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Audio alchemist Damian Lazarus continues to redefine the boundaries of electronic music with his fifth studio album, ‘Magickal’.

Renowned for his unparalleled ability to craft transformative sonic journeys, Damian Lazarus is a master of rhythm, melody, and vibration—a true pioneer among his generation’s visionary artists. Damian’s broad depth of experience encompasses a variety of disciplines: tastemaker, selector, label owner, A&R and a Grammy-nominated artist in his own right - each informed by his unique ear for sound. He is chief wizard of the hugely influential and culture-defining Crosstown Rebels label, a globally renowned DJ with a penchant for exotic outdoor locations and a highly regarded recording artist with four albums and a plethora of solo cuts, collaborations and remixes in his sprawling discography.

With his fifth album, ‘Magickal’, Damian steps into his next evolutionary phase, combining his newly found sobriety with a more mature outlook while still pushing boundaries and creating unforgettable moments. At the root of it all is the magical power of togetherness and human connection that only music can facilitate. Driven by this core ethos, Damian continues on his mission to share his heartfelt music, taking the dance floor into unexplored realms of experience, facilitating moments of transcendence, bliss and pure, unadulterated magic.

Damian Lazarus, the avant-garde architect of spiritually nourishing sounds, is joined by a stellar lineup of collaborators on his latest excursion. It’s imaginative and mystical, rhythmically captivating and daring in its own way, as is typical of Damian’s approach. Taking consideration of his past, the album references his previous work to create a tapestry of compositions that tap into the energy of key moments from his discography. Drawing on his existing catalogue creates cohesive through lines and thematically serves as a continuation of previous stories. November’s single, ‘Sunrise Generation’, for instance, works as a companion to ‘Vermillion’, which was recorded by Damian with his band The Ancient Moons and vocalist Moses Sumney back in 2015. ‘Sunrise Generation’, featuring the beautiful vocals of Fink, was Damian’s first major release since his Grammy-nominated 2021 collaboration ‘Don’t Be Afraid’ with Diplo and Jungle, and continues to take inspiration from global gatherings at solstice and those moments of collective awe at sunrise.

Indeed, the album’s themes of mental elevation and psychedelic sonic journeys are evident throughout. Damian channels this energy through tracks like the soulful ‘So Low’, featuring the incredible Zoe Kypri, and the luminous ‘Searchin’, with Jem Cooke, whose collaboration with Damian dates back to ‘Flourish’ (2020) and lead single ‘Into The Sun’. Uplifting is the operative word here, as Damian aims straight for our hearts and inner selves, stripping away the layers to take us on a trip inwards, and out into the ether all at once. There’s a clear nod to Damian’s appreciation of amapiano when he teams up with Ghanaian interdisciplinary healer Jojo Abot on ‘Warrior Dance’. Old friend and inspirer Mathew Jonson brings his virtuoso touch to ‘Are You Dreaming?’, while TEED and A-Trak form an awesome alliance for ‘Falling Down’ with its heartrending vocals. ‘Alive’ features the Bloom Twins, and also additional production from acclaimed producer Mark Ralph, who incidentally worked on Damian’s debut album ‘Smoke The Monster Out’ in 2009 and forms another throughline to the past. ‘Alive’ blends pop sensibilities and song structure with Damian’s inimitable sound - and could become one of Damian’s biggest moments to date. ‘La Hija De Juan Simon’ delves into the Latin energy synonymous with vibrancy and self-expression as Damian teams up with acclaimed Spanish flamenco-influenced duo Mëstiza. On a solo tip, he rolls out with the eight-minute-plus soulful funk flex ‘Why Don’t U’.

In a suitably aligned instance of serendipity, the arrival of ‘Magickal’ comes at a pivotal period in Damian’s life, just as it has been with previous album concepts. Albums made and released during big shifts in his life speak to the correlation between growth, personal evolution, creativity, catharsis and sharing that process musically. The last album ‘Flourish’, for instance, was recorded and released in the space of a few months during the first summer of the global pandemic. As a result, there’s a kind of vulnerability in the music, a subtle story that’s being told with emotional touchpoints that will be relevant to anyone listening. The universal human experience and spectrum of emotions are things almost everyone can relate to. With the enhanced clarity of his sobriety, Damian’s compositions embody the uplifting nature of simply being alive, connected and unified in our love for music and one another.

Day Zero, Damian’s iconic annual festival, is intrinsically linked to ‘Magickal’. It’s the setting for his imagination when producing the music, it’s the launchpad for each year’s kaleidoscopic adventures around the world, and this year’s edition will be the backdrop to the release of ‘Magickal’. As the pinnacle of Damian’s annual experiences, Day Zero marks a vital milestone for his artistry, an extension of his inner realm, carefully curated and created for his global family of lovers and dancers to revel in the awe-inspiring beauty of Mother Nature. Central to the ethos of Day Zero is its sustainability practices and deep consideration for the locality within which it is held. Connections with local elders embolden its depth, cultivating a strongly aligned purpose with the ritual, customs and energy of the land and its people.

‘Magickal’ will be released in the same week as Day Zero, tying the two projects together in a neat dovetail. 12 years since it started, Day Zero continues to play a significant role in the music Damian makes, curates and plays. For him, it’s the epitome of his vision: a stunning natural setting, the very best party people from around the world, an unparalleled lineup of friends and family, high production values, eco-centric policies and music from another dimension. With these interdimensional transmissions, Damian channels his inner alchemist, which, in turn, permeates into the vibrational framework of ‘Magickal’.

Never one to adhere to convention, Damian has opted for a disruptive album release. ‘Magickal’ is to be kept under wraps and then announced and released on Crosstown Rebels on 8th January 2025, bypassing the modern trend of prolonged single drops and ‘tombstone’ album releases. ‘Magickal’ is the embodiment of Damian and his intentional, against-the-grain approach and reinforces the album as a complete artistic statement, offering listeners the full cohesive experience from the very beginning. This is a return to the album as the pinnacle moment and not the afterthought. Singles, edits and remixes will follow the ‘Magickal album’ release, and, of course, there will be a world tour to promote the album (including Glastonbury and Coachella) and a chance to present the album in exciting, innovative and unique ways.

Forever dreaming, a sincere student of magic, new and old, social sorcerer, lover of nature and master of musical wizardry, Damian Lazarus is a potent force. With ‘Magickal’, he reaffirms his place as one of electronic music’s most influential figures, taking listeners on a profound journey into sound, spirit, and connection.

Black Country, New Road veröffentlichen ihr neues Studioalbum „Forever Howlong“ auf Ninja Tune! Das Album ist ihre erste Studioveröffentlichung seit ihrem Album, „Ants From Up There“, aus dem Jahr 2022, neben ihrem für den Mercury Prize nominierten Debüt, „For The First Time“ und folgt auf „Live At Bush Hall“ aus dem Jahr 2023. Jetzt, auf dem dritten Studioalbum, beginnt die Band wieder von Grund auf und vollzieht eine weitere wundersame musikalische Verwandlung.
Das lang erwartete neue Album wurde von James Ford (von Simian Mobile Disco, der u.a. bereits mit Arctic Monkeys, Depeche Mode und Blur zusammenarbeitete) produziert und zeigt Black Country, New Road in einer neuen Form, in der die Gesangsaufgaben - und der Großteil des Songwritings - zwischen Tyler Hyde, Georgia Ellery und May Kershaw aufgeteilt sind. „Forever Howlong“ ist ein ehrgeiziges, detailliert ausgearbeitetes Album, das von Folk über Prog und Barock-Pop bis hin zu einem Hauch von Alt-Rock alles enthält - mit Anklängen an Joanna Newsom, Randy Newman, Fiona Apple und Janis Ian - und dabei doch diesen unverwechselbaren, einzigartigen Sound beibehält, den nur diese Kombination von Musiker:innen hervorbringen kann. Obwohl das Album sehr vielfältig und umfangreich ist, fühlt es sich auch sehr kohärent und fokussiert an, da es drei verschiedene Stimmen und Stile aufnimmt und sie nahtlos in einen neuen kollektiven Sound einfließen lässt.

Black Country, New Road veröffentlichen ihr neues Studioalbum „Forever Howlong“ auf Ninja Tune! Das Album ist ihre erste Studioveröffentlichung seit ihrem Album, „Ants From Up There“, aus dem Jahr 2022, neben ihrem für den Mercury Prize nominierten Debüt, „For The First Time“ und folgt auf „Live At Bush Hall“ aus dem Jahr 2023. Jetzt, auf dem dritten Studioalbum, beginnt die Band wieder von Grund auf und vollzieht eine weitere wundersame musikalische Verwandlung.
Das lang erwartete neue Album wurde von James Ford (von Simian Mobile Disco, der u.a. bereits mit Arctic Monkeys, Depeche Mode und Blur zusammenarbeitete) produziert und zeigt Black Country, New Road in einer neuen Form, in der die Gesangsaufgaben - und der Großteil des Songwritings - zwischen Tyler Hyde, Georgia Ellery und May Kershaw aufgeteilt sind. „Forever Howlong“ ist ein ehrgeiziges, detailliert ausgearbeitetes Album, das von Folk über Prog und Barock-Pop bis hin zu einem Hauch von Alt-Rock alles enthält - mit Anklängen an Joanna Newsom, Randy Newman, Fiona Apple und Janis Ian - und dabei doch diesen unverwechselbaren, einzigartigen Sound beibehält, den nur diese Kombination von Musiker:innen hervorbringen kann. Obwohl das Album sehr vielfältig und umfangreich ist, fühlt es sich auch sehr kohärent und fokussiert an, da es drei verschiedene Stimmen und Stile aufnimmt und sie nahtlos in einen neuen kollektiven Sound einfließen lässt.

Stille kann entweder Ruhe oder Stagnation bedeuten. Walt McClements hat sich mit diesen gegensätzlichen Kräften auseinandergesetzt, um "On a Painted Ocean" zu realisieren: eine Suite von Akkordeon und Pfeifenorgel geleiteten Stücken, die einen stetigen Kurs verfolgen, anschwellen und sich mit einer Flut von zarten Emotionen erweitern. Der Komponist und Multiinstrumentalist hat den Titel seines zweiten Albums von Samuel Taylor Coleridges berühmtem Epos "The Rime of the Ancient Mariner" und dessen Beschreibung eines Bootes, das auf See feststeckt ("As idle as a painted ship / Upon a painted Ocean"). Es ist ein Eindruck, der sowohl den Prozess als auch das Produkt von McClements' Western Vinyl Veröffentlichung widerspiegelt, vom sanften Entfalten eines rauen Schilfrohrtons im Opener ,A Painted Ship" bis hin zum düsteren, mit Effekten beladenen Drone von "Washed Up" und dem abschließenden Flattern und Signalstörungen, die sich in ,Clattering" geräuschvoll zu triumphaler Euphorie erheben. "On a Painted Ocean" ist das Ergebnis eines Zusammenflusses von Ereignissen und Inspirationen, die sich verändert haben wie das Wetter selbst. Die ersten Skizzen begannen mit dem unerwarteten Zugang zu einer Kirchenorgel in Pasadena im Jahr 2022, bevor diese Skizzen zur Seite gelegt wurden, um sich auf ein arbeitsreiches Jahr als Mitglied der Live-Band von Weyes Blood vorzubereiten. Die Monate im Tourbus mit begrenzten Instrumenten veranlassten McClements dazu, den Klang seines bearbeiteten Akkordeons auf dem Synthesizer nachzubilden, und überlagerte ihn mit den Orgelstücken. Als dieser Zyklus zu Ende ging, war McClements begierig darauf die Platte zu beenden, war sich aber nicht sicher, wie er den Faden wieder aufnehmen sollte. Festgefahren in der Flaute einer kreativen Blockade, nahm McClements seine Spuren von bearbeiteten Akkordeons und Synthesizern, Pfeifenorgel und Melodica, Zungen und Pfeifen, die durch Pedale und Computer laufen, in seine ehemalige Heimat New Orleans zum Karneval mit. Nachdem er ein Jahrzehnt in der Stadt in Louisiana gelebt hatte, bevor er nach Los Angeles zog, fand McClements in einer der ekstatischsten und bedeutungsvollsten Zeiten des Jahres neue Inspiration. Das Ethos der Kunst um der Gemeinschaft willen und die Praktiken der Fürsorge inspirierten ihn den Rat seiner Musikerkollegin und Mentorin Rachika Nayar zu befolgen und Mitstreiter einzubeziehen, darunter auch Nayar selbst, die eine zusätzliche Produktion zu ,Sirens" beisteuert. Aurora Nealand, eine alte Freundin und ehemalige Bandkollegin, antwortete ebenfalls auf den Ruf und fügte Saxophon zu den unruhigen Gewässern von ,Cloud Prints" und ,Parade" hinzu. Der letztgenannte Track ist der klangliche und konzeptionelle Höhepunkt auf McClements' Reise zur Verwirklichung von "On a Painted Ocean", wo eine steigende Tonhöhe und aufgewühlte Segel auf eine Feldaufnahme von Community Care treffen. Ein Verdienst von starken Beziehungen und gegenseitiger Unterstützung, das Album zeichnet als eine persönliche Pilgerreise auf - die Anpassung an die Gezeiten und die Erinnerung daran, dass die Gemeinschaft helfen kann, wenn man sich auf dem Meer festgefahren fühlt.

Andrew Duhon has a knack for telling the kind of stories that clearly cost the writer something to tell- the kind of honesty that feels noble and never half hearted. When a song written by a stranger heals you, even in the smallest way, that's a connection beyond entertainment, and that is the journey Andrew Duhon sets out on from his home in Louisiana. His songs are about recognizing our story as much as they are about telling his, and his coast to coast pursuits have given him a clearer view of the American Landscape than most are privy to. Still, after years of voyaging off to every corner of the country, a new sensation arises with each return home to New Orleans. From that familiar return comes The Parish Record, a snapshot of life venturing from and returning to one of America's purest cultural vignettes, and the beauty, conflict, and stories that come with it. The Parish Record was recorded at Dockside Studios in Maurice, LA, where deep in Cajun country sits a wood-panel barn engulfed in oak and cypress trees along the slow butterscotch bayou pace of the Vermillion River. In this isolated hub of Acadiana, Andrew Duhon embarked with his trio of most trusted musicians - Myles Weeks (James Hunter Six, Eric Lindell) on Bass, Jim Kolacek (Feufollet) on Drums, and Daniel Walker (Heart, Ann Wilson, Amy Ray) on Keys - to harness of the sound and feeling of their surroundings. "I wanted this record to feel like home. It wasn't time to get out of town or try out something new on this one. It was about believing in the songs from where the songs came from," Duhon says.

Long and intermittent running duo of Discrepant head honcho Gonçalo F Cardoso and Angela Valid's Alex Jones, with sometime collaborator Phil Laney aka Kenny Hosepipe joining in somewhere along the way, Hair & Treasure crossover from Sucata Tapes to Discrepant wax via 'Disc Rot'. Described by the duo, in their cryptic and scatological fashion, as "a fetid spread from the buttery catacombs of Hair & Treasure", one can only speculate on the mindset, if not for the scenario, for these file swap recording sessions. As if decaying throughout this back & forth process, the synthscapes, field recordings, voices from who knows where? and subliminal pulses assembled in these 11 pieces all coalesce into this out-there murk where invocations of "a" real are mangled into unhinged, squinting eyes moments of near- consciousness.

Compared to previous Hair & Treasure ventures like 'Two Fucking Tapes' or 'Forked Piss Blues', 'Disc Rot' forgoes side-long tapestries by focusing on shorter and clearer transmissions from the netherworld. Still, the feeling of pieces of discarded hardware and sound hubris lying around and turned music of the duo remains unscathed, filtered through a newfound precision. After the opening feverish threat of 'Warm Night', the suspended synth pads and working machinery of 'Byzantine Turd Skirt' actually comes as a relief, pulling away (a bit) of the dread to resurface with the Texas Chainsaw Massacre OST ambience of 'Amateur Depravity' and 2004-ish Midwest noise stylings of 'Busy Hubby's Flight to Gstaad' and 'Tit Ale'. 'Roads Gonad Today' and 'Just Jerkers' are not that far removed from a lower fidelity take on Black Dice circa 'Creature Comforts', while -'Professional Babies' goes back a couple of years to their collabs with Wolf Eyes, bust mostly, all of this sounds like nothing but Hair & Treasure themselves. If you know, you know.

Mit ihren unberechenbaren Live-Auftritten und Songs wie "Zurück zum Beton" und "Industriemädchen" sorgten S.Y.P.H. Ende der 70er für Furore - als eine der Bands, die rund um Düsseldorfs Ratinger Hof begannen, deutschsprachig zu texten. Die Band brach von Beginn an mit genre-konformistischen Erwartungshaltungen und machte Musik, die sich bei Rock, Punk und Kraut genauso bediente wie bei der Zügellosigkeit des Dadaismus und der Realität des Tagesgeschehens. Nach dem ersten Album und mehreren Singles (wiederveröffentlicht bei Tapete Records im Dezember 2024) produzierte die Band zwei weitere Alben - Pst und S.Y.P.H. (Album 4) - gemeinsam mit CANs Holger Czukay. Von 1978 bis 1981 entstanden neben Tapete Records veröffentlicht beide Alben gemeinsam mit einer Sammlung zuvor unveröffentlichter Raritäten - Punkraut 1978-1981. Auf dieser Compilation wurden rare und zuvor unveröffentlichte Aufnahmen aus den ersten drei Jahren der Bandgeschichte zusammengestellt: Die Songs "Blech" und "Mondpogo", 1978 live performt bei S.Y.P.H.s erstem Konzert im Düsseldorfer Carsch-Haus und fünf Aufnahmen, die zwischen 1978 und 1979 in Solingen entstanden. Außerdem gibt es drei Studio-Aufnahmen aus den Hamburger Container-Studios im Dezember 1981 - Aufnahmen aus einer Zeit, in der "sich die Band sowohl endgültig vom Punk als Musikrichtung verabschiedet hatte, als auch vom Einfluss des zwischenzeitlichen Produzenten Holger Czukay und einen völlig eigenen Stil gefunden hatte." (Kurt Dahlke, DAF)

Invitation to the Dance is the second album by nu metal band 40 Below Summer. The album was released on October 16, 2001. The album combines the downtuned riffs of nu metal/alternative metal with elements of New Jersey hardcore, hip hop, jazz and hard rock. Invitation to the Dance was made with the help of with well-known rock and metal producer GGGarth (Rage Against the Machine, Mudvayne) Allmusic wrote about the album "Invitation to the Dance at first glance may seem to be just another hard rock album, but along with further observation it is apparent that 40 Below Summer is striving to spice up what modern hard rock became in the 21st century." Invitation to the Dance is now available for the first time ever on vinyl, it's a numbered limited edition of 750 copies on translucent green coloured vinyl and includes an insert.

FALKENBACH waren ursprünglich ein von Vratyas Vakyas konzipiertes Soloprojekt und wurden offiziell erstmals im Jahr 1995 mit dem Demo "Læknishendr" aktiv. Sein im Jahr 1998 erschienenes zweites Album " ...Magni blandinn ok megintíri..." lässt sich als eine gereifte, melodischere Fortsetzung des Debüts " ...En their medh riki fara..." (1996) einordnen. Dessen angeschwärzter Pagan Metal Stil mit Einflüsse sowohl von Bathory als auch der zweiten nordischen Black Metal Welle blieb der Multiinstrumentalist erfolgreich treu. "...Magni blandinn ok megintíri..." gilt zu Recht weiterhin als ein wichtiger Meilenstein des Genres.

Electronic music at its best offers a tantalising glimpse of the future, capturing the moment of conception where new worlds and genres are brought into being. Amsterdam-via-Berlin label Q1E2 (standing for “quality first, ego second”) embodies this expansive promise on their new various-artists compilation, a thrilling speed-run through the cosmic outer-reaches of contemporary club sounds that highlights the work of essential emerging producers from around the globe.

Milan producer Jack Bags opens the proceedings with “Natural Thing”, an astral deep-dance immersion with zero-gravity synthesizer pads and skeletal dub percussion that echo out through the void, sensuous vocal samples arriving like scattered transmissions from the stereo of some long-lost spacecraft. datSIM’s “Influx” races through kaleidoscopic sci-fi spacescapes, presenting a futuristic reimagining of UK bass sounds with dextrous organ melodics and widescreen atmospherics. Mike Riviera and Marco Ohboy bring us back down for a more earthly kind of ecstatic experience, cranking up the humidity and coaxing out the endorphins with the appropriately-titled “Euphoria” - a rugged, rave-adjacent heater that cleverly rearranges elements of classic house and garage into a decidedly modern club workout.

Elsewhere there’s a distinctive undercurrent of jazz flowing through the compilation, mapping out thrilling new evolutions of the music on and off the dancefloor. Dr Sud’s mesmeric rhythm excursion “Zaffiro” unfurls like the coils of a cosmic serpent, tessellating percussion and slinking subs tracing intricate beat geometries. A Soft Mist Production’s “Upside Down Rainbows” settles in for the afters with smoked-out soulful atmospherics, syrupy vocals curling and turning in the air like smoke vapors from the last vestiges of a still-lit cigarette. The Rabbit Hole’s “Tail Groove” closes out the proceedings with a surprising bait-and-switch - opening on lustrous lounge piano that could have been comped straight from a Bill Evans record, the track quickly gives way to interstellar bass ‘n’ breaks. The producer’s canny use of cello licks adds a grounded, organic feel, jazz futurism that recalls Photek or LTJ Bukem’s sampling experiments.

Taken together, the label’s new compilation provides a snapshot of a scene in constant evolution, taking the temperature of the modern electronic scene and finding it to be in rude health.

Written by Matthew Fidler

SYML is the solo venture of artist Brian Fennell. Welsh for “simple”—he makes music that taps into the instincts that drive us to places of sanctuary, whether that be a place or a person. Born and raised in Seattle, Fennell studied piano and became a self-taught producer, programmer, and guitarist. Says Fennell about his album Nobody Lives Here, "We change, the world changes, and there is so much unknown. About a year ago I started writing songs that represent the change that is happening in front of my face, a group that have emerged to become the third SYML album. Many of these songs are about getting older, and the intimate, and sometimes frightening, passing of time. Some are about how getting older revolves around looking forward to things happening, and when they don’t happen, or they feel different than anticipated, we can be left with surprise and sadness. I’m actually reminded of this watching my 2 year old! We learn to live with disappointment. I recorded some of these songs with kids and dogs making noise in the background, and others in silent studios with musicians I’ve listened to and admired for many years. These songs are meant to be pieces of clothing to wear as you need (or I need). Some are bright and bold and others are gentle, but they were all made with a sense of comfort in mind, even when things feel bleak. My wife jokes that when our friends hear some of these songs, they might think we are not “ok”. Thankfully, putting myself inside a sad song is still a good place to feel happy. There's this generally unspoken feeling that musicians don’t listen to their own music. That isn’t true for me. I love living with my songs because their meaning changes as I change. There is as much fear and beauty in the big questions as there is wonder and possibility in the simple, everyday shit we live through.”

POISON IDEA’s momentum hasn’t slowed down one bit; this is still their brand of loud, potent powerthrash. Slightly more metal than in the past but the accent here is on the force and fury. Scorching. Each song on War All the Time flows into the other in a natural sequence for maximum impact and the whole thing blows over before you know it, but everything stays in your head, banging against the walls of your frontal bone. All this makes a good album, but what turns War All the Time into an amazing album are the lyrics and their delivery. Jerry A took the negative side of the world around him and expressed it in detail, rendered with words that can be read in a universal manner, expressing everything trivial and worthy of our puke in a language better suited to talk about the beauty of life. And those words remain as true to this day as the band’s riffs are brutal.

Das fünfte, den Durchbruch für Evan Dando bringende, Lemonheads-Album 'It's A Shame About Ray', wird zum 33-jährigen Jubiläum wieder als Single Vinyl in klassisch schwarz mit der Original-Tracklist nachgepresst (mit Download Card für die zusätzlichen Bonustracks der Deluxe Edition von 2022). Beschrieben von Musikjournalist und Autor Everett True als "Ein 30-minütiger Einblick in das, was es heißt, hart und schnell und locker und glücklich mit gleichgesinnten Kumpels zu leben, angetrieben von einer gemeinsamen Liebe zu ähnlichen Bands und Drogen und Alkohol und Freiheit". It's A Shame About Ray" hatte in jenen berauschenden, sorglosen Tagen des Jahres '92 eine beträchtliche Wirkung. Die Platte fängt perfekt Dandos Fähigkeit ein, die Sehnsucht und Lust der Teenager mühelos in einem zweiminütigen Popsong zu verpacken. Singles wie "My Drug Buddy" und der luftig-perfekte Pop des Titeltracks mögen herausstechen, aber die eigentliche Stärke des Albums liegt in den Tracks dazwischen; das wirklich fantastische 'Confetti' (über die Scheidung von Evans Eltern) und die atemberaubend lässige Akustik-Coverversion von 'Frank Mills' (aus dem Hippie-Musical Hair), eine Version, in der jedes Quäntchen Pathos und Gefühl für die verlorene Generation der 1960er mitzuschwingen scheint. Wenn Evan Dando Zeilen wie "I love him/but it embarrasses me/To walk down the street with him/He lives in Brooklyn somewhere/And he wears his white crash helmet" singt, weiß man erst richtig zu schätzen, wie wunderbar und verlockend Popmusik sein kann. Und dann gibt es da noch den Ansturm von Aufsässigkeit und Unverfrorenheit im wunderbar verkürzten 'Bit Part'; das aufgedrehte 'Ceiling Fan In My Spoon'... das war Jungs/Teenager-Popmusik mit Stil auf einem Niveau mit The Kinks, den frühen Undertones und den Wipers. "Ray sounds revelatory in its restlessness, mixing college pop with country flair and relocating Gus Van Sant's Portland atmosphere to New England." Pitchfork *****½ (Download only adiitional extras: 1 Mrs Robinson 2 Shakey Ground 3 My Drug Buddy (KCRW Session, 1992) 4 Knowing Me, Knowing You (Acoustic) 5 Confetti (Acoustic) 6 Alison's Starting To Happen (Acoustic) 7 Divan. Demo Recordings - Download only. 8 It's A Shame About Ray (Demo) 9 Rockin' Stroll (Demo) 10 My Drug Buddy (Demo) 11 Hannah & Gabi (Demo) 12 Kitchen (Demo) 13 Bit Part (Demo) 14 Rudderless (Demo) 15 Ceiling Fan In My Spoon (Demo) 16 Confetti (Demo))

THE NIGHTINGALES veröffentlichen ihr erstes Studioalbum seit dem viel gelobten Vorgänger "The Last Laugh" von 2022. Ihr neues Album "The Awful Truth", das am 4. April bei Fire Records erscheint, ist eine moderne Music-Hall-Interpretation mit Popsongs und 80er Nostalgie. Gefeiert in dem exzellenten, von Stewart Lee erzählten Film "King Rocker of 2020", in dem der Vorhang für die Magie des "altgedienten Punk/Alternative-Rock-Freiwilligen" (The Quietus) Robert Lloyd gelüftet wurde, sind THE NIGHTINGALES so aktuell wie eh und je, denn sie veröffentlichen eine scharfes Statement-Album auf die moderne Zeit, die zu Recht als "The Awful Truth" betitelt wird. Das Eröffnungsstück "The New Emperor's New Clothes" ist ein beschwingter, mitreißender Ausbruch mit einem dröhnenden Klavier, das den Song einleitend begleitet und dann in wilder, improvisierter Popmusik endet. Die Band über den Track: "A stream of consciousness. Initially inspired by the tawdry but tractable trend of the vacant, voluntarily egged on by ego hungry politicians, pop stars, beauties, ballers, ingrowing haters and hard-nosed influencers. One hundred percent on point with the nonsense of neo populism and savagely edited to fit the music, it is far from silky, it is futile and silly. Real rock 'n' roll." In den frühen 80er Jahren genossen sie Kultstatus als Lieblinge der glaubwürdigen Musikszene und wurden von John Peel angepriesen, der über sie sagte: ,Ihre Auftritte werden dazu dienen, ihre Exzellenz zu bestätigen, wenn wir weit genug von den 1980er Jahren entfernt sind, um diese Zeit rational zu betrachten, und andere, unendlich viel bekanntere Bands als Scharlatane entlarvt werden." Ihre Zeit ist in der Tat gekommen. The Nightingales sind Robert Lloyd, Andreas Schmid (Faust) am Bass, Fliss Kitson (Violet Violet) am Schlagzeug und Gitarrist James Smith (Damo Suzuki). "They genuinely sound more vital than ever." Uncut - "One of rock's unsung heroes" Esquire - "Still stunningly relevant" London Evening Standard - "Lloyd is the most underestimated songwriter of his generation" The Independent

'Wherever You Are' is a new solo piano album, played and composed by John Foxx. Most of the recordings were made at home and in the early hours of morning in the weeks following his rare live performance at Kings Place, London in October 2023, as part of the BBC Radio 3 'Night Tracks' event. 'Around dawn is the best time to play piano,' says Foxx. 'Self-critical mechanisms mostly dormant, so I'm free to invent and enjoy for a while. The piano faces a window overlooking a valley surrounded by hills, where the sun comes up. There's often an early mist in the valley - and quite often, it rains. Some notes and sounds resonate with remembered experiences and you get glimpses of times and people. It's valuable. Quiet. Free association, myriad moments orbiting - and off you go.' He adds: 'Lately I'm realising how we get formed by other people. Everyone we know or knew, who affects the way we think and the way we see things - even in a small way, has a voice, and all those voices remain in a sort of lifelong conversation. I hear them all the time. It's not at all frantic, it's more oceanic - calm and pleasant and it eventually makes us the way we are. Luckily, I seem to have met - and meet - mostly good, generous, bright people and I'm still learning a great deal from all of them. They give you the touchstones, the maps, the weather. It's how we find our way. So - simply, thanks. Wherever you are.'

Die Berliner Post-Punk-Band The Underground Youth um den Musiker und Autor Craig Dyer meldet sich mit ihrem zwölften Studioalbum „Décollage“
zurück. Das von Dyer selbst geschriebene, aufgenommene und produzierte Album ist eine Übung in künstlerischer Dekonstruktion, sowohl im Namen
als auch in der Form, und markiert eine entscheidende musikalische Wende. „Décollage ist die Kunst, ein Bild zu erschaffen, indem man Teile eines
bereits existierenden Werks herausreißt, abreißt oder entfernt. Meine Idee war es, diese Technik auf die Musik anzuwenden“, erklärt er. „Ich baute
Wände aus statisch überzogenen Hip-Hop-Drum-Samples, Schichten von Streicherarrangements im Stil von Lee Hazlewood und von Serge Gainsbourg
inspirierten Mellotron-Melodien auf, dann begann ich, diese schönen, chaotischen Wände aus Lärm abzureißen und legte einen neuen Sound für The
Underground Youth frei.“
Von Momenten geisterhaften Minimalismus bis hin zu ausladenden Crescendos aus Lärm und Melodie haben die Songs hier eine schattenhafte,
traumhafte Qualität. Neben Dyer besteht The Underground Youth aus der Schlagzeugerin und bildenden Künstlerin Olya Dyer, dem Gitarristen
Leonard Kaage (der auch bei der Postproduktion des Albums mitwirkte) und der Bassistin Samira Zahidi. Ursprünglich als Soloprojekt von Dyer im Jahr
2008 gegründet, hat die Band inzwischen 11 - mittlerweile 12 - Studioalben und 4 EPs veröffentlicht und dabei einen einzigartigen Sound entwickelt,
der im Laufe der Jahre von cineastischer Lo-Fi-Psychedelia über rauen, melancholischen Post-Punk bis hin zu Gothic-Folk-Noir reichte.

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.

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.