Cerca:tell her

This land runs through Katherine Paul’s blood. And it called to her. In dreams she saw the river, her ancestors, and her home. When the land calls, you listen. And KP found herself far from her ancestral lands during a time of collective trauma, when the world was wounded and in need of healing. In 2020 she made the journey from Portland back to the Skagit River, back to the cedar
trees that stand tall and shrouded in fog, back to the tide flats and the mountains, back to Swinomish.

It is a powerful thing to return to our ancestral lands and often times the journey is not easy. Like the salmon through the currents, like the tide as it crawls to shore this is a story of return. It is the call and response. It is the outstretched arms of the people who came before, welcoming her home. The Land, The Water, The Sky is a celebration of lineage and strength. Even in its deepest moments of loneliness and grief, of frustration over a world wrought with colonial violence and pain, the songs remind us that if we slow down, if we listen to the waves and the wind through the trees, we will remember to breathe.

There is a throughline of story in every song, a remembrance of knowledge and teachings, a gratitude of wisdom passed down and carried. There is a reimagining of Sedna who was offered to the sea, and a beautiful rumination on sacrifice and humanity, and what it means to hold the stories that work to teach us something.

Chord progressions born out of moments of sadness and solitude transform into the islands that sit blue along the horizon. The Salish Sea curves along her homelands, and when the singer is close to this water she is reminded of her grandmother, how she looked out at these same islands, and she’s held by spirit and memory.

The Land, The Water, The Sky rises and falls, in darkness and in light, but even in its most melancholy moments it is never despairing. That is the beauty of returning home. When you stand on ancestral lands it is impossible to be alone. You feel the arms and hands that hold you up, unwilling to let you fall into sorrow or abandonment. In her songs Katherine Paul has channeled that feeling of being held. In every note she has written a love letter to indigenous strength and healing.

There is a joy present here, a fierce blissfulness that comes with walking the trails along the river, feeling the sand and th stones beneath her feet. It is the pride and the certainty that comes with knowing her ancestors walked along the same land, dipped their hands into the water, and ran their fingertips along the same bark of cedar trees.

This is a story of hope, as it details the joy of returning. Katherine Paul’s journey home wasn’t made alone, and the songs are crowded with loved ones and relatives, like a really good party. And as the songs walk us through the land it is important we hover over the images and the beauty, the moments that mark this album as site specific. The power of this land is woven throughout, telling the story of narrow waterways, brush strokes, salmon stinta, and above all healing.

Let it take you. Move through the story and see the land through her eyes, because it is a gift, a welcomed sʔabadəb.*

*The word “gift” in Lushootseed, the language of the Coast Salish people“

Gatefold double LP with insert

We recorded this album almost 15 years ago. So much has happened since then, but we feel very connected to these songs and they still mean a lot to us. The intense atmosphere, the eerie sense of loss and melancholy that this record conveys fits perfectly into the world of today. We live in urban wastelands and are surrounded by more and more isolated people who are increasingly losing touch with everything. It is hard to find some hope in these days dominated by stories of war, ecocide and solastalgia, yet many people tell us that they have found a glimmer of hope, a small portion of positivity within these songs, which are dark and bleak, but also offer some relief, some light in the darkness. That is why we decided that this record, which means so much to so many, deserves a proper remaster that on the one hand preserves the spirit of the original tracks, but on the other hand is accompanied by two re-recorded songs that in a way show the changes we have gone through as human beings and as musicians.


The future may look bleak, but all is not lost yet.
This record was and is still dedicated to those who feel.

Pauline Marx, formerly of the fantastic duo La Fureur de Vouivre, seems like a being from another time and place; namely, an escaped marauder lurking in the forests of a Bruegel painting and integrating the surreal flora and fauna of a Boschian creation into the scenery and lore of deep Brittany. Her invented mythology is loaded with murky rituals and contorted mantras, backed by the surprising sounds and textures of terrains so earthly and so unreal.

The Devil at the Crossroads

Where do you think you come from? Where do you think you're going? Lasciate ogni speranza, voi ch’entrate: you, with the noodle to the four winds, who pass the threshold of this disc, you better leave all hope there, and glide in the poisonous footstep of the devil your guide.

Where do you think you come from? The mountain is no longer just the mountain; after your passage, it will no longer even be a mountain. Like the whole landscape, it will have been eaten, sauced by invisible leeches. Your nostalgia for the ground and your thirst to find the source will have only discovered a forest of vain words and foul water. Where do you think you're going? At the crossroads, the world is consumed in the previous future. Only the devil will know how to make you overcome the disgust of traditions, and only the love for the devil will give you enough vim to reach your goal: a village, perhaps, but which belongs to no one, a haven to your excessiveness .

The dark tradition to which this game of ternary trampling belongs, like the rhythm of a heart in tune with the inverted world, has no country and no assigned time. Rather a topology of Eve awakened after a thousand-year sleep, an idiosyncratic and possessed reading of our common humus, made up of stories composted in the limbo of the past, of songs captured in extremis vitae and rebus in the privatized antechambers of death.

What does she tell us about? Of our automobile and in love roamings, of the porosity of the membranes that separate beings and things, of the constant inversion of signs. The seventeen stages of this short journey, where intertwine the throbbing of objects, blown horns and rubbed horsehair, form the map of a country never to be found, ours, where only the voice of an old child and the disgusting devil's poisonous charm can guide us.

Those lockdown silver linings continue to reveal themselves when we least expect it... As proved, once again, by the inimitable Amsterdam techno HQ Deeptrax as they present this stunning analog exploration from scene stalwart Mark Peeters AKA Caim.? Inspired, created and sculpted during those strange times when none of us could rave, Caim simply describes the moment by saying the 'clubs were closed, but creativity kept on floating'... Now that floatation is bequeathed to us through these warm, rolling and wide-armed frequencies. Tapping into a spirit that goes right back to Detroit and Chicago, there's an understated groovemanship at play as Calm jams out on the same instruments house and techno forefathers used to sculpt this culture.? Music to get lost inside of, music to take away the stresses of the day, music that's a joy to mix, weave and tell stories with... Caim has created another timeless collection of grooves that could resonate with or relate to any period in the last 35 years of dance music culture.? From the warm, opening rumbles of 'Nepi' to closing rippling dubwise echoes of 'Kapura', very few stones are left unturned as Caim tells a tale of the ages that we can all float to. Here's to silver linings. ?

* Hypnotic and seductive, Emika crafts Earthy Melodic Techno track 'Breath Cuts' using her breathy vocals, kick and devilish sub bass.

* Pleasure and pain, the euphoria Emika knows how to create sonically in order for her to lose her mind through the music and escape reality, composed and produced during the darkest chapter in her life, she mixes in the inevitable pain of a once locked-down Berlin.

* Breath Cuts is a journey-style dance track, for song-lovers or DJs that like to tell stories on their dance-floors. Emika reveals a poem in the middle of the song, a dream about being free again; 'I like to look out the window.. I like to imagine the clouds..'

* Norman Nodge, Berghain resident by night and lawyer by day, pulls out and enhances the lush ethereal vocal elements, remixing them further into an angel-like chorus, one can imagine the dancefloor in Berghain - people rushing from the sound while spirits float above them looking down.

* The two producers decided to provide listeners and DJs with a functional kick-less mix for advanced mixing pleasure.

Brit Taylor’s highly anticipated sophomore album, Kentucky Blue, is a drive down the famed Country Music Highway – Route 23 -- back to her Appalachian roots. Grammy-winner Sturgill Simpson and renowned engineer and producer David Ferguson caught wind of the Kentucky gem after her self-reflective debut album, Real Me, garnered praise from Rolling Stone, American Songwriter and NPR’s World Café. The two legends didn’t hesitate to jump in and get their hands dirty, producing the next musical chapter of Brit’s life story. The album is to be released on Brit’s own Cut A Shine Records in collaboration with Thirty Tigers. Having the courage to find her “real me” set Brit free. Kentucky Blue is a musical celebration of her healing and rebirth. It exudes confidence with a touch of attitude that replaces the melancholy, contemplative sound of Real Me. It is a progression of her life and her music and an introduction to the stand-your-ground and know-your-worth Brit of today. It is a shift back to her East Kentucky influences where the cry of the fiddle, the moan of the steel guitar, the twangy banjo and the atmospheric string section are like a journey floating through space and time. Brit continues to unabashedly write and sing about what she lives and what she knows and sees. It’s genuine. It’s who she is. Kentucky Blue is Brit’s personal invitation to you to join her at her cabin in the woods for a bourbon, a swing on the porch and a story-telling song.

3x12" 2023 Repress

To celebrate its landmark 20th release, Monnom Black invites you to enter The World of Monnom Black II - a return trip to techno's most uncompromising landscape. The triple vinyl release features 14 hand-picked contributions from the label's trusted collaborators alongside cutting-edge artists new to the roster; making this compilation one of the label's most varied and innovative collections yet.

On The World of Monnom Black II, new artists including VTSS, DIMI (AnD), Vladimir Dubyshkin, Hadone, Fractions, LDS, Aahan and Buried Secrets all throw down tracks which fuse tight machine rhythms with intricate detail. There's also a return for many established label favourites such as UVB, Dax J, Zanias and Thomas P. Heckmann as Knarz.

To round out the compilation there's a re-release of the timeless 1998 hip hop cut, "Devious Methods", from legendary drum and bass producer, Hive, and Tellurian's hardcore classic, "Big Bad City", gets a new mix from Dax J.

This release further confirms Monnom Black's reputation for representing raw analogue music and cements the label's place as the home of some of the roughest and classiest contemporary sounds in techno.

Welcome to the world of Monnom Black.

Red Vinyl

Young Fathers - Alloysious Massaquoi, Kayus Bankole und G. Hastings - kündigen heute ihr langerwartetes neues Album, „Heavy Heavy“, an. Das vierte Album des Trios erscheint am 3. Februar 2023 via Ninja Tune und ist ihr erstes seit „Cocoa Sugar“ von 2018. Das 10-Track-Projekt signalisiert einen erneuten Back-to-Basics-Ansatz ohne externe Produzenten, nur ein winziges Heimstudio, ein paar Geräte und Mikrofone: alles immer eingesteckt, alles immer in Reichweite. Über das Album schreibt Alloysious: „Jede Platte muss besser sein als die letzte. Das ist die Mentalität. Wenn es nicht besser wäre, würde es nicht herauskommen.“ Für ihn geht es bei diesem Album nicht einmal wirklich um die zehn Songs auf der Tracklist. Es geht darum, was mit dem Trio in den langen, verrückten Jahren seit „Cocoa Sugar“ passiert ist. „Heavy Heavy“ ist der Beweis für das, was von dieser Zeit übrig geblieben ist. Der Erfolg des Überlebens, der Exzess der Existenz. „Ich mag den Titel ‚Heavy Heavy‘, denn es ist alles plus die Küchenspüle", fügt G. hinzu. „Maximalistisch. Keine Art von Schlankheitskur. Es fühlt sich voll an, gewichtig. Und es zweimal zu sagen, macht es spielerisch.“
Für Young Fathers gibt es keinen Dresscode. Tanzen, nicht moshen. Die Hüften zucken, die Füße rutschen, das Gehirn feuert in Catherine Wheel-Sparks aus Freude und Empathie. Unterirdisch, aber nie dunkel. Immer noch jung, nach einigen Jahren, auch wenn die heavy, heavy weight of the world von Tag zu Tag zu wachsen scheint.

‘Living Rooms’ is a full-blooded debut of rich, playful, experimental pop from the artist Fe Salomon – full of unabashedly big songs and sumptuously big sounds. Fe’s soulful and arresting lead vocals weave amongst soaring strings and big band brass sections; clattering percussion and disjunctive rhythms; dirty electro synth and butchered guitar. A collaboration with producer and contemporary classical composer Johnny Parry, ‘Living Rooms’ is a true pop album with a distinct, exuberant and deeply generous sound.

Born in Northampton, Fe moved to London at 18 for a place at Theatre College; but soon left to concentrate on music and songwriting, falling quickly into the Camden music scene, and earning her a prolific career as a singer. Building on her diverse musical background and honing her unusual sonic style, this album has been percolating at the back of Fe’s mind for a long time. The perfect storm of personal and external factors thus created the moment to make it. ‘Living Rooms’ tells stories of multiple lives lived and lost

in the city, of friendships that meant everything and the characters you’ll never meet again, of transience and loneliness, and of getting by and moving on.

At the forefront of the album is an organic and fiercely honest lead vocal performance. However, Fe permits her voice to be twisted and distorted into the fabric of the instrumentation. The un-doctored lead vocals are frequently haunted by angels and demons, created through Fe’s uninhibited willingness to this manipulation, and capturing the more visceral emotions within the expression of the human voice.

‘Living Rooms’ navigates a wide spectrum of sounds and emotions. Take album opener “Polka Dot”, a track that mixes emotive vocals with an avant-garde alt/pop production to conjure a cut as stylish as it is shrouded in shadowy mystique. A track “about mourning innocence, and the darkness that’s picked up along the way, with an ‘up yours’ sarcastic tone, and not wanting to grow old”, it sets the scene for a twisting collection that up-ends expectations at every opportunity.

Elsewhere, the chunky hooks of “Super Human”, the sci-fi/country/big band of “Wired of Caffeine”, or the intimately sung vocals and Vaughan-Williams-esque string sections of “Taxicabs”, all contribute to an album that evolves like a rich and constantly surprising tapestry.

Although the conception of the album was a frenzy of wild experimentation. The album is faithful too, and celebratory of many joyous pop traditions; but searches for ways to reinterpret the familiar. And no less so than on the off-kilter centre-piece “Quintessential England”. Through wry lyricism and vivid imagination, the track paints a lucid, if lonely, depiction of a life lived out in the sticks; one that ultimately arrives at the conclusion that perhaps “the grass isn’t always greener”.

Gifted with the kind of superpowers that have blessed Alison Goldfrapp with her unwavering glam-pop allure and Stevie Nicks with that invincible soul, Fe Salomon’s empowering first release will prove she’s cut from the same cloth and ready to be your newest musical hero.

 With ‘Resonanzen’ (Resonances), Johanna
Summer has extended her extraordinary art and
deepened the way she re-tells the music of
classical composers through improvisation.
 The album spans a wide range, starting with Bach,
Schubert, Beethoven, Tchaikovsky, Grieg and
Ravel and ending with Mompou, Ligeti and
Scriabin.
 Johanna Summer’s deep insights into the two
worlds of composition and improvisation are the
result of the particular path along which she has
developed as a musician. In her childhood and
youth, she solely studied classical music. Jazz and
improvisation came relatively late, but when they
did, it was with a powerful focus.
 Her classical grounding remained in place, and yet
there were many things that she needed to relearn for ‘Resonanzen’. As she says: “It was very
important that I should master the original pieces
first. That was particularly demanding for
‘Resonanzen’, because each of these very
contrasting compositions makes very different
demands on me as a player. At the same time,
improvisation is also an art which you have to keep
practising and developing, so that the music can
attain its own natural flow. To do justice to both of
these sides, and to find a balance between them,
these really are lifelong tasks for me.”

If naming is a form of claiming, of being claimed, how is one tethered to both the physical landscape that surrounds us, as well as our own internal emotional landscape_at times calm, at times turbulent, and ever changing? H.C. McEntire's new album Every Acre grapples with those themes_themes that encompass grief, loss, and links to land and loved ones. And naming_claiming land, claiming self, being claimed by ancestry and heritage_permeates the hauntingly beautiful landscape that is this poignant collection of songs. The songs straddle the line between music and poetry. In "New View," McEntire cites poets "Day, Ada, and Laux, Berry, and Olds"_fixtures in the world of writing, whose works are beacons of light over bleak horizons. The beginning of the song is backed by soft guitar plucks that fall on the downbeat and spangle like stars, and, throughout, guitar, bass, and drums swell together gently, mimicking ebbing and flowing tides under the moon. McEntire's voice (at once tender and fierce) intones the truth of both giving and taking, releasing and claiming: "Bend me, break me, split me right in two. Mend me, make me_I'll take more of you." Permeated by heartbeat-like drums, "Shadows" develops quiet ruminations on surrender and loss_reminiscing, moving on. This ponderous, dreamlike song asks the question of how "to make room." How does one make room, for self and for renewal and surrender, when it is so difficult to leave what you know behind? Playing with slivers of descending chromatics, along with the occasional downward-stepping bass, here McEntire yearns for home, and for nesting. Perhaps one of the more grief-stricken songs, "Rows of Clover" is a lamentation, one that touches on the loss of a "steadfast hound." The lone piano in the beginning of the song is rhythmically hymn-like. The stark verse arrangement gradually leads to a chorus that reads like a moody exhale, swollen with lush guitar strums and a Bill Withers-esque understated soul groove. But what stands out the most is an image of being "down on your knees, clawing at the garden"_the only explicit mention of a person in the song. "It ain't the easy kind of healing," sings McEntire, seemingly from further and further away as her voice echoes; and healing ta;kes time, time takes time_truths that linger painfully. "Dovetail" is a song that tells of various women. The song moves back and forth between solo piano and the addition of bass and drums under vocals. McEntire's gentle, trembling vibrato_harmonized in thirds in a celebratory manner_calls to mind a rejoicing psalm and shines through these images, leaving the listener cuttingly fraught with emotions_such as wonder, sadness, nostalgia_that can only arise with these juxtapositions. Gracious (and graceful) with its lilting melodies and lush harmonies, Every Acre ex - plores the acres of our physical and emotional homes. These songs are reaching for the kind of home that we all seek: one where we can rest and lay down (or tuck away) our burdens of loss. And maybe, moving through every acre of a world that often tries to tear our sense of identity and heritage down, McEntire sheds light on what it is to be human in this life_both stingy and gracious, both hurtful and kind.

Orange Viny

If naming is a form of claiming, of being claimed, how is one tethered to both the physical landscape that surrounds us, as well as our own internal emotional landscape_at times calm, at times turbulent, and ever changing? H.C. McEntire's new album Every Acre grapples with those themes_themes that encompass grief, loss, and links to land and loved ones. And naming_claiming land, claiming self, being claimed by ancestry and heritage_permeates the hauntingly beautiful landscape that is this poignant collection of songs. The songs straddle the line between music and poetry. In "New View," McEntire cites poets "Day, Ada, and Laux, Berry, and Olds"_fixtures in the world of writing, whose works are beacons of light over bleak horizons. The beginning of the song is backed by soft guitar plucks that fall on the downbeat and spangle like stars, and, throughout, guitar, bass, and drums swell together gently, mimicking ebbing and flowing tides under the moon. McEntire's voice (at once tender and fierce) intones the truth of both giving and taking, releasing and claiming: "Bend me, break me, split me right in two. Mend me, make me_I'll take more of you." Permeated by heartbeat-like drums, "Shadows" develops quiet ruminations on surrender and loss_reminiscing, moving on. This ponderous, dreamlike song asks the question of how "to make room." How does one make room, for self and for renewal and surrender, when it is so difficult to leave what you know behind? Playing with slivers of descending chromatics, along with the occasional downward-stepping bass, here McEntire yearns for home, and for nesting. Perhaps one of the more grief-stricken songs, "Rows of Clover" is a lamentation, one that touches on the loss of a "steadfast hound." The lone piano in the beginning of the song is rhythmically hymn-like. The stark verse arrangement gradually leads to a chorus that reads like a moody exhale, swollen with lush guitar strums and a Bill Withers-esque understated soul groove. But what stands out the most is an image of being "down on your knees, clawing at the garden"_the only explicit mention of a person in the song. "It ain't the easy kind of healing," sings McEntire, seemingly from further and further away as her voice echoes; and healing ta;kes time, time takes time_truths that linger painfully. "Dovetail" is a song that tells of various women. The song moves back and forth between solo piano and the addition of bass and drums under vocals. McEntire's gentle, trembling vibrato_harmonized in thirds in a celebratory manner_calls to mind a rejoicing psalm and shines through these images, leaving the listener cuttingly fraught with emotions_such as wonder, sadness, nostalgia_that can only arise with these juxtapositions. Gracious (and graceful) with its lilting melodies and lush harmonies, Every Acre ex - plores the acres of our physical and emotional homes. These songs are reaching for the kind of home that we all seek: one where we can rest and lay down (or tuck away) our burdens of loss. And maybe, moving through every acre of a world that often tries to tear our sense of identity and heritage down, McEntire sheds light on what it is to be human in this life_both stingy and gracious, both hurtful and kind.

Limited Loser edition on dark green vinyl. There are times in our life when we feel magic in the air. When new love arrives, or we find ourselves lost in a moment of creation with others who share our vision. A sense that: this is who I want to be. This is what I want to share. It's a fleeting feeling and one that Kyle Thomas, the singer-songwriter who records and performs as King Tuff, found himself longing for in the spring of 2020. But knowing he couldn't simply recreate this time in his life at will, Thomas-who hails from Brattleboro, Vermont-set out to write a love letter to those cherished moments of inspiration and to the small town that formed him. The one where he first nurtured his songwriting impulses, bouncing ideas off other like-minded artists. The kind of place where the changing of the seasons always delivered a sense of perspective and fresh artistic inspiration. Where he felt a deeper connection with nature and sense of community that had once been so close at hand. And so, Thomas seized upon his memories, creating what he calls "an album about love and nature and youth." The result is Smalltown Stardust, a spiritual, tender and ultimately joyous record that might come as a shock to those with only a passing knowledge of the artist's back catalog. On Smalltown Stardust, Thomas takes us on his journey to a place where past and present collide, where he can be a dreamer in love with all that he sees. References to his Brattleboro upbringing abound, but at the core of Smalltown Stardust is Thomas's desire to commune with nature on a spiritual level. Images of the natural world, from blizzards to green mountains to cloudy days, fill the songs. "I consider nature to be my religion," he explains, and Smalltown Stardust is nothing if not a spiritual exploration. While so much of Smalltown Stardust invokes idealized traces and places of Thomas's past, the album's recording process made his communal vision a reality. Thomas's Los Angeles home in 2020 formed a micro-scene of sorts, with housemates Meg Duffy (Hand Habits) and Sasami Ashworth recording their own heralded albums (2021's Fun House and 2022's Squeeze, respectively) at the same time. A shared spirit dominated an era spent largely on the premises, with Thomas serving as engineer and contributor to both records, and Ashworth working as co-producer on Smalltown Stardust. Ashworth's contributions are vital to the album: she co-wrote a majority of the record and contributed vocals, arrangements, and instrumentation to each song. In the end, Smalltown Stardust is not merely a nostalgia trip. Thomas not only conjured a special time in his life, he found new inspiration, surrounded by collaborators and a sense of love and wonder for nature. If the first King Tuff record was content to merely state Thomas was no longer dead, Smalltown Stardust is a paean to what that life means. A statement of belief and a hymnal to the magic still to behold all around us.

There are times in our life when we feel magic in the air. When new love arrives, or we find ourselves lost in a moment of creation with others who share our vision. A sense that: this is who I want to be. This is what I want to share. It's a fleeting feeling and one that Kyle Thomas, the singer-songwriter who records and performs as King Tuff, found himself longing for in the spring of 2020. But knowing he couldn't simply recreate this time in his life at will, Thomas-who hails from Brattleboro, Vermont-set out to write a love letter to those cherished moments of inspiration and to the small town that formed him. The one where he first nurtured his songwriting impulses, bouncing ideas off other like-minded artists. The kind of place where the changing of the seasons always delivered a sense of perspective and fresh artistic inspiration. Where he felt a deeper connection with nature and sense of community that had once been so close at hand. And so, Thomas seized upon his memories, creating what he calls "an album about love and nature and youth." The result is Smalltown Stardust, a spiritual, tender and ultimately joyous record that might come as a shock to those with only a passing knowledge of the artist's back catalog. On Smalltown Stardust, Thomas takes us on his journey to a place where past and present collide, where he can be a dreamer in love with all that he sees. References to his Brattleboro upbringing abound, but at the core of Smalltown Stardust is Thomas's desire to commune with nature on a spiritual level. Images of the natural world, from blizzards to green mountains to cloudy days, fill the songs. "I consider nature to be my religion," he explains, and Smalltown Stardust is nothing if not a spiritual exploration. While so much of Smalltown Stardust invokes idealized traces and places of Thomas's past, the album's recording process made his communal vision a reality. Thomas's Los Angeles home in 2020 formed a micro-scene of sorts, with housemates Meg Duffy (Hand Habits) and Sasami Ashworth recording their own heralded albums (2021's Fun House and 2022's Squeeze, respectively) at the same time. A shared spirit dominated an era spent largely on the premises, with Thomas serving as engineer and contributor to both records, and Ashworth working as co-producer on Smalltown Stardust. Ashworth's contributions are vital to the album: she co-wrote a majority of the record and contributed vocals, arrangements, and instrumentation to each song. In the end, Smalltown Stardust is not merely a nostalgia trip. Thomas not only conjured a special time in his life, he found new inspiration, surrounded by collaborators and a sense of love and wonder for nature. If the first King Tuff record was content to merely state Thomas was no longer dead, Smalltown Stardust is a paean to what that life means. A statement of belief and a hymnal to the magic still to behold all around us.

Tape

There are times in our life when we feel magic in the air. When new love arrives, or we find ourselves lost in a moment of creation with others who share our vision. A sense that: this is who I want to be. This is what I want to share. It's a fleeting feeling and one that Kyle Thomas, the singer-songwriter who records and performs as King Tuff, found himself longing for in the spring of 2020. But knowing he couldn't simply recreate this time in his life at will, Thomas-who hails from Brattleboro, Vermont-set out to write a love letter to those cherished moments of inspiration and to the small town that formed him. The one where he first nurtured his songwriting impulses, bouncing ideas off other like-minded artists. The kind of place where the changing of the seasons always delivered a sense of perspective and fresh artistic inspiration. Where he felt a deeper connection with nature and sense of community that had once been so close at hand. And so, Thomas seized upon his memories, creating what he calls "an album about love and nature and youth." The result is Smalltown Stardust, a spiritual, tender and ultimately joyous record that might come as a shock to those with only a passing knowledge of the artist's back catalog. On Smalltown Stardust, Thomas takes us on his journey to a place where past and present collide, where he can be a dreamer in love with all that he sees. References to his Brattleboro upbringing abound, but at the core of Smalltown Stardust is Thomas's desire to commune with nature on a spiritual level. Images of the natural world, from blizzards to green mountains to cloudy days, fill the songs. "I consider nature to be my religion," he explains, and Smalltown Stardust is nothing if not a spiritual exploration. While so much of Smalltown Stardust invokes idealized traces and places of Thomas's past, the album's recording process made his communal vision a reality. Thomas's Los Angeles home in 2020 formed a micro-scene of sorts, with housemates Meg Duffy (Hand Habits) and Sasami Ashworth recording their own heralded albums (2021's Fun House and 2022's Squeeze, respectively) at the same time. A shared spirit dominated an era spent largely on the premises, with Thomas serving as engineer and contributor to both records, and Ashworth working as co-producer on Smalltown Stardust. Ashworth's contributions are vital to the album: she co-wrote a majority of the record and contributed vocals, arrangements, and instrumentation to each song. In the end, Smalltown Stardust is not merely a nostalgia trip. Thomas not only conjured a special time in his life, he found new inspiration, surrounded by collaborators and a sense of love and wonder for nature. If the first King Tuff record was content to merely state Thomas was no longer dead, Smalltown Stardust is a paean to what that life means. A statement of belief and a hymnal to the magic still to behold all around us.

The last album of Dead Cat In a Bag on vinyl! 180g + downloadcode.

"Do you know it? Ennio Morricone, Nick Cave, Mark Lanegan, Tom Waits and Zach Condon walk into the bar, and there are all the seats occupied by the Dead Cat In A Bag musicians. Really." - this is how Jarek Szubrycht started the review of the last album of the Italian group Dead Cat In Bag in Gazeta Wyborcza. And he was right. Really.
Yes! Dead Cat In A Bag is back! They are back with a new album "We've Been Through".

After exploring several so called Neo-Folk regions, flirting with Folk Noir, mostly with Traditional Folk in a modern perspective, for example Americana to Tex-Mex and Balkan Music to Alternative Country, on this third record the ensemble drifts to a cinematic landscape, focusing on the theme of overcoming.

We've Been Through puts together World Music elements incorporating an almost soundtrack experience for a journey into both Day and Night, Hope and Disillusionment and telling stories of broken romances and shipwrecks.

Utilizing banjo and theatrical vocal delivery, together with with classic and odd instruments, the band remap the original charts but still set sail the desired destinations. And if, about the previous records, critics were prone to recall the prowess of Waits, Cave, Lanegan, Cash and Tindersticks, this time it will be harder to name the grandfathers.
Now there is a Morricone (or was it Badalamenti?) guiding spirit and a dreamlike universe full of memories, from the dry electric blues of a stream of consciousness duet in Duet For Nothing to the unexpected crooning vocals provided by Liam McKahey (CousetauX) in Lost Friends (a banjo droven dirge dealing with electronics and a bassoon, with steal percussions and a music saw for a frame), from the rendition of the traditional Wayfaring Stranger, balancing between electric guitars and Bluegrass, to the intimate cover of Leonard Cohen's Hunter's Lullaby, from the rock-(swamp)blues of The Cat Is Dead (enriched by Italian bass hero Gianni Maroccolo, from Litfiba and C.S.I.) to the soft meloncholy of the string quartet in Between Day And Night, from the dark cabaret of Fiddler, The Ship Is Sinking to the soft porch song, between Willard Grant Conspiracy and Kris Kristofferson, of the final title track.
You can hear a shrawn and a blues harp, whispers and choirs, love and dudgeon as the record goes. This is the sound of an orchestra playing on a sinking ship: what else could a fiddler do? And what can we do, in the end?

If naming is a form of claiming, of being claimed, how is one tethered to both the physical landscape that surrounds us, as well as our own internal emotional landscape at times calm, at times turbulent, and ever changing? H.C. McEntire’s new album Every Acre grapples with those themes that encompass grief, loss, and links to land and loved ones. And naming claiming land, claiming self, being claimed by ancestry and heritage permeates the hauntingly beautiful landscape that is this poignant collection of songs. The songs straddle the line between music and poetry. In “New View,” McEntire cites poets “Day, Ada, and Laux, Berry, and Olds” fixtures in the world of writing, whose works are beacons of light over bleak horizons. The beginning of the song is backed by soft guitar plucks that fall on the downbeat and spangle like stars, and, throughout, guitar, bass, and drums swell together gently, mimicking ebbing and flowing tides under the moon. McEntire’s voice (at once tender and fierce) intones the truth of both giving and taking, releasing and claiming: “Bend me, break me, split me right in two. Mend me, make me I’ll take more of you.” Permeated by heartbeat-like drums, “Shadows” develops quiet ruminations on surrender and loss reminiscing, moving on. This ponderous, dreamlike song asks the question of how “to make room.” How does one make room, for self and for renewal and surrender, when it is so difficult to leave what you know behind? Playing with slivers of descending chromatics, along with the occasional downward-stepping bass, here McEntire yearns for home, and for nesting. Perhaps one of the more grief-stricken songs, “Rows of Clover” is a lamentation, one that touches on the loss of a “steadfast hound.” The lone piano in the beginning of the song is rhythmically hymn-like. The stark verse arrangement gradually leads to a chorus that reads like a moody exhale, swollen with lush guitar strums and a Bill Withers–esque understated soul groove. But what stands out the most is an image of being “down on your knees, clawing at the garden” the only explicit mention of a person in the song. “It ain’t the easy kind of healing,” sings McEntire, seemingly from further and further away as her voice echoes; and healing takes time, time takes time truths that linger painfully. “Dovetail” is a song that tells of various women. The song moves back and forth between solo piano and the addition of bass and drums under vocals. McEntire’s gentle, trembling vibrato harmonized in thirds in a celebratory manner calls to mind a rejoicing psalm and shines through these images, leaving the listener cuttingly fraught with emotions such as wonder, sadness, nostalgia that can only arise with these juxtapositions. Gracious (and graceful) with its lilting melodies and lush harmonies, Every Acre explores the acres of our physical and emotional homes. These songs are reaching for the kind of home that we all seek: one where we can rest and lay down (or tuck away) our burdens of loss. And maybe, moving through every acre of a world that often tries to tear our sense of identity and heritage down, McEntire sheds light on what it is to be human in this life both stingy and gracious, both hurtful and kind.

Motörhead veröffentlichen ihr 23. (und letztes
Studioalbum) Bad Magic von 2015 noch einmal in einer
erweiterten Version.
"Bad Magic: SERIOUSLY BAD MAGIC" beinhaltet
frisches Bonusmaterial und zwei bisher unveröffentlichte
Tracks: "Bullet in Your Brain" und "Greedy Bastards",
sowie eine glanzvolle Live Performance von der Bad
Magic Tour beim gigantischen Mt Fuji Festival in Japan
2015. Als Bad Magic 2015 veröffentlicht wurde, tat es
einen gewaltigen Schlag und alle, die meinten Motörhead
wären zahmer geworden, wurden eines Besseren belehrt.
Das Album erreichte in Deutschland auf Anhieb die Top 1
Chart Position. Producer Cameron Webb hatte seinen
Anteil daran; er überzeugte die Band, das Album in den
NRG North Hollywood, Maple Studios und Grandmaster in
Kalifornien live aufzunehmen- zum allerersten Mal in der
Ära Kilmister/Campbell/Dee.
Eine der versteckten Juwelen des Albums auf "Bad
Magic: SERIOUSLY BAD MAGIC", ist Motörheads
berühmteste, international gefeierte Version des David
Bowies Klassiker, "Heroes". Ursprünglich sollte der Song
auf Bad Magic (2015) erscheinen, wurde jedoch in der
letzte Minute wieder heruntergenommen. Jetzt aber fand
"Heroes" seinen Platz auf "Seriously Bad Magic".