quête:the express

Popol Ace is a progressive rock band from Norway which had its heyday in the 1970s. The band formed in 1972 as Popol Vuh, but changed their name in 1975 to avoid the confusion with the German group of the same name, which practiced more experimental and cosmic music. Stolen From Time is an ambitious and varied album, which testifies to the richness of progressive rock of the time. The group mixes various influences, such as Pink Floyd, Genesis, Yes, or Supertramp. The nine tracks on the album are all musical nuggets, ranging from symphonic rock to folk via jazz- rock or hard- rock. The group demonstrates great instrumental and vocal mastery, with neat arrangements and catchy melodies. Singer Jahn Teigen stands out for his powerful and expressive voice, able to move from low register to high register with ease

In one sense, it’s easy for artists—songwriters, specifically—to express their feelings in their work. After all, that’s what the lyrics are for! But it’s much harder to convey emotional energy in how you play, slash at the guitar, and the structure of the music itself. That’s precisely why Girl and Girl’s Sub Pop debut, Call A Doctor, feels like such a vital, electrifying shock to the senses. Not since the early work of Car Seat Headrest or Conor Oberst’s widescreen emotional brutality as Bright Eyes has indie rock managed to come across as this intimate and grandiose, as the Australian quartet led by Kai James lay a lifetime’s worth of woes—mental health, the human race’s planned obsolescence if you’ve been living on this cursed rock you know what we’re getting at—across a canvas of indie rock that feels both timeless and in-the-moment.

An audacious and aggressively tuneful blast of a record, Call A Doctor is an unforgettable first bow from Girl and Girl, whose origins lie in James and guitarist Jayden Williams jamming in his mother’s garage in the afternoon after school. One afternoon, James’ Aunty Liss headed down to their practice space after walking her dog and asked if she could sit in on drums. “It sounded really great,” James recalls. “We begged her to stay, and she said, ‘I’ll stay until you find another drummer.’ We wore her down, and she eventually became a permanent member.”

After bassist Fraser Bell joined to round things out, Girl and Girl hit the road and began to make a name for themselves beyond the Australian bush, eventually signing to Sub Pop off the strength of word of mouth. Call A Doctor came together quickly soon after, largely recorded in marathon sessions in a two-story industrial complex over the course of two weeks. “That added to the intensity of the album,” James says about the frenzied creative process overseen by producer Burke Reid. “I can hear the stress in the record, which is good because that’s what it’s about—being tense, tied up, and in your own head.”

Call A Doctor’s eleven songs—spanning sweeping guitar epics and wry acoustic shuffles to spiky punk maneuvers and the type of raw, adoringly unvarnished indie-pop associated with legendary PacNW label K Records—are literally plucked from James’ personal history, as he reworked older recordings with newer lyrics reflecting his past struggles as well as new anxieties that emerged prior to the album’s recording. “I’ve struggled with mental health for a lot of my life,” he explains, “and I went through a particularly difficult patch when we were making the album; the band had started to get some attention, and I felt an enormous amount of pressure to live up to it.”

Far from the sound of collapsing under pressure, Call A Doctor finds James and Co. stepping up with their entire collective chest. This is a record that’s so out-and-out alive that you nearly feel like you’re in the same room with Girl and Girl as you listen to it; lead single “Hello” practically bursts through the speakers, amplified by Aunty Liss’ unbelievable stickhandling duties. “‘Hello’ is all about romanticizing your own misery. Letting those deep, dark, dirty thoughts take over. Understanding that even if you could pull yourself out, you wouldn’t because the constant stress and worry is far too familiar and comfortable.”

“Mother” pogos on a spiky groove that’s reminiscent of the geographically close New Zealanders who make up the legendary Flying Nun label, while “Oh Boy” draws from the Shins’ own jangly sound, injected with James’ wonderfully nervy vocals. Then there’s Call A Doctor’s sorta-centerpiece “Maple Jean and the Anthropocene,” a five-minute epic offering a new perspective on climate change and the notion of what it means, in a personal sense, to suffer: “I live in the bushland, and I was driving home one night and hit and killed a wallaby with my car,” James recalls while discussing the song’s lyrical inspiration. “My first thought was, ‘What is the universe trying to tell me?’ No remorse, no guilt, just total self-centeredness. Which was like, Woah, you fucking psychopath! This wallaby wasn’t put on this earth to send you a message. That’s what the song is about, our egocentric species - thinking you’re the main character and that everything that happens is somehow about you.”

“This record is about an individual who’s too far in their head, trying to get out,” James continues while discussing Call A Doctor’s overall outlook—specifically the snapshot it offers of its creator. But even though this record deals with uneasy topics we all know well from within ourselves, it’s important to emphasize how teeming with life Girl and Girl’s music is. There’s a brazen, bold sense of humor to this stuff, an undeniable brightness to the darkness that makes it impossible not to be drawn in as a listener. Feeling down never sounded so goddamn good.

Bill MacKay and Drag City are delirious with pride to announce the discovery of a new territory: Locust Land, a record which seeks to reflect the nerve-shredding consciousness run amok in our world today - and somehow allay it with sound. Bill"s music is a visceral crackling where it meets the air, and Locust Land can"t help but reflect its era more than any other in his discography. It"s been five years since the release of Fountain Fire - but in the interim, Bill has barely stopped moving, collaborating with artists across the spectrum, including cellist Katinka Kleijn, banjo player Nathan Bowles and keyboardist Cooper Crain. He"s also contributed to recordings by Steve Gunn, Ryley Walker, Bill Callahan & Bonnie Prince Billy (Blind Date Party), and Black Duck (on their self-titled record featuring Douglas McCombs and Charles Rumback). Forget five years - how"d he even get Locust Land squeezed out of his temporal lobes? Bill"s sense of music as art is constantly modulating - lifting off from where it is found and naturally migrating to some other place. Sometimes, that"s elsewhere - others, it"s simply to be found deeper inside the starting point. And so, the action of moving on informs the landscape of Locust Land. This manifests in several different ways. A restless energy and urgency is repeatedly felt - in the driving momentum of "Keeping in Time," "Glow Drift," and "When I Was Here" - while a dogged persistence radiates from the tone colors and percussion of "Oh, Pearl." Mating a dirge-like desolation with sparkling guitars, "Radiator" adds darkness and depth. The sense of searching, displacement and longing in vocal tracks "Keeping in Time," "Half of You," and "When I Was Here" speak literally to the tumult of current vibrations. Within the arrangements, there"s also departure from previous norms - in addition to the brilliant guitar work for which he is known, Bill plays a variety of keyboards, from piano to organ to synth, extending his music with the available voicings, while enriching the sound field without abandoning his signature brevity. For fans of his singing, and following in the recent tradition of Fountain Fire as well as his collaboration with Nathan Bowles, Keys, Locust Land expresses with an increased vocal presence - and heightened engagement, with Bill"s words and melodies drawing us closer. Also different: on his previous solo recordings, Bill played every sound. Here, he has invited other illustrious Chicagoans to join him: Sam Wagster (The Father Costume, Mute Duo) plays bass on three songs, two of which feature the percussion playing of Mikel Patrick Avery (Natural Information Society, Jeff Parker, etc.). Additionally, Janet Beveridge Bean (Eleventh Dream Day, Freakwater) adds otherworldly vocal textures to the elegiac "Neil"s Field." Whether played alone or with companions, this music projects the strength of a universal collective. Even with a piece that might earlier have passed for blissful pastorale, Bill displays some declamatory motives. The reverie which opens the album, "Phantasmic Fairy," embodies both transcendent and desperate moods, with Bill"s ineffable slide guitar playing afloat, with organs and synths, in a dream state suffused with a sense of foreboding - a requiem, perhaps for the days of unencumbered bandwidth? On the other side of the album, the strength to continue to hope appears in the lifting melodicism/exoticism of the album-closing title track, leaving the listener with the sense of having achieved a hard-won space - a place of personal contemplation and dissent, one that everyone on the planet deserves to visit every single day on earth. With cover art also by Bill MacKay (the third of his albums on Drag City to feature his work), Locust Land stands as a thoroughly personal statement from Bill to everyone everywhere.

Bill MacKay and Drag City are delirious with pride to announce the discovery of a new territory: Locust Land, a record which seeks to reflect the nerve-shredding consciousness run amok in our world today - and somehow allay it with sound. Bill"s music is a visceral crackling where it meets the air, and Locust Land can"t help but reflect its era more than any other in his discography. It"s been five years since the release of Fountain Fire - but in the interim, Bill has barely stopped moving, collaborating with artists across the spectrum, including cellist Katinka Kleijn, banjo player Nathan Bowles and keyboardist Cooper Crain. He"s also contributed to recordings by Steve Gunn, Ryley Walker, Bill Callahan & Bonnie Prince Billy (Blind Date Party), and Black Duck (on their self-titled record featuring Douglas McCombs and Charles Rumback). Forget five years - how"d he even get Locust Land squeezed out of his temporal lobes? Bill"s sense of music as art is constantly modulating - lifting off from where it is found and naturally migrating to some other place. Sometimes, that"s elsewhere - others, it"s simply to be found deeper inside the starting point. And so, the action of moving on informs the landscape of Locust Land. This manifests in several different ways. A restless energy and urgency is repeatedly felt - in the driving momentum of "Keeping in Time," "Glow Drift," and "When I Was Here" - while a dogged persistence radiates from the tone colors and percussion of "Oh, Pearl." Mating a dirge-like desolation with sparkling guitars, "Radiator" adds darkness and depth. The sense of searching, displacement and longing in vocal tracks "Keeping in Time," "Half of You," and "When I Was Here" speak literally to the tumult of current vibrations. Within the arrangements, there"s also departure from previous norms - in addition to the brilliant guitar work for which he is known, Bill plays a variety of keyboards, from piano to organ to synth, extending his music with the available voicings, while enriching the sound field without abandoning his signature brevity. For fans of his singing, and following in the recent tradition of Fountain Fire as well as his collaboration with Nathan Bowles, Keys, Locust Land expresses with an increased vocal presence - and heightened engagement, with Bill"s words and melodies drawing us closer. Also different: on his previous solo recordings, Bill played every sound. Here, he has invited other illustrious Chicagoans to join him: Sam Wagster (The Father Costume, Mute Duo) plays bass on three songs, two of which feature the percussion playing of Mikel Patrick Avery (Natural Information Society, Jeff Parker, etc.). Additionally, Janet Beveridge Bean (Eleventh Dream Day, Freakwater) adds otherworldly vocal textures to the elegiac "Neil"s Field." Whether played alone or with companions, this music projects the strength of a universal collective. Even with a piece that might earlier have passed for blissful pastorale, Bill displays some declamatory motives. The reverie which opens the album, "Phantasmic Fairy," embodies both transcendent and desperate moods, with Bill"s ineffable slide guitar playing afloat, with organs and synths, in a dream state suffused with a sense of foreboding - a requiem, perhaps for the days of unencumbered bandwidth? On the other side of the album, the strength to continue to hope appears in the lifting melodicism/exoticism of the album-closing title track, leaving the listener with the sense of having achieved a hard-won space - a place of personal contemplation and dissent, one that everyone on the planet deserves to visit every single day on earth. With cover art also by Bill MacKay (the third of his albums on Drag City to feature his work), Locust Land stands as a thoroughly personal statement from Bill to everyone everywhere.

"I was in a dream, but now I can see that change is the only law." With a credo adapted from science fiction author Octavia E. Butler, an album title from a collection of metaphysical poetry, and an expansion in consciousness brought on by personal crisis, guitarist and songwriter Shana Cleveland learns to embrace a changing world with unconditional love on News of the Universe, the new full-length from California rock band La Luz. News of the Universe is a record born of calamity, a work of dark, beautiful psychedelia reflecting Cleveland's experience of having her world blown apart by a breast cancer diagnosis just two years after the birth of her son. It's also a portrait of a band in flux, marking the first appearance for drummer Audrey Johnson and the final ones from longtime members bassist Lena Simon and keyboardist Alice Sandahl, whose contributions add a bittersweet edge to a record that is both elegy for an old world and cosmic road map to a strange new one. But is there any band in the world more suited to capturing the chaos of change in all its messy beauty than La Luz? Formed by Cleveland in 2012, La Luz is beloved for their ability to balance bedlam and bliss, each new record another fine-tuning of the band's mix of swaggering riffs with angelic vocals borrowed from doo-wop and folk; a band so reliably great that it makes the huge step forward in confidence and sheer musicality that is News of the Universe all the more formidable. Cleveland, also a writer and painter, has developed into a truly original songwriter with her own canon of haunted psychedelia. Yet if Cleveland has spent years writing songs about ghosts, what lurks in the shadows of News of the Universe is nothing less than death itself. "There are moments on this album that sound to me like the last frantic confession before an asteroid destroys the earth," says Cleveland. The powerful sense of openness that permeates News of the Universe is at least partially due to the fact that it is a record made entirely by women-from the performing, writing, and producing all the way through to the recording, engineering, and mastering. Working with producer Maryam Qudos (Spacemoth), the all-female environment allowed Cleveland to feel safe tapping into difficult places and expressing hard emotions women are socialized to suppress. Unashamedly vulnerable, unabashedly feminine, and undeniably triumphant, News of the Universe is another knockout record from a band so reliably great that it has perhaps led people to overlook how pioneering La Luz really are: women of color in indie music forging their own path by following their own artistic star into galaxies beyond current musical trends, always led by an earnest belief in the cosmic power of love and a great riff. Never is that more true than on News of the Universe, which might be La Luz's most brutal record to date but also their most blissful.

In one sense, it's easy for artists-songwriters, specifically-to express their feelings in their work. After all, that's what the lyrics are for! But it's much harder to convey emotional energy in how you play, slash at the guitar, and the structure of the music itself. That's precisely why Girl and Girl's Sub Pop debut, Call A Doctor, feels like such a vital, electrifying shock to the senses. Not since the early work of Car Seat Headrest or Conor Oberst's widescreen emotional brutality as Bright Eyes has indie rock managed to come across as this intimate and grandiose, as the Australian quartet led by Kai James lay a lifetime's worth of woes-mental health, the human race's planned obsolescence if you've been living on this cursed rock you know what we're getting at-across a canvas of indie rock that feels both timeless and in-the-moment. An audacious and aggressively tuneful blast of a record, Call A Doctor is an unforgettable first bow from Girl and Girl, whose origins lie in James and guitarist Jayden Williams jamming in his mother's garage in the afternoon after school. One afternoon, James' Aunty Liss headed down to their practice space after walking her dog and asked if she could sit in on drums. "It sounded really great," James recalls. "We begged her to stay, and she said, 'I'll stay until you find another drummer.' We wore her down, and she eventually became a permanent member." After bassist Fraser Bell joined to round things out, Girl and Girl hit the road and began to make a name for themselves beyond the Australian bush, eventually signing to Sub Pop off the strength of word of mouth. Call A Doctor came together quickly soon after, largely recorded in marathon sessions in a two-story industrial complex over the course of two weeks. "That added to the intensity of the album," James says about the frenzied creative process overseen by producer Burke Reid. "I can hear the stress in the record, which is good because that's what it's about-being tense, tied up, and in your own head." Call A Doctor's eleven songs-spanning sweeping guitar epics and wry acoustic shuffles to spiky punk maneuvers and the type of raw, adoringly unvarnished indie-pop associated with legendary PacNW label K Records-are literally plucked from James' personal history, as he reworked older recordings with newer lyrics reflecting his past struggles as well as new anxieties that emerged prior to the album's recording. "I've struggled with mental health for a lot of my life," he explains, "and I went through a particularly difficult patch when we were making the album; the band had started to get some attention, and I felt an enormous amount of pressure to live up to it." "This record is about an individual who's too far in their head, trying to get out," James continues while discussing Call A Doctor's overall outlook-specifically the snapshot it offers of its creator. But even though this record deals with uneasy topics we all know well from within ourselves, it's important to emphasize how teeming with life Girl and Girl's music is. There's a brazen, bold sense of humor to this stuff, an undeniable brightness to the darkness that makes it impossible not to be drawn in as a listener. Feeling down never sounded so goddamn good.

2024 Repress

“A place between the two of us, the people who are listening, the people who contributed, and the people who inspired us...”

Finally, almost three years after the well-received Orange Wine EP, and three international tours, Okvsho is back with their fourth project “A place between us”. Georg and Christoph Kiss, the two brothers behind Okvsho, are showcasing a project that is more intimate and bolder than ever, offering an insight into their thoughts, feelings, and experiences during the last two years. The unique style Okvsho has become known for in recent years has once again evolved, combining organic and electronic elements with beautiful harmonies and expressive rhythms.

Okvsho's second LP will also be the first full-length project to be released on the newly founded Zurich-based label Current Moves, with which the Okvsho-brothers aim to shape the young European jazz scene they are inspired by and also an established part of.

“A place between us is the first step into a new era for us – We’re very grateful for the

love and support we received during the past six years and we’ll continue to strive for

the better. Thanks for becoming part of our journey.”

"Negore" is the second album by the Kenya-based duo Odd Odokko. After their debut "Auma" saw percussionist Sven Kacirek work with pre-existing recordings of singer and instrument builder Olith Ratego, the two opted for a similar approach for the ten pieces to preserve the expressiveness of the latter"s performance. Further contributions by sound artist KMRU and Angel Bat Dawid on bass clarinet expand the duo"s sonic palette which draws on the dodo music of the Luo people and enriches it with percussive, melodic, and occasionally electronic means. The record"s title translates to "petroleum lamp," signifying the transition from day to night-when the time has come to dance. In this decidedly joyful spirit, "Negore" is dedicated to transitions and venturing into the future. Ratego"s interpretation of the folk tradition is expressly contemporary, while Kacirek uses a rich variety of avant-garde and advanced electronic music techniques to propel it even further.

For Twice Infinity’s second solo release, the London and Geneva-based DJ and producer GFX – one of the most active newcomers of the past years – makes his vinyl debut with the aptly named Vibing The Groove EP. His three original tracks span a wide array of playful, groovy, punching and driving techno that perfectly showcase GFX’s musical vision for the near future and mark a preliminary goal in his search for a unique musical expression since his release debut in 2020.

The B-side accompanies two remixes by equally exciting members of the next generation of producers; while the approach by Cuban techno activist Hioll is more to the point and made straight up for peak time sets, Manchester-based trance wunderkind Faster Horses explores his not so well know passion for funky and stepping contemporary techno.

An anthology of the intensely arresting work of Robert Fesler (1936-2023), revealing many of his compositions (1975-1987) created with his self-built synthesizers, with as pinnacle the μP RPF78. All music composed and recorded by Robert Fesler at his home on rue Cour Boisacq in Bierges, Belgium. Except one, all tracks are previously unreleased.

With profound simplicity and devotion, Fesler paints a hermetic inner world with strong emotions of confronting solitude, sensual alienation and traumatic angst. His music was as much a therapeutic treatment as an artistic expression. Fesler quotes, »Building my synthesizers and working with them enabled me to sublimate my anxieties.« Most tracks were played and recorded real time, often with two synthesizers (the Synthese 756 and the μP RPF78), capturing the heat of the moment in one take, without multitracking. The austere and reductionist approach reinforces the overall spirit of his work, resulting in an engaging, mysterious solitary journey. It’s quite incredible how one person can put so much technical cerebral content in the development of a machine and use it in such an emotional way.

The music of Robert Fesler might be considered as very Belgian. To situate it within a close entourage, one can say it has: The endurance of Baudouin Oosterlynck The purity of Dominique Lawalree The mysticism of Arsène Souffriau

Through his project Lionlimb, New York based singer/songwriter/producer Stewart Bronaugh crafts unfurling soundscapes that feel mysterious and otherworldly, yet timeless and nostalgic at the same time. He presents his most ambitious vision of these inner vistas on his new album, Limbo, arriving May 24th on Bayonet Records. Inspired by a palette of '70s Italian film soundtracks, '60s girl group music, and funk and soul ballads, Bronaugh brings these influences together to invent an immersive sound all his own-with help from close collaborator Joshua Jaeger, whose live drums bring a rawness to Limbo's meticulously layered production. Led by the smoldering single "Dream of You," featuring Angel Olsen, Limbo taps into universal themes of romance, longing, and loss, while still offering a hazy escape from our present reality. Bronaugh penned the songs with "classic" songwriting in mind, transforming his personal struggles with grief and addiction into love songs. Using images inspired by nature (like the sun, moonlight, hurricanes, and deep water), he expresses being overtaken by a force greater than himself, as the psychedelic production evokes a sense of being plunged into this vast landscape. Limbo benefits from its eclectic influences, as Bronaugh overlays sitar-sounding guitar on top of funky basslines, melodramatic string arrangements, and fuzzed out guitar, making for music that could easily belong on Twin Peaks just as much as a Western cowboy film. An album of duets, Limbo features a host of female vocalists-Angel Olsen, Ewa Synowiec, to Bion augil, nderstad ocal periora ne Bill bout vocal sad ate another instrument* he explains. "When we first tried to have someone else sing, I liked it, because I felt more akin to a producer than a songwriter." There's a dreamy quality to how these singers trade off with Bronaugh, both parties expressing his inner emotions. Limbo is a culmination of Bronaugh's years of production experience, as he composed, produced, and mixed the project almost entirely by himself, with additional recording from Robin Eaton. Always inspired to make bold and experimental choices that capture his instincts in the moment, Bronaugh's production style is informed by "wanting to do the weird thing that engineers wouldn't approve of," as he describes it. "My favorite part of making music is the mistakes."

It was just a matter of time till these two pearls of the Berlin club scene came together for the ultimate master combo: SACHSENTRANCE x DURCH.

The result stands for the core values of both collectives itself: pressed into a double vinyl with tracks of Metaraph, OCD, dj genderfluid, H369 & Trancemaster Krause, Tonni3000, Sabu! ft. $errano $chinken and Akribisch Rapid, this collaboration embodies a harmonious blend pushing the ideals of inclusivity, diversity and a liberated mindset, celebrating the beauty of different perspectives expressed through music and paving the way for a culture founded on openness and freedom of existence.

With her third Gondwana album, "Constellation", Manchester"s Caoilfhionn Rose has come of age as an artist, digging deep to find experimental new ways of expressing her wonder at nature"s beauty, her love of music in all its diversity, and her belief in the restorative powers that both afford in the troubled post-COVID world. The ten tracks on "Constellation" feel rooted in a knowledge of folk, jazz and all the twentieth century"s classic tunesmiths, and yet they seem to create a magical, otherworldly space of her own imagining, blending Caoilfhionn"s core piano with synths, and pitting a live rhythm section and saxophone embellishments against ambient samples and future-facing production techniques.

With her third Gondwana album, "Constellation", Manchester"s Caoilfhionn Rose has come of age as an artist, digging deep to find experimental new ways of expressing her wonder at nature"s beauty, her love of music in all its diversity, and her belief in the restorative powers that both afford in the troubled post-COVID world. The ten tracks on "Constellation" feel rooted in a knowledge of folk, jazz and all the twentieth century"s classic tunesmiths, and yet they seem to create a magical, otherworldly space of her own imagining, blending Caoilfhionn"s core piano with synths, and pitting a live rhythm section and saxophone embellishments against ambient samples and future-facing production techniques.

The music industry, once revered as a realm of artistic expression and creativity, has gradually transformed into a breeding ground for commercial nonsense. The rampant commercialization of music has resulted in an environment where genuine talent often takes a backseat to profit-driven motives. It’s high time we unmask and challenge the prevailing commercial bullshit that plagues the music scene today.

In the midst of all this commercial nonsense, it’s essential to recognize that there is a thriving underground and independent music scene where authenticity and creativity still flourish. Listeners can play a vital role in reshaping the music industry by supporting independent artists, seeking out diverse sounds, and rejecting the homogenized offerings of major labels.

To combat the commercial bullshit in the music scene, we must prioritize artistry over profit, diversity over uniformity, and creativity over conformity. Only by championing these values can we hope to revive the music industry as a bastion of authentic expression and genuine talent, free from the shackles of commercial exploitation.

Intrigue's self-released synth-funk rarity released officially for the first time by Backatcha. Recorded in 1986 by the same line-up that created the classics 'I Like It', 'Call Of The Heart', 'No Turning Back' and more, 'One Touch' expresses the woes of a homewrecker over a "midnight" groove weighted with synth bass and rhythm delay. This limited 12" is a forerunner to the forthcoming Intrigue compilation featuring previously unreleased material alongside the group's sought-after catalogue of recordings.

With 'Stone Flute', the free-improvising duo's third studio album proper, Galecstasy returns to the universe of synthesizers to deliver an aural odyssey, conjuring the ancient tones of a forgotten world.
The album was entirely conceived and recorded in, and around, the majestic landscapes of Joshua Tree National Park in the magnificent high desert of southern California. From atop the mountain, the two sonic surveyors were witness to a 360 degree view of the stars at night. From above, the giant rocks looked like immense wise faces looking up at the sky, or even huge bodies resting on the Earth and looking up at space. It was during this time that Galecstasy started a ritual that ended up being called the “Moon Cruise”. This would involve waiting for the full moon to rise and then driving into the national park after dark. They would turn off the headlights of the car and drive slowly through the alien landscape lit up by the moon. Boulder fields took on the shape of temples; faces carved into the rocks everywhere they looked; giant heads with smiles or haunting expressions; and the knowledge that people had been living, dancing, and making music here for thousands of years. It was during these enchanting escapades that 'Stone Flute' was conceived.
In the mountain-top recording studio, the band were utilizing every potential space to tap into the best vibrations the land had to offer. Where the mic was placed: Perhaps a giant boulder once stood, or an ancient tree. One could feel the different energies of every room. The fireplace in the living room was built of giant lava rocks for the music to swirl around. Sounds would spill and climb around the house.

"The living room was just a beautiful tangle of synthesizers and plants. It was an inspiring place to make great records. We channeled the music of the boulders buoyed by the energy shooting up from the fault lines. The good feelings emanated from the studio, it had become our own temple and the birthplace of 'Stone Flute'."

With 'Stone Flute', the free-improvising duo's third studio album proper, Galecstasy returns to the universe of synthesizers to deliver an aural odyssey, conjuring the ancient tones of a forgotten world.
The album was entirely conceived and recorded in, and around, the majestic landscapes of Joshua Tree National Park in the magnificent high desert of southern California. From atop the mountain, the two sonic surveyors were witness to a 360 degree view of the stars at night. From above, the giant rocks looked like immense wise faces looking up at the sky, or even huge bodies resting on the Earth and looking up at space. It was during this time that Galecstasy started a ritual that ended up being called the “Moon Cruise”. This would involve waiting for the full moon to rise and then driving into the national park after dark. They would turn off the headlights of the car and drive slowly through the alien landscape lit up by the moon. Boulder fields took on the shape of temples; faces carved into the rocks everywhere they looked; giant heads with smiles or haunting expressions; and the knowledge that people had been living, dancing, and making music here for thousands of years. It was during these enchanting escapades that 'Stone Flute' was conceived.
In the mountain-top recording studio, the band were utilizing every potential space to tap into the best vibrations the land had to offer. Where the mic was placed: Perhaps a giant boulder once stood, or an ancient tree. One could feel the different energies of every room. The fireplace in the living room was built of giant lava rocks for the music to swirl around. Sounds would spill and climb around the house.

"The living room was just a beautiful tangle of synthesizers and plants. It was an inspiring place to make great records. We channeled the music of the boulders buoyed by the energy shooting up from the fault lines. The good feelings emanated from the studio, it had become our own temple and the birthplace of 'Stone Flute'."

Composed by Jim O’Rourke and pieced together by Jim together with longtime collaborator and trumpeter Eivind Lønning at Jim and Eiko Ishibashi’s home in the Japanese mountains, this engrossing new album blows brass wails and tense fanfares across O'Rourke's manipulated Kyma tapestries for a deep, captivating trip into the aether.

Eivind Lønning has been sharing ideas with O'Rourke for several years: the duo collaborated on music for the Whitney's 'Calder: Hypermobility' exhibition, and Lønning played trumpet on O'Rourke's brilliant 2020 album 'Shutting Down Here'. For this new work, Lønning headed to O'Rourke and EIko Ishibashi's home studio in the Japanese mountains, where he teased unfamiliar, alien textures from his trumpet to open the labyrinthine three-part composition. O'Rourke took the material and subsequently funnelled it through his Kyma system, transforming it into a swirl of sound that hums alongside Lønning's original takes. The album was composed, mixed and mastered by O'Rourke, with everything's based on Lønning's virtuosic performance.

The album begins by cautiously introducing us to its sonic palette: wavering, bird-like horn wails that O'Rourke contorts around quiet synth oscillations and computerised swarms. Lønning's spittle-drenched blasts are given the spotlight, but O'Rourke's manipulations - often gentle and illusory, and sometimes utterly lacerating - lift the sounds into completely new territory. When Lønning begins to turn rhythmic cycles using the trumpet keys, popping with his mouth to compliment its leathery timbre, O'Rourke replies with dense, hallucinatory drones, juxtaposing unstable electronics with Lønning's breathy, sustained notes. All these sounds coalesce into a dizzy vortex, but O'Rourke is careful not to overwhelm the senses, dropping to near silence as the first act transitions into the second. O'Rourke pelts Lønning's vertiginous wails, steadily mutating them into Xenakis-like stabs until they sound like cybernetic strings and icy tones that extract the tension from Lønning's brassy harmonics.

The third act is more screwed, with O'Rourke allowing Lønning's improvisations wail into cathedral-strength reverb, accompanying the sound with glassy penetrations and throbbing subs. Here, Lønning sounds as if he's heralding the arrival of a celestial being, piercing the atmosphere with bright, sustained tones and muted, jazzy flourishes. O'Rourke hangs back, carefully spinning the notes into naturalistic fibres and orchestral drapery, before he allows the electronics to subside completely and the trumpet to echo into the imposing negative space.

'Most, but Potentially All' is a dumbfounding piece that shifts the dial on contemporary experimental music; dizzyingly complex but never showy, it's the kind of record you can spin repeatedly and hear something different each time. As an exploration of the trumpet, it's a unique expression, and as a progression of electro-acoustic compositional techniques, it draws a deep trench in the sand, setting a new standard.

By now one of our most cherished and respected portuguese songwriters, Maria Reis has been steadily creating a legacy that will undoubtedly endure in the portuguese songwriting canon for years to come. Co-founder of the Lisbon based Cafetra label- collective, Reis spent her teenage years honing her craft, particularly with her co- leading role on Pega Monstro with her sister Júlia Reis, with albums like 'Alfarroba' and 'Casa de Cima' on Upset !the Rhythm and whose indefinite hiatus since 2018 opened the gateway for a prolific solo venture. After a raw debut EP released in 2017 – Maria -, 2019 saw the release of the celebrated 'Chove na Sala, Água nos Olhos', a definitive statement of Reis' almost casual gift of painting vivid and impressionistic portraits of everyday life, conveying all the anger, resignation and melancholic joy of moving on. Two years later, following a string of widely praised live appearances, Reis records the 'Flor da Urtiga' EP with musical production of Noah Lennox aka Panda Bear, a sweeter affair, crossed by a witty irony that tackles such subjects as family, love and toxic masculinity, through layered acoustic guitars, lightweight percussion and joyful harmonies. 'Benefício da Dúvida' from 2022, strips back most of the production to rely on simple but affirmative arrangements assembled with the help of her sister Júlia and longtime collaborator Leonardo Bindilatti.

And now, almost two years on the clock after 'Benefício da Dúvida', Maria Reis returns with a newfound maturity with 'Suspiro...' - Portuguese for sigh. Created in close collaboration with Tomé Silva - a young and versatile musician and producer who's been recently leaving a mark on the portuguese scene - and recorded in the intimacy of the latter's bedroom, 'Suspiro...' doesn't cut ties with that recent past but reflects the learning process embedded in previous ventures in its lyrics and arrangements, towards song's eternity. A projection of different emotional states and physical spaces throughout these years, 'Suspiro...' carries in the apparent simplicity of its title the plurality of meanings found in such a natural act, from anger to being in love, from resignation to resilience. Life in a sigh? We've been further from that.

An attentive and sensitive observer of both intimate and surrounding spaces, Maria Reis continues to explore wordplay in her very personal manner, a poetic act as brutally honest as filled with imagery allusions, enchanting the mundane with lyricism. Touched by a resigned and dreamy melancholy, 'Suspiro...' settles, for the most part, on electric and acoustic guitar lines, simple but expressive rhythms, floating vocal harmonies and a voice almost tangible in the way it conveys memorable hooks without fear of appearing both fragile and tenacious. 'Amor Serpente's low key tragedy turned mantra for life, the blissed pop of 'Estagnação' or 'T-shirt', 'Holofote's flailing rawness, the mesmerizing sparkle of 'Pico', 'Meta Data's electrified energy or the playful keyboards and sound effects of 'Coisas do Passado' composing a lively portrait of reality and expectations where we can all see ourselves reflected in. For Maria, almost a second nature, that through all her honesty, know how and imagination, reaches a new life with 'Suspiro...'.

"It's time. Africa, it's time. It's time that Africa changes. It's time our leaders change. Everything that happens in Africa is extraordinary. We have everything: water, earth, sun, fields of oil, gas. We have all this in Africa, but Africa is still poor. It's time we change our way of thinking. It's time for Africans to take their destiny into their own hands. If not, others will take it." This is the message instrumental guitarist Tidiane Thiam hopes to convey with his new solo album, Africa Yontii, a Pulaar title that translates to "Africa Time." To a casual listener, Thiam's bold statement starkly contrasts with his melodic playing. But a closer listen to Thiam's expressive playing reveals a thoughtful voice that stands out from the crop of contemporary guitarists. "What I should be singing (with words) I'm instead saying with my guitar," he says. Hailing from the sleepy fishing Senegalese fishing town of Podor, home of the great Baaba Maal, Thiam taught himself guitar by playing along to late-night radio broadcasts of Manding music. He soon developed his style, often reworking Pulaar folk themes into his compositions. On Africa Yontii, Thiam's third album for Sahel Sounds, he teamed up with hip-hop beat maker Ndiaye Moctar from studio M.N. Records to provide accompaniment, integrating unexpected elements such as field recordings and electronic sounds. In the liner notes for Africa Yontii, Thiam voices his concerns about the lack of opportunities for Africa's youth and the lonely road that can come with leaving behind loved ones in the hope of a better life. He also sprinkles in a philosophical query about the eroding state of the world alongside two more hopeful, traditional offerings in the form of wedding and river songs. Despite the sometimes heavy subject matter, Thiam's love for his homeland and heritage shines through. Tidiane Thiam's Africa Yontii reclaims the maligned "world music" genre within a sonic space that has long been dominated by others telling the story. As the title suggests - It's time!