Search:the dream we carry

Are you Looking for Love? Advice? Good Luck? Then you’ve come to the right place. Fortune Three, the third release in the Psychic Readings catalog, Peach continues to explore her sound bringing 4 tracks dedicated to the dance.

It starts with In Ur Dreams, an ode to the dreamers and lovers in your fantasies. Peach gives some subtle organ hits a whirl with deeper basslines and punchy drums. Next, a track inspired by and sampling an old Christina Aguilera interview, What U Got is a warm, beachy roller which is reminiscent of hotter temperatures. Pretty pads, shiny stabs, and a weighty bassline create an endlessly playful groove – a Peach signature.

On the flip, we see Brady’s Song mixed two ways – the first being the deeper cut of the two, Brady’s Song slowly unravels melody after melody, playing with sassy stabs and a bassline on the subbier side. The Afters Edit takes a more upfront and jacking approach, focusing on the ability of the bass to roll through the whole track – shimmering percussion and the same stabs from the B1 carry us through until the last second.

All the tracks are a testament to her many moods as a DJ. From club use to home listening, this is an EP dedicated to the dance.

“Detraex Corp arrives on Sagome to deliver a heady journey through experimental rhythm and dub-informed weight and release with their new album Live at Pompeii. The album, much like its Carlo Gabriele Tribbioli created artwork, represents a journey, a collection of sounds and emotions, sequenced to share with us, the listener, a variety of experience, and of memory, which are at once familiar and other.
"Live at Pompeii sets things off with the tone-setting Tykes of, where frazzled, shuffling drums meet sub bass weight and ketamine oud, sounding something like Wordsound’s Scarab leaving the 90s and entering the future. Tombaroli invites the head nods, clearly communicating the album’s intentions and inviting us to that party under that out-of-town bridge with its insistent percussion and pulsing weight.
"Other tracks, such as Bullet Holes, carry us further into a psychedelic alternative, with its lysergic fever-dream soundtrack to an unnamed mediterranean plaza, and No Minus’s sounding like a nascent, primitive distant cousin to Jeru’s Premier-produced Come Clean.
"Channel 83 firmly returns us to the club, weaving mystical soundsystem magic with its stunted horns and swirl of voice, driven forward with the most chest-rattling of stomps, before the album enters its finale, where the grimey judder of Expect Excerpt slides to a bleary-eyed half-speed, evoking the club which won’t let you leave.
"Mount Point eventually provides that release, an early morning sunrise of a track, with rich, slow trudge and post-club shimmer, before Landings Dub signals the end of the journey, a metallic elegy to what has preceded, and a contemplation of your upcoming repeat listen, and re-entry, to the world of Detraex Corp.”

Words by Daniel Magee
Music by Detraex Corp
Mastered by Giuseppe Ielasi
Artwork and Layout by Carlo Gabriele Tribbioli

With the grace of an ancient oracle speaking through a veil of mist, the album unfurls in movements both haunting and divine, carrying the listener into a realm where sorrow and splendor waltz as one. Orchestrated with exquisite precision and opulent depth, the ensemble breathes life into every measure. Strings sweep like celestial tides, choirs rise like prayers from cloistered ruins, and woodwinds whisper secrets from lost mythologies. The multimember orchestra does not merely accompany the compositions, it becomes the very vessel through which Autumn Tears channels their clairvoyant vision.

Rooted in the neoclassical tradition yet unbound by its walls, the album weaves baroque intricacies with cinematic grandeur, crafting soundscapes that feel both sacred and boundless. Every track is a portal: to forgotten dreams, to veiled futures, to the silent poetry that lingers in the spaces between. Crown of the Clairvoyant will be available as a digital download,a limited Leather CD Box, a limited CD jewel case package with a CD exclusive bonus track as well as a limited vinyl package with a 12 page illustrated lyric book and vinyl exclusive bonus track.

Los Angeles-based duo LUCKYANDLOVE are back with their third album, evoking a new sense of art school originality, following their critically acclaimed “Transitions” album. The duo defines 'Humaura' as the atmosphere that emanates from the feelings of the human spirit void of technological control.

Blending raw analog synth sounds with driving punctuated percussion and punchy analogue bass, LUCKYANDLOVE’s music is shaped by the embers of Siouxsie and The Banshees and Bauhaus, resonant spectres carry over from synth-laden galaxies, where the needle hits the vinyl groove and Doc Martens marched to basement dance floors.

LUCKYANDLOVE is the raw sonic experiment of Loren Luck and April Love, whose music transcends genres. Their live analogue synth beats, Moog instrumentation and beautiful, harmonic vocals trigger an immediate download of fuzzy sunset synthgaze, blue-black neon darkwave, and tigerprint electro punk.

“‘Humaura’ is an action-packed, cinematic, entertaining and soulful electro-dance record full of fresh air and wide-open roads where there is more freedom to party, to be in nature, and to be our wild selves,” says April Love.

Fusing together pulsating molten kicks, abrasive fuzz-laden analog synths and sensual vocals, the anti-tech angst anthem ‘I Am Human’ is a call to take back our lives, underlining the need to reconnect with being Human before it’s too late. ‘Lonely at Night’ is a "last call" bar track about the desperate, frantic desire for human connection, building from a haunting sense of isolation to a fast-paced, climactic reunion with a crush. Elsewhere, this album features enchanting lyrics rooted in emotions from melancholy and sorrowful glom to a state of blissful trance.

This album was recorded, mixed and mastered for digital release by Grammy award-winning engineer Be Hussey (Modern English, Twin Tribes, Boy Harsher) at Balboa Studio and Catwater for the digital music, and mastered for vinyl and lathe-cut by Grammy-nominated engineer Nicholas Townsend (Weezer, Grimes) at Townsend Mastering.

Their 'Lucky + Love' and 'Transitions' albums having earning them a global fan following, US and UK tours, multiple tracks featured in the indie hit film 'Tiger Within' (Ed Asner's final performance), and wide acclaim, noting their “soulful, synthesized sound" (LA Weekly), “spectral synths and dazed-dreamy feeling” (Big Takeover Magazine), not to mention their "uncompromising and inventive sonic experiment” (The Spill Magazine) and sound that “oscillates between the asphalt synth streets & interstellar outer realms” (Impose Magazine).

LUCKYANDLOVE’s visceral, dark electro-pop appeal continues to stretch through time and space. Praise for the album’s lead track ‘I am Human’ have poured in from over a dozen countries. ‘Humaura’ promises to cement the duo’s reputation as one of America’s most vivacious electronic / synthwave acts, positioning them firmly within the lineage of artists like Phantogram, Ladytron, The Soft Moon, Twin Tribes and ACTORS.


‘Humaura’ Press:

“...In contrast to its synth-laden darkwave and electropunk sound, the song presents lyrical themes of championing the human spirit and emotions over the technological void" ~ Regen Magazine

“Moog textures and distorted synth tones weaving together like electric currents. An industrial edge that carries a dreamy undercurrent, nodding to darkwave, punk rock and post-punk influences without sounding dated" ~ Myth of Rock

"Every second and note is a meld of lava-esque incitement and beguiling melodic fixation and a breath to unpredictability and stirring fuzz hued uniqueness… a thrilling encounter" ~ The Ringmaster Review

"Layers fall into place and give rise to soaring vocals. The beautiful timbre of her voice sits over the landscapes of sound and reveal poignant lines that hit home." ~ Sound Read Six

2024 Reissue

“Tubby did three original dub albums, ‘Dub From The Roots’. ‘The Roots of Dub’ and the third is ‘Brass Rockers’ with Tommy McCook ‘pon the flying cymbals. Where he mixed it with the horn going in and out in a dub way and one named ‘Shalom Dub’ you can call Tubby’s too because he mixed the versions as they were off forty fives’’
Bunny ‘Striker‘ Lee

King Tubby and Producer Bunny ‘Striker’ Lee are intertwined in the birth of Dub Music. After discovering a mistake that made a ‘serious joke’ ( more of which later...) they went on to release the first pressings of this new musical genre namely ‘Dub Music’. Tubby’s vast knowledge of electronics and Bunny’s vast catalogue of rhythms would lay the foundations of what today is taken as a standard... the Remix / Version cuts to an existing vocal tune.

Osbourne ‘King Tubby’ Ruddock was born in Kingston, Jamaica on 28th January 1941 and grew up in the High Holborn Street area of downtown Kingston. He studied electronics at Kingston’s National Technical College and also on two correspondence courses from the U.S.A... When he had qualified Tubby began repairing radios and other electrical appliances in a shack in the back yard of his mother’s home. His work in the early days included winding transformers and building amplifiers for Kingston’s Sound Systems. Tubby built his first Sound System in 1957 playing jazz and Rhythm & Blues at local weddings and birthday parties. His reputation as a man who knew and understood both electronics and music grew steadily and as the sixties drew to a close. Tubby purchased his own basic two track equipment. He installed this alongside his dub cutting machine, a home made mixing console and his impressive collection of Jazz albums in the back bedroom of his home at 18 Dromilly Avenue which he christened his music room.

Tubby and Striker were at Treasure Isle Studio’s one day while Ruddy from Spanish Town was working with the engineer Byron Smith....

“Tubby and myself was talking when Ruddy was cutting some dub but Smithy (engineer) made a mistake through we were talking and forgot to put in the voice. It was two track recording in those days. Ruddy said ‘No Man! Make it stay! and so they cut the rhythm. When I went over to Ruddy’s that Saturday night a dance was in progress and when they played the vocal to the tune... then he said we’re going to play ‘Part Two’. They never called it ‘Version’..and then he played the rhythm track. The song was a catchy song and everybody started to sing along and the deejay started to toast so everything went down well. On Monday morning I went up and I said ‘Tubbs the mistake we made was a serious joke.It mash up Spanish Town! The people went wild. So you have to start to do that now ‘cause when the man put on the ‘Part Two’ everyone start singing this song. It played about twenty times. I said you try Tubbs!’...Well the next Saturday night now when Tubby strung up down the farm U Roy said he’s going to play ‘Part Two’ but Tubby did it different now. He started with the voice then dropped it out and let the rhythm run and then he brought in the voice in the middle and from there Tubby started to get really popular.’’
Bunny ‘Striker’ Lee

Dynamic Sounds upgraded to sixteen track recording in 1972 and Tubby purchased, again with the help of a deal brokered by Bunny Lee. The old four track equipment and the MCI console from their Studio B. The four tracks now gave him far wider scope to work with and he began to create a new musical form where the bass and drum parts were brought up while the faders allowed Tubby to ease the vocal and rhythm in and out of the mix. It was only a matter of time before Tubby’s dub plate experiments began to make it on to vinyl and the first ever long playing King Tubby releases would feature a collection of his mixes to a selection of Strikers rhythms. So please sit back and enjoy this historic set of sounds. Lovingly restored and with a few extra gems added to the CD Editions. These releases were the first to carry the name of King Tubby and the first to credit the great musicians that contributed so much to the rhythms that made these albums possible.

“This album is us appreciating how amazing this thing we have is. The realization of how lucky we are that we get to be part of something like this for 25 years, and to have built a community that cares for each other in the way it does. It’s not about any of us individually. When we all work together to make something happen, something bigger happens.” - Jono, Paavo and Tony – Above & Beyond.

If much of the mindset and mantra behind Above & Beyond over the last quarter of a century has been born from the idea of connection, then their fifth artist album ‘Bigger Than All Of Us’ is best summed up in one word: reconnection. It’s been seven years since Jono Grant, Paavo Siljamäki and Tony McGuinness released their fourth electronic album, Common Ground. A #3 on the Billboard charts – an achievement that speaks to the British band’s huge, arena-to-amphitheatre scale profile in America, a level of success replicated in pretty much every other corner of the world.

The time since has seen a series of projects come to life both collectively and individually: 2019’s ambient, yoga-and-meditation-friendly album Flow State, streamed over 400 million times worldwide; a series of club ready instrumentals under the Tranquility Base moniker; radio records ‘See The End’, ‘Over Now’ and ‘Crazy Love’. In the meantime, the band embarked on personal projects outside of the Above & Beyond framework. Grant collaborated with long time friend Daren Tate on 2022’s self-titled synthwave JODA album. In 2023 Siljamäki, reprised his P.O.S. alias, releasing dance floor focussed album Deeper Tales. Last year, McGuinness dug in his own crates for Salt, an album based on a studio-freshened selection of emotional singer-songwriter compositions originally written as the ’90s rave and Britpop fever-dreams faded. A worldwide touring schedule, their weekly Group Therapy radio show, and overseeing a family of iconic dance labels, Anjunabeats, Anjunadeep and, most recently, Anjunachill – it’s never quiet in the world of Above & Beyond.

John Calvin Abney rises again from the Oklahoman prairies with his latest album Transparent Towns. The ten songs focus on how we remember, and ultimately accept, though he is not always certain the memories we carry adequately mark the moments that make us. "This record is wrapped around the passage of time, whether or not we can trust the memories that we swear on, how we forgive ourselves and others as seasons turn, and how we define what is important as we roll the boulder back up the hill," Abney says of Transparent Towns. "We build these routines and live our stories, we rely on our histories and our memories - spoken and recorded. Now, we're relying on copies of copies, memories of memories, all packed like sardines into our phones, and we're losing the ability to tell our own stories. I have to constantly remind myself, as well as redefine what matters at the end of a day." Transparent Towns is the seventh studio album for Abney, and his first since 2022's Tourist, which he crafted after spending the pandemic as an itinerant writer. In contrast Abney penned most of the album's 10 tracks during a period of introspection and convalescence while recovering from vocal cord surgery in 2023. The time to himself - "I didn't sing for nearly a year, and after surgery, I couldn't talk for a month, and couldn't sing for over three months," he says, left him contemplating how to trace his experiences in the silence. The album's title track is Abney's take on the inaccessible past, witnessing loss and grief through the years, damning the "days we let go left unsaid", and accepting the uncontrollable circumstances we are sometimes placed in. "The troubles and the joys exist vibrantly in your memory, but you're wondering if you remember correctly," Abney remarks. "I've sometimes had this sort of confusion between memory and dreams - you crafted this ideal in your head of how things were or might be, in order to soften the blow of a harsher reality." The places we inhabit dictate how our memories form, and for Abney, there is one place to which he is constantly drawn: Oklahoma. Although he was born in the biggest little city in America, Reno, Nevada, he grew up learning guitar and piano in Tulsa, playing bars and DIY spaces from Norman to Stillwater. His affinity for the land that raised him is evident in the production of Transparent Towns. Abney self-produced the record, tracking most of it at Cardinal Song outside of Oklahoma City, with Michael Trepagnier handling mixing and engineering. The band was comprised mostly of Sooner State musicians too, along with Lydia Loveless and John Moreland contributing harmony vocals. His signature vulnerable voice and lyrical handiwork comes through in each of the songs, along with his penchant for alternative pop melodies set against colorful chords and subtle soundscapes. Having toured for years backing up artists like Moreland, Wild Child, Ben Kweller, and S.G. Goodman, Abney embraces a lead role again, as he presses forward with the loving lament and defiant joy throughout Transparent Towns, calling us to leave behind the pressures we place on our ourselves and recognize that just because there is an ending, it doesn't mean it's the end.

Dario Bassolino is pianist, producer and composer born in Naples, where he currently resides. With an eclectic taste and an genre-defying musical ability, he has produced for and played alongside alt-R&B vocalist LNDFK, jazz-funk legend Nicola Conte, Early Sounds boss Pellegrino and has collaborated with Nu Genea, Kurtis Rosenwinkel and rapper Pink Siifu to name a few. Inspired by the Brazilian funk greats Hermeto Pascoal and Airto Moreira and their Italian counterparts such as Franco Califano, Lucio Battisti, Panella, Enzo di Domenico and Gennaro D'Auria. Bassolino’s live show has a very organic form and is inspired by jazz, funk and disco improvisation, having extensive experience playing to enthusiastic international audiences as a session musician at prestigious festivals Primavera Sound, Montreux Jazz festival, Dour Festival and We Out Here.

Bassolino's new release is located where the sea begins and the sky ends. Two tracks that carry the horizon drawing a straight line between Naples, Tunisi and Beirut. A thin but tangible line that unites the Mediterranean poles. Hence the concept of "Popoli del Mare", the multiform sound waves intertwine a composition with an incessant rhythm: the Afro contamination of Charif Megarbane finds a fit with the Italian and dreamy harmonies of Bassolino. Baid Alik is a song of love and hope. The sound, purely inspired by the research of Habibi Funk, evokes the memory of an ancestral past shared by Bassolino with the Tunisian singer Marzouk Mejri.
His voice, halfway between proto- rap and melodic, mix perfectly to the disco-cinematic instrumental.

Los Angeles trio Faetooth sophomore album Labyrinthine is a deeply felt exploration of emotional weight: grief, memory, uncertainty, and the quiet work of growing around your own wounds. Following the band's 2022 debut Remnants of the Vessel, which introduced the band’s signature blend of heaviness and mysticism, Labyrinthine pushes further inward. True to its name, the album winds through a maze of feeling and form, where meaning is never handed over easily. It’s rooted in self-discovery through disorientation, the idea that understanding comes not from escape, but from getting lost. Ari May (guitars and vocals), Jenna Garcia (bass and vocals), and Rah Kanan (drums) manage to stay grounded in the immediate in parallel with fantasy themes of the band's namesake. Labyrinthine holds space for this contradiction; tenderness and intensity, restraint and release. The band's self-branded “fairy doom” sound fits between shoegaze, doom, and grunge. It isn’t just texture; it’s a framework for navigating the unsaid. Like the myth that inspired its title, Labyrinthine doesn’t end in victory, but in confrontation—not with escape, but with the Minotaur. Only here, the Minotaur isn’t a monster. It’s something quiet and more familiar: unresolved feelings, old memories, and sadness that refuse to stay buried. The album winds like a maze, sometimes heavy, sometimes hushed, always intentional. Faetooth isn’t chasing catharsis. They’re creating space to reflect, to feel, and maybe to get a little lost along the way.
Artist quote: "White Noise" emerged from a diary entry, and is a relentless and intense reflection on inner turmoil. We’re often drawn to the familiar, even when we don’t realize we’re reaching out for it. It is an emotional upheaval, carrying harsh truths that weigh heavily on the heart. Guitarist, Ari May mentions, “Performing the song always takes me back to a specific place, even if just for a moment.”
“Riffs and melodies brimming with loneliness and longing… this band’s incantations affect my mood the whole day after listening.” — The Sleeping Shaman
“Bringing otherworldly hazy doom goodness… dreamy clean vocals, echoing harsh vocals, entrancing riffs, meditative shoegaze melodies.” — Nine Circles
“Slow, lumbering behemoths of great weight… couched in a melancholy atmosphere and explosions of crushing heaviness.” - Where Strides The Behemoth

Los Angeles trio Faetooth sophomore album Labyrinthine is a deeply felt exploration of emotional weight: grief, memory, uncertainty, and the quiet work of growing around your own wounds. Following the band's 2022 debut Remnants of the Vessel, which introduced the band’s signature blend of heaviness and mysticism, Labyrinthine pushes further inward. True to its name, the album winds through a maze of feeling and form, where meaning is never handed over easily. It’s rooted in self-discovery through disorientation, the idea that understanding comes not from escape, but from getting lost. Ari May (guitars and vocals), Jenna Garcia (bass and vocals), and Rah Kanan (drums) manage to stay grounded in the immediate in parallel with fantasy themes of the band's namesake. Labyrinthine holds space for this contradiction; tenderness and intensity, restraint and release. The band's self-branded “fairy doom” sound fits between shoegaze, doom, and grunge. It isn’t just texture; it’s a framework for navigating the unsaid. Like the myth that inspired its title, Labyrinthine doesn’t end in victory, but in confrontation—not with escape, but with the Minotaur. Only here, the Minotaur isn’t a monster. It’s something quiet and more familiar: unresolved feelings, old memories, and sadness that refuse to stay buried. The album winds like a maze, sometimes heavy, sometimes hushed, always intentional. Faetooth isn’t chasing catharsis. They’re creating space to reflect, to feel, and maybe to get a little lost along the way.
Artist quote: "White Noise" emerged from a diary entry, and is a relentless and intense reflection on inner turmoil. We’re often drawn to the familiar, even when we don’t realize we’re reaching out for it. It is an emotional upheaval, carrying harsh truths that weigh heavily on the heart. Guitarist, Ari May mentions, “Performing the song always takes me back to a specific place, even if just for a moment.”
“Riffs and melodies brimming with loneliness and longing… this band’s incantations affect my mood the whole day after listening.” — The Sleeping Shaman
“Bringing otherworldly hazy doom goodness… dreamy clean vocals, echoing harsh vocals, entrancing riffs, meditative shoegaze melodies.” — Nine Circles
“Slow, lumbering behemoths of great weight… couched in a melancholy atmosphere and explosions of crushing heaviness.” - Where Strides The Behemoth

Los Angeles trio Faetooth sophomore album Labyrinthine is a deeply felt exploration of emotional weight: grief, memory, uncertainty, and the quiet work of growing around your own wounds. Following the band's 2022 debut Remnants of the Vessel, which introduced the band’s signature blend of heaviness and mysticism, Labyrinthine pushes further inward. True to its name, the album winds through a maze of feeling and form, where meaning is never handed over easily. It’s rooted in self-discovery through disorientation, the idea that understanding comes not from escape, but from getting lost. Ari May (guitars and vocals), Jenna Garcia (bass and vocals), and Rah Kanan (drums) manage to stay grounded in the immediate in parallel with fantasy themes of the band's namesake. Labyrinthine holds space for this contradiction; tenderness and intensity, restraint and release. The band's self-branded “fairy doom” sound fits between shoegaze, doom, and grunge. It isn’t just texture; it’s a framework for navigating the unsaid. Like the myth that inspired its title, Labyrinthine doesn’t end in victory, but in confrontation—not with escape, but with the Minotaur. Only here, the Minotaur isn’t a monster. It’s something quiet and more familiar: unresolved feelings, old memories, and sadness that refuse to stay buried. The album winds like a maze, sometimes heavy, sometimes hushed, always intentional. Faetooth isn’t chasing catharsis. They’re creating space to reflect, to feel, and maybe to get a little lost along the way.
Artist quote: "White Noise" emerged from a diary entry, and is a relentless and intense reflection on inner turmoil. We’re often drawn to the familiar, even when we don’t realize we’re reaching out for it. It is an emotional upheaval, carrying harsh truths that weigh heavily on the heart. Guitarist, Ari May mentions, “Performing the song always takes me back to a specific place, even if just for a moment.”
“Riffs and melodies brimming with loneliness and longing… this band’s incantations affect my mood the whole day after listening.” — The Sleeping Shaman
“Bringing otherworldly hazy doom goodness… dreamy clean vocals, echoing harsh vocals, entrancing riffs, meditative shoegaze melodies.” — Nine Circles
“Slow, lumbering behemoths of great weight… couched in a melancholy atmosphere and explosions of crushing heaviness.” - Where Strides The Behemoth

"Astral Americana hymns hovering somewhere between the dirt and the stars" Pitchfork

"Mood music for moments of solitude, best experienced without distraction" The Times

"Overwhelmingly effective and ravishingly beautiful" The Wire

American Dust is an ode to the beauty of the American Southwest, where vast desert landscapes hold stories both stark and tender. Eve Adams’ characteristic folk noir weaves a vivid tapestry of love, sacrifice and quiet revelation, conjuring images of dust storms, stray dogs and far off trains.

The high desert of California is a vast and confounding place. Equally inspiring as it is punishing, it’s a landscape that carries magic in its deep dark nights, holding stories both tender and stark in the coarse layer of dust that settles upon everything. It’s long been a source of inspiration for musicians, writers, and painters, each of them adding to the same current, carried forward over time, through hope and hardship and the passing years.

Somewhere out there in that broad and boundless landscape, Eve Adams has been living her own desert life, quietly writing the follow-up to 2021’s Metal Bird LP. Where that album sang of liminal space, the dream-like turbulence of Hollywood’s golden age, American Dust is far more rooted in traditional storytelling; a eulogy for the American Dream channeled through that sweeping part of the country that holds such power and mystery. Slipping into different and varied costumes throughout its ten songs, it finds Eve not just observing the people around her but stepping into their shoes and peeling back the layers of their quiet lives.

Adams writes from within. A few years ago she moved out there, to “the middle of nowhere”, finding a slowness that didn’t exist in the city, and she knows only too well about the mystical nature of the land and those who live within it. Weaving together themes of grit and romance, American Dust holds its focus on the bittersweet poetry of lives lived in solitude, most notably the women who sustain life at the center of it all. “There’s something very radical about domestic life,” Adams says of this thread. “So many women live their entire lives behind closed doors, completely in the shadows. Within those lives is such sacrifice, devotion, and love. I wanted to honor that: the poetry in the mundane, the longing in the repetition. The way love survives boredom and dust and time.”

Eve is joined on American Dust by Canadian musician Bryce Cloghesy, aka Military Genius of Crack Cloud, who plays throughout and also helped produce the album. Musically bold and vivid, it’s an ambitious and detailed stride forward from what’s come before, the scope of the LP’s narrative reflected in the radiant sweep of the playing. On top of gentle piano and guitar, gorgeous strings drift through the album, lending the songs a woozy sense of romanticism; a collaboration with Gamaliel Traynor (Cello) and Caroline’s Oliver Hamilton (Violin).

For all the drama that’s coiled around these songs, it’s the recurring notion of love and hope fighting against everything that holds true throughout American Dust. Musically it’s lush and vibrant, intimate and cinematic side by side, and always bursting with warmth. But it’s what it holds in its weary bones that elevates it to something truly special, something more than just a collection of songs penned in the heart of the desert. The characters it speaks of, and from, feel shadowed but wholly real, like they’re bursting to share their stories that have remained hidden for years and years and they allow Eve Adams to grow as a songwriter right in front of our eyes.

“The same swirling dust that clung to the covered wagons of my ancestors as they crossed the Great American Desert is the same dust my great-great-grandmother swept off her porch during the Dust Bowl of 1936 in Oklahoma, is the same dust that blows in through the cracks in my windows here in the desert, carrying stories from a time long gone,” Eve says, reflecting on the personal narrative that runs through her new album.

“It’s not just dust—it’s American Dust, the kind that settles into the bones of a family and never leaves. I think about that dust as a symbol of the passage of time. I hope this album will be part of that same current, carrying forward for the next generations of my family to find. I’ve been lucky enough to have journals and poetry from my ancestors that documents their lives during times of pure hope and pure hardship. I’d like to think of this album as a contribution to that family history.”

The quietest voices can be the most durable.

American Football’s original triumph, on their 1999 self-titled debut, was to reunite two shy siblings: emo and post-rock. It was a pioneering album where lyrical clarity was obscured and complicated by the stealth musical textures surrounding it.

Like Slint’s Spiderland, or Codeine’s The White Birch, even Talk Talk’s Laughing Stock, American Football asked far more questions than it cared to answer. But there wasn’t a band around anymore to explain it, anyway. The three young men who made the album – Mike Kinsella, Steve Holmes, and Steve Lamos – split up pretty much on its release.

Fifteen years later, American Football reunited (now as a four-piece, with the addition of Nate Kinsella). They played far larger shows than in their original incarnation and recorded their long-anticipated second album, 2016’s American Football (LP2). The release was widely praised, but the band members still felt like their best work was yet to come.

‘I feel like the second album was us figuring it out,’ says Nate. ‘For me, it wasn’t quite done. I knew there was still more.’

Enter American Football (LP3). ‘We put a lot of time and a lot of energy into it,’ says Mike. ‘We were all thoughtful about what we wanted to put out there. Last time, it was figuring out how to use all of our different arms. This time, we were like – Ok we have these arms, let’s use them.’ The band used the same producer, Jason Cupp, and recorded the album at the same studio (Arc Studios in Omaha, Nebraska) as its predecessor – yet they approached it in a markedly different way. There was a determination to let the songs breathe, to trust in ideas finding their own pace. The final result is a definite, and deliberate, stretching of the band.

As a result, LP3 is less obviously tethered to the band’s past than the second album. An immediate contrast between LP3 and its two predecessors is its cover. The two previous albums featured the exterior and interior of a residence in the band’s original hometown of Urbana, Illinois (now attracting fans for pilgrimages and photo opportunities), by the photographer Chris Strong. But American Football knew that LP3 was an outside record. Instead of the familiar house, this time the cover photo (again by Strong) features open, rolling fields on Urbana’s borders. It is a sign of the album’s magnitude in sound, and of the band’s boldness in breaking away from home comforts.

American Football also joked that LP3’s genre was ‘post-house’, because of this very conscious visual break. But, in a strange way, there are links in LP3 with an actual post-house genre: shoegaze. The more exploratory members of the original British shoegaze scene were inspired by the dreamtime and circularity of house music (ambient house in particular), cherishing its sonic possibilities. That spirit drips into LP3, most obviously on ‘I Can’t Feel You’, a collaboration with Rachel Goswell of Slowdive.

The album also features Hayley Williams from Paramore on the album’s catchiest moment, ‘Uncomfortably Numb’, and Elizabeth Powell, of the Québécoise act Land Of Talk. Mike wrote lyrics in French especially for her.

LP3 is contemplative, rich, expressive, yet with a queasy undercurrent. It is heavy with expectancy, revealing its ideas slowly, eliciting the hidden stories people carry around with them. ‘I feel like my lyric writing has changed a lot over the years,’ says Mike. ‘The goal is to be conversational, maybe to state something giant and heavy, but in a very plain way. But, definitely in this record, I keep things a little more vague.’ As on the first album, the lyrics on LP3 may seem confessional and concentrated, but the more you scrutinize them, the further their meaning slinks away. Or, as Mike tellingly sings on ‘I Can’t Feel You”: I’m fluent in subtlety.

‘Somewhere along the way we moved from being a reunion band to just being a band,’ says Steve Holmes. American Football is now a bona fide ongoing focus, and they are making some of the best music of their lives. American Football (LP3) stands with two other rare reunion successes – Slowdive and My Bloody Valentine’s mbv – as a fine example of how a band refinding one another can augment, rather than taint, their legacy.

‘I think that there are those albums, or the music that you heard when you were younger, and they imprint on you,’ says Nate. ‘And no matter where you go, or what you do they’re always there.’ He is talking of Steve Reich – an early and ongoing influence on American Football – but he might as well be reflecting what is said of his own band, and the ardent following they inspire. American Football stands as an enduring symbol of elusive emotional landscapes, where introspection can be as dramatic as confrontation

DJ Support: Support by Kenneth Bager, Colleen "Cosmo" Murphy, Phil Mison, Chris Coco, Erki Pruul, Steve Cobby, Max Essa, DJ Gripper, Phil Cooper, La Guardia De La Luz, Johan Blende, Bill Brewster, Mike Salta, Pete Herbert, DJ Dribbler / For Mankind and many more.



Greek duo Bonnie & Klein serve up an Aegean musical escape with their new Glam Pulse EP on Hell Yeah.

George Fountzoulas and Thanasis Skouzis are lifelong Balearic brothers who offer up their own soul-stirring take on the sound on labels like Music For Dreams and NuNorthern Soul. They are inspired by the sunsets and seas of their homeland and bring great imagination to their melodies as this new outing proves.

'Glam Pulse' sets a gorgeous tone from the off with wavy grooves and a peppering of percussion. As well as some singing guitar riffs, sundown synths and shimmering chords make this a steamy and seductive gem. 'Haleakala' is another perfect soundtrack to lazing on the beach and watching the sun sink into the sea while new age motifs wash over you and carry away your woes. Proggy guitars speak to the soul on 'Horizon Avenue' as woody xylophones and wispy leads ride on dubby bass and 'Sunion' closes with hints of melancholy - a lament for the final dance of a long hot summer with lingering trumpets lodging deep in your heart.

Bonnie & Klein tap into real Balearic magic on this EP and effortlessly transport you to a sandy paradise.

Mobile Fidelity's UltraDisc One-Step 180g 45RPM 2LP Set Plays with Authoritative Tonality, Airiness, and Clarity:
Pressed on MoFi SuperVinyl and Strictly Limited to
3,000 Numbered Copies
1/4” / 15 IPS Dolby A analogue master to DSD 256 to analogue console to lathe

Joni Mitchell is the only artist who could’ve made Hejira. The legendary singer-songwriter said as much when discussing the album decades after its release. Yet that fact seemed obvious from the moment the gold-certified effort streeted in fall 1976. An adventurous travelogue, probing narrative, and offbeat homage to freedom, Hejira remains an inimitable entry in the catalog of recorded music — a spare, gorgeous, meditative series of sonic vignettes comprised of floating harmonic pop, cool jazz, soft rock, and sensitive vocal elements that beckon feelings of motion, discovery, and self-examination.

Sourced from the original analog master tapes, pressed at Fidelity Record Pressing on MoFi SuperVinyl, and strictly limited to 3,000 numbered copies, Mobile Fidelity's UltraDisc One-Step 180g 45RPM 2LP set presents the record ranked the 133rd Greatest of All Time by Rolling Stone with definitive detail, richness, accuracy, and directness. Marking the first time the revered LP has received audiophile treatment, it's one of six iconic 1970s Mitchell records Mobile Fidelity is reissuing on vinyl and SACD.

Playing with a virtually nonexistent noise floor, dead-quiet surfaces, and superior groove definition, this collectible reissue reproduces in enveloping fashion the tones, textures, and craftsmanship that help Hejira function as the equivalent of a liberating trip down an open road with nothing but blue sky, natural landscape, and fresh air in the immediate vicinity. Passages bloom, carry, decay as they do amid an acoustically optimized environment. Soundstages extend far, wide, and deep, with black backgrounds and pinpoint images adding to the realism.

The reference-grade immediacy, airiness, and presence put in transparent perspective Mitchell’s dense strings of words, stream-of-conscious-like phrasing, and unhurried albeit forward momentum. Likewise, the instrumental contributions of her A-list support musicians — a cast that includes L.A. Express members John Guerin, Max Bennett and Tom Scott, plus Neil Young, Victor Feldman, and Abe Most — emerges with breathtaking clarity and dimensionality.

While Mitchell, whose intimate vocals and abstract guitar parts center everything, Mobile Fidelity's restoration of Hejira further reveals the visionary breadth of guitarist Larry Carlton and bassist Jaco Pastorius. Though heard on only four tracks, Pastorius' fretless bass epitomizes the fluid, subtle, flexible, roomy, and shape-shifting characteristics of songs that often appear to transpire out of nowhere akin to the formation of a puffy cumulus cloud overhead. In sync with Mitchell’s voice, Pastorius’ fusion hovers and floats, suspended in a fog you want to deeply inhale. The "grace notes" Mitchell desired on Hejira can now be heard in full. Ditto the luxurious tapestries of alinear lines, fills, and supplements unreeled on Carlton’s six-string.

Visually, the packaging of this UD1S set complements its identity as the copy to own. Housed in a deluxe slipcase, the LPs come in foil-stamped jackets with faithful-to-the-original graphics. This version is for listeners who desire to become immersed in everything about Hejira, including the unforgettable album cover — a pastiche of 14 different photos Mitchell used a Camera Lucida to assemble into one image that’s anchored by a portrait of her in a stoic pose — and the interior shots of Mitchell skating on a frozen Wisconsin lake wearing a pair of black skates, black shirt, and fur cape.

The notion of skating, feeling an awakening wind whipping against your face, and losing yourself to the surroundings are extremely apt for Hejira, which Mitchell wrote after a sequence of trips and relationships prompted her to reflect on the complicated conflicts between independence and marriage, success and satisfaction, duty and desire — and, more specifically, “the cost of being a woman.” The Canadian native delved into such themes before. But never as she does on Hejira, whose liberating, running-away aura doubles as another of Mitchell’s rejections of tradition as well as a suggestion of a better alternative.

At once observational and personal, expansive and insular, cheerful and poignant, Hejira spans a sea of human conditions, emotions, and circumstances. It addresses drifting, isolation, pleasure, place, time, and surroundings with strikingly poetic discourse matched with music that, save for the crooned ballad “Blue Motel Room,” forgoes conventional structures and choruses.

The jazz-based arrangements, marked by scaled-down percussion and all manner of bent, rounded, and unsettled notes, hint that Mitchell has no exact destination in mind. Excursions such as the moody “Furry Sings the Blues,” funky “Coyote” and edgy “Black Crow” throw open previously locked doors to possibility and journey. They signal it’s time for a welcome departure from norms and the past, one that leads to a heightened sense of clarity and perspective. Or, as Mitchell said upon choosing the album title, it’s time for “leaving the dream, no blame.”

A warm breeze drifts through the open cabin of the boat, carrying the scent of salt and sunwarmed teak as it stirs the linen curtains. The man moves easily, bare feet against the wooden floor, the slow rhythm of the harbor rocking beneath him. He flips through his records with a knowing touch, pulling out a favorite—something smooth and mellow, with buttery vocals and melodies that drift like a sailboat on calm waters. The needle drops, and honeyed guitar riffs spill into the air, effortless and sunlit. He reaches for the bottle of rum, the ice in his glass chiming softly as he pours, then adds a squeeze of lime, a lazy stir. Outside, the water glows in the last light of day, golden ripples stretching toward the horizon. He leans back against the cushioned bench, drink in hand, the music swirling around him like the evening breeze—unhurried, weightless, exactly where he wants to be.


Small Talk brings together a carefully curated selection of long-forgotten, yet remarkably smooth and captivating soft rock and AOR tracks from the ‘70s and ‘80s, compiled by Brandon McMahon. These lesser-known songs are drenched in lush harmonies, dreamy guitar riffs, and mellow rhythms, capturing the essence of an era without the mainstream recognition. For those with an ear for the obscure and a taste for the subtle, Small Talk offers a fresh perspective on an era’s most overlooked gems.

There are imagined landscapes we all carry within us—dreamed,
half-remembered, or just beyond reach. Lofoten, the new album by
Cate Francesca Brooks on Clay Pipe Music, is a musical reflection on one such place.
Located above the Arctic Circle, Norway's Lofoten Islands are known for their dramatic peaks, open seascapes, and distinctive red fishing cabins dotting the shoreline. Though Brooks has never visited this remote northern region, it became an unexpected source of inspiration.
The project began when Cate listened to a narrated "sleep story" set in the islands. Intrigued, she researched the region and found herself drawn to its stark beauty."I fell in love with creating an impression of somewhere I would probably never visit, but felt a real affinity with," she explains.
This ambitious album translates that connection into sound. Through carefully crafted electronics, melodic themes, richly layered textures and big production, Brooks captures the essence of Lofoten—its icy light, vast horizons, and profound quiet."The other thing that happened around the same time was the first lockdown here in the UK. I had taken the opportunity of having some extra time to learn a new (to me) method of synthesis; that of the Synclavier, which uses one aluminium wheel and an array of buttons to control every parameter of the sound.
"I took to it with intrigue and before I knew it, I had built up hundreds of original sounds, many of which were perfect for the textures I could hear in my head for Lofoten. So that (along with a Prophet synth and a TR-808) became the sound world." Lofoten stands as an evocative testament to how music can transport us to distant places, transforming geographical limitations into imagined creative possibilities.

Carrying on from recent archival releases from masters of Indian classical tradition such as Kamalesh Maitra and the Dagar Brothers, Black Truffle is pleased to present a previously unheard recording of a concert by Pakistani vocalist Salamat Ali Khan. Born to a musician family in Hoshiarpur in the northwestern state of Punjab, Khan moved with his family to Lahore in Pakistan after the 1947 partition of India, becoming a child musical prodigy. Khan was a master of the kyhal form of Hindustani classical vocal music, a style integrating influences from Middle Eastern musical traditions that gives the singer a great deal of improvisational freedom. Travelling widely across the globe from the 1960s until his death in 2001, Khan approached ragas performed in the kyhal style as expressive forums for risk-taking improvisation, enlivened by ceaseless ornamental invention.

This remarkable recording was captured by Michael Hönig (of krautrock legends Agitation Free) in concert at Berlin’s Neue Nationalgalerie as part of the MetaMusik festival in 1974 (which also featured Nico, Tangerine Dream, and Roberto Laneri’s Prima Materia, among many others). Khan, who is also heard accompanying himself on a specially tuned alpine zither (in place of the traditional swarmandal, an Indian style of zither), is joined by Shaukat Hussein Khan on tabla and Hussein Bux Khan on harmonium. The lack of a familiar underlying tanpura drone gives this performance a weightless, floating quality, with all three of the musicians playing masterfully with the interaction between silence and the pulse propelling each section of the raag.

As Khan explains in his opening remarks, this performance of the rainy season Raag Megh is divided into three parts, each with its own tempo and rhythmic scheme (tala). The opening vilambit, in a twelve-beat tala, stretches out for over twenty minutes, lingering for a long time in a space of meditative calm, Khan lightly strumming the zither while exploring the lower end of his range in languorously extended notes. Virtuoso tabla interjections at first barely state the tempo, and the interplay between musicians is so spacious that we hear scraps of audience noise and the squeak of the harmonium’s mechanism in between the notes. Gradually picking up rhythmic definition and melodic complexity, after around fifteen minutes the music builds dramatically, with Khan letting out emotive yelps and swooping scalar shapes ranging across his full vocal range. This flows seamlessly into the following jhaptal, at a faster tempo in ten beats, which then makes way for the concluding teental, very fast in sixteen beats, which becomes a frantic improvisational exchange of daring rhythmic disruptions from the tabla, flowing harmonium melodies, and a stunning variety of vocal approaches from Khan, ranging from rapid-fire staccato consonants to guttural growls.

Accompanied by stunning black and white concert photographs, the LP also contains a moving and entertaining recollection from acclaimed German musicologist Peter Pannke, looking back on his experience assisting Khan and his musicians in Berlin at the Metamusik festival (including a mouth-watering description of a feast cooked by the maestro himself). As Pannke describes in his account of attending the concert, the beauty and spiritual intensity of this music leaves the listener speechless.

With a stream of fascinating appearances Cleyra’s singular production has caught the ears of some of the most adventurous DJs and heads around the world. One of Bristol’s best-kept secrets now lands on Timedance with their sumptuous debut EP ‘remember this body?’. Charged with a juxtaposition between feverish peak time and dreamy downbeat, the producer here displays a sonic palette which is as eerie as it is advanced.

On ’remember this body?’ Cleyra offers a kaleidoscopic view of their diverse approach to crafting songs, nourished with a deep, emotional and seductive energy. Across five tracks we take a deep dive into Cleyra’s idiosyncratic worlds. Subdued pads carry us through lucid-dream-inducing soundscapes where strangeness and elegance go hand in hand. Then come playful twists, as a harder side to their sound is unleashed, engineered to alight the sweatiest and most mutant of dancefloors.

On the flip side, Cleyra takes listeners on a breathtaking ride over the course of a 17-minute epic ’There Is Nothing Happening Between Us’, navigating between mournful ambience and heads-down pulsating Techno with a grace and delicateness rarely heard. The track fades before bringing things home with lush, dubbed-out, synths, suspending time with a poignant elegance

Born from a desire to explore her background in film composing to create a music film, Hannah Holland’s upcoming album 'Last Exit On Bethnal’ is set for release via PRAH Recordings on 18th July. Together with director Lydia Garnett, the multi-faceted London producer shaped ideas born out of images the pair weren’t finding in film, inspired by queer icon filmmakers like Kenneth Anger and Derek Jarman. “We wanted to craft something unapologetically for dykes: a poetic, surreal exploration of dyke power and sexuality set in a fantasy underworld,” explains Holland. Once the film was shot, she channelled its stunning imagery and the energy of the cast into making the record. Seductive and bass-driven, its nine tracks merge sleazy guitars with 707 machine drums, beautiful evolving arps, and surreal moments of Lynchian dreaminess and Aphex Twin-inspired atmospherics. "It was a really amazing collaborative experience and coming together of a community to make something totally unique….and hot!” she continues. The first single ‘Biker’ features a filthy synth hook atop Hannah’s signature bass-guitar, perfectly capturing the raw and sexy energy of the album and its visual centrepiece. You can listen to it here. The film will be screened at a one-off club night at London’s ICA on 11th April in association with Culture Divided, Somesuch and Bala Project.

Hannah Holland has played a pivotal role in London’s alternative and queer London club scene since the mid-noughties. Rooted deeply in London’s fertile musical community, musical exploration and the transcendent potential of dancefloor have always been her biggest inspiration. Her recent delve into experimental theatre, film and TV scores has proved a future further artistic voyage to explore her creative vision. Holland first arrived on dancefloors sharing electro-tinged techno, with equal inspiration taken from the sounds of DnB and jungle heard at legendary parties such as Metalheadz, which she had frequented in her early teens. Having already been “borrowing” (and perhaps never since returning) Kraftwerk, Grace Jones and Talking Heads records from her parents, the influence of this metropolitan musical soup ensured that Holland emerged on the decks with a unique musical character and diverse taste, hallmarks of her sound that she has not lost since. This has been reinforced with trusted residencies at iconic parties such as Trailer Trash, Adonis, Glastonbury’s NYC Downlow, or undertaking far-reaching marathon sets at Berlin’s Panorama Bar. In 2006 Hannah started Batty Bass with vocalist Mama. Immediately a roadblock party and then a record label with releases from Josh Caffe and The Carry Nation sitting in its discography, Batty Bass explores the disparate strains of electro, acid, techno and house. Hannah also released her own music on the label including the ever-anthemic Paris’ Acid Ball.

A steady stream of releases have followed on Shall Not Fade, Super Rhythm Trax, Crosstown Rebels, Classic, Nervous, as well as remixes for Blessed Madonna ft. Kylie Minogue, Planningtorock, The Knife and Goldfrapp among others. Hannah also finds the time to play bass in several bands including Black Gold Buffalo whose debut album she also co-wrote. Her much-anticipated debut album, Tectonic, came out on PRAH Recordings in 2021, with a second on the way. Hannah’s latest venture into the world of film scores have included queer icon Bruce LaBruce’s ‘The Visitor,’ Channel 4 series Adult Material and award-winning indie feature Electrician.

Hannah Holland continues to push the boundaries of electronic and live music, telling stories and carving her own path in the deeper frequencies.

A mix of metallic doomgaze, epic gothic soundscapes and post punk attitude. Loud and crushing, yet sharp enough to stick in your head for days. There are two kinds of heavy bands: the ones that make a lot of noise and the ones that drag you somewhere you didn't know you needed to go. Cwfen (pronounced 'Coven') are the latter, and Sorrows is a record that doesn't just crush - it haunts long after the final note. The allure of Cwfen's sound lies in contrasts: the glacial ferocity of Amenra, with the velvet-and-razor vocals of King Woman, and the rotting grandeur of Type O Negative. It's as hypnotic as it is harrowing, but somehow even better than the sum of those parts. Since emerging from Glasgow's underground just 18 months ago, Cwfen's reputation is growing, selling out shows and pulling growing audiences into their doom-laden fever dream. Released in October, the band's debut single 'Reliks' was a hit with fans and critics, landing a spot on Kerrang!'s release of the week playlist. And rightly so. Their sound devours and delights in equal measure. "Cwfen have emerged from the darkest depths of the Caledonian underground with a beguiling blend of doom metal and gothic post-punk for those who like to live deliciously." Kerrang! Sorrows lives in the space around doom where the weight of the riffs is matched by the weight in your chest, where the lyrics and the songwriting are as important as the music itself. Loud and crushing, yet sharp enough to stick in your head for days. It builds, burns, collapses, resurrects. Big on riffs, bigger on feeling. The kind of songs you carry with you. Singer and rhythm guitarist Agnes Alder bears her claws one minute, then whispers the next, as the band follows like a storm front, rising, breaking, drowning you in the weight of it. From the guttural Penance to the lush Whispers, to the feral Wolfsbane and the insurrectionist Rite. It includes a long reworking of Embers and Bodies, the two self-recorded demos that launched them into the scene with a bang and their growing legion of fans already adore. Intricate vocal arrangements, heavy and harsh guitars, a mix of atmosphere and heft, it undoubtedly punches above its weight for a debut. As Agnes says: "When we stopped trying to fit into any one space, what came out was this beautiful mix of dark and light. Something visceral and cathartic." This is a band that sits right in the boundaries between the heavy genres, pulling in everyone from the young goths and to the die-hard metalheads alike and 'Sorrows' truly does deliver in spades. Make no mistake, Cwfen are set to be one of the names to watch in 2025. FFO: Chelsea Wolfe, Zetra, King Woman, Type O Negative, Alcest, Faetooth, Liturgy. Limited vinyl pressing, 500 copies in transparent red vinyl. Full colour Gatefold outer sleeve, with a full colour printed inner sleeve, Full download included as well.

Introducing E35. The spiritual successor to Nduja.
E35.01 is Landmarks by Fabiano. Maximalist ambient collages for the worldbuilding sensitive.
‘Instead of escaping somewhere else, this time I want to be here.’

Man was meant to replace God as the universal measure. The events of the 20th and 21st centuries, however, have brutalized the creature once known as Man beyond recognition. There is no going back. We are left with an erased image, a misnomer-a sacred animal wasting away in a profane world. Man is both insufficient and irreplaceable. Man Under Erasure is a musical exploration of this new, uncertain universe, where the last remnants of humanist hopes and dreams have been reduced to embers-barely legible carvings etched into eroding earth. Our trust in ourselves has been misplaced. Everything we ever knew will be erased. Feversea is a post-metal band from Oslo, Norway drawing on influences from black metal, sludge metal and shoegaze. Their music lies in the intersection of fast black'n'roll ferocity, heavy and fierce metal riffage and ritualistic and ethereal soundscapes. Musically, their debut album Man Under Erasure draws from various forms of metal while incorporating influences from neofolk and post-punk. The album is melancholic, despairing, and cathartic. Haunting and melodic while maintaining a strong sense of structure with recognizable riffs-an element often lacking in atmosphere-driven music. Fluctuating between song and scream, the voice is both from beyond and from below. Lyrically, it is deeply personal but delivered through impersonal images, parables, and riddles-like a spiritualist or Orphic medium carrying messages from beyond. A muffled scream buried under several inches of ice. The album begins in sardonic despair and ends with uneasy, desperate acceptance.

Rhiannon Giddens reunites with her former Carolina Chocolate Drops bandmate Justin Robinson on What Did the Blackbird Say to the Crow, an album of North Carolina fiddle and banjo music. Produced by Giddens and Joseph "joebass" DeJarnette, the album features Giddens on banjo and Robinson on fiddle, with the duo playing eighteen of their favourite North Carolina tunes: a mix of instrumentals and tunes with words.

Many were learned from their late mentor, the legendary North Carolina Piedmont musician Joe Thompson; one is from another musical hero, the late Etta Baker, from whom they also learned by listening to recordings of her playing. Giddens and Robinson recorded the album outdoors and on location at Thompson’s and Baker’s North Carolina homes, as well as the former plantation Mill Prong House. They were accompanied by the sounds of nature, including two different broods of cicadas, which had not emerged simultaneously since 1803, creating a true once-in-a-lifetime soundscape. The duo, along with four other string musicians including the multi-instrumentalist Dirk Powell, will embark on the Rhiannon Giddens & The Old-Time Revue North America tour in April.

“With the assaults on reality going on in the world today, we wanted to offer another kind of record, like walking back onto a gravel or dirt road while a stampede goes the other way,” Giddens says. “With the cicada choir, this record could’ve only happened at a certain time in the last 120 years. We doubled down on place, time, realness, and old-fashioned front porch music. It’s a reminder that another way exists, with music made for your community’s enjoyment and for dancing–not solely for commercial purposes.

“What is the role of music in our society?” she wonders. “How do we de-couple it from unfettered capitalism, where music is a product and musicians are incidental? How do we use the tools and system that we have been bequeathed in a way that reminds us of other ways of being?” Robinson adds, "Recording this album felt like being back in the saddle. Just this time Joe is not here, and his fiddle is under my chin. The album is about home, the cicadas, the storms, the music, and the people who make it feel like home."

Thompson was one of the last musicians of his era and his community to carry on the southern Black string band tradition. He played a crucial role in the lives of Giddens and Robinson, who, along with their Carolina Chocolate Drops bandmate Dom Flemons, spent their formative years learning from Thompson in traditional apprentice/mentor relationships. His influence has guided all of their artistic journeys as well as their mission to keep the legacy of the Black string band tradition alive.

In further tribute to Giddens’ North Carolina roots, What Did the Blackbird Say to the Crow will arrive just a week before Biscuits & Banjos, the inaugural edition of her first festival, which highlights the deep roots and enduring legacy of Black music, art, and culture while fostering community and storytelling. The sold-out festival will feature a much-anticipated Carolina Chocolate Drops reunion, their first performance together in more than a decade.

Kneading dough is tricky – you should know how it’s supposed to feel. If you try too hard you could make it worse. It’s a beautiful practice – creation with a gentle touch, to work at something so it can be left alone. “If it’s too drawn out it’s awful. It’s easy to give too much.” Dance in the mirror. Contemplate your veiny hands. Who do they remind you of?

You begin by mixing flour and water. “What happens when your people die? Why’d they move the rock to the other side of Ulster Park?” Eliza Niemi asks two seemingly unrelated questions in a rising melody with guitar accompaniment, like fingers playing spider up to the nape of your neck. Gentle pressure. Strands of gluten form to bind the mix. A new question lingers in the binding. When she admits “but I don’t know how to tell if I’m feeling it or not,” that question surfaces through the text. It is reiterated throughout the album. When I’m working with dough I think the same thing to myself.

On Progress Bakery, her second album as a solo artist, Eliza knows to leave some questions alone – to let juxtaposition and tension be the proof. It doesn’t have to be hard. The feelings and revelations they provoke rise in the heat. The smell is sweet. Crispy on the outside and soft all the way through. She playfully slip-slides through words and sounds and images, delighting in surprise, skimming ideas like stones cast across clear water, touching down briefly with uncommon grace.

The question provoked between those opening lines resurfaces in the strands between songs – “Do U FM” is fully formed and beautifully layered, while “Novelist Sad Face” is a short, acapella rendering of gentle curiosity. What is holding these ideas together? Some songs demand more, seem to carry a whole load – eventually the skipping stone will halt to sink and resume its idle duty – while others drift in and out of focus, the way thoughts and dreams become interwoven before the mind is sunk into true sleep.

Music and words don’t always have to interact. Where she decides to keep them apart gives a new contour to where and how she puts them together. The kind of thing you’re supposed to take for granted with songs and their singers comes alive in Eliza’s hands – the little miracle of mixing, kneading, stretching, and stopping.

So often on Progress Bakery, Eliza teases out truth and meaning by asking questions. “Do I wanna be crying?” “Do you want me good or do you want me bad?” “Do I need an eye test?” “I’m writing songs in my head while you’re going over stuff with me — is that cruel??” In “Pocky” Eliza ends with a question that feels to me like the actual biography, succinct and revealing:

I don’t wanna be made to see
I just wanna ask “what’s that?”

Grace that ought to be rare, but in its care and precision is offered humbly, with great generosity, and without announcing itself. Eliza’s simple, miraculous music is given further form and shape by a group of collaborators – invaluable guest musicians Jeremy Ray, Evan Cartwright, Steven McPhail, Kenny Boothby, Ed Squires, Carolina Chauffe, Dorothea Paas, Louie Short, and Avalon Tassonyi. Together with Louie Short, who recorded, mixed, and produced the album along with Jeremy Ray and Lukas Cheung, Eliza has cultivated a richness in sound and texture that prods and provokes the ticklish ear. Barely audible guitar tinkering, a brief lo-fi field recording of trumpets, the harmonic clicking of a looped synthesizer, a flourish of reeds, a child’s conversation, each uncanny sound perfectly placed, rippling out under a soft breeze.

Lay in bed alone at night and ask aloud to the stillness,

“What were you doing at the Albuquerque Airport?
What were you doing there??”

And hear your question answered by a dream of swelling, undulating cellos. Try to grasp at the melody and structure. It’s not an answer (if there could be one), but it moves deeper, closer to the weird layer of fleeting moments and disconnected images, barely perceptible at its core. Wait for the dream reel to click into place.

Eliza took me for a ride in Nicole (her beloved Dodge Grand Caravan) and told me she’d been thinking of the album as an embodiment of transition – and I think every transition, known or unknown, carries the weight of new meaning, skittering off the surface tension of life as you know it, creating ripples, sometimes bouncing off and sometimes breaking through. There is a trick you can use to tell if a dough is glutinous enough. You’re supposed to stretch it out as thin as you can without breaking it and hold it up to the light. If you can see through, even if it renders the world murky and uncertain, you should leave it alone. I love this trick. It’s one that Eliza seems to know intuitively: work gently and ask questions and don’t always expect answers, and when you can, take a glimpse at something new, and then leave.

Kneading dough is tricky – you should know how it’s supposed to feel. If you try too hard you could make it worse. It’s a beautiful practice – creation with a gentle touch, to work at something so it can be left alone. “If it’s too drawn out it’s awful. It’s easy to give too much.” Dance in the mirror. Contemplate your veiny hands. Who do they remind you of?

You begin by mixing flour and water. “What happens when your people die? Why’d they move the rock to the other side of Ulster Park?” Eliza Niemi asks two seemingly unrelated questions in a rising melody with guitar accompaniment, like fingers playing spider up to the nape of your neck. Gentle pressure. Strands of gluten form to bind the mix. A new question lingers in the binding. When she admits “but I don’t know how to tell if I’m feeling it or not,” that question surfaces through the text. It is reiterated throughout the album. When I’m working with dough I think the same thing to myself.

On Progress Bakery, her second album as a solo artist, Eliza knows to leave some questions alone – to let juxtaposition and tension be the proof. It doesn’t have to be hard. The feelings and revelations they provoke rise in the heat. The smell is sweet. Crispy on the outside and soft all the way through. She playfully slip-slides through words and sounds and images, delighting in surprise, skimming ideas like stones cast across clear water, touching down briefly with uncommon grace.

The question provoked between those opening lines resurfaces in the strands between songs – “Do U FM” is fully formed and beautifully layered, while “Novelist Sad Face” is a short, acapella rendering of gentle curiosity. What is holding these ideas together? Some songs demand more, seem to carry a whole load – eventually the skipping stone will halt to sink and resume its idle duty – while others drift in and out of focus, the way thoughts and dreams become interwoven before the mind is sunk into true sleep.

Music and words don’t always have to interact. Where she decides to keep them apart gives a new contour to where and how she puts them together. The kind of thing you’re supposed to take for granted with songs and their singers comes alive in Eliza’s hands – the little miracle of mixing, kneading, stretching, and stopping.

So often on Progress Bakery, Eliza teases out truth and meaning by asking questions. “Do I wanna be crying?” “Do you want me good or do you want me bad?” “Do I need an eye test?” “I’m writing songs in my head while you’re going over stuff with me — is that cruel??” In “Pocky” Eliza ends with a question that feels to me like the actual biography, succinct and revealing:

I don’t wanna be made to see
I just wanna ask “what’s that?”

Grace that ought to be rare, but in its care and precision is offered humbly, with great generosity, and without announcing itself. Eliza’s simple, miraculous music is given further form and shape by a group of collaborators – invaluable guest musicians Jeremy Ray, Evan Cartwright, Steven McPhail, Kenny Boothby, Ed Squires, Carolina Chauffe, Dorothea Paas, Louie Short, and Avalon Tassonyi. Together with Louie Short, who recorded, mixed, and produced the album along with Jeremy Ray and Lukas Cheung, Eliza has cultivated a richness in sound and texture that prods and provokes the ticklish ear. Barely audible guitar tinkering, a brief lo-fi field recording of trumpets, the harmonic clicking of a looped synthesizer, a flourish of reeds, a child’s conversation, each uncanny sound perfectly placed, rippling out under a soft breeze.

Lay in bed alone at night and ask aloud to the stillness,

“What were you doing at the Albuquerque Airport?
What were you doing there??”

And hear your question answered by a dream of swelling, undulating cellos. Try to grasp at the melody and structure. It’s not an answer (if there could be one), but it moves deeper, closer to the weird layer of fleeting moments and disconnected images, barely perceptible at its core. Wait for the dream reel to click into place.

Eliza took me for a ride in Nicole (her beloved Dodge Grand Caravan) and told me she’d been thinking of the album as an embodiment of transition – and I think every transition, known or unknown, carries the weight of new meaning, skittering off the surface tension of life as you know it, creating ripples, sometimes bouncing off and sometimes breaking through. There is a trick you can use to tell if a dough is glutinous enough. You’re supposed to stretch it out as thin as you can without breaking it and hold it up to the light. If you can see through, even if it renders the world murky and uncertain, you should leave it alone. I love this trick. It’s one that Eliza seems to know intuitively: work gently and ask questions and don’t always expect answers, and when you can, take a glimpse at something new, and then leave.

Kneading dough is tricky – you should know how it’s supposed to feel. If you try too hard you could make it worse. It’s a beautiful practice – creation with a gentle touch, to work at something so it can be left alone. “If it’s too drawn out it’s awful. It’s easy to give too much.” Dance in the mirror. Contemplate your veiny hands. Who do they remind you of?

You begin by mixing flour and water. “What happens when your people die? Why’d they move the rock to the other side of Ulster Park?” Eliza Niemi asks two seemingly unrelated questions in a rising melody with guitar accompaniment, like fingers playing spider up to the nape of your neck. Gentle pressure. Strands of gluten form to bind the mix. A new question lingers in the binding. When she admits “but I don’t know how to tell if I’m feeling it or not,” that question surfaces through the text. It is reiterated throughout the album. When I’m working with dough I think the same thing to myself.

On Progress Bakery, her second album as a solo artist, Eliza knows to leave some questions alone – to let juxtaposition and tension be the proof. It doesn’t have to be hard. The feelings and revelations they provoke rise in the heat. The smell is sweet. Crispy on the outside and soft all the way through. She playfully slip-slides through words and sounds and images, delighting in surprise, skimming ideas like stones cast across clear water, touching down briefly with uncommon grace.

The question provoked between those opening lines resurfaces in the strands between songs – “Do U FM” is fully formed and beautifully layered, while “Novelist Sad Face” is a short, acapella rendering of gentle curiosity. What is holding these ideas together? Some songs demand more, seem to carry a whole load – eventually the skipping stone will halt to sink and resume its idle duty – while others drift in and out of focus, the way thoughts and dreams become interwoven before the mind is sunk into true sleep.

Music and words don’t always have to interact. Where she decides to keep them apart gives a new contour to where and how she puts them together. The kind of thing you’re supposed to take for granted with songs and their singers comes alive in Eliza’s hands – the little miracle of mixing, kneading, stretching, and stopping.

So often on Progress Bakery, Eliza teases out truth and meaning by asking questions. “Do I wanna be crying?” “Do you want me good or do you want me bad?” “Do I need an eye test?” “I’m writing songs in my head while you’re going over stuff with me — is that cruel??” In “Pocky” Eliza ends with a question that feels to me like the actual biography, succinct and revealing:

I don’t wanna be made to see
I just wanna ask “what’s that?”

Grace that ought to be rare, but in its care and precision is offered humbly, with great generosity, and without announcing itself. Eliza’s simple, miraculous music is given further form and shape by a group of collaborators – invaluable guest musicians Jeremy Ray, Evan Cartwright, Steven McPhail, Kenny Boothby, Ed Squires, Carolina Chauffe, Dorothea Paas, Louie Short, and Avalon Tassonyi. Together with Louie Short, who recorded, mixed, and produced the album along with Jeremy Ray and Lukas Cheung, Eliza has cultivated a richness in sound and texture that prods and provokes the ticklish ear. Barely audible guitar tinkering, a brief lo-fi field recording of trumpets, the harmonic clicking of a looped synthesizer, a flourish of reeds, a child’s conversation, each uncanny sound perfectly placed, rippling out under a soft breeze.

Lay in bed alone at night and ask aloud to the stillness,

“What were you doing at the Albuquerque Airport?
What were you doing there??”

And hear your question answered by a dream of swelling, undulating cellos. Try to grasp at the melody and structure. It’s not an answer (if there could be one), but it moves deeper, closer to the weird layer of fleeting moments and disconnected images, barely perceptible at its core. Wait for the dream reel to click into place.

Eliza took me for a ride in Nicole (her beloved Dodge Grand Caravan) and told me she’d been thinking of the album as an embodiment of transition – and I think every transition, known or unknown, carries the weight of new meaning, skittering off the surface tension of life as you know it, creating ripples, sometimes bouncing off and sometimes breaking through. There is a trick you can use to tell if a dough is glutinous enough. You’re supposed to stretch it out as thin as you can without breaking it and hold it up to the light. If you can see through, even if it renders the world murky and uncertain, you should leave it alone. I love this trick. It’s one that Eliza seems to know intuitively: work gently and ask questions and don’t always expect answers, and when you can, take a glimpse at something new, and then leave.

T. Gowdy returns with a major statement and luminous stylistic expansion on his third album for Constellation. Trill Scan is an exquisite suite of songs literally and figuratively about alchemy, where Gowdy melds his background in choral and medieval music with his trademark analogue electronics. Following the acclaimed Miracles (Bleep Album of the Week / Albums of the Year 2022), Gowdy's bar-raising new LP centers human voice for the first time. Choral set-pieces and solo lead vocals, along with his own lute playing, are novel elements in Gowdy's work, and draw on strains of Middle Ages polyphony and the Baroque "broken style" to further distinguish Trill Scan from anything in his discography to date. Gowdy sees "the modal language of medieval Europe as a less distant cousin to indigenous traditional music practice" compared to a Classical-colonial "patriarchal order of tonality that honours a system of domination." The 12th century Notre Dame School of choral music and 17th century style brisé each carry tonal materiality, heterodox technique, and cultural-historical symbolism central to Trill Scan's conceptual and compositional alchemy. Gowdy coheres these beautifully into his palette of serpentine slowburn electronics, a minimal analogue-driven techno shaped by aleatory strategies and tinged with post-punk grit. Gowdy's sound has been aptly described as "gently transportative, flickering like a busted halogen lamp" and his overriding pursuit of psychoacoustic immanence likened to "getting your brain massaged" and praised as "blissful work that bristles with effervescent energy, like brain waves coming in and out of focus." Trill Scan expands this sonic sensibility with more conspicuous harmonic complexity, stylistic variety, and humanistic narrative arc. Alternately sacramental and intimately personal vocals, sometimes wordless and sometimes lyrical, are worked into superlative instrumental tracks, yielding a warmly immersive concept album that's equally Gowdy's most musical. Gowdy sings explicitly of alchemy on the hypnotic album centerpiece "Novus Lumen" with lyrics that gesture at these medieval processes of material investigation. The tension between the scientific and esoteric is crucial; the separation and synthesis of physical substances in medieval alchemy maps onto his fixation with the interplay between the materiality of sound and psychoacoustics. Gowdy follows the Jungian interpretation of classic alchemical texts as an historical bridge to theories of the psyche, where consciousness itself is treated as materiality and similarly subjected to methodical analysis and experimentation, to deconstruction, dissolution, transformation, reintegration, metamorphosis. Song titles like "Arislei Bone" and "Materiadiscipuli" further reference these mythopoetic throughlines from medieval alchemy to modern psychology. Gowdy chooses disruptive forms from the history of Western music that symbolize and prefigure the modern psychological subject and its struggle for/against order, even as they also evoke liturgy and the Renaissance court. The sacramental adds a potent dimension to his pursuit of psychoacoustic activation, meditation, and transcendence, as choral passages intersperse with electronic drone and pointillism throughout the album. His gorgeous Fennesz-meets-lute rendition of the Baroque composition "Courante" by François Dufault offers idiomatic salon-secular counterpoint. Album closer "Strewn" is bookended by a final recurrence of choral invocation, with pulsing earworm motorik techno in between, over which Gowdy whisper-sings a dreamlike vision quest of mythic-alchemical imagery: "as I washed my eyes they turned to metal / and the memories melted to the metal / the metal of my heart." A mesmerizing final song that explicitly invokes Gowdy's search for materialized abstraction and substantive musical immanence wrought from his own psycho-therapeutic subjectivity, and encapsulates the album's turn towards more harmonic, historicized, and humanistic elements. Trill Scan commingles empyrean and earthly electronic songcraft to genuinely original and absorbing effect. Thanks for listening. RIYL: Coil, Nicolás Jaar, Alessandro Cortini, Pantha Du Prince, Fennesz, Visible Cloaks, Actress,

A true return to form and jewel in the crown of their iconic discography, Renascence picks up where their 1974 album Promised Heights left off – a spiritual and sonic follow-up, bringing a fresh modern edge to their iconic sound, which remains foundational to early hip-hop and funk scenes in the United States and UK. Renascence tells the story of a band that never fully got its due back in the day; but are back to take the crown by remaining true to themselves – politically aware, and spiritually positive with infectious grooves.

To mark Black History Month and celebrate the 60th anniversary of Martin Luther King’s Nobel Peace Prize, a special edition picture-disc vinyl will be released. This unique, limited-edition record pays tribute to the historic March for Civil Rights with meticulously restored recordings, including the iconic “I Have a Dream” speech and inspiring music. More than just a musical piece, this vinyl serves as a time capsule—a bridge between generations to carry forward the universal message of justice and equality.

Since the late 90"s, Jakob "Dino" Dinesen has become a stalwart of the Danish jazz scene, performing with nearly everyone of note in the country as well as internationally celebrated names such as Kurt Rosenwinkel, Jeff "Tain" Watts, Jakob Bro and Paul Motian. Finding joy and inspiration in the building of bridges between genre boundaries, his career in music has seen him travel and perform all over the world, enriching his sound and soul with every new experience. His new record seeks to convey his dream of a future world at peace with itself. "Slow Flow" is set to release on January 25th on April Records. "I envision a world where people from every corner of the globe come together, dancing, sharing meals, and finding joy through my music. My children are a blend of Africa and Denmark, and I hope they"ll carry the traditions and wisdom of both their mother and father as they navigate their path. I would love for music like this to be the soundtrack to their journey through life." Rooted in the playful live sound of an atypical quintet featuring cello and djembe, Slow Flow sits in a unique space somewhere between earthy, simplistic, and acoustic and contemporary, electronic, and unexpected. The record"s sound is soft spoken and full of compassion-a dark-timbred music where the intimate, warm breath of his tenor saxophone intertwines with the crisp, organic tones of the cello. Together, they float over smooth, analog synths and electronic loops, while the carefully crafted lines of the bass and the gentle rhythm of hands on drum skins carry the music forward. Occasional erratic, quirky bursts from an affected keyboard and weaving improvisations offer moments of energy and contrast. Each of the album"s nine original compositions paint musical pictures of contentment that are dear to Dino, as well as offering musical tributes to four of his heroes in Yusef Lateef, Wayne Shorter, Coleman Hawkins and Eddie "Lockjaw" Davis". Drawing on modern European jazz, African rhythms, Italian circus music, and reggae, Slow Flow plays as a deeply personal exploration of Dino"s identity, whilst providing a dream-like message of global peace that promises to resonate with like-minded people all around the world..

F.U.N. Is Now Available In A Limited Frosted Shadow Colored Vinyl Pressing!

The latest full length album from Detroit mainstays Slum Village, F.U.N., has now made its way to vinyl. The 12-track project is their first album in nearly ten years and includes fresh collaborations with Larry June, Cordae, Eric Roberson, Robert Glasper , Karriem Riggins, Abstract Orchestra, Sango, Phat Kat, Daru Jones, Earlly Mac, The Dramatics and more. 2015's critically acclaimed Yes! further cemented T3 and Young RJ's ability to effectively carry on the legacy of the seminal rap group, retaining its essence while evolving its sound with fresh new energy. However, with last year's sold out tour in Europe, and the release of the Larry June and The Dramatics-assisted "Just Like You", it was revealed that the duo was back in the lab together working on a new Slum Village album. F.U.N. finds Slum Village expanding on their signature certain sound, but still staying close to their hometown roots: Young RJ explains- “We wanted to just try something new, so we focused on making Disco-inspired music,” and T3 notes that the recording process all “began with collecting old Disco records.” For fans who wonder why the sonic shift, and why the long hiatus between proper albums, T3 says “Slum is still here. We’re still relevant and we’re still trying to push the envelope. Sometimes people put too many rules on music, and without sounding cliche, we wanted to just have fun with this album.” F.U.N., indeed.

The Juan Maclean returns to DFA with ‘What Do You Feel Free About?,’ an electro-disco club cut paired with a remix by Man Power (ESP Institute, Correspondant).

The new single is sparse and anchored by a relentlessly catchy, bouncing bass line. Nancy Whang’s vocals carry a sense of urgency and directness as she advises to “keep your emotions secure / when you don’t, it gets personal.” Rave whistles, cowbell breakdowns and handclaps further ensure the track’s place as a key song for the summertime. The remix from Man Power remix reformats the track for the club with a dubbed out, layered vocal arrangement that adds a touch more drama to the track.

The single was produced by Juan Maclean in Brooklyn, New York in the spring of 2018. The song was co-written by live band member Monika Heidemann, who also contributed backup vocals.

Juan Maclean is a Brooklyn-based DJ and producer who has been a mainstay of the New York club scene, as well as maintaining a rigorous international touring schedule, since the release of his first records on DFA in 2002. He’s released an extensive catalogue of 12” singles and LPs for the label with vocalist Nancy Whang (most recently, 2014’s In A Dream LP, and last year’s 12” single ‘The Brighter The Light’). They are currently at work on their fourth album.

London-based label Dancing With Strangers is back, after a brief hiatus, with the third edition being served up by none other than head honcho Oliver Moon.

On his third solo outing as an artist, Moon delivers two solid tracks in the shape of ‘Downstream' and ‘Drifting’. Both of which exercise his signature raw take on production and showcase an ability to carry a consistent groove whilst weaving deep, dreamy sounds into classy percussive work.

Dancing With Strangers Co-founder Agile Kind returns on remix duties to tackle ‘Downstream’ and does so wonderfully. Following the lead baseline, he layers lush pads around crisp skippy drum programming and lands on pure euphoria.

Last but certainly not least, the inimitable Carl Finlow (2020 Vision) rounds off the EP with a stellar electro remix of ‘Drifting’. Leading with a thick, growling bass and fusing cinematic synth work with playful acid stabs, Finlow captures the essence of the original. The end result is a beautifully emotive track entwined with stunning melodic elements destined for the dancefloor.

Produced by Lenny Kravitz (Executive) and Fela Kuti’s original engineer Sodi Marciszewer (Artistic). Worldwide tour in 2024 / 2025 (North America, Europe, Australia). New album from 2018 Grammy nominated album “Black Times”. Seun Kuti set to release highly anticipated album ‘Heavier Yet (Lays The Crownless Head)’ featuring guests Damian Marley and Sampa The Great on October 4th. Afrobeat virtuoso Seun Kuti is gearing up to unleash his latest musical masterpiece upon the world with the upcoming release of his album that will be set to make waves globally via Milan independent label Record Kicks. Coming 6 years after the Grammy nominated album ‘Black times’, this album marks a pivotal moment in Seun Kuti's illustrious career, showcasing his evolution as an artist and activist. Executive produced by legendary musician Lenny Kravitz and Fela Kuti’s original engineer Sodi Marciszewer (artistic producer), ‘Heavier Yet (Lays The Crownless Head)’ promises to deliver a sonic experience like no other. With both Kravitz's and Sodi’s expertise together with Seun Kuti's unmatched talent, the album is poised to redefine the boundaries of contemporary music while staying true to the roots of afrobeat. Featuring a tracklist of six electrifying songs, each track on ‘Heavier Yet (Lays The Crownless Head)’ embodies the spirit of resistance, resilience, and revolution. Each song talks about standing up against challenges and fighting for change. Like the standalone singles ‘Dey’ feat reggae icon Damian Marley, described as “a song about embracing and championing who we are, regardless” and ‘Emi Aluta’, “a song about struggle (Aluta means struggle) that pays homage to all the great revolutionaries”, that features Zambian singer, rapper and songwriter, Sampa The Great, one of best and most innovative lyricists of our time. The song ‘T.O.P.’ is about “how society values money and success more than people”. Seun Kuti wants to change this by promoting empathy and reconnecting with nature. In another song, ‘Love & Revolution,’ he expresses his love for his wife and believes that true love can inspire people to make the world a better place. “This project has been very special to me from the moment I conceived it, speaking to Lenny Kravitz, who has shown me such a brotherly love and respect” Seun says. “He has brought me to his home. I met his daughter Zoe and he has guided us with fierceness. Since we spoke about the album, three years ago, as the executive producer of this project, he has always been by our side and very supportive”. “I want to thank Craig Ross and Sodi, the producer of this project. We had a great time. It was the first time for me in the studio with Sodi and I was really impressed by his work and his fatherly advice and dedication”. Each song on the album is a testament to Seun Kuti's unwavering commitment to using music as a tool for social change and empowerment. Through his powerful lyrics and infectious grooves, he continues to carry on the legacy of his father, the legendary Fela Kuti, while carving out his own path in the world of music. As a musician and pan-African activist, Seun has been involved in a number of campaigns in recent years, including #EndSARS – a social movement against police brutality in Nigeria. Significantly, he’s revived the Movement of the People (M.O.P.), the political party his father set up in 1979, which was quashed by the military government not long after Fela’s failed presidential bid. Fans can expect an album that not only entertains but also inspires and ignites a spirit of activism and liberation. Seun Kuti is a Nigerian musician, singer, and songwriter renowned for his captivating performances and socially conscious music. He is the youngest son of Afro beat pioneer Fela Kuti. Seun has spent most of his life preserving and extending his father's political and musical legacy as the leader of his father's former band Egypt 80. As a developing saxophonist and percussionist, he entered the formal ranks of the band before he was 12. In 1997 when Fela passed, in fulfilment of his father's wishes, Seun assumed the mantle as head of Egypt 80 and he has run it ever since. During his career, Seun Kuti released 4 albums with Egypt 80: ‘Many Things’ (2008), ‘From Africa with Fury: Rise for Knitting Factory Records’ (2011), coproduced by Brian Eno and John Reynolds, ‘A Long Way Beginning’ (2014) and the Grammy nominated ‘Black Times’ (2018) that included a feature from Carlos Santana. They also released numerous EPs. Seun has played for enthusiastically receptive audiences globally and collaborated with many great artists. In 2022, he joined forces with Roots frontman and MC extraordinaire Black Thought in the EP ‘African Dreams’. In 2023, Seun collaborated on Janelle Monae's ‘The Age of Pleasure’ (Grammy nominee for Album Of The Year) with the two singles 'Float' and 'Knows Better', teamed up with Talib Kweli and MadLib for their album ‘Liberation 2’ on the song ‘Nat Turner’ featuring Cassper Nyovest and released a new version of the single ‘Bad Man Lighter’ with Black Thought, featuring Vic Mensa

Black Vinyl. In Rumi's poem A Great Wagon he writes of a place of total acceptance. "Out beyond ideas of wrongdoing and rightdoing, there is a field. I'll meet you there," It is a boundless, liminal space where we can release the judgments we make and carry of ourselves, and the comparisons to others. When we think of this field, there is a sense of tranquility that only comes when we are undisturbed by the shadow self and see existence as neither bright nor dim, white nor black. But as lead singer Greg Bertens explains, arriving there is a whole different story. "This is a poem I've returned to over the years, and I love the idea of this place, but getting there is life's journey." Bertens adds "I think the longing for and elusiveness of this field is a recurring theme in our music." Field is enveloped by themes of regret, disconnection and frustration but with the space to understand that these feelings are a natural part of the struggle between reconciling the inner and outer self. The Los Angeles/San Francisco-based group have been indie shoegaze stalwarts since their formation in 2001. After two decades and a handful of line-up changes, their extensive discography presents a dynamically textural, lush psychedelic rock that has featured guest appearances by members of Pavement, My Bloody Valentine, and Snow Patrol, among others. 2021's LP We Weren't Here (Sonic Ritual) was hailed for its dense instrumental blanket, where unrelenting hi-hats and heavy kicks exist alongside dreamy drone guitar. This propulsive nature permeates Field, as members Bertens, Noël Brydebell (vocals), Nyles Lannon (guitar), Jason Ruck (synths), Justin LaBo (bass), and Adam Wade (drums) produce a kaleidoscopic sonic landscape. Patient, sprawling instrumentation builds a foundation in which Bertens' themes of endurance, perseverance and clarity can bloom with a considered poise. As a lyricist who writes in response to the instrumental arrangements, rather than a focus on a specific theme or person, Field is a testament to Film School's ability to create in the moment, and to showcase the magic that stems from when we are truly present. With over two decades in the industry, Field cements Film School as a distinct, dominant force in the shoegaze scene. Soaked in an emotionally open, imaginative atmosphere, the album is both singular and expansive, and leaves the door open for a constantly evolving interpretation. Film School have never confined themselves to the rigidity of specifics, and it's on Field that they urge us to look beyond the binary of certainty, and to take a second look.

The latest full length album from Detroit mainstays Slum Village, F.U.N., has now made its way to vinyl. The 12-track project is their first album in nearly ten years and includes fresh collaborations with Larry June, Cordae, Eric Roberson, Robert Glasper , Karriem Riggins, Abstract Orchestra, Sango, Phat Kat, Daru Jones, Earlly Mac, The Dramatics and more. 2015's critically acclaimed Yes! further cemented T3 and Young RJ's ability to effectively carry on the legacy of the seminal rap group, retaining its essence while evolving its sound with fresh new energy. However, with last year's sold out tour in Europe, and the release of the Larry June and The Dramatics-assisted "Just Like You", it was revealed that the duo was back in the lab together working on a new Slum Village album. F.U.N. finds Slum Village expanding on their signature certain sound, but still staying close to their hometown roots: Young RJ explains- “We wanted to just try something new, so we focused on making Disco-inspired music,” and T3 notes that the recording process all “began with collecting old Disco records.” For fans who wonder why the sonic shift, and why the long hiatus between proper albums, T3 says “Slum is still here. We’re still relevant and we’re still trying to push the envelope. Sometimes people put too many rules on music, and without sounding cliche, we wanted to just have fun with this album.” F.U.N., indeed.

Flevans, vielseitiger Produzent und Multiinstrumentalist aus dem südenglischen Brighton, ist bekannt dafür, sich nie auf einen bestimmten Sound festzulegen. Auf seiner neuen LP "Stand Tall" beweist er einmal wieder sein Gespür für den perfekten Hook, während er Genres wie Disco, Soul und Electronica durchquert und abschliessend auf Drum & Bass hinweist.

After remaining unavailable for years, here's the long-awaited vinyl reissue of the debut album (originally released in 1972) by one of the epoch-making groups in the history of Peruvian rock: We All Together. Their original compositions -all sung in English- betray their passion for McCartney, taking Beatle centrism to new heights in South America. While the Uruguayan Los Shakers could remind us of the first phase of the Fab 4, We All Together is like their '70s version. Amazing compositions, with nods to prog rock and the twilight imprint of singer-songwriters living the end of the hippy dream, that show both diversity and a defined identity. A must for any '70s rock collector. DESCRIPTION Between 1967 and 1974 Saúl and Manuel Cornejo led a series of epoch-making groups on the MAG label (New Juggler Sound, Laghonia and We All Together) in the history of Peruvian rock. All these bands were directly influenced by the British invasion and used new sounds from Hammond, phase shifters, synthesizers and tapes played backwards, which stimulated rivalry with other groups. Another hallmark of the brothers was the technical quality of their records, thanks to Saul's supervision of all MAG recordings between 1972 and 1974. At the end of 1971, when Laghonia was working on the last tracks of "Etcétera", they met Manuel Antonio Guerrero's (MAG) son, Carlos, who had just got back from the USA, and gladly joined in the choruses of the last songs Laghonia was recording. They met up again soon after to rehearse some of Paul McCartney's songs. As soon as he heard them play, Guerrero Senior urged them to form a group focused on cover versions of foreign hits not yet known in Peru. Initially, the Cornejo brothers weren't enthused by a project so different from Laghonia, but ended up accepting as it gave them the opportunity to spend time in the studio. Carlos' melodic voice was another incentive, although they made it clear that the new group, We All Together (WAT), would stick to the mixing desk: "The group isn't into presentations or shows, we're about recording music and purifying it to the max," stated Saúl at that time. Their first album included four covers of Paul McCartney and Badfinger, several compositions by Carlos Guerrero -appealing Beatles-style melodies- and two songs from Saúl and Manuel's archives. 'Children', by keyboardist Carlos Salom, opens the LP: a nostalgic description of childhood, with the distinctive piano sound (achieved through mixing) that permeates the record. Although WAT sang and composed in English, they had no intention of undermining or alienating national culture. Their aim was much more innocent: they simply wanted to make it in the English-speaking world. 'It's a Sin to Go Away' was composed during Laghonía's lifetime as a band and it features guitars played backwards and a psychedelic-progressive style closely attuned to the era. After being included on several compilations, praise for the song has flowed from Europe and the United States in recent years. The album was released in July 1972 and became one of the best-selling Peruvian rock LPs.