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Samuel Locke Ward and Jad Fair are two of the most prolific musicians working today. Fair is a founding member of the band Half Japanese, and has released over 200 albums, including albums with Yo La Tengo, Daniel Johnston, Moe Tucker, Kramer, Teenage Fanclub, The Pastels, R. Stevie Moore, DQE, Tenniscoats, The Tinklers, Naomi Ishimaru, Jason Willett, Mosquito, and Strobe Talbot. Samuel Locke Ward has released over sixty solo albums as well as a myriad of collaborations with Bob Bucko Jr, Miracles Of God, SLW cc Watt (with Mike Watt) and the cult new age noise group Boundless Relaxation (with Joe Jack Talcum and The Bassturd). He is a cartoonist for Little Village magazine and like Jad Fair, his style musically and visually is wholly his own Pure Candy is the pair’s third album together following 2023’s Happy Hearts and Destroy All Monsters, both issued by Kill Rock Stars. Pure Candy is an album of love songs and is the feel good album of the Summer, Winter, Spring and Fall. The music was composed and performed by Ward who’s love of pop music and avant stylings offer seventeen unexpected turns over the course of a three minute song. The vocals and lyrics are by Fair, lyrics overflowing with words of love, joy, happiness, tenderness, hope and inspiration. Uplifting words for a time dearly in need of some upliftings. As with the previous two albums by Fair and Ward, this album was mixed and mastered by Jonathan Hansen and is being co-released on LP by Shrimper Records (who last worked with Fair on his collaborative three cassette box set Wonderful World) and Chicago’s Stationary (Hearts) Recordings.

The Seeds of love is the third studio album by Tears for Fears.The album was released in September 1989, entering the UK Album Chart at No.1 and would be certified Platinum by the BPI within three weeks. In the US, the album peaked at no.8, and was also certified Platinum. The album also reached the top ten in various other countries around the world.

The album contained the Singles: Sowing the Seeds, Woman in Chains, Advice for the Young at Heart and Badman’s song, upon release it was seen (and still is) as one of the greatest albums of the 80’s

Loyle Carner will release his highly anticipated sophomore record, 'Not Waving, But Drowning' on 19 April via AMF Records.

'Not Waving, But Drowning' follows Loyle's BRIT (Best Male, Best Newcomer) and Mercury Prize nominated, top 20 debut 'Yesterday's Gone'. The bedrock of honest and raw sentimentality that you heard on 'Yesterday's Gone' left an inextinguishable mark on music in general and UK Hip Hop in particular, standing out as an ageless, bulletproof debut.

'Not Waving, But Drowning', Loyle's new album, gives yet more evidence - as if it were needed - of his razor-sharp flow and his unique storytelling ability. Yes, he can rap, but he allies that with the sensitivity of a poet, the observational skills of a novelist, and warmth of your best friend. The album opens with 'Dear Jean', a letter to his mother in which he's telling her that he has found the love of his life, 'a woman from the skies', and he's moving out.

It goes without saying that Loyle's music is hard to categorise, but what is even more impressive is that for someone who grew up listening to Mos Def, Biggie Smalls, Roots Manuva, and Wu Tang Clan, he doesn't sound like any of them. Although he might from time to time give lyrical nods to them, he's no imitator.

Loyle loves cooking. There are two tracks on this album named after chefs. The British-Israeli chef Yotam Ottolenghi, and the now deceased Italian chef Antonio Carluccio. 'Ottolenghi' the first single from the album was featured on the BBC Radio 1 B-list, BBC 6 Music A-list and has already been streamed over 5 million times.

Loyle refers to real life for everything, the title of 'Yesterday's Gone' came from a song of his step father, the title of his new album 'Not Waving, But Drowning' comes from a poem by his grandfather, which in turn came from a Stevie Smith poem. What you hear on the track 'Krispy' is real. He is pouring his heart out to his best friend Rebel Kleff after their relationship went downhill, he invites him on the track to say his piece but he doesn't turn up, so we get a flugel solo instead.

Loyle also has his own personal black consciousness movement. When he refers to his 'fathers' in the track 'Looking Back' he really is referring to two fathers. His biological father, a black man who he knows, but knows very little of, and his step father, a poet and musician who happens to be a white man but died a sudden unexpected death from epilepsy (SUDEP). With no real emotional ties to his biological father, but a deep connection with a deceased step-father, where does a young child turn He succinctly captures many of the great, unspoken, cultural and historical paradoxes of multicultural Britain on 'Looking Back'.

An album like this is hard to find. It is for those who like their Hip Hop to have soul, and their soul to have spirit. This is because it works on so many levels, but it is reflecting the personality of its creator. There are a host of collaborators here, Jorja Smith, Rebel Kleff, Kiko Bun, Kwes, Jordan Rakei, Sampha, Tom Misch and more, but none are overpowering. They blend righteously into place.
Loyle is not bitter with people who have let him down, or a society that lets so many down, but the combination of anger and love he has gives his voice the perfect blend of strength and vulnerability. This might be a coming of age album, but it's also a coming of ageless album. Loyle's 2019 Spring tour - which includes London's Roundhouse - sold out within 20 minutes of being on sale.

Not Waving, But Drowning



A rapper that raps about family is hard to find. The boys in the 'hood' tend not to be that interested in how much a 'brother' loves his mother, or how much he misses his dad, or even how much he misses his best friend. The boys in the 'hood' tend to be obsessed with the size of their cars, girls, bank accounts, and other personal 'possessions'. Loyle Carner's Mercury and BRIT Prize nominated debut 'Yesterday's Gone' (Released 2017), made it clear that he wasn't that kind of rapper. In fact, every time I talk to him about his work we talk about the world, and we tended to confuse ourselves by calling his work rap, poems, or songs, sometimes in the same sentence. They are in truth all of these things.



Here's some poetry.



Honestly I need them.

I hate them but I grieve them

I think I've finally found the reason

Trust

Like the fire needs the air.

I won't burn unless you're there.





'Not Waving, But Drowning', Loyle's forthcoming new album, gives us yet more evidence, (if it were needed), that he still has what rappers call, flow, but he hasn't lost any of his story telling qualities. Yes, the boy can rap, but a rapper with the sensitivity of a true poet, the observational skills of a novelist, and warmth of your best friend. The album opens with 'Dear Jean', a letter to his mother in which he's telling her that he has found the love of his life, (a woman from the skies), and he's moving out. He really loves the woman from the skies, but he still loves his mum, and so he reassures her that there is no competition, and tells her that 'She's not behind me or behind you, but beside we and beside two', his words. Or to put it another way, moving out without moving out. My words.



It goes without saying that Loyle's music is hard to categorise, but what is even more impressive is that for someone who grew up listening to Mos Def, Biggie Smalls, Roots Manuva, and Wu Tang Clan, he doesn't sound like any of them. Although he might from time to time give lyrical nods to them, he's no imitator. He says finding his own voice was something he always found easy. Although young, (in terms of a musical career), he has confidence in his own words and his own voice, and has never been tempted to sound like he's been hanging out in the USA, or rolling in 'Grime' on the mean streets of East London. And so when it comes to the creative process he doesn't simply find a beat to jump on and ride. Beats are important, but they are tenderly layered with samples, keyboards, or live drums, all imaginatively assembled for the laying on of words. Some tracks start with the idea, some with poetry, and some with a verse from a singer or some other melodic inspiration, but there is no formula.



Here's some poetry.



Don't hold any memories of us

Rather hold you everyday until the memories are dust

Yo we only caught the train

Cos you know I hate the bus





A prolific reader, who has dyslexia is hard to find. Add ADHD (Attention deficit hyperactivity disorder) to that and life should become even more difficult. To deal with your difficulties you devise coping strategies, which can differ from person to person. Loyle loves cooking. There are two tracks on this album named after chefs. The British-Israeli chef Ottolenghi, and the now deceased Italian chef Antonio Carluccio. Loyle describes himself as 'weird' because he is happy to read a cookbook as if he was reading a novel or a book of poetry. He has opened a cookery school for young adults not just because he loves food and wants to make more of it, but because it is one of the few things that can focus the ADHD mind. And when it comes to his other love, football, his approach is the same. Focus. He wanted to be a striker he says, up front scoring goals, but found his best position was in midfield because he was able to focus, check options, and see passes ahead of time, providing passes for other players just when they needed them. He says, 'You don't grow out of ADHD, you grow into it.' Loyle is also working with Levi's® on their music project where he is mentoring young musicians over a six month period, culminating at Liverpool Sound City festival.



More poetry.



When the going is tough

I wait till it falls on deaf ears

Hearsay

Without the boundaries of love



He also said, 'Ask most people and they will say that they love their mothers, but most are not going to rap about her'. On his first album Loyle's mum Jean wrote about the 'scribble of a boy' that growing up would take things apart to see how they worked. On this album she speaks with pride about a man who has found his place in the world.



Yes, poetry.



I'm still looking for the answers

Trying to find the right questions

Still waiting for my fathers

But can't break them in to sections



This poetry is serious. Loyle has his own personal black consciousness movement. He told me that he always felt safe at home, and being the darkest one in the family never meant a thing, but then when he had to face the outside world he felt hostility. It shook him up. Now he had to start asking questions, but what were the questions. This is serious. When he refers to his 'fathers' in the verse above taken from the track 'Looking Back' he really is referring to two fathers. His biological father, a black man who he knows, but knows very little of, and his step father, a poet and musician who happens to be a white man but died a sudden unexpected death from epilepsy (SUDEP). So to whom would a young black (or mixed race) kid turn He succinctly captures many of the great, unspoken, cultural and historical paradoxes of multicultural Britain when he says, 'My great grandfather could of owned my other one.' We are a people descended from enslaved people on one hand, and enslavers on the other, something we are still struggling to come to terms with, and this can be apparent in one family. A big book could have told you that, but here we get it in one line on the track, Looking Back.





Loyle refers to real life for everything. The album is peppered with captured moments that he records on his phone. These moments can range from conversations with taxi drivers, to capturing the moment when England scores a goal in the world cup. The title of 'Yesterday's Gone' came from a song of his step father, the title of his new album 'Not Waving but Drowning' comes from a poem by his grandfather, which in turn came from a Stevie Smith poem. What you hear on the track 'Krispy' is real. He is pouring his heart out to his best friend after their relationship went downhill, he invites him on the track to say his piece but he doesn't turn up, so we get a flugel solo instead. Yes people, this is real.



An album like this is hard to find. It is for those who like their Hip Hop to have soul, and their soul to have spirit, this is an album for those who have, (I'm sorry, I'm going to say it), emotional intelligence. This is because it works on so many levels, but it is reflecting the personality of its creator. There are a host of collaborators here, Jorja Smith, Rebel Kleff, Kiko Bun, Jordan Rakei, Sampha, Tom Misch and more, but none are overpowering. They blend righteously into place. Loyle is not bitter with people who have let him down, or the society that has let him down, but the combination of anger and love he has gives his voice the perfect blend of strength and vulnerability. This might be a coming of age album, but it's also a coming of ageless album. His first album worked, and this second album is a continuation of that work. Not creating a form, but being formless, as someone like Bruce Lee once said.

And here's some poetry from mum.



We talked long in to the darkest hours

Until we saw the burnished sky

And our eyes stung

As our words blurred and became thoughts

As we were silenced by the dawn

We clung to each other like sailors in a storm

Free jazz poetry by a spry, 85 year old Joe McPhee, adapting his renowned improvised practice to words - juxtaposed with Mats Gustafson’s sparing brass and electric gestures. It’s an utterly timeless and transfixing salvo, another shiny notch for Smalltown Supersound’s Le Jazz Non Series.

As a common ligature to the OG free jazz scene of ‘60s NYC, with formative binds to its European offshoots and the experimental avant garde, Joe McPhee is a true force of nature who has represented jazz at its freest over a remarkable lifetime. In duo with Swedish free jazz and noise standard bearer Mats Gustafson, he upends expectations with an astonishingly vivid and upfront example of his enduring contribution to freely improvised music. In 11 parts he variously reflects on everything from the neon sleaze and scuzz of NYC to contemporary US politicians and laugh out loud imitations of his previous sparring partners such as Peter Brötzmann, with a head-slapping immediacy that leaves you reeling, spellbound.

McPhee’s flow of rare, organic cadence, ranging from urgent to contemplative and dreamlike, is blessed with a unique turn-of-phrase that surely mirrors his decades of instrumental work. Gustafsson, meanwhile, dextrously takes up the mantle with a multi-instrumental spectrum of sounds, leaving McPhee unbound and able to float and sting on the mic. There’s obvious wisdom in his perceptively penetrative observations, as derived from a rich cultural life well spent, but also a playful naivety and levity in his ability to veer from almost melodic speech to explosive aggression and a knowing, bathetic wit. It’s perhaps hard to believe that McPhee only started incorporating and performing spoken word in his work in the past ten years, a half century since his declaration of “What Time Is It‽” announced his arrival on a legendary debut ‘Nation Time’ (1971), ushering in one of free jazz’s most singular characters in the process.

Oscillating between discordant reflections on life as a touring musician, set to Gustafsson’s skronk and culminating in a snort-worthy imitation of Peter Brötzmann’s gruff German accent, on ‘Short Pieces’ or the glowering growl and noise exhortations of ‘Guitar’, he evokes a more sweetly consonant calm in ‘When I Grow Up’ and eerie threat of ‘The Dreams Book’, and viscerality of ‘Disco Death’, where Gustafson’s tonal versatility comes into hugely mutable play, whilst McPhee’s extraordinary, unaffected voice is a constant. It’s perhaps McPhee’s balance of cool measuredness and wellspring of barbed energies that allows us, at least, to get the most out of this one; not stifling with mannered or manicured enunciation that can trigger certain icks; keeping close to the nature of spoken word in a way that avoids cliche and becomes inherently critical of it within his purposeful, non-hesitant clarity and unflinching approach.

Needle Mythology, the label founded by music writer, author and broadcaster Pete Paphides, is thrilled to announce the release of SENSITIVE the first ever vinyl anthology to cover the indiepop scene of the 1980s. SENSITIVE features 30 songs in total by artists who defined the indiepop aesthetic, among them The Jesus & Mary Chain, The Sea Urchins, Primal Scream, The Pastels, Talulah Gosh, Orange Juice, The Field Mice, The Primitives, The Wedding Present, Miaow, Razorcuts, Dolly Mixture, The Bodines, Shop Assistants, The Soup Dragons, The Loft, The Chills, That Petrol Emotion and The Railway Children. SENSITIVE takes its name from the single released by The Field Mice, and marks the first time that The Field Mice have allowed one of their songs to be used on a compilation released by any label other than Sarah Records, who released all their records at the time. Also features on SENSITIVE is Dying Day from Orange Juice’s hugely influential debut album You Can’t Hide Your Love Forever – marking the only time that Edwyn Collins and his wife and manager Grace Maxwell have given permission for an Orange Juice song to be featured on an anthology. Many of the records featured on SENSITIVE have become highly sought-after collectors’ items since their original release. The Sea Urchins’ Pristine Christine changes hands for up to £400. Original mint copies of April Showers’ only single Abandon Ship command up to £380. If you were to try and individually buy all the records featuring the songs on SENSITIVE, you can expect to pay something around £1150. SENSITIVE features 10,000 words of extensive track-by-track notes and an essay by Pete Paphides, who was and remains an avid proponent of the indiepop scene that this collection chronicles. All the songs on SENSITIVE have been newly mastered at Abbey Road by Miles Showell. SENSITIVE will be released on double LP and double CD Needle Mythology Records.

The New Duo Album by Piers Faccini & Ballaké Sissoko: Our Calling Two decades after their very first collaboration, British-Italian folk songwriter Piers Faccini and Malian kora virtuoso, Ballaké Sissoko return with a mesmerizing album: Our Calling. Set for release in February 2025, this fascinating dialogue between a virtuoso instrumentalist at the peak of his powers and an inspired songwriter and wordsmith, succeeds in creating new song forms with a lightness of touch that bridges continents and plays with tradition.Through ten exquisitely crafted tracks, Our Calling is a sonic and narrative praise song for migration in all its forms. The two friends"s entirely acoustic dialogue was recorded in Paris side by side and live in the studio over five days. The album"s originality is that it feels deeply Malian at i s musical core, all the while being seamlessly infused with an essence of folk songwriting, sung in the English language. Recorded by Frédéric Soulard (Shapes of the Fall), the album unites an extraordinary cast of musicians, including Vincent Segal, Badjé Tounkara, and Malik Ziad.

The first-ever vinyl reissue of the classic 1986 debut album from perennial pop icon and pin-up Samantha Fox. The only British female solo artist to score three Top Ten hits on both sides of the Atlantic in the 1980s, Samantha made her name as the nation’s favourite Page Three girl before launching an enviable music career.

Touch Me features four hit singles: the international smash ‘Touch Me (I Want Your Body)’ (#3 UK and #4 US), ‘Do Ya Do Ya (Wanna Please Me)’ (#10 UK), ‘Hold On Tight’ and ‘I’m All You Need’. Immediately establishing Samantha’s signature pop-rock sound, on its original release the album hit #17 in the UK, going silver, before reaching #24 in the US with a gold certification. Pressed on striking black vinyl with white and pink splatters to complement the original aesthetic, this edition boasts painstakingly rebuilt artwork and a newly designed inner bag featuring full lyrics. A strictly limited-edition picture disc is also available. Touch Me is reissued alongside Samantha’s self-titled second album and 1989’s I Wanna Have Some Fun.

Emmanuel Mario returns to Karaoke Kalk with his third album under his Astrobal moniker for the Berlin-based imprint. »L’uomo e la natura« (»Man and Nature«) sees the prolific drummer and producer, who has worked with artists such as Laetitia Sadier and label mate Pink Shabab, take a different musical route than before. The French electronic music composer pays homage to the spirit of library music while also making concessions to different strains of pop and even classical music. With only two of the ten songs putting words to the music, »L’uomo e la natura« is a masterful exercise in the evocation of atmospheres: expressing much while saying very little outright—show, don’t tell.

The album was born out of a desire to push the envelope. »I wanted to make music that was both pop and ambitious in its chord progressions as well as surprising in its construction,« explains the Paris-based artist. Taking inspiration from library music artists such as Alessandro Alessandroni or Bruno Nicolai as well as the more cosmic strains of electronic instrumental music, he strove »to create a soundtrack that would immediately bring to mind outer space.« The first of the three singles released ahead of the full album, »L’abeille pourpre,« captures this spirit with funky rhythms and an overjoyed interplay of different melodies, all tied together by wordless yet terminally catchy vocals.

The second single, »Miami 2064,« traverses through many different moods in its six-minute run-time: Starting off as neo-noir synth-wave piece, it then proceeds to pay its dues to the masters of the cosmic music tradition such as Tangerine Dream or, of course, Jean-Michel Jarre before slowly descending back to Earth with guitars and dreamy synthetic vocals, playfully punctuated by a plethora of wistful melodies. It is the perfect encapsulation of the open-ended approach Mario follows throughout the entire album, taking full creative licence in regards to songwriting and arrangements. »I wanted to surprise myself,« he shrugs. He succeeded.

»L’uomo e la natura« rewards multiple listens not only emotionally, but also intellectually. »I also wanted to talk about politics and ecology, because it’s impossible not to,« Mario notes. Some of the track titles express this more openly than others and the two title tracks sung by Mario and Nina Savary use French and Italian lyrics, respectively. However, as a whole the album leaves things open to interpretation. Does »The End of Capitalism« sound elegiac or triumphant? And what do you actually make of this musical vision of the Floridian metropolis, whose mere existence is threatened by climate change already today, four decades from now? Mario doesn’t necessarily answer these questions—he doesn’t tell, he shows.

The Durutti Column, Linda Perhacs, Penguin Cafe Orchestra, Judee Sill. Hello and welcome to Decide Which Way The Eyes Are Looking, the new record by Lina Tullgren. It is a deeply gorgeous intervention, a carefully ornamented dilemma, the most inviting crisis. Made with a host of Los Angeles musicians, Decide exposes Tullgren's daring and trust. Each song is a ring of curious sound: the skip of harp strings, the flutter of woodwinds, the ratchet of percussion, the euphonium's sigh. And at the center of each wreath, Tullgren sings, finding this space between Judee Sill and Sam Jayne. It's a tone that signals weariness, but a weariness hand-in-hand with tenacity. There's a clarity, a kind of immovability. Lina Tullgren's first record came in 2016, a homemade, under-the-skin set of laments. Subsequent LPs and constant touring cemented Tullgren's reputation as a composer of "wide-eyed wonder paired with a resonant despair." 2019's Free Cell showed Tullgren lingering in the margins of their songs, finding places both aloof and spare. Floodgates opened; Tullgren spent the subsequent years exploring deep listening, improvised music, and extended technique. They developed a patience and faith in cooperation that ranged at the far edge of song. Collaborations with Mayo Thompson and Claire Rousay furthered this development. This was not a break with the past for Tullgren, rather it was an opportunity to see how far a song could go. And from that distance, deep in a landscape of drone and tension, Tullgren returned to the bright vulnerability of a lyric and a hook. Weaving together the affective and the radical, Tullgren took the quiet isolation of a shoreline cabin to write the songs that would become Decide Which Way The Eyes Are Looking. For Tullgren, Decide is a culmination of all the work they've done throughout their life: the melodic, the dense, the confessional, the unknowable. It's also a tribute to collaboration. Describing the sessions as having "a lot of space and a lot of ease,"" Tullgren invited musicians from a vast field of songmaking to play on the recording: Leng Bian, Zach Burba, Luke Csehak, Corey Fogel, Jenny Hirons, Tara Milch, Tim Ramsey, Michael Sachs, Jude Tedaldi, Marta Tiesenga and Ben Varian. Jonny Kosmo's backhouse was offered as a cozy, easygoing space for the players to create their parts together, and the record was completed by Tullgren and Luke Csehak together at their Los Angeles home. In Tullgren's words: "I feel really strongly that this album is a portrait of the community I found in Los Angeles." Decide Which Way The Eyes Are Looking is a quiet masterpiece: a generous, memorable journey. It is the result of five years of labor, the product of abandoning the pop song entirely and starting over. Whatever wanderings or doubt fueled it, Decide is also entirely at ease: a record on which Tullgren sings "and I know/what to do now" and "I know exactly what to do" in subsequent songs, clear in the revelations this path has given the

Cello player and electronic artist Martina Bertoni returns with her 2nd album for Karl: Hypnagogia delivers six new, masterfully crafted tracks between experimental ambient, drone and modern composition.

Cellist and composer Martina Bertoni started playing the cello at a very young age. Classically trained, her career further developed around experimental and film music, for which her cello has been featured in numerous records, works and soundtracks for films and series. After two EPs and her debut full length All The Ghosts Are Gone (2020), Bertoni joined the Karl roster where she released Music For Empty Flats in January 2021 to critical acclaim (a.o. one of the Top Ten drone albums of 2021).

On her new album Hypnagogia she continues to explore the sonic possibilities of her cello which she uses as primary source for composition and sound processing through reverbs, feedbacks and sub-bass frequencies, thus crafting sonic sculptures, rich of atmospheres and frictions, fed by ambient as much as drone and modern composition.

In the words of Martina Bertoni:
"The six tracks that constitute Hypnagogia have been written during 2021 and partially inspired by the reading of Stanislaw Lem's book Solaris. The title refers to a transitional state of consciousness from wakefulness to sleep, during which one might experience sensorial hallucinations and lucid dreaming, and can tap into the pristine structures of the subconscious. Hypnagogia portraits an imaginary cosmic journey of the Self that crash ends into a blinding sun."

Vibraphonist Milt Jackson and tenor saxophonist John Coltrane make for a surprisingly complementary team on this 1959 studio session, their only joint recording. AllMusic notes that with fine backup by pianist Hank Jones, bassist Paul Chambers, and drummer Connie Kay, Bags and Trane stretch out on two of Jackson's originals (including "The Late Late Blues") and three standards: a romping "Three Little Words," "The Night We Called It a Day," and the rapid "Be-Bop." The highlight of the set is the eponymous opening track, which just oozes late-night cool.

This deluxe 180-gram 45 RPM 2LP reissue from Analogue Productions (Atlantic 75 Series) is a gem and will be a must-have for all jazz music fans.

Maverick musician and artist Edvard Graham Lewis returns with ‘Alreet?’: an exciting album of majestic, experimental pop. Yet, the cheery North Eastern greeting of the album’s title belies the tension and drama that lies within. Here, you’ll find visceral rhythms, warm electronics and multiple melodic layers, with words that are sometimes sung, sometimes spoken. Lewis’s deep, distinctive voice has matured into a rich baritone: portentous yet immediate - and it serves his material exceptionally well. Although he is perhaps best known as bassist/ vocalist/lyricist with post-punk titans Wire, Lewis’s solo work is equally powerful. Lyrically he remains one of our finest wordsmiths. His desire to edit his text to its essentials is smartly counterbalanced by an ability to seed double or triple meanings in his phraseology. Consequently, the whole enterprise is studded with lines and couplets that snare our attention with unexpected hooks and barbs. The album is co produced with Swedish songwriter, producer and musician Max Lorentz, who has worked with everyone from acclaimed composer Magnus Lindberg to ABBA’s Agnetha Faltskog. As ‘Alreet?’ clearly demonstrates, Lewis is still firmly facing the future and determined to unearth new sonic treasure. Indeed, this is one of the most starkly original albums you will hear all year

Suicide AFTR 7 is a musical partnership forged across two continents. This cross-Atlantic collaboration was founded in Barcelona by New York’s Neud Photo and London’s Antic.Distributed by Runas, a new label also based in Barcelona. New beat and Proto-Wave influences permeate the 12”.

Lean, mean, and evocative, "Soft Geometry" sets the stage with its blend of classic analogue textures and a sound palette that evokes the darker, more hypnotic side of electronic music. Throaty samples whisper through a synthesizer smoke, sodden bass lines throb against scaling crystalline chords.

The standout track, "Interplay", is an instant classic. Lyrics are distant, words ring, “Distant shadows," as snapping snares and warming pulses pull the listener closer drawing you deeper into its hypnotic world. Across the four offerings, a brooding dance floor looms; a
shadowy square of bodies shrouded in fog, pierced by strobe. This track will stick with you long after the music fades, a perfect blend of light and shade. It's the undeniable dancefloor moment on the EP, forever playful, forever bumpin.

"Last Word" pulses with a cold, hypnotic groove, driven by a deep 808 groove that'll get you moving. Think hypnotic rhythms, driving basslines, and a touch of electro grit. Slow, ethereal strings and shimmering synth stabs create an atmosphere of tension, punctuated
by film noir samples.

A sinister seam runs through the entire EP, coming to the surface for “Blind Spot.” Terse percussive patterns and eclipsed synthlines are stalked by vocals stripped of emotion, the mantra of “We are your enemy” encircling to a close.

Label and collaborative musical collective, +33JOY announce their debut release, this first one from Bopperson & Bikbaye.

Born out of a meeting at New York’s annual Winter Jazz Festival, back in 2020, this 4 track EP entitled ‘The Wellness Project’ is a very personal project.

Neil Bopperson is a DJ, musician and producer originally from Yorkshire. Having travelled the world working as a DJ and chef, he landed in London for a while where he remixed afrobeat legend Dele Sosimi for Wah Wah 45s. Now residing in Paris, France, a sharer and carer of music in every aspect, he chooses not to follow trends but instead follow his heart, with variety being an essential part of his musical DNA.

Based in Los Angeles, Bikbaye Inejnema works as a cultural activist, writer, teacher, counselor and spoken word artist. He has a bachelor’s degree in Sociology boasting over ten years experience in social work. He works as a A.T.O.D. (alcohol, tobacco & other drugs) prevention specialist for Homeless Healthcare in L.A. He is also the Executive Director of The Conscious Youth Global Network (CYGN)

Bikbaye strives to utilize art to equip the youth with the skills to become positive, productive citizens. Focusing on diverse topics ranging from leadership development to financial literacy to health and nutrition, Bikbaye gives youth the tools they need to create empowered and enlightened content.
As Bikbaye says, “The goal is to flood the airwaves, the media, everywhere with enlightened art.”

This first release on +33JOY comes in the form of a collaborative project, with music coming predominantly from Neil, with a little help from some additional players - Sam Crowe; keys (Lianne La Havas, Little Simz & Native Dancer) and the saxophone of Nick Briggs; (Joel Culpepper, Poté & The Last Skeptik). All words and vocals are from Bikbaye.

After a chance meeting in NYC, where Bikbaye was hosting talks at The Winter Jazz Festival, speaking mainly about mental health and wellness in the music industry. His words really resonated with Neil, they connected and this EP is the outcome.

Sitting somewhere in the alternative hip hop world, music is used as a vessel for Bikbaye’s words to ring out. Upon being presented with Bikbaye’s recordings, Neil composed music and collected sound design accordingly.

Starting out the set is the stripped back ‘Wellness Is A Practice’, as the opener to proceedings the vocals take forefront and the message is clear. Found sound, an old crunchy keyboard and some guitar pulses keep the poem afloat.

‘Who Are You?’ raises important questions, directed at other artists and music industry professionals. Flute, choirs and spacy drums come together for an eerie and dubbed out moment.

Third track ‘Consumption’ conveys perhaps the most important memo on the release. Sam Crowe’s grand piano floats beautifully over the reading, really highlighting Bikbaye’s statements.

Finally, and with a more hopeful feel, ‘Changes’ was the last addition to the recording sessions. A sketch Neil had been sitting on for a while, DJ Bobafatt added some cuts and Nick Brigg’s sax solo opens this track out to a goosebumps inducing ending. The most upbeat of the four tracks serves as a perfect prelude to the club-ready remixes that will follow this release.

Who is Isabelle Lewis, anyway?

What kind of music does she make? Is she an opera singer? Does she write pop songs? Does she compose ethereal ambient soundscapes? Does she play chamber music on the violin? Is she producing dark, electronic beats?

Well… yes. But Isabelle Lewis is not so much a person as a project. Isabelle’s debut album, Greetings, credits a trio of composer–performers at its heart: producer Valgeir Sigurðsson, vocalist Benjamin Abel Meirhaeghe, and violinist Elisabeth Klinck. The sound of the elusive Isabelle Lewis is heard most clearly in the push and pull between them, the three-way tension that gives the album its musical and emotional drive.

Each of the three brings more to the collaboration than those epithets might imply. Elisabeth’s solo performance practice incorporates composition, improvisation, live electronics, and a close command of bowing and fingering techniques that make her fiddle sing, whisper or whistle as required. Benjamin is a self-taught countertenor - keening, crooning, and swelling to a voluptuous sensuality—but also an interdisciplinary stage director and performer. Well known for his work as a producer and studio collaborator, and as a composer of scores for film and stage, Valgeir’s solo discography interweaves meticulously crafted electronics, drones, noise, and other digital elements with acoustic instruments and vocals recorded with naked, unflinching clarity.

But the extravagant theatricality Benjamin brings to the aptly titled “Drama”—also featuring a heroic violin solo from Elisabeth—grapples against the thudding bass of the implacable digital backdrop. On “Mother, Shelter Me” Valgeir’s austere and detailed production throws the hushed violin and vocals into stark relief. The result is an exquisitely uncanny juxtaposition of past and present, human and mechanical, like a Rococo treasure viewed under cold fluorescent lights, or an 18th-century automaton slowly opening its clockwork eyes.

Even the lyrics seem somehow out of time. On “O Solitude,” Benjamin goes so far as to quote an entire song by the first great English opera composer, Henry Purcell, verbatim. No stranger to Purcell’s music, which has made its way into Benjamin’s theatrical productions as well, here Isabelle Lewis removes Purcell’s melodies and harmonies and sets the text, Katherine Phillips’s 17th century translation of a poem by Antoine Girard de Saint-Amant, to new music whose heightened, archaic character nevertheless seems haunted by Baroque ghosts.

Throughout the album, the outsized emotions and timeless archetypes of Benjamin’s lyrics feel like relics from some half-forgotten past—from the neatly rhymed couplets of “Fisherman,” a seemingly straightforward (but still somewhat askew) character study, to the abstraction of “Moonshell,” whose words seem like the fragments of some ancient, lost lament. It is just another of many ways in which Isabelle Lewis carefully distorts the listener’s notions of time. On a more micro level, time can stop for a moment of weightless, drifting ambience, and then plunge forward as the cloud of harmonies suddenly lock into tempo with the drop of the bass or the change of a chord. Or else that weightless moment is allowed to be, as in the aptly named prologue and epilogue to these Greetings (“Voicemail”/“…and farewell”), or in the interstitial tracks that bind the album together, connecting its dramatic peaks with expanses of meditative stasis.

The album as a whole is elegantly shaped, swelling from an intimate, interpersonal statement into something deeper and more spacious. The first half of the album leans slightly towards self-contained pop songcraft and ticking beats, while side B jumps off from “O Solitude” into the almost symphonic grandeur of songs like “Moonshell” or the instrumental “Not the water, air, or the dirt.”

But as it progresses, the contrasts only grow more sublime: antique and postmodern, human and machinelike. The ominous weight of the droning sub-bass and trombone (guest player Helgi Hrafn Jónsson) only makes the interplay between vocals and violins (guest player Daniel Pioro joining Elisabeth) seem more delicate and vulnerable. The ethereal string tremolos of “Moonshell” seem to pull against the heavy, shuddering electronics and layers of crooning vocals.

And that, in short, is where you will find Isabelle Lewis. Like an ancient stone archway, or a delicate house of cards, the architecture of Greetings is held together by the tension between opposing forces. Not just in Elisabeth’s playing, Benjamin’s singing, or Valgeir’s arrangements and production but in the conflict and contrast that generates the synergy between them.

Oh—Isabelle says hi, by the way. She’s looking forward to meeting you.

'Mei Semones' sweetly evocative blend of jazz, bossa nova and math-y indie rock is notonly a way for her to find solace in her favorite genres, but is an intuitive means ofcatharsis. "Blending everything that I like together and trying to make something new -that's what feels most natural to me," says the 23-year-old Brooklyn-based singer-songwriter and guitarist. "It's what feels most true to who I am as an artist." Plinking guitar tones and asymmetrical time signatures exemplify her forays intoangular indie rock more now than ever before, especially on her debut Bayonet Recordssingle "Wakare no Kotoba"_its wide-interval arpeggios in odd meters being some ofthe most technically difficult guitar work Mei has ever implemented in her songwriting.Translated to "parting words'' in English, the self-described "anti-love song" serves as afarewell to a toxic friendship, complete with orchestral swells and crashing guitars. Originally from Ann Arbor, Michigan, Semones began playing music at a young age,starting out on piano at age four before moving to electric guitar at age eleven. Afterplaying jazz guitar in high school, she went on to study guitar performance with a jazzfocus at Berklee College of Music. College is where she met her current bandmates,including string players Noah Leong and Claudius Agrippa, whose respective viola andviolin add softness and multidimensionality to Mei's intricate guitar work. After releasinga slew of singles and an EP in 2022, coinciding with her move to New York City, Mei andher band have since gone on to collaborate with post-bossa balladeer John Roseboroand embark on their first-ever tour with the melodic rock outfit Raavi. Semones chronicles infatuation, devotion, and vulnerability in her songs, complete withsweeping strings, virtuosic guitar-playing and heartfelt lyrics sung in both English andJapanese, that have all become part of her sonic trademark: ornately catchy, genre-fusing compositions serving as the backdrop to tender lyrics touching on theuniversalities of human emotion.

»Nuts of Ay«, the thirteenth album by the Berlin-based electronic pop duo Tarwater (Ronald Lippok and Bernd Jestram), is their first in a decade, since 2014’s »Adrift«. Beautifully poised and smartly dressed, it's an album that draws Tarwater’s various pasts into a high-definition present, while bringing the duo, yet again, into productive dialogue with all kinds of fellow travellers.

Tarwater’s music has always been marked by a hypnotic pop-ness, but that’s particularly evident on »Nuts of Ay«, where a song like »Hideous Kiss« weaves together jangling guitar, pastoral flute, and flittering electronics into a gem-like construction. While the lyrics of »Hideous Kiss« are written by the duo, »Nuts of Ay« also continues a longstanding Tarwater tradition of recasting the words of others in their own mould. This time, their remit is broad: poetry from Derek Jarman (»All Nuns«) and Millner Place (»Trapdoor Spider«); lyrics from Jean Kenbrovin (»I’m Forever Blowing Bubbles«), the late Shane MacGowan (»USA«) and, again, John Lennon (»Everybody Had a Hard Year«).

This cast of found and borrowed lyricists also finds collaborative echo in the guest musicians dotted throughout »Nuts of Ay«. Schneider TM turns up on the lovely, Felt-like »Spirit of Flux«, where guitars channel the tangled reveries of Vini Reilly and Maurice Deebank into lush pop. Carsten Nicolai joins, as Alva Noto, dappling »On Waves and Years« with intimate glitching textures; he also provides the album cover art. Elsewhere, Masha Qrella appears on »Down Comes the Goose«, and actor Lars Rudolph pitches in for »USA«.

It may have been ten years since the album's predecessor, but Lippok and Jestram have kept active with other projects. They’ve collaborated with Masha Qrella, Immersion, and Iggy Pop; worked on radio plays with Kai Grehn, some based on the writing of Nick Cave (»The Sick Bag Song«, featuring Tilda Swinton, Paula Beer and Alexander Fehling) and William S. Burroughs (»The Cat Inside«); and made music for several radio-tatorts (radio plays based on »Tatort«, a long-running German police TV series) by playwright Tom Peuckert.

Both voracious and committed in their creative energies, Jestram and Lippok report back from these experiments with »Nuts of Ay«, one of their most compelling, deeply lustrous, dreamlike albums yet. They say there was no concept for the album, which is surprising, perhaps, given its holistic mood, explaining it »grew together like a coral reef in the studio over a period of several years«. There’s something to be said for letting an album gather and mutate naturally, without an overarching framework in place, and »Nuts of Ay« certainly feels like an unforced collection of material that nonetheless inhabits a similar space, one where guitars twist like driftwood next to amorphous, aqueous electronics, Lippok’s droll yet completely convincing vocal delivery riding songs that pulse and plume with curious, unpredictable rhythms.

But you can also hear elements – submerged but still present – of other music that’s inspired the duo: they’ve drawn some connections for us with psychedelic folk, Bowie in Berlin, Burial, and the film music of Popol Vuh and Krzysztof Komeda. This music shares a strong sense of place – whether in the world, or the mind – and the twelve songs on »Nuts of Ay« have such similar presence; a shared mood, a shared world, a shared sense of the possibilities of what electronic pop music could, and should, be. A bold and brave pop experiment.

Artwork by Carsten Nicolai
Mastering by Bo Kondren, Calyx Berlin

»Trapdoor Spider«, »On Waves and Years« & »Breaking Day«: lyrics by Milner Place
»All Nuns«: lyrics by Derek Jarman
»USA«: lyrics by Shane MacGowan
»Down Comes the Goose«: lyrics from a traditional song
»Forever Blowing Bubbles«: lyrics by Jaan Kenbrovin
»Everybody Had a Hard Year«: lyrics by John Lennon

Following a fallow 2023, a rejuvenated Growing Bin return to your turntable with this sublime collaborative LP from Gosha Martynov & Natasha Sinyakova. On their first foray into the physical, the duo expand the spectral ambience and medicated breaks of their earlier work with lithe touches of organic jazz and Cafe Del Mar cool, creating a complex assemblage of dreamy downbeat and emotive electronica that's entirely easy on the ears.

Opener "Pozhaluysta" seduces with smart syncopation and beguiling melody, its flute and fretwork finding ample space to slip around Natasha's voice, equal parts Cocteau operatics and jazz-club coquette, in an expression of a want beyond words. The mood shifting "Osvobodi Menia" sees the solemn, snaking sound of a sampled duduk drift into an optimism of airy pads and escapist mantra, suspended in reverb until the end of time. "Ya Tebia Zhdala" began life as a break-led experiment, gradually evolving into a romantic and naive sketch rich with splashes of piano and dynamic chorus pads. Naturalist hymn "O Dereve" weaves a dark and intimate tale from the point of view of a veteran tree as its buzzsaw guitar loops blossom into multilayered vocals full of emotion.

Awash with sonar sweeps, sumptuous pads and rolling subs, the titular "Imena Rek" channels post-rave bliss into the hypnagogic anthem the contemporary IDM-ographic have been searching for. Infectious hooks and spaced out pads ride the breakbeat rhythm for a dreamy experimental pop banger from another planet. The sombre sway of "Rany", filtered through the fog of a broken cassette recorder, trance djembe and unpredictable bass tones rivals the finest Motion Ward or In:dex releases for crepuscular charm, while "Smeshno" sees serrated drones sink into a slinking rhythm, playing counterpoint to the tender chords and yearning vocals.

"Iskra" closes out the chiasmus with a return to the organic experience of the opener, the flute and acoustic guitar augmented with nuanced hand percussion and a music box refrain. Listening to this album is like a midnight walk through an ancient forest - an experience which both scares and tempts you at the same time. From touching damp moss to feeling the thick fog with your body and watching mushrooms glow in the dark, 'Imena Rek' guides you through the terrain.

Flawlessly arranged and executed, this LP alludes to a long lineage of innovative downbeat, feels absolutely essential in the present and pushes the trip hop revivalists towards a fascinating future - Gosha Martynov & Natasha Sinyakova have created a timeless piece of music,
but what else do you expect from the Bin?

Dischi Fantom’s Sussurra Luce series, blurring the boundaries between text, music and voice, returns with their fifth instalment, an expanded version of Hanne Lippard’s “Talk Shop”. Sculpting a fascinating bridge between radically experimental sound practice, conceptual art, and sound poetry, across its two sides the Berlin based multidisciplinary artist taps an almost dada sensibility, delivering a suite of poems and texts where singular words and sentences are looped and repeated creating a sensory experience of the efficiency and stress found in our private as well as public life.

Roughly a year ago, we had the pleasure of exploring the first two releases from Dischi Fantom’s emerging Sussurra Luce series, Ginevra Bompiani, Caterina Barbieri, and Tomoko Sauvage’s “Il Calore Animale” and Francesco Cavaliere’s “Zoomachia Disc 1”. An extension of the Milan based cultural platform Fantom’s broad and diverse activities (exhibitions, installations, performances, etc.) across numerous artistic disciplines, the series, curated by Francesco Cavaliere and Massimo Torrigiani, delves into the “science of imagination”, working with contemporary authors to explore and blur the boundaries between text, music and voice. Now the brilliant series returns with its latest entry, the Berlin based multidisciplinary artist Hanne Lippard’s “Talk Shop”. Released in a limited edition of 200 copies and coming with an LP-sized booklet, it combines orality and textuality with the idea of loop and repetition to explore the notion of time, and it’s a stunning gesture of performative poetics that plums a startling range of subjects through its sonorous forms.

Working across the fields of text, vocal performance, sound installation, printed objects and sculpture, for more than a decade Hanne Lippard has deployed language as the raw material for her work. Working within a practice that rests at the juncture of the spoken and written word, drawing upon content appropriated from the public sphere (found text) intertwined with her own words, Lippard’s work investigates how the rise in digital communication and mediation reprograms our relationship to language, presenting the subsequent fragility of language - its flaws, oddities, and potential for misinterpretation - and its attempts to convey meaning and sense.

“Talk Shop”, the fifth instalment of Dischi Fantom’s Sussurra Luce series and Lippard’s third recorded release - building upon the ground of 2020's “Work”, issued by Collapsing Market, and 2021's “PigeonPostParis”, released by Boomkat Editions - began as a live performance. Combining orality and textuality with the idea of loop and repetition to explore the notion of time, its relationship with the world of work today, and its personification through the experience of the human body - anonymity as the spearhead of the digital economy - the conceptual underpinnings of the piece depart from the notion that the human voice has become commodified by the ubiquitous nature of contemporary productivity, and intertwined with the mechanics of capital - the voices of satnavs, smart speakers and voicemail systems - while the written word has become increasingly anonymous online.

Addressing vocal anonymity as a spearhead of the digital economy, Lippard’s “Talk Shop” - regarded by the artist as “a compilation of poems and texts where singular words and sentences are looped and repeated creating a sensory experience of the efficiency and stress found in our private as well as public life” - taps an almost dada sensibility through its unexpected layers of meanings drawn from a maximalized approach to the potential of the human voice, creating an engrossing and challenging listen from the first sounding to the last, that continues to reveal itself and unfold with every return.

Sculpting a fascinating bridge between radically experimental sound practice, conceptual art, and sound poetry, it culminates as one of the most strikingly singular creative gestures we’re likely to encounter this year. Highly recommended and not to be missed.

Hanne Lippard (Milton Keynes, 1984) explores the social forms that govern discourse. Her artistic practice, which mainly takes the form of reading and sound installations, investigates the voice as an instrument of emancipation and alienation in times of hyper-connectivity. By mixing personal thoughts and appropriating texts from advertising, slogans and newspaper articles, the text becomes a mix of private and public that regains inventiveness and authorship through the use of the voice, becoming a body of its own. Her recent artistic research has focused on the use of the female body as a container of sounds, on the conscious and unconscious automation of speech and language.

Equal parts soft and sorrowful, Myriam Gendron’s stunning Not So Deep As A Well LP became something of a sleeper hit upon its initial release back in 2014. Her debut album shone a warm lamp-light glow upon a curious and captivating new voice in the Quebecois folk world.
Nearly ten years on from its release in her native Canada and America, Not So Deep As A Well gets a European release for the first time this autumn, with a new pressing on the Basin Rock label (Julie Byrne, Aoife Nessa Frances, Trevor Beales, Juni Habel) which features two tracks not included on the original release - ‘Bric-à-brac’ and ‘The Small Hours’ - both written and recorded in the early days of 2014.
Recorded alone in her apartment, with no knowledge of sound engineering, it could almost be a lost artefact, a dust-lined document of a forgotten time and place. Taking the poems of Dorothy Parker, whose work Gendron stumbled upon by chance in a Montreal bookstore, she imbues the words with a graceful, gentle expression, a lingering sense of sorrow always present.
A stark, spellbinding collection, Not So Deep As A Well is raw and unyielding in so many ways we no longer expect to hear. As if sitting in the room with her, Gendron’s voice is cracked and unadorned, quietly forced into a push and pull between

Here, gleaming tensile techno forms clean, straight lines while scratchy acoustic guitars scuff up edges to produce

ghostly audio. Poetry is snatched from the overhead, removed from the overheard; words borrowed from the ether are

spun into dizzying new shapes, sometimes reappearing in new settings, twisted back to front, side to side. Each track a

very different room - some soundtracked by little more than metronomic kick drum and robotic voice, others deep in

layer upon layer of melody and euphoric noise - and each room unmistakably, uniquely Underworld. The only advice

from Underworld’s Rick Smith and Karl Hyde upon entering: “Please don’t shuffle.”

Strawberry Hotel features the singles ‘and the colour red’ and ‘denver luna’, as well as new release ‘Black Poppies’ - a

celestial love song, a hymn to the universe and to boundless, positive change. Ambient and beatless, Black Poppies is

a celebration of full dancefloors and the beauty of life itself.

Underworld are Rick Smith and Karl Hyde. Their peerless first album - dubnobasswithmyheadman - was released to universal acclaim in 1994. In the thirty years since that mould breaking debut, the band have established their reputation as one of the most groundbreaking and important electronic acts of all time, one that constantly pushes creative boundaries, twists genres, and refuses to stay still. In those thirty years, their music has soundtracked approximately 100,000,000 nights out, and the mornings after. In the past year alone, Underworld have played live in front of over half a million people across the globe.

Joni Mitchell Gets Jazzy, Counterbalances Love and Trust with Freedom and Confusion on Court and Spark


Mobile Fidelity's UltraDisc One-Step 180g 45RPM 2LP
Plays with Definitive Detail and Clarity: Pressed on MoFi SuperVinyl Strictly Limited to 5,000 Numbered Copies
Box Set Features New Liner Notes
1/4" / 15 IPS / Dolby A analogue master to DSD 256 to analogue console to lathe


Court and Spark, the most commercially successful album of Joni Mitchell's trailblazing career, arrived after a year in which she took some time to breathe and kept a low profile. The pause led to more breakthroughs for the singer-songwriter. Marking Mitchell's increasing drift toward jazz (and affinity for Miles Davis and John Coltrane), Court and Spark garnered four Grammy nominations, earned the Best Album of the Year vote in the prestigious Pazz & Jop poll, and ranks #110 on Rolling Stone’s list of the 500 Greatest Albums of All Time.

Sourced from the original analog master tapes, pressed at Fidelity Record Pressing on MoFi SuperVinyl, strictly limited to 5,000 numbered copies, and featuring new liner notes, Mobile Fidelity's UltraDisc One-Step 180g 45RPM 2LP box set presents the 1974 classic with definitive detail, tonality, and directness. Marking the first time the revered LP has received audiophile-quality treatment, it's one of six iconic 1970s Mitchell records Mobile Fidelity is reissuing on vinyl and SACD sets.

Benefitting from a virtually nonexistent noise floor, dead-quiet surfaces, and superior groove definition, this collectible edition reproduces without compromise the textures, details, and breathtaking craftsmanship that help make Court and Spark into what many fans believe is the Canadian native’s finest hour. Notes bloom and decay as they do amid an acoustic live environment. Soundstages extend far and deep, with black backgrounds and balanced tones adding to the uncanny realism.

The reference-grade presence and openness put in transparent view Mitchell’s incisive words and unique phrasing, as well as the contributions of her prized support musicians — including Tom Scott and the L.A. Express as well as guest turns by the likes of David Crosby, Graham Nash, Jose Feliciano, and Robbie Robertson. Mitchell, experimenting with the melodic parameters of guitar and piano, is rightly found at the center of it all. The jazz-rock rhythms of drummer John Guerin, slippery guitar lines of Larry Carlton, vibrant horns and reeds laid down by Scott — crucial to the songs’ shape-shifting arrangements — can now also be heard with fresh ears.

Visually and physically, the packaging of the Court and Spark UD1S set complements its distinguished status. Housed in a deluxe slipcase, both LPs come in foil-stamped jackets with faithful graphics that illuminate the splendor of the recording. This reissue is for listeners who desire to engage themselves in everything involved with the album, including Mitchell’s “The Mountain Loves the Sea” painting — a picture of waves embracing and receding away from a mountain, a metaphor for the record’s lyrical themes — on the cover art.

Pitching deceptively light compositions against underlying tensions, Court and Spark witnesses the singer-songwriter finding her footing with a group of top-shelf musicians who seemingly understand her visions as well as expanding her lyrical palette and venturing further into territory no artist had dared explore. Mitchell’s accessibly complex structures, beat-propelled rhythms, and spirited interplay with Scott & Co. both give the music a different identity than her prior efforts and point in the directions she soon headed.

Lyrically, Court and Spark matches the wit, integrity, originality, and intellect of anything in Mitchell’s oeuvre — no small feat. Offsetting positives with negatives, and considering circumstances from multiple angles, Mitchell explores issues connected to love and freedom, certainty and confusion, and trust and fear with unfettered boldness and introspective empathy. She teeters between surrender and retreat, and spends a majority of the record sussing out the complications and sacrifices involved with such actions.

Mitchell addresses the transactional nature of desire (the intimate title track, the upbeat “Raised on Robbery,” complete with rock ‘n’ roll pep from Robertson and zesty sax from Scott); anticipation and disappointment of romance (“Car on a Hill,” “”Down to You); fame and celebrity (“A Free Man in Paris,” “People’s Parties”); and sanity (the dark and stormy “Trouble Child,” a satirical cover of Annie Ross’ “Twisted”). Throughout, she sings with an emotionally penetrating beauty and devastating honesty that teaches about ourselves.

Or, as Mitchell relays on “People’s Parties”: “Laughing and crying/You know it’s the same release.”

Limited Edition Picture Disc. Including Silver/Chrome Obi Sticker and Silver Postcard with album titles and info in English and Bengali. Housed in PVC sleeve.

ICCHĀ is an international collaboration project that originated in 2023 in Dhaka, Bangladesh. The work "Chant For Hope" was realized by Miet Warlop and created on site with local performers while Micha Volders composed the musical context. The performance acts as a monumental living sculpture, in which the physical process of casting hundreds of Bengali words in plaster becomes the driving force to create a playing field between performers, public space, and participation. Woven through this performative context are more complex relationships that explore the tension between humans and language. As the words become so visible and tangible, an image of their inner bearing and our dealings with them emerges.

The recordings of this performance have been adapted and enhanced to create an album that reflects the energy and expands upon the sound created in Dhaka. ICCHĀ is the Bengali wording of "desire," and reflects the eagerness and urgency felt within the process of this collaboration. In conjunction with the seven performers, a sonic adventure emerges that thrives on the energetic rendering of the Bangla language through transient patterns and snappy melodic figures. The album will be released on 24.05.24 as vinyl picture disc and digital, and will be available as a pre-order online and in local selected record shops.

Camelot, the legendary seat of King Arthur's court in Early Middle Ages Britain, was probably not a real place. A corruption of the name of a real Romano-Briton city, the word "Camelot" accumulated symbolic, mythic resonances over centuries, until achieving its present usage as a near-synonym of "utopia." In the mid-20th century alone, Camelot inspired an explosion of representations and appropriations, among them the violent, affectless Arthurian court of Robert Bresson's 1974 film Lancelot du Lac and the absurdist iteration of Monty Python's 1975 Holy Grail, both of which feature armored knights erupting into fountains of blood; the mystical Welsh world of novelist John Cowper Powys's profoundly weird 1951 novel Porius, with its Roman cults, wizards and witches, and wanton giants; and the nationalist nostalgia of President John F. Kennedy's White House. Unsurprisingly there are fewer Camelots in more recent memory. Camelot, Canadian songwriter Jennifer Castle's extraordinary, moving 2024 chronicle of the artist in early middle age, charts a realer, more rooted, and more metaphorical place than the fabled Camelot of the Early Middle Ages (or its myriad depictions), but it too is a space more psychic than physical. In Castle's Camelot, the fantastic interpenetrates the mundane, and the Grail, if there is one, distills everyday experience into art and art into faith, subliming terrestrial concerns into sublime celestial prayers to Mother Nature, and to the unfolding process of perfecting imperfection in one's own nature. Co-produced by Jennifer and longtime collaborator Jeff McMurrich, her seventh record is at once her most monumental and unguarded to date, demonstrating a mastery of rendering her verse and melodies alike with crisply poignant economy. For all their pointedly plainspoken lyrical detail and exhilarating full-band musical flourishes, these songs sound inevitable, eternal as morning devotions. "Back in Camelot," she sings on the lilting, vulnerable title track, "I really learned a lot / circles in the crops and / sky-high geometry." The album opens with a candid admission of sleeping "in the unfinished basement," an embarrassing joke that comes true. But the dreamer is redeemed by dreaming, setting sail in her airborne bed above "sirens and desert deities." If she questions her own agency_whether she is "wishing stones were standing" or just "pissing in the wind"_it does not diminish the ineffable existential jolt of such signs and wonders. This abiding tension between belief and doubt, magic and pragmatism, self and other, sacred and profane, and even, arguably, paganism and monotheism, suffuses these ten songs, which limn an interior landscape shot through with sunstriped shadows of "multi-felt dimensions" both mystical and quotidian. The epic scale and transport of "Camelot," with its swooning strings, gives way dramatically to "Some Friends," an acoustic-guitar-and-vocals meditation in miniature on Janus-faced friends and the lunar and solar temperatures of their promises_"bright and beaming verses" versus hot curses_which recalls her minimalist last album, 2020's achingly intimate Monarch Season. (In a symmetrical sequencing gesture, the penultimate track, the incantatory "Earthsong," bookends the central six with a similarly spare solo performance and coiled chord progression, this time an ambiguous appeal to _ a wounded lover? a wounded saint? our wounded planet?) Those whom "Trust" accuses of treacherous oaths spit through "gilded and golden tooth"_cynics, critics, hypocrites, gurus, scientists, doctors, lovers, government, the so-called entertainment industry_sow uncertainty that can infect the artist, as in "Louis": "What's that dance / and can it be done? What's that song / and can it be sung?" Answering affirmatively are "Lucky #8," an irrepressible ode to dancing as a bulwark against the "tidal pools of pain" and the "theory of collapse," and "Full Moon in Leo," which finds the narrator dancing around the house with a broom, wearing nothing but her underwear and "big hair." But the central question remains: who can we trust, and at what cost faith, in art or angels or otherwise? Castle's confidence in her collaborators is the cornerstone of Camelot. Carl Didur (piano and keys), Evan Cartwright (drums and percussion), and steadfast sideman Mike Smith (bass) comprise a rhythm section of exquisite delicacy and depth. This fundamental trio anchors the airiness of regular backing vocalists Victoria Cheong and Isla Craig and frames the guitars of Castle, McMurrich, and Paul Mortimer (and on "Lucky #8," special guest Cass McCombs). Reprising his decennial role on Castle's beloved 2014 Pink City, Owen Pallett arranged the strings for Estonia's FAMES Skopje Studio Orchestra. On the ravishing country-soul ballad "Blowing Kisses"_Pallett's crowning achievement here, which can be heard in its entirety in the penultimate episode of the third season of FX's The Bear_Jennifer contemplates time and presence, love and prayer_and how songwriting and poetry both manifest and limit all four dimensions: "No words to fumble with / I'm not a beggar to language any longer." Such rare moments of speechlessness_"I'm so fucking honoured," she bluntly proclaims_suggest a state "only a god could come up with." (If Camelot affirms Castle as one of the great song-poets of her generation, she is not immune to the despairing linguistic beggary that plagues all writers.) Camelot evinces a thoroughgoing faith not only in the natural world_including human bodies, which can, miraculously, dance and swim and bleed and embrace and birth_but also in our interpretations of and interventions in it: the "charts and diagrams" of "Lucky #8," a daydreamt billboard on Fairfax Ave. in LA in "Full Moon in Leo," the bloody invocations of the organ-stained "Mary Miracle," and all manner of water worship, rivers in particular. (Notably, Jennifer has worked as a farmer and a doula.) The album ends with "Fractal Canyon"'s repeated, exalted insistence that she's "not alone here." But where is here? The word "utopia" itself constitutes a pun, indicating in its ambiguous first syllable both the Greek "eutopia," or "good-place"_the facet most remembered today_and "outopia," or "no-place," a negative, impossible geography of the mind. Utopia, like its metonym Camelot, is imaginary. Or as fellow Canadian songwriter Neil Young once sang, "Everyone knows this is nowhere." "Can you see how I'd be tempted," Castle asks out of nowhere, held in the mystery, "to pretend I'm not alone and let the memory bend?"

. For Fans Of: The Weather Station, Weyes Blood, Adrianne Lenker, Phoebe Bridgers, Joan Shelley, Lana Del Rey, Cass McCombs, Angel Olsen & Neil Young. Camelot, the legendary seat of King Arthur’s court in Early Middle Ages Britain, was probably not a real place. A corruption of the name of a real Romano-Briton city, the word “Camelot” accumulated symbolic, mythic resonances over centuries, until achieving its present usage as a near-synonym of “utopia.” In the mid-20th century alone, Camelot inspired an explosion of representations and appropriations, among them the violent, affectless Arthurian court of Robert Bresson’s 1974 film Lancelot du Lac and the absurdist iteration of Monty Python’s 1975 Holy Grail, both of which feature armoured knights erupting into fountains of blood; the mystical Welsh world of novelist John Cowper Powys’s profoundly weird 1951 novel Porius, with its Roman cults, wizards and witches, and wanton giants; and the nationalist nostalgia of President John F. Kennedy’s White House. Unsurprisingly there are fewer Camelots in more recent memory. Camelot, Canadian songwriter Jennifer Castle’s extraordinary, moving 2024 chronicle of the artist in early middle age, charts a realer, more rooted, and more metaphorical place than the fabled Camelot of the Early Middle Ages (or its myriad depictions), but it too is a space more psychic than physical. In Castle’s Camelot, the fantastic interpenetrates the mundane, and the Grail, if there is one, distills everyday experience into art and art into faith, subliming terrestrial concerns into sublime celestial prayers to Mother Nature, and to the unfolding process of perfecting imperfection in one’s own nature. Co-produced by Jennifer and longtime collaborator Jeff McMurrich, her seventh record is at once her most monumental and unguarded to date, demonstrating a mastery of rendering her verse and melodies alike with crisply poignant economy. For all their pointedly plainspoken lyrical detail and exhilarating full-band musical flourishes, these songs sound inevitable, eternal as morning devotions. “Back in Camelot,” she sings on the lilting, vulnerable title track, “I really learned a lot / circles in the crops and / sky-high geometry.” The album opens with a candid admission of sleeping “in the unfinished basement,” an embarrassing joke that comes true. But the dreamer is redeemed by dreaming, setting sail in her airborne bed above “sirens and desert deities.” If she questions her own agency whether she is “wishing stones were standing” or just “pissing in the wind” it does not diminish the ineffable existential jolt of such signs and wonders. This abiding tension between belief and doubt, magic and pragmatism, self and other, sacred and profane, and even, arguably, paganism and monotheism, suffuses these ten songs, which limn an interior landscape shot through with sunstriped shadows of “multi-felt dimensions” both mystical and quotidian. The epic scale and transport of “Camelot,” with its swooning strings, gives way dramatically to “Some Friends,” an acoustic-guitar-and-vocals meditation in miniature on Janus-faced friends and the lunar and solar temperatures of their promises—“bright and beaming verses” versus hot curses which recalls her minimalist last album, 2020’s achingly intimate Monarch Season. (In a symmetrical sequencing gesture, the penultimate track, the incantatory “Earthsong,” bookends the central six with a similarly spare solo performance and coiled chord progression, this time an ambiguous appeal to … a wounded lover? a wounded saint? our wounded planet?). Those whom “Trust” accuses of treacherous oaths spit through “gilded and golden tooth” cynics, critics, hypocrites, gurus, scientists, doctors, lovers, government, the so-called entertainment industry sow uncertainty that can infect the artist, as in “Louis”: “What’s that dance / and can it be done? What’s that song / and can it be sung?” Answering affirmatively are “Lucky #8,” an irrepressible ode to dancing as a bulwark against the “tidal pools of pain” and the “theory of collapse,” and “Full Moon in Leo,” which finds the narrator dancing around the house with a broom, wearing nothing but her underwear and “big hair.” But the central question remains: who can we trust, and at what cost faith, in art or angels or otherwise? Castle’s confidence in her collaborators is the cornerstone of Camelot. Carl Didur (piano and keys), Evan Cartwright (drums and percussion), and steadfast sideman Mike Smith (bass) comprise a rhythm section of exquisite delicacy and depth. This fundamental trio anchors the airiness of regular backing vocalists Victoria Cheong and Isla Craig and frames the guitars of Castle, McMurrich, and Paul Mortimer (and on “Lucky #8,” special guest Cass McCombs). Reprising his decennial role on Castle’s beloved 2014 Pink City, Owen Pallett arranged the strings for Estonia’s FAMES Skopje Studio Orchestra. On the ravishing country-soul ballad “Blowing Kisses” Pallett’s crowning achievement here, which can be heard in its entirety in the penultimate episode of the third season of FX’s The Bear Jennifer contemplates time and presence, love and prayer and how songwriting and poetry both manifest and limit all four dimensions: “No words to fumble with / I’m not a beggar to language any longer.” Such rare moments of speechlessness “I’m so fucking honoured,” she bluntly proclaims suggest a state “only a god could come up with.” (If Camelot affirms Castle as one of the great song-poets of her generation, she is not immune to the despairing linguistic beggary that plagues all writers.) Camelot evinces a thoroughgoing faith not only in the natural world including human bodies, which can, miraculously, dance and swim and bleed and embrace and birth but also in our interpretations of and interventions in it: the “charts and diagrams” of “Lucky #8,” a daydreamt billboard on Fairfax Ave. in LA in “Full Moon in Leo,” the bloody invocations of the organ-stained “Mary Miracle,” and all manner of water worship, rivers in particular. (Notably, Jennifer has worked as a farmer and a doula.) The album ends with “Fractal Canyon”s repeated, exalted insistence that she’s “not alone here.” But where is here? The word “utopia” itself constitutes a pun, indicating in its ambiguous first syllable both the Greek “eutopia,” or “good-place” the facet most remembered today and “outopia,” or “no-place,” a negative, impossible geography of the mind. Utopia, like its metonym Camelot, is imaginary

After working within various collectives, rapper Davodka is celebrating his ten-year solo career with the album "Heritage." With a myriad of concerts in France and Europe, 6 solo albums, and features with the entire French independent rap scene (Demi Portion, Melan, Dooz Kawa, 3ème Œil, Swift Guad...), Davodka is known for his incisive words and the speed of his flow, making him one of the leading lyricists.

This new album is the heritage of the past ten years, where the artist takes a step back and captures the universe in which he has evolved, paying homage to it through music. The rapper's lyrics have never been more personal. He addresses rarely discussed topics in rap, such as his depression in the track "Arc en ciel," his relationship with his autistic child in "Enfant bulle," and his awareness of the difficulty in having completely selfless relationships as an artist in "On naît seul, on meurt seul."

"Heritage" attests to Davodka's undeniable place in conscious rap, notably with the track "Avec des mots," where he shares the mic with Sinik, an emblematic artist of the golden age of French rap. Although Sinik, a French artist with countless certifications, had announced the end of his career two years earlier, he makes an exception for Davodka and records a powerful track in homage to all those who come from the bottom.

Davodka, true to himself and his audience, primarily raps over boom bap and trap beats; however, he ventures into unknown territories, notably in "On naît seul, on meurt seul," where he adopts a ragga flow, and "Feuille froissée," with its auto-tuned chorus. He also takes the time to pay homage to the beginning of his career, when he was part of the MSD collective, by reprising a verse written at the time in the track "Les minots dorment – Remix."

Join him on October 25, 2024, to discover "Heritage," Davodka's 7th album. He will be touring throughout France, Switzerland, and Belgium, and in Paris at the Cabaret Sauvage on December 5, 2024, for the release party.

Nous'klaer Audio proudly presents Nicola Cruz's latest full-length album, Kinesia. On his third studio album, the Ecuadorian producer masterfully blends rich studio sessions with deep analog synthesis. Kinesia invites the listener to channel an inner voice - to pick up thoughts, words, and messages as if ancient information traveling through time has been received. This album functions as a form of 'antenna,' translating these ideas into compositions and movement. The album begins with a 5/4 rhythm structure, summoning the voice of machina into a textural atmosphere, led by Perma, Nicola's vision of an infinite breaks vortex, and sustains the tension with the meditative Telepathine, a substance fictionally associated with telepathy. Regardless of the tempo, each track is intricately laced with chants, subtle percussion, textures, and spacious details that draw you back for more. With Kinesia, Nicola Cruz continues to evolve his signature sound and takes you along for the ride. While the album is crafted for a deep, introspective journey, the kinetic influence remains ever-present on dance floors.

Psych, space, kraut and drones from songwriter Julius Lind and his trio with members from Action & Tension & Space, The Megaphonic Thrift and Gold Celeste. Arising from the Norwegian alternative scene they experiment with a vibrant mix of genres and refer to many golden eras on the history of pop and rock music! The album was recorded in Studio Paradiso with Christian Engfelt (Cato Salsa Experience) as technician and co-producer in 2023.

"The Night The Zombies Came is Pixies’ tenth album, if you count their classic 1987 4AD mini LP Come On Pilgrim, and first new music since 2022’s acclaimed Doggerel LP. 13 new songs that find Pixies looking ahead to the most cinematic record of their career. Songwriter, vocalist and guitarist Black Francis explains: “Fragments that are related and juxtaposed with other fragments in other songs. And in a collection of songs in a so-called LP, you end up making a kind of movie.” Druidism, apocalyptic shopping malls, mediaeval themed restaurants, 12th century poetic form, surf rock, gargoyles, bog people, and the distinctive dry drum sound of 1970s era Fleetwood Mac are just some of the disparate wonders that inform the new songs. For the new album recording sessions the band returned to work with producer Tom Dalgety, who drummer David Lovering refers to as “a fifth Pixie” after producing 2016’s Head Carrier, 2019’s Beneath the Eyrie and 2022’s Doggerel. Early on in the recording process at Guilford Sound studio in Vermont, the band noticed the new songs were dividing into two camps: what they came to call the “Dust Bowl Songs” - country-tinged, ballad-esque numbers such as ‘Primrose’ and ‘Mercy Me’, and on the other side, the album’s furious punk numbers such as ‘You’re So Impatient’ and ‘Oyster Beds’. Only ‘Jane (The Night the Zombies Came)’ keeps its feet in both camps — reminiscent of early 60s Phil Spector, the band hitting the sweet spot between mushy and abrasive, it’s a track that Black Francis allegedly likened to being chased by a swarm of bees.
The Night The Zombies Came sessions also saw Pixies welcoming new bass player Emma Richardson (Band Of Skulls) to the line up; the first British band member to join the group. There’s also an expanded role for guitarist Joey Santiago. After contributing his first-ever Pixies lyrics on Doggerel, for the new record Santiago wrote the words to ‘Hypnotised’ by completing a complex lyrical riddle of sorts, known as a sestina.
The Night The Zombies Came is released via BMG on CD, black vinyl"

“Friends, they are my ticket out of this place I am in… feels like nothing more than a dirt bike vacation stop between Phoenix and San Diego.” Dirt Bike Vacation—for Worried Songs Records—explores the sonic world of the late amateur guitar player, Charles ‘Poppy Bob’ Walker, through a captivating set of instrumental songs made in the mid-1980s. Recorded on a single-track, Marantz field recorder, the project is a transportive document of Walker’s days spent as a meatpacking employee in Yuma, Arizona and the dailiness of that existence: driving to work, sitting in his backyard, walking around drunkenly, unwinding on the couch with a friend. These sketches, showing an experimental tendency, are surprisingly ahead of their time; some exhibit ad hoc tape delay (“Granite Bluffs,” “Goodbye YMCA”), while others make use of primitive overdubbing (“Continuation to Moon Doctor”). Not dissimilar to works such as Bruce Langhorne’s The Hired Hand soundtrack, Walker’s guitar playing is melodic, texturally rich and beautifully sober. On a musical tour from Nashville to Los Angeles, musician-archivist, Cameron Knowler, uncovered these songs from a series of dusty cassette tapes housed at a branch of the Yuma County Library. Originally tipped off by cryptic metadata entries found through an online finding aid, Knowler requested a sound sample and was immediately drawn in by their eerie, yet hopeful nature: “I didn’t care what they sounded like at first, but once I heard just a few seconds, I had to find out everything I could about Charles, who he was, and if he was still alive.” As it turns out, the two had miraculously crossed paths over 20 years prior when Cameron was a young boy accompanying his mother, a gem trader, on a biyearly sojourn to Quartzsite, a town 80 miles north of Yuma: “Charles, sitting down and smoking in a recliner, withdrawn, held what I now understand to be a mid-1990s Martin D-28 guitar. Unlike other old-timers, his instrument was sharply tuned and had a nice sound, even to my young and uncalibrated ears. Though his left hand showed signs of highly developed arthritis, his musical ideas were animated by a palpably deep understanding of fretboard anatomy, arrangement and harmony.” Sorting through the index cards associated with these tapes, Knowler was able to gain a detailed sense of most recording’s provenance, whereabouts and time: Walker’s Datsun pickup truck chugging along boiling hot Interstate 80, the Marine Corps Air Station parking lot, the Eastern Wetlands on the banks of the Colorado River, a fishing trip to Martinez Lake. Trying to reduce the amount of his own subjectivities coloring the work, Cameron constructed titles and track sequences by borrowing information gleaned from Charles’ handwritten notes: “I tried to organize everything by time of day, giving the listener the sense of how a Yuma day might sound and feel like, and each song title—even the record itself—is borrowed from his own words.” This proved no small task, as many notecards had to be deciphered and then coupled with their native tapes which needed extensive restoration treatments. The result is a project very much out of the blue, and one that is intensely personal to Knowler, having grown up in the same town under similar circumstances. “It feels like a part of my own journey as a guitarist reckoning with the defining marks of a gothic border town,” he remarks. “At the time I would’ve met Walker, I didn’t have much outside influence, but he has been in there all the while.” In their current form, the tracks combine to create a sonic journey that boldly contributes to the traditions of acoustic guitar soli, archival digs and field recordings all the same; most importantly, it is a creative document which shows a day-in-the-life of a man grappling with the human experience under a ubiquitous Yuma sun.

The Blessed Madonna began with three magic words, scrawled in shoe polish on a broken - down box and hung on the wall at a small sweaty party: We Still Believe. “I think you have to give up completely to really understand what hope is. It was like 2011? I had spectacularly, monumentally failed. I left the label. I wasn’t DJing. I wasn’t putting out records. I was divorced and living on my Dad’s couch so naturally my friends and I decided to throw an illegal rave. We didn’t have any decorations, so I took a box and wrote, ‘We Still Believe’ on it. I needed to believe that something better was possible and that’s how it all started.” After years of $50 gigs, strung together by gas money and surfed couches, The Blessed Madonna cemented her reputation as a sublime technician behind the decks with a legacy of fluent and dynamic sets, spanning from disco to techno to house and back. One room sweatboxes, circus tents, theatres, massive festival stages and entire city blocks have all served as the canvas for her shows. After a jam packed 2023, from Glastonbury to Sonar to Boiler Room Bali, The Blessed Madonna has been filling the dance floor everywhere she goes and is now releasing her debut album.

After four tape editions on Seil Records, Sofie Birch's 2019 debut record "Planetes" is finally available on vinyl featuring new artwork and a beautiful analog remastering.

Sofie creates dream-like, elegant ambient music with an emphasis on exploration and wonder. Her distinctive organic and melodic sound is shaped by improvising with analog synthesizers, acoustic instruments, and field recordings. Repetitiveness is clinically avoided with harmonic progressions that resolve all tension brilliantly. Planetes was described as a beautiful sound universe where the atmospheric sound surfaces and textures gently and elegantly take the listener to new places all the time by Danish experimental music media Passive Aggressive.

For this record's 5th anniversary, apart from the regular vinyl edition, there are two special editions. The first one comes in translucent blue vinyl and includes a limited edition K7 inspired by 70’s yoga tapes. It contains a 20-minute guided meditation on one side and two beautiful unreleased tracks on the other. The second special edition comes in yellow vinyl and includes an inner sleeve with stickers so that you can create your own cover/ constellation for the record.

Sofie's own words about the release:

“It's a dream coming true to see my debut release Planetes coming out on vinyl for its 5th anniversary! Planetes means “a wanderer” in Greek, and I love how this word describes the wandering of celestial bodies, and how we humans wander through life both on a physical and spiritual plane. Wandering is being alive. Wandering is moving, and everything is always moving and changing. Shifting and transforming. The music was created with recordings from a pilgrim trip in Italy with my mom on a little cassette recorder and the music evolved from synth improvisations and the discovery of trusting sound as it is and creating music from immediacy rather than concept.”

Readers of encyclopedic tomes are obviously familiar with exploding animals – there are numerous reports of torn-apart toads (even in Hamburg, Germany!), actual ants exploding altruistically – but humans that decide to jointly detonate, and with no harm done, that’s rare: Kobe’s own o'summer vacation are unique (and volatile) like that, and they’re back to light the fuse for the second time, presenting 13 more musical quarter sticks that have already blown up venues in Europe and Japan.

“Keep it lean, keep it mean,” they say, and that’s what this band loves to take to the extreme: breakneck concision and collective combustion meet freeform noise punk hazards on o'summer vacation's second (not quite) full-length – as the Kobe-based three-piece’s “Electronic Eye” is set to arrive on October 11, 2024. Following a bunch of trips to Berlin, Munich etc., the Japanese fire starters have found a new home with Alien Transistor, and it’s the perfect launch pad for their latest set of guitarless pyrotechnics. Going right for max q (maximum dynamic pressure), “Electronic Eye” is (unlike those Starships) actually supposed to explode right after lift-off ;)

Even though there have been some line-up changes since the group recorded its sophomore album, the energy caught by producer Shinji Masuko (DMBQ, Boredoms) is still unmatched: a very physical and hard-knocking barrage of mosh-inducing madness that leaves you speechless + inevitably twitching towards the pit. Mastering was done by Masaki Oshima aka Watchman (Melt-Banana).

Opening with sizzling hi-hats and heavy ripples of breathless bass, singer Ami presents a non-sequitur kind of lullaby over the math rock-style interlocutions of “宿痾 (Shuku - A)” – which at 6+ minutes makes up more than a quarter of the album. A shapeshifting frenzy of voice (Ami), unbridled, pedal-powered bassline insanity (Mikkki, formerly Mikiiiii), and hot-blooded drums (Manu, meanwhile replaced by Karry), the album features mosh-inducing blows (previously released “Luna,” “Anti Christ 大体 Super Star”), 30-sec mini noise punk anthems (“竦(shou)”, “Days Go By Fast”), and continues to surf at breakneck pace up and down scales (“@ The”), which often feels like catharsis served with a hammer (“Ultra”). Whereas some tracks are bigger more song-y than others (“Song#2,” that full-throttle “Poodle”), “Vs I” is on time like Tierra Whack (exactly 60 seconds of pick-grinding action), and “Rage” indeed feels like Zack is about to join the party – only to see Ami wipe the floor with pure onomatopoetic fire. Finally, “Aloooooone” and “Humming” (that opening lilt!) are sure going to be live favorites, shifting up and down via hardcore speeds and various break-downs.

Quite hotheaded and terminating things on a high note, o'summer vacation point out that the quick-fire lyrics of their “songs have no meaning. It’s called onomatopoeia in English. Ami, our vocalist, does not like to communicate her thoughts through her music.” Although she considers her contribution “a part of the instrumentation,” they still have strong messages and concerns (unrest, discontent, willingness to shake, wake up, enliven anyone near the audible bomb crater): “That doesn’t mean we don’t have a point of view, but we choose to express ourselves through sound rather than words. Generally, but not exclusively, we are anti-racism, anti-war, gender-free, angry at the companies we work for and their bosses, etc., which are very common sentiments held by so-called rock bands.”

It’s only three ingredients, just like sonic gunpowder: bass, drums, voice – but they tend to explode a few bars into each new track. In a perfect world, there’d be giant colorful clouds of dust gracing the sky over each venue they descend upon.

This tape contains a recording of a live of NPLGNN recorded at Human Razzmatazz (Barcelona) on March 2023.Everything you hear it comes from two Korg Electribe EMX1 +Pioneer DJM900 NXS + Traktor.

To describe the sound it makes sense to bring back what was thepress release of “Sigma/Tau” the first record of NPLGNN releasedin 2014 on Where To Now? (RIP): “NPLGNN creates a less pampered style of body music, stripping away the usual signifiers such as melodies and basslines to create something more utilitarian, brutal and pure.

This is the pre-babel language of dance music - it's cadences are rhythmic and its meaning is comprehensible to all on an innate, primal level.”Ten years later this tape makes those words still remarkable to describe the sound of the Neapolitan head. Among a bunch of unreleased sounds you can go through all the NPLGNN recent records for LavaLava, Youth, Hundebiss and its own lathe cuts series dubbed here and there with vocal cuts intersections.

Coming off like the rude son of early ‘00s breakcore heroes, quotingthe Manchester Boomy heads, NPLGNN delivers a 45 mins mutant soundsystem recording. It's acid dancehall punk, amorphed ragga riddimz, or whatever you want to call it. 100% dancefloor melting .Ask Aphex Twin for a couple of IDs

Amputechture Beneath the technical flash, the fury, the fearless creative brinkmanship of the first two Mars Volta albums lay a potent seam of the blues, an existential vexation that powered every twist and turn of Omar and Cedric’s imaginations. That mournful vibe would come to the surface of the group’s third full-length Amputechture, a simmering/blistering set that was unquestionably the group’s darkest yet. There was no overarching theme here, no interlinking concept binding the songs together, though Cedric concedes that, lyrically, the album was influenced “by a lot of stuff I was going through, a really bad break-up and a lot of other crazy stuff, and trying to put that feeling into the record.” But Amputechture – its name another of the late Jeremy Michael Ward’s invented words – was no downbeat bummer. Opener Vicarious Atonement might’ve been a deliciously gloomy, slow-burning thing, capturing Cedric in delirious duet with Omar’s swooning guitar lines, accompanied by squalling saxophone by Adrian Terrazas-Gonzales and dream-frequency fuckery by the group’s new sonic manipulator, former At The Drive- In member Paul Hinojos. But second track Tetragrammaton swiftly set pulses racing, an epic-in-miniature and containing more ideas within its 16 minutes than most bands manage over an entire career, its proggy, complex guitar figures tessellating in infinite configurations and converging as if conforming to mathematical formulae from another reality. The raw material Amputechture was hewn from started life on the road. Omar now travelled with his own mobile recording studio – a little Neve ten-channel tape recorder and an array of microphones – and was able to work on new ideas on tourbuses, in hotel rooms and during soundcheck (and, occasionally, after the show was done). After touring for Frances The Mute was complete, Omar relocated to Amsterdam, staying with his photographer friend Danielle Van Ark and her partner, Nils Post. It’s here that he demoed Amputechture, flying in engineer Jon DeBaun, drummer Jon Theodore and his brother, Chino, to work on these raw sketches. He later returned to Los Angeles, where the album was finally recorded. Omar ceded guitar duties to his dear friend and kindred spirit John Frusciante, instead assuming the role of musical director. “I wanted to hear the sound of the band,” he says. “I thought, I’ll be able to sit at the console, feel the air of the speakers moving, the unified sound of everything, and not feel distant from it. It was fun, but it was also challenging.” Part of Omar’s new method was to teach the musicians their parts only moments before the tapes rolled. “To keep things fresh, and to keep everyone on edge,” he says, before chuckling. “No, not on edge – on their toes. Amputechture would prove The Mars Volta’s most diverse set yet, drawing into the group’s tornado of influences moments of fiery jazz spirituality and esoteric folk introspection, finding space for passages of devastating subtlety and also their most fierce and full-on moments to date. The aforementioned Vicarious Atonement found its meditative mood echoed by Asilos Magdalena, an intimate, acoustic piece that invoked traditional Latin folk music, as Cedric sang in Spanish a sorrowful tale of a lost soul’s quest for sanctuary within a Magdalen Asylum, a refuge set up by the Catholic church for “fallen women”. The shadowy, sinister closer El Ciervo Vulnerado, meanwhile, tapped into the darker side of spiritual jazz to further explore the album’s themes of redemption and religious myth and magick. Elsewhere, the interplay between guitar and clarinet on Viscera Eyes created complex, unsettling counter-melodies, while the coiling, ornate Meccamputechture – Cedric’s wild fusion of sacred texts, occultism and dystopian science fiction – proved a great showcase for Ikey Owens’ swarming, infernal organ runs, in concert with Frusciante’s arcane guitar-play. But it was Day Of The Baphomets that would prove Amputechture’s most ambitious and most defining epic. Cedric’s lyrics tore into the hypocrisy of religious cant and myths of sin and punishment. “I wanted to make a song that was like the movie The Believers, where this cabal stole kids and did some occult shit with them,” he explains. “But I wanted it to be like, ‘What if the people you hire to do jobs you don’t wanna do rise up one day and then pull some shit like that?’ Like it was the guerrilla warfare, them taking over – wouldn’t that be some fucked up shit? And the music just lent itself to that – the big intro, the bass solo, and all of the ruckus that occurs.” That ruckus was some of the most thrilling Mars Volta music yet, as Omar directed his musicians to rumble through fiery modes of wild tribal groove, ransack-the-palaces riot- rock and supreme progressive experimentalism. Amputechture, then, is the sound of The Mars Volta in imperial mode: fearless, insatiable, unstoppable.

A1 - Consensus Reality
JLM opens another stellar EP for Spatial with Consensus Reality, acheery, optimistic track which opens with lush keys, and filtered breaks. Soon we are treated to long synths brimming with optimism while melodies are formed from a slew of elements entangled in joyous harmony. This is a special track before we even mention the amazingly crisp apache breaks which are introduced and toyed with to the conclusion in JLM's inimitable style.

A2 - Salva Veritate
An eerie vibe immediately grips the listener for a remarkably intense atmospheric journey in the shape of Salva Veritate. Whooshing, reverberating synths punctuate a dense soundscape laced with tensionand intrigue. The hefty Hot Pants breaks drive the track perfectly with atuneful 808 rumbling below, as blippy sub-melodies and keys add further texture to the mix to complete an immensely memorable production from JLM.

AA1 - Hotspot
Mellow keys with a hint of jazz open Hotspot, as JLM adds further flex tohis repertoire in another impressively detailed journey through sumptuous atmospherics. The track quickly bursts into life in full flow with chunky breaks driven by juddering snares nestling over smooth 808 basslines andswathes of strings & pads that swoop across the mix to create a dreamy paradox of lively calm.

AA2 - Nova
A soothing way to close the EP as JLM opens Nova with long, relaxing synthwork before the delicate beat patterns begin with a symphony offiltered effects and soft notes punctuating the soundscape. Extended reverse cymbals and subtly used reverberating vocal samples add textureto proceedings as the cosmic breaks flow, as we have become accustomed to from JLM's exceptional output on Spatial.
Words by Chris Hayes (Spatial / Red Mist)

Two seminal 12" mixes of a pair of enormous tracks from Surface. Housed in the super-rare and - until now - French-only picture sleeve of the eternal "Falling In Love", we've backed that classic with Be With's favourite deconstructed mix of the swirling electronic soul / synth-driven slow jam "Happy". These sought-after versions have never been paired on the same record before. This fresh Be With edition ensures these legendary tracks now sound, looks and feel as sensational as they deserve to. You know what to do...

American post-disco/R&B trio Surface were a New Jersey vocal group made up of Bernard Jackson, David Townsend and David Conley. The majesty of boogie ballad "Falling In Love" was their first single, released in 1983 on Salsoul Records. The mellow magic of this track is loved the world over; it's a feel-good smooth boogie jam that's forever coveted. The slick, crystal clear beat, the legendary minimoog bassline, the melody, Karen Copeland's superb vocal, the great flute solo (referenced on the cover) all of it is literally perfect and beautifully encapsulates that mid 80s international club vibe. This here is the original Shep Pettibone mix in its entirety - it's the only one you really need.

Flip for the legendary "Love Mix" of 1987 hit single “Happy". You all know the original. At least, you *should* all know it. But the "Love Mix" is a deconstructed, boldly produced mix which is the one the heads have turned to for so long. Yet, in our opinion, its hypnotic groove has flown under the radar for too many years. This killer remix begins with Jackson's spine-tingling isolated vocal, cleverly subverting expectations by actually delivering the first words of the original's second verse "You must be Heaven sent...Sent into my life...And I compliment you baby...Baby" before a heavy 808 drum kicks hard with echoey handclaps. It's super sparse and a dubbed out slow-mo boogie banger like no other. The synth bass, atmospheric synth pads and synthesized flute glide in and out with effortless style and the whole thing is a wonder to behold.

It's a slow jam, for sure, but crafted in the straight up funk tradition, using the digital tools of the day and this sparser than sparse version almost sounds like a precursor to UK Street Soul. A unique combination of undeniable funk, electro beats and an earnest, youthful tenor; it should be slamming out of every jeep forevermore.

Simon Francis remastered the original audio for both tracks and Cicely Balston's precise cut for Alchemy at AIR Studios ensures this 12" well and truly slaps. The immaculate Record Industry pressing will ensure this incredibly sought-after treasure finds a home in many more collections, this and every year. Simply flawless.

"They are the Finnish / Dutch / British troupe NIGHTWISH – one of the most fascinating rock bands of the last decades, whose enigmatic paths have proceeded from acoustic passages to symphonic heavy metal and from catchy folk to progressive majesty. If there is one trait the band has year after year, it might be this: expect something familiar but also expect the unexpected. NIGHTWISH has indeed broken all kinds of boundaries – never deliberately, but perfectly naturally.
Now guess what? NIGHTWISH's new studio album ""Yesterwynde"" – the band's tenth overall – is no exception to the rule. But it is more...

“""Yesterwynde"" took more time to make than any previous NIGHTWISH album”, nods keyboardist Tuomas Holopainen, who once again envisioned most of the material. ""The new album was intensively worked on for 3,5 years. My ambition and piety really skyrocketed, and I just couldn't let go of the creative process – and didn't want to. Along the way, ""Yesterwynde"" became both an exhilarating obsession and a comforting haven for me. All aspects of the making – compositions, lyrics, arrangements, cover art, videos, mixing and so on – were given more attention than ever before.""
The result? There's a fascinating, but inexplicable feeling that NIGHTWISH has once again been able to find unprecedented nuances, spices and perspectives in their new works – exactly: after a career of nine classic albums. """"Yesterwynde"" is an experience that takes time to digest. The gravid ingredients of the songs are easily recognizable, but beneath the surface lies a large number of intriguing details and features"", Holopainen describes.

""It's interesting – but not surprising – that ""Yesterwynde"" has attracted quite a variety of opinions. Some have stated that it is the most 'band' record to date. For some it appears to be the heaviest and most ominous NIGHTWISH release. It has also been called our most progressive album. And the list goes on.""
And what does Tuomas think of it himself?
""To me, ""Yesterwynde"" sounds, tastes and feels strongly like the true essence of NIGHTWISH – enriched with new moods and flavors.""

The lyrics of ""Yesterwynde"" deal with large-sized universal themes: memories, mortality, humanism, time and much more. ""The new album is the conclusion of the trilogy – textually it follows in the footsteps of its predecessors ""Endless Forms Most Beautiful"" and ""Human. :II: Nature."""", Holopainen says. ""At the same time, ""Yesterwynde"" is the band's most lyrically driven album: our music has never been so 'married' to the lyrics. So here's a tip: if something in the composition puzzles you, the words might clear it up.""
""For me, one of the key lines is 'we are because of a million loves' – taken from the song ""Perfume of the Timeless"". Each of us is part of an unbroken chain that stretches back billions of years. If even one of your ancestors had died too young – mauled by a cave bear, for example – during this incredibly long period of time, you would never have been born. In other words: our existence is such an unfathomable privilege!”

What does the term 'yesterwynde' mean?
""It describes a feeling that cannot be found in any human language. That's why we had to invent a whole new word. The album is supposed to open that feeling to the listener.""
Without taking anything away from the solid delivery of guitarist Emppu Vuorinen, drummer Kai Hahto, bassist Jukka Koskinen and multi-instrumentalist/singer Troy Donockley, it might be worth highlighting one fact: the performance of the eloquent storyteller Floor Jansen is once again unparalleled. It is simply breathtaking how the singer is able to make songs fly with her performance. ""Floor's second child was born just over a month ago, and we hadn't rehearsed together at all... So it was a little nerve-wracking to go to Floor's home studio for vocal recordings. Well, what happened? We had booked twelve working days and after six days everything was completed in style. Floor's preparedness for the sessions was something extreme!""

After the recordings and mixing process, there was one more working phase. Mastering. Could you possibly guess that no shortcuts were taken at this point either?
""The album was mastered seven times until we reached the finish line – one hundred percent satisfied!"", states Tuomas. ""When the record was eventually finished, a three-year, extremely inspiring adventure had come to an end. I felt very, very happy.""
NIGHTWISH's next steps are clear. And they are not the most common ones.
""NIGHTWISH will not go on a world tour this time. This was a decision made for personal reasons. But don't worry... Our contract with Nuclear Blast Records includes several albums, and there's plenty of motivation to create new music!""
May the dream continue...
"

"They are the Finnish / Dutch / British troupe NIGHTWISH – one of the most fascinating rock bands of the last decades, whose enigmatic paths have proceeded from acoustic passages to symphonic heavy metal and from catchy folk to progressive majesty. If there is one trait the band has year after year, it might be this: expect something familiar but also expect the unexpected. NIGHTWISH has indeed broken all kinds of boundaries – never deliberately, but perfectly naturally.
Now guess what? NIGHTWISH's new studio album ""Yesterwynde"" – the band's tenth overall – is no exception to the rule. But it is more...

“""Yesterwynde"" took more time to make than any previous NIGHTWISH album”, nods keyboardist Tuomas Holopainen, who once again envisioned most of the material. ""The new album was intensively worked on for 3,5 years. My ambition and piety really skyrocketed, and I just couldn't let go of the creative process – and didn't want to. Along the way, ""Yesterwynde"" became both an exhilarating obsession and a comforting haven for me. All aspects of the making – compositions, lyrics, arrangements, cover art, videos, mixing and so on – were given more attention than ever before.""
The result? There's a fascinating, but inexplicable feeling that NIGHTWISH has once again been able to find unprecedented nuances, spices and perspectives in their new works – exactly: after a career of nine classic albums. """"Yesterwynde"" is an experience that takes time to digest. The gravid ingredients of the songs are easily recognizable, but beneath the surface lies a large number of intriguing details and features"", Holopainen describes.

""It's interesting – but not surprising – that ""Yesterwynde"" has attracted quite a variety of opinions. Some have stated that it is the most 'band' record to date. For some it appears to be the heaviest and most ominous NIGHTWISH release. It has also been called our most progressive album. And the list goes on.""
And what does Tuomas think of it himself?
""To me, ""Yesterwynde"" sounds, tastes and feels strongly like the true essence of NIGHTWISH – enriched with new moods and flavors.""

The lyrics of ""Yesterwynde"" deal with large-sized universal themes: memories, mortality, humanism, time and much more. ""The new album is the conclusion of the trilogy – textually it follows in the footsteps of its predecessors ""Endless Forms Most Beautiful"" and ""Human. :II: Nature."""", Holopainen says. ""At the same time, ""Yesterwynde"" is the band's most lyrically driven album: our music has never been so 'married' to the lyrics. So here's a tip: if something in the composition puzzles you, the words might clear it up.""
""For me, one of the key lines is 'we are because of a million loves' – taken from the song ""Perfume of the Timeless"". Each of us is part of an unbroken chain that stretches back billions of years. If even one of your ancestors had died too young – mauled by a cave bear, for example – during this incredibly long period of time, you would never have been born. In other words: our existence is such an unfathomable privilege!”

What does the term 'yesterwynde' mean?
""It describes a feeling that cannot be found in any human language. That's why we had to invent a whole new word. The album is supposed to open that feeling to the listener.""
Without taking anything away from the solid delivery of guitarist Emppu Vuorinen, drummer Kai Hahto, bassist Jukka Koskinen and multi-instrumentalist/singer Troy Donockley, it might be worth highlighting one fact: the performance of the eloquent storyteller Floor Jansen is once again unparalleled. It is simply breathtaking how the singer is able to make songs fly with her performance. ""Floor's second child was born just over a month ago, and we hadn't rehearsed together at all... So it was a little nerve-wracking to go to Floor's home studio for vocal recordings. Well, what happened? We had booked twelve working days and after six days everything was completed in style. Floor's preparedness for the sessions was something extreme!""

After the recordings and mixing process, there was one more working phase. Mastering. Could you possibly guess that no shortcuts were taken at this point either?
""The album was mastered seven times until we reached the finish line – one hundred percent satisfied!"", states Tuomas. ""When the record was eventually finished, a three-year, extremely inspiring adventure had come to an end. I felt very, very happy.""
NIGHTWISH's next steps are clear. And they are not the most common ones.
""NIGHTWISH will not go on a world tour this time. This was a decision made for personal reasons. But don't worry... Our contract with Nuclear Blast Records includes several albums, and there's plenty of motivation to create new music!""
May the dream continue...
"

Tip!

Polido has been fantasizing with the idea of free music throughout his artistic career. Free from restraints, logos, musical genres, but also from this modern obsession with narratives, plans, business plans, algorithms and bubble wrapped ideas for comfort of those of you that can’t breathe without everything making sense.
“Hearing Smoke” has nothing of that. It has been four years since Holuzam released the double album “A Casa e os Cães / Sabor a Terra” and for four years I have been daydreaming about what would come next. This is it, eleven new pieces about the future of the future of music. It is the result of years of study, research and sound consolidation. Sound as matter, mutating, transforming, absorbing all around, a shapeshifting entity connecting with the principles of freedom.

"Polido has been researching Portuguese contemporary composition, its very own sounds and ideas. Its origins, the web of repression, tension and censorship before the April 25th revolution in 1974; secondly, as an afterthought, freedom, equality and a unique sense of community and belonging screaming through the music. He absorbed those states of mind and made an album that listens to the current world and presents globalization as a mental trap.
If the music that inspired him somehow comes from a post-colonial world, “Hearing Smoke” questions how we can create something new in this permanent state of cultural colonization, where new trends or forms of music only thrive if they are accepted by the dominant cultures. The physical world has been transformed, but ideas like “world music” or “ghetto music” still show that dominance, the Strange can only be accepted if it incorporates the rules and codes of that dominant force. What I am saying is that it is hard for Portuguese musicians to present themselves as original. They will never have that credit unless the music relates to something that exists in another

realm. Never for their benefit, but for the power of association. I may sound arrogant here, but Polido is unique, original, one of a kind (all those words, all those redundant synonyms). I knew it four years ago when I got lost in the way “A Casa e os Cães” is assembled and how he makes something memorable out of the most commonplace conversations. “Hearing Smoke” continues the flow and puts us in the centre of these ever evolving masses of sound.
Somehow his music finds you, it starts speaking with you until it asks you to be a part of it. Polido’s beats and harmonics are combined in such a tender way that you mellow out while listening to these beats - thinking of the brilliant “Saque”. Even when he exposes you to something more harsh - “Canto D’Amorte” or the closing moments of the last track “Custa A Crer” - there’s still a cradle effect.
But what keeps me returning to this album is how it seems to transform in my ears. Not every time I listen to it, but while I am listening to it. The sound seems to move, embracing me and controlling my inner thoughts. These start to move along at the same pace, with the same feeling of cloudiness. Nothing new here, the thing is how it feels different from time to time, how the music, because of something that changes or moves, comes as a catharsis/revelation. It drives me nuts how the beats come and go in tracks like “Fogo Firme (Encomendação)” or “The More I Think, The Less I Can Speak“, leaving everything suspended and, simultaneously, relieved. When dramatic - ”Prova De Existência“ - it is sad af and gorgeously epic.

Trap, bass music, dubstep, ambient, hauntology and contemporary music flow side by side here, no pushing around, free of interpretation, and you are free to feel or listen to whatever you want in “Hearing Smoke”. That’s free music for you. Not a hard concept, something for you to enjoy, feel, reflect about. This is what the future will sound like."

André Santos // Holuzam