Search:the little ones

In his own time, in his own tone and in his own company.

‘Win and lose without losing oneself’’ This line from French rapper Oxmo Puccino greatly accompanied David Walters while composing his fourth studio album. Over the eleven tracks on ‘Ti Love’, David took his time to find the right tone and in turn, tell his truth.

‘Ti Love’, is a French-Creole abbreviation for “petite love”, meaning ‘little love’, evoking that sweet fondness found in those small gestures and little acts of kindness.

Think of things like young kids' brotherly love or a stranger lending you a helping hand, while expecting nothing in return. It’s these motions that allow this album to feel full of real life, carried by beating drums that also pull at our heart strings.

Basing himself in a small village in Martinique, where David had not long since scattered the ashes of his late mother, the multi-instrumentalist decided to remain there and let the writing of Ti Love pour out from deep inside him. Taking influence from around the island, the energy from his makeshift studio set up in Fort de France, allowing a resilient yet grieving man to recount, let go and come to terms with his recent loss.

So embracing these new circumstances, on the rugged coastal Caribbean island of Martinique, David took up an artist’s residency in the island’s capital Fort de France, located near the town’s port is the ‘Manoir des Artistes’, a bustling recording studio space. A place where the walls shake as the latest sounds being created are blasted by locals and visitors alike. Most studio doors are wide open; as music here is a huge part of everyday life, feedback from encouraging neighbouring musicians is on hand and welcomed. A contrast to the isolation often assumed with working in more traditional music studios.

It was here in this stimulating environment that David recorded Ti Love’s initial demos.

With his first collaborator onboard, Neeweed, a 25-year-old producer and gospel expert who David met at the Martinique Jazz Festival.

Of the album’s initial versions of the record David recollects: ‘It took me three years to write it, then I rewrote it, reworked it. In the end I'm really glad I stepped back and listened to myself.’ I found a great ally in GUTS, who ended up being the artistic director of the record”

David surrounded himself with the right people who helped him express himself in the best possible way. He called on other friends and musical comrades; album opener and title track, ‘Ti Love’ features the incomparable Fatoumata Diawara (World Circuit Records / Africa Express) and further along additional production came in from; Izem, Art Of Tones, and GUTS himself, who all added just the right amount of ‘little love’ to this

project. Further helping hands came from Californian producer and DJ Captain Planet, who David was introduced to a few years ago. Closer to home, here in Europe, the German producer Bluestaeb appears on two tracks: the very catchy disco funk ‘Mr Maraboo’ and ‘Kite Koule’, the latter being the first single lifted from the album, where David invited Nigerian guitarist Keziah Jones.

Elsewhere on the album, fellow Heavenly Sweetness recording artist Blundetto contributed two tracks; the reggae ‘Voodoo Love’, which is David's tribute to Studio One, and the very sweet and resilient ‘Bon Voyage’, which closes the album... "It's gold, it doesn't need anything changing.” remarked David - ‘Bon Voyage’ is a goodbye to his mother, whose voice called him from the bottom of the sea one night while he was surfing during the full Moon.

Released almost 20 years after his debut album ‘AWA’ released on French imprint Ya Basta, home to Gotan Project and many others, David boasts a long list of radio supporters including; Gilles Peterson, Cerys Matthews and Don Letts at the BBC, while further field Cosmo Radio in Germany, and KCRW in Los Angeles.

On this new record, David has shown sincerity and vulnerability, while still honouring the infectious groove that he is known for the world over. Despite the upsets, a little love can indeed go a long way.

CREDITS:
Produced by Bluestaeb / Blundetto / Captain Planet / Izem / Art of Tones
A&R : Guts
Mixed by Mr Gib @ Onetwopassit
Except "Bon Voyage” and "Voodoo Love" mixed by Jerome “Blackjoy” Carron
Mastered by Benjamin Joubert @ Biduloscope
Art by Elliott Walters

Girl group greatness, courtesy of the Chicago-based Hutchinson Sisters (with Theresa Davis on this record) and co-producers Isaac Hayes, David Porter and Ronnie Williams! Recording at Muscle Shoals and Stax studios seems to have added a little grit to The Emotions' sound, too; this 1971 classic on the Volt label offers the perfect blend of sweet and sassy. ''Show Me How'' was the hit, but it's ''Blind Alley'' that made Untouched one of the most collectible albums of its kind: that track's one of the most sampled in all of pop and hip hop, most notably by Big Daddy Kane (''Ain't No Half-Steppin''') and Mariah Carey (''Dreamlover''). Pressed in black and clearwater blue vinyl editions, and cut ALL-ANALOG from the original two-track master!
A1. Take Me Back A2. Nothing Seems Impossible A3. Boss Love Maker A4. It's Been Fun A5. Love Ain't Easy Onesided B1. Blind Alley B2. Show Me How B3. If You Think It (You May as Well Do It) B4. Love Is the Hardest Thing to Find B5. Tricks Are Made for Kids B6. Boy. I Need You

Girl group greatness, courtesy of the Chicago-based Hutchinson Sisters (with Theresa Davis on this record) and co-producers Isaac Hayes, David Porter and Ronnie Williams! Recording at Muscle Shoals and Stax studios seems to have added a little grit to The Emotions' sound, too; this 1971 classic on the Volt label offers the perfect blend of sweet and sassy. ''Show Me How'' was the hit, but it's ''Blind Alley'' that made Untouched one of the most collectible albums of its kind: that track's one of the most sampled in all of pop and hip hop, most notably by Big Daddy Kane (''Ain't No Half-Steppin''') and Mariah Carey (''Dreamlover''). Pressed in black and clearwater blue vinyl editions, and cut ALL-ANALOG from the original two-track master!
A1. Take Me Back A2. Nothing Seems Impossible A3. Boss Love Maker A4. It's Been Fun A5. Love Ain't Easy Onesided B1. Blind Alley B2. Show Me How B3. If You Think It (You May as Well Do It) B4. Love Is the Hardest Thing to Find B5. Tricks Are Made for Kids B6. Boy. I Need You

Groggy, engrossing new work from Ulla under their newly minted U.e. tag, riffing to the sublime on a set of (mostly) acoustic reveries that tap into the kind of smokey vapours favoured by the likes of Vincent Gallo, Voice Actor, Jonnine.

A new year, label, album and handle for Ulla, a multifaceted artist who has draped our pages with wonder, under numerous aliases and collabs, for almost a decade. On ‘Hometown Girl’ they distill transience and flux into a quiet set of chamber works subtly resembling the room recorded nuance of their ‘Jazz Plates’ side with Perila - here taken a step further into more elusive, low-lit dimensions.

In a mode that’s wistful and melancholic, listening to the album’s dozen discrete pieces feels like leafing thru a journal of hand-written notes, reflecting on the feelings that come with separation from loved ones and displacement from familiarity. Ulla performed and recorded all of the instruments themselves, lending a tangible tactility to layered arrangements of woodwind, keys, strings, drums and voice, lightly speckled with electronics and perfused with open window field recordings.

They locate a crackling frisson of personality in the voice notes and day-dreaminess of their mottled inscapes, gauzily demarcating lines between past and present selves. In that aesthetic and approach we can also hear similarities to Jonnine’s blue-skied ‘Southside Girl’ or crys cole’s poetic sensuality, often leaning into the domestic surreal.

A frayed, opening salutation ‘Good Morning’ signals a delirious half hour in Ulla’s company, variously swaying to the downstroked jazz swing of a ‘Lavender (NF)’ spritzed with clarinet, whilst ‘Froggy Explorer’ stirs the air like Jan Jelinek on a barely-there tip. The Basinski-esque fritz of degraded loops really snags the imagination along with a twinkling nightlight ‘Ball’, as the album opens out into its most fully resolved songs with a closing couplet of disarming wonders ‘Drawing of Me’, and a blurry ‘Mute’ that feels like Ulla 〜almost〜 reveals too much before retreating back into the shadows.

Peach Discs’ last EP of 2025 comes from DJ & producer Leibniz. Hopefully you can hear why we chose to wait till club season is fully upon us to put this one out – "Corridor" is a deeply heads-down, groove-forward record that casts an enveloping atmosphere across its minimal, tunneling arrangements built for dark rooms and long nights.

Across the EP's four tracks, Leibniz (real name Moritz Paul) picks a vibe and runs with it – themes persist, the focus narrows and what we get is something approaching a mood. Drawing inspiration from early 2000s techno records from the likes of Archetype while combining the ambient warmth of Kompakt’s Pop Ambient compilations and GAS releases with the clarity and weight of early dubstep and 2-step, he dived into a process of self-sampling, resampling shorter demos and ideas into full arrangements, or "making in-between tracks that help make the tracks.”

The pair of tracks on the record's A-side are made up of little more than razor-sharp percussion, billowing, restless pads and an infectious bassline, but it's the way these carefully considered elements are put together that do the damage on the floor.

Flip it over and Ten Ten breaks the 4x4 spell for a moment, leaning into a heavily swung, garage-indebted sound inspired by the king of swing himself, El-B. "If my drums resemble just a bit of the ones of El-B, I‘m happy." We reckon he can be happy. Finally, TTL takes us back to the persistent, driving energy of the A-side, with just a hint of hardgroove flavour and the kind of wonked-out fx that always suits the B2 of a record.

Embrace The Abandon is the new project by THE MON, the solo vision of Urlo, vocalist, bassist, and founding member of the Italian heavy-psych veterans Ufomammut.

Structured in two complementary chapters — Songs of Abandon (November 7th, 2025) and Songs of Embrace (March 6th, 2026) — the project tells a journey of duality: loss and surrender on one side, acceptance and rebirth on the other.
The first chapter, Songs of Abandon, is perhaps the most intimate and vulnerable work Urlo has ever created.
Born in a moment of solitude and personal darkness, the album originated from a radical exercise: writing one song a day, for nine consecutive days, using only acoustic guitar and voice.
A collection of stripped-down, emotionally raw ballads. Rooted in acoustic textures and intimate songwriting, these songs explore loss, vulnerability, and the quiet spaces left behind — a personal exorcism of what could have been but never was.
Later, these sketches were shaped into fully realized tracks, with lyrics and subtle layers of sound — not to overwhelm, but to underline the fragile, raw atmosphere that pervades them. The result is a stripped-down, emotionally charged collection that embodies an inner search: the power of music as a tool to face abandonment, to dig into oneself, and ultimately to glimpse the possibility of an embrace.
With Embrace The Abandon, THE MON reaffirms itself as one of the most personal and uncompromising projects.
It is a body of work that fuses vulnerability and strength, speaking directly to the listener with sincerity, leading them through shadow towards light.
An intimate yet powerful sound experience, intertwining the minimalism of acoustic folk with the dark, visionary tension that has always defined Urlo’s artistic path.

Following the "rich jangle and big, well-developed songs" (Bandcamp) of 2023's Bananasugarfire, Edling sought to deconstruct his creative process by centering collaboration instead of a more solitary pursuit in songwriting, even as personal matters made isolation a more natural instinct. He describes taking time to make notes of the ways, timing and forms in which songs came to him in the process of demoing the record, and regularly questioning if his approach was like that of "watching a pot of water boil" or waiting for a bolt of light to appear in the sky. In many ways, Shooting Star is an appeal to the muse, a record of "songs about writing songs" born from Edling's desire to trust his instincts despite the posturings of inner demons and creative roadblocks, and to celebrate the little wins along the way. The result is a sprawling new work packed to the brim with playful eccentricities and dynamism, one that owes as much of its inspiration to mid-century folkies like Michael Hurley and Karen Dalton as it does to alt rock of the nineties like Yo La Tengo and Stereolab. Shooting Star is a constellation of influences, experiences, reckonings-with the state of the world, with others, with creativity, with oneself-with no two songs created in the same way. Instead of holing up in a recording studio, the creation of the record was formed by a patchwork of collaborations in a variety of recording locales, all which were later alchemized by mix engineer Matthew Schimelfenig. - RIYL Sparklehorse, John Cale, Yo La Tengo, Superviolet, Spirit of the Beehive, Horse Jumper of Love, Of Montreal

Seeking overlooked beauty and prizing reflection in a distracted world, Hammock creates cinematic music for the road less traveled. In stirring works of shimmering post-rock ambience that swell with hope and melancholic nostalgia, the Nashville-based duo of Marc Byrd and Andrew Thompson immerse listeners in living visions of moments long past, animating life's fond remembrances and scarring losses with gentle lens-flare harmonics, heart-surging neoclassical drama, and pensive silence. A direct challenge to the passive existence of modern life, where everything can be experienced but precious little is felt, Hammock demands, and richly rewards, patience and contemplation. One of Hammock's career defining works, the Mysterium, Universalis, and Silencia trilogy came to a close in 2019. The first chapter, Mysterium, was written following the death of Byrd's 20-year-old nephew and dealt with incomprehensible, shattering loss. Difficult understanding came on Universalis, and an altered reality understood through quiet reflection took hold on Silencia. Emerging from the silence, a period that brought with it the global pandemic of Covid-19 that has kept loved ones apart, conscripted months upon months of isolation, and roused directionless longing for escape, Hammock presents Elsewhere. Recorded by Byrd and Thompson at their homes, apart and with minimal equipment, Elsewhere serves as a gateway to another place, materializes feelings of separation and loss without closure, and calls listeners back to live their lives - not spend them longing to be something or somewhere else. - Wyatt Marshal

‘Moiré’ is the second album by French musician and singer Charlotte Leclerc. Charlotte's songs are like those little details of everyday life that you discover when you slow down the pace of your busy day. She uses the sound of her machines to tell us about human relationships. Relationships between two people and universal relationships. The ones that connect us all and make this planet run a little more smoothly.

Where the Butterflies Go in the Rain is the third studio album from the enchanting songstress, Raveena. Blending powerful storytelling with early 2000s pop, Where the Butterflies Go in the Rain sees music continuing to play the central role as both a catalyst and medium in her personal and creative growth. With newfound clarity, Raveena delves into themes of new love, maturity, comfort, and domesticity that reflect the peace of mind she currently inhabits. Speaking on this evolution and how it informed the album’s creative, she shares, “Butterflies are so delicate that they have to hide in leaves and flowers until the rain passes so that their wings don’t get crushed in the rain. I felt like that was kind of a metaphor for where I was in my life. I needed to go back to comfort—to deep rest—and stop weathering storms.” On the most instinctual level it’s an album that should conjure simple pleasures like the joy of a summer road trip with loved ones.

Embracing the sounds of classic artists like Fleetwood Mac, Brandy, Bob Marley, Joni Mitchell, and Marvin Gaye, to name a few, Where the Butterflies Go in the Rain draws inspiration from people who, “are really good at capturing the beauty and loss of life in the same breath,” she describes. In her signature style, Raveena seamlessly unites that expansive songwriting with traditional Indian instruments and feel-good early 2000s pop hits —putting forth a work that’s more unabashedly herself than any that’s come before.

Raveena reflects on her forthcoming album, “I don't think I've ever understood a record so well before—It wasn’t like the process I used to have with past albums where I was more anxious about being at my best. This time, it was all intuition, and I knew the album was right when I finally had the feeling of rest.”

The deluxe release sees the addition of 3 tracks. Sun Don't Leave Me - contemplating the feeling of wanting to hold onto one more beautiful sunset, one more passionate embrace, before things change again and hard times strike again - and a reimagined version of Lose My Focus with UMI, bringing fresh energy to an album that’s more unapologetically Raveena than ever.

There are bands that you feel you have known forever -- recent ones, new
ones even -- because you are already so familiar with what you know they are
going to offer, familiar with the anticipation and the need, with the pleasure
you expect them to, quite rightfully, provide the masses (by which I mean
people who have once considered calling their first-born Kang)
VERDICT is such a band. It has members of MEANWHILE, NO SECURITY,
WARCOLLAPSE, 3- WAY CUM, TOTALITAR, and too many other bands, and even
though I have never actually met any of them, I still have had more interactions with
them through (over)playing and rocking to their records than I have had with some
members of my family, which, to be honest, is definitely for the best. VERDICT is a
rather new (but experienced in the things of the D) kang hardcore band, and they know
exactly what they are doing and how to do it. Had they produced something different,
that would have completely taken me aback -- something horrendous like ska- punk
would have made so little sense that I would have had to quit punk altogether. Alright,
what about The Rat Race, then. This is the follow-up to last year's Time to Resign, and
this one has even more punch, fury, and pummeling power than its predecessor.
Unoriginal, in a good way, and thoroughly checking all the correct boxes: the
drumming is pure and relentless, the riffs' efficiency is religiously executed in a
"Scandicore 101" way, the vocals are angry, direct, and raspy. Think a joyous orgy
between NO SECURITY, UNCURBED, and TOTALITAR.
This is the kind of record that makes the world a better place to rock. Thank you
Phobia Records. Kang up your life.

Very few bands manage to last decades, and for the ones that do, it's often easy to settle down and get a little too comfortable. But there's nothing comfortable about Devourer, the explosive new album from Cursive. The iconic Omaha group is known for their intensity, ambition, and execution, and has spent 30 years creating a bold discography that's defined as much by its cathartic sound as its weighty, challenging lyrical themes. And Devourer is as daring as ever. Full of intense and incisive songs, the album proves exactly why Cursive have been so influential and enduring-and why they remain so vital today.In the years since their 1995 formation, Cursive developed into one of the most important groups to emerge from the late-'90s/early `00s moment when the lines between indie rock and post-hardcore began blurring into something altogether new. Albums like Domestica (2000) and The Ugly Organ (2003) became essential touchstones whose echoes can still be heard in new bands today. Devourer, as an expansive new double-album, examines humanity's bottomless capacity for consumption through a series of songs that act like vignettes, driven by frontman Tim Kasher's never-ending appetite for both taking in and creating art."I am obsessive about consuming the arts," he explains. "Music, film, literature. I've come to recognize that I devour all of these art forms then, in turn, create my own versions of these things and spew them out onto the world. It's positive; you're part of an ecosystem. But I quickly recognized that the term, `Devourer,' may also embody something gnarly, sinister." Fans have come to expect such heady topics from Cursive, but Devourer sets a new standard.While Cursive's music hasn't gotten any more comfortable, perhaps its being released into a world that's at least a little more shaped in their image. Devourer sounds urgent and fresh, the work of a band still experimenting, still hungering to find new creative heights. On album highlight "Consumers," the protagonist bemoans, "I saw our future and I want to go back." But Cursive are only moving forward.

Googling “paradise house”, the first results to pop up are an endless list of European b&b’s with whitewashed lime façades, all of them promising “…an unmatched travel experience a few steps from the sea”. Next, a little further down, are the institutional websites of a few select semi-luxury retirement homes (no photos shown, but lots of stock images of smiling nurses with reassuring looks). To find the “paradise house” we’re after, we have to scroll even further down. Much further down.

It feels like yesterday, and at the same time it seems like a million years ago. The Eighties had just ended, and it was still unclear what to expect from the Nineties. Mobile phones that were not the size of a briefcase and did not cost as much as a car? A frightening economic crisis? The guitar-rock revival?! Certainly, the best place to observe that moment of transition was the dancefloor. Truly epochal transformations were happening there. From America, within a short distance one from the other, two revolutionary new musical styles had arrived: the first one sounded a bit like an “on a budget” version of the best Seventies disco-music – Philly sound made with a set of piano-bar keyboards! – the other was even more sparse, futuristic and extraterrestrial. It was a music with a quite distinct “physical” component, which at the same time, to be fully grasped, seemed to call for the knotty theories of certain French post-modern philosophers: Gilles Deleuze, Félix Guattari, Paul Virilio... Both those genres – we would learn shortly after – were born in the black communities of Chicago and Detroit, although listening to those vinyl 12” (often wrapped in generic white covers, and with little indication in the label) you could not easily guess whether behind them there was a black boy from somewhere in the Usa, or a girl from Berlin, or a pale kid from a Cornish coastal town.

Quickly, similar sounds began to show up from all corners of Europe. A thousand variations of the same intuition: leaner, less lean, happier, slightly less intoxicated, more broken, slower, faster, much faster... Boom! From the dancefloors – the London ones at least, whose chronicles we eagerly read every month in the pages of The Face and i-D – came tales of a new generation of clubbers who had completely stopped “dressing up” to go dancing; of hot tempered hooligans bursting into tears and hugging everyone under the strobe lights as the notes of Strings of Life rose up through the fumes of dry ice (certain “smiling” pills were also involved, sure). At this point, however, we must move on to Switzerland.

In Switzerland, in the quiet and diligent town of Lugano, between the 1980s and 1990s there was a club called “Morandi”. Its hot night was on Wednesdays, when the audience also came from Milan, Como, Varese and Zurich. Legend goes that, one night, none less than Prince and Sheila E were spotted hiding among the sofas, on a day-off of the Italian dates of the Nude Tour… The Wednesday resident and superstar was an Italian dj with an exotic name: Don Carlos. The soundtrack he devised was a mixture of Chicago, Detroit, the most progressive R&B and certain forgotten classics of old disco music: practically, what the Paradise Garage in New York might have sounded like had it not closed in 1987. In between, Don Carlos also managed to squeeze in some tracks he had worked on in his studio on Lago Maggiore. One in particular: a track that was rather slow compared to the BPM in fashion at the time, but which was a perfect bridge between house and R&B. The title was Alone: Don Carlos would explain years later that it had to be intended both in the English meaning of “by itself” and like the Italian word meaning “halo”. That wasn’t the only double entendre about the song, anyway. Its own very deep nature was, indeed, double. On the one hand, Alone was built around an angelic keyboard pattern and a romantic piano riff that took you straight to heaven; on the other, it showcased enough electronic squelches (plus a sax part that sounded like it had been dissolved by acid rain) to pigeonhole the tune into the “junk modernity” section, aka the hallmark of all the most innovative sounds of the time: music that sounded like it was hand-crafted from the scraps of glittering overground pop.

No one knows who was the first to call it “paradise house”, nor when it happened. Alternative definitions on the same topic one happened to hear included “ambient house”, “dream house”, “Mediterranean progressive”… but of course none were as good (and alluring) as “paradise house”. What is certain is that such inclination for sounds that were in equal measure angelic and neurotic, romantic and unaffective, quickly became the trademark of the second generation of Italian house. Music that seemed shyly equidistant from all the rhythmic and electronic revolutions that had happened up to that moment (“Music perfectly adept at going nowhere slowly” as noted by English journalist Craig McLean in a legendary field report for Blah Blah Blah magazine). Music that to a inattentive ear might have sounded as anonymous as a snapshot of a random group of passers-by at 10AM in the centre of any major city, but perfectly described the (slow) awakening in the real world after the universal love binge of the so-called Second Summer of Love.

For a brief but unforgettable season, in Italy “paradise house” was the official soundtrack of interminable weekends spent inside the car, darting from one club to another, cutting the peninsula from North to centre, from East to West coast in pursuit of the latest after-hours disco, trading kilometres per hour with beats per minute: practically, a new New Year’s Eve every Friday and Saturday night. This too was no small transformation, as well as a shock for an adult Italy that was encountering for the first time – thanks to its sons and daughters – the wild side of industrial modernity. The clubbers of the so-called “fuoriorario” scene were the balls gone mad in the pinball machine most feared by newspapers, magazines and TV pundits. What they did each and every weekend, apart from going crazy to the sound of the current white labels, was linking distant geographical points and non-places (thank you Marc Augé!) – old dance halls, farmhouses and business centres – transformed for one night into house music heaven. As Marco D’Eramo wrote in his 1995 essay on Chicago, Il maiale e il grattacielo: “Four-wheeled capitalism distorts our age-old image of the city, it allows the suburbs to be connected to each other, whereas before they were connected only by the centre (…) It makes possible a metropolitan area without a metropolis, without a city centre, without downtown. The periphery is no longer a periphery of any centre, but is self-centred”.

“Paradise house” perfectly understood all of this and turned it into a sort of cyber-blues that didn’t even need words, and unexpectedly brought back a drop of melancholic (post?)-humanity within a world that by then – as we would wholly realise in the decades to come – was fully inhuman and heartless. A world where we were all alone, and surrounded by a sinister yellowish halo, like a neon at the end of its life cycle. But, for one night at least, happy."

Samuel Locke Ward and Jad Fair are two of the most prolific musicians working today. Fair is a founding member of the band Half Japanese, and has released over 200 albums, including albums with Yo La Tengo, Daniel Johnston, Moe Tucker, Kramer, Teenage Fanclub, The Pastels, R. Stevie Moore, DQE, Tenniscoats, The Tinklers, Naomi Ishimaru, Jason Willett, Mosquito, and Strobe Talbot. Samuel Locke Ward has released over sixty solo albums as well as a myriad of collaborations with Bob Bucko Jr, Miracles Of God, SLW cc Watt (with Mike Watt) and the cult new age noise group Boundless Relaxation (with Joe Jack Talcum and The Bassturd). He is a cartoonist for Little Village magazine and like Jad Fair, his style musically and visually is wholly his own Pure Candy is the pair’s third album together following 2023’s Happy Hearts and Destroy All Monsters, both issued by Kill Rock Stars. Pure Candy is an album of love songs and is the feel good album of the Summer, Winter, Spring and Fall. The music was composed and performed by Ward who’s love of pop music and avant stylings offer seventeen unexpected turns over the course of a three minute song. The vocals and lyrics are by Fair, lyrics overflowing with words of love, joy, happiness, tenderness, hope and inspiration. Uplifting words for a time dearly in need of some upliftings. As with the previous two albums by Fair and Ward, this album was mixed and mastered by Jonathan Hansen and is being co-released on LP by Shrimper Records (who last worked with Fair on his collaborative three cassette box set Wonderful World) and Chicago’s Stationary (Hearts) Recordings.

Volume 1 of this expertly curated project of 90s Italian House - put together by Don Carlos.

If Paradise was half as nice… by Fabio De Luca.

Googling “paradise house”, the first results to pop up are an endless list of European b&b’s with whitewashed lime façades, all of them promising “…an unmatched travel experience a few steps from the sea”. Next, a little further down, are the institutional websites of a few select semi-luxury retirement homes (no photos shown, but lots of stock images of smiling nurses with reassuring looks). To find the “paradise house” we’re after, we have to scroll even further down. Much further down.

It feels like yesterday, and at the same time it seems like a million years ago. The Eighties had just ended, and it was still unclear what to expect from the Nineties. Mobile phones that were not the size of a briefcase and did not cost as much as a car? A frightening economic crisis? The guitar-rock revival?! Certainly, the best place to observe that moment of transition was the dancefloor. Truly epochal transformations were happening there. From America, within a short distance one from the other, two revolutionary new musical styles had arrived: the first one sounded a bit like an “on a budget” version of the best Seventies disco-music – Philly sound made with a set of piano-bar keyboards! – the other was even more sparse, futuristic and extraterrestrial. It was a music with a quite distinct “physical” component, which at the same time, to be fully grasped, seemed to call for the knotty theories of certain French post-modern philosophers: Gilles Deleuze, Félix Guattari, Paul Virilio... Both those genres – we would learn shortly after – were born in the black communities of Chicago and Detroit, although listening to those vinyl 12” (often wrapped in generic white covers, and with little indication in the label) you could not easily guess whether behind them there was a black boy from somewhere in the Usa, or a girl from Berlin, or a pale kid from a Cornish coastal town.

Quickly, similar sounds began to show up from all corners of Europe. A thousand variations of the same intuition: leaner, less lean, happier, slightly less intoxicated, more broken, slower, faster, much faster... Boom! From the dancefloors – the London ones at least, whose chronicles we eagerly read every month in the pages of The Face and i-D – came tales of a new generation of clubbers who had completely stopped “dressing up” to go dancing; of hot tempered hooligans bursting into tears and hugging everyone under the strobe lights as the notes of Strings of Life rose up through the fumes of dry ice (certain “smiling” pills were also involved, sure). At this point, however, we must move on to Switzerland.

In Switzerland, in the quiet and diligent town of Lugano, between the 1980s and 1990s there was a club called “Morandi”. Its hot night was on Wednesdays, when the audience also came from Milan, Como, Varese and Zurich. Legend goes that, one night, none less than Prince and Sheila E were spotted hiding among the sofas, on a day-off of the Italian dates of the Nude Tour… The Wednesday resident and superstar was an Italian dj with an exotic name: Don Carlos. The soundtrack he devised was a mixture of Chicago, Detroit, the most progressive R&B and certain forgotten classics of old disco music: practically, what the Paradise Garage in New York might have sounded like had it not closed in 1987. In between, Don Carlos also managed to squeeze in some tracks he had worked on in his studio on Lago Maggiore. One in particular: a track that was rather slow compared to the BPM in fashion at the time, but which was a perfect bridge between house and R&B. The title was Alone: Don Carlos would explain years later that it had to be intended both in the English meaning of “by itself” and like the Italian word meaning “halo”. That wasn’t the only double entendre about the song, anyway. Its own very deep nature was, indeed, double. On the one hand, Alone was built around an angelic keyboard pattern and a romantic piano riff that took you straight to heaven; on the other, it showcased enough electronic squelches (plus a sax part that sounded like it had been dissolved by acid rain) to pigeonhole the tune into the “junk modernity” section, aka the hallmark of all the most innovative sounds of the time: music that sounded like it was hand-crafted from the scraps of glittering overground pop.

No one knows who was the first to call it “paradise house”, nor when it happened. Alternative definitions on the same topic one happened to hear included “ambient house”, “dream house”, “Mediterranean progressive”… but of course none were as good (and alluring) as “paradise house”. What is certain is that such inclination for sounds that were in equal measure angelic and neurotic, romantic and unaffective, quickly became the trademark of the second generation of Italian house. Music that seemed shyly equidistant from all the rhythmic and electronic revolutions that had happened up to that moment (“Music perfectly adept at going nowhere slowly” as noted by English journalist Craig McLean in a legendary field report for Blah Blah Blah magazine). Music that to a inattentive ear might have sounded as anonymous as a snapshot of a random group of passers-by at 10AM in the centre of any major city, but perfectly described the (slow) awakening in the real world after the universal love binge of the so-called Second Summer of Love.

For a brief but unforgettable season, in Italy “paradise house” was the official soundtrack of interminable weekends spent inside the car, darting from one club to another, cutting the peninsula from North to centre, from East to West coast in pursuit of the latest after-hours disco, trading kilometres per hour with beats per minute: practically, a new New Year’s Eve every Friday and Saturday night. This too was no small transformation, as well as a shock for an adult Italy that was encountering for the first time – thanks to its sons and daughters – the wild side of industrial modernity. The clubbers of the so-called “fuoriorario” scene were the balls gone mad in the pinball machine most feared by newspapers, magazines and TV pundits. What they did each and every weekend, apart from going crazy to the sound of the current white labels, was linking distant geographical points and non-places (thank you Marc Augé!) – old dance halls, farmhouses and business centres – transformed for one night into house music heaven. As Marco D’Eramo wrote in his 1995 essay on Chicago, Il maiale e il grattacielo: “Four-wheeled capitalism distorts our age-old image of the city, it allows the suburbs to be connected to each other, whereas before they were connected only by the centre (…) It makes possible a metropolitan area without a metropolis, without a city centre, without downtown. The periphery is no longer a periphery of any centre, but is self-centred”.

“Paradise house” perfectly understood all of this and turned it into a sort of cyber-blues that didn’t even need words, and unexpectedly brought back a drop of melancholic (post?)-humanity within a world that by then – as we would wholly realise in the decades to come – was fully inhuman and heartless. A world where we were all alone, and surrounded by a sinister yellowish halo, like a neon at the end of its life cycle. But, for one night at least, happy.

Young Kingz II marks Krept & Konan’s first album since top-5 charting Revenge Is Sweet, a project which cemented their place in music history as UK rap royalty and saw them become the first British rap act to headline the O2 London. It also follows the duo’s equally ground-breaking 2017 release of 7 DAYS and 7 NIGHTS, which saw them become the first act ever to have two mixtapes simultaneously enter the Top 10 of the Official UK Albums chart, and their 2015 debut album The Long Way Home which debuted at no. 2 on The Official UK Albums Chart, becoming the highest charting British Rap album in UK chart history.

With Young Kingz II, Krept & Konan are set to continue their legacy and undisputed relevance in the British music scene. Returning to their independent roots, they come full circle with the follow up to their 2013 released Young Kingz mixtape which catapulted the duo into the Top 20 of The Official UK Albums Chart, earning them a Guinness World Record for the highest charting UK album by an unsigned act.

Young Kingz was pivotal in establishing Krept & Konan as trailblazers in the UK rap scene, kickstarting their reputation for repeatedly breaking records and consistently breaking ground. With a broad-ranging rollcall of featured artists, it heralded their signature approach to collaborations of enlisting fledgling artists (such as s then little-known MC, Stormzy), alongside more established ones (George The Poet, Chip, Tine Tempah and Giggs). It also saw Krept & Konan gain traction across the Atlantic with US rappers French Montana, Chinx Drugz, Lil Durk stepping up on the remix of the mixtape’s second single release, "Don’t Waste My Time", and garnered them a BET Award (Best International Act) and MOBO Award (Best Hip-Hop Act).

‘Young Kingz II’ is poised to be yet another milestone in Krept & Konan's unstoppable career. As unapologetic pioneers in UK hip-hop, they continue to push boundaries and set new benchmarks in British music.

The last couple of years have seen a renaissance for West Coast singer-songwriters. LA-based youngsters such as Drugdealer and Sylvie have attracted considerable attention releasing warm and mellow records tonally reminiscent of the early 70s. Most fans of this new/old sound are unaware of Bart Davenport's early explorations in the same sonic territory. His now 20-year-old "Game Preserve"album should gain an appreciative new audience with its first ever vinyl release.

In the year 2000, Bay Area troubadour Bart Davenport and several other musicians were recruited by a major tech corporation in Seattle to work on an algorithm-based music matching/search engine. It was what looked like the beginning of a promising career. After a year, however, the project was shelved. Bart and his colleagues were laid off with a healthy severance package... on the 12th of September, 2001. Not only had the musician's life changed, so had the world. Rather than blow the money on a holiday or new car, Bart knew he had to make a record. A proper album that meant something.

Back in Oakland, he entered Wally Sound Studios with former Kinetics bandmate Jon Erickson at the controls, and a swathe of talented local musicians. "With Game Preserve," Bart explains, "Jon and I really wanted to knock it out of the park. I wanted to utilize people from my old bands like Loved Ones drummer John Kent. I also invited my newer indie-pop friends from Call & Response, and a young Nedelle Torrisi. Harmony singing by The Moore Brothers was an essential ingredient on Game Preserve as well."

Both Erickson and Davenport fondly recall growing up in households where the music of The Carpenters, Joni Mitchell and The Eagles soundtracked their young lives. By the early 00s they were ready to reconnect with what is often referred to as the "Laurel Canyon" sound. "I'd buy used tapes at garage sales and play them in the car. "Ladies Of The Canyon" by Joni and Jackson Browne's first album were both in heavy rotation. Jon Erickson was getting deeper into the Steely-Mac-Doobie yacht-rock sound in earnest. A certain amount of childhood nostalgia led a lot of us back to that part of the 70s. I'd flirted with classic soft-rock on my first album, but that record was pretty scattered esthetically. I wanted my next one to be more focused. Jon and I made some ground rules: no electric guitars (except on 'Bar-Code Trees'). No synths. Most importantly, all the songs have an air-tight, super dead, close mic'd drum sound. Putting these sorts of limitations on the sessions will give your record a specific quality. In the case of "Game Preserve"it's mostly about tight drums, acoustic instruments and analog production. We used a 24-track, two-inch tape machine for tracking, then ran the mixes through an analog board straight to a 1/4 inch master tape."

While the album's sonic palette may be firmly planted in 1970, Davenport's songwriting covers a sizable landscape of moods and reflections. From the quasi-flamenco intro of 'Sweetest Game' to the somber Wurlitzer of 'Nowhere Left To Go', to the 12-string shimmer of 'Intertwine', "Game Preserve" tells a story of young love, lost innocence and redemption, crossing borders and oceans along the way.

Released in 2003 on family-run Oakland label Antenna Farm, the ultra-analog sounding "Game Preserve" was only made available on digital formats, including CD. Copies were later pressed by labels in Germany and Spain; the latter being one country the album actually did well in, establishing Bart Davenport with a small but loyal fanbase he still enjoys today. Two European tours as support for Kings of Convenience also helped gain a foothold on the continent. Back in the US, however, Davenport and his sophomore album remained quite obscure.

Limited promotion meant it did little, but for the music lovers that heard it, the album undoubtedly remains a classic of the era, deserving far more. Twenty years on, it now finally receives its vinyl debut. "I personally think it holds up well," says Bart of the album two decades later. "The idea was to make something that could be an homage to late 60s/early 70s West Coast pop but hopefully timeless as well. Years on, I hear it as just that. It was a colorful and brief period of my life that felt at times like it could last forever. I discovered the joy of working in a proper studio with a perfect cast of characters. I'm still very close with all these people and still play music with many of them."

Indignation Meeting are punky rail fans from Leeds. 15-year-old Peter is the driver - he's the drummer and lead singer, writes most of the songs, and also plays bass and trumpet on the album. The rest of the crew is his dad Michael on guitar, Hugo on bass, and with Keith, Heather and Sally often along for the ride when they play out. Here at DGHQ we loved listening to their self-released debut album Trouble In The Shed so much we eventually released it on vinyl for the first time. They now have a second album! Vocalist/drummer Peter very kindly talks us through the (train) tracks_ * "The Trainspotting Song" - Now, as a train geek, I go out filming trains an awful lot, and one thing you can't help noticing whilst out in the wilds of Staffordshire or the moors of Lancashire are a whole load of unnecessary 'Private Land' signs. This song is my response_ * "The Talyllyn Railway" - The history of the Talyllyn Railway is a fascinating one that I've long since wanted to explore, due to its unique nature as the first railway to ever be taken over by volunteers. This is the result! * "The Middleton Railway" - As a volunteer at the Middleton Railway, I had felt that a song needed to be written for quite a while. However, our guitarist Michael, ended up beating me to it! * "A Model World" - It was late one night, and I was lying on my sofa, trying my hardest to gain an ounce of enjoyment from 'Hornby; A Model World.' It was proving quite hard, due to the alarming lack of substance in the programme, so instead I decided that its name was rather good, and could be the basis of a song explaining my 'model world.' And, well, here it is! * "The Fifth Black Five" - This song is dedicated to the railway preservationists of old, who spent countless hours in cold, damp, dreary sidings, all to make sure us future generations would be able to enjoy the smell of a steam train. Thanks guys! * "Case Study" - This song is a commentary on the sensationalisation of disasters, when there's a massive tragedy and people at home just sit in their comfy sofas, watching the news and drinking tea. We know what's going on, but we can just choose to turn off the TV and forget it ever happened and continue with our lives. It also relates to the dehumanisation of those disasters you experience in school, where you have to write essays on someone who's just become homeless. It seems quite heartless sometimes_ * "Loco Motives" - This song is a fictional story of a man's personal struggle with a railway company, and the drastic measures he took to fix them_ * "That Would Never Suit His Grace" - With model railways, you always seem to get a few people who can never be satisfied with a layout or a model - no matter how hard someone's tried, there's always something to improve on, and they're never nice about it either. This song is a reality check for them_ * "Small Black Shunter" - This is our second homage to Zounds - Electrification would never be truly complete without its B-side. And this B-side is the story of a little loco who wanted to see the world. * "Rhydyronen" - Slowly but surely, we're going to pick off all of the stations on the Talyllyn Railway. Starting where Abergynolwyn left off, this is the story of our second favourite station on the TR. * "Typically English Day" - This is an homage to Mark Astronaut, a true punk genius who was gone before his time. Although there were many songs we could've picked to cover, it only seemed right to punk up one of his most popular tracks, and one of the main ones that got me into the Astronauts in the first place - Typically English Day, a heart-wrenching tale of an elderly couple trapped in the middle of a nuclear war, following their last moments before their inevitable demise. * "Just For The Record" - There is too much misinformation in the media these days, and one case I found particularly egregious was the gross misrepresentation of the strikers, who aren't so evil as the media want you to believe_

When Bob Vylan won the first MOBO award for Best Alternative Music Act in 2022, the punk-grime duo took to the stage and used the platform to speak about how they managed to achieve the impossible as independent artists in a genre-defying space. “We released an album this year that we produced entirely, mixed entirely, recorded entirely, all from my bedroom…so everybody that’s here, bigging up Atlantic and bigging up Warner, fuck that, us man did it ourselves”.

It was an acceptance speech that rattled the room and built anticipation for their next projects.

Humble as the Sun, the forthcoming album from Bob Vylan continues with much of the rage and urgency that they have come to be known and loved for, but this latest project shows that they are now stronger and wiser, bolstered by the wins and learnings that they have fought hard for along the way. The resulting tracklist aims to leave the listener feeling power alongside their anger, and brings a fresh and compelling blend of punk, rock, grime and rap together in an experimental way.

Following on from the last album, Bob Vylan Presents the Price of Life, the message woven throughout Humble as the Sun remains dark in places but is high-energy, defiant and unapologetic in its critique of a broken social and political system that so many have fallen victim to, but feel powerless against.

This album is for the underdogs, the ones who come out swinging and those who refuse to be defeated in the face of injustice, and aims to remind listeners that anger is a fire that can be harnessed and put to use. The album creation started from a conversation with the sun, which is, after all, a big ball of fire that sustains life.

From masculinity to myths about the G Spot, the themes and topics explored on Humble As The Sun make for an often humorously empowering celebration of the peoples ability to endure, overcome and bring about change.

The lyricism on this album is even more layered than their previous projects, still darkly humorous, anti-establishment and unforgiving but at times pauses to deliver much-needed words of afrmation to listeners, “You are loved. You are not alone. You are going through hell but keep going.” Bobby assures the listener, ofering an antidote to the state of the world, aiming to give some power and agency to those who hear it. At a time when so little trust or faith exists between the people and the powers that be, Bob Vylan ofers out a hand in the despondent darkness that has overwhelmed so many in the shadow of a burning planet. They guides the listener to a place where they can see some light and feel empowered to do something, to fight back, to continue pushing forwards despite the challenges faced along the way.

Mixing all of the best quintessentially British - and Jamaican - musical elements from punk to drum and bass, grime and rock, Bob Vylan creates a sound that reflects the state of the nation, at once voicing the frustrations that normal people have, while also highlighting one’s ability to persevere, overcome hardship and to change.