Suche:the friend

American singer-songwriter, poet, and photographer Thomas Meluch, known musically as Benoît Pioulard, returns with his most structured and vocal release to date. Titled »Eidetic,« a word denoting the ability to recall mental images with extraordinarily rich precision, the album presents unprecedented clarity and vitality for Benoît Pioulard. To access its thematic ground, Meluch looked inward with an affinity towards the people he loves during a period marked by his move from Seattle to Brooklyn in 2019. The resulting work engages with the universe's unflinching mortality and, as he says, »the ways it has modified and improved my relationships, especially with family.« Embodied by the creek, leaves, and ferns of the cover photography — taken in Michigan’s Burchfield Park, where he and his dad used to hike and »muse on existence« — the music glistens and unfurls with the flow of life he’s come to know. »Eidetic« is the culmination of Meluch's craft both as a producer and writer. An evocative sonic vocabulary meets deft lyrical introspection, articulated with the nuance, vulnerability, and confidence of a longtime artist hitting a stride.

Meluch has continually refined, redefined, and adjusted the focus of his gentle pop project over the last 20 years. Recorded primarily with guitar, tapes, and voice — and spanning labels with albums for Kranky, Morr Music, Beacon Sound, and Past Inside the Present — his catalog flows seamlessly between ambient improvisation and pop composition. Much like the analog photos that often accompany his releases, songs can feel dreamily softened and distant, and others beautifully vivid and detailed. 2021 full-length »Bloodless« found Meluch deep in droning decay, expressive yet wordless. With »Eidetic,« he swings back to sharpened forms. Lush banks of treated guitar and synth brush against hushed percussion; there is mist in the distance, but everything up close is intricately constructed and radiant. Meluch's voice is notably forward in the mix — a warm and calming tenor, a harmonic coo more than a whisper — ever-observant and actively processing.

To record much of the album, Meluch filled a cabin in rural Maine with his usual setup of simple percussion, a couple of Fender electrics, and a parlor guitar made by his friend who does bespoke luthier work. The modest utility is what he knows best, and here he pushes the output to its most pristine potential.

»Eidetic« opens in a swirl of familiar haze; »Margaret Murie« eases listeners in, as lush and verdant as the landscapes conserved by its famed namesake. With the setting established, Meluch, the narrator, enters the foreground with »Crux,« a tender piece written about finding new motivations in a new city. »We covet this rare green hue / Here at the farthest point from home,« he sings above a reassuring pattern of strums and percussion. Meluch's prose shines on the swiftly-moving »Nameless,« inspired by the neurological effects that came with the antiquated practice of manufacturing mercury mirrors; »folks would slowly go insane while looking into their own reflections every day,« he adds. The idea informs a series of surreal abstractions before everything drops out in the final minute, and we are left free-floating in eerie nothingness.

Across the album, labyrinthine lyrical ponderings scatter with dazzling imagery, artfully blurring scenes from world history with Meluch's more personal, present-day. The propulsive and earnest »Thursday Night« catches his mind overly active and too stoned, riffing on black holes and songwriting itself. »Halve« references the splitting of the atom, what he considers »the beginning of man's downfall,« and the unrealized initiative proposed by the US government that would have created 'nuclear refuges' in its national parks. Meluch's loved ones weave throughout; »Tet« holds his father's experience in Vietnam and its lasting effects. »Lillian Isola« touches on his maternal grandmother's spinal curvature, and »Pastel Dust« navigates the wake of his cat, who died on New Year's Eve 2020.

At first blush, Meluch's atmospheric and melodic sensibilities resonate purely in their own right. Upon closer meditation, his ability to render stories — many of which surround human tragedy, misfortune, and understanding — through the prism of his poetry makes »Eidetic« even more rewarding.

Dark Green Vinyl

American singer-songwriter, poet, and photographer Thomas Meluch, known musically as Benoît Pioulard, returns with his most structured and vocal release to date. Titled »Eidetic,« a word denoting the ability to recall mental images with extraordinarily rich precision, the album presents unprecedented clarity and vitality for Benoît Pioulard. To access its thematic ground, Meluch looked inward with an affinity towards the people he loves during a period marked by his move from Seattle to Brooklyn in 2019. The resulting work engages with the universe's unflinching mortality and, as he says, »the ways it has modified and improved my relationships, especially with family.« Embodied by the creek, leaves, and ferns of the cover photography — taken in Michigan’s Burchfield Park, where he and his dad used to hike and »muse on existence« — the music glistens and unfurls with the flow of life he’s come to know. »Eidetic« is the culmination of Meluch's craft both as a producer and writer. An evocative sonic vocabulary meets deft lyrical introspection, articulated with the nuance, vulnerability, and confidence of a longtime artist hitting a stride.

Meluch has continually refined, redefined, and adjusted the focus of his gentle pop project over the last 20 years. Recorded primarily with guitar, tapes, and voice — and spanning labels with albums for Kranky, Morr Music, Beacon Sound, and Past Inside the Present — his catalog flows seamlessly between ambient improvisation and pop composition. Much like the analog photos that often accompany his releases, songs can feel dreamily softened and distant, and others beautifully vivid and detailed. 2021 full-length »Bloodless« found Meluch deep in droning decay, expressive yet wordless. With »Eidetic,« he swings back to sharpened forms. Lush banks of treated guitar and synth brush against hushed percussion; there is mist in the distance, but everything up close is intricately constructed and radiant. Meluch's voice is notably forward in the mix — a warm and calming tenor, a harmonic coo more than a whisper — ever-observant and actively processing.

To record much of the album, Meluch filled a cabin in rural Maine with his usual setup of simple percussion, a couple of Fender electrics, and a parlor guitar made by his friend who does bespoke luthier work. The modest utility is what he knows best, and here he pushes the output to its most pristine potential.

»Eidetic« opens in a swirl of familiar haze; »Margaret Murie« eases listeners in, as lush and verdant as the landscapes conserved by its famed namesake. With the setting established, Meluch, the narrator, enters the foreground with »Crux,« a tender piece written about finding new motivations in a new city. »We covet this rare green hue / Here at the farthest point from home,« he sings above a reassuring pattern of strums and percussion. Meluch's prose shines on the swiftly-moving »Nameless,« inspired by the neurological effects that came with the antiquated practice of manufacturing mercury mirrors; »folks would slowly go insane while looking into their own reflections every day,« he adds. The idea informs a series of surreal abstractions before everything drops out in the final minute, and we are left free-floating in eerie nothingness.

Across the album, labyrinthine lyrical ponderings scatter with dazzling imagery, artfully blurring scenes from world history with Meluch's more personal, present-day. The propulsive and earnest »Thursday Night« catches his mind overly active and too stoned, riffing on black holes and songwriting itself. »Halve« references the splitting of the atom, what he considers »the beginning of man's downfall,« and the unrealized initiative proposed by the US government that would have created 'nuclear refuges' in its national parks. Meluch's loved ones weave throughout; »Tet« holds his father's experience in Vietnam and its lasting effects. »Lillian Isola« touches on his maternal grandmother's spinal curvature, and »Pastel Dust« navigates the wake of his cat, who died on New Year's Eve 2020.

At first blush, Meluch's atmospheric and melodic sensibilities resonate purely in their own right. Upon closer meditation, his ability to render stories — many of which surround human tragedy, misfortune, and understanding — through the prism of his poetry makes »Eidetic« even more rewarding.

Lawrence Hayward knew that he wanted to be a pop star as a teen, and he devised a plan to release ten albums and ten singles over ten years to make that dream come true. A particular and determined individual, he would only be known as Lawrence from that day forward. His hopes for stardom would be pinned on his newly formed band, the succinctly named Felt. Soon signed to Cherry Red Records, Lawrence’s achingly cool vocals and the group’s way with walking melodies were evident on their debut for the label, “Something Sends Me To Sleep.” This compilation collects material from Felt’s Cherry Red period of 1981 to 1985, kicking off with that confident start, assembling numerous high points, and closing with their biggest hit, “Primitive Painters.”

This phase of the band is defined by the songwriting partnership and unique interplay of Lawrence and guitarist Maurice Deebank, with Deebank’s stylish and confident playing the envy of many of their counterparts. He delivers a constant string of shimmering hooks that wrap themselves around and over top of Lawrence’s more traditional beat combo song structures, as if trying to fit four songs worth of ideas into a pre-set radio friendly cutoff time. It works wonderfully as Lawrence always counters with a solid bedrock.

In one of many brushes with the brass ring, in 1984 Felt recorded versions of “Dismantled King Is Off The Throne” and “Sunlight Bathed The Golden Glow,” for the newly formed and Warners-backed label Blanco y Negro, in hopes that the band would follow their A+R man Mike Alway to the executive suite. Despite putting forward two of their finest songs, it was not to be. While major label dreams had to remain on the shelf, fans were delighted to be able to hear these beautifully stripped down and more direct versions when this compilation was released a few years later.

By 1985 the Felt roller coaster was something Maurice Deebank was constantly getting on and off of. As Gary Ainge always kept the beat, and Lawrence never lost focus, they were joined by local teen prodigy Martin Duffy on keyboards, filling out the arrangements, and following Deebank’s racing six-string cascades in “The Day The Rain Came Down” you can even hear a tiny hint of the next phase of the band in Duffy’s organ before Maurice swoops to the finish. The newly expanded Felt would then put everything they had into making one of the defining releases of the 80s: “Primitive Painters.”

Lawrence Hayward knew that he wanted to be a pop star as a teen, and he devised a plan to release ten albums and ten singles over ten years to make that dream come true. A particular and determined individual, he would only be known as Lawrence from that day forward. His hopes for stardom would be pinned on his newly formed band, the succinctly named Felt. Soon signed to Cherry Red Records, Lawrence’s achingly cool vocals and the group’s way with walking melodies were evident on their debut for the label, “Something Sends Me To Sleep.” This compilation collects material from Felt’s Cherry Red period of 1981 to 1985, kicking off with that confident start, assembling numerous high points, and closing with their biggest hit, “Primitive Painters.”

This phase of the band is defined by the songwriting partnership and unique interplay of Lawrence and guitarist Maurice Deebank, with Deebank’s stylish and confident playing the envy of many of their counterparts. He delivers a constant string of shimmering hooks that wrap themselves around and over top of Lawrence’s more traditional beat combo song structures, as if trying to fit four songs worth of ideas into a pre-set radio friendly cutoff time. It works wonderfully as Lawrence always counters with a solid bedrock.

In one of many brushes with the brass ring, in 1984 Felt recorded versions of “Dismantled King Is Off The Throne” and “Sunlight Bathed The Golden Glow,” for the newly formed and Warners-backed label Blanco y Negro, in hopes that the band would follow their A+R man Mike Alway to the executive suite. Despite putting forward two of their finest songs, it was not to be. While major label dreams had to remain on the shelf, fans were delighted to be able to hear these beautifully stripped down and more direct versions when this compilation was released a few years later.

By 1985 the Felt roller coaster was something Maurice Deebank was constantly getting on and off of. As Gary Ainge always kept the beat, and Lawrence never lost focus, they were joined by local teen prodigy Martin Duffy on keyboards, filling out the arrangements, and following Deebank’s racing six-string cascades in “The Day The Rain Came Down” you can even hear a tiny hint of the next phase of the band in Duffy’s organ before Maurice swoops to the finish. The newly expanded Felt would then put everything they had into making one of the defining releases of the 80s: “Primitive Painters.”

When the pandemic hit, Hannah van Loon adopted a dog named Gizmo, who became a much-needed companion while the Bay Area musician wrote her second album as Tanukichan. Aptly Named after her new four-legged friend, GIZMO is an exercise in release, whether from situational hindrances—a forced lockdown, for one—or from self-imposed hedonistic coping mechanisms.“ A theme I always had floating around was escape,” van Loon explains of her follow-up to 2018’s Sundays. “Escaping from myself, my problems, sadness and cycles.”

To channel the more uplifting spirit she wanted for GIZMO, van Loon turned to the radio pop-rock of her childhood: “I was struck by the in-your-face positivity of the lyrics,” she adds,referencing artists like 311, The Cranberries, and Tom Petty. “I wanted to bring that positivity while writing about the sad and helpless emotions I’d been grappling with.” But GIZMO’s lightheartedness doesn’t make it shallow: “I think that I could let it go, as beautiful as snow,” she murmurs on “Don’t Give Up,” a nu metal-meets-Cocteau Twins groove about the sudden awareness that all the relationships you depend on could vanish instantaneously. Van Loon’s main collaborator on GIZMO was Toro y Moi’s Chaz Bear, and the jangly pop earworm “Take Care” showcases the heavily distorted, in-your-face guitar work reminiscent of Bear’s own psych joints What For? And Mahal. On the hypnotic, wall-of-sound-rocker “Thin Air” featuring Enumclaw, van Loon channels the triumphant grit of The Smashing Pumpkins as she ponders the impermanence of even the most impactful relationships: “I’ll always have the memories/Of how you used to make me see/Until they fell in the ocean/They’re not swimming/They’re not floating.”

Existentialism aside, GIZMO also sees van Loon break out of her sonic comfort zone. “One ofthe main changes of how I’m approaching music now is that I want to have more fun in the process,” she says, and she walks the line between melodrama and whimsy gracefully: “I can learn something because I’ve been here before,” she sings on the soaring, bittersweet “Been Here Before.” Deftones-inspired thrash drums and screeching electric guitars are gracefully contrasted with van Loon’s hypnotic, almost deadpan vocal style and a crystal clear acoustic guitar she describes as “cute.” Gizmo the dog suddenly passed away right as van Loon finished the album, but he’s immortalised with his photo on the cover—a fitting emblem of this new era of Tanukichan.

Electronic music legend and head of Editions Mego, Peter Rehberg, teams up with zeitkratzer mastermind Reinhold Friedl. 3 side-long pieces melting electronic / contemporary avantgarde. Uncompromising.

When Peter "Pita" Rehberg and Reinhold Friedl first met each other, they did not like each other "at all," as Friedl emphasises with a hearty laugh. The two would however eventually bond over the years thanks to a mutual respect for each other's music. In the summer of 2021, they entered the studio together for the first time. Their joint album for Berlin's Karlrecords is a faithful document—no editing, no overdubs—of their improvisations during two recording sessions shortly before Rehberg's sudden and untimely passing on July 22nd of that year. The three pieces see Rehberg working with electronics and Friedl with his inside piano, proving that they had indeed managed to find a common ground—up to a point where it at times becomes hard to tell who plays what on this record.

Friedl ran into Rehberg in Zbigniew Karkowski's tiny Tokyo apartment in 1999 while organising the first edition of the Off-ICMC that was set to take place in the following year. "I came uninvited and slept a night at Zbigeniew's before Peter arrived and I had to move out," remembers Friedl, who ended up inviting the Mego founder to perform at the Off-ICMC even though he found it hard to relate to his music. "We had very different backgrounds: he came from industrial and I had roots in classical music and improv, a high-brow prick!" After having met several times at different concerts without ever really speaking to each other in the following years, a concert in Vienna in the late 2010s marked a turning point in their relationship (or lack thereof). Playing their sets back to back and loving every second of what the other was doing, the two finally clicked on musical level. "We met for dinner on each of the three following nights!," remembers Friedl.

The two would go on to become good friends, meeting regularly to discuss music and everything else while both were living in Vienna just a few minutes away from each other. Rehberg put out Friedl's collaboration with Eryck Abecassis, "Animal Électrique" on his Editions Mego label in 2020 and eventually they entered the studio twice for sessions that were completely improvised with no prior preparation. "Caciara," "Chiasso," and "Clamore"—named retrospectively after three Italian words for "noise"—capture the spontaneity of two artists who had always been outliers in their respective fields finding a common ground in sprawling dynamics and sonic intensity as well as enabling each other to expand their individual sound palettes. "Peter gave me cover," explains Friedl. "I had the feeling that I was able to do things I otherwise wouldn't play."

Green Marbled Vinyl


Following up to his maiden transmission for the label, "Cosmic Silence", issued a year ago, Italian producer Alessandro Cozzolino AKA Cioz resurfaces on Stil vor Talent with his longed-for debut album "Supermassive Whole" - a ten-track cosmic odyssey in sound percolating staple elements of Cioz's palette of choice, from otherworldly techno to Latin-inflected house, via the obvious injection of kosmische and electronica soundscaping.

The lead single "Wachaka" - recorded in collaboration with Cape Town producer Ryan Murgatroyd, exemplifies Cozzolino's electrifying approach to a T. An inch-perfectly balanced mix of Afro-infused polyrhythmic bravura and seesawing synth moves, the track swells with a blazing fire at heart that keeps on sprawling infectiously with each and every bar. Trading the linear buildup for most sensuous levels of syncopation, "Me Monkey" serves up a warmer kind of funk, perfect for getting snug and cozy before an avalanche of seesawing chords up the ante towards space-opera-esque amplitude. All in elusive sinuosity and processed machine talk, "Harakat" dwells the confines of wonky house templates and polyamorous EBM, while "I Always Wanted To..." goes the slo-burning, counterclockwise route, primed for languid moments in the alcove.

"B1" is perhaps the most spitting avatar of the Italian whiz's hybrid rolling-and-pounding rhythmic style, nicely embodying both its quirky, hip-swaying and fanfare-like percussive aspects. The ecstatically bouncy "Do It The Way You Feel" showcases Cioz's more rousing, floor-friendly facet with a killer combo of hi-octane electro dynamics, pop-rock motif'd hooks and slashing breaks taking the controls. The mood also happens to be melancholic at times, such as on the beautifully understated "Is This Real", which bridges the gap betwixt piano-house déjà-vu - here tweaked to distinctively soul-wrenching effect, and a prog buildup glossed under a thick sauce of FX, similar to that of "Sudpol Birgit"'s inflating saturation in the post-prod treatment. Somewhat brushed with balearic shades in mind, "Pace e Amore" follows a more classic curve, slowly veering off onto ambient-laced territories, while "Lost in Space" evokes a certain idea of gravity-defying plenitude through that ever intuitive and subtly arranged collage of tender wistfulness and endless attraction towards the groove, which defines Cozzolino's phraseology so fittingly.

Kate NV's WOW offers listeners a prismatic shift in perspective and scale, a parallel dimension in which the mundane becomes funny, unfamiliar, and altogether sensational. Turning the contents of her 2020 album Room for the Moon upside down and spilling them across a floor checkered with intrigue and surprise, Kate places sound, object, and ritual under the microscope to magnify the delight hidden in plain sight of everyday life. WOW is Kate Shilonosova's fourth full-length release as Kate NV in six years, and third for RVNG Intl. Her prolific musical output aligns with a highly attuned aesthetic and a deep commitment to visual world building. WOW is one of many of these worlds in which music is fully saturated with color, deeply tactile and textural. Shiny, sproingy, plastic. Where Room for the Moon embraced structure (abstractly speaking) and veered pop, WOW happily abandons conventional song shapes, parsing the experience of musical time into ecstatic fragments. It's difficult to imagine a more fitting album title: pure exclamation, an organic pitch of delight leaving the mouth, with no clear etymological links. On Room for the Moon, Shilonosova's voice was layered and lyrical, with sweeping and urgent melodies. WOW finds her as a peripheral purveyor of high jinks, peeking out from the corners, commenting on her surroundings in non-verbal, and arguably non-human, utterances. Instead of employing lyricism, Shilonosova steps outside of language, and rewards us with a gum ball machine of textures: soda fizz and wind-up teeth and scraps of bubble wrap become comically huge, as if heard from an insect's perspective. Words are tasty plosives, onomatopoeias, percussive chirps and one-liners, and singing serves as another form of what Shilonosova refers to as "funny tiny sounds." WOW skews and skitters, trips over its own feet and laughs about it, plays out of tune on purpose, tilts and leans like a top-heavy flower. Shilonosova is a longtime user of Found Sound Nation's Broken Orchestra sample pack, a sound catalog of over one thousand dilapidated instruments sourced from Philadelphia public schools. These perfectly imperfect instruments are tightly spliced into WOW's patchwork of synthesizer and reworked snippets of Shilonosova's friends playing clarinet, flute, and marimba. It's central to the record's internal logic: a disregard for what is, and isn't, broken, what is, and isn't, a sentence or a song. A commingling of subject and object, with a firmly new wave sensibility. Shilonosova has long had an unusual relationship with inanimate objects (citing her bicycle as her best friend), as if the joys they evoke for her are personality traits of the objects themselves. On WOW, she evinces a kind of inverted anthropomorphism: she shrinks her voice and becomes an object among multitudes, toylike in size and perspective, cohabitating with sedentary, indifferent roommates. This pursuit of childlike perspectives is a thread that runs through much of her catalog, and places her work on a plane with that of her personal hero Nobukazu Takemura, who for decades has treated his music as a portal to childlike curiosity, both in subject matter and tone. With an invitation to pursue this curiosity, WOW further confirms Kate NV's deeply inventive, fluid and technically dizzying artistry. By refusing constraints and rules, Shilonosova embodies a profound freedom, allowing objects, sounds, and processes to unfold organically; or, as she puts it, a commitment to "accepting randomness." She succeeds terrifically at a breed of auditory defamiliarization that is all her own, and the rewards for listeners are many: through her lens, the small becomes monstrous, the abstract becomes sensorial, and the old becomes new. Kate NV's WOW will be released on February 10, 2023 on vinyl and digital formats. On behalf of Kate NV and RVNG, a portion of the proceeds from this release will benefit War Child, an organization that supports children and their families impacted by conflict, and working to build sustainable peace for generations to come.

Yellow Vinyl

Kate NV's WOW offers listeners a prismatic shift in perspective and scale, a parallel dimension in which the mundane becomes funny, unfamiliar, and altogether sensational. Turning the contents of her 2020 album Room for the Moon upside down and spilling them across a floor checkered with intrigue and surprise, Kate places sound, object, and ritual under the microscope to magnify the delight hidden in plain sight of everyday life. WOW is Kate Shilonosova's fourth full-length release as Kate NV in six years, and third for RVNG Intl. Her prolific musical output aligns with a highly attuned aesthetic and a deep commitment to visual world building. WOW is one of many of these worlds in which music is fully saturated with color, deeply tactile and textural. Shiny, sproingy, plastic. Where Room for the Moon embraced structure (abstractly speaking) and veered pop, WOW happily abandons conventional song shapes, parsing the experience of musical time into ecstatic fragments. It's difficult to imagine a more fitting album title: pure exclamation, an organic pitch of delight leaving the mouth, with no clear etymological links. On Room for the Moon, Shilonosova's voice was layered and lyrical, with sweeping and urgent melodies. WOW finds her as a peripheral purveyor of high jinks, peeking out from the corners, commenting on her surroundings in non-verbal, and arguably non-human, utterances. Instead of employing lyricism, Shilonosova steps outside of language, and rewards us with a gum ball machine of textures: soda fizz and wind-up teeth and scraps of bubble wrap become comically huge, as if heard from an insect's perspective. Words are tasty plosives, onomatopoeias, percussive chirps and one-liners, and singing serves as another form of what Shilonosova refers to as "funny tiny sounds." WOW skews and skitters, trips over its own feet and laughs about it, plays out of tune on purpose, tilts and leans like a top-heavy flower. Shilonosova is a longtime user of Found Sound Nation's Broken Orchestra sample pack, a sound catalog of over one thousand dilapidated instruments sourced from Philadelphia public schools. These perfectly imperfect instruments are tightly spliced into WOW's patchwork of synthesizer and reworked snippets of Shilonosova's friends playing clarinet, flute, and marimba. It's central to the record's internal logic: a disregard for what is, and isn't, broken, what is, and isn't, a sentence or a song. A commingling of subject and object, with a firmly new wave sensibility. Shilonosova has long had an unusual relationship with inanimate objects (citing her bicycle as her best friend), as if the joys they evoke for her are personality traits of the objects themselves. On WOW, she evinces a kind of inverted anthropomorphism: she shrinks her voice and becomes an object among multitudes, toylike in size and perspective, cohabitating with sedentary, indifferent roommates. This pursuit of childlike perspectives is a thread that runs through much of her catalog, and places her work on a plane with that of her personal hero Nobukazu Takemura, who for decades has treated his music as a portal to childlike curiosity, both in subject matter and tone. With an invitation to pursue this curiosity, WOW further confirms Kate NV's deeply inventive, fluid and technically dizzying artistry. By refusing constraints and rules, Shilonosova embodies a profound freedom, allowing objects, sounds, and processes to unfold organically; or, as she puts it, a commitment to "accepting randomness." She succeeds terrifically at a breed of auditory defamiliarization that is all her own, and the rewards for listeners are many: through her lens, the small becomes monstrous, the abstract becomes sensorial, and the old becomes new. Kate NV's WOW will be released on February 10, 2023 on vinyl and digital formats. On behalf of Kate NV and RVNG, a portion of the proceeds from this release will benefit War Child, an organization that supports children and their families impacted by conflict, and working to build sustainable peace for generations to come.

"Hello, my friends. It's a big honor for me to release this EP on YUKU because I sincerely love lots of releases of this label and follow them practically since the day they started. I've created 5 tracks specially for this release.

They turned out to be very diverse, quite different, but at the same time cohesive.
5 tracks - like 5 variations and 5 stairs of my life. The cover by my friend, Kyiv-based artist Bohdan Burenko, perfectly outlines the mood of this EP. It shows 5 faces, 5 characters, and 5 stories.

I should mention that some demos for these tracks I wrote back in 2018, when I lived in California. And the basis for 'The Wall' I wrote in the suburbs of Los Angeles in a small town Walnut. This explains the song title. Back then, I listened to a lot of old-school Metalheadz tracks, and I guess this music had a big impact on the atmosphere of this track. Same story with 'Runnin' Out' - I made the demo in US, then finished it when I was preparing the release for YUKU. 'Offset Range1' is my personal favorite. I wrote it in Kyiv, when I had Covid and was tweaking knobs on my sampler and automation on my synth. 99' is my nostalgia for good ol' breakbeat and 'Vezhlivy Otkaz' has the most unusual drop I have ever written. Of course, it's an honor for me to have a remix by Tim Reaper on board, because I'm his fan.

I'm writing this text now in Kyiv. Because of Russian invasion, I'm not sure what my future will be like, but I don't see any reason to postpone this release. All the profit from this EP I'd like to send for the charity & restoration of the infrastructure of Ukraine.

Big thanks to YUKU team for understanding, professionalism and support."
Igor (Hidden Element)

In late 1996, after two years of persistent touring, Chisel was eager to document its quickly evolving sound. Decamping from their native D.C. to Brooklyn's Rare Book Room, the power trio of Ted Leo, Chris Norborg, and John Dugan teamed with engineer Nicolas Vernhes and came away with Set You Free, a remarkable, but largely overlooked, classic of the era. Originally issued on the venerable Gern Blandsten imprint in April 1997, Set You Free presaged the turn of the century 60s rock revival, providing a counterpoint to second-wave emo. This deluxe 25th anniversary edition has remastered and expanded the original's 17-song track list with five period alternates and rarities, plus a booklet of lyrics, photos, and an essay by Jes Skolnik. Get ready for the invasion.

In late 1996, after two years of persistent touring, Chisel was eager to document its quickly evolving sound. Decamping from their native D.C. to Brooklyn's Rare Book Room, the power trio of Ted Leo, Chris Norborg, and John Dugan teamed with engineer Nicolas Vernhes and came away with Set You Free, a remarkable, but largely overlooked, classic of the era. Originally issued on the venerable Gern Blandsten imprint in April 1997, Set You Free presaged the turn of the century 60s rock revival, providing a counterpoint to second-wave emo. This deluxe 25th anniversary edition has remastered and expanded the original's 17-song track list with five period alternates and rarities, plus a booklet of lyrics, photos, and an essay by Jes Skolnik. Get ready for the invasion.

Innemuseum is the debut album by Danish composer, singer and multi-instrumentalist Cisser Mæhl. The 10 fragile compositions for vocals, sparse electronics and a myriad of instrumentation illuminate a hushed charm unlike few other Sonic Pieces releases to date.

The album sparked off while Cisser was working in a mountain lodge in mid Norway during summer 2019. On her spare time she would find herself recording mountains, rivers, stones, plants and animals in the beautiful scenery. After moving to Oslo shortly after, she rented a studio to further work on her own music, songs and sound processing. Through some friends she met Norwegian artist Jenny Hval who became an inspiration as she started taking solo classes with her. Jenny then pushed to contact producer Lasse Marhaug to work together. This became the last piece of the puzzle for Innemuseum to come to fruition as Lasse ended up putting the final touches on the album. When Cisser returned to Copenhagen after 7 months in Oslo, the album was finished. The title “Innemuseum” refers to both the dark months in Oslo and the retraction towards the inner self. An inner museum - music from within, both as a person and as in physical places.

This is undeniably a very personal record that sounds like the musical embodiment of Cisser herself. She sings in Danish in a close-miked way like she's sitting right next to you, all while gentle rhythms and soft strings together create a sort of bright, minimal chamber music with hints of pop sensibility. It almost feels like a Scandinavian reflection of Colleen's work in her more quiet, vocal periods. A music box of weightless compositions for the conscious mind.

Repress

Palms Trax signals the arrival of his new label CWPT with ‘Petu’, a new single featuring South African vocalist, Nonku Phiri. Originally debuting in dub form during the Berlin-based DJ and producer’s set at The Music Locker as part of Grand Theft Auto Online, ‘Petu’ re-emerges here as a soulful collaboration, neatly complimented by a wide-eyed take from Masalo.

Initially written as a slow-heating instrumental to connect the various musical dots across a DJ set, Palms Trax nonetheless had a vocalist in mind throughout, a fresh voice to lend ‘Petu’ universality and energy. Introduced through mutual friend Esa, Johannesburg’s Nonku Phiri draws on her signature style influenced by vintage Afropop styles and folk traditions, delivering a smooth and vulnerable tale of desire. Triumphant brass recorded by instrumental collective Jungle By Night adds to the depth of instrumentation and feeling throughout, each element driven by Palms Trax’s ebullient percussion and an altogether celebratory energy felt across both the original and dub cuts.

Closely associated with Dutch dance music staple Rush Hour Records, Masalo subtly raises the tempo on his high-energy rework of Petu, spinning off the interconnected elements of the original into a memorable and gloriously Italo-tinged house trip.

Established in 2021, CWPT will play home to Palms Trax original productions alongside collaborations, mixtapes, new-generation artists and vital reissues. An online blog will feature interviews, reportage and charts exploring the stories past and present at the fringe of Palms Trax’s wide-reaching record collection.

Everything began with a chat between Systematic label head Marc Romboy and his long time friend Paolo aka Dusty Kid. During the pandemic times they reminisced about the most exciting period of techno music, the beginning of the 90s and exchanged tracks which have blown them away. They listened to tracks on labels like R&S, Plus 8, Industrial Strength and all over sudden they came to the idea to create a concept where Dusty Kid would put his hands on four of his most favorite tracks from 1992 and 1993. The result is this Various Artists track album including new interpretations of four classic tracks which changed their lifes and were, have been and still are iconic. Check every single track and jump into a time machine which transfers you to the early 90s and the future at the same time

Bladder Flask’s debut (in fact only) LP, originally issued by Orgel Fesper Music in 1981, is one of the most eclectic albums of the post-Industrial era. It is both challenging and perplexing… So, put down your puny instruments of normality and breathe in the frenzied fungal spores of Bladder Flask.

The fact that Steven Stapleton of Nurse With Wound is a big fan of this album is testament to its greatness: »I love Bladder Flask’s »One Day I Was So Sad That The Corners Of My Mouth Met & Everybody Thought I Was Whistling« and what a great title, perhaps my favourite ever. I must have listened to the album so much in the ’80s. I listened to it again recently and it was like welcoming an old friend.«

Personnel: Richard Rupenus, Philip Rupenus + Sean Breadin, John Mylotte, Nigel Jacklin Recorded at Wrongrong Studio and Spectro Arts Workshop 1980-1981 Audio Restoration & Mastering: Colin Potter @ IC Studio

UGLY is slowthai pulling himself apart and exposing his anxieties of the last couple of years, an acronym for U Gotta Love Yourself. Musically, this new album may show a side of him that people haven’t heard before but he sees it as the fullest picture yet - and attentive listeners will have noticed this musical tendency before. UGLY is about reconnecting with first principles. Plunging into rock music with as much singing as rapping, it is both a striking departure for slowthai and a return to the roots of Tyron Frampton. Recorded in producer Dan Carey’s home studio alongside frequent collaborator Kwes Darko, UGLY is a fluid combination of musicians including Ethan P. Flynn, Jockstrap’s Taylor Skye, Beabadoobee guitarist Jacob Bugden, drummer Liam Toon, and on the dark and woozy title track, his friends Fontaines D.C.

GAYLE’s ‘a study of the human experience’ album features both volume one and volume two. This is pressed for the first time on a single tangerine LP and is a one-time pressing. This vinyl release is a part of Atlantic Records' 75th Anniversary vinyl collection.

Wisconsin-based Wavefiler aka Steve Zydek and Vermont-based Go Outside aka Andrew Shaffer have a shared respect for one another's work as well as a personal friendship beyond music and that is what brought them together for this new EP having first met over Instagram. They started by sharing textural washes and snippets of melody with one another and then as the comms progressed they decided to work on a proper album as "audio penpals". Each track was written and finished before the next one was started and was then used as inspiration going forwards. It lends these lush ambient sounds a real sense of narrative.