Cerca:the ghost inside

"It was the most beautiful summer of my life."

Memories — places, vacancies, allusions — are fundamental characters in Mary Lattimore's evocative craft. Inside her music, wordless narratives, indenite travelogues, and braided events skew into something enchantingly new. The Los Angeles-based harpist recorded her breakout 2016 album, At The Dam, during stops along a road trip across America, letting the serene landscapes of Joshua Tree and Marfa, Texas color her compositions. In 2017, she presented Collected Pieces, a tape compiling sounds from her past life in Philadelphia: odes to the east coast, burning motels, and beach town convenience stores. In 2018, from a restorative station — a redwood barn, nestled in the hills above San Francisco's Golden Gate Bridge — emanates Hundreds of Days, her second full-length LP with Ghostly International. The record sojourns between silences and speech, between microcosmic daily scenes and macrocosmic universal understandings, between being alien in promising new places and feeling torn from old native havens. It's an expansive new chapter in Lattimore's story, and an expression of mystied gratitude. A study in how ordinary components helix together to create an extraordinary world.

Awarded a residency at the Headlands Center for the Arts, Lattimore spent two summer months living with 15 fellow artists — writers, playwrights, musicians, poets, painters, activists, curators — in a cluster of old Victorian military buildings on the Northern Pacic Coast. Days offered solitude, Lattimore set up in a spacious barn, able to arrange her instruments at will. Nights welcomed new perspectives. "Hanging out with a lot of accomplished artists with poetic ways of looking at the world was really inspiring. My heart was in a bit of a tangle after leaving Philadelphia. I was holding onto things instead of moving forward. My time there was a nostalgia detox, a way to press reset in a healthy way. Also breathing in the freshest air in America, straight off of the ocean, felt good."

Throughout the shifting locales there is one consistent companion Lattimore engages: a 47-string Lyon and Healy harp. The instrument wires directly into her psyche. Pitchfork's Marc Masters posits, "she can practically talk through it at this point, she's created a language." The space and stillness of the Headlands afforded Lattimore freedom to her expand her vocabulary, to stretch out and experiment with layers of keyboard, guitar, theremin, and grand piano. Lattimore's voice sweeps beneath the plucks and washes of opener It Feels Like Floating,' enraptured by the winding current, and reappearing in the second minute of the immense "Never Saw Him Again." The track elevates towards a shimmering apex of static and percussion before organ drone yields to signature halcyon utters. As with much of Lattimore's work, the track titles are telling, "Baltic Birch" is a somber windswept march that sways gracefully out of step, a remembrance of a recent trip to Latvia where she was struck by the abandoned resort towns along the Baltic Sea. Hello From The Edge of The Earth' is an earnest reection of Lattimore's love of the natural world, recognizing the thresholds of varying terrains.

The album's fth track borrows its name from Lattimore's favorite line in Denis Johnson's short story Emergency' from Jesus' Son. A character, lost in a blizzard, reassesses a disjointed universe, a clash between curtains of snow and angels descending out of a brilliant blue summer: it isn't an apocalypse, it is a drive-in movie, with stars hovering above the lot, off the screen, in the throes of the Midwestern storm. This mix-up is disorienting and existentially tragic, Lattimore's darkly strummed piece is a melancholic parallel, mimicking Johnson's elegant suture attaching two remarkably discontinuous spaces.

Micro-revelations, not quite as bright as torn skies but nonetheless enlightening, were everyday occurrences during Lattimore's residency. Living small days with small tasks — feeling little dramas within the arcadian universe of a national park — rendered her the sense that disjointed spaces can be interconnected no matter the enormity that divides them. It's in this elastic scale of perception that something as simultaneously simple and intricate as Hundreds of Days can ourish.

- Second solo album for Ghostly, past releases on Thrill Jockey
- Recently toured w/ Sharon Van Etten, Jarvis Cocker, Kurt Vile, Steve Gunn, Julia Holter, Iceage
- Mary Lattimore has been featured on Pitchfork, NPR, The Wire Magazine, and more

Alien Ensemble's trombone man Mathias Goetz caused quite a splash when he released his eponymous debut LP under his Le Millipede moniker back in 2015: The multi-instrumentalist's initial offering was clearly something else, impossible to grasp, a musical vessel beyond genre, beyond style or era, seemingly beyond space and time even, a vessel that carried an almost cosmic kind of song-craft - music with no fixed stamp of origin, though it did somehow feel like an Alien Transistor release. Followed by remix album Mirror Mirror, which comprised reworks by 1115, Protein, LeRoy, Olaf Opal, and Saroos, to name a few, it's now time for album #2: The Sun Has No Money.Let's face it: There's nothing as majestic as the sun. At least not in our world. If it runs out of juice one day, it's game over: The End. Light's out. For everyone. At that point, it wouldn't even matter if you're rich or poor. We're all equal under the sun. Same level. And yeah, this might not be major news, but then again... we're talking about the sun. The sun! Guess it's about time to acknowledge its power and superiority, right In fact, you can feel it on your bicycle: pedaling at night, when it's on duty in other hemispheres, and you're working hard at the dynamo, sweating, you can actually feel how powerful it is. In the end you get off the bike all recharged, a tune on your lips - and somehow feeling like a miniature version of the sun yourself. And whenever you feel like that, that's exactly the right moment to grab a melodica and get to work.Following an initial warm-up round sans electricity, this new album soon begins to glow: Mathias Goetz aka Le Millipede doesn't need pedals, he boosts circulation by single-handedly* playing tons and tons of different instruments - it actually feels like thousands, easily. And thus begins a show that has countless levels to it: There are various sonic illusions... and yet Le Millipede doesn't hide anything: He's also willing to show the inner workings, the actual recording process and everything else. In short: he goes meta. Makes songs about making songs. That's right: why not use all these beautiful means to address the issue of money It's not the sun that casts shadows, all it does is recharge, fuel: growth & thriving, that's the sun's area of responsibility. And yet there came a man whose plan was simple: steal the fruit from your garden, only to sell it right back to you, for money. We can hear the sea gulls crying in the distance, as somebody is throwing breadcrumbs up into the wind that carries their voices...It's not the sun that casts shadows - all it does is radiate light. And yet there came a time when someone blocked those rays of light. Now if you're some kind of Diogenes, you'll simply say, Move at least a little out of the sun.' But if you're a teacher, you'll maybe light up your pipe and use that to lighten up. What matters is that the percussion parts, in this case, resemble some serious musique concréte. The sun doesn't know shadows - all it knows, is itself. And yet somebody entered the picture and built an entire city. A city full of streets, so that houses can cast shadows into these avenues. Plus, there's music in the streets, music originally written inside the walls of said houses.One of those streets is known as the Tin Pan Alley: a place that got its name from a music writer who compared the sound of so many pianos to the banging of tin pans. That sound: that's one side of the road that is this album. Some of these melodies appear to be shadows of earlier tunes, dating back to, say, 1898 or even before that, melodies that were first registered in the Tin Pan Alley publishers' offices back in 1912 or 1917. We actually get to see this Alley at that point in time. We see the ropes, the workings. How things come together, the actual act of creation. Suddenly, we can hear the shadows!
Okay, so one side of this street is America. The US of A. The opposite side: Russia. And smack dab in the middle: Europe. A pothole in the center. All the back-and-forth that occurs between these two poles ultimately depends on the movement of the sun. Night and day, taking turns, commuting in and out of sight. We get to meet Prokofiew's and Scriabin's ghost, among other spirits, reframed and published by Le Millipede's own imaginary label imprint on the historic Tin Pan Alley. Indeed there are moments on this album when Le Millipede seems to be playing Scriabin's clavier a` lumie`res (tastiera per luce), when his performance seems to be based on synesthesia, a wild cross-pollination of colors and sounds. In case you didn't know this: In the States, Prokofiew goes by the name Brian Wilson, and Scriabin's also known as Sun Ra - yet another guy who's usually broke, but gets to spend a lot of time out in the sun. Together, these assorted protagonists ask the people of the Antilles for Mutabor dance-tokens and send postcards to Moondog in Germany, right back into the darkness. On the postcards you can see people dancing the Biguine...Firing foreign fossil fuels from all pipes (Brennelementsteuer!), Le Millipede controls the very center of this hustle and bustle: going as far as to employ some southern Chopped & Screwed styles, he's 100% current and zeitgeisty! Houston, we've got a problem: there's some kind of myriapod, centi- or millipede on the loose! Well, give me another sip of lean, sizzurp, dirty Sprite, and on goes the journey in the Pullman coach. Let's follow the sun! Keep on moving, keep things motorik! Here comes the Trans-Eureka-Express. Cherish the backpacking days! A piercing rhapsody of sound (bohrende Rhapsodie), we'll remember them fondly! And thus things move on, the sun, the days, the earth: rise, set, action, round and round... onwards eternally. The sun: the biggest loop known to mankind. As if it was some kind of sonic Rube Goldberg contraption, time seems to be stretching out while listening to that hmmm. After all: time is a lot (a lot!) more than just money. And yeah, the sun is the real big shot on (or rather: above) Planet Earth. Le Millipede's live line-up also includes Markus & Micha Acher (The Notwist etc.), Nico Sierig (Joasihno), and Manuela Rzytki (G. Rag & die Landlergschwister, Kamerakino etc.).
*sole exception: Evi Keglmaier (Zwirbeldirn, Hochzeitskapelle) plays the viola. Words/sun worship: Pico Be

Silent is the new single by Miruna Boruzescu aka Borusiade from Bucharest. Silent is a suffocated cry. Silent as in silence that is hard to take. Sitting and waiting in silence, while exploding on the inside. Silent as in silence before the storm. An intense track that recalls industrial spaces, hedonism, sweat, sex and disconnection from the outside world. The rattling sound of ghost train passing by, or big reverberated factory machines unleashed. Body music 2017.
The B side features a remix by the project Khidja , also hailing from Bucharest, and is driven by the track's bass synth, a neurotic now school electro rapture take on the original.
Silent will be part of Borusiade's debut album that will be unleashed next year via Co´meme.

Panorama Bar resident Nick Ho¨ppner gets to Work on his second solo album on Ostgut Ton, connecting the territories of House music with the ease of Alt-Pop.
Work as in labor. An axiom that fuels the capitalist system just as the Techno/House scene economy says that one needs to keep oneself busy to make a living. As a musician, things are complicated of course. It's a long way from the romantic idea of creating music simply for the sake of art to becoming a full time musician. Those who have accomplished this feat often find themselves in a professional loop of writing the music, producing it, promoting it (with an info text like this), releasing it and then hopefully selling it. After leaving his full time job as Ostgut Ton's label manager in 2012, Nick Ho¨ppner went fully freelance, focusing on his musically diverse, deep and dynamic DJing in and outside Berghain's Panorama Bar, but more importantly spending more time in the studio. The result was his critically acclaimed debut album Folk (Ostgut Ton, 2015), various 12' releases and remixes, and now his sophomore LP, Work, which, more than ever, lays out his refined production skills and his talent to work the machines until they reveal their inner ghosts: nine new songs that now dodge the dance floor, then fully embrace it.
Work as in body of work. A record is more than the sum of clocked up hours at the studio, but the result of an artistic-creative process. On Work, Ho¨ppner shows his everlasting lust for musical detail, his increasing technical skills and compositional finesse. Work is a very personal, soulful and deep record that breaks through the usual club/dancefloor narrative by documenting Nick's interest for hybrid sounds and combining elements from varying musical genres. Work's lead single 'All By Themselves (My Belle)' is a very atmospheric, intimate and steadily unfurling IDM piece with ethereal synth and vocal pads; on the album it's contrasted by 'Clean Living' with Tram 78, a modern Ho¨ppner club classic: powerful, kick-heavy, muscular, cheerful and uplifting. It's a very personal track resulting from a recent reencounter with an old friend. Having spent countless hours together in Berlin's clubs in ever changing states of mind a decade ago or longer, things have since changed for both towards a more - clean living'. Connecting to this musical vibe 'In My Mind' follows with a slightly darker tone putting emphasis on bassline, percussion and squeaky sound detailing. 'Hole Head' pays tongue-in-cheek homage to Nick's love for UK club music, when a dashing melody of synths and vibraphone is matched with clattering breaks and syncopation. The dubby, mesmerizing 'The Dark Segment' not only impresses with its hypnotic synth figurines, but also by morphing to a shuffling Jazz rhythm towards it's middle part; 'Forced Resonance' uses Oberheim synth brass stabs to dramatic effect; the percussion- and clap-laden 'Fly Your Colours' comes with an irresistible piano melody atop an energetic kick; and finally the album-closing, shuffling but rhythmic, noisy yet bluesy 'Three Is A Charm' featuring the duo Randweg on clarinet, cajo´n and acoustic guitar is a coherent departure heading towards Indie Pop territory. It sees Nick collaborating with acoustic instrumentalists for the first time in his ten-year- spanning Ostgut Ton release catalogue.
Work as in artwork. Staying in line with the Folk album, the visual companion for this record comes from German collage artist Frank Bubenzer. As with the artwork at hand, Bankentsunami, and his other works, Bubenzer cuts up print magazine advertisements and recontextualizes them into new motifs, removing all human depiction from the source material, here as a commentary on the world of business, big money and the banking crisis.
Work as in work it. As a slogan 'work' has always been one of the genre's most utilized paroles, coined and put on wax by pioneers like LNR, Blake Baxter or Steve Poindexter, to name a few. Not only calling for the crowds to get moving on the floor but also to fully express themselves and their unique individuality inside an all embracing environment. A mindset rooted in House Music that has been an integral part of Nick Ho¨ppner's identity as a DJ and producer from the beginning and all through his decade-spanning residency at Panorama Bar. Work it!

We are proud to unveil our next vinyl release of 2017 on Dust Audio.

* Mikal takes his first bow for Dust Audio in the form of 'The Spirited EP'. The break and bass craftsman reigns down an assault of almighty weight for the imprint which holds no barred.

* Off the back of his critically acclaimed 'Wilderness' album on Metalheadz, Mikal continues to seek out the dance floor through his precision target and locks on for a serious assault of the senses.* The EP's title track 'Spirited' see's the sinister intro build up and transform into a bass laden drop. The stepping drums and jungle infused shuffles entwine with the ghost vocal, whilst the modulated bass will move even the harshest drum n bass skeptics. Unrelenting throughout.* The flip sees Mikal spread his considerable studio talent over two further tunes of constant surprise.

'Low Note' wastes no time in getting to the drop before you've had chance to take a breath. A thunderous one note bass underpins the mid ranged reece and stabs whilst the chunky drums compliment the tidy percussion nicely. A haunting vocal then sets off another 16 bars of unclouded rawness.* 'Linear' finishes the EP with aplomb. Synth chords open up into what you might expect to be a lovely liquid-esque style roller... think again! Mikal takes that premise and turns it upside down and inside out before bringing the dirty funk. Keeping in line with the 2 tunes before, this isn't for the faint hearted. Definitely one for the drum & bass purest, who may well be dancing, but will also be taking down mental notes!
* Mikal and Dust Audio continue 2017's release schedule in style...

The Micronaut creates the soundtrack for those moments when the screeching of the subway and the steps on the wet pavement have echoed away into the dark city sky. Those moments when the ghosts of fumes and stop lights haunt the empty streets, when behind glowing windows dreams and urban exit strategies get ready for bed. When everybody is close to each other, but everyone is on his own. When the city comes to a standstill, but the wheels inside the heads of its inhabitants keep spinning. Stefan Streck discovers the musical equivalent for this epic atmosphere somewhere between Bass Music, Electronica and Pop. The cinematic soundscapes of his nocturnal City Blues have a somewhat tragic vibe, which is very noticeable both during the impulsive, passionate live shows of The Micronaut and on 'Forms', his third studio album on Acker Records, distributed through Kompakt. Between moments of deep melancholy and sudden eruptions of blissful euphoria he creates a feverish state of tension.

Jam Money is the shared musical vision of Kevin Cormack and Mathew Fowler. Mathew (Bons) and Kevin (Half Cousin, Harry Deerness) first began collaborating as part of the Blank Tape Spillage Fete, an ongoing collective project of art and music which focuses on the creation and perpetuation of small DIY exhibitions, related events and limited releases that celebrates the hobbyist nature of home recording.

Jam Money revolves around a passion for the simple and sometimes restrictive nature of four-track cassette recording. Using old half-broken guitars, clarinets, charity shop keyboards, toys, family heirlooms, zithers, home-made percussion, and household objects a shared dialogue appears, involving both mark making and musical mishaps, allowing the makers to be carried along as the music finds its own way.

Genre definitions melt away in Jam Money's music as ambient dissolves into lo-fi rock, noise into fragile naive classroom melodies. Creativity beyond easy categorisation.The first recordings titled 'Blowing Stones' were self-released in 2014. The cover and insert artwork for this record featured abstract paintings by the artist Aimée Henderson whose work and process is a great influence on their music. Having played gigs alongside kindred spirits National Bedtime and Plinth, the tail end of 2015 saw the the band travel to Germany to play with the Notwist and Le Millipede for a series of 'Alien Disko' nights organised by Alien Transistor, a label with a shared kinship of both the weird and wonderful.

'A Gathering Kind' is the second album by Jam Money: a journey of sound and colour, subliminal images and narrative. The roots of this collection found Fowler and Cormack using an earthier, more instinctive language, making it a rougher-edged sibling to their other recordings, with parallels to the home-spun worlds of Flaming Tunes, Pumice, Maher Shalal Hash Baz and World Standard. Aimée's artwork features again, both paintings and music forming a collective language of dream-like adventure.

"Poignant and exploratory. Melting together acoustic and electronic elements, the narrative throughout is one of a ghostly world heading for winter. A firm fan favourite Stephen Pastel (The Pastels & Monorail Music) on Blowing Stones.

"Created in question and answer form, their songs exist like little sculptures - wayward and peaceful, sometimes whirring into automatic life under the pair's combined attention."

Remember how badly we wanted to join them and be part of those sea-faring adventures: Jack London’s The Sea-Wolf, classic TV shows based on his novel The Road, on Radu Toduran’s novels... back then, a couple decades ago, the titles of these shows alone were enough to trigger some strong gusts in our hearts, salty squalls perfect for imaginary downwind journeys we dreamed of with billowing sails. We wanted to cruise alongside albatrosses, seagulls, and fellow sailors. Floating high above a three-masted vessel, we watched our own adventures unfold far below, an imagined movie scene complete with a whole crew that worked the rigging, and all the rest. Cutting waves. Amidst the storm and stress of sounds hitting our eardrums far out in the ocean. Combined with the sounds of rotors, of tropics crossed, of marimbas and cabin wood pounded, of strange music spotted in the distance. And even though it was merely for an hour or two that we were rescued by that seal-hunting ship “Ghost,” as Jack London had it, plus, even worse, often found ourselves surrounded by villains: it was a great escape, for we’d successfully set sails – to new and exciting places.

Both around their own Weilheim shores and elsewhere, brothers Markus and Micha Acher have launched various musical vessels, bands and free-floating constellations over the past three decades – and yet: amid all these other speedboats and unlikely sonic barges, The Notwist has always remained the mother ship. This new album documents the latest live incarnation of this very band, which also features Andi Haberl, Max Punktezahl, Karl Ivar Refseth, and Cico Beck. Recorded on December 16, 2015 on the second of three consecutive, sold-out nights at UT Connewitz in Leipzig, Germany, "Superheroes, Ghost-Villains & Stuff" indeed feels like a first-hand live experience caught on triple vinyl. That’s why it’s the definitive album of The Notwist’s career.

Although there is one song that points to the early, “louder years” of The Notwist – “One Dark Love Poem” off the album Nook –, the rest of the night’s set sees the band perform all the major hits off Neon Golden, The Devil, You + Me, and Close To The Glass. However, these are different, organically enhanced versions, new interpretations and combinations that feel much more alive; thanks to Olaf Opal’s incredible mix, they sometimes even outshine the original studio recordings. Listening to "Superheroes, Ghost-Villains & Stuff" feels like watching these songs evolve and change, moving from one frame to the next, much like a baroque triptych.

What starts out like ‘wimmelbook’ imagery, the music soon folds and unfolds like a Moebius strip: Sans bottom or top, sans inside or outside, the inside becomes the outside and vice versa. It’s all about sonic interconnection, about music as entanglement, music as reconciliation. The rather majestic, cinematic (indie) pop and experimental, kraut- infused jazz, the spirit of the enlightenment and baroque playfulness, the traces of modernism and minimal music, dub leanings, hip-hop lessons, and even hints of house music: here is where they all come together, reconciled in a sound that’s both melancholy and romantic. And ultimately, the spirit of these songs is set free – and the band has released itself, is free at last.

As for the album title, it’s lifted from the song “Kong,” and encapsulates Markus Acher’s motto. Throughout the track, the water theme first appears as a dangerous threat: a force that’s strong enough to wash away an entire house; and yet the fluid state keeps transforming and eventually releases that sense of threat into something rather hopeful, a new musical beginning, a melodic departure that ultimately leads to euphoria and a renewed spirit of adventure. These are the strong gusts mentioned above, it’s the spirit of discovery, the urge to set sail together. The crew’s back at it, working the instruments, the rigging, with sails a- billow, launching the next voyage of discovery, assuming the East in the West and vice versa. And thus the adventure saga continues.

Pico Be (Das Weiße Pferd)

The stage is set from minute one on Clay Wilson's new 4-track EP, "Skandha," his second release for The Bunker New York.
The eponymous first track begins with a familiar techno throb, but is quickly overcome by a blooming swirl of coruscating synthesizer pulses that seem to gather inside the listener's head, a phenomenon Wilson seems particularly interested in: "I've never been into really straightforward club techno that works in neat 8- and 16-bar sequences," he says. "I'm always looking for things that have forward momentum, ways to escape that 'block-y,' downbeat-centric feeling that you find in so much contemporary techno. For me, it's the drone—what's going on in the background—that serves to hold my interest."

Nowhere is this more apparent than on the record's second track, "Cataleptic." The meat of the track is its tightly-wound techno core built from insistent, hypnotic percussion, but it's what's happening in the background that keeps you coming back for more: The sound of a babbling brook and a plaintive, meandering bird call ("the only actual recorded animal sounds on the record," notes Wilson) gently give way to the tintinnabulation of a distant bell, whose meditative timbre brings to mind a Tibetan singing bowl. It turns out that the naturalistic, organic sounds in many of Wilson's tracks are often just that: "I make field recordings all the time, actually—on my phone," he says. "I've found field recordings have been a great way to pull things along, never repeating themselves, but also never being so upfront as to draw your attention away from the synths and drums."

That's a key point, and make no mistake—for all the flora and fauna lurking in the background of Wilson's productions, they're designed for the dancefloor through and through. "Feres," the EP's third track, slows down the pace a little bit, keeping time with a static kick-hat pattern while chunky, stepped percussion laid on top makes the track feel remarkably dynamic. The final cut, "Pict," seems to slowly unfurl like flowers at dawn, while a ghostly vocal sample (or merely something approaching it) repeats itself underneath it all.

While at times the drawn-out shimmering tones in Wilson's work may recall modern minimalism, "getting into techno, and more specifically techno production, was kind of a way for me to get away from (formal, classical musical) training," he recalls. "I had been headed down an open-minded, anything-goes path with a compositionally-geared approach, and ... all those paths led to techno." And for that, we're glad.