Cerca:the mob

25TH ANNIVERSARY in Yellow Vinyl

The eighth Studio Album by the Band, released on April 22, 1997. It was produced by Roger Moutenot and recorded at House of David in Nashville The Album expands the guitar-based pop of its predecessor Electr-O-Pura to encompass a variety of other music genres, including Bossa Nova, Krautrock and Electronic Music. Most of the Songs on the Album deal with melancholy emotions and range from short and fragile Ballads to long and open-ended dissonance.

Since he first emerged at the end of 1999 with instant UK garage classic Re-Rewind, Craig David has scored 25 UK top 40 singles (16 of them top 10), nine UK top 40 albums (five of them top 10) and amassed over 5 billion (!) streams worldwide. In fact, over 1.5 billion of those came via his most recent releases, 2016's chart-topping comeback album, Following My Intuition, and 2018's career consolidating The Time Is Now. If you're more used to the old school metrics, that's 20m global sales. And speaking of global, he's played sold out tours everywhere from America to Australia, Japan to Germany. Across his twenty-plus year career, he's collaborated with the likes of Sting, Kano, Diplo and KSI, while also becoming one of the biggest DJs in Ibiza via his TS5 soundsystem. Award-wise we're talking 14 Brit Award nominations, two Grammy nominations, four MOBO awards and three Ivor Novellos honouring his songwriting. It's impressive, sure, but that's the past. It's ephemera. “I always feel like you need to be more real-time and present in the now,” David confirms.
That present involves an excellent new album, his eighth, in the shape of next year's 22. “It's 22 years since the first album, it will be 2022 when the album drops,” he explains of the title. This month sees the arrival of 22's glorious, MNEK-assisted lead single Who You Are, which cocoons a feel-good pop lyric about being present in a pristine UK garage casing courtesy of producer Digital Farm Animals. Like all Craig David classics it feels both box fresh and warmly nostalgic. “It will live in the world this song,” David says. “It feels so authentic, it has intention. Put on Who You Are to try and talk to someone that needs help.”

The idea of putting a smile on people's faces is at the heart of 22, an album whose title itself reflects myriad different themes. “There's also a spiritualism in the number 22 and what it represents,” he says. “In numerology it's a very powerful number and in terms of angel numbers it's bringing balance and equilibrium to my life. We're in a world where there's a lot of me against you, and so it's bridging the gap.” The title also represents distance; it's a date stamp that marks his career longevity. So what does the album's contents say about Craig David in 2022? “At its core it's still very much everything I've honoured since I was a kid, but in some ways I'm being more playful,” he says. “Loosening up the chains of my history. My debut is probably the most clear expression of who I am because it was my first outing – it's everything you are. So on this album there's that energy mixed with the wisdom and experience I can bring to the world. I've not mastered anything yet, I'm a newcomer still.” Still very much born to do it, just older and wiser.

Repressed! Illmatic, the 1994 studio debut of Nasir "Nas" Jones, was more than just a critical success for the Queensbridge-based rapper. At a time when East Coast hip-hop was increasingly being taken less seriously than their West Coast counterparts, Illmatic's raw jazz and soul-based production, dire atmosphere and lyrics, coupled with Nas' uncompromising flow was integral in restoring interest in the East Coast as a hotbed of hip-hop artistry. Along with key releases from Wu-Tang Clan and Notorious B.I.G.,it shifted attention away from the funky, dayglo synth-based G-funk coming out of California and back to the grimy streets of New York. After such an unprecedented debut record, expectations were understandably high for Nas' follow-up. What came next threw critics and fans for a loop, but was no less influential than Illmatic, and would become the most commercially successful album in the entirety of Nas' discography. The 1996 sophomore follow-up was titled It Was Written, and in contrast to the urban bleakness of his debut, had Nas dipping his toes into the world of mafioso rap. Amidst production from heavy hitters like Trackmasters, Dr. Dre, L.E.S., Havoc of Mobb Deep, and Illmatic-collaborator DJ Premier, among others, Nas weaves evocative narratives of gang warfare, downtrodden neighborhoods, drug deals gone awry, and gangsta triumph, against a backdrop of samples from Sam Cooke, Etta James, the Isley Brothers, and even Chuck Mangione. It Was Written was not hard up for top-tier guests either, featuring major guest turns from Lauryn Hill and Joel "JoJo" Hailey of K-Ci & JoJo. It also introduced the world to The Firm, the brief Nas-led supergroup featuring rappers AZ, Foxy Brown, and Cormega. It even managed to cause some minor controversy in the hip-hop community for its collaboration with West Coast producer Dr. Dre, at a time when the East Coast/West Coast rap feud was reaching a fever pitch, briefly attracting the ire of one Tupac Shakur. Not only was It Was Written received warmly by critics, but became a major commercial success, reaching the top of the Billboard 200 charts, reaching platinum sales status four times, and alongside albums like Raekwon's Only Built 4 Cuban Linx, helped usher in the era of mafioso rap in the mainstream. It rendered chart hits out of singles like the Eurhythmics-mimicking "Street Dreams", and the Grammy-nominated "If I Ruled The World (Imagine That)", and proved to be a major influence on artists like Kendrick Lamar, Lupe Fiasco, and many more.

After a rollercoaster two years promoting his last offering King Of Clubs in the middle of a global pandemic, alt-rock legend Jamie Lenman returns with the most intimate, most ambitious and most accessible album of his career. Recorded at The Chapel studios in Chichester over January and February this year with producer Mark Roberts, The Atheist is eleven tracks of guitar driven indie-pop, each laden with enough hooks to catch Moby Dick. With themes ranging from toxic friendships to socio economics to the religious topics inherent in the title, Lenman eschews the aggressive approach of previous records for a more melodic mood. “I’ve had a few of these songs kicking around for years, just waiting for the right album,” says Lenman. “Some of them were written for my first solo project Muscle Memory, some of them were even written whilst I was still in my band, but they were all too pretty. After twenty years of hard edges, particularly the ugly overtones of my last record, it was a relief to mellow out and just revel in the pure joyfulness of the thing.” From the huge earworm of Talk Hard to the stadium-sized chorus of Lena (Don’t Leave Me), the sheer catchiness of the material is undeniable, and was proven when Lenman took his new-look three-piece band to this year’s Download and played a set of entirely unheard tracks. The capacity crowd erupted into spontaneous sing-alongs despite never having heard a single note before, resulting in one of the surprise highlights of the weekend. Combined with dazzling artwork from renowned Washington Post/Wall St Journal illustrator Michael Parkin, Lenman will be unleashing his new softer side on an eager public later this year, alongside a string of live shows and the third iteration of his own mini-festival, Lenmania.

"Have you ever had this endless feeling of unconditional love for someone or music, between virtuality and reality, which seems to be eternal for your own heart... " — Nicolas Masseyeff French DJ and producer Nicolas Masseyeff shares his first album in almost a decade on Marc Romboy’s label Systematic. The release brims with lush tones, electronica-flecked rhythms and rich soundscapes, suitable for a club-based audience and home listening. Celebrated visual artist Yann Masseyeff—Nicolas’s brother—is responsible for the artwork of the release.
Raised on the French Riviera, Nicolas Masseyeff started out as a local record dealer before purchasing his own shop, Limelight, establishing it as the most respected vinyl haunt in the South of France. Pursuing music production full-time since the late noughties allowed Nicolas to follow his true path, shaping him into the multi-genre artist he is today. Having released on Herzblut Recordings, Systematic, KD Music, Mobilee and several other esteemed imprints, Nicolas has worked relentlessly to craft a sound that transcends house, electronica, downtempo and afro house. Collaborations with Kittin, Oxia and Parallelle wind throughout his back catalogue, as well as remixes for Frankyeffe, Pig&Dan, Nikola Gala, Hot Since 82 and many more besides.
Endless offers an insight into Nicolas’ spiralling world, detailing the artist’s lithe production skills and consideration when collaborating with other talents, like the interdisciplinary singer Kittin. The collection sums up where Nicolas is at now in his career—a storied producer who continues to evolve, sharing an aesthetic rich in melody while retaining a dance-driven flavour. It’s the kind of sound that comes with years of practice, patience and perseverance.

Inspired by revolutionary efforts against oppressive hegemonies in Detroit, and in Black locales around the world, Memoirs of Hi-Tech Jazz is a sound score evocative of that resistance. It is also a reminder that although violence and injustice looms, it is not the only story: we are much more than what oppresses us. The album celebrates Black leisure and play; the mundane joys that persist in spite of the depleting realities of the world.

Movement, and the very mobility of the car specifically is integral to Memoirs of Hi Tech Jazz. Timed perfectly to match the duration of a round trip drive from Underground Music Academy in the North End, to Detroit’s island park, Belle Isle - the album is undoubtedly best experienced while driving.

That journey signifies the transition from labor to pleasure: from the neighborhood of the Techno Museum in North End to an outdoor park that has long been a destination for Black Detroiters to cookout, park their boats, play spades, and listen to local music.

Memoirs of Hi-Tech Jazz embodies the feeling this place engenders—a reprieve from the midwestern work ethic, and a reminder to ground in the pleasures of your body and the land.

Expanded with B-Sides and bonus Live concert recordings plus newly remastered original album.

The genre defining Heavy Metal band Black Sabbath smash out their ‘Mob Rules’ record with epic vocals from Roni James Dio.

This 2CD/LP re-issue contains previously unreleased bonus material. This gold selling album was released in 1981 and is regarded highly worldwide.

What if Lee Perry and Lex Baxter have been caught in a firetrap altogether? A weird experiment in dub & reggae coined in 1973, the sole album of this interstellar venture was a case in point. Jamaican rhythms (provided by the almighty Trojan records crew) with legendary prog/psych keyboardist Ken Elliott (former member of influential british bands such as Second Hand and Seventh Wave) creating groovy instrumental on top. 10 tracks including the Joe Meek classic Telstar and a spacey rendition of The Skalaties' »Guns Of Navarone« for an album that might sounds like a caribbean easy listening session on dope. A truly gem on its own, incredible strange music for the suburbs.

Limited Clear Vinyl edition, 300 copies! This is Lee Morgan’s second release as a leader. At the time of the recording (1956) Morgan was just 18 and he was already shining like a mature soloist and solid band leader. Another attracting point in this set is that the most of the tracks are composed by the great Benny Golson. A beautiful hard swinging bop session featuring Hank Mobley on tenor, Horace Silver on piano, Paul Chambers on bass, Charlie Persip on drums – plus the obscure Kenny Rodgers on alto sax. Originally released on Blue Note in 1957 this album stands as a strong early piece in Lee Morgan discography

Side A: 1. Whisper Not - 2. Latin Hangover - 3. His Sister
Side B: 1. Slightly Hep - 2. Where Am I - 3. D’s Fink

Die 1984 gegründete Band Sepultura ist der
wahrscheinlich größte brasilianische Musikexport und
feierte im Laufe ihrer Karriere weltweit große Erfolge. Bis
heute haben sie fünfzehn Studioalben veröffentlicht und
weltweit über 20 Millionen Einheiten verkauft. "Dante XXI",
ursprünglich 2006 veröffentlicht, ist das 10. Studioalbum
der Band und basiert auf den drei Teilen von Dantes
"Göttlicher Komödie": Hölle, Fegefeuer und Paradies.

With I was born by the sea, Richie Culver brings to a close a period of intense introspection and emotional reckoning with a debut album that serves as both an optimistic statement of intent and a final glance back at the painful places it explores. Following recent work with Blackhaine and Pavel Milyakov, I was born by the sea picks up where Culver’s EP for Italian label Superpang, Post Traumatic Fantasy, leaves off, painting an unabashed portrait of contemporary malaise, detailing a life lived behind closed doors, pinned under the crushing weight of austerity, sapped of the strength to do anything other than gaze out to sea and all the grey possibilities it represents. Where Post Traumatic Fantasy saw Culver returning to his hometown of Hull after a period spent entangled in London’s relentless sprawl, his first full length project reaches further back to his formative years working in a caravan factory and going to raves in and among Hull’s outskirts. Unspooling like a fever dream, I was born by the sea is the anxious clutter of a racing mind spoken clearly, a stark reflection on how it feels to have too many ideas and too much time to act on them.

Though unquestionably a snapshot of a time of significant difficulty, Culver reflects on this period with tender empathy and pitch-black humour, stitching together unflinching observations from England’s neglected corners, ‘there’s more mobility scooter repair shops and bookies than there are bookshops,’ and devastating vignettes of everyday struggle, ‘tears on the tin foil’, with surreal depictions of industrial grit, ‘skimming stones in a small pond by the slaughterhouse’. His DIY approach to production stretches the rough sinew that connects these fragments of memory, a process he describes as using a paired back collection of synths and drum machines to the best of his ability, ‘but to the least of their capabilities,’ wringing out visceral sound with self-taught urgency. During the album’s most impressionistic passages it’s as though Culver has transposed past internal turmoil into powerfully resonant noise, the Sisyphean sonics of ‘Create A Lifestyle Around Your Problems’, which evokes in its concrète clatter and MRI machine barrage the sound of making the same mistake again and again, or the stuttered jumble of ‘Its Hard To Get To Know You,’ its garbled vocal modulation and frayed edges of distortion channeling the paranoia of somebody listening to muffled voices through thin plaster, climbing the walls of their bedroom with the curtains closed, a nervous breakdown in stereo.

In counterpoint to this glides the ever-present spirit of the dance floor, which haunts the record from the moment it is invoked in its first few seconds. Opening onto a sea wall of bright synthesis, the stuttering vocals and bass tone chops of ‘Nervous Energy’ dump us directly into post rave ecstasy, the echoing cry of a voice amplified by loudspeaker carrying the loose energy and surge of crowds moving in darkness. The incessant, dead phone line beep of ‘Pigeon Flesh’ builds to a pulse that suddenly swells into an anxious technoid surge, shapeshifting at lysergic speed into head shrinking audio hallucinations, a descent into the void of the present via machine music hypnosis. Even ‘Its Hard To Get To Know You’ summons the ego death drive of hardcore techno within its scorched textures, flickering indiscernibly between attritional noise and frazzled hardware stomp. Paying homage to both the parties of his youth and a countless succession of Sundays spent offering himself up within Berghain’s hallowed architecture, Culver’s experiments in addressing his formative relationship with rave provide an energetic glimpse at where he might take his sound next.

Between spikes of propulsive energy and grim mood pieces Culver returns to suspended passages of aching, glacial drift, the cold swell of the North Sea, accompanied by some of his heaviest testimonials. The gauzy ebb of ‘Daytime TV,’ its tumbling loops reminiscent of boats bobbing off a distant shore, sees the artist at his most checked out, slumped in front of his television, seven days a week. ‘I used to dream of doing something,’ he admits, ‘anything to get out of this town.’ ‘Love Like An Abscess’ pairs swirling currents of ambient shimmer with violent images of baseball bats lying next to beds and blood-stained mattresses, next to which Culver pleads in a desperate mumble, ‘let our love grow, like a broken abscess.’ Yet it’s with the album’s final word and title track that Culver reveals a glimmer of cautious optimism, a parting gesture of exposition and closure. ‘I knew I had to get away,’ he asserts, ‘so I did and I never looked back.’ What follows builds from a low throb, the flutter of a tiny heartbeat, to a resonant glow, embellished with unfurling synthetic burbles, oil rigs sparkling in the distance, golden light spilling across the sea. In reckoning with the place he had to escape, Richie Culver is now free to look towards the promise of something new, something hopeful.

Written and recorded between 1972 and 1982 in Western Oregon, Back to the Woodlands is a previously unreleased, and nearly lost, album made by Ernest Hood during the same era as his near mythical album Neighborhoods . A visionary combination of field recordings, zithers, and synthesizers, Back to the Woodlands offers an unprecedented depth of access to this singular artistic mind. Born into a musical family, Ernest Hood began a promising career as a jazz guitarist during the 1940s, touring internationally with his brother Bill Hood and the saxophonist Charlie Barnet , before contracting polio in his late twenties. The disease left Ernest unable to play the guitar and confined him to a wheelchair for the rest of his life. It also forced him to adapt and innovate around his musical practices in the face of adversity; Hood's value of sound matured with a remarkably democratic and nonhierarchical approach and application. Taking up the zither, a less physically-demanding stringed instrument to the guitar, embarking upon the unprecedented process of incorporating field recordings into his work as early as 1956, and eventually discovering the synthesizer, Hood's music became imbued with optimism and subtle cultural critique. This ethos and technique - refined over the coming decades - would lay the groundwork for a sprawling body of radio work, mail order recordings for homebound listeners, and Neighborhoods , self- issued as a small vinyl edition in 1975. Where Neighborhoods , a nostalgic opus, drawing from a well of collective memory of the 1950s, is defined by traces of human activity, Back to the Woodlands leaves the modern world behind, delving into Hood's love for nature. Only recently discovered in his archives, the album dramatically expands his concept of "musical cinematography," imagistically triggering states of sensory memory from within its zither and synthesizer melodies, intertwined with field recordings made during Hood's extensive travels throughout Oregon. If Neighborhoods is a retreat into the gauzy joys of a romanticized past, Back to the Woodlands is an immersion in the timeless sanctuary of the natural world. A fascinating counterpoint to its predecessor, Back to the Woodlands brings us even closer to Hood's belief in the transportive qualities of sound; that field recordings could serve as a vehicle for the imagination and liberation, particularly for those with similar mobile disabilities as his own. Across the album's twelve compositions, the rippling instrumental harmonics - shifting between abstraction and playful melody - fold so seamlessly into the birdsong, bubbling brooks, and other environmental ambiences, that they often give the impression of having been recording within the landscapes toward which they whisper. Falling somewhere between the immersive calm of healing music and New Age, the creative field recording practices of sound ecologists world building for Folkways, and the jazz infected ambiences during Obscure / Editions EG's highest heights, Back to the Woodlands sculpts an singular proximity of music for its moment; a form of ambient sonic realism that draws the consciousness toward its surroundings as much as within. Working closely with his estate to maintain his original vision, Freedom to Spend has restored and remastered this never before released, lost masterpiece by Ernest Hood from the original tapes. Ernest Hood's Back to the Woodlands will be issued on vinyl, as well as on CD in combination with its contemporary Where the Woods Begin , with new liner notes by Michael Klausman . On behalf of Ernest Hood and Freedom To Spend, a portion of the proceeds from this release will benefit Oregon Wild, an organization dedicated to protecting and restoring Oregon's wildlands, wildlife, and waters as an enduring legacy for future generations.

A muffled cry into the technological darkness, Contemporary Movement slid into the world right as the MP3 was seeping out of college dorms. A 39-minute drift into the void, drenched in Cold War-era reverb and then submerged in four track hiss for good measure. Duster constructed a Brutalist masterpiece on the outskirts of a suburban mall, as if to say, “We were here.”

“Music for dark spaces and closed eyelids, deeply psychedelic but without sprawl, ambient music with a serrated edge of punk.”—The Ringer

“Warm, fuzzed-out sounds that hit home like a tight, melancholic embrace from your favorite person.”—Vice

A muffled cry into the technological darkness, Contemporary Movement slid into the world right as the MP3 was seeping out of college dorms. A 39-minute drift into the void, drenched in Cold War-era reverb and then submerged in four track hiss for good measure. Duster constructed a Brutalist masterpiece on the outskirts of a suburban mall, as if to say, “We were here.”

“Music for dark spaces and closed eyelids, deeply psychedelic but without sprawl, ambient music with a serrated edge of punk.”—The Ringer

“Warm, fuzzed-out sounds that hit home like a tight, melancholic embrace from your favorite person.”—Vice

Black Vinyl

Endlich können die Millionen Fans von "Stranger Things" ihre Leidenschaft für ihre Lieblingsserie durch den Kauf von physischen Produkten (vor allem LPs, aber auch CDs und sogar Kassetten, eine Anspielung auf die 80er Jahre als zentrales Thema der Serie) zum Ausdruck bringen! Noch mehr als in den vorherigen Staffeln spielt die Musik eine wichtige Rolle in der Erzählung, insbesondere das Kate-Bush-Phänomen "Running up that hill", das natürlich im Soundtrack enthalten ist, sowie "Pass The Dutchie" von Musical Youth und "You Spin Me Round" von Dead or Alive, die in den ersten Episoden sehr auffällig waren. Supererwartetes Kultprodukt: Vorbestellungsstart am 1. Juli, wenn die zweite Hälfte von Staffel 4 startet. Enfin les millions de fans de "Stranger Things" vont pouvoir matérialiser leur passion pour leur série préférée en achetant en physique (surtout le LP, mais aussi le CD et même la cassette, clin d'oeil aux 80's thème central de la série) ! Plus encore que pour les saisons précédentes la musique joue un role prépondérant dans la narration avec en particulier le phénomène Kate Bush « Running up that hill » évidemment présent sur la BOF ainsi que Pass The Dutchie de Musical Youth, You Spin Me Round de Dead or Alive très remarqués dans les premiers épisodes. Produit culte super attendu : lancement de précommande à ne pas manquer pour le 1er juillet, date de lancement de la 2e partie de la saison 4.

No Way Out is the classic rap album helmed by Puff Daddy and featuring his Family of labelmates and trusted collaborators from across the Bad Boy universe and the music industry at large. Debuting in the Summer of 1997, the Grammy Award winning album sold well over half a million copies in its first week of release—securing the Number One spot on the Billboard 200 chart. It also spawned several Billboard Hot 100 singles, including the international chart-topping Biggie tribute “I’ll Be Missing You” which sat in the top spot for 11 consecutive weeks and has the distinction of being the first ever rap song to debut at Number One on the Hot 100 chart.

Originally conceived as an ode to Harlem and a nod to the mob narratives of Scorsese and Puzzo, Puff changed course (and album titles!) following the death of his friend and fellow Bad Boy artist The Notorious BIG. Assembling a powerhouse production team of rotating talent known collectively as “The Hitmen” and stowing away to Trinidad, they spent weeks expanding on the project. What came of those sessions were not only major hit records for No Way Out, but also tracks that appear on Life After Death and various other Bad Boy releases throughout the late 90’s.

Since his debut 25 years ago as a bona fide solo artist, Diddy has gone on to develop countless other talented performers and produce a myriad of projects that reach beyond music into fashion, film and television. Yet and still, No Way Out—which has been RIAA certified 7x Platinum—remains one of Puffy’s most successful, highest grossing albums to date.

After a year of releases exploring recent musics from the USA, Europe and the southern hemisphere the Horn of Plenty presents a survey of archival private, demo, and live tapes from local avant-anarcho-punks The Apostles. The tapes were (poorly) recorded in Islington & Hackney squats between 1981-1983 and they capture the fledgling band exploring various line-up’s, styles & techniques with limited means and ability. In 1983 The Apostles released their first vinyl EP and switched mainly to a more straight-ahead anarcho-punk style. They gained a strong following then called it a day in 1989. Their vinyl output is still regarded highly by fans and collectors and their ‘official’ demo tapes have become highly sought-after, particularly since being namechecked by Ty Segall in a 2014 interview. In a 2009 article charting the band’s history (frontman) Andy Martin gives these early tapes a mere footnote and states that, in his opinion, they are ‘Best Forgotten’. With respect Andy, I beg to differ. Best Forgotten shows the band grappling with the political, racial and cultural tensions of the time whilst exploring radical politics and issues around homosexuality and mental health. Their sympathies with The Angry Brigade’s ‘direct action’ ethos extended to their involvement with the squatted Centro Iberico and The Wapping Autonomy Centre where they worked closely with Crass, Poison Girls, Flux of Pink Indians and The Mob among others. Viewed retrospectively, it’s easy to draw comparisons with early Fall records, The Door and The Window etc… but also at their melodic best they echo 60’s beat groups and even 70’s blues-rock. A keen interest in tape collage (supplied here by Ian Rawes who later became established with his London Sound Survey project) and the avant garde also inform the mix. Highlights include a bleak reworking of Lemon Kittens’ Chalet D’Amour and a live version of Simon & Garfunkel's I Am A Rock segueing into their take on Alternative TV’s Splitting In Two recorded at The Recession Club in Ponsford Street, Hackney. The short-lived Recession Club, which The Apostles co-ran and where Andy Martin worked the door, also hosted the first ever Coil concert. On that night he refused entry to Death In June on account of their ‘inappropriate attire’. Best Forgotten comes in a hand stamped, stickered and assembled edition of 500 copies and includes an A3 poster and 32 page A4 zine collecting archival photos and images from The Apostles tapes & zines along with liner notes and reflections on the tracks written by Steve Underwood (Harbinger Sound), Chris Low (former Apostles drummer) and The Apostles frontman Andy Martin, who thought this whole thing was daft.

Freedom is both an integral and multi-layered topic for improvised music, describing its mechanics, aesthetics, and values and often an underlying political dimension as well. In the case of free jazz specifically, the word carries additional weight given the music's deep connection to the black liberation movement of the 1960's and 70's.

The passionate and unclassifiable work of Calgary-based improviser Jairus Sharif embraces each of these definitions of freedom and others, albeit strictly on its own personal and idiosyncratic terms. Since early 2020, the 34 year-old autodidact has been generating a steady stream of homespun solo recordings that forge unprecedented connections between hip-hop abstraction, cosmic skronk, outsider jazz, and staunch post-punk DIY ethos.

Leading up to the pandemic, Sharif's immersion in spiritual and exploratory jazz had culminated in him deciding to purchase an alto saxophone. Unbeknownst to him this instrument would be a catalyst for him to discover his own ardently individualistic artistic voice.

Prior to that point, he had always been somewhat of a solitary musical traveler. In 2002, he acquired his first instrument—a pair of Technics 1200s — but struggled to find local collaborators that had equal investment in hip hop culture. Ultimately, Sharif picked up the guitar, turning to the resilient local punk community, that had also nurtured both of his mothers some time earlier.

As Black Lives Matter gained momentum in the wake of George Floyd's murder, Sharif was suddenly flooded with an acute awareness of his own identity. It compelled him to zealously plunge headlong into open-ended spontaneous solo creation. Water & Tools, his strange and stirring debut for Toronto's Telephone Explosion Records (home to full-lengths from the likes of Brodie West's Eucalyptus, Mas Aya, and Joseph Shabason), offers a glimpse into this ongoing hermetic journey.

As Sharif dedicated himself to uncovering his own deeper musical truths, he assembled a home studio in his basement, cobbling together a drum kit from bits his bandmate had left at his house pre-pandemic, chaining effects together and outfitting the entire space with microphones. Somewhere between the chaos of child's treehouse and the tidy import of a shrine, this space (pictured on the album's back cover) consecrated his own imagination. He laid it out to maximize access to any and every tool in his arsenal, providing him a freedom to explore that he had never permitted himself to consummate before.

Within this cozy private universe, his recent purchase—the saxophone—assumed new meaning. It furnished a tangible connection to the black radicalism that mobilized free jazz, but also something far more personal. From a technical standpoint, the instrument was completely unfamiliar to him, yet rather than this being a hindrance to Sharif, his inexperience opened fruitful path forward, unencumbered by preconceptions. Resolving to shirk formal training, convention, and build his own understanding of it from scratch, allowed him to access his most raw, fundamental creative impulses. The Saxophone's inseverable bond with breath compounded this effect, echoing revelatory discoveries he had been making about breathing through yoga, research, and psychotherapy. Of course, the parallels with BLM's harrowing rallying cry—“I can't breathe”—were not lost on him either.

Water & Tools is a dense, contradictory statement with a blustery surface that shelters a soulful heart. It's generous music, exuding profound vulnerability—grappling with the loss of one his mothers, Lisa—all the while brimming with electric wide-eyed wonder. Almost every one of the nine pieces seems to carry some semblance of a groove, while remaining completely untethered from pulse. For Sharif, this collection is an expression of newfound lucidity, however for the listener his sonic concoctions act as powerful psychotropics. At points, there's a timelessness that's conveyed through the music's processional, ritualistic tenor, and yet there's an endless amount of wild, futuristic detail waiting to unspool at any given moment. Similarly, while this recording emerges from Sharif's private pilgrimage and personal emancipation, he also leaves room for collaboration. Woven throughout Sharif's one-man-ensemble textures, one finds Maxmilian Turnbull (of Badge Epoque, U.S. Girls, and Cosmic Range infamy) providing sundry keyboards and treatments, as well as his mixing skills.

Whether conjuring effusive psychedelia or plumbing introspective depths, the music that Jairus Sharif produces is singular, visceral, and wondrously unpredictable. Water & Tools sketches a raw, firsthand account of his nascent explorations within his own unbridled imagination.

Some of the greatest jazz musicians of all time have passed through Art Blakey's Jazz Messengers: Horace Silver, Hank Mobley, Kenny Dorham, Wayne Shorter and Donald Byrd, among many others. However brief their stay, working with the demanding and full-throttle drummer not only increased their visibility, but also their chops and interpretive capacity. Blakey's ability to drum up the best players in the game may have even eclipsed his superhuman ability to play drums.

Altoist Jackie McLean, trumpeter Bill Hardman, bassist Spanky deBrest, and pianist Sam Dockery deliver whole-bop goodness on five propulsive, fiery tracks. True to its title, this LP bops hard, with a ferocious swing, boundless energy and telepathic communication between players - especially Blakey and Hardman. Considering the rhythmic demands of Blakey's locomotive playing style, this was an incredible achievement.

Impex Records has cut this gorgeous 180-gram LP with the original analogue mono master tapes and without computer processing of any kind. You hear all the vivacious interplay that occurred on that weekend in 1957 when Blakey and crew forged a bold new vision of muscular, funky jazz. This is music that still resonates over 50 years later. Not to be missed!

"Under This Hunger Moon We Fell" is the new album from the uniquely talented, multi-instrumental artificer Lomond Campbell, the third and final instalment of his experiments using tape loops at the heart of his music making process. Campbell notes that "as the album was nearing completion there was a particularly dramatic Supermoon called a Hunger Moon. Apparently it has this name because it occurs right at the end of winter, when predators are at their most lethal and desperate, and those seen as less powerful are preyed upon". These themes can be clearly heard on an album that feels cold and bleak in tandem with moments of vulnerability and tenderness. "Under This Hunger Moon We Fell" stalks from the shadows with a natural, quiet confidence before exploring more carnal heaviness and occasionally brutal displays of dramatic tension. It meditates in cycles and is at both times predator and prey, conveying the balance of these relationships with its cinematic compositions. The album ranges from soft, delicate atmospheric musings such as "Bastard Wing" and "Leave Only Love Behind" to the dark electronics of "And They Are Afraid Of Her" and "Phonon For No One", which Campbell describes as "akin to a massive machine starting up, like a huge sinister power mobilising". During its gloomier moments, "Under This Hunger Moon We Fell" buries tonally ambiguous ambience underneath hazy, distorted textures created via the gradual degradation of the tape. It creates a dream-like backdrop with a moody undertone created by deep basslines and hulking percussive elements, blended with orchestral sounds that add an air of humanity. Although his music is grounded in sound it often incorporates sculpture, engineering, product design and visual art. Using a combination of hardware hacking and industrial manufacturing techniques, Lomond builds his own unique instruments and devices for creating sound which he combines with modular synths, piano and voice. The album also sees Campbell"s vocal debut on "For The Uncarved", having originally written the part for a friend. "I was supposed to be recording her album in my studio The Lengths, but she was struck down with Covid so the session was scrapped. It felt like the album needed some kind of human element so I resorted to singing the part myself". "Under This Hunger Moon We Fell" concludes a trio of albums using tape loops, which was kickstarted with an email from Lomond"s long-time friend and collaborator King Creosote. He was looking for a custom tape looping machine so Lomond set about designing and building a unique music machine, inspired by Reich and Basinski, that plays 10 second tape loops which disintegrate over time as they pass near a rotating magnetic disc. Campbell built and then tested the machine by recording a series of improvisations with it which became LUP, the first album in the trilogy.