Cerca:t move

Ben Pest debuts on Berlin's Mechatronica with four lethal electro cuts, built to morph minds and move bodies.

Manchester duo Cortese return to Time Is Now with their second release, a sonic rambling through UKG, 4x4 garage and breaks.

Whilst the title track and 'SPU1' use flute melodies and warped basslines to create immersive atmospheres, the aptly-named 'In Transit' is all about movement. Finally 'Regulate' provides a blissed-out take on UKG before '2 b wit u' brings things to a dramatic close with a full-bodied soundscape and skittering breaks.

Freedom – the debut album from Leah Weller – a modern soul soundtrack to her head spinning twenties turning into empowered, contented thirties. Completed last year, Weller’s first complete album follows a decade-long career on catwalks, in front of cameras and making dancefloors shake, constantly on the move and with music as a constant companion. Finding the escape route out of anxiety-inducing mix-and-match career moves with the stability of love, the slowdown of repeated lockdowns and, finally, motherhood, Weller’s race is now to be run at her own pace with a collection of songs set perfectly to her flow.



Gathering nine, finely-tailored songs together with a drum beat of support from producer and collaborator, Steve Craddock, the collection speaks, much rather than screams, of finding the sweet spot between the need for hope, however naïve, and the truths that only experience can spell out.

Freedom – the debut album from Leah Weller – a modern soul soundtrack to her head spinning twenties turning into empowered, contented thirties. Completed last year, Weller’s first complete album follows a decade-long career on catwalks, in front of cameras and making dancefloors shake, constantly on the move and with music as a constant companion. Finding the escape route out of anxiety-inducing mix-and-match career moves with the stability of love, the slowdown of repeated lockdowns and, finally, motherhood, Weller’s race is now to be run at her own pace with a collection of songs set perfectly to her flow.



Gathering nine, finely-tailored songs together with a drum beat of support from producer and collaborator, Steve Craddock, the collection speaks, much rather than screams, of finding the sweet spot between the need for hope, however naïve, and the truths that only experience can spell out.

A prehistoric tribe dances around the fire. Young revelers lose themselves on a packed dancefloor. Explorers fly a rocket toward another galaxy. In the TIMEBEING universe, these things are all connected. From the earliest days of humanity, people have strived to expand their reality beyond the limitations of the here and now_and have used technology to make it happen. Their methods and machines may have changed across the centuries, but the drive remains constant, vibrating through history and occupying a space where time loses all meaning. "The art of making music is the art of manipulating time," says Uji. "I have had experiences where time shifts dramatically; sometimes it slows down to a halt, while moments seemingly become infinite. This is where the magic happens. This is when the fabric of what we call reality begins to show its seams." An Argentintian electronic producer and ethnomusicologist, Uji has been navigating those seams for more than two decades, initially as one half of the pioneering duo Lulacruza, but more recently with his own solo work. TIMEBEING continues that lineage, but also elevates it, taking shape as a interdisciplinary multimedia journey that includes a new album, an accompanying short film, an immersive live show and the birth of a new decentralized community of like-minded artists, creators, seekers, and dreamers. Mesmerizing and deeply psychedelic, the TIMEBEING LP certainly reflects the rich sound palette of Latin America_and its intersection with various strains of electronic music_but Uji taps into traditions_both musical and spiritual_that can't be hemmed in by borders and boundaries. Transcendence is the goal, and the album moves through fantastical spaces that may or may not exist: a metallic jungle, a Balkan spaceship, a cloud that morphs into a tumultuous whirlpool. All the while, Uji criss-crosses history, consulting elders and futurists alike as he throws open the doors of perception and pens a new mythology about what it means to be human. FOR FANS OF: Floating Points, Four Tet, Oneohtrix Point Never, Actress, Nicola Cruz, Dengue Dengue Dengue, Nicolas Jaar, Mount Kimbie, Mucho Indio.

The origins of Cos date back to the second half of the sixties when Daniel Schell joined forces with Jean-Paul Musette, Pascale Son and Robert Pernet to form Classroom. When Classroom split, Daniel Schell and Pascale Son moved ahead and formed Cos together with Charles Loos, Alain Goutier and Bob Dartsch. They produced an experimental jazz rock sound linked to the influences above mentioned, but without being mere copycats since they always managed to keep to their own personality.



Viva Boma was their second LP, originally issued in November 1976, and added some African influences to the mix, including the cover which, designed by Alain Goutier upon a concept by Daniel Schell, depicted a trio of hipopotamus that made reference to Boma, a portuary city at the banks of the river Congo, and Bomma, Belgian word for grandmother (hence the title appearing either with one or two m's on different parts of the artwork).



The Wah Wah reissue comes housed in a

NY-based cellist / composer Clarice Jensen’s third LP,
‘Esthesis’, is a deep and gorgeous new work,
conceptually structured around the emotional and
harmonic spectrum and the phenomenon of
chromesthesia - a condition whereby sound
involuntarily evokes an experience of colour, shape
and movement.
Following up her critically acclaimed 2020 LP, ‘The
experience of repetition as death’, ‘Esthesis’ sees
Jensen expanding her oeuvre and introducing a wider
instrumental range, including the piano of Timo Andres
and the voices of Laura Lutzke, Francesca Federico
and Emma Broughton. Mixed by Francesco Donadello
and mastered by Matthew Agoglia, it is released ahead
of a UK / EU tour supporting Dustin O’Halloran.
Jensen has recorded and performed with a host of
artists including Jóhann Jóhannsson, Max Richter,
Björk, Stars of the Lid, Dustin O’Halloran, Nico Muhly,
Taylor Swift, Michael Stipe, the National and many
others.
CD in gatefold card wallet.
LP includes digital download code.
For fans of Jóhann Jóhannsson, Hildur Gudnadottir,
Stars of the Lid, Max Richter, A Winged Victory For
The Sullen, Sarah Davachi, Kali Malone, Kaitlyn
Aurelia Smith

Jan Anderzén and his partners celebrate the transcendental power of ecstatic music. Alas Rattoisaa Virtaa is the first Kemialliset Ystävät album in four years. It is the result of chance enhancing online collaboration methods, desire to get lost in the sound archives and the high art of meticulous editing. The album title is from visions of rivers running down from Heart of Darkness to the City of Joyful Noise. If contemporary music is a high speed train passing by then KY's music would be an orgy of light under a railway bridge.

A band member Lars Mattila experiences the music of Alas Rattoisaa Virtaa in spatial terms:

"There are worlds accessed only through our auditory system. I hear a Wunderkammer of freestanding sound objects. Rhythms like sequences of seemingly random stuff laid out on the forest floor: a pair of thrones, a Henry Moore sculpture, a watermelon, two thrones, a Moore sculpture, a melon... I trust the path to go on even if I can't see behind the hill. There's motion, wether it be drunk driving or super human rapid eye movement. The sheer amount of detail makes it impossible to take everything in at once. One's perception and shifting focus reshape the experience on each listen. I remember my visit to Cappella Palatina in Palermo where Normann architecture, Arabic arches and Byzantine dome form a harmonious whole. Various cultural and spiritual influences are recognized as equals. The sense of space also brings to mind the end scene of The Lawnmower Man when the dude is trying to escape the virtual world."

Time 2 Love is an album based on Irene’s many influences and foregrounds her sensitivities. All the tracks embody reminiscent of the 00s R&B vocals, inspired by legends like Brandy and Aaliyah.
The production has the signature of RSN, one of the music’s most influential artist and producer, who together with Irene bridge the gap between cinematic soul, R&B classics, Hip Hop and contemporary music scene.

Time 2 Love is about the journey we make from love to toxic relationships and independence. Irene’s journey goes through love to loneliness and shows how the reminisce of a past love may force to toxic old habits. Life pointed her back in the same old directions, but as she is ultimately the master of her own individual destiny, she progressed and moved from abandonment to a healing experience and she regained to be emotionally independent. The album features Anduze from Parov Stelar, MC Yinka, Word Of Mouth, Mr. Collage and the vinyl edition includes an extra track with BNC.

Time 2 Love is available on vinyl by the label Mind The Wax and on all digital platforms via Hidden Track as of September 16th 2022 and includes 10 tracks.



Irene is an R&B artist, born in Athens and based both in UK and Greece. Her debut album “Time 2 Love” is an album sank into her feelings about self-love, toxic relationships, love and independence.

Irene has received three Awards at Manhattan’s IMTA 2011 and released her breakout single ‘Like A Rainbow’ on 2016 with Ian Ikon which was included in the global collection “NOW 2016” from Universal.

In addition, Irene collaborated with celebrated artists such as Anduze (Parov Stelar) and MC Yinka and she released four songs ‘Familiar’, ‘Light It Up’, ‘Piece Of You’, ‘Whatsa Say’ (via Hidden Track Records).

'Razen is the collective consciousness of core members Brecht Ameel and Kim Delcour, who since 2010 have realized themselves through virtuoistic and highly expressive improvisations with lesser-heard instruments. Experimenting with repetition of tones through controlled breathing and phrasing, Razen arrive at a synesthetic playground of auditory textures and colorful imagery.

The ensemble is carefully orchestrated for every occasion with the intent and desire to escape to environments unbeknownst to them, taking shelter in the fleeting ego-dissolving moments that arise, whether divine or disturbing. While the formula of instrumentation and like-minded peers may appear mundane on paper, it’s Brecht and Kim’s outlook and imagination beyond musical references that’s the immeasurable catalyst to their peculiar pursuits. Conversations about paintings, books, or films ultimately manifest themselves into live performances or album recordings - with the philosophy of embracing playfulness and exploration through the lens of a child’s eye.

Only six collaborators have been invited to their inner circle to date. This is mainly attributed to the rarity of finding spiritual counterparts that are seeking freedom outside the confines of written musical scores. Trading notes and rhythms for strokes and color, the band embodies emotive and meditative drones that demand a deep listening state. Joined by Will Guthrie and Paul Garriau, Razen venture into their vision of Arcadia through Regression, proudly presented by Marionette. On this album, Brecht Ameel turns to his trusty prepared harmonium and celesta, while Kim Delcour controls air and breath on various wind and reed instruments. Featuring Will Guthrie on tuned and melodic percussion (timpani, glockenspiel, marimba, vibraphone), the recordings have a distinct flow and fluid movement when compared to some of Razen’s previous works where rhythm is taking a backseat. Hurdy-gurdy specialist, Paul Garriau, plays accompanying melodies and drones on Moon, Aether and Nebula.

The album's earthly elements deal with survival, timelessness, and simplicity; such as the life affirming rewards of finding refuge and the wonders of observing the interstellar. The unearthly elements pitch this narrative into the realm of mythology and superstition, in the hopes of trying to understand our primeval universe and thrive in the unknown. Regression also addresses Razen’s fascination with inhospitable places and how to adapt to the sorrows that come with this sort of brutalism. The resulting destination is a mind and time bending zone - one that can be reached by riding sound waves that transcend the past, future, and present.'

Shinedoe readies her fifth album ‘Freedom Riders’ on her MTM Records imprint with the release of her vinyl-focused ‘Wake Up’ EP, offering a four-track preview into the project while unveiling a selection of diverse electronic productions for home listening through to the dancefloor.

Over two decades, Dutch DJ and producer Chinedum Nwosu, aka Shinedoe, has established her presence as one of house and techno’s most loved talents, while carving a true path to her own vision. Based in Amsterdam and featuring as a key part of the city’s rich and blossoming underground scene, with performances across De Martkantine, Shelter and Thuishaven to international institutions such as Berghain to fabric, her releases on the likes of Rekids, Cocoon, Bpitch Control and her 2021 release ‘The Observer’ on Jeff Mills’ iconic Axis cemented her reputation as one of the scene’s first talents. Having launched her own label MTM Records in 2018, releasing four EPs on the label to date, October signals the arrival of the label’s first album in the form of her ten-track ‘Freedom Riders’ - an expansive and diverse project created in lockdown capturing sonics from across the spectrum - with the LP preceded by Nwosu’s four-track album sampler EP titled ‘Wake Up’.

“Freedom Riders is about living in a world where there is peace, and all our basic needs are fulfilled. Each being having the right to live in peace, be happy and to be. We are all Freedom Riders, some of us get lost and need to get back to the source.” - Shinedoe.

Opening production ‘Wake Up’ is a tension-building journey through metallic textures, warped vocals and eerie interludes, while album title cut ‘Freedom Riders’ fuses hazy atmospherics, rich chords, crisp percussion and sweeping acid lines to offer a late-night ride through smoky territories. On the flip, B1 ‘Peace’ offers an exemplary balance of light and dark with delicate yet vibrant leads guiding murky undertones and sharp percussion throughout, before closing with the hypnotic, off-kilter and mind-altering sonics of ‘Safety First’, traversing soundscapes to showcase and excellently crafted early-morning cut.

Cuts across the album continue this wide-reaching and rich variation, with the likes of ‘Shine’ and ‘Lockdown’ drawing on classic and modern house influences to offer striking additions for the dancefloor, while ‘Floor Action’ and closing track ‘See The Light’ veering into more dubby, paired back territories to offer up a sense of space and tranquillity - with the ten-track project showcasing a carefully crafted album rich in sound design showcasing one of Amsterdam’s finest talents.

DJ FEEDBACK

early support from



Laurent Garnier: Really like PEACE & SAFETY FIRST niiiiiiiiice

Marcel Dettmann: thx

Luke Slater: nice release thanks!

Ame (Innervisions): thanks

Ben Sims: safety first my fave, thx!!

Slam (Soma): Thanx

Chris Liebing (CLR): great vibe

Radio Slave (Rekids): Woah ! "Freedom Riders" is great... and just in time for the weekend ! Thankyou x

Bambounou (50 Weapons / Sound Pellegrino): There's a vibe I like it thanks

Anthony Parasole (The Corner) this is so good

Truncate: Solid cuts!

Sofa Movements is pleased to present a collection of five dancefloor friendly house jams and one kinda-303-triphop gem from Paradiso Rhythm.

It’s taken a long time for me to feel good about myself,” says Andreya Triana of the journey to her third album. “As a musician, as a woman, it’s difficult getting to that space. It’s really wonderful where you reach that time of having more good days than bad.” That sense of celebration is what drives ‘Life In Colour’, Andreya’s most confident, instinctive and heartfelt work to date; a record that celebrates love, freedom, independence and womanhood. “‘Life In Colour’ is about stepping into my womanhood and being like ‘OK, I know this space. Let me try some s**t. I know it’s going to be hard but I know it’s going to be OK’. I just wanted to put some good energy out there.” The first taster of that sweet release was teased with lead single ‘Woman’ - a soulful pop anthem of self-love, tracking Andreya’s life from awkward teen to mighty queen, from memories of heartache and trauma to triumph. “You know when you’re feeling so uncomfortable in yourself and you just want to be swallowed up into a hole in the ground?,” Andreya recalls of her youth. “This is about moving on from being a victim to a place of strength, to feeling like a superhero. “Anyone who has gone through difficult times like I have, should know that it’s absolutely possible to get to a good place. It doesn’t define who you are or your future. You have to fight like hell every day to move forward but anything is possible. We’re all full of so much goodness. Don’t lose sight of that.” The lyric video is a tribute to Andreya’s mother, grandmother, the strong females of her life and the many sacrifices that women make day-to-day, generation after generation.

The third album 'Life In Colour' by the MOBO nominated British soul/jazz singer Andreya Triana who's collaborated with Bonobo, Flying Lotus been endorsed by the likes of Gilles Peterson & Jamie Cullum.

Country Girl marked a distinct sonic shift with the band, as the EP was the first group of songs written in their new home in rural Massachusetts. The novel isolation of the Northeast gave Jae and Augustus plenty of time to write and explore new sounds, while reminiscing about their time in the south. The move also put the band within driving distance of New York City which was another important factor in their progression. The band attributes partial influence on Country Girl EP to their frequent shows in Manhattan and Brooklyn. Playing parties like Nothing Changes and Lost Enterprises gave them access to a vibrant new music community. From industrial to noise table techno, the band was enamored by the raw sound and fearless attitude of the artists and crowds alike. The sound of Country Girl is defined by these two worlds that the band existed within - their quiet, modest life in small town Massachusetts and their speedfueled weekends in New York. Country Girl Uncut includes the complete track list of songs from this time period. The album is out on the band’s imprint “Nude Club” on digital, cd, tape, and vinyl formats.

As the sun sets on a quaint East Nashville house, a young man bares a piece of his soul. Facing the camera, sporting a silky suit jacket/shirt/slacks/fingerless gloves ensemble that announces "singer" before he's even opened his mouth, Lee Tracy Johnson settles onto his stage, the front yard. He sways to the dirge-like drum machine pulse of a synth-soaked slow jam, extends his arms as if gaining his balance, and croons in affecting, fragile earnest, "I need your love… oh baby…"

Dogs in the yard next door begin barking. A mysterious cardboard robot figure, beamed in from galaxies unknown and affixed to a tree, is less vocal. Lee doesn't acknowledge either's presence. He's busy feeling it, arms and hands gesticulating. His voice rises in falsetto over the now-quiet dogs, over the ambient noise from the street that seeps into the handheld camcorder's microphone, over the recording of his own voice played back from a boombox off-camera. After six minutes the single, continuous shot ends. In this intimate creative universe there are no re-takes. There are many more music videos to shoot, and as Lee later puts it, "The first time you do it is actually the best. Because you can never get that again. You expressing yourself from within."

"I Need Your Love" dates from a lost heyday. From some time in the '80s or early '90s, when Lee Tracy (as he was known in performance) and his music partner/producer/manager Isaac Manning committed hours upon hours of their sonic and visual ideas to tape. Embracing drum machines and synthesizers – electronics that made their personal futurism palpable – they recorded exclusively at home, live in a room into a simple cassette deck. Soul, funk, electro and new wave informed their songs, yet Lee and Isaac eschewed the confinement of conventional categories and genres, preferring to let experimentation guide them.

"Anytime somebody put out a new record they had the same instruments or the same sound," explains Isaac. "So I basically wanted to find something that's really gonna stand out away from all of the rest of 'em." Their ethos meant that every idea they came up with was at least worth trying: echoed out half-rapped exhortations over frantic techno-style beats, gospel synth soul, modal electro-funk, oddball pop reinterpretations, emo AOR balladry, nods to Prince and the Fat Boys, or arrangements that might collapse mid-song into a mess of arcade game-ish blips before rallying to reach the finish line. All of it conjoined by consistent tape hiss, and most vitally, Lee's chameleonic voice, which managed to wildly shape shift and still evoke something sincere – whether toggling between falsetto and tenor exalting Jesus's return, or punctuating a melismatic romantic adlib with a succinct, "We all know how it feels to be alone."

"People think we went to a studio," says Isaac derisively. "We never went to no studio. We didn't have the money to go to no studio! We did this stuff at home. I shot videos in my front yard with whatever we could to get things together." Sometimes Isaac would just put on an instrumental record, be it "Planet Rock" or "Don't Cry For Me Argentina" (from Evita), press "record," and let Lee improvise over it, yielding peculiar love songs, would-be patriotic anthems, or Elvis Presley or Marilyn Monroe tributes. Technical limitations and a lack of professional polish never dissuaded them. They believed they were onto something.

"That struggle," Isaac says, "made that sound sound good to me."

In the parlance of modern music criticism Lee and Isaac's dizzying DIY efforts would inevitably be described as "outsider." But "outsider" carries the burden of untold additional layers of meaning if you're Black and from the South, creating on a budget, and trying to get someone, anyone within the country music capital of the world to take your vision seriously. "What category should we put it in?" Isaac asks rhetorically. "I don't know. All I know is feeling. I ain't gonna name it nothing. It's music. If it grabs your soul and touch your heart that's what it basically is supposed to do."

=

Born in 1963, the baby boy of nine siblings, Lee Tracy spent his earliest years living amidst the shotgun houses on Nashville's south side. "We was poor, man!" he says, recalling the outhouse his family used for a bathroom and the blocks of ice they kept in the kitchen to chill perishables. "But I actually don't think I really realized I was in poverty until I got grown and started thinking about it." Lee's mom worked at the Holiday Inn; his dad did whatever he had to do, from selling fruit from a horse drawn cart to bootlegging. "We didn't have much," Lee continues, "but my mother and my father got us the things we needed, the clothes on our back." By the end of the decade with the city's urban renewal programs razing entire neighborhoods to accommodate construction of the Interstate, the family moved to Edgehill Projects. Lee remembers music and art as a constant source of inspiration for he and his brothers and sisters – especially after seeing the Jackson 5 perform on Ed Sullivan. "As a small child I just knew that was what I wanted to do."

His older brother Don began musically mentoring him, introducing Lee to a variety of instruments and sounds. "He would never play one particular type of music, like R&B," says Lee. "I was surrounded by jazz, hard rock and roll, easy listening, gospel, reggae, country music; I mean I was a sponge absorbing all of that." Lee taught himself to play drums by beating on cardboard boxes, gaining a rep around the way for his timekeeping, and his singing voice. Emulating his favorites, Earth Wind & Fire and Cameo, he formed groups with other kids with era-evocative band names like Concept and TNT Connection, and emerged as the leader of disciplined rehearsals. "I made them practice," says Lee. "We practiced and practiced and practiced. Because I wanted that perfection." By high school the most accomplished of these bands would take top prize in a prominent local talent show. It was a big moment for Lee, and he felt ready to take things to the next level. But his band-mates had other ideas.

"I don't know what happened," he says, still miffed at the memory. "It must have blew they mind after we won and people started showing notice, because it's like everybody quit! I was like, where the hell did everybody go?" Lee had always made a point of interrogating prospective musicians about their intentions before joining his groups: were they really serious or just looking for a way to pick up girls? Now he understood even more the importance of finding a collaborator just as committed to the music as he was.

=

Isaac Manning had spent much of his life immersed in music and the arts – singing in the church choir with his family on Nashville's north side, writing, painting, dancing, and working various gigs within the entertainment industry. After serving in the armed forces, in the early '70s he ran The Teenage Place, a music and performance venue that catered to the local youth. But he was forced out of town when word of one of his recreational routines created a stir beyond the safe haven of his bohemian circles.

"I was growing marijuana," Isaac explains. "It wasn't no business, I was smoking it myself… I would put marijuana in scrambled eggs, cornbread and stuff." His weed use originated as a form of self-medication to combat severe tooth pain. But when he began sharing it with some of the other young people he hung out with, some of who just so happened to be the kids of Nashville politicians, the cops came calling. "When I got busted," he remembers, "they were talking about how they were gonna get rid of me because they didn't want me saying nothing about they children because of the politics and stuff. So I got my family, took two raggedy cars, and left Nashville and went to Vegas."

Out in the desert, Isaac happened to meet Chubby Checker of "The Twist" fame while the singer was gigging at The Flamingo. Impressed by Isaac's zeal, Checker invited him to go on the road with him as his tour manager/roadie/valet. The experience gave Isaac a window into a part of the entertainment world he'd never encountered – a glimpse of what a true pop act's audience looked like. "Chubby Checker, none of his shows were played for Black folks," he remembers. "All his gigs were done at high-class white people areas." Returning home after a few years with Chubby, Isaac was properly motivated to make it in Music City. He began writing songs and scouting around Nashville for local talent anywhere he could find it with an expressed goal: "Find someone who can deliver your songs the way you want 'em delivered and make people feel what you want them to feel."

One day while walking through Edgehill Projects Isaac heard someone playing the drums in a way that made him stop and take notice. "The music was so tight, just the drums made me feel like, oh I'm-a find this person," he recalls. "So I circled through the projects until I found who it was.

"That's how I met him – Lee Tracy. When I found him and he started singing and stuff, I said, ohhh, this is somebody different."

=

Theirs was a true complementary partnership: young Lee possessed the raw talent, the older Isaac the belief. "He's really the only one besides my brother and my family that really seen the potential in me," says Lee. "He made me see that I could do it."

Isaac long being a night owl, his house also made for a fertile collaborative environment – a space where there always seemed to be a new piece of his visual art on display: paintings, illustrations, and dolls and figures (including an enigmatic cardboard robot). Lee and Issac would hang out together and talk, listen to music, conjure ideas, and smoke the herb Isaac had resumed growing in his yard. "It got to where I could trust him, he could trust me," Isaac says of their bond. They also worked together for hours on drawings, spreading larges rolls of paper on the walls and sketching faces with abstract patterns and imagery: alien-like beings, tri-horned horse heads, inverted Janus-like characters where one visage blurred into the other.

Soon it became apparent that they didn't need other collaborators; self-sufficiency was the natural way forward. At Isaac's behest Lee, already fed up with dealing with band musicians, began playing around with a poly-sonic Yamaha keyboard at the local music store. "It had everything on it – trumpet, bass, drums, organ," remembers Lee. "And that's when I started recording my own stuff."

The technology afforded Lee the flexibility and independence he craved, setting him on a path other bedroom musicians and producers around the world were simultaneously following through the '80s into the early '90s. Saving up money from day jobs, he eventually supplemented the Yamaha Isaac had gotten him with Roland and Casio drum machines and a Moog. Lee was living in an apartment in Hillside at that point caring for his dad, who'd been partially paralyzed since early in life. In the evenings up in his second floor room, the music put him in a zone where he could tune out everything and lose himself in his ideas.

"Oh I loved it," he recalls. "I would really experiment with the instruments and use a lot of different sound effects. I was looking for something nobody else had. I wanted something totally different. And once I found the sound I was looking for, I would just smoke me a good joint and just let it go, hit the record button." More potent a creative stimulant than even Isaac's weed was the holistic flow and spontaneity of recording. Between sessions at Isaac's place and Lee's apartment, their volume of output quickly ballooned.

"We was always recording," says Lee. "That's why we have so much music. Even when I went to Isaac's and we start creating, I get home, my mind is racing, I gotta start creating, creating, creating. I remember there were times when I took a 90-minute tape from front to back and just filled it up."

"We never practiced," says Isaac. "See, that was just so odd about the whole thing. I could relate to him, and tell him about the songs I had ideas for and everything and stuff. And then he would bring it back or whatever, and we'd get together and put it down." Once the taskmaster hell bent on rehearsing, Lee had flipped a full 180. Perfection was no longer an aspiration, but the enemy of inspiration.

"I seen where practicing and practicing got me," says Lee. "A lot of musicians you get to playing and they gotta stop, they have to analyze the music. But while you analyzing you losing a lot of the greatness of what you creating. Stop analyzing what you play, just play! And it'll all take shape."

=

"I hope you understood the beginning of the record because this was invented from a dream I had today… (You tell me, I'll tell you, we'll figure it out together)" – Lee Tracy and Isaac Manning, "Hope You Understand"

Lee lets loose a maniacal cackle when he acknowledges that the material that he and Isaac recorded was by anyone's estimation pretty out there. It's the same laugh that commences "Hope You Understand" – a chaotic transmission that encapsulates the duality at the heart of their music: a stated desire to reach people and a compulsion to go as leftfield as they saw fit.

"We just did it," says Lee. "We cut the music on and cut loose. I don't sit around and write. I do it by listening, get a feeling, play the music, and the lyrics and stuff just come out of me."

The approach proved adaptable to interpreting other artists' material. While recording a cover of Whitney Houston's pop ballad "Saving All My Love For You," Lee played Whitney's version in his headphones as he laid down his own vocals – partially following the lyrics, partially using them as a departure point. The end result is barely recognizable compared with the original, Lee and Isaac having switched up the time signature and reinvented the melody along the way towards morphing a slick mainstream radio standard into something that sounds solely their own.

"I really used that song to get me started," says Lee. "Then I said, well I need something else, something is missing. Something just came over me. That's when I came up with 'Is It What You Want.'"

The song would become the centerpiece of Lee and Isaac's repertoire. Pushed along by a percolating metronomic Rhythm King style beat somewhere between a military march and a samba, "Is It What You Want" finds Lee pleading the sincerity of his commitment to a potential love interest embellished by vocal tics and hiccups subtlely reminiscent of his childhood hero MJ. Absent chord changes, only synth riffs gliding in and out like apparitions, the song achieves a lingering lo-fi power that leaves you feeling like it's still playing, somewhere, even after the fade out.

"I don't know, it's like a real spiritual song," Lee reflects. "But it's not just spiritual. To me the more I listen to it it's like about everything that you do in your everyday life, period. Is it what you want? Do you want a car or you don't want a car? Do you want Jesus or do you want the Devil? It's basically asking you the question. Can't nobody answer the question but you yourself."

In 1989 Lee won a lawsuit stemming from injuries sustained from a fight he'd gotten into. He took part of the settlement money and with Isaac pressed up "Saving All My Love For You" b/w "Is It What You Want" as a 45 single. Isaac christened the label One Chance Records. "Because that's all we wanted," he says with a laugh, "one chance."

Isaac sent the record out to radio stations and major labels, hoping for it to make enough noise to get picked up nationally. But the response he and Lee were hoping for never materialized. According to Isaac the closest the single got to getting played on the radio is when a disk jock from a local station made a highly unusual announcement on air: "The dude said on the radio, 107.5 – 'We are not gonna play 'Is It What You Want.' We cracked up! Wow, that's deep.

"It was a whole racist thing that was going on," he reflects. "So we just looked over and kept on going. That was it. That was about the way it goes… If you were Black and you were living in Nashville and stuff, that's the way you got treated." Isaac already knew as much from all the times he'd brought he and Lee's tapes (even their cache of country music tunes) over to Music Row to try to drum up interest to no avail.

"Isaac, he really worked his ass off," says Lee. "He probably been to every record place down on Music Row." Nashville's famed recording and music business corridor wasn't but a few blocks from where Lee grew up. Close enough, he remembers, for him to ride his bike along its back alleys and stumble upon the occasional random treasure, like a discarded box of harmonicas. Getting in through the front door, however, still felt a world away.

"I just don't think at the time our music fell into a category for them," he concedes. "It was before its time."

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Lee stopped making music some time in the latter part of the '90s, around the time his mom passed away and life became increasingly tough to manage. "When my mother died I had a nervous breakdown," he says, "So I shut down for a long time. I was in such a sadness frame of mind. That's why nobody seen me. I had just disappeared off the map." He fell out of touch with Isaac, and in an indication of just how bad things had gotten for him, lost track of all the recordings they'd made together. Music became a distant memory.

Fortunately, Isaac kept the faith. In a self-published collection of his poetry – paeans to some of his favorite entertainment and public figures entitled Friends and Dick Clark – he'd written that he believed "music has a life of its own." But his prescience and presence of mind were truly manifested in the fact that he kept an archive of he and Lee's work. As perfectly imperfect as "Is It What You Want" now sounds in a post-Personal Space world, Lee and Isaac's lone official release was in fact just a taste. The bulk of the Is It What You Want album is culled from the pair's essentially unheard home recordings – complete songs, half-realized experiments, Isaac's blue monologues and pronouncements et al – compiled, mixed and programmed in the loose and impulsive creative spirit of their regular get-togethers from decades ago. The rest of us, it seems, may have finally caught up to them.

On the prospect of at long last reaching a wider audience, Isaac says simply, "I been trying for a long time, it feels good." Ever the survivor, he adds, "The only way I know how to make it to the top is to keep climbing. If one leg break on the ladder, hey, you gotta fix it and keep on going… That's where I be at. I'll kill death to make it out there."

For Lee it all feels akin to a personal resurrection: "It's like I was in a tomb and the tomb was opened and I'm back… Man, it feels so great. I feel like I'm gonna jump out of my skin." Success at this stage of his life, he realizes, probably means something different than what it did back when he was singing and dancing in Isaac's front yard. "What I really mean by 'making it,'" he explains isn't just the music being heard but, "the story being told."

Occasionally Lee will pull up "Is It What You Want" on YouTube on his phone, put on his headphones, and listen. He remembers the first time he heard his recorded voice. How surreal it was, how he thought to himself, "Is that really me?" What would he say to that younger version of himself now?

"I would probably tell myself, hang in there, don't give up. Keep striving for the goal. And everything will work out."

Despite what's printed on the record label, sometimes you do get more than one chance.

Growing Bin say sayonara to summer with these bittersweet Balearic gems from Japan’s Nuback. Emotional pop and daydream dub to make you feel younger than yesterday. While the Discogs hipsters hastily hunt down the last, lost street soul OGs, Growing Bin choose instead to indulge in a little Nuback swing. Enlisting the talents of Tokyo’s Dai Nakamura, Hamburg’s home for sensitive sounds provide a much needed vinyl release for the misty-eyed ‘When The Party Is Over’ and ‘Heartbeat Summer’. Largely operating through his own Too Young Records, Nuback trades in textured soul, sympathetic synthesis and forlorn funk - a master at making you move while breaking your heart. Back in 2013, he waved ‘Goodbye To Summer, Again’, giving a digital release to these two tracks, which lurked a little low for the radar until Dai and Basso met somewhere beyond the algorithm, soon bringing this release to bloom. Opening with a fanfare of featherlight pads and full bodied bass, ‘When The Party Is Over’ is pure sonic seduction, holding both Balearic boogie and City Pop in a tender embrace. Delicate guitar and sparkling sequences tug the heartstrings with nostalgic beauty, and Dai’s smooth vocals are made to make you swoon. Emotional pop at its finest folks. On the B-side, ‘Heartbeat Summer’ drops the tempo and soaks up the sun, losing its cares in a haze of loved up dub. As soulful keys sink into spring reverb and steam kettle synths ride a rolling bassline, this downbeat delight lays back in the long grass, making shapes from the clouds and sipping a cool koshu. For summer lovers everywhere; A facemask ruins a first kiss, so start your romance right with Nuback.

In the five years since, Larsen has moved across the country, studied philosophy
at a small liberal arts college, dropped out, and then moved across the country
again. Their life was also put on pause after the sudden death of their first love.
“This loss left so many people with so many unanswered questions, myself
included. I haven’t always arrived at answers to these questions, but songwriting
has provided me with a way to at least ask.” The first voice we hear on Good Grief
does not belong to Larsen, but to their first love. “Ready?” she asks. As if to
answer her, the album begins with an audio recording from 2013 of Larsen and
their high school friends singing Sufjan Stevens’ song "The Predatory Wasp Of
The Palisades Is Out To Get Us!" around a campfire. “When the record starts and
my ex says “ready?” there’s a part of me that feels like - in some way - she’s
asking grown-up-me if I’m “ready” to share my songs about grief now.” Good Grief
captures a coming-of-age story - of an artist and of a human being - as they try to
navigate the terrain of their existence and that of those around them. It’s an
experience of their loss but also honours the person that was lost to them. The
record closes with a reprise of the “Wasps” audio recording, marrying the past
and present as the old voice memo slowly fades into a newer one. Present-day
Larsen sings, “I can tell you I love her each day”: a testament to the fact that their
grief is-- finally--good.Packaging: LP Opaque "Yellowjacket" LP, with cover mount
marketing sticker

Heady with hooks and unforgettable melodies, gliding on deeply danceable grooves, always with Air Waves’ innate compassion, concision and uncanny pop sense shining throughout. A masterpiece that’s beautifully simple, instantly accessible and entirely addictive. Featuring Cass Mccombs, Skyler Skjelset (Fleet Foxes, Beach House), Luke Temple, Brian Betancourt (Hospitality, Sam Evian), Rina Mushonga, Frankie Cosmos, Lispector, David Christian, Ethan Sass, and Ben Florencio. ‘The Dance’ has waited three years to see the light of day and it comes to us now, blinking, smiling in the widening light of 2022 feeling more needed and necessary but also more joyous than ever before. It’s both a snapshot of these songs as they were recorded but crucially, in the intervening time those songs have had additional arrangements crafted by Nicole, created remotely and virtually, with a few like-minded collaborators. The result is simultaneously Air Waves freshest, most spontaneous yet finessed album yet. Nicole Schneit released their first independent album in 2009 under the Air Waves moniker, a name inspired by a Guided By Voices song - subsequent albums like 2010’s ‘Dungeon Dots’ (which featured a guest vocal from fellow Brooklynite Sharon Van Etten), 2015’s ‘Parting Glances’ and 2017’s stunning ‘Warrior’ crystallised Schneit’s vision of loose-but-focused, convivial but startling pop. ‘The Dance’ continues that trajectory but finds Schneit opening up their music to a more fluid sense of space and movement, while keeping their lyrical eye between the personal and the political, from the specific to the universal with a haiku-like directness and suggestion. You won’t find a better soundtrack for the solidarity, strength, romance and movement we all need right now than ‘The Dance’ - Air Waves’ best album yet // “There is a rawness, both musical and emotional, proving that the simplest ways to communicate feelings are sometimes the most effective” Pitchfork // “More varied and ambitious than ever” Stereogum // Track List A1 The Roof (feat. Luke Temple & Rina Mushonga) A2 The Dance A3 Star Earring (feat. Lispector) A4 Alien (feat. Cass McCombs) B1 Black Metal Demon (feat. Frankie Cosmos & Merce Lemon) B2 Treehouse B3 Wait B4 The Light B5 Peer Peer

Hand Stamped, Hand numbered, Limited press, with insert.

An oddly familiar/familiarly odd entity floating about the relatively cohesive surface of contemporary electronic music, Belgium-via-Italy based duo Front De Cadeau has been knocking genres askew and blowing overused terminologies out of the water with unrelenting panache over the past decade. Championing a sound unmoored by vanishing trends and cross-pollinating approaches, F2C punch back in on Antinote with their anticipated debut album, “We Slowly Riot”, an 8-track mishmash of tunes previously released and not.

Bastardizing tried-and-tested rave tropes by slowing the tempo down to barely recognizable shapes and contours, Hugo Sanchez and Maurizio Ferrara dish out a new high in their ever expanding discography. Free-falling down the K-hole with no parachute on, “La Ketamine” burns slow but steady. A practically immersive dub filled with processed minutiae and vibrational drums out a mystic forest, it’s a helluva trippy post-industrial joint that unfolds, heady and empyreumatic to the bone. “We Slowly Rot” puts on offer a buggy script-like swing, adorned with F2C’s trademark blend of spoken word and jacuzzi-warm vibes, whereas “There is Something Wrong” steers us into further sizzling, syncopated groove territories through a fevered meshwork of sliced-and-diced vox samples, overheated machine talk and primitive percussions on a African Headcharge tip.

Draped in eerie, 8-bit-infused layers and Arabian Nights ambiences, “Slam is Slam” treats us to a spookily fun Oriental mix of hot-tempered darbukkahs and FX-soaked riffs. The outrageously sensual “Ouvre Ta Bouche” is a tactile invitation to get down in some dark alcove of sorts and more if you hit it off. A steely dub primed for post-party divagations, “Climate Change” slowly veers off into verbed-out industrial jazz as bars run by, while “Legal Illegal” cuts a path of acid-dipped dancehall from outer-space across the club. Last but not least, Jewish clarinets quietly move along waves of sedated bass on “Casa Gaza”, rounding it all off on a dreamy, cinematic note that serenely phases into a liquid-like roller over one solidly deeper-than-deep home stretch.