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For this uniquely personal retrospective spread over twelve vinyl discs, Sven Väth takes us back to the early days of his DJ career. On What I Used To Play we meet great pioneers of electronic music, gifted percussionists, obscure wave bands, and innovative producers of a bygone 'new electronic' era. Rough beats and irresistible grooves from the identification stage of house, techno, and acid remind us not just how far electronic music has evolved over the past four decades, but how great it was to dance to EBM, techno, and house for the very first time.

If there is one protagonist of the electronic music scene who has remained curious, innovative and at the very cutting edge of music for over four decades, it's Sven Väth. His multi-layered artist albums and Sound of the Season mix compilations have been defining the genre for over two decades, and even today, he is constantly on the lookout for the next top tune to add to the highlights of his next set. At least, that's the case when he's not producing them himself as an artist or remixer. "Actually, it's always been part of my DNA to think ahead," and nothing had been further from his mind than looking back at his past, but when in spring of 2020 the international DJ circuit had to be scaled down to virtually zero, the 'restless traveler' suddenly had time. Time to stop and reflect on "how it actually was back then, at the very beginning of my career..."

"It was a great trip and with every track, beautiful memories came flooding back".
In the London apartment, he had just moved into, Sven has set up a "little music room", where he cocooned himself for several days, "to look way back for the first time and review my musical journey through the eighties, so to speak."

The interim result was six thematically oriented playlists with a grand total of 120 tracks from 'early 80s' to 'Balearic late 80s', together with excursions into afrobeat, European new wave, and EBM sounds and a few epochal techno/house tracks from the USA in between. From these 'Best of Sven Väth's favorites', the project What I Used To Play crystallized. Sven remembers how the Cocoon team reacted to his proposal: "They found the idea of making a compilation out of it MEGA from the beginning and everyone said 'Sven, go for it', but then, of course, the work really started, namely, to clear the rights and to get clean sounding masters of the up to 40-year-old tracks. There was also disappointment, of course. We couldn't clear certain titles because the rights holders in the USA had fallen out with each other or simply disappeared from the scene. In short, it wasn't easy, but now I can safely say we got the most important tracks."

Finally, after two years of research, curation, design, and administrative fine-tuning, the "little retrospective" from 1981 to 1990 is available. The exquisitely packaged, and three-kilo heavy box set is not only physically impressive, WIUTP is also the definitive record of Sven Väth's musical development. On each of the twenty-four sides of vinyl, you can trace track by track, what influenced him during which phase, and how he took off as a DJ from his parents' Queen's Pub straight into the spotlight at Dorian Gray. There and at Vogue (later OMEN), Sven became the style-defining player in the DJ booth that he still is today.




1981 - 1990: Future Sounds of Now

In the early eighties, the crowd in clubs like Vogue and Dorian Gray danced to what nowadays we call 'dance classics' - mainly disco, funk, soul, and chart pop. It was up to a new generation of DJs, including Sven Väth, the youngest protagonist in the Rhine-Main area at the time, to create their own club-ready music mix. Good new tracks and potential floor-fillers were rarities that had to be sought out and found, in order to prove oneself worthy.
Without MP3s, internet streaming, or other digital download possibilities, music didn't just gravitate to the DJ, instead, it had to be tracked down. In well-stocked record stores in Frankfurt and Wiesbaden or even in Amsterdam, London, or New York, Sven and friends sourced the material for countless magical nights. On WIUTP we can follow Sven's very personal journey through this wild, innovative era in which synth-pop, funk, hip-hop, and disco were successively replaced as 'club music' by house, techno, acid, and breakbeat. By the end of the decade, it was clear to see that these once exotic 'fringe' phenomena would soon become 'mass' phenomena.



Early 80s

Dirty Talk by the Italian-American duo Klein & M.B.O. represents the most innovative phase of the Italo-disco genre in the early eighties like no other track. Mario Boncaldo (I) and Tony Carrasco relied entirely on the original synthetic drum and percussion sounds of the Roland TR-808, coupled with the raunchy vocals of Rossana Casale and guitar accents of Davide Piatto. Of course, other tracks from this period were also influential in style, most notably Unit by Logic System, which worked as the perfect soundtrack to the laser lighting system at the legendary Dorian Gray club. With stomping beats and robotic rap interludes, Bostich by Yello also belongs on Sven's eternal playlist - after all, it caught the attention of Afrikaa Bambaataa, who invited the Swiss duo to perform at the Roxy in New York in 1983.



EBM Wave - Mid 80s

From today's point of view, the almost ten-minute-long, downtempo track Giant by Matt Johnson's band project The The, would probably not be considered an obvious club classic. However, a closer (re)listen reveals the rhythmic intricacies of the percussion overdubs by JG Thirlwell (aka Foetus) on Johnson's composition, and it becomes clear why this exceptional piece of music is one of Sven's absolute favorites. Other classics from this phase include Kaw-Liga by the mysterious The Residents, the hypnotic-synthetic Our Darkness by Anne Clark (and David Harrow), and last but not least, the somber, monotonous anthem Where Are You? by 16Bit, one of Sven Väth's projects together with Michael Münzing, Luca Anzilotti from 1986.



US House - Late 80s

You certainly can't talk about Chicago house without mentioning Frankie Knuckles. The resident DJ at the Warehouse not only gave the name to an entire genre, but also produced epochal floor fillers on the Trax label like the timeless Your Love, sung (and moaned) by Jamie Principle. Acid house protagonists Phuture also hail from Chicago, and on We Are Phuture (also released on Trax) we hear the chirping acid sounds of the legendary Roland TB-303 in full effect. Another featured classic is No UFO's by Detroit's Model 500 aka Juan Atkins, who is rightly considered the 'Godfather of Techno' even if the genre-defining track from 1985 still breathes with the spirit of hip-hop and electro from the first breakdance era.





Afrobeat

Le Serpent, by Algerian-born Abdelmadjid Guemguem, is a track that sounds completely different from everything else on WIUTP. Made in 1978, it's a monumental, rousing groove created without bass or synths, just with five congas! Even though Guem sadly passed away in 2021, his immortal, acoustic beats are understood all over the world and will continue to enrich many thousands of DJ sets for years to come. Another classic that not only Sven appreciates beyond measure is Hugh Masekela's Don't Go Lose it, Baby. In addition to being one of the most important jazz pioneers, the trumpeter and freedom fighter from Johannesburg was very experimental, integrating electronic sounds into his music in later years, in a similar vein to Miles Davis and Herbie Hancock. Dutch jazz pianist Jasper van't Hof's afrobeat project Pili Pili has also aged well. The trance-like, almost sixteen-minute-long track of the same name, manages to fill a whole side on the seventh of twelve vinyl discs in the WIUTP box.



UK-US-Euro - Late 80s

Time for a change of scene, in the truest sense of the word, and from a musical perspective, this section is like landing on another planet. First up is Andrew Weatherall's classic remix of Primal Scream's Loaded, featuring the iconic Peter Fonda sample (lifted from the 1966 biker film Wild Angels) that came to personify the mood triggered by the British Second Summer of Love in the late eighties: "We wanna be free to do what we wanna do, and we wanna get loaded...". This period also saw the emergence of M/A/R/R/S whose only single, 1987's Pump Up The Volume, became a club classic with support from DJ legend CJ Mackintosh. In this most eclectic of sections, we also encounter New York house and reggae producer Bobby Konders and his seminal Nervous Acid.



Balearic - Late 80s

Those who know him, know that Sven had already lost his heart to the 'magic island' of Ibiza as a teenager, so with that in mind, the WIUTP project couldn't end without a Balearic chapter. Inspired by Manuel Göttsching's E2-E4, the immortal, eponymously titled Sueño Latino belongs in there without question. Equally popular on the island was, and still is Break 4 Love by Raze, which thinking about it, would also fit perfectly into the house chapter. Last, but not least, there's an overdue reunion with Sven Väth himself, in his role as frontman of the successful Frankfurt trio OFF. Together with Michael Münzing and Luca Anzilotti (later of Snap!) this 'Organization For Fun' created the off-the-wall club hit Electric Salsa in 1986 which incidentally turned into an international chart smash, putting Sven in the enviable position of having to decide between pop stardom and a DJ career. Well, we all know how that decision turned out and the rest, as they say, is history. A not insignificant part of his story is What I Used To Play. Enjoy!

Bernard Szajner is a French composer, musical theorist, visual artist. He is credited with the invention of the laser harp, which he patented.

Between 1979 and 1983, Szajner released five albums of innovative and Avant-garde electronic music. He became renowned as a light and visual effects technician with artists such as Magma, Gong, Stomu Yamashta and The Who.

During the 1970s, he became a pioneer in the field of using laser technology as an artistic tool. As a measure of his success, he became renowned by his work with companies such as Cartier and Renault. In 1980, inspired by the novel, Nova, by Samuel R. Delany, he first created the laser harp. The laser harp became so successful that Jean-Michel Jarre ordered a version from Bernard Szajner for his tour of China. Despite all this, Szajner would only occasionally use this instrument in his own performances. He has stated that he would rather the public not know him solely for his work on the laser harp, and that it not be allowed to take precedence over his work in musical composition that it enables. This is also why he continues to develop other instruments which use other innovative methods of interaction, such as tactile or holographic.

Towards the end of the 1980s and disgusted with the music industry, he chose to abandon music entirely, and shifted his focus towards digital and visual arts, and theatre.

From Bernard Szajner : “These tracks are my preferred ones .... Ever ! ... For a long time I've been waiting for a record label to release what corresponds to what I like playing these days... Until Sleepers records decided to release this compilation which contains most of the tracks I enjoy playing live on stage ! At last my wish is fulfilled !”

Sampled by Dr.Dre and Jay-Z, cult combo CALIBRO 35 release the new studio album "DECADE" and celebrate 10 years.

Italian super cult combo CALIBRO 35 release their 6th much awaited studio album "DECADE" on February the 9th 2018. "DECADE" marks 10 years of Calibro 35's releases and it's the very first album recorded by Calibro with an orchestral-inspired enlarged line-up that features horns, strings and percussions. Mixed and recorded by CALIBRO's usual suspect and Grammy Award winner Tommaso Colliva, on the album all the influences collected by the band during their last ten years' journey like music, collaborations, movies, gigs, books find their space. "DECADE" is CALIBRO 35's "time capsule" and is as rare and complex as a timeless work.

Musically CALIBRO 35's inner influences like Ennio Morricone, listen for instance to the epic journey of the album's end credits "Travelers", Luis Bacalov and David Axelrod are still there but are now mixed with elements from afrobeat or cosmic jazz. "Psycheground" sounds like Tony Allen involved in writing a score for a vintage Hollywood production while Sun Ra lurks on "Modo". Everything is mixed up with new influences from modern musical languages. References to Jaga Jazzist, Budos Band or Alternative Jazz and Alternative Hip Hop new acts such as Makaya McCraven, Yussef Kamaal, Oddisee can all be found on the album. In tracks such as "Modulor "you realize that Decade is certainly not a point of arrival and expresses the ambition of the band to look further and evolve. All classic Calibro's vintage instruments such as clavinet, eco, analog synths, fuzz guitars are now supported by new ones such as Dan Bau, Balafon and Waterphone ("Polymeri") in the band's new wall of sound. Thanks to the enlarged line-up and the orchestrated parts involved, which pushed the band to experiment new methods of composition, Calibro 35 on "DECADE" sound strong, full and tight as never before.

Active since 2008 CALIBRO 35 enjoys a worldwide reputation as one of the coolest independent band around. During their ten years career, they have been sampled by Dr. Dre on his Compton album, Jay-Z Love Child & Damon Albarn, they shared stages worldwide with the likes of Roy Ayers, Muse, Sun Ra Arkestra, Sharon Jones, Thundercat, Headhunters and as unique musicians they've collaborated with, amongst others PJ Harvey, Mike Patton, John Parish and Stewart Copeland and Nic Cester (The Jet). Described by Rolling Stone magazine's as "the most fascinating, retro-maniac and genuine thing, that happened to Italy in the last years", Calibro 35 now count on a number of aficionados worldwide which includes VIP's fans such as Dj Food (Ninja Tune), Mr Scruff and Huey Morgan (Fun Lovin' Criminals) among others.

There is a hush most of us only knew as children, the warm drift between familiar household sounds and being carried to bed, a place that belongs to you and to some self you have not met yet. June McDoom’s debut full-length, Follow the Light, lives in that dream space and then keeps walking, slipping out of time and waking somewhere new, barely familiar enough to feel like home yet wholly your own. She came up in a Jamaican household on the edge of the Florida Everglades, an existence built of extended family, communal care, bass and harmonics. Her father, a carpenter and a student of sound, built his own speakers and kept three sound systems going across as many rooms. His low end would rise through her bedroom floor like some wayward cat while she lay above it with folk records, finding harmonies that were new and hers alone. Two musics in one room. Lushness as past and premonition. She found folk on her own, somewhere between the cast recording of The Sound of Music and Simon and Garfunkel, while everyone around her called it sleepy music. She did not mind being the only one. The solitude let her fall for harmony first, before words, before anything else, and harmony is still the thing she reaches for. Generationally speaking, the music was already in the air. Her grandfather, Colin Smith, is a distinguished mento man who played banjo and guitar and built his own rumba boxes, worked to keep Jamaica’s oldest acoustic folk form alive. Mento is the root of all of it: ska, rock steady, reggae, dub and everything after. He is the one who put a guitar in her hands. An inheritance, a gift and a map. Even her name is part of it, though she will tell you she landed on it more by feel than reason. She records as June McDoom, born Alyssa, June being a nickname one of her grandmothers, Joan, went by, a name she thought was cool to carry and simply liked the sound of. An etheric channel that reverberates all the same. A dub all its own.


Made slowly and by hand with her longtime partner Evan Wright, Follow the Light lays the harmony of folk over the rhythm of dub, with Dionne Warwick, Minnie Riperton, Pentangle and the washed guitars of Cocteau Twins haunting its outer edges. Voice and guitar seeking each other out first, then everything else stacked across long days in the studio they keep at home, restraint kept on purpose. The lead single “Without You” is the whole method surfacing, split open and sparkling like a geode in a creek bed. Angelic heroics, and nothing less.


At the heart is family. Her grandmother Aggie, the light behind “Memory,” guiding still. And underneath, the quieter truth the record keeps: none of us are only one person, but a continuum of selves, the ones who shaped us and the ones we have yet to meet. Future you is an ancestor your current self gets to greet. Press play and the same invitation is yours: A few minutes out of time, a place that turns familiar the longer you stay until you surface somewhere new and find it was yours all along

There is a hush most of us only knew as children, the warm drift between familiar household sounds and being carried to bed, a place that belongs to you and to some self you have not met yet. June McDoom’s debut full-length, Follow the Light, lives in that dream space and then keeps walking, slipping out of time and waking somewhere new, barely familiar enough to feel like home yet wholly your own. She came up in a Jamaican household on the edge of the Florida Everglades, an existence built of extended family, communal care, bass and harmonics. Her father, a carpenter and a student of sound, built his own speakers and kept three sound systems going across as many rooms. His low end would rise through her bedroom floor like some wayward cat while she lay above it with folk records, finding harmonies that were new and hers alone. Two musics in one room. Lushness as past and premonition. She found folk on her own, somewhere between the cast recording of The Sound of Music and Simon and Garfunkel, while everyone around her called it sleepy music. She did not mind being the only one. The solitude let her fall for harmony first, before words, before anything else, and harmony is still the thing she reaches for. Generationally speaking, the music was already in the air. Her grandfather, Colin Smith, is a distinguished mento man who played banjo and guitar and built his own rumba boxes, worked to keep Jamaica’s oldest acoustic folk form alive. Mento is the root of all of it: ska, rock steady, reggae, dub and everything after. He is the one who put a guitar in her hands. An inheritance, a gift and a map. Even her name is part of it, though she will tell you she landed on it more by feel than reason. She records as June McDoom, born Alyssa, June being a nickname one of her grandmothers, Joan, went by, a name she thought was cool to carry and simply liked the sound of. An etheric channel that reverberates all the same. A dub all its own.


Made slowly and by hand with her longtime partner Evan Wright, Follow the Light lays the harmony of folk over the rhythm of dub, with Dionne Warwick, Minnie Riperton, Pentangle and the washed guitars of Cocteau Twins haunting its outer edges. Voice and guitar seeking each other out first, then everything else stacked across long days in the studio they keep at home, restraint kept on purpose. The lead single “Without You” is the whole method surfacing, split open and sparkling like a geode in a creek bed. Angelic heroics, and nothing less.


At the heart is family. Her grandmother Aggie, the light behind “Memory,” guiding still. And underneath, the quieter truth the record keeps: none of us are only one person, but a continuum of selves, the ones who shaped us and the ones we have yet to meet. Future you is an ancestor your current self gets to greet. Press play and the same invitation is yours: A few minutes out of time, a place that turns familiar the longer you stay until you surface somewhere new and find it was yours all along

*COMES IN GATEFOLD 2LP WITH LINER NOTES*

The premise of this compilation is simple: music we’d like to hear at the airport.

The idea came after learning that Honolulu’s international airport has been playing AI-generated music over its speakers since November 2025. First reported by Civil Beat, the news has caused frustration and disappointment among residents and visitors, as well as within the local music community.

Everyone knows Hawaii is one of the most musically rich regions in the world — why then is the airport using AI music? 'Music For The Airport' is our response.

Located in the middle of the Pacific at the outskirts of one the most remote cities on the planet, Honolulu’s Daniel K. Inouye International Airport (HNL) is for most people the first place they encounter when they arrive in Hawaii. Warm sun, tropical tradewinds, playful palm trees and majestic mountains welcome every traveler, as do the sounds of birds, familiar music from Hawaiian artists like Aunty Genoa Keawe and Israel Kamakawiwo’ole, and—at least for now—seventeen “island-themed” AI-generated songs.

In late 1977, while sitting in Germany’s Cologne Bonn Airport on a Sunday morning, Brian Eno noticed how terribly uncomfortable he felt hearing the airport’s “muzak” overhead. For a harried, hurried place like the airport where travelers scramble to their gates, stand in long border control lines, and wait impatiently for their luggage at the carousels, music can create more anxiety than calm. Asking himself, "What should we be hearing here?", Eno soon created ‘Ambient 1: Music For Airports’, a sonic remedy aimed at reducing nervousness in public spaces.

When we heard the news that HNL airport is playing AI-generated “muzak”, we were immediately reminded of Eno’s genre-defying 1978 album. And we were similarly inspired to react. But how? Recreating an ambient masterpiece wasn’t in our wheelhouse. We started digging through our catalog of licensed music which we haven’t yet re-released. We quickly realized this was our chance to highlight some of favorite songs from the so-called CD era: the 1990s and 2000s (with a few exceptions). In less than 20 minutes, we pulled 17 original songs recorded by local artists between 1984 and 2017.

The speed at which this project came together surprised us; reactionary gut instinct often produces swift and lasting results. Ironically, our new compilation likely took less time than it did for the state Department of Transportation to commission its AI songs in question. But even though ‘Music for the Airport’ came together in less than one week, the truth is that this collection of 17 songs is the result of years of hard work, trust, sacrifice, patience, and understanding. Building relationships with and licensing music from artists doesn’t happen overnight, but more importantly: these songs are the result of people pouring their hearts and souls into something they believe in. This music wouldn’t exist today without the artists and their loved ones who supported them along the way.

As of this writing, the DOT states its intention in creating AI-generated songs is to “highlight different aspects of the islands, aviation and the airport” and that “no state funds were used to produce them”. Okay, but at what cost? Technology disrupting the music industry isn’t news to anyone. AI music in public spaces are cost-saving measures, since its users (airports, for example) don’t have to pay the licensing fees typically required, which can be a worthwhile source of revenue for artists. But what happens when a place like HNL airport, which hosts more than 21 million passengers annually, uses music created by machines instead of people to represent Hawaii? The identity of a place beings to erode, diluted by a language learning model’s conceptual summary of what a people and its culture sounds like. To echo Brian Eno: what should we be hearing here? In other words: what should the music of Hawaii sound like?

We believe in the power of music, especially when it comes from the soul. We believe in supporting artists, especially as AI disrupts our lives. We believe that Hawaii must be represented authentically, especially when it comes to song. And of course we believe in vinyl, especially since it was a record from 1978 (Mackey Feary Band’s debut LP) that inspired Aloha Got Soul’s origins in 2010.

We hope you find as much joy in this compilation as we have. Perhaps it’ll soundtrack your next journey to Hawaii. At the very least, we hope some people take a moment to hear these sounds: in your headphones for now‚ maybe someday overhead at the airport in Honolulu.

The unconscious element to the conscious process.

The practice of dub techno and its tendrils is a fundamental for me, both aesthetically and from an engineering perspective.

I start every recording session with a dub inspired jam, the first piece I ever recorded in 1996 was an effort to recreate Phylyps Trak with only a Korg X3 and an Ibanez PUE5 (borrowed from Gary Howell). It was an awesome introduction to jamming, and the footing stones of noise, delay and saturation were explored with my foot hard on the enthusiasm pedal.

These practice jams are in some sense cathartic, the first step taken again & again, which helps me move forwards each session and additionally helps to 'warm the circuits' both of myself and the machines.

After realising the genius of Basic Channel is akin to the genius of peasant food, using every ingredient with nothing left to waste, (up to and including the oft maligned working noise of the machines themselves), this was a watershed moment for my own subjective progression. No longer tied to just emulation of something inspiring, but taking these learned tools into other areas of music helped to break free from a strong current of influence and also to progress into other areas with the new toolbox.

Dub:

The importance of the dub pioneers should never be understated, in modern music and my own practice. Yet with my initial inspiration being two german dudes issuing extreme techno variants with obscured label designs, who then signposted their listeners to their own inspirations (via their Wackies re-issues or nodded to on their Rhythm & Sound/Burial Mix sub-labels), meant that I started late and travelled backwards.

Learning to notice the live mixing of Mikey Dread or Lee Perry when the faders are bleeding through even when turned down, (echoed in BC's Quadrant Dub), or the brash send effects literally thrown into the mix also taught me that 'rough' mixing can inject a recording with life, uniqueness and the most right wrongness. Looking back Basic Channels very few elements helped me realise that the rules to be understood, are also the best ones to be broken.

Push the mixer into the red.

Amp that noise up from the tape delay cos it sounds sick.

Pseudo side-chain effects cos the kicks are way too loud and the mixer can't sum it nicely.

Spam the send knob into the delay units now, now and now.

Carelessness.

Noise:

Once I wrapped my head around the intrinsic 'noise' element that set those records apart, this became a torchlight into the alt noise movements which I was tentatively exploring at the time, and also is evidently a connection or thread into them.

Whether the Industrial/Post Punk UK scene (This Heat, TG, A Tent, F.E.) or the prolific output of the US Noise scene (Wolf Eyes, Live & Shave in LA, and subsequently following the lineage all the way back to Chrome's Alien Soundtracks), I had finally discovered a connection from techno to this 'free for all' corner of music.

This input from the Noise arena of sound is, in my experience, an all important step for a sonic artist, taking it's roots and extending out from Stockhausen/Pierre Henry and utilised/warped/mangled by thousands of adventurous pioneers ever since, I now see the line separating the high brow and the low brow is actually an artery carrying information from the head to the heart.

Vault is a selection of these jams that precede each of my solo recording sessions, for 30 years I've recorded hundreds of these 'workouts'. They are never intended as serious statements, just moments of naive enjoyment, yet most importantly they are time & space captured as practice.

The objective is always a warm up exercise, but sometimes those exercises turn a different corner, with a certain focus or direction dependent on what random samples are left in my machines from the previous session, instead of conscious choices, these unconscious elements can facilitate those 'positive mistakes' that make a piece of sound retain a different feel or colour and thus become special, or at least special to the creator.

I am quite conscious that the 'record everything' aspect of my ethos has been invaluable in cataloguing and saving these jams, while the attitude of carelessness during this process (after all, it's only a warm up jam) invites more enjoyment than seriousness ever could. Even if you don't feel the piece at the time, record it, because some years later it may well fit, or become relevant in a way you never intended.

-Miles

Pioneering Ghanaian musician King Ayisobareturns September 4, 2026 with his forthcoming seventh album Pure Confusion, recorded and produced by On-U-Sound’s Adrian Sherwood.

Ayisoba is one of Ghana’s most distinctive musical voices. The world’s foremost player of the kologo - a homemade two-string lute fashioned from a calabash and covered in goatskin - he delivers fiercely political and socially observant songs using three different voices, including the voice of his grandfather that possessed him as a child. Sherwood meanwhile is the pioneering British producer and founder of On-U Sound whose hugely influential career has connected dub, post-punk, industrial, hip hop and experimental music through collaborations with artists including Lee “Scratch” Perry, Mark Stewart, Horace Andy, Sinéad O’Connor, Nine Inch Nails and Depeche Mode.

Ayisoba and Sherwood first collaborated during a BBC Radio 3 Late Junction session at Maida Vale in 2017, organised by Ayisoba’s long-time collaborator Arnold de Boer/Zea of The Ex. The pair immediately connected, and during the pandemic, when Adrian’s long-time African Head Charge collaborator Bonjo Iyabinghi Noah was in Ghana looking for musicians to collaborate with Sherwood suggested Ayisoba, who eventually featured on two tracks on African Head Charge’s 2023 album A Trip To Bolgatanga (Bolgantanga is the region Ayisoba is from). Ayisoba then returned to the UK in late 2024 and travelled to Sherwood’s Ramsgate studio where the pair laid down the songs that would become Pure Confusion: “All the songs were already in my head,” says Ayisoba. “This album is all recorded live, over one afternoon. Adrian only plays live, and I like that. And he works hard - he doesn’t sleep. I woke up in the night and he was still working.”

“In my role producing it, I just let it roll to make a good vibe,” says Sherwood. “We recorded it completely live, did some programming and processing on some tracks, using dub techniques live on the mixing desk and adding some slick touches. We wanted the colours on the album to swing off what Ayisoba was doing, so we invited some friends to participate. Doug Wimbish (Sugar Hill Gang) arrived from America and lent his services playing bass on a couple of tracks; the wonderful Ivan Hussey (Celloman) played bass, keyboards and cello - cello is not really featured on African recordings so we thought it would be really cool to try it. I'd been working with Alex White (Fat White Family/Primal Scream) on my album (The Collapse of Everything) and so he added sax to a few tracks and I brought Alan Glenn down especially - Alan was in Little Axe but also Nine Below Zero and played in the Yardbirds – to add some mouth organ; Mark Bandola added a bit of flavour with his Juno, Ayisoba’s long-time Ghanian collaborator Ayuune Sule added some percussion and vocals and Matt Smith did some programming.”

“King Ayisoba is quite amazing, so unique,” Sherwood continues. “He’s got his own handmade instrument and three different voices - when you’re listening you think it’s three different people. He’s a breath of fresh air, full of love for the music which he wants to share with everybody. Some tracks we kept very straight and others we experimented with - adding dubby psychedelic little touches to trip you out a bit. The added production we did at On-U has given it a shine while still keeping it vibrant, live and spontaneous. I’m really proud of this record”.

On Pure Confusion, Ayisoba documents the anxieties, contradictions and changing social realities of contemporary Ghana. “Land is a problem for everyone,” says Ayisoba of the opening track “Property”. “If you don’t build on your land they will take it away. Plenty corruption in Ghana, plenty confusion. They sell the land to two, three, four people and then everybody fights.”

Elsewhere Ayisoba explores illness, spirituality and social stigma on “Bemba”, warning against hiding sickness out of shame or fear of “bad juju”: “People hide their sickness and the sickness kills them.” “Tewigiloge” reflects on cultural difference and open-mindedness encountered through world travel: “We will tour the whole world and we will see many things we may not like or understand… your eyes will see, but don’t talk - you have to be open-minded.”

Spirituality runs deeply throughout the album. Ayisoba’s grandfather was a respected spiritual healer whose presence the musician says still guides him today. “The grandparents’ spirits are the ones you can contact,” he explains of the spiritual chant “Nkaase”. “This song talks about the forefathers.” The closing track “Leeda-Mampanga (It’s Not My Strength)” acts as a statement of humility and gratitude: “You have to be humble, even if you have talent. God gives you the power.”

For more than two decades, King Ayisoba has been one of Africa’s most distinctive musical innovators, transforming northern Ghanaian kologo traditions into a bold contemporary sound rooted in hypnotic rhythms, social commentary and spiritual intensity. Since the breakthrough success of 2006’s Modern Ghanaians, Ayisoba has built an international following through acclaimed albums, relentless touring and collaborations with artists including Lee “Scratch” Perry, Orlando Julius and African Head Charge. Performances at Roskilde, WOMAD, Le Guess Who? and the Barbican have further cemented his reputation as a singular live performer and cultural force.

Saxophonist Patrick Shiroishi and drummer Jason Nazary present their new album, "here i am no i". The release marks their duo debut for We Jazz Records, adding to an expanding release catalog also including Nazary"s solo album Spring Collection (2021). "here i am no i" is a free-flowing body of work with continuous forward-motion, building on the acoustic duo setting and expands with electronics and voice landing somewhere beyond genre. Dedicated to jaimie branch, the album is a spontaneous product of trying to come to terms with the unimaginable loss of a close friend. Patrick Shiroishi is a Japanese-American multi-instrumentalist, composer & poet based in Los Angeles. His solo work has appeared on labels such as Sub Pop, Touch, American Dreams and Otherly Love. Jason Nazary is a Brooklyn-based drummer and producer, whose work has previously appeared on the We Jazz label on the solo album Spring Collection and on New Monuments by Amirtha Kidambi"s Elder Ones. RIYL: Patrick Shiroishi, Jason Nazary, Anteloper, jaimie branch, Y-OTIS, Koma Saxo, Jon Hassell.

In Thin Air, forms a musical companion piece to Robert and Jackie's book The Book of Birds - a book that is a love letter to the splendours and mysteries of birdlife, and a clarion call to halt the loss of birds from land, sea and sky. The music was created within the contemplative green oak roundhouse of Ty Sanctaidd (Sacred House) in the grounds of Ty Trefacwn in South West Wales, and recorded at Castle Sound Studio in Pencaitland, East Lothian. As with our other albums In Thin Airhas been recorded and produced by Andy Bell of Hudson Records. Throughout The Book of Birds there runs a gentle mantra - " Nest, Egg, Beak, Song, Feather, Flight, Migration -- these are the Seven Wonders that together conjure the miracle of Bird ". Intrigued by this concept, the seven musicians have created an intricate new album that has an overarching narrative, capturing the remarkable world of birds from birth to flight.

In Thin Air, forms a musical companion piece to Robert and Jackie's book The Book of Birds - a book that is a love letter to the splendours and mysteries of birdlife, and a clarion call to halt the loss of birds from land, sea and sky. The music was created within the contemplative green oak roundhouse of Ty Sanctaidd (Sacred House) in the grounds of Ty Trefacwn in South West Wales, and recorded at Castle Sound Studio in Pencaitland, East Lothian. As with our other albums In Thin Airhas been recorded and produced by Andy Bell of Hudson Records. Throughout The Book of Birds there runs a gentle mantra - " Nest, Egg, Beak, Song, Feather, Flight, Migration -- these are the Seven Wonders that together conjure the miracle of Bird ". Intrigued by this concept, the seven musicians have created an intricate new album that has an overarching narrative, capturing the remarkable world of birds from birth to flight.

Telepherique is a very old German Noisy project. But, with this record they propose something really ambientish, quiet and space. 3 of the 6 tracks on the vinyl are into a non-beat waves stuff, the 3 others ones are downtempowed beat and shaped with thin electrance sounds.

John Hassall (The Libertines) & The April Rainers release their long overdue second, self- titled album. It's is the followup to 2017's Wheels to Idyll, which picked up critical applause on its release. The new album was largely recorded at John's home studio in Aarhus, Denmark where he has been living since 2009. And was produced by the band, with string player Clementine Brown having a big influence on the sound. John Hassall "These 10 songs are the ones that survived, grew and took on a life of their own. There's no way of telling if a song will make it until the end. That Pale Lantern in my opinion, started off as a rank outsider and then turned into one of the strongest songs on the album. Lessons were learnt from Wheels to Idyll and a new musical development runs through it. Whereas the last album was recorded pretty much live. The new album maintains similar classic songwriting and pop sensibilities, though with more complex arrangements and production." Most of the songs were cowritten by John and longtime poet collaborator Steev Burgess exploring memories of school days, journeys and adventures, fading dreams, ancient empires and even somebody's trinket collection. Burgess who has known Hassall for many years, wrote the lyrics to lead single Miracles, a sort of Ballad of John and Line. Libertines band mate Peter Doherty is also involved with a co-writing credit on Doing Time. John Hassall and The April Rainers will be announcing UK shows shortly, in the meantime John will be appearing with his other band The Libertines at summer festivals across Europe and the UK.

Evolution can be ugly and beautiful, painful and euphoric. An Undying Love For A Burning World is the first new release from Neurosis in a decade, and a potent statement of intent and rebirth - one that marks the first new steps of resolve and resilience.

An Undying Love For A Burning World is an epic album of colossal hypnotism - beautiful, fearsome and utterly compelling in a way that only Neurosis can be. Aaron Turner (Sumac, Isis) joins the band on vocals and guitar, a name whose legacy is intertwined with the band’s own and a true kindred spirit.

“From the moment I first heard Neurosis over 30 years ago, I felt this was the music my heart and mind had been seeking but not yet heard. Now after many years travelling along various musical paths of my own, the singular sound and spirit embodied by Neurosis continues to speak to the depths of my being. It is an honor and a true pleasure to have been welcomed so warmly into a band that not only shaped my perspective on the limitless possibilities of music - but has lived and exemplified the necessity of upholding creative integrity and camaraderie above all else.” - AARON TURNER

Neurosis have never been afraid of change, and here they embrace endless regeneration, surrendering to the emotional exorcism through heaviness and distortion that their music incites. Just as the universe tends towards balance, Neurosis’cacophony of noise, rhythm and dissonance always resolves towards moments of beauty. The addition of Turner's powerful vocals and wildly creative and unhinged approach to guitar proves to be a vital force as Neurosis find themselves again at the mercy of evolution and expression.

On every song in the band’s history, Neurosis shifts restlessly between tension and relief, invoking a feeling both feral and transcendent in listeners. The band describe their songwriting process as an inescapable impulse to create with each other - a need rather than a choice. Indeed, the band insist that their return is “not a reunion - we never broke up.”

The album was recorded by Scott Evans (Kowloon Walled City, Sumac, and Great Falls) at Studio Litho in Seattle during three weekends this winter, and mixed in three days just six weeks before release at Evan's Antisleep Audio in Oakland.

Neurosis will play their first show in seven years on the traditional lands of the Blackfeet Nation in Montana as part of Fire in the Mountains festival by special invitation of Firekeeper Alliance, a non-profit dedicated to reducing youth suicide in Indian Country.

FITM, is a unique festival known for bringing epic music to epic landscapes with the intent of reconnecting and immersing oneself with the natural world, and strengthening our ancestral roots as human beings - an aim which aligns directly with Neurosis’ deep-rooted power.

Riff-driven and immediate, MALIST's style is rooted in the best Atmospheric Black Metal imprint, although experimenting with Post-Metal passages and modern-oriented melodic approaches Often epic and fierce, "Eternal Echo of the Fall" allows the listener to experience the perfect balance between anger and melancholy, as well as a raw, suggestive quality, thanks to mutable sections that float between slow, magical atmospheres and more fiery, aggressive ones. A particular attention to arrangements and a certain amount of ideas seal this album as an intriguing musical journey, in which each song has distinctive traits when compared to the others.

SEKTION's debut full-length DRUCK marks the first official collaboration between AtomTM & Siegmar Fricke, a connection rooted in 1992. Released by Geometrik Records, the label of industrial legend Esplendor Geométrico, in collaboration with Munster Records. Across thirteen interconnected tracks, DRUCK builds a stereo-enlarged environment shaped by metallic textures, rhythmic granulations and slow-moving structural shifts. Drawn from the compositional frameworks VOKOSTASIS, DIGITRAKTION, LEERZEICHEN, and UNWUCHT, the album unfolds as a continuum of mechano-sonic morphing. Fragments of frequency-altered voices emerge like damaged transmissions, woven into grain sliced rhythms, microsound detail, and layers of rusty tape noise and electro-acoustic particles. Tension and friction gradually push the material toward fragmentation without collapse. A formidable and immersive act of sonic engineering. German musician AtomTM (Uwe Schmidt) is one of the most imaginative and prolific talents in the global electronic music scene in recent decades. Since 1988, he has released music on cult labels such as Raster-Noton, Sähko, Mille Plateaux, Rough Trade, Rephlex, Fax, and his own label, Rather Interesting, under countless aliases. As producer, remixer and collaborator he has worked with and for musicians such as Ryuichi Sakamoto, Yellow Magic Orchestra, Depeche Mode, Towa Tei, Merzbow, Bill Laswell, Esplendor Geométrico, just to name a few. Uwe has developed an innovative, unconventional and highly personal musical vision, interpreting a wide variety of genres and styles in his own unique way, such as experimental music, techno, acid, EBM, electrolatino, ambient or industrial music, amongst others. Siegmar Fricke is a German artist starting with experiments involving short-waves and acoustic noises in the field between musique concrete and post-industrial around 1981. Ha became a very active player in the worldwide cassette culture movement. He ran his own label Bestattungsinstitut and published loads of releases ranging from experimental to ebm, electro, to ambient spread all over the world's tape labels from 1985 to 1993. Since 2001, Fricke has operated primarily under the alias Pharmakustik. His collaborations included notable ones with legends of electronic and industrial music such as Conrad Schnitzler and Mauricio Bianchi.

Siren Selector launches its mixtape series with a companion release to Remy Solar’s - ‘Heavy Terrain’ cassette.

“Jamaican music grows in rings like an old tree. From a core of early riddims, the genius of Studio One, versions of original basslines and melodies evolve over time New releases of the same tune follow each other through the 70s, 80s, 90s, into this millennium. Generations of the same family. And then there’s the unreleased versions, the frontier dubs built strictly for sound systems, held close by those who got them and only gradually circulated into the wider audience of selectors and collectors. These are the ones where the bass is heavier, the echoes more mind- bending, the effects wilder and the drums harder. Older sound followers tell stories of how these dubs defined dances, flattened opponents in clashes, inspired a dozen rewinds. Younger followers remember these tales and pass them down. These dubs are folklore.

Who knows how many such versions there are in the vast worldwide archives of Jamaican music? Not me. But as a little taster of a lifetime’s musical journey you can open your ears right now to a few moments: Lacksley’s Castell’s “Unkind”, transported from the sprightly riddim which underpinned it on his Princess Lady album and reengineered into a thunderous version of Ras Michael’s None A Jah Jah Children; “Deceivers” by the Heptones, stripped back into something simultaneously ethereal and bathyspheric; Keith Hudson’s “I’m No Fool” emerging from a pressure cooker of bass and drum; Jah Lloyd’s “Black Moses”, busting down walls with its epic echo and siren opening.

I started collecting these dubs in the late 90s. We were going to Shaka at the Rocket, Aba Shanti in the Arches, then Imperial Gardens. Entebbe somewhere off Mare Street. Iration Steppas in Kingsland Road, Jah Tubby’s in the Rec. We were doing our own parties at the time in east London, Bohemia Place, then Trenz, Dungeons, the old social services office by London Fields. Building up a sound, taking it on the road, crew sitting on the speaker boxes in the back of a Mercedes 508. Under the stars or in warehouses with sweat dripping from the ceiling, lugging crates and amps across fields or up flights of stairs, stringing up boxes under bridges, in car parks or on roundabouts. Waiting for the moment to drop the dubs.

This tape is dedicated to my crew and all the music providers and anyone who also knew or wants to know these moments.“

Fifty Physical Copies - 60 mins - No digital

The mighty Channel One Studios,Kingston, Jamaica, has its place set in Reggae's Musical History.Its distinctive sound the studio created on opening its doors in 1972 to its closure in the early 1980's made it the Producers, Singers and Musicians studio of choice during this furtive period. Achieving that vibe and clarity, separated it from the other Kingston establishments.

Run by the Hookim Family's four sons, Jo Jo the eldest followed by Paulie, Ernest and Kenneth. Their father originally came from China and married a Chinese Jamaican lady and settled in the St Andrews district before moving to Kingston Town itself. The family business was built on jukeboxes and one armed bandit machines in and around Kingston. A lucrative venture until the gaming laws changed in 1970, outlawing the gaming machines. So the music side of the business would have to be expanded. So it was decided to open a studio to make the music to supply their already established Jukebox enterprise. The four brothers opened Channel One Recording Studios in 1972 at 29 Maxfield Avenue, Kingston 13. Initially as we stated the purpose of the studio was for the brothers use only, but this would soon change when the various Producers all looking for that Channel One sound came asking for studio time.

The brothers had used the services of Bill Garnet a renowned and well respected technical engineer on setting up the studio. They spent a lot of time laying out the space to get the right acoustics and picking the right quipment. They went with a four track API desk and the best quality microphones such as Neuman, Sony and AKG, vital in obtaining the quality sound and track separation that would prove so worthwhile after the music was recorded to give the best flexibility on the final mix downs. Jo Jo would take over the production duties after the initial hiring of Syd Bucknor a producer who had worked closely with Coxonne Dodds Studio 1 stable. The first release on the Channel One label would be 'Don't Give Up The Fight' by Stranger Cole and Gladstone 'Gladdy' Anderson.The initial two thousand run being swallowed up by their Jukebox interests and so the steady flow of hits would run up to the brake through hit of 1975 'Right Time' by  the Mighty Diamonds.

1977 saw Jo Jo extending his stays in New York to a semipermanent status, returning mainly to oversee recording sessions and then taking the results back to America for worldwide distribution. His brother Paulies senseless killing in that year also added to Jo Jo's decision to spend more time with his Hit Bound Manufacturing set up in New York. The Channel One studio would be upgraded in 1979 to sixteen tracks and although Jo Jo and Ernest still covered the mixing and engineering duties Kenneth would now supervise sessions. An often untold part of Channel Ones history is the involvement of Producer Niney The Observer. The mid to late 1970's were heavy times both musically and politically and Maxfield Avenue was in the heart of this crossfire. Some artists and musicians were weary of using the establishment especially when sessions ended late at night and exiting the studio at these times could be somewhat dangerous. But Niney’s fearlessness seen him over running and in many cases running the all night sessions with his trusted set of musicians loosely called The Soul Syndicate. Having the run of the mighty Channel One studio's allowed Niney to build up and work on a stockpile of rhythms that he still has yet to unleash on the world. We have been lucky to select a bunch of material from Niney's vaults for this release. Some great unreleased rhythms and some different cuts to some tracks you might already know. Niney's work with Dennis Brown and his own distinctive heavy roots style productions have been documented and indeed his work on Channel Ones Yellowman releases stand tall also. We hope this fine set of Niney Productions set inside the hollowed walls of Channel One will sit beside them as they so richly deserve.

‘Richness of tone; precision of articulation; ingenuity of timbre that, when Akinmusire pursues microtonal avenues, creates the sense that particular sounds are almost hermetically sealed before being slowly squeezed and pinched into the air. In other words there is a high degree of technical mastery, but, tellingly, it underpins a profound and often engrossing sense of narrative.’ - Jazzwise

‘Halvorson has formulated a guitar style with few precedents. One inspiration might be the painter George Seurat, whose Impressionist paintings of a hundred isolated dots cohere into a picture if one steps back from the canvas. Halvorson’s pointillist approach to the guitar works much the same way.’ - JazzTimes

Slo-Mo Neon Luminate Hoverings, the new album by trumpeter/composer Ambrose Akinmusire and guitarist/composer Mary Halvorson, features four new compositions by each musician as well as one collaboration. The duo, long admirers of each other’s musicianship, met at Halvorson’s Brooklyn apartment and began playing together periodically, going back as far as 2009. They rehearsed the music on Slo-Mo Neon Luminate Hoverings in January 2025, just before performing it at the New York City club The Stone; they recorded this album the next day at Sear Sound.

Akinmusire and Halvorson made two previous attempts at recording an album but felt that they got it right with this third session. Halvorson says of their rapport, which developed over those years of friendship and collaboration, “I think it’s partly a shared aesthetic and an ease of communication. I feel comfortable to try whatever.” Akinmusire concurs, “I think it’s rare to find an improviser that all goes and nothing has to go at all. It’s rare to feel like you don’t have to do anything and you can do anything. And that’s what I love about playing with Mary.”

Though Halvorson regularly uses effects pedals on her guitar, Akinmusire’s use of one on Slo-Mo Neon Luminate Hoverings is new. Having recently gotten an updated model of the Line 6, Halvorson was passing her old ones along to friends. “Ambrose was interested in trying a Line Six. I gave him one five minutes before the rehearsal and was amazed how quickly he was able to do incredible shit on it ... in literally five minutes,” she says.

“But I’ve been watching you, I’ve been watching Bill Frisell and other people use it for a long time,” Akinmusire says. “I approached it as if it were its own musician. I played and it would process the sound and then I would choose to react to that or not. The people like Mary that I love to listen to who use delay, I like being able to hear the process of the texture that’s being built. With some people, when they use it, you don’t really hear it. But with Mary, she’ll play a line and then she’ll react to that line and then react to that,” he continues. “It’s really cool to hear how something is being built. So I kind of stole that.”

Halvorson says, “I’ve never seen someone pick up a pedal and then immediately do something with it that felt like, ‘Oh, this is a sound,’ as opposed to just tinkering, you know? It felt like he was making music on it right away, and then also doing things that surprised me, like the vocalizing really surprised me. I wasn’t expecting that, and it was awesome.”

Red Vinyl. Remastered by Bob Weston at Chicago Mastering Studio from the original analog master tapes. "Slint formed in 1986 as an outlet and pastime for four friends from Louisville, Kentucky. Their music was strange, wholly their own, sparse and tight. What immediately set them apart was their economy and precision. Slint were that rare band willing to play just one or two notes at a time and sometimes nothing at all. 1989's "Tweez" LP hints at their genius." - Steve Albini (Melody Maker, 1991). From the original bio: It's almost always muddy in the lousy little shanty town by the river. All the children's toys are old and rusty, even the plastic ones. Jimmy and Mel fashioned their own toy out of a live chicken that they stole. A knot was tied around the bird's feet with a shoe lace. The two boys painted their plaything yellow and silver and swung it around like a lasso, screaming gibberish and laughing the whole time. Mel got so excited that he wet himself. So, Jimmy slugged him square in the eye. About five or eight miles south east of the shanty town all the fellows in SLINT were suffering from headaches, except the drummer, who only got them when the others didn't. SLINT is a band from Louisville, Kentucky. tweez was its first recording.

Berlin-based artist ágata explores her sound and voice in an intimate musical practice, where sincere storytelling meets sonic meditation and voice becomes a force of nature. This album follows ágata’s self released debut “primeros pasos”.

Looking through the window, waiting to enter the body, the storm we see on the other side. Thunder and relief. Consuelo. To surrender from listening to the body. To surrender to love as a state that heals and when it leaves it wakes up fear, confusing itself. To carry us until the end, until eternal. Pulso. To multiply from reflection instead of losing one self, to re-encounter each other’s pulse. A song to oneself, to love and expand our power from and towards love. words by Merma Suelo

BLUE & WHITE COLOUR IN COLOUR VINYL

In the culinary arts, it’s easy to overcomplicate the final product. Theme, presentation, texture…they’re important but should work to complement the raison d'etre of any food. At the end of cooking a dish, it should taste good and feed people. Some dishes, like barbeque or provoleta, resist the tendency towards hollow showmanship. One of their expressions can be more or less aesthetic, but the first purpose is to be simple and tasteful. Argentinian provoleta goes so far as to blur the line between ingredient and dish. It relies on the inherent flavor of provolone being heated at the right speed for the perfect amount of time. You can add garlic or chives or red pepper to the slice, but ultimately they serve to bring out an essence that’s already there.

Los Angeles’ Cousin Feo has developed his rapping acumen in the five years since releasing Provoleta, but returning to the project today shows that he always had the penmanship, grit and delivery that christens an emcee worthy of remembrance. Like the bubbles rising up in the appetizer that is the album’s namesake, Feo showed that true profundity is found in the simple gestures.

Since dropping the project in 2019, Cousin Feo has expanded his vision of a world where hip-hop and football, two proletarian art forms, mingle in creative and compelling ways. He has collaborated across multiple continents, chronicled football histories, aided in canonizing legends, kept the flames high in age-old rivalries and constantly forced his audience to search for the last time they heard bars this hard. In anyone else’s hands it would be too great a task.

The maturity he showed on Provoleta wasn’t nascent, it was an inherent quality forcing itself to the surface. The songs refract his experience as a working class Angeleno through the archetypes of Argentinian football legends. The kernel that unites the two worlds is hustle. When Feo was coming up, missteps had greater consequences than crashing out in the group stage and street deals had the weight of a Boca-River Plate match.

Each track uses slightly different ingredients to let Feo’s underlying talent shine. “Maradona” feels salvific, fitting for a football legend canonized from the Andes to the Alps and a Los Angeles rapper looking to inspire similar hope in the neighborhoods that raised him. On “Di Stefano” Feo massages the instrumental with the same composure of the late forward, until he pierces through the headphones like one of Di Stefano’s arrows. It’s also refreshing to hear a song celebrating Messi before his meme-ification, focusing on the universal truths contained in his footballing talent instead of using number 10 as a stand-in to make a point in a fruitless argument. And he still finds space to show deference to Batistuta, Kempes and other members of the Argentinian pantheon who’ve been erased from the popular imagination by the national team's contemporary success.

Real ones know that true players, true rappers, and true artists will always stand the attacks of time and consensus. In Provoleta’s first verse, Cousin Feo says he moves with the hand of God. Maybe one day he’ll tell the whole truth and let us know how he was able to wrestle the pen away too. Limited edition of 300 hand-numbered copies.

There is an abruptness to waking up to the sight of the other person’s back, a quiet violence hidden in the impression of intimacy, that’s leaving an aftertaste of emptiness. The feeling of losing oneself completely in a love that is given but never returned. Or the slower, less immediate one - the gradual disintegration of a world into which so much was once invested.

Love, Diskito is like a worn out overdubbed cassette found in a drawer, with its underlying tracks flickering between contrasting emotional states. Written, produced and mixed by GbClifford, the release follows up on the elusive, multifaceted output of the Prague-based experimental artist, who dresses fleeting glimpses of youthful yearning, sentiment and fragility in the blunt apparel of distortion and immediacy.

Drawing from their idiosyncratic, collage-like approach to music production, GbClifford condenses on Love, Diskito a varied palette of field recordings, samples, distorted instruments and ambient sounds. They resemble doodles in the corner of a school notebook, tightly overlapping with the evocative, minimalistic artwork by Czech artist Kateřina Šípová.

The guidance of GbClifford’s personless, at times highly decomposed vocals modulates the emotional urgency of the recording and reflects on the past. “I’m so close to relapsing, I’m here for you, closer than ever,” echoes in the elusive track So Only Yours, carrying the undercurrents of surrendering to the sole necessity of caring, even at the cost of individual ache. While the album does not forgo its earthbound, bare setting, there is something deeply pastoral and sky-gazing in the layered, multi-pitched vocals, horn-like tones and sense of space that Love, Diskito evokes.

Schatterau’s third album, »Wir gingen durch leere Stunden« (We went through empty hours), sees the German duo blossoms with beauty and sophistication through a broad creative language.

This opus, presented in the form of vivid auditory tableaux vivants, explores the topography of memory as a landscape in constant motion – full of loops, feedbacks, and mirage-like distortions. Sounds climbing like vines over old walls, concealing details only to reveal new ones. Some pieces feel like fragments of a dream whose origin has vanished, others like displaced echoes of a day long gone.

Memories create paths that only become visible in retrospect – detours that somehow always lead back to oneself. Each track draws the listener into a different recollection, as if opening an old door. Inside, time behaves strangely: it jumps, stretches, and repeats.

»Wir gingen durch leere Stunden« ultimately presents Schatterau at their most experimental, complex and measured extremes, channelling ambiguous human emotional resonance ranging from melancholy to pure ecstasy.

Fifteen years after their first album "Time for a Change", and drawing on the experience of two others ("Elephanz" 2017, and "Rien de personnel" 2023), ELEPHANZ now returns with a fourth album that carries the scent of first loves, the kind you sing from the heart with your hands gripping a guitar.

"Love. Hurt. Repeat." tells, across ten songs, the story of a return to oneself, like coming home after years spent roaming the world, only to realize that everything you needed to understand yourself was already there at the starting line.

To help you understand what this new album makes me feel, I'd like to tell you about my first meeting with Jon and Max in 2009, when I became the band's bassist. Sixteen years ago, I discovered these two young men and set off in their family Kangoo van on my very first tour.

Through our early rehearsals around the piano of their childhood, I discovered their love for pop music in all its breadth, always in search of harmonies and melodies that touch the heart in the simplest way and gently ease your sorrows along the way. With them, I learned to appreciate the mainstream hits I had previously dismissed on principle, and I discovered the demanding art of melody as I listened to them sing about love and friendship through unforgettable catchphrases.

Listening today to some of the songs from their new album, I think back to those two young men with a big-city rock look, shut away in the living room of their family home, talking only about leaving that dull countryside behind to live the big life in the capital (Streets of Rage). What I once took for a kind of revenge against the hostile environment of their adolescence was in fact an almost vital need to find their place among others, to feel understood in order to feel at ease in their own skin.

Today, I find them again with the same guitar and the same inexpensive Juno as back then, but with the confidence shaped by years of concerts, writing, studio encounters, and all kinds of experimentation. The music of this fourth album has never been so close to that of their earliest days, but their voices have been set free. They no longer sing about who they dreamed of becoming, but about who they have always been, their most distant concerns, sometimes even their darkest ones, yet always in search of the light.

It is as if ELEPHANZ had to travel all the way around the world to come face to face with themselves again. There is no longer any shame in being who you are, and it is even the best way to understand yourself, to exist and to heal. To heal from grief and heartbreak, to understand the child you once were and the one who carried them (Mother), to forgive yourself and finally learn to love yourself.

That is what makes this record as sensitive as it is powerful and strikingly truthful. It was written and recorded like a cry, live, in just a few weeks, using the instruments of their beginnings: sharp bass and drums, powerful guitars, and synthesizers that are at times soaring, at times carriers of liberating melodies. The art of ballads remains, as does that of universal pop songs.

There is a beautiful urgency here, the urgency of finding oneself again in order to understand oneself through both pain and beauty, and "Love. Hurt. Repeat." is its most perfect expression.

Cathartic avant-rock, literate DIY folk & experimental composition exploring displacement, love, climate change, belonging & the places we call home - RIYL Jim O’Rourke, Richard Youngs, This Heat, Richard Dawson, Flying Nun. ‘Real Home’ is the new album by the Manchester-born, London-based artist Kiran Leonard. His sixth album proper (not including innumerable tour-only CD-Rs and short-run cassettes), since his precocious debut in 2013, ‘Real Home’ finds Leonard invigorated by inspiration and experience, making passionate, literate, and mercurial music that explores displacement, love, memory, climate change, connections to home and more. Encompassing songs recorded after moving to South London, ‘Real Home’ reflects on ideas of belonging and domesticity through folkloric, stream-of-consciousness songwriting. Across nine tracks, Leonard traces lived impressions of the household and the city, expressing sentiments of dislocation, alienation and stasis, but contentment too. Infusing the avant-rock effervescence, terraced dynamics and visionary lyricism of his music with what he defines as a greater sense of openness, Leonard is as versatile, fervent and imaginative as ever on ‘Real Home’, yet his music is somehow more intimate, affecting, and acutely expressive. Shaped by dual considerations of simplicity and formalism, ‘Real Home’ is by turns beautiful, allusive, and ruminative, an album on which Leonard considers what his songs have resembled in the past and what they mean now. In recent years, Leonard has crafted eloquent chamber music inspired by the likes of James Joyce and Clarice Lispector (‘Derevaun Seraun’), responded to contemporary politics and communication breakdown in the digital age (‘Western Culture’), and compiled solo works and ensemble recordings for a longform ode to Jonas Mekas and to one of Leonard’s enduring themes; home (‘Trespass On Foot’). On ‘Real Home’, Leonard reiterates this abiding thematic focus yet ascends to new, different heights, in music of cathartic delicacy and dissonance where all the myriad dimensions of his work to date seem to crystallize. There are sinuous songs about struggle and defying the pace of city life through drift and diversion (‘Pass Between Houses’), stirring songs of intense feeling and crescendo, described as a form of speculative detective fiction (‘Theatre for Change’). There are touching solo piano ballads (the title track), symbolic contentions with carbon capture and climate change (‘Utopia of Bog’), modes of experimental minimalism (‘Void Attentive’), and other profuse feats of compositional range, embroidered with wild tendrils of narrative and lyrical depth. A record to pore over, and get lost in. Exemplifying the vast aesthetic scope of Leonard’s music, lead single ‘My Love, Let’s Take The Stage Tonight’ is inspired by country lodestar Hank Williams, Russian poetry and a late period love poem by William Carlos Williams. Yet for Leonard, the song signals a sense of accessible materiality, and is the product of a more linear approach to writing songs: “My imitation of the great Hank Williams, in spirit if not in substance…This is one of the best efforts on Real Home at a song-as-object. Looking at it now I realise I was trying to write a song that made itself known as a song to the listener, and I wonder whether that’s crucial if you want a song to transcend its context. And that this is either accomplished through a total openness – by being inviting, by laying the tricks of the song out plain to see, as Williams and his many ghostwriters did so well – or by adopting a knowing aloofness, positioning oneself against the listener but letting it be known that that’s what it’s doing. In this song I try both, but mostly the former: as in, I wanted to write a song where every line follows on from the next.” Imbuing the endlessly elaborate and inventive qualities of his music with a newfound streak of candid, clear-cut melodicism, Leonard has reached a special place in his artistry, on a record that feels familial, and expresses closeness. Assembled with affiliates including Lauren Auder, Otto Willberg, Jasper Llewellyn (caroline), Tom Hardwick-Allan (Shovel Dance Collective), Magda McLean (caroline, The Umlauts), Alex Mckenzie (caroline, Shovel Dance Collective), Isabelle Thorn (Dear Laika) & more, the recording process had a significant influence on the subject matter of ‘Real Home’, in sessions defined by close-knit camaraderie and artistic eccentricity: “The theme of the home obviously recurs throughout the record; the album was mostly recorded in domestic spaces with friends, and the name of the album is Real Home. I like the qualifier ‘real’, like you’re getting past the cloak of the word and towards the thing-itself…also nearly all the percussion in this record was recorded on items from my dad’s shed (jam jars, sandpaper, blocks of wood, etc). Real home record!” ‘Real Home’, like anything by Kiran Leonard, is a record of dazzling multiplicity. Yet it’s a companionable prospect with a central premise; a collection of songs where listeners old and new can find a home. An album led by a scene; of Leonard standing at the threshold, ready to welcome you inside. “Exceptional songs that linger” - The Guardian // “An autodidact of amazing talent & energy” – Pitchfork // “A ridiculous amount of talent…confrontational, celebratory, provocative or perverse – he manages all of these emotions & more” - The Quietus /

A century-old grand piano, a secluded house surrounded by the greenery of Brittany, no internet connection, and a reel-to-reel recorder.L'Écho de Bretagne, the new EP by Niklas Paschburg, set for release from fall 2025 via Nettwerk Music Group, is a solo piano record as essential as it is intense. An album made of silences, space, slowness. A music that doesn't chase impact, but truth.

the album release is march 26th - 2026.

If his previous work, Mexican Alps (2025), marked the first time the German composer and producer created an ambient-electronic album without his instrument of choice, the piano, L'Écho de Bretagne emerges as a direct response to that absence. "It was exactly the lack of piano that brought about the need for this new record, which instead puts that instrument, so vital to me, at the very center, stripping everything else away," Niklas explains.

Born in 1994, Paschburg has shaped over the years a musical path deeply connected to travel, nature, and introspection. From his debutTuur Mang Welten(2016) toOceanic(2018),Svalbard(2020),Panta Rhei(2023), and the aforementionedMexican Alps— alongside soundtracks, remixes, and collaborations with artists like RY X, Hania Rani, Ásgeir, and Bryan Senti — his sound bridges neoclassical, electronic, ambient, and pop-driven composition.

WithL'Écho de Bretagne, the Hamburg-born, Berlin-based musician continues his exploration by seeking solitude in nature, much like he did onSvalbard, but this time with an even more radical choice: disconnecting completely from the internet, and switching off both computer and smartphone for a while, in order to fully immerse himself in his new music. "I rented an old cottage in Paimpol, Brittany, where I knew there was a grand piano," he recounts. "When I got there, I discovered that not only was the piano more than a hundred years old, but it was also of an unknown brand, never restored, and quite difficult to play. But that gave it a unique character, and I didn't give up. Sure, it was an instrument left to its own fate, I couldn't play anything too fast. But how fascinating was that? I'm convinced that setting limits, instead of giving yourself total freedom when composing, can become an extraordinary source of inspiration."

As for the decision to temporarily detach from a life that demands we stay constantly connected, Niklas describes it as both a creative and human experiment. "I had my laptop and phone with me, just in case, but I kept them turned off. That choice made me wantL'Écho de Bretagneto be a fully analog work, even in how it was recorded." A way of clearing the mind. "I don't think I've ever been as calm as I was during those days in Paimpol. Even though I was working on a very specific project and didn't have much time, that period was more relaxing than any vacation."

Not that it was free of hiccups. "I'd borrowed a reel-to-reel recorder small enough to travel with me, but after recording a session on the piano, I realized it wasn't working properly, the sound was distorted, full of crackles. I got worried, because I wasn't near any big city where I could find a technician. Luckily, I figured out the problem was the old tape reels I had brought along. That was the only time I had to go online, to order new ones. But it was just for a moment. I shut everything off again right after." At that point, Niklas was waiting for the new tapes to arrive. He found out, completely by chance, from a local UPS courier that they had been delivered to a nearby village. "Since my phone was off, I couldn't track the shipment. So one day I asked this delivery guy, who didn't know anything about it. But from that point on, we'd see each other daily and talk… That's what being disconnected also means: reconnecting with people around you, even strangers. It was thanks to that courier that I found out where the tapes had ended up. And he even helped me get them back, writing directions for me on a scrap of paper."

But there's another element that makes this new EP unique.L'Écho de Bretagnewas recorded entirely live; its tracks are all improvised, complete with their imperfections. This approach leads to a sound that is pure, profoundly organic, and deeply authentic, intentionally preserved to give the listener the feeling of a live performance happening in their own living room. The touch of fingers on the keys, the breath of the wood, the tension of the vibrating string, all become part of the music. There is no construction, only expression. "Even now, when I listen back to it, I feel that moment I gave myself to step away from everything: from reality, from words, from noise." The result is a collection of suspended melodies and atmospheres, reflecting a state of the soul. A refuge from the rush of time. A pause from the world.

Manilla Road's »The Courts Of Chaos« album was originally released in 1990. It was the band's last release for Black Dragon and also the last release before the band temporarily split up (if we do not take 1992's »Circus Maximus« into account, which was actually supposed to be a solo album). All in all it was a very tough time for Manilla Road. When he was still alive, Mark Shelton commented in an exclusive interview: "Yes, you are correct with all of that. Our releases were not selling as well as they had years before and it seemed like metal in general was having a hard time surviving the times that followed the conversion to CD technology. Right after Manilla Road broke up, I started putting together a solo project that accidentally turned into a band. So we named it Circus Maximus and signed a deal with Black Dragon but they decided to release it as a Manilla Road album because they thought it would sell better. »The Courts Of Chaos« was the last album that was a real Manilla Road project on Black Dragon." “»The Courts Of Chaos« was a tough album to get done because the atmosphere within the band was tense, to say the least”, continued The Shark. ”We all knew it was going to be the end of an era and that this line-up would most likely never do another album.” Although »The Courts Of Chaos« might not be the strongest Manilla Road effort, Mark did not consider it a “throwaway album” whatsoever: “It does not seem to get mentioned as much as many other albums of The Road. But when it does come up, it seems like that person is really sold on the project being one of our better ones. It does, in my opinion, have some really killer songs on it. 'Dig Me No Grave' is still in our show. It's always a challenge to play but I love doing that one live and it still seems to appeal to our audience. “ Another highlight on »The Courts Of Chaos« is "DOA", a cover of a Bloodrock number. Manilla Road were not known for playing too many covers. Mark Shelton explained: "I grew up in that era and yes, I love that old stuff and could be called a collector of sorts, I guess. This was the only cover song that Manilla Road has ever put on an album. We chose this song because it was the only one that all three of us could agree upon. I wanted to do some obscure hit from the old days and turn it into a Manilla Road style song. I'm still fairly fond of the version and still like to listen to it every once in a while."

UILTY RAZORS, BONA FIDE PUNKS.



Writings on the topic that go off in all directions, mind-numbing lectures given by academics, and testimonies, most of them heavily doctored, from those who “lived through that era”: so many people today fantasize about the early days of punk in our country… This blessed moment when no one had yet thought of flaunting a ridiculous green mohawk, taking Sid Vicious as a hero, or – even worse – making the so-called alternative scene both festive and boorish. There was no such thing in 1976 or 1977, when it wasn’t easy to get hold of the first 45s by the Pistols or the Clash. Few people were aware of what was happening on the fringes of the fringes at the time. Malcolm McLaren was virtually unknown, and having short hair made you seem strange. Who knew then that rock music, which had taken a very bad turn since the early 1970s, would once again become an essential element of liberation? That, thanks to short and fast songs, it would once again rediscover that primitive, social side that was so hated by older generations? Who knew that, besides a few loners who read the music press (it was even better if they read it in English) and frequented the right record stores? Many of these formed bands, because it was impossible to do otherwise. We quickly went from listening to the Velvet Underground to trying to play the Stooges’ intros. It’s a somewhat collective story, even though there weren’t many people to start it.
The Guilty Razors were among those who took part in this initial upheaval in Paris. They were far from being the worst. They had something special and even released a single that was well above the national average. They also had enough songs to fill an album, the one you’re holding. In everyone’s opinion, they were definitely not among the punk impostors that followed in their wake. They were, at least, genuine and credible.

Guilty Razors, Parisian punk band (1975-1978). To understand something about their somewhat linear but very energetic sound, we might need to talk about the context in which it was born and, more broadly, recall the boredom (a theme that would become capital in punk songs) coupled with the desire to blow everything off, which were the basis for the formation of bands playing a rejuvenated rock music ; about the passion for a few records by the Kinks or the early Who, by the Stooges, by the Velvet mostly, which set you apart from the crowd.
And of course, we should remember this new wave, which was promoted by a few articles in the specialized press and some cutting-edge record stores, coming from New York or London, whose small but powerful influence could be felt in Paris and in a handful of isolated places in the provinces, lulled to sleep by so many appalling things, from Tangerine Dream to President Giscard d’Estaing...
In 1975-76, French music was, as almost always, in a sorry state ; it was still dominated by Johnny Hallyday and Sylvie Vartan. Local rock music was also rather bleak, apart from Bijou and Little Bob who tried to revive this small scene with poorly sound-engineered gigs played to almost no one.
In the working class suburbs at the time, it was mainly hard rock music played to 11 that helped people forget about their gruelling shifts at the factory. Here and there, on the outskirts of major cities, you still could find a few rockers with sideburns wearing black armbands since the death of Gene Vincent, but it wasn’t a proper mass movement, just a source of real danger to anyone they came across who wasn't like them. In August 1976, a festival unlike any other took place in Mont-de-Marsan – the First European Punk Festival as the poster said – with almost as many people on stage as in the audience. Yet, on that day, a quasi historical event happened, when, under the blazing afternoon sun, a band of unknowns called The Damned made an unprecedented noise in the arena, reminiscent of the chaotic Stooges in their early adolescence. They were the first genuine punk band to perform in our country: from then on, anything was possible, almost anything seemed permissible.

It makes sense that the four+1 members of Guilty Razors, who initially amplified acoustic guitars with crappy tape recorder microphones, would adopt punk music (pronounced paink in French) naturally and instinctively, since it combines liberating noise with speed of execution and – crucially – a very healthy sense of rebellion (the protesters of May 1968 proclaimed, and it was even a slogan, that they weren’t against old people, but against what had made them grow old. In the mid-1970s, it seemed normal and obvious that old people should now ALSO be targeted!!!).
At the time, the desire to fight back, and break down authority and apathy, was either red or black, often taking the form of leafleting, tumultuous general assemblies in the schoolyard, and massive or shabby demonstrations, most of the time overflowing with an exciting vitality that sometimes turned into fights with the riot police. Indeed, soon after the end of the Vietnam War and following Pinochet’s coup in Chile, all over France, Trotskyist and anarcho-libertarian fervour was firmly entrenched among parts of the educated youth population, who were equally rebellious and troublemakers whenever they had the chance. It should also be noted that when the single "Anarchy in the UK" was first heard, even though not many of us had access to it, both the title and its explosive sound immediately resonated with some of those troublemakers crying out for ANARCHY!!! Meanwhile, the left-wing majority still equated punks with reckless young neo-Nazis. Of course, the widely circulated photos in the mainstream press of Siouxsie Sioux with her swastikas didn’t necessarily help to win over the theorists of the Great Revolution. It took Joe Strummer to introduce The Clash as an anti-racist, anti-fascist and anti-ignorance band for the rejection of old-school revolutionaries to fade a little.

The Lycée Jean-Baptiste Say at Porte d’Auteuil, despite being located in the very posh and very exclusive 16th arrondissement of Paris, didn’t escape these "committed" upheavals, which doubled as the perfect outlet for the less timid members of this generation.
“Back then, politics were fun,” says Tristam Nada, who studied there and went on to become Guilty Razors’ frontman. “Jean-Baptiste was the leftist high-school in the neighbourhood. When the far right guys from the GUD came down there, the Communist League guys from elsewhere helped us fight them off.”
Anything that could challenge authority was fair game and of course, strikes for just about any reason would lead to increasingly frequent truancy (with a definitive farewell to education that would soon follow). Tristam Nada spent his 10th and 11th unfinished grades with José Perez, who had come from Spain, where his father, a janitor, had been sentenced to death by Franco. “José steered my tastes towards solid acts such as The Who. Like most teenagers, I had previously absorbed just about everything that came my way, from Yes to Led Zeppelin to Genesis. I was exploring… And then one day, he told me that he and his brother Carlos wanted to start a rock band.” The Perez brothers already played guitar. “Of course, they were Spanish!”, jokes their singer. “Then, somewhat reluctantly, José took up the bass and we were soon joined by Jano – who called himself Jano Homicid – who took up the rhythm guitar.” Several drummers would later join this core of not easily intimidated young guys who didn’t let adversity get the better of them.

The first rehearsals of the newly named Guilty Razors took place in the bedroom of a Perez aunt. There, the three rookies tried to cover a few standards, songs that often were an integral part of their lives. During a first, short gig, in front of a bewildered audience of tough old-school rockers, they launched into a clunky version of the Velvet Underground's “Heroin”. Challenge or recklessness? A bit of both, probably… And then, step by step, their limited repertoire expanded as they decided to write their own songs, sung in a not always very accurate or academic English, but who cared about proper grammar or the right vocabulary, since what truly mattered was to make the words sound as good as possible while playing very, very fast music? And spitting out those words in a language that left no doubt as to what it conveyed mattered as well.
Trying their hand a the kind of rock music disliked by most of the neighbourhood, making noise, being fiercely provocative: they still belonged to a tiny clique who, at this very moment, had chosen to impose this difference. And there were very few places in France or elsewhere, where one could witness the first stirrings of something that wasn’t a trend yet, let alone a movement.

In the provinces, in late 1976 or early 1977, there couldn’t be more than thirty record stores that were a bit more discerning than average, where you could hear this new kind of short-haired rock music called “punk”. The old clientele, who previously had no problem coming in to buy the latest McCartney or Aerosmith LP, now felt a little less comfortable there…
In Paris, these enlightened places were quite rare and often located nex to what would become the Forum des Halles, a big shopping mall. Between three aging sex workers, a couple of second-hand clothes shops, sellers of hippie paraphernalia and small fashion designers, the good word was loudly spread in two pioneering places – propagators of what was still only a new underground movement. Historically, the first one was the Open Market, a kind of poorly, but tastefully stocked cave. Speakers blasted out the sound of sixties garage bands from the Nuggets compilation (a crucial reference for José Perez) or the badly dressed English kids of Eddie and the Hot Rods. This black-painted den was opened a few years earlier by Marc Zermati, a character who wasn’t always in a sunny disposition, but always quite radical in his (good) choices and his opinions. He founded the independent label Skydog and was one of the promoters of the Mont-de-Marsan punk festivals. Not far from there was Harry Cover, another store more in tune with the new New York scene, which was amply covered in the house fanzine, Rock News (even though it was in it that the photos of the Sex Pistols were first published in France).
It was a favorite hang-out of the Perez brothers and Tristam Nada, as the latter explained. “It’s at Harry Cover’s that we first heard the Pistols and Clash’s 45s, and after that, we decided to start writing our first songs. If they could do it, so could we!”
The sonic shocks that were “Anarchy in the UK”, “White Riot” or the Buzzcocks’s EP, “Spiral Scratch” – which Guilty Razors' sound is reminiscent of – were soon to be amplified by an unparalleled visual shock. In April 1977, right after the release of their first LP, The Clash performed at the Palais des Glaces in Paris, during a punk night organised by Marc Zermati. For many who were there, it was the gig of a lifetime…
Of course, Guilty Razors and Tristam were in the audience: “That concert was fabulous… We Parisian punks were almost all dressed in black and white, with white shirts, skinny leather ties, bikers jackets or light jackets, etc. The Clash, on the other hand, wore colourful clothes. Well, the next day, at the Gibus, you’d spot everyone who had been at this concert, but they weren’t wearing anything black, they were all wearing colours.”

It makes sense to mention the Gibus club, as Guilty Razors often played there (sometimes in front of a hostile audience). It was also the only place in Paris that regularly scheduled new Parisian or Anglo-Saxon acts, such as Generation X, Siouxsie and the Banshees, the Slits, and Johnny Thunders who would become a kind of messed-up mascot for the venue. A little later, in 1978, the Rose Bonbon – formerly the Nashville – also attracted nightly owls in search of electric thrills… In 1977, the iconic but not necessarily excellent Asphalt Jungle often played at the Gibus, sometimes sharing the bill with Metal Urbain, the only band whose aura would later transcend the French borders (“I saw them as the French Sex Pistols,” said Geoff Travis, head of their British label Rough Trade). Already established in this small scene, Metal Urbain helped the young and restless Guilty Razors who had just arrived. Guitarist for Metal Urbain Hermann Schwartz remembers it: “They were younger than us, we were a bit like their mentors even if it’s too strong a word… At least they were credible. We thought they were good, and they had good songs which reminded of the Buzzcocks that I liked a lot. But at some point, they started hanging out with the Hells Angels. That’s when we stopped following them.”

The break-up was mutual, since, Guilty Razors, for their part, were shocked when they saw a fringe element of the audience at Metal Urbain concerts who repeatedly shouted “Sieg Heil” and gave Nazi salutes. These provocations, even still minor (the bulk of the skinhead crowd would later make their presence felt during concerts), weren’t really to the liking of the Perez brothers, whose anti-fascist convictions were firmly rooted. Some things are non-negotiable.
A few months earlier (in July 1978), Guilty Razors had nevertheless opened very successfully for Metal Urbain at the Bus Palladium, a more traditonally old-school rock night-club. But, as was sometimes the case back then, the night turned into a mass brawl when suburban rockers came to “beat up punks”.

Back then, Parisian nights weren’t always sweet and serene.

So, after opening as best as they could for The Jam (their sound having been ruined by the PA system), our local heroes were – once again – met outside by a horde of greasers out to get them. “Thankfully,” says Tristam, “we were with our roadies, motorless bikers who acted as a protective barrier. We were chased in the neighbouring streets and the whole thing ended in front of a bar, with the owner coming out with a rifle…”
Although Tristam and the Perez brothers narrowly escaped various, potentially bloody, incidents, they weren’t completely innocent of wrongdoing either. They still find amusing their mugging of two strangers in the street for example (“We were broke and we simply wanted to buy tickets for the Heartbreakers concert that night,” says Tristam). It so happened that their victims were two key figures in the rock business at the time: radio presenter Alain Manneval and music publisher Philippe Constantin. They filed a complaint and sought monetary compensation, but somehow the band’s manager, the skilful but very controversial Alexis, managed to get the complaint withdrawn and Guilty Razors ended up signing with Constantin with a substantial advance.

They also signed with Polydor and the label released in 1978 their only three-track 45, featuring “I Don't Wanna be A Rich”, “Hurts and Noises” and “Provocate” (songs that exuded perpetual rebellion and an unquenchable desire for “class” confrontation). It was a very good record, but due to a lack of promotion (radio stations didn’t play French artists singing in English), it didn’t sell very well. Only 800 copies were allegedly sold and the rest of the stock was pulped… Initially, the three tracks were to be included on a LP that never came to be, since they were dropped by Polydor (“Let’s say we sometimes caused a ruckus in their offices!” laughs Tristam.) In order to perfect the long-awaited LP, the band recorded demos of other tracks. There was a cover of Pink Floyd's “Lucifer Sam” from the Syd Barrett era – proof of an enduring love for the sixties’ greats –, “Wake Up” a hangover tale and “Bad Heart” about the Baader-Meinhof gang, whose actions had a profound impact on the era and on a generation seeking extreme dissent... On the album you’re now discovering, you can also hear five previously unreleased tracks recorded a bit later during an extended and freezing stay in Madrid, in a makeshift studio with the invaluable help of a drummer also acting as sound engineer. He was both an enthusiastic old hippie and a proper whizz at sound engineering. Here too, certain influences from the fifties and sixties (Link Wray, the Troggs) are more than obvious in the band’s music.

Shortly after a final stormy and rather barbaric (on the audience’s side) “Punk night” at the Olympia in June 1978, Tristam left the band ; his bandmates continued without him for a short while.

But like most pioneering punk bands of the era, Guilty Razors eventually split up for good after three years (besides once in Spain, they’d only played in Paris). The reason for ceasing business activities were more or less the same for everyone: there were no venues outside one’s small circuit to play this kind of rock music, which was still frightening, unknown, or of little interest to most people. The chances of recording an LP were virtually null, since major labels were only signing unoriginal but reassuring sub-Téléphone clones, and the smaller ones were only interested in progressive rock or French chanson for youth clubs. And what about self-production? No one in our small safety-pinned world had thought about it yet. There wasn’t enough money to embark on that sort of venture anyway.

So yes, the early days of punk in France were truly No Future!

The track ‘Atrium’ was born during the Dream 3 sessions, on a day where it was just Claire and I in the studio. It wasn’t rehearsed at all before we started recording it. All I really had was the main guitar riff in drop D, inspired by the Rob Crow stylings of Heavy Vegetable and Thingy. The lyrics came quickly and received almost no editing. They circled around feelings of resentment, heartbreak and the idea that a sturdy love for oneself is necessary before you can truly love others. This release includes 2 B Sides from GOON’s critically acclaimed Dream 3 LP available on 7” vinyl for the first time.

Real Bad Man and YUNGMORPHEUS are excited to announce their new album The Chalice & The Blade is out now. The album features Boldy James, Kool Keith, Grip, Blu, Fatboi Sharif, and more.

YUNGMORPHEUS is a highly innovative rapper that consistently endeavors to redefine the boundaries of originality and elevate the art of lyricism. Earlier this year, YUNGMORPHEUS dropped his critically acclaimed album “From Whence It Came” which received praise from The FADER, NPR, SPIN, and was hailed by QUIP Mag as “Everything you need from a hip-hop record.”

Since 2020, Prolific LA-based producer and designer Adam Weissman (Real Bad Man) has been on a sensational run releasing albums with Boldy James, Smoke DZA, and Pink Siifu. The Chalice & The Blade will be Real Bad Man’s third album of the year following his remarkable collaborations with Blu (“Bad News”) and Kool Keith (“Serpent”).

The Chalice & The Blade showcases a unique ambiance marked by a stoney and atmospheric quality, interspersed with elements of funk. Real Bad Man explains the album making process, "I always tailor the music to the artist I’m collaborating with. I sent Morpheus a bunch of beats that he’d sound good over and once he started picking them, that set the path. We’d record and I’d make more beats, and move stuff around, get rid of some songs and record new ones. It was a good process. I like being able to adjust as we go, I think that makes for a good album. We left some songs on the cutting room floor. Cream rises."

YUNGMORPHEUS discussing the new album, “‘The Chalice & The Blade’ is an album primarily rooted in dichotomies; contemplation of action vs action itself, inner locus vs outer locus, pursuit for self vs pursuit for others. Honesty is always the centerpiece. Play if you want cause I’m not!”

On The Chalice & The Blade, the seamless synergy between Real Bad Man and YUNGMORPHEUS takes center stage, showcasing an extraordinary chemistry that elevates every track to new heights of musical innovation.

Death Is Not The End present a further volume of Arja Kastinen's eerie amalgamations of 110 year old wax cylinders with her own meticulously transcribed takes, this time focussing in on Armas Otto Väisänen's field recordings of kantele player Iivana Mišukka (b. 1861 d.1919).

"Ivana Mišukka (1861–1919) was one of the Karelian kantele players recorded by the folk music researcher Armas Otto Väisänen on wax cylinders in 1916 and 1917. In the early 20th century, the remote areas of Border Karelia were undergoing the final phase of a transformation in musical culture, with the ancient runo song tradition giving way to newer forms of music. This transition is reflected in Mišukka's repertoire and choice of instrument. The ancient small kantele, hollowed out of a single piece of wood, was already rare at the turn of the century. Mišukka's kantele was a new type of instrument with 26 strings, constructed of several parts, but he played it using the traditional plucking technique. Like other Border Karelian kantele players, his repertoire consisted of music rooted in runosong culture, as well as newer dances and songs from the east and west. Most of the recorded material falls into the latter category.

Ivan Bogdanov Mišukka was born out of wedlock in Suursara village, Suistamo, on 1 May 1861. He began playing the kantele at the age of five or six, quickly mastering the instrument. In adulthood, he was considered one of the area's best master players. Mišukka was landless for most of his life and lived in different parts of the Suistamo parish. His first wife, Tekla Markintytär, died in 1897 at the age of 40, and his second wife, Jevdokia Filipintytär Jeminen, died in 1907 at the age of 50. Seven children were born from the first marriage, two of whom died young. The third wife, Maria Ignatintytär Gurnan (Kuurnanen), was a well-known master of lamentations. Together with Maria, Iivana Mišukka worked as a tenant farmer in the village of Suursara. Mišukka suffered from rheumatism, which prevented him from participating in physical work like Maria. This was apparently partly the reason why Iivana Mišukka went to earn extra money by playing the kantele on gig trips. He often had other traditional artists from Suistamo as his travelling companions, such as the runosingers Konstantin Kuokka and Iivana Onoila. Iivana Mišukka died in Leppäsyrjä village, Suistamo, on 18 May 1919 at the age of 58, and his kantele was donated to Teppana Jänis.

Mišukka only used 14 of the 26 strings on his kantele, playing the same tunes either a fourth higher or lower. He tuned his kantele to the major scale using fifths, except for a low seventh scale degree on the upper strings, but not below the fundamental. Since he did not use the seventh note of the scale on the upper strings at all, he could use the major scale both lower and a fourth higher with this tuning. According to Mišukka, the sound of higher, or 'finer', strings is 'more beautiful', while that of lower ones is 'greater'. Among runosingers, the size of the thirds varied, ranging from major to minor to neutral. A similar phenomenon can be observed in kantele tunings, where the third, sixth and seventh scale degrees vary in a comparable way.

During a meeting, Väisänen suggested that Mišukka play the smaller kantele belonging to Konstantin Kuokka. The idea was to bring it closer to the horn to improve the recording quality. However, the kantele was completely out of tune, and now Mišukka tuned it to the Lydian scale (track 18).

Using the old plucking technique, Mišukka placed his right middle finger on the fundamental tone, his right index finger on the second scale degree, his left middle finger on the third scale degree and his left index finger on the fourth scale degree, and his right thumb on the fifth. The thumb also played the notes above the fifth note of the scale. As Mišukka remarked to Väisänen: 'Peigaloll' tuloo enemb ruadoa' (the thumb has to do more work). However, he did not use the seventh note of the scale on the upper strings at all. Below the fundamental note, he played the seventh and sixth notes of the scale with his right middle finger of and the fifth note of the scale with his right ring finger. This fifth scale degree below the fundamental is almost always used as a drone. Sometimes, when the melody required it, Mišukka, like other players, also varied the fingering. He would also occasionally strike the same string with the side of his fingernail after plucking it.

The wax cylinder recordings of Karelian kantele players are kept in the archives of the Finnish Literature Society in Helsinki, Finland. Copies were made of them onto reel-to-reel tapes in both the 1960s and 1980s. The 1960s copies are mono and the 1980s copies are stereo. However, not all kantele recordings from these decades have survived.

The sound of the kantele is difficult to hear in wax cylinder recordings due to its low volume, and it occasionally becomes completely obscured by noise. During the copying process, the cylinder sometimes rotates unevenly, resulting in breaks or jumps in the music. Additionally, the rotation speed of the cylinder in the copies does not correspond to the performance speed of the original music, which alters the pitch. However, since Väisänen's precise notes are available in the archive, it is possible to deduce the melodies, their speed, and the tuning level of the kantele in the recordings. Of the copies of the original recordings from the 1960s and 1980s, I have selected the one that best met the requirements of this publication and adjusted the speed of the recording to align with Väisänen's notes. To enhance the listening experience, I have replayed the songs, which now partly overlap the old recordings on this release."

— Arja Kastinen

Death Is Not The End present a further volume of Arja Kastinen's eerie amalgamations of 110 year old wax cylinders with her own meticulously transcribed takes, this time focussing in on Armas Otto Väisänen's field recordings of kantele player Iivana Mišukka (b. 1861 d.1919).

"Ivana Mišukka (1861–1919) was one of the Karelian kantele players recorded by the folk music researcher Armas Otto Väisänen on wax cylinders in 1916 and 1917. In the early 20th century, the remote areas of Border Karelia were undergoing the final phase of a transformation in musical culture, with the ancient runo song tradition giving way to newer forms of music. This transition is reflected in Mišukka's repertoire and choice of instrument. The ancient small kantele, hollowed out of a single piece of wood, was already rare at the turn of the century. Mišukka's kantele was a new type of instrument with 26 strings, constructed of several parts, but he played it using the traditional plucking technique. Like other Border Karelian kantele players, his repertoire consisted of music rooted in runosong culture, as well as newer dances and songs from the east and west. Most of the recorded material falls into the latter category.

Ivan Bogdanov Mišukka was born out of wedlock in Suursara village, Suistamo, on 1 May 1861. He began playing the kantele at the age of five or six, quickly mastering the instrument. In adulthood, he was considered one of the area's best master players. Mišukka was landless for most of his life and lived in different parts of the Suistamo parish. His first wife, Tekla Markintytär, died in 1897 at the age of 40, and his second wife, Jevdokia Filipintytär Jeminen, died in 1907 at the age of 50. Seven children were born from the first marriage, two of whom died young. The third wife, Maria Ignatintytär Gurnan (Kuurnanen), was a well-known master of lamentations. Together with Maria, Iivana Mišukka worked as a tenant farmer in the village of Suursara. Mišukka suffered from rheumatism, which prevented him from participating in physical work like Maria. This was apparently partly the reason why Iivana Mišukka went to earn extra money by playing the kantele on gig trips. He often had other traditional artists from Suistamo as his travelling companions, such as the runosingers Konstantin Kuokka and Iivana Onoila. Iivana Mišukka died in Leppäsyrjä village, Suistamo, on 18 May 1919 at the age of 58, and his kantele was donated to Teppana Jänis.

Mišukka only used 14 of the 26 strings on his kantele, playing the same tunes either a fourth higher or lower. He tuned his kantele to the major scale using fifths, except for a low seventh scale degree on the upper strings, but not below the fundamental. Since he did not use the seventh note of the scale on the upper strings at all, he could use the major scale both lower and a fourth higher with this tuning. According to Mišukka, the sound of higher, or 'finer', strings is 'more beautiful', while that of lower ones is 'greater'. Among runosingers, the size of the thirds varied, ranging from major to minor to neutral. A similar phenomenon can be observed in kantele tunings, where the third, sixth and seventh scale degrees vary in a comparable way.

During a meeting, Väisänen suggested that Mišukka play the smaller kantele belonging to Konstantin Kuokka. The idea was to bring it closer to the horn to improve the recording quality. However, the kantele was completely out of tune, and now Mišukka tuned it to the Lydian scale (track 18).

Using the old plucking technique, Mišukka placed his right middle finger on the fundamental tone, his right index finger on the second scale degree, his left middle finger on the third scale degree and his left index finger on the fourth scale degree, and his right thumb on the fifth. The thumb also played the notes above the fifth note of the scale. As Mišukka remarked to Väisänen: 'Peigaloll' tuloo enemb ruadoa' (the thumb has to do more work). However, he did not use the seventh note of the scale on the upper strings at all. Below the fundamental note, he played the seventh and sixth notes of the scale with his right middle finger of and the fifth note of the scale with his right ring finger. This fifth scale degree below the fundamental is almost always used as a drone. Sometimes, when the melody required it, Mišukka, like other players, also varied the fingering. He would also occasionally strike the same string with the side of his fingernail after plucking it.

The wax cylinder recordings of Karelian kantele players are kept in the archives of the Finnish Literature Society in Helsinki, Finland. Copies were made of them onto reel-to-reel tapes in both the 1960s and 1980s. The 1960s copies are mono and the 1980s copies are stereo. However, not all kantele recordings from these decades have survived.

The sound of the kantele is difficult to hear in wax cylinder recordings due to its low volume, and it occasionally becomes completely obscured by noise. During the copying process, the cylinder sometimes rotates unevenly, resulting in breaks or jumps in the music. Additionally, the rotation speed of the cylinder in the copies does not correspond to the performance speed of the original music, which alters the pitch. However, since Väisänen's precise notes are available in the archive, it is possible to deduce the melodies, their speed, and the tuning level of the kantele in the recordings. Of the copies of the original recordings from the 1960s and 1980s, I have selected the one that best met the requirements of this publication and adjusted the speed of the recording to align with Väisänen's notes. To enhance the listening experience, I have replayed the songs, which now partly overlap the old recordings on this release."

— Arja Kastinen

Coming out of some serious health issues which undermined his singing capacity, Jon came back with this solo album which can easily be rated among his best ever. The album has a convincing spiritual mood enriched by means of an intelligent variety of tunes, from the most religious ones, to more symphonic compositions à-la "Jon & Vangelis”. His old buddy Rick Wakeman appears on this album along with other brilliant musicians who are able to create a very organic work as a whole. It is a wonderful, a hugely enjoyable musical, spiritual, and vocal journey with one of rock's most important contributors.

Two percussionists, one sound universe. With “All you can BEAT,” Double Drums serve up an energetic and surpri-singly versatile percussion album. The two exceptional musicians have been performing together on stage for 20 years now. In addition to numerous concerts in Germany, they have also performed throughout Europe and Asia.
Now Alex Glöggler and Philipp Jungk are celebrating their anniversary with a work that showcases their entire musi-cal range: from driving rhythms to a multifaceted soundscape to moments of great emotion. “All you can BEAT” is a tribute to everything percussion can be: powerful, delicate, wild, and touching at the same time.

On the one hand, there are rousing original compositions such as “One More Time” and “Hydra,” about which the rhythm artists say: "The music is inspired by the many-headed monster Hydra from Greek mythology. When it loses a head, two new ones grow back. Musically, new patterns or rhythmic elements are constantly being added, overlap-ping each other and pushing others into the background. The result is minimal music based on an energizing flow with a focus on the marimba."

"deathcrash’s third album, Somersaults, glimmers with an everyday euphoria. The London-based slowcore/ post-rock quartet has always had an affinity for building worlds only to crush them. From their breakout EP, People thought my windows were stars (2021), through two critically acclaimed studio albums, Return (2022) and Less (2023), they have been both the architects and the destroyers, the creationists and the ones manning the flood barrier. But, recorded between Black Box Studio in the Loire Valley and Haggerston’s Holy Mountain, Somersaults is almost joyful.

Its ten tracks are more vocal heavy than any of the band’s catalogue – think Mark Linkous via The Kinks – but lyrically, Somersaults resists revelation. For all its abrasion, phrases appear half-swallowed, broken off at the edge of meaning, consumed by the smaller textures of living. “Thirty, no career, it fucking worries me / And doing the band doesn’t help,” Banks sings in ‘NYC’. But, “This life is the best life,” he finishes in ‘CMC’ on top of the ambient white noise of an office printer, thankful that the band is still there, “still making noise in the doorway.”

Their role as caretakers of Duster, Low and Codeine’s slowcore lineage is all across Somersaults – songs scud to a narcotic crawl, sound monolithic and inwards before spotlighting a crystalline nothing. Cathartic builds are muddied with tenderness, the bass a heavy grounding, the drums an exhausted heartbeat grasping for air. But more so than ever, even the silence feels collaborative – a gesture of communal trust – friends celebrating the room they’ve made for each other’s ghosts, and some of the biggest, brightest songs they’ve made to date."