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With I was born by the sea, Richie Culver brings to a close a period of intense introspection and emotional reckoning with a debut album that serves as both an optimistic statement of intent and a final glance back at the painful places it explores. Following recent work with Blackhaine and Pavel Milyakov, I was born by the sea picks up where Culver’s EP for Italian label Superpang, Post Traumatic Fantasy, leaves off, painting an unabashed portrait of contemporary malaise, detailing a life lived behind closed doors, pinned under the crushing weight of austerity, sapped of the strength to do anything other than gaze out to sea and all the grey possibilities it represents. Where Post Traumatic Fantasy saw Culver returning to his hometown of Hull after a period spent entangled in London’s relentless sprawl, his first full length project reaches further back to his formative years working in a caravan factory and going to raves in and among Hull’s outskirts. Unspooling like a fever dream, I was born by the sea is the anxious clutter of a racing mind spoken clearly, a stark reflection on how it feels to have too many ideas and too much time to act on them.

Though unquestionably a snapshot of a time of significant difficulty, Culver reflects on this period with tender empathy and pitch-black humour, stitching together unflinching observations from England’s neglected corners, ‘there’s more mobility scooter repair shops and bookies than there are bookshops,’ and devastating vignettes of everyday struggle, ‘tears on the tin foil’, with surreal depictions of industrial grit, ‘skimming stones in a small pond by the slaughterhouse’. His DIY approach to production stretches the rough sinew that connects these fragments of memory, a process he describes as using a paired back collection of synths and drum machines to the best of his ability, ‘but to the least of their capabilities,’ wringing out visceral sound with self-taught urgency. During the album’s most impressionistic passages it’s as though Culver has transposed past internal turmoil into powerfully resonant noise, the Sisyphean sonics of ‘Create A Lifestyle Around Your Problems’, which evokes in its concrète clatter and MRI machine barrage the sound of making the same mistake again and again, or the stuttered jumble of ‘Its Hard To Get To Know You,’ its garbled vocal modulation and frayed edges of distortion channeling the paranoia of somebody listening to muffled voices through thin plaster, climbing the walls of their bedroom with the curtains closed, a nervous breakdown in stereo.

In counterpoint to this glides the ever-present spirit of the dance floor, which haunts the record from the moment it is invoked in its first few seconds. Opening onto a sea wall of bright synthesis, the stuttering vocals and bass tone chops of ‘Nervous Energy’ dump us directly into post rave ecstasy, the echoing cry of a voice amplified by loudspeaker carrying the loose energy and surge of crowds moving in darkness. The incessant, dead phone line beep of ‘Pigeon Flesh’ builds to a pulse that suddenly swells into an anxious technoid surge, shapeshifting at lysergic speed into head shrinking audio hallucinations, a descent into the void of the present via machine music hypnosis. Even ‘Its Hard To Get To Know You’ summons the ego death drive of hardcore techno within its scorched textures, flickering indiscernibly between attritional noise and frazzled hardware stomp. Paying homage to both the parties of his youth and a countless succession of Sundays spent offering himself up within Berghain’s hallowed architecture, Culver’s experiments in addressing his formative relationship with rave provide an energetic glimpse at where he might take his sound next.

Between spikes of propulsive energy and grim mood pieces Culver returns to suspended passages of aching, glacial drift, the cold swell of the North Sea, accompanied by some of his heaviest testimonials. The gauzy ebb of ‘Daytime TV,’ its tumbling loops reminiscent of boats bobbing off a distant shore, sees the artist at his most checked out, slumped in front of his television, seven days a week. ‘I used to dream of doing something,’ he admits, ‘anything to get out of this town.’ ‘Love Like An Abscess’ pairs swirling currents of ambient shimmer with violent images of baseball bats lying next to beds and blood-stained mattresses, next to which Culver pleads in a desperate mumble, ‘let our love grow, like a broken abscess.’ Yet it’s with the album’s final word and title track that Culver reveals a glimmer of cautious optimism, a parting gesture of exposition and closure. ‘I knew I had to get away,’ he asserts, ‘so I did and I never looked back.’ What follows builds from a low throb, the flutter of a tiny heartbeat, to a resonant glow, embellished with unfurling synthetic burbles, oil rigs sparkling in the distance, golden light spilling across the sea. In reckoning with the place he had to escape, Richie Culver is now free to look towards the promise of something new, something hopeful.

new pressing on red & black swirl vinyl. RIYL: New Order, Drab Majesty, The KVB, Black Marble, The Soft Moon. Layering synths, guitars, electronic percussion and live drums, Houses of Heaven fuses early industrial and techno rhythms with the melodicism of shoegaze and a heavy dose of dub-influenced effects on their first full-length album titled 'Silent Places.' Written against the backdrop of the Northern California wildfires, ever-growing tent cities and the continued rise of empty luxury housing in the Bay Area, the album explores the intimate experiences that transpire within the chaotic confines of modern living. Opener "Sleep" basks in the tension surrounding the album's inception with blown-out kick drums, claustrophobic verses, and deteriorating vocal effects. Sharp arpeggiated synths and woozy strings neutralize the track's subterranean anxiety with texture and sensuality. Produced by Matia Simovich (Inhalt) and with engineering credits that include Monte Vallier (Weekend) and John McEntire (Tortoise), it's a potent introduction to the muscular sound design underpinning the album. Booming taiko drums sound the beginning of "Dissolve the Floor," the album's most club-ready track. A pulsing arpeggio gives the song its industrial heartbeat while disintegrating tape delay throws menace into the hazy atmosphere. The undulating techno beat breaks and repairs itself with seductive and satisfying timing. "In Soft Confusion" doesn't stray from the album's obsidian narrative as it envisions and ponders the aftermath of human extinction. Sonically speaking, though, it's the album's most uptempo offering with Tecon's supremely infectious chorus vocal hook and Beck's dizzying guitar riffs. The intricate electronic drum programming is elevated by Ott's live drumming, which lends a refreshingly human touch to the potentially icy, and often mechanical, sonic territory of synthdriven music. Adding density to the album's shadowy allure are the unusual sounds and vintage outboard effects that Tecon and Simovich impressively maneuver into the album's tonal palette. Great care has been taken to finesse familiar pop structures with an inventive edge. It's this mindfulness of past and present that is sure to secure Silent Places as a standout album in the new decade. Also Available From Houses Of Heaven: Remnant 12" EP

dreamcastmoe is the recording project of singer, songwriter, producer, and DJ Davon Bryant, a lifelong resident of Washington, DC. His music moves freely between moods and modes, hypnotic, romantic, traversing electronic, R&B, funk, soul, and hip-hop... Resident Advisor dubs it "soulful, cross-genre dance music." This ability to adapt and finesse, to twist in different directions while staying true and coherent in vision, can be traced to his home city and its complex cultural history. "Most Black kids in DC don't ever get to this point," he says. "This is what I am making this music for, in the DC tradition of soul and empathy and love that is rooted in this city. My music is for real people dealing with shit every day." A versatile, modern artist and collaborator, dreamcastmoe has thrived in the underground since his first uploads to Soundcloud and Bandcamp in 2017 and subsequent releases with labels like People's Potential Unlimited, Trading Places, and In Real Life Music. Bryant's laid-back personality, emotional honesty, and infectious energy shine through his work and how he talks about it, as Crack Magazine notes in their 2021 Rising feature: "a steady combination of confidence, creativity, and calmness." He grew up playing drums in church; he's worked dead-end jobs, had ups and downs, even sold off all his gear one time, but never stopped reinvesting in himself. He is quick to praise his co-producers, rattle off influences _ the visual feel of NBA 2K, the comedic timing of Bernie Mac, the savvy legacy of Duke Ellington, for starters _ and credit resourceful DC breakouts like Ankhlejohn that showed him the roadmap. His voice, a steady instrument, seemingly connects it all, capable of slow falsetto flow, swaggering talk-rap, and outright croon. His storytelling style is choppy yet fluid, like a mixtape, which is how Bryant sees Sound Is Like Water, his debut on Ghostly's International's freeform label, Spectral Sound. The two-part project culminates as a full-length LP release in November 2022. The first side, released as Part I, opens on the blurred beats of "El Dorado," which dreamcastmoe dedicates to his journey. It's a head-nodder, an off-kilter earworm co-produced by Max D (Future Times, RVNG Intl, etc.), with Bryant harmonizing hooks with synth jabs and a pitched-down presence. "Complicated" is the slow jam, delivered smoothly from a Saturday night crossroads. dreamcastmoe is contemplative and committed... gliding and locking ad-libs into skittering rhythms courtesy of co-producer Zackary Dawson _ but also willing to let something go, "acknowledging that everything in life IS NOT easy." "RU Ready" takes off from the jump as a tribute, challenge, and promise to his partner and his city ("The times you sat with me when I needed you the most / Told me the things that I needed to see / Young black man, really trying to be what I can be / And I'm really from DC). In its potent two-plus minutes, the sonics (co-produced by ZDBT) press the message, all cymbal crashes, breakbeats, and serrated synth lines. "Cloudy Weather, Wear Boots" is a blitzing dance-punk track made in collaboration with Jordan GCZ on Bryant's first trip to Amsterdam. The album's flipside opens on "Much More," the first of two synth-and-beat ballads co-produced by ZDBT. Later on "Long Songz," he claims, "I'm not writing love songs no more," prioritizing the vibe with "all my day ones." He calls it "a cry for more normal moments. Everything doesn't have to be a fantasy love story, more time spent getting to the money, growing, and making a way." He saves two of his most propulsive cuts for the finale, co-produced by Sami, co-founder of DC dance label 1432 R. As their titles suggest, "Take A Moment" and "Make Ya Mind" operate as anthems for movement, with Bryant free-flowing commands above wildly-styled percussion. Per Bryant, the latter is both "wake & bake jam" and a "dance floor bomb." His parting line: "Action / You got to show me action / Reaction." The world of dreamcastmoe straddles virtual reality and the realness of DC, images both imagined and lived-in. Bryant has a knack for unexpected melodies but what makes his music so exciting is his capacity to defy the expectations of genre and image. A fluid ingenuity and vulnerability bottled by Sound Is Like Water, and this is just the beginning.

Over the past decade, Vienna-based Florian Stöffelbauer – also known as Heap, has built a consistent reputation as a skilled DJ, producer and Neubau’s label head.

Isla is proud to present his latest effort “False Hope” which explores the intersections between industrial, electro and dark wave – all with a leftfield twist.

As diverse as it is powerful, the 7 tracks featured here almost feel like nocturnal tales, chalking out Heap’s observations wandering through the streets of a silent city, with cigarette smoke permeating the air and sirens ringing in the distance.
The cinematic essence of the release emerges from the very beginning, with the atmospheric beauty “Diall” transporting us straight into some late-80s scenery of Kraftwerkian nostalgia. In “Jetzt Oder Nie” a sharp knit of drums is placed on top of the grave frequencies of the bass: it’s indeed “now or never”, the moral imperative of the release, requiring us to take action.
Throughout the whole album, hypnotic sounds punctuate the dark space, bouncing between the polyrhythmic and uplifting energies of “Inner peace” and “No Palm Too Big”, a sneaky slow-burner with a nocturnal groove and Gayna Rose Madder’s robotic voice reciting the stream of consciousness of this urban wanderer.

“Trist” rises slowly yet powerfully thanks to its mystical synths covering the ground and preparing us for what comes next.
The title track “False Hope” holds the unique charm of a creature effortlessly floating in between dualities. As obscure as it is airy, as delicate as it is forceful, this hybrid composition is rich in details and plot twists.

At the end of this journey, “Losing time” reminds us of the urgency to take action expressed at the beginning of the album. In a rarefied canvas, an off-kilter solitary sound comes in, starting off as insistent as a car horn in rush hour, and evolving into a beautiful instrument arpeggiating the melody.

Here Heap concludes his narrative for now. We like to imagine him walking away, a shadow fading in the smoke of the city as the first lights of the day appear.

While frontman Tom Greenhouse’s off-kilter observations and bizarro anecdotes remain front and centre, this time round the band up their game with a more vigorous sound that keeps pace with Greenhouse’s wholly distinctive lyrical style. Greenhouse continues to revel in telling increasingly surreal short stories, rejoicing in the power of the deadpan one-liner and bedecking his songs with far-flung cultural references. But now the band employ a variety of techniques with improved pro- duction, from the impulsively bashed keyboards and jubilantly repetitive guitar stabs that have be- come their trademark, to flirtations with–heaven forbid!–melody, chord progressions and arrangements which elevate their tried-and-tested blueprint into a more exciting and cohesive whole.

Opener Musicians is the perfect embodiment of this conscious development. Here, Greenhouse re- counts a sarcastic tale of half-truths that see him galavanting around town trying to put a band to- gether. Sonically, it begins with a caustic callback to the group’s first EP Crap Cardboard Pet and its über-minimalist aesthetic. But by the end of the song a joyous festival of afrobeat-inspired in- struments including samba whistles, bongos and saxophones are added to the mix as the front- man, ironically, fails in his mission to recruit more players.

With Get Unjaded, the band have somehow conjured something close to pop, without abandoning the repetition and wit that’s relished by their early fans. I Lost My Head also adopts a jangle-pop sheen with a luscious synth melody, as the frontman ditches the spoken-word for a surly croon (his first known attempt at actual singing!) that provides a welcome breather from the onslaught of dense recantations that are the band’s bread-and-butter.

While the lyrics here are still often humorous and political, Greenhouse has also notably expanded his interests on this album to include a new host of topics. The influence of extraterrestrials, for ex- ample, infiltrates the subject matter frequently. On The UFOs, the mysterious protagonist Blinkus Booth’s isolationist lifestyle is apparently interrupted by the spectres of otherworldly visitors, while closer The Neoprene Ravine feels like an extract from a deep space rock opera. Here, jaunty and angular instruments pile-on as we are fed images of an interstellar Spinal Tap, the titular fictional band “The Neoprene Ravine” who are “the alien equivalent of the Velvet Underground” and include an alien Lou Reed yelping “too busy sucking on my little green ding dong!”.

Meanwhile, Hard Rock Potato is propelled by a vortex of keys and synths, a real noise-pop gem comprised of real guitar chords (!) and rock-orientated riffs. Here the stream-of-consciousness lyrics take shots at the sinister financial industry, and include one of the many top-tier one-liners on the album: “It’s not gambling if you’re wearing a tie (even if you’ve got no trousers on)”.

On Sod’s Toastie, The Cool Greenhouse have pushed their distinctive flavour of post-punk to the point of perfection – their incongruous riffs, alchemical instrumental chemistry, and irreverent spo- ken-word vocals are a delight throughout. Sod’s Toastie is hilarious at times, and at others just hilariously good – a not-so-difficult second album.

Following the success of Aesop Rock's most recent solo album, Spirit World Field Guide, he returns to deliver the instrumental version of those interdimensional adventures. Aesop has long been celebrated for his talents as a lyricist, but he has continually grown and evolved as a producer as well. While the original Spirit World Field Guide was packed with insightful chapters of firsthand know-how into the terrain, wildlife, and social customs of our parallel universe, the Spirit World Field Guide Instrumentals not only set the tone but also provide the roadmap for you to take your own journey. Welcome to the Spirit World. Explore with intention. "He's never before been such a commanding presence behind the boards. The beats here are the best of his career, full of torque and life." - Pitchfork "The strongest collection of beats he's ever produced." - Passion of the Weiss Official instrumentals from Aesop Rock's critically acclaimed album, Spirit World Field Guide, available for the first time. Album produced entirely by Aesop Rock, except for "Sleeper Car" produced by Hanni El Khatib. Additional album instrumentation provided by Grimace Federation and Hanni El Khatib Vinyl packaging includes 12" matte gatefold jacket, printed record sleeves, and one each of transparent cloudy effect green/blue double-vinyl, plus free digital download card. Album artwork illustrated by renowned artist Justin "Coro" Kaufman

Lis Sarroca brings us the second edition of our 10 inch series: a house cut for all hours, complete with an acidic remix from Swedish don, MLiR. The title track gets Ghost House off to an energetic, skippy start before 'Deux' takes things deeper, adding tribal drums for extra movement, and 'NSCDS' brings things to an italo-inflected close.

Extremely limited edition 7” vinyl pressing of Red Rum Club’s infectious new singles Vanilla and The River.

After recently kicking up a dusty, desert-pop storm on their US tour, Liverpool’s funk-infused, brass-driven rock sextet are offering their new wave of American fans a chance to take home a slice of Scouse swagger in the form of a super limited two-track 7” record.

Armed with unapologetically catchy melodies and oozing with an instantly likeable charm, the band have captured the true essence of their personalities on these two new singles. ‘Vanilla’ takes a vicious side-swipe at mundanity and provides the perfect antidote to “vannilla” living with its infectious hook, vibrant brass melody and brooding vocal delivery. Meanwhile, unreleased track ‘The River’ sees the band delve into their emotive side and produce an uplifting and heartwarming song that radiates a feel-good party atmosphere that will make you forget all your troubles in an instant.

Never afraid to wear their hearts on their sleeve, Red Rum Club have distilled the rock and roll flair, endearing lyrical honesty and hip-shaking musical energy of their wide-ranging discography into two tracks that epitomise them as a band. After releasing three albums in as many years, the group have truly refined their unique sound, combining the authentic grit of their native northern England with an eclectic, groove-laden funk sensibility and this exclusive new 7” is the perfect way to sample that concoction in its truest form.

In 1968, the future composer of "The Things of Life" (Les Choses de la Vie) seriously considered becoming a director. He wrote and shot "Florence", a short film influenced by the New Wave and composed its soundtrack, under the benevolent eye of Vladimir Cosma. The first spectators of the film are unanimous: failing to have seen a visionary cinematographic opus, they have discovered a real movie musician. From this first attempt, Philippe Sarde imposes his melodic talent on the picture and initiates his sense of counterpoint. This founding soundtrack, however, remained in the boxes for more than 50 years, before finding a place of choice on the B side of our album.

To open the ball, we offer you another forgotten score: the almost unused score of Loulou, Maurice Pialat’s cult classic. In 1980, the naturalist director planned to use original music to accompany the wanderings of his sublime love duo, played by Gérard Depardieu and Isabelle Huppert. He commissioned a bare, impressionistic score from Philippe Sarde, then changed his mind and kept only a


timid end credits. The meeting between the two giants of French cinema did however take place, as evidenced by the first side of this beautiful lp.

Bubbling up from the psychedelic tar pits of L.A., Frankie and the Witch Fingers have been a constant source of primordial groove for the better part of the last decade. Formed and incubated in Bloomington, IN before moving west to scrap with Los Angeles’ garage rock rabble, the band evolved from cavern-clawed echo merchants to architects of prog-infected psych epics that evoke a shift in reality. After a stretch on Chicago/LA flagship Permanent Records the band landed at yet another fabled enclave of garage and psychedelia - Brooklyn’s Greenway Records, now working in tandem with psych powerhouse LEVITATION and their label The Reverberation Appreciation Society, the groups latest effort is dually supported by a RAS / Greenway co-release. After years of searching for the specific alchemy that would tear open the cosmos, they found the formula with the addition of Shaughnessy Starr on drums in the summer of 2018. They began a new cycle and tripped into tip-on double gatefold territory, flesh-ing out their lysergic impulses into a monolith of sound that closes in from all sides. The band reached new levels of grandiosity and utilized every minute to manifest their psych-soul Sabbath in four dimensions, spilling psychic blood on a populace ready and eagerly waiting. Yet, as expansive, inventive, and immersive as any studio album might be, the band is born for the stage. As their live prowess caught the ears of some legends in their own right, the band practically lived on the road last year with stints opening for Oh Sees, Cheap Trick and ZZ Top. Along the way the constant pulpit of the stage would form ZAM into a transformative experience while plotting their next permutation of space and time. That transformation, Monsters Eating People Eating Monsters... (repeated infinitely,) rises like a Phoenix from the road tar, van exhaust, and ozone crackle of amps in heat. Once off the road it was recorded in just five blistering days. Though, while the tour may have hammered the album into shape and brought about a wind of change, those changes stretched to the band itself as well. In the wake of the tour the band’s longtime bassist Alex Bulli made his exit, with the majority of bass parts on the album being written and played by multi-instrumental magician Josh Menashe with occasional pitch in from songwriter Dylan Sizemore. Stripped to their core the band has created their most ambitious work to date, an album that takes the turbulence of ZAM and crafts it into a beast more insidious and singular than anything in their catalog. Moving forward, the band has taken on new blood. Completing their lineup, Nikki Pickle (of Death Valley Girls) will join them working the new album out roadside on bass. A new horizon of Frankie and the Witch Fingers draws near and we’re all set to follow them into the unknown.

POWERWOLF, one of the most successful current metal bands, have returned with the tour edition of their successful latest album, Call Of The Wild and Missa Cantorem II, out November 11, 2022 via Napalm Records. Just in time for the start of their European headline tour, which will take the Wolves - with their greatest production ever – through the big halls in Europe, the two releases will be released in a bundle format and individually. Following the very successful and critically acclaimed streaming event The Monumental Mass: A Cinemtaic Metal Event (#1 on the Official German Album Charts), POWERWOLF once again makes a strong impact on the international music scene. Right on time for the Wolfsnächte 2022 headline tour, the band is releasing their successful album, Call Of The Wild, as a tour edition with new artwork, once again created by the great Zsofia Dankova. In addition, the band is releasing the vocal cover album Missa Cantorem II, on which eleven well-known international singers reinterpret the eleven songs of Call Of The Wild. The releases will be available both individually and in a bundle, as CD or in different vinyl versions with additional A1 poster. Missa Cantorem II forms a sonic alliance with some of the best singers in metal, including Blind Guardian’s Hansi Kürsch, Sabaton’s & Majestica’s Tommy Johansson, Kissin' Dynamite’s Hannes Braun and Amaranthe’s and Dynatzty’s Nils Molin, who pay befitting homage to the 2021 hit album Call Of The Wild. Each song of the album is honored by its own vocal cover, which allows all songs on the album to shine in a new light. Title track “Call Of The Wild” is newly sung on Missa Cantorem II by none other than the legendary Hansi Kürsch. The result is a perfect interplay of his unmistakable voice and the iconic POWERWOLF sound. One of the album's biggest hits, the live anthem "Dancing With The Dead", is refined by Kissin' Dynamite singer Hannes Braun with his versatile and distinctive voice, while the Amaranthe and Dynatzty singer Nils Molin makes "Alive or Undead" his own, and Sabaton string wizard and Majestica singer Tommy Johansson gives "Sermon Of Swords" a fresh coat of paint. On the Wolfsnächte 2022 tour, POWERWOLF will once again prove that they have truly earned their outstanding status in the metal scene

Yellow and black splatter

While frontman Tom Greenhouse’s off-kilter observations and bizarro anecdotes remain front and centre, this time round the band up their game with a more vigorous sound that keeps pace with Greenhouse’s wholly distinctive lyrical style. Greenhouse continues to revel in telling increasingly surreal short stories, rejoicing in the power of the deadpan one-liner and bedecking his songs with far-flung cultural references. But now the band employ a variety of techniques with improved pro- duction, from the impulsively bashed keyboards and jubilantly repetitive guitar stabs that have be- come their trademark, to flirtations with–heaven forbid!–melody, chord progressions and arrangements which elevate their tried-and-tested blueprint into a more exciting and cohesive whole.

Opener Musicians is the perfect embodiment of this conscious development. Here, Greenhouse re- counts a sarcastic tale of half-truths that see him galavanting around town trying to put a band to- gether. Sonically, it begins with a caustic callback to the group’s first EP Crap Cardboard Pet and its über-minimalist aesthetic. But by the end of the song a joyous festival of afrobeat-inspired in- struments including samba whistles, bongos and saxophones are added to the mix as the front- man, ironically, fails in his mission to recruit more players.

With Get Unjaded, the band have somehow conjured something close to pop, without abandoning the repetition and wit that’s relished by their early fans. I Lost My Head also adopts a jangle-pop sheen with a luscious synth melody, as the frontman ditches the spoken-word for a surly croon (his first known attempt at actual singing!) that provides a welcome breather from the onslaught of dense recantations that are the band’s bread-and-butter.

While the lyrics here are still often humorous and political, Greenhouse has also notably expanded his interests on this album to include a new host of topics. The influence of extraterrestrials, for ex- ample, infiltrates the subject matter frequently. On The UFOs, the mysterious protagonist Blinkus Booth’s isolationist lifestyle is apparently interrupted by the spectres of otherworldly visitors, while closer The Neoprene Ravine feels like an extract from a deep space rock opera. Here, jaunty and angular instruments pile-on as we are fed images of an interstellar Spinal Tap, the titular fictional band “The Neoprene Ravine” who are “the alien equivalent of the Velvet Underground” and include an alien Lou Reed yelping “too busy sucking on my little green ding dong!”.

Meanwhile, Hard Rock Potato is propelled by a vortex of keys and synths, a real noise-pop gem comprised of real guitar chords (!) and rock-orientated riffs. Here the stream-of-consciousness lyrics take shots at the sinister financial industry, and include one of the many top-tier one-liners on the album: “It’s not gambling if you’re wearing a tie (even if you’ve got no trousers on)”.

On Sod’s Toastie, The Cool Greenhouse have pushed their distinctive flavour of post-punk to the point of perfection – their incongruous riffs, alchemical instrumental chemistry, and irreverent spo- ken-word vocals are a delight throughout. Sod’s Toastie is hilarious at times, and at others just hilariously good – a not-so-difficult second album.

What It Means To be Human is the second in a series of four albums from Jasper Høiby’s Planet B, featuring saxophonist Josh Arcoleo and drummer Marc Michel, that focus on global topics of vital importance - Humanity, Climate Change, Artificial intelligence and Monetary Reform. This album seeks connection. A connection between humanity and the planet, between the problems we all face and about an opportunistic optimism to fix them. The mastermind is Jasper Høiby, the esteemed and revered Danish bassist and the deeply reflective, expressive and visionary artist. Whilst there are many moments that display the virtuosity and hard-hitting grooves of Phronesis, the long-standing band that shot Jasper to the limelight, Planet B offers additional rewards of subtle expression. The music is captivating and highly absorbing, enhanced by soundscapes of electronics and interspersed with powerful, emotive speech by some unique and forward-thinking female minds including Grace Lee Boggs, Ruby Sales and Jane Goddall. They all share a profound understanding of the world, only achievable through practical wisdom, each offering their individual take on where we are as a species and what we can do to improve. At the heart of the album is the trio. A group of like-minded and creative souls where the focus is all about the collective sound. As a whole, the music is a powerful, mesmerising and poignant display of musicianship, integrity and storytelling. What it Means To Be Human is an album at the forefront of the creative European scene.

'Find A Better Way', by Canadian classic four-piece rock roots band, The
Commoners, possesses a sound tapped from the oaken belly of a
whiskey barrel
Described as "a classic rock and roll affair," the nine songs on 'Find A Better Way'
take the listener on a sonic voyage through the lives of the band, from the dusty
back roads of rural Ontario to the bright lights of the big city. Offering their own
blend of rock and roll, southern blues, and roots music, the Toronto-based fourpiece band are known for their high- energy riffs, soulful vocals, and rich
harmonies. The result is an authentic Southern-style rock experience.
The group was cobbled together over the course of a decade, adapting through
numerous obstacles to form the unit as it exists today: Chris Medhurst (vocals/
guitar), Ben Spiller (bass), Ross Hayes Citrullo (lead guitar), and Adam Cannon
(drums). Often joined by their friend, organist Miles Evans- Branagh, The
Commoners unite under a shared dream: to write, perform, and share music that
is an authentic nod to the greats who paved the way before them.
"The new album authentically embodies the rock and roll, soul, and blues rock
experience," says the band's lead singer, Chris Medhurst. "That's something we
really wanted to bring back. That's the roots. That's what we listen to."

Laila Sakini's new album 'Paloma' arrives via Modern Love and is her most striking and ambiguous to date - a pointed and timely meditation on hope and hierarchies that riffs on Zbigniew Preisner's magical "The Double Life of Veronique" score and enduring outsider music tome "The Langley Schools Music Project". Subtly transcendent, fathoms-deep music.

When Laila Sakini's debut album ‘Vivienne’ arrived in 2020, it felt like the record we were waiting for to map out our tangled reactions to an uninvited reality. Never self-consciously strange, it revealed itself slowly and cautiously, like a shadow in the corner of the eye, or an alchemical symbol in a bowl of alphabet spaghetti. This time around Sakini has worked her unique world-building to an even finer point, forming six tracks around a theme that's so close to our heart it's almost beating in time. Initially inspired by Krzysztof Kieślowski's 1991 arthouse classic "The Double Life of Veronique", the cult Polish director's enduring modern fairytale that serves as a cosmic rumination on identity and choice. Detailing two identical women - both singers, both in love - the film lets one live as the other dies, forcing us to consider the implications of art and endurance in the face of life's myriad challenges.

Sakini takes Polish composer Zbigniew Preisner's influential score for the film and uses it as a jumping-off point for ‘Paloma’, bending the more grandiose moments into baroque awkwardness on opening track 'Fluer D'Oranger' and evoking the mood of scene-setting cues 'Weronika' and 'Véronique' on the recorder-led 'The Light That Flickers In The Mirror'. And while Preisner's score zeroed in on the musical virtuosity of the film's lead characters, Sakini reinterprets that as a metaphor for self-discovery. Playing piano, violin, glockenspiel, timbale, recorder, and occasionally singing, Sakini captures a mood of innocence that immediately transports the listener back to simpler times. Her music isn't self-consciously simplistic, but forcing herself to interface with instruments impulsively rather than studiously, her sounds are all heart, no filigree.

In spirit, it reminds us of cult Canadian album "The Langley Schools Music Project", a collection of 1970s recordings of school kids singing rudimentary renditions of pop songs in a school gymnasium. That album's genius was in the bottling of hope and innocence: the feeling of joy from hearing and wholesomely interacting with music that's known and loved without a sense of hierarchy or desire for cultural clout. Sakini subtly subverts this by evoking the amateur spirit in the most bewitching way; instead of sourcing her ideas from Bowie, Fleetwood Mac and the Beach Boys, her stock is the established art canon, and by reforming those sounds she makes an insightful comment on intellectualism and access. European classical music is all too often trapped behind the frosted glass of respectability and assumed skill - craft replaces spirit, and technique replaces soul. By approaching these gestures from a different angle, Sakini softens the edges sonically and intellectually, finding music that bubbles with emotion, and most strikingly - hope.

Her choice of instruments and the way she interacts with them allows us to feel as if we're not only listening but contributing. It's a bottom-up way of absorbing art that's traditionally been top-down, and a reminder that we're all part of the experience, whether we're humming along to the remnants of a theme as it dribbles out of an ear in the shower, or dreaming of spotlights in a parallel life that may or may not be real. Sakini's music is nostalgic in a sense, but nowhere near the buttered popcorn and high-fructose candy migraine of the Netflix/Spotify algorithm generation of regurgitated churn. She makes sounds that remind us of what time and experience may have stolen from us, and how we might recover it.

Eric Matthews "It's Heavy In Here" reissued by Past (Last) Night From
Glasgow
It's Heavy in Here hearkens back to the days when pop music was heavily
orchestrated with string arrangements, brass ensemble - the whole nine yards.
Matthews takes that style and revamps it for the '90s, and creates some great
tunes. All of the melodies are precise, all of the hooks are dead- on. Matthews
doesn't pull any punches and the album starts off with the simply grandiose
"Fanfare." "Fanfare" marches in and plops itself down in all of its triumphant glory.
Matthews' raison d'etre seems to be summed up in the opening lines

Eric Matthews "It's Heavy In Here" reissued by Past (Last) Night From
Glasgow
It's Heavy in Here hearkens back to the days when pop music was heavily
orchestrated with string arrangements, brass ensemble - the whole nine yards.
Matthews takes that style and revamps it for the '90s, and creates some great
tunes. All of the melodies are precise, all of the hooks are dead- on. Matthews
doesn't pull any punches and the album starts off with the simply grandiose
"Fanfare." "Fanfare" marches in and plops itself down in all of its triumphant glory.
Matthews' raison d'etre seems to be summed up in the opening lines

AKO Arcade welcomes The King of the Jungle aka Dextrous with an unreleased track from 1994 produced with George Kelly.
This has been on DUB for nearly 30 years and we're glad we can give it an official release.

This is classic Dextrous production.
On the flip, we have a remix by highly rated DJ/Producer Dwarde who keeps all original elements and takes it to a new level which hits a lot harder.
We hope you enjoy this release and thank you for your support.

Ever since he remixed Abimaro & The Free’s ‘Mark’ back in 2014, NuNorthern Soul boss Phil Cooper has kept in touch with Daniel Stenger, the producer and self-taught multi-instrumentalist behind the Flashbaxx project. Cooper was always convinced that Sanger would be capable of crafting a very special release for the label but was willing to give him time to come up with something special.

With Take Care My Friend, a mini-album inspired by the German producer’s deeply rooted love of jazz-funk, Stenger has repaid the faith shown in him. He’s deliv-ered a collection of quality cuts marked out by audible warmth, effortless musicality and memorable, sun-soaked songs.

As he makes clear in the liner notes included with the vinyl version of the mini album, the project began with the recording of luscious, Rhodes-laden opener ‘Al-right’. After staying up all night recording the track, Stenger not only decided to continue recording with the same relatively limited set of instruments (think bass and electric guitars, drums, piano, electric piano, organ, hand percussion and a handful of synthesizers), but also stick to a hybrid sound that added a subtle Lat-in shuffle to his Balearic-minded take on jazz, funk and soul fusion.

We’re biased of course, but there’s no denying that Stenger’s creative choices have resulted in a superb set of tracks. While the restricted kit list provided focus during the music-making process, there’s still plenty of musical variety across the six tracks that make up the set.

For proof, compare and contrast the jazzy, loose-limbed headiness of ‘It Just Happens’, where simmer-ing synth-strings, twinkling melodic motifs and glis-tening guitar licks rise above smooth jazz-funk bass and a gentle broken beat rhythm, and the slow-motion soul brilliance of ‘Strangers’, where Kathryn Kempf’s evocative and poignant lead vocals rise above a sump-tuous downtempo groove and heart-aching piano lines.

This subtly varied but musically coherent vibe contin-ues across the mini album. Stenger indulges in a bit of New York daydreaming on ‘Brooklyn Love Boat’, a wonderfully musically detailed chunk of 1970s style jazz-funk heat that offers knowing nods to Roy Ayers, Herbie Hancock and the jazz-fusion stylings of Azymuth, before opting for a deeper, slower and even more seductive sound on the Hammond-sporting bliss of ‘Take Care My Friend’.

Closing cut ‘City Lights’, a gorgeous, soft-focus affair smothered in echoing Rhodes riffs and immersive chords, has the feel of an underground classic in wait-ing: a stirring, string-drenched future sing-along whose emotion-packed lyrics are delivered brilliantly by Glasgow-born singer/songwriter Chris Pookah.

Despite the song’s subject matter – the painful final breakdown of a relationship – there’s something strangely uplifting about the combination of Pookah’s pitch-perfect vocal delivery and the absorbing warmth of Stenger’s comforting and sonically detailed music. It provides a fittingly impressive finish to a mightily immersive mini album.