quête:street life

An assortment of grooves of artists from many walks of life all on one 180g piece of vinyl...

Mr. K takes on two different disco moods in the latest in his long-running series of edits on 45.

Danny Krivit’s edit of Tony Orlando’s “Don’t Let Go” was released in Japan in 2012 and immediately became a sought-after, impossible to find rarity. Orlando’s version of “Don’t Let Go” was released at the height of the disco era, but the song itself was already a well-worn pop standard, having been covered by numerous artists before the pop singer tried his hand at it, switching things up with a percolating disco groove. “I never expected to rave about a Tony Orlando record,” wrote Vince Aletti in his Record World column in June of 1978, “but this one’s really terrific… My pick for a summer refresher.” The Jimmy Simpson mix on the original 12-inch follows the vocals with a long instrumental section that teases the various elements provided by the Muscle Shoals band (guitar, vibes, strings, and above all a sinuous synth) back in over the relentless bass and drums. Danny’s edit, which he’s trimmed down for its debut on 7-inch, works with this instrumental break and more than lives up to Aletti’s description as an addictive warm weather jam.

From the moody instrumental sound of “Don’t Let Go” we move to the bright uptempo vocal track "I Fall In Love Everyday." In spite of the relative obscurity of this fabulous but lesser-known cut, it comes with a sparkling pedigree. “I Fall In Love Everyday” was written by Jay Graydon (whose credits also include “Turn Your Love Around” for George Benson and “Breakin’ Away” for Al Jarreau), produced by Motown ace Mickey Stevenson (who wrote “Dancing In the Street”) and arranged by David Foster, who was just making the transition from session keyboardist to the superstar songwriter/arranger he’d become. The backing track was first used for singer/TV personality Jaye P. Morgan’s version of the song a year earlier, but you certainly can’t blame the team for reusing the music when the band included studio heavyweights like Harvey Mason, Lee Ritenour, Ray Parker Jr., and Kenny Loggins. Danny’s creative edit fashions a clean, DJ-friendly instrumental intro where none existed on the original, and gives new life to a track that’s sure to bring some sunshine to dancefloors.

As always, these unique selections from Mr. K’s personal stash are cut on a loud, club-ready 7-inch pressing.

In the late ‘80s, a wave of British musicians raised on ‘70s UK pop, Caribbean sound system culture, reggae, lovers rock and Motown/Philly soul music fell in love with synthesisers, drum machines and 8-track recorders. The street soul generation had arrived.

Originally released as a white label 12” in 1989, ‘You’ve Gone’ is the sole release from Bassline, the studio project of Southeast London-raised musician Tony Henry, not to be confused with Tony Henry from Manchester jazz-funk/R&B band 52nd Street. Featuring the singer Lorraine Chambers, it’s one of the true jewels of the UK Street Soul scene. As Lorraine’s heartsick soul vocal glides over sunrise synths, dusty drums, elegant electric piano figures and a reggae indebted bassline, ‘You’ve Gone’ captures the optimism and strength of the era perfectly.

‘You’ve Gone’ was championed by Choice FM UK (now Capital XTRA), Kiss FM, and DJ Trevor Nelson. Tony went from selling white labels out the trunk to booking in Live PAs for Lorraine with London sound systems like Rampage and up north in the street soul loving cities of Manchester and Birmingham. “When Lorraine did PAs up there, she went out on stage like she was Beyoncé.”

The son of a Jamaican father and an English mother, Tony grew up around the London sound system scene. He taught himself bass guitar, keyboards, and production, before playing in the reggae band Chakwanza (Swahili for “the first”). In Chakwanza, Tony rubbed shoulders with Aswad, Barry Boom, Steel Pulse, Maxi Priest, Gregory Issacs, Dennis Brown, Ghettotone and Saxon Sound, before focusing on a career in banking over music. “Music was my first love, but it couldn’t have afforded me the sort of level of - let’s be blunt and pragmatic about it - financial success that would have allowed me to support my family.”

Outside of office hours, Tony continued to work on music at home, sometimes serving as a session bassist with local bands. In the late 80s, a work colleague mentioned her sister Lorraine Chambers was a singer. Tony and Lorraine recorded “You’ve Gone” over two sessions. “Lorraine went into the booth, put her headphones on and got into the song. My daughter turned to me and said, ‘Daddy, she can really sing!’”

Despite the success of ‘You’ve Gone’, they never recorded together again. “The world changed, and for me, it changed as well. My younger kids were born, and work started getting more intense. I got a bit more successful and was living a mad, kind of crazy life.”

Thirty-two years on, ‘You’ve Gone’ finally receives an official reissue comprising the lauded original mix, an alternate version and Tony’s Back to Bass-ics remix. Fittingly, in recent months, Tony and Lorraine have re-connected in the studio writing new material.

Grounded in a season of life that has been earned rather than borrowed, Benjamin Tod speaks with the ease of someone no longer running from himself. There is joy now - a steadiness that comes from commitment. With the recent arrival of his son and a deep well of new music on the horizon, Tod is firmly rooted in both purpose and possibility. That clarity is evident in Vengeance and Grace, the Lost Dog Street Band frontman's forthcoming and most expansive solo album to date. Conceived as a "dual-version" release, the project presents two parallel worlds: (Alone) is a stripped solo-acoustic version, along with its full band counterpart.

Together, the two versions form the full range of what Tod is capable of: restraint on one side, force on the other. At the core of Tod's writing is a simple conviction: music should serve something larger than the moment. His writing speaks to mind, body, and soul, shaped by faith, discipline, and a hard-earned understanding of consequence. The darkness that once defined him is neither denied nor indulged. It is understood and no longer in control. Today, Tod moves with a sense of calm that wasn't always there. He is grateful, settled, and intentional, continuing to follow the compass that's guided him from the beginning. Rooted in traditional country and folk, his work stands firmly in the modern music landscape, shaped by experience, restraint, and the life he's built around it.

BCUC – Bantu Continua Uhuru Consciousness – have been channeling the spirit of Soweto for over twenty years. Indigenous funk, hip-hop consciousness, and punk rock energy fused into something utterly original and deeply rooted. Their mantra: Music for the people, by the people, with the people. From humble beginnings rehearsing in a shipping container, a stone's throw from the church where Desmond Tutu organized the escape of the most wanted anti-Apartheid activists, they kept believing in their dream of self-empowerment. Today they command festival stages worldwide: Glastonbury West Holts, Roskilde, Afropunk Brooklyn, WOMAD, Fusion, Sziget, FMM Sines, Beaches Brew, Boomtown, Colours of Ostrava, Couleur Café – to name just a few. In 2023, BCUC were honoured with the prestigious WOMEX Artist Award, an accolade usually reserved for more established artists, in recognition of their fearless work and transcendent live performances.

THE ROAD IS NEVER EASY

The Road Is Never Easy is BCUC's fifth album and their debut on Outhere Records. On this new offering, BCUC take listeners on another Afro-psychedelic journey into the soul of Soweto. It feels like a gospel sermon colliding with a punk concert, "guaranteed to touch untapped corners of your soul" (OkayAfrica). BCUC's music is deeply rooted in history and echoes the voices of the ones who came before. The road was never easy for the people of Soweto who originally came to work in the mines of Egoli, the City of Gold, Johannesburg. When apartheid finally ended after a long struggle, it was hoped that life would improve. But more than 30 years later, many of those initial hopes and dreams are still waiting to be fulfilled. This album is about that struggle. The album contains 10 brand new songs – a record for BCUC, whose previous albums featured an average of 3 songs. It represents the culmination of more than two decades of performing together and building a reputation as a powerful live act. These ten songs encapsulate that same live energy, each one building gradually and drawing you into BCUC's Afro-psychedelic stream of consciousness. It's a seismic tour de force through life in Soweto today. Songs like Amakhandela (Breaking All the Chains) connect history to daily life: "How is this precious metal inflicting so much pain in us," sing BCUC, "this government has been telling us we are free, but we don't benefit from being free." The album also talks about all the hopes and dreams that remain: "I have too many wishes and dreams in my head," BCUC sing in Um duma khanda, "I think I am losing my mind". The album ends with the soothing Matla a rona ke Bophelo, "our strength is life", praising the spirits and thanking the elders for protection. The Road Is Never Easy is about the harsh reality of life in Soweto, where "people always carry heavy loads". BCUC are street poets trying to deal with that burden: sometimes revolutionary, sometimes soothing, but always hopeful and compassionate. "When you are from Soweto you can't retreat nor surrender." (Sebenzela)

RECORDING

The album was largely recorded in Munich, Germany during tour breaks over two sessions, each three days long. It took place in a small studio located in a German WW II bunker converted into rehearsal spaces. The songs were recorded in one take altogether in one room, with only a few overdubs added, mainly backing vocals, by BCUC at Fourways studio in Johannesburg. BCUC have created their own distinctive way of writing, or rather, finding and creating their songs. The recording process is like an improvised live performance. They bring their ideas into a zone where the music, the rhythm and the spirits take over until the song starts to form. In this Afro-psychedelic zone BCUC create their unique poetry that feeds on the dreams still dreamt, the hopes, the fears and the temptations lingering everywhere. BCUC's songs need to breathe and time to build. The right take was the one when the song took over, and just like their live performances, no one knew beforehand where the song would take them. During the recording, BCUC just let it all flow out: inner turmoil, cries of rebellion, but also resilience and a search for healing, love, unity and compassion. You don't have to be from Soweto to feel the deep meaning and impact of this music. In these times of so much hate and division, BCUC are like a campfire for people to gather around.

PRODUCTION & ARTWORK

"BCUC have a unique magic," says Outhere's Jay Rutledge, who produced the album. "It blew our minds. It's like punk and pure gospel at the same time. Their music can make you dance and it can make you cry, all at the same time. And when the song is over, you feel you're not alone in this world anymore. We felt compelled to do this." The album cover is based on a matchbox design, matches being a common household item in South Africa even today. "These were the matches people used to burn government buildings and cars," explain BCUC. Little messages, addresses, or phone numbers used to be scribbled on the back of these boxes; each one a reminder of the strength, resilience, and resistance that once drove the struggle for freedom in Soweto. BCUC keep this flame burning. The Road Is Never Easy is a heavy spiritual road trip, a deep dive into the subconscious of Soweto and a quest for truth, justice and sanity in this crazy world. BCUC tackle the harsh realities of the voiceless, guided by the spirit world of their ancestors. Rather than reinforcing stereotypes of poverty, BCUC's portrayal of Africa is one rich in tradition, rituals and beliefs. "We bring fun and Afro-psychedelic fire from the hood," says vocalist Kgomotso Mokone.

Knowledge The Pirate returns with a powerful new statement with his new album, The Round Table, which is now available. The Round Table is produced in its entirety by longtime collaborator and legend Roc Marciano through his Pimpire International imprint.

With roots in New York’s revered ‘90s hip-hop scene, Knowledge The Pirate has steadily built a reputation as one of the genre’s most consistent and authentic voices. A frequent Roc Marci collaborator and key figure in the modern underground renaissance, Knowledge fuses golden-age grit with new wave innovation—bridging generations while staying firmly rooted in New York’s timeless sound.

Since his 2018 debut Flintlock, Knowledge has carved a lane entirely his own through his label Treasure Chest Entertainment, Inc. With five acclaimed projects under his belt, including the recent 5lbs of Pressure, he continues to deliver unfiltered street wisdom and personal reflection in every bar.

The Round Table stands as a testament to his evolution—an uncompromising body of work laced with Roc Marciano’s signature production and Knowledge’s lived-in lyricism. It’s not just a record—it’s a meeting of the minds, an audio council of kings.

“The Round Table is cinematic storytelling, teaching street knowledge, eating etiquette that will save your life” Knowledge professes. “This album is like an Honorable Elijah Muhammad book; How To Eat To Live. Produced fully by the true creator of the new wave sound, Roc Marciano, you are all invited to a seat at The Round Table; and break bread with the true Godfathers of this new wave rap renaissance.”

Brighton-born, Cincinnati-based producer Marsh a.k.a Tom Marshall. ‘Lailonie’ is Marsh’s second studio album and debut Anjunadeep LP. After joining Anjunadeep back in 2018 via ‘Explorations 07’ with ‘Black Mountain’, Marsh has gone on to release a string of well received original EPs including ‘Prospect’ with label mate Nox Vahn, ‘Eu Topos’ and his latest ‘Lost In You’ as well as remixing some of the biggest artists in dance music including Above & Beyond and Armin van Buuren.

Marsh has previously released on Silk Music, where he released his debut album ‘Life On The Shore’ in 2017; and Enhanced Music’s progressive house imprint Colourize. Over the past 2 years, Marsh has become a firm Anjunadeep fan favourite all the while establishing himself as a future star of the electronic scene with a steady stream of tastemaker backing from Joris Voorn, Rufus Du Sol, Kölsch and BBC Radio 1’s Pete Tong and Phil Taggart. Recent years have seen him tour globally with Above & Beyond as well as share the bill with legends like Sasha & Digweed and Guy J.

Recorded in 1960, The Genius Hits the Road was a conceptual album by the great Ray Charles with all its songs referring to a geographical location. Arranged and conducted by Ralph Burns and featuring key members of Ray's band - including saxophonist David "Fathead" Newman and trumpeter Marcus Belgrave - plus strings, the album includes the perennial hit "Georgia On My Mind" - the Hoagy Carmichael song that Ray Charles made his own.

UILTY RAZORS, BONA FIDE PUNKS.



Writings on the topic that go off in all directions, mind-numbing lectures given by academics, and testimonies, most of them heavily doctored, from those who “lived through that era”: so many people today fantasize about the early days of punk in our country… This blessed moment when no one had yet thought of flaunting a ridiculous green mohawk, taking Sid Vicious as a hero, or – even worse – making the so-called alternative scene both festive and boorish. There was no such thing in 1976 or 1977, when it wasn’t easy to get hold of the first 45s by the Pistols or the Clash. Few people were aware of what was happening on the fringes of the fringes at the time. Malcolm McLaren was virtually unknown, and having short hair made you seem strange. Who knew then that rock music, which had taken a very bad turn since the early 1970s, would once again become an essential element of liberation? That, thanks to short and fast songs, it would once again rediscover that primitive, social side that was so hated by older generations? Who knew that, besides a few loners who read the music press (it was even better if they read it in English) and frequented the right record stores? Many of these formed bands, because it was impossible to do otherwise. We quickly went from listening to the Velvet Underground to trying to play the Stooges’ intros. It’s a somewhat collective story, even though there weren’t many people to start it.
The Guilty Razors were among those who took part in this initial upheaval in Paris. They were far from being the worst. They had something special and even released a single that was well above the national average. They also had enough songs to fill an album, the one you’re holding. In everyone’s opinion, they were definitely not among the punk impostors that followed in their wake. They were, at least, genuine and credible.

Guilty Razors, Parisian punk band (1975-1978). To understand something about their somewhat linear but very energetic sound, we might need to talk about the context in which it was born and, more broadly, recall the boredom (a theme that would become capital in punk songs) coupled with the desire to blow everything off, which were the basis for the formation of bands playing a rejuvenated rock music ; about the passion for a few records by the Kinks or the early Who, by the Stooges, by the Velvet mostly, which set you apart from the crowd.
And of course, we should remember this new wave, which was promoted by a few articles in the specialized press and some cutting-edge record stores, coming from New York or London, whose small but powerful influence could be felt in Paris and in a handful of isolated places in the provinces, lulled to sleep by so many appalling things, from Tangerine Dream to President Giscard d’Estaing...
In 1975-76, French music was, as almost always, in a sorry state ; it was still dominated by Johnny Hallyday and Sylvie Vartan. Local rock music was also rather bleak, apart from Bijou and Little Bob who tried to revive this small scene with poorly sound-engineered gigs played to almost no one.
In the working class suburbs at the time, it was mainly hard rock music played to 11 that helped people forget about their gruelling shifts at the factory. Here and there, on the outskirts of major cities, you still could find a few rockers with sideburns wearing black armbands since the death of Gene Vincent, but it wasn’t a proper mass movement, just a source of real danger to anyone they came across who wasn't like them. In August 1976, a festival unlike any other took place in Mont-de-Marsan – the First European Punk Festival as the poster said – with almost as many people on stage as in the audience. Yet, on that day, a quasi historical event happened, when, under the blazing afternoon sun, a band of unknowns called The Damned made an unprecedented noise in the arena, reminiscent of the chaotic Stooges in their early adolescence. They were the first genuine punk band to perform in our country: from then on, anything was possible, almost anything seemed permissible.

It makes sense that the four+1 members of Guilty Razors, who initially amplified acoustic guitars with crappy tape recorder microphones, would adopt punk music (pronounced paink in French) naturally and instinctively, since it combines liberating noise with speed of execution and – crucially – a very healthy sense of rebellion (the protesters of May 1968 proclaimed, and it was even a slogan, that they weren’t against old people, but against what had made them grow old. In the mid-1970s, it seemed normal and obvious that old people should now ALSO be targeted!!!).
At the time, the desire to fight back, and break down authority and apathy, was either red or black, often taking the form of leafleting, tumultuous general assemblies in the schoolyard, and massive or shabby demonstrations, most of the time overflowing with an exciting vitality that sometimes turned into fights with the riot police. Indeed, soon after the end of the Vietnam War and following Pinochet’s coup in Chile, all over France, Trotskyist and anarcho-libertarian fervour was firmly entrenched among parts of the educated youth population, who were equally rebellious and troublemakers whenever they had the chance. It should also be noted that when the single "Anarchy in the UK" was first heard, even though not many of us had access to it, both the title and its explosive sound immediately resonated with some of those troublemakers crying out for ANARCHY!!! Meanwhile, the left-wing majority still equated punks with reckless young neo-Nazis. Of course, the widely circulated photos in the mainstream press of Siouxsie Sioux with her swastikas didn’t necessarily help to win over the theorists of the Great Revolution. It took Joe Strummer to introduce The Clash as an anti-racist, anti-fascist and anti-ignorance band for the rejection of old-school revolutionaries to fade a little.

The Lycée Jean-Baptiste Say at Porte d’Auteuil, despite being located in the very posh and very exclusive 16th arrondissement of Paris, didn’t escape these "committed" upheavals, which doubled as the perfect outlet for the less timid members of this generation.
“Back then, politics were fun,” says Tristam Nada, who studied there and went on to become Guilty Razors’ frontman. “Jean-Baptiste was the leftist high-school in the neighbourhood. When the far right guys from the GUD came down there, the Communist League guys from elsewhere helped us fight them off.”
Anything that could challenge authority was fair game and of course, strikes for just about any reason would lead to increasingly frequent truancy (with a definitive farewell to education that would soon follow). Tristam Nada spent his 10th and 11th unfinished grades with José Perez, who had come from Spain, where his father, a janitor, had been sentenced to death by Franco. “José steered my tastes towards solid acts such as The Who. Like most teenagers, I had previously absorbed just about everything that came my way, from Yes to Led Zeppelin to Genesis. I was exploring… And then one day, he told me that he and his brother Carlos wanted to start a rock band.” The Perez brothers already played guitar. “Of course, they were Spanish!”, jokes their singer. “Then, somewhat reluctantly, José took up the bass and we were soon joined by Jano – who called himself Jano Homicid – who took up the rhythm guitar.” Several drummers would later join this core of not easily intimidated young guys who didn’t let adversity get the better of them.

The first rehearsals of the newly named Guilty Razors took place in the bedroom of a Perez aunt. There, the three rookies tried to cover a few standards, songs that often were an integral part of their lives. During a first, short gig, in front of a bewildered audience of tough old-school rockers, they launched into a clunky version of the Velvet Underground's “Heroin”. Challenge or recklessness? A bit of both, probably… And then, step by step, their limited repertoire expanded as they decided to write their own songs, sung in a not always very accurate or academic English, but who cared about proper grammar or the right vocabulary, since what truly mattered was to make the words sound as good as possible while playing very, very fast music? And spitting out those words in a language that left no doubt as to what it conveyed mattered as well.
Trying their hand a the kind of rock music disliked by most of the neighbourhood, making noise, being fiercely provocative: they still belonged to a tiny clique who, at this very moment, had chosen to impose this difference. And there were very few places in France or elsewhere, where one could witness the first stirrings of something that wasn’t a trend yet, let alone a movement.

In the provinces, in late 1976 or early 1977, there couldn’t be more than thirty record stores that were a bit more discerning than average, where you could hear this new kind of short-haired rock music called “punk”. The old clientele, who previously had no problem coming in to buy the latest McCartney or Aerosmith LP, now felt a little less comfortable there…
In Paris, these enlightened places were quite rare and often located nex to what would become the Forum des Halles, a big shopping mall. Between three aging sex workers, a couple of second-hand clothes shops, sellers of hippie paraphernalia and small fashion designers, the good word was loudly spread in two pioneering places – propagators of what was still only a new underground movement. Historically, the first one was the Open Market, a kind of poorly, but tastefully stocked cave. Speakers blasted out the sound of sixties garage bands from the Nuggets compilation (a crucial reference for José Perez) or the badly dressed English kids of Eddie and the Hot Rods. This black-painted den was opened a few years earlier by Marc Zermati, a character who wasn’t always in a sunny disposition, but always quite radical in his (good) choices and his opinions. He founded the independent label Skydog and was one of the promoters of the Mont-de-Marsan punk festivals. Not far from there was Harry Cover, another store more in tune with the new New York scene, which was amply covered in the house fanzine, Rock News (even though it was in it that the photos of the Sex Pistols were first published in France).
It was a favorite hang-out of the Perez brothers and Tristam Nada, as the latter explained. “It’s at Harry Cover’s that we first heard the Pistols and Clash’s 45s, and after that, we decided to start writing our first songs. If they could do it, so could we!”
The sonic shocks that were “Anarchy in the UK”, “White Riot” or the Buzzcocks’s EP, “Spiral Scratch” – which Guilty Razors' sound is reminiscent of – were soon to be amplified by an unparalleled visual shock. In April 1977, right after the release of their first LP, The Clash performed at the Palais des Glaces in Paris, during a punk night organised by Marc Zermati. For many who were there, it was the gig of a lifetime…
Of course, Guilty Razors and Tristam were in the audience: “That concert was fabulous… We Parisian punks were almost all dressed in black and white, with white shirts, skinny leather ties, bikers jackets or light jackets, etc. The Clash, on the other hand, wore colourful clothes. Well, the next day, at the Gibus, you’d spot everyone who had been at this concert, but they weren’t wearing anything black, they were all wearing colours.”

It makes sense to mention the Gibus club, as Guilty Razors often played there (sometimes in front of a hostile audience). It was also the only place in Paris that regularly scheduled new Parisian or Anglo-Saxon acts, such as Generation X, Siouxsie and the Banshees, the Slits, and Johnny Thunders who would become a kind of messed-up mascot for the venue. A little later, in 1978, the Rose Bonbon – formerly the Nashville – also attracted nightly owls in search of electric thrills… In 1977, the iconic but not necessarily excellent Asphalt Jungle often played at the Gibus, sometimes sharing the bill with Metal Urbain, the only band whose aura would later transcend the French borders (“I saw them as the French Sex Pistols,” said Geoff Travis, head of their British label Rough Trade). Already established in this small scene, Metal Urbain helped the young and restless Guilty Razors who had just arrived. Guitarist for Metal Urbain Hermann Schwartz remembers it: “They were younger than us, we were a bit like their mentors even if it’s too strong a word… At least they were credible. We thought they were good, and they had good songs which reminded of the Buzzcocks that I liked a lot. But at some point, they started hanging out with the Hells Angels. That’s when we stopped following them.”

The break-up was mutual, since, Guilty Razors, for their part, were shocked when they saw a fringe element of the audience at Metal Urbain concerts who repeatedly shouted “Sieg Heil” and gave Nazi salutes. These provocations, even still minor (the bulk of the skinhead crowd would later make their presence felt during concerts), weren’t really to the liking of the Perez brothers, whose anti-fascist convictions were firmly rooted. Some things are non-negotiable.
A few months earlier (in July 1978), Guilty Razors had nevertheless opened very successfully for Metal Urbain at the Bus Palladium, a more traditonally old-school rock night-club. But, as was sometimes the case back then, the night turned into a mass brawl when suburban rockers came to “beat up punks”.

Back then, Parisian nights weren’t always sweet and serene.

So, after opening as best as they could for The Jam (their sound having been ruined by the PA system), our local heroes were – once again – met outside by a horde of greasers out to get them. “Thankfully,” says Tristam, “we were with our roadies, motorless bikers who acted as a protective barrier. We were chased in the neighbouring streets and the whole thing ended in front of a bar, with the owner coming out with a rifle…”
Although Tristam and the Perez brothers narrowly escaped various, potentially bloody, incidents, they weren’t completely innocent of wrongdoing either. They still find amusing their mugging of two strangers in the street for example (“We were broke and we simply wanted to buy tickets for the Heartbreakers concert that night,” says Tristam). It so happened that their victims were two key figures in the rock business at the time: radio presenter Alain Manneval and music publisher Philippe Constantin. They filed a complaint and sought monetary compensation, but somehow the band’s manager, the skilful but very controversial Alexis, managed to get the complaint withdrawn and Guilty Razors ended up signing with Constantin with a substantial advance.

They also signed with Polydor and the label released in 1978 their only three-track 45, featuring “I Don't Wanna be A Rich”, “Hurts and Noises” and “Provocate” (songs that exuded perpetual rebellion and an unquenchable desire for “class” confrontation). It was a very good record, but due to a lack of promotion (radio stations didn’t play French artists singing in English), it didn’t sell very well. Only 800 copies were allegedly sold and the rest of the stock was pulped… Initially, the three tracks were to be included on a LP that never came to be, since they were dropped by Polydor (“Let’s say we sometimes caused a ruckus in their offices!” laughs Tristam.) In order to perfect the long-awaited LP, the band recorded demos of other tracks. There was a cover of Pink Floyd's “Lucifer Sam” from the Syd Barrett era – proof of an enduring love for the sixties’ greats –, “Wake Up” a hangover tale and “Bad Heart” about the Baader-Meinhof gang, whose actions had a profound impact on the era and on a generation seeking extreme dissent... On the album you’re now discovering, you can also hear five previously unreleased tracks recorded a bit later during an extended and freezing stay in Madrid, in a makeshift studio with the invaluable help of a drummer also acting as sound engineer. He was both an enthusiastic old hippie and a proper whizz at sound engineering. Here too, certain influences from the fifties and sixties (Link Wray, the Troggs) are more than obvious in the band’s music.

Shortly after a final stormy and rather barbaric (on the audience’s side) “Punk night” at the Olympia in June 1978, Tristam left the band ; his bandmates continued without him for a short while.

But like most pioneering punk bands of the era, Guilty Razors eventually split up for good after three years (besides once in Spain, they’d only played in Paris). The reason for ceasing business activities were more or less the same for everyone: there were no venues outside one’s small circuit to play this kind of rock music, which was still frightening, unknown, or of little interest to most people. The chances of recording an LP were virtually null, since major labels were only signing unoriginal but reassuring sub-Téléphone clones, and the smaller ones were only interested in progressive rock or French chanson for youth clubs. And what about self-production? No one in our small safety-pinned world had thought about it yet. There wasn’t enough money to embark on that sort of venture anyway.

So yes, the early days of punk in France were truly No Future!

John Andrews has spent the past few years tucked away in Red Hook, Brooklyn - a neighborhood that sits just beyond the natural drift of the city. Once shaped by maritime industry and later a haven for artists in search of vast warehouse space, its history and isolation give it a quiet magnetism. Streetsweeper, the fifth album by John Andrews & The Yawns, reflects that vantage point-tranquil, self-contained, and curious about the movements most people overlook.
Just a few cobblestone blocks from the freight-ship-lined harbor, Andrews wrote dozens of new songs at his electric piano. Nine of them found their way to Los Angeles to be recorded with Luke Temple, who played guitar and some bass. Drummer Noah Bond and bassist Kevin Louis Lareau, both longtime members of The Yawns and Cut Worms, form the rhythm section. Will Henriksen of Florry played fiddle on “Something To Be Said,” while Emily Moales of Star Moles sang harmonies recorded remotely by Kevin Basko at Historic New Jersey.
Red Hook may not be the easiest neighborhood to reach, but that distance gives it a singular glow-one Andrews sneaks into every note of Streetsweeper. The Super 8 video for “Something To Be Said,” shot by Hilla Eden, wanders through its streets like a hazy love letter. The album offers a similar invitation: step off the main road, linger a little, and notice the small, overlooked moments that make a place-and a life-rich. Andrews has swept those margins with care, leaving songs that listen, observe, and stay with you.

John Andrews has spent the past few years tucked away in Red Hook, Brooklyn - a neighborhood that sits just beyond the natural drift of the city. Once shaped by maritime industry and later a haven for artists in search of vast warehouse space, its history and isolation give it a quiet magnetism. Streetsweeper, the fifth album by John Andrews & The Yawns, reflects that vantage point-tranquil, self-contained, and curious about the movements most people overlook.
Just a few cobblestone blocks from the freight-ship-lined harbor, Andrews wrote dozens of new songs at his electric piano. Nine of them found their way to Los Angeles to be recorded with Luke Temple, who played guitar and some bass. Drummer Noah Bond and bassist Kevin Louis Lareau, both longtime members of The Yawns and Cut Worms, form the rhythm section. Will Henriksen of Florry played fiddle on “Something To Be Said,” while Emily Moales of Star Moles sang harmonies recorded remotely by Kevin Basko at Historic New Jersey.
Red Hook may not be the easiest neighborhood to reach, but that distance gives it a singular glow-one Andrews sneaks into every note of Streetsweeper. The Super 8 video for “Something To Be Said,” shot by Hilla Eden, wanders through its streets like a hazy love letter. The album offers a similar invitation: step off the main road, linger a little, and notice the small, overlooked moments that make a place-and a life-rich. Andrews has swept those margins with care, leaving songs that listen, observe, and stay with you.

Released in 2002, Games and Hell marked an early chapter in Toxic Twin’s output, capturing the raw, hardware-driven sound of Berlin’s early 2000s electronic underground.

Minimal, direct, and rooted in a time when the scene was still forming.

Nearly 25 years later, Games is reissued and expanded to six tracks, including previously unreleased material from the same era, via Relic.

Schreit es laut heraus: Wir sind der Underground! Die Arbeiterklasse hat genug, sie geht auf die Straße, startet die Revolution, tanzt und kämpft manchmal zum Beat der Songs von RIOT CITY RADIO. Sind das Klischees? Natürlich. Aber Punkrock & Oi! jeder Art basieren seit jeher auf Klischees. Genau wie jede andere Subkultur auch. Das ist also nichts Schlechtes. Im Gegenteil, es macht Spaß. Vor allem mit RIOT CITY RADIO, denn ihre Songs sind sofort eingängige Hymnen mit perfekt ausgewogenem Songwriting zwischen kraftvollen Refrains, großartigen Mitsing-Passagen und einer rohen, gewaltigen Note, die süchtig macht! Eine Ode an Subkultur, Underdogs und die Solidarität, in Distanzierung zu einem Großteil der kranken Gesellschaft und all ihren unnötigen Exzessen. Und RCR meinen jede einzelne Zeile ihrer Songs ernst und haben viel zu sagen! Mit ihrem zweiten Album ,Spitting Teeth" startet die Band aus Plymouth, UK, mit einer charismatischen Street-Punk- und Oi!-Explosion durch! Musik mit Können, harter Schlagkraft und einer knallharten Street-Attitüde. 11 neue Songs, darunter die Singles ,We re still singing" und ,Underground". Auf limitiertem schwarzem und limitiertem mehrfarbigem Vinyl!

Schreit es laut heraus: Wir sind der Underground! Die Arbeiterklasse hat genug, sie geht auf die Straße, startet die Revolution, tanzt und kämpft manchmal zum Beat der Songs von RIOT CITY RADIO. Sind das Klischees? Natürlich. Aber Punkrock & Oi! jeder Art basieren seit jeher auf Klischees. Genau wie jede andere Subkultur auch. Das ist also nichts Schlechtes. Im Gegenteil, es macht Spaß. Vor allem mit RIOT CITY RADIO, denn ihre Songs sind sofort eingängige Hymnen mit perfekt ausgewogenem Songwriting zwischen kraftvollen Refrains, großartigen Mitsing-Passagen und einer rohen, gewaltigen Note, die süchtig macht! Eine Ode an Subkultur, Underdogs und die Solidarität, in Distanzierung zu einem Großteil der kranken Gesellschaft und all ihren unnötigen Exzessen. Und RCR meinen jede einzelne Zeile ihrer Songs ernst und haben viel zu sagen! Mit ihrem zweiten Album ,Spitting Teeth" startet die Band aus Plymouth, UK, mit einer charismatischen Street-Punk- und Oi!-Explosion durch! Musik mit Können, harter Schlagkraft und einer knallharten Street-Attitüde. 11 neue Songs, darunter die Singles ,We re still singing" und ,Underground". Auf limitiertem schwarzem und limitiertem mehrfarbigem Vinyl!

This is the second studio album by American soul singer-songwriter and producer Bill Withers, released in 1972. The rhythmic music produced for the record features soul, funk, and blues sounds, backing lyrics that explore themes of human nature, emotion,

This is the second studio album by American soul singer-songwriter and producer Bill Withers, released in 1972. The rhythmic music produced for the record features soul, funk, and blues sounds, backing lyrics that explore themes of human nature, emotion,

Will Wood's very first LP displays a variety of genres, with a chaotic homemade anti-folk feel and an experimental edge. "Everything is a Lot" began its long production in 2014, when the singer-songwriter was still 20 years old and performing drunken alt-comedy at open mics. With no funding, Wood led a slapdash band into the studio to bring songs mainly from his teenage years to life, and the unstructured production process and youthful experimentation gave it a uniquely loose and chaotic feel. The debut LP's sound is defined by Wood's Jay Hawkins-esque vocal delivery, an out-of-tune old upright piano, wailing wind instruments, jangly guitar, high-powered yet loose drums, and sardonic overdriven kazoo solos. Delivering everything from swing jazz and twee indie pop to pseudo-mariachi and waltz, these sounds and their accompanying bizarre lyrics come together to match the existential title, "Everything is a Lot." Will Wood's early career can be primarily defined by his experimental vocal delivery, honky-tonk piano smashing, and darkly edgy songwriting. While his stylings have matured and taken on a more precise approach, his refusal to conform to expectations and constant shifts in the genre have continued to be hallmarks of his songwriting and production. In his "Will Wood and the Tapeworms" releases (Everything Is A Lot in 2015, SELF-iSH in 2016), audiences can see the first glimpses into what would eventually become his signature style, presented in a uniquely raw and chaotic state of potential.

Undun is the story of a man, Redford Stevens, dying in reverse, rewinding from the moment he became a statistic and hitting the points in his life where he's at his most self-aware. That he's a criminal who got caught up in the familiar street-hustle trappings that the modern media's documented countless times is a pivotal detail-- it's hit at an angle that seems to emphasize the futile inevitability of it all. His life could be any number of misdirected narratives that ends with a toe tag, and what details listeners learn about him are hazy, buried under archetypal turns of fate and decisive struggles. That this protagonist is a fictionalized composite of a handful of real people, filtered through a matter-of-fact narrative that splits character ambivalence with journalistic impartiality, only makes his lack of direction and the failure of any real closure stand out even more. "Lotta niggas go to prison," Dice Raw states on "Tip the Scale", "how many come out Malcolm X?"

So the Roots' latest album isn't a sprawling, rise-and-fall crime story, not a condemnation or a veneration of a man living outside the law, not a bullet-riddled grand guignol heavy on explicit details of soldiers getting cut down. It's a character study of a man whose existential crisis ends only with his death-- a death gone largely unspecified, the glamor and tragedy washed over with a doomed resignation. That's a hard thing to pull off, even for a band as given to deep-thinking concepts as the Roots are. And when your main lyrical catalyst is Black Thought-- a man more given to allusions than direct statements-- it's likely that it'll take a while for the full scope of Undun to really sink in.

If and when it does, it might strike listeners as a bit skeletal: omit the mood-setting instrumental bookends, including a brief, four-part orchestral suite that builds off Sufjan Stevens' "Redford (For Yia-Yia and Pappou)", and you've got maybe a half hour's worth of material. By ?uestlove's accounts, writing Redford's story introduced the headaches and challenges that come with scriptwriting into their songwriting, and what's left on Undun is the end result of frequent revisions and rewrites that attempt to reconcile character, theme, and continuity. If it comes at the expense of nuance, it's not always obvious: There's an easy-to-trace narrative line from Redford's acceptance of his fate ("Sleep") to his acknowledgement of how close it's approaching ("Make My"), back through declarations of aggravated toughness ("One Time"), and celebratory fatalism ("Kool On"), along ups and downs that juxtapose motivation ("Stomp") and helplessness ("Lighthouse"). When the vocal portion of the album ends with two of the bleakest sets of verses in the Roots discography, peaking with the estrangement of "I Remember" and the desperation of "Tip the Scale", Undun reveals itself as a story where a man's actual death isn't quite as tragic as the circumstances that pushed him to it.

Danny Scott Lane is a New York-based musician, photographer and sound artist whose work drifts between jazz, ambient, and gentle funk. Originally an actor and singer before turning to photography, Lane brings a cinematic and emotional sensibility to his recordings - music that feels intimate, tactile, and quietly surreal. He has scored films and commercials, and his eclectic taste has taken him to DJ booths around the world.

Since his first tape release in 2019, Lane has released nine albums, five of them with WRWTFWW Records, each expanding his distinct blend of warmth, rhythm, and daydream. His tenth LP, House of Alice, welcomes back three-time collaborator David Lackner and introduces Michael Gagliardi, further deepening the reflective world Lane continues to build.

The album's title is derived from the Alice Austen House. Danny took an interest in the prolific 'street' photography of Alice where she often captured everyday life and intimate depictions of women's lives beautifully. Inspiring images that reflect in his own photography as well. We will continue to stand on the shoulders of giants.

Expect a gentle mix of electronic new age jazz and soft funk.

Danny Scott Lane is a New York-based musician, photographer and sound artist whose work drifts between jazz, ambient, and gentle funk. Originally an actor and singer before turning to photography, Lane brings a cinematic and emotional sensibility to his recordings - music that feels intimate, tactile, and quietly surreal. He has scored films and commercials, and his eclectic taste has taken him to DJ booths around the world.

Since his first tape release in 2019, Lane has released nine albums, five of them with WRWTFWW Records, each expanding his distinct blend of warmth, rhythm, and daydream. His tenth LP, House of Alice, welcomes back three-time collaborator David Lackner and introduces Michael Gagliardi, further deepening the reflective world Lane continues to build.

The album's title is derived from the Alice Austen House. Danny took an interest in the prolific 'street' photography of Alice where she often captured everyday life and intimate depictions of women's lives beautifully. Inspiring images that reflect in his own photography as well. We will continue to stand on the shoulders of giants.

Expect a gentle mix of electronic new age jazz and soft funk.