Поиск:subtle mind

Black Truffle is pleased to welcome free jazz legend Joe McPhee back to the fold with Oblique Strategies, a wild trio recorded in Antwerp in 2018 in the company of Mette Rasmussen’s fire-breathing alto saxophone and Dennis Tyfus’s post-Fluxus antics on tape, voice, and percussion. Rasmussen and Tyfus have previously recorded together as Bazuinschal, and some similar strategies are on display here: mysterious metallic scrapes, extended tones in which voice and sax become indistinguishable, comic explosions of varispeed tape. With McPhee on board, however, proceedings are more sumptuous, with the two horns moving fluidly from expeditions into the extremes of their instruments’ registers to pointillistic note-splatter and Ayler-esque folk melodies; we even get to bask in some of the slow-motion free blues that McPhee has now been playing for half a century. McPhee is heard primarily on tenor, Rasmussen mainly on alto, but with Rasmussen doubling on sundry objects, and the whole trio contributing vocals, certainty about who is doing what becomes nigh impossible.

The recording and production add to this hazy unclarity. Where much contemporary improvised music aims at dryly clinical hi-fi, the lively reverberant space of Oblique Strategies calls to mind the less-than-pristine sonics of classic free jazz artefacts like John Tchicai’s Afrodisiaca or McPhee’s own Underground Railroad. A further dimension of oblique unpredictability is added by subtle changes in the sense of space: at times merely a reverb tail glimpsed between phrases, at other points the whole mix seems to be momentarily swallowed up in slap-back, blurring the lines between acoustic instruments and the decayed fidelity of Tyfus’ tape playback. Spread across four pieces ranging from four to nineteen minutes in length, Oblique Strategies moves with anarchic swagger from explosions of clattering cymbals and bellowing horns to near-silent episodes of mysterious rumble and clunk. ‘Death or Dinner?’ opens the record with a lovely duet of climbing melodic patterns shared between the two saxophones, played with a buzzing oboe-like tone. A long, wavering note sung by Tyfus cues the first of countless changes of direction, eventually leading to a crescendo of watery splutters and duelling saxes. At points Tyfus’ keening resemble the signature moves of his friend and collaborator, Ghédelia Tazartès; at others, his tape-sped huffs and puffs possess a rawness reminiscent of Henri Chopin or Gil Wolman. The dialogue between wailing saxophones and vocal cries, punctuated by percussive thuds and crashes, can at times feel less like a musical performance and more like the calls of some mysterious forest creatures, possessing a primordial energy that might remind some listeners of the outdoor antics of Brötzmann and Bennink’s Schwarzwaldfahrt.

Oblique Strategies can also be delicate at times, as on the beautiful third piece, ‘Destilled Edible’, dominated by a slow, microtonal melody played with a breathy tone resembling a shakuhachi. The closing side-long ‘Light My Fire’ ranges across classic improv call and response, skittering trumpet blurts, inept cymbal clatter, mock-operatic vocals, and crude tape manoeuvres. Momentarily pausing at the ten-minute mark for an interlude of ghostly room sound and crackling texture, its closing moments unfurl a glorious dual saxophone finale, the almost epic tone subtly undermined by Tyfus quietly tapping out swing rhythms. Arriving in a striking sleeve adorned with Tyfus’ drawings, Oblique Strategies is an invigoratingly free-spirited blast of improvisation.
Downloads

Bob Dylan was at several crossroads in the mid-1970s. Artistically, he was largely written off as being past his prime. Emotionally, he was suffering through a painful divorce from his then-wife Sara Lowndes. Creatively, he appeared at a stalemate, his previous decade's unprecedented run of transformational brilliance finished. Then came Blood on the Tracks.

A start-to-finish cycle that documents a lover's pursuit of, entanglement with, and loss of a woman, the bracingly intimate 1975 effort remains one of the most encompassing break-up albums ever made and ranks as the most personal statement of the Bard's career. To hear it is to experience the agony, frustration, trauma, highs, lows, confusion, sadness, and, ultimately, requisite redemption associated with intimate relationships gone astray. Dylan maintains it's a work of fiction, but it's evident close-vested autobiographical premise is what helps make it universal: It's the icon singing through tears, going out of his mind, battling hallowing emptiness, firing shots across the bow, and accepting culpability. It is, in short, a consummate expression of love's darker sides and the consequences of what happens when dreams unravel.

As part of its Bob Dylan catalogue restoration series, Mobile Fidelity is thoroughly humbled to have the privilege of mastering the iconic LP from the original master tapes and pressing it on dead-quiet LP at RTI. The end result is the very finest, most transparent analogue edition of Blood on the Tracks ever produced – and the first-ever proper analog reissue. Fantastically presenting both the solo acoustic and band-supported songs with the utmost clarity, dynamics, presence, immediacy, spaciousness, imaging, and balance, this version shines a high-powered light on the fluid vocal phrasing, timbral shifts, functional rhythms, and inward-looking strumming that contribute to every song here serving as a wound-exposing confessional.

For all the melancholic pain, unresolved questions, shattered memories, wasted times, unrequited dialogues, and weary regret within, Blood on the Tracks remains as daring as it is reflective. Rather than follow for a monotone caustic vibe, Dylan's songs burrow into the subconscious for the manners in which they are even-keeled, mellow, and occasionally, even peaceful. Dignity, honour, poignancy, and fairness – all traits uncommon in any situation in which partners dissolve histories, change hearts, and attribute blame – instil the record with equilibrium on par with the consistency of the flowing melodies.

Throughout, tunes come on and proceed as if they could continue forever, Dylan spinning poetic verses and conversations amidst finely tied knots of acoustic notes, chords, and fills, the deceivingly simple architecture conjuring the intertwined refractions of a bezeled jewel, various angles, colours, and textures conjoining into a gorgeously inseparable whole. Backed by Tony Brown's flexible albeit subtle bass, Buddy Cage's country-streaked pedal-steel guitar, and Paul Griffin's soul-baring organ – an instrument used to shadow, tuck-point, and illuminate here as effectively as any time in rock history – Dylan pours soulful emotion, open his veins, and bleeds.

Ranked 16 on Rolling Stone's list of the 500 Greatest Albums of All Time, and replete with existential thought, piercing directness, raw singing, and majestic arrangements,

Given the sonic and artistic merit of this album, we anticipate huge demand.

Yetsuby lands on London label Third Place with her 'Water Flash' EP this July.

Seoul-based artist Yetsuby is best known as one half of electronic super-duo Salamanda, who have won hearts and minds with their light and floaty new-age electronica via releases on Good Morning Tapes, Human Pitch, and Métron Records. As a solo act, she has released her own music on the Taipei-based 禁 JIN as well as through the Seoul store The Internatiiional amongst self-released delights on her Bandcamp.

Turning to Will Hofbauer's playful Third Place imprint for her latest 12', Yetsuby delivers four bubbly tracks. On the A-side, the title cut 'Water Flash' leads with airy synths and textured percussion, while 'Electro Union' ups the energy with choppy vocal samples, punchy drums, and twinkling arps. On the flip, subtle synths wriggle alongside low-key percussion on 'Commercial Noisy Day', making for a heads-down affair, before the gorgeous finalé '물먹는하마' rounds out the B-side with delicate keys and detailed yet muted drums.

Alabama native Drayton Farley has as honest a voice as you're likely to hear in this burgeoning scene of country, folk, roots, and Americana music we're all wrapped up in. With songs and lyrics pulled from real life experience, there's a grounded feeling to his stories, a confessional quality that rings true to those who know. His voice fills the room like cigarette smoke, curling into every corner of you, with a fine grit rasp that smooths out every rough edge. It lingers hours, days, after you've left the bar - turns of phrase that tumble around your mind, bittersweet and familiar. He sings as deeply about the love he holds as the love he's lost and there's something so broken-in and comfortable about that Southern inflection that every song feels like coming home. Sharing stages with musicians on the rise such as Zach Bryan, Arlo McKinley and Mike and the Moonpies, Drayton has quickly gained a loyal fan base. Twenty on High, Drayton's first release with Thirty Tigers, was produced by Sadler Vaden (Morgan Wade) and recorded with Chad Gamble, Jimbo Hart, Sadler Vaden, Peter Levin, Kristin Weber and Katie Crutchfield at Nashville's Sound Emporium Studios. “Lyrics that are immediately reminiscent of the humor and subtlety of John Prine, the directness and honesty of Bob Dylan, and the everyman gravity of Pete Seeger, Farley firmly establishes himself as one of the great American voices in folk and Americana music.” - Americana Highways

GER Als Night Beats erschafft der in Texas geborene und in LA lebende Künstler Danny Lee Blackwell Musik, wie man ein Puzzle zusammensetzen könnte. Der psychedelische Autorenfilmer aus dem Westen baut sein Werk aus einem Moment, einer Initialzündung, auf, die bestimmte Kriterien erfüllen muss: Sie muss ihm Gänsehaut bereiten. Wenn dieses Gefühl eintritt, verfolgt Blackwell die Idee unermüdlich, bis er einen neuen Song hat; wenn nicht, geht er zum nächsten Moment über, immer auf der Suche nach dem perfekten Molekül eines Songs. Auf seinem sechsten Night Beats-Album "Rajan" zeigt sich der Songwriter von seiner besten Seite und erschafft Werke, die mit fesselnden Melodien und hypnotischen Rhythmen glänzen, aber auch durch subtile handwerkliche Entscheidungen unterstrichen werden, die nur nach unzähligen Stunden im Studio erreicht werden können. Blackwell erschafft ein Werk, das irgendwo zwischen Spaghetti-Western-Filmmusik und Psych-Pop-Opus angesiedelt ist, ein karrierebestimmendes Album, das viel über Danny Lee Blackwells künstlerische Philosophie verrät und gleichzeitig den so wichtigen Hauch des Geheimnisvollen bewahrt. Exklusiv für den Indie-Handel, todesrote LP, handnummeriert mit Poster und DLC.


ENG As Night Beats, Texas-born, LA-based artist Danny Lee Blackwell creates music like one might assemble a puzzle. The Western psychedelic auteur builds his work from one moment, an initial spark, that must fit a certain criteria: it must give him goosebumps. If that sensation arrives, Blackwell will pursue the idea relentlessly until he has a new song; if not, he moves onto the next moment, constantly looking for the perfect molecule of a song. On his sixth Night Beats album, 'Rajan', the songwriter is at his strongest, creating works that shine with captivating melodies and hypnotic rhythms, but are underscored by subtle choices of craftsmanship that can only be achieved after countless hours in the studio. Blackwell creates a work that lands somewhere between Spaghetti Western film score and psych-pop opus, a career-defining album that reveals much about Danny Lee Blackwell's artistic philosophy while keeping that ever crucial air of mystery intact. Indies only LP on 180g 'Dying Red Giant' coloured vinyl, limited to 350 hand-numbered copies, fold-out art poster, download card included.

The follow up to the band’s celebrated 2020 release Fish Pond Fish and Darlingside’s fourth LP marks a subtle but remarkable departure for the Boston-based quartet NPR once described as “exquisitely arranged, literary minded, baroque folk- pop.” While the album retains much of the lushness and sophistication of Extralife (2018) and Fish Pond Fish, the band’s latest work highlights the individuality of the four songwriters in a way that adds a fitting element of reinvention to an album that captures brilliantly the quality of the moment in which it was made. Grappling with change both personal and universal, with quandaries domestic and existential, Everything Is Alive is an album about loss and the struggle for a semblance of redemption; themes of grief, distance and hope permeate an album filled with vivid imagery and lyrical creativity. Comprised of Don Mitchell, Auyon Mukharji, Harris Paseltiner and David Senft, four likeminded multi-instrumentalists who first met at Williams College in 2009, Darlingside’s career has been defined by the elegance of their compositions and the remarkable unity of their four voices. Their talent for harmony and melodic world-building is part of what garnered praise from outlets like NPR, Rolling Stone and The New Yorker, and what has created demand worldwide for their extraordinary live performances. Becoming beautifully unindividualized has, in other words, worked very well for Darlingside in the past. With a vigor and discipline more common to graduate-level writing workshops than to indie rock, Darlingside have, over the years, experimented with all manners of idiosyncratic methods for elevating and upholding a truly democratic process of songwriting—processes that include multiple rounds of group writing and recording exercises—all with the aim of escaping the trap that bands with multiple songwriters often fall into: the ruse of ego-driven infighting and artistic incoherence. Everything Is Alive is Darlingside taking a risk. Nudged by the limitations created by pandemic isolation, as well as through other more voluntary catalysts, the album, which was produced and recorded by the band and mixed by Tucker Martine (My Morning Jacket, Sufjan Stevens, Iron and Wine), foregrounds in a sustained and heretofore untried way the individual voices of each member.

Malmo-based producer Sacred Grove takes care of the second release of French label Parodia.

Taking his name from an important feature of mythological landscapes, Sacred grove music is like a hole in our dimension, a moment of levitation where everything stops for a minute.
« Through the Mire » is a fantastic 4 track EP of untouchable, fascinating sounds of dance music, taking influences in early deep house and twisting it in a very unique way.

Enter the trip with the EP opener « Dusk » , a mysterious track full of hazy pads and stabs blending together to make you enter into an imaginary forest. Subtle and classy, « Dawn » is the second track of the record, 9 minutes of introspective sounds yet dancable, with an unstoppable groove. If you're not already tripping, your mind is a about to hallucinate with the third track Neusea (Delay mix), the most impactful track of the record, with a laidback peak time roller keeping the same cinematic atmosphere as the other tracks.

Last but not least, B2 track « Loverz » is like reaching the Sacred Grove that you were looking for when you entered this forest, and finally your mind is going in a total trance.

Cyphon is proud to bring you brand new music from one of Europe’s pioneers of techno and IDM, Stefan Robbers aka Terrace and Florence. His early releases for Djax-Up-Beats and his own Eevo Lute Muzique in the early 90’s were hugely influential striking a sweet spot between stark minimalism, majestic analogue lushness and dance floor grooves. In more recent years his own reinterpretation of the Detroit sound can be found on the highly regarded Dutch label Delsin.

Here on his ‘Thermionic EP’ Terrace sings out with such intensity that minds are blown. Listen to the brutal, exhilarating sequences of ‘Territorial’ which leads the new EP, and you will receive that message loud and clear. While the music is as much about the consequence of soulful depth, it is also about edgy machines communicating intimately. Sweet chords fuse and then contrast with grainy acidic sonics, leaving the tempo poised at an irresistible pace like all our futures depended on it.

As you move next onto the more subtle electro pulse of ‘Thermon’, shimmering keys dance around a frame-by-frame remembrance of robotic disco in the 23rd century. The uplifting brilliance of ‘Woodward’ follows filling the void with an explosion of colour that is all about life-affirming instrumentation, hitting you fast and loose with a cascade of arpeggios, tough drums plus an incendiary surge of melodic distraction causing the airwaves to crackle with celebration.

Completing this stunning release from Terrace are the fierce, hotwired grooves forged by ‘Ritual’, conjuring up endless combinations of an analogue model rediscovered. The sheer dancefloor animation found within each of Terrace’s productions on this EP purposefully point to and enhance Cyphon Recordings own mission to explore, propelling the emphasis forever forwards.

DJ Support:

Sean Johnston, Kevin Reynolds, Vince Watson, Gareth Sommerville, Daniele Baldelli, Dj Rocca, Massimiliano Pagliara, Craig Smith, Jason Kendig, Rarish & Yoshi Horino

Malian and French duo Siraba drop the second single from their debut album on Secret Teachings, ‘Kômo Fôlly’, backed by a rare remix from electronic music icon St Germain.

A new alias from Malian hunter Boubacar Samake and Damien Vandesande, one half of French electronic band dOP, Siraba is a unique and expansive project set to merge ancestral music passed down by Malian hunters with electronic-leaning spheres with nods towards the future. Recently debuting on the label with their debut single ‘Ngana Fôlly’, the first single from their forthcoming album set to arrive in September this year, the pairing return to Damian Lazarus’ alternative imprint Secret Teachings for their follow-up single, ‘Kômo Fôlly’ - once again unveiling a tapestry of traditional and modern soundscapes as they deliver a tribute to Boubacar’s father, Sibiri Samake.

With Boubacar returning to the Ngoni and uncovering further lyrics and words in Bamabra, ‘Kômo Fôlly’ builds from traditional Malian tones into an expansive trip through shimmering synths and crisp, organic percussion. It’s a spellbinding and captivating trip into the minds of typically contrasting worlds while uniting the two effortlessly to provide and produce a slice of electronic excellence. A true pioneer of the electronic realm, Ludovic Navarre, known to many under his legendary St Germain alias, is an artist who needs little introduction, having been responsible for some of house and techno’s most iconic productions across a 30-year career on labels such as F Communications and Blue Note. Turning his hand to the track and providing an extremely rare remix, the renowned talent brings his typically vibrant sound palette to the fore as he harnesses the original’s vocals and weaves excellently worked drums, subtle snaking grooves and resonant chords effortlessly for typically classy interpretation while rubber-stamping the fascinating and exciting project in the process.

First Ever Vinyl Reissue (released in collaboration with the Numero Group)

180g BLACK vinyl limited to 500 copies (w/obi strip). Non-Returnable.

Little is known about the mythical band ‘Heart-Soul & Inspiration’ and their band leader, L.A. drummer and producer Vince Howard…The crooning Howard got his start in 1957 on Herb Newman’s Era label where he released a bunch of excellent Doo Wop, Funk & Soul singles. Over the ensuing decade Howard slowly began piecing together his “Orchestra” consisting of bassist Jimmy Soul, guitarist Ron Carr, and pianist John True.

Howard’s Heart-Soul & Inspiration Orchestra cut their self-titled (and only) album in 1974 for John Spriggs’ Los Angeles-based Viscojon concern under the watchful eye of R&B godfather Johnny Otis.

The result was the birth of an astonishing piece of art filled with playful sexy moans, climaxing grooves and soulful hooks. One of the many highlights on the album (and clocking in at an epic eleven minutes), Vince Howard’s “I’m Gonna Love You More” is a tantric reimagining of Barry White’s 1973 sexually charged classic. Where White was content delivering a subtle and syrupy innuendo, Howard transformed the break-heavy track into a meandering funk workout.

Sadly, after their Barry White/Isaac Hayes facsimile LP failed to gain traction, the group released their final recordings—“Funk on Down” b/w “Fallen Angel”—for Viscojon in 1975 which became a hit among prominent DJ’s in the nightclub circuit. This ushered in the end for Howard’s Heart-Soul & Inspiration project.

Heart-Soul & Inspiration was a true example of a bright light burning out way too quickly. Thankfully we are left with the unique (and very rare) document that is their self-titled album. Almost impossible to get ahold of…a well-deserved reissue has been long overdue. This is an album that deserves a prominent place in every serious Funk & Soul enthusiast’s record collection!

Lost soul phenomenon Lewis Taylor's Numb finally arrives on double vinyl! One of UK soul’s most fascinating artists, most enigmatic figures and most under-appreciated talents, Andrew Lewis Taylor is a prodigious multi-instrumentalist and eclectic polymath. He enjoys a fiercely loyal following which, over the years, has included celebrity champions like Bowie, Elton and D'Angelo. Numb is Taylor's sixth album, initially released on his own label Slow Reality (an anagram of his name) and licensed to Be With for this long-awaited physical edition. It captures Taylor's wholly unique, intoxicating take on lush, late-night psychedelic soul music.

Lewis wrote and recorded these 10 brand new tracks after a 17 year break from making music, although the album came together over a two-year period. The years away have done nothing to dull Taylor's unique musical vision. He still astounds. The lyrical themes, however, have shifted. Understandably, more than a decade and a half of soul searching and unflinching self-examination cannot fail to influence this most honest of songwriters, and boy does it show. Numb marks a return to the darker, more mysterious side of his output: "Brian Wilson-channels-Smokey Robinson atmospheres", as Mojo put it recently.

After playing a rapturously received gig at the Bowery Ballroom in NYC in 2006, Lewis unceremoniously walked away from music and disappeared completely. An interview in 2016 shed light on some of the reasons for Taylor’s withdrawal from the business, but there was no hint of a return anytime soon. Then in June 2021, news emerged out of the blue that he was readying new music alongside Sabina Smyth with whom he had worked first time around.

On Numb, Lewis deftly balances stark, soul-bearing lyrics with moody mid-tempo pop-soul sheen. He deals candidly with depression, mental turmoil, even thoughts of suicide - clearly more personal than Taylor's earlier songs. The music is rich, warm and layered, with infectious melodies and hooks that stick with you. A true grower of an LP, it really does reward repeated listens. As Jim Irvin in Mojo reflected, "despite the depths these plumb, it's a curiously uplifting experience, unfurling like a concept album about life's challenges with an optimistic beauty at its heart."

Triumphant dubwise horns ring out yet, almost instantly, “Final Hour” takes on a dark, downbeat vibe. With lyrics that confront (and, seemingly, confound) death head-on, Lewis ensures the groove is still there, the beats still swing and your head still nods, strings glissade. Woven around delicate yet insistent piano and subtle strings over a killer bassline, the title track “Numb” is a good example of the lyrical themes throughout the album. As Taylor reflects, "So removed I feel no pain / And for all I know I could be having the time of my life" with a coda that feels very much in conversation with Brian Wilson's finest harmonies. "Feels So Good" is sophisticated 90s-sounding soul of the highest order. The music and vocals feel simultaneously optimistic and despondent. Downlifting. A neat trick, and one Lewis has been so adept at over the years. "Apathy" is a mini-epic, a symphonic-soul gem which builds and glides and, eventually, soars. “Worried Mind" is another slow-builder, creeping out the gate in a sketchy, discordant fashion before climbing to half-crescendo but never quite breaking free of its disorientating restraint.

The brighter "Please" presents a more hopeful mood, with the refrain "I still believe" ringing out as Lewis harmonises with himself. "Brave Heart" quietly struts from step one, as Lewis's falsetto swaggers over a downtempo backdrop with ace echoey drums, beautiful strings and serene electric guitar. Closing out Side C, "Is It Cool" answers its own (non-) question with a spellbinding five and a half minutes of swoonsome deep soul that oscillates between a restrained, barely-there backdrop and a lushly full musical accompaniment of acoustic and electric guitar and organ over bass and slick drums. The penultimate track "Nearer" is a magical, soul-stirring ballad in which Lewis sings of reaching a sweet salvation and achieving a peace of mind. If the hairs on the back of your neck aren't standing up by the midway point, you might need to check your pulse. Album closer and true tear-jerker "Being Broken" places Lewis's gorgeous voice high in the mix and the wordless falsetto and melodies invite you to ponder what Pet Sounds might sound like if it were refashioned as a dubby 21st Century electronic soul album. Astonishing.

Simon Francis’s vinyl mastering spreads out the ten tracks over a double LP so, as ever, nothing is compromised. And as usual, the records have been cut by Cicely Balston at Air Studios and pressed at Record Industry. Turn it up and let the Lewis Taylor sound envelop you.

Vladislav Delay presents the third EP in his "Hide Behind The Silence" series with five 10" releases coming throughout 2023. Intuitive and raw music, momentary and reflective, released on Ripatti's own label "Rajaton".

--

Stillness is a myth. Consider concepts such as ”still water”, or ”still air” for that matter. Go to a restaurant, ask them for a glass of still water, hold it against the light and see where we’re at. Even though the water itself has been captured and imprisoned in the glass, it never stops breathing. It’s filled with tiny particles, dancing. Everything can be explained on a molecular level, but since we’re not scientists – and even if you happen to be – it’s the natural world of perception that moves me.
Still air is very similar. A hot summer’s day with zero wind feels completely still. It’s the closest I have felt to complete stillness. Or for a more urban adaptation, imagine the same vibe inside a normal apartment. In those moments, revelations and mind- blowing experiences can be had with experiments in stillness.
Try this: Just sit down for a minute on a sunny day, making sure there’s enough natural light. Do absolutely nothing. Try not to breathe for a bit. (If you need a mental anchor, you can play Cage’s 4’33” in your head but nothing else.) Watch the tiny dots of dust dancing :..’ ̈.:; ́ ́*°.,’:,. ̈ ̈ ̈ ̈:,.’
The movement is crazy, but the feeling of stillness comes from witnessing how subtle it is. In (perceived) complete stillness, every act of microscopic mobility seems to speak volumes. Yet, it feels both reassuring and oddly threatening that the stillness is never complete. What if we would need absolute stillness? Or is it just enough that we can perceive something as such? Extremes attract, so for both water and air, extraordinary movement is equally fascinating. That is also a luxury item of sorts. For us to enjoy a very ”loud” body of water or air, we need to be safe, in enough control of the situation. So when you are, it’s worthwhile to pay attention and take it all in.
A rapid flowing free with extreme strength and just barely in control. Look at that water go! No still water on this one, only ”sparkling”. A windy day when birds seem surprised how hard it is to fly, but in the end they make it. Trees bend but don’t break. The wind shows you its movement but doesn’t hurt you. It feels friendly, like a big clumsy dog that doesn’t quite understand its size.
It’s beautiful to be a guest of the elements, but not at the mercy of them. A new kind of dialogue forms.

Jimmy LaValle’s The Album Leaf has spun from solo outlet to full band and back in its nearly 25 years. His acclaimed catalog spans releases for labels such as Sub Pop, City Slang, Relapse, and others. He also composes music for film and television, scoring over 20 projects (narrative features, documentaries, and TV series) since 2009. The cinematic sensibilities of The Album Leaf were present from the beginning. His 1999 debut introduced the start of a signature sound: melodic and meditative electro-organic soundscapes constructed with guitar, percussion, Rhodes, and field recordings.

His seventh full-length LP, and first since 2016, arrives in 2023 via Vancouver’s Nettwerk Records. FUTURE FALLING finds LaValle working with an array of musicians, shaping slightly darker, more spacious, and synth-driven songs with contributions from Bat For Lashes, Kimbra, and many others.
The music registers a shade darker and more synth-driven than most moments in his acclaimed catalog, a bridge between shadowy, cerebral terrain and dreamy precision pop, where softly percussive frameworks meet shimmering sound design and emotive instrumentation.
LaValle sees the construction of FUTURE FALLING as less conventional than past work. Contributions were done remotely with a “throw everything at it” mindset, making LaValle the arranger of layers from all over: drums, synths, horns, violins, voice, and more. LaValle created a pastiche of these layers and elements; in some cases even moving vocal takes to new tracks entirely. Without the in-the-room dynamics, he had more time to experiment, adding and subtracting ad infinitum.
The album opens on “PROLOGUE,” an evocative, slow-building instrumental that rides a pattern into a symphonic sea of static. Keys and horns glide atop the rhythmic pulse of “DUST COLLECTS,” setting the contemplative scene for “AFTERGLOW,” the record’s most pop-minded performance. Here Kimbra, the Grammy-winning New Zealand singer-songwriter, renders a striking recollection of past love as percussive elements shimmer and swirl.
A plaintive piano line moves throughout “Cycles 19.9” encircled by light ambient washes, both a valley between two peaks and a powerful composition in its own right. “Future Falling” follows; with origins tracing back to 2015, the track embodies the full sonic journey LaValle has taken. All the hallmarks of The Album Leaf — melodic builds, vivid sprawl, tonal shape-shifting — assemble to a blissful finish.

For the next stretch, “Cycles” begins with a uneasy Rhodes loop that builds and erupts into a wall of texture paving its way into “Give In,” where LaValle models a movement that begins subtle and measured before curving up with skyward, percussive bursts (“Stride”) and settling back down to the album’s back-half centerpiece, “Near” featuring the acclaimed English artist Natasha Khan aka Bat For Lashes. “Do you feel me near?” she sings into a mist of widescreen synths and soothing, distant drum beats as if searching through the dark.

Altered Circuits dives deeper in the world of playful and versatile club music with roots in the early 90's! There's an obvious parallel between Ildec's DJ performances and his own music.

Part of a scene with a focus on extended, broad-minded sets, the Ibiza-based artist lets his yearning to unearth and play obscure gems flood into his production process. The "Ahora Si EP" is testament to this adventurous spirit as it tackles a wide array of tempos, styles and moods.

Opener "El Principio" and closer "Grt Plschr" display Ildec's fondness of hazy, recondite atmospherics. With its sustained ambient chord, delay-washed newsreader samples and manipulated themes, the former sounds like a fever dream radio bulletin.

On the latter, a broody motif meanders alongside loosely played drums, while a buried bass guitar occasionally reveals itself. "El Break Del Dia" furtherly explores some of these elements, but this time with the dance floor front of mind.

Languidly morphing bass sequences and staccato synth salvos build up anticipation. When a slowly emerging, ceaselessly arpeggiating organ lead finally materialises, the track explodes. Natural flow is partly traded for sturdier form on the remainder of the EP. "El Break De La Noche" lets an ever-modulating lead groove alongside rigid, dry drum beats.

Descending tom fills, truncated squeaks and a top layer LFO gone haywire complete this sparse yet exciting cut. "La Nueva Version" has a similarly efficient bassline as its bedrock. An interplay of zaps, risers, transposed percussion, and other dusty cartridge samples pulls it left and right while subtle disorienting hints of speech thicken the mix.

On "Modificacion", Ildec moulds his take on progressive and tech house into its toughest shape. A druggy, bleepy lead twirls in and out of the track, carried by the road-tested combo of a taut drum pattern and a piercing backbeat bass. Ominous chords and equally menacing vocals mark its aim: to create tension in the club. It is a standout on a diverse, daring EP we are delighted to present as the fifth release on our label.

Murmer is the long-standing project for Estonian field recordist and composer Patrick McGinley, and in Tether, The Helen Scarsdale Agency welcomes Murmer back to our roster, over a decade since he graced us with his last production for the Agency. His field recordings often center upon the amplification and activation of resonance from a particular space, landscape, or object. Such sounds emerge from a condition as begin fleeting, inconsequential, or ephemeral and explode into that which alien, sublime, and profound. Here lies the tremendous prowess of the contact microphone, as wielded by an accomplished musician! The source material cited by McGinley includes cables, fences, wires, and vents.

There is a heft to many of these sounds as heard throughout all of "Taevast" with deep throbbing pulsations from arctic wind generating subharmonic patterns upon thick high-tension wires. Elsewhere the subtle dissonance from a rasping cooling fan blooms into a brooding ambience that is sublimely rich in its metallic timbres and complex reverberations. McGingley has long been an exemplary artist in the field of phonography even as he is less prolific than others. On Tether, he has produced a majestic if occasionally foreboding work on par with the mythic wire recordings of Alan Lamb, Jacob Kirkegaard's haunted resonance from Chernobyl, and much of the Touch catalogue for that matter!

Patrick McGingley on Tether:

In 2006, I made a collection of recordings at a mobile phone mast in Mooste, southeast Estonia. It is a guyed tower, 80 meters tall, affixed to 3 support points with heavy cables. I attached my self-made contact microphones to these cables with poster tack, and spent many hours over several weeks recording the various wind and weather variances (it was summer), and the birds that passed or settled on the tower or cables. This was one of my first visits to estonia, where i now live, and one of the things that marked me about that experience was the access: the tower had no fences or protections around it (I have not been back there recently to answer my own question of whether or not this is still the case); it stands in the middle of a field of tall grass along a dirt road in the countryside, just out of view of the few nearby houses, and during all the hours I spent there I was never disturbed or shooed away.

For more than 16 years, I have been thinking about this location and these recordings, and have made several attempts to work with them. I have used the sounds in installations a handful of times, and uploaded one short edit to the Aporee soundmaps, but have never managed to use them in any composed work. They always seemed too big for any structure I could provide them, whether I left them on their own, or partnered them with other sounds. Finally, in 2019, after putting them down and picking them up again repeatedly over so many years, they seemed to allow me in, although it took me another few years before they were happy with what I could offer. They stand now not quite alone - the majority of the layered sounds in the piece come from various edits of those cable recordings, but I added two other contrasting sounds, related to one another: one is snowflakes landing delicately on a plastic cakebox with microphones inside it, and the other is a frosted field of grass thawing on a lightly warming autumn morning (both these recordings can also be heard on their own on the Aporee maps).

Coming back to those cables brought to mind so many other wind-driven sounds that I had spent time with and recorded, but never returned to, that I began digging through my archives looking for them. I ended up with a pool of sounds from resonant wires, cables, fences, poles, fans, and vents, which became the basis for the 2nd work on this release. One of these sounds is among the first sounds I ever recorded, possibly within a month or so of buying my first microphone and minidisc recorder: the rhythmic fan of a beer cooler in a pub where I worked in North London in 1999. Other sounds in the piece include another phone tower, recorded on the northern coast of France in 2008, a telephone pole recorded in the Beaujolais region in 2010, the drone of ventilator fans at a factory in Tezno, Slovenia in 2012, an electric sheep fence in the Scottish borders in 2013, a hanging wire in a storage space in Rovaniemi, Finland in 2016, and, with no relation to cables or wind at all, calcium deposits being cleaned from the inside of an electric kettle here in Estonia in 2019.

I offer these two new pieces as my first solo publication since 2018, the first release on a physical medium since 2016. No one has ever accused me of working too fast, or being too prolific. I have a need, it seems, to leave a physical space of time around my work, before I can consider it 'finished'. Perhaps it is a simple need to forget how I did something, or that I did something; perhaps I have a need to be able to hear a work as a first-time listener would, before I can consider it ready for such an encounter. In some part of my mind I have to forget it before I can let it go. Well, I've just about forgotten that London beer cooler now, and that walk in the Beaujolais (with my father, who has since passed away), and that sheep fence next to our campsite in the borders, and that kettle that is now leaky. So I guess it's time.

Brooklyn-based Malik Hendricks does a fine line in raw, deep but visceral house sounds that cannot fail to make an impact both physically and emotionally. He has done so on the likes of Bliss Point, Coloring Lessons and Darker Than Wax before now and here arrives on People Of Earth with more compelling cuts. 'Move On Up' is a steamy and sweaty house thumper with impassioned vocal swirls, 'All Mine' layers in some heavenly melodies that manage to uplift the mood in a subtle fashion and 'Feeling Like Larry' references the great Mr Heard, surely, with its balmy cosmic pads and spiritual house depths. 'The Way' (feat Tane) is licked with acoustic guitar riffs that bring to mind open-air dancing by the Med.

Over the course of a 19-year career, Marshall Watson has released all manner of musical treats for a similarly wide array of labels, yet it’s the effortless beauty of his downtempo works – and particularly his ambient and Balearic excursions – that have often left a lasting impression.

It certainly caught the attention of NuNorthern Soul founder Phil Cooper, who brought the West Coast producer to the label in the summer of 2021. That EP, Sunsets on Larkin Parts 1 & 2, was undeniably special. The same can be said about his belated return to the label, Foothills, an EP packed to the rafters with slow-burn melodies, sustained chords, becalmed textures and gently unwinding grooves.

Watson’s distinctive take on Balearic naturally comes to the fore on EP opener ‘High Desert’, a soft-focus delight where languid electric guitars, starry electric piano lines, echoing chords and gently pulsing electronics stretch out across a shuffling groove. While tailor-made for watching the sun set off his beloved Pacific Coast – and over the Mediterranean Sea – ‘High Desert’ offers a dose of hazy sonic sunshine that can brighten up even the greyest of days.

Fittingly, the accompanying remix comes from long-time friends of the label Seahawks, whose textured, layered and atmospheric productions similarly blur boundaries between Balearic, ambient, pitched-down dancefloor grooves and glassy-eyed psychedelia. Employing opaque, shape-shifting pads, effects-laden guitars, subtle spoken word snippets and yearning, almost melancholic chords – all atop a crunchy, head-nodding beat and toasty bassline – the duo deliver a remix that’s as emotive and sonically stunning as Watson’s original mix.

The EP’s three other tracks amply demonstrate the subtle variety within Watson’s downtempo output. Vocalist Julie Childe makes her mark on ‘Sweet Sounds’, a brilliant blend of warming deep house and laidback Balearic nu-disco that sports subtle hints to his work as one half of synthwave duo Causeway, while ‘Open Sky’ brilliantly wraps undulating TB-303 acid lines and echoing Spanish guitars around a hypnotic, locked-in dancefloor groove.

Then there’s ‘The Landscape’, a deliciously saucer-eyed slab of breakbeat-powered, TB-303-sporting genius that evokes the immersive, early morning waviness of the ambient house era, the beach party psychedelia of San Francisco’s free party movement, and the bleeping wonder of turn-of-the-90s UK dance music. Like the rest of the EP, it’s an enveloping, head-soothing and mind-expanding treat.





e B2 High Desert Seahawks High Sky Remix

Mammal Hands announce spell-binding new album 'Gift from the Trees', their fifth studio album, pointing to subtle shifts and exciting new departures for the unique trio
"We're at a point now where playing and writing together can sometimes feel almost telepathic, that as individuals we can tune in to a collective resonance..."
Mammal Hands fifth album 'Gift from the Trees' offers a fresh perspective on the unique trio's singular music. The first to be recorded in a residential studio, the band enjoyed the opportunity to go late into the night searching for a deeper, more organic experience, closer to both their writing process but also their trance-like live performances. While some of the music was pre-composed and had even been performed live, the band also enjoyed the opportunity to improvise ideas in the studio. Drummer Jesse Barrett explains:
We wanted to have a more immersive experience that felt closer to our writing process. One thing that was really important to us was feeling free to jam out ideas as they came to us. We're at a point now where playing and writing together can sometimes feel almost telepathic, that as individuals we can tune in to a collective resonance and just follow that thread where it wants to go. Sometimes it's something as simple as a rhythmic, textural flow, like in Sleeping Bear.
There was also a conscious decision to move away from the sound and ambiance of the recording studio, with the band opting to engineer the record with their go-to live engineer Benjamin Capp before mixing the sessions with Greg Freeman in Berlin. The idea was to try and capture more of the energy of the band's captivating shows, saxophonist Jordan Smart explains:
Considering the group of tracks we had, it made sense to try and capture this process as organically and honestly as possible, and so a change in studio environment felt like the right move to us. Some of the tracks have a raw joy and energy that came with being able to play together again after a long period of time of having been apart, and capture that feeling of just being happy to be in a room with our instruments altogether again.
Whereas for pianist Nick Smart there was also the chance to really go deep into the band's music:
The new studio environment really opened us up to different ways of working and thinking because we could record at any hour of the day or night. I think this allowed us much more freedom to try unusual ideas and push elements of the music to extremes because we had the time to really focus in on the detail and work on things without time pressure. With some tracks, we were trying to find the boundaries of our playing ability and push beyond that point. With others, it was just getting into the right mindset and putting as much energy and emotion into the take as possible.'
The Welsh environment outside the studio doors seeped into the music presented on Gift from the Trees, with two recording sessions (one in winter and one in the spring) bringing different moods: one bleak and wintery, the other more hopeful and bright – an energy that permeates through tracks such as Kernel and Dimu.
Gift from the Trees opens with wonderfully elevating The Spinner which grew from one of Nick's piano parts and was developed and arranged into a complete tune without losing the feeling of constant flow and motion. It is almost like a dance, with the interaction of different melody parts and the doubling of certain parts melding together and fitting into the overall energetic flow, while Jesse's drums are both floating and deeply melodic. Riser aims to capture the band's raw energy and intriguingly is influenced by both breaks and modern drum production but also minimalist classical composition. Nightingale features the band at their most delicate and lyrical – a band favourite it draws heavily on modern folk with a beautifully realised melody that came unforced to pianist Nick Smart before being jammed out together. It was recorded early one morning, bringing an extra light and brightness to this beautiful performance.
Another album highlight is Dimu which utilises one of drummer Jesse Barret's favourite rhythmic devices from the Tabla repertoire and draws inspiration from Indian, Greek and Arabic music as well as modern folk arrangements. Dimu starts with saxophone over a bed of drones and percussion and moves through many different sections that frame and present the melodies in unique ways. The beguiling, intimate Deep within Mountains aims to place you in the room with the band as they play; it was recorded late at night to capture a dreamlike, liminal ambiance. The piano solo really reflects this mood and energy while the tenor is some of the softest and closest on the recording. Elsewhere, the remarkable Labyrinth started with what Nick describes as "some weird recording on my phone from a soundcheck, where Jordan was playing some crazy sounding bass clarinet part and I quickly recorded him", giving birth to a captivating, complex slice of propulsive 'almost' contemporary classical that like so much of the music on Gift from the Trees really couldn't be any other band than Mammal Hands.
Finally, the album draws to a close with the glorious Sleeping Bear, a tune that was wholly improvised in the studio. Nick and Jesse entered a simple but 'weird' locked groove and Jordan improvises melodies over the top. The track came about without any planning or thought; it was one of those special things that came by surprise and the band felt offered the perfect ending to their latest gift to us all: a deeply enthralling album that captures so much of what makes Mammal Hands a special band while mapping out new routes and paths for their beautiful, beguiling music.

2023 Clear Vinyl Repress! nthng finally follows up his four stunning EPs with a full album proper, arriving in a whopping 3xLP pack.Arriving a good 6 months after the LT029.5 album sampler which debuted both Soms and In My Dreams, nthng adds another seven hazy, hooded techno bangers to those to make up a pretty dazzling body of work.Opener 'Touches' is true ambient bliss, with shrouded, blissful synths fuzzing into view and cut through by a soft low distant sunlight. Both Galaxy and Eternal thump into view with a hi-paced drums colliding and clashing with syncopated stabs and smooth dusty baselines, recalling the tender techno-trance precipice danced by Dutch producers at the start of the 90's. The huge mysterious fan favourite and title track It Never Ends gets it's pride of place with 9 mins of deep, cavernous techno, all rippling with epic string-synths and washes of mountainous reverb.Even deeper numbers are extracted from the hard-drive, including the pensively, digitally-bubbling computer jam Unity sitting tidily alongside the super deep and subtle rolls of Abyss. Rounding the album out is the appropriately-titled Last. A dark, shimmering, almost emotionless number that cements a different idea of the future. A hard, pounding, yelping, depth-charged technoid closer. For us, the album feels like a real masterpiece, conjuring a spectrum of intimate and emotive moods, feelings and nostalgia-tinged memories that float into the mind, like the settling fog in the valley on a crisp winters morning.