Cerca:sure thing

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

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

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

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

Jos & Eli might seem unknown to many electronic music lovers but they have been releasing great music since 2013. They have been sending me music for a long time and I think we have spend about a year developing this first release on Noir Music, making sure it represented their debut on the label perfectly. When you hear the Adrenaline Hunt release you will notice that the 2 guys from Tel-Aviv have developed into a great production team over the years and these 3 tracks included here are not only cleverly crafted for the deeper dancefloors but can also be enjoyed on home stereo's. Opener 'Obscured Mind' features immense vocal-work by Jinadu and the song is wrapped in delicious and constantly intensified deephouse flavours whereas 'Initiation' has a more tribal, dubby and africanism edge to it. On the title track 'Adrenaline Hunt' which we build the EP aound things get a little more tech, darker and closer to what you would typically expect from Noir Music. Not only am I always excited to have new artists and talents on the label but I feel Jos & Eli bring a new dimension to Noir Music as well.

When we started Ilian Tape 10 years ago in 2007, we were both basically kids at the ages of 23 (Dario) and 18 (Marco). There was no plan behind it, no concept, no promotion campaign or any budget, but just an early vision of where it could go. We wanted to build something that lasts. After a few years of playing at parties and producing music, it was the next logical step to start a label. You can clearly see us growing up through the label in terms of artwork, compiling the records and handling things. We made some mistakes along the way and there are surely things we could have done better, but looking back after 10 years now it all makes sense as it was a natural and human development with all its ups and downs.It was always a very personal project, never about making money, but about creating a platform for music we believe in and building relationships with artists in a transparent and fair way. We really appreciate that we were able to work with so many great artists, who shared the same vision and trusted in us, over all the years. A while ago we moved away from the ordinary release info write ups, because in general writing about music is tricky and who isn't tired of the typical, full of praise for every detail of a record, release textsBut this might be starting to get boring for you too, so just buy this lovely triple vinyl package including a poster and download code, light one up and turn up the volume!One last thing though - we want to deeply thank our parents for teaching us to live our dreams and find out who we really are, our friends for the vibes and honesty, all the artists releasing on the label, all the supporters & fans for buying vinyl and files, all the DJ's playing out the stuff, all the diggers selling the stuff overpriced on Discogs, all the dancers working out on the dancefloors & all the clubs doing label nights over all the years.

A magus is a wizard…a sorcerer. Magus, the band, is certainly interested in such things (who isn’t), but the name is especially apt due to the band’s approach to alchemy, the blending of rock, gothic, proto metal, and psychedelic styles to create a sound that is, ultimately, unique. Part of that uniqueness comes from the instrumentation. While guitar is often a dominant instrument of the rock oeuvre, the Fender Rhodes generally plays a supportive role. Not so here, where Jessica Weeks’ deft use of the keyboard dovetails with Greg Weeks’ more standard six-string approach. Not standard is the band’s sound. Doomy yet inspirational, dour yet vibrant, the duo’s tunes map sinister realms whose subjects span metaphysical creatures to enigmatic portals. You know, the typical stuff that rubs elbows with a magus.

Formed in late 2024, Magus sprung from a desire by both artists to experiment with darker, heavier sounds. Long enamored of artists like Flower Travelling Band,, Black Sabbath, and Deep Purple, the duo delved deeply into trance like riffs and euphoric solos to create the backbone of what has become their debut album, Music for Mandrax. This thirteenth Language of Stone offering features grounded, metronomic grooves, organic, lugubrious synth lines, and tandem vocals (supplied by both Weekses) that, in total, weave a heavy, trancelike spell sure to entice fans of bands as disparate as Sabbath is to Pink Floyd. Recorded at Weeks’ Hexham Head studio (to analog tape, of course), the band enlisted long-time counterparts Jesse Sparhawk (bass) and Ben McConnell (drums) to round out their sound and lock down the grooves that propel the album.

Mixed by Brian McTear and Amy Morrisey at Miner Street in Philadelphia, the band’s fully realized vision came to fruition, which left only the album art to contemplate. The band, wishing to further the gothic aesthetic of their sound, enlisted fashion designer and artist extraordinaire Hogan McLaughlin (Game of Thrones) to create the starkly beautiful line drawings of the front and back covers. The duo travelled to Salem, MA to complete the package with Courtney Brooke Hall, who shot the moody and evocative photographs that grace the gatefold release’s inner panels.

When you name your band Prince Daddy & The Hyena, you sort of accept that chaos isn’t a chapter in your story – it’s the entire ethos. Since forming out of Albany, NY’s DIY scene, Prince Daddy & The Hyena have built a career out of reaching their breaking point and continuing forward anyway. Their first LP, produced by Joe Reinhart, captured a very young band figuring things out in real time; their massive conceptual undertaking Cosmic Thrill Seekers followed and pushed their ambition (and patience) to new extremes. Not long after, a serious van accident nearly took their lives, directly informing the intensity of their self-titled record.

Over the last decade, the band has lost close friends and collaborators, endured relationship struggles, and faced countless moments that would have ended most bands without question. But those experiences never slowed Prince Daddy & The Hyena down. On their upcoming fourth album, Hotwire Trip Switch, they recalibrate and reconnect with their roots while sounding more focused and self-aware than ever. Reuniting with Joe Reinhart for the first time in nearly a decade, the album pulls from the punchy lineage of Green Day, the hook-driven quirk of Weezer, the snarky urgency of Joyce Manor and Jeff Rosenstock – all through the distinctly bratty lens of songwriter and vocalist Kory Gregory.

Bristol experimental band SUGAR HORSE are delighted to announce that their third album, Not A Sound In Heaven, will be released on 10th April 2026 via Fat Dracula Records.

To celebrate the news, the band are sharing the bruising lead single ‘Secret Speech’, available to stream on all good digital service providers from 12th February 2026.

Also announced today are a run of April 2026 UK album headline tour dates and an appearance at StrangeForms Festival 2026, with tickets on sale now (see below for full listings).

“We are fortunate enough to live in what is generally known as ‘The West’,” says front man Ash Tubb of the lyrical themes behind the new track. “I say fortunate with gritted teeth, because I know—as I’m sure the reader knows—that living in the West isn’t always rosy. The vast majority of people struggle everyday to feed, clothe and house themselves. Let alone receive adequate healthcare, schooling and workers’ rights.”

“We are, however, where all the world’s wealth is hoarded. We are at the centre of Empire. The people outside of this empire—those of the Global South—have had their resources extracted and their populations exploited by our own governments, with very little given back in return. This won’t go on forever. It will inevitably end, as all great empires do.”

“We in The West have a choice to make in the meantime; either help create a new, fairer world, or let the greed of our ruling classes become the undoing of all of us.”

The first glimpse of new material from the quartet, ‘Secret Speech’ starts as Not A Sound In Heaven means to go on—a politically-charged wrecking ball of a song that smashes its way through the often unbelievable chaos and brutality of the 21st century with vitriolic malice.

How do you capture the machinations of the geo-political industrial war machine—and all the horrors that go with it—in the studio, without seeming trite or crass? That’s the question that Sugar Horse have posed themselves on their forthcoming third album Not A Sound In Heaven, and they must surely be one of the only bands in existence capable of delivering on just that premise with both musical substance and cutting philosophical insight.

“Ever since I was born I can remember visions of war, famine, and death being beamed directly into my living room via the magic of television,” says Tubb of the record. “These visions were accompanied by newsreader narratives designed to either humanise or dehumanise the people involved. We humanise our government’s allies and dehumanise their enemies. This is taken as common sense, or even wisdom to some degree. People watch the news and accept it as fact, simple and true.”

“As a person gets older they move in one of three different directions with this acceptance of reality; They embrace what they’re being told, they fall into a kind of trust free nihilism or they learn that there are deeper narratives at play.”

“Not A Sound In Heaven is an aged acceptance of the latter. An acceptance of sitting at the centre of a global empire of both military and economic dimensions. An acceptance that the stories we’re told as a nation, or what’s generally in the zeitgeist, isn’t necessarily reality itself.”

“How does a person cope with the weight—and, frankly, the guilt—of a society that perpetuates such distinct inequalities? A society that thinks a bit of killing abroad is fine, as long as it improves the lives of people at home. You can see why so many choose to embrace it. Hell, nihilism seems pretty sensible. Once a person decides upon pursuing a degree of truth however, things get a bit depressing. Beyond depressing...maddening.”

“This album explores this kind of breezy, frivolous subject matter in a manner that will no doubt be uplifting to the listener and massively financially rewarding for the artist.”

The new album follows on from their standalone AA single ‘What’s Your ETA? Let’s Have A Tear Up’/‘Would You Like Me To Be The Cat?’ which was released late last year as a surprise double drop.

Somewhere close to Manchester’s ever changing city centre, as the sun fades and peeks through the newest glass facade, you’ll find Shaking Hand. One part in shadow, the other basking in prisms of light as they sketch out their own sonic landscapes in the dusty redbrick mill they call home. One that is just about clinging on from the encroaching developments that surround them.

Against this back-drop where buildings are constantly torn down & built back again, the three piece craft away. Pulling from early post-rock, and 90s US alternative rock, crafting their own brand of Northwest-emo. Assembling something new, yet nostalgic. Looking ahead towards the transforming horizon. Shaking Hand’s music is built on tension and release – quiets that stretch, louds that overwhelm. Repetition that feels both hypnotic and destabilising.

The band’s musical DNA runs through experimental guitar outfits like Women, Slint, Sonic Youth, Pavement, and Ulrika Spacek, balanced with the melodic sensibility of Big Thief and the dynamic intimacy of Yo La Tengo. Their compositions push against structure: sudden jolts of tempo, polyrhythms that almost fall apart, and riffs that unravel into something fragile or ecstatic. Yet, as Ellis notes, there’s an underlying warmth too: “Like walking through an empty city late at night but catching flickers of life in the buildings you pass.”

Early ideas like ‘Night Owl’ and ‘Sundance’ grew out of George’s lockdown “bedroom years,” where new tunings (open E, drop D, and stranger Pavement-inspired set-ups) opened up uncharted textures. Later, in grim rehearsal rooms, the murky epic ‘Cable Ties’ and the hypnotic ‘Mantras’ absorbed the gloom and grit of the band’s surroundings.

The album was recorded with producer David Pye (Wild Beasts, Teenage Fanclub) at Nave Studios in Leeds, housed in a converted church. “The live room was huge and perfect for capturing our sound,” says George. Determined to bottle their onstage energy, the band tracked the foundations live, layering vocals and guitars later. Soviet-era microphones, odd mic placements, and even phone-recorded demos fed into the mix. “You’ve got to watch out for David though,” Freddie laughs. “He made me play four tambourines in one hand, really hurt, man.”

Lyrically, the record drifts between abstraction and lived moments. George’s words often spill out instinctively, words falling into place before their meaning becomes clear. “A lot of the lyrics look like they’re buried in abstraction,” he says, “but when I look back I can see what they were about — whether that’s an emotional response at the time or just an observation of what was happening around me”. There’s contrast at the heart of it all – optimism vs. doubt, the lightness of youth vs. the monotony of work, a city in constant redevelopment vs. the people drifting through it.

The album artwork is taken from unused plans for the 1970s redevelopment of Los Angeles by architect Ray Kappe, entitled ‘People Movers’. Hypothetical buildings for real people, it feels a complement to the band’s own constructions. One thing’s for sure, Shaking Hand’s debut is built to last.

Salix is a bold new departure for modular synthesist Loula Yorke, seen here using an antique reed organ to explore the ancient roots of willow trees in magic, myth and medicine, as well as inviting another musician into her recording studio for the first time, clarinettist Charlotte Jolly.

The EP forms a sonic archive of a singular instrument: an antique free reed organ left behind by a previous encumbent of Asylum Studios, (the artists' co-operative in Suffolk where Yorke's Truxalis labelmate and life collaborator, Seiche, has a studio space). The organ is in poor condition and fascinatingly, painfully detuned. Yorke's recordings bring out its host of unusual quirks exacerbated by age and neglect: the powerful rhythmic creaking of the wooden treadles; the bone-shaking resonance emanating from its body at specific pitches; unexpected exclamations of harmonic collision from within the carcass redolent of a human voice; the piercing, shrieking whistles of broken reeds, and the powerful timbres unlocked via Yorke's experiments with various combinations of stops.

The three tracks that form Salix are inspired by a local weeping willow tree, a constant companion photographed over the course of a year. Boughs caught in a gyre. A maiden in mourning. Branches that gesture in the wrong direction. A tree turned upside down. A hand-woven willow basket, an old technology to gather and store. The journey of a lovelorn bard through the underworld, a bundle of willow under one arm for protection.

For the opening track, The Carrier Bag Theory of Fiction, Yorke recorded herself playing a simple unaccompanied improvisation on the organ, the only ornamentation being the processed sounds of the keys being struck and returning to their positions.

For Bundle of Styx, a spell of protection is cast and then broken. Yorke invited virtuoso clarinettist Charlotte Jolly into the studio to test combining the breathy textures of both brass and natural reeds, the instruments uniting and obsuring each other in turn during this one-take improvisation. The organ's unpredictable sharpened tunings take centre stage here, with Jolly using them as a point of departure to conjure a set of peerless harmonic improvisations live in the moment. Throughout the improvisation, Yorke, a self-taught musician, unpracticed on the organ, supports and challenges, freely admitting that she's not always sure what effect her decisions to move up and down the keyboard or pull out certain stops will have. Jolly's genius lies in her ability to meet and build on every uncertain pitch thrown her way, saying of the experience, "I love that Loula isn't classically trained, I can't predict at all what she's about to do."

For the final track, With the Red Dawn, Yorke has come up with another unique combination of textures, this time bringing her own specialism in modular synthesis to the fore. A ten-minute reed organ drone characterised with ever-shifting bass swells and overtones is layered with tuned sines, often shudderingly wave-folded, that ebb and flow both in intensity and harmonic colour according to the duty cycles of eight interrelated LFOs. These recordings are collaged with Yorke's singing voice and a langorous, ascending sequence across two octaves on Jolly's clarinet, all arranged to form a cohesive whole far greater than the sum of its parts. Smatterings of untuned percussion and a fragment of a conversation between the duo left in the final mix cements Yorke's unprecious DIY aesthetic into the release.

At its heart, Salix is like watching the wind in the willows; hundreds of thousands of identical tiny leaves moving in confluence on its branches; at once one thing and many things; moment-to-moment our perception makes out different individuals parts within this expanse of texture, before sinking back into the whole.

Motown Records: The Supremes, Stevie Wonder, The Miracles, Marvin Gaye, Martha Reeves and The Vandelas and, of course, The Temptations. It is antithetical to mention any of those without the others. The community of artists started as the Sound of Young America, but as history has proven, it became the sound, the look and the inspiration of so much more. And now, little nuggets of Motown's influence can be found the world over. David Ruffin, founding member of Motown superstars The Temptations, went on to become a successful solo artist even after he left the group. In 1969, Ruffin released two fantastic solo records, My Whole World Ended and Feelin' Good. Between 1970 and 1971 he recorded what was to be his third long playing solo record. However, his career was suddenly put on hold when Motown, for reasons unclear, shelved the album that had been dubbed David. The record had even been assigned a catalog number and final artwork. Ruffin returned in 1973 with a brand new LP titled David Ruffin (treated officially as his third LP) and the previously recorded album David sat on the shelves, unheard for decades. This deluxe 2xLP set features the original, rare David LP, plus an LP of bonus tracks and mono single mixes all packaged in a beautiful gatefold jacket, featuring extensive liner notes and striking color photographs of Ruffin. His red and yellow suede suit featured in the interior gatefold LP jacket is an absolute must-see! The record was cut and pressed at Third Man's Detroit HQ, just a couple miles away from the original Motown HQ. For the first time ever on vinyl, Third Man is proud to present the essential, true third LP from the Temptations' mighty David Ruffin.

What's the first thing you think of when someone mentions Thee Oh Sees? Probably their riot-sparking live show, right? Visions of a guitar-chewing, melody-maiming John Dwyer careening across your cranium, rounded out by a wild-eyed wrecking crew that drives every last hook home like it's a nail in the coffin of what you thought it meant to make 21st-century rock 'n' roll? Yeah, that sounds about right. But it misses a more important point-how impossible Thee Oh Sees have been to pin down since Dwyer launched the project in the late '90s as a solo break from such sorely missed underground bands as Pink and Brown and Coachwhips. (While Dwyer still records songs on his own, Thee Oh Sees is now a five-piece featuring keyboardist / singer Brigid Dawson, guitarist Petey Dammit, drummer Mike Shoun and multi-instrumentalist / singer Lars Finberg.) That restlessness extends to everything from the towering, thirteen-minute title track of 2010's Warm Smile LP to the mercurial moods of 2008's The Master's Bedroom Is Worth Spending a Night In. Now, Thee Oh Sees chase the home-brewed symphonies of Castlemania with the scrappy, high-wire hooks of Carrion Crawler / The Dream. Originally envisioned as two EPs, it was cut live to tape in less than a week at Chris Woodhouse's Sacramento studio in June, reflecting the battering-ram bent of the band's live show better than any bootleg ever could. "As I'm sure most would agree," explains Dwyer, "Castlemania was more of a vocal tirade. This one's meant to pummel and throb." That it does, whether one blasts the slow, speaker-bruising build of "The Dream," the sunburnt organs and dovetailing guitars of "Crack in Your Eye" or the interstellar instrumental "Chem-Farmer," a perfect example of what happens when one takes a well-oiled machine-a gang of rabid road warriors, really-and adds a second, groove-locked drum set to the mix. To listen is to realize that Dwyer's music is as manic as the underground comic inclinations of his artwork; colorful and confusing in a way that's more than welcome. It's downright refreshing, like a slap in the face at 5:00 in the morning. Or, as Dwyer puts it, "You have to leave a mark somehow."

Sundays is the debut full length from Oakland-based Tanukichan, aka multi-instrumentalist Hannah van Loon. At surface level, the album sounds just how the title describes: hazy, dreamy, reflective, just like a lazy Sunday afternoon. Upon second and third listens, the dreamy music unveils a deeper world: an ever present sense of longing, an endless state of summer and a period of instability that plagues us all at one point or another in our lives.
Raised in San Francisco, van Loon started out making classical, bluegrass and jazz music as well as playing in numerous bands in the area before deciding to make something more personal. What started with a few unfocused demos, with van Loon playing all the instruments herself in her house, became a studio experience and viable collection of music after her friend Anthony Ferraro of Astronauts, Etc. introduced her to Company Records founder Chaz Bear (Toro Y Moi, Les Sins). After collaborating on her 2016 EP Radiolove, van Loon and Bear set out to make a much more sonically cohesive release, with both the producer and artist playing all the instruments on the record. The result is a slice of dream pop that could only come from the combination of the laid back atmosphere of California and the nostalgic and often difficult memories that are generally associated with coming of age.
To van Loon, the tracks of Sundays are a form of contemplation and approaching life’s issues from a different and less complicated perspective. “Sometimes for me, it feels easier to write songs about things than to talk. A lot of things in life are layered and paradoxical, but with songs it always seems simpler.”
Opening track “Lazy Love” sets the stage, sonically and lyrically, for the rest of the album, combining vulnerable lyrics with gorgeous, fuzzy tones. Above pummeling synths and guitar tones, van Loon sings “you know I'd do anything/don't you know I try my best/if I could wake up when the sun is rising” showing the album’s constant theme of balancing always wanting to be the best person you can be, while also feeling a low level joy at letting life play out as it wants to. “Natural” is a track that feels perfect for a road trip, a track that hums away with a driving beat, culminating in the sheer excitement of finally having a night alone with someone you’ve loved for a while, among many highs and lows: “a window too bright/it's natural sunlight/grey fades to white lie/kiss you tonight/it's natural delight/help me feel right.” The tracks collectively address a deep rooted sense of yearning for someone, something new, while also feeling content with your life; a realization that maybe the places you’ve always belonged aren’t where you should be anymore, that suddenly you might be looking for something completely different.
“I settled on the name Sundays as the title of the record because it encapsulated how the record felt to me,“ van Loon says. “I was thinking about the laziness, and dreamy clarity that you can feel after a late night, waking up having to face the world with a new perspective.” Sundays encapsulates this feeling, a nostalgic way of looking at the world, waking up feeling like a slightly different person than before, looking back on life, not sure if you can tackle what’s next, but doing your best, day in and day out

“From Birmingham and centred around the extraordinary songwriting talent of James and Patrick Roberts – initially as The Sea Urchins and since 1993 as Delta – they’ve only just got round to releasing their debut album, Slippin’ Out. It is a work of some beauty”. 9/10 NME ALBUM OF THE MONTH, 2000

“It’s classicist for sure, shot through with the influence of The Beatles, Byrds and Buffalo Springfield. In James’ downright beautiful closing ballad ‘I Want You’ one can also discern the school of ambitious English balladry that peaked in about 1968: The Casuals, Love Affair, Barry Ryan. The impression of accomplished old-schoolery is only furthered by the dizzying string arrangements penned by Louis Clark Jnr, son and namesake of the one-time orchestral chief of Electric Light Orchestra” – Mojo lead review, 2000


Having ended the 90s with the spirited ‘Laughing Mostly’ compilation of singles and demos (Guardian Album Of The Week) Delta finally released their debut studio album of twelve songs in the summer of 2000 on the Dishy Recordings label. Accepting that this might be their sole studio album the band threw everything at these recordings allowing it to exist in its own sphere, unbothered by their contemporary generation and disregarding the idea of even releasing a single.

Recorded at DEP International there was a notable difference to the scruffier, looser charm of their 1990s recordings, a tighter focus developed by having the experienced Lenny Franchi mixing the LP with them. Lenny had been working with a number of Island artists including My Bloody Valentine and Tricky so knew his way around a desk. There was also the question of budget (a few months passed between recording and mixing whilst funds were raised) so every day counted. Ultimately though you can hear the joy in the recordings, even amongst the melancholy and angst. As James recently recalled in an interview in Shindig! Magazine: “It was such a big deal for us. It’s one of my fondest memories doing that record. Everyone was happy. If there’s anything that I’d stand by, I think it would be that”

Louis Clark Jr joined the band towards the end of the ‘90s and brought a classically-trained element to the recordings particularly with his string arrangements. For ‘Cuckoo’, ‘I Want You’ and the prophetic ‘We Come Back’ Louis brought in eight players from the Birmingham Conservatoire; the baroque style is partly why the record often receives comparisons to Love’s ‘Forever Changes’.

On release ‘Slippin’ Out’ was a big favourite with writers at the NME, Mojo and The Guardian again and before long the band were signed to Mercury/Universal for their second studio album ‘Hard Light’, a far more expensive and expansive love affair. It was a temporary palatial home where things quietly fell apart again, but that’s another chapter.

“If long-term memory is nothing more than selective editing and only pop’s most weighty visceral works are built to last then it’s quite possible that in 50 years the Britpop era will be best recollected for the two bands it ostracised. Earlier this year we met Shack and thought their story of mercurial brilliance indicated the biggest music biz oversight of the 90s. We were wrong because we hadn’t met Delta yet. This is richer and more engrossing than anything by Shack” 

Volcanic Sun Vinyl, limited to 500 copies. The Berlin-based power trio once more is driving their musical WEDGE in between many different genres: Garage rock turns progressive while psychedelic guitar lines are tripping over hard rocking riffs. Does this work together? Hell yes! For fans of Deep Purple, MC5, Led Zeppelin or Humble Pie this album is a sure shot. You like fuzz guitars? Hammond organ and vocals trough a swirling Leslie cabinet? More cowbell? You got it. But unlike our beloved rock records from around 1971, which we've heard a hundred times before "Like No Tomorrow" has one huge advantage: It's brand new and the 8 tracks, ranging from 3:00 to 9:00 minutes, deliver a fresh, unspent and unmistakably unique taste to the rock'n'roll menu. In the tradition of bands like The Raconteurs, The Hellacopters, Graveyard or Wolfmother, WEDGE are building on that vintage vibe we all know and love but evolve their very own thing and are able to connect it directly to here and now.

Intricate structures with an intertwining of spontaneity and randomness, meeting the diverse genre influences of the band members from mediaeval music to shoegaze to noise. That is Unravel, the new album, and first in six years, from Czech band Manon Meurt.
"Unravel reflects the different stages of dissociation, a person's thoughts, observations - whether of the environment or of oneself - and admiration for the beauty and cruelty that nature mirrors," multi-instrumentalist and lyricist Kateřina Elznicová says of the album.
Produced by Eddie Stevens (Freakpower, Zero 7, Moloko, Roisin Murphy) the album was pieced together from recorded fragments, meticulously pieced together. The title Unravel refers to the development of the band, unravelling what they are to find the full potential of their music as well as uncovering the layered nature of the songs and emotions.
"Eddie Stevens’ approach to recording was a big surprise. We understood that there was no one right version of the songs. Each of our themes carries a certain energy that can manifest and blossom in many ways. Compared to previous records, the vision of each member was much more evident, while we learned not to cling to our individual ideas of a signifying break or a nu-metal bounce at the end of an ambient song. The main thing was a common concept," adds keyboardist David Tichý on creating the seven songs on the record.
Abum producer Eddie Stevens describes the collaboration, “Each album is an adventure. You do some preparation, check the route over and over, prepare for any eventuality that your packing space and imagination will allow, plan some places to stop and rest en route, places to eat, sleep, then consider the challenges - the ice wall, the summit, even just finding your way in foreign land. But despite all that planning, you can never really say for sure what’s going to happen, what unexpected path you might take, what strangers might invite you in for a cup of tea and to what ends. So it was making Unravel with Manon Meurt and engineer and studio owner Lukas Martinek at Svárov studios and of course back home in the relative safety of my studio. Musicians who quickly became friends showed me more than I showed them, people with ideas, with creativity seeping from their pores. Music making the right way: no blinkers, no walls, no preconceptions, no barriers, no rules. What a pleasure, and what a magical, technicoloured,
kaleidoscopic album we’ve made together, “
The combination of industrial material with plant motifs in the work Untitled_1 by Ukrainian artist Liza Libenko, which adorns the cover of Unravel, strongly attracted the band. After all, floral motifs have always been close to Manon Meurt's music. Libenko, a student of the Academy of Fine Arts and a finalist of the prestigious Austrian Strabag Artaward International Prize, has recently been working on overcoming the narrative boundaries of the canvas, the paintings "attack"the viewer. Sunflowers are a powerful symbol of life and the sun; in Libenko's paintings they are black and burnt, serving as an allegory for contemporary conditions. The work was photographed by photographer and artist Marcel Rozhoň, and the final processing of the Unravel album was done by graphic artist Zuzana Malá.

Miguel's breakout debut album, ‘All I Want Is You,’ makes its long-awaited vinyl debut, pressed on bold red opaque vinyl. Featuring R&B staples like "Sure Thing", "All I Want Is You", "Girl With the Tattoo Enter. lewd," and more.

2025 Transparant Magenta vinyl

Our personal mental health worker Reedale Rise is serving us his sweet medical blend of high hanging fruits. Making sure to keep La Familia Frustrada from going insane..

The Swedish underground legends return with a brand new album. Let this reddit user take over …
“Listening to Brainbombs has been one of my weirdest experiences with music. Brainbombs are most definitely a band. I guess at the core they’re a hardcore punk/noise rock hybrid I guess? But… It's so unlike anything I’ve ever heard and I still don’t know if it's good or bad. I saw the edgelord Ed Gein album cover, and it intrigued me, so I listened to their biggest song and it was easily THE WORST thing I had EVER FUCKING HEARD. I shut it off as soon as it got to the vocals. I was shocked by the fact that it had almost a half million streams. But, a few hours later, I clicked on it again and didn’t know why.
Over the past few days, I’ve listened to all of their discography and looped a lot of it. And I don’t even think I like them. The music is abysmal, it's the same single riff and verse repeating for 5 minutes. To make it worse, the vocals are just a guy with a swedish accent awkwardly talking about murder and rape. That sounds awful right? It is awful. But at the same time I want to keep listening? It’s so childishly edgy and obnoxiously repetitive but so.. intriguing? Catchy? I’m not even sure. It's one of if not the weirdest experience I’ve ever had with music and I don’t know how to feel about it.”

James Brown wants to know one thing before he and his band begin Sex Machine. “Can I get into the thing, really?,” he asks. His cohorts enthusiastically respond in the affirmative. And for the next hour and change, Mr. Dynamite gets into it and more, turning in a sweat-soaked, feet-moving, hip-swiveling, emotion-purging, in-the-red, drop-everything-you’re-doing-and-dance performance for the ages. Ranked by Rolling Stone among the 500 Greatest Albums of All Time, the sweeping 1970 effort towers as a testament to Brown’s inimitable legacy as well as the peak powers of his voice, vibrancy, and bands.

Sourced from the original master tapes, pressed at Fidelity Record Pressing, and housed in a Stoughton gatefold jacket, Mobile Fidelity’s numbered-edition 180g 33RPM 2LP set presents Sex Machine in audiophile sound for the first time. It explodes with the energy the lightning-strike music demands. Dynamic, immediate, present, airy: Everything from the brassiness and fluidity of the horns to the snap and decay of the snare to the swell and carry of the organ comes across in full-range perspective.

Then there’s Brown’s superhuman singing, which here emerges with a purity, naturalism, and transparency that ensure you feel everything. Screeching, shouting, pleading, moaning, preaching, stinging, commanding, testifying, crooning, humming: The Godfather of Soul contributes one of the finest vocal performances known to man. This definitive 55th anniversary reissue of Brown’s monster funk statement further exhibits a combination of clarity, solidity, separation, and imaging that helps bring to light what he and his crack ensembles committed to tape. Both in the studio and on the stage.

Just how lifelike does this reissue sound? Senior Mobile Fidelity Sound Lab engineer Krieg Wunderlich, who handled the remaster, notes: “There were some artifacts that sounded a bit like mistracking. But they turned out to be breath blasts on the vocal microphone. That is part of history. JB was workin' hard, and breathin' hard. And there was an edit the timing of that was truly strange. Again, a part of history.”

Originally marketed as a live album, Sex Machine contains six songs recorded in the studio and later overdubbed with canned crowd noise and reverberation. Save for “Low Down Popcorn,” the tracks on the latter half stem from a phenomenal performance captured in October 1969 at Bell Auditorium in Brown’s adopted hometown of Augusta, GA. The special relationship between the singer, the audience, and the location is palpable.

As the 1960s gave way to a new decade, Brown experienced immense success and dealt with unexpected change. Soul Brother Number One soon expanded his idea for an official live album captured in Augusta when the ensemble that backed him on that date morphed into the original version of the world-famous J.B.’s just months after the show. The virtuosic abilities, sticky chemistry, and rhythm-forward nature of the J.B.’s prompted him to book a one-off session in Cincinnati, OH, on a late July night.

Anchored by brothers William “Bootsy” Collins and Phelps “Catfish” Collins, the group — as well as two different drummers — laid down a nearly 11-minute rendition of “Get Up I Feel Like Being Like a Sex Machine” and a thrilling medley of “Bewildered,” “I Got the Feeling,” and “Give It Up or Turnit a Loose.” A pair of then-recent studio singles cut in separate locations in 1969, “Brother Rapp” and “Low Down Popcorn,” each featuring his prior group, took care of the second LP worth of material that complements the originally planned live set.

Complicated? Somewhat. Unusual? Definitely. But just as he elevated the expectations for all present and future R&B artists, Brown not only makes it all work. He makes it positively electrifying.

“Get Up I Feel Like Being Like a Sex Machine” is alone deserving of a dissertation on the art of funk music, seeing it moves up and down akin to an oil derrick, witnesses Brown unleashing a trademark series of grunts, squeaks, and “good god” asides, and glides to a hypnotic groove that won’t quit. Or look to the syncopated rhythms of “Brother Rapp (Part I and Part II),” one of multiple pieces here that signify the point where Brown began viewing every instrument as a percussive tool. Brown closes the three-song medley with his new band with a skedaddling “Give It Up or Turnit a Loose,” which provides jolts on the order of sticking your finger into a socket.

Not that the actual live material falls short in any way. Setting an insistent tempo for the vitality that follows, “I Don’t Want Nobody to Give Me Nothing” positions Brown as a role model, leader, and self-sufficient entrepreneur. All simmer and boil, the short and sweet “Licking Stick” dares you to keep pace. The floating, almost comforting “Spinning Wheel” spotlights the instrumental prowess of Maceo Parker and company, and functions as a seamless segue into the tender, horn-saluted “If I Ruled the World.”

And Brown and his mates still aren’t done. Just try to resist the one-two closing punch of “I Can’t Stand Myself (When You Touch Me)” and “Mother Popcorn.” Mercy.

Ain’t it funky? Sure ‘nuff.