quête:techno pop

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."

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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.

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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."

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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."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Ever since jazz took its bop and free turn, each generation solved this eternal equation: how do you reconcile serious music and simple pleasure? On each of these occasions opinion was divided between orthodoxy and hedonism.

Trained in the theoretical rigours of classical music and jazz, experts on their instruments, and brought up on hip-hop culture, techno and house club scenes, Matthieu Llodra and Arthur Donnot - composers of KUMA – go against the conventional rules because they like to challenge their musical boundaries.

"Honey & Groat" is just like a bear (KUMA in Japanese, emblem of the band): behind the sweetness and apparent placidity, plenty of power. The resulting urban groove is reminiscent of 70's soul jazz with a contemporary sound: where instrumental talent meets pop simplicity.

Italian duo Agents Of Time have been incredibly busy over the past few years, from releasing a string of classic singles – including their recent single for Afterlife, “The Mirage”, which earned more than five million views on Instagram – to remixing The Weeknd’s “Take My Breath”, which appeared on his recent Dawn FM (Alternative World). But the biggest news is here now – their second album, Universo, is ready. Elevating their trademark melodic techno with an exquisite pop-ness, Universo has found its ideal home with Kompakt, following their Music Made Paradise 2020 debut EP for the label. It’s a meeting of minds that makes perfect sense.

Andrea Di Ceglie and Luigi Tutolo, the two members of Agents Of Time, used their time during the pandemic to work on Universo, an album loosely conceptualised around their ‘personal universo’, a manifestation of the world Di Ceglie and Tutolo built both within and around their studio. This accounts for the sparkle and brightness of Universo – it’s full of personality, vim and vigour, the duo experimenting with their music, exploring its furthest corners. If you come to Universo expecting just another album of melodic techno, get ready to be pleasantly surprised – there’s a whole lot more going on here, and it’s all equally compelling.

After a typically poetic opening gesture – the swirling, synaesthetic, self-titled intro track – expectations are immediately blindsided with the two-step pop of “Fallin’”, sung with gentle clarity by guest Audrey Janssens, a dream of a song that harks back to the glory days of early ‘00s UK garage. “Interstellar Cowboy” is a confident, lithe, disco-fied strut; the gentle minor-key piano of “Liquid Fantasy” spirals into a gorgeously melancholy techno-pop epic, Vicky Who?’s voice rich with yearning. Janssens also reappears on the electro-swirl of “Poison”; “Dream Vision” revisits their single “The Mirage”, soft with sweeping strings, loaded with drama; “Part Of Life” sashays into view with a schaffel-stomp.

This rich variety throws the more dancefloor-focused tracks, like “Ciao”, into even starker relief – they’re more decisive, streamlined, yet rich with detail, chugging, Moroder-esque bass meeting strobe-lit synths that fire melodies out into the firmament. Universo feels texturally dense, but it still breathes, its sounds so tactile you want to reach out and grab them, its tunes so seductive you can’t get them out of your head. Universo is a fiercely beautiful album, brave in its spirit, a perfectly poised meeting-point of pop melody and stylish, lush techno: Agents Of Time in excelsis.

Das italienische Duo Agents Of Time war in den letzten Jahren unglaublich fleißig, von der Veröffentlichung einer Reihe klassischer Singles - darunter ihre jüngster Beitrag für Afterlife, "The Mirage", der mehr als fünf Millionen Aufrufe auf Instagram erhielt - bis hin zum Remix von The Weeknds "Take My Breath", der auf dessen aktuellen Album “Dawn FM (Alternative World)” erschien. Aber die bahnbrechendeste Neuigkeit ist erst jetzt endlich da - ihr zweites Album "Universo" ist fertig! “Universo" verbindet ihr Markenzeichen, melodischen Techno, mit einer besonderen Pop-Haltung und findet nach der EP "Music Made Paradise 2020" sein ideales Zuhause bei Kompakt. Eine Seelenverwandtschaft, die absolut Sinn macht.

Andrea Di Ceglie und Luigi Tutolo, die beiden Mitglieder von Agents Of Time, nutzten die Zeit während der Pandemie, um an "Universo" zu arbeiten, einem Album, das lose um ihr "persönliches Universum" herum konzipiert ist, eine Manifestation der Welt, die Di Ceglie und Tutolo in und um ihr Studio herum aufgebaut haben. Das macht den besonderen Glanz und die strahlende Helligkeit von "Universo" aus - es strotzt nur so von Persönlichkeit, Elan und Kraft, das Duo experimentiert mit Musik und erkundet auch noch deren entfernteste Ecken. Wer bei "Universo" nur ein weiteres Album mit melodischem Techno erwartet, wird angenehm überrascht sein - hier ist viel mehr los, und alles ist gleichermaßen spannend.

Nach einer poetischen Eröffnungsgeste - dem wirbelnden, synästhetischen, selbstbetitelten Intro-Track - werden mit dem 2-Step-Pop von “Fallin” alle Erwartungen sofort über den Haufen geworfen. Mit sanfter Klarheit von Gastsängerin Audrey Janssens gesungen, ist “Fallin” ein Traum von einem Song, der an die großen Zeiten von UK-Garage in den frühen 00er Jahre erinnert. "Interstellar Cowboy" ist ein selbstbewusstes, geschmeidig über den Laufsteg stolzierender Disco-Track; das sanfte Moll-Klavier von "Liquid Fantasy" entwickelt sich zu einem wunderbar melancholischen Techno-Pop-Epos, mit Vicky Who?’s Stimme voller Sehnsucht . Danach taucht auch Janssens Gesang auf dem Elektro-Wirbel von "Poison" wieder auf; "Dream Vision" greift die Single "The Mirage" auf, sanft und mit schwungvollen Streichern, voller Dramatik; "Part Of Life" dagegen ist ein echter Schaffel-Stomp.

All der Abwechslungsreichtum lässt eher tanzflächenorientierte Tracks wie "Ciao" noch deutlicher hervortreten - sie wirken noch entschlossener, stromlinienförmiger und dennoch reich an Details, pluckernde, Moroder-eske Bässe treffen auf stroboskopisch blitzende Synths, von denen aus die Melodien ins Firmament schießen. “Universo” fühlt sich textlich dicht an, aber es atmet trotzdem, seine Klänge sind so greifbar, dass man sie anfassen möchte, seine Melodien so verführerisch, dass man sie nicht mehr aus dem Kopf bekommt. “Universo” ist ein wunderschönes, mutiges Album, ein perfekter Treffpunkt von Pop-Melodien und stilvollem Techno: Agents Of Time in excelsis.

We are happy to release another vinyl 12“ with Carsten Halm adding up to the series we have released with him so far. This ep marks the end of the series, but not the end of the relationship with Carsten. Carsten has been very successful with his releases on Traum starting with his "Taubenflug" ep in June 2020 followed by "Fuchsbau" and "Hammerhai". As we stated with his first ep: „His music has the unique quality to bring people together and experience something very positive“. Carsten showed this quality with all of his eps and last but not least this also makes him a popular DJ. Carsten plays clubs all over Germany but he still sticks to his roots and organizes parties in his hometown Cologne in his own dedicated space which he has rebuild with his friends after it was destroyed last year.

The fourth vinyl release with Carsten Halm "Licht Und Schatten" highlights another cover design by graphic designer Daniela Thiel and shows collages of the animals in a similar graphic context as his previous releases. The idea was to keep the graphic idea of the series but to use only artifacts of his previous designs to create a new cover.

The ep kicks off with "Licht" a track that has the quality to embrace you emotionally as well as musically with a massive warm and widening synth sounds that is a true a-side tune.

"Chimäre" instead is more jumpy and good natured, resulting in a nice break to carry the listener throughout the track.

"Schatten" kicks off with a rather dry drumming but in the course of the track is joined by a merry melody which is pushed aside by a bad ass rectangle synth sound that inflates the track with a techno spirit that is very welcomed at open airs.

The ep closes with the track "Notes" a horse ride though valleys of sparse vegetation with a happy sad Morricone inspired soundtrack that is very easy to like.

Fabrice Lig has melody running through his veins. On his quest to explore his deep love for the bitter-sweet yearning of Motor City techno, his tracks transcend trends. Over his three-decade spanning career he has refined his blend of soul-infused dance music to striking effect. His gift for a catchy hook is unmatched. His new studio album "The Mental Bandwidth" shows his musical range as a producer once again. On the album's twelve tracks, he effortlessly traverses, cosmic house, funkified techno and electronica, combining his trademark quirky melodies with playful songwriting and dance floor focused beats. The album format is giving Lig enough space to explore his musical ideas from different directions while staying true to the overall atmosphere. "The idea for the album was to go back to the fundamentals of the original Detroit sound and to find new ways of expressing that soul in my music - as I've been doing for years", explains Lig. With Ann Saunderson and the former Kraftwerk-member Wolfgang Flur, the album features two heavy-weight collaborations that connect the "The Mental Bandwidth" to Detroit's musical legacy, too. Slikk Tim aka Garry Grittness also has a cameo in the form of a funky bassline on "Healing", the pop-infused Ann Saunderson collaboration. The title of the album is inspired by Lig's lecture of Sendhil Mullainathan and Eldar Shafir book "Scarcity: Why Having So Little Means So Much" which explores new approaches to reduce poverty. "The authors discovered that the mental bandwidth of poor people is sometimes really low because of short term issues they are facing and are forced to solve", explains Lig. Those issues are reducing the mental bandwidth for long term thinking capacities, which in turn has consequences for the decision making process. An example: before the quality of education of poor kids is increased, the quality of life they have must be increased. This increases the capacities of the kids to learn more than solely better educational programs.

Los Angeles-bred "SoCal Country" singer Sam Outlaw will release a pedal
steel-stamped, new wave-inspired record titled 'Popular Mechanics'
Solely writing seven of the album's 11 tracks, Outlaw fuses the sounds of his
favorite artists of the '80s - Kenny Loggins, Cyndi Lauper, Tom Petty - with stories
influenced by the great innovators of the 20th century and the engineers that
make up his own family tree. The ambitious direction of 'Popular Mechanics' may
seem like a sudden shift from Outlaw's country-leaning albums, 'Angeleno' (2015)
and 'Tenderheart' (2017), which garnered appearances on CBS Saturday
Morning's Anthony Mason, NPR, The New Yorker, Wall Street Journal and more,
but the gears actually started turning in early 2018 after Outlaw shelved some
new material he recorded in Southern California. Following his cross- country
move to Music City that same year, Outlaw found unexpected inspiration during a
visit from his father, a mechanical engineer, and it prompted him to shift his focus
to the technological side of music creation. The epiphany came when he
connected industrial machines with the role technology plays in recorded music.
Growing up on the hits of the '80s, an incredible time of transformation in music
history, he remembers everything came into focus for the album once he
envisioned the title, 'Popular Mechanics`

Debut solo album from Julia Kugel (The Coathangers). Limited edition first LP pressing on heartbeat pink color vinyl, includes DL (1500 copies). If you can’t trust yourself, who can you trust? This is the crucial question at the core of Julia, Julia, the moniker for Julia Kugel, founding member of garage punk icons The Coathangers and the dream pop duo Soft Palms. On her first solo full-length album Derealization, Kugel shifts her focus from collaboration and band dynamics towards a singular artistic vision and private self-discovery. Steeped in the beguiling pop elements of her past work, Derealization is a meditative deep dive into the mind of a person struggling to understand a crumbling internal and external world. The album traverses a landscape of ethereal folk, atmospheric deconstructed pop, and dubbed-out country ballads, all centered around straight forward and direct lyrics. This juxtaposition of nebulousness and lucidity gives the album a sense of clarity emerging from the haze, an apt refection of Kugel's personal growth and journey toward self-acceptance. Derealization is based on weaving the unreal, unsaid, and unknown into an undulating sonic fabric. Vocal layering and abstract instrumentation convey a blurred desperation to connect to an emotional and psychological focal point. Moody, dark, and sumptuous, the record is a flow chart of Julia Kugel coming into herself as an artist and songwriter. The album finds Julia playing almost all the instruments and taking her first stab at engineering at COMA, her and her husband's home recording studio in Long Beach, CA. “You know how touring musicians often speak of whether home is real or tour is real? Well, it can lead you to lose grasp on ‘reality,’ especially when touring is taken away and you are left to wonder if anything was ever real, including yourself. Like you we're just playing a character,” Kugel says of her headspace leading up to the creation of Derealization. “Honestly, I kinda lost it, and through making this record I made peace with it and reconciled myself as a real person. I forgave myself and in turn forgave those around me. The song ‘Forgive Me’ is the apology I wanted to say and to hear. I wrote every song from that place and gained the confidence I was pretending to possess.” This raw and personal approach to the lyrics is present throughout Derealization. On the opening track "I Want You," Kugel creates a woozy sense of space with reverb-soaked drums and spaghetti western guitars while she lists off her desires for a mysterious “you.” Is she actually listing off her desires for herself? For the people around her? As she repeats "do you feel it?" in the song’s chorus, it feels as if she’s conjuring a magical thread by which we are all connected, showing us how our desires are all the same. On "Fever In My Heart" the listener is treated to a lush, acoustic techno track detailing the exhilarating madness of an emotional breakdown. Simple truths percolate to the surface on "Words Don't Mean Much,” as if clearing away the murk of platitudes and empty gestures. The journey continues on the detached and conflicted "Do It Or Don't,” an alluring walk through the winding road of lonely choices. The name for the project Julia, Julia is a look in the mirror, a reflection of what is hidden and unanswered, of what is real and what is transient. The experience of living life not as you planned it but as it unfolded, and the mysterious, magical pain that creates meaning.

Tracklisting 1. I Want You 2. Forgive Me 3. Impromptu 4. Fever In My Heart 5. Words Don’t Mean Much 6. Do It Or Don't 7. No Hard Feelings 8. Big Talkin' 9. Paper Cutout 10. Where Did You Go 11. Corner Town

Pocket Fantasy, the sophomore album from Mamalarky is an instantclassic sunny-day record, imaginative and introspective, an enveloping
listen of skyhigh hooks and keyboards that soar with joyful abandon
Its twelve kaleidoscopic tracks shapeshift aesthetically and thematically, through
ideas about death and impermanence; love and gratitude; nature and technology;
humor and hope. Heralded by Billboard, Nylon, The Fader and more, the new
album expands on the unique sound of their self- titled debut which Pitchfork
called "tenderly tangled indie rock". On Pocket Fantasy some of the band's purest
pop tendencies collide with more warped and weird strains of quirky psych. It's a
treasure trove of playful grooves and zigzag riffs, a phenomenal album from a
young group poised to carve their own place in the bins of your favorite record
store.

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.

This compilation presents for the first time various underground techno groups and projects that emerged in Lima in the mid-1980s. Projects such as Disidentes, Paisaje Electrónico, T de Cobre, Meine Katze Und Ich, El Sueño de Alí, Cuerpos del Deseo, Círculo Interior, Ensamble and Reacción. Disidentes and T de Cobre brought extreme sounds to local electronics, and which has made them an unavoidable reference for any historical account of techno and industrial music in Latin America. This compilation presents for the first time various underground techno groups and projects that emerged in Lima in the mid-1980s. Projects such as Disidentes, Paisaje Electrónico, T de Cobre, Meine Katze Und Ich, El Sueño de Alí, Cuerpos del Deseo, Círculo Interior, Ensamble and Reacción were responsible for introducing styles such as techno-pop, EBM, industrial and minimal synth in Peru. Coinciding with the explosion of punk in Lima and the appearance of the so-called Rock Subterráneo underground rock, these techno groups shared the same DIY spirit, performing in many punk concerts and even creating their own fanzines, and, above all, opening a space for other types of sonic experiences. Meine Katze Und Ich, El Sueño de Alí and Paisaje Electrónico were also the parallel projects of the members of Narcosis, the iconic punk band, one of the founders of Rock Subterráneo. Disidentes and T de Cobre brought extreme sounds to local electronics: viscerality, mechanical rhythms and the use of Casiotones or synthesizers, which resulted in an atypical sound that, in turn, portrayed a critical time in Peru, and which has made them an unavoidable reference for any historical account of techno and industrial music in Latin America. The title of this compilation is inspired by the name of a concert held in Lima in 1991, considered to be the first techno concert to have taken place in Peru. Even though not all intervening groups were doing techno at that time, they did share the fact that they all used keyboards. Four of them, however (Cuerpos del Deseo, Ensamble, Círculo Interior and Reacción), were in fact affiliated to an electronic sound (techno-pop, EBM). The concert was a sign of the diversification of musical styles in Lima's alternative scene, and in particular of the emergence of a micro scene, for which the concert Síntomas de techno [Symptoms of Techno] represented an important step towards the development of a local culture of electronic music during the 90s. Many of the recordings included here are extracted from demos with limited circulation, practically impossible to find. Other tracks are unpublished pieces which come from the private archives of the artists themselves. The compilation has been made by Luis Alvarado and is part of the Essential Sounds Collection, with which Buh Records is making available a vast archive of avant-garde Peruvian music. This compilation is published in vinyl format in a limited edition of 300 copies, with extensive information and visual documentation. Mastered by Alberto Cendra. Art by René Sánchez. Cover photography by Rogelio Martell. This project was awarded with funding from the Economic Stimuli program of the Peruvian Ministry of Culture.

Ghent based psych jazz collective Compro Oro, are set to release new album 'Buy The Dip' on the 2nd September via the groove-obsessed Sdban Ultra label. Having received critical acclaim for their 2020 album 'Simurg' - a collaboration with Murat Ertel, co-founder and frontman of Istanbul's cult psychedelic folk band BaBa ZuLa and his singer partner Esma Ertel - the band's fifth album is less ethno- and more techno-logy, both on a musical and conceptual level.

With tastemaker fans including BBC 6 Music's Gilles Peterson and Stuart Maconie alongside Jazz FM's Jez Nelson, the band's spontaneous quest for psychedelic sounds and jazz grooves has not stopped expanding since their formation in 2014.

After imaginative musical trips to Havana, Mogadishu and Istanbul for previous releases, Compro Oro went looking for sounds and inspirations from other corners of the globe for 'Buy The Dip'. Synthesizers and electronic effects spice up Compro Oro's distinctive musical marriage of vibraphones, electric guitars, jazzfunk rhythms, exotic percussions and dubby bass patterns. Band leader and composer Wim Segers created these new compositions often on piano or vibes in a more analogue way, leaving enough room for his band mates to colour each track when fine tuning the song.

Segers was inspired by the world of crypto markets and the specific concept of 'buying the dip': bitcoin diggers who play the markets at specific 'low' moments to gain higher profits when prices go up again. Are we all reduced to consuming creatures, seeking for nothing more than the thrill of pointless spending and endless profits? It's a fairly philosophical question - especially for an instrumental album - but it's key for the punchy and eclectic sounds on 'Ben Hur' and 'Bitcoins'.

Apart from those synths and fx, a fair bunch of neo-noir western vibes sprout up on this album as well - think detuned piano's, flamenco-like guitars, rattling snare drums, and imminent whistles. Add to that some laid back sunny pop sounds ('Kayak'), off-hook and swaying Turkish psychedelica ('Karsilama') and even some haunted, kraut-ish vocal parts ('Dungeon'), it's evident Compro Oro has a musical voice without any equal in Belgium and beyond.

Compro Oro released their first album 'Transatlantic' in 2015, an ode to jazz vibraphonist Cal Tjader, an icon of the 1950's Latin jazz movement. The release received critical acclaim back home, lauded in the press as a drunken mix of Buena Vista Social Club and guitarist Marc Ribot's, Cubanos Postizos. Subsequent live shows have been called a celebration for the hips, the ear and the soul.

2017 saw the release of 'Bombarda', a bold EP that sailed South and East of Cuba, incorporating different ethnic rhythms and melodies in elaborate jams. No palm trees and cocktails in Havana this time, but instead dingy basements and LSD in West African cities. The critically acclaimed 'Suburban Exotica' followed in 2019 with 'Simurg', released in 2020, earning the band global success.

'Arrival', das Debütalbum des Schwedenduos Aasthma der für ihre Erfolge im Technobereich bekannten Produzenten Pär Grindvik & Peder Mannerfelt, ist ein Hifi-Wirbelsturm mit schillernder Klangwelt, in der Top-40-Balladen und Breakbeat-Walzen fröhlich mit Trap-Bangern, neonglänzendem EDM und fauchendem Dancehall kokettieren. Vocalfeatures kommen von HTRK-Sängerin Jonnine Standish, der schwedischen Rapperin Silvana Imam, Shout Out Louds-Frontmann Adam Olenius, Equiknoxx-Mitbegründer Gavsbourg und dem glitzernden Pop-Crooner Casey MQ. Abgemischt von Aasthma zusammen mit Johannes Berglund (FKA Twigs, The Knife, Fever Ray), kombiniert 'Arrival' Technicolor-Maximalismus mit dem Glanz des skandinavischen Pop.

Marbled Vinyl
In the wake of Portable’s acclaimed album My Sentient Shadow comes a trio of remixes which expand on his unique slant on techno and synth-pop. Finding three artists who reflect his own experimental
tendencies within dance music, Alan Abraham’s original productions head into unexpected new places while retaining the physical, club-ready energy he manages to instill in his own creations.
A true auteur within techno, DJ Qu brings a sense of poise and drama to ‘The Spacetime Curvature’ as he patiently builds the track into a fierce peak time monster driven by snarling bass and his signature sizzling, shuffled percussion.
Patrice Scott has a reliably smooth, immersive approach to deep Detroit house, and it lends itself beautifully to Abraham’s melancholic vocal on ‘I Feel Stronger Now’.
Leaning in on the jazz dimension of his wide-ranging electronica, Call Super revels in the sweetness of ‘Ripple Effect’ and places delicate piano playing upfront before slipping into a relaxed, sentimental kind of garage and eventually edging towards an uplifting, off-centre strain of house music.
Individual in their own right and yet naturally entwined with the emotional intention of the original versions, this is a set of remixes which pay full credit to the source material while offering something
you won’t expect, like a great remix should do.

"What took you so long?" might be a valid question concerning the ten year gap between Zanshin's new album "In Any Case By Any Chance" and his first album "Rain Are In Clouds".

Of course it is a question that the Viennese musician has asked himself quite startled in his usual self-critical manner, just to realize at a closer look that it has not been a lack of creativity or laziness at least. He used the Zanshin moniker on four EP releases and several remixes, plus a game soundtrack. Not to forget all his output as one half of producer duo Ogris Debris (the album "Constant Spring" from 2016 and roughly two dozen singles and remixes) and the many, partly award-winning audiovisual installations and performances with Leonhard Lass as DEPART (depart.at). Furthermore he has also built two sound installations in 2021, "I Gong" at Elevate Festival and "Cymatic Sands" at Ars Electronica. In addition, Zanshin performs with the Max-Brand-Synthesizer from time to time as part of the compositions by Elisabeth Schimana, and together with label mate Dorian Concept he has also composed and performed the piece "Half Chance/Music for Moogtonium" for this unique instrument, built by Bob Moog himself.

Not spared by certain global developments of recent years, but rather invigorated by exploring his own resilience, Zanshin had a talk with Affine Records Operator Jamal in the beginning of 2021, speaking of future ideas and releases. And what was initially a single release spawned into a whole album in seemingly no time. An old skit ("Polar Polychrome") on the Roland MC-505 groove-box that had never really been forgotten, but was rather waiting patiently somewhere in the back of his mind, suddenly proved to be the initial spark for the album.

The term "Zanshin", roughly translated as un-focussed attention, is in fact more than just a pseudonym but rather a directive in the artists life. Zanshin really likes to go in several directions at once, kind of according to Wittgenstein's claim that "The world is everything that is the case.", to find out where his love for music might lead him this time. He also somehow went back to his roots with this album. Not necessarily in the sense of certain musical influences or genres, because then the album would be even more eclectic than it already is. More like a focus on the core values in the fabrication process of the music itself, the freedom to rather follow the structures and sounds than to shape them in a completely predetermined way. Somebody once called it, "to weave what the music demands."

In this regard, Zanshin often feels more like a sculptor and tries not toadhereto strongly to the rules of specific sub-genres of electronic music. Searching for sounds and designing them is one of the energies that fuels his interest the most, thus at the beginning of a lot of tracks there are small skits and ideas that have the freedom to grow in whatever direction.

Hence this album has no elaborate story to tell, there is no extensive "narrative" or big time "storytelling" at work. "In Any Case By Any Chance" is not a novel but rather a collection of short stories (which are certainly dense and have complex plots nonetheless). The result is a long-player where playful electronica, skillful songwriting, extrovert dance music and symphonic film music enter into a symbiotic relationship. Returning to another Wittgenstein quote, "Whereof one cannot speak, thereof one must be silent", the emotional impact of music is the main focus and the results can be quite solemn at times, but around the corner always lurks the next bone-breaking rhythm pattern and gnarly sound design.

The infamous saying, "writing about music is like dancing about architecture", is another brick in the wall of sound in Zanshin's approach to music. He rarely roots himself in traditions or uses them too overtly, he really likes to agglomerate sounds, to challenge the listeners. It seems like he tries to avoid classification on purpose, because he knows that everyone has their own perception anyway. The only thing that this music demands implicitly is a willingness to listen attentively.

Very dense, at times really heavy and massive, then again airy and playful. "Music for clubs that don't exist.", might be another fitting caption to describe this album, which lasts for a little more than an hour.

The opener "Heatseeker" rushes to a sudden head start with its steel pan extravaganza, tropical vibes meet a bass line drenched in electro funk, and electrified synth stabs support the declaration of love in the lyrics. Kind of Jamie XX meets Electro meets Diva House. The monster that is "Bronteroc Brawl" is up next, a serious test for the speakers and a wild ride with metallic, growling sounds. The aggressive sound design reminds of suspense ridden shark chases, vicious dogs and cunning dinosaurs, in any case a track for people who love a proper bass stomper.

A new approach for the "indie discotheque" brings the emotional roller-coaster "In Gloom" with snappy drums and hypnotic synth motives á la Alessandro Cortini, creating an epic atmosphere together with the multi-layered vocals. A psycho-acoustic treat is position 4, the crisp instrumental "Polar Polychrome", you could even go as far as calling this a Zanshin signature track. Like mentioned before, the roots of this track go back to 2002 and you can hear the unmistakable influence of beat wizards like Photek, a piercing bass line is supported by poly-rhythmic drums, while dense pads try to escape the claustrophobic lockdown mood of winter 2020/21.

Another round of intense pathos waits for the listeners in the ensuing track "In Search Of". Moderat say "Hello", a melancholy piano melody is rushed to a climax by a wild bass arpeggio and forceful drums, the desire for a perfect sunrise at the next after-hour to the max. Initially just an appendix to the preceding track, "Time After Thought" swiftly developed from a mere improvisation to an ambient epic with a croaking alien piano, as if Keith Jarrett were on his way to Alpha Centauri.

Up next is the first single "Because Why", a breakbeat driven, synth-heavy track with winged vocals and a popular film quote. The title refers to the movie "Alphaville" by Jean-Luc Godard, a dystopian science fiction film noir, in which an omniscient computer system named Alpha 60 is ruling society and humans can only say "because" but never "why". As if the gears of a galactic mechanism were spinning into motion sounds "Identity Slices". A raspy chord structure finds its counterbalance in a kind of stumbling, wonky beat, and Zanshin would never deny the huge influence that Autechre's sounds and structures always have had on his music. Micro- and macrocosm meet on the same level and this friction is also a metaphor for questions of identity and self-awareness, without using voices or lyrics.

Off we go into the IDM bubble bath of "Enzyme Enigma", the bass drum is stomping and a fizzy acid-line is twisting in all directions behind rolling dub-techno chords. "Corrosion Creak" is a kind of acoustic degradation process, the rave dogs are finally let loose and everything happens at once, funky synths shred, string sounds wail and then there is this bass that sounds like smashing a rusty metal plate in the junk yard with a vengeance.

Towards the end everything slows down a bit, the beat in "Whatever Words" is Warp school cerebral hop at its best and therefore loads of glittery, creaky sounds swarm out until the synapses are overloaded, cumulating in a mighty bass ending. Last but never least, "Rebus Redux" guides us into the limitless night sky, with long indulgent pads dotted by an aimlessly wandering piano, while a compact net of tamed resonances and meandering sub frequencies unfolds in the background, enticing navel-gazing imagination.

Zeitgeist Freedom Energy Exchange is a collective that bring together UK jazz funk vibes that have been made popular by Kamaal Williams, Shabaka Hutchings and Ezra Collective amongst others with the energy of Berlin's electronic DJ music. In fact, head of the collective Ziggy Zeitgeist is a big fan of DJ tools which equally have a big influence on his music. His aim is to create a mix of jazz and tribalistic, electronic energies to create jazz raves that reflect a fresh modern touch of what could be a sound for the next years. Of course many elements of their songs come from the 1970ies - the chord progressions, the fusion keyboard solos, the driving rhythms. But the general sound of the music and its straight electrifying energy create a new and unique futuristic sound.

The long-running Kompakt imprint will release an EP by German DJ and producer Sascha Funke in September. Sharing five tracks that traverse quirky house and techno, Treets marks Funke’s monumental return to Kompakt since his Zug um Zug two-tracker in 2014.

Speaking about Treets, Funke says he is "very happy to be back on the mothership Kompakt" after an eight-year break. As one would expect with Funke, the EP fits the cosmic world of Kompakt to a tee. The title track conveys a weird, tripped-out atmosphere as an alien-like vocal burbles between an acid bassline and squeaky percussion. It's a tantalising glimpse of Funke's freaky underworld. E_Plus follows a similar wonked-out vein, only this time, the vibe is ominous. Funke pairs an orchestral vocal with bleepy pads and signature acid-drenched melody — a solid offering oddball of energy. On Alles Paletti, a 2-step drum pattern and string of bright claps create a sunny soundscape, complemented by a robust bassline and ethereal synth notes. It's fairytale house music, the kind only Funke can produce. The penultimate track Haus More is subdued, as chugging drums slither between a wobbly melody. The Other Version feels futuristic, as Funke goes full-force electro. Extra-terrestrial vocals return, but the pace is cranked up by strident sound FX and thudding drums. An eccentric end to an eccentric EP.

Sascha Funke is a Berlin-based producer and DJ with two decades' worth of releases building his back catalogue. BPitch Control, Turbo Recordings, Endless Flight, Running Back, and several more esteemed imprints have released his work. Today, he continues to create sleek sounds that weave various genres from house, techno, disco, Krautrock, wave, electro and unclassified anomalies. As a DJ, Funke is just as free-wheeling as his productions. He's played E1 in London, Caos in São Paulo and Renate in Berlin, amongst others, displaying his sweeping sound to a worldwide audience. Having been exposed to euro-dance pop as a youngster, you can hear flashes from the genre stitched throughout his work but blended in a way that's quintessential to Funke. Never one to change his sound according to the latest trend, Funke stays true to his creative vision — one of the most significant challenges for producers today.

Das traditionsreiche Kompakt-Imprint wird im September eine EP des deutschen DJs und Produzenten Sascha Funke veröffentlichen. Mit fünf Tracks, die sich durch schrulligen House und Techno auszeichnen, ist “Treets” Funkes monumentale Rückkehr zu Kompakt seit “ Zug um Zug” im Jahr 2014.

Im Gespräch über Treets sagt Funke, er sei "sehr glücklich, nach acht Jahren Pause wieder auf dem Mutterschiff Kompakt zu sein". Wie bei Funke nicht anders zu erwarten, passt die EP hervorragend in die kosmische Welt von Kompakt. Der Titeltrack vermittelt eine seltsame, abgedrehte Atmosphäre, wenn eine außerirdisch anmutende Stimme zwischen einer Acid-Bassline und quietschenden Perkussionsinstrumenten dahinplätschert. Es ist ein verlockender Einblick in Funkes freakige Unterwelt. “E-Plus” geht in eine ähnliche Richtung, nur dass dieses Mal die Stimmung bedrohlich ist. Funke paart einen orchestralen Gesang mit bleepigen Pads und seiner typischen Acid-getränkten Melodie - ein solides Angebot voller Energie. Auf “Alles Paletti” schaffen ein 2-Step-Drum-Pattern und eine Reihe heller Claps eine sonnige Klanglandschaft, die durch eine robuste Bassline und ätherische Synthesizernoten ergänzt wird. Das ist märchenhafte House-Musik, wie sie nur Funke produzieren kann. Der vorletzte Track Haus More ist zurückhaltend, da tuckernde Drums zwischen einer wackeligen Melodie schlittern. “Treets (The Other Version)” fühlt sich futuristisch an, weil Funke hier voll auf Elektro setzt. Der außerirdische Gesang kehrt zurück, aber das Tempo wird durch schrille Soundeffekte und stampfende Drums angezogen. Ein exzentrisches Ende für eine exzentrische EP.

Sascha Funke ist ein in Berlin ansässiger Produzent und DJ mit einem Backkatalog von zwei Jahrzehnten an Veröffentlichungen. BPitch Control, Turbo Recordings, Endless Flight, Running Back und einige andere angesehene Labels haben seine Arbeiten veröffentlicht. Heute kreiert er weiterhin geschmeidige Sounds, die verschiedene Genres wie House, Techno, Disco, Krautrock, Wave, Electro und unklassifizierte Anomalien miteinander verweben. Als DJ ist Funke genauso freizügig wie seine Produktionen. Er hat unter anderem im E1 in London, im Caos in São Paulo und im Renate in Berlin aufgelegt und seinen mitreißenden Sound einem weltweiten Publikum vorgestellt. Da er schon als Jugendlicher mit Eurodance in Berührung kam, sind in seiner Arbeit immer wieder Anklänge an dieses Genre zu hören, die aber auf eine Art und Weise vermischt werden, die ganz typisch für Funke ist. Niemals verändert Funke seinen Sound nach dem neuesten Trend, sondern bleibt seiner kreativen Vision treu - eine der größten Herausforderungen für Produzenten heutzutage.

Ghent based psych jazz collective Compro Oro, are set to release new album 'Buy The Dip' on the 2nd September via the groove-obsessed Sdban Ultra label. Having received critical acclaim for their 2020 album 'Simurg' - a collaboration with Murat Ertel, co-founder and frontman of Istanbul's cult psychedelic folk band BaBa ZuLa and his singer partner Esma Ertel - the band's fifth album is less ethno- and more techno-logy, both on a musical and conceptual level.

With tastemaker fans including BBC 6 Music's Gilles Peterson and Stuart Maconie alongside Jazz FM's Jez Nelson, the band's spontaneous quest for psychedelic sounds and jazz grooves has not stopped expanding since their formation in 2014.

After imaginative musical trips to Havana, Mogadishu and Istanbul for previous releases, Compro Oro went looking for sounds and inspirations from other corners of the globe for 'Buy The Dip'. Synthesizers and electronic effects spice up Compro Oro's distinctive musical marriage of vibraphones, electric guitars, jazzfunk rhythms, exotic percussions and dubby bass patterns. Band leader and composer Wim Segers created these new compositions often on piano or vibes in a more analogue way, leaving enough room for his band mates to colour each track when fine tuning the song.

Segers was inspired by the world of crypto markets and the specific concept of 'buying the dip': bitcoin diggers who play the markets at specific 'low' moments to gain higher profits when prices go up again. Are we all reduced to consuming creatures, seeking for nothing more than the thrill of pointless spending and endless profits? It's a fairly philosophical question - especially for an instrumental album - but it's key for the punchy and eclectic sounds on 'Ben Hur' and 'Bitcoins'.

Apart from those synths and fx, a fair bunch of neo-noir western vibes sprout up on this album as well - think detuned piano's, flamenco-like guitars, rattling snare drums, and imminent whistles. Add to that some laid back sunny pop sounds ('Kayak'), off-hook and swaying Turkish psychedelica ('Karsilama') and even some haunted, kraut-ish vocal parts ('Dungeon'), it's evident Compro Oro has a musical voice without any equal in Belgium and beyond.

Compro Oro released their first album 'Transatlantic' in 2015, an ode to jazz vibraphonist Cal Tjader, an icon of the 1950's Latin jazz movement. The release received critical acclaim back home, lauded in the press as a drunken mix of Buena Vista Social Club and guitarist Marc Ribot's, Cubanos Postizos. Subsequent live shows have been called a celebration for the hips, the ear and the soul.

2017 saw the release of 'Bombarda', a bold EP that sailed South and East of Cuba, incorporating different ethnic rhythms and melodies in elaborate jams. No palm trees and cocktails in Havana this time, but instead dingy basements and LSD in West African cities. The critically acclaimed 'Suburban Exotica' followed in 2019 with 'Simurg', released in 2020, earning the band global success.

New pressing on double coloured vinyl, (Disc one White & Disc two Pink), Gatefold sleeve, DL card. René Laloux’s celebrated 1973 sci-fi animation ‘La Planète Sauvage (Fantastic Planet)’, is overhauled with a re-imagined soundtrack by electronic modernists Stealing Sheep and legendary sound innovators The Radiophonic Workshop. This exclusive release is part of Fire Records’ re-imagined score series. “No institution has had a greater impact on the development of electronic music than the BBC Radiophonic Workshop.” The Vinyl Factory. It’s a real pre-Avatar conundrum that Stealing Sheep, with the help of Bob Earland, Dick Mills and Roger Limb from the Radiophonic Workshop, unravel. Creating an ethereal excursion that’s narrated by Roger Limb; like a futuristic Martin Denny, or Dr Who gone ambient techno, with a hint of Forbidden Planet 50 years on. It’s an analogue swirl set in an off-world paradise; a field recording from the future. This is a creative, generation-spanning, union brought together to score this unique cult film. A must for fans of psyche electronica and Stealing Sheep’s formidable ‘Big Wows’ album. “Stealing Sheep devour a broad range of styles, incorporating everything from the dark dance-pop of Grace Jones to the experimentations of Radiophonic Workshop pioneer Delia Derbyshire and John Carpenter soundtracks.” The Guardian // ‘La Planète Sauvage’ is a thing of ambient beauty punctuated with electronic earworms that switches from intensely ominous to otherworldly dream like moments. Track listing: Side A A1 Opening Credits A2 The Chase A3 Saved/Captured A4 The Bracelet A5 Council of Draags pt.I A6 Terr & Tiwa A7 The Knowledge pt.I Side B B1 The Fight B2 The Knowledge pt. II B3 The Initiation B4 Escape B5 The Big Tree B6 The Ritual B7 The Duel Side C C1 Theft/Zarek C2 The Bird C3 The Free Oms C4 The Purge C5 The Journey to Ygam C6 Council of Draags pt.II Side D D1 The City of Free Oms D2 Robot Attack D3 The Fantastic Planet D4 The Final Battle D5 Terr D6 End Credits

For Oleg Azelitskiy, known as DJ Slon, the nineties and the first half of the aughts were an era of "firsts". First squat parties on the banks of the Obvodny Canal and more legitimate ones at Tunnel, first proper techno club in Russia. First DJ sets, first vinyl records in his collection, first radio shows at Port FM. He is a true veteran of the Russian techno movement, who carried his love for the genre through three decades and inspired more than one generation of musicians. Album Nr. 1 is the first edition of his music on vinyl. It comprises the music that Azelitskiy made during 1995 - 2005, except for the track My 40th Vesna, produced in 2010.

Azelitskiy's love for techno was born out of contradictions. Thanks to the Soviet synth band Zodiac and the French pioneer Jean-Michel Jarre, he had loved electronic music since his childhood. When he grew up, he got into the dark, introspective pieces by Einsturzende Neubauten and Bauhaus. Not only does the wide-ranging palette on Album Nr. 1 reflect its creator's taste, it echoes the changing times of the Russian nineties. It was the time when confrontations with criminals were inseparable from the parties and get-togethers bustling with local artists.

His affection for various genres led to many monikers and projects, all represented here on Album Nr. 1. He recorded most of his music as DJ Slon. Then there was a project Zhutkiy Lazer (Scary Laser), where Azelitskiy made music that was more experimental but still techno-oriented, with the occasional help of his friend Aleksey Gaponenko (Lazer became a proper solo project of DJ Slon in 1999). There are also tracks under the aliases Mass Fatality, which combined techno and synth-pop, and Razrushiteli Mozgovych Uliev (Brain Hive' Destroyers), with its more direct tight techno tracks.

The music of DJ Slon sounds fresher and more alive on Album Nr. 1 than ever before.
Noticeably, this record, first and foremost, is dance music. As a voice on one of the album tracks boldly states, we came to dance.

DELUXE EDITION

Das Herzstück der ersten Lou Reed Archive Series Veröffentlichung von Light In The Attic ist die Deluxe 45-RPM Doppel-LP Edition von "Words & Music, May 1965". Diese auf 7.500 Exemplare weltweit limitierte Sammlung wurde von dem mehrfach mit dem GRAMMY ausgezeichneten Künstler Masaki Koike entworfen und verfügt über einen stilisierten, gestanzten Klappumschlag, der von Stoughton Printing Co. hergestellt wurde, mit fortlaufender Foliennummerierung. Darin enthalten sind zwei 45-RPM 12"-LPs, gepresst auf 180-Gramm-Vinyl in HQ-Audiophil-Qualität bei Record Technology Inc. (RTI), mit der einzigen Vinyl-Veröffentlichung von "I'm Waiting for the Man - May 1965 Alternate Version". Eine Bonus 7" Single, die in einer eigenen, gestanzten Bilderhülle untergebracht ist und bei Third Man Record Pressing hergestellt wurde, enthält die einzige Vinyl-Veröffentlichung von sechs bisher unveröffentlichten Bonustracks, die einen nie zuvor gesehenen Einblick in Reeds prägende Jahre bieten, darunter frühe Demos, eine Coverversion von Bob Dylans "Don't Think Twice, It's All Right" und ein Doo-Wop-Ständchen, das 1958 aufgenommen wurde, als der legendäre Singer-Songwriter gerade 16 Jahre alt war. Ein begleitendes, gestanztes, 28-seitiges Buch mit Texten, Archivfotos und Linernotes enthält eine Archivreproduktion eines selten Briefes, den Reed um 1964 an seinen College-Professor und Dichter Delmore Schwartz schrieb. Das Set enthält eine CD mit dem kompletten Audiomaterial des Pakets in einer gestanzten Hülle. "Ein Tonband mit ihren frühesten Demos, aufgenommen am 11. Mai 1965 und bis heute unter Verschluss gehalten, zeigt Spuren von Dingen, die selten mit The Velvet Underground in Verbindung gebracht werden: Blues und Folk, erdig und traditionell, unsicher und zögerlich - und doch von diesem rostigen, ätzenden Lou Reed-Geist durchdrungen. Es ist eine Offenbarung." - Will Hodgkinson, MOJO. Light in the Attic Records ist stolz darauf, in Zusammenarbeit mit Laurie Anderson den ersten Titel ihrer fortlaufenden Lou Reed Archive Series vorzustellen: "Words & Music, Mai 1965". Das Album, das anlässlich des 80. Geburtstages des verstorbenen Künstlers erscheint, bietet einen außergewöhnlichen, ungeschminkten und ergreifenden Einblick in einen der wahrlich größten amerikanischen Poeten und Songwriter. Diese bisher unveröffentlichte Sammlung von Songs, die der junge Lou Reed mit Hilfe seines späteren Bandkollegen John Cale aufnahm und sich selbst als "Urheberrecht des armen Mannes" mit der Post zuschickte, wurde fast 50 Jahre lang ungeöffnet in einem Originalumschlag aufbewahrt. Der Inhalt verkörpert einige der wichtigsten und bahnbrechendsten Beiträge zur amerikanischen Popmusik im 20. Jahrhundert. Die fest in der Folk-Tradition verwurzelten Songs belegen Lous nachhaltigen Einfluss auf die Entwicklung der modernen amerikanischen Musik deutlich - vom Punk bis zum Art-Rock und allem, was dazwischen liegt. Diese Aufnahmen sind eine wahre Zeitkapsel und halten nicht nur die ersten Funken dessen fest, was die Keimzelle der unglaublich einflussreichen Velvet Underground werden sollte; sie machen Reed auch zu einem echten Beobachter mit einem angeborenen Talent, die Welt um ihn herum zu synthetisieren und in reine Klangpoesie zu verwandeln. Mit Beiträgen von Reeds zukünftigem Bandkollegen John Cale präsentiert "Words & Music, May 1965" die frühesten bekannten Aufnahmen so historischer Songs wie "Heroin", "I'm Waiting for the Man" und "Pale Blue Eyes", die Reed später mit Velvet Underground aufnehmen und unauslöschlich prägen sollte, in ihrer Gesamtheit. Außerdem sind mehrere bisher unveröffentlichte Kompositionen enthalten, die zusätzliche Einblicke in Reeds kreativen Prozess und seine frühen Einflüsse geben. Das Album wurde von Laurie Anderson, Don Fleming, Jason Stern, Hal Willner und Matt Sullivan produziert und enthält neu gemasterte Tonaufnahmen vom Originalband durch den GRAMMY-nominierten Toningenieur John Baldwin. Abgerundet wird das Paket durch neue Linernotes des renommierten Journalisten und Autors Greil Marcus sowie ausführliche Archivnotizen von Don Fleming und Jason Stern, die das Lou Reed Archiv betreuen, während die Veröffentlichung von dem mehrfach GRAMMY-prämierten Künstler Masaki Koike gestaltet wurde.