Suche:the l bit

Without a brutal evaluation of their own becoming, TV Priest might have never made their second album. Heralded as the next big thing in post-punk, they were established as a bolshy, sharp-witted outfit, the kind that starts movements with their political ire. There was of course truth in that, but it was a suit that quickly felt heavy on its wearer's shoulders, leaving little room for true vulnerability. "A lot of it did feel like I was being really careful and a bit at arm's length," says vocalist Charlie Drinkwater. "I think maybe I was not fully aware of the role I was taking. I had to take a step back and realize that what we were presenting was quite far away from the opinion of myself that I had. Now, I just want to be honest." Having made music together since their teenage years, the London four-piece piqued press attention in late 2019 with their first gig as a newly solidified group, a raucous outing in the warehouse district of Hackney Wick. Debut single "House of York" followed with a blistering critique of monarchist patriotism, and they were signed to Sub Pop for their debut album. When Uppers arrived in the height of a global pandemic, it reaped praise from critics and fans alike for its "dystopian doublespeak," but the band - Drinkwater, guitarist Alex Sprogis, producer, bass and keys player Nic Bueth and drummer Ed Kelland - were at home like the rest of us, drinking cups of tea and marking time via government-sanctioned daily exercise. As such, the personal and professional landmark of its release felt "both colossal and minuscule" dampened by the inability to share it live. "It was a real gratification and really cathartic, but on the other hand, it was really strange, and not great for my mental health" admits Drinkwater. "I wasn't prepared, and I hadn't necessarily expected it to reach as many people as it did." As such, My Other People maintains a strong sense of earth-rooted emotion, taking advantage of the opportunity to physically connect. Using "Saintless" (the closing song from Uppers) as something of a starting point, Drinkwater set about crafting lyrics that allowed him to articulate a deeper sense of personal truth, using music as a vessel to communicate with his bandmates about his depleting mental health. "Speaking very candidly, it was written at a time and a place where I was not, I would say, particularly well," he says. "There was a lot of things that had happened to myself and my family that were quite troubling moments.Despite that I do think the record has our most hopeful moments too; a lot of me trying to set myself reminders for living, just everyday sentiments to try and get myself out of the space I was in." "It was a bit of a moment for all of us where we realised that we can make something that, to us at least, feels truly beautiful," agrees Bueth. "Brutality and frustration are only a part of that puzzle, and despite a lot of us feeling quite disconnected at the time, overwhelmingly beautiful things were also still happening." This tension between existential fear born from the constant uncertainties of life, and an affirmative, cathartic urge to seize the moment, is central to My Other People, a record that heals by providing space for recognition, a ground zero in which you're welcome to stay awhile but which ultimately only leads up and out. For TV Priest, it is a follow-up that feels truly, properly them; free of bravado, unnecessary bluster or any audience pressure to commit solely to their original sound.

Without a brutal evaluation of their own becoming, TV Priest might have never made their second album. Heralded as the next big thing in post-punk, they were established as a bolshy, sharp-witted outfit, the kind that starts movements with their political ire. There was of course truth in that, but it was a suit that quickly felt heavy on its wearer's shoulders, leaving little room for true vulnerability. "A lot of it did feel like I was being really careful and a bit at arm's length," says vocalist Charlie Drinkwater. "I think maybe I was not fully aware of the role I was taking. I had to take a step back and realize that what we were presenting was quite far away from the opinion of myself that I had. Now, I just want to be honest." Having made music together since their teenage years, the London four-piece piqued press attention in late 2019 with their first gig as a newly solidified group, a raucous outing in the warehouse district of Hackney Wick. Debut single "House of York" followed with a blistering critique of monarchist patriotism, and they were signed to Sub Pop for their debut album. When Uppers arrived in the height of a global pandemic, it reaped praise from critics and fans alike for its "dystopian doublespeak," but the band - Drinkwater, guitarist Alex Sprogis, producer, bass and keys player Nic Bueth and drummer Ed Kelland - were at home like the rest of us, drinking cups of tea and marking time via government-sanctioned daily exercise. As such, the personal and professional landmark of its release felt "both colossal and minuscule" dampened by the inability to share it live. "It was a real gratification and really cathartic, but on the other hand, it was really strange, and not great for my mental health" admits Drinkwater. "I wasn't prepared, and I hadn't necessarily expected it to reach as many people as it did." As such, My Other People maintains a strong sense of earth-rooted emotion, taking advantage of the opportunity to physically connect. Using "Saintless" (the closing song from Uppers) as something of a starting point, Drinkwater set about crafting lyrics that allowed him to articulate a deeper sense of personal truth, using music as a vessel to communicate with his bandmates about his depleting mental health. "Speaking very candidly, it was written at a time and a place where I was not, I would say, particularly well," he says. "There was a lot of things that had happened to myself and my family that were quite troubling moments.Despite that I do think the record has our most hopeful moments too; a lot of me trying to set myself reminders for living, just everyday sentiments to try and get myself out of the space I was in." "It was a bit of a moment for all of us where we realised that we can make something that, to us at least, feels truly beautiful," agrees Bueth. "Brutality and frustration are only a part of that puzzle, and despite a lot of us feeling quite disconnected at the time, overwhelmingly beautiful things were also still happening." This tension between existential fear born from the constant uncertainties of life, and an affirmative, cathartic urge to seize the moment, is central to My Other People, a record that heals by providing space for recognition, a ground zero in which you're welcome to stay awhile but which ultimately only leads up and out. For TV Priest, it is a follow-up that feels truly, properly them; free of bravado, unnecessary bluster or any audience pressure to commit solely to their original sound.

Released for the first time on vinyl, Queen’s compilation ‘The Platinum Collection’, featuring all three of their Greatest Hits albums, shows their unrivalled track record of chart-topping, award-winning, record-breaking rock and pop classics. June 17th will see the limited edition 6LP colour vinyl set released in a slipcase with brand new artwork. Each piece of vinyl will be a different colour and come in its own individually designed sleeve. The set also comes with an exclusive 24-page 12″ photo booklet. LIMITED EDITION

AUF TOGO is the long-time collaboration of Sasa Crnobrnja
(from In Flagranti and Mytron & Ofofo) and Clement Cachot-Coulom
(from The Fabulous Penetrators and Big Girls).

After multiple singles and EPs on Leng Records and SaS Recordings, including two collaborative EPs with the tentacular outfit Becker & Mukai, acclaimed by fans and DJs alike, most of their time has been spent writing, recording and bringing to life the 8 amazing tracks that form their debut album “Movements”.

“Movements” follows in the steps of Auf Togo’s previous releases and won’t disappoint the early fans, but it also offers a completely new proposition. Their signature blend of slamming percussion, driving bass lines, psychedelic guitar hooks, fat analogue synths are expertly mixed with new musical ventures across the tracks: from the louche Hawaiian jazz of Along The Dotted Line to the psych-funk of Pan Con Tomate, the electronic wanderings of Mexico to the cinematic intensity of Radical Departures.

The result is a spell-binding summer album, one to listen to on a coastline somewhere under the Mediterranean sun, and one that is not afraid to wear its many influences on its sleeve, from 70s psych-rock to Balearic Beat, Space Disco and Afro Beat. The scope of “Movements” is wide and proves a captivating and gratifying listen.
Debut album from supergroup with members of In Flagranti and Mytron & Ofofo Pressed on 12” vinyl with artwork drawn and designed by Award winning animator Erica Russell UK/EU marketing campaign led by Neighborhood and specialist press/DJ by Your Army, with previous support from Mixmag, Trax, Ransom Note, NTS, Bill
Brewster, Andrew Weatherall and more.

Tidal Waves Music now proudly presents: the official reissue of this fantastic album, back available on vinyl for the first time since 1987. Available as a deluxe 180g 2XLP set, with TWO bonus tracks from the same session that were not featured on the original vinyl release. Pharoah `Farrell' Sanders (born 1940) is a leading figure in the world of jazz and one of the last living legends with connections to players like Sun Ra and John Coltrane. His tenor saxophone playing has earned him royal status amongst free jazz players, critics and collectors. On "Africa" from 1987 Sanders plays with an all-star line-up consisting of Idris Muhammad, John Hicks and Curtis Lundy. Muhammad brings his trademark tight sense of timekeeping, but with a looseness that we love - and Lundy's warm soulful bass does more than enough to give the set a sound bottom- all this while Hick's free lyrical piano works nicely with Sander's spiritual horn. The brilliant `Africa sessions' features the quartet at their best...soulful but also searching for a strong groove at the same time. The music here is less ornamented than on most of Sanders' studio recordings, where sextets, septets or larger lineups have been the norm, but this brilliant effort here remains every bit as compelling. Pharoah and his crew play with the utmost sensitivity and give a demonstration that shows us the full extent of their skills.

D'Cruze, the legendary DnB producer synonymous with some of Suburban Base's biggest tracks such as 'Lonely' and 'Watch Out' now sees some of his unreleased productions finally getting a much sought-after release.

The Hidden Trax EP's theme comes from concept that the D'Cruze limited US only edition album contained tracks that were only discovered if you allowed that album to play on beyond what was supposed to be the last song, after a gap of silence no track ID and not listed on the track titles. This is where you’d find 'Bittersweet' pt 2 as a hidden track on the CD. This was Bittersweet’s only ever appearance having never been released in the UK and never released on vinyl or digitally worldwide.

The lush rolling workout of ‘Hardstep' is probably our most requested track that has never had a vinyl release having only briefly appeared on the very limited CD only ‘Subbase Sampler’, demand for a vinyl pressing of this has been called for since 1996.
Another beautiful hidden gem 'Sublime State' from 1995 wouldn’t be known to our UK audience as it’s an exclusive tune to the US only CD release that has never seen a UK or vinyl release.

Rounded off with the incredibly beautiful 'Meus Precious Filius', an unheard unreleased D’Cruze track that was considered a 'lost DAT' until recently surfaced. We are now able to bring this to the world as an epic slice of fresh music from D’Cruze.

The EP is presented on blue and black splattered vinyl making every single piece uniquely different. Original custom sleeve artwork is provided by Suburban Base legendary artist Dave Nodz in his iconic graffiti influenced style.

These are already high demand tracks all brought together for a fantastic value 4 track EP, so grab yourself a piece of future history now whilst we have these available for a limited time.

2001: Guillaume Atlan is nominated with 'Starlight' at the MTV Awards in the best French artists category. 20 years later, the first generation French Touch (Modjo, Demon, Cassius, Stardust, Etienne de Crécy etc.) is almost gone. Among the few still active, The Supermen Lovers, who will release his fourth studio album, 'Body Double', end of May.

A reference to Brian de Palma's film and its perfect plastic, the disc bears witness to the many artistic encounters and tumults of love that feed Guillaume during his trip to Kyiv from 2018 to 2020. Love can move mountains but can also destroy a man. Demons and emotions will make him go back to the studios, firstly in Kyiv, which reminds him of Paris in the 90s : strong energy, a thirst for discovery, creation and pure spontaneity. Straddling 2 musical bodies, the heart of Body Double balances between vocal electro-disco and clubbing, without forgetting this analog/digital jumble dear to Guillaume. He is an electro producer, a DJ, but above all a multi-instrumentalist. Machines in contact with “real” instruments…

Hey Doll Baby is a newly remastered 17-track compilation that collects some of the lesser-known, buried treasures in the Everly Brothers’ rich catalog with songs assembled by Adria Petty, Tom Petty’s daughter, who worked closely with both Everly families on the project, with help from Phil’s widow Patti and son Jason, who provided track-by-track commentary for the liner notes, as well as Don Everly, prior to his passing last summer, and his widow Adela. Hey Doll Baby holds the bittersweet distinction of being the final project Don worked on.
This is not a “Greatest Hits” package. While it includes some hits (e.g.: “Cathy’s Clown” – their biggest selling single), the objective of this compilation is to highlight many of the lesser-known songs that are equally as good as their well-known hits.

Strut present an exclusive collaboration between two jazz greats, Bennie Maupin and Adam Rudolph, on 'Symphonic Tone Poem For Brother Yusef', originally commissioned by the Angel City Jazz festival in Claremont, to mark the late, great Yusef Lateef's 100th birthday on 9th October, 2020. The album weaves a magical, meditative path across five movements, combining electronics, saxophone, voices and Rudolph's wide palette of percussion from hand drums to thumb pianos and gongs. Both artists bring unparalleled experience to the project. Detroit's Bennie Maupin is best known for his work with Miles Davis on Bitches Brew, Herbie Hancock and The Headhunters and Eddie Henderson. Chicago percussionist Adam Rudolph was Yusef Lateef's percussionist for 20 years and has worked with many other jazz luminaries including Pharoah Sanders, Wadada Leo Smith and Don Cherry. His work with Mandingo Griot Society during the '70s and '80s and, more recently, leading Hu Vibrational and Go Organic Orchestra constantly break new ground in the use and context of percussion.

For more than twelve years, Morphology have been re-writing the rules of electronics. Michael Diekmann and Matti Turunen have melted electro, IDM and techno into their own unique sound. To celebrate their achievements, FireScope has sifted through the impressive discography of this Finnish pairing to bring long out of print tracks to a life.

Twelve 1 collects music released between 2009 and 2016, a dozen works that span labels like Abstract Forms, AC Records, Cultivated Electronics, diametric., Semantica, Stilleben and Vortex Traks. Opening with the cold love affair of “Manmade Woman,” this collection brings together frosted floor funk, cerebral armchair electronics and a quality of composition that only Morphology can provide. Embedded in the album are outposts of electro menace, tracks with that extra bit of bite such as “Dementia” and “Dalek Invasion. Deep and thought-provoking pieces abound, such as the otherworldly dreamscapes of “Magellan Probe” and “Moebius Strip” which were first heard on Arne Weinberg’s diametric. An understated balance permeates the record, broad concepts are interwoven with subtle shifts to bring a timeless quality to pieces like “Spacetime Interval”, “Europa” and “Plankton.” A perfect expression of over a decade of work.

Not only does this double LP gather rare tracks never before heard together, but also each piece has been lovingly remastered to breath new life into these wonderful works. Twelve 1 celebrates the music of Morphology in all its glory, two masters of modern electronic music who continue to re-define and re-design genres.

Alex the Fairy is an artist based in Berlin producing music with an emphasis on electronic and concrete methods. Alex the Fairy is also part of the 3Ddancer trio, a live act focusing on improvisation and expression using electronics.

Alex The Fairy writes: "I had sent The Tapeworm tracks before, but I was being difficult so was asked to send a new bunch, with a deadline. I sent the new bunch, a fairly odd collection expecting perhaps some of them to be combined with the older stuff but not seeing any coherence in them. I figured The Tapeworm would find at least something. To my surprise the suggestion that came back was exclusively the tracks I had sent the second time, and, re-listening through the tracks in this new order after returning from a Christmas dinner lying on the floor of my nephews bedroom gave them a completely new context. Despite them being quite varied in terms of age (one had been flung together a few days earlier on the train while another was approaching Schulreife) they seemed to meld together in such a way that I hardly recognised them…

Last year my grandmother died. My last grandparent. I had put off seeing her during corona, as I thought it best not to put her at risk and had almost left to visit her days before her death but had delayed my departure because of a medical appointment. My failure to her weighs heavy on my mind - fates grimacing grin: too little, too late. The approaching march of death, one generation closer was a confrontation I wasn't prepared for.

While clearing out her flat in the following weeks I had kept some of my grandfathers cassettes, live recordings of jazz greats, Pink Floyd, Sade and some classical among them, none originals, several presumably from the radio e.g. a church organ rendition of Bach. At the time I wasn't sure why I was hanging on to them, other than the urge to hoard, and that it felt wrong not at least to keep some. Half a year later, half way through mixing this cassette, suffering from my first bout of COVID, I had the insatiable urge to hook up the cassette player I had received from my grandfather after his death around nineteen years earlier and had been dragging along with me since. I stuck a cassette in only to immediately return to the safety of my covers. I began to work my way into what I had saved, hearing the fruits of my grandfathers labour decades before. It felt like quite an intimate interaction with someone I had long lost contact to/was long gone. Quite a wonderful thing, these time traveling cassettes.

I returned to the tracks to mix them shortly before my corona/cassette experience, with a new mixing console at hand. I had been looking for one for several years, but nothing had ever clicked, until I found this old broadcast desk 30 minutes from my place (it also coincided with a payment from a job the sum of which matched the price identically… fates return). Installing became a massive hassle and I doubted my decision continuously, but the further it was implemented the more it made sense. The first track I recorded with the mixer is on this cassette. Shortly before the mixing I was introduced to an Effektgerät by a friend, Rapha. Another good friend Art lent me their one, and I ended up using copious amounts of it throughout mixing, alongside my usual space creators. All the tracks on this release were mixed again on this mixer and are in a sense all a bit of a dub of the originals. I wouldn't have worked this way without the mixer, and the effect gave me a dimension I hadn't had before, so, from a technical perspective, the mixer and this effect define this release, giving it a coherence, at least for me. Emotionally of course the chaos and turbulence of the preceding year and my newfound appreciation for the medium give it a meaning I will struggle to formulate." – Alex The Fairy, Berlin, 9 May 2022

After making waves and receiving coverage from a wide range of outlets such as Complex and Coindesk for being the first artist in history to accept a $1M advance in Bitcoin, Money Man drops off the aptly titled crypto-inspired album, Blockchain. The album coincides with the release of his first NFT which saw fans clamoring to snatch up the limited amount of tokens available to mint within a matter of days. Money Man flexes his knowledge of cryptocurrency and financial gains across 13 tracks, enlisting help from Moneybagg Yo, Jackboy, & Yung Bleu as we see his star power headed to the moon.

"bit by bit" is the first full-length release from Toronto-based singer-songwriter Evan J Cartwright. This self produced album from the go-to drummer/collaborator (The Weather Station, U.S. Girls, Brodie West) presents a highly singular songwriting vision that combines existential lyrics with masterful musicianship. Steeped in jazz melodicism, Cartwright’s trumpet-like phrasing mixed with contemporary composition presents an eclectic art song performed by an artist that could perhaps be best described as a post-modern Chet Baker. Deep poetic observations on love and time paint an affecting picture of an artist reflecting on life’s universal truths. Visual in nature, "bit by bit" places its audience within a world of musical leitmotifs extracted from field recordings of bells and birdsong. Collected during years of touring, these sounds evoke extant spaces beyond that which the music inhabits. The use of this source material in its unaltered form evokes the feeling of a technicolour European film at one moment and then, as the extrapolated melodies are meticulously translated into electronic tone bank sequences, a modernist setting the next. One carillon melody is used as the basis for a wealth of the album’s musical material before its origin is finally revealed by the chiming of bells in the last seconds of the album. The result is a fragment of space between the constructed world of the musical compositions and the candid world of documentation, inviting the listener to ponder whether those two worlds are distinct or whether the songs and music are not simply “field recordings” themselves. Throughout "bit by bit" Cartwright drops staggering revelations hiding in plain prose that often involve the contemplation of time. In I Don’t Know he states “if I only trusted time / then I would wish it all away” and nearing the album’s end he opens impossibly blue with the phrase “the impossible truth of time”, playfully inserting a pregnant pause before the word time. A drummer’s fixation, to be certain, the album’s recurring theme of time is eclipsed only by Cartwright’s contemplation of human relationships. Here he elaborates on some of the album’s subjects: “Many of the lyrics circle, and try to give a name to the illegible space between human beings. “i DON’t know” celebrates the fact that we will never truly understand what love is. Its message is one of assurance. It says that we can never really touch love, and that is ok. “and you’ve got nobuddy” refers to life’s great tragedy: that we are unable to read each others’ experiences, and in reaction to this, we separate ourselves.” The entirety of "bit by bit" is a continuous work. There is seldom a clear demarcation of where one piece ends and another begins and when this does occur, it is done crudely, as if someone is flipping through a series of broadcasted channels. At times words are sliced right out of their lines and replaced by pure tones. This is both a comical interpretation of censorship and a reminder that there are things in life that will forever remain unseen and illegible. In fact, this statement lies at the centre of the LP and although hidden beauty does reveal itself through repeated listenings, "bit by bit’s" eccentric world remains just out of reach — an imaginary second story room viewed from a crowded city street.

Having initially met more than a decade ago at a local community radio station, sometimes doing guest slots on each other’s live, improvised noise shows, Cormac Culkeen and Dave Grenon knew they had a mutual interest in working with sonic textures. They listened to each other’s bands for a handful of years, and in 2017, “made good on a threat” that they’d been making for quite a long time: to start a band. At Cormac’s gentle but clear urging—declaring that they’d gone ahead and booked a space in which to record a video—the two wrote their first song, “Sebaldus,” an ambitious 12-minute trip, which also serves as the fireworks finale to their self-titled debut album. With surges of pathos that smooth out into something more soothing in turn, Cormac goes: “The hunter, you’ve seen him / The archer, his arrows are strong / And hunger, you’ve known her / I know the winter is long.” The track is as much about enduring a Canadian winter as it is about the eponymous 8th century hermit, shot through with sublimated desire. As Cormac put it, Joyful Joyful’s songs are “a little bit outside of time.” But while the lyrics beg close, oblique reading unto themselves, there’s also a distinct sense that they’re only one of many more ways that the duo shapes sound. Cormac, whose voice is like a sea with irregular tides, lights up about an idea in traditional sean-nós Irish music that songs already exist and are out there; it’s up to the singer to become the conduit. This belief in music as something to be channelled, and something more than sound, resonates with the singer’s fundamentalist religious past. To paraphrase: lots of group singing, harmonies, no instrumentation, totally unmediated, no priest, congregational—not choral, not a performance, not about talent, the spirit moves through people. “Of course that informs how I think about singing,” Cormac says. So, when they were exiled from the church because of their queerness, they took the music with them, dislocating it from its dogmatic bounds but not from its transcendent potential. This record might be thought of, then, as a kind of queering of sacred, devotional traditions—or at the very least, a space where all of these things can be held at once. Perhaps perceivable by some as contradictions, these intersecting influences create the conditions for an incredibly singular sound. Dave is steady and exploratory in his handling of this multiplicity, arranging sounds as they’re revealed, corralling them, coaxing them into form. “Because Dave is there,” Cormac says, “I get to sing three times higher, and three times lower, and faster, and backwards, and all of these sounds! That are there. They’re all there.” When asked about early musical memories, Cormac recalled an immediate fascination with harmony: from demanding that the first person they ever heard singing it explain what they were doing, to always (still, to this day) singing in harmony with their twin sister around the house, to being part of a children’s choir that sang soprano in Handel’s Messiah—not realizing until they entered the room with all the other ranges that their learned melody was but one part of the whole. Just as tellingly, Dave reflects on his early attraction to “abstraction and becoming abstract,” describing childhood afternoons messing with microphone and speaker feedback loops, producing long, enduring sounds with almost undetectable variations. In a way unique to the coalescing of these two listeners, notions of harmony are central to their output. Dave samples field recordings, old keyboards and synths, and vocal drones, running the live singing through four or five parallel effects chains, sampling and treating everything again in the moment. “Another way to put it is that Cormac’s voice comes into the board and then comes back out shifted, delayed, and shattered; Cormac and I hear it, live with it, and respond,” Dave says. This work is contingent not only on a deep intuition (neither of them read sheet music) of polyphony and due proportion (something St Thomas Aquinas famously listed as an attribute of beauty) but also on their connection to each other and ability to read subtle cues. Dave says they’d hold each other’s hands while performing if it was more convenient to do so, riffing on something else Cormac mentioned about traditional Irish singing: that someone would always hold the singer’s hand, for fear that without a tether to the ground they might find themselves utterly lost, unsure how to return. Joyful Joyful doesn’t shy away from offering such experiences of departure; they’re willing to unsettle their audiences because they themselves are unsettled. Their shared penchant for spooky, heavy music, and self-described “omnivorous” listening practices equip them with an array of sonic concepts that support this effort; Diamanda Galás, The Rankin Family, Pan Sonic, Pauline Oliveros, Keith Fullerton Whitman, Yma Sumac, and Catholic hymnody were just a few that came up. Observing their audience gives them insight about the effect of each song—something they considered while arranging the album. Its arc is marked by soft, sometimes sudden oscillations between cacophony and euphony, day and night (listen for insects), and from sexual, visceral entanglements to more ephemeral, celestial ones. Front to back, it arouses expansion, unraveling. Of lightning, Vicki Kirby writes: “quite curious initiation rites precede these electrical encounters. An intriguing communication, a sort of stuttering chatter between the ground and the sky, appears to anticipate the actual stroke.” By all accounts, something similar seems to happen at Joyful Joyful shows, between those on the stage and those off it, between what’s earthly and what’s beyond. “A lightning bolt is not a straightforward resolution of the buildup of a charge difference between the earth and a cloud … there is, as it were, some kind of nonlocal communication effected between the two,” writes Karen Barad, extrapolating on Kirby’s thought. Cormac acknowledges that while they and Dave play a role in this mysterious charge that comes about, they’re not solely responsible. However ineffable it may be, it’s undoubtedly a form of communion—and a sensuously shocking one at that

The clandescent Federico Sutera and Laurent Schmidhäusler form the insidious duo Rotkeller, known for their excursions into ponderous and maundering interpretations of electronic music. Their last release on Thrènes was an experimental and perplexing delight that perpetuated their virtuosity. The Swiss pair has returned to release a pressing technoid sound on the Thrènes imprint entitled Antimatter.

The project kicks off the track 'Antimatter'. It has distinctive and emphatic patterned percussions and a wandering pad that wistfully saunders in and out. There are clever uses of claps, crisp hats and insisted clicks. The track lays the foundation of the sound to expect from the EP with comprehensive yet wonderous beats.

'DipK' follows the opening track, which has a bit more body and sways. It was made for the waning hours of a club when it might be getting bright outside, but the crowd doesn't want to leave. It has a captivating synth that runs throughout and an infectious bassline; the sound allows the mind to roam free but rhythmic drums, hits and snares make the body move.

Midway through is the Kangding Ray remix of 'Tetra4'. The French-born but Berlin-based artist is known for his mastery in blurring the lines between techno and experimental, and this track is a testament to his talents. The cut has a classic underground club feel as it simply keeps up the tempo. The oscillating synth is compounded with spacy fluttering stabs with a kick drum that adds resounding velocity to the track.

The penultimate track, 'Skpp Skpp', features B.Skupin. It has an enchanting heavy breath prominent throughout the cut, accompanied by ethereal choir chants and a deep repetitive voice before being replaced by a siren-like synth. The beats fluctuate by dropping in and out, enhanced by the catalyst of deep drums and luring drops.

The final cut is the original mix of 'Tetra4', which keeps the same modus operandi of the remix. The telling differences come in the pensive drops and ability to slow tempo momentarily with hypnotic synths and drifting rhythms.

Rarely do two types of music meet on a level where they threaten to cancel each other out - let alone create something even more meaningful in their mutual vanishing. But the music created within the seminal Murder Ballads (Drift) by Martyn Bates (Eyeless in Gaza, & parallel solo career) and Mick Harris (Napalm Death, Lull, Painkiller, Scorn) creates just such a world. Murder Ballads (Drift) evolves Martyn Bates vocalisations / storytelling song-voices, by turns expressed as labyrinthine layers, calls and responses, muted and distant echoes, sung whispers and counter-melodies, ultimately resulting in a mesmeric conversation of musical inferences and correspondences. Murder Ballads (Drift) created the post-isolationist frame of reference, innovating and extemporising into a truly original dazzlingly unique form.

Mick Harris traffics in the isolationist ambience of Lull, while Martyn Bates is the emotive voice of literate cult-pop duo Eyeless in Gaza. The unlikely pair - one given to terminally frigid drone, the other to impassioned, bittersweet voicings - finds common ground in folk music's most macabre tradition, the murder ballad. These ghoulish parables are awash in blood and tears, the strands of love, hate, birth, death, sin, and salvation entwined within like the roots of an ancient tree. Mothers callously kill their children; suitors slay their maidens without remorse; and fate exacts its cruel price from all.

The archaic murder ballads that leak from Bates' vocal cords are intensely sad and carnal. They tend to leap off cliffs of hollow effects or drone darkly, offering neither a robust delivery nor an element of irony to take the edge off. The archetypal characters that live and die in them give life's full tragedy back to Harris' electronically numbed "post-isolationist" dreaming.

Drift (originally released in 1994) plays out an unbreakable and timeless cycle of bloody folklore (people) and hypnotic soundscapes (the god who watches). The effect is chilling yet engrossing. Where most ambient music has barely enough courage to ring the doorbell and run, Murder Ballads slips through the cracks of the unconscious and does its work with remarkable ease.

All the more reason to listen thoughtfully.

In 2021 - re-emerging nearly twenty years after its initial inception, and first time on vinyl - somewhat surprisingly, Murder Ballads (Drift) still remains/exists in an area overlooked by other artists, an area that truly still remains the sole province of M.J. Harris / Martyn Bates.

Rarely do two types of music meet on a level where they threaten to cancel each other out - let alone create something even more meaningful in their mutual vanishing. But the music created within the seminal Murder Ballads (Drift) by Martyn Bates (Eyeless in Gaza, & parallel solo career) and Mick Harris (Napalm Death, Lull, Painkiller, Scorn) creates just such a world. Murder Ballads (Drift) evolves Martyn Bates vocalisations / storytelling song-voices, by turns expressed as labyrinthine layers, calls and responses, muted and distant echoes, sung whispers and counter-melodies, ultimately resulting in a mesmeric conversation of musical inferences and correspondences. Murder Ballads (Drift) created the post-isolationist frame of reference, innovating and extemporising into a truly original dazzlingly unique form.

Mick Harris traffics in the isolationist ambience of Lull, while Martyn Bates is the emotive voice of literate cult-pop duo Eyeless in Gaza. The unlikely pair - one given to terminally frigid drone, the other to impassioned, bittersweet voicings - finds common ground in folk music's most macabre tradition, the murder ballad. These ghoulish parables are awash in blood and tears, the strands of love, hate, birth, death, sin, and salvation entwined within like the roots of an ancient tree. Mothers callously kill their children; suitors slay their maidens without remorse; and fate exacts its cruel price from all.

The archaic murder ballads that leak from Bates' vocal cords are intensely sad and carnal. They tend to leap off cliffs of hollow effects or drone darkly, offering neither a robust delivery nor an element of irony to take the edge off. The archetypal characters that live and die in them give life's full tragedy back to Harris' electronically numbed "post-isolationist" dreaming.

Passages (originally released in 1997) plays out an unbreakable and timeless cycle of bloody folklore (people) and hypnotic soundscapes (the god who watches). The effect is chilling yet engrossing. Where most ambient music has barely enough courage to ring the doorbell and run, Murder Ballads slips through the cracks of the unconscious and does its work with remarkable ease.

140g Black vinyl LP – Printed inner sleeve - Sealed plastic sleeve

In Trux We Pux is an editorial project organized by the Porto based label and collective Favela Discos. Focusing on the city’s thriving experimental and improvised music scene, it sets out to portrait in a series of four volumes some of the characteristic sounds and collaborative practices that have been in development in Porto during the last few years.

In Trux We Pux 01, the first record of the collection, is focused on the electronic side of the eclectic but characteristic experimental and improvised scene in Porto, and contains a selection of 23 musicians that have been developing their own take on whatever niche genre they dwell in. Among the list of musicians are Filipe Silva (HHY & The Macumbas), Crónica Electrónica’s heads @c, ocp, coletivo vandalismo and several others that populate a thriving scene that spans a wide gamut of sounds, from delicate to abrasive.

As the tracks themselves, the different approaches to composition and production add to this compilation’s schizophrenia. The first side of the record offers us a spacious and abstract scenery, starting with a collage of field recordings, banjos, and fans, narrated by google translate’s voice. The following two tracks flow along the granular tide of ambient spaces and atmospheres slowing down a bit before the second side turns around 180º and heads towards more rhythmic fields.

Coletivo vandalismo & querido lider present us with their exploration of half balearic, half german-synth-music pulsing away at the beat of broken down dancehallish drums and reggae breaks. Challenger & Lorr No’s track is a trainwreck heading down a break driven jungle that lead us to the album’s closing arguments: MOSCXS’ sludged beat goth-step exploration around the poem “Poema Agreste” by Glória de Sant’Anna.

“Whoever gives nothing, has nothing; the greatest misfortune is not to be unloved, but not to love “ - Albert Camus

Cristian Marras - OCD - JoeFarr - Codex Empire

After a massive 30-tracks digital compilation celebrating a decade of existence, Gegen keeps moving forward with the release of their third vinyl record.

Starting it off is Berlin-based Cristian Marras: DJ, Producer and Rebels Conspiracy label founder who plays solid driving Industrial Techno and his track for Gegen is no exception. Opening with ethereal chants like a coven calling to arms, Asymmetric sounds like an existential journey from awakening to action, the switch in state of mind materialized by a menacing acid line immerging halfway through, leading us out of darkness.

Next is UK’s JoeFarr, a versatile and skilled craftsman who recently got music out on Soma followed soon by a release on Rebekah’s Elements. His track for Gegen is the bittersweet Timeless, built on the duality between soft emotional hopeful melodies and raw distorted cutting martial basslines and crushing sound design.

On the B side, Berlin’s OCD’s artist statement centered around the ideology of pain and the battle against anxiety caused by a senseless world with the goal to turn people’s fear and information overload into rage and find pleasure from overwhelming emotions in modern rhythms is in full effect on her track Egoismus. With its mournful pads like heartbroken fairies floating above an army on the move and thumping kicks characteristic of her hard sound, OCD brings you into an oneiric state where everything is out of control and too fast — a metaphor for our ages.

To round it all up is British-born, Vienna-based Codex Empire whose productions you might have heard on aufnahme + wiedergabe or Sacred Court. He brings to Gegen his signature dark and intense techno with Hagane, a track built on heavy rhythmic elements and metallic pounding sounds bouncing off each other for an unstoppable groove.

An appealing blast of West Coast new wave, with good songs played with
blistering intensity
The late 1970s and early 1980s were an explosive and exciting period for
music and the local San Francisco music scene was no exception
Jack Casady had been playing constantly from 1965-1972 as Jefferson Airplane,
continuing on as Hot Tuna on through 1977. Hot Tuna took a bit of a break and
SVT was born of this period, and these recordings represent this period so well.
Brian Marnell, Paul Zahl, Bill Gibson, Nick Buck and Jack Casady made some
exciting and somewhat furious music during this time period, bringing back such
memories of all of their live shows