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François and Sylvain Rabbath have turned six years of touring into a joint album that patiently and intensely distills a variety of musical flavors gathered from around the world.

Since the early 1960s, François Rabbath's double bass has resonated through enough landmark recordings to fill several shelves in a record collection. As an arranger, composer, and musician, his imprint on music goes far beyond his collaborations with Barbara, Paco Ibáñez, Charles Aznavour, or Édith Piaf. Aspiring double bassists owe him a groundbreaking method for learning the instrument. Born into a lush musical universe that quickly became his own, his son Sylvain first accompanied him on his travels before settling at the piano and sharing stages around the world at his side.

Those years of accumulating visas in their passports were put to good use by father and son. The continents, countries, and cities they passed through became a rich source of inspiration for composing Amall, the album by the Rabbath Electric Orchestra.

Long hours spent in the air or on the road, watching passing landscapes that never stayed the same, were transformed into compositions imbued with the atmospheres of the places they crossed or visited. Inspiration sometimes struck with force, like a green oasis appearing in a desert of stone—unexpectedly, as glowing red rocks suddenly dominated an otherwise open landscape with an endless horizon, while the mind wandered into a state between meditation and introspection.
Born from these travels, the pieces took on their final colors once brought into the studio, refined, and finally arranged to welcome the guitars of Keziah Jones and Matthieu Chedid, the piano of Laurent de Wilde, the bass of Victor Wooten, the saxophone of Raphaël Imbert, and the percussion of Minino Garay. Enhanced by the scale of the jazz-soul orchestrations, by the richness of arrangements bursting from strings, brass, rhythms, or keyboards, the epic breath of vast plains became ingrained. The urban tension of funk, echoing their movements, found its place—alongside more electric expressions or the ambience of a darkened room.
Melancholic and melodious, expressive and edgy, the bowed double bass—played in the high register where few dare to go—emerged as the musical guide. One that draws a path between Seville and Minneapolis, connects François Rabbath's native Syria to France, and bridges South America to Europe. It sets the tone to follow—the emotion that will carry the piece, and if not filled with light, will carry it there nonetheless.
Musical visions packed in luggage, transported in cargo holds, or imprinted in their minds just long enough to cover the distances to the next stop—father and son deepened their bond, beyond family and art. And their hands have never held each other more tightly.

François et Sylvain Rabbath ont fait fructifier six ans de tournées pour un album commun distillant patiemment et intensément la variété de parfums musicaux récoltés autour du monde.
Depuis le début des 60’s, la contrebasse de François Rabbath résonne dans assez de références pour combler plusieurs étagères d’une collection de disques. Arrangeur, compositeur, musicien, l'empreinte laissée dans la musique va bien au-delà de ses collaborations avec Barbara, Paco Ibanez, Charles Aznavour, ou Edith Piaf. C’est à lui que les
apprentis contrebassistes doivent une méthode novatrice pour apprendre l’instrument.

Né dans un univers musical luxuriant qui est vite devenu aussi le sien, c’est d’abord dans ses voyages que son fils Sylvain l’a accompagné, avant de s’installer au piano, et parcourir les scènes du monde à ses côtés. Ces années où les visas se sont entassés sur leurs passeports, père et fils les ont mises à profit. Continents, pays, et villes qui se sont succédés sont devenues un gisement pour composer Amall, l’album du Rabbath Electric Orchestra.

Les longs moments passés dans les airs ou sur la route à contempler un paysage qui défile sans pour autant rester le même, se sont convertis en compositions habitées par les ambiances de ces endroits traversés ou visités. Là où l’inspiration s’est imposée parfois brutalement, sous
la forme d’un oasis de verdure surgissant au milieu d’un désert de pierres. Au hasard d’imposantes roches rougeoyantes s’invitant dans un paysage jusqu’alors dégagé sur un horizon sans fin, quand l’esprit se laisse aller à un mélange de méditation et d'introspection.

Nés de ces pérégrinations, les titres ont pris leurs couleurs définitives une fois ramenés en studio, peaufinés puis, enfin, pensés pour y inviter les guitares de Keziah Jones et de Matthieu Chedid, le piano de Laurent de Wilde, la basse de Victor Wooten, le saxophone de Raphaël Imbert, les percussions de Minino Garay. Sublimé par la dimension des orchestrations jazz-soul, par la richesse des arrangements jaillissant des cordes, des cuivres, des rythmiques ou des claviers, le souffle épique des plaines immenses s’est imprimé.
La nervosité citadine du funk rythmant les déplacements a trouvé sa place, non loin d’une expression plus électrique ou d’une atmosphère de salle obscure.

Mélancolique et mélodieuse, expressive et nerveuse, la contrebasse jouée à l’archet, dans les notes hautes du manche où peu s’aventurent, s’est érigée en guide musical. Celui qui trace le chemin entre Séville et Minneapolis, relie la Syrie natale de François Rabbath à la France,
réduit la distance entre l’Amérique du Sud et l’Europe. Donne la note à suivre, l’émotion qui traversera le morceau qui, s’il n’est pas habité par la lumière, le portera néanmoins jusque là.

Visions musicales mises dans le coffre, transportées en soute ou imprimées dans l’esprit le temps de couvrir les distances qui les mèneront aux prochaines, c’est côte à côte que père et fils ont prolongé leur lien par delà des seules limites familiales et artistiques. Et leurs mains ne se sont jamais serrées aussi fort.
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Last summer, after living across the country from each other for several years, the four members of Anamanaguchi decided to try something new. Their label Polyvinyl had rescued the famed American Football house from potential destruction, so the band took the opportunity to move in and write together. Over the course of a month, Anamanaguchi – pioneers of hyper-melodic 8-bit rock, whose extraordinary ascent has led them to topping charts with virtual pop star Hatsune Miku and scoring Scott Pilgrim vs. the World: The Game and Netflix’s Scott Pilgrim Takes Off – flipped their typically meticulous digital process on its head. Anyway, the result, is the most personal record of their career. And it's a rock record for the ages.

Recorded straight to tape by Grammy-winning rock producer Dave Fridmann (The Flaming Lips, MGMT, Sleater-Kinney), Anyway united the members around live instruments and lyrics sung by everybody in the band. As Anamanaguchi has always been an instrumental band, the decision to sing suddenly confronted them with the question of what the band’s voice would ultimately be. They explore this newfound power in every song, making it their most emotionally resonant work yet.

Anyway captures a band creatively and personally energized by the experience of four best friends reviving their connection in a disconnected world. On “Rage (Kitchen Sink),” the band confront loneliness and boredom, two epidemics of the digital age that seem to be humanity’s only common bond. The power-pop ballad “Darcie” finds inspiration in small gestures from a local unsung hero, who brightens their lives and allows unforeseen amounts of fun to happen. Taut and dynamic, “Buckwild” is a rock sing-along that serves as the album’s genesis story: a band making an effort to do something new, while accepting the risks that may bring.

USA, Anamanaguchi’s critically-acclaimed second album and debut for Polyvinyl, anticipated a crucial cultural shift in moving from escapist, nostalgic fantasy to a more introspective exploration of digital identity. Described by Pitchfork as the band’s “most emotionally grounded record,” USA laid the foundation for the openness and honesty that defines Anyway. Where USA made sense of life online, their third album Anywayventures into the world outside the front door.

Way back when, Upgrade & Afterlife was the umpteenth release from the individual and collective forces of David Grubbs (known then for Bastro, The Red Krayola, Codeine, Squirrel Bait) and Jim O"Rourke (known for O"Rourke), whose further history has since numbered at least another umpteen or so essential listens. What is it though, wrapped up in delectable sonic amber here, that defines this Upgrade? To be sure, we hear these young men dashing through the joys of youth-their actual young youth-as well as a version captured in memory and relived with a performative touch. Time remembered as tones, with gravity gained via perceptions. The stuff of memory and sentiment as selective and potentially deceptive in their nature. Who needed "em? As part of its time-traveling function, Upgrade & Afterlife is a return to roots, but not always necessarily Gastr"s. They were more than happy to stand on branches up above other folks in order to see any next thing worth leaping for. In addition to the elder-statesman Conrad, Gastr del Sol drew upon a memorable spectrum of players for the sounds of Upgrade & Afterlife, including Anthony Burr, Steve Braack, Gene Coleman, Mats Gustafsson, Terri Kapsalis, John McEntire, Günter Müller, Jerry Ruthrauff, Ralf Wehowsky and Sue Wolf. When issued, this combination of players, parts and play - packaged in an impressively broad tip-on Stoughton gatefold sleeve emblazoned with Roman Signer"s instantly iconic "Wasserstiefel" image - became the fastest-moving Gastr del Sol record to date. A delightful result, to our way of thinking, of the band"s ability to push at the far boundaries of their music while consolidating upon pleasure points within sounds and songs. Gastr used these polarities to compulsively draw the listener intimately close with sudden injections of g-force and an uncanny interpolation of space.

I must admit to being a sucker for two-guitar bands. Ok, Hendrix pulled off a trio. But I don’t care what anybody says: The Yardbirds were a better band than anything that came out of them (Ok, maybe not Zep. But Cream?).

Maybe the reason I go back so far in my references is that, within the two-guitar band format, original new roles are difficult and rare. There’s the classic (socially problematic and often boring) “rhythm/lead” solution. There’s the JB’s or Nile Rodgers’ chicken pickin’ vs comping solution (which avoids chordal clashes by relegating one of the guitars to the role of single-note percussion instrument). There’s Ornette’s Prime Time division between Bern Nix’s rolled-off “jazz” tone and Charles Ellerbee’s trebly wah. Almost everything else is a variation on one of these.


In Ches Smith’s record Clone Row, each piece is built around a different concept for guitar interaction. The delightful and gifted weirdness of Mary Halvorson’s playing is counterpointed, contrasted, unisoned with, played off, juxtaposed (that is to say, enters every relationship possible) with Liberty Ellman’s equally amazing sound palette, chops, and imagination. This definitely ain’t your father’s guitar band.
The overall vibe of the record—despite Halvorson’s occasional noise outbursts or Ellman’s distorted guitar lines (see Mixed Fridge) is neither punk/funk, nor Zorn-ish metal—and certainly not the looser parameters of Ornette’s improvised harmolodics. Smith’s vibraphone playing, Halvorson’s guitar tone (whammy pedal squiggles aside), the brilliant electronics, and (most of all) the compositions themselves are somehow strangely West Coast cool. It’s as if I’m hearing a Jim Hall concert in which one of us did a lot of mushrooms, or (dare I write this?) some post-punk post-Dave Brubeck post-trip-hop experiment with classical form.

This recording is, most of all, about Ches as composer. He’s picked up a lot on his long, strange trip of the last few decades. The Haitian funkiness of his work with We All Break is audible—but deeply buried, encoded in the polyrhythms (check out Heart Breakthrough). His long-running side musician collaborations with John Zorn and Tim Berne are also evident but sublimated here into something new.

Not that improvising is absent. Check out the compelling collective statements in Sustained Nightmare and Ready Beat. Check out the brilliant interplay and bass soloing on Abrade With Me (a Weather Report for the age of extreme weather?) Nick Dunston is my favorite bassist of the new generation, and he plays brilliantly throughout. And Ches’ drumming here has all the groove, energy, and incredible range that have kept him in demand from Saturday night Vodou services to jazz and new music recording sessions (…the thinking man’s rock barbarian?).
The sus chords in Abrade With Me do build, for a moment, towards a fusion type of climax...but just at the moment I was gritting my teeth in anticipated defense against some horrible synth solo, the drums drop out, and we’re transported to the ambient lounge at the rave, and we suddenly understand we’re in the hands of a composer with the power to transport us just about anywhere.
So, this is a composer’s record most of all; a composer’s record performed by musicians who happen to be great improvisers. Ches Smith builds here on his reputation as a gifted new voice with an important vision, while showcasing some of the most creative musicians of our time.

Lion, The Lion is Definition's summary of a phase of life. It roars with an unmistakable sense of strength, woven into every resonating beat and drifting melody.
Through shimmering synth textures, driving basslines, and subtle vocal traces, it carries you across a spectrum of emotional states—from feverish, pulsing energy to meditative introspection. Each track feels like a small yet significant battle won, a testament to resilience in the face of challenges. Percussion elements build tension, then dissolve into moments of calm, highlighting the dynamic interplay of fragility and power. Beneath its surface lies a constant wave of determination, anchoring the album’s softer elements in a foundation of raw strength.
Twisting tempos and sudden shifts in atmosphere propel you forward, ensuring that no section remains complacent or still. There is both grit and grace here, fused together in a complete experience that summons courage from the very first note. As the journey unfolds, a quiet resolve emerges, a promise of hope amid challenging times. Ultimately, the record stands as a moving ode to perseverance, asserting that true might resides not in grand gestures, but in the steady, unwavering pulse that keeps us going.

Loyle Carner will release his highly anticipated sophomore record, 'Not Waving, But Drowning' on 19 April via AMF Records.

'Not Waving, But Drowning' follows Loyle's BRIT (Best Male, Best Newcomer) and Mercury Prize nominated, top 20 debut 'Yesterday's Gone'. The bedrock of honest and raw sentimentality that you heard on 'Yesterday's Gone' left an inextinguishable mark on music in general and UK Hip Hop in particular, standing out as an ageless, bulletproof debut.

'Not Waving, But Drowning', Loyle's new album, gives yet more evidence - as if it were needed - of his razor-sharp flow and his unique storytelling ability. Yes, he can rap, but he allies that with the sensitivity of a poet, the observational skills of a novelist, and warmth of your best friend. The album opens with 'Dear Jean', a letter to his mother in which he's telling her that he has found the love of his life, 'a woman from the skies', and he's moving out.

It goes without saying that Loyle's music is hard to categorise, but what is even more impressive is that for someone who grew up listening to Mos Def, Biggie Smalls, Roots Manuva, and Wu Tang Clan, he doesn't sound like any of them. Although he might from time to time give lyrical nods to them, he's no imitator.

Loyle loves cooking. There are two tracks on this album named after chefs. The British-Israeli chef Yotam Ottolenghi, and the now deceased Italian chef Antonio Carluccio. 'Ottolenghi' the first single from the album was featured on the BBC Radio 1 B-list, BBC 6 Music A-list and has already been streamed over 5 million times.

Loyle refers to real life for everything, the title of 'Yesterday's Gone' came from a song of his step father, the title of his new album 'Not Waving, But Drowning' comes from a poem by his grandfather, which in turn came from a Stevie Smith poem. What you hear on the track 'Krispy' is real. He is pouring his heart out to his best friend Rebel Kleff after their relationship went downhill, he invites him on the track to say his piece but he doesn't turn up, so we get a flugel solo instead.

Loyle also has his own personal black consciousness movement. When he refers to his 'fathers' in the track 'Looking Back' he really is referring to two fathers. His biological father, a black man who he knows, but knows very little of, and his step father, a poet and musician who happens to be a white man but died a sudden unexpected death from epilepsy (SUDEP). With no real emotional ties to his biological father, but a deep connection with a deceased step-father, where does a young child turn He succinctly captures many of the great, unspoken, cultural and historical paradoxes of multicultural Britain on 'Looking Back'.

An album like this is hard to find. It is for those who like their Hip Hop to have soul, and their soul to have spirit. This is because it works on so many levels, but it is reflecting the personality of its creator. There are a host of collaborators here, Jorja Smith, Rebel Kleff, Kiko Bun, Kwes, Jordan Rakei, Sampha, Tom Misch and more, but none are overpowering. They blend righteously into place.
Loyle is not bitter with people who have let him down, or a society that lets so many down, but the combination of anger and love he has gives his voice the perfect blend of strength and vulnerability. This might be a coming of age album, but it's also a coming of ageless album. Loyle's 2019 Spring tour - which includes London's Roundhouse - sold out within 20 minutes of being on sale.

Not Waving, But Drowning



A rapper that raps about family is hard to find. The boys in the 'hood' tend not to be that interested in how much a 'brother' loves his mother, or how much he misses his dad, or even how much he misses his best friend. The boys in the 'hood' tend to be obsessed with the size of their cars, girls, bank accounts, and other personal 'possessions'. Loyle Carner's Mercury and BRIT Prize nominated debut 'Yesterday's Gone' (Released 2017), made it clear that he wasn't that kind of rapper. In fact, every time I talk to him about his work we talk about the world, and we tended to confuse ourselves by calling his work rap, poems, or songs, sometimes in the same sentence. They are in truth all of these things.



Here's some poetry.



Honestly I need them.

I hate them but I grieve them

I think I've finally found the reason

Trust

Like the fire needs the air.

I won't burn unless you're there.





'Not Waving, But Drowning', Loyle's forthcoming new album, gives us yet more evidence, (if it were needed), that he still has what rappers call, flow, but he hasn't lost any of his story telling qualities. Yes, the boy can rap, but a rapper with the sensitivity of a true poet, the observational skills of a novelist, and warmth of your best friend. The album opens with 'Dear Jean', a letter to his mother in which he's telling her that he has found the love of his life, (a woman from the skies), and he's moving out. He really loves the woman from the skies, but he still loves his mum, and so he reassures her that there is no competition, and tells her that 'She's not behind me or behind you, but beside we and beside two', his words. Or to put it another way, moving out without moving out. My words.



It goes without saying that Loyle's music is hard to categorise, but what is even more impressive is that for someone who grew up listening to Mos Def, Biggie Smalls, Roots Manuva, and Wu Tang Clan, he doesn't sound like any of them. Although he might from time to time give lyrical nods to them, he's no imitator. He says finding his own voice was something he always found easy. Although young, (in terms of a musical career), he has confidence in his own words and his own voice, and has never been tempted to sound like he's been hanging out in the USA, or rolling in 'Grime' on the mean streets of East London. And so when it comes to the creative process he doesn't simply find a beat to jump on and ride. Beats are important, but they are tenderly layered with samples, keyboards, or live drums, all imaginatively assembled for the laying on of words. Some tracks start with the idea, some with poetry, and some with a verse from a singer or some other melodic inspiration, but there is no formula.



Here's some poetry.



Don't hold any memories of us

Rather hold you everyday until the memories are dust

Yo we only caught the train

Cos you know I hate the bus





A prolific reader, who has dyslexia is hard to find. Add ADHD (Attention deficit hyperactivity disorder) to that and life should become even more difficult. To deal with your difficulties you devise coping strategies, which can differ from person to person. Loyle loves cooking. There are two tracks on this album named after chefs. The British-Israeli chef Ottolenghi, and the now deceased Italian chef Antonio Carluccio. Loyle describes himself as 'weird' because he is happy to read a cookbook as if he was reading a novel or a book of poetry. He has opened a cookery school for young adults not just because he loves food and wants to make more of it, but because it is one of the few things that can focus the ADHD mind. And when it comes to his other love, football, his approach is the same. Focus. He wanted to be a striker he says, up front scoring goals, but found his best position was in midfield because he was able to focus, check options, and see passes ahead of time, providing passes for other players just when they needed them. He says, 'You don't grow out of ADHD, you grow into it.' Loyle is also working with Levi's® on their music project where he is mentoring young musicians over a six month period, culminating at Liverpool Sound City festival.



More poetry.



When the going is tough

I wait till it falls on deaf ears

Hearsay

Without the boundaries of love



He also said, 'Ask most people and they will say that they love their mothers, but most are not going to rap about her'. On his first album Loyle's mum Jean wrote about the 'scribble of a boy' that growing up would take things apart to see how they worked. On this album she speaks with pride about a man who has found his place in the world.



Yes, poetry.



I'm still looking for the answers

Trying to find the right questions

Still waiting for my fathers

But can't break them in to sections



This poetry is serious. Loyle has his own personal black consciousness movement. He told me that he always felt safe at home, and being the darkest one in the family never meant a thing, but then when he had to face the outside world he felt hostility. It shook him up. Now he had to start asking questions, but what were the questions. This is serious. When he refers to his 'fathers' in the verse above taken from the track 'Looking Back' he really is referring to two fathers. His biological father, a black man who he knows, but knows very little of, and his step father, a poet and musician who happens to be a white man but died a sudden unexpected death from epilepsy (SUDEP). So to whom would a young black (or mixed race) kid turn He succinctly captures many of the great, unspoken, cultural and historical paradoxes of multicultural Britain when he says, 'My great grandfather could of owned my other one.' We are a people descended from enslaved people on one hand, and enslavers on the other, something we are still struggling to come to terms with, and this can be apparent in one family. A big book could have told you that, but here we get it in one line on the track, Looking Back.





Loyle refers to real life for everything. The album is peppered with captured moments that he records on his phone. These moments can range from conversations with taxi drivers, to capturing the moment when England scores a goal in the world cup. The title of 'Yesterday's Gone' came from a song of his step father, the title of his new album 'Not Waving but Drowning' comes from a poem by his grandfather, which in turn came from a Stevie Smith poem. What you hear on the track 'Krispy' is real. He is pouring his heart out to his best friend after their relationship went downhill, he invites him on the track to say his piece but he doesn't turn up, so we get a flugel solo instead. Yes people, this is real.



An album like this is hard to find. It is for those who like their Hip Hop to have soul, and their soul to have spirit, this is an album for those who have, (I'm sorry, I'm going to say it), emotional intelligence. This is because it works on so many levels, but it is reflecting the personality of its creator. There are a host of collaborators here, Jorja Smith, Rebel Kleff, Kiko Bun, Jordan Rakei, Sampha, Tom Misch and more, but none are overpowering. They blend righteously into place. Loyle is not bitter with people who have let him down, or the society that has let him down, but the combination of anger and love he has gives his voice the perfect blend of strength and vulnerability. This might be a coming of age album, but it's also a coming of ageless album. His first album worked, and this second album is a continuation of that work. Not creating a form, but being formless, as someone like Bruce Lee once said.

And here's some poetry from mum.



We talked long in to the darkest hours

Until we saw the burnished sky

And our eyes stung

As our words blurred and became thoughts

As we were silenced by the dawn

We clung to each other like sailors in a storm

This rare 12" outing from Rocafort Records features the rapping and production talents of Andy Cooper (Ugly Duckling/The Allergies). Taken from the forthcoming album 'The Layered Effect', both tracks throw you around the hip hop boxing ring, slapping you hard with the prerequisites needed for microphone supremacy. Lyrically tough and musically nimble, Andy swings at you somewhere between the artful dodger and a heavyweight pugilist.

The irresistably bouyant 'Here Comes Another One' opens by means of an elegant old jazz trumpet whose player states "rhythm is my business". Get the picture It's a choppy, jazztastic journey. Cleverly underpinned by a gorgeous jazz piano, horns, sharp beats and aural treats, suddenly mashed up by a reggae toasting session on speed courtesy of Blabbermouf.

'The Perfect Definition' has a heavier step and a more serious punch. Fresh and funky attitude meets a deeply earnest reverence towards microphone art, a theme echoed throughout the LP and cherisheddearly by Cooper.

Two tracks that certainly roll with the punches.Out in November. A sure tonic to the winter blues.

Big'n was, is and always shall be a legacy noise rock band from Chicago (est. 1990) comprised of vocalist William Akins, guitarist Todd Johnson, bassist Fred Popolo, and drummer Brian Wnukowski. After releasing a stellar debut album (1994), followed by their sophomore and signature effort Discipline Through Sound on Skingraft Records (1996) and a split single with Shellac, the band became inactive for some years. In 2018,Big'n recorded and releaseda new EP, Knife of Sin,via Computer Students. In 2022, they released DTS 25, an expansion of their pioneering second album. Both were recorded by the late, great Steve Albini. Big'n is back once again with a ruthless new album, End Comes Too Soon - their first in 28 years - released via Computer Student. It"sall still here as presentand disciplined as ever - BrianE's powerful, reliably precise drumming with melodic phrasing that shapes the songs, Fred's metallic superstructure of a bass that builds the defined framework of the music, Todd's clangorous guitar that has more harmonic content than a lot of his noisier peers, and William Akins' yarling vocals, the most recognizably human thing about the band, that convey layers of tension and intent, all the emotional content of a hellbound therapy session. Tragically, on May 7, 2024, Steve Albini suddenly passed away of a heart attack. Naturally, Big'n were shocked and devastated. End Comes Too Soons' title comes from a lyric, and is unrelated to Albini; still, the album became a roundabout love letter to the man, his studio, and his legacy. Like its predecessors, the album is structured by snippets of musical interludes or Transmissions - and there are six here, under the common code "XMSN."

BigʼN was, is and always shall be a legacy noise rock band from Chicago (est. 1990) comprised of vocalist William Akins, guitarist Todd Johnson, bassist Fred Popolo, and drummer Brian Wnukowski. After releasing a stellar debut album (1994), followed by their sophomore and signature effort Discipline Through Sound on Skingraft Records (1996) and a split single with Shellac, the band became inactive for some years. In 2018, BigʼN recorded and released a new EP, Knife of Sin, via Computer Students™. In 2022, they released DTS 25, an expansion of their pioneering second album. Both were recorded by the late, great Steve Albini. BigʼN is back once again with a ruthless new album, End Comes Too Soon — their first in 28 years — released via Computer Student. It's all still here as present and disciplined as ever — Brianʼs powerful, reliably precise drumming with melodic phrasing that shapes the songs, Fredʼs metallic superstructure of a bass that builds the defined framework of the music, Toddʼs clangorous guitar that has more harmonic content than a lot of his noisier peers, and William Akinsʼ yarling vocals, the most recognizably human thing about the band, that convey layers of tension and intent, all the emotional content of a hellbound therapy session. Tragically, on May 7, 2024, Steve Albini suddenly passed away of a heart attack. Naturally, BigʼN were shocked and devastated. End Comes Too Soonʼs title comes from a lyric, and is unrelated to Albini; still, the album became a roundabout love letter to the man, his studio, and his legacy. Like its predecessors, the album is structured by snippets of musical interludes or Transmissions — and there are six here, under the common code "XMSN."

BigʼN was, is and always shall be a legacy noise rock band from Chicago (est. 1990) comprised of vocalist William Akins, guitarist Todd Johnson, bassist Fred Popolo, and drummer Brian Wnukowski. After releasing a stellar debut album (1994), followed by their sophomore and signature effort Discipline Through Sound on Skingraft Records (1996) and a split single with Shellac, the band became inactive for some years. In 2018, BigʼN recorded and released a new EP, Knife of Sin, via Computer Students™. In 2022, they released DTS 25, an expansion of their pioneering second album. Both were recorded by the late, great Steve Albini. BigʼN is back once again with a ruthless new album, End Comes Too Soon — their first in 28 years — released via Computer Student. It's all still here as present and disciplined as ever — Brianʼs powerful, reliably precise drumming with melodic phrasing that shapes the songs, Fredʼs metallic superstructure of a bass that builds the defined framework of the music, Toddʼs clangorous guitar that has more harmonic content than a lot of his noisier peers, and William Akinsʼ yarling vocals, the most recognizably human thing about the band, that convey layers of tension and intent, all the emotional content of a hellbound therapy session. Tragically, on May 7, 2024, Steve Albini suddenly passed away of a heart attack. Naturally, BigʼN were shocked and devastated. End Comes Too Soonʼs title comes from a lyric, and is unrelated to Albini; still, the album became a roundabout love letter to the man, his studio, and his legacy. Like its predecessors, the album is structured by snippets of musical interludes or Transmissions — and there are six here, under the common code "XMSN."

Okokon returns to Other People with his sophomore album, 'Offering', delving deeper into the lush and cinematic soundscapes he first explored on his debut album, 'Turkson Side'. While primarily working in visual arts, Africanus Okokon, who records under his surname, bridges his artistic practices in 'Offering', using his masterful collage techniques to create his most personal work yet. Defying easy
categorization, the album melds influences from dream pop, avant-garde folk, psychedelia, trip hop, and dub, with traces of field recordings seamlessly blended throughout to form a cohesive whole.
'Offering' sees Okokon confronting and negotiating a sudden and unexplained death that occurred in his childhood and the complex emotions left in its aftermath, acting as his main inspiration when
making the album. This ambiguity is something that permeates throughout, with Okokon wanting to explore the ambivalence and sometimes uneasiness of contradicting emotions appearing
simultaneously, alluded to in the album title. This is also reflected in how the album tracks each inhabit different narrators with varying perspectives on the same events. The result being a hauntingly
beautiful album, with recurring themes of death, growth, sacrifice and spirituality ever present.

This October Jamiroquai celebrates the 30th anniversary of ‘The Return Of The Space Cowboy’. Their second album, it will be reissued as a double-LP set on 140g “moon grey” vinyl and includes Michael Gray’s Good Vibe Zone edit of ‘Space Cowboy’ - which has never been released on a physical product. The packaging has also been re-designed for this anniversary release including foil enhancement of the original cover design.

‘The Return Of The Space Cowboy’ is the follow up album to the band’s huge 1993 debut, ‘Emergency On Planet Earth’. Selling over 3 million copies globally, ‘Emergency On Planet Earth’ put the band on the map with their distinctive sound standing them apart from other popular acts of the time.

‘The Return Of The Space Cowboy’ was released just one year later and was met with great critical and public acclaim. Certified Platinum in the UK, Japan and France, it achieved chart success in multiple countries and spawned the single ‘Space Cowboy’ which remains one of their biggest tracks to date. Critically the album was lauded with Rolling Stone saying "Jamiroquai parlay jazzy soul pop so tight it crackles… Nowadays, when most funk comes out of cans, Jamiroquai's live spark glows", The Guardian said “... this second album sounds like vintage Stevie Wonder and Johnny 'Guitar' Watson, but Kay's vocals are as snappy and engaging as his extrovert persona" and Q magazine said it “combines intricate arrangements with several long, free-form workouts crammed with virtuoso performances".

For many, this album is defined by some of the most complex songwriting the band have ever produced and Jay Kay called it “one of our most creative and accomplished albums”. The process of making the album came with many challenges. Having to recruit a new drummer (after Nick Van Gelder failed to return from holiday), the band were met with second-album syndrome with Kay proclaiming since that lyrics weren’t coming "... because suddenly I wasn't homeless, I had everything I needed. So I found myself creating problems to write about." The songwriting process was complex for the band as Jay Kay was often dissatisfied with the results, leading songs to be scrapped or rewritten, but half-way through recording Kay wrote ‘Space Cowboy’, a song which reflects darker times during the recording session, and it became the catalyst of creative inspiration helping them finish the record. On this 30th anniversary edition of the album Space Cowboy gets a modern dance makeover courtesy of DJ Michael Gray, shedding new light on the track and emphasising it’s already infectious groove.

The album built on the success of ‘Emergency On Planet Earth’ and Jamiroquai have become one of the UK’s most pioneering and ground breaking bands of the past 30 years. Pushing boundaries and bringing jazz and funk to a mainstream audience, their sound is not only unique, but immediately recognisable.

Dan Snaith's latest album, "Honey," marks an intriguing new phase for Caribou. Over more than two decades Dan Snaith has had many guises. After putting every ounce of himself into Our Love and Suddenly, for his sixth Caribou album Snaith now pulls himself away a little in search of music that isn’t about any one person and is available to everybody. Huge dancefloor tracks twinkle, shimmer and surprise in a way only Snaith’s productions can but with a freshness that defines an artist who is too excited by music- making to ever truly settle into any one sound.

Dan Snaith's latest album, "Honey," marks an intriguing new phase for Caribou. Over more than two decades Dan Snaith has had many guises. After putting every ounce of himself into Our Love and Suddenly, for his sixth Caribou album Snaith now pulls himself away a little in search of music that isn’t about any one person and is available to everybody. Huge dancefloor tracks twinkle, shimmer and surprise in a way only Snaith’s productions can but with a freshness that defines an artist who is too excited by music- making to ever truly settle into any one sound.

Als sich RAM 1999 in Göteborg gründeten, führten sie bald die neue skandinavische Metal-Szenean (zusammen mit Bands wie Portrait und In Solitude). Oscar Carlquist (Gesang), Daniel Johannson (Gitarren), Harry Granroth (Gitarren), Leif Larsson (Bass) und Morgan Petterson (Schlagzeug) wurden oft mit einer jüngeren, kraftvolleren Version von Judas Priest verglichen und debütierten 2003 mit ihrem Sechs-Track-Mini-Album "Sudden Impact", das ursprünglich auf CD über Black Path Metal veröffentlicht wurde. High Roller Records ist stolz darauf, eine Vinyl-Wiederveröffentlichung von "Sudden Impact" anzukündigen, die den Titeltrack, "Judgement And Punishment", "Machine Invaders", "Blessed To Be Cursed", "Infuriator" und "Black Path" enthält. Obwohl es nicht so raffiniert ist wie spätere Alben wie "Forced Entry" (2005), "Lightbringer" (2008), "Death" (2012) oder ihr neuestes Werk "The Throne Within", das 2019 über Metal Blade Records veröffentlicht wurde, sorgte "Sudden Impact" definitiv für Aufsehen, als es 2003 erschien, zu einer Zeit, als der traditionelle Heavy Metal noch von der alten Garde des Genres dominiert wurde. Die unbändige Energie und der jugendliche Überschwang der Darbietung machten RAM fast sofort zu einer Kraft, mit der man rechnen musste, und zeigten, worum es im Heavy Metal schon immer ging: Stolz, Leidenschaft und Kraft.

RAM wurden in der Vergangenheit oft als "prototypischer schwedischer Metal" bezeichnet, und Sänger Oscar Carlquist widerspricht dem nicht: "Ich würde sagen, dass es bis zu einem gewissen Grad einen einzigartigen skandinavischen Metal-Stil gibt, und schwedische Musiker sind oft sehr talentiert. Sie hatten auch, zumindest in den Achtzigern, einige neoklassische Einflüsse (wahrscheinlich von Yngwie Malmsteen). Schwedische Sängerinnen und Sänger haben auch oft sehr klare Stimmen. Ich kann den schwedischen Sound erkennen, wenn ich den Gesang höre. "Sudden Impact" ist schon seit einiger Zeit nicht mehr erhältlich (2013 gab es eine limitierte Vinyl-Wiederveröffentlichung zum zehnjährigen Jubiläum), so dass die aktuelle Wiederveröffentlichung einer breiteren Öffentlichkeit eine neue Chance bietet, die Wurzeln einer der wichtigsten traditionellen Heavy-Metal-Bands der letzten 20 Jahre zu studieren.

Als sich RAM 1999 in Göteborg gründeten, führten sie bald die neue skandinavische Metal-Szenean (zusammen mit Bands wie Portrait und In Solitude). Oscar Carlquist (Gesang), Daniel Johannson (Gitarren), Harry Granroth (Gitarren), Leif Larsson (Bass) und Morgan Petterson (Schlagzeug) wurden oft mit einer jüngeren, kraftvolleren Version von Judas Priest verglichen und debütierten 2003 mit ihrem Sechs-Track-Mini-Album "Sudden Impact", das ursprünglich auf CD über Black Path Metal veröffentlicht wurde. High Roller Records ist stolz darauf, eine Vinyl-Wiederveröffentlichung von "Sudden Impact" anzukündigen, die den Titeltrack, "Judgement And Punishment", "Machine Invaders", "Blessed To Be Cursed", "Infuriator" und "Black Path" enthält. Obwohl es nicht so raffiniert ist wie spätere Alben wie "Forced Entry" (2005), "Lightbringer" (2008), "Death" (2012) oder ihr neuestes Werk "The Throne Within", das 2019 über Metal Blade Records veröffentlicht wurde, sorgte "Sudden Impact" definitiv für Aufsehen, als es 2003 erschien, zu einer Zeit, als der traditionelle Heavy Metal noch von der alten Garde des Genres dominiert wurde. Die unbändige Energie und der jugendliche Überschwang der Darbietung machten RAM fast sofort zu einer Kraft, mit der man rechnen musste, und zeigten, worum es im Heavy Metal schon immer ging: Stolz, Leidenschaft und Kraft.

RAM wurden in der Vergangenheit oft als "prototypischer schwedischer Metal" bezeichnet, und Sänger Oscar Carlquist widerspricht dem nicht: "Ich würde sagen, dass es bis zu einem gewissen Grad einen einzigartigen skandinavischen Metal-Stil gibt, und schwedische Musiker sind oft sehr talentiert. Sie hatten auch, zumindest in den Achtzigern, einige neoklassische Einflüsse (wahrscheinlich von Yngwie Malmsteen). Schwedische Sängerinnen und Sänger haben auch oft sehr klare Stimmen. Ich kann den schwedischen Sound erkennen, wenn ich den Gesang höre. "Sudden Impact" ist schon seit einiger Zeit nicht mehr erhältlich (2013 gab es eine limitierte Vinyl-Wiederveröffentlichung zum zehnjährigen Jubiläum), so dass die aktuelle Wiederveröffentlichung einer breiteren Öffentlichkeit eine neue Chance bietet, die Wurzeln einer der wichtigsten traditionellen Heavy-Metal-Bands der letzten 20 Jahre zu studieren.

LA-based singer-songwriter Lily Kershaw returns with Pain & More, her new concept album that is a collection of exquisitely heartbreaking, proof-of-life ruminations about existing behind a pall of melancholia. Collectively, they feel like a lifetime of repression, suddenly liberated. Central to Lily’s narratives is the idea that others will probably relate to, or benefit from, her pain. Humbled yet highly melodic, the facetiously named Pain & More is an emotionally tactile album that confronts the many incarnations of the prolonged, persistent depression that has shrouded Lily’s life for decades. It may be her third full-length, but it’s her defining moment -- a vivid, if sometimes uncomfortable, whirl of the angst and hope.Lily released her debut album Midnight In The Garden in 2013, featuring break-out single “As It Seems.” The album scored millions of streams and critical acclaim, and in the following years she landed multiple syncs on shows like Criminal Minds, Grey’s Anatomy, Finding Carter, Ted Lasso and more. She followed it up her 2018 EP Lost Angeles and her 2021 sophomore album Arcadia, which received acclaim from Nylon, American Songwriter, Vulture, Earmilk, Refinery29, CNN and more. Along the way, Lily cut her teeth on tours alongside Radical Face, Mason Jennings, The Weepies, and Joshua Radin, to name a few, and today has amassed more than 80 million streams.

Sumer Is Icumen In is Quentin Thirionet's (Dhavali Giri, Pairi Daeza) debut album. Still, his musical escapades are vast and varied, based almost entirely on improvisation and live recordings, of which he occasionally distributes tapes without further information. Elusive to categorization and identification, unwilling to fix his musical activity under a stable pseudonym, his projects have ranged from gypsy jazz guitar swings, French traditional songs from Auvergne, and various experimental collaborations. Increasingly closer to electronic instrumentation, he crafted what Belgian label KRAAK presents here as Maibaum, his first ever solo output. As the title goes, this may be a maypole on which his multicolored sonic visions spring about.

Former rope access worker and currently a farmer of organic greens, Thirionet lives up to these lines of work as a musician. He assembles precisely what seems like a subtle balance between high manmade structures and soft fertilized soils; a high voltage pylon placed in a biotic landscape. It's all an even blend, spontaneous and steady, but this contraption comes from profound considerations. "I chose these tracks among many others," says Quentin, "because I heard the melodies all the time in my mind, and because I cried while playing them without really understanding why."
Armed with nothing more than a blackbox, a sequencer, a freeze pedal, and a tape player, Thirionet orchestrates a vivid rite of polished futures. At times reminiscent of Hans-Joachim Roedelius' enveloping arrangements, Maibaum's ambiances rely on mild repetitive patterns subsequently textured by prickling sprouts, mechanic dislocations and revamps that stoke and brighten the stirring motions. Jim O'Rourke's I'm Happy and I'm Singing comes to mind in terms of its detailed and prismatic nature, but Sumer Is Incumen In has its particular narrative. It's a tale of regeneration, of spring's delicate procedures and allure, a celebration of gracious and fortunate junctions between nature and machinery.

The album unfolds like a massive engine being made flesh to drift along the ether of a sultry land. The terrain turns pleasant and fertile in the title track; the colors and melodies of May start to unravel. Chromatic columns rise and define the scenery's depth of field breeding a synesthetic stream between crystal lights and warbling organisms. Grande Albero Buono Magico Uoma's brisk kaleidoscopic arpeggios sound like scanning a tree's litmus foliage. Then Ciguri takes us back to the foggy swamp of the beginning but is suddenly lit by an insect’s labyrinthine roundabout. The Jeweled Grid is a poem Quanta Qualia's lustrous metallic voice recites as a report of the album's phenomena. "Shiny revelations jump out. Pearls of thought flicker about." Images from within that distill to swirl around among us. The thicket dissolves as the album concludes calmly in Le Concept De Chien N'aboie Pas. Swaying under sieved solar light, leaves and branches tingle until the winds grow weak. All the warm creatures gathered along the way, and all those who danced around the maypole's splendid equilibrium now withdraw, folding up small to foster rebirth once again.

José Badía Berner

Through the folded sky to America

Ten albums in three years. That's still the cosmic mission of the Berlin post-kraut trio YELKA with Daniel Meteo, Christian Obermaier, and the namesake Yelka Wehmeier.

With the album "For," there was a Label change. After releasing three albums in 2023 with Maurice Summen, head of Fun In The Church they passed the label responsibilities to Karaoke Kalk. Karaoke Kalk is a friendly label founded in Cologne known for establishing the Berlin post-wende scene (fall of the wall scene).

The trio's fourth album was also created with Arne Berger at Popschutz Studio, and the team is definitely well-rehearsed. Instead of recording the planned tracks, the band decided to improvise the session, and all tracks, except for the krauty Doors cover "The Crystal Ship," were created in 5 days in the studio, mostly on the first or second take, but with significantly more overdubs - keyboards, backing vocals, second and third guitars, percussion, and piano. The sound of "For" has become warmer, and the album begins with a kind of 60s-Kinks feeling. Overall, the current record has become much more exuberant - like Alice in Wonderland, YELKA seem to want to restore innocence to things in the opener "Smile (Into Skies)," resulting in an uplifting hiking song for experimental outdoor bohemians.

The follow-up piece "The Boar" speaks to everyone from the north, south, west, and east and here YELKA encounter a horde of wild boars on their travels, before the vocals become hardly understandable and ghostly spooled in reverse, suddenly sounding like Damo Suzuki from CAN at the height of Tago-Mago times.

Finally, YELKA‘s "Crystal Ship," simply sails away with the wild boars into remote 4D worlds between the Cocteau Twins and X-Mal Deutschland.

In the first instrumental of the album "Is this enough?", the band reverse tracks like Jimi Hendrix in his Electric Ladyland, and we dive deeper and deeper into the endless sky until YELKA finally arrive on newly trodden sound paths with "MM" to their beginnings on their debut album "Nowhere Jive." At the popular intersection of post-rock and jazz, where guest singer Bela Hagel also likes to linger for a moment: "Sie wissen" (They know), he knows that too! Surely Rolf-Ulrich Kaiser would have had a lot of fun with his shamanistic singing on his "Kosmische Kuriere" label. The guitars sound like a desert, and the reverb reminds us of the expansive space in the opening track "Skies."

Finally, we land in Amerika, or rather, YELKA ponder the melancholic question of whether anyone still wants to travel to America with them, to the land of unlimited possibilities, the haven for artist souls all over the world. "Do you wanna dance?" Yelka Wehmeier finally asks, while a chorus in the best Sun Ra manner mantra-like repeats "Cold dogs, cool cats." The whole band sings. Everything sounds good.

Sunk in quicksand, doused in prosecco and soundwaves of glitches and Croatian choons, Bolka

is stuck in the raw state of desire. This love came into being under the sad ceilings, bearing traces
of fantastically naive melodies shredded by claws of intruding noises of the artist's debut EP.
And yet, radical sensitivity and optimism on the new EP do not remain just on the beach.
Žiadzasamy (loosely translated as Yearningforus) include love songs about love read in cards,
about overcoming insecurity, about scratching up the slippery walls of reality towards the dream
source of warmth that only SHE possesses.
Syrupy pop tunes in "nech sa ti páčim" ("i hope you like me") are led by a nursery rhyme about
the complex embrace of infatuation, from the head down to the shoulders, knees and toes of the
desired person. The sound wizard of peculiarities goes by the motto "let anything I wish for
come true", whether it's his white buttocks shining in the dark sea or him sweeping past barefoot
in search of seafood delicacies, and the same is heard in his music where euphoric and childish
moods sink arbitrarily to the depths of corroded and distorted rhythms of anxiety. "A smutek
utek" ("and the sadness is gone"), though, sets a new direction for the Bolka's musical piece;
after a slow mo deflation of the balloon of hopes, after wallowing in oozy and sticky blend of
delirious melodies, Bolka gets to spin the wheel of the real Balkan soap opera.

"More, mám ťa veľmi rád" ("sea/man, i like you very much") is the pinnacle of absolute
infiltration and absorption with infatuation and suddenly, the amusing nods to stereotypical
Croatian hits make it clear that all the joy and high spirits do not stem from holiday idleness. In
žiadzasamy, Bolka indulges in the ideal notion of love that is closer to reality with each passing
kilometer, impatiently speeding up the Latin tempo in the hyper-pop escalation in order to
venture into the most radical decision – that all will end well.
Žiadzasamy is hedonism injected right into one's vein, an ashtray always aglow with a lit
cigarette and a musical burst of new-born love that sets the Bolka's sound world on a single
course: from siesta to fiesta, and so on and on.




[d] 04: Žiadzasamy (Remix) [feat. Viktor Jenčuš]

As mood changers go, this track is up there with the best. Last year whilst DJing with miche at Shapes festival in the snow-capped mountains of Switzerland, a breathtaking yet ominous Alpine sky suddenly became a picture postcard moment. The clouds parted and a double rainbow formed, as miche dropped Studio Rio's bossa nova remake of Bill Withers’ all-time classic 'Lovely Day'. From there, the dancefloor shifted gears and morphed into full-swing feel-good vibes, in a beautiful, spontaneous moment nobody could have planned for.

Mr Bongo now proudly presents a reissue of this brilliant, bossa-channelling Bill Withers reinterpretation from Studio Rio’s 2014 release ‘The Brazil Connection’. Masterminded by the German Grammy award-winning Berman Brothers, the project was born out of their deep love of Brazilian music. “Our goal was to bring the Brazilian joie de vivre to iconic performances by well-known artists. What would these classic songs sound like had they been recorded in the studios of Rio de Janeiro in the first place, with the best Brazilian musicians and arrangers?” the brothers reflect.

Capturing the life force of Brazil, the beating heart that is its music, they set out to find the musicians who would fit best with their concept. Landing in Rio in 2013 a series of coincidences led to them being introduced to their idols Marcos Valle and Roberto Menescal, who both agreed to come on board. The Berman Brothers also wanted to find some of the musicians who recorded with one of Brazil’s most influential composers Tom Jobim. “Fifty years after Jobim made the music that really defines bossa nova, we found that many of his sidemen were still active, including Paulo Braga of Jobim’s famed rhythm section. It was magic; everything just fell into place.”

There's no question that the original of ‘Lovely Day’ is up there as one of the most feel-good, spirit-lifting anthems of all time. Here the brothers, with the help of a whole host of Brazil’s finest musicians, rework Bill’s soul-fuelled groove into a bossa nova slice of sunshine. With the blessing of Bill and Sony, they were given access to the original multitracks so they could incorporate Bill’s vocals perfectly into the new arrangement.

Joy-injected horns and bouncing double bass blend with the smile-inducing samba flavour of Pretinho da Serrinha’s cavaquinho playing. Tying it all together Torcuato Marinao who worked with the likes of Gal Costa, Gilberto Gil and Caetano Veloso, completes the line-up as arranger of the songs.

The perfect end-of-the-night track, mood lifter or soul warmer, remakes don’t get much better than this.

From the outset this ad hoc quartet hit the gas, launching into a frenzied, high-octane set with alto saxophonist Rasmussen engaging in a furious tightrope-walk of upper register screams while O'Rourke unspools some of the most gnarly guitar noise this side of Masayuki Takayanagi. Of course, with such flinty, seasoned improvisers there are thrilling peaks-and-valleys, such as the extended hydroplaning guitar O'Rourke sculpts mid-way through the first extended piece, with the rest of the group taking a much-deserved pause. The pause sets the stage of a thrilling recalibration, with Corsano first diving in with an epic improvisation only to recede for one of Sakata's singular vocal improvisations, a throaty incantation as dynamic and visceral as his alto playing. Rasmussen returns, with Sakata picking up his clarinet, and suddenly the twinned reed blast that started the whole performance toggles into more spacious interplay, tapping into jazz orthodoxy without being held captive by it. - The entire recording is a testament to refined listening. Even at the most scorching peaks each player is deftly attuned to one another's sonic projections. Bridging generations, continents, and individual aesthetics, Rasmussen, Corsano, Sakata, and O'Rourke find common cause, convening for an evening of galvanic sound that's simultaneously exhilarating and spiritual. - Akira Sakata - saxophone, voice - Jim O'Rourke - guitar - Mette Rasmussen - saxophone - Chris Corsano - drums Coloured marble vinyl LP!

In the enigmatic realm of electronic music, The Black Dog stands as a visionary act, responsible for crafting, among other things, the mesmerising album "Silenced". Notably, this release marks a significant milestone in the band's evolution, being the first album from the new line-up and their collaboration with the fledgling label Dust Science.

Defying industry norms, The Black Dog embodies a Do-It-Yourself (DIY) ethos. Their artistic journey remains steadfast, with a commitment to originality and creative freedom, unfettered by the limitations imposed by the commercial music industry.

The record label Dust Science takes pride in championing The Black Dog's musical prowess, with its first release being the band's 4-track EP "Bite Thee Back". However, this EP was only a prototype for the revitalised collective, eventually leading to the composition of Silenced, which followed soon after.

This creative period denotes a fresh start for The Black Dog, a testament to their resilience and a commitment to evolving their sound. The resulting album represents a new beginning, celebrating and transcending the echoes of the past. It redefines the band's sonic landscape and establishes a distinct musical narrative that resonates with dedicated followers and newcomers alike.

a A1 The Black Dog Trojan Horus Part 1 (Album Mix / Remastered) 00:05:42
b A2 The Black Dog Trojan Horus Part 2 (Album Mix / Remastered) 00:02:29














q D2 The Black Dog 4 3s 555 Part 1 (Album Mix / Remastered) 00:02:57
[r] D3 The Black Dog 4 3s 555 [Part 2] (Album Mix / Remastered) 00:08:16

[a] A1 Trojan Horus [Part 1] (Album Mix / Remastered) 00:05:42
[b] A2 Trojan Horus [Part 2] (Album Mix / Remastered) 00:02:29














[q] D2 4 3s 555 [Part 1] (Album Mix / Remastered) 00:02:57
[Part 2] (Album Mix / Remastered) 00:08:16

[a] A1 Trojan Horus [Part 1] (Album Mix / Remastered) 00:05:42
[b] A2 Trojan Horus [Part 2] (Album Mix / Remastered) 00:02:29














[q] D2 4 3s 555 [Part 1] (Album Mix / Remastered) 00:02:57
[Part 2] (Album Mix / Remastered) 00:08:16

Neither Timothy J. Fairplay, nor Norwell are strangers to the Dalmata Daniel family: both of them are trustworthy contributors to DD compilation albums of earlier years, plus Norwell has released his 'ODD' EP and 'Joint Spaceflights' EP back in 2017 and 2019 on the label. So this time, it's a return for Norwell, and a debut for Mr. Fairplay: their DDS09 split EP is here to present 4 tracks full of outer space lights, eerie vibes, mesmerizing beats and cosmic energies.

Timothy J. Fairplay's side A starts with the explicit kicks and ominous basslines of 'Caliber 9'. Slowly and steadily, the laser blasts and relentless drums all add up to define a world of space cadets on the run, where any odd-looking figure can turn out to be a malignant, speedy alien. 'TV Tower' takes us to another planet with an even higher rotation velocity. Fast percussion elements and squished lower frequencies take center stage in this intergalactic episode, but the whistle-like melodies and descending, bubbling robot signals make the journey complete.

Flip to side B, and enter the contemplating, otherworldly atmospheres of Norwell. 'Midnight Rituals' gives you the chills with its breath-like swooshes, grievous sirens and deadly asteroid belts. Yet, there is no need to worry: after an intense ride with your spaceship, eventually you end up in the same spot, where you started: in the stable and steady mid-tempo beats of an expertly-programmed drummachine. The orbital mission comes to an end with 'Natives', a dense and heroic hymn with emotive structures and well-crafted harmonics. The track starts with the bittersweet, lamenting synths of a solo voice, pouring their heart out in the spotlight, all alone on the stage. All of a sudden, a hard-hitting, rhythmic groove commences its last rush of dedicated cadences. It is full of breaks, it is full of 303s, completed with airy echoes and dreamy, light gestures. 'Natives' keeps on building its structure with elegant paces, providing a massive, yet delicate experience of Norwell's defined aesthetics. The track lets the last strokes of its gloomy synths roll out, along with the final round of looping drums, thus putting an end to DDS09.

The Body & Dis Fig are a natural pair. Each has pioneered instantly recognizable worlds of sound all their own that defy any traditional categorizations or boundaries. The Body, Lee Buford and Chip King, continually challenge any conventional conception of metal, collaborating with myriad artists and from the folk-leanings of their work with BIG|BRAVE to their groundbreaking work with the Assembly of Light Choir to the intensity of their collaborations with OAA or Thou. Dis Fig, aka Felicia Chen, pushes electronic music into dark extremes, from warped DJ sets to avant production, from being a member of Tianzhuo Chen’s performance-art series TRANCE to being the vocalist with The Bug. The Body and Dis Fig find kinship in reimagining what it means to make “heavy music”. Their debut Orchards of a Futile Heaven is the perfect synthesis of two forces, twisting melodicism and intoxicating rhythms, layering a dense miasma of distortion with intense beats and a soaring voice clawing its way towards absolution.

Orchards of a Futile Heaven’s walls of sputtering texture and tectonic booms are soaked in the reverence and melancholy of sacred spaces brought to life by palpable intensity by Chen’s voice. Crafted during a time of personal fragility, the album’s devastating force lies beyond any of the expected noise and abrasive textures typically associated with both The Body & Dis Fig. Suffused with a raw vulnerability and a longing for catharsis, Chen’s voice searches for escape in the midst of oppressive atmospheres as if determined to find relief from guilt. “Eternal Hours” patiently unfurls waves of surprising sounds, whispered undulations that are punctuated by sudden crashes, all beneath Chen’s haunting harmonies. “Dissent, Shame” evokes grief and shame with a minimalist drone dirge that gradually builds to an enchanting choral passage. King’s guitar on “Holy Lance” matches the uncanny drone of Chen’s accordion in an all-consuming blast, Chen’s voice transforming the moment from anguish to defiance and empowerment. The album’s arc finishes with “Coils of Kaa” acting as a kind of propulsive exorcism, breaking through a suffocating air before the funeral procession of “Back to the Water” lays the album to rest.

While sampling has long been essential to each, The Body & Dis Fig deftly meld their differing approaches to sampling and creating extreme sounds until the boundaries are entirely blurred. The two found kinship in their desire to find new avenues to make heavy music that looked beyond tropes of metal and electronic music by merging the two. “I always wanted the heavier stuff but I also didn’t really like heavier guitar music,” says Buford. “None of it really felt quite heavy enough to me. A human can’t be as heavy as a machine.” Chen counters, “I love the balance. You could never connect to just a machine as well as you could a human. Which is why the combination is so potent for me. I don’t want to hide. I think nothing connects you more empathetically than another human's voice.”

Orchards of a Futile Heaven affirms The Body & Dis Fig as skilled sound sculptors who have an exceptional ability to make deeply affecting music, bracing as it is touching, harrowing as it is awe-inspiring. Together, the two have harnessed their expansive artistry to make music that is profoundly emotional, and staggering in its beauty.

World Of Echo are proud to announce the long-awaited reissue, on 17th February, of the self-titled debut album by Bristol’s Movietone. Originally released in 1995 by Planet Records and reissued on CD in 2003 by The Pastels’ Geographic Music imprint, this is the first time Movietone has been reissued on vinyl. An expanded double-LP edition, it includes the extra tracks from the 2003 CD (their first two singles, and an unreleased demo of “Chance Is Her Opera”), and adds three more unearthed gems: demos of “Alkaline Eye” and “She Smiled Mandarine Like”, and an early take of “Late July”, recorded in a garden by Dave Pearce (Flying Saucer Attack) in 1993. Taken together, this is the definitive collection of music from the first phase of one of Bristol’s most remarkable groups.

Movietone was the cumulation of a series of events, explorations, and discoveries, starting at secondary school – the group’s core membership of Kate Wright, Rachel Brook, Matt Elliott and Matt Jones met at Cotham School in Bristol. As for many other groups, their early years were all about experimenting, and finding ways to ‘make do’, a DIY sensibility that would inform Movietone through their decade-long lifespan. From formative rehearsals in a shed in the garden of Brook’s family home, to recording early material to four-track in Redland Library, and on into the Whitehouse and Mr Grin’s studio sessions for their debut album, Movietone’s music fell together in a creatively unpredictable, yet conceptually rigorous manner.

By the time they released Movietone, they’d found a home with Bristol’s Planet, run by author Richard King and James Webster, who had both released their first two singles, “She Smiled Mandarine Like” and “Mono Valley”. There was other music happening around them in Bristol, too, from the Jones brothers’ avant-rock outfit Crescent (who were Movietone’s closest conspirators), through Elliott’s jungle/electronica project Third Eye Foundation, and Brook and Elliott’s membership of Flying Saucer Attack. A closely knit community, Movietone are the centre of this nestling architecture of groups.

The vision in the music, mostly, belongs to Wright, but Movietone ran in democratic creative consort. Listening back to Movietone, you can hear this democracy in action through the wildness of the music, which is balanced by the poetics of Wright’s lyrics and melodies. Full of half-captured memories and entangled abstractions, there’s an elliptical, ruminative quality to much of the writing here that shows the deep influence of the Beat Generation writers, along with a twilight environment captured in the songs that’s pure third-album Velvets, Galaxie 500, early Tindersticks, Codeine. Unpredictable interventions – the crashing glass in “Mono Valley”, the sudden explosions of “Orange Zero” – point towards the noise blowouts of My Bloody Valentine, the unpredictability of Sonic Youth; Wright’s understated vocal cadence suggest a deep, embodied understanding of John Cage’s Indeterminacy.

Movietone would go on to make three fantastic albums for Domino – Night & Day (1997), The Blossom Filled Streets (2000) and The Sand & The Stars (2003) – and their Peel Sessions were released early in 2022 by Textile. Still held in high regard by artists like Steven R. Smith, and The Pastels, whose Stephen McRobbie once described them as “one of the great unknown English groups,” it’s an absolute thrill to listen to Movietone anew – still inspired, still seductive, still magic, still mysterious.

"BAKI is the hit series produced by TMS Entertainment and airing from 2018 on Netflix.

Here at last is its smashing soundtrack composed by Kenji Fujisawa, fully remastered in vinyl format in a translucent red 3LP edition!

The vinyl edition includes:

- A beautifully illustrated gatefold sleeve

- 3xLP in three illustrated sleeves

- A 4-page booklet

60 tracks, 3 xLP translucent red

Entirely remastered for the vinyl format

Gatefold with 3 illustrated sleeves

Composed by Kenji Fujisawa

PRODUCED BY BAKI AND BAKI II FILM PARTNERS

© KEISUKE ITAGAKI(AKITASHOTEN)/BAKI FILM PARTNERS AND BAKI II FILM PARTNERS ALL RIGHTS RESERVED”

Optimo (Espacio) started life as a weekly club night. It was born at The Sub Club in Glasgow on a wet, windy, wintry November Sunday night in 1997. Run by JD Twitch and partner in crime Jonnie Wilkes. Optimo was a reaction against what felt like an increasingly conservative musical soundtrack in clubs here at that time. Clubland felt as if it had become very bland and a bit too serious; it was the era of the dawn of the Superstar DJ. Clubs often felt like bastions of male energy. It seemed dance music and culture was going somewhere far, far away from where it was meant to be. The notion of fun had got lost.

It was no longer the world they had devoted ten years of their lives to already, and lots of their friends felt the same. When the opportunity came up to do a Sunday night at The Sub Club it felt like the perfect opportunity to rip it all up and start again. So they did. There was nothing in the city (or possibly anywhere) like it. As the club believed wholeheartedly in what they were doing, there was no pressure from The Sub Club to fill the club. So, they embraced the freedom. Groups of people who had never been in the same room at the same time before came together. A community of kindred spirits started to emerge.

Word spread, slowly. Lots of people checked it out. Many loved it, some hated it. The core of the Optimo idea was to embrace music they loved that might work on the dancefloor from whatever era or genre they thought felt right. It might not seem very radical now but at that time it was revolutionary.

After about a year and a half, the club went from having 100 people attending most nights to suddenly one week having 500 people turn up. It was very weird. It was as if a collective light bulb went off in people’s heads in Glasgow. From that week on, until the very last weekly Sunday night at the Sub Club, in 2010, over a decade later, it was packed.

There were 550 Sunday Optimo nights. A LOT of music was played. So, what was the music? People often find it hard to pin down exactly what Optimo is. This has been a positive but also a negative as we live in a world where people want easily defined “brand identities”. The simplest definition of the music played is “music for dancing”, which of course is a very broad definition. Even better than trying to define it in words, we have these 2 volumes of music that give a hint of what that might be.

This is not a “Best of Optimo” or a “Greatest Hits of Optimo” compilation. For people who come to, or used to come to the nights there are of course “Greatest Hits”. But, over such a long timespan they are “hits” belonging to a certain moment in time and space. Someone who came to Optimo in 1997 would have a completely different notion of the big tracks at the club to someone coming in 2003, or 2010, or today. This compilation is just a snap shot missing several genres that might make up the DNA of Optimo. There is though a broad sweep through lots of music Optimo loves, that they believe is amazing. Music that they know will rock a dancefloor, that they have played between 1997 and 2023. Of course Optimo nights were not all about rocking the dancefloor. The first hour was always a time for them to play music they loved that often was far removed from the dance. Side 1, Volume 1 of this compilation is the kind of music one might hear at the very start of an Optimo night.

Optimo have always loved a good slogan. The most long lived, and fitting Optimo slogan is "We Love Your Ears", which is in essence what it is all about to them.

Optimo (Espacio) started life as a weekly club night. It was born at The Sub Club in Glasgow on a wet, windy, wintry November Sunday night in 1997. Run by JD Twitch and partner in crime Jonnie Wilkes. Optimo was a reaction against what felt like an increasingly conservative musical soundtrack in clubs here at that time. Clubland felt as if it had become very bland and a bit too serious; it was the era of the dawn of the Superstar DJ. Clubs often felt like bastions of male energy. It seemed dance music and culture was going somewhere far, far away from where it was meant to be. The notion of fun had got lost.

It was no longer the world they had devoted ten years of their lives to already, and lots of their friends felt the same. When the opportunity came up to do a Sunday night at The Sub Club it felt like the perfect opportunity to rip it all up and start again. So they did. There was nothing in the city (or possibly anywhere) like it. As the club believed wholeheartedly in what they were doing, there was no pressure from The Sub Club to fill the club. So, they embraced the freedom. Groups of people who had never been in the same room at the same time before came together. A community of kindred spirits started to emerge.

Word spread, slowly. Lots of people checked it out. Many loved it, some hated it. The core of the Optimo idea was to embrace music they loved that might work on the dancefloor from whatever era or genre they thought felt right. It might not seem very radical now but at that time it was revolutionary.

After about a year and a half, the club went from having 100 people attending most nights to suddenly one week having 500 people turn up. It was very weird. It was as if a collective light bulb went off in people’s heads in Glasgow. From that week on, until the very last weekly Sunday night at the Sub Club, in 2010, over a decade later, it was packed.

There were 550 Sunday Optimo nights. A LOT of music was played. So, what was the music? People often find it hard to pin down exactly what Optimo is. This has been a positive but also a negative as we live in a world where people want easily defined “brand identities”. The simplest definition of the music played is “music for dancing”, which of course is a very broad definition. Even better than trying to define it in words, we have these 2 volumes of music that give a hint of what that might be.

This is not a “Best of Optimo” or a “Greatest Hits of Optimo” compilation. For people who come to, or used to come to the nights there are of course “Greatest Hits”. But, over such a long timespan they are “hits” belonging to a certain moment in time and space. Someone who came to Optimo in 1997 would have a completely different notion of the big tracks at the club to someone coming in 2003, or 2010, or today. This compilation is just a snap shot missing several genres that might make up the DNA of Optimo. There is though a broad sweep through lots of music Optimo loves, that they believe is amazing. Music that they know will rock a dancefloor, that they have played between 1997 and 2023. Of course Optimo nights were not all about rocking the dancefloor. The first hour was always a time for them to play music they loved that often was far removed from the dance. Side 1, Volume 1 of this compilation is the kind of music one might hear at the very start of an Optimo night.

Optimo have always loved a good slogan. The most long lived, and fitting Optimo slogan is "We Love Your Ears", which is in essence what it is all about to them.

Debut vinyl by Cruz Perro Maldito, a Tenerife based trio forever imbued in the collective imagination and folklore myths of the magical and misty mountain of Agua García, located in Tacoronte district at the foot of Teide Volcano (Tenerife/Canary Islands). Their music is an explosion of free jazz improv where sophisticated sound textures emerg-ing from modular synths and processed guitar create abstract and random rhythmic patterns with complex saxophone lines guiding the ensemble from quiet to menacing passages of sudden bursts of noise and frenzy.


Entitled Truquetin Resorte, the album takes inspiration from the rich history of mechanical automata, such as Talos, the bronze giant who defended the island of Crete and was eventually defeated by Jason and his Argonauts. Or Apega de Nabis, a replica of King Nabis’ wife whom crossed unsuspecting victims with its iron spikes hidden in the device's lower arms, hands and breasts.

Or even René Descartes and his infamous daughter- like Automaton replica, an eerie creation from the renown philosopher to evoke his dead daughter
These myths and more serve as reminder of a mechanical world’s past, a world of complex automata stories with me-chanic ‘imitating’ beings as its problematic protagonists. An eerie counterpoint to our current uber modern digital world and its rapid advancing A.I.s.

Black Truffle is pleased to announce Symphony No. 107 –The Bard, a previously unheard archival recording of the legendary improvising ensemble MEV (Musica Elettronica Viva), captured in concert at Bard College, New York in 2012. Formed by a group of American expat composers in Rome in 1966, the MEV ensemble played an important role in the development of free improvisation, bridging the live electronics tradition begun by Cage and Tudor and the high-energy squall of free jazz. Early recordings like Spacecraft or The Sound Pool unleash volleys of metal and glass amplified with contact microphones, howling winds, primitive synthesizer bleep and raucous audience participation, the intensity of which puts much later ‘noise’ to shame. In later decades, the ensemble would go through many iterations, often including legendary free players like Steve Lacy and George Lewis. In its final years, MEV settled into the core trio of founding members heard here: Alvin Curran, Frederic Rzewski, and Richard Teitelbaum, using piano, electronics, and small instruments.

Curran, Rzewski, and Teitelbaum were life-long friends blessed, as Curran says, with ‘incompatible personalities’: major figures in the post-Cagean experimental tradition, they explored countless divergent and even contradictory paths as composers and performers, from agitprop songs to brainwave-controlled synthesis. MEV is the sound of these three personalities coming together, their contributions radically individual yet attaining a state of ‘fundamental unity’ that Rzewski, in a text written in the collective’s earliest years, defined as the ‘final goal of improvisation’. Of course, listeners familiar with aspect of the trio’s individual works might hazard some guesses about who is doing what: the crisp piano figures are probably Rzewski’s, the cut-up hip-hop samples most likely Curran’s, the sliding, squelching synth possibly Teitelbaum’s. But often these identities are dissolved in a constantly shifting hall of mirrors, the listener unable to tell which of these pianos is live and which is a sample of a past virtuoso, or whether a horn blast derives from ethnographic documentation or Curran cutting loose on Shofar. The two side-long sets here occupy a similar terrain of constantly shifting texture and instrumentation, unexpected interruptions, and moments of sudden beauty. The first set is sparser, at times almost ominous, as a bell repeatedly sounds across wheezing harmonica, seasick orchestral textures, and creaking wood, making room for episodes of yodelling and delicate prepared piano before exploding into a storm of buzzing synth and piano fragments. The second set is more frenetic, moving rapidly across centuries and continents: cars crash into post-serial piano pointillism, wailing voices collide with chopped and screwed hip-hop samples, Hollywood strings are buried under layers of electronic gurgles. The performance slows in its final moments, making way for a sampled voice repeating the phrase ‘protest and the good of the world’, reminding us that MEV’s idea of freedom was always more than musical. Symphony No. 107 –The Bard is a beautifully recorded example of the endlessly multi-layered later MEV sound, accompanied by new liner notes by Alvin Curran (now the only surviving member of the group) and a selection of previously unseen photographs from across the many decades of the group’s activity. Arriving in an elegant sleeve bearing a beautiful photograph by Francis Zhou of the Olin Hall at Bard College where the concert was recorded, this is an essential document from a major group in the history of experimental music. As Rzewski wrote, this music is ‘like life, unpredictable, sometimes making sense, mostly not’.

Ed Sheeran is set to release his new album ‘-‘ (Subtract) - the last in his decade-spanning mathematical album era - on 5 May 2023 through Asylum/Atlantic on vinyl, cassette and CD. An album that revisits Ed’s singer/songwriter roots, and one that was written against a backdrop of personal grief and hope, ‘-’ (Subtract) presents one of the biggest stars on the planet at his most vulnerable and honest.
In Ed’s own words - “I had been working on Subtract for a decade, trying to sculpt the perfect acoustic album, writing and recording hundreds of songs with a clear vision of what I thought it should be. Then at the start of 2022, a series of events changed my life, my mental health, and ultimately the way I viewed music and art.
Writing songs is my therapy. It helps me make sense of my feelings. I wrote without thought of what the songs would be, I just wrote whatever tumbled out. And in just over a week, I replaced a decade’s worth of work with my deepest darkest thoughts.

Within the space of a month, my pregnant wife got told she had a tumour, with no route to treatment until after the birth. My best friend Jamal, a brother to me, died suddenly and I found myself standing in court defending my integrity and career as a songwriter. I was spiralling through fear, depression and anxiety.
I felt like I was drowning, head below the surface, looking up but not being able to break through for air.

As an artist I didn’t feel like I could credibly put a body of work into the world that didn’t accurately represent where I am and how I need to express myself at this point in my life. This album is purely that. It’s opening the trapdoor into my soul. For the first time I’m not trying to craft an album people will like, I’m merely putting something out that’s honest and true to where I am in my adult life.

This is last February’s diary entry and my way of making sense of it. This is Subtract.”
Since he first learnt ‘Layla’ by Eric Clapton on guitar at the age of 12-years-old, Sheeran’s love of the singer/songwriter began. Growing up with the likes of Damian Rice, Bruce Springsteen and Bob Dylan playing on repeat in his parents’ house – artists that his dad, John, introduced him to – ‘-‘was always on Ed’s horizon. Yet as the songs and writing process took on a whole new meaning and direction after a series of hard-hitting events impacted Ed’s world in 2022, one thing that remained untouched was his strong desire to make a record anchored in his love of singer/songwriter compositions. And now, as he gears-up for the release of his most soul-baring work to date, ‘-‘ serves as a timely reminder for why Sheeran remains one of the most gifted lyricists of his generation; an artist who breaks down his own experiences for fans to seek comfort and belonging.
‘-‘ is the result of Sheeran pushing the boundaries of his songcraft, as he delivers the most profound songwriting of his career. Teaming-up with Aaron Dessner (The National) on writing and production after the pair joined forces following an introduction from mutual friend Taylor Swift, Ed and Aaron began crafting the album in February last year. Writing over 30 songs during their month-long studio stint, the album’s fourteen tracks are seamlessly tied together by exquisite production from paired back, folk-leaning textures to bolder, full-band/orchestral arrangements.
Ed Sheeran burst onto the UK music scene in 2011 with his debut album ‘+’. Rapidly establishing himself as a history-making artist, he followed with ‘x’, ‘÷’, ‘No.6 Collaborations Project’ and ‘=’ - a catalogue that has seen Sheeran become one of the world’s biggest musical success stories of the 21st century.

Ed Sheeran is set to release his new album ‘-‘ (Subtract) - the last in his decade-spanning mathematical album era - on 5 May 2023 through Asylum/Atlantic on vinyl, cassette and CD. An album that revisits Ed’s singer/songwriter roots, and one that was written against a backdrop of personal grief and hope, ‘-’ (Subtract) presents one of the biggest stars on the planet at his most vulnerable and honest.
In Ed’s own words - “I had been working on Subtract for a decade, trying to sculpt the perfect acoustic album, writing and recording hundreds of songs with a clear vision of what I thought it should be. Then at the start of 2022, a series of events changed my life, my mental health, and ultimately the way I viewed music and art.
Writing songs is my therapy. It helps me make sense of my feelings. I wrote without thought of what the songs would be, I just wrote whatever tumbled out. And in just over a week, I replaced a decade’s worth of work with my deepest darkest thoughts.

Within the space of a month, my pregnant wife got told she had a tumour, with no route to treatment until after the birth. My best friend Jamal, a brother to me, died suddenly and I found myself standing in court defending my integrity and career as a songwriter. I was spiralling through fear, depression and anxiety.
I felt like I was drowning, head below the surface, looking up but not being able to break through for air.

As an artist I didn’t feel like I could credibly put a body of work into the world that didn’t accurately represent where I am and how I need to express myself at this point in my life. This album is purely that. It’s opening the trapdoor into my soul. For the first time I’m not trying to craft an album people will like, I’m merely putting something out that’s honest and true to where I am in my adult life.

This is last February’s diary entry and my way of making sense of it. This is Subtract.”
Since he first learnt ‘Layla’ by Eric Clapton on guitar at the age of 12-years-old, Sheeran’s love of the singer/songwriter began. Growing up with the likes of Damian Rice, Bruce Springsteen and Bob Dylan playing on repeat in his parents’ house – artists that his dad, John, introduced him to – ‘-‘was always on Ed’s horizon. Yet as the songs and writing process took on a whole new meaning and direction after a series of hard-hitting events impacted Ed’s world in 2022, one thing that remained untouched was his strong desire to make a record anchored in his love of singer/songwriter compositions. And now, as he gears-up for the release of his most soul-baring work to date, ‘-‘ serves as a timely reminder for why Sheeran remains one of the most gifted lyricists of his generation; an artist who breaks down his own experiences for fans to seek comfort and belonging.
‘-‘ is the result of Sheeran pushing the boundaries of his songcraft, as he delivers the most profound songwriting of his career. Teaming-up with Aaron Dessner (The National) on writing and production after the pair joined forces following an introduction from mutual friend Taylor Swift, Ed and Aaron began crafting the album in February last year. Writing over 30 songs during their month-long studio stint, the album’s fourteen tracks are seamlessly tied together by exquisite production from paired back, folk-leaning textures to bolder, full-band/orchestral arrangements.
Ed Sheeran burst onto the UK music scene in 2011 with his debut album ‘+’. Rapidly establishing himself as a history-making artist, he followed with ‘x’, ‘÷’, ‘No.6 Collaborations Project’ and ‘=’ - a catalogue that has seen Sheeran become one of the world’s biggest musical success stories of the 21st century.

‘’Ace Todmorden label makes a significant discovery on its own doorstep: a superb cache of ‘loner folk’ songs recorded in the early-70s by Hebden Bridge’s answer to Nick Drake’’ UNCUT PLAYLIST

"This is music that can confidently hold its own with pioneers such as Davey Graham, Michael Chapman, Bert Jansch and Jackson C Frank, as influenced by jazz, blues and steel guitar as any of the old songbook classics from ancient Albion.” Benjamin Myers
"Defiantly Northern and out of this world" Folk Radio

Anti-counter culture loner folk from a teenage attic in the heart of rural Northern hippiedom.
Today the valley town of Hebden Bridge in West Yorkshire is world-renowned as something of a bohemian backwater. It wasn’t like this back in the late 1960s and the early 1970s, when a disparate selection of radicals, drop-outs, heads, musicians, artists and writers started to be attracted to the Calder Valley. Local lad and future poet laureate Ted Hughes called the area “the fouled nest of industrialisation”.
Over time, those seeds of radicalism and collectivism ensured Hebden Bridge evolved into a place where people could be themselves and all shades of individual oddness not only tolerated but actively encouraged. But back at the turn of the dreary 1970s it remained a monochrome world defined by its unforgiving surrounding landscapes, where the old gritstone over-dwellings were stained with soot and rain lashed down for weeks.
It was here that Trevor Beales, who was born in 1953, grew up, and from where he drew musical and lyrical inspiration.
Perhaps it was this dual nationality heritage, unusual in the valley’s largely white working class population at the time, that gave the teenager Trevor Beale’s music an outsider’s perspective. The discovery of Bob Dylan, Django Reinhardt, The Byrds and James Taylor at a young age, lead to him picking up a guitar at the age of ten, and he was soon writing his own originals and performing them at local (though often remote) folk clubs and pubs.
Recorded in the attic of the family home at Ivy Bank in Charlestown on the verdant wooded slopes at the edge of Hebden Bridge between 1971 and 1974, these early recordings are collected here for the first time and mark Trevor Beales long-overdue solo debut.
In these songs is a suffer-no-fools sense of realism that is defiantly Northern, yet also expresses a worldliness that belies Beales’ young years, whilst also showcasing an inherent storyteller’s ear for narrative. Here is a postcard from the past at that crucial musical period of transition, when the idealistic exponents of the 1960s emerged into an austere new decade that was to be shaped by strikes, rising unemployment and economic upheaval.
Two aspects of this music make it remarkable: Beales’ natural ability showcases a sophisticated guitar-picking style that was leagues ahead of many of his (older, more recognised) contemporaries. This is music that can confidently hold its own with pioneers such as Davey Graham, Michael Chapman, Dave Evans, Bert Jansch and Jackson C Frank, as influenced by jazz, blues and steel guitar as any of the old songbook classics from ancient Albion.
Secondly, his lyrics are a far cry from either the naïve bedroom scribblings of a teenager who has barely left his upland home, nor do they fall foul of the type of lazy cliches and sub-Tolkien imagery that was still in abundance in the early 1970s. Most remarkably the earliest songs here were laid down less than a year after he left school (an unearthed report written by his headteacher on July 3rd 1970 noted he had “a considerable ability and interest in music”, though his education ended abruptly when he simply walked out of a science lesson one sunny day while at sixth form, never to return).
Trevor’s music is grounded in reality – his reality. ‘Then I’ll Take You Home’, for example, considers the Guru Marajai, who encouraged his acolytes to give over their worldly possessions, yet who drove a Rolls Royce and lived like a playboy. Unsurprisingly, this latest in a long line of spiritual charlatans found several followers in Hebden Bridge, and Beales casts a disdainful eye over the growing popularity for such false prophets.
With its ancient narratives and propensity for myth-making, folk has certainly produced it’s fair share of cult figures who have enjoyed rediscovery or career resurgence and with this debut compilation of home recordings, rescued from cassette tapes, Trevor Beales might just be the latest addition. Certainly he was the real deal.
Crucially, Beales' music is never jaded or cynical, but instead possesses a poet’s ear, a strong sense of self and some sound critical faculties. And much of it recorded at an age when he could neither vote nor order a pint of heavy.
Trevor Beales died suddenly and unexpectedly on March 29th 1987, aged 33. He left behind Christine and their young child Lydia.

Sintering or frittage is the process of compacting and forming a solid mass of material by heat or pressure without melting it to the point of liquefaction. The material produced by sintering is called sinter. The word sinter comes from the Middle High German sinter, a cognate of English cinder.

Born in the mid-60s, German musician and sound designer Uwe Zahn came on the scene of electronic music with his debut full-length album for DIN, titled “Atol Scrap.” In the very same year of 2000, the influential City Centre Offices label has signed Arovane for his majestic “Tides,” which has withstood the test of time for over two decades now. Back then, electronic music was split between the dance floors and the bedroom listening, with the latter carrying the now-famous acronym for Intelligent Dance Music. And Zahn’s compositions were indeed just that – more than a gimmicky, knob-twisting, stuttering randomization of experimental rhythms and tone, Arovane’s music evoked real emotion which has assembled his followers from around the globe. But his arrival on the scene was more than a predictable trajectory. Zahn’s sound began to take shape in the late 80s when the cut-up hip-hop beats were layered with synthesizer pads and looped samples. This experimentation progressed into what the 90s coined as breakbeat and glitch.

As the 2000s rolled over, and the monumental imprints, such as Skam and Warp, honed their staple repertoire defining the future of electronic music, City Centre Offices had a staple of their own. Often referenced alongside Boards of Canada and Autechre, Arovane’s sound quickly gained a discerning audience, tuning into his melancholic melodies, advanced textures, and complex polyrhythms. The pinnacle of his production was released in 2004, when suddenly, on “Lilies,” Zahn signed off with the final track, which he has titled “Good Bye Forever.” And then there was silence. For nearly nine years, the scene and yours truly mourned the loss of Arovane, assuming that he’s given up. That is until, in 2013, Zahn came out with a brand new album, “Ve Palor,” on the surviving post-IDM imprint, n5MD.

While on hiatus, Uwe spent his time researching, reconnecting, and reflecting on all he’s built. The sound experiments went on, and so did the music scene, morphing, dissolving, re-shaping itself into a new form for new followers. During that time, Zahn spent some time with sound design, creating patches for Access Virus TI, as well as sample packs for various sound developers. After “Ve Palor,” Zahn began collaborating with various musicians from around the world, exploring, directing, and fusing their distinguished sound with his own. On his subsequent releases, he shared credits with ambient artists Porya Hatami, Hior Chronik, Darren McClure, and even yours truly. During our collaboration, Zahn often described the process of building a new vocabulary for our very own defined language, with which my piano spoke through sound.

With nearly two dozen studio releases under his belt, numerous EPs and singles, and just as many appearances on various compilations, Zahn continues to split his time between his fascination with sound design, sonic programming, and musical composition, which sees the light via his ongoing projects, releases, and contributions towards audio plug-ins, software synths, and sound sets for advanced hardware. It’s effortless to slot Zahn’s sound between the genres, scenes, and names, but very difficult to peel apart, define, and then express the essence using words. However, what is simple and essential for the ones who understand, is recognizing, admiring, and subsequently falling in love with all that is encompassing of Arovane. (by Mike Lazarev)

When the pandemic hit, Hannah van Loon adopted a dog named Gizmo, who became a much-needed companion while the Bay Area musician wrote her second album as Tanukichan. Aptly Named after her new four-legged friend, GIZMO is an exercise in release, whether from situational hindrances—a forced lockdown, for one—or from self-imposed hedonistic coping mechanisms.“ A theme I always had floating around was escape,” van Loon explains of her follow-up to 2018’s Sundays. “Escaping from myself, my problems, sadness and cycles.”

To channel the more uplifting spirit she wanted for GIZMO, van Loon turned to the radio pop-rock of her childhood: “I was struck by the in-your-face positivity of the lyrics,” she adds,referencing artists like 311, The Cranberries, and Tom Petty. “I wanted to bring that positivity while writing about the sad and helpless emotions I’d been grappling with.” But GIZMO’s lightheartedness doesn’t make it shallow: “I think that I could let it go, as beautiful as snow,” she murmurs on “Don’t Give Up,” a nu metal-meets-Cocteau Twins groove about the sudden awareness that all the relationships you depend on could vanish instantaneously. Van Loon’s main collaborator on GIZMO was Toro y Moi’s Chaz Bear, and the jangly pop earworm “Take Care” showcases the heavily distorted, in-your-face guitar work reminiscent of Bear’s own psych joints What For? And Mahal. On the hypnotic, wall-of-sound-rocker “Thin Air” featuring Enumclaw, van Loon channels the triumphant grit of The Smashing Pumpkins as she ponders the impermanence of even the most impactful relationships: “I’ll always have the memories/Of how you used to make me see/Until they fell in the ocean/They’re not swimming/They’re not floating.”

Existentialism aside, GIZMO also sees van Loon break out of her sonic comfort zone. “One ofthe main changes of how I’m approaching music now is that I want to have more fun in the process,” she says, and she walks the line between melodrama and whimsy gracefully: “I can learn something because I’ve been here before,” she sings on the soaring, bittersweet “Been Here Before.” Deftones-inspired thrash drums and screeching electric guitars are gracefully contrasted with van Loon’s hypnotic, almost deadpan vocal style and a crystal clear acoustic guitar she describes as “cute.” Gizmo the dog suddenly passed away right as van Loon finished the album, but he’s immortalised with his photo on the cover—a fitting emblem of this new era of Tanukichan.

Warp setzt die Autechre Reissue-Serie mit den Alben #6 und #7, 'Confield' (2001) und 'Draft 7.30' (2003), fort, die beide seit Ende der Nullerjahre nicht mehr erhältlich waren. 'Confield' erscheint als Doppelvinyl mit bedruckten Innentaschen und DL-Code (WAV/FLAC/MP3). 'Draft 7.30' kommt als Doppelvinyl mit bedruckten Innentaschen im Hochglanz-Cover und DL-Code (WAV/FLAC/MP3).

- 'Offcuts from grooves, traces of symphonic strings, limping breakbeats, a weird oriental tune. What sounds like computer confusion becomes quite a beautiful picture of the chaos of your brain.' - The Guardian****

- 'Es existieren auf Draft 7.30 Momente, in denen die Musik fließt. Ein reißender Strom ist zwar ein Tümpel gegen Autechre-Tonströme, aber die subjektiven Definitionen von Ruhe und Entspannung waren schon immer vielfältig. Sicher ist nur eines: Der Nachbar wird weiterhin genervt sein.' - Sven Niechziol

Alt-rap dissident Jam Baxter announces his newest solo venture, Fetch the Poison. Conceived during a state-wide alcohol ban in Mexico, the album is Baxter’s first to be composed in complete sobriety — though his hallucinatory style of storytelling and cast of monstrous characters make a welcome return. Lyrics on Fetch the Poison meld Baxter’s Latin American experience with visions of a grisly alternate dimension: sun, sea and glittering vistas are sullied by hollow-eyed addicts, shady bar tenders and duplicitous lovers. Amongst deft bars, the rapper includes a number of spoken word pieces that echo the prose in his now sold out book Off-Piste. The album also features Blah Records' Nah Eeto & Black Josh, as well as DJ Sammy B-Side and Jehst, alongside Brazil’s NOG, Black Alien and Xamã. Baxter reunites with frequent collaborator Chemo on production — now under the moniker Forest DLG — for much of the album, with appearances from Jack Danz, Dr Zygote, Wundrop (CMPMD) and Midlands' electronic stalwart Lenkemz. Despite its diverse credits, tracks are connected by icy, spaced-out electronics with beats twisted through tape distortion and anchored by chest- rattling bass. Baxter began writing the album in Mexico just before the pandemic began while holed up in the city of San Cristobal De Las Casas, Chiapas, as the world shut down. “All the streets were eerily empty and it was amazing. I had the city to myself,” he says. “Then suddenly there was a state- wide alcohol ban and I could no longer casually sip tequila as I went about my business. I didn’t really have a choice but to write” With no alcohol to fuel him, and San Cristobal largely silent, the rapper says he was surprised to find himself in a deeply creative — and prolific – state. “I took to it amazingly well, and I wrote this whole album in three months of clear-headed bliss in the same apartment. I would sit and write all day, and occasionally walk up a mountain when I got stuck ... or go and feed the stray dogs at the church on top of the hill. It was weirdly the most fun I’d had in years.” Fetch the Poison is Baxter’s seventh solo album.

After a year and a half writing and recording rock music, I needed to clear my head. I listened to and made music where things generally happen gradually rather than suddenly. I would set up patches on a Monomachine or Analog Four and listen to them, hearing one sound morph into others, making changes to a patch only after having listened for quite a while, gradually adding elements, and finally manipulating the sounds on the fly. All tracks were recorded live to CD burner, with no overdubs, and executed on one or two machines.

While I was almost exclusively listening to artists such as Chris Watson, Peter Rehberg, Bernard Parmegiani, CM Von Hausswolff, Jana Winderen, Oren Ambarchi, Hazard, Bruce Gilbert, Klara Lewis, Ryoji Ikeda, and so on, I was also inspired by my mental image of John Lennon's tape and mellotron experiments he made at home during his time in the Beatles, as well as events like the first minute of Bowie's Station To Station, ...And The Gods Made Love by Jimi Hendrix, the synths in the song Mass Production by Iggy Pop, and the general idea of Eno's initial concept of Ambient music.

Music being a solitary sculpture in sonic space was the main motivating thought. I was looking at pictures of sculptures and trying to make music that simultaneously conveyed both movement and stillness. I refrained from sudden musical changes, especially avoiding sequences of notes and rhythms. In fact, this music was made from sequences which never exceed a single note, many of these pieces being made on a single pattern. The movement which a good sculptor conveys when the shape of his medium meets the eyes of the viewer who walks around the piece, or the sun changes its position, are the kinds of movement which it was the role of the synth patches to communicate.

I've been listening to music like this since I was 13 or so, but I felt that making it was out of my reach because of the amount of restraint I imagined it required. Once I found myself making this music, it did not feel like a matter of restraint at all. I wanted to build a certain type of building, and hear certain types of movement, and I knew when it was complete. There was no place for sequences of notes and rhythms in my plans.

I also cannot overstate the role that being in my band played. I had previously spent 12 years programming and engineering my own music, and then spent a year and a half making music where my role was basically to write songs and play guitar. When the band's recording phase was completed, I needed to go back to my adopted language. I had done enough with chords, rhythms, notes, defined sections, sharp transitions, etc.. What I needed was to create music from the ground up with nothing but sound, and have that music reflect "being" rather than "doing". It was a therapeutic way of re-balancing myself, before and during my band's mixing process.

This music seeks to just exist, and is not attempting to manipulate or grab the listener in any way. I believe it works well if one listens loud and focuses on it, but also works well at soft volumes and in the background. It can compete with silence on silence's own terms, and it can also happily wipe silence out.

There are two versions of this album. The CD version is pronounced "two" and called : I I . This is the longer version. The vinyl version is pronounced "one", and called . I : This version is shorter, but contains one vinyl-only track. The reason the vinyl is shorter is that some of the tracks have sounds that can not be pressed on vinyl.

John Frusciante

Just a single album and a bunch of singles, rising star Linda Di Franco debuted in 1985 and left the scene all of a sudden in 1986. Her first album was a combined effort produced by Don Was (Blue Note’s Renaissance Music Man and previously leader of post disco combo Was Not Was), a gentle selection of soul-pop ballads and lushy synth arrangements. With leading single ‘My Boss’ the album shows an ethereal continuum with an excellent rendition of Burt Bacharach ‘The Look Of Love’. Recorded in London, Detroit and New York the Rise Of The Heart is definitely a keystone in the rising club culture revolution verging on the more existentialist pop aesthetic. RIYL: Sade, Lizzy Mercier Descloux, Carmel, Antena.