Cerca:tape loops

Red Vinyl

Adrian Borland and Graham Bailey might be better known as members of legendary post-punk group The Sound, but the two were childhood friends and had been playing together even earlier in The Outsiders, and continued their deep musical rapport as a duo, creating these intense and engaging songs as Second Layer at the same time as their higher profile band output.

Combining their early recordings, including the 1979 Flesh As Property EP and 1980 State Of Emergency EP, Courts Or Wars takes its title from the first song that served as the pair’s introduction to listeners. Right from the beginning you are enveloped in what The Quietus described as, “a monochrome worldview morbidly obsessed with the dehumanizing effect of war, nuclear weapon annihilation, and the fracturing and negation of the self within an increasingly distorted and technologically mediated society.” Where The Sound fit snugly next to Echo And The Bunnymen, Second Layer had far more in common with the pulsing menace of Suicide.

Borland’s familiar vocals and sense of melody hold a connection to his other songwriting, but within these songs he takes far more risks in his guitar work to suit the subject matter. What really drives everything is Bailey’s propulsive bedrock, formed by his homemade pre-drum machine rhythm generators, creating an innovative mechanical approach that somehow inserts a jittery neurotic touch that merges perfectly with his electronic layers driven by the wasp synth, various unique effects boxes or tape loops. Adding in Bailey’s own distinctive bass playing, the results feel personal and experimental, pointed and harsh, while also bracingly accessible and covered in dark manic energy.

Over forty years later, these recordings feel shockingly appropriate. In painting a bleak reality and frightening future, there is real desperate beauty here.

The 1980s will forever be remembered for electropop sensations, yet few, if any, are quite as sensational as Yaz's Upstairs at Eric's. A standard-setting mélange of smoky blues singing, jazzy arrangements, disco-tinged beats, and dancefloor vibes, the smash debut fits equally as well at a late-night club as it does in a living room, where the record's complexity and exoticism takes listeners hostage. No wonder the 1982 landmark remains one of the decade's most essential albums.

This numbered edition Silver Label LP breathes with a decongested openness, textural richness, and expansive tonal palette. Alison Moyet's inimitable vocals, such a huge part of the record's appeal, are dramatically enhanced, her sensual timbre, bittersweet crooning, and knockout range now encompassing the full frequency spectrum and projecting outward in a way that traverses the flatness of the original pressings.

Indeed, her bluesy deliveries are at once elegant and exuberant, and give collaborative partner Vince Clarke free range to construct beat architectures that encompass freewheeling disco, house music, uptempo dance, and chilled-out pop. The former Depeche Mode member also layers on elegant keyboard melodies, establishing contagious hooks and electronic-laced landscapes that preceded the techno explosion and do so with a cooler elegance. Tape loops, random field-noise dialogues, and synth-stroked bass notes add to what's nothing less than a perfect collusion of moody paranoia and soulful warmth.

While a cousin to synth-pop LPs by the likes of the Eurythmics, Soft Cell, OMD, and Depeche Mode, Yaz's Upstairs at Eric's is singular for its chemistry between Moyet and Clarke – and an insouciant batch of songs high on emotion, style, and substance.

(C45 cassette) Inspired by films he grew up watching and a passion for vintage recording equipment, Eyot Tapes has crafted ten pieces of music recording only to cassettes, using cassette loops, spring reverbs, tape delays and a modular synthesiser. Weaving in and out of different moods, with 'Edgar Rice Burroughs' stories never far from his mind, he takes you on a trip through an off world, tropical fantasy.

Jon K and Elle Andrews’ MAL imprint returns with a new LP from one of the London experimental underground's best kept secrets, Rory Salter aka Malvern Brume. His music is rare, eccentric and mysterious - somewhere between Coil's bleak ritual magick and the BBC Radiophonic Workshop's most experimental, minimal fringes. 

Malvern Brume operates just beneath the radar, occasionally turning up at Café OTO lineups and on a smattering of releases for Low Company, Alter, Infant Tree and Kasual Plastik - but he’s never one to shout too loudly about his work. ‘Body Traffic’ is his most interesting set to date, laying bare a process melting found sounds, field recordings and spoken word into throbbing, pulsing rhythms. It’s an evocation of a fraught mindset during the early weeks of lockdown in 2020; sequestered in his flat next to a trainline, the infrasonic - and more audible - rumbles of rolling stock and a nagging sense of dread infecting his ambiguously discomfiting recordings.

Operating in a headspace that values world-building and vivid, visual emotionality, Salter’s careful melodies are familiar - the distant, weeping melancholia of 1970s British TV hangs off the recordings like net curtains, and his atmosphere loops into experiments that weave through bare traces of industrial music, blank-faced electro pop, and hedonistic Brummie techno, all reduced to a cinder. 

The mood is set on the bellyaching resonance and crawling walls of the title tune, while 'Through Beaked Fog Horns' is drowned beneath morning mists: lopsided synth drones choke and drift, percussion mutates into inebriated bubbles, and tape-f*cked environmental whirrs create an atmosphere that’s hard to decipher in one take. 

‘Moss Spines Clenched’ follows cryptic stains on peeling flocking, and the icy creep of ‘Tense Branches Waver’ quivers beyond a cracked windowpane. The artist’s voice appears from beneath a cardboard box fort in the imaginary world of ‘Cornered Into Sleat’ as a distant drum beats out a marching thud and traffic squeals are sculpted into chirpy whistles, before ‘Bri Dun’ resolves the eerie tension in an OOBE-like ascent above the dado-rail and across the tracks, watching himself fade into a dissociative bliss.

"All chatter falls quiet…” Salter murmurs thru saturation and white noise. It’s a sound that’s gonna stick with us for a while.

100% GALCHER was by all accounts a game-changer when it landed in 2013 as an hour of original music from a relatively unknown producer ushered in by the beloved mix series Blowing Up The Workshop. Galcher Lustwerk's signature sound — a smoky stream-of-consciousness baritone shadow-boxing with beats, informed by funk, rap, rhythm, and blues — felt like an epiphany, impossibly hypnotic and complete. Resident Advisor writes, "100% GALCHER laid out a louche, lysergic and resolutely black take on deep house." Pitchfork remembers the music's immediate impact: "It's the sort of gem you felt inclined to pass around” — and by year-end list time, word-of-mouth intensified. It was Resident Advisor and Juno's mix of the year, and earned a top-ten placement in FACT Magazine's albums list, as well as Philip Sherburne's personal rundown for Spin." Since then, select songs from 100% GALCHER have seen small-run pressings, while the album has lived primarily on SoundCloud and YouTube as a low-key cult legend. The gateway into Lustwerk's now well-established catalog, known for its reliability as a late-night listen and its prophetic vision for the near future of underground dance music. RA would later name it a mix of the decade, citing its influence and imagination: “Original in every sense — unknown, unheard and unbelievably good.” In late 2022, marking ten years since he first recorded the material, Lustwerk returns to Ghostly International to release 100% GALCHER as a remastered limited-edition double LP.

Lustwerk is a product of the Midwest. Growing up in Cleveland, he'd tape over his parents’ cassettes and spend hours at his family computer recording loops and designing artwork for the jewel cases of burned CDs. In high school, he turned to Ableton Live and absorbed every electronic music magazine he could find at the local Borders Books store. In excerpts from the 100% GALCHER liner notes, Lustwerk looks back: "My dad drove me to this shop on the westside Bent Crayon, where I would get anything the blogs told you to get + whatever the clerk recommended. CDs stayed in their packaging, there was always an overflow of vinyl stacked on the floor. I was too shy to listen to anything before buying."

As a college student at RISD, he played in noise bands, plugged into Providence's DIY scene via Myspace, and started DJing weeknights at bars downtown. There he connected with Young Male and DJ Richard, who would go on to found White Material Records and offer their third release to Galcher Lustwerk, an alias realized via CAPTCHA test, a perfect artifact of its internet age. By 2012, Lustwerk had drifted to New York City and settled into a graphic design job, quickly growing disenfranchised by office culture. "Some days I felt like a token, other days I felt invisible." At night, he and his friends were carving out their own space

Originally released in 2014, “Instruction Booklet N. 1232” marks the first cassette release on Dauw for Tatersall under his The Humble Bee moniker. Taking advantage of the format, each side on “Instruction Booklet N. 1232” is reserved for a single piece nearing the 20-minute mark.

“Exploding View” (aka Side A) swells into existence with a very grand sounding synth-driven melody. Of course the other thing that’s present is the decaying sound of the tape loop that’s working to bring that music to life. At first, the melody grows and grows, fairly undisturbed, but eventually the sound of so-much tape warble threatens the rising nature of the piece until it sounds as though it is one loop away from total decay and simply fluttering out of existence.

But of course that’s the point. There’s a tension between that grand melody that opens these moments and that warble. It’s a lesson in opposites: the mechanics of a tape loop, guaranteed to break down, placed in contrast with those signature Tatersall melodies, which somehow seem eternal. And just as that tension seems too much to bear — the melody dies to be replaced by something altogether new. What comes next is something much quieter, driven by a sub-aquatic bassline, some rhythmic tape hiss and some gentle piano.

It’s a very dramatic and sudden break. The technical elements of that could be attributed to Tattersall’s understanding of how far a melody can be pushed before it succumbs to the abuse of being processed out of existence — perhaps the tape had been looped and processed to its breaking point. Regardless of whether it was a technical or artistic choice, that hard break serves an important narrative function. Frequently in instrumental music, musicians play with opposites (quiet-loud, clean-distorted) to create a narrative to their work since they don’t have words/lyrics as a tool. In the case of The Humble Bee’s use of tape loops, one set of opposites in tension is always driven by the fragility of the melodies and the limitations of a machine guaranteed to inevitably decay the media it is designed to support. And where one thrives, the other takes a backseat. As side A winds down, the melodies are much more sparse — appropriate for en ending, yes; but it also gives more space for those hisses and crackles to claim their moment.

Side B is filled out by “Manual with Foot Pedal” and it begins as gently as its predecessor ended. Slowly eking outing it existence – it’s as if watching Tatersall set the board, showing his players on opposite sides of the table before really setting them in motion to do their thing. By the piece’s midpoint, melody has taken centre stage as a glitchy, piano-led rhythm marches its way forward, clearly carving out its space and claiming its territory. And almost immediately following that: the decay takes over again and those tape loops seem processed to near death — the melody almost barely decipherable as it flutters under the weight of the history of being looped/played ad nauseum. And in the very final moments, the melodies are sparse again, giving the tape hiss room to play its part — it’s as if Tatersall is giving both players enough space to take their final bows.

MILK GREY VINYL

100% GALCHER was by all accounts a game-changer when it landed in 2013 as an hour of original music from a relatively unknown producer ushered in by the beloved mix series Blowing Up The Workshop. Galcher Lustwerk's signature sound _ a smoky stream-of-consciousness baritone shadow-boxing with beats, informed by funk, rap, rhythm, and blues _ felt like an epiphany, impossibly hypnotic and complete. Resident Advisor writes, "100% GALCHER laid out a louche, lysergic and resolutely black take on deep house." Pitchfork remembers the music's immediate impact: "It's the sort of gem you felt inclined to pass around" _ and by year-end list time, word-of-mouth intensified. It was Resident Advisor and Juno's mix of the year, and earned a top-ten placement in FACT Magazine's albums list, as well as Philip Sherburne's personal rundown for Spin." Since then, select songs from 100% GALCHER have seen small-run pressings, while the album has lived primarily on SoundCloud and YouTube as a low-key cult legend. The gateway into Lustwerk's now well-established catalog, known for its reliability as a late-night listen and its prophetic vision for the near future of underground dance music. RA would later name it a mix of the decade, citing its influence and imagination: "Original in every sense _ unknown, unheard and unbelievably good." In late 2022, marking ten years since he first recorded the material, Lustwerk returns to Ghostly International to release 100% GALCHER as a remastered limited-edition double LP. Lustwerk is a product of the Midwest. Growing up in Cleveland, he'd tape over his parents' cassettes and spend hours at his family computer recording loops and designing artwork for the jewel cases of burned CDs. In high school, he turned to Ableton Live and absorbed every electronic music magazine he could find at the local Borders Books store. As a college student at RISD, he played in noise bands, plugged into Providence's DIY scene via Myspace, and started DJing weeknights at bars downtown. There he connected with Young Male and DJ Richard, who would go on to found White Material Records and offer their third release to Galcher Lustwerk, an alias realized via CAPTCHA test, a perfect artifact of its internet age. By 2012, Lustwerk had drifted to New York City and settled into a graphic design job, quickly growing disenfranchised by office culture. "Some days I felt like a token, other days I felt invisible." At night, he and his friends were carving out their own space, throwing parties in small basements, office buildings, and off-beat karaoke bars in Manhattan, influenced by series such as Mr. Sunday in Gowanus and The Bunker at Public Assembly. The lifestyle started to bleed into Lustwerk's musical vision. He remembers the night it clicked in Providence, partying and listening to tunes with Morgan Louis and Alvin Aronson. He went back to New York and pieced together his bedroom setup: a Dave Smith Tempest drum machine, a Waldorf Blofeld synthesizer, and a TEAC cassette recorder. Early snippets went straight to SoundCloud, where Lustwerk tested the crowd. Comments and messages offered instant feedback. One DM proved to be the greenlight: from Matthew Kent, an invitation to his burgeoning mix series Blowing Up The Workshop. 100% GALCHER traveled fast and far. A phenomenon he could only enjoy for a short period before discovering that nearly all the masters of the tracks got wiped by water damage to his computer. "The only copies were now on the 192kbs mp3 mix I sent Matt." Until now, after Lustwerk revived the lost tracks and handed them to Josh Bonati for remastering. "The original mix was never mastered so I hope older fans can find something new here." Hearing the enhanced set for the first time delineated by tracklist reveals this was a proper album all along. Sly synth interludes (all titled "Stem") clear the air for raspy house anthems like "Fifty" and "Parlay," the set's original breakout. Themes present across Lustwerk's catalog first materialize in this iconic run _ the link between the meditative state of Midwest driving and the solitary comedowns of nightlife. Lust- werk, the narrator, is an elusive character, a secret agent of the club, embodied by the hooks: "One minute I'm on / next minute I'm gone," he reminds us on cult-favor- ite "Put On." These narcotic, one-line refrains stick with you; look no further than the original YouTube upload of "Kaint" to know that fans can't let these phrases go. While recorded alone, 100% GALCHER was a collective moment. A decade later, Lustwerk sees the legacy as shared: "Making music can be an alienating experience, especially for DJs who travel a lot, it's all super isolating. It's easy to express lone- liness in the music itself, but when it comes down to getting things done, putting music out, you def should go on that journey w other people, friends, or maybe just a group of people online, build things with your friends then they can build to help you."

100% GALCHER was by all accounts a game-changer when it landed in 2013 as an hour of original music from a relatively unknown producer ushered in by the beloved mix series Blowing Up The Workshop. Galcher Lustwerk's signature sound — a smoky stream-of-consciousness baritone shadow-boxing with beats, informed by funk, rap, rhythm, and blues — felt like an epiphany, impossibly hypnotic and complete. Resident Advisor writes, "100% GALCHER laid out a louche, lysergic and resolutely black take on deep house." Pitchfork remembers the music's immediate impact: "It's the sort of gem you felt inclined to pass around” — and by year-end list time, word-of-mouth intensified. It was Resident Advisor and Juno's mix of the year, and earned a top-ten placement in FACT Magazine's albums list, as well as Philip Sherburne's personal rundown for Spin." Since then, select songs from 100% GALCHER have seen small-run pressings, while the album has lived primarily on SoundCloud and YouTube as a low-key cult legend. The gateway into Lustwerk's now well-established catalog, known for its reliability as a late-night listen and its prophetic vision for the near future of underground dance music. RA would later name it a mix of the decade, citing its influence and imagination: “Original in every sense — unknown, unheard and unbelievably good.” In late 2022, marking ten years since he first recorded the material, Lustwerk returns to Ghostly International to release 100% GALCHER as a remastered limited-edition double LP.

Lustwerk is a product of the Midwest. Growing up in Cleveland, he'd tape over his parents’ cassettes and spend hours at his family computer recording loops and designing artwork for the jewel cases of burned CDs. In high school, he turned to Ableton Live and absorbed every electronic music magazine he could find at the local Borders Books store. In excerpts from the 100% GALCHER liner notes, Lustwerk looks back: "My dad drove me to this shop on the westside Bent Crayon, where I would get anything the blogs told you to get + whatever the clerk recommended. CDs stayed in their packaging, there was always an overflow of vinyl stacked on the floor. I was too shy to listen to anything before buying."

As a college student at RISD, he played in noise bands, plugged into Providence's DIY scene via Myspace, and started DJing weeknights at bars downtown. There he connected with Young Male and DJ Richard, who would go on to found White Material Records and offer their third release to Galcher Lustwerk, an alias realized via CAPTCHA test, a perfect artifact of its internet age. By 2012, Lustwerk had drifted to New York City and settled into a graphic design job, quickly growing disenfranchised by office culture. "Some days I felt like a token, other days I felt invisible." At night, he and his friends were carving out their own space

Tuhka, like its titular cinder or ash symbolises new beginnings, fertile ground and creativity after a long lapse. In the same vein, the tracks on this edition were created after a long fallow period.

Tuhka was created out of archival snippets and new vocal loops created on the sunny top floor of Merlijnstraat in early 2022. Late lockdown there was spent writing on the balcony and walking or playing in nearby parks. This creative but relaxed time is embodied in the feeling on ’Tuhka,’ a release wrapping itself around the core of two long-form tracks:

Kärpässieni is a soft, pensive number, with an archival cheap synth track and a chopped-up mystery field recording mingling with a simple subdued vocal loop. There is a titular reference to amanita mushrooms, a fungi encompassing the mystery and the melancholy bitterness present in the track. The feeling is akin to a frosty morning spent on a walk to the Mercatorplein library and feeling your toes start numbing.

Varisevalehti means ’shudderingleaf’ and it consists of an airy, optimistic voice loop that progresses and winds around the length of the track. Alongside it, at times you can hear tape-manipulated samples from a ’learn Italian’ record I used to own. The feeling is more of a wander around Westerpark when the blossoms have started come loose and fly around in the air, forming soft pink deposits in the corners of streets.

Thanks to Haron Aumaj for enduring support and for the copious quantities of Banjaan borani.

Los Angeles Free Music Society (LAFMS) formed in the mid-1970s as a loose-knit experimental music collective and multimedia publishing vehicle. Founded by teenage Le Forte Four members Chip Chapman, Joe Potts and Rick Potts and soon joined by Tom Recchion of Doo-Dooettes, LAFMS incorporated free improvisation, modular synthesizers, tape music, sampling, musique concrète, homemade instruments, noise, mail art and avant-rock in permissive and anarchic sessions at the Raymond Building and Poo-Bah Record Shop in old Pasadena. Inspired by The Residents, LAFMS self-released records and periodicals, organized performances and connected with fellow outsiders via post in the years before punk. Their uninhibited, egalitarian ideal of music-making and DIY distribution would influence generations of underground musicians.

Live At The Brand documents the second performance of newly formed LAFMS core groups Le Forte Four and Doo-Dooettes on July 8, 1976 at the recital hall of the Brand Library in Glendale. Le Forte Four (now joined by Tom Potts) did not actually perform live, but rather created 44 pyramid-shaped headphone helmets with internal quadraphonic speakers and countless wires in order to share their latest tape assemblages with showgoers deprived of sight. The recordings delivered in this Fluxus-inspired manner feature the Buchla synthesizer at nearby CalArts, radio interpolations, group improvisations, addled outbursts and splices from source material lost to time. Doo-Dooettes – Tom Recchion, Harold Schroeder, Juan Gomez, Dennis Duck and Fredrik Nilsen – performed a series of alternately droning and chaotic duets with guitar, percussion, piano, tape loops and synthesizer, all improvised around loosely structured compositions and culminating in a spontaneous group composition at the end of the program. Originally released in 1976, the double LP would be LAFMS' third release.

This first-time vinyl reissue is limited to 500 numbered copies. Comes with inserts.

2022 Repress

.For this from that will be filled is the debut album by Clarice Jensen, artistic director of the American Contemporary Music Ensemble (ACME). The album explores the variable differences between acoustic and electronic sound as well as depiction of the simulated and the unconscious. It was originally conceived as a collaboration between Jensen and the artist Jonathan Turner as an audio-visual work, but is here presented in it´s pure audible form.Building on a long and romantic tradition of solo cello repertoire, Jensen expands and confuses the familiar sound of the cello through the use of effects pedals, multi-tracking, and tape loops recorded at variable speeds, presented in works she has written for herself as well as a piece she conceived together with Icelandic composer Jóhann Jóhannsson. Also featured is Michael Harrison's Cello Constellations for multi-tracked cello and sine tones, written for Jensen, which meditates on long, sustaining tones.With For this from that will be filled, Jensen has made an incredibly strong first album that feels like a surreal and futuristic journey through an alternate timeline.

Bad Colours is back with his sophomore album, "Always With U," out on Bastard Jazz Recordings in November, 2022. The London-born, Maryland-raised, Brooklyn-based DJ, songwriter, producer, and multi-instrumentalist - aka Ibe Soliman - continues to build on the well-deserved acclaim from his 2021 debut LP, "PINK," as well as a slew of standalone singles and collaborations with the likes of Shabazz Palaces, Jarv Dee, and Stas THEE Boss.

"Always With U" sees Ibe further develop his talents as a songwriter and producer, while maintaining the signature balance of banging dance music and dense bars that he's quickly becoming known for. The album expands Ibe's role to a collaborator, band leader, and all-around star-of-the-show; it's certainly still a dance record, but there's also so much more. Live instrumentation accompanies every track, with the notable contributions of Nigerian bassist Akin-Alade Ogo heard across the album, as well as the NY-based saxophonist Carras Paton on the jazzy, upbeat house number, "Heartache + U."

The lead single, "Maybe I Should Move to LA," sees the proudly Brooklyn-based Bad Colours contemplate a move out West – an idea that came about following a trip to LA for the 20 Years of Bastard Jazz anniversary party (which he DJed) in November last year. Bright pads, a thumping four-on-the-floor beat, and a catchy vocal line make it the perfect accompaniment to a top-down joy-ride up PCH. The album's second single, "You Don't Know," features frequent collaborator and PNW darling Jarv Dee, as well as KAS and JVDE who have both been making waves in the Brooklyn scene (KAS for his work with Grammy- nominated producer Harmony Samuels featured on BET, and JVDE as the lead-singer of alternative band Blind Benny). "You Don't Know" turns up the heat with Jarv and KAS trading dense, rapid-fire verses over a high-tempo beat and detuned vocal; the kick cuts out for the bridge, replaced by syncopated keyboard stabs and JVDE's stacked vocals. "You Don't Know" is high-energy hip house at its finest: Super catchy and irresistibly dancey.

The two singles are emblematic of the rest of the album, which largely alternates between vocal and hip house, sometimes jazzy, other times touching on R&B or dancefloor influenced pop. Dave Giles II and Cor.Ece (who recently both contributed to Beyoncé's chart-topping "Renaissance" LP and Honey Dijon's "Work" single) feature on "Flow," while Toribio (of the acclaimed Brooklyn band Conclaves) provides vocals for "Do Better;" both tracks are on the mellower side, reminiscent of late-90s New York mid-tempo garage. Rising artist N.O.V. features on the second track, "Ready," rapping over a bass-heavy beat; MarcusHarmon makes a return after appearing on "PINK," with smooth vocals on the romantic "Come Closer." Aforementioned JVDE can be heard throughout the album, contributing to "You Don't Know," "Flirtation Avenue," and "Easy Come, Easy Go."

While Ibe's career has spanned nearly two decades - as both a DJ (alongside the likes of James Murphy, Mark Ronson, and Q-Tip) and producer (for Kendrick Lamar, Faith Evans, Keyshia Cole, and Rick Ross, among others) - the Bad Colours name only came into being in early 2020, with the debut LP, "PINK," being released in February, 2021 on the Brooklyn tastemaker label Bastard Jazz. By tapping into his deep network of artist friends, Ibe compiled a treasure-trove of vocal samples, snippets, sketches, and fresh instrumental loops into a beautiful debut record that touches on hip-hop, house, and left-field electronic, while remaining danceable.

A slew of singles throughout 2020 and 2021 included "Feelin' Like," featuring the Seattle rapper Jarv Dee, has become an underground hit, popping up everywhere from Best Buy ads, Hulu's "Woke," celebrity Peloton instructor Emma Lovewell's playlist, and even as a soundtrack to the Mayor of Madrid's TikTok video. Most recently, "Feelin' Like" had a prominent placement in the #1 Netflix film "Spiderhead," directed by Joseph Kosinski ("Tron: Legacy;" "Top Gun: Maverick") and starring Chris Hemsworth, Miles Teller, and Jurnee Smollett. The breakout success of "Feelin' Like" further led to a collaborative EP with Jarv Dee, titled "BLAKHOUSE," which saw additional features from fellow PNW natives Shabazz Palaces ("Clouds," featured in Hulu's "Shoresy") and Stas THEE Boss ("Black Skin"). This year, Bad Colours dropped the early Summer banger "Hit The Breaks," and served as the musical director for the influential MADE New York festival, a two-day fashion, music, and arts event presented by Public School NYC and Paypal, that saw performances by Nas, Heron Preston, and Bearcat among others.

"Always With U" is a testament to Bad Colours' versatility as a producer and artist, which has allowed him to bring together such a diverse group of friends and collaborators. Yes, the house and hip-hop roots remain, but "Always With U" shows an evolution of the Bad Colours sound into masterfully crafted dancefloor sounds. It's a truly stunning follow-up from an artist undoubtedly on the rise. The album is out on all platforms, via Bastard Jazz Recordings, November 11th, 2022.

Bill Nace"s Through a Room represents a seismic progression from Both, his startling 2020 debut solo LP for Drag City. Nace"s career has been defined by a relentless probing of ways to frame the complex menu of human emotions, and that the guitar has been his primary tool for exploring this terrain is of little consequence. On this new release, he also employs tapes, hurdy gurdy, doughnut pipe, quelle est belle, as well as his latest instrument of choice, taishogoto. This is also, ultimately, insignificant. What matters is the discerning spirit which animates his work. The tracks are carefully built from loops and phrases that talk to each other, subsume one another, overlapping and crashing and diving and expanding and emerging into unimagined vistas. On the whole, the record offers a fascinating and engrossing chronicle - a sequence of interrelated stories told by a temporally dislodged narrator. You think you"re here, then you"re there, and then you go through trapdoors and along tunnels, into cellars and secret rooms, and you find that actually you"re back where you started. But it"s not hard to follow. Trust me. Nothing this enticing can be hard to follow. The record was recorded and edited in Philadelphia during the uncertain summer of 2021 with engineer and co-producer Cooper Crain. Where Both was a chiseling down of spontaneous live performance, Through a Room, while obviously the work of the same artist, treats its sounds as building blocks, combining them to mesmerizing effect. What"s striking is the poise, the degree of authorial intensity. The false dichotomy of composition and improvisation is thoroughly and rightfully abolished. Bill"s interests range from post-punk to post-industrial to hip-hop to free jazz to avant-garde composition, and every area between such unhelpful labels. From the inscrutable, evocative track titles to the enticingly baffling cover art by his longtime compatriot Daniel Higgs, Nace is guided by an ineffable, internal muse, a persistently personal stormcloud of ideas that, ultimately, comprise that thing we call art. Here"s the real deal. - Matt Krefting, Holyoke, 2022

"Most of this record was created in the shadow of COVID and deep in the maw of Melbourne’s 2020 long winter lockdown. It is a meditation on the nature of connection.

Restricted to a 5km zone, one of the only people I saw outside my family during this time was my old friend and teacher, Ania Walwicz. We met in the overlap between our zones on the waterfront near Docklands to walk and talk on bright, cool winter afternoons. Those conversations became large in my thoughts when Ania suddenly passed away in September. Her voice was in my head as I worked on this music, trawling through threads of ideas, recordings made on my phone, and thoughts jotted down in notebooks.

Ania’s practice as a writer relied on ‘automatic’ processes. Her work was informed by everything she had read (a lot) but it was created in the manner of dreams. In a state where the subconscious might bubble up and the words arrange themselves into meaning bearing forms that resonate more than represent. I thought a lot about that as I made this music. I recorded everyday using the trumpet, my old Revox reel-to-reel, a couple of synths, a harmonium I lent from a friend, and whatever else was around. I worked mostly on just diving a little deeper each time I sat down to it.

Through the simple process of exhalation, I explored my relationship with the trumpet, which has been through so many twists and turns. I let the tones produced by my breath unfurl on long tape loops and degrade beyond recognition through pedal and plugin chains, until the only imprint of the initial gesture remained.

My process also involved long bike rides during which I’d listen to the work of previous days on ear buds, gliding through familiar streets made slightly strange by the absence of people and movement. Often my rides took me along Footscray Rd next to the port, and as I washed down towards Docklands past the old boat moorings I stopped pedalling to coast. The sounds from my darkened studio mingled with the low rush of air past my helmet, the click and whirr of my bike gears, a squalling bird, a whooshing car. And I remembered my last conversation with Ania. Sitting in the late afternoon sun, squinting against the light that raked across the water, she was telling me about all the different words for they have for blue in Polish and Russian, and how words don’t just change our perception of things, but also actually change the thing being perceived.

As I rode home that afternoon, I felt like anything was possible. "

Peter Knight

Emerging from a live recording at St.Mary's Episcopal Cathedral in 2021, Alliyah Enyo’s ‘Echo’s Disintegration’ is a transformational project; a coded reflection on loss, metamorphosis and rebirth.

It’s a work of two parts, each incarnation informed by the parameters of the recording environment. In the initial live performance, Alliyah harnesses the organic echo and reverb formed by the vast open space of the cathedral. Her luminous vocals break through a dense sea of layered noise, a reverberating wailing drenched in heartache.

Her words are fractured and frayed, broken into segments, and enshrouded in mysticism. Yet through the ambiguity, there’s an innate spirituality to the work; iridescent melodies are heightened by the imposing presence of the surroundings.

The five studio tracks, made in retrospect, carry the live performance within the DNA of their reinterpreted sounds and loops. Recorded in Glasgow’s renowned Green Door Studio, constructed reel-to-reel tape loops further fragment and transform compositions, evoking the intoxicating tape feedback of Eliane Raidgue and the harrowing loops of William Basinski.

There’s a radiant clarity to the recordings, Alliyah’s voice implemented as the guiding instrument, the heady sensuality of her vocals layered and echoed in enchanting formation. Through the agony and longing, we reach reincarnation in the culminating euphoria of ‘the healer’. We’re left amongst the blissful reverberations of an awakened soul.

Echo’s Disintegration is the debut album by Alliyah Enyo. The work has received early support from Jack Rollo (NTS), Lucinda Chua (NTS), Pako Vega (Fade Radio, Athens), Elina Tapio (Radio Radio, Amsterdam), Conna Harrawy (INDEX:records) and Martyna Basta (Unsound festival).


Alliyah Enyo - Bio
Alliyah Enyo is an Edinburgh-based artist. She comes from a visual-arts background which is evident in her theatrical live performances that encompass elaborate stage design and choreographed dance. She recently performed her 9-month collaborative project ‘Selkie Reflections’ for Hidden Door festival, working with dancers and classical musicians to explore Siren and Selkie myth. She has performed at multiple venues across Scotland and previously supported Erika De Casier.


Somewhere Between Tapes - Bio
Somewhere Between Tapes is a Glasgow-based record label, formed in 2022 via connections made at local community radio station Clyde Built Radio and at Green Door Studio’s sound workshop.

The label is primarily drawn to working with artists who use experimental processes, often as part of an interdisciplinary practice, where live performance and visual accompaniments are intrinsic to the work. Our focus is on diaristic, sensitive approaches to sound, from ethereal ambient to avant-folk and psychedelic-infused electronics.

The label is run by Lizzie Urquhart and Tim Dalzell. Both are residents at Clyde Built and have contributed to Mutant Radio, Refuge Worldwide, Lyl Radio and Rinse FM. Collaboratively and independently their shows are characterized by their reflective nature, designed for deep listening. This is supplemented by their online mix series ‘Somewhere’, and involvement in co:clear; a new collaborative listening series formed with Conna Haraway of INDEX:Records that commenced with a performance by Berlin-based artist Perila.

"Under This Hunger Moon We Fell" is the new album from the uniquely talented, multi-instrumental artificer Lomond Campbell, the third and final instalment of his experiments using tape loops at the heart of his music making process. Campbell notes that "as the album was nearing completion there was a particularly dramatic Supermoon called a Hunger Moon. Apparently it has this name because it occurs right at the end of winter, when predators are at their most lethal and desperate, and those seen as less powerful are preyed upon". These themes can be clearly heard on an album that feels cold and bleak in tandem with moments of vulnerability and tenderness. "Under This Hunger Moon We Fell" stalks from the shadows with a natural, quiet confidence before exploring more carnal heaviness and occasionally brutal displays of dramatic tension. It meditates in cycles and is at both times predator and prey, conveying the balance of these relationships with its cinematic compositions. The album ranges from soft, delicate atmospheric musings such as "Bastard Wing" and "Leave Only Love Behind" to the dark electronics of "And They Are Afraid Of Her" and "Phonon For No One", which Campbell describes as "akin to a massive machine starting up, like a huge sinister power mobilising". During its gloomier moments, "Under This Hunger Moon We Fell" buries tonally ambiguous ambience underneath hazy, distorted textures created via the gradual degradation of the tape. It creates a dream-like backdrop with a moody undertone created by deep basslines and hulking percussive elements, blended with orchestral sounds that add an air of humanity. Although his music is grounded in sound it often incorporates sculpture, engineering, product design and visual art. Using a combination of hardware hacking and industrial manufacturing techniques, Lomond builds his own unique instruments and devices for creating sound which he combines with modular synths, piano and voice. The album also sees Campbell"s vocal debut on "For The Uncarved", having originally written the part for a friend. "I was supposed to be recording her album in my studio The Lengths, but she was struck down with Covid so the session was scrapped. It felt like the album needed some kind of human element so I resorted to singing the part myself". "Under This Hunger Moon We Fell" concludes a trio of albums using tape loops, which was kickstarted with an email from Lomond"s long-time friend and collaborator King Creosote. He was looking for a custom tape looping machine so Lomond set about designing and building a unique music machine, inspired by Reich and Basinski, that plays 10 second tape loops which disintegrate over time as they pass near a rotating magnetic disc. Campbell built and then tested the machine by recording a series of improvisations with it which became LUP, the first album in the trilogy.

Gazelle Twin, Lali Puna, This Mortal Coil, Slow Walkers, Atlas Sound, Bowery Electric, Broadcast Press Release: Snakeskin is an album of visionary electronic dream pop, shapeshifting above ambient and industrial undercurrents. It is moody, unsettling, luminous – the culmination of a decade of collaboration and friendship between Lebanese producer/musician/ engineer Fadi Tabbal and singer-songwriter Julia Sabra from Beirut-based indie trio Postcards. The duo began working on Snakeskin in the aftermath of the August 2020 Beirut port explosion, which killed at least 218 people, injured 7,000, and left over 300,000 people homeless. Indeed, Julia's home was destroyed by the explosion and her partner and bandmate Pascal badly injured. The first song that they wrote together afterwards was 'Roots', which closes out the album and was composed for the Ruptured-curated series The Drone Sessions in the fall of 2020. Snakeskin utilizes tape loops, synthesizers, vocals, and drum machines, combining Julia’s pop-inspired melodies and choral roots (an echo from her religious upbringing) with Fadi’s affinity for minimalism and musique concrète. The album seamlessly incorporates the melancholy electro-pop of 'All The Birds', the quiet menace of 'In Our Garden' (long-lost treasures, ancient lies / another buried paradise), and the beat-driven 'Signs'. The title track sums up their frame of mind, beginning as a lullaby and evolving into a glittering tapestry of distortion and feedback. As the artists write, Snakeskin is a product of "the disappearance of life as we know it, and with it the decay of nature and living creatures. There is no rebirth, no renewal. It’s about what it means to feel at home in such a place." Some tracks were also inspired by events happening in the surrounding region, such as the invasion of Armenia by Azerbaijan and the Palestinian uprising of May 2021 in Sheikh Jarrah - both events shedding light on relationships to home and land across the wider region. That such compelling art can emerge from unceasing tragedy may be the ultimate testament to human resilience and the pursuit of freedom and justice. "The moon speaks in tongues we can't discern / A plastic dove hangs from a cypress branch / Haven't you heard? / Nothing grows here anymore / The air is burnt / Nothing grows..." Highlights: – This is the second volume in the Corrosion Series, a collaborative effort by Beacon Sound and Ruptured, and the sixth collaboration between the two labels. – Fadi used samples of Julia's voice on his fifth solo album Subject to Potential Errors and Distortions (2020, Beacon Sound/Ruptured) – The Tunefork Studios team, led by Fadi, administered the Beirut Musician's Fund after the port explosion, as covered by Pitchfork, NME, and the Financial Times. – Julia's band Postcards released their third full-length album After The Fire, Before The End on Berlin label T3 Records in 2021 and are currently touring Europe. Credits: All music composed, performed and produced by Julia Sabra and Fadi Tabbal between November 2020 and December 2022. Lyrics by Julia Sabra. Drum samples by Pascal Semerdjian. Recorded by Fadi Tabbal, mixed by Sary Moussa and Fadi Tabbal at Tunefork Studios, Beirut. Cover photo by Lujain Jo. Design by Josette 'ZOoz' Khalil. Mastered by Rashad Becker. Bios: Julia Sabra is a Lebanese musician, songwriter and composer. She co-founded acclaimed Lebanese dream-pop outfit Postcards in 2013 and is the band’s multi-instrumentalist, lead singer and lyricist. Postcards have released two EPs (2013, 2015) and three albums (2018, 2020, 2021) and have been regularly touring Europe and the Middle East since 2015. She has been the manager of Tunefork Studios since 2017. Lebanese musician, producer, and sound engineer Fadi Tabbal’s work consist of minimalist pieces ranging from ambient and electronic to drone and contemporary classical. He has released six solo albums and has collaborated with various musicians, artists and filmmakers through the years. Often referred to as “the hardest-working person in Lebanon’s alternative music scene”, Tabbal established Tunefork Studios, a collective of producers, engineers and musicians, which has helped shape Beirut's contemporary music scene since 2006.

Guber is a blue-collar bass music producer from Paris. While you may think he’s newcomer in the local electronic scene, he has already released several records from Paris-based Beat X Changers, Bad Winners Records labels as well as several self-releases that has been heard all around Europe. His influences come from the 90’ metal scene to the UK Bass 2010 decade bangers, both following common paths of massive sub-frequencies shocks and obsessional drum loop. When Guber is self-releasing, his visual identity is heavily influenced by asset plants & machinery from the Energy Industry and enable to finally produce overall tracks with a universe deeply reflecting his own day-to-day work environment.

Wrong Ibiza EP follows 2 opposite dynamics from mental endothermic deployments to spontaneous exothermic loop deliveries. One face that is more uncertain, with bass lines densely packed with Brazilian-influenced drums, while the other is composed with tech-house cuts dimensioned and played around different rhythms and tempos. Guber shows in 'Wrong Ibiza' he is a savant in creating an engaging tapestry of sample loops, a sonic magic carpet ride of forgotten genres, a ride that does not lean on nostalgia to create magic but utilizing his uncompromising ears to weaves and waves decades of dance music sounds into a new end-product for the here and now.

The final remix from Ploy is overarching and consolidates the whole EP around sharp resequenced loops based on the main sample cuts. Diligent 148 bpm-remix, the track focuses on the development of hard cut vocals from the original mix, mechanically deployed among muddy atmospheric breaks. Side elements moving forward enhance the whole structure to deliver pure mental vibe construction.

Limited Pressing.

Invisible City Editions returns with an official repress of a fantastic double-sided private press rarity from 1989 Detroit. Featuring two legendary Inner City alumni Producer/keyboardist Engineer Art Forest and Inner City background vocalist dancer/singer Shawn Pittman. On the A side a lush slow modern soul slow burner “Dreams'' features a deep,spatial throbbing bass line with glistening synths floating underneath cool angelic hypnotic vocals by Ms Pittman.” 'Dreams are only Dreams till you make it real' chants Shawn Pittman and we’re lead down a dazzling maze of mirrors. With “I'm Losing Control (Extended Bass-ment Club Mix)” on the flipside a wild late night warehouse dub remix features sci-fi vocal effects,fostex tape loops and ultra-heavy bass and driving drum machines. Minimal lush soul perfect for early mornings and the post-club world and a wild sci-fi house winner for late night club sessions. An IC fave! Remastered by Brandenberg/The Carvery (Note: we’ve also removed the drum machine going out of sync that was on the original press) Official Repress via Art Forest and his label Wildboy.Essential stuff!

Art Forest is an Electronic Engineer and production wizard from Detroit Michigan. He originally recorded 2 of Inner CItys’ Biggest Hits “Good Life” and “Big Fun” and continues to record to this day. Art Forest still finds and repairs equipment to add to his studio today. He also recorded for Paula Abdul “Straight Up” and Madonnas’ “Justify My Love” Shawn Pittman was a singer and dancer from Detroit who was a good friend of Inner City vocalist Paris Grey. Shawn Pittman sang backing vocals and harmonies on “Good Life” and “Big Fun”.