Buscar:the empath

Bella Union announce the release of Piroshka’s stunning second album,
‘Love Drips And Gathers’. The album builds on the acclaim of the band’s
2018 debut LP ‘Brickbat’ and the reputations of former members of Lush,
Moose, Elastica and Modern English.
Piroshka emerged in 2018, four individuals with distinct musical identities but
also overlapping histories - a combination that might have unsettled, or even
overwhelmed, some bands. But in their case, the bond only got stronger.
After ‘Brickbat’ explored social and political divisions by way of what MOJO
described as “Forceful, driving garage songs and dream-pop epics,” ‘Love
Drips And Gathers’ follows a more introspective line - the ties that bind us, as
lovers, parents, children, friends - to a suitably subtler, more ethereal sound,
whilst still revelling in energy and drama.
“If ‘Brickbat’ was our Britpop album, then ‘Love Drips And Gathers’ is
shoegaze!” reckons vocalist/guitarist Miki Berenyi, formerly of Lush, a band
that effortlessly bridged the two genres like no other. “It wasn’t intentional; we
just wanted a different focus. I’ve always seen debut albums as capturing a
band’s first moments, when you really have momentum, and then the second
album is the chance for a more thoughtful approach.”
Bassist Mick Conroy (Modern English) agrees. “‘Brickbat’ was a classic first
album; noisy and raucous. On ‘Love Drips And Gathers’, we’ve calmed down
and explored sounds, and space.”
The way ‘Love Drips And Gathers’ changes shape and dynamic is less a
reprise of Nineties Brit indie than a transformation into a more shivery, Euromantic version with glistening electronic filigrees. The opening ‘Hastings’ sets
the tone. Luminous drops of guitar underpin Miki’s becalmed vocal before
drums, bass and a Mellotron add pace while the decorative coda features
their old pal Terry Edwards on flugelhorn.
‘Love Drips And Gathers’ - named after a line in a Dylan Thomas poem - was
inspired by love, family, belonging, memory. Miki and Moose split the eight
lyrics, with some poignant overlaps here too. Miki’s ‘Loveable’ looks to
Moose; Moose’s ‘The Knife-Thrower’s Daughter’ looks to Miki but also their
daughter Stella and his sister Anna; an empathic, touching embrace of the
women in his life.
Staying within the family, Moose eulogises his late mother (the idyllic
childhood seaside trip of ‘Hastings 1973’) and father (the more conflicted
‘Scratching At The Lid’). On ‘V.O.’, Miki pays fond tribute to Vaughan Oliver,
4AD’s legendary in-house art director who died suddenly in December 2019
and who had a particularly close relationship with Lush during their time on
the label (like ‘Brickbat’, ‘Love Drips And Gathers’’ beautiful and enigmatic
artwork is by Vaughan’s former design partner Chris Bigg).
LP pressed on clear vinyl.

More excellence from the Basin Rock label following albums from Nadia Reid, Julie Byrne, Aoife Nessa Frances, Jim Ghedi, Alex Maas..
With a special knack for balancing bright pop melodies with a drifting sense of melancholy, LA based Johanna Samuels new album Excelsior! is a tender, honest document of the importance of companionship above all else. Named after Dylan’s “Visions of Johanna”, Samuels grew up on the classic songwriters of yesteryear (George Harrison, Tom Petty, Neil Young) and after a healthy dose of Elliott Smith and Jon Brion, has spent the best part of the last decade honing her craft.

her band and producer Sam Evian but it's songs are full of West Coast sunshine. It's Evian's first full album production at his own Flying Cloud Studios. Recorded mostly to tape, the album is as a gorgeous combination of vintage instrumentation, strong melodic hooks, killer harmonies and Samuels’ elegant voice.
Samuels seeks those answers through companionship, exploring the depths of her relationships and then calling upon a handful of womxn to provide the album’s backing vocals - a task she’d always performed herself until now. As such, Excelsior! makes a space for the voices of Courtney Marie Andrews, Hannah Cohen, Lomelda’s Hannah Read, A.O. Gerber, Louise Florence and Olivia Kaplan.
The album takes its name from the signature that Samuels’ grandpa would use before he sadly passed away last December. “He was a very important person to me and he helped raise me,” Johanna explains. “He signed all of his letters and emails ‘Excelsior!’, including the exclamation point. It means ‘ever upward’ and that’s what I wish for everyone: to grow from listening with more empathy and from hearing each other out. I hope this record makes people want to be gentler with each other and themselves.”

In view of the immense Black Lives Matter mobilisation in reaction to the murder of George Floyd and the comparatively meagre societal reaction to the attack in Hanau, the question arises: How come our society does not show the same empathy and solidarity towards its own fellow citizens with Kurdish, Turkish, Bulgarian, Bosnian, Afghan migrant backgrounds or members of the Roma and Sinti?

How limited is our postcolonial discourse if we are unable to address the racist exploitation of those who repair our cars, deliver our parcels or harvest our asparagus?

It’s all a sham. Shake it off like a biometric photograph. Shake off that false consciousness. The Black Diaspora is a transatlantic lie invented by music curators and journalists. Embrace this nuanced return to structures and superstructures, to articulations and historical constellations as analytical tools.

Allow me to dampen your expectations. This is not the sound of decolonisation. This is no compilation of BLM protest songs. This is no celebration of Black emancipatory struggles. You will not be able to play this at your hip post-pandemic house party. This will not go down well with your woke friends. This is music for the square in the room. For that reluctant BAME/Person of Color repelled by your fetishisation of the African-American experience.

This is music for gated communities. This is Fehler Kuti singing of class relations, not of identities and positionalities. This is Fehler Kuti resisting.

Listen to these songs of infrastructure and appraisal of the welfare state. Join me in mourning the broken promises of prosperity for all. Send that “Ausländer“ of your mind to heaven. Colonialism fucked you up. Platform Capitalism is keeping you in chains. Are we to unionise all human and non-human workers at Amazon? Will modernity always have that "forever nigger“? What about those dispossessed field hands harvesting your asparagus?

All is lost. The system is rigged. Because all histories, gestures and identities have been absorbed into this late capitalist apparatus we call diversity. It can integrate anything and anyone. It made me. It is the price of the ticket. And it is unable to challenge its own premise of an atomised society. As if you and I had so little in common.

They will try and help you. They will build a museum for your history and a scholarship program for your future. I warn you. Don‘t let them give you a name. Resist appellation. Don’t get that German passport. Don‘t eat asparagus.

Fehler Kuti, Spring 2021

All songs by Julian Warner. Produced by Markus Acher and Tobias Siegert.

Markus Acher – drums, percussion, backing vocals Micha Acher – sousaphone, trumpet Cico Beck – synthesizer Jenny Bohn – backing vocals Pacifico Boy – vocals Katja Kobolt – spoken word Theresa Loibl – bass clarinet, backing vocals Sascha Schwegeler – steeldrum, kalimba, percussion, backing vocals Tobias Siegert – bass, synthesizers, percussion, backing vocals Julian Warner – piano, memotron, vocals

recorded and mixed by Tobias Siegert at Minga Records, july – december 2020 mastered by Moritz Illner at Duophonic

Cover art and photography by Andreas Neumeister. Layout by Sascha Schwegeler.

Fehler Kuti “Professional People” is part of the same multiverse as “The History of the Federal Republic of Germany as told by Fehler Kuti und die Polizei”. A production by Julian Warner. In cooperation with Münchner Kammerspiele. Funded by the Department of Arts and Culture of the City of Munich. Released by Alien Transistor.

Made during summer 2020, Loraine James’ second Hyperdub album, ‘Reflection’, is a turbulent expression of inner-space, laid out in unflinching honesty, offering gentle empathy and bitter-sweet hope. ‘Reflection’ further develops a unique pop sensibility realised on last year’s ‘Nothing EP’, while tones of Drill and R&B seep through into this collection too. In contrast to the brash splashes of 2019’s ‘For You And I’ LP and the grimey anger of ‘Nothing’, ‘Reflection’ is pared-down and confident, taking the listener through how last year felt as a young black queer woman in a world that has suddenly stopped moving, the arc of the album peppered with Loraine's diaristic confessions. Starting positively with the gentle pop-trap of ‘Built To Last’ ft Xzavier Stone, into the bumpy instrumental of ‘Let's Go’, the album switches tone with ‘Simple Stuff’, followed by regular collaborator Le3 bLACK amplifying Loraine's vulnerability on the downcast drill of ‘Black Ting’, then ‘Insecure Behaviour And Fuckery’ is a techno glide which pairs Nova's confrontational plea for respect, delivered in monotone autotune, against deep Drexciyan chords. With Baths on vocals, the weightlessness of ‘On The Lake Outside’ soothes numb feelings, and Eden Samara explores the shadow world of anxious dreams on the airy R&B of ‘Running Like That’. Closing track ‘We're Building Something New’ with Manchester rapper Iceboy Violet brings the album together, confidently suggesting a new world is in reach. ‘Reflection’ is a brave step forward for a unique and creative 21st century musician.

Where have you gone, Charles Tolliver? There was such promise in the concept of Music Inc., and in Strata East, but evidently the music world's attention was elsewhere and this tremendous live set was probably heard by only a few hundred sets of ears. On the back of the record sleeve, Tolliver undersigned his mission statement: "Music Inc. was created out of the desire to assemble men able to see the necessity for survival of a heritage and an Art in the hopes that the sacrifices and high level of communication between them will eventually reach every soul." And he isn't kidding. You won't find a much higher level of communication than he, Cecil McBee, Stanley Cowell, and Jimmy Hopps engaged in on May 1, 1970 at Slugs' in New York City. This was much more than an attempt to merely 'preserve acoustic jazz' as in the stilted Marsalis vein. This was an attempt to preserve a measure of authenticity while maintaining the notion of forward-thinking, present-tense improvised music. They deserved a greater response than the lukewarm, sparse applause they received that night, and continue to deserve a far more cognizant audience for their efforts.



Tolliver ('Drought"), McBee ("Felicite"), and Cowell ("Orientale") each contribute a track to the set; though very much distinct, each is equally strong. "Drought" is the kind of dark-hued, well-honed burner which Tolliver routinely produced in his fertile years. "Felicite" is a more contemplative affair, a deeply felt and empathically performed piece; the unit here is in particularly sublime form, merging considerable skill with a staggering depth of emotion. "Orientale" falls somewhere in between the pace of the two, with Cowell's Eastern scales establishing an austere, industrious tone throughout its seventeen-and-a-half-minute length.



Through its duration, the music on Live at Slugs' is often riveting and incessantly compelling. Hopps is a lesser-known entity to me, but the other three players featured here are some of the all-time underrated presences in the jazz pantheon, and they play nothing short of masterfully. Always a presence on his recordings, Tolliver demonstrates tremendous range, flair, and command as a trumpeter and leader. Had he not come along at a time when pure jazz was falling out of favour, I have to believe his name (along with Woody Shaw's) would be every bit as prolific as Freddie Hubbard's or Lee Morgan's; the same holds for the always brilliant and expressive McBee on bass.



I feel saddened that Music Inc. fell so far short of "eventually reaching every soul" - yet fortunate that it eventually reached mine.

What future? What futures? When fear substitutes truth / Misinformation obscures reality / And speculation prevails on experience / Brutality seems necessary / And empathy appears naïve.

One. Simple. Direct. Question. Quale Futuro? What Future? Obliterated by a tumultuous year with lingering anxiety, uncertainty and a city ready to break any strand of hope, Qlowski, resorted to what they know best, turning frustration into dreams, stockpiling possibilities, fabricating desire and simply, living. This is Quale Futuro? their debut LP for Maple Death Records



London based twee-punks Qlowski entered the studio in late January 2020, basically before everything. Crammed in a small studio room in Tottenham Hale with producer Lindsay A. Corstorphine (Sauna Youth, Cold Pumas, Middex) they created a striking, full blown manifesto, where their early post-punk nuances are heightened by an extremely poetic and compelling vision that encapsulates words, imagery and noise. Propulsive rhythms, a modern spin on kiwi-pop and a weird combination of dark punk, noise rock and flower pop are still the foundation of their sound but it’s the combination of bandleaders Mickey and Cecilia’s voices that creates an eerie effortless sense of familiarity. It’s no wonder they’ve known each other since they were young kids. ‘A Woman’ shines bright with Cecilia’s intimate and prismatic approach that unites Poly Styrene’s fierce delivery with the ethereal vocal melodramas produced by Joe Meek in the 60s. Mikey’s howl is confrontational and direct, moving from the motto-induced style of Italian new wave art-punks CCCP on ‘Lentil Soup’ to a deep commanding calm steadiness on ‘Lotta Continua’ and frenetic frenzy on ‘To Be True’. The stabilizing presence of Danny and Christian’s rhythm section has freed the band to develop and expand furious kraut-punk assaults like on deep cut ‘The Wanderer’. Les Miserable from London punks Italia 90 lends his snarl on the sci-fi 50s tinged romantic closer ‘In A Cab To Work’.

What future? What futures? When fear substitutes truth / Misinformation obscures reality / And speculation prevails on experience / Brutality seems necessary / And empathy appears naïve.

One. Simple. Direct. Question. Quale Futuro? What Future? Obliterated by a tumultuous year with lingering anxiety, uncertainty and a city ready to break any strand of hope, Qlowski, resorted to what they know best, turning frustration into dreams, stockpiling possibilities, fabricating desire and simply, living. This is Quale Futuro? their debut LP for Maple Death Records



London based twee-punks Qlowski entered the studio in late January 2020, basically before everything. Crammed in a small studio room in Tottenham Hale with producer Lindsay A. Corstorphine (Sauna Youth, Cold Pumas, Middex) they created a striking, full blown manifesto, where their early post-punk nuances are heightened by an extremely poetic and compelling vision that encapsulates words, imagery and noise. Propulsive rhythms, a modern spin on kiwi-pop and a weird combination of dark punk, noise rock and flower pop are still the foundation of their sound but it’s the combination of bandleaders Mickey and Cecilia’s voices that creates an eerie effortless sense of familiarity. It’s no wonder they’ve known each other since they were young kids. ‘A Woman’ shines bright with Cecilia’s intimate and prismatic approach that unites Poly Styrene’s fierce delivery with the ethereal vocal melodramas produced by Joe Meek in the 60s. Mikey’s howl is confrontational and direct, moving from the motto-induced style of Italian new wave art-punks CCCP on ‘Lentil Soup’ to a deep commanding calm steadiness on ‘Lotta Continua’ and frenetic frenzy on ‘To Be True’. The stabilizing presence of Danny and Christian’s rhythm section has freed the band to develop and expand furious kraut-punk assaults like on deep cut ‘The Wanderer’. Les Miserable from London punks Italia 90 lends his snarl on the sci-fi 50s tinged romantic closer ‘In A Cab To Work’.

Tape / Cassette
Canaan Balsam is an electronic composer and musician based in Edinburgh. He uses field recordings, found sounds, hardware and a range of software to create immersive soundscapes. His work explores the dead space between ambient and new age music; the liminal zone between the harshness of industrial and the beatific serenity of devotional music.
Responding to the context where ever-expanding modes of communication seem only to blur the line between connectivity and solitude, Canaan often returns to the theme of loneliness in his work - how it can grow and metasta- size, until it becomes incommunicable, resistant to empathy; an alien host overtaking the body. Cruise Utopia was recorded over the last 3 years and it's his first solo work.
Balsam has collaborated with several contemporary artists including Cosima Cobley Carr and Calvin Z Laing, as well as experimental musician Dan Mutsch, and has performed in an iteration of Damo Suzuki's Sound Carriers. Canaan's sound work has featured at the Radiophrenia Festival at CCA in Glasgow. His audiovisual work has been exhibited at the Embassy Gallery in Edinburgh. He is also part of the Scottish sound art and collective Optic Nerve.

For Jayda G, joy is a state of mind. Whether she transmits it through her upbeat productions or magnetic energy at the decks, the Canadian-born DJ and producer, real name Jayda Guy, is a beacon of empathy on the dancefloor. It's no surprise, then, that Jayda G's DJ-Kicks mix captures the buoyant spirit of the music that has influenced her most. "DJ-Kicks has been a personal goal of mine for a really long time. I've been a fan for decades now. I remember there was one mix by Chromeo and it had some French disco on it that always stood out in my mind," she remembers. Clocking in at just over an hour, Guy's mixtakes you on a journey that moves through loved classics and new bubblers. The mix contains Jayda's Brand new single "All I Need", the follow up to Grammy Nominated breakthrough single "Both Of Us", a slinky house tune co-produced with James Ford that fizzes with shimmering energy. A rallying cry for kinship and understanding, Guy's insouciant vocals insist "all I need is you to hear me", gliding across the perfectly swung house beat. "Because the mix was made during the pandemic, I thought, 'What music makes me happy?' I want people to feel like they know me. I wanted it to be approachable, still honouring the disco and soul music that I love. I hope that translates in some shape or form."

TRANSPARENT ORANGE VINYL

For Jayda G, joy is a state of mind. Whether she transmits it through her upbeat productions or magnetic energy at the decks, the Canadian-born DJ and producer, real name Jayda Guy, is a beacon of empathy on the dancefloor. It's no surprise, then, that Jayda G's DJ-Kicks mix captures the buoyant spirit of the music that has influenced her most. "DJ-Kicks has been a personal goal of mine for a really long time. I've been a fan for decades now. I remember there was one mix by Chromeo and it had some French disco on it that always stood out in my mind," she remembers. Clocking in at just over an hour, Guy's mixtakes you on a journey that moves through loved classics and new bubblers. The mix contains Jayda's Brand new single "All I Need", the follow up to Grammy Nominated breakthrough single "Both Of Us", a slinky house tune co-produced with James Ford that fizzes with shimmering energy. A rallying cry for kinship and understanding, Guy's insouciant vocals insist "all I need is you to hear me", gliding across the perfectly swung house beat. "Because the mix was made during the pandemic, I thought, 'What music makes me happy?' I want people to feel like they know me. I wanted it to be approachable, still honouring the disco and soul music that I love. I hope that translates in some shape or form."

Fiddlehead wasn’t supposed to make a second record. But, if we’re being totally honest, they weren’t supposed to make their first record either. Formed in what singer Pat Flynn describes as “a deeply, deeply, laughably depressing part of my life,” Fiddlehead was born with modest intentions. Flynn and his then-roommate, guitarist Alex Dow, decided to work on some songs, and with Basement having just broken up, guitarist Alex Henery entered the fold. Drummer Shawn Costa and bassist Adam Gonsalves—who has since been replaced by Casey Nealon—linked up with them and, all together, they wrote what would become the Out Of The Bloom EP. Those five songs established what Fiddlehead would be, a band that merged elements of post-hardcore, post-punk, and classic ‘80s emo into something that felt distinctly theirs.

Between The Richness effectively picks up where Springtime & Blind left off, as Flynn dives headfirst into that same subject. But astute listeners will notice a major difference this time: Flynn is singing about himself. “These massive things happened in my life between the first record and this record. It just so happened that I ended up getting married, I had a child, and it was around the 10-year anniversary of my father’s passing. So what if I want to write another record about how I feel about the loss of my father? Will people be like, ‘Pick another topic, dude.’ So, the opening track is called ‘Grief Motif’ because it’s the idea that this is an eternal struggle that will never go away. Take it or leave it, but it will be part of this dude as long as he’s got a pen in the hand.”

Between The Richness explodes with an energy that usurps that of Springtime & Blind. The guitar riffs of Dow and Henery are their most anthemic and combustive yet, making songs like “The Years,” “Get My Mind Right,” and “Down University” not just serve as the backbone for Flynn’s personal ruminations, but empathetic, emotional musical stabs that hit the listener just as hard. Meanwhile, Costa and Nealon give the songs a propulsive heft, allowing a track like “Million Times” to dart into unexpected territories without ever feeling alien

Fiddlehead wasn’t supposed to make a second record. But, if we’re being totally honest, they weren’t supposed to make their first record either. Formed in what singer Pat Flynn describes as “a deeply, deeply, laughably depressing part of my life,” Fiddlehead was born with modest intentions. Flynn and his then-roommate, guitarist Alex Dow, decided to work on some songs, and with Basement having just broken up, guitarist Alex Henery entered the fold. Drummer Shawn Costa and bassist Adam Gonsalves—who has since been replaced by Casey Nealon—linked up with them and, all together, they wrote what would become the Out Of The Bloom EP. Those five songs established what Fiddlehead would be, a band that merged elements of post-hardcore, post-punk, and classic ‘80s emo into something that felt distinctly theirs.

Between The Richness effectively picks up where Springtime & Blind left off, as Flynn dives headfirst into that same subject. But astute listeners will notice a major difference this time: Flynn is singing about himself. “These massive things happened in my life between the first record and this record. It just so happened that I ended up getting married, I had a child, and it was around the 10-year anniversary of my father’s passing. So what if I want to write another record about how I feel about the loss of my father? Will people be like, ‘Pick another topic, dude.’ So, the opening track is called ‘Grief Motif’ because it’s the idea that this is an eternal struggle that will never go away. Take it or leave it, but it will be part of this dude as long as he’s got a pen in the hand.”

Between The Richness explodes with an energy that usurps that of Springtime & Blind. The guitar riffs of Dow and Henery are their most anthemic and combustive yet, making songs like “The Years,” “Get My Mind Right,” and “Down University” not just serve as the backbone for Flynn’s personal ruminations, but empathetic, emotional musical stabs that hit the listener just as hard. Meanwhile, Costa and Nealon give the songs a propulsive heft, allowing a track like “Million Times” to dart into unexpected territories without ever feeling alien

In the midst of a global pandemic John Hiatt
walked into Historic RCA Studio B and opened up
a lifetime full of leftover feelings. A half-century
ago, Hiatt lived in a ratty, $15-a-week room on
Nashville’s 16th Avenue, less than a mile away
from the RCA and Columbia studios that were the
heartbeat of what had come to be known as ‘Music
Row’. In the ensuing 50 years, he went from a
scuffling young buck to a celebrated grand master
of song.
With ‘Leftover Feelings, Hiatt teamed up with multiGrammy winning artist and producer Jerry Douglas
and his band, The Jerry Douglas Band. There’s no
drummer, yet these grooves are deep and true.
And while the up-tempo songs are, as ever, filled
with delightful internal rhyme and sly aggression,
the Jerry Douglas Band’s empathetic musicianship
nudges Hiatt to performances that are startlingly
vulnerable.
In life, leftover feelings can remain unresolved, no
matter how often explored. Explicated in a place of
history, a place of comfort. A sacred place, if you
believe the documentation of human expression to
be a holy thing. Here then, with this album, there is
a meeting of bruised and triumphant American
giants. Here are Hiatt and Douglas, creating the
meant-to-be: Love songs and road songs, sly
songs and hurt songs. Their songs and now our
songs. Leftover feelings that edify and sustain.

Straight Outta Caledonia is the first commercially available “Greatest Hits” of the outsider songwriter Jackie Leven, an artist
who has largely remained in obscurity in his native Scotland despite being one of the greatest wordsmiths – and singers – it ever
produced. A well-travelled musician who began making psychedelic, progressive music in the late 60s before emerging as an
epic storyteller full of pathos, humour and humanity in the 90s, Leven lived and wrote like many of the fragile, gregarious
characters of his songs; large, full of life and empathy. Leven passed away in 2011 after recording 30+ albums under different
guises or with his briefly successful New Wave band Doll by Doll. Straight Outta Caledonia is a compilation collated by Night
School Records on its Archival label School Daze that seeks to introduce Leven’s music to new generations.
In an age of isolation, alienation and loss of visceral experience, Jackie Leven’s music can be massive and welcoming. It feels
connected to some universal humanity and vibrates with vitality. His songs are often full of tragedy and comedy simultaneously,
cutting straight to the heart, often plugging directly into the nervous system of the listener. His lyrics are rich, dense with imagery
that can veer from apocalyptic to the comically banal in a sentence, with a songwriting panache that can be heavy handed to
almost bursting point before skewering the song with a clownish, warm punchline. His productions ranged from Bob Dylan’s
Rolling Thunder Revue style rock band orchestrations with strings and organ as on the epic Ancient Misty Morning or they could
be pared down to the purest form of folk song as on Poortoun: Leven on stage alone with an acoustic guitar, albeit played with a
mastery of the instrument that he often only hinted at. Musically his sound can bend traditional structures or stay completely
confined within them yet still forever push towards an ecstatic release, as on the cinematic Snow In Central Park.
The most exciting, jaw-droppingly effective tool at Leven’s disposal was his voice. A multi-octave instrument that, though
damaged during a savage assault in Fife, he used with flair; he had both a brazen disregard for the rules and a deep humility, all
of which is evidenced with every phrasing. A baritone that could flit up through the register – always touched by his gentle
Kirkcaldy accent – it’s the prime delivery method for his songs. Leven’s voice enabled him to inhabit the characters in his songs to
an uncanny degree, a skill that in turn enables the listener to empathise with them and, subsequently, the singer. It’s most evident
in stand out song The Sexual Loneliness Of Jesus Christ, a breathtaking re-telling of the life of its protagonist, not as a pure,
sinless messiah but as a sexually frustrated, solitary man condemned to an existential loneliness no one else will ever feel. In
many ways the track is the archetypal Jackie Leven song. Produced by Pere Ubu’s David Thomas, what strikes the ear first –
after the samples of unemployed workers in Glasgow following the closing of the Clyde shipyards – is the audacious, rhythmic
tremolo effect Leven employs through the verses before the production opens up to allow Leven’s vocal to lift into a soar, a
freeing glide powered both by the force of the singer’s chutzpah and the inherent, doomed destiny of the protagonist. With any
other singer such subject matter could come across as gauche or worse, pretentiously sonorous, but Jackie Leven’s genius was
such that he could be this cinematic and brazen while touching something elemental and true in the beholder. It’s a skill evident in
every song on Straight Outta Caledonia, the trademark of a songwriter who revelled and excelled in intensity with a lightness of
touch.
In his lifetime, Jackie Leven toured, wrote and recorded at a ferocious rate. He recorded under aliases to avoid record contract
restrictions, played house shows in Europe after or instead of official concerts, events which were often spoken word story telling
masterclasses as well as performances of his often bewilderingly dense songbook. His music has traditionally been catalogued
as “folk” music and has been largely banished to a small, dedicated group of international fans and apostles both private and well
known, like author Ian Rankin or Glenn Matlock. Since his passing in 2011 however, there has been a growing recognition
amongst a newer generation, with artists like James Yorkston or Molly Nilsson publicly stating the influence of the unsung
troubadour on their own craft. Jackie Leven’s fairytales for hard men are often forensic deconstructions of masculinity, sad and
ecstatic, light and shadow, always endlessly rich, a resource as bountiful as Leven himself’s human spirit undoubtedly was.

Ryley Walker currently resides in New York City. But his latest LP is a Chicago record in spirit. The masterful Course In Fable, the songwriter’s fi@h solo effort,
draws from the deep well of that city’s ferCle 1990s scene, when bands like Tortoise, The Sea and Cake and Gastr del Sol were reshaping the underground,
mixing and matching indie rock, jazz, prog and beyond.
Walker spent his formaCve years in Chicago, absorbing those heady sounds and finding ways to make them his own. Even though he emerged at first in folkrock
troubadour mode, it makes sense that he’s arrived at this point; each LP has grown more intricate and assured, his influences disClling into something
original and unusual. To put it simply: Course In Fable is Walker’s best record yet, full of acCve imaginaCon and endless possibiliCes.
Last October, Ryley went straight to one of the primary architects of the Chicago sound to make the LP. John McEn:re, Course In Fable’s producer/engineer/
mixer, can rightly be called a legend for his work with Tortoise, Stereolab, The Red Krayola, Jim O’Rourke and countless others over a prolific career that now
spans more than three decades. Seeing his name in an album’s liners is preVy much a trademark of quality.
Another Windy City exile, McEnCre is based on the west coast these days, working out of the Portland, OR studio he’s dubbed Soma West. On the seven songs
here, he delivers the signature shimmering and prisCne sonics he’s become known for over the years. But McEnCre was also inCmately involved with Course
In Fable’s overall creaCve process. “I told him to take the mixes and have at it,” Walker says.
The result is a rich, immersive affair — a headphones record if ever there was one. Course In Fable’s songs are twisty, labyrinthine things, stuffed full of ideas
(Walker half-jokingly calls it his “prog record”). But no maVer how complex it gets, the album is never overwhelmingly busy. Wiry guitars melt into gorgeous
string secCons (arranged by Douglas Jenkins of the Portland Cello Project). Tricky Cme signatures abound but feel as natural as can be. Melodies o@en dri@ in
unexpected direcCons but remain downright hummable. Like Walker’s beloved Genesis, the pop element is never too far from the surface even when shit
gets weird. (And speaking of weird, Ryley says that in addiCon to Genesis, much of the album’s inspiraCon comes from “Australian extreme scooter riders on
YouTube and balding gear heads on Craigslist.” Go figure.)
To help put together these various puzzle pieces, Ryley assembled a band made up of several longCme collaborators. Bill MacKay (another Chicago mainstay)
and Walker have made two excellent instrumental duo records of interlocking guitars and warm give-and-take — a rapport very much in evidence
throughout Course In Fable. The freakishly talented drummer Ryan Jewell has performed with Walker for years now in a variety of seangs, from
straighborward song-centric sets to blown-out improv extravaganzas. Bassist Andrew ScoJ Young (Tiger Hatchery, Health&Beauty) has logged many miles on
tour with Walker; he and Jewell are frequently astonishing, a buoyant-but-always-locked-in rhythm secCon, able to navigate someCmes dizzying turnarounds
with apparent ease. Listening to the interplay between Walker and these musicians and you might be fooled into thinking they’d spent a year roadtesCng
Course In Fable’s songs. But it all came together relaCvely fast, thanks to demos, rehearsals and the kind of musical empathy that comes from years of
playing together.
Beneath the wondrous interplay, you’ll find some of Walker’s most personal – if sCll typically crypCc — lyrics, hinCng at some of the trials the songwriter has
been dealing with in recent years. Balanced with necessary doses of dark humor and oddball poetry, Course In Fable feels most of all like a life-affirming
record, fresh air in the lungs, sun on your skin. “Fuck me, I’m alive,” Ryley sings at one point, a moment of both disbelief and pure joy.
Walker has released his albums on a who’s-who of independent labels over the past decade — Tompkins Square, Dead Oceans, Thrill Jockey and Drag City
among them. This Cme around, he’s doing it DIY-style, puang Course In Fable out on his own Husky Pants imprint. You’re in good hands. This is an album that
sounds great (mastered by Greg Calbi), looks great (artwork by Jenny Nelson and design by Michael Vallera). It probably even smells great. Whether you’ve
been onboard since the beginning or are new to the Ryley Walker universe, you’re in for a treat.

At first glance, Sarah Louise might seem an unlikely candidate
to credit technology as inspiration for her new album, Earth Bow.
After all, she has lived in rural Appalachia for the last decade,
foraging numerous species of wild mushroom, concocting
medicine from plants she gathers, and performing what she
terms “Earth Practices” to deepen her relationship with the
natural world. But it is precisely her ability to find connections
between false binaries that makes this album so novel and richly
immersive.
Louise conceived Earth Bow as an interconnected ecosystem,
meant to evolve, interact and grow. Known for her inventive
guitar playing, vocal harmonies and electronic experiments,
it was her use of the SP-404SX sampler that became a primary
inspiration for the album’s woven nature. “Improvising with the
404 during live shows allows me to collaborate with the music
as a living system, almost the way generative music works,” she
says. “I kept finding more and more samples that worked together
and realized I wanted to connect the entire record—and
that there were many ways it could be connected.”
Through this process, what began as eight core songs
blossomed into two sweeping suites. Samples—denizens of
her electronic forest—move around the record with changing
context like words in a sestina or phrases in the I Ching,
revealing new connections with each listen. Mesmeric sounds
abound on Earth Bow, from analog synth tones, to digitally
manipulated sonics that she stretches and layers with a painterly
touch. These electronic sounds inhabit the same environment as
field recordings, ceremonial percussion, guitars and empathic
vocals, weaving together her vast and borderless influences into
an enveloping world. “I want this record to take people on a
journey through the wonders of our incredible planet, to help
people feel held by the mysteries of nature,” she enthuses. “I
believe music can heal.” After a string of celebrated releases on
Thrill Jockey, Sarah Louise is self-releasing Earth Bow on her
new imprint of the same name.

· First release of the Jagjaguwar 25th anniversary celebration happening in 2021. · Features production and composition accompaniment from Bon Iver, Mary Lattimore, Angel Bat Dawid, Gia Margaret, and Sam Gendel. · Limited edition Opaque Green vinyl. Over the last 12 years, Ross Gay's poems have given us indelible images and phrases of radical empathy and unabated gratitude; about community, collaboration, connectedness and hard work. They have crept into our hearts and made a home of all of us. And so we are launching our 25th Anniversary celebration with `Dilate Your Heart', our first spoken word album since titan Robert Creeley's self-titled release twenty years ago. "Catalog of Unabashed Gratitude" is given a gorgeous, slowly creeping bed of vines by Bon Iver, as Gay's unadorned voices speaks a lifetimes of Thank You's. On "Burial," harpist and composer Mary Lattimore's lunar landscape follows Gay's voice into space, telling of our endless energy exchange with nature. Chicago's Angel Bat Dawid dances with the frenetic, joyous scene Gay leads us through on "To the Fig Tree on 9th and Christian," in which a group of Philadelphia strangers scramble together to harvest the fruit of the titular urban fig tree. Songwriter Gia Margaret provides a mystical, amniotic environment for Gay's "Poem To My Child If Ever You Shall Be," a love letter to an imagined future child, treating Gay's voice like a message in a bottle to a far off idea made only of love and potential. Sam Gendel, a secret weapon collaborator, affects Gay's voice on "Sorrow Is Not My Name" to something glassy and almost singsongy. Throughout, Gay recites his poems with bright aliveness, his voice as warm and easy when he speaks about death as when he speaks about mercy, or love.

Since his 2012 debut as Heathered Pearls, Jakub Alexander has constructed art — music, objects, installations, performances — as a way of re-imagining fragments of his past and mapping ideas for his future. The Polish-born, Michigan-raised, New York-based artist and producer sees imagery and narrative framework as fluid components to his craft. Alexander’s first album, Loyal, mimicked the hypnotic motions of ocean waves at night, offering melodic, loop-based ambient music as a tribute to the tasteful influence of his mother and aunt. The second Heathered Pearls album, Body Complex, found inspiration from comfort, imperfection, and visions of interior architecture, transforming Loyal’s soft textures into driving 4/4 figures, glacial tone drifts, and starry synth plateaus. His 2017 EP, Detroit, MI 1997 - 2001, reflected on a formative era through ephem- eral dance music. The third Heathered Pearls full-length,


Cast, returns to moodier loop formats joined by the distinctly new presence of the spo- ken word. The move mirrors the multitudes of its namesake: collaborators comprise a cast, healing in the bind of a cast, complex emotions and the shadows they cast. Alexander started work on Cast when living in Berlin and in Queens.

“I hit a wall listening to these tracks when they were instrumental.” This is where he diverged from previous modes, deciding to integrate speech. With a healthy distaste for aspects of performance art, he invited strictly non-scripted recordings, a series of anti-performances. This new format adds a surprising human element to music that has previously operated as sea-shapes or infrastructure. These flashes of language, Alexander’s close friends speaking about things, narratively and cerebrally, casually and profoundly, turn the distinctive Heathered Pearls sound into some- thing surprisingly gritty, tangible, and in certain sweeps, cinematic. It is as if the world outside of these compositions bleeds into the music, casting their verbal being from just off the surface, like the album’s cover artwork where the light hits the plexi object but misses the wall.

Alexander sees his covers as naturally unfinished workstations; the gauzed and patinaed copper on Cast continues in this philosophy. This is all to say Cast deals with absence as much a presence. Among the guest storytellers is Alexander’s friend and tourmate Nick Murphy (formerly Chet Faker), who unwinds a series of tender observations on “Basic Needs.” The swirling synthesizer immerses a series of empathies; feeling like an egg yolk, a window’s view, his love for the color yellow, and wanting yellow to love him back.

In its review of pianist Shai Maestro’s ECM leader debut ‘The Dream Thief’, All
About Jazz spoke of “a searching lyrical atmosphere, emotional
eloquence and communal virtuosity that serves the music.”
All of which also applies to ‘Human’, where Maestro’s outgoing, highly-communicative
band with fellow Israeli Ofri Nemya on drums and Peruvian bassist Jorge Roeder becomes a quartet with the inspired addition of US trumpeter Philip Dizack.
Shai’s expansive pianism is well-matched by Dizack’s alert, quick-thinking approach to
improvising. And, as ever, Maestro is taking the music forward while also respecting its
sense of tradition. Near the end of a programme comprised almost entirely of Maestro
originals, exploring a range of temperaments, the quartet offers its own take on Duke
Ellington’s “In A Sentimental Mood”, while Shai’s tune “Hank and Charlie” pays tribute to
the musical empathy shared by the late Hank Jones and Charlie Haden.
‘Human’ was recorded at Studios la Buissonne in the South of France in February 2020,
and produced by Manfred Eicher.
Shai Maestro: piano,
Philip Dizack: trumpet,
Jorge Roeder: double bass,
Ofri Nehemya: drums

Devin Townsend brings to you the Devolution Series: a grouping of oddities and interesting material that he would like people to hear, but that aren’t necessarily a ‘major release’. The series will include all the quarantine songs and concerts, as well as various live shows from the past few years. The first release, “Devolution Series #1 - Acoustically Inclined, Live in Leeds”, is a remixed and remastered version of the ‘Live in Leeds’ show that was originally included on the Empath Ultimate Edition as video asset. A cool acoustic show that deserves to be heard, now availble as audio version.