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In search of the sublime, contemporary electronic musician Steve Hauschildt has designed grids and panoramas of sound across multiple releases through the rise and dissolution of his former band, Emeralds, an American touchstone of 2000s home-recorded psychedelic noise music. Consistent with his solo work is Hauschildt's ability to coil his craft in precise, varied, and distinctly physical forms. Gently spinning arpeggios converse with post-industrial decay. Sonic bers sway like pendulums from static melancholy to motorik bliss. Dissolvi, the artist's rst full-length with Ghostly International, engages sublimation from an ontological perspective: by dissociating the self. Hauschildt steps out from the singular path, for the rst time in a traditional studio, to compose and arrange contributions from friends. As a result, his most collaborative work to date extends a vast, vibrating framework in which to consider the state of being.

The album's title — a reference to cupio dissolvi, the Latin phrase meaning "I wish to be dissolved" — needn't be taken one-dimensionally or as purely solipsistic. It does, however, serve an apt reference. Physiological phenomena are of interest to Hauschildt. These back-of-mind ruminations nd their way out. Songs are cerebral in orientation, but beyond explanation, the music is truly visceral.

Involuntary eye movement inspires the serene, sanguine-nearing-suspicious "Saccade." Hauschildt feathers soft percussion beneath the echoed refrains of Los Angeles musician Julianna Barwick, together shaping a svelte suggestion of the anxieties brought about by modern-day surveillance; if everyone is being watched constantly, there is no individual, no self, only a broadly monitored and clumsily cataloged populous. The work of Chicago poet Carl Sandburg comes to mind: 'I am the people—the mob—the crowd—the mass.' The individual dissolves into the taxonomic crowd.

Minimalist techno impulses provide a stylistic through-line for Dissolvi. Understated synth phrases and drum grooves take hold in selective moments, like synchronistic structures onto which nebulous mists, like the rapturous voice of Gabrielle Herbst aka GABI on "Syncope," cling to and cloud, producing a dazzling rift in consciousness. The 7-minute centerpiece "Alienself" reiterates this creative logic, burbling like an amorphous body of water on a low-gravity planet, on the verge of dissolving, but never fully dematerializing.

The album was constructed in Chicago (where Hauschildt now resides) and partially in New York. "Much of it was recorded in a windowless studio which removed elemental or seasonal references to time in the music," says Hauschildt. "The focus this time was on mixing the album and incorporating a broader set of instrumentation. I describe my compositional approach as being quasi-generative." Embracing new methods and philosophical curiosities, and in turn, expanding the range of his repertoire, Hauschildt proposes a fascinating and profoundly rich experience in listening, being, and deliquescing.

Banileue Records Boss Benoit B Lands On Facta And K-lone's Wisdom Teeth Imprint With A Spacious Four-track Set Of Dazzling New-age Steppers. The Record Follows On From Benoit's Excellent Japonaiserie Ep - A Stunning Tribute To Japanese Synth Music Released Last Year On Berceuse Heroique. Onvague À L'âme, The Melodic Ideas Developed On The Japonaiserie Ep Are Set To Work Against Broken Beats And Uk-leaning Rhythms, Bringing It In Line With The Output Of Wisdom Teeth Label-mates Duckett, K-lone And Don't Dj. The Ep Is Bookended By A Pair Of Euphoric Broken-beat Rollers: First, The Melodic Bleeps And Weighted Kicks Of The Title Track, And To Close, The Scuzzy Pads And Glissando Synths Of Kimono. Sat Between Them Are Two Lean, Smokey Half-steppers: The Record's Vocal Centrepiece, Gyvenimo Tekme (featuring Lithuanian Songwriter Dália), And Ice Valley - An Intergalactic Slowjam Built Around Dubbed-out Bleeps And Yearning Cluster Chords.

There are some records that manage to sound both of a time and utterly timeless and Bon Voyage Organisation's Jungle Quelle Jungle (a nod to Supertramp's Crisis What Crisis) is one of those albums. Its silken-smooth production, irresistible grooves, funk-tinged guitars, lush soundscapes and general glowing presence could easily lead one to believe that have dug up a lost disco gem from the 1970s. However, behind the disco-pop gleam lies eerie dystopian sci-fi ruminations of a futuristic bent and tones that can often feel as French as they do Asian or African.

This sort of cross-continental exploration is an expansion on BVO's previous two EPs, the man behind the Organisation, Adrien Durand, says. 'I tried to continue the musical expedition between dystopian Science-Fiction Haunted Africa - plus Haitian Vaudou on 'Soleil Dieu' - and futuristic Asia. Addressing, in a double entendre manner, some of the political issues that I am sensitive to.' In fact the jungle in question in the album's title is a metaphorical one and one that creates a vast series of environments for Durand to explore such subjects as world trade, utopian ideals and themes of idols, as well as of time and communication. However, one will need to speak French to decipher such explorations, as well as shake off the natural impulse to move with every glorious beat on its 13 tracks, of which are moved along by Maud Nadal and Agathe Bonitzer's golden vocals.

Durand is a full-time producer based in Paris, working with the likes of Amadou & Mariam, so it makes sense that this record would absolutely sparkle in this department. Durand feeds off the variety of musicians coming and going during recording sessions as well as the rotating members and numbers of people involved with the band but fundamentally he writes all songs on piano first before bringing them to record live. 'We recorded a rhythm section of five - drums, percussion, guitar and myself on bass/synth bass and keyboards - at La Frette which is a studio located in a mansion outside of Paris and fitted with a beautiful 1973 NEVE desk. We only used analogue gear, by taste really, and found it a pretty reliable way of doing things. This simply consists of putting good players together in a room and waiting for the right take to happen.' Two four-day sessions and a 'cooling off' period (to let the recordings settle) soon followed before Durand picked the material back up to give it a final polish.

The resulting album is one loaded with intricacies and idiosyncrasies, something that Durand puts down to his own unique approach. 'I don't consider myself much of a songwriter but I love arranging rhythm sections and I'm pretty proud of the ones on this record.' This applies when it comes to working with such musicians as Inor Sotolongo Zapata, who with Durand used traditional Cuban percussive instruments and explored Haitian rhythms. When Durand expands on some of the ideas and influences that were funnelled into the record, you begin to get a sense of the vastness of the sounds that fill his world, from Trevor Horn's production work on ABC's Lexicon of Love, to the literary work of JG Ballard to the visual flair of the original Blade Runner and even the Tuareg sounds of Tinariwen, due to the fact that his studio neighbours their manager's and he would hear their rhythms bleeding through the walls. You therefore end up with an album that offers tracks such as 'GOMA' that fuses Chinese and African rhythms as well as 'SI D'Adventure' a piece of pop music that is dazzlingly hook-laden.

As a result of this cooking pot of sounds, influences, thoughts and creations, Durand has more of a gumbo approach to making this music than a set-out scientific formula. 'There is no definite recipe for me to like the production of a record,' he says. 'Of course it really sticks out that my work is really influenced by the 1978-1983 period, the golden age and last stand of analogue studios and session musicians.' Whilst Durand adores the traditional and conventional music, he really views this as something bigger and wider. 'I have a taste for the otherworldly vibe from records coming from less sought-after musical scenes, particularly Poland, Haiti, Ethiopia, Somalia, Congo and early Cantonese pop. Languages and the rapport of the people involved in the making of those records really inspires me. I particularly hate the use of the word 'World Music' as a potpourri for everything that doesn't sound quite western enough.'

Art pop meets Mongolian throat singing, Blade Runner meets Walter Carlos (Clockwork Orange), Tom Dissevelt and Kid Baltan (Bowie's favourite band) meet Tame Impala.

The fifth album from Marsmobil has been hailed by many as their best yet. With closer ties to Minx' (2006) than the last two albums, Fairytales Of The Supersurvivor' returns to Marsmobil's signature strength of wondrously brilliant songs ( And The Fishes In The Ocean', Shadows Of The Inner Light') that blend off-the-wall cinemascope sounds with dazzling beats and punchy, powerful hooks to create uniquely distinctive art pop anthems.
As always with Marsmobil, Roberto Di Gioia writes, plays, sings and programs everything himself. Here, as on Minx', he's brought in support from a fabulous singer - the very wonderful Amber Lin, who contributes vocals on four songs. All the cover illustrations are also by Di Gioia.

Multi-instrumentalist Roberto Di Gioia needs little introduction. The curious can explore his biography, discography and extensive lists of projects and collaborations as musician and songwriter (see below) for an impression of the hugely diverse achievements of this multi-talent and brilliant musician.
As a topical heads-up, Roberto Di Gioia is also the founder of the German jazz supergroup Web Web and released the album Oracle' in September 2017. The second Web Web album will follow in early 2018, hard on the heels of the fifth Marsmobil release. Di Gioia also wrote and produced Teufelswerk' for DJ Hell and contributed virtually all the songs on Hell's latest album, Zukunftsmusik'.

2 black LPs in gatefold sleeve with CD included T
A relentless vinyl collector and a fervent connoisseur of Anglo-American culture, the founding painter of the Figuration Libre movement (with Di Rosa, Blanchart and Boisrond) in the early 80's, Robert Combas has always connected his art with rock music. The two are always intertwined and fuel his inspiration. During his exhibition Sans Filet, Robert Combas made an essential encounter: the artist and video maker Lucas Mancione, also from the town of Sete, and decided to make the leap. Together, at the start of the decade, they created the band Les Sans Pattes. Notre Renaissance is a dazzling discharge, a geyser of cold and searing emotions, a conscious search for a unique and extreme experience. The tension in each track is palpable, as constant as it is pregnant. This band is full of character. Sometimes electronic, often a bit punk, always particularly rock'n'roll. Raw and physical tracks, compact and heady. Les Sans Pattes always lean towards psychedelics and repetition.

Cassette includes a free downloadcode - redeem via Bandcamp
After their latest release on Kitball Records HANNE & LORE are now back on their own Imprint HEULSUSE. The catchy Maintrack HUSHLE is kept in total HANNE & LORE style and drives its way euphorically into the head; rolling drums, hypnotic lead sounds, funky vocal snippets and an almost cheeky groove make HUSHLE to a true peaktime track. BEBETTA is throwing a dazzling remix of HUSHLE onto the dancefloor, full of tmospheric frequency and warmth between the FX sounds and soft Chicago claps. HANNE & LORE are turning down the speed by slipping LOST IN RIMINI, a crispy 80s house track, into our little Italo Disco.

Leisure System presents rising talent Will Ward's Interval One EP, the second in our 2015 GRIDLOCK series of dance floor 12"s and the British producer and DJ's most exuberant record to date. In addition to two prior solo releases, Will Ward is a member of the esteemed electronic trio Circle Traps along with Jack Wyllie and Duncan Bellamy of Portico. He has previously collaborated with the likes of My Panda Shall Fly and gained support from tastemakers such as Rob Da Bank and Gilles Peterson for dazzling productions that blur the lines between pumping house and windswept techno. The Interval One EP is a strong representation of that sleek sound, with tracks that are bursting with emotion and memorable detail. "Digital Design" is an aural kaleidoscope, with a shimmering melody line refracted in squiggly arcs next to murmured female vocals and resonant chords. It's a fittingly varied introduction, drifting between hot and cold poles. "Portion" features Circle Traps member Jack Wyllie, and subtle additions accrue to create waves of unease, while the melody line bounces energetically through a maze of ossified handclaps and buoyant chord stabs. Closing things out, the EP's title track builds from a woozy introduction to an ebullient peak, as if rolling out of bed and stepping immediately onto a throbbing dance floor. It's a cleansing and exhilarating feeling, the type of rare emotional response that Will Ward has proven himself thoroughly capable of creating with Interval One.

One can hardly imagine the genre-busting, culture-crossing musical magic of Outkast, Prince, Erykah Badu, Rick James, The Roots, or even the early Red Hot Chili Peppers without the influence of R&B pioneer Betty Davis. Her style of raw and revelatory punk-funk defies any notions that women can’t be visionaries in the worlds of rock and pop. In recent years, rappers from Ice Cube to Talib Kweli to Ludacris have rhymed over her intensely strong but sensual music.



There is one testimonial about Betty Davis that is universal: she was a woman ahead of her time. In our contemporary moment, this may not be as self-evident as it was thirty years ago – we live in an age that’s been profoundly changed by flamboyant flaunting of female sexuality: from Parlet to Madonna, Lil Kim to Kelis. Yet, back in 1973 when Betty Davis first showed up in her silver go-go boots, dazzling smile and towering Afro, who could you possibly have compared her to? Marva Whitney had the voice but not the independence. Labelle wouldn’t get sexy with their “Lady Marmalade” for another year while Millie Jackson wasn’t Feelin’ Bitchy until 1977. Even Tina Turner, the most obvious predecessor to Betty’s fierce style wasn’t completely out of Ike’s shadow until later in the decade.



Ms. Davis’s unique story, still sadly mostly unknown, is unlike any other in popular music. Betty wrote the song “Uptown” for the Chambers Brothers before marrying Miles Davis in the late ’60s, influencing him with psychedelic rock, and introducing him to Jimi Hendrix — personally inspiring the classic album Bitches Brew.



But her songwriting ability was way ahead of its time as well. Betty not only wrote every song she ever recorded and produced every album after her first, but the young woman penned the tunes that got The Commodores signed to Motown. The Detroit label soon came calling, pitching a Motown songwriting deal, which Betty turned down. Motown wanted to own everything. Heading to the UK, Marc Bolan of T. Rex urged the creative dynamo to start writing for herself. A common thread throughout Betty’s career would be her unbending Do-It-Yourself ethic, which made her quickly turn down anyone who didn’t fit with the vision. She would eventually say no to Eric Clapton as her album producer, seeing him as too banal.



Her 1974 sophomore album They Say I’m Different features a worthy-of-framing futuristic cover challenging David Bowie’s science fiction funk with real rocking soul-fire, kicked off with the savagely sexual “Shoo-B-Doop and Cop Him” (later sampled by Ice Cube). Her follow up is full of classic cuts like “Don’t Call Her No Tramp” and the hilarious, hard, deep funk of “He Was A Big Freak.”