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LAUNCH EVENTS Sept 2nd - Film premier at the David Lean Cinema in Croydon with a Q & A afterwards by Griff and Mark, and an aftershow party nearby with special celebrity guests TBC. An 18 track compilation featuring the best of Croydon's punk and post punk scene! Are They Hostile? Is a new documentary film about the Punk, New Wave and Indie scene in Croydon in the late ‘70s and early ‘80s. It takes its name from the first single by Croydon band Bad Actors. To coincide with the film’s release Damaged Goods Records are releasing a compilation vinyl LP and CD featuring bands from in the film including Johnny Moped, The Marines, The Daleks, Case, Fanatics and also bands such as The Straps who played Croydon many times usually at The Star Pub in West Croydon. The CD version also features a specially recorded introduction by the legendary ex-Croydon Greyhound DJ Peter Fox. It’s been argued that Croydon was the birthplace of Punk in the UK, largely due to The Damned and Johnny Moped. But there was a group of other, less well-known bands who were part of that scene, or who came just after, but who didn’t achieve the same success or recognition. The film and album attempt to set the record straight by shining a light on bands such as Bad Actors, Case, The Daleks, The Heroes and Fanatics. the music still fizzes with the energy and enthusiasm of youth and the punk ethos of just doing it. And the participants, if a bit older and slightly less slim than forty years ago, come alive in the current interviews as if connected to the mains. As the saying goes, “old punks don’t die”, but they do remember. The documentary film takes us through the history of these bands, the people in them, the places they played and, through current interviews with “a bunch of old punks”, what they did next, and how formative and important being in a band was for them growing up. The film is the brainchild of Bad Actor Griff Griffiths and Mark Williams and will premier at the David Lean Cinema in Croydon on 2nd September with a Q & A afterwards by Griff and Mark, and an aftershow party nearby with special celebrity guests TBC. Griff explains: “It’s also a film about being young, being passionate, being part of something.” TRACKLISTING 1 – Bad Actors – Are the Hostile? 2 – Johnny Moped – Groovy Ruby (Live at the Roxy) 3 – The Marines – Step This Way 4 – Slime – Controversial 5 – Case – Smiling My Life Away 6 – The Daleks – Tiny Town 7 – Fanatics – Total Confusion 8 – The Straps - New Age 9 – The Heroes – Tarzan 10 – Bad Actors – One Of Us 11 – Johnny Moped – Incendiary Device (Live at the Roxy) 12 -The Marines – Pleasure Business 13 – Slime – Loony 14 – Case – I Don't Wanna Kill The Whales 15 - The Daleks - Rejected16 – Fanatics – When The Sun Goes Down 17 – The Straps – Brixton 18 – The Heroes - Russia

Here’s artist Max Kuhn on hearing the new Ralph White recordings for the first time: “I was driving a familiar round trip across the high desert when I first put it on. It immediately spoke to me. In the lyrics there's a familiar geography for me, a familiar emotional landscape for all of us. And maybe it was driving an almost 40 year old truck on sun baked & cracked asphalt in July, but it's like you can hear his songs coming apart- the cadence, the rhymes stumbling & defying expectations, consistency but they just keep moving. You have no choice but to go with it. Probably a good lesson for how to live in this era we're in, cracking up but keeping it all running somehow, trying to make something pretty with the time.” Recorded in Austin, Texas in March of 2020, just days before the city and the rest of the world shut down, Ralph White spent two days with producer, Jerry David DeCicca (Will Beeley, Ed Askew) and recording engineer, Don Cento, capturing a raw and wild set of performances. Ralph, having recently converted his van into a mobile living and touring quarters equipped with a wood-burning stove, left Austin, the city where he was born 70 years ago, and retreated to an Arizona commune where he began building a new house in the desert hills to escape the virus and insanity of daily living. Ralph takes us on a journey through his myriad of travels: from Dock Boggs to Syd Barrett to William Faulkner to Stella Chiweshe to Blind Uncle Gaspard…scratching banjo, rasping train whistle hollers, rolling kalimba, rousing accordion, taut shimmers of guitar, caustic fiddle and lyrics - that could have been hidden amongst the dusty inner groove of a lost Harry Smith 78 - weaving in and out of streams of consciousness, time and place. In addition to his solo work, White has recorded or performed with a diverse group of folk and avant-garde musicians: Thurston Moore of Sonic Youth, Jandek, Jack Rose, Eugene Chadbourne, Michelle Shocked, Sir Richard Bishop, and Michael Hurley. “This is what Ralph White really sounds like. It’s what time passing really sounds like. It’s what a look really feels like. This record is someone touching you all over!” --Bill Callahan “Striking, electrifying acoustic music from an underappreciated legend of the American Southwest. Here, tight song structures meet open, unadorned instrumentation: guitar, banjo, kalimba, accordion, fiddle, and White's elastic voice, unspooling pitches and syllables. White draws listeners in on his terms. Lyrics wind and twist and pull back: "Motel 6, Motel 6, Altoona, Altoona; missing you, missing you so, great big hole in my--..." Brave, beautiful, a high point in White's long career. And this is just Volume 1!” - Eli Winter. "What Ralph White puts on albums and onstage is so mind-boggling and vast, it forces those of us in the description business down a treacherous path." --Darcie Stevens, Austin Chronicle. “White was a member of well-loved punk bluegrass outfit Bad Livers, but his solo work is possessed of a much more lonesome spark, exaggerating the implied drone at the heart of the music of Dock Boggs and The Stanley Brothers…White plays wooden six-string banjo, violin, button accordion and kalimba and his voice has a high, eerie quality to it…extremely psychedelic.” --David Keenan, The Wire Tracklisting: 1. Gun Barrel Polka 2. Misinformation Shuffle 3. El Golfo 4. Something About Dreaming 5. Rye Straw 6. The Stovepipe Blues 7. No Stranger 8. Morning Sickness 9. Lord Franklin

As the sun sets on a quaint East Nashville house, a young man bares a piece of his soul. Facing the camera, sporting a silky suit jacket/shirt/slacks/fingerless gloves ensemble that announces "singer" before he's even opened his mouth, Lee Tracy Johnson settles onto his stage, the front yard. He sways to the dirge-like drum machine pulse of a synth-soaked slow jam, extends his arms as if gaining his balance, and croons in affecting, fragile earnest, "I need your love… oh baby…"

Dogs in the yard next door begin barking. A mysterious cardboard robot figure, beamed in from galaxies unknown and affixed to a tree, is less vocal. Lee doesn't acknowledge either's presence. He's busy feeling it, arms and hands gesticulating. His voice rises in falsetto over the now-quiet dogs, over the ambient noise from the street that seeps into the handheld camcorder's microphone, over the recording of his own voice played back from a boombox off-camera. After six minutes the single, continuous shot ends. In this intimate creative universe there are no re-takes. There are many more music videos to shoot, and as Lee later puts it, "The first time you do it is actually the best. Because you can never get that again. You expressing yourself from within."

"I Need Your Love" dates from a lost heyday. From some time in the '80s or early '90s, when Lee Tracy (as he was known in performance) and his music partner/producer/manager Isaac Manning committed hours upon hours of their sonic and visual ideas to tape. Embracing drum machines and synthesizers – electronics that made their personal futurism palpable – they recorded exclusively at home, live in a room into a simple cassette deck. Soul, funk, electro and new wave informed their songs, yet Lee and Isaac eschewed the confinement of conventional categories and genres, preferring to let experimentation guide them.

"Anytime somebody put out a new record they had the same instruments or the same sound," explains Isaac. "So I basically wanted to find something that's really gonna stand out away from all of the rest of 'em." Their ethos meant that every idea they came up with was at least worth trying: echoed out half-rapped exhortations over frantic techno-style beats, gospel synth soul, modal electro-funk, oddball pop reinterpretations, emo AOR balladry, nods to Prince and the Fat Boys, or arrangements that might collapse mid-song into a mess of arcade game-ish blips before rallying to reach the finish line. All of it conjoined by consistent tape hiss, and most vitally, Lee's chameleonic voice, which managed to wildly shape shift and still evoke something sincere – whether toggling between falsetto and tenor exalting Jesus's return, or punctuating a melismatic romantic adlib with a succinct, "We all know how it feels to be alone."

"People think we went to a studio," says Isaac derisively. "We never went to no studio. We didn't have the money to go to no studio! We did this stuff at home. I shot videos in my front yard with whatever we could to get things together." Sometimes Isaac would just put on an instrumental record, be it "Planet Rock" or "Don't Cry For Me Argentina" (from Evita), press "record," and let Lee improvise over it, yielding peculiar love songs, would-be patriotic anthems, or Elvis Presley or Marilyn Monroe tributes. Technical limitations and a lack of professional polish never dissuaded them. They believed they were onto something.

"That struggle," Isaac says, "made that sound sound good to me."

In the parlance of modern music criticism Lee and Isaac's dizzying DIY efforts would inevitably be described as "outsider." But "outsider" carries the burden of untold additional layers of meaning if you're Black and from the South, creating on a budget, and trying to get someone, anyone within the country music capital of the world to take your vision seriously. "What category should we put it in?" Isaac asks rhetorically. "I don't know. All I know is feeling. I ain't gonna name it nothing. It's music. If it grabs your soul and touch your heart that's what it basically is supposed to do."

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Born in 1963, the baby boy of nine siblings, Lee Tracy spent his earliest years living amidst the shotgun houses on Nashville's south side. "We was poor, man!" he says, recalling the outhouse his family used for a bathroom and the blocks of ice they kept in the kitchen to chill perishables. "But I actually don't think I really realized I was in poverty until I got grown and started thinking about it." Lee's mom worked at the Holiday Inn; his dad did whatever he had to do, from selling fruit from a horse drawn cart to bootlegging. "We didn't have much," Lee continues, "but my mother and my father got us the things we needed, the clothes on our back." By the end of the decade with the city's urban renewal programs razing entire neighborhoods to accommodate construction of the Interstate, the family moved to Edgehill Projects. Lee remembers music and art as a constant source of inspiration for he and his brothers and sisters – especially after seeing the Jackson 5 perform on Ed Sullivan. "As a small child I just knew that was what I wanted to do."

His older brother Don began musically mentoring him, introducing Lee to a variety of instruments and sounds. "He would never play one particular type of music, like R&B," says Lee. "I was surrounded by jazz, hard rock and roll, easy listening, gospel, reggae, country music; I mean I was a sponge absorbing all of that." Lee taught himself to play drums by beating on cardboard boxes, gaining a rep around the way for his timekeeping, and his singing voice. Emulating his favorites, Earth Wind & Fire and Cameo, he formed groups with other kids with era-evocative band names like Concept and TNT Connection, and emerged as the leader of disciplined rehearsals. "I made them practice," says Lee. "We practiced and practiced and practiced. Because I wanted that perfection." By high school the most accomplished of these bands would take top prize in a prominent local talent show. It was a big moment for Lee, and he felt ready to take things to the next level. But his band-mates had other ideas.

"I don't know what happened," he says, still miffed at the memory. "It must have blew they mind after we won and people started showing notice, because it's like everybody quit! I was like, where the hell did everybody go?" Lee had always made a point of interrogating prospective musicians about their intentions before joining his groups: were they really serious or just looking for a way to pick up girls? Now he understood even more the importance of finding a collaborator just as committed to the music as he was.

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Isaac Manning had spent much of his life immersed in music and the arts – singing in the church choir with his family on Nashville's north side, writing, painting, dancing, and working various gigs within the entertainment industry. After serving in the armed forces, in the early '70s he ran The Teenage Place, a music and performance venue that catered to the local youth. But he was forced out of town when word of one of his recreational routines created a stir beyond the safe haven of his bohemian circles.

"I was growing marijuana," Isaac explains. "It wasn't no business, I was smoking it myself… I would put marijuana in scrambled eggs, cornbread and stuff." His weed use originated as a form of self-medication to combat severe tooth pain. But when he began sharing it with some of the other young people he hung out with, some of who just so happened to be the kids of Nashville politicians, the cops came calling. "When I got busted," he remembers, "they were talking about how they were gonna get rid of me because they didn't want me saying nothing about they children because of the politics and stuff. So I got my family, took two raggedy cars, and left Nashville and went to Vegas."

Out in the desert, Isaac happened to meet Chubby Checker of "The Twist" fame while the singer was gigging at The Flamingo. Impressed by Isaac's zeal, Checker invited him to go on the road with him as his tour manager/roadie/valet. The experience gave Isaac a window into a part of the entertainment world he'd never encountered – a glimpse of what a true pop act's audience looked like. "Chubby Checker, none of his shows were played for Black folks," he remembers. "All his gigs were done at high-class white people areas." Returning home after a few years with Chubby, Isaac was properly motivated to make it in Music City. He began writing songs and scouting around Nashville for local talent anywhere he could find it with an expressed goal: "Find someone who can deliver your songs the way you want 'em delivered and make people feel what you want them to feel."

One day while walking through Edgehill Projects Isaac heard someone playing the drums in a way that made him stop and take notice. "The music was so tight, just the drums made me feel like, oh I'm-a find this person," he recalls. "So I circled through the projects until I found who it was.

"That's how I met him – Lee Tracy. When I found him and he started singing and stuff, I said, ohhh, this is somebody different."

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Theirs was a true complementary partnership: young Lee possessed the raw talent, the older Isaac the belief. "He's really the only one besides my brother and my family that really seen the potential in me," says Lee. "He made me see that I could do it."

Isaac long being a night owl, his house also made for a fertile collaborative environment – a space where there always seemed to be a new piece of his visual art on display: paintings, illustrations, and dolls and figures (including an enigmatic cardboard robot). Lee and Issac would hang out together and talk, listen to music, conjure ideas, and smoke the herb Isaac had resumed growing in his yard. "It got to where I could trust him, he could trust me," Isaac says of their bond. They also worked together for hours on drawings, spreading larges rolls of paper on the walls and sketching faces with abstract patterns and imagery: alien-like beings, tri-horned horse heads, inverted Janus-like characters where one visage blurred into the other.

Soon it became apparent that they didn't need other collaborators; self-sufficiency was the natural way forward. At Isaac's behest Lee, already fed up with dealing with band musicians, began playing around with a poly-sonic Yamaha keyboard at the local music store. "It had everything on it – trumpet, bass, drums, organ," remembers Lee. "And that's when I started recording my own stuff."

The technology afforded Lee the flexibility and independence he craved, setting him on a path other bedroom musicians and producers around the world were simultaneously following through the '80s into the early '90s. Saving up money from day jobs, he eventually supplemented the Yamaha Isaac had gotten him with Roland and Casio drum machines and a Moog. Lee was living in an apartment in Hillside at that point caring for his dad, who'd been partially paralyzed since early in life. In the evenings up in his second floor room, the music put him in a zone where he could tune out everything and lose himself in his ideas.

"Oh I loved it," he recalls. "I would really experiment with the instruments and use a lot of different sound effects. I was looking for something nobody else had. I wanted something totally different. And once I found the sound I was looking for, I would just smoke me a good joint and just let it go, hit the record button." More potent a creative stimulant than even Isaac's weed was the holistic flow and spontaneity of recording. Between sessions at Isaac's place and Lee's apartment, their volume of output quickly ballooned.

"We was always recording," says Lee. "That's why we have so much music. Even when I went to Isaac's and we start creating, I get home, my mind is racing, I gotta start creating, creating, creating. I remember there were times when I took a 90-minute tape from front to back and just filled it up."

"We never practiced," says Isaac. "See, that was just so odd about the whole thing. I could relate to him, and tell him about the songs I had ideas for and everything and stuff. And then he would bring it back or whatever, and we'd get together and put it down." Once the taskmaster hell bent on rehearsing, Lee had flipped a full 180. Perfection was no longer an aspiration, but the enemy of inspiration.

"I seen where practicing and practicing got me," says Lee. "A lot of musicians you get to playing and they gotta stop, they have to analyze the music. But while you analyzing you losing a lot of the greatness of what you creating. Stop analyzing what you play, just play! And it'll all take shape."

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"I hope you understood the beginning of the record because this was invented from a dream I had today… (You tell me, I'll tell you, we'll figure it out together)" – Lee Tracy and Isaac Manning, "Hope You Understand"

Lee lets loose a maniacal cackle when he acknowledges that the material that he and Isaac recorded was by anyone's estimation pretty out there. It's the same laugh that commences "Hope You Understand" – a chaotic transmission that encapsulates the duality at the heart of their music: a stated desire to reach people and a compulsion to go as leftfield as they saw fit.

"We just did it," says Lee. "We cut the music on and cut loose. I don't sit around and write. I do it by listening, get a feeling, play the music, and the lyrics and stuff just come out of me."

The approach proved adaptable to interpreting other artists' material. While recording a cover of Whitney Houston's pop ballad "Saving All My Love For You," Lee played Whitney's version in his headphones as he laid down his own vocals – partially following the lyrics, partially using them as a departure point. The end result is barely recognizable compared with the original, Lee and Isaac having switched up the time signature and reinvented the melody along the way towards morphing a slick mainstream radio standard into something that sounds solely their own.

"I really used that song to get me started," says Lee. "Then I said, well I need something else, something is missing. Something just came over me. That's when I came up with 'Is It What You Want.'"

The song would become the centerpiece of Lee and Isaac's repertoire. Pushed along by a percolating metronomic Rhythm King style beat somewhere between a military march and a samba, "Is It What You Want" finds Lee pleading the sincerity of his commitment to a potential love interest embellished by vocal tics and hiccups subtlely reminiscent of his childhood hero MJ. Absent chord changes, only synth riffs gliding in and out like apparitions, the song achieves a lingering lo-fi power that leaves you feeling like it's still playing, somewhere, even after the fade out.

"I don't know, it's like a real spiritual song," Lee reflects. "But it's not just spiritual. To me the more I listen to it it's like about everything that you do in your everyday life, period. Is it what you want? Do you want a car or you don't want a car? Do you want Jesus or do you want the Devil? It's basically asking you the question. Can't nobody answer the question but you yourself."

In 1989 Lee won a lawsuit stemming from injuries sustained from a fight he'd gotten into. He took part of the settlement money and with Isaac pressed up "Saving All My Love For You" b/w "Is It What You Want" as a 45 single. Isaac christened the label One Chance Records. "Because that's all we wanted," he says with a laugh, "one chance."

Isaac sent the record out to radio stations and major labels, hoping for it to make enough noise to get picked up nationally. But the response he and Lee were hoping for never materialized. According to Isaac the closest the single got to getting played on the radio is when a disk jock from a local station made a highly unusual announcement on air: "The dude said on the radio, 107.5 – 'We are not gonna play 'Is It What You Want.' We cracked up! Wow, that's deep.

"It was a whole racist thing that was going on," he reflects. "So we just looked over and kept on going. That was it. That was about the way it goes… If you were Black and you were living in Nashville and stuff, that's the way you got treated." Isaac already knew as much from all the times he'd brought he and Lee's tapes (even their cache of country music tunes) over to Music Row to try to drum up interest to no avail.

"Isaac, he really worked his ass off," says Lee. "He probably been to every record place down on Music Row." Nashville's famed recording and music business corridor wasn't but a few blocks from where Lee grew up. Close enough, he remembers, for him to ride his bike along its back alleys and stumble upon the occasional random treasure, like a discarded box of harmonicas. Getting in through the front door, however, still felt a world away.

"I just don't think at the time our music fell into a category for them," he concedes. "It was before its time."

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Lee stopped making music some time in the latter part of the '90s, around the time his mom passed away and life became increasingly tough to manage. "When my mother died I had a nervous breakdown," he says, "So I shut down for a long time. I was in such a sadness frame of mind. That's why nobody seen me. I had just disappeared off the map." He fell out of touch with Isaac, and in an indication of just how bad things had gotten for him, lost track of all the recordings they'd made together. Music became a distant memory.

Fortunately, Isaac kept the faith. In a self-published collection of his poetry – paeans to some of his favorite entertainment and public figures entitled Friends and Dick Clark – he'd written that he believed "music has a life of its own." But his prescience and presence of mind were truly manifested in the fact that he kept an archive of he and Lee's work. As perfectly imperfect as "Is It What You Want" now sounds in a post-Personal Space world, Lee and Isaac's lone official release was in fact just a taste. The bulk of the Is It What You Want album is culled from the pair's essentially unheard home recordings – complete songs, half-realized experiments, Isaac's blue monologues and pronouncements et al – compiled, mixed and programmed in the loose and impulsive creative spirit of their regular get-togethers from decades ago. The rest of us, it seems, may have finally caught up to them.

On the prospect of at long last reaching a wider audience, Isaac says simply, "I been trying for a long time, it feels good." Ever the survivor, he adds, "The only way I know how to make it to the top is to keep climbing. If one leg break on the ladder, hey, you gotta fix it and keep on going… That's where I be at. I'll kill death to make it out there."

For Lee it all feels akin to a personal resurrection: "It's like I was in a tomb and the tomb was opened and I'm back… Man, it feels so great. I feel like I'm gonna jump out of my skin." Success at this stage of his life, he realizes, probably means something different than what it did back when he was singing and dancing in Isaac's front yard. "What I really mean by 'making it,'" he explains isn't just the music being heard but, "the story being told."

Occasionally Lee will pull up "Is It What You Want" on YouTube on his phone, put on his headphones, and listen. He remembers the first time he heard his recorded voice. How surreal it was, how he thought to himself, "Is that really me?" What would he say to that younger version of himself now?

"I would probably tell myself, hang in there, don't give up. Keep striving for the goal. And everything will work out."

Despite what's printed on the record label, sometimes you do get more than one chance.

International Anthem proudly presents Step on Step, a double LP collection of newly unearthed solo home recordings created by enigmatic producer, arranger, and composer Charles Stepney in the basement of his home on the Southside of Chicago during the years before his untimely death in 1976. Stepney’s signature “baroque soul” sound is known to many as it’s heard in his prismatic orchestral arrangements for Rotary Connection, Minnie Riperton, Howlin Wolf, Terry Callier, Earth, Wind & Fire, and many more. His sound has been used by countless samplers in the hip-hop world including Kanye West, The Fugees, and MF Doom. But in comparison to the post-mortem renown of his sound, or the artists he supported while he was alive, Stepney is a greatly underappreciated figure… a genius relegated to the shadows.

Step on Step is Stepney’s eponymous debut album, featuring 23 bare-bones, demo-style home recordings, most of which are Stepney originals that were never again recorded by him or any other artist. Highlights from those original works include “Denim Groove,” which hears Stepney on piano and congas alongside his first instrument (the vibraphone), and “Look B4U Leap,” one of several kinetic lo-fi dance numbers that feature Stepney having fun with an early-gen Moog synthesizer. It also features prototypical, seedling-style demos of Stepney compositions for Earth, Wind & Fire, including “That’s The Way of The World,” “Imagination,” and “On Your Face,” as well as the original version of “Black Gold,” which would eventually be recorded by Rotary Connection (as “I Am The Black Gold of The Sun”).

A collection of home recordings Charles Stepney -- the late composer/producer who worked with Earth Wind & Fire, Deniece Williams, Rotary Connection, Minnie Ripperton, Muddy Waters, Howlin Wolf, Terry Callier, and more, and was sampled by Kanye West, Madlib, MF Doom, A Tribe Called Quest, The Fugees, and more -- called Step On Step is coming out September 9 via International Anthem.

In the music business, there are certain sidemen — players who back the stars — who play with such prowess that they gain fame of their own. By all rights, Herman Hitson should be one of those people. Over the years, he played with Jimi Hendrix, James Brown, Joe Tex, Bobby Womack, Wilson Pickett, Garnet Mimms, Major Lance, Jackie Wilson, the Drifters, the Shirelles, Hank Ballard & the Midnighters and many others. “I played behind Jackie Wilson and Sam Cooke on the same doggone show,” he said, recalling one night at the Royal Peacock. Along the way, he picked up every style of music that was popular in the early years of his career. Arguably, the original seeds of psychedelic rock were planted after Hitson and Hendrix became running buddies in the early 1960s. Both were playing the Chitlin’ Circuit, tours that would load somewhere between ten and two dozen African American musicians on a bus and tour the South, playing Black nightclubs. The two spent weeks together, Herman says. As the 1970s rolled in, Herman wound up playing funk guitar, recording some tracks with the Ohio Players and releasing some of his own funk singles, including the powerful “Ain’t No Other Way,” a number firmly in the James Brown vein which he reprised on ‘Let The Gods Sing.’ In the mid-1960s, he moved to New York City, where he once again hooked up with Hendrix. Early in 1966, Herman began work on his own psychedelic rock album under the title “Free Spirit.” Hermon sang and played lead guitar, and Hendrix played bass on a few tracks that went unreleased by ATCO at the time. Those recordings wound up being the source of a controversy in the 1980s that brought Hermon’s name into the limelight in a different way. The title song of the album, “Free Spirit,” was released on two albums of music allegedly recorded by Hendrix and then “lost” to history. “That’s my song,” Herman says today. "He Hendrix didn’t never play no lead on nothing of mine. And he didn’t sing on nothing of mine. In fact, back then he thought he couldn’t sing. We had to keep pushing him". Jimi would say, ‘I can’t sing.’ I’d say, ‘Man, you don’t have to be Wilson Pickett. All you got to do is sing like you sing.” Recorded and co-produced by Bruce Watson at his Delta Sounds Studio in Memphis, Hitson’s backed on the new album by guitarist and co-producer Will Sexton and some of Memphis’ best musicians.

Ali Farka Touré trekked the world, bringing his beloved Malian music to the masses. Dubbed "the African John Lee Hooker," one could hear strong connections between the two; both employed a bluesy style of play with gritty textures that elicit calm and fury in equal measure. While the influence of Black blues music prevailed, Touré created a West African blend of 'desert blues' that garnered Grammy awards and widespread reverence. Though he transcended in 2006, Ali's musical legacy lives on through his son, Vieux aka "the Hendrix of the Sahara," an accomplished guitarist and champion of Malian music in his own right. On Ali, his collaborative album with Khruangbin, Vieux pays homage to his father by recreating some of his most resonant work, putting new twists on it while maintaining the original's integrity. The result is a rightful ode to a legend. Ali isn't just a greatest hits compilation. It's a lullaby, a remembrance of Ali's life through known highlights and B-sides from his catalog. It is a testament to what happens when creativity is approached through open arms and open hearts. "To me, music is magic, it is spontaneous, it is the energy between people," Vieux says. "I think Khruangbin understands this very well." The genesis of the album dates back to 2019, when Khruangbin, coming off their breakthrough album Con Todo el Mundo, was beginning to playto bigger crowds. The record was finished in 2021, as a global pandemic shuttered businesses and forced us to take stock of what Earth was becoming. Indirectly, Ali captures this as a moment of peace within a raging storm, a conversation between past and present without allegiance to suffering. Now, given Khruangbin's reach as a unit with legions of fans (including the likes of Jay-Z and Paul McCartney), they're poised to bring Malian music to broader groups of listeners. Ali is a masterful work in which the love surrounding it is just as vital as the music itself, driving it to unforeseen places; Vieux and Khruangbin are spreading the good word to a completely new generation. "I hope it takes them somewhere new, or puts them in a place they haven't felt or heard," Lee says. "It is about the love of new friendship and making something beautiful together," Vieux continues. "It is about pouring your love into something old to make it new again. In the end and in a word it is love, that's all."

Ali Farka Touré trekked the world, bringing his beloved Malian music to the masses. Dubbed "the African John Lee Hooker," one could hear strong connections between the two; both employed a bluesy style of play with gritty textures that elicit calm and fury in equal measure. While the influence of Black blues music prevailed, Touré created a West African blend of 'desert blues' that garnered Grammy awards and widespread reverence. Though he transcended in 2006, Ali's musical legacy lives on through his son, Vieux aka "the Hendrix of the Sahara," an accomplished guitarist and champion of Malian music in his own right. On Ali, his collaborative album with Khruangbin, Vieux pays homage to his father by recreating some of his most resonant work, putting new twists on it while maintaining the original's integrity. The result is a rightful ode to a legend. Ali isn't just a greatest hits compilation. It's a lullaby, a remembrance of Ali's life through known highlights and B-sides from his catalog. It is a testament to what happens when creativity is approached through open arms and open hearts. "To me, music is magic, it is spontaneous, it is the energy between people," Vieux says. "I think Khruangbin understands this very well." The genesis of the album dates back to 2019, when Khruangbin, coming off their breakthrough album Con Todo el Mundo, was beginning to playto bigger crowds. The record was finished in 2021, as a global pandemic shuttered businesses and forced us to take stock of what Earth was becoming. Indirectly, Ali captures this as a moment of peace within a raging storm, a conversation between past and present without allegiance to suffering. Now, given Khruangbin's reach as a unit with legions of fans (including the likes of Jay-Z and Paul McCartney), they're poised to bring Malian music to broader groups of listeners. Ali is a masterful work in which the love surrounding it is just as vital as the music itself, driving it to unforeseen places; Vieux and Khruangbin are spreading the good word to a completely new generation. "I hope it takes them somewhere new, or puts them in a place they haven't felt or heard," Lee says. "It is about the love of new friendship and making something beautiful together," Vieux continues. "It is about pouring your love into something old to make it new again. In the end and in a word it is love, that's all."

Vessels promise an escape from responsibilities towards the landscape, they facilitate our avoidance of conscientiously feeling our attachment to the mainland. The visual nothingness of deep water and clean horizons fools the brain and delivers a treacherous feeling of independence.

We ignore the truths expressed by landscapes, so we mould them into urban projects for our strange desires. We clean up the irrationalities by which nature constructs itself. Then we look up to the skies, where the abstractions we have to draw in our minds should reside and inspire us.

We peer into the various shades of blue above the waters, the emptiness guarantees possibilities of our abstractions becoming realities. The apathetic stare into neat, straight horizons transforms our ancestral landscape into dirt and danger, when looking back to it.

To be on a ship under quarantine, is an upside down experience, for the promised escape has turned into a forced paralysis. The Lima flag (? - ? ?, in morse code), presented on the outer sleeve of this record, indirectly demands of all passengers to stay aboard and contemplate their escape from the land they now desire to return to.

These four piano pieces could be considered as a classical sonata (allegroadagio-scherzo-rondo). In a recital they are accompanied by four video pieces by artist Karl Van Welden. We picked the videos out of his extensive archive, choosing images intuitively while listening to the piano music. The theme of ships relating to quarantine thus came unannounced but of course, we were in the middle of the pandemic at the time.

Solastalgia was already waiting as a title for the new album before march 2020. I first came across the word in Underland, a book by Robert Macfarlane (2019). He defines the word as "The unhappiness of people whose landscapes are being transformed about them by forces beyond their control". These forces and this unhappiness are, I believe, what constitutes the modern human. Solastalgia, about the music We haven't found them yet, the words to talk to each other about the worrying signs of climate change. Feeling worried when walking on autumn leaves in the beginning of August should be completely normal. But how do we communicate about it? We don't want to be just the next hysterical doomer.

With this music I try to focus on the climate pain itself, gently inviting the listener to investigate their latent feelings of unease and growing concerns about the environment. As in real life, we circumvent the real issues because they are just too big, there are no words, no expressions yet.

This album tries, in four different attempts, to carve out a path towards communicating about a deeper pain that eventually will connect us all. My general method is to start with a comforting melody, full of fake nostalgia, which, after changing gear to autodestruct mode, morphs into a painful question mark.

The first part sets off with an idyllic melody, accompanied by repeated notes, as a far, muted echo of an alarm. The melody starts to explain itself painfully into a dissonant whirlwind in the high register, sounding not unlike Ravel's Gaspard de la Nuit bravura. In the second piece a warm Beatles like melody (And I love her) gets confronted with the weird hippie mantra of a later Lennon song War is over, if you want it. Sentences get reduced to syllables and result in lonely notes that crash and shiver under the burden of too much meaning. Like Shostakovich's latest work, the Sonata for viola and piano.

The descending melody of Bach's Erbarme dich, Mein Gott is echoed in the upper and lower voicings of the third piece, juxtaposed to a typical, threatening Ennio Morricone Western dotted rhythm accompaniment. This rhythm eventually evolves into citing the 1972 Captain Beefheart early ecological warning song Blabber and Smoke (there's a big pane/pain in your window, it's gonna hang you all,... dangle you all). Towards the middle of the piece, the music explodes and the three layers get dispersed all over the keyboard in a virtuosic maelstrom towards another painful question mark. The bitter answer is going back to business with a barely noticeable citation of the first notes of the RZA's Liquid Swords album.

The final piece is some kind of mantra, the same 7/4 pulse all throughout the piece. The dampers of all A's and B's on the keyboard are released by the middle pedal, thus sustaining an ever present resonance. Melodic cells alternate in shifting quantifications with small, bell like percussive cluster playing. While composing this piece an image crept up: walking out of the church on Sunday morning, tolling bells enthusiastically moderating the churchgoers' small talk in the local dialect. Apparently I have tried to evoke this kind of conversation, but injecting it with fictitious alarming conversation topics, the contemporary.

Frederik Croene (August '22)

Old-School-Hip-Hop how it has to be! Creamy soul samples and sing-along choruses. With this release we celebrate 2 things: our (Lonestar’s) 20th anniversary (yes, we’re old!) and the 10th anniversary of this excellent album. It was originally released only in a small edition on vinyl done by the band. Now it gets a proper re-release with an exclusive-coloured version. But it’s limited to only 300 copies. So be fast or regret it later! "Party people hold onto your hats!" Ugly Duckling presents their fifth full-length album Moving at Breakneck Speed. After more than a decade in the music business, Young Einstein, Andy Cooper and Dizzy Dustin are well accustomed to the recording process. For their latest LP, the boys dug deep into their bag of tricks to create what they feel is their most dynamic and complete release to date. Moving at Breakneck Speed is an exciting and musically exotic adventure story that has our desperate heroes circling the globe to outrun an evil gang of super-criminals determined to put an end to UD once and for all. The record is made up of 14 power packed tracks that showcase Ugly Duckling’s classic production sound as well as the flavourful and humorously soulful vocal styles of Dizzy and Andy. “By the time you work on your fifth record, you ought to know how to do it, right?” asks Andy, “I think we put all of the pieces together to make a really, really good album”. We've made a habit of finding talented artists to create our artwork and this album is certainly no exception. This time around we enlisted the help of Justin Ridge. A native of smoggy Southern California, Justin has enjoyed making silly drawings and directing on animated shows like Avatar: The Last Airbender, Star Wars: Clone Wars, The Cleveland Show, and most recently Black Dynamite: The Animated Series. You can see more of his stuff on his website at justinridgeart. It has been a pleasure working with Justin on this venture and look forward to seeing what the future has in store for this very gifted animator. Also contributing his talents to this album is photographer Noel J. Hadley. We have Noel to thank for the awesome photos that you see displayed throughout the site. Noel's specialty is actually wedding photos, but he was kind enough to join us on a fun-filled afternoon in Los Angeles to capture the theme images for the new album. He was also along for the ride during the filming of the Elevation video, set to be released later this year. You can check out photos from the video shoot on Noel's blog. In addition, there are a number of people who donated their time and effort to help bring this album to life. Comedian TJ Miller can be seen in the Elevation video, a combination live-action/cartoon which will be animated by Justin Ridge. We would also like to thank Andy Carpenter, Jon St. James, Josh Barlow, Josh Fischel, Victor, Dago, Tamika, Tiko, Hiroko, Missy, Brian, Ashley-Dominique, Clout, and the entire Tru Beatz Crew for their contributions. You are all valued members of the UD family. Track listing: Keep Movin’; Momentum; $100 Weekend; Elevation; I Wonder Where She Is Now; One Horse Town; Anything Can Happen (In The Big City); How It Used To Be; Einstein Got A Monkey; Run For The Light; Sprint!; The Homecoming; The Breakneck Theme; Endless Summer

Recorded live in 10 days, with minimal overdubs, Shuttered Dreams is a blast of uncompromising truth reminding us to stay awake when the vultures are circling. The album was mixed by Sean Genockey (Shame, Richard Ashcroft, The Who, Black Crowes).

Margate in March 2021 was a time to test your resolve. If the wind howling round the closed down shops and cafes didn’t send you spinning out of control the out of season coastal melancholy could drag you down as surely as any dead eye mermaid. Add in a murderous virus and a frozen gig scene and it was a time to stay frosty and fight off the demons. Dan had some experience to draw on.

“Instead of baking banana bread or knitting, I decided to upgrade my home studio but after a couple of months of writing it was obvious that the songs needed to breathe as much as I did. They’re all about real people and raw feelings and I felt they wouldn’t get justice by being turned into zeroes and ones so early in life “.

It was decided to record the masters live with his new band featuring Dom Hall (drums), Henry Gabbott (bass) and Freya Warsi (vocals) and engineer friend, Harry Armstrong. Armed only with a Vox Marauder, a skeleton recording studio, and a pad of lyrics, Dan moved in with The Tenants to The Tom Thumb Theatre which like everywhere was closed for business but had just received Arts Council recovery funding and was offering residencies for artists.

“Musically I wanted to try to work within a strict palette of sound, using the same acoustic and electric guitars for every song, and Henry’s Wurlitzer and Mellotron to flesh things out a bit.” Dan explains, “We played all of the songs live, sometimes up to sixty or seventy times until we were happy with a take, we might then add a bit of extra electric, percussion or backing vocals, but what you hear on the record is pretty much what was happening in the room. That makes me feel proud, as all the records I love listening to were made in that way.”

A companion album to Jamaican dub singer Horace Andy's 'Midnight Rocker', 'Midnight Scorchers' is an artful sequel to the hugely acclaimed album featuring dancehall reimaginations from Adrian Sherwood, practically the modern messiah of dub. Sherwood was already doing masterful work on the original album, using live studio instrumentation to make Andy's voice mor vibrant and powerful - leading to multiple five star reviews. 'Midnight scorchers' takes a soundsystem approach to the proceedings, adding MC features, new tracks and stripped back re-imaginings of the tracks into the more traditional reggae style of dub that Andy would've ended up recording if not for the masterful production that Sherwood brought to the table. Housed on a limited transparent orange disc and stunning artwork, this is a huge dub release and not one to miss out on.

For EPMmusic's 100th release we're throwing it back to another milestone. Last year, EPM celebrated 20 years in the business of Digital Distribution and Rights Management with a series of vinyl EPs and a compilation on our in-house label. Now we've enlisted Shed, CYRK, Inigo Kennedy and Works of Intent – all artists who we've had the pleasure to work with in the last 2 decades – to remix some of those 'EPM20' tracks.

On the A-side, the highly acclaimed and always uncompromising Shed (one of the many aliases of Berlin's René Pawlowitz) delivers a raw and tribal take on Regis 'Beyond The Reach Of Time'. From one legend to a current Electro phenomenon CYRK, fresh off the back of their collaborative 'Freundschaft' album on Burial Soil turn their hand to Freddie Fresh's 'ProMars' adding their own style of tuff 'lectro funk.

Flip over for one of the UK's Techno warriors, Inigo Kennedy, as the Asymmetric man goes all out on his ominously epic and bass laden remix of 'Io' by Bryan Chapman. To close the EP is UK electronic artist and DJ, Works of Intent (f.k.a. R.O.S.H) with a twisted remix of Paul Mac's 'Nothing Remains' bringing in elements of rave, breaks and sci fi sonics.

"Kontakt Audio and Infinite Fog Productions proudly present the 25-th anniversary reissue of the one of most unique albums on avantgarde/neoclassic music – Ihor Tsymbrovsky – Come, Angel.

Recorded in 1995 in Ukraine and released in 1996 just as a small run on cassette on Polish label Koka Records, the album without any promotion little by little became legendary and madly wanted by many fans all around the world. And from the first seconds, you can hear why it is so. Pretty hard to explain what songs play Ihor, moreover that would be senseless. “Come, Angel” is one of those albums which are so unique that takes you in a vacuum of verbal forms in an attempt to describe the record. In a few words, this is definitely very intimate and deeply emotional music with an absolutely incredible voice. The first associations could forward you to Antony Hegarty from Antony And The Johnsons, Marc Almond, Arthur Russell, Baby Dee, Bjork. Experienced listener familiar with these great artist knows that all of them are inimitable and Ihor Tsymbrovsky is totally inimitable as well.

In 2016 well-known German label Offen Music published 3 tracks from the album “Come, Angel” which brought a lot of attention to Ihor’s music. This time we’re excited to announce the first full album reissue on CD, Double vinyl, and tapes. Beside the full version of the album, you’ll find an exclusive bonus song from the cult compilation “Music The World Does Not See” – Nefryt Records 2000.

~

“For me, music is a certain way of cultural survival. Here I do not set myself theoretical problems or experiments.
The connotations of life are important: rhythms, melodies, their connection with language, poetry, real life, virtual or imaginary space. It is very important to me how the recitation of work sounds, how consonant and vowel sounds dissolve in singing, how they combine musically. I understand sound space as a field of my interpretations, preferences, priorities, and I do not use direct imitation. If I hear a melody or a musical phrase, and it is fixed in my memory, later I extract it in my own interpretation, as already formed by this field. In art, the goal is in the work itself, not outside it. For me, the expression “To be is to create a new reality” is another winged reality.” – Ihor Tsymbrovsky

~~

“Tsymbrovsky – an architect, musician, a poet, an artist; one of the most underestimated musicians in Ukraine’s artistic world. Many critics pulled their hair out trying to get to the bottom of Tsymbrovsky’s music. It has been inspired by jazz, minimal, modern, ethnic, and meditation music. Tsymbrovsky is not a virtuoso, however, he creates whole worlds with his astonishing falsetto. Although Cymbrovsky’s music is simple it is made of many elements. Filled with magic and unusual sensitivity and warmth it can be therapeutic for the listener. This is that kind of music, which can be listened to many times – in a different way each time.” – Koka Records.

~~~

“Igor Tsymbrovsky’s only album “Come Angel” (1995) still remains perhaps the most bizarre phenomenon in Ukrainian music since independence. The story of its author is a vivid example of cultural amnesia. In the pre-Internet era, Tsymbrovsky was a prominent figure in the Ukrainian underground, performed on the “Red Route”, went on tour in Germany. However, he left a minimum of evidence of his activity and became a silent legend for a few. We talked to Igor to find out where he came from and where he was going.

The album “Come Angel” is eight compositions performed with a falsetto to the accompaniment of a piano. (Tsymbrovsky’s falsetto is a legacy of the Lviv Dudaryk choir, where he sang as a child.) It would seem that it could be easier. But, despite such ascetic tools, Tsymbrovsky managed to create a phenomenon unique to Ukrainian culture. Some people compare him to Benjamin Clementine and Anthony Hegarty, but no comparison will be exhaustive. The lyrics of the songs attract special attention: two of them were written by Tsymbrovsky himself, the others demonstrate his remarkable literary knowledge. Here and Guillaume Apollinaire, and Mikhaijl Semenko, and even less obvious poets, such as Mykola Vorobyov or Jozsef Attila.

The young performer’s first performance took place in 1987 in the club of the Forestry Institute. It is quite symbolic that this room used to be a Jesuit church because such a chamber environment suits his songs about angels much better than the noise of big festivals. However, there were also many festivals in Tsymbrovsky’s career: in 1989, Chorna Rada and Chervona Ruta, in 1991, Kharkiv’s Nova Scena and Ukrainian Nights in Gdansk, Alternativa in Lviv. Ihor calls his first performances musical performances and notes that they sounded completely different. Unfortunately, we will never know exactly how.” – Amnesia

~~~~

“The magicians at Dusseldorf’s Offen Music pluck a madly beguiling pearl of late-night songcraft by Ukraine’s Ihor Tsymbrovsky to follow their vital releases by Toresch and Rex Ilusivii. Come Angel was first recorded in Lviv, Ukraine, in 1995, and issued on cassette by Poland’s Koka Records in 1996. There appears to be no prior mention of the release or artist on the internet and quite how it came into of Offen Music possession is not disclosed, and that only ratchets the record’s enigma to astonishing degrees once you’ve heard the music. In a quivering, high register, androgynous trill, Ihor Tsymbrovsky beckons heavenly beings in the remarkable A-side Come, Angel against a swirling backdrop of phasing, subtly delayed organ. It was recorded in one take (this is the 2nd version), and, if we’re not mistaken, you can hear the keys being pressed rhythmically in the background, which seems to be the song’s only tangible connection to this mortal world as Ihor vaults octaves high and close-in-the-mix with the sort of alien, dreamlike vocal that requires pinching oneself to make sure you’re awake. Spellbinding is definitely the word. On the other side he (we’re assured it is a ‘he’ in the promo text) sets two poems by Mykola Vorobyov and Mykhal Semenko, respectively, to emphatic piano keys, this time more shy of FX save for some delay, placing that willowing, avian vocal at a dreamy arms reach in Roses for the Poet, and with a sort of liturgical dark jazz feel, sorta like Lewis repenting his sins as a castrato monk, in the spare atmosphere in By the Sea. This is gold-seal business, we tell ya. Clock the clips and clear some swooning room.” – Boomkat

credits:
Music By – Ihor Tsymbrovsky
Lyrics By: Ihor Tsymbrovsky (tracks: C2, D1)
Atilla Joszef (tracks: B1)
Mychajl Semenko (tracks: B2, C1,C3, D2)
Mykoła Worobjow (tracks: A1,A2)
Engineer – Edward Hryhorjew
Remastering – Ihor Tsymbrovsky"

Chicago-born composer, producer and arranger Charles Stepney is known to some for his work with Earth, Wind & Fire, Deniece Williams, and Ramsey Lewis, or for his work with Chess Records in the 1960s, where he was an essential creative force behind seminal recordings by Rotary Connection, Minnie Riperton, Marlena Shaw, Muddy Waters, Howlin Wolf, Terry Callier, The Dells, The Emotions, and many many more. In the decades since his untimely death in 1976, the presence of his name in liner notes and on vinyl labels has become a seal of quality for record collectors, music historians, and aficionados, while his sound has been used by countless samplers in the hip-hop world including Kanye West, A Tribe Called Quest, The Fugees, MF Doom, and Madlib. But in comparison to the post-mortem renown of his sound, or the music he created and the artists he supported while he was alive, Stepney is a greatly under-appreciated figure... a genius relegated to the shadows.

Very limited vinyl pressing, 500 copies in a full colour single outer sleeve and full colour printed lyric inner sleeve, housing a 2-colour blue and yellow cosmic swirl vinyl. Full download included as well. Blacklab are back. The self-proclaimed ‘Doom witch duo from Osaka’ are set to drop their 3rd album ‘In A Bizarre Dream’ this summer. Their debut ‘Under the Strawberry Moon 2.0’ saw them taking Sabbath inspired doom, mashing it with a Japanese sensibility and a fuzzed-up groove. It certainly caused a stir, but only hinted at their potential. Album two ‘Abyss’ added to the mix. A Stooges like squalor to the riffs, dollops of lo-fi hardcore punk and loose riffing, pointing the way towards a signature sound. So what of the ‘difficult’ third album? Not so difficult at all it seems. ‘In A Bizarre Dream’ ups the ante considerably, to let rip and define what Blacklab are about. The combined talents of Jun Morino on production and Wayne Adams (Big Lad, Green Lung, Pet Brick, John, Cold In Berlin) on the mix have conspired to produce a towering beast of a record. A real step forward for the ‘Doom Witch Duo’. The drums have a humungous ‘Fugazi’ like welly, and the guitars are a boiling maelstrom of fuzz dense riffola and warped psychedelics, with added synth. Yuko’s throat shredding snarls are as mean as a pissed off Satan, and melodious, often within the same song. This is doom meets hardcore punk, hooky melodies, and killer riffs, all cranked up to the max. Japan has always had a special take on ‘noise’ and ‘heavy’ and with ‘In A Bizarre Dream’ Blacklab add their own spin to that tradition. Gone is the lo-fi approach, here is Blacklab in full effect. ‘Cold Rain’ and ‘Abyss Woods’ (debuted at their storming set at London’s Desert Fest and appearing here in its full version) are two nuggets of epic fuzz heavy doom with added screamo and a neat and canny grasp of melody at its core. Very much a Blacklab trademark. ‘Dark Clouds’ is D-beat fuelled hardcore, fierce and ferocious, with Chia’s rolling thunder drumming underpinning the distorted guitar. It’s pretty exhilarating stuff that shifts the mood perfectly. ‘Evil I’ is just that, a riff as evil as it gets, morphing into a chugging punk wig out. Then followed by ‘Evil II’ a breather, almost mellow, melancholy, with layers of dark overdrive threatening to explode beneath a sweet yet menacing vocal. Then, the mid-point of the album drops a real surprise. Yuko has said before that the band’s name is a combination of her two favourite bands, Black Sabbath and Stereolab. Odd bedfellows to be sure, but if you want to know what that combination might sound like ... here it is. ‘Crows, Sparrows and Cats’ actually features Laetitia Sadier of Stereolab, no less, providing the lead vocal, adding a layer of cool over Blacklab’s Hawkwind meets krautrock sludge. It’s a stoner groove with pop at its heart ...Sludge Pop even, a surprising gem amongst the maelstrom of sound around it. The skewed, sludgecore of ‘Lost’ with its push-pull riffs and rolling thunder drumming, signals that it’s back to business as usual. And after the brief atmospheric instrumental interlude that gives the album its title, comes ‘Monochrome Rainbow’ a huge beast of a track so simple, yet so seductive, from its filtered bass intro to its massive ebb and flow groove and stomping ending. The vocals are all mystery and melody, and the music is kind of a Groundhogs meets Goatsnake ten-ton fuzz-fest, with a singalong, wave your arms in the air chorus. The new Japanese Doom-blues, and what could be the album’s defining moment. ‘In A Bizarre Dream’ closes with ‘Collapse’ verging on noise rock, complete with throat shredding vocals and a crushing wall of guitars, that switch from a stoner groove to full on punk assault, teetering on mayhem before finally ending with the sound of Yuko switching off her fuzz pedal. Perfect. Blacklab have negotiated that ‘difficult’ third album with aplomb and have created a sound that, despite their many influences, is all their own.

(2022 Repress)

"The story: "few years ago in rehab - everything was forbidden there, including music, and for several months I learned to listen to music in my head and remembered the television game, called Field of Miracles, or rather I remembered the sound with which the wheel spins; this is a cult TV program in Russia.

Having returned from rehabilitation we got down to business. We took samples from this program, some changed beyond recognition, some rethought. We recorded this release with a balearic mood, despite the fact that at that moment it was winter and there were severe frosts."

One of the last great albums of the first wave of Peruvian rock, originally released in 1974, linking psych-tinged rock with Afro-Latin American beats and folk pop. This first record by (former Traffic Sound and Los Nuevos Shain's member) Zulu was also his last and one of the most enigmatic albums released in Peru in the '70s, as the artist vanished into the religious path, making sure his music got as unnoticed as possible... Reissued for the first time with the collaboration of Zulu, including extensive liner notes and one extra track. DESCRIPTION: The first record by Zulu was also his last. Shortly after releasing it in 1974, the artist withdrew from the music scene and never returned. 46 years later, his music still sounds out of time. His musical eclecticism heralded a different era and linked rock with Afro-Latin American beats and pop. His debut and only LP is one of the last great albums of the first wave of Peruvian rock. No other original records of this type were released in Peru until the early 80s. In the 70s, in Peru, most rock groups sang in English. For his LP, Zulu chose to sing in his own language and focus on his own emotions and experiences. In the early days of his career he became member of Los Shain's, for less than a year. Then he was invited to join Traffic Sound playing bass guitar and keyboards and record the band's third album "Lux". An offer to start a solo career would follow and 'Como una escalera ', 'Alegría' and 'Cariño grande' 45s were released. The expectations that his first solo singles generated were met by the release of the LP Zulu in 1974, boasting an eclectic and innovative sound. Andean folk, Afro-Latin beats, psych-tinged prog rock scents, moog glides, choir arrangements spread across the entire album creating a truly unique piece of music. A few demos were also recorded for the next album but this never saw the light. In December 1974, a few months after the LP was released, the artist decided to disappear. At this point of his life, he started to become aware of the need to define spirituality. After exploring and comparing countless religious, philosophical, psychological texts and trying transcendental meditation and yoga, he concluded that the Bible was the most profound and clearest text. While this was going on, his public figure grew thanks to the success of his album. At the end of 1974, Zulu surprised the manager of IEMPSA, Augusto Sarria, by communicating his decision to leave show business. The artist vanished into the religious path, making sure his music got as unnoticed as possible... This is the first ever reissue of Zulú's 1974 album. It has been supervised by the artist himself and includes extensive notes and the extra track 'Haces mal, pobre chico', B side to his first single that never made it into the album.

Highlights: Limey and the Yanks' A-side 'Love Can't Be A One Way Deal' is a garage song with a sound pitched somewhere between the Beau Brummels and the Beach Boys. 'Guaranteed Love', on the flipside, is an outstanding bluesy number with a stinging fuzz guitar, a concise harp solo and a rousing Bo Diddley-fied groove that has made its way to various compilations since the early 80s and now gets reissued for the first time on a 7" single. This release includes notes by Mike Stax (Ugly Things Magazine) Details: In California in the mid-sixties, with the British Invasion raging, having an authentic Englishman as the lead singer of your band was an ace in the hole that gave you an edge over the competition. Such was the case with Limey & the Yanks a quintet from Buena Park in Southern California's Orange County. Limey was young Steve Cook, and his Yanks by 1965 were guitarists Gregg DeLorto and Tim Gunne, bass player Bob Batman and drummer Wes Hunsinger. With his blonde Keith Relf-style hair, Steve was a striking front man who fortunately also possessed a decent voice, and with his father managing the group they were soon making waves throughout the area. A victory at a Battle of the Bands at the Hollywood Palladium put them on the map in Los Angeles, attracting the attention of producer Gary Paxton. By this time Wally Downing had joined on lead guitar, replacing Gregg DeLorto who had defected to the Spats. Paxton produced their debut single in late 1965, and it was released in January of the following year on his Starburst label. Paxton's business partner in Starburst was Lloyd Johnson, and the single's A-side was written by Lloyd's son Ken, who also recorded for Starburst with his group Ken & the Forth sic Dimension. Paxton had already produced a version of 'Love Can't Be A One Way Deal,' a couple of years earlier with the Rev-Lons, a girl group from Bakersfield, but the version by Limey & the Yanks took a completely different approach, turning it into a lovelorn garage number with a sound pitched somewhere between the Beau Brummels and the Beach Boys, with bright harmonies, mournful harmonica and a melodic twangy guitar solo. Swinging on a guitar hook based on Bobby Parker's 'Watch Your Step,' 'Guaranteed Love,' took a bluesier approach with a confident Limey vocal, stinging fuzz guitar, a concise harp solo and a rousing Bo Diddley-fied groove. The single was not a hit, but it added heft to the group's growing reputation. A second single, 'Out of Sight, Out of Mind,' was released in October, but it would be the group's last, although they did continue, through several lineup changes, into 1967. Limey's legacy lives on_

Following his triumphant performances at the 2022 Coachella Music and Arts Festival, Danny Elfman delivers Bigger.Messier., an ambitious double -album collection of remixed and reimagined tracks from his highly acclaimed Big Mess album. This sprawling, 23 track collection (available on 2 LP or 2 CD) features tracks reworked by some of the most groundbreaking and subversive artists around today. Bigger.Messier. views the Grammy and Emmy Award-winning composers songs through the lens of luminaries from diverse sides of the music business, including Trent Reznor, Iggy Pop, Squarepusher and Ghostemane. Elfman once again has achieved a kind of artistic liberation on the record that had been eluding him for decades, and connecting him to brand new audience. Born and raised in southern California, Elfman began his career as part of a surrealist, avant-garde musical theater troupe known as The Mystic Knights of Oingo Boingo. The group would eventually morph into the critically acclaimed rock band Oingo Boingo, whose high-energy performances and genre-bending sound garnered them a fanatically devoted cult following in the 1980s and '90s. Among the group's early fans was fledgling director Tim Burton and Paul Reubens (aka Pee-wee Herman), who enlisted Elfman to score their first feature film, Pee-wee's Big Adventure. The collaboration would prove to be the start of a long and fruitful partnership for Elfman and Burton, with Elfman going on to score a string of iconic Burton features like Batman, Beetlejuice, Big Fish, Edward Scissorhands, and The Nightmare Before Christmas. To date, Elfman has scored more than 100 films