Search:telephone man

Wewantsounds Is Pursuing Its Ambitious Akiko Yano Reissue Program With The Release Of "japanese Girl", Her Landmark Debut Album From 1976. Backed By Little Feat With Lowell George And By The Cream Of Japanese Musicians (including Haruomi Hosono), Japanese Girl Is One Of The Most Important Japanese Albums Of The 70s, Mixing Pop, Rock, Japanese Folk Together With Little Feat's Superb Classic Sound. This Is The Very First Time The Album Is Released Internationally. The Deluxe Lp Edition Includes Remastered Sound, Tip-on Lp Sleeve, Download Card Plus The Original 4-page Insert With Lyrics And Full Line-up!
When Akiko Suzuki Left Her Home Town Of Aomori For Tokyo In The Early 70s Aged Just 15 To Become A Professional Musician, She Quickly Started Making Waves On The Local Music Scene Performing At The Jazz Club Rob Roy. In 1973 She Released A 7" With The Group Zariba And Caught The Attention Of A&r Man Koki Miura. She Then Recorded One Song, "oinaru Shiino-ki" With Haruomi Hosono On Bass And Drummer Tatsuo Hayashi (who Features On Many Hosono Albums And Also Hiroshi Sato's 1979 Album Orient) With A Full Album In Mind.

After A Marriage With Musician/producer Makoto Yano And The Birth Of Her Son (named Fuuta), Yano And Her Team Resumed The Recording Of The Album And Decided To Pitch Little Feat For A Collaboration As She Loved The Group. Against All Odds They Said Yes And Yano Left Tokyo For Los Angeles In March 1976 To Record A Full Side With Them. The Legend Has It They Found It So Difficult To Keep Up With Yano's Compositions They Returned Some Of Their Fee. The Session Was Nevertheless Stunning And Lowell George Even Compared Yano To Stevie Wonder. The Little Feat Blend Of New Orleans Groove Matched Yano's Melodies Perfectly, As Witnessed On "funamachi-uta Part 2." Originally A Traditional Song From The Nebuta Festival In Her Hometown Of Aomori (part I On Side 2 Gives A Good Idea Of What The Original Form Sounds Like), The Little Feat Version Is A Formidable Slow-funk Workout Not Dissimilar To Their Classic, "spanish Moon", Serving Yano's Beautiful Vocals And Sense Of Groove To Perfection. The Whole Side Is A Match Made In Heaven, Showcasing The Classic Little Feat Line Up At Their Funkiest With Yano's Unique Japanese Twist.

The Japanese Side On The Album Gives A Great Snapshot Of The Tokyo Music Scene Of The 70s With Many Musicians Gravitating Around Haruomi Hosono (and Present On His 1973 Classic Album 'hosono House' Including Sound Engineer Kinji Yoshino) And Also Several Musicians From Japanese Band, The Moonriders.

Recorded At The Legendary Onkyo Haus Studio In Tokyo, The Sessions Mix Singer-songwriter Sensitivity And Pop With Traditional Japanese Sounds And Instruments Like The Shinobue Transverse Flute, The Koto String Instrument Or The Tsuzumi Hand Drum As Played On "hekoriputaa" By The Legendary Percussionist Kisaku Katada Who Was Appointed Living National Treasure By The Japanese State In 1999; Together They Create A Beautiful East-meets-west Mix Masterfully Driven By Yano's Creativity And Unique Talent.

A Breathtaking Debut Album That Made Akiko Yano One Of The Most Important Artists To Emerge From The 70s, Japanese Girl Has Since Become A Milestone In Japanese Music With A Recent Documentary On Nhk Tv Telling The Whole Story Behind This Classic. Wewantsounds Is Now Proud To Present This Essential Album To The Rest Of The World.

For more than a decade, Freak Heat Waves have been steadily amassing a cult following and earning acclaim from both critics and underground aficionados alike. Their music is a heady cocktail that defies easy categorization, blending elements of post-punk, psych, dub, ambient, house, and techno.

Their eclectic sound has served as the soundtrack to countless DIY punk shows, outsider galleries and sleazy discos, establishing the duo as iconoclasts with a reputation for ignoring expectations and subverting genre conventions. While at times, the term ‘acquired taste’ may have seemed fitting, their latest release offers their most alluring output to date.

Mondo Tempo, the duo's fifth LP, released through Vancouver's Mood Hut, was primarily recorded at their home studios in Montreal and Victoria. Building upon the electronic explorations of their previous record, Zap The Planet (Telephone Explosion), they inject their signature sound with a smoother and sweeter blend of dance music. The album’s tracks feature midi smoothness, trance mantras, dancehall grooves, ambient textures and vocal samples, creating a world that is both captivating and immersive.

Notably, the lead single “In A Moment Divine” features a collaboration with Cindy Lee, resulting in a dance floor number that boldly ventures beyond the familiar wheelhouses of both acts. With Mondo Tempo Freak Heat Waves solidify their reputation as one of the most exciting and unpredictable acts around.

Pop/rock singer, songwriter, and guitarist Albert Hammond Jr. is the lead & rhythm guitarist and songwriting member of the GRAMMY® and BRIT Awards-winning band The Strokes. He has released 4 solo albums to date, most recently the acclaimed “Francis Trouble” in 2018 which spawned the radio single “Far Away Truths”. In the 4 years, since then, The Strokes released their US Top 10 charting GRAMMY® nominated rock record “The New Abnormal” and toured the world extensively. Albert also began the songwriting process for his 5th solo album “Melodies on Hiatus”, a 19-track album, crafted in a most experimental style. Albert teamed up with his writing partner, Canadian songwriter, and poet Simon Wilcox (whom he never met during the process) and had lengthy conversations via the telephone; Simon would jot down notes from Albert’s stream of consciousness, and draft the lyrics on her typewriter, and drop them into his letterbox! Albert then added the lyrics to the melodies he had already crafted. The songwriting process became a long distant “anonymous love affair of ideas & lyrics.” The album covers themes of childhood, surviving adolescence, adulthood, vulnerability, fame, relationship with self and others, and is Albert’s “deconstructed broken down ego reaction” to “Francis Trouble.” The album also features songs with GoldLink, Matt Helders (of the Arctic Monkeys), Steve Stevens and Rainsford, and was mixed by Tony Hoffer (known for his work with Beck, Air, M83, The Kooks, Fitz and the Tantrums, Metric, Chromeo, etc.) and mastered by Dave Cooley at Elysian Masters (Paramore, Spoon, Tame Impala, Jimmy Eat World, Peanut Butter Wolfe).

Fredfades is finally ready with his second album as a solo artist. The producer and DJ and has remained active as a musician ever since his debut single in 2008. Since he released his debut solo album 'Warmth' six years ago he's ben diving into a bunch of different genres and cross-ing musical landscapes such as ambient, hip-hop and house, which has led to releases and productions across labels like his own Mutual Inten-tions imprint, as well as bigger labels like Stones Throw, Fresh Selects and Jakarta Records. This sonic voyage has resulted in ‘Caviar’ - an album that tells the story of a producer who's ready to let go of his youthful love and indulge himself to electronic music.

Fredfades name is more often seen on foreign club posters than back home in Norway. This has colored the musical expression of the Oslo-born multi-artist, and on ‘Caviar’ he is gathering inspiration from every corner of the world where he has traveled. You can clearly hear the inspi-rations from the sounds of Rome, Manchester, South-Africa, Detroit, New York, Berlin, Paris and the Balearic ocean, which are all well repre-sented throughout the album's eight tracks. If you close your eyes and put your ears close to the speakers you will hear loons, running water, African percussion instruments, roaring saxophones, bit-crushed samples, moaning women, TB 303’s, bottom-heavy basslines and recordings of whales communicating at the bottom of the ocean. Everything seamlessly put together for Fredfades’ own sonic world view. The album features a bunch of talented friends of Fred, such as Telephones or the vocalists MoRuf and Kristian Hamilton.

Despite being known as more of a progressive and edgy DJ that haunts down a lot of indie and private press electronic music, Fredfades has cultivated a more elegant and controversial output in his own music. His progressions often consist of dwelling jazz chords from electric pianos or mellow sub-filtered synth patches that creates space where he can unleash rowdy basslines, rhythm sections and leads just as confident and captivating as the man himself. On the jazzy ‘Tenerife 1994’ you can hear a tribute to one of Fred’s greatest heroes in music: Pharoah Sanders, while on ‘My Heart Is On The Edge’ and ‘Summer of Love’ the energy and euphoria is boiling over and directs your mind towards the summer raves which Fredfades is known to throw down in Oslo.

On the LP covers backside Fredfades is posing with a Korg Wavestation in front of the block where he grew up in the suburbs outside Oslo, while the front cover is showing an airbrushed illustration of Caviar from sturgeon - ‘From block to Beluga’. The black vinyl contains magic grooves created by an electronic musical convertite, with the power to transport the listener from a perpetual winter to the 90s warm dance floors and the 'Second Summer of Love’.

First repress since its original release in May 1998

Celebrating twenty-five years since its release as rgirl2 – the label’s first LP – Rocket Girl is reissuing its seminal compilation A Tribute to Spacemen 3 on double vinyl with spot varnish sleeve in May 2023.

Widely acclaimed at the time of its release (garnering rave reviews in the UK, US, Canadian and European music weeklies and monthlies), the collection sounds as fresh and inventive as it did three decades ago. Launched at a time when tribute albums were prevalent, A Tribute to Spacemen 3 stands apart from other covers albums in that it not only redecorates S3’s songs in a bold new palette of colours, but also acts as a time capsule documenting a very specific wave of 90s US and UK bands that shared many sensibilities – ‘post-rock’ might be the catch-all genre, but their music also encompassed psych, slowcore, analogue electronica, dream pop and space rock to varying degrees – and many of whom (Mogwai, Low, Arab Strap, Bardo Pond) have gone on to reap major critical and commercial success, and are still thriving today. In 1998 the LP was a gateway for fans of Spacemen 3 to discover these relatively unknown experimental artists operating on small independent labels either side of the Atlantic – today it is a celebration of the timeless innovation and longevity of that scene.

As author Richard Milward states in Rocket Girl 20, the 2019 book illuminating the history of the label: ‘In no way is the LP a collection of imitators simply regurgitating Spacemen 3’s songs sound-for-sound – rather, the compilation celebrates the purity and bravery of Pierce’s and Kember’s song writing (themselves never averse to a transformative cover version) while showcasing the originality and diversity of those bands they have inspired.’ It is the simultaneous simplicity and otherworldliness of S3’s songs that make them perfect fodder for reinterpretation, the band’s ‘three chords good, two chords better, one chord best’ mantra providing a solid, tantalising foundation for these bands to experiment with freely. Throbbing and humming with equal parts euphoria and melancholia, over the course of the album’s 69 minutes the tracks slide from slithering stoner psych (Asteroid #4’s ‘Losing Touch With My Mind’) to hymnal delicacy (Amp’s ‘So Hot (Wash Away All of My Tears)’ and Mogwai’s crisp, glockenspiel-chiming ‘Honey’) to zero-gravity lounge jazz (Transient Waves’ closer, ‘Billy Whizz’). There are radical reworkings: the oozing fuzztone lava of Bardo Pond’s ‘Call the Doctor’, and not least Arab Strap’s startling take on S3 live mainstay ‘Revolution’, replete with aggressive, crunching drum machine and the lyrics delivered down the telephone in Aidan Moffatt’s laconic Falkirk drawl – ‘a change, a solution, a wee… a wee revolution’ – before its explosive climax.

Murmer is the long-standing project for Estonian field recordist and composer Patrick McGinley, and in Tether, The Helen Scarsdale Agency welcomes Murmer back to our roster, over a decade since he graced us with his last production for the Agency. His field recordings often center upon the amplification and activation of resonance from a particular space, landscape, or object. Such sounds emerge from a condition as begin fleeting, inconsequential, or ephemeral and explode into that which alien, sublime, and profound. Here lies the tremendous prowess of the contact microphone, as wielded by an accomplished musician! The source material cited by McGinley includes cables, fences, wires, and vents.

There is a heft to many of these sounds as heard throughout all of "Taevast" with deep throbbing pulsations from arctic wind generating subharmonic patterns upon thick high-tension wires. Elsewhere the subtle dissonance from a rasping cooling fan blooms into a brooding ambience that is sublimely rich in its metallic timbres and complex reverberations. McGingley has long been an exemplary artist in the field of phonography even as he is less prolific than others. On Tether, he has produced a majestic if occasionally foreboding work on par with the mythic wire recordings of Alan Lamb, Jacob Kirkegaard's haunted resonance from Chernobyl, and much of the Touch catalogue for that matter!

Patrick McGingley on Tether:

In 2006, I made a collection of recordings at a mobile phone mast in Mooste, southeast Estonia. It is a guyed tower, 80 meters tall, affixed to 3 support points with heavy cables. I attached my self-made contact microphones to these cables with poster tack, and spent many hours over several weeks recording the various wind and weather variances (it was summer), and the birds that passed or settled on the tower or cables. This was one of my first visits to estonia, where i now live, and one of the things that marked me about that experience was the access: the tower had no fences or protections around it (I have not been back there recently to answer my own question of whether or not this is still the case); it stands in the middle of a field of tall grass along a dirt road in the countryside, just out of view of the few nearby houses, and during all the hours I spent there I was never disturbed or shooed away.

For more than 16 years, I have been thinking about this location and these recordings, and have made several attempts to work with them. I have used the sounds in installations a handful of times, and uploaded one short edit to the Aporee soundmaps, but have never managed to use them in any composed work. They always seemed too big for any structure I could provide them, whether I left them on their own, or partnered them with other sounds. Finally, in 2019, after putting them down and picking them up again repeatedly over so many years, they seemed to allow me in, although it took me another few years before they were happy with what I could offer. They stand now not quite alone - the majority of the layered sounds in the piece come from various edits of those cable recordings, but I added two other contrasting sounds, related to one another: one is snowflakes landing delicately on a plastic cakebox with microphones inside it, and the other is a frosted field of grass thawing on a lightly warming autumn morning (both these recordings can also be heard on their own on the Aporee maps).

Coming back to those cables brought to mind so many other wind-driven sounds that I had spent time with and recorded, but never returned to, that I began digging through my archives looking for them. I ended up with a pool of sounds from resonant wires, cables, fences, poles, fans, and vents, which became the basis for the 2nd work on this release. One of these sounds is among the first sounds I ever recorded, possibly within a month or so of buying my first microphone and minidisc recorder: the rhythmic fan of a beer cooler in a pub where I worked in North London in 1999. Other sounds in the piece include another phone tower, recorded on the northern coast of France in 2008, a telephone pole recorded in the Beaujolais region in 2010, the drone of ventilator fans at a factory in Tezno, Slovenia in 2012, an electric sheep fence in the Scottish borders in 2013, a hanging wire in a storage space in Rovaniemi, Finland in 2016, and, with no relation to cables or wind at all, calcium deposits being cleaned from the inside of an electric kettle here in Estonia in 2019.

I offer these two new pieces as my first solo publication since 2018, the first release on a physical medium since 2016. No one has ever accused me of working too fast, or being too prolific. I have a need, it seems, to leave a physical space of time around my work, before I can consider it 'finished'. Perhaps it is a simple need to forget how I did something, or that I did something; perhaps I have a need to be able to hear a work as a first-time listener would, before I can consider it ready for such an encounter. In some part of my mind I have to forget it before I can let it go. Well, I've just about forgotten that London beer cooler now, and that walk in the Beaujolais (with my father, who has since passed away), and that sheep fence next to our campsite in the borders, and that kettle that is now leaky. So I guess it's time.

Der Kills Klassiker "No Wow" aus 2005 ist wieder auf Vinyl erhältlich!

With Cruisin', their second album for Telephone Explosion, Toronto's Bernice distils their playful sense of composition resulting in the most affecting collection of their young career. Across fifteen tracks, a special kind of contemporary, jazz-inflected pop unfolds, miraculous for being both fun and musically adventurous, all in the name of emotional resonance. Each groove in the bassbin is matched by a little scratch at the listener's heartstrings. The album was recorded at home with Phil Melanson (Sam Gendel, Andy Shauf) and Thom Gill (Beverly Glenn-Copeland, Joseph Shabason), led by songwriter and vocalist Robin Dann (Martha Wainwright) and producer Matthew Pencer, with additional contributions from longtime members Dan Fortin and Felicity Williams (Bahamas) being captured remotely.

Throughout their eleven years as a group, working at the intersections of several scenes and spotlights (many of which begin and end at Toronto's beloved Tranzac Club), Bernice have developed an idiosyncratic musical language that feels immediately inviting and wonderfully refreshing. The group's two previous releases, Eau De Bonjourno (2021) and Puff: In The Air Without A Shape (2018) received generous nods from both Stereogum and Pitchfork, who described the music as "unusually mesmerizing". With the songcraft a little more crystalline and the vulnerability notched up, Cruisin' feels like the right record to open Bernice up to a much wider audience.

Development of the album began in Spring, 2021 during a writing retreat at the family farm in Bond Head, Ontario. Members of the band luxuriated in slow time, tinkering with lyrics and melodies, sharing meals, knitting. From this communal gathering, the concept of 'dedication' emerged as a guiding theme. Specifically, developing songs in an almost epistolary form; as love letters or check-ins for friends, community members, pets and other more elusive acquaintances (a longtime working title for the project was 'Songs For People').

Lead single 'Underneath My Toe', one of the first pieces developed under this theme, finds the group at their most graceful and direct. Beginning with songwriter/vocalist Robin Dann singing simply 'Hi / I miss you all the time', the composition proceeds to shift subtly between soft jazz balladry and low-bit funk, revelling in the intimate beauty of a long-time-no-see letter to a dear old friend.

Though being a band that so deeply values the art of fartin' around, Bernice couldn't settle on such a straightforward approach. During the creative process, a clarifying question arose: 'Can you cruise to it?'. This somewhat ambiguous aesthetic criteria became a guiding light for the album. 'Sure, it's a beautiful song about building trust with a new nonagenarian friend... but can you cruise to it?'.

Case in point, both follow up singles, 'No Effort To Exist' and 'Second Judy', fall into a more nebulous, bewildering category of song. Undoubtedly affecting, emotionally charged, existentially searching, yet also undeniably juicy. Drum patterns skitter into place while synth tones shift on a dime to meet thematic twists. There's errant whistling and curious overdubs. Then in come elegant backing vocals, elevating the narrative while an unlikely, left-field groove is established. Miraculously, the listener is not just moved, but Cruisin'.

Therein lies the marvel of Bernice: they remind us that the rec room funk of Mario Kart 64 need not exist in mutual exclusivity to a rich tapestry of human emotions. Even as we live through this most cursed timeline, we can look into the heart of things, dwell on the challenges we're called to witness, and find a little levity to carry us through; grab a lil' mushroom and cruise the existential soup.

Sometimes, a change of view can transform a person’s world. On ‘Don’t Come Down’, the artist formerly known as Matt Pond PA can be found with his “shoulder on the concrete” of a pavement, scoping out the world anew. This granular realignment of perspective serves as an open door to the debut album from The Natural Lines. At once clearly Pond’s work yet a huge leap forward in its measured songcraft, melodic immediacy, collaborative detail and wryly questioning lyrics, the result is a gorgeous album of intimate reflections from a relocated, renamed, revivified talent.

Recorded with close collaborators and friends over a period that saw Pond make vital adjustments to his life, its stealth emergence reflects his desire to set a fresh pace for himself and come from somewhere new, somewhere more open.

Now based in Kingston, New York, with his partner and wild dog Willa, Matt explains the album’s gestation thus. “It was something different from the start. I wanted to write as purely as I could. Instead of getting stuck in the ‘tour, write an album, release an album, tour’ cycle, which is not a natural way of writing or living, I wanted to write an album and when it was done I wanted to make sure it was done. I didn’t want this feeling of, ‘Oh, we didn’t have time’, or, ‘I don’t know whether I believe in the songs but it’s coming out anyway.’ I used to be always racing to the finish line, but I’m not anymore.”

For Matt, the call to ring the changes came with the recognition of “a certain nihilism or narcissism” involved in making music. “In some ways, you have to get in your own head and I think I went too far with that, with drinking and shutting people out. In something that I believe is collaborative, it’s not helpful.”

“I quit lying,” he adds. “I checked my harsher tones. I cut my drinking down. I went to therapy and figured out how to stop shouting at cars.”

Car troubles inspire ‘No More Tragedies’, the album’s standout second track, where he wryly details his desire to dampen his twinned impulses to take pictures of license plates blocking his parking space or take bricks to said car windshields. Warming melodies and harmonies soothe his rage, a balance maintained elsewhere on the album.

A need for connection underpins the lilting ‘Alex Bell’, where Matt’s lyrics playfully reference the inventor of the telephone over a plaintive cello and bubbling keyboards – evidence of the album’s carefully nurtured arrangements. With nimble sequencing, ‘My Answer’ follows with a question: do artists really need to get messed-up to create? Matt may not have the answer, he admits, but he articulates the question beautifully, channelling the influence of Blue Öyster Cult’s ‘Don’t Fear The Reaper’ into a song of fleet, melodic electric-folk drive.

Featuring 17-year-old MJ Murphy on misty backing vocals, the softly insistent ‘Don’t Come Down’ is an album centrepiece, detailing a need to see things anew. Like The Flaming Lips writing a classicist piano ballad, the twinkling ‘Artificial Moonlight’ finds Matt writing late at night, illuminated by the lights from streetlamps. Finally, ‘Mahwah’ closes the album on a note of arrival. While Matt Pond PA’s albums emerged from the disconnection of touring and living in vans, Pond is now happily – cruel winters aside – ensconced in Kingston. “I have found a place I love. Mercury Rev lives near here. It is a cool place to be, an artistic, mountainous, wild place to live. So – maybe this is it.”

In the case of The Natural Lines, a sense of arrival suggests itself. For Matt, the album follows two decades’ worth of Matt Pond PA records and soundtrack works. In a career he once described as “a series of benign mistakes,” Matt travelled far, moving from his band’s starting point in Philadelphia to Florida, Oakland and beyond while releasing 14 well-received albums. In 2017, he declared his intent to retire the Matt Pond PA name, though it lived on briefly in the reissue of The State Of Gold and EPs such as Free Fall, a tribute to Philadelphia.

Now, the name change honours his collaborators. Among a revolving cast, one constant presence in his work has been Chris Hansen, who plays guitar, bass, keys, saxophone and vocals on The Natural Lines’ debut. Matt’s partner, Anya Marina, contributes vocals. Other band members number Hilary James (cello/vocals), Kyle Kelly-Yahner (drums), Louie Lino (keys), Sarah Hansen (horns), Sean Hansen (drums/bass), Kat Murphy (vocals) and, also on vocals, MJ Murphy, for whom Matt brims with praise: “She can do anything she wants to musically.”

A heartening rebirth for Pond and his friends, the result also pays warming, witty, reflective and infectious testimony to the value of reconfiguring one’s outlook. “Once I took control of my mind, I could see what I wanted to say more clearly,” says Matt. “Instead of random floods of mania and panic, I felt like I was composed and composing. It has become as simple as reading the words of a sentence in the right order. As small as the pause before I hit ‘send’.” A development, you might say, conducted along the most natural of lines.

Blackploid has become one of Central Processing Unit's stalwarts in the past couple of years. Martin Matiske's project contributed a trio of EPs to the Sheffield label across 2021 and 2022, with each of them showing off the kind of electro chops and production sensibilities that made Blackploid an ideal fit for an imprint which also boasts the likes of Cygnus, Silicon Scally and Bochum Welt among its catalogue.

Now, for CPU's first release of 2023, Matiske levels things up with the debut Blackploid LPEnter Universe. Across these twelve tracks, Matiske leaves us in no doubt that he's a prime mover in the world of modern electronic music.Enter Universedoes not let up from start to finish, delivering a dozen pieces of leftfield electro that draws from the sound's greats while also showcasing an unpredictability and flair that is all of Blackploid's own.

The tone is set from the first frosty chords of opening cut 'Pulsation'. The track traverses the starscape on pitter-patter drums and chirruping synths, a lively and slightly dystopian roller with an adventurous undercurrent reminiscent of classic Rephlex drops. It's a style which Blackploid often draws for throughout the rest ofEnter Universe, albeit with elements added or subtracted at each stage.

Indeed, this album features some of the most unusual production you will hear on any record this year. While the grooves pulse away in a manner reminiscent of Drexciya or Legowelt, Blackploid layers the mixes with a whole cornucopia of synth tones. 'The Mission' boasts a bleep-bloop breakdown that sounds like malfunctioning rotary telephones; 'Silent Room' is a ghoulish jam which harks back to Warp's legendary Artificial Intelligence compilations; 'Automatik' and 'Wormhole' are defined by some brilliantly strange low-ends - you'll be thinking of Mr. Oizo's 'Flat Beat' with the wiggly former, while the gurgling, writhing anti-lead that dictates 'Wormhole' is oddly thrilling and more than befits the track's title.

This inventive approach is also apparent in some of the structural choices onEnter Universe. While the tracks here all keep a steady, dancefloor friendly pulse, several of them surprise you by switching up the approach after a minute or two. 'Pulsation', 'Automatik' and 'The Mission' all feature moments where a new element - extra hi-hats, a synth line entering from leftfield - inject fresh impetus into the tune to keep the listener on their toes.

Blackploid may push the sonic envelope onEnter Universe, but this does not mean there is no room for melody. In particular, the cuts here which most strongly channel 'Computer World'-era Kraftwerk do so by fronting some slyly tuneful work, particularly in the low end of the mix. 'Unidentified' serves up delightfully springy chords, 'Cell Mutation' leads from the bassline, and 'Space Curve' features little cells of melody and counter-melody working together to closeEnter Universeout on a high.

Blackploid's debut LP Enter Universe marries Drexciyan electro and Warp-school electronica with some brilliantly inventive production choices.

- Limitierte goldene 150G Vinyl mit bedruckter Innenhülle und MP3 Downloadkarte

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.

Ingredient is the elegant collaboration of Toronto poets, composers, producers and dear friends Ian Daniel Kehoe and Luka Kuplowsky. Their self-titled release is an enigmatic electronic avant-pop record attuned to the micro and macro perspectives of the natural world. Ingredient is an album whose lyrics are more poem than lyric, and whose songs exist in a merger of house music, philosophically-minded lyricism and contemporary R&B. One might recall electronic and art-pop luminaries such as Yukihiro Takahashi, The Blue Nile, and Arthur Russell, or connect it to contemporaries like Nite Jewel, Westerman and Blood Orange. A distinct world of dance, of questions, of secrecy and ultimate softness.

Eight years of friendship forges strange telepathy.

In the summer of 2020, Ian Daniel Kehoe was entrenched in a new feeling of heaviness; psychosomatic symptoms had started to proliferate; stress made new pores across the body, bending sensitivity into pain. His days were met with confusion, detachment, sleeplessness and pain without causation. Disfigured, he felt that what had been central and centering was blown out to the periphery of things. In a moment of self-preservation he reached out to his dear friend Luka Kuplowsky to make an album together. For Kehoe, it was an instinctual grasp for the anchoring truthfulness of deep friendship and the potential for a dedicated creative collaboration. Kuplowsky’s presence was light, supportful and curious, eager to explore musically the sounds they were mutually drawn to: house music, ambient pop, dub. The duality between Kuplowsky and Kehoe – between the Aflight and the Unmoored – is a portrait of a friendship whose exchanges came easy and produced an outpouring of song. Creation and therapy crisscross. In email correspondence that catalogs their process of collaboration, affection abounds: “feels bare without the Luka Licks”, or “Love you so much”, or “Kinda just overwhelmed with deadliness coming in at all angles.” When their voices first come in together on “Wolf,” that harmony arrives in a dramatic avant-pop sound that is bold and wondrous.

Kuplowsky and Kehoe both arrive at Ingredient as established artists whose works are committed to language’s propensity to provoke and mystify. Kuplowsky’s 2020 album Stardust is an idiosyncratic and otherworldly blend of pop and jazz romanticism grounded by Cohen-esque vocals and a stirring philosophical curiosity. Kehoe’s entrance into the new decade has hatched four records of pop experimentation, most recently 2022’s Yes Very So, a euphoric and bold album of poetic synth-pop and meditative ambient instrumentals. Kuplowsky and Kehoe’s union as Ingredient is a beautiful and unusual chemistry that integrates their distinct approaches while bringing forth a newness: a sound that alternates between cinematic technicolor and dubbed out fogginess; a lyricism that exchanges their lucid and clear poetics for a playful and obtuse verse. The album intuitively taps into the opposing emotional states of Kuplowsky and Kehoe during the conception of the record, contrasting the buoyancy of trumpeting keyboards (“Resurface”), angelic synthesized voices (“Come”), and rolling bass (“Photo”) with the record’s underlying darkness of whirring buzzsaw textures (“Transmission”), whooping sirens (“Wolf”) and murky ambience (“Illumination”). Lyrically, this duality arises in the record’s flux between openness (“Variation”, “Raindrop”) and existential dread (“Wolf”). “Illumination” most clearly crystalizes this opposition, reconciling the verses’ neurotic yearning for enlightenment with the chorus’ liberating doctrine of negation: “no more devotion… no more delusion”. Amidst the gradations of light and dark, Kuplowsky and Kehoe trade indelible, lush melodies as though their voices are made of a substance that melts easily one into the other. The harmony of poetry, sound, and texture cuts through your brain fog like a wet diamond.

Ingredient’s self-titled record was assembled by Kuplowsky and Kehoe over the course of six months in a home studio they frequented daily. Amidst synthesizers and drum machines they composed, re-composed, and workshopped a wide array of music, ultimately focusing on a set of eight songs that lived in a shared musical and philosophical world. Recording days often ended in basketball games at a local court or a rooftop commune over a pot of tulsi tea and a crossword puzzle. Kuplowsky brought in the Blue Cliff Record – the classic anthology of Chan Buddhism – whose inscrutable and sublime insights remained constant throughout the recording process as an activator of reorientation and reflection. While Kehoe was frequently rendered physically immobile by bouts of anxiety, a patience and mutual caring governed the pace of their creation; rest, stretching and meditation became equally important as the act of arrangement. Invited into their intimate circle of composition was Thom Gill, whose heavenly voice uplifts “Variation” and “Raindrop,” and Karen Ng, whose alto sax simmers and dances around the funky strut of “Raindrop.”

The lyrics on Ingredient reflect the persistence of change, the infinite variability of nature where randomness and divergence are no accidents. In Daoism, duality, in the form of Yin and Yang, is not contradictory as it is in Western idealist philosophy, but rather composes the eternal and lived paradox of our changeless-changing universe: changeless because all is change, and changing because the dynamism of the Dao makes each moment transformational. Kuplowsky and Kehoe refract this way of seeing the world, as in Variation: “Variation in the natural world / there it is.” Ingredient is an experience of the manifold ways of saying there it is of the transformational world, and there it is, unfolding. Elsewhere, change and ephemerality is addressed through the record’s preoccupation with non-human perspectives, reorienting the listener to the wolf, the mouse, the emerald frog, the centipede, the bird, the fly in the lamp. The album cover visualizes this fascination with the striking image of a reddish-orange frog atop a defamiliarized landscape of dark green leaves. Mirroring the exploratory process of the record’s collaboration, the frog also signals the amphibian’s natural inclination to leap into boundless potential. Kuplowsky and Kehoe’s lyrics manifest philosopher and ecologist Timothy Morton’s concept of “the mesh,” drawing attention to the “vast, entangled web” of interconnectedness that connects all life forms and interweaving the songwriters’ shared wonder into the Animal’s unknowability. As Luka narrates in the breakdown of the dance-floor ready “Photo,” “the closer we observe things, the further they retreat into abstraction.” In Ingredient’s ecosystem, perception is a reversible fractal where the world’s minutest details mirror the shape of the cosmos.

According to the Dao, the path to healing starts by reorienting perception away from the self and toward the self’s subsumption in Totality. For Kehoe, collaborating with Kuplowsky became the reorientation necessary for the self-preservation he was seeking, opening up a shared creative practice to navigate and soften the complexity of his psychological shattering. The album begins with Kuplowsky intoning “colossal faith” which bounces around the stereo field in a cloud of echo, and it is the enormity of “faith” that centers both Kuplowsky and Kehoe’s collaboration and their inquisitiveness in the vast mysteries of our very being. Truth in Ingredient is not an essential nugget, but a bending of the light – it is the equivocal entanglement of how we are in nature as nature, but with a plea or prayer under our breath that marks our felt distance from what we are a part of: “carry me towards the mountains of my birth / returning to the nest / the silence of the earth.”

Freedom is both an integral and multi-layered topic for improvised music, describing its mechanics, aesthetics, and values and often an underlying political dimension as well. In the case of free jazz specifically, the word carries additional weight given the music's deep connection to the black liberation movement of the 1960's and 70's.

The passionate and unclassifiable work of Calgary-based improviser Jairus Sharif embraces each of these definitions of freedom and others, albeit strictly on its own personal and idiosyncratic terms. Since early 2020, the 34 year-old autodidact has been generating a steady stream of homespun solo recordings that forge unprecedented connections between hip-hop abstraction, cosmic skronk, outsider jazz, and staunch post-punk DIY ethos.

Leading up to the pandemic, Sharif's immersion in spiritual and exploratory jazz had culminated in him deciding to purchase an alto saxophone. Unbeknownst to him this instrument would be a catalyst for him to discover his own ardently individualistic artistic voice.

Prior to that point, he had always been somewhat of a solitary musical traveler. In 2002, he acquired his first instrument—a pair of Technics 1200s — but struggled to find local collaborators that had equal investment in hip hop culture. Ultimately, Sharif picked up the guitar, turning to the resilient local punk community, that had also nurtured both of his mothers some time earlier.

As Black Lives Matter gained momentum in the wake of George Floyd's murder, Sharif was suddenly flooded with an acute awareness of his own identity. It compelled him to zealously plunge headlong into open-ended spontaneous solo creation. Water & Tools, his strange and stirring debut for Toronto's Telephone Explosion Records (home to full-lengths from the likes of Brodie West's Eucalyptus, Mas Aya, and Joseph Shabason), offers a glimpse into this ongoing hermetic journey.

As Sharif dedicated himself to uncovering his own deeper musical truths, he assembled a home studio in his basement, cobbling together a drum kit from bits his bandmate had left at his house pre-pandemic, chaining effects together and outfitting the entire space with microphones. Somewhere between the chaos of child's treehouse and the tidy import of a shrine, this space (pictured on the album's back cover) consecrated his own imagination. He laid it out to maximize access to any and every tool in his arsenal, providing him a freedom to explore that he had never permitted himself to consummate before.

Within this cozy private universe, his recent purchase—the saxophone—assumed new meaning. It furnished a tangible connection to the black radicalism that mobilized free jazz, but also something far more personal. From a technical standpoint, the instrument was completely unfamiliar to him, yet rather than this being a hindrance to Sharif, his inexperience opened fruitful path forward, unencumbered by preconceptions. Resolving to shirk formal training, convention, and build his own understanding of it from scratch, allowed him to access his most raw, fundamental creative impulses. The Saxophone's inseverable bond with breath compounded this effect, echoing revelatory discoveries he had been making about breathing through yoga, research, and psychotherapy. Of course, the parallels with BLM's harrowing rallying cry—“I can't breathe”—were not lost on him either.

Water & Tools is a dense, contradictory statement with a blustery surface that shelters a soulful heart. It's generous music, exuding profound vulnerability—grappling with the loss of one his mothers, Lisa—all the while brimming with electric wide-eyed wonder. Almost every one of the nine pieces seems to carry some semblance of a groove, while remaining completely untethered from pulse. For Sharif, this collection is an expression of newfound lucidity, however for the listener his sonic concoctions act as powerful psychotropics. At points, there's a timelessness that's conveyed through the music's processional, ritualistic tenor, and yet there's an endless amount of wild, futuristic detail waiting to unspool at any given moment. Similarly, while this recording emerges from Sharif's private pilgrimage and personal emancipation, he also leaves room for collaboration. Woven throughout Sharif's one-man-ensemble textures, one finds Maxmilian Turnbull (of Badge Epoque, U.S. Girls, and Cosmic Range infamy) providing sundry keyboards and treatments, as well as his mixing skills.

Whether conjuring effusive psychedelia or plumbing introspective depths, the music that Jairus Sharif produces is singular, visceral, and wondrously unpredictable. Water & Tools sketches a raw, firsthand account of his nascent explorations within his own unbridled imagination.

Repress, note new price. Black vinyl issue of the long sold out RSD compilation. Housed in heavy duty slipcase box. FOR FANS OF… Daptone Records, Big Crown Records, 45s, Soul, Funk, R&B. This is the follow up to our first volume of Soul Slabs, which is a collection of tracks from our 7” release series. For many of them, it's the first time they'll be appearing on an LP. Soul Slabs Vol. 2 is a collection of A-sides from the 7” catalog of Loveland Ohio’s Colemine Records. Specializing in heavy soul, funk, and R&B, Colemine prides itself on authenticity and an old school production style, while still making songs that seem fresh and are moving the genre of soul forward. This 3LP collection of 27 tracks puts their diverse catalog on full display, many of these songs being presented for the first time on an LP. Featuring artists such as Durand Jones & The Indications, Kelly Finnigan, Ben Pirani, Jr. Thomas & The Volcanos, Delvon Lamarr Organ Trio, Monophonics, Ikebe Shakedown, The Dip, The Sure Fire Soul Ensemble, Soul Scratch, and more!

40-plus years since its original release, the pop-punk-new wave inventions of Anthony
Moore’s ‘Flying Doesn’t Help’ are freshly remastered, blasting the sparkling, angular
sounds into today with perfect vitality.
 After spending the early years of the 1970s making experimental music first as a solo
artist, then with Slapp Happy and Henry Cow, 1976’s ‘OUT’ sessions had reinvigorated
Anthony’s youthful love of the naive pop melodies of pop radio, the undeniable excitement
of songs. While ‘OUT’ ultimately went unreleased at the time, the iconoclasm clouding the
late ’70s air was addictive and transformative for Anthony. England seemed to be roiled
as violently as it had been in counter-cultural days a decade earlier; the UK pop charts
breathlessly reflected the changing spectrum with equal parts aging hippie and prog
delicacies alongside new ascendant sounds: rough-hewn pub and punk rock, plus dub
reggae and disco and ska and Stiff and Krautrock. This proved to be an ideal environment
for Anthony to make records by exploring, as he puts it, the “deep connection between
minimalism, repetition, working with tape and celluloid and forming the modules of a
three-minute pop song.”
 Caught up in a no-holds-barred era, Anthony was more than happy to play the out-of-hishead madman, raving through outrageous exchanges with the press, while ‘Judy Get
Down’ received Single Of The Week honours from the NME (with review penned by Brian
Eno). Represented by Blackhill Enterprises, Anthony did production work throughout
1978-1979, on Kevin Ayers’ ‘Rainbow Takeaway’, Manfred Mann’s Earth Band’s ‘Angel
Station’ and the first This Heat album, meanwhile cutting his own songs on a dead time
deal at Workhouse Studio with engineer / producer Laurie Latham. Through the wee
hours of countless nights, the two pieced together ‘Flying Doesn’t Help’, with a little help
from friends (an inspired bunch, including Bob Shilling, Charles Hayward, Chris Slade,
Robert Vogel, Festus, Matt Irving, Sam Harley, Bernie Clark, Edwin Cross and Martine
Moore on the telephone).
 Building upon the axis of pop and experimental impulses that distinguished ‘OUT’, and
informed further by the raw sensibilities exploding everywhere, ‘Flying Doesn’t Help’
blasts out of the speakers with its own unique blend of sophistication and aggression,
Anthony’s keyboard flashes between arpeggiations and outright stabs among the noise of
slicing guitars, funk basslines and the reverbed blare of the drumkit. Opening with
Anthony’s greatest hit, ‘Judy Get Down’, and containing a noise-laden remake of the
Slapp Happy/Henry Cow number, ‘War’, among other delightful sweet-and-salty
confections, ‘Flying Doesn’t Help’ never stops moving, fuelled with raw outrage and dark
satirical intent, churning with the energy of next-gen types like Tubeway Army and DEVO,
while shimmering with the elegance of the still-challenging old guard types, like Cale and
Bowie.
 Clearly, ‘Flying Doesn’t Help’ was steeped in the time, and the original release reflected a
deep mistrust of the corporation mindset. Information was a dubious concept, and
connections to any recognizable organization were seen as untrustworthy, so facts like
musician credits were left out of the package, and even Anthony’s name was altered (he
was credited as A. More on the album and Tony More on a single release). The label
name QUANGO was conceptual as well, standing for ‘Quasi Autonomous NonGovernmental Organization’; each record was sealed with red tape that the listener was
required to cut through in order to get to the music. Rather than recreate the conditions of
the original release of ‘Flying Doesn’t Help’, this reissue instead embraces the changed
environment of the current time and place: instead of no credits, now they are complete,
with Anthony’s full name restored and even the artwork subtly ‘relocated’ to reflect a new
set of relationships. All of which brings the forward-looking sounds of ‘Flying Doesn’t Help’
into the more independent-minded 21st Century syntax where it belongs.

- Limitierte goldene 150G Vinyl mit bedruckter Innenhülle und MP3 Downloadkarte

The meaning of the Blues whether sung, moaned or
shouted is a reflection of the troubled performer's
soul and there is little doubt that John Lee Hooker
was one of the most successful Blues artists that
ever lived. This collection of songs express twelve
chapters of a novel from a Blues icon who's music
continues to inspire with a legacy that lives on.

During the late 1970s, deejay-turned-producer Jah Thomas played a key role in the emerging dancehall movement, harnessing the Roots Radics at Channel One studio for rough-edged futuristic rhythms that became platforms for songs of everyday life. Junior Keating’s solid debut LP Weekend Lover gathered popular singles such as ‘Watch What You Do,’ which implored upright living, and lovers laments ‘Long Long Time’ and ‘Something Is Bugging Me’; ‘Conquering Lion’ showed that the versatile singer was also adept at deep roots tunes. With a tough mix by Scientist at King Tubby’s studio and additional editing by Bullwackie, this superb offering is of massive appeal to all fans of late roots and foundation dancehall.