Buscar:sweet light

Kneading dough is tricky – you should know how it’s supposed to feel. If you try too hard you could make it worse. It’s a beautiful practice – creation with a gentle touch, to work at something so it can be left alone. “If it’s too drawn out it’s awful. It’s easy to give too much.” Dance in the mirror. Contemplate your veiny hands. Who do they remind you of?

You begin by mixing flour and water. “What happens when your people die? Why’d they move the rock to the other side of Ulster Park?” Eliza Niemi asks two seemingly unrelated questions in a rising melody with guitar accompaniment, like fingers playing spider up to the nape of your neck. Gentle pressure. Strands of gluten form to bind the mix. A new question lingers in the binding. When she admits “but I don’t know how to tell if I’m feeling it or not,” that question surfaces through the text. It is reiterated throughout the album. When I’m working with dough I think the same thing to myself.

On Progress Bakery, her second album as a solo artist, Eliza knows to leave some questions alone – to let juxtaposition and tension be the proof. It doesn’t have to be hard. The feelings and revelations they provoke rise in the heat. The smell is sweet. Crispy on the outside and soft all the way through. She playfully slip-slides through words and sounds and images, delighting in surprise, skimming ideas like stones cast across clear water, touching down briefly with uncommon grace.

The question provoked between those opening lines resurfaces in the strands between songs – “Do U FM” is fully formed and beautifully layered, while “Novelist Sad Face” is a short, acapella rendering of gentle curiosity. What is holding these ideas together? Some songs demand more, seem to carry a whole load – eventually the skipping stone will halt to sink and resume its idle duty – while others drift in and out of focus, the way thoughts and dreams become interwoven before the mind is sunk into true sleep.

Music and words don’t always have to interact. Where she decides to keep them apart gives a new contour to where and how she puts them together. The kind of thing you’re supposed to take for granted with songs and their singers comes alive in Eliza’s hands – the little miracle of mixing, kneading, stretching, and stopping.

So often on Progress Bakery, Eliza teases out truth and meaning by asking questions. “Do I wanna be crying?” “Do you want me good or do you want me bad?” “Do I need an eye test?” “I’m writing songs in my head while you’re going over stuff with me — is that cruel??” In “Pocky” Eliza ends with a question that feels to me like the actual biography, succinct and revealing:

I don’t wanna be made to see
I just wanna ask “what’s that?”

Grace that ought to be rare, but in its care and precision is offered humbly, with great generosity, and without announcing itself. Eliza’s simple, miraculous music is given further form and shape by a group of collaborators – invaluable guest musicians Jeremy Ray, Evan Cartwright, Steven McPhail, Kenny Boothby, Ed Squires, Carolina Chauffe, Dorothea Paas, Louie Short, and Avalon Tassonyi. Together with Louie Short, who recorded, mixed, and produced the album along with Jeremy Ray and Lukas Cheung, Eliza has cultivated a richness in sound and texture that prods and provokes the ticklish ear. Barely audible guitar tinkering, a brief lo-fi field recording of trumpets, the harmonic clicking of a looped synthesizer, a flourish of reeds, a child’s conversation, each uncanny sound perfectly placed, rippling out under a soft breeze.

Lay in bed alone at night and ask aloud to the stillness,

“What were you doing at the Albuquerque Airport?
What were you doing there??”

And hear your question answered by a dream of swelling, undulating cellos. Try to grasp at the melody and structure. It’s not an answer (if there could be one), but it moves deeper, closer to the weird layer of fleeting moments and disconnected images, barely perceptible at its core. Wait for the dream reel to click into place.

Eliza took me for a ride in Nicole (her beloved Dodge Grand Caravan) and told me she’d been thinking of the album as an embodiment of transition – and I think every transition, known or unknown, carries the weight of new meaning, skittering off the surface tension of life as you know it, creating ripples, sometimes bouncing off and sometimes breaking through. There is a trick you can use to tell if a dough is glutinous enough. You’re supposed to stretch it out as thin as you can without breaking it and hold it up to the light. If you can see through, even if it renders the world murky and uncertain, you should leave it alone. I love this trick. It’s one that Eliza seems to know intuitively: work gently and ask questions and don’t always expect answers, and when you can, take a glimpse at something new, and then leave.

Kneading dough is tricky – you should know how it’s supposed to feel. If you try too hard you could make it worse. It’s a beautiful practice – creation with a gentle touch, to work at something so it can be left alone. “If it’s too drawn out it’s awful. It’s easy to give too much.” Dance in the mirror. Contemplate your veiny hands. Who do they remind you of?

You begin by mixing flour and water. “What happens when your people die? Why’d they move the rock to the other side of Ulster Park?” Eliza Niemi asks two seemingly unrelated questions in a rising melody with guitar accompaniment, like fingers playing spider up to the nape of your neck. Gentle pressure. Strands of gluten form to bind the mix. A new question lingers in the binding. When she admits “but I don’t know how to tell if I’m feeling it or not,” that question surfaces through the text. It is reiterated throughout the album. When I’m working with dough I think the same thing to myself.

On Progress Bakery, her second album as a solo artist, Eliza knows to leave some questions alone – to let juxtaposition and tension be the proof. It doesn’t have to be hard. The feelings and revelations they provoke rise in the heat. The smell is sweet. Crispy on the outside and soft all the way through. She playfully slip-slides through words and sounds and images, delighting in surprise, skimming ideas like stones cast across clear water, touching down briefly with uncommon grace.

The question provoked between those opening lines resurfaces in the strands between songs – “Do U FM” is fully formed and beautifully layered, while “Novelist Sad Face” is a short, acapella rendering of gentle curiosity. What is holding these ideas together? Some songs demand more, seem to carry a whole load – eventually the skipping stone will halt to sink and resume its idle duty – while others drift in and out of focus, the way thoughts and dreams become interwoven before the mind is sunk into true sleep.

Music and words don’t always have to interact. Where she decides to keep them apart gives a new contour to where and how she puts them together. The kind of thing you’re supposed to take for granted with songs and their singers comes alive in Eliza’s hands – the little miracle of mixing, kneading, stretching, and stopping.

So often on Progress Bakery, Eliza teases out truth and meaning by asking questions. “Do I wanna be crying?” “Do you want me good or do you want me bad?” “Do I need an eye test?” “I’m writing songs in my head while you’re going over stuff with me — is that cruel??” In “Pocky” Eliza ends with a question that feels to me like the actual biography, succinct and revealing:

I don’t wanna be made to see
I just wanna ask “what’s that?”

Grace that ought to be rare, but in its care and precision is offered humbly, with great generosity, and without announcing itself. Eliza’s simple, miraculous music is given further form and shape by a group of collaborators – invaluable guest musicians Jeremy Ray, Evan Cartwright, Steven McPhail, Kenny Boothby, Ed Squires, Carolina Chauffe, Dorothea Paas, Louie Short, and Avalon Tassonyi. Together with Louie Short, who recorded, mixed, and produced the album along with Jeremy Ray and Lukas Cheung, Eliza has cultivated a richness in sound and texture that prods and provokes the ticklish ear. Barely audible guitar tinkering, a brief lo-fi field recording of trumpets, the harmonic clicking of a looped synthesizer, a flourish of reeds, a child’s conversation, each uncanny sound perfectly placed, rippling out under a soft breeze.

Lay in bed alone at night and ask aloud to the stillness,

“What were you doing at the Albuquerque Airport?
What were you doing there??”

And hear your question answered by a dream of swelling, undulating cellos. Try to grasp at the melody and structure. It’s not an answer (if there could be one), but it moves deeper, closer to the weird layer of fleeting moments and disconnected images, barely perceptible at its core. Wait for the dream reel to click into place.

Eliza took me for a ride in Nicole (her beloved Dodge Grand Caravan) and told me she’d been thinking of the album as an embodiment of transition – and I think every transition, known or unknown, carries the weight of new meaning, skittering off the surface tension of life as you know it, creating ripples, sometimes bouncing off and sometimes breaking through. There is a trick you can use to tell if a dough is glutinous enough. You’re supposed to stretch it out as thin as you can without breaking it and hold it up to the light. If you can see through, even if it renders the world murky and uncertain, you should leave it alone. I love this trick. It’s one that Eliza seems to know intuitively: work gently and ask questions and don’t always expect answers, and when you can, take a glimpse at something new, and then leave.

'001-015' is a "best of" compilation celebrating the first 15 sample packs made by Frollen Music Library. Launching in late 2021, the sample house has since been featured in productions by ScHoolboy Q, Leon Thomas, Devin Malik and more. This retrospective "best of" traverses a wide range of styles and moods to appeal to every music enthusiast as well as producers and songwriters alike. Whether it's bouncing Hip Hop beats or evocative cinematic etudes, FML's 3- piece house band, comprising Henry Jenkins, Darvid Thor and Hudson Whitlock have a deep love and respect for many musical styles. FML'sdiverse catalogue takes cues from the 'Third Stream' composer David Axelrod, as well as drawing upon cinematic themes from 60's and 70's Italian film score composers a la Ennio Morricone and Riz Ortolani. There are 90's New York boom bap beats, as well as synthesiser music inspired by Tonto, , utilising a locally made synthesiser from Melbourne Instruments. Jenkins, Thor and Whitlock have been playing in bands and producing music for their local music scene for the last 15 years. Recording and performing with The Cactus Channel, Karate Boogaloo, Mo'Ju, Surprise Chef and many many more. Not only is this brand-new LP a great musical collage worthy of any music library enthusiast, but also functions as a tremendous sampler demonstrating the many styles of FML. Fast, slow, sweet AND sour!

'001-015' is a "best of" compilation celebrating the first 15 sample packs made by Frollen Music Library. Launching in late 2021, the sample house has since been featured in productions by ScHoolboy Q, Leon Thomas, Devin Malik and more. This retrospective "best of" traverses a wide range of styles and moods to appeal to every music enthusiast as well as producers and songwriters alike. Whether it's bouncing Hip Hop beats or evocative cinematic etudes, FML's 3- piece house band, comprising Henry Jenkins, Darvid Thor and Hudson Whitlock have a deep love and respect for many musical styles. FML'sdiverse catalogue takes cues from the 'Third Stream' composer David Axelrod, as well as drawing upon cinematic themes from 60's and 70's Italian film score composers a la Ennio Morricone and Riz Ortolani. There are 90's New York boom bap beats, as well as synthesiser music inspired by Tonto, , utilising a locally made synthesiser from Melbourne Instruments. Jenkins, Thor and Whitlock have been playing in bands and producing music for their local music scene for the last 15 years. Recording and performing with The Cactus Channel, Karate Boogaloo, Mo'Ju, Surprise Chef and many many more. Not only is this brand-new LP a great musical collage worthy of any music library enthusiast, but also functions as a tremendous sampler demonstrating the many styles of FML. Fast, slow, sweet AND sour!

Kneading dough is tricky – you should know how it’s supposed to feel. If you try too hard you could make it worse. It’s a beautiful practice – creation with a gentle touch, to work at something so it can be left alone. “If it’s too drawn out it’s awful. It’s easy to give too much.” Dance in the mirror. Contemplate your veiny hands. Who do they remind you of?

You begin by mixing flour and water. “What happens when your people die? Why’d they move the rock to the other side of Ulster Park?” Eliza Niemi asks two seemingly unrelated questions in a rising melody with guitar accompaniment, like fingers playing spider up to the nape of your neck. Gentle pressure. Strands of gluten form to bind the mix. A new question lingers in the binding. When she admits “but I don’t know how to tell if I’m feeling it or not,” that question surfaces through the text. It is reiterated throughout the album. When I’m working with dough I think the same thing to myself.

On Progress Bakery, her second album as a solo artist, Eliza knows to leave some questions alone – to let juxtaposition and tension be the proof. It doesn’t have to be hard. The feelings and revelations they provoke rise in the heat. The smell is sweet. Crispy on the outside and soft all the way through. She playfully slip-slides through words and sounds and images, delighting in surprise, skimming ideas like stones cast across clear water, touching down briefly with uncommon grace.

The question provoked between those opening lines resurfaces in the strands between songs – “Do U FM” is fully formed and beautifully layered, while “Novelist Sad Face” is a short, acapella rendering of gentle curiosity. What is holding these ideas together? Some songs demand more, seem to carry a whole load – eventually the skipping stone will halt to sink and resume its idle duty – while others drift in and out of focus, the way thoughts and dreams become interwoven before the mind is sunk into true sleep.

Music and words don’t always have to interact. Where she decides to keep them apart gives a new contour to where and how she puts them together. The kind of thing you’re supposed to take for granted with songs and their singers comes alive in Eliza’s hands – the little miracle of mixing, kneading, stretching, and stopping.

So often on Progress Bakery, Eliza teases out truth and meaning by asking questions. “Do I wanna be crying?” “Do you want me good or do you want me bad?” “Do I need an eye test?” “I’m writing songs in my head while you’re going over stuff with me — is that cruel??” In “Pocky” Eliza ends with a question that feels to me like the actual biography, succinct and revealing:

I don’t wanna be made to see
I just wanna ask “what’s that?”

Grace that ought to be rare, but in its care and precision is offered humbly, with great generosity, and without announcing itself. Eliza’s simple, miraculous music is given further form and shape by a group of collaborators – invaluable guest musicians Jeremy Ray, Evan Cartwright, Steven McPhail, Kenny Boothby, Ed Squires, Carolina Chauffe, Dorothea Paas, Louie Short, and Avalon Tassonyi. Together with Louie Short, who recorded, mixed, and produced the album along with Jeremy Ray and Lukas Cheung, Eliza has cultivated a richness in sound and texture that prods and provokes the ticklish ear. Barely audible guitar tinkering, a brief lo-fi field recording of trumpets, the harmonic clicking of a looped synthesizer, a flourish of reeds, a child’s conversation, each uncanny sound perfectly placed, rippling out under a soft breeze.

Lay in bed alone at night and ask aloud to the stillness,

“What were you doing at the Albuquerque Airport?
What were you doing there??”

And hear your question answered by a dream of swelling, undulating cellos. Try to grasp at the melody and structure. It’s not an answer (if there could be one), but it moves deeper, closer to the weird layer of fleeting moments and disconnected images, barely perceptible at its core. Wait for the dream reel to click into place.

Eliza took me for a ride in Nicole (her beloved Dodge Grand Caravan) and told me she’d been thinking of the album as an embodiment of transition – and I think every transition, known or unknown, carries the weight of new meaning, skittering off the surface tension of life as you know it, creating ripples, sometimes bouncing off and sometimes breaking through. There is a trick you can use to tell if a dough is glutinous enough. You’re supposed to stretch it out as thin as you can without breaking it and hold it up to the light. If you can see through, even if it renders the world murky and uncertain, you should leave it alone. I love this trick. It’s one that Eliza seems to know intuitively: work gently and ask questions and don’t always expect answers, and when you can, take a glimpse at something new, and then leave.

NOW Music proudly presents NOW That’s What I Call Gold – The Ultimate Hits – this essential 3-LP set brings together 46 tracks by legendary artists with timeless anthems, celebrating some of the greatest hits of all time, including chart-topping classics and enduring favourites.



LP1 sets the stage with Queen’s electrifying ‘A Kind Of Magic’, followed by Philip Bailey & Phil Collins’ #1 ‘Easy Lover’. The Police feature with their #1 smash ‘Message In A Bottle’, while The Killers follow with their record-breaking anthem ‘Mr. Brightside’. The massive ‘Stick Season’ from Noah Kahan is up next before the first side finishes with Lana Del Rey’s stunning ‘Video Games’. Flip the LP over for contemporary classics from Coldplay and Duran Duran. Sinéad O’Connor’s ‘Nothing Compares 2 U’ still sounds raw and breath-taking and is followed by classics from the Pretenders, Shirley Bassey, Dusty Springfield, and Soft Cell’s ‘Tainted Love’, one of the best-selling UK singles of the ‘80s, whilst another of those closes out the first LP: Ultravox with their masterpiece, ‘Vienna’.



LP2 delivers a legendary lineup, including Billy Joel with his Grammy-winning ‘Just The Way You Are’ and Céline Dion’s powerful version of ‘All By Myself’. John Denver’s ‘Take Me Home, Country Roads’ and Paul Simon’s groundbreaking ‘Graceland’ are featured along with the pop genius of Electric Light Orchestra with ‘Last Train To London’. While on the other side timeless ballads from Elton John with ‘Tiny Dancer’ and Lewis Capaldi’s ‘Someone You Loved’ come ahead of Wings, Simply Red and ‘60s gems from Stevie Wonder, The Supremes and the peerless ‘Walk On By’ from Dionne Warwick.



LP3 opens with Neil Diamond’s universally beloved singalong anthem, ‘Sweet Caroline’ and Cliff Richard’s mid-70s classic, ‘Devil Woman’. Disco legends Donna Summer (‘MacArthur Park’) and Gloria Gaynor (‘I Will Survive’), lead into Sophie Ellis Bextor’s ‘Murder On The Dancefloor’ which became a smash for the second time recently. Ed Sheeran and Pharrell Williams had enduringly popular hits with ‘Galway Girl’ and ‘Happy’, and the side closes with the harmonic vocals of All-4-One and their beautiful signature song ‘I Swear’. The final side is packed with anthemic and uplifting classics kicking off with Spandau Ballet’s ‘Gold’, Survivor’s ‘Eye Of The Tiger’, and Take That’s soaring ‘Rule The World’. The remainder of the collection celebrates and showcases some of the ‘70s greatest tracks including Bonnie Tyler’s ‘Lost In France’, Marianne Faithfull’s poignant ‘The Ballad Of Lucy Jordan’ and Blondie’s era-defining and genre-defying #1 ‘Heart Of Glass’.



NOW That’s What I Call Gold is a must-have for all music lovers —packed with legendary artists, timeless hits, and unforgettable moments in pop. Don’t miss out on this golden treasure trove of musical brilliance!

In between the Golden Earring albums 'Seven Tears' and 'Together', both guitarist George Kooymans and singer Barry Hay worked on solo material. Kooymans’ album 'Jojo' was released in December 1971 and was the result of a sparkling and short period of recording sessions at the Phonogram Studio in Hilversum, where he recorded a collection of songs with some of the best Dutch session musicians – among guitarists Eelco Gelling (Cuby + Blizzards) and Hans Hollestelle and saxophone player Bertus Borgers (Sweet d’Buster). Thanks to the spontaneous recordings, the personal lyrics - with help from George’s friends Bruce Kirkman and Jerry Voisin - and Harry van Hoof’s string arrangements, 'Jojo' achieved a cult status and became a collectors' item soon after release.

The album has been remastered from the original Phonogram Studio master tapes and includes a recent interview with George Kooymans about the making of 'Jojo'.

'Jojo' is available as a limited numbered edition of 750 copies on light green coloured vinyl and includes an insert.

Known as one of the leading voices in the European roots scene, Ina's explosive live
performances and powerful, honey- dripping vocals have captivated audiences for
over a decade. With this new release, she takes listeners on an emotional and groovy
journey of rediscovery and resilience.
Recorded in Helsinki with a team of Finnish musicians and produced by Michael Bleu
and Ina, After Dark Hour is steeped in Retro Soul, Funk, Motown-inspired grooves, and
R&B. The energy of live performance was a driving force behind the album's creation.
"I wanted to make songs that would be fun to play live, songs that would make people
leave my shows sweaty and smiling,"
The title track, After Dark Hour, was the spark that reignited her creativity after over a
year of writer's block. "I was going through it--what I call the postpandemic blues. I
couldn't get myself to write songs or even listen to music. Then one day, I wrote the
title song, and it was like magic. It was such a relief to know I still had it in me after a
year of not having it. After dark hour represents the first moment you see the light
coming through the blinds you've been keeping shut. It's the feeling
that things are finally getting better."
The album takes listeners through an eclectic mix of soul sounds, from sultry power
ballads to James Brown- style funk explosions, tender sweet soul, and uptempo
Motown grooves. The lush production includes cinematic strings, bold horns, and
gospel-like backing vocals, all serving as a backdrop to Ina's signature vocals.
Ina has been performing since she was 17, dedicating her career to crafting music
that blends classic soul with her unique voice and vision. With After Dark Hour, she
delivers an album that invites listeners to dance through life's darkest moments.

Ltd Classic Black Vinyl with bonus 7inch, DL card. Monde UFO, LA-based duo of Ray Monde and Kris Chau, are a monochromatic sunset for the senses. A sonic journey through psychedelia, space rock and jazz. A cosmic space where Spacemen 3 meets Vanishing Twin, by way of Sun Ra. 7171 perfectly embodies the framework of lo and hi-fi sounds which have helped define the band. Included in this expanded package is Four Songs, Monde UFO's radical interpretation of Fugazi's music, housed for the first time on LTD 7" with new artwork. In a downtown Los Angeles warehouse, on 7th Street, Ray Monde began writing songs on an old Yamaha church organ for a project that eventually became Monde UFO. Utilizing the organ as a bass, alongside keyboards and a drum machine, he began making demos on a four-track cassette recorder. Heavily influenced by the musician Sandy Bull, sonically landing in a similar no-man's land of Worldly Jazz and Psych Folk. Monde experimented with the themes mostly of meditation and UFO lore. In time Ray moved in with the artist Kris Chau. With little crossover in musical tastes, they exclusively started listening to jazz, ambient and new age music in the house. Increased interest in sound baths and experimental music led to seeing music in a different light. Envisioning something that would sound like Don Cherry making a record with Yo La Tengo. '7171' is an amalgam of influences, interpretations and otherworldly sounds channeled through genre bending experimentation. This expanded edition of '7171' includes the sought after 'Four Songs' EP, a reimagining Fugazi's early classics, songs that take on a life of their own, lost amongst the haze and sugar sweet psych. Ray Monde explains, "Long Division was one of my favorite tracks off 'Steady Diet of Nothing' the first Fugazi record I ever owned; more than ever, it also feels truly poignant in the times we live in.Version 2 is our interpretation of Version from 'Red Medicine', my favorite Fugazi Record." "A slice of low-key bedroom pop-psychedelia in the vein of Syd Barrett." Aquarium Drunkard "Monde UFO wander through a humid mist of exotic samba shuffles, shamanic whispers, and reverberating laser beam synthesizers." New Commute

Introducing the ultimate Rock and Power Ballads collection - NOW That’s What I Call Rock Anthems – Out 31st May! Get ready to crank up the volume and let the music take you on a journey through 79 epic hits, spread across 4 CDs.and with 45 epic hits on 3-LP’s pressed in stunning Neon Violet Vinyl

With an intrigue for a particular niche of old UK hardcore which takes cues from Sheffield bleep ambience, heady rave futurism and soft, almost new age synth pads, Blank Mind presents ‘Lost Paradise: Blissed Out Hardcore 91-94’. Though the records gathered for the compilation span a short three-year period and bridge the gap between scenes, the collection manages to find a sweet spot where the influence of Warp’s Artificial Intelligence, back room chill out sonics and the nascent jungle boom meet with elements of Italian piano house and slower breakbeat cuts.

Opting to focus on atmosphere to highlight shared connections; in this case the duality of often serene and calming soundscapes with frenzied breaks and bass (see Hedgehog Affair’s ‘Parameters’ and Luxury’s ‘Twirl’ respectively); Lost Paradise is a formidable collection of tracks plucked from a thriving time for British dance music experimentation. The general themes of ascension and escapism channelled through digital samplers are also inescapably linked to a turbulent time in politics, beginning in the post-Thatcher years and culminating in the year the harshest anti-rave Criminal Justice Act came into force.

Initially building the compilation around DJ Mayhem’s track ‘Inesse’, Blank Mind label founder Sam Purcell and Amsterdam based producer Tammo Hesselink began a process of swapping favourites and deep cuts to spread across this 2x12” doublepack. The compilation avoids any obvious centrepieces through masterful sequencing, allowing for moments of refrain and tempo changes in a way that helps add to their overall vision of what this music is and can be; “We wanted to frame hardcore in a different light, looking at this idea of ecstasy through the traditional meaning of the word and exploring that symbolism”. By drawing from what some might consider the softer edges of the movement, the pair offer a look into the relevance of these tracks in the contemporary era, where the past years have seen both an explosion in popularity of old ambient/new-age music and a certified jungle revival.

Eight track project ‘Anyway I Can’ includes the singles ‘Crystal Tears,’ ‘Sweetness’ with Leon Thomas and ‘Light Work’ in addition to the just-released instant classic ‘Anyways.’ The project – which features production from D’Mile, OzMoses Arketex, Dahi, Yakob, Tom Mann and HYLNU – follows last year’s ‘El-Mean’ and ‘Marking My Time’ EPs, and further establishes him as one of the UK’s biggest and brightest new talents.

Mit ihrem Debütalbum "Songs From A Thousand Frames Of Mind" schafft es die in Virginia geborene und in Los Angeles lebende Songwriterin Kate Bollinger ihr Handwerk neu zu definieren und gleichzeitig zu verfeinern. Bollinger und ihre Band - zu der Jacob Grissom, Adam Brisbin, Matthew E. White (Sharon Van Etten, Hiss Golden Messenger, Mountain Goats) und Sam Evian (Cass McCombs, Blonde Redhead, Big Thief) gehören - bevorzugen das Eklektische, Melodische und Majestätische, wobei sie, inspiriert von Pop-, Rock- und Folk-Songs der 1960er Jahre, intime Lyrik mit klassischer Instrumentierung unterstützen. Es ist eine Sammlung von 11 Popsongs, ausgefeilt und doch rau mit einem unterschwelligen Punk-Geist, die das Leben, Beziehungen und das Erwachsenwerden thematisieren. Die Veröffentlichung folgt auf eine Reihe von Singles seit ihrer 2022 auf Ghostly International erschienenen EP "Look At It In The Light", auf Beiträge zu Projekten von Freunden (Drugdealer, Paul Cherry) und auf Tourneen mit Faye Webster, Liz Phair, Devendra Banhart und anderen.

The more you recall a particular memory, the more it distorts and plays on your sense of narrative continuity. In this way, the vividly textured layers of Secret Recess – the debut Dauw LP from Luke Entelis aka Viul – comprise a sacred experience that leaves a unique emotional residue with each listen. Some pieces feature delicate melodies curling over themselves, while others offer gradually evolving loops underpinned by subtle guitar plucking, distant found sounds and obscured voices at half-speed. All are crafted meticulously with analogue sources and sifted through soft-edged tape processes that reward a dedicated headphone session, conjuring the solitary space promised in the album’s title.

From a home studio replete with analog synthesizers, guitars, effects and tape machines, Secret Recess emerged slowly across an era when most of us turned inward by necessity, drawing upon a library’s worth of sketches, recombinations and lightning strikes. Entelis also cites in particular a road trip to the national parks of the southwestern US that significantly informed the hazy, spacious atmospheres of the work that followed; by his account, “the desert wind was too intense for field recording,” but you can still feel it drifting across compositions like “Taurum” and “Eighties”. Such a union of urban huddle and open-sky expanse allows the album to take on new colours anywhere it’s heard.

Whether fully formed in one brief spell or developed over months of revisitation and refinement, each facet of the Viul catalogue conveys a rare, sweet melancholy pulled from thoughtful circuitry and the core artistic impulse to simply document the ephemeral – those moments in existence that you have to accept losing, but which replay endlessly once the day unravels.

“In the depths of the recording process I often feel simultaneously in touch with past and future versions of myself, which is strange, but good, I think.” (Viul)

Viul has been the primary project of Brooklyn’s Luke Entelis for nearly twenty years, but only in the last half-dozen has it come to fruition beyond the ears of friends and family. The albums Bright Decline (Disques d’Honoré, 2019) and Outside the Dream World (Past Inside the Present, 2019) beautifully justified this patient arc, and the collaboration Konec with Benoît Pioulard (A Strangely Isolated Place, 2022) entwined the two artists’ sensibilities into one of the most notable ambient/experimental collections of the year.

"I'll Be Your Rainbow is the only recorded album by classic soul singer Bobby Wilson. Originally released in 1975, the album is a perfect blend of the styles of soul that were running through the east coast underground of the early 70s. It includes elements of the burgeoning club scene on the more up-tempo songs, and sweet warm vocals on the strong mellow cuts. The album was recorded in Detroit, Philadelphia and Miami, produced by Vernon Bullock and orchestrated by Paul Riser. It features the UK soul scene hit ""Deeper and Deeper"". I'll Be Your Rainbow is available as a 50th anniversary edition of 500 copies on light green coloured vinyl and includes an insert. It is the first time the record is pressed on coloured vinyl and the first repress since its original release in 1975."

The Gentle Spring are a new group, formed by Michael Hiscock, Emilie Guillaumot and Jérémie Orsel. Michael has an illustrious pop history, having been a founder member of The Field Mice, possibly the most beloved band on Sarah Records in the 1990s. And with The Gentle Spring, it seems that history is repeating itself…

When Michael and his friend Bobby Wratten formed The Field Mice, the two of them very quickly created a set of songs whose emotional honesty, raw guitars and perfect pop melodies pierced the hearts of a generation of indiepop fans, kids who were unmoved by the posturing of mainstream indie, and who didn’t want to spend time in fields dancing at 24-hour raves. The Field Mice were the band who defined the meaning and the spirit of Sarah Records. Defiantly in love with pop, defiantly un-macho, defiantly…sensitive. And now, remarkably, Michael has done it again. With his new musical partner Emilie, The Gentle Spring have created a fresh new iteration of indiepop music. Once again, the songs are unafraid of raw emotions, brutally honest and is still in love with big pop melodies.

They are still….sensitive. But life is seen through a different lens now. There is wisdom, there is experience, and there is the ability to look back at the world with a mixture of regret and joy. These are very adult songs, and the arrangements reflect this. Rich acoustic guitars and Emilie’s haunting keyboard have replaced hectic drum machines and urgent distortion. And there is a third element to this music. Jérémie Orsel’s sophisticated guitar adds textures and melodies that give these songs a real depth, while maintaining an enigmatic distance, never quite overwhelming the vocal line. So things are clearer now.

But feelings are just as strong. The pain of unrequited love that made Field Mice songs so poignant hasn’t gone away. In some ways, the thought of roads not taken is more profound when experienced in retrospect. I Can’t Have You As A Friend entertains this notion, still moved by the allure of a different life, but shuddering with fear at what might have happened. Also still haunted by the past, The Girl Who Ran Away conjures up the ghost of a previous failed relationship, which threatens to undermine happiness in the present. In Severed Hearts, sung by Emilie, there is the stark recognition that some endings really are final: sometimes there can be no reconciliations. But the song cleverly moves on from this: it acknowledges that, even after the worst emotional loss, you have to pick yourself, you will move on. It’s sophisticated and it’s mature – but it will still break your heart. Sugartown is another song that plays this trick on you. It insists that there will always be lightness and shade. It warns you against complacency, but does it so kindly that you feel like you’ve been embraced. When Michael’s and Emilie’s vocals combine in the final chorus, telling us that we don’t live in Sugartown, you know they are right – and yet the sweetness of the singing makes you feel that – just for a moment – you do.the band perform as a trio and have already found a keen audience in France, where they are based. During a short tour of the UK in January, to coincide with this release, British audiences will get their first opportunities to see The Gentle Spring play these new songs live

While she was waiting for her last album 'Pripyat' to be released, Catalan composer and producer Marina Herlop was restless. She was concerned about her (by then) uncertain music career, and felt emotionally unmoored. "Some days I used to sit on the balcony of my flat to catch some sun," she explains, "I would close my eyes and start visualizing myself as a gardener, pulling out purple weeds from the soil, every bad memory or emotion I wanted to expulse being one of the plants." As the days dragged on, the fantasy deepened, and Herlop discovered that parts of the garden was withering; the energy she had been putting into the non-musical side of her life had seeped into her creative pasture and poisoned it. She knew what she needed to do to overcome the blight: plant some seeds and tend to her art to help it blossom and bloom once again. 'Nekkuja' is a place for Herlop's warmest, sweetest sentiments to rise to the surface and crack through the topsoil. She describes the record as a way for her to seek and affirm inner light, and it's undoubtedly her brightest, poppiest statement to date. The forward-thinking, experimental touches that nourished 'Pripyat' are still present, but blessed with a level of positivity that's rare to find in a scene so entranced by darkness and melancholy. Skittering fragments of ornate acoustic instrumentation provide a serene welcome to 'Busa', punctuated by precise electronic processes that shuttle the sound towards abstraction and fantasy. Herlop's voice grows over the tangle of sounds from a childish giggle into a layered, matted mantra, sounding passionate, hopeful and full of energy. The vitality spills over into 'Cosset', where she wraps powerful motifs around ricocheting beats and dramatic piano rolls. Herlop's garden opens up dramatically on 'Karada' when bucolic field recordings crack like sunlight over harp plucks and willowy vocals. Her voice seems to bend around the whooshing streams and chittering of birds as if she's singing to the manicured land itself - a utopian paradise that Herlop employs as a metaphor for the creative process. In contrast to the view that an artist is an isolated genius or an idol to be worshipped, Herlop believes that the garden helps us see the process as closer to devotion or perseverance. A gardener brings order to the wild chaos of the outdoors, collaborating with nature to arrange something vibrant and enduring. Blending familiar sounds with fanciful concepts, Herlop traces an imaginary garden, imploring us to wander and wonder. And by the album's billowing final track 'Babel', it's flowered into a flush of pruned vocal phrases and delicately groomed orchestral rushes, painted in orange, green, blue and red.

Angeführt von der explosiven Sängerin Siân Greenway veröffentlichten Bobbie Dazzle Anfang des Jahres ihre Debüt-Single bei Rise Above Records, die bald restlos ausverkauft war. Inspiriert von Glam-Größen wie Bowie, T. Rex, Suzi Quatro und The Sweet ist das Debütalbum 'Fandabidozi' der aus den West Midlands stammenden Band ein belebender Ansturm massiver Melodien, mitreißender Riffs und strahlendem Pop-Rock-Bombast. Als Gegenmittel zu der enervierenden Negativität, die uns in diesem historischen Moment umgibt, könnte es kaum perfekter sein. Das Album ist eine feierliche Zeitreise mit zehn Songs, die die 70er Jahre plündert und sie mit aller Kraft ins Hier und Jetzt zerrt. Von der harten Rockmusik des eröffnenden 'Lightning Fantasy' bis zur Pop-Psychedelischen Perfektion des abschließenden 'Flowers On Mars'. Oder frech und stark im klassischen Glam-Shuffle von 'Revolution' und herrlich hymnisch auf der feurigen Debütsingle 'Back To The City', deckt das Album ein riesiges musikalisches Terrain ab und bleibt dabei den Prinzipien des Glam-Rock der 70er Jahre treu: große Riffs, noch größere Hooks und das vorherrschende Gefühl, dass die Zuhörer in ein wirbelndes Kaleidoskop purer Euphorie geschleudert wurden.

Written and recorded in a firestorm of creativity during the mastering phase of Lukah's upcoming double LP with Real Bad Man, Permanent Blackface is a monstrous vignette displaying the true power of Lukah's songwriting and the technical brilliance of his team. The album flashes before you like a lightning strike illuminating a barren cityscape.

Introducing himself as Mr. Blackface, Lukah identifies the true artist's responsibility to hold a mirror to the listener in order to confront and disarm taboos. In both content and music, the record balances vulgarity and introspection, the horror of silence, and the comfort of colossal, discordant sound. Over 12 songs the celestial, often blood-soaked color palette of soul and R&B that gave emotional weight to Why Look Up and Raw Extractions has been scraped away like a charred skeleton. With a small cast of voices consisting entirely of Lukah's immediate family, and production duties handled in-house by WALZ, Deener, Hollow Sol, Cities Aviv, SB11, and Lukah himself, the record has the intimacy of a theater production. The only voices present are Lukah, joined by his mother providing scat vocals, and his grandfather discussing the Jungian self-hatred of the colonial project and its terrifying repercussions for contemporary Black Amer-icans, with a fitting invocation of Dr. Frankenstein's monster. The beats here are reminiscent of noir, 78rpm swing and big band, evoking the underlying horror of a pre-Civil Rights movement America, where segregational binaries invert-ed folk tales through the white terror of ghosts, the black "spook", and mythic themes of fate and free will. The whip-lash of shifting perspectives keeps your head on a swivel in way only Lukah's superior pen can elucidate. Will it trigger anger that first voice you hear on Permanent Blackface is Judy Garland singing "Sweet Chariot"? But isn't this just Lukah speaking through her, announcing he's got "The Southin his mouth"? As the internet endlessly debates intention and appropriation in our artistic history, the insignificance of this small sample is put into perspective: another white pebble in a black ocean of Lukah's creation. "If the sun don't shine today / pray the sun come out tomorrow...pray the sun pierce through the sorrow"

The album introduces an unnamed character beset by disposition. As the story's scope increases, the gaze of the mir-ror shifts. How would white society feel if historical roles were reversed? How does a presumed white listener experi-ence the trauma of interacting with police?