Buscar:sq 1

Kneading dough is tricky – you should know how it’s supposed to feel. If you try too hard you could make it worse. It’s a beautiful practice – creation with a gentle touch, to work at something so it can be left alone. “If it’s too drawn out it’s awful. It’s easy to give too much.” Dance in the mirror. Contemplate your veiny hands. Who do they remind you of?

You begin by mixing flour and water. “What happens when your people die? Why’d they move the rock to the other side of Ulster Park?” Eliza Niemi asks two seemingly unrelated questions in a rising melody with guitar accompaniment, like fingers playing spider up to the nape of your neck. Gentle pressure. Strands of gluten form to bind the mix. A new question lingers in the binding. When she admits “but I don’t know how to tell if I’m feeling it or not,” that question surfaces through the text. It is reiterated throughout the album. When I’m working with dough I think the same thing to myself.

On Progress Bakery, her second album as a solo artist, Eliza knows to leave some questions alone – to let juxtaposition and tension be the proof. It doesn’t have to be hard. The feelings and revelations they provoke rise in the heat. The smell is sweet. Crispy on the outside and soft all the way through. She playfully slip-slides through words and sounds and images, delighting in surprise, skimming ideas like stones cast across clear water, touching down briefly with uncommon grace.

The question provoked between those opening lines resurfaces in the strands between songs – “Do U FM” is fully formed and beautifully layered, while “Novelist Sad Face” is a short, acapella rendering of gentle curiosity. What is holding these ideas together? Some songs demand more, seem to carry a whole load – eventually the skipping stone will halt to sink and resume its idle duty – while others drift in and out of focus, the way thoughts and dreams become interwoven before the mind is sunk into true sleep.

Music and words don’t always have to interact. Where she decides to keep them apart gives a new contour to where and how she puts them together. The kind of thing you’re supposed to take for granted with songs and their singers comes alive in Eliza’s hands – the little miracle of mixing, kneading, stretching, and stopping.

So often on Progress Bakery, Eliza teases out truth and meaning by asking questions. “Do I wanna be crying?” “Do you want me good or do you want me bad?” “Do I need an eye test?” “I’m writing songs in my head while you’re going over stuff with me — is that cruel??” In “Pocky” Eliza ends with a question that feels to me like the actual biography, succinct and revealing:

I don’t wanna be made to see
I just wanna ask “what’s that?”

Grace that ought to be rare, but in its care and precision is offered humbly, with great generosity, and without announcing itself. Eliza’s simple, miraculous music is given further form and shape by a group of collaborators – invaluable guest musicians Jeremy Ray, Evan Cartwright, Steven McPhail, Kenny Boothby, Ed Squires, Carolina Chauffe, Dorothea Paas, Louie Short, and Avalon Tassonyi. Together with Louie Short, who recorded, mixed, and produced the album along with Jeremy Ray and Lukas Cheung, Eliza has cultivated a richness in sound and texture that prods and provokes the ticklish ear. Barely audible guitar tinkering, a brief lo-fi field recording of trumpets, the harmonic clicking of a looped synthesizer, a flourish of reeds, a child’s conversation, each uncanny sound perfectly placed, rippling out under a soft breeze.

Lay in bed alone at night and ask aloud to the stillness,

“What were you doing at the Albuquerque Airport?
What were you doing there??”

And hear your question answered by a dream of swelling, undulating cellos. Try to grasp at the melody and structure. It’s not an answer (if there could be one), but it moves deeper, closer to the weird layer of fleeting moments and disconnected images, barely perceptible at its core. Wait for the dream reel to click into place.

Eliza took me for a ride in Nicole (her beloved Dodge Grand Caravan) and told me she’d been thinking of the album as an embodiment of transition – and I think every transition, known or unknown, carries the weight of new meaning, skittering off the surface tension of life as you know it, creating ripples, sometimes bouncing off and sometimes breaking through. There is a trick you can use to tell if a dough is glutinous enough. You’re supposed to stretch it out as thin as you can without breaking it and hold it up to the light. If you can see through, even if it renders the world murky and uncertain, you should leave it alone. I love this trick. It’s one that Eliza seems to know intuitively: work gently and ask questions and don’t always expect answers, and when you can, take a glimpse at something new, and then leave.

On a creative roll of late, Linkwoods productions have branched out in many directions, a collaboration LP with jazz Genius Greg Foat, Another with Local Edinburgh Legend Other lands and a load more yet to surface. Linkwood now comes back to solo work with a hyper focused piece of electro goodness. Lo-fi but all the better for it, Mono comprises 14 deeply distilled tracks. After producing some more complex records it was time for a pure palate cleanser so we locked Nick in the Athens of the north studio for a week with his friends Moog and Oberheim to see what might happen. Somewhere between Electro, Early 80s Synth pop and techno the album is an extremely listenable piece as a whole, unpretentious and timeless. Sprinklings ofDave Stewart pop noodles, Newbuild, Early Era Nu Groove but very much Linkwood at the same time, I cant recommend this enough.

Googling “paradise house”, the first results to pop up are an endless list of European b&b’s with whitewashed lime façades, all of them promising “…an unmatched travel experience a few steps from the sea”. Next, a little further down, are the institutional websites of a few select semi-luxury retirement homes (no photos shown, but lots of stock images of smiling nurses with reassuring looks). To find the “paradise house” we’re after, we have to scroll even further down. Much further down.

It feels like yesterday, and at the same time it seems like a million years ago. The Eighties had just ended, and it was still unclear what to expect from the Nineties. Mobile phones that were not the size of a briefcase and did not cost as much as a car? A frightening economic crisis? The guitar-rock revival?! Certainly, the best place to observe that moment of transition was the dancefloor. Truly epochal transformations were happening there. From America, within a short distance one from the other, two revolutionary new musical styles had arrived: the first one sounded a bit like an “on a budget” version of the best Seventies disco-music – Philly sound made with a set of piano-bar keyboards! – the other was even more sparse, futuristic and extraterrestrial. It was a music with a quite distinct “physical” component, which at the same time, to be fully grasped, seemed to call for the knotty theories of certain French post-modern philosophers: Gilles Deleuze, Félix Guattari, Paul Virilio... Both those genres – we would learn shortly after – were born in the black communities of Chicago and Detroit, although listening to those vinyl 12” (often wrapped in generic white covers, and with little indication in the label) you could not easily guess whether behind them there was a black boy from somewhere in the Usa, or a girl from Berlin, or a pale kid from a Cornish coastal town.

Quickly, similar sounds began to show up from all corners of Europe. A thousand variations of the same intuition: leaner, less lean, happier, slightly less intoxicated, more broken, slower, faster, much faster... Boom! From the dancefloors – the London ones at least, whose chronicles we eagerly read every month in the pages of The Face and i-D – came tales of a new generation of clubbers who had completely stopped “dressing up” to go dancing; of hot tempered hooligans bursting into tears and hugging everyone under the strobe lights as the notes of Strings of Life rose up through the fumes of dry ice (certain “smiling” pills were also involved, sure). At this point, however, we must move on to Switzerland.

In Switzerland, in the quiet and diligent town of Lugano, between the 1980s and 1990s there was a club called “Morandi”. Its hot night was on Wednesdays, when the audience also came from Milan, Como, Varese and Zurich. Legend goes that, one night, none less than Prince and Sheila E were spotted hiding among the sofas, on a day-off of the Italian dates of the Nude Tour… The Wednesday resident and superstar was an Italian dj with an exotic name: Don Carlos. The soundtrack he devised was a mixture of Chicago, Detroit, the most progressive R&B and certain forgotten classics of old disco music: practically, what the Paradise Garage in New York might have sounded like had it not closed in 1987. In between, Don Carlos also managed to squeeze in some tracks he had worked on in his studio on Lago Maggiore. One in particular: a track that was rather slow compared to the BPM in fashion at the time, but which was a perfect bridge between house and R&B. The title was Alone: Don Carlos would explain years later that it had to be intended both in the English meaning of “by itself” and like the Italian word meaning “halo”. That wasn’t the only double entendre about the song, anyway. Its own very deep nature was, indeed, double. On the one hand, Alone was built around an angelic keyboard pattern and a romantic piano riff that took you straight to heaven; on the other, it showcased enough electronic squelches (plus a sax part that sounded like it had been dissolved by acid rain) to pigeonhole the tune into the “junk modernity” section, aka the hallmark of all the most innovative sounds of the time: music that sounded like it was hand-crafted from the scraps of glittering overground pop.

No one knows who was the first to call it “paradise house”, nor when it happened. Alternative definitions on the same topic one happened to hear included “ambient house”, “dream house”, “Mediterranean progressive”… but of course none were as good (and alluring) as “paradise house”. What is certain is that such inclination for sounds that were in equal measure angelic and neurotic, romantic and unaffective, quickly became the trademark of the second generation of Italian house. Music that seemed shyly equidistant from all the rhythmic and electronic revolutions that had happened up to that moment (“Music perfectly adept at going nowhere slowly” as noted by English journalist Craig McLean in a legendary field report for Blah Blah Blah magazine). Music that to a inattentive ear might have sounded as anonymous as a snapshot of a random group of passers-by at 10AM in the centre of any major city, but perfectly described the (slow) awakening in the real world after the universal love binge of the so-called Second Summer of Love.

For a brief but unforgettable season, in Italy “paradise house” was the official soundtrack of interminable weekends spent inside the car, darting from one club to another, cutting the peninsula from North to centre, from East to West coast in pursuit of the latest after-hours disco, trading kilometres per hour with beats per minute: practically, a new New Year’s Eve every Friday and Saturday night. This too was no small transformation, as well as a shock for an adult Italy that was encountering for the first time – thanks to its sons and daughters – the wild side of industrial modernity. The clubbers of the so-called “fuoriorario” scene were the balls gone mad in the pinball machine most feared by newspapers, magazines and TV pundits. What they did each and every weekend, apart from going crazy to the sound of the current white labels, was linking distant geographical points and non-places (thank you Marc Augé!) – old dance halls, farmhouses and business centres – transformed for one night into house music heaven. As Marco D’Eramo wrote in his 1995 essay on Chicago, Il maiale e il grattacielo: “Four-wheeled capitalism distorts our age-old image of the city, it allows the suburbs to be connected to each other, whereas before they were connected only by the centre (…) It makes possible a metropolitan area without a metropolis, without a city centre, without downtown. The periphery is no longer a periphery of any centre, but is self-centred”.

“Paradise house” perfectly understood all of this and turned it into a sort of cyber-blues that didn’t even need words, and unexpectedly brought back a drop of melancholic (post?)-humanity within a world that by then – as we would wholly realise in the decades to come – was fully inhuman and heartless. A world where we were all alone, and surrounded by a sinister yellowish halo, like a neon at the end of its life cycle. But, for one night at least, happy."

EBY is an acid house artist who has more than made his mark over the years. 40 years, to be exact, and to mark that rather notable occasion he is back with a special release on Foxbam Inc called ACID Thing and it comes in various different formats. This is a grey vinyl version that celebrates the classic acid sound while infusing it with a modern twist and plenty of big basslines, squelchy synths, and potent rhythms. The standout 'Acidanus' includes MC Soph who made her debut on Acid Indigestion Pt4 at just eight years old and now returns at 25. The EP also features a remix of 'Eggtrip' by renowned Belgian producer Outlander who you will likely remember from his iconic cut 'Vamp.'

Finally available again! The 2023 release from Philadelphia's one and only The Dead Milkmen. Featuring such actual hits as "Astral Dad" and "Grandpa's Not A Racist (He Just Voted For One)", this LP is sure to bring joy to Milkmen fans across the globe. First new full-length since 2014, w/ Full color sleeve with lyrics and art For fans of The Dead Milkmen!

The Italian 80s avant garde / anarcho scene is explored in this limited 12” release presenting Nengue and their previously unreleased cover version of the new wave classic Los Ninos Del Parque and the electro pop wave African Beat.

The tumultuous political climate of the 1960s through 1980s inspired Italian artists to craft an introspective, psychological musical landscape. As civil unrest, violent demonstrations, and political murders became commonplace, Italy's centres of intellect vibrated with activist energy. This atmosphere gave birth to a unique, mechanized sound that blended electronic elements with a raw, discordant aesthetic, reflecting the chaotic spirit of the times.

Through vintage forms of social networking and music sharing, a community led process steered the scene, publishing zines and records that grasped alternative concepts of music and lifestyle.

Nengue, were similar to many of these lo-fi, retro-future electronic music pioneers. Based in Rome, their music / art backgrounds flowed with anti-art, extreme noise, futurism, industrial, experimental, martial, folk, free jazz and exotica.

With a couple of releases as a duo, as was often the case, they appeared in numerous other projects and the music was a mixture of their individual backgrounds.

Extraordinarily, only appearing on a couple of obscure cassette compilations, indicative of the time, the quality of Nengue’s productions stands testament. Originally approached to reissue their Cosmic meets Kraftwerk inspired African Beat, a wonderful yet simple electronic idiom, layers of electronica rising, each element an addition flow, vocals the release’s waves.

However, the discovery of their cover of Los Ninos Del Parque – describing it as ‘powerful anarchic nonsense’ – is rightfully now the primary focus.

Acting as some Brutalist interpretation, its sharp electronics and industrial vocals, propel you to a brick-strewn squat party and a place in anarcho folklore.

These are matched with a remix / remake by Berlin’s Bionda e Lupo. Presenting a ‘Neumisch’, Sneaker’s exacting studio mastery and Sano’s additional vocals are a blessing – a new duo version – dynamic and wonderfully special.

To complete, the powerful dub of African Beat closes. Stepping out of his time as one half of Romanian duo Khidja (DFA / Hivern Discs), Andrei Rusu builds on his recent solo releases / remixes for Malka Tuti with a fantastic, bottom heavy version, perfectly building with expertise, an EP for the basements of today that was made in the dark times of the past.

Toy Tonics Music Berlin presents "Para Mytho Disco". The 2nd "Kapote" album of label founder and creative director Mathias Modica.
Keyboarder, DJ, producer, music nerd, graphic designer, multi-instrumentalist, sub-culture impressario and artist (formerly known as Munk of Gomma records.)

Kapote & Toy Tonics
In the last years Kapote was in the spotlight mainly for building the Toy Tonics label with his friends. Developing a platform for new positive quality dance music with a human touch. Toy Tonics is the opposite of the dark, druggy Techno and Trance sounds of the last years.
The warm inclusive music of Toy Tonics represents a new vibe that a young generation of diverse, stylish and culturally intersted generation of dancers loves now. Kapote's Toy Tonics became the key label for that vibe. (In 2024 Toy Tonics made 150 Toy Tonics events in 18 countries. With more than 150.000 people dancing. 90 millions streams on their music.)
Toy Tonics is more than a music label: It's a audio - visual universe. A community, almost a movement.
Based on a new positive attitude and aesthetic diversity. Mixing musicianship with DJ culture, analogue music with electronic, ideas from the past with sounds from now. To create something new. Connecting dance music with graphic design, art and underground fashion.
Kapote and his gang release vinyl, posters, shirts, art fanzines and make exhibitions and partys.

Toy Tonics started in Berlin as a underground niche project. But now became the key label of the new house, wild style disco and organic dance music scene.
Probably one of Berlin's biggest electronic music phenomena along with Keinemusik and Live from Earth.

It went fast: 2020 Kapote's crew started to make small parties in Berlin's off spaces. The "Toy Tonics Jams". The parties became "talk of the town", and Berlin clubs like Griesmühle and Panorama Bar invited the crew. Then international clubs and festival called. Toy Tonics were invited to SONAR (playing the mainstage with Kaytranada and DJ Tennis), KALA festival, Montreux Jazz festival.
Now TT has a residency at Panorama Bar Berlin and sold out events in Europe leading clubs like Phonox in London, Rex Club in Paris, Tunnel in Milan.
Toy Tonics now is the reference brand of a new generation of music loving dancers. Similar to Gomma records, Kapote's former label (2003 - 2015) that was one of the key labels of the "indie dance" scene of the Y2K years (along with DFA and Output Records).

Kapote created a multi-cultural movement with graphic designers, photographers, illustrators from the Berlin scene.
They publish the Toy Tonics Pocket Poster magazine, posters and design shirts. They organize the Toy Tonics Pop Up Galleries mixing music and art. In underground venues in Berlin and in new gallery spaces and museums around Europe.
Toy Tonics has been invited by Palais de Tokio museum in Paris, Triennale Museum Berlin, Design week Milano to create events.
The new Kapote album
The 12 tracks have a very own style. Based on dance music, but going much further. "Para Mytho Disco' is a futuristic mix of sounds. It's far away from the dark monotone techno and trance music from Kapote's hometown Berlin. Instead, he creates warm friendly atmospheres full of sonic colours and little musical surprises.
Kapote's knowlege of music history and his backround as a jazz piano student and son of classic music composer is clearly inside this music. Before turning into a DJ and electronic music producer he has been playing in bands since he was 13 years old.
The album is full of emotional chord progressions played by Kapote on various keyboards. Sometimes reminding music from the past, without being retro at all. The basslines and melodies are inspired by jazz fusion from the 1970ies. And he programmed syncopated grooves that come from afro-american dance music. There are influences from Japanese electronic music (Yellow Magic Orchestra), from 1980s Synthwave and from 1990s electronica (like Squarepusher and Luke Vibert).

Kapote plays keys, bass, flutes and percussions, he plays synth solos and sings on a few tracks. The complexity of the arrangements makes this music never boring. Lot of melodies and solos that catch the listener. Colourful soundscapes that make you want to listen or dance to this album more, and discover details also after you heard it several times.

Kapote background

Before starting Toy Tonics, Kapote used to run a label called Gomma. He produced four albums under the name Munk and music for other artists.
He produced music with Peaches, Franz Ferdinand founder Nick McCarthy, with New York street art legend The Rammellzee, Italian actress Asia Argento, the first three albums of WhoMadeWho and worked with LCD Soundsystem (listen to "Kick out the chairs", the Munk song with James Murphy )
In those "Gomma days" Kapote aka Munk was also one of the main DJs for VICE magazine parties and made music for art projects and fashion brands (Margiela, Prada, Colette).
In 2015 he stopped Munk and Gomma and started Toy Tonics. He found young producers and helped to develop their sound (Coeo, Cody Currie, Gee Lane, Barbara Boeing, Sam Ruffillo). Later he founded the sublabel Kryptox to release music by Berlin based bands that make new forms of jazz or neo classical sounds.

Under the name Kapote Mathias didnt release much:
Only his Kapote debut album "What it is" (2019) and an EP called "Electric Slide" (2022) and a collabo EP with Italian producer Sam Ruffillo ("Robot Salsa").

An although his Munk and Kapote music was an underground phenomena his music has always been a favourite of many great people from the scene.
Supported by DJs like Harvey, Chromeo, Moodymann, Jennifer Cardini, Gerd Janson, MYD, Andrew Weatherall to Blessed Madonna, Justice and Laurent Garnier… to name just a few.

Laurin Rinder & W. Michael Lewis's Seven Deadly Sins is a hugely influential, synth-powered, atmospheric space-disco masterpiece. It's arguably the best American Disco LP ever made. It's certainly one of the most important albums in the history of dance music. And, like its innovative producers, it's absolute genius.

During the mid to late seventies the production team of Laurin Rinder and W. Michael Lewis helped to define the Disco sound that was coming out of Los Angeles with studio projects such as El Coco, Saint Tropez, Le Pamplemousse (with vocals from The Jones Girls), In Search Of Orchestra and many others.

Like all of their work, Seven Deadly Sins comprises beautifully arranged and incredibly well produced deep disco that is revered by aficionados. A seven track, largely instrumental concept album covering each of the sins, it was recorded for AVI in 1977. It's a brilliantly conceived, groove-fuelled album that layers moogy keys and druggy synths over club-ready rhythms. The idea that this record is celebrating rather than condemning the sins is said to be another factor that made the record a big one in the underground clubs.

Opening sin “Lust” is an intense, swelling, seven minute blockbuster synth journey. An ethereal Loft/Garage classic, it's a sprawling, brooding slice of epic dancefloor dynamite that remains a firm favourite of discerning disco heads like Harvey. So ahead of its time, it still sounds ridiculously fresh today, drifting through a multitude of melodies over a smooth, lightly percussive mid-tempo beat. A slow-mo sexy killer.

Up next, the sprightly-manic “Sloth” is nothing like its title. A driving, swaggering instrumental incorporating the same Euro-disco elements as our Daft Parisian friends did a few decades on, it's certainly not for the faint-hearted.

A clear highlight, the cosmic, throbbing proto-techno of “Gluttony” gets things firmly back on track. Pure industrial vibes with dark synth bass punctuated by uplifting melodic sequences that brilliantly utilise guitar and horns, is this the sound of Wax! Trax being born? You won't be able to get enough of this.

Opening up the B-Side, “Pride” is a breezy slice of classic late seventies jazz/funk with deft Hammond and clavinet grooves and expansive horn sections. It's absolutely fantastic. The wicked leftfield vocal cut “Envy” provides more disco pump with squelchy acid synth flourishes, funky guitar and neck-snapping percussive breaks.

The dark proto-techno/house cut “Anger” is a fully on top tour de force of drums. With heavy African percussion throughout and a short Afrobeat section towards the end, it was sampled by Carl Craig and Laurent Garnier for their Tres Demented project and was also a massive Ron Hardy / Music Box favourite. The album is rounded out by the hard-grooving “Covetousness”, another driving jazz-funk workout par excellence with liberal use of the syndrum.

As Laurin Rinder recalled in an interview with Dream Chimney, the duo essentially lived in the studio: “we really had cots, beds and the whole thing, we were just pumpin’ them out. 7 days a week, 3 different projects at the same time. I played drums on everything but had to play a little differently. I had to ask the engineer ‘What’s the name of this group?‘”.

Evidently, their prolific output was the result of a crazy cocaine-fuelled production schedule: “The amount of coke we did, to do all this, you can’t even imagine. $300 a day. I had to have plastic inserts in my nose so I could do more.” Looking at the frankly terrifying cover, you'd have never known!

Be With is beyond delighted to present the first ever legit vinyl reissue of Seven Deadly Sins, carefully remastered by Be With's engineer Simon Francisco to ensure it sounds better than ever. Cicely Balston's expert skills have made sure nothing is lost in the cut whilst the records have been pressed to the highest possible standard at Record Industry in Holland. The unforgettable cover artwork has been reproduced here at Be With - dare you stare back at it for too long?

RUSSELL HASWELL is an artist, record producer, free improvisor, computer musician, noise aficionado and curator.
Trained at Coventry School of Art, graduating in 1992, Russell’s extraordinary conceptual oeuvre resists easy summarisation, focused on the site-specific, performance and methodology of large-scale sound works, sometimes in surround sound. Russell has given solo audio presentations at major Art and Music festivals and events, in art galleries, concert halls, clubs, rock venues, and even squats in 30 countries, and counting. Most recently he has performed at SONIC ACTS, SONAR, Pirelli Hangar Bicocca and Coventry Cathedral.

As a curator, Russell has delivered projects for PS1/MoMa, All Tomorrows Parties, Aldeburgh Music, Thyssen-Bornemisza Art Contemporary, and Cafe Oto. He now lives and works in Glasgow.

Recorded in real-time (ADDAC System, ALM/Busy Circuits, Cwejman, Epoch Modular, FANCYYYYY Synthesis, Flight of Harmony, Instruo...)

Im Jahr 2023 veröffentlichte James Elkington "Me Neither", ein Doppelalbum mit Solo-Gitarrenimprovisationen und -Experimenten. Am Ende betrachtete er es als eine wortlose Sammlung von Library Music, eine Fundgrube anonym produzierter Klänge, die für jede Art von Verwendung geplündert werden können, und Elkington, der in Chicago lebende britische Gitarrist, findet in dieser Musik eine Freiheit, die aus dem Nichts zu kommen scheint. Er lässt "Me Neither" mit "Pastel De Nada" ein neues 2xLP-Set folgen, dessen 27 Tracks eher einem Werkzeugkasten als einer Bibliothek gleichen. Helle, optimistische Strums wie 'The Lyre Concordia', vielschichtige Meditationen wie 'Morny in the Earling' und 'The Caves at Aurangabad' und Stücke wie 'The Equal Spacing', die wie kleine Maschinen ticken und surren, um Freude zu erzeugen. Elkington stellt seinen Gitarren Texturen, Atmosphären und flüsternde Perkussionsinstrumente gegenüber.

"Bloodshot Bill, the Canadian hickup rockabilly Trash LoFi King of One-Man-Bands meets Gerard Van Herk from the legendary Deja Voodoo duo to create music that comes direct out of a rotten crypt and smells like an obscure trashed up rock'n'roll bad-ass delinquent." -VVR Bloodshot Bill ist eine Ein-Mann-Band aus Quebec in Kanada. Keine Computer, keine Overdubs, einfach nur seine Gitarre mit Kickdrum und ein Hi-Hat, 2020 war er Gewinner von ,Ameripolitan Rockabilly Male Of The Year". Bloodshot Bill sei ,wie Roy Orbison mit einer Kopfverletzung", sagt Reg isseur John Waters. Er hat in den letzten 20 Jahren eine Menge Musik veröffentlicht (Norton, Goner, Squoodge etc und wurde auf Platz 8 der Top 10 Rock-Gitarristen des Vintage Rock Magazine gewählt. Gerard Van Herk, Gründer und Frontmann des legendären Duos Deja Voodoo aus Montreal in Kanada, veröffentlichte seit 1981 viele Platten auf u.a Midnight Records oder What Wave. Sie waren Pioniere in Kanada und schufen ihr eigenes Musikgenre Slugabilly. 2024 trafen sich die zwei Musiker und nahmen die vier Songs dieser EP auf. ,Shot of Blood" und ,Crawl" von Gerard Van Herk sowie ,She said no" und ,Shish Taouk" von Bloodshot Bill. Die Tracks gingen verloren und es wurde nur eine dünne MP3 gefunden die dann von Matt von den Ouside Inside Studios versucht wurde wiederherzustellen. Hören Sie selbst!!!

Am 28. März 2025 erscheint »Field of Lights«, das dritte Album von REGENER PAPPIK BUSCH. Das
Jazz-Trio verschiebt den Schwerpunkt seines Repertoires mit diesem neuen Album in Richtung Cool Jazz
und Post Bop und stellt erstmals drei eigene Stücke vor. Gleich mit dem Debüt, »Ask Me Now«, erreichten REGENER PAPPIK BUSCH 2021 die Spitze der deutschen Jazz-Charts, das Trio spielte bei den
Leverkusener Jazztagen, veröffentlichte 2022 das zweite Album »Things to Come«, gab mit Blixa Bargeld
einen Abend aus Werken der Beatliteratur und Bebop-Klassikern und spielte zahlreiche Konzerte.
»Field of Lights«, ihr drittes Album, ist von maximaler Unmittelbarkeit geprägt. Wir hören auf »Field of
Lights« Klassiker wie »All Alone« und »Billie’s Blues« von Billie Holiday und Mal Waldron, »Nostalgia In
Times Square« von Charles Mingus und eine äußerst raffnierte, pointierte Version von Thelonious Monks
»Bye-Ya«. Wir hören diese und andere bekannte Stücke, aber wir erkennen sie nicht immer gleich – weil
es REGENER PAPPIK BUSCH tatsächlich gelingt, ihnen eine neue Perspektive abzugewinnen.

Although still very much a secret, Oakland, California's Justin Pinkerton has perfected and expanded his Futuropaco project to a stunning degree over the past seven years. The one-man band is deeply rooted in Pinkerton's masterful drumming, which builds on the legacy of 1960's and 1970's legends such as Tony Allen and Jaki Liebezeit. But he's an accomplished multi-instrumentalist as well, and the Futuropaco sound is a colourful fusion that sees him throw fuzz guitars, flutes, vintage synthesizers and Anatolian string instruments into the mix - seemingly without much effort. The second and final volume of the "Fortezza Di Vetro" series feels like a conclusion, the sound of an artist reaching his creative zenith. It's an experimental album, yet immediately seductive in its energy - channeling the vibey art-rock of Tortoise, Black Sabbath riffage and vintage Italian film music in equal measures. It's such a refined and esoteric blend, yet hits so directly. It's simply impossible not to crank the volume knob once this slab of vinyl is on the turntable, followed by immediate head nodding. Buy the ticket, take the ride. Justin Pinkerton is a vastly talented rhythmsmith, best known as a member of Californian stoners Golden Void. On this project he plays all the other instruments too so he can do what he blooming well feels. And it's not as if the drum solos go on for twenty minutes like those of John Bonham and his pale imitators. Nope. Into tracks that are both jam-packed and concise, Pinkerton has squeezed his love of vintage Italian library music, classic krautrock and heavy psych rock. At one point it suggests Grails have been performing super-speed cover versions of fusion-era Miles Davis with Adrian Younge on production. -The Quietus Futuropaco returns in a big way with Fortezza di Vetro, a buzzing, groove-heavy album that expands on what came before while staying true to the project's origins. Dizzying, fuzzed-out psych with just the right amount of melancholy for good measure. Justin Pinkerton and Futuropaco have done it again. Fantastico! -Complex Distractions

The album was conceived as a response to his EP Winter Sunshine. The record, recorded at his home in Istanbul, finds Evgeny in a highly intimate setting. His piano and atmospherics are complemented by his long- time collaborators Iana Chekina (cello) and Pavel Mackevitch (viola, violin). The first notes of "Glare of Us" greet the listener warmly and invite her to relax into a tour through the seasons and different moments of the day.

Man-of-the-minute Jorg Kuning returns to Facta & K-LONE’s Wisdom Teeth imprint with ‘Elvers Pass’: a new 6-track exposition of his singular sound, and his most accomplished and comprehensive work to date. By now, the Jorg Kuning trademark is well established. Cherrypicking influences from the wiggiest ends of tech house, electro and bass music, his music is instantly set apart by his totally unique sound palette.

In fact, it’s hard to think of another club artist who has emerged with such a distinct and recognisable voice in recent years. Bubbling and funky with that unmistakable dose of wonk, you can tell a Jorg Kuning tune the minute it enters the mix. Since last appearing on Wisdom Teeth with 2022’s ‘Chosta-del-sol’ EP, the Welshpool-based artist has become a cult name on the global club and festival circuit - his must-see live set turning heads wherever he pitches up. Anybody who frequents the summer circuits around Freerotation, Love International, Gottwood and Dimensions will know exactly what we’re talking about. Along the way he has picked up a number of ardent and outspoken fans, including Lukas Wigflex and Koreless - the latter of whom tapped Jorg for a stellar remix on last year’s ‘Deceltica’ EP on Young. On ‘Elvers Pass’, Jorg manages to ring an exceptionally rich diversity of life from the circuitry of his modular machines.

The record’s melodies flutter and swirl like deep-sea creatures, and his synths ooze as if dredged from some primordial swamp. More so than ever, a host of otherworldly voices have begun to creep into his music: ‘Mercedes’ centres around a fluttering chorus of disembodied vocal chops, while ‘Synthetic Squashies’ rocks back and forth on a looping dialog between two AI chatbots. Across the record, synths mimic animal vocal tones, from the belching bass licks on ‘Skudde’ to the amphibious synth groans on ‘Teen Frogue’. Playful, oddball and in a class of its own, ‘Elvers Pass’ is a welcome New Year offering for ravers and club adventurers worldwide.

6 soulful house jams with hard hitting kicks, squelchy acid lines, lush keys and more soul than you can shake a stick at.

As the leader of new outfit Sarter Kit, saxophonist Tara Sarter is creating a unique form of minimal, experimental jazz drawing on humanist principles and shared experiences. Her uncluttered and emotionally heavy debut album 'What I am and What I'm Not' creates an open, instrumental soundworld, where breaks and silences command equal gravitas as the notes and beats.
The masterful drumming of Lukas Akintaya dances between oblique patterns in odd meters, into rolling grooves and afrobeat inspired rhythms. On keys and synth, Elias Stemeseder creates tension and releases, with lingering chords and fragile melodies. Stemeseder's synthesizer work throughout the album is subtle yet masterful. Stalking the silence between the sax, drums and piano, creating a haze of digital textures within the margins of the music. Much of the album was recorded live, preserving the raw, unedited energy of their performances.
Beyond its musical qualities, 'What I am and What I'm Not' is a reflection of Sarter's belief in the power of music as a form of human connection. For Sarter, music is not about proving technical prowess but about creating something meaningful, something that transcends barriers and speaks to the shared experience of being human.

Seit mehr als 25 Jahren vollbringen My Morning Jacket das seltene Kunststück, ein langjähriges kulturelles Erbe zu bewahren und gleichzeitig die Neugier und den kreativen Hunger ihrer frühen Tage zu erhalten. Für ihr 10. Studioalbum hat sich die Band mit dem mit dem GRAMMY Award ausgezeichneten Produzenten Brendan O'Brien (Springsteen, Pearl Jam) zusammengetan, um ihr bisher meisterhaftestes Werk zu schaffen, das einmal mehr die Grenzen ihres Sounds erweitert und ihre Kunstfertigkeit in ungeahnte Höhen treibt.

Seit mehr als 25 Jahren vollbringen My Morning Jacket das seltene Kunststück, ein langjähriges kulturelles Erbe zu bewahren und gleichzeitig die Neugier und den kreativen Hunger ihrer frühen Tage zu erhalten. Für ihr 10. Studioalbum hat sich die Band mit dem mit dem GRAMMY Award ausgezeichneten Produzenten Brendan O'Brien (Springsteen, Pearl Jam) zusammengetan, um ihr bisher meisterhaftestes Werk zu schaffen, das einmal mehr die Grenzen ihres Sounds erweitert und ihre Kunstfertigkeit in ungeahnte Höhen treibt.

Kneading dough is tricky – you should know how it’s supposed to feel. If you try too hard you could make it worse. It’s a beautiful practice – creation with a gentle touch, to work at something so it can be left alone. “If it’s too drawn out it’s awful. It’s easy to give too much.” Dance in the mirror. Contemplate your veiny hands. Who do they remind you of?

You begin by mixing flour and water. “What happens when your people die? Why’d they move the rock to the other side of Ulster Park?” Eliza Niemi asks two seemingly unrelated questions in a rising melody with guitar accompaniment, like fingers playing spider up to the nape of your neck. Gentle pressure. Strands of gluten form to bind the mix. A new question lingers in the binding. When she admits “but I don’t know how to tell if I’m feeling it or not,” that question surfaces through the text. It is reiterated throughout the album. When I’m working with dough I think the same thing to myself.

On Progress Bakery, her second album as a solo artist, Eliza knows to leave some questions alone – to let juxtaposition and tension be the proof. It doesn’t have to be hard. The feelings and revelations they provoke rise in the heat. The smell is sweet. Crispy on the outside and soft all the way through. She playfully slip-slides through words and sounds and images, delighting in surprise, skimming ideas like stones cast across clear water, touching down briefly with uncommon grace.

The question provoked between those opening lines resurfaces in the strands between songs – “Do U FM” is fully formed and beautifully layered, while “Novelist Sad Face” is a short, acapella rendering of gentle curiosity. What is holding these ideas together? Some songs demand more, seem to carry a whole load – eventually the skipping stone will halt to sink and resume its idle duty – while others drift in and out of focus, the way thoughts and dreams become interwoven before the mind is sunk into true sleep.

Music and words don’t always have to interact. Where she decides to keep them apart gives a new contour to where and how she puts them together. The kind of thing you’re supposed to take for granted with songs and their singers comes alive in Eliza’s hands – the little miracle of mixing, kneading, stretching, and stopping.

So often on Progress Bakery, Eliza teases out truth and meaning by asking questions. “Do I wanna be crying?” “Do you want me good or do you want me bad?” “Do I need an eye test?” “I’m writing songs in my head while you’re going over stuff with me — is that cruel??” In “Pocky” Eliza ends with a question that feels to me like the actual biography, succinct and revealing:

I don’t wanna be made to see
I just wanna ask “what’s that?”

Grace that ought to be rare, but in its care and precision is offered humbly, with great generosity, and without announcing itself. Eliza’s simple, miraculous music is given further form and shape by a group of collaborators – invaluable guest musicians Jeremy Ray, Evan Cartwright, Steven McPhail, Kenny Boothby, Ed Squires, Carolina Chauffe, Dorothea Paas, Louie Short, and Avalon Tassonyi. Together with Louie Short, who recorded, mixed, and produced the album along with Jeremy Ray and Lukas Cheung, Eliza has cultivated a richness in sound and texture that prods and provokes the ticklish ear. Barely audible guitar tinkering, a brief lo-fi field recording of trumpets, the harmonic clicking of a looped synthesizer, a flourish of reeds, a child’s conversation, each uncanny sound perfectly placed, rippling out under a soft breeze.

Lay in bed alone at night and ask aloud to the stillness,

“What were you doing at the Albuquerque Airport?
What were you doing there??”

And hear your question answered by a dream of swelling, undulating cellos. Try to grasp at the melody and structure. It’s not an answer (if there could be one), but it moves deeper, closer to the weird layer of fleeting moments and disconnected images, barely perceptible at its core. Wait for the dream reel to click into place.

Eliza took me for a ride in Nicole (her beloved Dodge Grand Caravan) and told me she’d been thinking of the album as an embodiment of transition – and I think every transition, known or unknown, carries the weight of new meaning, skittering off the surface tension of life as you know it, creating ripples, sometimes bouncing off and sometimes breaking through. There is a trick you can use to tell if a dough is glutinous enough. You’re supposed to stretch it out as thin as you can without breaking it and hold it up to the light. If you can see through, even if it renders the world murky and uncertain, you should leave it alone. I love this trick. It’s one that Eliza seems to know intuitively: work gently and ask questions and don’t always expect answers, and when you can, take a glimpse at something new, and then leave.