Search:the answer

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

Bonus 7”
A. Rincón de Luna (2.55)*
B. Voices (2.34)*

Singer/Songwriter Juliet Lawson’s album, ‘Boo’, was released on the Sovereign label in the UK in 1972. The album was the confident debut of a young British artist and featured twelve of Lawson’s own compositions.

In the same wave of early 1970s English singer-songwriters such as Nick Drake, Vashti Bunyan, Christine McVie and despite being described at the time as ‘Britain’s answer to Joni Mitchell’ ‘Boo’ was to prove her only major label release with limited commercial success.
Over the next 50 years the album’s reputation has slowly grown and is today an expensive and collectible item. ‘Boo’ is presented here in its entirety.

The first pressing of the vinyl edition of the album also come with a bonus 7-inch single featuring two early demo tracks produced by ex-Yardbirds founder Paul Samwell-Smith, who also produced Carly Simon and Cat Stevens. Special Limited-Edition Album with bonus 7” Single + Download Code.

Includes interview with Juliet Lawson and exclusive photography.

Bobbi Lu is the moniker of Lucy Ryan, born and raised in Oxfordshire in the UK, now living in Bruges after following love a few years ago. As a DIY bedroom producer, she’s released a handful of singles and is now ready with a debut album – ‘Arrow, Four’ – that will be out on 25 October. Drawing inspiration from acts like Radiohead, FKA Twigs, Jockstrap and Saya Grey, Bobbi Lu intertwines piano melodies with deep crunchy bass, electronica and samples, coming together in a dystopian and mysterious sound. As Ryan started gigging, she quickly attracted attention and went from supporting acts like The Haunted Youth and Sylvie Kreusch to playing her own headline shows and amazing festivals like The Great Escape (UK).

‘Arrow, Four’ is a collection of ten songs, written over the course of a few years, the process of each one completely different. “I guess the individual tracks have their own story, but in my head each story is just a symptom of a bigger theme, mostly inspired by the book Future Shock by Alvin Toffler. In it he talks about people’s ability to adapt having essentially a limit, and with growth accelerating could we be overloaded and experience a 'future shock'. And maybe that’s already happening, most notably in the form of mental health struggles.” “It made me think of how progression creates new challenges, an arrow going one way is pulled back by another in the opposite direction. I feel like it’s a topic more relevant than ever, especially with AI most recently. I think I use this topic to fuel my lyrics mainly as a way of forgiving myself and others, in those moments where we struggle and make mistakes, that we're all just doing our best in trying to keep up with a rapidly changing environment.” This is also reflected in the artwork by Maarten Derous. “It ties everything together. He came to me after listening to it and said something that came out for him was fragility, which at the time I completely did not think of. But he nailed it. It’s like, yes do it, be fragile and take it easy, it’s a pretty good answer to stuff being pulled in all directions.”

Limited LEMON Vinyl Edition

The new Wolfed EP sits in the Grumpy discography as their most confident and self-flourished work to date. Delivered in the serene clarity of a vulnerable voice inviting you to share in their world, the record glitters in its yearning for another, in its most jubilant highs and successes, and its most intimate internal monologues. We fall and hit the wrong notes, say the wrong thing. But we do it for love. For Grumpy, those missteps are not avoidable speed bumps in a relationship, but the highlights of the journey itself. For in those painful moments of a relationship, we find Truth about ourselves. There is simple serenity found in realizing your imperfections the hard way. But we can't get too comfortable_ as Wolfed fades out, the jittering, chopped-up melodies leave you on edge in a delicate balance of mistrust and unease. Can we hold on to this love forever? Grumpy has the answer.

Andrew Choi doesn’t claim to have all of the answers when it comes to talking about work in America. But if anyone is uniquely well positioned to raise questions, it’s him. Over the course of two decades, the Midwest-born, New York-based singer-songwriter—who performs under the name St. Lenox—has been a musician, a clothing store employee, an underpaid graduate student and scholar, and a salaried corporate attorney. This tremendous amount of experience is channeled into Andrew’s latest album.

She's In Parties ist ein englisches Quartett aus Colchester (benannt nach dem kultigen Bauhaus-Track), dessen eigenwillige Mischung aus Shoegaze und Dream-Pop ihr relativ junges Alter verrät. Die neue EP "Puppet Show" ist ihr bisher politischstes und lyrisch reifstes Statement. Es behandelt die Sorgen nach dem Erwachsenwerden und die existentielle Erkenntnis über die Probleme dieser Welt, von den sozialen Medien bis zu Kriegen und der persönlichen Angst, all dem hilflos ausgeliefert zu sein.

- "Colchester’s new answer to hazy shoegaze heroes Cocteau Twins." – NME

- "Melding shoegaze-y pop and dazzling indie licks, their wall of sound is simply irresistible." - DORK

- "All dreamy, reverbed atmospherics and interlocking textures... A real find." - Sunday Times Culture

Slow paced drums with offbeats softly phased with the guitar, misty takeoffs from the synthesizer: a hazy idyll is starting off on the road to the rocket festival (bun bang fai). Answering each other on the responsive mode of the lam soeng, Sothipong engages in a flirt but Oulay Vanh is not ready to trifle with just anybody.

As a stylistic variation of a popular Lao musical genre, the lam soeng was the source of several themes among which the “bang fai” - which is part of the Lao conciliatory festivities preceding the rainy season - remains one of the most renowned.

However, the producer and composer of these songs, Sothy, created an unusual arrangement: the instrumental introduction separates from the sang canon, the synthetic mix is stripped down of the traditional organology - everything here becomes unsettling for a listener familiar with the genre.

Everything comes with a reason: the record was edited in 1981 under the title Sothy Productions yet produced in France by the Parisian label Oxygène (famously known for its unforgettable first French punk compilation 125 grammes de 33 1/3 tours). Chansons Laotiennes still remains hard to classify.

And then who’s Sothy? Along with the unverifiable identity of the seemingly Laotian singers, skepticism gains ground concerning the man behind the pseudonym. Is he an escaped musician from one of the first Cambodian rock bands of the 1960s? A surviving producer from the 1980s Paris? Or a composer in transit in one of the many places of the Laotian diaspora? Sothy eludes any researches and disappears behind his numerous homonyms.

The second track is just as enigmatic: a beat box, a lightly reverberated voice as well as a guitar solo and a small synthesizer break, “Tuei” or “Tawai” offering (as the writing on the record suggests) makes way to dancing step and a truly joyful melody. Twisted and lively steps on a romantic background tune turn this second track into a genuine paslop - a program recommended by therapists to relieve muscular pains due to seated positions: you will unlock your pelvis with some synchronized Laotian choreographies.

For their first edits, Akuphone called on a young Parisian producer. Shelter, aka Alan Briand, mingles his own mixes and electro productions with a large variety of influences and styles: krautrock, disco, traditional music, psychedelic, synth pop, ambient, bossa nova, Japanese funk. He produces both original compositions and remix.

“Do you still believe it?” John Ross asks that question after journeying through the wreckage. The genesis of Dulling The Horns goes back to late 2022, when Ross began workshopping new material during soundcheck on the ILYSM tour. Last summer, Wild Pink decamped to western Massachusetts to reunite with engineer Justin Pizzoferrato. Ross decided to record Dulling The Horns live in the room, in an effort to capture Wild Pink’s onstage style — rawer, grainier. Gone are the glimmering atmospherics and studio affectations of recent Wild Pink outings. Instead, Ross’ voice is haggard against the humid distortion coating every song. “I wanted to make economical songs,” Ross explains. “Music that is very much at its core three or four people rocking.” If before, Wild Pink took notes from Springsteen and Petty, they’ve now entered their Crazy Horse era. On Dulling The Horns, you can hear him rediscovering the fire in real time. Tropes discarded along the roadside, songs pulled from the formative DNA of rock music, all filtered through years of messy fog. “There is no answer to these problems,” Ross says, having eventually yielded. But as far Dulling The Horns is concerned, there’s at least one path forward: Burn it all away, and keep moving. The album was mixed by Alex Farrar in Asheville NC, mastered by Greg Obis in Chicago, IL and is out in October on Fire Talk.

“Do you still believe it?” John Ross asks that question after journeying through the wreckage. The genesis of Dulling The Horns goes back to late 2022, when Ross began workshopping new material during soundcheck on the ILYSM tour. Last summer, Wild Pink decamped to western Massachusetts to reunite with engineer Justin Pizzoferrato. Ross decided to record Dulling The Horns live in the room, in an effort to capture Wild Pink’s onstage style — rawer, grainier. Gone are the glimmering atmospherics and studio affectations of recent Wild Pink outings. Instead, Ross’ voice is haggard against the humid distortion coating every song. “I wanted to make economical songs,” Ross explains. “Music that is very much at its core three or four people rocking.” If before, Wild Pink took notes from Springsteen and Petty, they’ve now entered their Crazy Horse era. On Dulling The Horns, you can hear him rediscovering the fire in real time. Tropes discarded along the roadside, songs pulled from the formative DNA of rock music, all filtered through years of messy fog. “There is no answer to these problems,” Ross says, having eventually yielded. But as far Dulling The Horns is concerned, there’s at least one path forward: Burn it all away, and keep moving. The album was mixed by Alex Farrar in Asheville NC, mastered by Greg Obis in Chicago, IL and is out in October on Fire Talk.

Hugo Race (Dirtmusic, Fatalists, ex-Bad Seeds) and Michelangelo Russo (True Spirit), fuse rock, blues, ambient and electronic sounds on their raw, compelling new album "100 Years".
In 2017, the duo released John Lee Hooker's World Today (Glitterhouse/Gusstaff Records), a tribute to the blues legend's delta blues legacy reinvented in a swirling mix of analog grit and deep trance pulses.

100 Years showcases the duo's sonic chemistry against Race's stark songwriting. Inspired by the raw majesty of early blues recordings, the album was recorded in two days in a non-stop live Hugo Race & Michelangelo Russo - 100 Years session. Amplified harmonica, open-tuned guitars, smoky vocals and primal foot beat walk us through a landscape of dreamlike devastation, a hypnotic wall of sound suspended in time and space celebrating endurance and redemption, hand-made from ancient roots. "Tradition does not mean passing the ashes, but the fire."

100 Years. Recorded November 1 & 2, 2023.
Engineered by Andrew 'Idge' Hehir at Soundpark Studios, Melbourne.
Mastered by Giovanni Versari at La Maesta, Milano.
Published by Peermusic.

PRESS about former album:
Rock'n'Roll Monuments, Greece:
"Race and Russo's pioneering electronic atmospheres give the historical Blues something you never imagined possible."

Rolling Stone, Germany: 'Dark Eros and transcendental blues…'
Musikreviews.de, Germany: "A psychedelic ghost blues of a profound sort, a mature, sensitive interpretation of the music and lyrics of John Lee Hooker. (Race and Russo) have blown us away in slow motion, economically instrumented and with painfully beautiful intensity. "

Q, London: "A darkly singular experience then, and one of the best records (Race) has ever made..."

The Music, Australia: "A collection of bluesy, brooding songs from a talented singer-songwriter with three decades of musicianship under his belt."

Eclipsed, Germany: "Hypnotic rhythms and haunting guitars, this album tingles under your skin..."
Focus Kultur, Germany: "No one else makes music like this, and that in itself is an achievement..."

Rock and Folk, Paris: 'This traveler without borders advances through a menacing atmosphere of no-wave electro-acoustics. Here is the spirit, and he does not forget
the body and the soul ... '
Tom Tom Rock, Italy: "An almost epic attack, worthy of the soundtrack of an apocalyptic post-nuclear catastrophe film… a talking blues of the third millennium, filtered by years of psychedelia and industrial music - and the Berlin years of Hugo Race can certainly be felt - hypnotic and dark, but precisely for this reason enveloping and fascinating. A record in which the music of the legendary bluesman is completely transfigured, without, however, the fidelity to his "spirit" and his "message" being questioned in the slightest. In short, JLH is alive and fighting with us, if we find the strength to follow him."

Hugo Race (Dirtmusic, Fatalists, ex-Bad Seeds) and Michelangelo Russo (True Spirit), fuse rock, blues, ambient and electronic sounds on their raw, compelling new album "100 Years".
In 2017, the duo released John Lee Hooker's World Today (Glitterhouse/Gusstaff Records), a tribute to the blues legend's delta blues legacy reinvented in a swirling mix of analog grit and deep trance pulses.

100 Years showcases the duo's sonic chemistry against Race's stark songwriting. Inspired by the raw majesty of early blues recordings, the album was recorded in two days in a non-stop live Hugo Race & Michelangelo Russo - 100 Years session. Amplified harmonica, open-tuned guitars, smoky vocals and primal foot beat walk us through a landscape of dreamlike devastation, a hypnotic wall of sound suspended in time and space celebrating endurance and redemption, hand-made from ancient roots. "Tradition does not mean passing the ashes, but the fire."

100 Years. Recorded November 1 & 2, 2023.
Engineered by Andrew 'Idge' Hehir at Soundpark Studios, Melbourne.
Mastered by Giovanni Versari at La Maesta, Milano.
Published by Peermusic.

PRESS about former album:
Rock'n'Roll Monuments, Greece:
"Race and Russo's pioneering electronic atmospheres give the historical Blues something you never imagined possible."

Rolling Stone, Germany: 'Dark Eros and transcendental blues…'
Musikreviews.de, Germany: "A psychedelic ghost blues of a profound sort, a mature, sensitive interpretation of the music and lyrics of John Lee Hooker. (Race and Russo) have blown us away in slow motion, economically instrumented and with painfully beautiful intensity. "

Q, London: "A darkly singular experience then, and one of the best records (Race) has ever made..."

The Music, Australia: "A collection of bluesy, brooding songs from a talented singer-songwriter with three decades of musicianship under his belt."

Eclipsed, Germany: "Hypnotic rhythms and haunting guitars, this album tingles under your skin..."
Focus Kultur, Germany: "No one else makes music like this, and that in itself is an achievement..."

Rock and Folk, Paris: 'This traveler without borders advances through a menacing atmosphere of no-wave electro-acoustics. Here is the spirit, and he does not forget
the body and the soul ... '
Tom Tom Rock, Italy: "An almost epic attack, worthy of the soundtrack of an apocalyptic post-nuclear catastrophe film… a talking blues of the third millennium, filtered by years of psychedelia and industrial music - and the Berlin years of Hugo Race can certainly be felt - hypnotic and dark, but precisely for this reason enveloping and fascinating. A record in which the music of the legendary bluesman is completely transfigured, without, however, the fidelity to his "spirit" and his "message" being questioned in the slightest. In short, JLH is alive and fighting with us, if we find the strength to follow him."

Her tracks have been played and recommended by Iggy Pop, Mary Anne Hobbs and Nine Inch Nails. ZAMILSKA, one of the most original artists on the European electronic scene, announces a new album, "United Kingdom Of Anxiety" – out October 4.
Combining the rawness of techno and the trance-like nature of world music, industrial sound and a fine blend of trip-hop, the Polish producer created a dystopian, post-apocalyptic,
fascinating vision of a collapsing world. "United Kingdom Of Anxiety" begins with a sonic assault. The breaks and powerful bass in "Phantom" awaken from hypnotic slumber, numbness caused by the daily hustle, serve as a reminder that to survive in an unfriendly world, concentration, willpower and perseverance are essential. This is the beginning of a journey through "United Kingdom Of Anxiety" - the new album by Zamilska, a sensitive outsider.

"I’m here to ruin you again," announces a voice in "Mummy," while the crescendo of beats and noise in "Better Off" further amplifies the tension. It's hard to find peace when hell lurks just around the corner. Is it the horror of civilization or perhaps cosmic dread? The answer depends on the listener's sensitivity.
The much-needed balance and coolness are brought by huskie vocals - that is Ola Myszor - an incredibly talented young artist who appears in several tracks on the album. Besides huskie, there are other guests on "UKOA": Natalia Przybysz, who, with a robotic voice, delivers a manifesto of indomitable, proud solitude in "Persist" and Lukasz Pach, the charismatic frontman of the grindcore band Hostia. His growling is heard in the intense, uncompromising "No Gods," which was presented by Iggy Pop on his BBC6 Music radioshow.

The sonic spectrum is also filled with anonymous voices: echoes of quarrels, media messages, sounds of war clamor, monologues - looped, accelerated, manic, psychotic, but also a wistful singing coming from the depths, from afar. The metaphysical horror of Lovecraft on one hand, and the sober, no less gloomy diagnosis of George Orwell on the other, constantly correspond here.
This entire album is a story about society as a whole and the contemporary, dystopian world, which is inevitably heading towards war. The track "1984" clearly defines the inspiration for the artist's post-apocalyptic vision. A distorted radio signal, alarm siren and gabba/techno beats driving into the head like nails serve as an expression of the fear and anger born in a world of impending totalitarianism.

Carla Boregas is a Brazilian musician, composer and sound artist. By merging synthetic and acoustic instrumentation and techniques, Boregas builds up sonic scenarios driven by an invisible force, where the sensation of presence and discovery lies between density and delicacy. Her work spans composition, improvisation, performance, sound installation and radio art, and aims to transport the listener to different subjective perspectives of time and space, to invoke memories and to reflect about the nature-human relationship.

Carla Boregas writes: "Using a Tascam Portastudio 4-track cassette recorder, I invited three musicians to improvise alone with the sound recording of the sea that I did in Massaguaçu, the place where I used to live in Brasil. The recorder that I used had a defect in one of its tracks, therefore I could only invite two musicians – Vinicius Cajado (double bass) and Réka Csiszér (cello), plus the sea in another track. While listening to the tracks together, I felt a deep sense of absence ("ausência" in Portuguese). Perhaps due to their sonorous answers surrounded by the tape hiss? Because that's one of the symbolic meanings of the ocean? Maybe "saudades do mar, de estar ao seu outro lado"? Who knows – listening can be something very mysterious. Afterwards I played with and interweaved them all: the sonorous sea, Vinicius Cajado, Réka Csiszér and the absence - "Absência Tape" is the final result." – Carla Boregas, Berlin, 8 August 2024.

First contact has been made: Primer is poised to elevate listeners into the stratosphere, with RARE6 coming through as Rarefied's answer to the Voyager Golden Record.

As the 21st century was born, so Kreator underwent what was nothing less than a seismic creative rebirth. By this time, the iconic German band had released nine studio albums in the 1980s and '90s, which had established them as one of the most important metal names of these decades.In the first period, they had helped to shape and pioneer the thrash scene through such releases as 'Pleasure To Kill' (1986), 'Terrible Certainty' ('87) and 'Extreme Aggression' ('89). During the following decade, the band had opened up exciting horizons of experimentation on albums like 'Coma Of Souls' (1990), 'Renewal' ('92) and 'Endorama' ('99).
Now, though, it was time to move into a fresh era, as vocalist/guitarist Mille Petrozza explains.
“During the 1990s, we were definitely experimenting with what the band were doing. But (drummer) Ventor and I decided that for this album – our first of the new millennium – we wanted to go back to the sort of sound that we had at the start of Kreator. In other words, to get back to the reason why we began the band in the first place.”

There was also new guitarist introduced, as Sami Yli-Sirniö (who had made his reputation with Finnish band Waltari) took over from Tommy Vetterli. The latter (also known as Tommy T. Baron) had joined in 1996 and played on the 'Oucast' (1997) and 'Endorama' albums.

The producer for this album was Andy Sneap, who was now making a name for himself as one of the pre-eminent masters of this art in the modern metal world.“I had known and liked Andy since the days he had been the guitarist in Sabbat, as they were signed to Noise Records as Kreator were on that label. He was our first choice to work on this new project. I liked what he'd done for Testament on their album 'The Gathering' (released in 1999). He had given them a sound they'd never had before, and that really was what we were after. It was natural and organic, and also very modern. I remember phoning him at his Backstage Studios in England (Ripley in Derbyshire). And Warrel Dane, the vocalist in Nevermore, answered. Andy was producing their new album at the time ('Dead Heart In A Dead World', 2000). And when I heard this, again I was very impressed. So, I was delighted when he agreed to produce the new Kreator album.”

The album title came from something Petrozza had read. “In a book I came across a comment that John F. Kennedy said (in 1962). This was: "Those who make peaceful revolution impossible will make violent revolution inevitable”. I thought 'Violent Revolution' would make a good title for an album. So, I kept it in my mind for this record. I think 'Violent Revolution' is a title that makes a real impact.”

One interesting aspect of the track listing was that the 52 second instrumental 'The Patriarch' actually came after the opening song 'Reconquering The Throne'. Fans might have been expected that it would have opened the album. But for Petrozza, there was a logical reason for this not to happen. “We really wanted to lead off with a thrashing track, to show everyone what we were now doing musically. After 'Endorama', it was important that everyone should recognise this was a new era for Kreator.”

'Violent Revolution' is without question an excellent album. While in some ways it does hark back to the glories of the band's earlier days, nonetheless it does not sound at all nostalgic. The performances and production values are very much part of the contemporary era, and the strength of the compositions themselves are of the highest values. Rising to the challenge offered by a new generation of ambitious metal bands, Kreator proved they were far from being a spent force. Unlike so many of their peers, here was a band who still had so much creativity to offer, and were also clearly excited themselves by what they were doing. And when you hear the band themselves enjoying the entire process, then you know this is a bona fide revitalisation.

Long time in the vaults, soon out in pop heaven: Andrea & Alexander, a handsomely nostalgic pop project by Andrea Noce aka Eva Geist and Alexander Arpeggio. Originally launched in 2014, revitalized in 2023, the project originated as a live set-up consisting of synthesizers, ePects pedals, and analogue drum machines. From there it slowly metamorphosed into a crew of songs with raw minimal-wave grooves and romantically haunting English and German pop lyrics, loosely evoking the aura of Siouxsie Sioux, Gudrun Gut or Nadine Bal. After becoming a live mainstay in the Berlin based underground club Sameheads, they went on a tour through Lithuania and soon after several unfortunate troubles led to the break-up of the band, prompting both Andrea and Alexander to focus on their solo careers. Andrea became Eva Geist and released for various international labels, played live and formed the female duo As Longitude. Alexander founded his own label Eine Welt, took over the management of the renowned underground festival Camp Cosmic and created two musical projects with Cid Hohne, Otto and Aufgang B. Now, years later, almost becoming a Soundcloud corpse some Andrea & Alexander recordings caught the attention of the R.i.O. folks and just seconds later they offer six freshly recorded cuts of Andrea & Alexander tunes that stood the test of time as authentic, soulful pop music. “What are we going to wear for tonight’s party?” Andrea Noce asks in their song “Tiney Party”. The answer is “Loved Up” a musical celebration outfit of six sincere recorded, emotionally accorded songs, who make the dance, give verve a chance, to be there, in that moment of all moments. An album for the listener that likes to dance. In his head, on the local carpet. “Loved Up” humming Andrea & Alexander tunes.

DEFTR (pron - ‘Defuture’): The Revolutionary Collaboration Redefining Ambient and Techno Music

DEFTR, the newly formed alias of Answer Code Request and Jan Wagner, presents their debut album “Run Away” on npm, introducing a captivating fusion of ambient and techno. This collaborative project marks a departure from Answer Code Request's renowned 4/4 techno framework, venturing into expansive auditory realms enriched by Jan Wagner's classical expertise.

Spanning eight meticulously crafted tracks, DEFTR's debut album explores a spectrum of blissful and resonant soundscapes. The compositions unfold with a delicate balance of ambient textures and rhythmic innovation, punctuated by evocative vocal samples that enhance the album's atmospheric depth.

Having previously released three EPs that hinted at this innovative direction, DEFTR solidifies their unique sonic identity with this full-
length release. The interplay between Answer Code Request's intricate rhythms and Wagner's ambient sensibilities creates a dynamic tension, resulting in a listening experience that is both immersive and transformative.

DEFTR's vision extends beyond the studio, aiming to bring their sound to life on stage with a focus on live performance elements, including drum machines and synths. While details of the debut album release show are forthcoming, Berlin is anticipated to host this significant event.

With their debut album, DEFTR not only establishes a new creative path for Answer Code Request and Jan Wagner but also sets a high standard for npm's inaugural release, promising an engaging and profound auditory journey.

The unconscious and unknown must be really nice places. In any case, if you take the second album of Menelaos Tomasides under his given name as travelogue. A trip into dreamlike territory, yet concrete enough, a journey without target yet looking forward and looking back into familiar places, „dreamhike“ both continues and departs from the style Menelaos has found earlier, in “When the Moon Comes Through”, or his more conceptual-intentional “31 Minuten” works. As the album title - which roughly translates to “dream hiking” but also hints on “walkabout” and “songlines” – suggests, we are rambling between the real and the imaginary. From the bucolic border triangle of Belgium, Germany, and the Netherlands to the buzzing streets of the capital of Cyprus, where Menelaos has lived for many years, the tracks are about real places, about real experiences and emotions yet interwoven with a dreamlike fabric. Something that is just not tangible, yet substantial and palpable. Something concrete that manifests in the genuine and special sound design of this records - basically all of Menelaos’ works - his really special treatment of dynamics and loudness. It is one of the very few records where the established language of music making, specifically Techno, House, Dub, and early 2000’ Electronica, the clicks, thumps and plops from an earlier age of electronic music, transmogrify into slow movements of something new. Something that is gentle and truly personal, looking inwards. There are four-to-the-floor beats, there is wobbly bass, and dubby chords, even sublimated clarion calls. There is an immense energy in these tracks, the sheer materiality of low frequencies of a massive sound system manifested in a tiny room. Yet it is without any aggression, stripped bare of sonic pressure. It is quiet music no matter how high you turn up the volume. A rare treat, that requires exceptional skills and exceptional restraint and control on the technical side of music making. Probably it is a result of Menelaos specific combination of instinctual, intuitive approach to making music, which meets a genuine love for sound in seemingly endless loops of refinement that can lead to such a result as „dreamhike“. The elegant floating balance of control and playful experimentation manifests for example in a track that continues the ongoing collaboration with seasoned Cologne improviser Achim Fink on bass trumpet. Not only in this respect, the album can be described as a product of openness. It comes from a lot of taking in the world, of travel, of places and people met, of friendship and conversation (not necessarily with words). The deep trip of “dreamhike” further manifests Menelaos as one of the truly independent voices of electronic Cologne and beyond. Somewhat alike in character and attitude probably to what late Pete Namlook has established for Frankfurt with his label Fax +49-69/450464 (though ultimately warmer and much less uncanny) Menelaos has found his very own sound and vision. Music that answers to no one but speaks to everyone. Uncompromising yet gentle to the core: kind sounds from a kind spirit, arguably the most extraordinary and valuable quality music can have these days.

Sunset Rubdown are set to release their fourth studio album_the first in fifteen years!_Always Happy To Explode.Twenty years ago Spencer Krug began using the name Sunset Rubdown for his solo bedroom recordings, experiments too low-fi and odd for what was then a blossoming Wolf Parade, but by 2005 Sunset Rubdown had evolved into a full band, with Michael Doerksen, Jordan Robson-Cramer, and Camilla Wynne joining Krug on stage and in the studio. The band recorded their third critically-acclaimed album, Dragon Slayer, in Chicago in 2008, then went on to play their last show in Tokyo in 2009, with the implicit knowledge it was their last. They broke up quietly, their certitude that they'd never reunite growing as the years rolled on. Then one night more than a dozen years after their final show Krug had a dream (he really did) that the band reunited, and the first thing he did upon awakening was email the band to see if the dream might be made real. The answer was a resounding yes, and soon enough Sunset Rubdown was onstage again. The first show in fourteen years was in Montreal, where they had formed so long ago. The tour was a success, most crucially in terms of having fun, the main condition of their continued pursuits. This fun was thanks in no small part to their blithesome new member, bassist Nicholas Merz. And thus they decided to make a new album together. The record is composed of nine songs cherry-picked from demos that Krug has been posting to his Patreon page over recent years, with the songs in many cases being pared down from their previous incarnations, yet no less lush. Being a band is no easy feat, perhaps especially as members age and spread across the continent, but it certainly is a privilege. With Always Happy to Explode, Sunset Rubdown have made something that captures their gratitude and the energy of their joyous (and sometimes difficult) reunion.