Buscar:stitch

Lucy Sissy Miller is a French/British singer-songwriter, performer and artist based in Paris. On her latest release for Mêtron Records, Pre Country, she renders her own personal take on country music, an ambient and airy ode to her love of Americana. Across 16 tracks, Miller recollects about love-like friendships, breakups, mermaids and missing girl mysteries - the album acting as a movie-like homage to girlhood and desire.

“With this album I really enjoyed blurring the lines between fiction and reality, a bit like what movies are able to do to us. I hide a little bit of personal truth behind each song.”

Influenced by the tones of Laurie Anderson and Imogen Heap, as well as the imagery found in Twin Peaks and Paris, Texas, Pre Country is a rich and explorative record that mixes a wide range of sonic sources. Though very much rooted in folk music, Pre Country is laced with layers of autotune, bringing an other worldly and haunted presence to the work.

“It’s an album about memories and how we stitch up these moments, making them movie-like to make sense of these experiences.”

The record was crafted with notes from journals, poetry, voice memos, transformed and collected sounds and here it carries the many layers of desire, loss and fear that Miller wanted to convey in the songs, communicating an unsteady, explosion of feeling whilst remaining delicate and personal.

'We are thrilled to be able to bring you Yara Asmar's first two cassette releases in a deluxe remastered double vinyl gatefold package featuring all new art and design from Yara herself.

Both albums were originally released on Hive Mind Records in 2022 and 2023 and received critical acclaim around the world':

“Melancholic drifts sound through the overcast skies of synth waltzes and accordion laments, infusing ageless melodies with a sense of falling backward through time. History is stitched through gilded aural silhouettes and elegiac drones. Asmar’s music is visceral. While electronics beckon beyond the sunrise stretched through a metallic shimmer, synth waltzes and accordion laments sticks with us while we remain lost in the hazy doldrums, always crawling forward tethered to our past lives. Highest recommendation.”
Brad Rose, Foxy Digitalis

"...these tracks are a cushion against reality. Asmar creates music that unfurls in evanescent bliss, an invitation to a safe space both isolated and welcoming."
Daryl Worthington, The Quietus

"...a set that transmutes the instrument’s droning tones into a sweep of introspective, breath-catching moments of beauty"
Eric Torres, Pitchfork Best Jazz & Experimental Albums of 2023

"The combination and contrast of highly familiar and highly alien elements give Asmar's music a quality not quite like anything else I can name. The way she channels found voices into her surreal mix of sounds is particularly striking."
Byron Coley, The Wire

Originally released in 1996, punk rock pioneers Chixdiggit’s debut album has finally been reissued in its original format.

On his new album ‚forge’, ambient artist KMRU explores the blend of melody and noise, rhythm and drone. ‚forge’ marks the third release on Seil Records for the Nairobi born and Berlin based producer. Made up of 10 tracks, the album effortlessly wanders from intimate compositions over field recordings to deep and rich soundscapes.

The result feels like a living, breathing organism. Music you can immerse yourself in. Like few others, the 27 year old producer carved a niche of his own, capturing the essence of his raw live performances to form a highly unique listening experience that transcends what ambient music is known for.

‚forge‘ can both exist in the background as well as front and center. Filled with intricate details and vast sonic vistas, it invites the listeners to lose themselves in the music. It’s gentle, yet uncompromising; soft and warm, yet growly and dense.

Celebrate the 50th anniversary of critically acclaimed album, The Dobbie Brothers' 'What Were Once Vices Are Now Habits'. Originally released in 1974, this album sonically stitched elements of rock, soul, folk and blues together with honeyed vocals, boisterous dual drumming and riffy guitars. Featuring tracks such as the band's first number one single, "Black Water", as well as other hits, "Another Park, Another Sunday", and "Eyes of Silver". This 1-LP is pressed on clear coloured vinyl.

John Davis is a sound artist and filmmaker based in the Bay Area. Active since the mid-aughts, he has published recordings on labels such as Root Strata and Digitalis, as well as on his own Bimodal Press imprint. “Landlines” sees a return to the SOD catalog for Davis, following a full-length release in 2013, and may be seen as somewhat of a spiritual successor to that album. In all of Davis’ work, there is a specific pastoral sensibility that feels firmly rooted in the forests and coasts of Northern California, moving with the delicate and erratic cadence of dust motes rendered visible in bright sunlight. Opening track “Verichrome” articulates the soundscape wonderfully, stitching together Music Mouse-esque formant synthesis and meditative vocal sampling with an exquisite minimalist suite for prepared piano. Of these recordings, Davis himself writes, “In a general sense the conceit here is nostalgia, a desire to reflect on the importance of connection – to ourselves and to the world around us. The title is, of course, a euphemism for the telephone, but I am also considering landscape, horizons, and infrastructure, as well as the invisible lines that connect us, the threads that bind us, and the communities that form us.”

REISSUED!!! Received an 8.1 rating from Pitchfork. "Sadly, many will hear Chris Corsano & Bill Orcutt's latest LP, Made Out of Sound, as 'not-jazz,' though it would be more aptly described as 'not-not-jazz.' In a better world, it would warrant above-the-fold reviews in Downbeat, or an appearance on David Sanborn's late-night show (if someone would only give it back to him). More likely, we can hope for a haiku review on Byron Coley's Twitter timeline to sufficiently connect the various improvised terrains trodden by this long-time duo—but if you've been able to listen past the overmodulated icepick fidelity of Harry Pussy, it should surprise you not an iota that Orcutt's style is rooted as much in the fractal melodies of Trane and Taylor as it is in Delta syrup or Tin Pan Alley glitz. As for Corsano, well, it may seem daft to call this particular record 'jazz' (because duh, it has a drummer), but to me Corsano is beyond jazz, almost beyond music, his ambidextrous, octopoid technique grappling many stylistic levers and spraying a torrent of light from every direction. Corsano's ferocity has elevated many 'mere' improv records to transcendence, but here he's crafted his polyrhythms within more narrative channels, bringing to mind his 'mannered' playing in the lamented Flower-Corsano duo. It's not 'groove' playing precisely, but it follows many grooves simultaneously, much like Orcutt's own melodic musings—which is why they're so naturally lock-in-key here. Which maybe makes it all the more surprising that Made Out of Sound was in fact recorded in different rooms on different coasts at different times, and stitched together by Orcutt on his desktop. Corsano recorded the drums in Ithaca, NY, and (as Orcutt states), 'I didn't edit them at all. I overdubbed two guitar tracks, panned left/right. I'd listen to the drums a couple times, pick a tuning, then improvise a part, thinking of the first track as backing and the second as the 'lead', though those are pretty fluid terms. I was watching the waveforms as I was recording, so I could see when a crescendo was coming or when to bring it down.' Fluidity ties the tracks together. With a little more groove and a little less around-the-beat maneuvering, one could almost hear the boiling harmonic layers as Miles-oid in 'Man Carrying Thing,' but with new-found Sharrockian modalities, Corsano accentuating the tumbling nature of the falling notes. The Sharrock vein continues with 'How to Cook a Wolf,' its Blind Willie-esque melodic simplicity and repetition extrapolated 360-style in a repetitive descending riff that falls into Cippolina-isms (by way of Verlaine ) until the end crashes upon the shore. Much like Orcutt's last solo album, Odds Against Tomorrow, there's a gentler, almost pastoral flow to some tracks ('Some Tennessee Jar,' 'A Port in Air,' 'Thirteen Ways of Looking') that calls to mind the mixolydian swamplands of Lonnie Liston Smith—but unlike Odds , other tracks ('The Thing Itself') smash that same lyricism into overdriven, multi-dimensional melodic clumps that push several vector envelopes at once in an Interstellar Space vein. With the help of Corsano, Orcutt has managed to slither even further out of the noise/improv pigeonhole lazy listeners/writers keep trying to shove him into. Looking at the back cover of Made Out of Sound , we should not see Orcutt hurling a guitar into the air with post-punk bravado, Corsano toiling behind him in the engine room—we should witness an instrument levitating from his hands, rising on invisible major-key tendrils of melody, fired by percussion, spiraling into an invisible event horizon..."—Tom Carter

Originally released in 1996 as a limited fan-club pressing for Rockathon, Guided By Voices’ Tonics And Twisted Chasers has always existed as an anomaly in Robert Pollard’s vast discography. In many ways, the album serves as the tail of a creative comet that in just two years included the “classic line-up” trilogy of Bee Thousand, Alien Lanes, Under the Bushes, Under the Stars and countless singles that crammed endless hooks in their grooves. In the intervening space, Tonics And Twisted Chasers has taken on a mythic status. It’s arguably Pollard’s strangest, gnarliest, most enlightened record and also the fans first chance to see the stitches that bind his galaxy of songs. It’s like peering at the caliber inside a watch, responsible for making the whole enterprise tick. This nineteen-song collaboration with guitarist Tobin Sprout could be interpreted as spontaneous sketches, late-night improvisations, ideas that blossomed later in the timeline (“Knock ’Em Flyin’” and “Key Losers”), but as with anything in Pollard’s orbit, its intention is clear when heard as a cohesive whole. The Pollard tenet that “less is more” is on full display here. The songs rarely creep past ninety seconds and coalesce much like Pollard’s collage-styled visual art. Arena anthems in miniature (“158 Years Of Beautiful Sex”) bash up against eerie piano laments (“Universal Nurse Finger”) without any time to breathe, acoustic lullabies that sound like a Midwestern summer’s twilight (“Look It’s Baseball”) segue into monochromatic post-rock (“Maxwell Jump”). The euphoric joy and obtuse melancholy in Pollard’s voice is so palpable on the album’s standout, “Dayton, Ohio 19 Something & 5” (which has since become a live staple), that it’s impossible to find a more autobiographical yarn in his catalog. The album’s closest analog is 1993’s Vampire On Titus, as it contains that album’s prickly, dark and shimmering obfuscation that only reveals its beauty after repeated listens. Tonics And Twisted Chasers maintains the lore because the melodies are so strong. Using a primitive drum machine, Radio Shack effects, minimal instrumentation and the DIY spirit that guided them in the first place, Pollard and Sprout constructed a masterpiece of pop that could only come from a basement in north Dayton, Ohio. Anyone in that hallowed era who happened upon it, kept it as a secret.

Originally released in 1996 as a limited fan-club pressing for Rockathon, Guided By Voices’ Tonics And Twisted Chasers has always existed as an anomaly in Robert Pollard’s vast discography. In many ways, the album serves as the tail of a creative comet that in just two years included the “classic line-up” trilogy of Bee Thousand, Alien Lanes, Under the Bushes, Under the Stars and countless singles that crammed endless hooks in their grooves. In the intervening space, Tonics And Twisted Chasers has taken on a mythic status. It’s arguably Pollard’s strangest, gnarliest, most enlightened record and also the fans first chance to see the stitches that bind his galaxy of songs. It’s like peering at the caliber inside a watch, responsible for making the whole enterprise tick. This nineteen-song collaboration with guitarist Tobin Sprout could be interpreted as spontaneous sketches, late-night improvisations, ideas that blossomed later in the timeline (“Knock ’Em Flyin’” and “Key Losers”), but as with anything in Pollard’s orbit, its intention is clear when heard as a cohesive whole. The Pollard tenet that “less is more” is on full display here. The songs rarely creep past ninety seconds and coalesce much like Pollard’s collage-styled visual art. Arena anthems in miniature (“158 Years Of Beautiful Sex”) bash up against eerie piano laments (“Universal Nurse Finger”) without any time to breathe, acoustic lullabies that sound like a Midwestern summer’s twilight (“Look It’s Baseball”) segue into monochromatic post-rock (“Maxwell Jump”). The euphoric joy and obtuse melancholy in Pollard’s voice is so palpable on the album’s standout, “Dayton, Ohio 19 Something & 5” (which has since become a live staple), that it’s impossible to find a more autobiographical yarn in his catalog. The album’s closest analog is 1993’s Vampire On Titus, as it contains that album’s prickly, dark and shimmering obfuscation that only reveals its beauty after repeated listens. Tonics And Twisted Chasers maintains the lore because the melodies are so strong. Using a primitive drum machine, Radio Shack effects, minimal instrumentation and the DIY spirit that guided them in the first place, Pollard and Sprout constructed a masterpiece of pop that could only come from a basement in north Dayton, Ohio. Anyone in that hallowed era who happened upon it, kept it as a secret.

Crack Cloud has always been something beyond a rock band: both profound and grand, vaporous and elusive. The first iteration of Crack Cloud was formed nearly a decade ago as a proxy-rehab outlet on the fringes of Calgary. Over time, two EPs and accompanying visual pieces were produced out of the residence known as Red Mile. By 2017, several members had relocated to Vancouver, working out of harm reduction centers and low-barrier shelters. Sobriety, self-reformation and the idealism of their work further formed an ethos for Crack Cloud. It was during these years that the band produced their astounding 2020 album Pain Olympics. At once, their vision became expansive, cinematic. Now, Red Mile is a bit of a homecoming. Members have returned to Calgary. But Calgary/home has become a liminal space, a place of flux. After a decade of personal and collective growth, what does home even mean? Red Mile is, for them, something like samsara: a return and a rebirth. Red Mile's sound breathes expansive energy into the circuitous, street bound sonics of Crack Cloud's prior material. Fizzling synths intertwine with chiming pianos. Songs layer like Russian nesting dolls; one may find a Ramones chorus set within a desolate Western prog soundtrack only to watch it erupt into a joyous anthem. Real-ass guitars _ alternately lilting, scuzzy and soaring _ ring out across wide sun-bleached spaces. In 2024, the cumulative effect is (in rock instrumentation terms) naturalistic. Any whiff of embalmed nostalgia is absent. Even the close of the album - a winding, almost Jerry Garcia guitar noodle that leads us out of Red Mile - is delivered without sentimentality. Principal songwriter Zach Choy's lyrics are cutting but merciful, with a sharp self-awareness that never slides into self-satisfaction. Crack Cloud as artists are critical _ and ultimately as forgiving _ of themselves as they are the melting world around them. The songs balance an easy charm and cathartic power: affirming life without denying death. Recorded predominantly between the outskirts of Joshua Tree California, and Calgary, Alberta, this record is informed by a bittersweet mélange of old and new. The sprawling, novelistic structures of their previous albums are condensed and sharpened, while maintaining their refusal to delve into superficiality. Through playful melodies and elliptical guitar soliloquy, they deliver a final product of exceptional depth and distinctly unprecious warmth. Crack Cloud have produced a mature, vital work that interrogates the platitudes of the rock-n-roll lifestyle, but ultimately exalts its sacredness. Red Mile's de facto thesis statement "The Medium" is itself a rock song meditation: an ode to the form and its practitioners. This genre that _ typical, repeatable, corporatized as it can be _ somehow still has the power to help us live through life. We see the dusty sentiment of "I love rock and roll" exhumed, taken apart, and stitched back together. It's a song guided by faith _ if the medium helps us proclaim our love today, it's worth protecting from derision tomorrow. We live in an era where music seems to love hitting its head against the wall. Crack Cloud's Red Mile is the sound _ the feeling! _ of the bricks giving way.

Crack Cloud has always been something beyond a rock band: both profound and grand, vaporous and elusive. The first iteration of Crack Cloud was formed nearly a decade ago as a proxy-rehab outlet on the fringes of Calgary. Over time, two EPs and accompanying visual pieces were produced out of the residence known as Red Mile. By 2017, several members had relocated to Vancouver, working out of harm reduction centers and low-barrier shelters. Sobriety, self-reformation and the idealism of their work further formed an ethos for Crack Cloud. It was during these years that the band produced their astounding 2020 album Pain Olympics. At once, their vision became expansive, cinematic. Now, Red Mile is a bit of a homecoming. Members have returned to Calgary. But Calgary/home has become a liminal space, a place of flux. After a decade of personal and collective growth, what does home even mean? Red Mile is, for them, something like samsara: a return and a rebirth. Red Mile's sound breathes expansive energy into the circuitous, street bound sonics of Crack Cloud's prior material. Fizzling synths intertwine with chiming pianos. Songs layer like Russian nesting dolls; one may find a Ramones chorus set within a desolate Western prog soundtrack only to watch it erupt into a joyous anthem. Real-ass guitars _ alternately lilting, scuzzy and soaring _ ring out across wide sun-bleached spaces. In 2024, the cumulative effect is (in rock instrumentation terms) naturalistic. Any whiff of embalmed nostalgia is absent. Even the close of the album - a winding, almost Jerry Garcia guitar noodle that leads us out of Red Mile - is delivered without sentimentality. Principal songwriter Zach Choy's lyrics are cutting but merciful, with a sharp self-awareness that never slides into self-satisfaction. Crack Cloud as artists are critical _ and ultimately as forgiving _ of themselves as they are the melting world around them. The songs balance an easy charm and cathartic power: affirming life without denying death. Recorded predominantly between the outskirts of Joshua Tree California, and Calgary, Alberta, this record is informed by a bittersweet mélange of old and new. The sprawling, novelistic structures of their previous albums are condensed and sharpened, while maintaining their refusal to delve into superficiality. Through playful melodies and elliptical guitar soliloquy, they deliver a final product of exceptional depth and distinctly unprecious warmth. Crack Cloud have produced a mature, vital work that interrogates the platitudes of the rock-n-roll lifestyle, but ultimately exalts its sacredness. Red Mile's de facto thesis statement "The Medium" is itself a rock song meditation: an ode to the form and its practitioners. This genre that _ typical, repeatable, corporatized as it can be _ somehow still has the power to help us live through life. We see the dusty sentiment of "I love rock and roll" exhumed, taken apart, and stitched back together. It's a song guided by faith _ if the medium helps us proclaim our love today, it's worth protecting from derision tomorrow. We live in an era where music seems to love hitting its head against the wall. Crack Cloud's Red Mile is the sound _ the feeling! _ of the bricks giving way.

LP, 2024 Repress - half speed mastering
"The 50 best IDM albums of all time"
Pitchfork

"A liquidy headbox of aural shapes, whose forms hardly change yet seem to encompass infinite viscosity within them, like rainbow pools of oil on water"
Wire

"Before IDM became a nation of Aphex and Autechre cosplayers, the genre was less defined by aesthetics than by a shared ideology. Here was a loosely connected axis of post-rave kids, united by little more than a shared willingness to subvert the tools of their techno idols and create sounds that hadn't previously been imagined. No record of the era better embodies this find-a-machine-and-freak-it ethos than Islets in Pink Polypropylene, the otherworldly debut by British producer Anthony Manning."
Pitchfork

"It’s refreshing to hear an all-electronic album that sounds so organic yet so totally alien."
Fact

"One of the UK’s first post-rave ambient records proper; sharing much more in common with Autechre’s Amber or AFX’s Selected Ambient Works Vol. II - which were both released in that same year - than anything else before or around it."
Boomkat

For fans of avant everything innovative and experimental music.




About The Album>>>>

The whole album was composed and realized on the Roland R8 drum machine. It followed the same process as the Elastic Variations pieces, with the major addition of many, many hours of editing.

Each piece was composed as a series of patterns, of varying lengths ( 5,6,7 bars long ). The stock R8 sounds were embellished with one of several ROM sound library cards ( mostly the Dance card, number 10 ).

These patterns were created by tapping out a rhythm, then, in real time, using the Pitch slider as the pattern looped, to create improvised melodies for each of the pattern's voices.

The rough version of each piece was built by stitching the patterns together as a song, listening to each addition over and over, to make sure the melodies flowed into each other in a vaguely coherent manner.

Once this initial rough structure was in place I set about fine tuning every single note.

The R8 doesn't allow you to assign a pitch to a note in the conventional sense. It's not possible to assign a pitch of Middle C to the first note of the first bar. Instead, it assigns a numerical value to a note's pitch, between -4800 and +4800 ( I think those numbers are correct - that little screen is seared into my memory ).

If you restrict all notes within a piece to a multiple of, say, 400, you therefore create the possibility of a sort of scale. For multiples of 400, you have a total number of 24 permissable notes. However, most of the percussive sounds, when pitch shifted, only sounded 'good' over a reduced range.

The first editing step was to go through the entire piece, and change every note's pitch to its nearest multiple of 400.

The second step was to draw out the entire piece on graph paper, the Y axis being pitch, X being time. This drawing gave me a visual sense of a melody's flow. It was easy to see too many notes clustering around too tight a pitch range for instance, or a single note straying way down into the lower register while all others at that point in the melody were in the upper.

Once these first 'clearing-up' edits were complete I could set about re-writing elements that didn't sound right melodically. Often this meant stripping out whole chunks of superfluous notes, to reveal a cleaner melody line, then shifting its shape slightly. If the flow of the line of dots on the graph 'looked' balanced and sweetly sinuous, then often it sounded so.

This entire process took many weeks per piece. Weeks of doing almost nothing else. Listening. Re-drawing. Re-writing. Listening. Round and round and round. When I could hear the whole thing in my head, from beginning to end, and nothing seemed to jar ( too excessively ), I knew it was done, time to move on.

I imagine it's very similar to the process of stop animation. Your days are filled with painfully tiny incremental changes that seem to be getting nowhere. Then, slowly, a shape, narrative, starts to appear. Then, all of a sudden, somehow, it's done.

When all the pieces were complete the R8 was taken into Irdial's studio where some simple effects were added, each voice recorded individually for clarity onto 8-track tape and mastered onto an ex-BBC half-inch tape deck.

Then I slept. And vowed never to do it again.

*****

And the title ?

Soon after finishing the pieces I happened to read a magazine article about Christo's "Surrounded Islands" installation with the music playing in the background.

There was something about a particular cluster of words within a random sentence that seemed pleasing and somehow appropriate.

"Islets in Pink Polypropylene" seemed to make as much sense as anything else.

This collaboration between Spanish producer Nueen and Manc vocalist / rapper Iceboy Violet - who has previously sprinkled their magic dust across Hyperdub releases from aya and Loraine James - traces the arc of a four year relationship, memorialising its highs and documenting its lows, processing, reflecting, and then ending with the ecstatic spark of new love. It’s a magical, intimate and heartfelt album, sometimes anguished but often enchanting. Nueen's music responds with foggy, but richly detailed, production. Smudgy drill-laced beats contrast with curdled, spiralling chords, at times drawing out a malevolent ambience. ‘You Said You'd Hold My Hand Through The Fire’ is an immensely affecting and lucid album, powerfully wrought, ultimately hopeful.

‘Empires into Sand’ is the first album of new material from Normil Hawaiians in 40 years. The group first refined their sound during the early 80s, hitting on a pastoral experimentalism that drew on ambient drone, motorik impulse and post-punk pep.
‘Empires into Sand’ came together in the familiar manner of their original three albums, with improvisation and nuance informing the blueprint of the tracks. It was with the official release of this last record ‘Return of the Ranters’ (originally recorded in 1984/85, but then unconsciously shelved) in 2015 by Upset The Rhythm that led to the group reconnecting with the intention of playing music together again. Normil Hawaiians played a launch show for that ‘lost album’ and followed that up with more concerts, including an appearance at Supernormal, a residency at the Edinburgh Festival, gigs at Cafe OTO. They were even chosen by Richard Dawson to perform with him in London.
Throughout this time, Normil Hawaiians revisited their original songs for live performance. However for a group always so interested in evolving their sound, it came as no surprise that they shirked at the idea of a faithful retread. The band pushed their songs into new inventive dimensions, still progressive at core, but now imbued with a cosmic uncanny. A cinematic approach that was always quietly present has come to the fore. The quaint weirdness of folk song, the humanity of communal practice and the group’s ecological mindedness have all found a place in Normil Hawaiians’ current sound world.
When Normil Hawaiians write and record music they prefer to gather in a remote location and live together for a while, such is their communal ethos. Being far-flung across the UK, the Family Hawaii (numbering seven key members) decided to encamp to Tayinloan, a small village on the west coast of the Kintyre peninsula in Scotland. They set up their own studio in an isolated, windswept house overlooking the sea and started the tape rolling. Noel Blanden from the band explains the process neatly: “we set up and began playing, slowly and patiently, allowing the music to take its own shape based on where we were staying and our ongoing friendship. We recorded for days, capturing everything. A lot of new and rich ideas began to emerge”.
Normil Hawaiians took their time to develop these threads at their own pace, allowing songs to mutate and settle over months. Simon Marchant deftly produced and recorded the album whilst also performing in the band, this marked the first time the band had total control of their own sound. The last few years has seen the band reconvene in Herne Bay, Faversham, London and Leith to record new parts, constantly responding to the changing form of these quietly spectral songs of defiance.
‘Empires into Sand’ incorporates samples from old rehearsals and live music into the new finished pieces, this is in continuum with their previous records. Snippets of sound from the static of short wave radio and satellite transmissions also embellish the work. In fact the whole album is stitched together with interludes, creating an acutely immersive 45 minutes. ‘Exiles’ opens the album amid swirling atmospheres, synth flights and recordings of Vilnis Egle (father of Zinta Egle from the band) retelling his experience of fleeing his home in Latvia during Soviet occupation in 1942. George Bikandy also features on this track talking about his flight from Syria in 2014. ‘Ghosts of Ballochroy’ is a winding river of a song featuring a lively discourse in Scots courtesy of Rodney Relax. There’s a commitment to truth telling present across this hopeful album populated with angels, incoming tides, long shadows and the rose-washed sun. “From our broken windscreen, we feel the breeze” soars Guy Smith triumphantly over the driving beat of ‘Waterfalls : Bedford 330’. ‘Big City Sky’ flutters and sparkles with rapid synth runs, tape-looped drums and Jimmy Miller’s commanding vocal. With ‘In The Stone’ Zinta’s melody is deliberately jagged and blunt, exaggerated by octave-layered vocals and interjections from Guy.
This is thought-provoking, boundary-bothering music. Honest in intent, a solidarity of vision. The album’s title is derived from a poem by band member Mark Tyler, who sadly passed away during the recording process and the transience of life is felt heavily throughout. Noel best coins the group’s wish for the album: “we wanted to create an album that acknowledges our history and also reflects who we are today. We remained true to ourselves and we wanted to make something beautiful without removing the edges.” ‘Empires into Sand’ certainly does that, it’s an echo from the past, an echo from the future.

Out on May 3rd, "Anniversary" is the new studio album from critically acclaimed artist Adeem the Artist. The album was produced by Butch Walker who has produced hits for artists including Weezer, Fall Out Boy, Pink, Katy Perry, Panic! At the Disco, Dashboard Confessional, Avril Lavigne and many others. This record is the continuation of a project that they began four years ago, directing their attention both inwards & outwards simultaneously and to exact correlating values so that they might be able to unbind the inner workings of themself while imagining new tools for stitching the fabric of society together again. It mostly just made some gay people like country music again.

Spanning more than two decades, Mike Kinsella's widely influential songwriting has steadily sharpened and evolved with each new chapter. In his solo vehicle as Owen (in addition to his roles along the way with American Football, Cap'n Jazz, the more recent LIES, and other collaborative ventures), Kinsella’s ability to seamlessly stitch jagged emotional currents into crushingly beautiful songs has remained at the forefront of his art. The Falls of Sioux, Mike Kinsella’s newest Owen full-length, represent a type of reinvention; feeling like the natural next step in Kinsella’s growth, both artistic and personal. The album perforates an established sound to explore unlikely musical ideas, while the songs document a time of moving through life-altering turmoil into brighter days. Heavy themes are turned over with a gentle hand, and Kinsella inhabits the deeper perspectives that come with hard-earned life experience. This contrast has become more distinct as Owen expanded from unassuming acoustic beginnings into more ornate production, reaching new levels of complexity and clarity by the release of 2020’s The Avalanche.

Out of print as a stand-alone release for decades since its original 1974 issue. Produced by George Harrison, Shankar Family & Friends is an almost-forgotten masterwork – an emotional and sonic pact between two like-minded souls to both advance their spiritually minded bond and unite musical styles, cultures, and sounds in wondrous fashion Contributions from Ringo Starr, David Bromberg, Billy Preston, Nicky Hopkins, Jim Keltner, Klaus Voorman, and a host of virtuosic Indian musicians add to a diverse album that melds Eastern and Western traditions; encompasses jazz, funk, bhajan, Indian, and pop; and represents the spirit and breadth of Harrison's Dark Horse Records imprint.

Memorable contributions from an A-list of American and English musicians — Ringo Starr (drums), David Bromberg (electric guitar), Billy Preston (organ), Nicky Hopkins (piano), Jim Keltner (drums), Klaus Voorman (bass), Robert Margouleff (Moog), Malcolm Cecil (Moog), Tom Scott (saxophone) included — add to the richness of a set that melds Eastern and Western traditions. These “names” mesh with a host of Indian virtuosos — Alla Rakha, Ashish Khan, Kamala Chakravarty, Hariprasad Chaurasia included — who turn Shankar Family & Friends into a journey laced with percussive, string, and vocal components that aren’t soon forgotten.

Throughout, Shankar Family & Friends remains true to its title — a mesmerizing record named to reflect the group participation approach of its creators. The idea started when Shankar told Harrison about a ballet he wrote. The Beatle, who first met Shankar in June 1966 — roughly a year after Harrison became interested in Indian music after overhearing it in a restaurant while filming Help! — immediately was convinced they needed to record it. Harrison’s staunch admiration of Shankar and serious approach to Eastern styles are reflected throughout the album.

Indeed, for Harrison, Shankar Family & Friends marks the culmination of a years-long effort to master the sitar, study Hinduism, and incorporate elements such as drones, unusual chords, and expressive picking into his own songs. The seeds of this unique collaboration can be heard in Beatles works such as “Norwegian Wood,” “Love to You,” and “Within You Without You.” Both musicians were also fresh from performing at the 1971 Concert for Bangladesh shows. Yet Shankar Family & Friends remains entirely unique in each visionary artist’s history — and ultimately, led to a collaborative tour Harrison and Shankar staged across North America.

Encompassing jazz, funk, bhajan, Indian, and pop, Shankar Family & Friends is thematically split into halves. Side One reveals Shankar’s uncanny ear for melody — even when applied to Western forms. The lead-off “I Am Missing You,” the first single ever released by Dark Horse Records and reportedly the first pop composition Shankar completed, underscores his skills as a composer and global ambassador. Beautifully sung across three octaves by his sister-in-law, Lakshmi Shankar, the devotional song features multiple drummers and production that mirrors Phil Spector’s Wall of Sound approach. Harrison plays autoharp and guitar; Starr sits in on drums; Scott handles flute and soprano saxophone. It’s the inviting start of a musical adventure teeming with color, majesty, and mysticism.

A second version of the track — designated with a “(Reprise)” tag — appears minutes later. Unfolding in different ways, it follows a folk ballad structure stitched together with Indian instrumentation. Here, according to Shankar, the musicians “attempted to convey the sounds and atmosphere of Vrindavan, the ancient holy place where Krishna grew up.” Both renditions speak to the cross-continental fusion that came so naturally to Harrison and Shankar, whose oversight on the side’s other vocal tracks ensures listeners familiar with Western methods gain easy access to the hypnotic allure of his native country’s music.

Nowhere is this more evident than on Dream, Nightmare & Dawn (Music for a Ballet), the side-long piece that served as the genesis for Shankar Family & Friends. Launched with an airy overture and unfolding across three movements, the mostly wordless suite features everything from call-and-response interplay and classical lyricism to uptempo dance figures, stacked rhythms, and intoxicating grooves. Blurring the lines between contemporary and traditional, and Western and Eastern, the inspirational work is the exclamation point on a record that defined “world music” well before the term became co-opted as a catch-all genre.

What the listener might encounter on this album goes all the way down to the sound of a neuron transmitting pain, beatitude or any one of the countless senses and impressions we feel on any one day of life. N E U R O is the debut album by CURA MACHINES, a new project by Daniel Lea whose tracks are at once scientific in their capturing of the morphing of body cells as well as the larger expanses of a poetic filmscape of the contemporary metropolis.

The name CURA MACHINES comes from a sign Lea saw on a trip to Ancona, Italy at an abandoned hospital: Prima E Dopo La Cura (Before and after the cure). The sound in between, of what was lost or found, transmuted in the heavily manipulated and pulsating synthesisers, is the restoration here. With a physically visceral mix by Ben Frost and soaring re-amped bass textures from Yair Elazar Glotman, the album is lush with trans-morphing apeggia that shudder, quack and soar into ashen sparks.

Back in the turn of the 20th century the poet Rilke posited that the suture patterns of fused skull plates could potentially be played by the then-new technology of the gramophone, with each of us having our own personal tonal source code or anthem etched onto our skulls. And with a track like 'Suture' we have such an embodied sound: the close-up exhumation of the neural brain casing, stitched and sewn together in fleeting pulses of whisper and alarm.
The individual is exposed and isolated, but not without the promise of succour.

Or one also has the soundtrack to the loneliness of a morose private eye – a pulp novel set in a future time of neurosis or washed out euphoric beauty. It is here in tracks such as 'Terminal Zone' or 'Inversion Layers', music that is blinking in celluloid frames. The plot could easily be a sci-fi, paranoid tale of brain emulation, transhumanist crimes against humanity itself. After all this is Lea's soundtrack to Los Angeles, the city of angels that has been captured in countless movies: the racing tracking shot of the 2nd Street Tunnel at night, the freeways spreading out in a glorious sprawl of lit up veins and arteries. The last track 'Zosa' marks out the boundary line that delineates between day and night, when the lunar strains wane, the tides subside and the city comes to life.

Watch Out! Here comes the third strike from Bremen's noise post-punkers. Bulky here, catchy there... and then another weird surprise comes around the corner and smashes into your ear canals...11 tracks & the record spins at 45 RPM! Defekt Defekt are a UK/DE trio that play music influenced by early 80s british punk rock or post punk. They have released 3 LPs and have toured the U.K., France, Belgium ,Holland and Germany. They have been requested (by the bands) as a supporting act for Jello biafra a.t.g.s.m, Slime, The Briefs and the Subhumans. Band members have played in many other bands as founder members or stand in players including The Smart Pils , Zygote ,The Moorat Fingers ,Chung ,Cross Stitched Eyes,M.O.T.O and The Sonny Vincent band and various other acts aswell as working with members of The Circle jerks,Hawkwind,Amebix, and various others.

During the Tang dynasty (around the 9th Century CE), traveling intellectual Li Yuanming would routinely leave home to write and debate poetry with likeminded scholars across China, isolating his wife Cifu for sometimes weeks on end.

Frustrated, she found comfort in the arms of a widowed neighbor, but when Li remained at home for an unexpected stretch of time, Cifu was prompted to develop a method to signal her lover it was safe to approach. She stitched a special green hat that she handed to her husband as he was about to leave town; when Li was wearing the hat, it worked like a traffic signal - green meant go.

But this didn't last for long, during one trip Li returned home early and caught Cifu and their neighbor together, and when the local community caught wind of the story, the green hat became an enduring symbol of infidelity.

On Tzusing's sophomore album the Malaysian-born artist, who lives between Shanghai and Taipei, meditates on China's complicated history of patriarchal heteronormativity, and how these archaic double standards continue to dominate the culture in pervasive, often invisible ways.