Cerca:t shirt boy

Als eine der beliebtesten britischen Bands der letzten vier Jahrzehnte blicken The Charlatans auf eine Karriere mit 14 Alben, drei Nummer-1-Alben in Großbritannien und epochalen Hymnen wie "The Only One I Know", "North Country Boy" und "One to Another" zurück. Sie feiert ihr bahnbrechendes Debütalbum aus dem Jahr 1990. Die 20 Songs auf dieser Veröffentlichung umfassen das Originalalbum sowie eine Auswahl von Bonustracks, die Tim Burgess speziell für diese Veröffentlichung zusammengestellt hat. Das Album wurde von Frank Arkwright in den Abbey Road Studios neu gemastert und wird auf doppeltem weißem Vinyl mit bedruckter Innenhülle gepresst. Es ist auch als 2XCD erhältlich.

*13 ripping songs totalling 33 minutes from the original 20-song 65 minute master reel tapes, recorded in early February 1978 for producers Flo & Eddie, the night before DMZ (the raw-assed pre-Lyres outfit that never made it!) spent 3 days trapped by a blizzard recording their Sire album. **4 page insert with info, pics and Rick Coraccio's ultra-detailed journal on how it all went down! ***LP includes DOWNLOAD CODE Kapital Ink zine: "In the annals of R&R history, as far as local American rock'n'roll scenes go, Boston is hardly ever looked upon in the same shining light as, say, NY, Detroit, San Francisco or even Austin or Seattle. Unlike those other towns, there's never even been a definitive book about the scene. Maybe it's because Boston is a perennial hard-luck place (just witness the Red Sox) with a serious New York inferiority complex hanging over its head. Boston is ignored by the industry at large, despite the fact that the city has spawned countless heavyweights in both a commercial (Aerosmith, Boston, the Cars) and aesthetic (Modern Lovers, Real Kids, Mission Of Burma) (Crypt editor note: and DMZ!! and LYRES!!) sense. Boston was the first US city to directly reflect the influence of the Velvet Underground, as epitomized by the Modern Lovers, who've proven to be almost as influential in their own right. Fast forward to the days of hardcore, and Boston was one of the pre-eminent strongholds of shave-head mania, shoring up its rep as an angry, intolerant New England outpost. Naturally the town has produced more than its share of local legends: Willie Alexander (who actually was in the Velvet Underground, albeit when the band was on its Lou Reed-less last legs); Jonathan Richman (geekus supremus no small thing considering the subsequent indie hordes, to whom he's a savior); and most of all, the great Real Kids, (Crypt editor note: and DMZ!! and LYRES!!) who could've been the equivalent of the MC5, Stooges or Flamin' Groovies in the annals of American rock if it hadn't been for a series of bad breaks but let's not get into that because it'll only reinforce Boston's eternal self-pitying plight. The fact is, the scene in Boston was more or less built by a string of bands who are so organically-interconnected that it seems like an act of God."

Indonesian duo Kuntari make music that's so distinctive, they had to devise their own genre: primal-core. On Mutu Beton, multiinstrumentalist Tesla Manaf and percussionist Rio Abror dialog with both history and their tropical surroundings in Bandung, West Java's mountainous capital. Using the cornet and hulusi, a free reed instrument made from a bottle gourd and bamboo pipes, Manaf echoes the bellows of local elephants, orangutans and rhinos, grazing Abror's ancestral Indonesian rhythms with potent overdriven riffs and evocative microtonal chimes.

It's music that's profoundly atmospheric and simultaneously raw, recorded live to fully encapsulate the dynamic and deeply human interaction between the two seasoned players. There are elements of sludge metal, noise and post-hardcore, references to traditional folk music and jazz, and gestures towards sound art, 20th century minimalism and dark ambient, but what Kuntari do is completely idiosyncratic -- it's hardly surprising it needed a similarly unique categorization.

Manaf started Kuntari as a solo project, debuting in 2020 with Black Shirt Attracts More Feather and animating his nimble instrumental improvisations with bold electronic processes and booming synthetic drums. And by the time he recorded 2022's acclaimed Last Boy Picked, his approach had evolved significantly; prioritizing organic sounds, he played prepared cornet and piano, bringing in additional percussionists to help devise a ritualistic rhythm section. Abror was one of those performers, and ended up sticking around, playing on 2023's furious LARYNX/STRIDULA, the stylistic precursor for Mutu Beton. At this stage, the duo have racked up a litany of accolades and collaborated with a spectrum of like-minded artists, from noise deity Keiji Haino to fellow Indonesian free-thinker Rully Shabara, who's best known for his work with Senyawa and avant-garde supergroup Osmium. Mutu Beton plays like a lap of honor, showcasing their most kinetic and most feral recordings to date. Kuntari surpass their own high standards, folding history and geography in on itself and suggesting a trailblazing Indonesian cultural movement that's not restricted by highbrow Western conventions. It's not just automation and technology that drives progression, it's interaction and observation. And there's nothing more primal, or revolutionary, than that.

Mobile Fidelity's UltraDisc One-Step 180g 45RPM 2LP Set Plays with Authoritative Tonality, Airiness, and Clarity:
Pressed on MoFi SuperVinyl and Strictly Limited to
3,000 Numbered Copies
1/4” / 15 IPS Dolby A analogue master to DSD 256 to analogue console to lathe

Joni Mitchell is the only artist who could’ve made Hejira. The legendary singer-songwriter said as much when discussing the album decades after its release. Yet that fact seemed obvious from the moment the gold-certified effort streeted in fall 1976. An adventurous travelogue, probing narrative, and offbeat homage to freedom, Hejira remains an inimitable entry in the catalog of recorded music — a spare, gorgeous, meditative series of sonic vignettes comprised of floating harmonic pop, cool jazz, soft rock, and sensitive vocal elements that beckon feelings of motion, discovery, and self-examination.

Sourced from the original analog master tapes, pressed at Fidelity Record Pressing on MoFi SuperVinyl, and strictly limited to 3,000 numbered copies, Mobile Fidelity's UltraDisc One-Step 180g 45RPM 2LP set presents the record ranked the 133rd Greatest of All Time by Rolling Stone with definitive detail, richness, accuracy, and directness. Marking the first time the revered LP has received audiophile treatment, it's one of six iconic 1970s Mitchell records Mobile Fidelity is reissuing on vinyl and SACD.

Playing with a virtually nonexistent noise floor, dead-quiet surfaces, and superior groove definition, this collectible reissue reproduces in enveloping fashion the tones, textures, and craftsmanship that help Hejira function as the equivalent of a liberating trip down an open road with nothing but blue sky, natural landscape, and fresh air in the immediate vicinity. Passages bloom, carry, decay as they do amid an acoustically optimized environment. Soundstages extend far, wide, and deep, with black backgrounds and pinpoint images adding to the realism.

The reference-grade immediacy, airiness, and presence put in transparent perspective Mitchell’s dense strings of words, stream-of-conscious-like phrasing, and unhurried albeit forward momentum. Likewise, the instrumental contributions of her A-list support musicians — a cast that includes L.A. Express members John Guerin, Max Bennett and Tom Scott, plus Neil Young, Victor Feldman, and Abe Most — emerges with breathtaking clarity and dimensionality.

While Mitchell, whose intimate vocals and abstract guitar parts center everything, Mobile Fidelity's restoration of Hejira further reveals the visionary breadth of guitarist Larry Carlton and bassist Jaco Pastorius. Though heard on only four tracks, Pastorius' fretless bass epitomizes the fluid, subtle, flexible, roomy, and shape-shifting characteristics of songs that often appear to transpire out of nowhere akin to the formation of a puffy cumulus cloud overhead. In sync with Mitchell’s voice, Pastorius’ fusion hovers and floats, suspended in a fog you want to deeply inhale. The "grace notes" Mitchell desired on Hejira can now be heard in full. Ditto the luxurious tapestries of alinear lines, fills, and supplements unreeled on Carlton’s six-string.

Visually, the packaging of this UD1S set complements its identity as the copy to own. Housed in a deluxe slipcase, the LPs come in foil-stamped jackets with faithful-to-the-original graphics. This version is for listeners who desire to become immersed in everything about Hejira, including the unforgettable album cover — a pastiche of 14 different photos Mitchell used a Camera Lucida to assemble into one image that’s anchored by a portrait of her in a stoic pose — and the interior shots of Mitchell skating on a frozen Wisconsin lake wearing a pair of black skates, black shirt, and fur cape.

The notion of skating, feeling an awakening wind whipping against your face, and losing yourself to the surroundings are extremely apt for Hejira, which Mitchell wrote after a sequence of trips and relationships prompted her to reflect on the complicated conflicts between independence and marriage, success and satisfaction, duty and desire — and, more specifically, “the cost of being a woman.” The Canadian native delved into such themes before. But never as she does on Hejira, whose liberating, running-away aura doubles as another of Mitchell’s rejections of tradition as well as a suggestion of a better alternative.

At once observational and personal, expansive and insular, cheerful and poignant, Hejira spans a sea of human conditions, emotions, and circumstances. It addresses drifting, isolation, pleasure, place, time, and surroundings with strikingly poetic discourse matched with music that, save for the crooned ballad “Blue Motel Room,” forgoes conventional structures and choruses.

The jazz-based arrangements, marked by scaled-down percussion and all manner of bent, rounded, and unsettled notes, hint that Mitchell has no exact destination in mind. Excursions such as the moody “Furry Sings the Blues,” funky “Coyote” and edgy “Black Crow” throw open previously locked doors to possibility and journey. They signal it’s time for a welcome departure from norms and the past, one that leads to a heightened sense of clarity and perspective. Or, as Mitchell said upon choosing the album title, it’s time for “leaving the dream, no blame.”

Kesha’s sixth studio album, . (PERIOD) – yes, it's just a period. – is an unapologetic, unfiltered declaration of artistic freedom and fearless authenticity from the 2x GRAMMY® Award-nominated pop icon. Conceived, co-produced and co-written by Kesha, the 11-song collection transcends pop norms to create a raw, daring, and intensely personal sonic journey, a defiant act of self-expression that refuses to adhere to expectations or play it safe.
More than just a new album, . (PERIOD) is Kesha at her most powerful best, turning her experiences into vibrant, audacious art with a spiked heel at the neck of pop culture.
Among its many exhilarating highlights, . (PERIOD) includes 2024’s blockbuster hits “JOYRIDE” and “DELUSIONAL,” both available everywhere now. Currently boasting over 103M streams at Spotify alone, “JOYRIDE” proved a true sensation since its Independence Day release, reaching #6 on Billboard’s “Bubbling Under Hot 100 Singles” and “Hot Dance/Electronic Songs” along with the top 30 on “Pop Airplay” and chart success around the world from the UK to New Zealand. Produced by Zhone and co-written by Kesha, Zhone, and Madison Love, the track marked the triumphant first chapter of a milestone new era for Kesha, celebrating both her long overdue empowerment as an independent artist as well as a powerful sonic evolution following 2023’s critically acclaimed fifth studio album, Gag Order. Along with its popular achievement, “JOYRIDE” has been met by high-profile critical applause from the likes of Rolling Stone, Variety, and Vulture, to name only a few. Perhaps NYLON said it best: “Everything about ‘JOYRIDE’ is a trip…The original glitter-faced party animal of the 2010s is back with a fiery vengeance.”
“JOYRIDE” joined by an equally acclaimed official music video streaming now on YouTube.
Directed by Dimitri Basil (Kylie Minogue, Vance Joy), Cooper Roussel (Unknown Mortal Orchestra, Miami Horror), and Laura Gorun (Joywave, Kings of Leon), the high-octane visual received wide-ranging attention from major publications and top online outlets around the globe, including Billboard, Vulture, and Rolling Stone, the latter of which raved, ““Kesha is taking her foot off the brakes and going full-speed ahead on her new video for ‘JOYRIDE.’ The video sees Kesha racing through the desert in a hot red convertible while being chased by a helicopter, gun-toting assassins, and a shirtless dude hell-bent on catching up to the pop diva.”

Kesha’s sixth studio album, . (PERIOD) – yes, it's just a period. – is an unapologetic, unfiltered declaration of artistic freedom and fearless authenticity from the 2x GRAMMY® Award-nominated pop icon. Conceived, co-produced and co-written by Kesha, the 11-song collection transcends pop norms to create a raw, daring, and intensely personal sonic journey, a defiant act of self-expression that refuses to adhere to expectations or play it safe.
More than just a new album, . (PERIOD) is Kesha at her most powerful best, turning her experiences into vibrant, audacious art with a spiked heel at the neck of pop culture.
Among its many exhilarating highlights, . (PERIOD) includes 2024’s blockbuster hits “JOYRIDE” and “DELUSIONAL,” both available everywhere now. Currently boasting over 103M streams at Spotify alone, “JOYRIDE” proved a true sensation since its Independence Day release, reaching #6 on Billboard’s “Bubbling Under Hot 100 Singles” and “Hot Dance/Electronic Songs” along with the top 30 on “Pop Airplay” and chart success around the world from the UK to New Zealand. Produced by Zhone and co-written by Kesha, Zhone, and Madison Love, the track marked the triumphant first chapter of a milestone new era for Kesha, celebrating both her long overdue empowerment as an independent artist as well as a powerful sonic evolution following 2023’s critically acclaimed fifth studio album, Gag Order. Along with its popular achievement, “JOYRIDE” has been met by high-profile critical applause from the likes of Rolling Stone, Variety, and Vulture, to name only a few. Perhaps NYLON said it best: “Everything about ‘JOYRIDE’ is a trip…The original glitter-faced party animal of the 2010s is back with a fiery vengeance.”
“JOYRIDE” joined by an equally acclaimed official music video streaming now on YouTube.
Directed by Dimitri Basil (Kylie Minogue, Vance Joy), Cooper Roussel (Unknown Mortal Orchestra, Miami Horror), and Laura Gorun (Joywave, Kings of Leon), the high-octane visual received wide-ranging attention from major publications and top online outlets around the globe, including Billboard, Vulture, and Rolling Stone, the latter of which raved, ““Kesha is taking her foot off the brakes and going full-speed ahead on her new video for ‘JOYRIDE.’ The video sees Kesha racing through the desert in a hot red convertible while being chased by a helicopter, gun-toting assassins, and a shirtless dude hell-bent on catching up to the pop diva.”

Maybe this warning is not really relevant. It doesn’t scare anyone anymore. We all know that what is actually hiding behind this green fence is a sweet doggy only waiting to happily greet you.

First there's Gabriel, who you probably already saw playing crazy drums (with Terrenoire, Cola Boyy…). And then there's Facundo, the magician on the synth and on his choice of shirts.

Together they are Chien Méchant: a duo made of two friends who met at the hairdresser (and in high school), and that makes you wonder if groove, rock, funk and synths could maybe coexist one more time.

The release of their first self titled EP Chien Méchant gave prominence to their first inspirations - as first releases usually do - and showed off their influences. They were at the same time trying to prove themselves but also preparing us for what is to come: the real journey.

A journey that will start next January with Métamorphose. A first album that will display a cast smelling like leather, like a John Carpenter movie with GrandMarnier (Yelle) directing, Ouai Stéphane on the mix and of course Gabriel & Facundo taking a twisted pleasure in deconstructing our common preconception on pop music.

Métamorphose has many shapes - don’t forget a dog can have 3 heads. The track “Nuit Blanche” reminds us of our dancefloor trances. “Sens Contraire” is a drum/synth ballad that takes us by the hand and slowly whispers in our ear that it is ok to be anxious. “Point Final” is pretty self explanatory and makes us feel like we are back on the dancefloor saying “ok this is the last one”. There are ten tracks on this album that will be released alongside their label - Nowadays Records.

You will quickly understand that Chien Méchant is a live band. You will dream about these drums, these blinking synths, these psychedelic carpets, and about dancing without thinking about what’s next. But beware, Métamorphose also reminds us that they are way more than that.

+ REPRESS OF THE LONG OUT OF PRINT DEBUT ALBUM BY THE COATHANGERS + LIMITED EDITION FOURTH LP PRESSING ON NEON BUTTERFLY VINYL + REMASTERED WITH TWO BONUS TRACKS + EXPANDED ARTWORK BY BRADFORD COX (DEERHUNTER, ATLAS SOUND) + HOUSED IN A GATEFOLD JACKET + DL COUPON // Eighteen years ago, four young Atlanta women picked up instruments without any prior musical experience or lofty aspirations and decided that they were going to start a band so that they could play a friend's party. The house-show begat more shows around town, and the feisty and fiery live sets begat an album. Recorded during a single graveyard shift at a local studio and mixed the following night, the self-titled debut album by The Coathangers was a raw, rowdy, and revelrous affair. What it lacked in polish it made up for in its undeniable energy and charisma. "We didn't think anyone was going to listen to it," says vocalist/guitarist Julia Kugel. "We knew our friends in Atlanta would get it, but we didn't think it was going to go anywhere. We were just excited to make a record." Little did Kugel or her bandmates_vocalist/drummer Stephanie Luke, bassist/vocalist Meredith Franco, and keyboardist Candice Jones_know that their scrappy house show-anthems would catch on, prompting years of international tours, a slew of excellent LPs and singles, and, eventually, a deluxe version of their boisterous debut, The Coathangers. The eponymous debut album by The Coathangers is a whirlwind ride of a band at the most frenzied, celebratory, and free moment of their existence. As a standalone record, it's a brash and bawdy rocker sure to please anyone who likes their rock n' roll sweaty and messy. As a piece in the band's legacy, it's an exhilarating reminder of the band's youthful care-free beginnings. The deluxe remastered version of The Coathangers includes the bonus tracks "Wife Eyes" from the Hard Candy EP and the title track from the Never Wanted You EP. The Coathangers on vinyl features expanded artwork by Bradford Cox (Deerhunter, Atlas Sound) in a gatefold jacket.

Destroy All Neighbors is a twisted splatter-comedy about a deranged journey of self-discovery full of goopy practical FX, a well-known ensemble cast, and LOTS of blood. William Brown (Jonah Ray Rodrigues), is a neurotic, self-absorbed musician determined to finish his prog-rock magnum opus, facing a creative roadblock in the form of a noisy and grotesque neighbor named Vlad (Alex Winter).

He finally works up the nerve to demand that Vlad keep it down, and William inadvertently decapitates him. But, while attempting to cover up one murder, William's accidental reign of terror causes victims to pile up and become undead corpses who torment and create more bloody detours on his road to prog-rock Valhalla. The soundtrack is an infectious slice of progressive rock cues, EDM freakouts, 80’s synth pop and so much more by the brilliant Ryan Kattner & Brett Morris. Released in conjunction with SUB POP Records, and features an original song by MAN MAN, artwork by Johnny Dombrowski, and pressed on coloured vinyl.

xd H2 Rockers Revenge - Walking On Sunshine feat. Donnie Calvin (12" Version)

The Norwegian indie-pop super-group with members from Making Marks, The Little Hands of Asphalt, Mildfire, Flight Mode and Elva return with a third album of original Christmas songs.

Get into that alternative, Nordic Christmas spirit! Christmas III at its heart is an alt-Christmas album: the songs are firmly rooted in December’s festivities, albeit not usually relying on the season’s traditional reference points. The songs hone in on the more ambivalent sides of Christmas - family, customs and the passing of time - with a keen eye towards the holidays’ most obvious function in countries close to the Artic circle: getting through the cold and dark times to celebrate the winter solstice and the turning of the sun. Drawing from Sufjan Stevens’ epic indie Christmas compendium and Phil Spector’s wall of sound classic A Christmas Gift From You, Christmas III is built on shimmering guitars, snow filled piano lines, gentle strings, springy vocals and dynamic drums - all steadily conducted by Sunturns’ own Sjur Lyseid (Flight Mode, The Little Hands of Asphalt) in the producer’s seat at his Globus studio in Oslo. With 3 songwriters (Ola Innset, Einar Stray & Sjur Lyseid) contributing to Christmas III, there’s an ever shifting sense of reflections. Parenthood and the struggles of the dark Norwegian winter is behind Ola’s track First Winter. “Sometimes I feel bad about bringing children into such a difficult world. Not so much with respect to daylight and the seasons, they’re just going to have to learn how to live with it, but with many other things – like war, poverty, climate change and even just death.” Back In Town might have been inspired by a discussion over whether Thin Lizzy’s “The Boys Are Back In Town” is a Christmas song or not, but it’s written about his youngest daughter Klara, to his elder daughter, about taking holidays with your family in a town you once lived. Einar pulls in Phoenix and Mew by the way of Jesus and Mary Chain on Crash Course Christmas, resulting in a seasick wave of a pop tune. “It’s a song about the guilt of not prioritizing your relationships. It’s been year of rainchecks and Christmas finally gives you some time to reflect. You’ve experienced so much and changed so much as a person that you almost forget your origins. Coming home for Christmas can then be a ritual of finding your way back to what you left behind." Drawing on the knitwear from the film Love, Actually, Turtle Neck, taps into the Backstreet Boys by way of Mac Demarco, with a sneaky reference to the legendary Norwegian Christmas hit En Stjerne Skinner I Natt. Album closer This Christmas / Next Christmas leans in on the hook for the Norwegian Christmas TV show Jul i Blåfjell, a multi-generational seasonal staple (essentially a daily children’s advent calendar kids show). “The song is about your parents ageing and needing your help – possibly really far away - while at the same time having your own children to take care of”. The cover artwork is a homage to Christmas dress codes for Norwegian men. Suits and shirts are a rarity in day to day life, but there are a handful of occasions that require some form of formal attempt at a suit: New Year’s Eve, National Day, weddings & funerals, and Christmas Eve: resulting in various degrees of sartorial elegance on the day (and on this instance, a hot summer’s day stifling the Christmas vibes, with ambiguous apparel instructions ahead of the photoshoot!).

Merry Christmas! Sunturns are Ola Innset – vocals, guitars, banjo. Sjur Lyseid – vocals, guitars. Einar Stray – vocals, keyboards, guitars. Eivind Almhjell – guitars, bass. Simen Herning – guitar. Jørgen Nordby – drums.

NOW Music is proud to present the newest addition to the ‘Yearbook’ series: NOW – Yearbook 1981. NOW – Yearbook 1981; a celebration of the eclectic and creative brilliance of the year in pop. 4 CDs of 85 tracks that defined the charts in 1981. Available on a 4CD special edition which is housed in ‘hard-back book’ packaging, including a 28-page booklet with a summary of the year, a track-by-track guide, a quiz, and original singles artwork, and as a standard 4-CD package. A limited edition 3LP set pressed in translucent red vinyl, limited to 3,000 units and a 4CD set

Confirmed feature article in Electronic Sound Magazine and other media. “There’s A Rhinoceros In The Mega Church” is their debut LP released on Sound Records. U.S.E. (also often expressed as Unicorn Ship Explosion, but feel free to interpret this yourself), are unfortunately two boys known to their mums as Rob & Sash. Since we last saw Rob he has been working really hard as a multi-instrumentalist. He’s almost mastered the drums (he’s even been to jazz school), and he’s near to the final chapter of piano lessons. He’s really talented. He has his own music studio where he produces & writes music for the likes of, The Staves, Holysseus Fly & other fantastic acts that are well worth a listen if you have the time. Sash (or Sasha) is a great guy. Everyone loves working with him. He’s an average musician with big ideas, which is why he uses modular synths. He has written much music for many artists you’ve probably not heard of and has collaborated with some musicians you’ve definitely heard of. He sometimes works as a sound designer for some fashion brands you can’t afford, but you wouldn’t want to wear them anyway (so don’t feel bad for not being successful enough to spend £400 on a t-shirt). Sometimes a really cool woman called, Agnieszka Szczotka, collaborates with these two loveable boys. She is a performance artist of great skill. She studied art at the Royal Academy and chose to abandon her supreme painting and sculpture skills to dedicate her life to confrontational live performance art. Big respect. Together they are Unicorn Ship Explosion (not yet known as U.S.E. as it hasn’t caught on yet). It’s a creative attempt to be in the present and not overwork music as is often the norm these days.As a result an exciting new genre is emerging from this album. The genre hasn’t a name yet, but what is certain is that A.I. can’t recreate it, and wouldn’t want to either. Let’s be human together and accept and appreciate we can’t always be great. Enjoy the good moments with the bad. And together, yes together, you the reader and us(e) your new best friends, shall show A.I. that humanity is beautiful.

Neuaufgelegte Compilation mit dem ursprünglichen Cover-Artwork (!), klassich schwarzes Vinyl mit DLC! 1982 lösten sich die TVP's nach fünf Jahren als D.I.Y. Pioniere auf (allerdings wurde schon drei Monate danach die Reunion ausgerufen). Die Trennung wurde von der Veröffentlichung des mysteriösen Albums "They Could Have Been Bigger Than The Beatles" begleitet. Die Sammlung mit unveröffentlichten Outtakes und alternativen Versionen von Songs der ersten beiden Alben wurde ursprünglich mit handgemalten Covern (ohne Infos) veröffentlicht. Mit an Bord sind der Klassiker und Live-Favorit "Three Wishes", eine stark veränderte, schnelle, überlegene Version von "David Hockney's Diaries", die Freakbeat-Hymne "The Boy In The Paisley Shirt", die rare Debütsingle "14th Floor" und "Games For Boys", ein lustiger Geniestreich, der textlich wie musikalisch das kindliche Wesen der TVP's ausdrückt. Dazu eigene Versionen von The Creation's "Painter man" und "Making Time" "Their quality and stature remains undiminished even after all these years. Indispensable". - NME

repress !

* A brand new recording from the legendary Max Romeo whose recording career spans six decade. Max is of course best known for hits such as `War in a Babylon', `Chase the Devil' (aka `Iron Shirt' - as sampled by The Prodigy), `One Step Forward', `Wet Dream' and so on.
* This is a recent collaboration with producer Daniel Boyle from Rolling Lion studios who has been nominated for a Grammy Award for his recent album he produced with Lee Perry: `Back on the Controls'.
* This crisp musical biscuit features Max's vocal cut, a horns piece from Hornsman Coyote plus a dub version.
* This will be sure to move fast and won't be repressed

The early Reggae sound that came out of Jamaica between the years 1968 and 1971 became the soundtrack to the skinhead movement in the UK. Not only was the music embraced but also the dress style of the Jamaican Rude Boys.

The skinhead style started around 1968 and by the following year 1969, had become the style and fashion of the British teenagers. The uniform of the skinheads consisted of boots, braces, button down shirts and jeans and the upbeat reggae sounds seemed to match the style perfectly. The tempo of the music in Jamaica had previously slowed down from the more up tempo beat of Ska to the calmer pace of beat called Rock Steady. Some say this was to match the extreme heat wave that was hitting the island between 1966 and 1968. But that period had now passed and the evolution of the Reggae beat had again found a new pulse to hang its songs by. A more up tempo beat that all Jamaicans, British youths and various pockets of people around the world could groove to.

We have selected a cross section of tunes from those heady times, so sit back and enjoy some of the tunes the youths were listening to when the Skinhead Shuffle was all the rage. Hope you enjoy the set….

You remember this 1994 album... it’s the one with the hit song “Need You Around,” which was “around” pretty much everywhere back then, including in the movie Clueless (for that matter, “Lucky Day” from this album was in Tommy Boy, “Mrs. You & Me” was in Angus, and “Gotta Know Right Now” in Boys). That led to the Popes opening for acts like Morrissey, whose voice lead singer and songwriter Josh Caterer— one of three Caterer brothers in the band—rather echoes (Moz himself proclaimed this album “extraordinary, the most lovable thing I’d heard in years”). If you like power pop hooks with heart, look no further...our release comes in pink & white “sunburn” vinyl to honor the front cover photo (put a shirt on, man!) inside a gatefold jacket.

Originalmusik von den Chiptune-Rockern Anamanaguchi (Künstlerveröffentlichungen, Scott Pilgrim Videospiel, Capsule Silence XXIV) und Joseph Trapanese (Oblivion, Straight Outta Compton, No One Will Save You, The Greatest Showman, Skull Island, The Witcher, The Machine, Star Wars: Tales from the Galaxy's Edge, Stuber), mit Originalsongs von Anamanaguchi.

Scott Pilgrim Takes Off ist eine Anime-Streaming-Fernsehserie, die von Bryan Lee O'Malley und BenDavid Grabinski für Netflix entwickelt wurde. Die Serie basiert auf den Scott Pilgrim-Grafikromanen, die von O'Malley geschrieben und gezeichnet wurden, wobei die gesamte Hauptbesetzung aus der Verfilmung von 2010, Scott Pilgrim vs. the World, ihre Rollen für die englische Sprachbesetzung wieder aufnimmt, und dient sowohl als Fortsetzung als auch als Neuinterpretation des Grafikromans und des Films. Die Serie wurde am 17. November 2023 veröffentlicht und von der Öffentlichkeit
begeistert aufgenommen. Im Gegensatz zur Verfilmung, die weitgehend die gleiche Geschichte wie die Comics erzählte, weist "Takes Off" eine völlig eigenständige Handlung auf: Der titelgebende Scott Pilgrim verschwindet in der ersten Folge, und Ramona Flowers, sein Liebesinteresse, steht im Mittelpunkt, während sie versucht, herauszufinden, wer von den Darstellern für sein Verschwinden verantwortlich ist, während andere Figuren in der Geschichte an einer fiktiven Adaption von Scotts Leben arbeiten.

Legendary international DJ, Keb Darge, fell under the spell of this music when his Japanese girlfriend forced him to go down to a ‘Rockabilly’ night back in 1989. As soon as the DJ dropped the needle on Johnny Burnette’s ‘Rockabilly Boogie’ Keb was mesmerized. He was soon hunting down the hideously rare top tunes and slipping thousands of pounds into specialist collectors like Boz Boorer’s back pocket, when the legendary guitarist was not recording or touring with Morrissey. Of course, Keb was then taking these records and introducing them to new audiences in his DJ sets worldwide.

Although it has taken an age to persuade him, Keb has now applied his perfectionist compiling skills to pick 14 killers to grace this fantastic collection. Ranging from the bopping Glen Glenn’s ‘Blue Jeans and A Boy’s Shirt’ to the almost hillbilly Jimmy Johnson’s ‘All Dressed Up’. This is a must-have compilation not only for those who have been oiling their quiffs for decades, but also those wondering what this “rockabilly” is all about. Keb drops you in at the deep end with no easy-going fillers, and you’ll be glad he did.

Keb has written the sleeve notes and with cover art by the legendary Robin Banks – this album looks as good as it sounds.

Limitierte Jubiläumsausgabe des zeitlosen und einflussreichen Indie-Pop-Klassikers von Belle & Sebastian, der der Band einen Brit-Award als Bester Newcomer 1999 einbrachte. Das transparent-hellblaue Vinyl im Gatefold ist dem Original-Werbeposter und T-Shirt von 1998 nachempfunden und kommt mit einem exklusiven Kunstdruck mit Behind-The-Scenes-Fotos aus dem damaligen Promovideo zum Album, aufgenommen von Bandmitglied Sarah Martin. 'The Boy With The Arab Strap' erreichte #12 der britischen Albumcharts, der NME wählte den Titeltrack im Jahr 2011 unter die '150 besten Tracks der letzten 15 Jahre'.

A new perspective is coming from the beaches of Acapulco bay.

Colourful shirts and sensual moves in the shade of palm trees. Presenting the new extravaganza duo “Acapulco Heat”. Comprised of none other than Felipe Valenzuela and new wonder boy, Ossios. 3 tracks to embody different moments and occasions for a set full of mindfulness and unique vibes. Serious but not so serious, futuristic but present, “Intellectuelle EP” will make you surf your inner self. Direct hit for the body with an innovative consistency. Undeniably timeless music to keep in your mind and in your record bag. Extra bonus remix by american producer Titonton Duvante.

Repress in soon, note new price. For the ten-year anniversary of Algernon Cadwallader's first full length, "Some Kind of Cadwallader," Lauren Records and Asian Man Records are reissuing the record along with their second album, "Parrot Flies" (2011), and a new self-titled collection LP. The 16-track collection includes EPs, B-sides, previously unreleased versions, and two covers. Side A re­ects one era of Algernon Cadwallader, and Side B the other. Tracklist: 1. Second Rate Machines 2 Breath Wish 3 Look Down 4 Sailor Set Sail 5 Shirt 6 Serial Killer Status (Unreleased Version) 7 Katie's Conscious (Unreleased Version) 8 Spit Fountain 9 Fun 10 Foggy Mountain 11 Black Clouds 12 I Wanna Go To The Beach 13 Responsible Party 14. Simulation 15 This Boy 16 No Action

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."

=

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.

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."

=

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.

Ex-We Are The Physics and current Slime City vocalist Michael M returns with a brand new album of irreverent lo-fi garage punk bangers

Short, fast, pointed anecdotes crammed into just over 30 minutes (so it's eligible for a Scottish Album of the Year Award) for fans of Weezer, Art Brut, Mike Krol, Half Man Half Biscuit, Mclusky, Jay Reatard. Includes download code and videos for each song.A scathing but reflective attack on the internet's Balloon Guy? 10003;The existential crisis of finding out how old the boy from the Sixth Sense is? A Shangri-Las inspired tragedy-pop song about an old crisp packet?Nu Metal, but polite?


Pressed on a totally randomly assigned Eco Colour Vinyl!

In March 2020, Tahiti 80 had a plan to start recording their new album in the studio. That plan, of course, along with everything else in the world, got derailed. But the five-piece group was resilient and resourceful. They quickly shifted to a socially distanced plan B that included file swapping and virtual sessions, all refereed by producer Julien Vignon. The result, due for release in March 2022, is the buoyant Here With You, a collection of eleven upbeat songs that unfold like a prescription for a post-pandemic panacea.

“When lockdown in France happened, we said, 'We're not going to stay at home not doing anything,'” says singer-guitarist Xavier Boyer. “And our new plan became a hopeful thing, waking up every morning and seeing what the other guys had worked on. It wasn't always easy, but this new method allowed a freer approach where we could really go all the way with an idea without being influenced by each other’s suggestions. It must've been overwhelming for Julien, who ended up selecting all our arrangements. But he stayed positive all the way through.”

To help stay inspired and focused during their time in isolation, the band created a mood board, with the centerpiece a photo of an early '90s rave in the UK.

Boyer says, “Whenever you see pictures from this era, people seem very innocent. There are no cell phones and everybody is in to what they are experiencing. We kept that picture in mind as a kind of mantra that would help everyone feel connected to this idea of people celebrating, gathering and just having fun. We were missing the connection with people, and thought it would be great if we could create music that would inspire that kind of emotion.”

Indeed, the songs on Here With You are brimming the feeling of communion that we've all been missing over the past two years. It's there in the catchy opener Lost in the Sound, which walks the walk with Chic guitar flicks, urban nightfall sparkles and an inviting chorus (“Your heart grooves like a thousand 808s on the right time”). It's there in the Jackson 5-style syncopated bounce of “Vintage Creem,” the lush, dreamy “Breakfast in L.A.” and the panoramic sweep of “UFO.” And it's there in the first single “Hot,” which matches an irresistible groove with a neon-lit, percolating arrangement that evokes the disco clubs of 1979.

What's remarkable is that though Tahiti 80 displays a clear affection for sounds of the past, from bubble gum to '70s soul, they never trade in mere pastiche. Their take is more a slightly warped and playful carnival mirror mash-up of classic pop styles, given depth through Boyer's hang-gliding, coolly emotive vocals and lyrics that often rub against the euphoric grain of the music.

“I like to think of songs as a three-minute drama,” says Boyer. “This concept of drama definitely adds different levels to our music. There's the melody, the lyrics, then the production that can maybe emphasize or counterbalance the interaction between the yin and yang in a song.

“There's a difference between the very upbeat, sunshine-y soft rock and the lyrics, even on our past albums,” he continues. “Not dark, but a little more melancholy, and also looking for some kind of motivation, talking to yourself. Like with a lot of Motown songs, you get that feeling where you body’s dancing while your mind’s reflecting, reminiscing.”

That alluring blend of happy-sad has been a signature part of the Tahiti 80 sound from the time Boyer and bassist Pedro Resende formed the group in 1993, as students at the University of Rouen. Taking their name from a souvenir t-shirt given to Boyer's father in 1980, the duo recruited guitarist Mederic Gontier in 1994, and with the addition of drummer Sylvain Marchand a year later, the lineup was complete. The foursome released a self-produced and self-financed EP, 20 Minutes, in 1996, which resulted a record deal with French label Atmospheriques in 1998. Their full-length debut Puzzle, produced with Ivy's Andy Chase and mixed by Tore Johansson, went gold and featured the international hit “Heartbeat” that established the band throughout Europe and Asia.

In the years since, Tahiti 80 – with the additions of Raphaël Léger on drums and Hadrien Grange on keys - has released eight acclaimed albums. The band has fused what MOJO called a “glorious entente of old and new technology” (including singles like “Yellow Butterfly,” “1000 Times,” “Sound Museum,” “Crush!” and “Big Day,” which was featured on a FIFA video game soundtrack), while collaborating with such producers and arrangers as Richard Swift, Tony Lash and Richard Anthony Hewson, who famously arranged The Beatles' “Long and Winding Road.” Boyer has also put out two solo albums, the first under the anagram Axe Riverboy and the second under his name. In 2019, the band released Fear of an Acoustic Planet, a stripped-down reimagining of some of their best-loved tracks from the previous twenty years. It served not only as a look back but a reminder of their formidable songwriting skills.

Boyer is definitely a student of the timeless three-minute pop song format pioneered by '60s artists like The Beatles and The Beach Boys. He says, “I see it as kind of a frame for a painting. Most of the songs on this album, I wrote a verse, pre-chorus and chorus. There aren't many middle eights. I wanted it to be very concise. I feel like people have less attention. There's so much music. It's too easy to switch off or skip to another track, so I want to hook the listener. The three-minute song is kind of an easy code to crack, but at the same time you have to figure out a new way to tell the stories that we've heard before.”

And the stories on Here With You are very much about the longing for connection. Of the album title, Boyer says, “In the world right now, that can mean a lot of different things. Like missing our fans, missing going to concerts. In a way, it can be a statement of what happened last year, and a wish of 'I want to be here with you again.' It's our ninth album. We've had some had some very open, conceptual titles like Puzzle, Activity Center. Sometimes they were more specific like Fosbury orWallpaper for the Soul. Here with You, seems more personal, more engaging in terms of relationships. When I suggested that title, everyone in the band said, 'Yeah, that's it.'”

Until Tahiti 80 can resume a full tour schedule, Boyer says he hopes the new record will make that personal connection. “If I see from the point of view as a music fan, sometimes I see albums I like as companions throughout my life. So if we can be a part of people's existence, even if it's a song that reminds them of the time they were driving with the windows open and it was sunny. Or a sad song that resonates with them after a breakup. That's what we're all looking for when we're making music. You do this very personal thing and you want it to touch as many people as possible.”

The soundtrack to the movie The United Way. The United Way is the legendary story of ‘The Red Devils’ – Manchester United. From their humblest of beginnings in England’s Industrial North at the turn of the 20th Century, Manchester United gifted working men, women and children alike, the poor and the struggling, a new Dream – a winning Dream of hope, beauty and ambition. Here is a family club which pulled itself, phoenix-like, from the ashes of the horrific Munich air disaster to become champions of European football, committing to a stunning, relentlessly attacking style and elevating working class boys to the status of gods: Charlton, Best, Cantona, Beckham and Ronaldo. Such is the mythical aura of the club, that its stadium is universally known as “The Theatre of Dreams”. Now, with over 650 million supporters around the world, 73m Facebook fans, 18m Twitter followers and 1.8m shirts sold per season, Manchester United are the most celebrated, widely supported sports club in the world. Presented by the peerless Eric Cantona and featuring stunning archive and never seen before footage, “The United Way” celebrates the birth and growth of a global phenomenon – a unifying club for the people, by the people. The whole film is set to a score by George Fenton - one of the UK’s most successful composers, writing scores for over 100 films and dozens of plays and TV programmes. He has been recognised with numerous awards: 5 Oscar nominations, multiple Ivor Novello, BAFTA, Golden Globe, Emmy and BMI awards, a Classical Brit, The Nina Rota Award at Venice and a World Soundtrack Lifetime Achievement Award from Film Fest Gent.

Nach Crazy Rhythms Of Mata Hari, Shake Your Bones, dem Cool Cat Club und Born To Hula! Folgt nun der 5. Teil der DJ-Set Serie auf Stag-O-Lee. Wie auch bei den Vorgängern handelt es sich hier um einen auf 80 Minuten eingedampftes DJ-Set von einem verdienten Recken der Zunft - Keb Darge. Gaz Mayall folgt direkt mit Volume 6. Linernotes: Rockabilly didn't cross my world until the early nineteen eighties at a Dirtbox weekender in Bournemouth, until then I was a pure northern soul boy. I didn't really get stuck into collecting the stuff until a decade later, but when I did what a wonderful world of tunes opened up to me, and I went wild on it. I was very lucky to be doing a record stall in Camden market at the time just across from Boz Boorer and Neil Scott's stall. They along with other serious collectors Dave Vickers, Barney Koumis, Cosmic Keith, Jim Fox, Dave Crozier, and many others taught me all I needed to know. I only ever made one great rockabilly discovery which none of them knew, "Little Bit Lonesome" by Charles Ross, but I was happy enough buying all their recommendations as they were all new and exciting for me. I have done several rockabilly comps before, but sadly the Philippines typhoon in 2013 destroyed my village and forced me to sell the bulk of my collection. Here are some of my favourites that I never got round to putting out before that happened. Two of the aforementioned collectors are no longer with us. I therefore dedicate this comp to Dave Vickers and Cosmic Keith who both had a huge influence on my life and my musical taste.

White Shadows In The South Seas is the title of a book written in 1919 by Frederick O'Brien as part of a trilogy he wrote based on his experiences living in the Pacific islands in the early part of the 20th century. His book was taken as the starting point for a film to be directed, initially, by Robert Flaherty (famous at the time for his groundbreaking documentary / fiction film Nanook Of The North) with W.S.Van Dyke as his support. The film, ultimately, apart from the title, had little to do with O'Brien's book and Flaherty left the film after a few months leaving Van Dyke to finish it.

I purchased O'Brien's book, along with many others, from Basement Books, a secondhand bookstore in Melbourne/Australia. Part of my 'Islomania' and on going fascination with all things Pacific. When I discovered there was a 1929 silent film based on the book I sought it out and started to present it as part of my 'Live Music/Silent films' repertoire. Tabu by Frederick Murnau, which coincidently also had Flaherty as co-director originally, was the first film I ever wrote / improvised a score for and presented as a live film/music performance. My repertoire extends to over 23 films now.

My eclectic and diverse musical and artistic interests extend into 'Hawaiian', 'Exotica', 'Ambient' and 'Electronic' Music. I have produced several volumes of so called 'Electronic, Ambient, Exotica' on CD and Vinyl, including Kiribati, Globe Notes, Rayon Hula ( on Vinyl, CD and digital format ) and most recently, New Globe Note on Vinyl and White Shadows In The South Seas on CD.
White Shadows In The South Seas features some of the music presented in my live screenings of the 1929 silent film.

The film is the story of Dr. Matthew Lloyd, an alcoholic doctor who is disgusted by the exploitation by white people of the natives on a Polynesian island. The natives dive for pearls, however, numerous accidents occur and one diver dies. In anger, Dr. Lloyd punches Sebastian, the employer. As revenge and to prevent further interruption of his activities, he tricks Dr. Lloyd onto a ship with a diseased crew (thinking they are ill) and his men rough him up and send the ship off into a storm. Dr. Lloyd survives and is washed ashore on an island where none of the natives have ever seen a white man before. Lloyd is rescued and ultimately falls in love with the chief's daughter, who is Taboo, hence Lloyd is prevented from pursuing his love for her. An incident occurs and a young boy is thought to have drowned but Lloyd is able to revive him, earning him points and permission with the chief's daughter. Lloyd begins to realise that the local islanders have no sense of the value of the black pearls which grow in abundance around their island and he starts to dive for them and collect them. One morning the white man Sebastian unexpectedly turns up on a scooner and starts to offer the islanders trade for their pearls. Llloyd tries to interrupt the encounter and is shot and dies. His wife and the islanders morn for his dead body and, symbolically, the passing of a way of life.

Mike Cooper plays - Electric and acoustic lap steel guitars / electronics / Zoom Sampletrack / Kaos Pad / Casio SK1 / Korg Drum Machine / Self Made Instruments.

It also features field recordings made on Pulau Ubin by Mike Cooper during a month as Artist In Residence for The Artist Village / Singapore.

I would like to acknowledge and thank Lawrence English (Room40 Records) for his assistance and encouragement with the original recordings and the CD version of White Shadows In The South Seas.

All music written and played by Mike Cooper PRS/MCPS - except Po Mahina (trad. Arr. Cooper) and Hilo Hanakahi (trad. Arr. Cooper)

Recorded and Mixed at the Steelworks in Rome 2012/2013.

A White Shadow In The South Seas
In February 2014 'A White Shadow In The South Seas' was the title of an audio-visual installation I made at the Teatro In Scatola in Rome, Italy, presented as part of a series of sound installations titled 'Visitazioni' produced by Proposte Sonore.

The essay below, as well as our collection of Hawaiian shirts, Exotica and Hawaiian vinyl records, was an inspiration for this installation.

'..the transformation and reconstitution of the souvenir commodity as an indigenous ethnic art form and a scarce relic of Hawai'i's romanticized past...' from - Clothing and Textile Reasearch Journal - From Kitsch to Chic by Marcia A. Morgado.

And....
Michael Thompson's Rubbish Theory (1979)
' ...a critical aspect of Western culture is the pre-disposition to see objects in terms of two overt categories: the transient and the durable. Objects identified as transient have finite life spans and lose value over time, whereas those identified as durable have infinite lives and over time increae in value....category assignments are arbitrary, but once assigned a category membership determines relative value. Fashion apparel-by defenition-is assigned to the transient category; paintings commonly are designated durables....how is it that transient objects.. ( e.g. Hawaiian shirts and vinyl records ) ..sometimes become durables.

Objects assigned to the rubbish category are largely invisible, have no value and, ideally, no life span. Fashion for example, no longer worn and relegated to the back of the wardrobe has fallen into the covert rubbish category. But rubbish can be rescued and transformed. Thompson says ' What I believe happens is a transient object gradually declining in value and in expected life span may slide across into rubbish. Here it exists in a timeless and valueless limbo where it has a chance to be re-discovered and be successfully transformed to a durable. Such transferes are radical: objects gradually slide from transcience to rubbish, but the transformation from rubbish to durable involves an all-or-nothing leap across two boundaries, that separating the worthless from the valuable and that between the covert and the overt. Things drift into obscurity but they leap into prominence.

The delightful consequence of this hypothesis is that in order to study the social control of value we must study rubbish.

The rubbish-to-durable transformation is accompanied by the development of highly specialized knowledge derived from the discovery of subtle variations and complex details that went unnoticed in the objects transient stage. The discoveries initiate renewed interest in the object and its market value begins to climb. As prices soar beyond the reach of ordinary people, the object becomes available only in high priced collectors' markets. Furthermore, as market values rise, the aesthetic value of the object undergoes a reassessment as well, and it becomes increasingly apparent that the objects intrinsic beauty has been overlooked. Ultimately the object is re -assigned as a durable and becomes recognized as a timeless classic.

Exotica, Ambience and Pacificism - A dialogue with Mike Cooper & Professor Philip Hayward Deputy Pro Vice Chancellor of Research Southern Cross University, Lismore, Australia.

Underworld And Iggy Pop Announce Details Of A 4 Track Ep, Teatime Dub Encounters, Due For
Release On July 27th Via Caroline International.

While Overseeing The Soundtrack For T2 Trainspotting, Underworld's Rick Smith Arranged A
Meeting With Iggy Pop In A Room At The Savoy Hotel On London's Strand To Discuss Working On
Collaborative Music For The Filmhe first track from Teatime Dub Encounters - Bells & Circles - was premiered live as part of
Underworld's recent headline performance at the BBC Biggest Weekend Belfast. A second track -
I'll See Big - is streaming everywhere now. Something of a flipside to Bells & Circles, I'll See Big is a
wash of gorgeous ambient sound that features Iggy recounting how friends - however
dysfunctional - have saved him from a lifetime of bad decisions. The lyric for I'll See Big was
inspired by a conversation Iggy had with Danny Boyle about the subtext of both Trainspotting films.

Limited Edition Clear Vinyl

Includes 12' Vinyl and Deluxe CD album, 30 page hard back book

Now that I've been to Nashville,' Kylie Minogue says with audible affection, I understand. It's like some sort of musical ley-line...'

Golden, Kylie's fourteenth studio album, is the result of an intensive working trip to the home of Country music, a city whose influence lingered on long after the pop legend and her team returned to London to finish the record: We definitely brought a bit of Nashville back with us,' she states. The album is a vibrant hybrid, blending Kylie's familiar pop-dance sound with an unmistakeable Tennessee twang. It was Jamie Nelson, Kylie's long-serving A&R man, who first came up with the concept of incorporating a Country element' into Kylie's tried-and-trusted style. That idea sat there for a little while, with Minogue and her team initially unsure about how to bring it to life. Then, when Grammy-winning songwriter Amy Wadge's publisher suggested Kylie should come over to collaborate in Nashville, a city Kylie had previously never visited, something clicked. You know when you're so excited about something,' she recalls, that you repeat it an octave higher and double the decibels I was like that. 'Nashville! Yes! Of course I would!'. I hoped it would help the album to reveal itself. I thought 'If I don't get it in Nashville, I'm not going to get it anywhere.''

Kylie's Nashville trip involved working alongside two key writers, both with homes in the city. One was British-born songwriter Steve McEwan (whose credits include huge Country hits for Keith Urban, Kenny Chesney and Carrie Underwood), and the other was the aforementioned Amy Wadge, another Brit (best known for her mega-selling work with Ed Sheeran). It was then a truly international project: Golden was mainly created with African-German producer Sky Adams and a list of contributors including Jesse Frasure, Eg White, Jon Green, Biff Stannard, Samuel Dixon, Danny Shah and Lindsay Rimes, and there's a duet with English singer Jack Savoretti.

However, the album's agenda-setting lead single Dancing was, significantly, first demoed with Nathan Chapman, the man who guided Taylor Swift's transition from Country starlet to Pop megastar. If anyone knows how to mix those two genres, Chapman does. Nathan was the only actual Nashvillean I worked with. He's got a huge studio in his house, which is probably due to his success with Taylor... there's plenty of platinum discs of her, and others on his walls.' There's something of the spirit of Peggy Lee's Is That All There Is, of Dylan Thomas' Do Not Go Gentle Into That Good Night, even of Liza Minnelli's Cabaret about Dancing, a song which not only opens the album but sets out its stall, providing a microcosm of what is to come. You've got the lyrical edge, that Country feel, mixed with some sampling of the voice and electronic elements, so it does what it says on the label. And I love that it's called 'Dancing', it's immediately accessible and seemingly so obvious, but there's depth within the song.'

The experience of simply being in Nashville was an overwhelming one, before Kylie had even arrived. Once I knew I was going to Nashville, people talked about the place with such enthusiasm. They said without doubt I would love it and, I would come back with songs. They were sending lists of restaurants, coffee shops and bars. It really was a beautiful and genuine response and it felt like I was about to have a life changing experience and in a way, I did.' The reality came as something of a surprise, when she found a far more modern metropolis than the vintage one she'd envisaged. I thought it would be like New Orleans: little houses and bars, with music spilling out onto the street. It reminded me more of Melbourne: apartment blocks going up everywhere! The main strip, Broadway, where the honky tonk bars are, that's where the street was filled with music and it was just amazing.' Mainly, Minogue remembers the heat and humidity. It was 100 degrees. It was like it was raining with no rain.' She also relished the chance to wander around unrecognised, visit a few venerable music bars and soak in the atmosphere. I didn't get to the Grand Ole Opry or the music museums but I managed to go to a couple of the institutions there like The Bluebird Cafe and The Listening Room, and just by being there, through some kind of osmosis, you get this rejuvenated respect for The Song, and the writing of The Song. There's no hoo-hah around it. There's a singer-songwriter there, talking about the song and singing the song, to an audience who are there to listen. Although, I have to confess I was guilty of starting to clap too soon during a long pause at the end of one of the songs. The guy made a bit of a joke out of it and got a laugh from it, but I thought 'Of all people in the audience, no...''

It's probably no coincidence, therefore, that every track on Golden is a Kylie co-write, making it arguably her most personal album to date. The end of 2016 was not a good time for me,' she says, referring to well-documented personal upheavals, so when I started working on the album in 2017, it was, in many ways, a great escape. Making this album was a kind of saviour. I'd been through some turmoil and was quite fragile when I started work on it, but being able to express myself in the studio made quick work of regaining my sense of self. Writing about various aspects of my life, the highs and lows, with a real sense of knowing and of truth. And irony. And joy!'

The songwriting process allowed Kylie to get a few things out of her system. Initially, she admits, it was cathartic, but it also wasn't very good. I think I was writing too literally. But I reached a point where I was writing about the bigger-picture, and that was a breakthrough. It made way for songs like Stop Me From Falling and One Last Kiss. It also meant I had enough distance to write an autobiographical song, like A Lifetime To Repair, with a certain amount of humour. The countdown in that song: 'Six-five-four-three, too many times...'. I don't know if that will be a single, but I can just imagine a girl with framed pictures of past boyfriends, and kind of going 'Oh god, when am I going to get this right'' When she listens back to Golden, Kylie can vividly hear the Nashville in it. It is, she'll agree, probably the first time that a Kylie album has sounded like the place it was made. You wouldn't normally relate my songs to the cities. Can't Get You Out Of My Head sounds more like Outer Space than London. But Shelby '68, for example, was written in London but it was done with Nashville in mind. It's about my Dad's car, and my brother recorded Dad driving it! I don't think I'd have written a number of the songs, including Shelby '68 and Radio On without having had that Nashville experience.'

The latter, she says, is about music being the one to save you.' Throwing herself into the making of the record, she says, crystallised that idea. If there's one love that will always be there for you, it's music. Well, it is for me, anyway.' That song, in particular, carries nostalgic echoes of the golden age of Country, as heard through Medium Wave transistors and tinny home stereos in the distant past. Like any child of the Seventies, Kylie had a basic grounding in Country music, mainly absorbed from older family members. My Step-Grandfather was born in Kentucky and though he lived most of his adult life in Australia, he never stopped listening to his beloved Country artists.' If there's any classic Country singer whose imprint can be heard on Golden, it's Dolly Parton.

Kylie saw Dolly live for the first time at the end of 2016, at the Hollywood Bowl. It was like seeing the light,' she beams. It was incredible. Everyone, whether they know it or not, is a Dolly Parton fan. When I was in Nashville, I did pick up a T-shirt that said 'What Would Dolly Do' Maybe that should be my mantra.' And, whether consciously or otherwise, there's a timbre and trill to Kylie's vocals on Radio On that is distinctly Parton-esque. My delivery is quite different on this album,' she says. A lot of things are 'sung' less. The first time I did that was with Where The Wild Roses Grow. On the day I met Nick Cave, when I recorded my vocals, he said 'Just sing it less. Talk it through, tell the story.' This album wasn't quite to that extreme, but a lot of the songs were done in fewer takes, to just capture the moment and keep imperfections that add to the song. I remember on my last album, a lot of producers were trying to take out literally every vibrato they heard. And that's not natural to my voice. I mean, I can make myself sound like a robot, but it's nice to sound like a human!' Working within the Country genre also gave Kylie permission to write in the Nashville vernacular. Because we were going there, I wasn't afraid to have lines like 'When he's fallen off the wagon we'd still dance to our favourite slow song', 'Ten sheets to the wind, I was all confused', 'I'll take the ride if it's your rodeo'. The challenge of bringing a Country element to the album made the process feel very fresh to me, kind of like starting over. I started to look at writing a different way, singing a different way.'

If ever Kylie lost confidence in the Country-Pop concept, and found herself pondering This is great, but back in the real world - my real world - how will this work', Jamie Nelson was there to badger her into sticking to the path. We found a way to make it a hybrid with what we'll call my 'usual' sound. It had to stay 'pop' enough to stay authentic to me, but country enough to be a new sound for this album. The closer we zoomed in, and the more we honed it, I knew Jamie was right. We sacrificed good songs that weren't right for this album, because we wanted it to be as cohesive as possible. The songs that were hitting the mark were these ones, so we decided to be strong, and that's how we wrapped up the album. What he said, that stuck with me, was that 'I'd hate to get to the end of this and really wish we'd gone for it.'' Having worked with Kylie for so long, Nelson was able to put this latest shift of direction into perspective. He said 'You've traditionally done it throughout your career. You had your PWL time, then you did a complete turn when you went to deConstruction, then another complete turn with Spinning Around, and R&B dance-pop, and then another turn with Can't Get You Out Of My Head, icy synth-pop, and this is another one.' He was right. It felt like the right time to have a change sonically. New label, new stories to tell, and a new decade almost upon me.'

Kylie Minogue will, it's scarcely believable, turn 50 this year. This looming milestone is partly behind the album's title, and title track. I had this line that I wanted to use: 'We're not young, we're not old, we're golden' because I'm asked so often about being my age in this industry. This year, I'll be 50. And I get it, I get the interest, but I don't know how to answer it. And that line, for my personal satisfaction, says it as succinctly as possible. We can't be anyone else, we can't be younger or older than we are, we can only be ourselves. We're golden. And the album title, Golden, reflects all of this. I liked the idea of everyone being golden, shining in their own way. The sun shines in daylight, the moon shines in darkness. Wherever we are in life, we are still golden.' One of the album's shiniest moments is Raining Glitter, an exuberant banger which ventures closest to Kylie's traditional dance-pop comfort zone. Eg White, who is one of the producers and writers and a great character, was talking about disco one day. I said 'I love disco, but you know the brief.' We needed to be going down the Country lane, so to speak. But we managed to bring them both together. When I wrote it, I was thinking about the Jacksons video for Can You Feel It where they're sprinkling glitter over everyone. And I think there's a Donna Summer record that's got that feel to it. I think that's my job: I basically leave a trail of glitter after every show I do anyway.'

Kylie is looking forward to the challenge of incorporating the Golden material into her live shows. Mixing these songs in with my existing catalogue is going to be fun. And it could be fun to do some of those songs with just a guitar. It'll make my acoustic set interesting...'Her incredibly loyal fans - to whom one Golden song, Sincerely Yours, is intended as a love letter' - will, she believes, have no problem with her latest stylistic shift. My audience have been with me on the journey, so I shouldn't be afraid that they won't come with me on this part. I've had fun with it, and I'm sure they will too.'

The time spent making Golden has, Kylie says, been a time of creative and personal renewal. I've met some amazing people, truly inspiring writers and musicians. My passion for music has never gone away, but it's got bigger and stronger.' And if there's an overriding theme to the record, it is one of acceptance. We're all human and it's OK to make mistakes, get it wrong, to want to run, to want to belong, to love, to dream. To be ourselves.'

I was able to both lose and find myself whilst making this album.'