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Decomposed recalls classic American hardcore like Bad Brains, Poison Idea and Jerry’s Kids or Japanese ragers like Paintbox, The Comes, Eiefits and Skizophrenia. But there’s also a healthy slug of classic UK and US punk and even a bit of Krautrock, psychedelia and Black Sabbath in there too. Nottingham has always been a melting pot for heavy music. For a small city, it has boasted more than its fair share of genre defining bands and artists, not to mention record labels. Bands cross-pollinate, form projects and offshoots and play one-off gigs that would result in lengthy careers and world tours if they had happened across the Atlantic. It has always been like that there. No big deal (but yet, a really big deal if you know). One such band/project/offshoot were Endless Grinning Skulls. Formed by guitarist Andy Morgan (also from Bloody Head, Army Of Flying Robots, Nadir and countless more), drummer Steve Charlesworth (Heresy, Wolves Of Greece, Meatfly, Geriatric Unit) and bassist Gords (Hard To Swallow, John Holmes, Geriatric Unit) in the early twenty-teens, they re-set the bar for the 3-piece hardcore band before (perhaps inevitably) burning out in 2018. Morgan and Charlesworth weren’t done though. They’d forged a bond in EGS and wanted to carry on playing together so - in a familiar Nottingham storyline - they recruited former Pitchshifter guitarist Stu Toolin on bass and Anmarie Spaziano (who you might know from running a famous burger joint) on vocals and formed Blind Eye. They knew Toolin was about to relocate to Portland, Oregon so they wrote and recorded an EP (released on Morgan’s own Viral Age Records). Quick-sharp. No messing about. And that – by rights – should have been that: over and out. New band please. However, the demo captured a rare intensity and vitality that more considered projects often fail to achieve. This was a band let loose, free from previous shackles and loving the noise they made. It seemed a shame to stop there. Recruiting Matt Grundy (a former bandmate of Morgan’s in both Nadir and Dead In The Woods) to the bass vacancy they went back to Stuck On A Name Studios in 2021 with Ian “Boulty” Boult at the helm again and delivered the album Decomposed.
Decomposed genuinely rocks out without losing one iota of the effervescent anger that made the demo such an essential listen. From the insistent, minimal opener Ready To Go Now via the unhinged thrash of Straw Man and the menace of the stomping Pero No Quieres, to the measured chugging and epic crescendo of closer Broken Star, this record is a fucking blast. Needle off, flip it back over, play it again. Your neighbours are loving it so much they’re banging on the walls to tell you. “I suppose the intention was to write high energy, catchy hardcore, with a nod to what has come before, but also to do our own thing,” explains Andy. “Lyrically, the album was written during the pandemic, and although it’s not ‘a pandemic album’, I think it deals with a lot of the feelings of loss, separation and isolation

• From critically acclaimed composer, producer and multi-instrumentalist Bobby Krlic comes the Ivor Novello-nominated Original Soundtrack to Returnal™. Returnal is a roguelike psychological third-person shooter developed by Housemarque and published by Sony Interactive Entertainment. The game launched last April on PlayStation 5 and won several end-year accolades, including Best Game at the 18th British Academy Games Awards.

• Best known for his work as the Haxan Cloak, Bobby Krlic brings his experience as an award-winning to Returnal, imbuing the score with a gritty and experimental quality that matches the tone of the third-person shooter game. Punctuated by atmospheric strings and intensely foreboding synths, the music captures the high stakes energy of the futuristic world.

• Published by Milan Records the score to Returnal is now available on vinyl and is pressed on a transparent yellow vinyl housed in a dress jacket.

• The album marks Krlic’s first-ever video game title as lead composer and follows his critically acclaimed, award-winning scores for director Ari Aster’s Midsommar, Hulu’s Reprisal, TNT’s Snowpiercer and The Alienist, and more. With each project, Krlic adds new elements or experiments with techniques that he has never used before. Returnal was no exception. His creative process began in a similar way, as usual, tinkering away with melodies and themes on his acoustic instruments. But much like the ever-shifting environment in the game, the acoustic roots of Returnal’s sound shifted, allowing Krlic to venture further into the world of modular synthesis.

• “With Returnal, it felt to me that they wanted to do something with that genre that I hadn’t really seen before. In the game, when you die, you never die. You wake up back at this crash where your spaceship landed. The landscape is ever so subtly changing every time you wake up, so you have this constant feeling of disorientation that grows bigger and bigger. I thought that concept was so cool. There were so many ideas that I could build into the music from that.”- Bob Krlic

Évariste is one of the rare specimens of artist-cum-scientists. Among his kind stand others like Pierre Schaeffer, a Polytechnique graduate (an engineer but also the father of musique concrète) and the eccentric Boby Lapointe (graduate of the École centrale and inventor of the Bibi-binaire system, patented in 1968). Évariste's songwriting, joyful and full of energy (albeit extremely critical), shrouds an original tragedy: born in 1943 among résistants, Joël Sternheimer (aka Évariste) grew up without a father, lost to Auschwitz. Although he makes little reference to Jewish culture in his music, his origins leave their mark: in 1974, he sings a Hebrew song on television. In 1966, the young Joël sports Princeton's colourful paraphernalia - that's because he's freshly returning from the US, where he was sent to pursue his research on "particle mass and the interpretation of observed regularities, such as the effects of a wave" (will understand who may). When he gets there the country's in the midst of the Vietnam War. With McNamara keen to find an alternative to the nuclear weapon and calling upon the country's biggest brains to undertake the task, there's a "fund shift" within the university - a diplomatic way to give notice to whoever may not be disposed to follow the government's scheme. Joël, who's under the supervision of a rebellious physician, is dismissed. He regardless keeps following the prestigious seminaries of the Institute for Advanced Study, chaired by Oppenheimer, inventor of the atomic bomb. Likely inspired by the hippie movement and music, Joël buys a guitar and starts playing in Washington Square - after all, Bob Dylan himself started there. He blithely skips Oppenheimer and receives a warm (though surprised) welcome from a crowd thoroughly unfamiliar with French. When the ageing physicist questions him about his decreasing attendance, Joël explains how drawn he is to music, and how he thinks it could help him in self-financing his research. Évariste recalls seeing the sickened man, his face torn by remorse, lighten up to his words and say: "What's keeping you - go for it! If I was still young that's exactly what I'd do." The student takes these words as a testimony from his professor - and it's enough to convince him . And so he takes the leap during the Christmas vacations he spends in Paris. A journalist friend he often sees around the Sorbonne introduces him to the artistic director of Disques AZ. The latter passes the tapes on to the label's boss, Lucien Morisse, also program manager on Europe N°1. Morisse is blown away - and signs him onto the label right away. Michel Colombier, arranger for Serge Gainsbourg and co-author of "Psyché Rock", with Pierre Henry, contributes some of his original ideas to the 7 inch "E=mc2": Évariste's preoccupation with the percussion sound on the track "Le calcul intégral" is that it goes "poom poom" and not "tock tock" - Colombier is aware of the issue and records Évariste's guitar like a percussion in an isolated booth. The organist Eddy Louis, who is to participate, in 1969, to the success of Claude Nougaro's "Paris mai", also appears on the record. It's 1966 and the Antoine phenomenon (signed on Vogue) storms through France. The two singers share similarities: Antoine is an engineer of the École centrale, gifted with a great originality in his song-writing. A godsend for the two labels who turn this resemblance into a commercial strategy, setting them out as rivals. To this day though, Évariste still denies what was little more than slushy tabloïd gossip. Success comes around swiftly and in 1967 Évariste launches into a second 7 inch, "Wo I nee", again arranged by Michel Colombier. Quantum mechanics fans finally get their anthem with "La Chasse Au Boson Intermédiaire" (or the "Intermediary Boson Pursuit"). To sum up what's a boson, say he's a close pal of the meson, photon and other gluons. A few months later, it's May 68 and everything's turned upside down. Évariste writes a series of songs inspired by the events, which he immediately submits to Lucien Morisse. When the man behind "Salut les copains", once married to Dalida, hears the song "La révolution" - a father and son dialogue - he can't take any more: AZ simply cannot release this. But there and then Lucien Morisse makes a gesture which will remain engraved in French music's history: sorry to be unable to officially stand by the singer, he encourages him to self-produce the record, but with his tacit support. He calls the pressing factory and asks they apply the same rate for Évariste as they would for AZ. The singer and his musicians use the same studio as for the previous record, all of them playing for free awaiting a return on investment. Évariste keeps singing at the Sorbonne with "Jussieu's gang" and "the young Renaud" he nicknames "le p'tit gavroche" (or "street urchin"). Renaud volunteers to type the lyrics of the song "La révolution" so that the chorus can be sung and recorded. A boy in the group is related to Wolinski and introduces them. The two get along so well that Wolinski ends up drawing the cover for the record "La révolution", for free. The self-released 7 inch "La révolution / La faute à Nanterre" is sold under the table and door-to-door for half the price of a standard record, on and around the boulevard Saint-Michel; and it runs out fast. In the end, there will be 6 releases of the record, and 25000 copies sold. When the theatre director Claude Confortès decides to adapt Wolinski's drawing series titled "Je ne veux pas mourir idiot" ("I don't want to die a fool"), he asks Évariste to write the original soundtrack. His friend, now cartoonist for Hara-Kiri Hebdo, often promotes him in accordance with a principle dear to him by virtue of which he gives a special place to his friends. Dominique Grange (writer of the song "Nous sommes les nouveaux partisans") soon joins the team. After 150 performances, Évariste leaves his place to Dominique Maurin (brother of Patrick Dewaere). Évariste composes the songs for Claude Confortès' next play, "Je ne pense qu'à ça" ("That's all I think about"), co-wrote with Wolinski in 1969. The comedians of the play record the songs on a 7 inch, with a cover signed, again, by Wolinski. In 1971, French television produces the documentary "Évariste et les 7 dimensions", but doesn't air it. Indeed, the scientific sub-comity of the programming comity (sic) censors the show. The given justification is that "Évariste dangerously mixed science with science-fiction, numerology and other non-scientific disciplines". The underlying motive might have been a will to censor the singer-mathematician's political discourse. In the documentary and among other things, Évariste discusses hierarchy, alienation and revolution. Half a century later the documentary remains invisible, though some excerpts resurfaced in 1992 in the cult show "L'oeil du cyclone", on Canal +. Though flourishing, Évariste's career is nearing its end. 1970 is the beginning of a decade in the course of which he is to make a decisive discovery in the musical and scientific domains. Following this breakthrough, he moves away from self-produced music and gaucho magazines to focus on science. He keeps Oppenheimer's encouraging words in mind, now freely pursuing his research thanks to the sales of his records. Joël realises that when decoding protein sequences, one finds musical sequences recognisable to humans. He names them "proteodies". If, when listening to a proteody, one responds by being so sensitive as to finding it beautiful, then it reveals a deficiency of the related protein - and this peculiar music may be the cure. We could trace back the music history in light of proteins lacking in a given artist, or within a public's majority. You always thought these hysterical groupies who'd throw their underwear with passion and faint in the pit had miraculously appeared because they had never heard anything as wonderful as the Beatles? Make no mistake! For Évariste, it all boils down to an intro's protein content. Indeed, the beginning of their first hit "Love Me Do" corresponds to dopamine, the neurotransmitter linked to compulsive buying. An intro like this could only unleash the fervour of groupies, victims of fashion and biology. Évariste's success is such that the income from his sales gives him the autonomy to which he had aspired when confiding to Oppenheimer. It made it possible for him to pursue his research without any institutional constraints. He now devotes himself to his proteodies, sat in the offices of the European University for Research, just around the corner from the Sorbonne he knew so well. Évariste is no more. Joël regained control of this strange and comical beast.

It’s the desire to celebrate their sonic bounty that first got Oberst and the band excited about
the idea of comprehensive reissues. But this wouldn’t be a Bright Eyes project if a moment
devoted to appreciating the past weren’t turned into an opportunity to connect with the future.
That’s where the companion EPs (on Opaque Gold vinyl) come in. Or as Oberst puts it, “the
supplemental reading” for the primary reissues: one six-track EP per reissued album, each
featuring five reworked songs from that album. “My thing was they had to sound different from
the originals, we had to mess with them in a substantial way.” Plus one cover that felt “of the
era” in which that particular albums was made - a song that meant something to the band at
the time. To help the EPs come alive in the fullest way, Bright Eyes called in lots of old friends,
like Bridgers, M. Ward, and Welch and Rawlings, as well as new ones like Katie Crutchfield of
Waxahatchee.
‘Fevers And Mirrors’ is pressed on Merlot Wave coloured double vinyl.

Singer, songwriter, novelist, and painter Kathryn Williams is proud to announce her new album 'Night Drives'. The collectionexploresa more filmic sound, with a larger ensemble of instrumentation, particular emphasis on the strings and production from Ed Harcourt. Journeying from leftfield contemporary pop to soft acoustics, Kathryn Williams uses her latest LP to explore a variety of fresh ideasdriven, in part, by a host of collaborators. Kirsty Logan, Oystein Greni, Romeo Stodart, Matt Deighton, Simon Edwards, YvetteWilliams, Neill Maccoll, Andy Bruce, Ida Wenoe, Joel Sarakula, Emily Barker and John Alder all have credits on various tracks across 'Night Drives'. Kathryn explains "I've been releasing music for 24 years now. That fact blows me away, and things have changed so much over those years. The biggest change has been my love of co-writing and writing for other artists. This began when I first went on a writing retreat with Chris Difford forming close friendships and working relationships that are represented here".

We’re stoked to welcome back Medlar to Delusions for his third EP on the label and you’re in for a proper treat! One of the unsung heroes of UK underground house music, Medlar has released on Wolf Music, Wah Wah 45’s and West Friends. His remixes and edits for the likes of West End, Kon, Dele Sosimi, Glenn Astro, Disclosure and Billy Cobham always hit the spot with an authentic, raw and crunchy sound that work magic on the dance floor.

Here on his Interruptor EP we have 4 tracks which show off his range as a producer, taking in percussive tools, deep and dusty basement jams and blissful late night atmospherics. Lead track Interruptor is deceptively simple but devastating on a big system. Chopped up percussion, speaker wobbling bass and a heavy kick lay the foundation for crazy timbales and filtering syn-toms, all topped off with a familiar sample from back in the rave days.

Next up we have I Wish which features Kim Anh who delivers a brilliant vocal complimenting the low-slung disco drums, 808 percussion and fat bassline perfectly. This is our idea of what a modern day house hit should sound like. Raw and unpolished with a loose, un-quantized groove so you can feel the funk and a dynamic arrangement which keeps the energy high throughout.

Flipping over we have Cable Street which cranks things up with a techy house jam perfect for more peaks time sets. Once again, Medlar knows ex- actly how to make more with less and keeps the shuffling drums stripped back and simple stabs and modulating FX front and centre for maximum im- pact.

Finally, Turn Things Around brings a more 90’s deep NYC feel to the EP with floating pads, bouncing bassline, piano stabs and organ riff. Subtley epic and grandiose without being showy, this is a slow-burner that could just be one of those B2 tracks which become your favourite of the release.

He might be vocalist in bands such as Brighton-based progressive act Diagonal and psychedelic outfit Baron, but when it comes to his solo work Alex Crispin has typically worked in more wordless fields. Last year the songwriter, vocalist and producer released a triptych of ambient albums, consisting of two older albums in 'Idle Worship' and 'Open Submission', as well as new meditative work in 'Resubmergency'. On his new self-titled album, however, Crispin re-emerges from the cavernous soundscapes to – for the first time – put his vocal and song writing stamp on a record under his own name. “I personally find it easier to create more guarded, moody music, but I was at a point where I wanted to embrace a more universal, intimate and open side to what I might say” Crispin says. “Over time I’d got over certain blocks or preoccupations and so wanted to create something accessible and open hearted, which became a big driver for this record.” Pointedly self-titled to reflect the newfound confidence in his song writing away from the collective of a band, the album’s nine tracks are a warm embrace amidst troubled times. Musically there’s nods to everything from tropicalia and Brazilian MPB, to 80’s dusk pop balladeers The Blue Nile and Paul Simon’s explorations into African music. Lyrically aware of the snowballing turbulence that surrounds us, Crispin in reaction tries to see hope and looks around at the relationships and connections in his life that provide him strength. He opens 'Invisible (To Us)' with the words “Before the world did end, there was just one moment when, everybody thought there might be time, to look around again, to laugh to cry to sing.” Elsewhere, 'Listen & Learn' strikes at the heart of other underlying themes of the record, of the rarity of people opening up, taking on new ideas and allowing change. It’s accompanied with a rich, maximal sound palette of flute and sax that play around each other as Crispin’s vocal chips in with gentle encouragement. “One of the main markers on the album that I was aware of from the start, was to let myself express joy and positivity in the music” he says. “I have come to greatly prize the power of accessibility and universality over artistic 'coolness or trend', much in the same way that so often for me, the greatest pieces of art humans make nowadays are things like Pixar movies, with their combination of undeniable human talent and craft, alongside genuinely moving and accessible themes.” Indeed, there is a cinematic feel to much of Crispin’s own music, something brought over from his ambient creations – although his self-titled album possesses a panorama all of its own. Something like 'When I Reach The Ocean' has a hazy, pastoral feel to it like something out of the Canterbury Folk scene; there’s space between the notes though, which in turn pushes the track out to a greater expanse than the comparatively soft-edged and modest sound palette used to create it. Similarly, the likes of 'Effert' revel in the space afforded to them - in the case of the aforementioned in particular, Crispin lets his voice take a back seat and creates an open wash of sound that he allows the guitar to probe and explore within. “In making any music I am definitely conscious of trying to put in only what is effective” Crispin says. “It is so easy to clutter tracks without realising it, just having the ability to add stuff can just become addictive as it’s so easy to do with recording setups now.” The album started coming together at the end of 2020, with Crispin getting most of the songs to a concrete state, before starting recording in May 2021 with Diagonal bandmates Luke Foster (drums) and Daniel Pomlett (Bass), who put down rhythm tracks. Jazz saxophonist Rob Milne then added parts which would become the glue that held the whole organic aesthetic of the album together. There’s no doubt that lockdown played a part in proceedings, with a kind of forced focus resulting in a need for joyful expression. However, Crispin and his partner also suffered a bereavement which led to her travelling for large periods of time. “It was a very intense and difficult time and I think some of the intensity of emotion of that situation coupled with being alone must have inevitably contributed to the work itself” he says. It's perhaps why when even in moments of sheer happiness, such as the 'Sabu’s' breezily euphoric opener, Crispin ponders: “No-one really cares beyond this moment, and even when it's here, it's never here”. It’s the first of several bittersweet moments on the record that give the album its weight. On this new LP, Crispin recognises that sadness doesn’t mean throwing out hope, and that even in moments of joy there’s still a path ahead of you to take.

Swedish progg is not to be confused with "prog" as in progressive rock music. When we are talking about progg, we are referring to the Swedish music movement influenced by the political climate of the late 60's, to some extent the hippie movement and in many cases also Swedish folk music. Music highly driven by a political agenda. Blod's Knutna Nävar, originally released in an edition of 150 copies on Förlag För Fri Musik in 2018 and later a small cassette run, is pretty much a lost progg classic from the 70's. This is not a case of copying a certain sound though, far from it, neither are ideas really rehashed nor does the album feel nostalgic in that sense. Rather it feels like if someone has read about the progg movement and all the records but never actually heard it, yet decided to do an album and somehow managed to succeed big time. Further developing the sound palette and ambience initiated with parts of the Leendet Från Helvetet recording, the music feels slightly louder and more in your face. It's like it's more of everything. The melodies are immediate and it's quite impossible to resist the brash catchiness of it all. Albeit mentioning progg music and its importance for this recording, the actual musical side of Knutna Nävar has in reality more in common with soundtrack/library music and Swedish composers like the late Björn Isfält when you attempt to break it down. The crude DIY approach and anything-goes mentality just adds an extra dimension to it all and ultimately places the music somewhere else. There's a rather blunt use of samples throughout the record (sources probably best to leave out, though you don't have to be a Einstein to figure these out), but then again this is made by the same guy that gave the world the ABBA album. Those samples has managed to become an integral part of the music through the few years that has passed and though well familiar with the records those snippets are now to me genuinely Blod and nothing else. It seems like everyone has their own favourite but Knutna Nävar is the Blod album I have returned to the most. It has that extra something that sets it apart and if I would have to pick up a few records that sums up why Gothenburg has been a pretty damn awesome place to be in the last 10 years or so, this would definitely be one of the top picks.

Stockholm post-punk band V**gra Boys (**= "ia" because spam FILTERS) are announcing a new album Cave World due out July 8th via YEAR0001 Produced by past collaborators Pelle Gunnerfeldt (The Hives, The Knife, etc.) and DJ Haydn, the album is inspired by current events, and aims to tear through the insanity and confusion the world currently finds itself in. Like sin- eaters if sins had to be ingested from a very small spoon, V**gra Boys have consumed the utterly incomprehensible chaos of our era and distilled it into the 12 immaculate tracks that make up Cave World.

As 2021’s Welfare Jazz was earning rave reviews from the likes of Pitchfork, NPR, GQ, NME, Stereogum, Fader, and more, Viagra Boys were in the midst of rerecording what would become their followup. After putting together an entire album at the legendary Silence Studio in the town of Koppom, the band decided they could push harder. "We let it marinate for a while and then rerecorded absolutely everything," Murphy explains. S

ome of the music made it through to what would become Cave World, but replacing the lyrics. In that iterative process,
Murphy found himself returning time and again to a misconception with deeper roots: the idea that humanity is moving forward. After watching a video late one evening about a theory that suggests evolution involved trading in some cognitive
abilities for others, Murphy began stewing on the fact that the result was mass shootings and science denial. "I just wrote down, 'Who is the true ape?'" he says.

"People look down at apes as primitive life forms, but we're just this horrible, lazy society killing each other and starting wars, while they’re able to love and feel.
Does that make them the true ape or us?"

Following the precursor singles of 2021, Formality Jerne-Site’s unveiling is finally cast upon her already-growing fanbase. Trained classically as a composer and completing a masters at the Royal Danish Academy of Fine Arts, Jura introduces a highly-anticipated playground of carefully sculpted characters, plots and lessons - sometimes charming, sometimes nefarious, always absolute and sincere. A fictional land opens its doors and roof to us. A trio of trans kids run amok in rural suburbia. Various sorcerers of the wild future enter the scene on some songs; on others, the mind is cast to sun-drenched drives and journeys of yesteryear. At the heart is a pop sensibility: yearning, reflections, vanity, guesswork, hope. Jura is adamant about practice and precision. Dead seriously she offers, about making music: ‘Nothing should be half-hearted or an accident.’ There’s a maturity and elegance to her compositions, arrangements that - although at first sound seem abstract - lean away from experimental, somehow. She sing-speaks in English, and somehow not typically theatrically for such a play of a record. The theatrics are all real. It’s a fantasy land for sure, but it's based on hard facts. Like academia subdivided into poetry. It’s that weird-ass specificity she mentioned. Opener ‘Someone’s Lifework’ introduces less a choir of voices, than a choir of personalities. The art of storytelling is at the center of the musical expression. A protagonist relinquishes control of chaos that’s bigger than them on a perilous journey on some vessel: they comfort their co-passengers. There’s a sense that the hero - or anti-hero - might be more canny and cunning than the sweetness they first sell to fellow players. 'Is this our getaway chance?’ sings fellow Copenhagener Ydegirl amongst swelling synths and reverb that become so definitely Jerne-Site as the quest continues. The search? For intimacy, perhaps. ‘Same late Age (dIcK bIfFeReNcE)’ imbibes at once, some further disorientation, perhaps a little hallucinatory feeling which may come over the listener. Through a synthesizing of political themes that work across time ‘Same Late Age (dIcK bIfFeReNcE)’ bears reminiscences of the musical expressions of anti-capitalism in the 1980es, although in a new body and context. “I have a feeling that music reconjures societal morals and ideas from the time in which it was written when we press play or hear a live performance. From the moment at a concert when the symphonic orchestra starts tuning in, the time traveling begins. So I imagined how it would be to be trans sitting there playing the first violin, having the job of producing that first tone that all the other musicians around me tune in ona, ” Jura explains. The listener yearns for more; and subsequent tracks deliver. On ‘How Intimate It Gets,’ Jura meditates on the futility of closeness, begging the audience to enter the blood and guts of their own entanglements, the blueprints of focusing entering. Jura sings richly about fingers being lines, pointing or bending, and we’re reminded of their own wicked ways we can’t control. A history of singing in choirs informs the harmony of myriad inner voices heard across the album. At once prophetic and enigmatic, some of the songs rearrange historical events out of pop musical language. The enormously entertaining ‘Pinot-Botticelli Toast to European Users’ conjures scenes of Cold-War world leaders stuck on a cruise in the Transatlantic vacuum, and the protagonist watches a devastating heartbreaker careen on into the picture, led by his own hips on ‘The Lasceaux Associate’. Finally, on title track ‘Formality Jerne-Site’, American English rises to the occasion like a verdict around the narrative of three trans teenagers in rural Colorado: language turns into something sensual and haptic, playing with the snare and sizzle of syllables. The words twist and bend, while the music follows its own synaesthetic logic: “around us pop culture made a vow to a normative desire, drawing in like water color percussion”. Anyines is a site of play and documentation, with a canon so far quite nice. Their future is one that envisions supporting the galaxies their dear friends embody, be it music, performance, video games or beyond. Highlights from their discerning back catalogue include myriad formats: live and digital, plus releases binded to physical artefacts that enhance the live experience such as sculptures and scents. Their history also includes disappearing time-sensitive shadow-tracked material and cross-disciplinary opportunities that reflect deep professionalism and a totally non-schooled semblance of sound and drama. Recent releases include a dance-theatre soundtrack, a traditional shiny pop record, and the acclaimed ML Buch sophomore, Skinned.

Clear vinyl LP edition of 500 copies. Vacant Gardens is Glenn Donaldson (of The Reds, Pinks and Purples and a hundred others) and Jem Fanvu, collaborating on music and with the latter responsible for vocals and lyrics. The project began with the idea of combining heavy fuzz and slow-mo drum machine beats with Fanvu's gentle almost trad-folk style vocals. Almost all of Donaldson's otherworldly sounds are achieved through layers of guitar fuzz and copious delay, while Fanvu offers an ideal counterpoint, taking the listener on a celestial melancholy trip with her opaque poetry and melodies. So inspired were the duo by this blend of styles, they immediately recorded at least two albums of material, Under the Bloom and Obscene, released in quick succession in 2020 and 2021 in swiftly-disappearing micro editions on the secretive Tall Texan label. With those records close-to-impossible to find at an affordable price, Tough Love are now reissuing both LPs. From Reds Pinks and Purples' Glenn Donaldson, Vacant Gardens is an interstellar recording project that combines celestial, shimmering guitar on the verge of breaking like a massive, emotive wave and an ethereal vocal style from Jem Fanvu (visual artist, Minor Ghost Band also, plus collaborating with Tune-Yards, Cavity Fangs and many more) recalling Hope Sandoval or Liz Fraser that sails in its wake. Simply put, this is some of biggest, heart-tugging guitar music you'll hear in recent times. Sold out at once debut Under The Bloom, is followed now a continuation and development of the group's sound on Obscene: a frayed tapestry of Slowdiving, Flying Saucer Attack guitar noise wall married with an angelic vocal from Fanvu that glitters in counterpoint to the stringed distortion like Hope Sandoval or, in the way it shines bright in the fog, like Jonsi's surfing the surging waves of emotion in early Sigur Ros. Originally released in February on digital formats, Obscene gets a vinyl press and is sounding massive. Vacant Gardens' music suggests oceanic feelings, a hazy intergalactic consicousness that burbles beneath the surface of everything while also touching the visceral points in the human heart that makes groups like Galaxie 500, Yo La Tengo so timeless.

No global pandemic can dull the drive of musicians to create. At the onsetof the Covid-19 crisis artists everywhere found themselves ponderingwhat music making looks like under quarantine. In the absence of touringand in-person recording New York’s Ben Pirani and Evolfo - members ofwhom play in Ben’s backing band The Means Of Production - prove thespirit of collaboration can still flourish under social distancing with the helpof file sharing. And so the idea to exchange remixes of existing materialrevealed itself. Each musician recording their parts from home andzapping them across the city to be assembled. Peachy, from Evolfo’s 2017 LP Last Of The Acid Cowboys released onBrooklyn’s Royal Potato Family is given a solemn reharmonization byPirani. Jumping off with cacophonous strings and horns it then shifts to awinter’s day post-bop groove with Matt Gibbs original vocal swirlingabove. Cacophony returns and bookends the track leaving the listener toponder the poetic lyric. Try Love, from Ben Pirani’s 2018 Colemine LP How Do I Talk To MyBrother is stripped to it’s vital elements and built up again. Evolfo’sreimagining unfolds with a searing sunshine fuzz guitar. As the uniquegroove heats up Matt and Raff stack Ben’s original vocals getting to themessage of the tune we, together. After two big key changes the tunepours into a psychedelic zone’s unknown punctuated by sheets ofdelayed saxophone.

Beginning life in 2018 in the home of songwriter Myles McCabe experimenting with shouty, electronic bedroom pop ME REX are equipped with multitudes of “surging gargantuan hooks”, McCabe was quickly joined by longtime friends Kathryn Woods (guitar/vocals), Phoebe Cross (drums/vocals) and Rich Mandell (bass/keys/vocals). In 2021 the band released their debut album Megabear: a record built from 52 short tracks intended to be played in shuffle mode in order for the listener to create their own perfect combination of songs. In 2022 they dove headfirst into follow-up EP Pterodactyl which saw them change pace and tact throughout — constructing delicate vocal layers with luscious swathes of guitars and keys to build a bridge between their raw DIY past and a bright, creative future. Across all four songs on new EP, Plesiosaur, ME REX focus their attention on catchy choruses and snappy rhythms. With Toilet of Venus acting as an extension of Lager Door, the former track looks at present struggles as opposed to the latters inherent nostalgia, Jupiter Pluvius looks theologically at the idea of projecting strength and power onto inanimate objects, all wrapped in sharp wordplay and vibrant fuzzed out guitars and keys that are addictive as hell. Described as “nothing short of an artistic triumph” by Brooklyn Vegan— as well as seeing praise from Pitchfork, DIY, Rocksound, Line Of Best Fit, BBC 6Music, Radio X, Amazing Radio, Audiotree, The I Paper and Baby’s Alright— ME REX are showing no signs of slowing down.

“I’m closing a chapter in my life,” Barbie Bertisch says to me from a park bench in Greenpoint, “I spent the last four years working towards gaining confidence around my ideas and my creative perspective. This feels like a culmination of that process” The “this,” in question is Bertisch’s debut record Prelude, a collection of eleven songs that chronicle 5 years of Bertisch’s life. The legendary musician Anna Domino describes the record best: “Prelude is a record of layers and depths. The melting phases and soaring distances.”


Raised in Buenos Aires and Miami, Bertisch has called New York home for most of her adult life. When she started piecing together Prelude, she was in her Brooklyn kitchen. It was early quarantine. Stuck at home instead of DJing at clubs, she found the space to parse through the archives. What she previously considered unworthy of attention in the era of distractions, finally made sense as a whole once all the noise was turned down. Compiling a list of songs in various states of completion, Bertisch dreamed up an album, a chronicle in growth and healing frustrations of the past, an honest account of someone trying to find her own voice. That in and of itself was a journey. It took years for Bertisch to accept that she was an artist. “I felt like I was surrounded by men who ruled every space. I constantly felt like I had to ask permission to enter, always around bands but never the girl in the band” she says.


Prelude is an introspective record. It explores all of the valences of being and feeling. Some songs are chaotic and choppy. Others are soft and searching. There is rage and innocence, and moments of forced stillness, like capturing the aftermath of panic attacks, as in “After The Storm”. Bertisch also focuses on rhythm, bass guitar being her main instrument, and no stranger to the power of the beat. The record also draws on influences as varied as Kaitlyn Aurelia Smith, Cocteau Twins, Berlin School, and pioneering producer François Kevorkian. Both sonically and conceptually, Prelude is a portrait of who Bertisch is as a person.“Is This What You Wanted?” is fiery, a pointed provocation to domineering figures from her past. It’s full of strobing, strident synths, and heady lines of bass. It gives off the same vibe as a fire alarm, as a big room dance track that subverts your expectations of what it means to dance in a sea of bodies. “28,” the record’s opening track is more peaceful. It’s all languid keyboard arpeggios with the occasional flourish of a cascading synth effect.


Since most of the songs already existed in some form or another, Bertisch’s job on Prelude was to refine and reimagine music that had previously been private. She spent time rearranging, rewriting, adding elements newly available to her, such as the saxophone, and pushing the limits of the rough mixes to mold the universe she envisioned. Along the way, Bertisch grew more excited about her abilities as a musician. The resulting record is one that is inherently confident.


Prelude is also a homespun release. It’s coming out on Bertisch’s own label, Love Injection Records, which she runs with her partner Paul Raffaele. The two also DJ and make zines under the name, which started in 2015. Love Injection is a love letter to New York. Prelude is a word of encouragement to those struggling with self-actualization. The record was mixed by Justin Van Der Volgen and mastered by Walter Coelho. Love Injection Records holds the remix tradition in high regard, and they’ve enlisted reworks by some of Barbie’s favorite producers. It’s all a labor of love for Bertisch. Prelude is her: Barbie the musician.
©℗ Love Injection Records 2022

Ivo Neame's twisting grooves and harmonic ingenuity have helped
establish his distinct voice in international contemporary jazz
The celebrated Phronesis pianist returns to Whirlwind for 'Glimpses of Truth', a
powerful artistic statement marking the first time Neame's big band
compositions have been committed to disc. Neame's most assured body of work
to date will undoubtedly be remembered as one of this period's most impressive
artistic achievements. "Having lots of people play this intricate polyrhythmic
music can be really emotionally powerful," says Neame. Taking inspiration from
Phronesis' large ensemble projects, the compositions also played a didactic role,
as a way of introducing newcomers to complex rhythmic structures. The
pandemic flipped that idea on its head: faced with dwindling opportunities to hear
these compositions live, Neame thought "'I'm just going to plough on regardless
and record it all'." Composed, multi-tracked (Neame plays all the tutti sax lines),
videoed, mixed and mastered remotely over the pandemic period, 'Glimpses of
Truth' embraces the digital on a global scale, as Gilad Hekselman, Jim Hart and
Ingrid Jensen appear alongside a stellar selection of UK musicians.
Neame stumbled across an article which claimed that 12 million Americans
believe interstellar lizards run the United States. "I wanted to write a tune that
would encourage people to wake up and question their beliefs" - 'Rise of the
Lizard People' is what followed, immediately dropping you into Neame's world of
pulsing rhythms and shifting feels.
The album finds Neame well equipped on his continued search for hard- fought
truths.

He may not have known it before, but Toronto-born, New York-based
guitarist Matthew Stevens, prized for his forceful, distinctive electric
sound was an ideal candidate to make an album fully devoted to solo
acoustic guitar: the intimate, unadorned, straightforwardly titled
'Pittsburgh'
September 2020, Stevens was hunkering down in his wife's family's hometown of
Pittsburgh, while navigating his way through the crisis. He had with him a vintage
Martin 00-17, a small- body mahogany guitar. Practicing daily on the Martin, he
began generating a series of short song "starts" - ideas and sketches he thought
might lead somewhere. Then one rainy Pittsburgh day, Stevens' bike slid out from
under him and he broke his right elbow. Rather than getting derailed musically, he
became immersed in a creative process that led straight to 'Pittsburgh': a
document of those short song "starts" from the notebook, now hatched as
completed compositions. "Playing this music became a big part of my rehab,"
Stevens recalls.
As the album took shape, it became clear to Stevens that he was headed in the
direction of a wholly unaccompanied recital, with no overdubs or sound layering
of any kind. Just him and this special Martin, two Neumann U89 mics and enough
peace of mind across two separate sessions to make 'Pittsburgh' the triumph that
it is.
In addition to his extensive high-profile work with Esperanza Spalding (serving as
co- producer on 'Exposure' and '12 Little Spells'), Stevens is also a member,
songwriter and co-producer of Terri Lyne Carrington's GRAMMY-nominated Social
Science band. He has made vital contributions to groups led by Dave Douglas,
Linda May Han Oh, Christian Scott aTunde Adjuah, Ben Williams and more. With
tenor saxophonist Walter Smith III he co-leads the In Common collective. Stevens
has also amassed many credits beyond the jazz world, collaborating on
forthcoming releases by Anna B Savage, Jamila Woods, Tyler Armes
(Murdagang) and Berlin-based electronic artist Robag Wruhme.

Ramrock Records are hugely excited to announce the forthcoming release of Ghetto Priest’s ‘Big People Music’ LP, the long awaited follow up to his 2017 album, ‘Every Man For Every Man’. The idea for this LP was originally floated in 2018 and was intended to be a 6 track EP called ‘Songs for my father’. However, once Ghetto Priest got in the studio, the idea expanded as he went the extra mile adding his personal favourites, conjured up from childhood memories of his father’s tunes being played on the family radiogram with additions from his youthful excursions. A magical mixture of tracks associated with the greats – Nat King Cole, Dean Martin, Slim Smith, Ken Boothe, Aaron Neville – ‘Big People Music’ can lay claim to being the 21st century’s equivalent of John Holt’s ‘1,000 Volts of Holt’ – an absolute essential on every Blaupunkt radiogram on a Sunday and a blues party staple.

The combination of standards and righteous releases were mixed down by the Bishop of Dub, Adrian Sherwood who blessed the project with the title ‘Big People Music’, a powerful acknowledgement to those tunes which filled many a Caribbean household with immeasurable sentiments that echoed down through subsequent generations.

Please be upstanding for Ghetto Priest and ‘Big People Music’.
'In memory of the Right Honourable Arthur Beresford Townsend - My Father'

Available on vinyl for the first time since it's original CD-only release in 2007. Tenor saxophonist Fred Anderson and drummer Hamid Drake had the closest of relationships, as close as a father and son might have. Their communication was at a higher level musically and emotionally. The music on this album reflects not only their masterful musical skills, but a conversation in music that is exceptionally powerful and unique. For From the River to the Ocean, they assembled a band consisting of fellow Chicagoans to record the most relaxed, perfectly balanced album they made together. It may seem hyperbolic to call From the River to the Ocean Fred Anderson's greatest album, but the empathy and cohesiveness of the ensemble, coupled with the saxophonist's brilliant, searching improvisations, makes it a powerful contender. From the River to the Ocean is an especially varied outing, ranging from Anderson's classic set-closing blues "Strut Time" to the meditative, spiritual, modal track "For Brother Thompson," dedicated to the late trumpeter Malachi Thompson and featuring bassist Harrison Bankhead on brooding piano and Drake chanting in Arabic. The record's title track and the closer, "Sakti/Shiva," find bassist Josh Abrams laying down an astounding bed on guimbri, the threestringed Moroccan acoustic bass familiar to fans of Gnawa music. Another of the album's delights is guitarist Jeff Parker, well known Jazz guitarist as well as member of Tortoise. Here, Parker displays an immense sensitivity and melodic genius, sharing solo spotlight with Bankhead's cello on "From the River to the Ocean" and sculpting a stunning array of shapes on the group's swinging take on Anderson's "Planet E." Underneath it all is Hamid Drake, an intensely creative soul continuing to challenge himself. Drake's growth is not measured in how many different instruments he plays - indeed, he's scaled back his arsenal over the years - but in the depth and musicality of his feeling. On this record he is remarkably light and airy, playing with tremendous delicacy and clarity. Propulsion can be introduced without a pneumatic drill, and Drake instigates an avalanche of rolling forward momentum on the opening moments, inspiring the two basses and guitarist to move, to make something moving, and in turn to further inspire Fred Anderson to some of his most forceful and imaginative playing ever documented. If the individual is a small receptacle of expressivity, a mountain spring if you will, then it is in ideal settings like this one that the springs join forces, turning into streams, then bigger and bigger tributaries, finally swelling into rivers that open into the oceanic creative waterways. Thank goodness Anderson and Drake tapped into that wellspring, drawing directly from the source

Available on vinyl for the first time since it's original CD-only release in 2007. Tenor saxophonist Fred Anderson and drummer Hamid Drake had the closest of relationships, as close as a father and son might have. Their communication was at a higher level musically and emotionally. The music on this album reflects not only their masterful musical skills, but a conversation in music that is exceptionally powerful and unique. For From the River to the Ocean, they assembled a band consisting of fellow Chicagoans to record the most relaxed, perfectly balanced album they made together. It may seem hyperbolic to call From the River to the Ocean Fred Anderson's greatest album, but the empathy and cohesiveness of the ensemble, coupled with the saxophonist's brilliant, searching improvisations, makes it a powerful contender. From the River to the Ocean is an especially varied outing, ranging from Anderson's classic set-closing blues "Strut Time" to the meditative, spiritual, modal track "For Brother Thompson," dedicated to the late trumpeter Malachi Thompson and featuring bassist Harrison Bankhead on brooding piano and Drake chanting in Arabic. The record's title track and the closer, "Sakti/Shiva," find bassist Josh Abrams laying down an astounding bed on guimbri, the threestringed Moroccan acoustic bass familiar to fans of Gnawa music. Another of the album's delights is guitarist Jeff Parker, well known Jazz guitarist as well as member of Tortoise. Here, Parker displays an immense sensitivity and melodic genius, sharing solo spotlight with Bankhead's cello on "From the River to the Ocean" and sculpting a stunning array of shapes on the group's swinging take on Anderson's "Planet E." Underneath it all is Hamid Drake, an intensely creative soul continuing to challenge himself. Drake's growth is not measured in how many different instruments he plays - indeed, he's scaled back his arsenal over the years - but in the depth and musicality of his feeling. On this record he is remarkably light and airy, playing with tremendous delicacy and clarity. Propulsion can be introduced without a pneumatic drill, and Drake instigates an avalanche of rolling forward momentum on the opening moments, inspiring the two basses and guitarist to move, to make something moving, and in turn to further inspire Fred Anderson to some of his most forceful and imaginative playing ever documented. If the individual is a small receptacle of expressivity, a mountain spring if you will, then it is in ideal settings like this one that the springs join forces, turning into streams, then bigger and bigger tributaries, finally swelling into rivers that open into the oceanic creative waterways. Thank goodness Anderson and Drake tapped into that wellspring, drawing directly from the source

Canadian songwriter and producer Jeremy Haywood-Smith needed an escape from his state of mourning when he began working on Slingshot, his most recent LP as JayWood. After the loss of his mother in 2019, and a global standstill with multiple social crises throughout 2020, Haywood-Smith yearned for some forward momentum. "The idea of looking back to go forward became a really big thing for me _ hence the title, Slingshot." Feeling disconnected from his past and ancestry after the death of a parent, Haywood-Smith made a conscious effort to better understand his identity and unique Black experience living in the predominantly white province of Manitoba. Merging fantasy scenarios, personal anecdotes, and infectious pop and dance instrumentals, Slingshot is a self-portrait of JayWood at his surface and his depths. Musically, Slingshot reaches into sounds and styles Haywood-Smith has continued to explore throughout his catalog. "I think I made a really big deal to not pigeonhole myself," he explains. "Whatever is inspiring me at one point will work it's way into whatever I'm creating." Slingshot is an amalgamation of Haywood-Smith's many musical sensibilities, achieved with help from a crew of talented peers. Haywood-Smith wrote and performed a bulk of the track's instrumentations, but the LP has notable appearances from Canadian contemporaries Ami Cheon (on "Just Sayin") and Mckinley Dixon (on "Shine.") The album's penultimate track, "Thank You," was co-produced with Jacob Portrait of Unknown Mortal Orchestra. The song brings JayWood's sound full circle, offering something reminiscent of Haywood-Smith's earliest recordings, while flaunting that "The best is yet to come."