'Is It What You Want.'"

The song would become the centerpiece of Lee and Isaac's repertoire. Pushed along by a percolating metronomic Rhythm King style beat somewhere between a military march and a samba, "Is It What You Want" finds Lee pleading the sincerity of his commitment to a potential love interest embellished by vocal tics and hiccups subtlely reminiscent of his childhood hero MJ. Absent chord changes, only synth riffs gliding in and out like apparitions, the song achieves a lingering lo-fi power that leaves you feeling like it's still playing, somewhere, even after the fade out.

"I don't know, it's like a real spiritual song," Lee reflects. "But it's not just spiritual. To me the more I listen to it it's like about everything that you do in your everyday life, period. Is it what you want? Do you want a car or you don't want a car? Do you want Jesus or do you want the Devil? It's basically asking you the question. Can't nobody answer the question but you yourself."

In 1989 Lee won a lawsuit stemming from injuries sustained from a fight he'd gotten into. He took part of the settlement money and with Isaac pressed up "Saving All My Love For You" b/w "Is It What You Want" as a 45 single. Isaac christened the label One Chance Records. "Because that's all we wanted," he says with a laugh, "one chance."

Isaac sent the record out to radio stations and major labels, hoping for it to make enough noise to get picked up nationally. But the response he and Lee were hoping for never materialized. According to Isaac the closest the single got to getting played on the radio is when a disk jock from a local station made a highly unusual announcement on air: "The dude said on the radio, 107.5 – 'We are not gonna play 'Is It What You Want.' We cracked up! Wow, that's deep.

"It was a whole racist thing that was going on," he reflects. "So we just looked over and kept on going. That was it. That was about the way it goes… If you were Black and you were living in Nashville and stuff, that's the way you got treated." Isaac already knew as much from all the times he'd brought he and Lee's tapes (even their cache of country music tunes) over to Music Row to try to drum up interest to no avail.

"Isaac, he really worked his ass off," says Lee. "He probably been to every record place down on Music Row." Nashville's famed recording and music business corridor wasn't but a few blocks from where Lee grew up. Close enough, he remembers, for him to ride his bike along its back alleys and stumble upon the occasional random treasure, like a discarded box of harmonicas. Getting in through the front door, however, still felt a world away.

"I just don't think at the time our music fell into a category for them," he concedes. "It was before its time."

=

Lee stopped making music some time in the latter part of the '90s, around the time his mom passed away and life became increasingly tough to manage. "When my mother died I had a nervous breakdown," he says, "So I shut down for a long time. I was in such a sadness frame of mind. That's why nobody seen me. I had just disappeared off the map." He fell out of touch with Isaac, and in an indication of just how bad things had gotten for him, lost track of all the recordings they'd made together. Music became a distant memory.

Fortunately, Isaac kept the faith. In a self-published collection of his poetry – paeans to some of his favorite entertainment and public figures entitled Friends and Dick Clark – he'd written that he believed "music has a life of its own." But his prescience and presence of mind were truly manifested in the fact that he kept an archive of he and Lee's work. As perfectly imperfect as "Is It What You Want" now sounds in a post-Personal Space world, Lee and Isaac's lone official release was in fact just a taste. The bulk of the Is It What You Want album is culled from the pair's essentially unheard home recordings – complete songs, half-realized experiments, Isaac's blue monologues and pronouncements et al – compiled, mixed and programmed in the loose and impulsive creative spirit of their regular get-togethers from decades ago. The rest of us, it seems, may have finally caught up to them.

On the prospect of at long last reaching a wider audience, Isaac says simply, "I been trying for a long time, it feels good." Ever the survivor, he adds, "The only way I know how to make it to the top is to keep climbing. If one leg break on the ladder, hey, you gotta fix it and keep on going… That's where I be at. I'll kill death to make it out there."

For Lee it all feels akin to a personal resurrection: "It's like I was in a tomb and the tomb was opened and I'm back… Man, it feels so great. I feel like I'm gonna jump out of my skin." Success at this stage of his life, he realizes, probably means something different than what it did back when he was singing and dancing in Isaac's front yard. "What I really mean by 'making it,'" he explains isn't just the music being heard but, "the story being told."

Occasionally Lee will pull up "Is It What You Want" on YouTube on his phone, put on his headphones, and listen. He remembers the first time he heard his recorded voice. How surreal it was, how he thought to himself, "Is that really me?" What would he say to that younger version of himself now?

"I would probably tell myself, hang in there, don't give up. Keep striving for the goal. And everything will work out."

Despite what's printed on the record label, sometimes you do get more than one chance.

Ali Farka Touré trekked the world, bringing his beloved Malian music to the masses. Dubbed "the African John Lee Hooker," one could hear strong connections between the two; both employed a bluesy style of play with gritty textures that elicit calm and fury in equal measure. While the influence of Black blues music prevailed, Touré created a West African blend of 'desert blues' that garnered Grammy awards and widespread reverence. Though he transcended in 2006, Ali's musical legacy lives on through his son, Vieux aka "the Hendrix of the Sahara," an accomplished guitarist and champion of Malian music in his own right. On Ali, his collaborative album with Khruangbin, Vieux pays homage to his father by recreating some of his most resonant work, putting new twists on it while maintaining the original's integrity. The result is a rightful ode to a legend. Ali isn't just a greatest hits compilation. It's a lullaby, a remembrance of Ali's life through known highlights and B-sides from his catalog. It is a testament to what happens when creativity is approached through open arms and open hearts. "To me, music is magic, it is spontaneous, it is the energy between people," Vieux says. "I think Khruangbin understands this very well." The genesis of the album dates back to 2019, when Khruangbin, coming off their breakthrough album Con Todo el Mundo, was beginning to playto bigger crowds. The record was finished in 2021, as a global pandemic shuttered businesses and forced us to take stock of what Earth was becoming. Indirectly, Ali captures this as a moment of peace within a raging storm, a conversation between past and present without allegiance to suffering. Now, given Khruangbin's reach as a unit with legions of fans (including the likes of Jay-Z and Paul McCartney), they're poised to bring Malian music to broader groups of listeners. Ali is a masterful work in which the love surrounding it is just as vital as the music itself, driving it to unforeseen places; Vieux and Khruangbin are spreading the good word to a completely new generation. "I hope it takes them somewhere new, or puts them in a place they haven't felt or heard," Lee says. "It is about the love of new friendship and making something beautiful together," Vieux continues. "It is about pouring your love into something old to make it new again. In the end and in a word it is love, that's all."

Ali Farka Touré trekked the world, bringing his beloved Malian music to the masses. Dubbed "the African John Lee Hooker," one could hear strong connections between the two; both employed a bluesy style of play with gritty textures that elicit calm and fury in equal measure. While the influence of Black blues music prevailed, Touré created a West African blend of 'desert blues' that garnered Grammy awards and widespread reverence. Though he transcended in 2006, Ali's musical legacy lives on through his son, Vieux aka "the Hendrix of the Sahara," an accomplished guitarist and champion of Malian music in his own right. On Ali, his collaborative album with Khruangbin, Vieux pays homage to his father by recreating some of his most resonant work, putting new twists on it while maintaining the original's integrity. The result is a rightful ode to a legend. Ali isn't just a greatest hits compilation. It's a lullaby, a remembrance of Ali's life through known highlights and B-sides from his catalog. It is a testament to what happens when creativity is approached through open arms and open hearts. "To me, music is magic, it is spontaneous, it is the energy between people," Vieux says. "I think Khruangbin understands this very well." The genesis of the album dates back to 2019, when Khruangbin, coming off their breakthrough album Con Todo el Mundo, was beginning to playto bigger crowds. The record was finished in 2021, as a global pandemic shuttered businesses and forced us to take stock of what Earth was becoming. Indirectly, Ali captures this as a moment of peace within a raging storm, a conversation between past and present without allegiance to suffering. Now, given Khruangbin's reach as a unit with legions of fans (including the likes of Jay-Z and Paul McCartney), they're poised to bring Malian music to broader groups of listeners. Ali is a masterful work in which the love surrounding it is just as vital as the music itself, driving it to unforeseen places; Vieux and Khruangbin are spreading the good word to a completely new generation. "I hope it takes them somewhere new, or puts them in a place they haven't felt or heard," Lee says. "It is about the love of new friendship and making something beautiful together," Vieux continues. "It is about pouring your love into something old to make it new again. In the end and in a word it is love, that's all."

Nine-piece West Africa-via-Melbourne ensemble Ausecuma Beats and improvised collective Zeitgeist Freedom Energy Exchange, also known as Z*F*E*X, reveal a new collaborative EP out August 19 via Music in Exile.

Call it a match made somewhere in musical heaven, the minds behind Ausecuma Beats, comprised of members from Senegal, Mali, Cuba and Guinea, found they melded easily with Z*F*E*X following weeks of recording and sharing material remotely together.

Z*F*E*X themselves, an ensemble comprised of drummer Zeke ‘Ziggy’ Zeitgeist, keyboardist and producer Lewis Moody, bassist Matthew Hayes, and a rotating cast of guests, are prolific musicians themselves with weighty credentials spread across their base locations of Australia, the United Kingdom, and Europe.

Thus, from a backyard shed in Dandenong North, Australia, some of West Africa’s finest would record simple percussive tracks, which then surfed the airwaves via studios in Melbourne, Berlin and London, to finally land back on listeners doorsteps as a forthcoming collaborative EP, Deep Heat/Tropical Storm.

Starring two guest vocalists who are some of the most invigorating in their respective scenes - Latin America via Berlin star Gotopo, and Melbourne’s own Rara Zulu - the EP’s beginnings in percussive exploration are transformed into a must-have record of all bangers.

Expect the duelling minds of two highly respected acts to reveal a combined EP of complex compositions that remain wholly accessible thanks to addictive harmonies and melodies. Emotionally thrilling, and easy to love, listen and dance to.

FINALLY! THE HOLY GRAIL! In conjunction with BRMC themselves, Cobraside releases the definitive vinyl reissue of the band's 2000 self-titled debut album for Virgin Records, cut as a double LP, gatefold sleeve, with five bonus tracks from the original Screaming Gun CD EP, and new photos etc!

Vocalists/multi-instrumentalists Claus Lessmann and Michael Voss, who also produces acts such as Michael Schenker: a combination that makes rock fans sit up immediately. Considering the two’s various collaborations - lately as members of PHANTOM V - spread over several decades, »Rock Is Our Religion« is way more than a debut. The album, which was recorded and produced by Voss at German Kidwood Studios Münstertal and Kidroom Studios Greven (only Vincent Golly’s drums were tracked by Mathi Brandstetter at Home Studios Hamburg, Germany), rather is a relevation, a bow down to genuine rock packed in 49 minutes of handmade music performed to the point. Lessmann and Voss complement each other over these 12 tracks as if they hadn’t done anything else before: from mysteriously starting opener 'Medicine Man' to lead single 'Smoke Without A Fire', the recording of 'Take My Heart And Run', circling back to one of their earlier songwriting cooperations in the '90s, and the duo’s interpretation of AMERICA’s 1975 hit song 'Sister Golden Hair' (feat. Kenny Lessmann on drums and Martin Huch on pedal steel guitar), this album impressively shows that it still doesn’t need many frills to create impactful heavy music nowadays. Amen!

From a previous album dedicated exclusively to Soul music by the Roman producer Nerio Papik Poggi, this new project in the artistic name 'The Soultrend Orchestra' was born in 2017. The album titlereleased that year, '84 King Street', definied the musical genre to which it is dedicated. In fact, the address is that of the legendary New York club Paradise Garage from where Disco music in the late 70s was definitively launched all over the world by deejays David Mancuso and Larry Levan in the first place. So Soul and Disco are the predominance of this first album which has had great success in the sector so much so that the band has performed live in important European festivals.

This new album entitled Live For Funk starts from where the first left us musically to enter much more on the Funk sound, especially the English one of the early 80s and the American one linked to jazz musicians such as Donald Byrd or Roy Ayers who have been re-evaluated so much in the years starting from the Acid Jazz scene from the 90s onwards.

15 songs in total, including three covers, all three already released as digital singles. The three covers are remakes of cult songs from past
years in the Disco Funk world and exactly Get Down Saturday Night by Oliver Cheatham, Outstanding by the Gap Band and Act Like You
Know by the Fat Larry's Band. In the project Nerio Poggi brought with him his historical musicians such as Alfredo Bochicchio on guitars, Peter De Girolamo on keyboards, Massimo Guerra on trumpet, Fabio Tullio on sax, Simone 'Federicuccio' Talone on percussion and Luca Trolli on drums. In addition to a dozen other guest musicians also 8 different singers among which the names of Alan Scaffardi, Al Castellana, Kenneth Bailey and Danny Losito of Kaigo stand out

Taking direction from both the cinematic song stylings of sardonic yet
unfettered troubadours like Randy Newman, Brian Wilson, and Harry
Nilsson and the "visual scoring" of indie pop song placement in 21stcentury films, Best Move's music suggests the sound of a decade of
winding, disparate avenues finally convening in a perfect center
The Sacramento-based trio is composed of Kris Anaya, Joseph Davancens, and
Fernando Olivia. Anaya, a talented songwriter with a penchant for wry, offbeat
guitar-based folk-pop songs, and Davancens, who holds higher education degrees
in avant- garde composition and jazz double bass, formed the electronic act
Doombird together in 2016, but in 2019 the pair gravitated back to what they
consider more natural inclinations: organic instruments, earnest songwriting, and
a more true-to-themselves direction. Adding Oliva, Best Move was born. Many of
Best Move's songs maintain an intentionally similar sonic feel. Guitars strum and
piano twinkles while a layer of manipulated or synthesized instruments spread a
hazy overtone on top of it all, and steady yet minimal drums keep things moving.
Lyrically, the standards prevail - love, loss, friendship, searching for purpose - but
the themes bubble under the surface of a sea of metaphor, leaving the listener to
decipher the message in their own way. Anaya calls the sound a "thank you to the
past," and while a warm, familiar tone echoes throughout the band's universe,
something unmistakably modern remains.

A sound that embraces different styles and different eras, but which has only one basic concept as a common denominator: spreading the “Black Power Sound”.

That’s the spirit of the double vinyl compilation of Soul Fingers, a legendary Black Music traveling party that has now become a cult in Italy, still religiously followed by dancers of all kinds and ages.

At Soul Fingers it is usual to listen and dance to a unique and tasty blend of soul, disco and funk, with rap and latin rhythms. There are no preconceptions other than that of putting songs to feel good and make people feel good.

The real deal is to share with the dancefloor a record that is magical, full of soul and that can elevate us from our state of human beings to become a single beating heart under the speakers of the sound system.

Mr. K is back again with a double-sider that tackles the ups and downs of love and does it in fabulous style with two solid soul classics.

Yvonne Fair was a veteran of the soul music world when she finally got the chance to record her first full length album in 1975. She had recorded multiple singles under the guidance of James Brown (her “I Found You” was reworked by Brown into the chart-topper “I Got You (I Feel Good)”) and, after leaving the JB camp for the auspices of Motown, a clutch of 7-inches with Norman Whitfield. These were gathered together to form her first (and only) full-length, but before the album was completed a final song was added to fill things out. This last minute touch would turn out to be the crowning achievement of her career. “It Should’ve Been Me” didn’t seem to be a notable addition at first. The song was originally done by Kim Weston a decade earlier and then by Gladys Knight. But Fair’s version had something special. In addition to the novel addition of a percolating drum machine pulse, Fair imbued the lyrics with a heartfelt sincerity and gruff emotion that touched listeners in a way that other versions had missed. Released as a single in the UK in late ’75, the song rose to the top ten of the British charts by February of the following year, inspiring Motown to release it as a US single. The song never replicated its UK success in the States, but went on to have a long life as a staple of drag performances and gay club life. Gay club life being the heart of all great club life, it’s only natural that the impact of the song has continued to spread, from Adeva’s hit house version in 1991 to Miley Cyrus’s recent revival of the song. Danny Krivit pays tribute to this storied history with his own version, a simple yet effective edit that stays true to the original but gives DJs a little more room (and fans a little more time to sing along!) than the all-too-brief original.

Continuing on our theme of lovelorn loss and redemption, Mr. K turns his attention to the New Birth’s “Brand New Lover” for our B-side. While the original slowly moves from the tentative, immediate aftermath of breakup to the eventual positive path forward, Krivit’s edit jumps straight to the joyous resolution to find new love, riding a delicious call and response chorus punctuated by signature breakdowns from master producer Harvey Fuqua. Danny’s edit provides a natural uplifting opportunity that never stops building over the course of its extended five minutes. Until now, the track has only been available on the group’s debut 1970 full-length, and never on a 7-inch single.

As always, this release has been mastered to the highest standards and is certain to find a spot in the bags of discerning listeners and DJs alike.

Kalita are proud to unveil the first ever compilationvfocussing on the phenomenon of 'Burger Highlife', avcrossover of West African melodies with synthesizers, discovand boogie that took over Ghanaian airwaves during the 1980's and beyond. Highlighting key recordings fromvgenre-defining artists including Thomas Frempong andvGeorge Darko, as well as more obscure sought-after tracksvby elusive bands such as Aban and Uncle Joe's Afri-Beat,vKalita come to the rescue of audiophiles, DJs andvmusic-lovers alike with 'Borga Revolution!' Spread over avdouble-LP housed in a gatefold sleeve. Accompanied by av16-page booklet featuring extensive interview-based liner notes on each artist and never-before-seen archival photos.

The other well known 7” from STARFIRE, titled “Almost Insane”, was initially meant to be the “flagship” single for the Long Player “Get Off With Us” released in 1976 on the Dynamic Artists label. Almost no one was aware of the existence of this ultra rare biscuit, once simply thought to be just an LP track. Soon after being unearthed, the luxurious Funk infused seventies soul arrangement and high audio fidelity of “Make The Most of It” backed by the insanely good “Out of The Ghetto” made it one of the most sought after 45 in the rare soul community soon becoming a firm play of a handful spinners to include Dave Ripolles and Yours Truly. Hard work to track the guys down, all well in their seventies, all in the name of spreading the love. Enjoy and support the venture, and if you like the Spice of Ice too, please bundle up and spare something. One in every home!

Benefits are an issues-based music collective from Teesside in the
North East of England. They write songs about the urgencies that
concern them, and they play them loud.

Forming in 2019 and consisting of Kingsley Hall on vocals, Robbie
Major and Hugh Major on synths and noise, and Jonny Snowball
on drums, they quickly evolved from a standard shouty punk rock
outfit into a minimalist, overtly political band that merges noise,
hip-hop and industrial rock, creating an effect that feels urgent,
darkly hilarious and unsettling all at once.

Thus far, Benefits have been completely DIY yet, via a succession
of digital singles and accompanying videos through 2021, they
built a following that enabled them to complete a sold-out headline
UK tour in March 2022. They also gained fans in high places,
including Sleaford Mods, Black Francis, Garbage and Elijah Wood
and Steve Albini.

James and Ryan of Yard Act were also instant admirers and that’s
where their label Zen F.C. comes in. Using their ill-gotten major
label gains Zen F.C. are pressing Benefit’s single ‘Flag’ (backed
with ‘Empire’) on vinyl.

On working with Yard Act, Kingsley comments: “I think Benefits
come at some of the same subject matter that they talk about but
from a slightly different angle (and by ‘slightly different’ I really
mean ‘more frequent swearing’, though we've never said the C
word in a song unlike...ahem). We appreciate every bit of help
we’ve had off them, we just wish we could somehow repay that
kindness (not monetarily mind, we're totally skint).”

Yard Act’s James Smith says of the release: “Lots of bands are
saying all this stuff so what makes Benefits so special? Why do I
need to be told what I already know over and over again by a
shouty man from Teesside? Well, because no one else is saying it
with such physicality they sound like their voice box is about to
leap from their throat and eat your eyeballs. With that little bit of
influence we’ve garnered and the small fortune of money we now
have kicking about, I’m so glad we can play a part in spreading the
word on Benefits, because I think they’re well on their way to a
classic debut album, and I’m going to fucking love being able to
brag about how important I was in making it all happen.”

Camille Bertault and David Helbock are two of the most jawdroppingly talented members of the cohort of European jazz
musicians currently in their mid-Thirties. Their journeys in improvised
music are always adventurous, playful and exciting.
 She is the rising star of French vocal jazz. He, Austrian-born, is one
of the most fascinating pianists on the scene. Their personalities
appear to be polar opposites, yet Bertault’s livewire humour and
Helbock’s calm self-assuredness only appear different on the surface.
When it comes to the musical choices they make, they are
emphatically on the same page. Each is astonishingly versatile, with
an innate sense of dramaturgy. This voice / piano duo reaches
unbelievable levels of inventiveness here on ‘Playground’.
 “We both love Egberto Gismonti and Hermeto Pascoal, Björk and
Monk,” Helbock explains. “We also wanted a classical piece.” The
duo found the initial repertoire to explore and to spread their musical
wings with relative ease. Bertault’s vocal artistry is hers and hers
alone. Her voice is a magnificent instrument to carry a melody,
whether at breakneck speed and with devastating precision or at
pindrop volume. Helbock’s creativity, as he exploits all the sound
possibilities of the grand piano, is completely ‘sui generis’ as well. He
dampens the piano strings, he plays directly on them, he uses the
piano case as a percussion instrument, he makes use of electronics.
And ‘Playground’ is the first time he has worked with loops.
 His accompaniment therefore has an almost orchestral scale and
depth, a jewel case for this scintillating and very special voice. The
pair have written seven new numbers for the album: we hear the
whimsical blues of ‘Lonely Supamen’, the mysterious ‘Fabelwesen’,
the chanson-esque ‘Aide-moi’ and the ethereal-melancholic ‘Bizarre’.
 ‘Playground’ is a kaleidoscope of sounds and emotions which
invigorates, excites - and will always surprise. The craft and
technique may be breath taking, but neither musician ever forgets the
essential: “It’s not about showing strength or virtuosity, but about
expressing the truth of the moment,” says Camille Bertault. And that
is what she and David Helbock have delivered with each and every
track.

Gongs have played an integral role in the mythogeography of Asia. This is not music that aligns with national borders or ideas of homogenous populations, let alone racial stereotypes and exotic clichés. What connects all of these tracks is a simultaneous feeling of entrancement and social cohesion. Communal and collaborative, its form is hypnotically repetitious, melodies and rhythms spread out among the players using the technique of hocketing in which a flowing line is distributed among all the musicians. The effect is mesmerising, immediately intoxicating to anybody who loves Chicago footwork, free improvisation, Sun Ra or young hip hop producer Jetsonmade. The music is simple yet mysterious and enveloping, a sound world in which to disappear. A theory exists but this is not explained. - David Toop (extracts from the liner notes)

This project, Massif and Archipelago, is a field recording project initiated by Japanese sound artist Yasuhiro Morinaga, documenting traditional gong music by different Southeast Asian ethnic groups. The project aimed to examine the impact of the natural and social environment on the gong music culture of Southeast Asia. During the project, he visited over 50 different ethnic groups and made hundreds of recordings. This album presents a selection of the unique gong music from different ethnic minorities. The selected music has been divided into two broad sections: one focussing on the music from the Massif, i.e. mainland Southeast Asia (Central Highland of Vietnam and Northeast Cambodia), the other on music from the Archipelago, maritime Southeast Asia (the Luzon Islands of the Philippines, Borneo, Sulawesi, and the Flores Islands of Indonesia).

Clear Vinyl repress

1987... for those lucky enough visiting a decent import shop in that year could have seen a US import record with pink label showing a darts board with small text next to the picture saying "Target records" and "Joe R Lewis". Pretty sure nobody at that time would be alarmed by this... reading further it said....1. Love Of My Own... Written and produced by Joe R Lewis... in even smaller text the label info continued; mixed by Larry Heard! And even that, at that time that would not have ringed a bell, except for maybe a couple of dj's who only just in the last couple months picked up copy of a Mr Fingers record and memorised the writter credits. We're talking the very early days of House music, the pre-internet era where new music and info didnt spread all over the globe within a couple of seconds.... Now more then 30 years later this is a holy grail for worldwide record collectors and house aficionados, still not all info is clear. Rumors go that this record was produced after a recording sessions of Larry Heard and he helped Joe Lewis with the mixdown... but like all good stories there is a cloud of mystery covering up the details!. On the flip side there is one of the best tracks ever produced by Joe Lewis,.... Life Immoreal... a track so elegant and beautiful that it hurts!! Two of the best tracks Chicago House music has to offer in remastered versions taken from the original master tapes on this latest outing of Clone Classic Cuts!!

Working closely with two time Grammy winner Victor Rice (Easy Star All- Stars, Bixiga 70, Ticklah), JonQuan fashions brand new tunes that evoke the majesty of the golden age of reggae.

The digital version is 20 tracks with instrumentals and vocal versions while the vinyl version features all 10 of the vocal versions on black vinyl.

The singles released from this album have caught the ear of the tastemakers of the reggae world, including David Rodigan, who has spun multiple songs on his weekly BBC show

One of the most rewarding things about this business is when we get the chance to re-release some true works of art which were previously hindered by their lack of availability. Plus, you KNOW that we LOVE every Willie Tee record we come across anyway. This time we're delighted to make available another double-sided slice of New Orleans niceness.

"Concentrate" is Willie at his mellow best with the Gaturs on this incredible 1980 recording, which really highlights just how great he was. On the flip, is a brilliant piece of New Orleans Mellow Funk which matches the sound of Roy Ayers for pure quality. Original copies of this record are not currently available anywhere for any amount of money. That's how ridiculously rare the original Gatur copies are. We have a great track record with Willie Tee and long may it continue! One of the best double-siders you'll ever be likely to hear and an absolute gas to get to reissue. Spread the joy. Another biggy!

»Obsessions« is clearly a cult single of the era and one of their Neon's personal highlights. The band recorded the 4 track live in April 1982 and then reprocessed the take at Kindergarten Studio. The twelve inch was then released on the highly influential indie label Materiali Sonori. Neon is still considered as a legend of the Italian new-wave scene, one of the leading figure of the Florence underground movement that spread between the late '70s and the early' 80s.

This recently unearthed recording captures saxophonistAlan Braufman with his five-piece band in an early 1975 live radio session soon after recording his debut album Valley of Search for the India Navigation label. This was the first meeting of William Parker and Cooper-Moore, whose musical partnership has flourished ever since. The 94-minute performance is spread over 5 sides on 3 LPs / 2CDs. Newly mastered with liner notes by the host, Susan Mannheimer. Braufman has earned worldwide acclaim after the 2018 reissue ofValley of Search, and 2020's new album, The Fire Still Burns.

The progressive metal band Queensrÿche broke into the mainstream with their acclaimed 1988 album Operation: Mindcrime. The album featured the first charting hits of the band, “Eyes of a Stranger” and “I Don’t Believe in Love”. Operation: Mindcrime was certified Platinum by the RIAA not long after its release. The album follows the story of Nikki, a drug addict who becomes disillusioned with the corrupt society of his time and reluctantly becomes involved with a revolutionary group as an assassin of political leaders.

Its sequel, Operation: Mindcrime II was released in 2006 and contained the singles “I’m American” and “The Hands”. It picked up the story where the original left off, with Nikki out of prison and seeking revenge for the killing of his beloved former prostitute turned nun, Sister Mary.
In support of the album, the band went on tour and performed the two albums in their entirety for three consecutive nights in October 2006 at The Moore Theatre in Seattle.

For the very first time, the live album Mindcrime At The Moore is now available on vinyl. The 4LP set is available as a limited edition of 3500 individually numbered copies on translucent red, solid white & black marbled vinyl and contains an insert.

Love Tractor's forward-sounding 1988"s "Themes From Venus" will be
treated to a remastered edition on March 18, 2022, by Propeller Sound
Recordings.

Housed in fully redesigned gatefold artwork, the band's fourth release is given a chance to spread the Art Rock pioneers' music out of this world. Considered a founder of the Athens, Georgia alternative music scene'along with The B-52"s, Pylon, and REM. After its original release, Love Tractor embarked on a healthy touring regime to promote the record, including a 60-date stint with The B-52s on
their Cosmic Thing tour. Though the band went on hiatus in the early 1990s, they would return again in 2001 and are currently working on new music.Packaging: CD Remastered & Expanded with 6 Bonus Tracks and Full-Color insert.

"The core of confusion and upheaval that drove some of the band's most fiery earlier work, however, is replaced by a more stabilized undercurrent, a mentality that's reflected in songs not afraid to try new things and honestly explore uncomfortable feelings. When combined with exciting production and songwriting choices, that mindset helps make Feels So Good // Feels So Bad one of the Shivas' best albums.” - AllMusic "Portland, Oregon-hailing psych-surf band The Shivas accomplish another time-traveling, reverb-ridden sound that refuses to get boring. Jared Molyneux’s guitar work knows when to be bright or bashful at the right times, breaking into guitar solos that possess a late-’60s groove… The Shivas seem to blissfully flourish” - Paste "a consistent treat for the ears” - The Vinyl District "Though the psych-tinged guitar riff that drives 'Feels So Bad' was written while The Shivas were still on the road, its lyrics didn’t fall into place until the band was well into lockdown, unsure of when they’d be able to return to their most imperative true love: Live shows... Accordingly, 'Feels So Bad' permeates with a sense of urgent desperation, building off a chugging prog-rock instrumental.” - Consequence (on “Feels So Bad”) "They hooked the audience with their throwback rock sounds. The guitar strums and rhythmic drum beats were layered atop smooth and hallucinogenic vocals. The eyes can tell the take at times and there was a sparkle there that said that the band members just love doing live performances." - California Rocker "This single layers on the fuzz but keeps it dreamy, with an especially sticky guitar riff sure to lodge itself in your brain with minimal effort." - Portland Monthly (on “If I Could Choose”) “'My Baby Don’t' translates the genuine vibrant joy


of the live experience into the studio, bringing the band’s ‘60s garage rock roots, sharp pop vocal harmonies, and fervent performances along for the ride." - Under The Radar "Perfectly straddling the line between a solid-head bopping track and an introspective deep cut, The Shivas’ 'Undone' is a rock & roll gem. The track sounds straight out of the late 60s and fits seamlessly in the Portland band’s electrifying catalog." - The Luna Collective "The first time I clicked play on this track, I knew it was a yes for me." - Ear To The Ground Music (on “If I Could Choose”) "The harmonies would make the “Happy Together” Turtles blush, but the unsettling guitar doesn’t shy away from the woollier implications of the ’60s." - Willamette Week (on “If I Could Choose”) "'Undone' is just the perfect song for the good days and the bad ones." - GlamGlare "another hit" - Austin Town Hall (on “Undone”) "one of the best forthcoming albums of the year" - Austin Town Hall RADIO: #3 Most Added @ NACC - 50 official adds BIO Every working musician has had their life turned upside down by Covid-19. For The Shivas, who had recently released a new LP and normally keep a rigorous touring schedule, it was a particularly screeching halt. “We were about to go to SXSW, the following weekend was Treefort in Boise, and then we were going to open for our friends’ band on tour in the US before going to Europe,” Jared Molyneux remembers. Then everything just stopped. They were faced with a dilemma. “It forced us to adapt or just quit,” Molyneux says. “The reality is that shows are our job.” In truth, live shows aren’t just The Shivas job: they are the band’s greatest love. Shivas shows are bombastic, explosive and thoroughly communal live rock and roll experiences where barriers between the performers and their audience seem to dissolve into the sweat and sound. The stage—or the basement, or the living room—that’s The Shivas’ true element. It’s their raison d’etre. It’s their religion. The band’s live urgency may have been born in 2006, when the band’s young members—who began booking West Coast tours while still in high school—waited without fanfare on sidewalks or in parking lots, before being rushed onstage for their sets at 21-and-up clubs. Maybe it developed a little later, as The Shivas blasted their way through Portland’s storied and unsanctioned mid-aughts house show scene. Whatever the origin of their famously kinetic live experience, it’s the show that keeps them coming back after over 1,000 performances spread over 25 countries in 15 years. In those 15 years, The Shivas have grown tight-knit as a group. Guitarist/singer Jared Molyneux, bassist Eric Shanafelt and drummer/singer Kristin Leonard have all been with the band since its earliest days; guitarist Jeff City, another high school friend, joined in 2017. Together they’ve learned to thread a seemingly impossible needle: They’ve honed and tightened their performances without sacrificing the element of surprise that makes each show special. And despite touring and recording for most of their lives, they speak about their project with humility, in the DIY vernacular of their Pacific Northwest upbringing. They talk up their own favorite bands, play all-ages shows as much as possible, and bring a sort of blue-collar humanism to the live performances they relish so much. “We just want to make people feel good,” Molyneux says. “We want them to forget they have to work tomorrow.” Kristin Leonard elaborates, “The live show is all about that feeling of catharsis—in ourselves and in everyone who comes out. We’re creating this safe space where we can all let go. Where we can exhale. And it feels really good when we are able to facilitate that.” So when Covid hit, the band knew it was time for transformation. After a settling realization that live music would be grounded for the foreseeable future, The Shivas booked significant studio time with Cameron Spies, who also produced the 2019 Dark Thoughts LP. They also transformed their lives: three of the band’s four members found work with a local nonprofit serving unhoused Portland residents. They became engaged in protests and fundraisers for social justice. They spent a whole summer actually living in Portland, settling into the city they had always called home, but that sometimes felt like a temporary stop between tours. “We got into a more community-minded headspace,” Leonard says. “And that did give us some purpose. It felt cool to see everybody come together to stick up for what they believe in. It feels like an incredibly formative last twelve months.” The album that emerged from this new moment finds The Shivas reborn as a band that seems seasoned and perfectly at home with itself. There is a calm, even a hopefulness, to Feels So Good // Feels So Bad that sounds new. The Shivas didn’t write or record the album with a particular theme in mind, but one seems to have emerged: where Dark Thoughts was about confronting your demons with fearless self-examination, much of Feels So Good // Feels So Bad is about what happens once you find that peace: how being honest with yourself changes your relationships and your priorities. “I do think it’s about acceptance,” Leonard says. “There’s a weird relaxation that comes with being at peace with things you can’t control or have regrets about.” Maybe that’s why the squealing, riff-laden break-up song opener, “Feels So Bad,” is such a shock to the system. But it’s more of an exorcism than a melodrama: more a song about not being able to do the thing you love (in


this case, playing live shows) than splitting with a partner. “It’s like part of you goes to sleep,” Leonard says. As bandmates who are also in a long-term relationship, Molyneux and Leonard know that their songs might be seen as glimpses into their personal lives, but their songwriting is rarely autobiography. Leonard compares their process to something more akin to screenwriting. “There’s bound to be some autobiographical material in there,” she says. “But the common denominator is the exploration of universal feelings: ones that everyone experiences or can relate to.” The goal is to use the music to drill down into something genuine and sincere, beyond genre or stylistic affectation. That’s where The Shivas have arrived. Whatever growth led the band to Feels So Good // Feels So Bad, plenty of their fascinations remain. They’re still turning love songs into psychedelic, transcendent epics. “Tell Me That You Love Me” subverts doo-wop extravagance and dabbles in Flamenco rhythms. “Rock Me Baby” is a bubblegum anthem soaked in so much reverb that we might just be hearing it from the stadium nosebleeds. “Sometimes” is almost impossibly huge, like a witchy outtake from the Brill Building era. Those songs feel like logical expansions from a band that has always excelled at a timeless sort of rock and roll that tinkers with and explodes elements from every era. But on the towering and mournful “You Wanna Be My Man,” a slow-burning six-minute shoegaze prayer for a higher sort of love, there is a level of emotional nuance that feels like something altogether revolutionary. It’s there again in the stripped-down vulnerability of the album-closing elegy “Please Don’t Go.” Yes, Feels So Good // Feels So Bad is an album about acceptance. Sometimes that acceptance feels enlightened and sometimes it feels like the end result of a lot of kicking and screaming. The Shivas have adapted in both of those ways. With new tours scheduled and a new album on the way, they’re still hoping--like all of us--for a new era of vibrant, cathartic live music. The lessons they learned from having their normal upended, though, have only helped them grow

Spread across 4-tracks, the producer offers fanciful instrumentation and production while conveying a narrative of preservation for mother nature.
The theme of Mother Land is inspired by one of Nohan’s main interests: nature. In response to ongoing climate change and global environmental degradation, he opted to craft a project that captured the planet's beauty - with a message of sustainability.

The EP is a faithful representation of Nohan the producer - packed with his love for the piano, ipnothic synths, and suspended ambient compositions. The project opens with the title track - kickstarting the subtle, yet palpable production rooted in tangible instrumentation. “The world’s on fire… It’s calling out for you and me” are the opening lines from the vocalist, reminding listeners that earth’s fate revolves around us.

“Heavenly Sing” presents a more upstart offering, with loose shakers and scintillating keys leading. This more tropical take provides optimism in sound, serving as prose for uplifting introspection in headphones as well as the ADID dancefloor. “The Sun in December” reflects its title - somber piano leads the way through a serene, melancholy soundscape. The EP also includes an ambient take on “Mother Land,” which strips its electronic backing in the intro to draw focus to the words and theme of the project.

Noahn makes a perfect fit with this emblematic imprint.

'PULSE 01' is the first release in PITP's new series, which is an ongoing exploration of ambient tech, while offering a more structured display of beat-driven ambient music. Pulse 01 features brand new tracks by SYNE and Influx. SYNE is Dennis Huddleston from the UK, who is most recognized for his ambient work as 36. He returns to his SYNE alias for the first time in nearly 5 years, with only his second record since his 2017 self-titled debut LP. 'Dystalgia' is a 12 minute opus, spread over 3 movements. Soaring pads and razor sharp percussion combine for a dynamic, emotionally charged journey in sound. Showing love to the Detroit greats, but recognising the distinct UK influence which made him fall in love with Techno in the early 90's, it's a surprising pivot in Dennis' sound and one which all lovers of beautiful, melodic ambient techno should enjoy. Influx is James Bernard from the US, who is most recognized for his solo work in recent years. Influx was his trance/techno alias for much of the early to late 90's and released his work with well-respected UK and US labels.

'PULSE 01' is the first release in PITP's new series, which is an ongoing exploration of ambient tech, while offering a more structured display of beat-driven ambient music. Pulse 01 features brand new tracks by SYNE and Influx. SYNE is Dennis Huddleston from the UK, who is most recognized for his ambient work as 36. He returns to his SYNE alias for the first time in nearly 5 years, with only his second record since his 2017 self-titled debut LP. 'Dystalgia' is a 12 minute opus, spread over 3 movements. Soaring pads and razor sharp percussion combine for a dynamic, emotionally charged journey in sound. Showing love to the Detroit greats, but recognising the distinct UK influence which made him fall in love with Techno in the early 90's, it's a surprising pivot in Dennis' sound and one which all lovers of beautiful, melodic ambient techno should enjoy. Influx is James Bernard from the US, who is most recognized for his solo work in recent years. Influx was his trance/techno alias for much of the early to late 90's and released his work with well-respected UK and US labels.

Gordon Koang is a fountain of warmth and joy, immediately accepting any stranger who strays into his presence. With a beaming smile that is unfettered by blindness, a condition he has lived with since birth, Gordon welcomes any and all around him, encouraging them to sit for a while and chat, maybe even to share a song.

Originating from the Nile Valley in what is now South Sudan, Koang was born blind and began playing music from an early age, busking on the streets of Juba and producing his own self-released CD-R’s and cassettes, before becoming a crowd favourite and recording a series of singles and music videos celebrating South Sudan’s cultural wealth. His music went viral, spreading throughout the country, and Koang was invited to perform at everything from weddings and political rallies to church meetings and parties alike. His reputation quickly grew as the poet and homegrown hero of the Nuer people, sometimes called the ‘Michael Jackson of South Sudan’.

In 2013, while Koang was performing to expatriate Nuer communities in Australia, renewed conflict broke out at home. He made a difficult and heartbreaking decision to not return to Sudan, applying to the Australian government for humanitarian protection. After six long years of waiting, living in a foreign country far away from his family, he now proudly calls himself an ‘Australian’, and eagerly awaits the day he will rejoin his wife and children in safety.

Unity is, remarkably, Gordon’s eleventh full-length album, and his first since coming to Australia. It is his only recorded output in a painstakingly long six years of living as an asylum seeker, mostly recorded in the last winter months of 2019, when Gordon began performing with local musicians through the Music in Exile label. The album was completed just weeks before Gordon was awarded his permanent residency. He could have had no way of knowing, and yet there is no frustration in the songs, not a shred of impatience or anger - only Gordon’s unending positivity, his love of all people and of the world he has never seen.

The sixth release on Phoq U Phonogrammen, the sordid and rash U-TRAX sublabel, may be from its least known artist, but it is our personal favorite Phoq U release. The style can perhaps best be described as acid funk. Though the drums and bass lines generally are rather tight, all tracks have these quirky synth lines that give them a rather funky, dark 'cyborg feel'.
Lynx is Reyer Caderius van Veen - and he didn't chose that name himself. Reyer is from Groningen, the mayor city in the most northern region of The Netherlands. It's a vibrant student town, with lots of music going on.

In the 90s, Reyer participated in a techno-foundation, together with Thee J. Johanz (Ballyhoo Records) and Johan Sagel, who released a 12" as Jo-I on U-TRAX in 1995. Together with Johan, Reyer also formed a band called L.A.P. 01 (Live Acid Performance), which released a 12", a 10" and a remix on Jan Liefhebber's Highland Beats and a track on Ballyhoo Records (BALL 100).
Harsh starts off with some terribly hard and high tones, that sound like a nuclear plant is going to melt down. The ferocious bassdrum and grunting acid bass line add to the uncomfortable mood.
What makes us really happy is Sex On Jupiter. It's a rushed track that completely opens up around the 1:20 mark with a desolate, yet funky sawtooth 303 bassline.

On the flipside, Changes brings a nice pumping rhythm combined with a rolling bassline with all sorts of disturbing sounds on top.
The EP closes off with another highlight of darkness: Dark Mission. The track has a lovely flow, but really starts to space you out as soon as a hoarse sounding pulsating synth spreads it wings across the deliciously bubbling 303.
To be short: this is an uncomfortable record, and we love it!

Original release date: August 1996.

We first discovered this when Noir recieved the promo from Ten Ven.Noir then started spreading the word about his love for this new 'Ten Ven' act and shortly after we were generously offered to release it on Noir Music.
We did not hesitate for a second to sign this and we are delighted to be able to present such a great 4-tracker on the label from a new and exciting act. Not only do we believe that Ten Ven could be the next big thing but we also strongly believe that these solid house grooves might lead the way of the changes in the underground this year. Its a throw-back to french and filtered house as it started out more than 20 years ago melted into todays production techniques. It's super refreshing to hear this sound again and we promise there's more to come over the summer period.

Salute to the Sun: Live at Halleì St Peter's documents a very special concert recorded at the iconic Manchester venue during lockdown.

Released in November 2020, Matthew's Halsall's Salute to the Sun was the trumpeter's first album since 2015's Into Forever, and marked the debut of his new band. A hand-picked ensemble featuring some of Manchester's finest young musicians. The album drew it's energy from the band's weekly sessions and was inspired by Halsall's love of nature. Lush and spiritual it received universal praise, but Halsall and his band were frustrated that they were unable to share their beautiful new sound live with an audience.



On November 25th 2020, Halsall took his band into the iconic Manchester venue, Hallé St Peter's, for a concert recording in aid of the charity Mind, that was streamed on January 21st 2021 to a global audience in the thousands. The concert was also recorded for posterity.



"When we recorded Salute to the Sun, I wanted to create something playful but also quite earthy and organic that connected to the sounds in nature. It seemed to strike a chord with people and I was blown away by the response to the album. Our concert film, recorded at the height of last winter's lockdown was a special moment for us all and I feel that the concert recording captured something beautiful that we wanted to share".



Salute to the Sun: Live at Halleì St Peter's features Matthew Halsall– trumpet, Matt Cliffe- flute & saxophone, Maddie Herbert– harp, Gavin Barras– bass, Liviu Gheorghe– piano, Alan Taylor– drums and Jack McCarthy- percussion



The recording has been mixed by Matthew Halsall and George Atkins at 80 Hertz and is mastered by Peter Beckmann at Technology Works. The vinyl was cut at Calyx in Berlin and the album is pressed at Optimal in Germany. It is presented in the form of a limited edition 2LP set with artwork by legendary designer Ian Anderson of The Designers Republic.



Spread over three sides of the vinyl LP for maximum fidelity the fourth side of the LP (side D) features an etching of Daniel Halsall's now iconic artwork for the album Salute to the Sun and copies are strictly limited with just 3000 available in total. The album will also be available for download and on streaming platforms.

One of Detroit’s finest exports is legendary house and techno pioneer, Gari Romalis, and as we enter what could potentially be a summer of love he creates an outstanding four track EP, “Black Traxx Matter”, spreading a message which scratches way below the surface, using music as a tool to share. The body of work spans across distinctive and slinky deep house energy, oozing class and emotion, notably what we have all come to love and adore in Romalis’ back catalogue. Music from the soul, for the soul, coming soon on Italian label, Nicepeople.

Opener “Black 2 Da Future” rides an effortlessly cool groove, brushing by in the summer breeze, paying homage to brighter days. Next up is “Black Diamondz (Africa Mix) consisting of a tight and punchy drum arrangement, and warm and infectious sub bass. Welcoming you with open arms.

“Black Luv” is lighter on its feet than the previous tracks, a definite housey spring in its step, all of the elements conversing in sweet harmony. A cruise down nostalgia lane. “Purpose Reprise (Motivate Mix)” closes this wonderful EP, six and a half minutes of pure bliss which shifts into a pure and powerful moment when a spoken word sample enters the room, as the soft keys work their way around the message.

A masterpiece body of work from one of the most esteemed artists in the game. The Nicepeople label keep continuing to propel high quality sounds from new and established artists, with a healthy schedule already pencilled in for 2021.

Every once in a while, a band emerges ready to take on the world. Sweden's own Knights Of The Realm bring the thunder and deliver the goods (pun intended). From the first note of the intro, to the last on the outro, they deliver their own lovingly crafted blend of classic 80's metal. Knights Of The Real is many years of heavy metal experience combined into a pure vicious heavy metal machine. Larry "The Hammer" Shield (Lars Sköld) has toured the globe and recorded with legendary band Tiamat for as long as he can remember, and is without a shadow of a doubt the band's backbone. Megalomagnus (Magnus Henriksson) has been making history with his band Eclipse since the end of the 90's and is a bonafide guitar hero, who's both capable of some heavy duty riffage as well as delivering gorgeous melodies. Mean Machine (Marcus Von Boisman) has been working in the shadows of metal for many years, and played with Swedish bands Windupdeads and Stormen. And as far as the Mean Machine goes, well, the name says it all! He delivers the soaring rock vocals we all love, with attitude and feeling. The love for classic heavy metal is the driving force behind this band. The aim from the beginning was to write heavy metal hits that should, or could, have been on the albums they grew up listening to. When the songwriting process began, it was like opening Pandora's box. The overall feeling was that those songs were calling out to be written and to be played, and the band's collective ideas, dreams and experiences merged into something new, something that can hopefully lure a new generation of rockers into that metal club we all love. Knights of the Realm is a Swedish heavy metal band, and their aim is to spread their music to as many metal heads as possible, all the while having a blast doing it. They are getting ready to go on a crusade, and to take their true place on the metal throne as Knights Of The Realm.

Repress !

Clive From Accounts has entered the meeting! A relative newcomer to the scene, his name may conjure mundane images of faxes, spreadsheets and dull chat by the water cooler, but Mr Clive has turned in a beautifully realized 4 tracker of slick deepness for his first outing on RNT Reserve.

From the epic crescendo of Tell Me, the lush and wistful vibe of Without Your Love, to the quirky sampled groove of the EP’s title track, finishing with the icey late nate breaks-meets-bass thud of Yukon, this record is Strictly Business indeed, and the best kind.

Will Varley is pleased to announce new album “The Hole Around My Head”, his first new material since 2018. With it comes the single ‘Pushing Against Us’.

The album will be the first to be released on Yellow Cake, a brand new record label and artist protection entity set up by record producer Cameron McVey (internationally renowned for his work with Massive Attack, Portishead, Sugababes, and his wife Neneh Cherry). McVey produced Varley’s last album, 2018’s The Spirit Of Minnie, and the two stayed in touch. “When I started writing this new album I gave Cam a call and he told me he was starting a label, so things went from there,” Varley explains.

The singer songwriter self-produced the new album over the Winter lockdown in his makeshift studio on the Kent coast, playing most of the instruments himself. Having never produced an album before, he had McVey on hand via video call to offer encouragement and advice from his family spread deep in the Swedish forest.

bazaar mutant disco from the french collective "spaced out krew". timeless productions created for peoples potential unlimited during 2020, featuring spleen3000 and marius cyrilou from ceeofunk