Buscar:the owl

Two of the UKs finest Lyricists Leaf Dog & BVA (from the Four Owls) spit fire over a killer Jazz T produced rhythm.

The second volume of El Búho's "Tributaries" remix compilation series brings together 14 more remixes from UK born producer and remix extraordinaire Robin Perkins aka El Búho. Building on 2018's first volume, the evolution of the producer's sound and influences becomes clear. The album is threaded together by reinterpretations of traditional music in a new electronic-organic context. Be it Galician, Estonian, Colombian, Irish, Garifuna, Reunionnaise or Frenchfolkmusic, El Búho makes his own unique tribute to the originals, bringing them into his owlish universe.

The album mixes club-ready bangers with beautiful and moving interpretations, easily making sense both in your living room or behind the decks. We are treated to a wide delta of influences, styles and sounds, moving between the slow, psychedelic electronic cumbia take on Chadian group Pulo NDJ's Dabadji Am Alcorama across the Atlantic to the upbeat, dancefloor fire remix of Garifuna Collective Ideruni, from an anthemic version of No Más Velorio by Colombia's Plu Con Pla to a refreshing, driving remix of up and coming Reunionnaise producer Eat My Butterfly.

Tributaries offers both a nod to the past, paying tribute to traditions andfolkmusic around the world, and a vision of the future, carving out new channels and directions, transporting the flows of the past into the future.




d 04: Biomigrant - La Muerte (El Búho Remix) feat. Toño García & Fredys Arrieta
[e] 05: Eat My Butterfly - Dann Ton Zié (El Búho Remix) [feat. Sibu Manaï]

[g] 07: The Garifuna Collective - Ideruni (Help) [El Búho Remix]

MP3 album download included. Best New Music… 9.2 // ‘Dear Science’ cuts through genres like a laser through a music encyclopaedia, making strange connections, but always with pop clarity as the ultimate aim. — NME // Dear Science reprograms old‐school rock thrills for an ear‐budded nation, using surprising juxtapositions to explode familiar sounds. — Rolling Stone // (Dear Science) boldly took guitars where no album had gone before. And it did so with more creativity, daring and flair than any record since Radiohead's OK Computer. — The Guardian // The band’s third studio album released in 2008, Dear Science, opened with vintage TVOTR, but the nostalgia does not last. With Dear Science, the band continue to push the limit with sonic experiments that fill out the rest of the album. Track Listing: 1 Halfway Home 2 Crying 3 Dancing Choose 4 Stork & Owl 5 Golden Age 6 Family Tree 7 Red Dress 8 Love Dog 9 Shout Me Out 10 DLZ 11 Lover’s Day

MP3 album download included. Best New Music… 9.2 // ‘Dear Science’ cuts through genres like a laser through a music encyclopaedia, making strange connections, but always with pop clarity as the ultimate aim. — NME // Dear Science reprograms old‐school rock thrills for an ear‐budded nation, using surprising juxtapositions to explode familiar sounds. — Rolling Stone // (Dear Science) boldly took guitars where no album had gone before. And it did so with more creativity, daring and flair than any record since Radiohead's OK Computer. — The Guardian // The band’s third studio album released in 2008, Dear Science, opened with vintage TVOTR, but the nostalgia does not last. With Dear Science, the band continue to push the limit with sonic experiments that fill out the rest of the album. Track Listing: 1 Halfway Home 2 Crying 3 Dancing Choose 4 Stork & Owl 5 Golden Age 6 Family Tree 7 Red Dress 8 Love Dog 9 Shout Me Out 10 DLZ 11 Lover’s Day

With Echo’s Reach Isla Craig presents a sophisticated set of compositions that perfectly wrap her Highland influenced melodies in an organic blanket of musical peat formed from a mix of jazz, R&B and psychedelic folk. Leading a band of Toronto’s finest including Ted Crosby (sax) Mike Smith (bass) and Evan Cartwright (drums), Isla showcases her affecting vocal presence that has made her an in-demand collaborator with artists such as Jennifer Castle and The Cosmic Range. An autumnal record influenced by the power of nature often found steps away from city streets, a diary of days spent within the valleys of Toronto, the moors of Scotland and the Irish countryside, Echo’s Reach is a tribute to the infinite and the resilence of those who forever seek to understand its meaning. Genre: Alternative / Folk / Singer-songwriter Listen: https://s.disco.ac/honhrdcdqjal Track list: 1. Song For Boots 2. Moon 3. Spider Owl 4. Spirit 5. Psyche (Valley, Girl) 6. I Went Looking 7. Weather 8. Young Woman 9. Psyche (Valley, Girl) reprise

As the sun sets on a quaint East Nashville house, a young man bares a piece of his soul. Facing the camera, sporting a silky suit jacket/shirt/slacks/fingerless gloves ensemble that announces "singer" before he's even opened his mouth, Lee Tracy Johnson settles onto his stage, the front yard. He sways to the dirge-like drum machine pulse of a synth-soaked slow jam, extends his arms as if gaining his balance, and croons in affecting, fragile earnest, "I need your love… oh baby…"

Dogs in the yard next door begin barking. A mysterious cardboard robot figure, beamed in from galaxies unknown and affixed to a tree, is less vocal. Lee doesn't acknowledge either's presence. He's busy feeling it, arms and hands gesticulating. His voice rises in falsetto over the now-quiet dogs, over the ambient noise from the street that seeps into the handheld camcorder's microphone, over the recording of his own voice played back from a boombox off-camera. After six minutes the single, continuous shot ends. In this intimate creative universe there are no re-takes. There are many more music videos to shoot, and as Lee later puts it, "The first time you do it is actually the best. Because you can never get that again. You expressing yourself from within."

"I Need Your Love" dates from a lost heyday. From some time in the '80s or early '90s, when Lee Tracy (as he was known in performance) and his music partner/producer/manager Isaac Manning committed hours upon hours of their sonic and visual ideas to tape. Embracing drum machines and synthesizers – electronics that made their personal futurism palpable – they recorded exclusively at home, live in a room into a simple cassette deck. Soul, funk, electro and new wave informed their songs, yet Lee and Isaac eschewed the confinement of conventional categories and genres, preferring to let experimentation guide them.

"Anytime somebody put out a new record they had the same instruments or the same sound," explains Isaac. "So I basically wanted to find something that's really gonna stand out away from all of the rest of 'em." Their ethos meant that every idea they came up with was at least worth trying: echoed out half-rapped exhortations over frantic techno-style beats, gospel synth soul, modal electro-funk, oddball pop reinterpretations, emo AOR balladry, nods to Prince and the Fat Boys, or arrangements that might collapse mid-song into a mess of arcade game-ish blips before rallying to reach the finish line. All of it conjoined by consistent tape hiss, and most vitally, Lee's chameleonic voice, which managed to wildly shape shift and still evoke something sincere – whether toggling between falsetto and tenor exalting Jesus's return, or punctuating a melismatic romantic adlib with a succinct, "We all know how it feels to be alone."

"People think we went to a studio," says Isaac derisively. "We never went to no studio. We didn't have the money to go to no studio! We did this stuff at home. I shot videos in my front yard with whatever we could to get things together." Sometimes Isaac would just put on an instrumental record, be it "Planet Rock" or "Don't Cry For Me Argentina" (from Evita), press "record," and let Lee improvise over it, yielding peculiar love songs, would-be patriotic anthems, or Elvis Presley or Marilyn Monroe tributes. Technical limitations and a lack of professional polish never dissuaded them. They believed they were onto something.

"That struggle," Isaac says, "made that sound sound good to me."

In the parlance of modern music criticism Lee and Isaac's dizzying DIY efforts would inevitably be described as "outsider." But "outsider" carries the burden of untold additional layers of meaning if you're Black and from the South, creating on a budget, and trying to get someone, anyone within the country music capital of the world to take your vision seriously. "What category should we put it in?" Isaac asks rhetorically. "I don't know. All I know is feeling. I ain't gonna name it nothing. It's music. If it grabs your soul and touch your heart that's what it basically is supposed to do."

=

Born in 1963, the baby boy of nine siblings, Lee Tracy spent his earliest years living amidst the shotgun houses on Nashville's south side. "We was poor, man!" he says, recalling the outhouse his family used for a bathroom and the blocks of ice they kept in the kitchen to chill perishables. "But I actually don't think I really realized I was in poverty until I got grown and started thinking about it." Lee's mom worked at the Holiday Inn; his dad did whatever he had to do, from selling fruit from a horse drawn cart to bootlegging. "We didn't have much," Lee continues, "but my mother and my father got us the things we needed, the clothes on our back." By the end of the decade with the city's urban renewal programs razing entire neighborhoods to accommodate construction of the Interstate, the family moved to Edgehill Projects. Lee remembers music and art as a constant source of inspiration for he and his brothers and sisters – especially after seeing the Jackson 5 perform on Ed Sullivan. "As a small child I just knew that was what I wanted to do."

His older brother Don began musically mentoring him, introducing Lee to a variety of instruments and sounds. "He would never play one particular type of music, like R&B," says Lee. "I was surrounded by jazz, hard rock and roll, easy listening, gospel, reggae, country music; I mean I was a sponge absorbing all of that." Lee taught himself to play drums by beating on cardboard boxes, gaining a rep around the way for his timekeeping, and his singing voice. Emulating his favorites, Earth Wind & Fire and Cameo, he formed groups with other kids with era-evocative band names like Concept and TNT Connection, and emerged as the leader of disciplined rehearsals. "I made them practice," says Lee. "We practiced and practiced and practiced. Because I wanted that perfection." By high school the most accomplished of these bands would take top prize in a prominent local talent show. It was a big moment for Lee, and he felt ready to take things to the next level. But his band-mates had other ideas.

"I don't know what happened," he says, still miffed at the memory. "It must have blew they mind after we won and people started showing notice, because it's like everybody quit! I was like, where the hell did everybody go?" Lee had always made a point of interrogating prospective musicians about their intentions before joining his groups: were they really serious or just looking for a way to pick up girls? Now he understood even more the importance of finding a collaborator just as committed to the music as he was.

=

Isaac Manning had spent much of his life immersed in music and the arts – singing in the church choir with his family on Nashville's north side, writing, painting, dancing, and working various gigs within the entertainment industry. After serving in the armed forces, in the early '70s he ran The Teenage Place, a music and performance venue that catered to the local youth. But he was forced out of town when word of one of his recreational routines created a stir beyond the safe haven of his bohemian circles.

"I was growing marijuana," Isaac explains. "It wasn't no business, I was smoking it myself… I would put marijuana in scrambled eggs, cornbread and stuff." His weed use originated as a form of self-medication to combat severe tooth pain. But when he began sharing it with some of the other young people he hung out with, some of who just so happened to be the kids of Nashville politicians, the cops came calling. "When I got busted," he remembers, "they were talking about how they were gonna get rid of me because they didn't want me saying nothing about they children because of the politics and stuff. So I got my family, took two raggedy cars, and left Nashville and went to Vegas."

Out in the desert, Isaac happened to meet Chubby Checker of "The Twist" fame while the singer was gigging at The Flamingo. Impressed by Isaac's zeal, Checker invited him to go on the road with him as his tour manager/roadie/valet. The experience gave Isaac a window into a part of the entertainment world he'd never encountered – a glimpse of what a true pop act's audience looked like. "Chubby Checker, none of his shows were played for Black folks," he remembers. "All his gigs were done at high-class white people areas." Returning home after a few years with Chubby, Isaac was properly motivated to make it in Music City. He began writing songs and scouting around Nashville for local talent anywhere he could find it with an expressed goal: "Find someone who can deliver your songs the way you want 'em delivered and make people feel what you want them to feel."

One day while walking through Edgehill Projects Isaac heard someone playing the drums in a way that made him stop and take notice. "The music was so tight, just the drums made me feel like, oh I'm-a find this person," he recalls. "So I circled through the projects until I found who it was.

"That's how I met him – Lee Tracy. When I found him and he started singing and stuff, I said, ohhh, this is somebody different."

=

Theirs was a true complementary partnership: young Lee possessed the raw talent, the older Isaac the belief. "He's really the only one besides my brother and my family that really seen the potential in me," says Lee. "He made me see that I could do it."

Isaac long being a night owl, his house also made for a fertile collaborative environment – a space where there always seemed to be a new piece of his visual art on display: paintings, illustrations, and dolls and figures (including an enigmatic cardboard robot). Lee and Issac would hang out together and talk, listen to music, conjure ideas, and smoke the herb Isaac had resumed growing in his yard. "It got to where I could trust him, he could trust me," Isaac says of their bond. They also worked together for hours on drawings, spreading larges rolls of paper on the walls and sketching faces with abstract patterns and imagery: alien-like beings, tri-horned horse heads, inverted Janus-like characters where one visage blurred into the other.

Soon it became apparent that they didn't need other collaborators; self-sufficiency was the natural way forward. At Isaac's behest Lee, already fed up with dealing with band musicians, began playing around with a poly-sonic Yamaha keyboard at the local music store. "It had everything on it – trumpet, bass, drums, organ," remembers Lee. "And that's when I started recording my own stuff."

The technology afforded Lee the flexibility and independence he craved, setting him on a path other bedroom musicians and producers around the world were simultaneously following through the '80s into the early '90s. Saving up money from day jobs, he eventually supplemented the Yamaha Isaac had gotten him with Roland and Casio drum machines and a Moog. Lee was living in an apartment in Hillside at that point caring for his dad, who'd been partially paralyzed since early in life. In the evenings up in his second floor room, the music put him in a zone where he could tune out everything and lose himself in his ideas.

"Oh I loved it," he recalls. "I would really experiment with the instruments and use a lot of different sound effects. I was looking for something nobody else had. I wanted something totally different. And once I found the sound I was looking for, I would just smoke me a good joint and just let it go, hit the record button." More potent a creative stimulant than even Isaac's weed was the holistic flow and spontaneity of recording. Between sessions at Isaac's place and Lee's apartment, their volume of output quickly ballooned.

"We was always recording," says Lee. "That's why we have so much music. Even when I went to Isaac's and we start creating, I get home, my mind is racing, I gotta start creating, creating, creating. I remember there were times when I took a 90-minute tape from front to back and just filled it up."

"We never practiced," says Isaac. "See, that was just so odd about the whole thing. I could relate to him, and tell him about the songs I had ideas for and everything and stuff. And then he would bring it back or whatever, and we'd get together and put it down." Once the taskmaster hell bent on rehearsing, Lee had flipped a full 180. Perfection was no longer an aspiration, but the enemy of inspiration.

"I seen where practicing and practicing got me," says Lee. "A lot of musicians you get to playing and they gotta stop, they have to analyze the music. But while you analyzing you losing a lot of the greatness of what you creating. Stop analyzing what you play, just play! And it'll all take shape."

=

"I hope you understood the beginning of the record because this was invented from a dream I had today… (You tell me, I'll tell you, we'll figure it out together)" – Lee Tracy and Isaac Manning, "Hope You Understand"

Lee lets loose a maniacal cackle when he acknowledges that the material that he and Isaac recorded was by anyone's estimation pretty out there. It's the same laugh that commences "Hope You Understand" – a chaotic transmission that encapsulates the duality at the heart of their music: a stated desire to reach people and a compulsion to go as leftfield as they saw fit.

"We just did it," says Lee. "We cut the music on and cut loose. I don't sit around and write. I do it by listening, get a feeling, play the music, and the lyrics and stuff just come out of me."

The approach proved adaptable to interpreting other artists' material. While recording a cover of Whitney Houston's pop ballad "Saving All My Love For You," Lee played Whitney's version in his headphones as he laid down his own vocals – partially following the lyrics, partially using them as a departure point. The end result is barely recognizable compared with the original, Lee and Isaac having switched up the time signature and reinvented the melody along the way towards morphing a slick mainstream radio standard into something that sounds solely their own.

"I really used that song to get me started," says Lee. "Then I said, well I need something else, something is missing. Something just came over me. That's when I came up with 'Is It What You Want.'"

The song would become the centerpiece of Lee and Isaac's repertoire. Pushed along by a percolating metronomic Rhythm King style beat somewhere between a military march and a samba, "Is It What You Want" finds Lee pleading the sincerity of his commitment to a potential love interest embellished by vocal tics and hiccups subtlely reminiscent of his childhood hero MJ. Absent chord changes, only synth riffs gliding in and out like apparitions, the song achieves a lingering lo-fi power that leaves you feeling like it's still playing, somewhere, even after the fade out.

"I don't know, it's like a real spiritual song," Lee reflects. "But it's not just spiritual. To me the more I listen to it it's like about everything that you do in your everyday life, period. Is it what you want? Do you want a car or you don't want a car? Do you want Jesus or do you want the Devil? It's basically asking you the question. Can't nobody answer the question but you yourself."

In 1989 Lee won a lawsuit stemming from injuries sustained from a fight he'd gotten into. He took part of the settlement money and with Isaac pressed up "Saving All My Love For You" b/w "Is It What You Want" as a 45 single. Isaac christened the label One Chance Records. "Because that's all we wanted," he says with a laugh, "one chance."

Isaac sent the record out to radio stations and major labels, hoping for it to make enough noise to get picked up nationally. But the response he and Lee were hoping for never materialized. According to Isaac the closest the single got to getting played on the radio is when a disk jock from a local station made a highly unusual announcement on air: "The dude said on the radio, 107.5 – 'We are not gonna play 'Is It What You Want.' We cracked up! Wow, that's deep.

"It was a whole racist thing that was going on," he reflects. "So we just looked over and kept on going. That was it. That was about the way it goes… If you were Black and you were living in Nashville and stuff, that's the way you got treated." Isaac already knew as much from all the times he'd brought he and Lee's tapes (even their cache of country music tunes) over to Music Row to try to drum up interest to no avail.

"Isaac, he really worked his ass off," says Lee. "He probably been to every record place down on Music Row." Nashville's famed recording and music business corridor wasn't but a few blocks from where Lee grew up. Close enough, he remembers, for him to ride his bike along its back alleys and stumble upon the occasional random treasure, like a discarded box of harmonicas. Getting in through the front door, however, still felt a world away.

"I just don't think at the time our music fell into a category for them," he concedes. "It was before its time."

=

Lee stopped making music some time in the latter part of the '90s, around the time his mom passed away and life became increasingly tough to manage. "When my mother died I had a nervous breakdown," he says, "So I shut down for a long time. I was in such a sadness frame of mind. That's why nobody seen me. I had just disappeared off the map." He fell out of touch with Isaac, and in an indication of just how bad things had gotten for him, lost track of all the recordings they'd made together. Music became a distant memory.

Fortunately, Isaac kept the faith. In a self-published collection of his poetry – paeans to some of his favorite entertainment and public figures entitled Friends and Dick Clark – he'd written that he believed "music has a life of its own." But his prescience and presence of mind were truly manifested in the fact that he kept an archive of he and Lee's work. As perfectly imperfect as "Is It What You Want" now sounds in a post-Personal Space world, Lee and Isaac's lone official release was in fact just a taste. The bulk of the Is It What You Want album is culled from the pair's essentially unheard home recordings – complete songs, half-realized experiments, Isaac's blue monologues and pronouncements et al – compiled, mixed and programmed in the loose and impulsive creative spirit of their regular get-togethers from decades ago. The rest of us, it seems, may have finally caught up to them.

On the prospect of at long last reaching a wider audience, Isaac says simply, "I been trying for a long time, it feels good." Ever the survivor, he adds, "The only way I know how to make it to the top is to keep climbing. If one leg break on the ladder, hey, you gotta fix it and keep on going… That's where I be at. I'll kill death to make it out there."

For Lee it all feels akin to a personal resurrection: "It's like I was in a tomb and the tomb was opened and I'm back… Man, it feels so great. I feel like I'm gonna jump out of my skin." Success at this stage of his life, he realizes, probably means something different than what it did back when he was singing and dancing in Isaac's front yard. "What I really mean by 'making it,'" he explains isn't just the music being heard but, "the story being told."

Occasionally Lee will pull up "Is It What You Want" on YouTube on his phone, put on his headphones, and listen. He remembers the first time he heard his recorded voice. How surreal it was, how he thought to himself, "Is that really me?" What would he say to that younger version of himself now?

"I would probably tell myself, hang in there, don't give up. Keep striving for the goal. And everything will work out."

Despite what's printed on the record label, sometimes you do get more than one chance.

Founded by Markus Siegenhort (Lantlos), Christian Kolf (Valborg, Owl)
and Dirk Stark, Labyrinth of Stars (LOS) present their stunning debut
record entitled 'Spectrum Xenomorph'
Eight tracks of purely dissonant otherworldly Death Metal intertwined with
ancient technologies, cold extraterrestrial steel and xenomorphic entities.
Labyrinth of Stars encapsulate disorientation in deep space and the bright horror
of ethereal beauty in the aural form.

As the sun sets on a quaint East Nashville house, a young man bares a piece of his soul. Facing the camera, sporting a silky suit jacket/shirt/slacks/fingerless gloves ensemble that announces "singer" before he's even opened his mouth, Lee Tracy Johnson settles onto his stage, the front yard. He sways to the dirge-like drum machine pulse of a synth-soaked slow jam, extends his arms as if gaining his balance, and croons in affecting, fragile earnest, "I need your love… oh baby…"

Dogs in the yard next door begin barking. A mysterious cardboard robot figure, beamed in from galaxies unknown and affixed to a tree, is less vocal. Lee doesn't acknowledge either's presence. He's busy feeling it, arms and hands gesticulating. His voice rises in falsetto over the now-quiet dogs, over the ambient noise from the street that seeps into the handheld camcorder's microphone, over the recording of his own voice played back from a boombox off-camera. After six minutes the single, continuous shot ends. In this intimate creative universe there are no re-takes. There are many more music videos to shoot, and as Lee later puts it, "The first time you do it is actually the best. Because you can never get that again. You expressing yourself from within."

"I Need Your Love" dates from a lost heyday. From some time in the '80s or early '90s, when Lee Tracy (as he was known in performance) and his music partner/producer/manager Isaac Manning committed hours upon hours of their sonic and visual ideas to tape. Embracing drum machines and synthesizers – electronics that made their personal futurism palpable – they recorded exclusively at home, live in a room into a simple cassette deck. Soul, funk, electro and new wave informed their songs, yet Lee and Isaac eschewed the confinement of conventional categories and genres, preferring to let experimentation guide them.

"Anytime somebody put out a new record they had the same instruments or the same sound," explains Isaac. "So I basically wanted to find something that's really gonna stand out away from all of the rest of 'em." Their ethos meant that every idea they came up with was at least worth trying: echoed out half-rapped exhortations over frantic techno-style beats, gospel synth soul, modal electro-funk, oddball pop reinterpretations, emo AOR balladry, nods to Prince and the Fat Boys, or arrangements that might collapse mid-song into a mess of arcade game-ish blips before rallying to reach the finish line. All of it conjoined by consistent tape hiss, and most vitally, Lee's chameleonic voice, which managed to wildly shape shift and still evoke something sincere – whether toggling between falsetto and tenor exalting Jesus's return, or punctuating a melismatic romantic adlib with a succinct, "We all know how it feels to be alone."

"People think we went to a studio," says Isaac derisively. "We never went to no studio. We didn't have the money to go to no studio! We did this stuff at home. I shot videos in my front yard with whatever we could to get things together." Sometimes Isaac would just put on an instrumental record, be it "Planet Rock" or "Don't Cry For Me Argentina" (from Evita), press "record," and let Lee improvise over it, yielding peculiar love songs, would-be patriotic anthems, or Elvis Presley or Marilyn Monroe tributes. Technical limitations and a lack of professional polish never dissuaded them. They believed they were onto something.

"That struggle," Isaac says, "made that sound sound good to me."

In the parlance of modern music criticism Lee and Isaac's dizzying DIY efforts would inevitably be described as "outsider." But "outsider" carries the burden of untold additional layers of meaning if you're Black and from the South, creating on a budget, and trying to get someone, anyone within the country music capital of the world to take your vision seriously. "What category should we put it in?" Isaac asks rhetorically. "I don't know. All I know is feeling. I ain't gonna name it nothing. It's music. If it grabs your soul and touch your heart that's what it basically is supposed to do."

=

Born in 1963, the baby boy of nine siblings, Lee Tracy spent his earliest years living amidst the shotgun houses on Nashville's south side. "We was poor, man!" he says, recalling the outhouse his family used for a bathroom and the blocks of ice they kept in the kitchen to chill perishables. "But I actually don't think I really realized I was in poverty until I got grown and started thinking about it." Lee's mom worked at the Holiday Inn; his dad did whatever he had to do, from selling fruit from a horse drawn cart to bootlegging. "We didn't have much," Lee continues, "but my mother and my father got us the things we needed, the clothes on our back." By the end of the decade with the city's urban renewal programs razing entire neighborhoods to accommodate construction of the Interstate, the family moved to Edgehill Projects. Lee remembers music and art as a constant source of inspiration for he and his brothers and sisters – especially after seeing the Jackson 5 perform on Ed Sullivan. "As a small child I just knew that was what I wanted to do."

His older brother Don began musically mentoring him, introducing Lee to a variety of instruments and sounds. "He would never play one particular type of music, like R&B," says Lee. "I was surrounded by jazz, hard rock and roll, easy listening, gospel, reggae, country music; I mean I was a sponge absorbing all of that." Lee taught himself to play drums by beating on cardboard boxes, gaining a rep around the way for his timekeeping, and his singing voice. Emulating his favorites, Earth Wind & Fire and Cameo, he formed groups with other kids with era-evocative band names like Concept and TNT Connection, and emerged as the leader of disciplined rehearsals. "I made them practice," says Lee. "We practiced and practiced and practiced. Because I wanted that perfection." By high school the most accomplished of these bands would take top prize in a prominent local talent show. It was a big moment for Lee, and he felt ready to take things to the next level. But his band-mates had other ideas.

"I don't know what happened," he says, still miffed at the memory. "It must have blew they mind after we won and people started showing notice, because it's like everybody quit! I was like, where the hell did everybody go?" Lee had always made a point of interrogating prospective musicians about their intentions before joining his groups: were they really serious or just looking for a way to pick up girls? Now he understood even more the importance of finding a collaborator just as committed to the music as he was.

=

Isaac Manning had spent much of his life immersed in music and the arts – singing in the church choir with his family on Nashville's north side, writing, painting, dancing, and working various gigs within the entertainment industry. After serving in the armed forces, in the early '70s he ran The Teenage Place, a music and performance venue that catered to the local youth. But he was forced out of town when word of one of his recreational routines created a stir beyond the safe haven of his bohemian circles.

"I was growing marijuana," Isaac explains. "It wasn't no business, I was smoking it myself… I would put marijuana in scrambled eggs, cornbread and stuff." His weed use originated as a form of self-medication to combat severe tooth pain. But when he began sharing it with some of the other young people he hung out with, some of who just so happened to be the kids of Nashville politicians, the cops came calling. "When I got busted," he remembers, "they were talking about how they were gonna get rid of me because they didn't want me saying nothing about they children because of the politics and stuff. So I got my family, took two raggedy cars, and left Nashville and went to Vegas."

Out in the desert, Isaac happened to meet Chubby Checker of "The Twist" fame while the singer was gigging at The Flamingo. Impressed by Isaac's zeal, Checker invited him to go on the road with him as his tour manager/roadie/valet. The experience gave Isaac a window into a part of the entertainment world he'd never encountered – a glimpse of what a true pop act's audience looked like. "Chubby Checker, none of his shows were played for Black folks," he remembers. "All his gigs were done at high-class white people areas." Returning home after a few years with Chubby, Isaac was properly motivated to make it in Music City. He began writing songs and scouting around Nashville for local talent anywhere he could find it with an expressed goal: "Find someone who can deliver your songs the way you want 'em delivered and make people feel what you want them to feel."

One day while walking through Edgehill Projects Isaac heard someone playing the drums in a way that made him stop and take notice. "The music was so tight, just the drums made me feel like, oh I'm-a find this person," he recalls. "So I circled through the projects until I found who it was.

"That's how I met him – Lee Tracy. When I found him and he started singing and stuff, I said, ohhh, this is somebody different."

=

Theirs was a true complementary partnership: young Lee possessed the raw talent, the older Isaac the belief. "He's really the only one besides my brother and my family that really seen the potential in me," says Lee. "He made me see that I could do it."

Isaac long being a night owl, his house also made for a fertile collaborative environment – a space where there always seemed to be a new piece of his visual art on display: paintings, illustrations, and dolls and figures (including an enigmatic cardboard robot). Lee and Issac would hang out together and talk, listen to music, conjure ideas, and smoke the herb Isaac had resumed growing in his yard. "It got to where I could trust him, he could trust me," Isaac says of their bond. They also worked together for hours on drawings, spreading larges rolls of paper on the walls and sketching faces with abstract patterns and imagery: alien-like beings, tri-horned horse heads, inverted Janus-like characters where one visage blurred into the other.

Soon it became apparent that they didn't need other collaborators; self-sufficiency was the natural way forward. At Isaac's behest Lee, already fed up with dealing with band musicians, began playing around with a poly-sonic Yamaha keyboard at the local music store. "It had everything on it – trumpet, bass, drums, organ," remembers Lee. "And that's when I started recording my own stuff."

The technology afforded Lee the flexibility and independence he craved, setting him on a path other bedroom musicians and producers around the world were simultaneously following through the '80s into the early '90s. Saving up money from day jobs, he eventually supplemented the Yamaha Isaac had gotten him with Roland and Casio drum machines and a Moog. Lee was living in an apartment in Hillside at that point caring for his dad, who'd been partially paralyzed since early in life. In the evenings up in his second floor room, the music put him in a zone where he could tune out everything and lose himself in his ideas.

"Oh I loved it," he recalls. "I would really experiment with the instruments and use a lot of different sound effects. I was looking for something nobody else had. I wanted something totally different. And once I found the sound I was looking for, I would just smoke me a good joint and just let it go, hit the record button." More potent a creative stimulant than even Isaac's weed was the holistic flow and spontaneity of recording. Between sessions at Isaac's place and Lee's apartment, their volume of output quickly ballooned.

"We was always recording," says Lee. "That's why we have so much music. Even when I went to Isaac's and we start creating, I get home, my mind is racing, I gotta start creating, creating, creating. I remember there were times when I took a 90-minute tape from front to back and just filled it up."

"We never practiced," says Isaac. "See, that was just so odd about the whole thing. I could relate to him, and tell him about the songs I had ideas for and everything and stuff. And then he would bring it back or whatever, and we'd get together and put it down." Once the taskmaster hell bent on rehearsing, Lee had flipped a full 180. Perfection was no longer an aspiration, but the enemy of inspiration.

"I seen where practicing and practicing got me," says Lee. "A lot of musicians you get to playing and they gotta stop, they have to analyze the music. But while you analyzing you losing a lot of the greatness of what you creating. Stop analyzing what you play, just play! And it'll all take shape."

=

"I hope you understood the beginning of the record because this was invented from a dream I had today… (You tell me, I'll tell you, we'll figure it out together)" – Lee Tracy and Isaac Manning, "Hope You Understand"

Lee lets loose a maniacal cackle when he acknowledges that the material that he and Isaac recorded was by anyone's estimation pretty out there. It's the same laugh that commences "Hope You Understand" – a chaotic transmission that encapsulates the duality at the heart of their music: a stated desire to reach people and a compulsion to go as leftfield as they saw fit.

"We just did it," says Lee. "We cut the music on and cut loose. I don't sit around and write. I do it by listening, get a feeling, play the music, and the lyrics and stuff just come out of me."

The approach proved adaptable to interpreting other artists' material. While recording a cover of Whitney Houston's pop ballad "Saving All My Love For You," Lee played Whitney's version in his headphones as he laid down his own vocals – partially following the lyrics, partially using them as a departure point. The end result is barely recognizable compared with the original, Lee and Isaac having switched up the time signature and reinvented the melody along the way towards morphing a slick mainstream radio standard into something that sounds solely their own.

"I really used that song to get me started," says Lee. "Then I said, well I need something else, something is missing. Something just came over me. That's when I came up with 'Is It What You Want.'"

The song would become the centerpiece of Lee and Isaac's repertoire. Pushed along by a percolating metronomic Rhythm King style beat somewhere between a military march and a samba, "Is It What You Want" finds Lee pleading the sincerity of his commitment to a potential love interest embellished by vocal tics and hiccups subtlely reminiscent of his childhood hero MJ. Absent chord changes, only synth riffs gliding in and out like apparitions, the song achieves a lingering lo-fi power that leaves you feeling like it's still playing, somewhere, even after the fade out.

"I don't know, it's like a real spiritual song," Lee reflects. "But it's not just spiritual. To me the more I listen to it it's like about everything that you do in your everyday life, period. Is it what you want? Do you want a car or you don't want a car? Do you want Jesus or do you want the Devil? It's basically asking you the question. Can't nobody answer the question but you yourself."

In 1989 Lee won a lawsuit stemming from injuries sustained from a fight he'd gotten into. He took part of the settlement money and with Isaac pressed up "Saving All My Love For You" b/w "Is It What You Want" as a 45 single. Isaac christened the label One Chance Records. "Because that's all we wanted," he says with a laugh, "one chance."

Isaac sent the record out to radio stations and major labels, hoping for it to make enough noise to get picked up nationally. But the response he and Lee were hoping for never materialized. According to Isaac the closest the single got to getting played on the radio is when a disk jock from a local station made a highly unusual announcement on air: "The dude said on the radio, 107.5 – 'We are not gonna play 'Is It What You Want.' We cracked up! Wow, that's deep.

"It was a whole racist thing that was going on," he reflects. "So we just looked over and kept on going. That was it. That was about the way it goes… If you were Black and you were living in Nashville and stuff, that's the way you got treated." Isaac already knew as much from all the times he'd brought he and Lee's tapes (even their cache of country music tunes) over to Music Row to try to drum up interest to no avail.

"Isaac, he really worked his ass off," says Lee. "He probably been to every record place down on Music Row." Nashville's famed recording and music business corridor wasn't but a few blocks from where Lee grew up. Close enough, he remembers, for him to ride his bike along its back alleys and stumble upon the occasional random treasure, like a discarded box of harmonicas. Getting in through the front door, however, still felt a world away.

"I just don't think at the time our music fell into a category for them," he concedes. "It was before its time."

=

Lee stopped making music some time in the latter part of the '90s, around the time his mom passed away and life became increasingly tough to manage. "When my mother died I had a nervous breakdown," he says, "So I shut down for a long time. I was in such a sadness frame of mind. That's why nobody seen me. I had just disappeared off the map." He fell out of touch with Isaac, and in an indication of just how bad things had gotten for him, lost track of all the recordings they'd made together. Music became a distant memory.

Fortunately, Isaac kept the faith. In a self-published collection of his poetry – paeans to some of his favorite entertainment and public figures entitled Friends and Dick Clark – he'd written that he believed "music has a life of its own." But his prescience and presence of mind were truly manifested in the fact that he kept an archive of he and Lee's work. As perfectly imperfect as "Is It What You Want" now sounds in a post-Personal Space world, Lee and Isaac's lone official release was in fact just a taste. The bulk of the Is It What You Want album is culled from the pair's essentially unheard home recordings – complete songs, half-realized experiments, Isaac's blue monologues and pronouncements et al – compiled, mixed and programmed in the loose and impulsive creative spirit of their regular get-togethers from decades ago. The rest of us, it seems, may have finally caught up to them.

On the prospect of at long last reaching a wider audience, Isaac says simply, "I been trying for a long time, it feels good." Ever the survivor, he adds, "The only way I know how to make it to the top is to keep climbing. If one leg break on the ladder, hey, you gotta fix it and keep on going… That's where I be at. I'll kill death to make it out there."

For Lee it all feels akin to a personal resurrection: "It's like I was in a tomb and the tomb was opened and I'm back… Man, it feels so great. I feel like I'm gonna jump out of my skin." Success at this stage of his life, he realizes, probably means something different than what it did back when he was singing and dancing in Isaac's front yard. "What I really mean by 'making it,'" he explains isn't just the music being heard but, "the story being told."

Occasionally Lee will pull up "Is It What You Want" on YouTube on his phone, put on his headphones, and listen. He remembers the first time he heard his recorded voice. How surreal it was, how he thought to himself, "Is that really me?" What would he say to that younger version of himself now?

"I would probably tell myself, hang in there, don't give up. Keep striving for the goal. And everything will work out."

Despite what's printed on the record label, sometimes you do get more than one chance.

Limited amount of part 2 of the Herdersmat series available now. This vinyl was previously available only by purchasing the full MORDBOX001. Generic black sleeve.

The Decades Collected compilations are part of the new Collected compilation series, which is a collaboration between Universal Music and Music On Vinyl. The compilations bring together the biggest names of each decade, combined with forgotten hits and less discovered gems, giving the listener an experience of listening to their favorite tunes while uncovering new musical grounds at the same time.

Various Artists - Zeroes Collected features Nelly Furtado “I’m Like A Bird”, The Script “Breakeven”, The Black Eyed Peas “I Gotta Feeling”, Alphabeat “Fascination”, T.A.T.U. “All The Things She Said” and Mika “Grace Kelly” amongst others.

Stars return with the announce of their new album From Capelton Hill
(May 27, 2022 on Last Gang/MNRK)
Their first instalment is a two-song pack titled Pretenders/Snowy Owl, with focus
single “Pretenders” showcasing their signature hook- heavy, dance- infused
anthems that the band has been known for over 20+ years. Over 7mil + global
streams on their last record + key support from Pitchfork, Mojo, NPR Music, and
New York Times. Stars will tour EU/UK in early 2023.
• Seminal indie act returns with their 9th studio record. • From Capelton Hill
releasing May 27, 2022 Last Gang/MNRK (WW). • Album announce pickup from
Pitchfork, Stereogum, Under The Radar, Brooklyn Vegan, Exclaim!, etc • Recently
completed sessions for Comedy Bang Bang, WNYC, INDIE88 + Montreal Gazette.
• Vinyl exclusive locked in with Magnolia Record Club (100K+ subscribers) + Last
Gang, Band D2C • Over 650+ vinyl pre-orders From Capelton Hill via D2C • US
Team = Chromatic PR / Pirate Pirate Radio. • CA Team = Freshly Pressed PR /
Canvas Media Radio. • UK Team = Rachel Silver / Silver PR • GSA Team = Jorg
Timp / Starkult PR & Radio • Key support on last record from Pitchfork, NPR
Music, New York Times, Magnet, etc. • EU/UK tour dates will take place in Q1,
2022

Technoindigenous Studies is the newest outlet of producer/composer Gabriel Reyes-Whittaker, aka Gifted & Blessed, serving as a platform for his many alter egos and side projects. As the name implies, Technoindigenous Studies is the union of modern musical technology with the ways and intentions of the ancestors.

The first release on the label is from one of Gabriel's lesser known monikers, The Reflektor. We know The Reflektor as half of the west coast electro funk duo POLY, and since then he released an EP with Kyle Hall's Wild Oats label titled Las Ruinas Mayas, which paid homage to the ancient Mayans. This new EP, simply titled Taíno, is a tribute to his own indigenous Caribbean ancestors. Each of the 4 track titles is taken from the Taíno language. Call it techno, electro, music to move to, whatever you wish. There's room for your own personal interpretation. That's what makes the Gifted & Blessed sound what it is.

"Combining steppy dance music, lush detail and a diaristic tone, Jack Chrysalis’ debut album dials between music that is destined to catch the ear of the club-goer and the heart of the dreamer, his signature propulsive mutations of organic techno and UK garage sounding strongly in tracks like Another Year and Coldharbour.

Between these, Chrysalis threads in more introspective moments. Tracks formed by running a hand along piano keys in improvisation, or made in recollection of Koji Kondo’s clear bright musical palette for Zelda. They lend a sense of atmosphere and a deeper running mood to the album’s overworld, heightening endorphin hits from the garage swing and affording a little more bittersweetness to its textures and secrets.

Whether in rush or retreat, each track on this album emerges with its own emotional resonance. There’s a sense of seasons turning, or a twilight quality that’s hard to fully pin down. “Owl music” became shorthand for Jack’s tunes, a way for Mana to capture a prescient, nocturnal flight within their environment."

Jon Porras draws a staggering array of atmospheres out of even the simplest instrumentation. Across his work as one-half of psych-drone duo Barn Owl and his solo releases, Porras welds monoliths and ether into propulsive music that is deeply felt. Arroyo, named for the Spanish word for "stream" in a nod to Porras' heritage as a first generation Colombian?Japanese American, drifts gently from one tributary to the next in unhurried contemplation and euphoria. The portentous weight and abrasive textures of Porras' previous work give way to the trickle of richly detailed acoustic instruments slipping in and out of the fold. On Arroyo, Jon Porras evokes a distinct sense of resplendent anticipation and calm with a fathomless flow and softly gorgeous colors. For Porras, Arroyo became a rumination on simplicity and simple truths, a work of complete immersion and continuous motion where separate elements coalesce into an ever-changing whole. Porras spent the year leading up to 2020 living nomadically across Europe where he was able to soak in a deep appreciation for the effortless beauty of overgrown gardens, the basic principles of classical architecture and a more transient sensibility. The album was written and recorded in a time of even more change for Porras: after the birth of his daughter. Like a stream's steady glide across bedrock that waxes and wanes with each gradual turn, the music of Arroyo exhibits a transportive stillness. The compositions take on a light, gaseous buoyancy as discreet drones swell with measured fluctuations and ripples of piano rest atop the surface. Arroyo borrows harmonic concepts from modal jazz to create a unique sense of ease and endlessness. Each of the four pieces on the album centers around a single suspended chord, a chord most commonly associated with devotional music which embodies a space between harmonic tension and resolution. Porras embellishes that liminality with arrangements that feel less like distinguishable layers of instruments and more like one undulating nebula of sound. In the past decade of Porras' solo work, his music has grown increasingly engaged with elaborate synth textures and detailed processing. With Arroyo, Porras consciously takes a step back from those more intricate compositions and focuses on more organic, unadorned textures and places each sound with the same precision. Stark piano and guitar patiently hover over modest currents of Hammond organ and Yamaha DX7 with the sustain of each chord and phrase acting as a natural guide to the album's subtle rhythm. The four pieces that comprise Arroyo each encompass their own idyllic channel, slowly weaving their way in and out of the album's elegant stir. Porras' reflections on simplified elements take shape in gorgeous arrangements that impart clarity amidst a tranquil mist. Arroyo is an album that unearths splendor in a unified feeling of space, serenity in perpetual renewal

Jon Porras draws a staggering array of atmospheres out of even the simplest instrumentation. Across his work as one-half of psych-drone duo Barn Owl and his solo releases, Porras welds monoliths and ether into propulsive music that is deeply felt. Arroyo, named for the Spanish word for "stream" in a nod to Porras' heritage as a first generation ColombianJapanese American, drifts gently from one tributary to the next in unhurried contemplation and euphoria. The portentous weight and abrasive textures of Porras' previous work give way to the trickle of richly detailed acoustic instruments slipping in and out of the fold. On Arroyo, Jon Porras evokes a distinct sense of resplendent anticipation and calm with a fathomless flow and softly gorgeous colors. For Porras, Arroyo became a rumination on simplicity and simple truths, a work of complete immersion and continuous motion where separate elements coalesce into an ever-changing whole. Porras spent the year leading up to 2020 living nomadically across Europe where he was able to soak in a deep appreciation for the effortless beauty of overgrown gardens, the basic principles of classical architecture and a more transient sensibility. The album was written and recorded in a time of even more change for Porras: after the birth of his daughter. Like a stream's steady glide across bedrock that waxes and wanes with each gradual turn, the music of Arroyo exhibits a transportive stillness. The compositions take on a light, gaseous buoyancy as discreet drones swell with measured fluctuations and ripples of piano rest atop the surface.

Like a book club - only with albums.A simple, but beautiful concept

MJ McArthy (Zoey Van Goey) asked a small group of his pals to gather at The Laurieston – that mystical voodoo Glasgow boozer…that adored bar that defies all reason and logic – and they would talk about a record, track by track, and see what happens.They didn't know each other. There were theatre people:, Playwrite Douglas Maxwell, Isobel McArthur (actress and writer, the genius behind smash hit Pride and Prejudice Sort Of) and Cathy Forde (acclaimed YA novelist and playwright) and Rhona NicDhughaill who works for Gaelic arts company Theatre Gu Leor, as well as being an old band buddy of MJ's from their student days. Peter Geoghegan, award- winning firebrand political journalist and writer of the wonderful Democracy For Sale was there. And lastly - and slightly freaking them out on that very first night - were two actual Delgados: Emma Pollock and Paul
Savage.

And then…MJ had songs. MJ always has songs. And he started to wonder if this particular group of humans could, as well as talk about an album, make an album? For the musicians I don't suppose that was a particularly weird notion, but for the rest of the band it was quite a leap. However, MJ was adamant…let Album



Club become ALBUM CLUB. The Band!

This is a very significant 30th Anniversary issue of an iconic album from 1991. The Future Sound Of London broke boundaries with "Papua New Guinea", included here, influencing a whole new era of techno, ambient and electronic music. For the first time this album has been divided into four sides to comprise a double LP for higher end audio sound. There are only 1500 copies and each is individually numbered. It comes in a gatefold sleeve and includes new artwork exclusive to this limited edition.

Both the original single and album were a fixture on the end of year charts of many publications including Melody Maker, NME and Mixmag, whilst also achieving Best Techno Single at the Mixmag Awards in 1992.

This album doesn't blurt it out: There is no loud "Ta-Dah!", no exclamation mark. "The ghost that carried us away" flatters in a rather unobtrusive way. However, it has encircled you after the third song at the latest. Fragile hymns of nonchalant casualness, created by the 24-year-old Sindri Már Sigfússon. Guitars, piano, his almost bashful and yet so present voice. "Nature, mortality, love", these are the topics of his debut album. Even the one who listens only briefly, is able to make them out within the sounds. "Do you remember how the things look when you were young."

Reykjavik again. Iceland, the musical heartland. On top of that, there is a violinist with her voice in the clouds: Gudbjörg Hlin Gudmundsdóttir (violine, vocals, harmonica). There further are musicians Sindri shared his hometown and his passion: Orn (guitar, lapsteel) who forms together with Sindri and Gudbjörg the inner triangle of Seabear. Or Eiki, Orvar, Gudni and Dóri. One plays the flugelhorn, the slide-guitar or upright-bass. One belong to the live line-up of Sigur Rós (Eiki). Another is part of the sensational múm (Orvar). Some are stage members of Benni Hemm Hemm's Band - the other Icelandic artist on morr music. Sindri Már Sigfusson has invited them into his small studio, placed them in front of the only microphone, let them think about his musical thoughts. He likes the notion and the feeling of LoFi, Sindri says. Only for the recording of the drums three microphones were used. The result is reminiscent of the reduced stereo recordings of the 1960ies.

Libraries is the most direct promise that pop music is able to make. Tiny and gigantic, unobtrusive and exciting at the same time. A song like a blink into the most beautiful sunrise. A tumbling piano, swinging drums. Melodies, melancholy: "My little bird flew away from me". Or "hands remember", the singing being close to one's ear. "The voice of an old friend", a murmur, two violins. There is later "summer bird diamond", birds twitter to the accords of an old banjo, a glockenspiel. It is almost a radio play, chamber folk. And "seashell" at last, a pocket symphony, arranged around jumping drums. Sufjan Stevens would have done it in a very similar way.

Chris Imler likes to play drums standing up. He‘s the dandy with the killer offbeat, or, as one major German newspaper once put it, the "Grand Seigneur of the Berlin Underground". He has been making his mark on countless Berlin musical affairs since long before the fall of the Wall, with The Golden Showers, Peaches, Oum Shatt, Driver &Driver, Die Türen, Jens Friebe, to name but a few. He has also been perfoming across Europe as a solo artist for the past decade.

In "Operation Schönheit" (German for "Operation Beauty"), he has recorded his most, well, beautiful album to date. But Benedikt Frey's warm production subverts its own beauty with a multitude of clanking and ingling synth sounds, making the work very much about the cosmetic surgery it performs on itself. It's all in the tradition of the more experimental and electronic side of post-punk in which Imler and his unique groove are rooted. It doesn't take insider knowledge of Berlin's post-punk underground to realise that that Imler groove consists of rhythm that sings, vocals that dance and a look that fits, as illustrated by "Disappoint Me", his latest video: https://youtu.be/YeVJ75ljjB8

Elsewhere - such as in "Movies" - the rhythm sings, less electronically reduced, into the acoustics of an old, high-ceilinged Berlin apartment; metal clatters, a zither trembles and Imler plays with the metronome. Sometimes he moves ahead of time, sometimes trails behind it. He always manages to be in his very own groove, which carries everything along. And this is precisely the essence of the Imler rhythm, which lends itself to being applied to the very rhythm of life: Stretch and compress your time and loop it according to your own groove! Optimise nothing but feel everything! And dance to it! Even when contemplating everyday information overload, as Imler's high-speed mumbling suggests in the hectic yet smooth opening track "Temperature".

But being the ultimate night owl he is, Imler manages to make even the odd bout of paranoia seem like a good thing: like some kind of krauty, groovy B-horror-soundtrack-inflected high-pressure environment, "Whip Me" is a cross between Conrad Schnitzler and Bauhaus. In the title track, whose lyrics were written together with Jens Friebe, he intones: "You want to be something greater / You break your leg / When it heals again / You break it again" and sounds like the most gleeful fatalist you can imagine. Because in his city, one can still lose oneself better than anywhere else - a night easily becomes a whole universe that can be traversed, marvelled at and played with, and one might find one's old self again only when hearing "church bells" and "small birds singing". At least that's how Imler illustrates it in "Emptiness full of stars", and it seems likely that those "stars" are the human companions of the Berlin night in question.

And so once again Imler becomes Berlin's most important cultural ambassador: that scene of the eternally, and somehow successfully, failing creatures of the night, once the envy of the international postmodern bohème, has, despite many claims to the contrary, not been completely "optimised away", and its attitude to life is perfectly summed up in Imler's groove. And, of course, his look. "Schau Hin" (German for "Look!"), he sings in the track of the same name, masterfully dubbed out with the help of Melbourne's Leo James.

Quite right! Look - and listen.

Yours, Johannes von Weizsäcker (The Chap)

In September 2021, VOLA performed an intimate show in a stunning live setting

'Live From The Pool' took place at the swimming pool of the abandoned Auderød military camp in North Zealand near Copenhagen, Denmark. Designed by the world-famous architect Henning Larsen this defunct building has become part of the Auderød nature park. A place where nature encounters the mysteries of a
once existing military base, ready to be explored.

Creating a unique experience, the bands' genre-melding music collaborates with visionary Danish audio-visual artist collective Vertigo, where light, nature, music, and concrete meet.

Since their debut 45 back in 2019, Night Owls have consistently taken the bar up a notch re-imagining classic funk & soul with a Jamaican twist. With eight sold out 45’s in a span of three years and regular airplay on BBC6, KCRW and more, we’re happy to announce this much anticipated LP “Versions” comprising all their groove filled singles to date. This all-star production team comprised of Dan Ubick (The Lions, Connie Price and the Keystones, De La Soul) on Guitar & Percussion, Blake Colie (Arise Roots,The Lions, Hollie Cook) on Drum Kit, Dave Wilder (The Lions, Ziggy Marley, Macy Gray) on Bass, and Roger Rivas (The Aggrolites, Jason Mraz, LBDA) on Organ & Piano, team up with many of today’s top soul singers to bring their signature take on beloved chart topping hits and deep cuts. Featuring vocalists Afrodyete (Breakestra),Terin Ector (Orgone), Durand Jones (The Indications), Malik “The Freq” Moore (The Lions),Alex Désert (Hepcat,The Lions), Jesse Wagner (The Aggro- lites), Jamie Allensworth (Jungle Fire), Sy Smith (Macy Gray, Sheila E.), Chris Dowd (Fishbone), John Arthur Bigham (Fishbone, Soul of John Black), Kevin Sandbloom, Kendra Morris and Destani Wolf (Matisyahu,The Pharcyde), each track was carefully selected by producer Dan Ubick to match the featured vocalists strength resulting in a heavy soul and dub infused LP that surely won’t want to leave your turntable!

High Focus ​Records linchpin ​Fliptrix announces his 8th solo album ​‘Light Work’. The 16-track project is a complete representation of ​Fliptrix as both an artist as well as reflecting the person behind the artistry. The album tackles deep rooted issues within society, the current state of the world as well as portraying an overarching message of peace, openness and optimism.

“Light Work is the culmination of years of experience, emotion, research and love. Crafted to heal, fulfil my desire to create and further raise vibrations.”

The London born, Brighton based lyricist’ creative CV has become one of legends. His long-standing trade as a solo artist is paired with him being one-quarter of the acclaimed collective ​The Four Owls (Big Owl)​, adding in Founder and Director of ​High Focus Records and not to forget becoming a first-time dad earlier this year. Operating at this level has been achieved by years of self-development and his mission is to pay it all forward.

Both Fliptrix and High Focus Records have been irreplaceable cogs in the UK HipHop machine for well over a decade. He and the label have been there for the hard times and the glory days but have never sought out fame or verification. Albums such as ​‘The Road To The Interdimensional Piff Highway’ and ​‘Patterns Of Escapism’ ​were pioneering amongst peers and resulted in multiple global tours and a dedicated fanbase across the world.

Kicking off the album is the title track ​‘Light Work’ which starts with faded, eerie laughter whilst Fliptrix unleashes a barrage of flows ending with “DMT be elevating my consciousness​”​. An introspective cut,

‘Light Work’ expresses his undeniable passion for his craft whilst tackling personal demons and overcoming them through altered states of consciousness. ‘​Multicolour’ paints a raw psychedelic picture and encourages us to think outside the box and not take everything for face value. His vivid storytelling continues throughout with feelings of being burnt out expressed in ‘​Broken Glass​’ whilst ​‘Powerizm’ ​switches up the tempo and he conveys his daily grind whilst paying homage to his fallen friend and legendary London graffiti artist ‘POW’ as well as his recently born first child. Tracks ‘​Problem, Reaction, Solution & ​The Realisation Part 2​, tackle the world's current situation head-on with a no holds barred viewpoint. Coming full circle, ​Fliptrix closes the project with ‘​Vibes’​ which is full of positivity and hope.

No stranger to talking openly about his mind-altering experiences, spirituality, quest for knowledge and dedication to the exploration of consciousness, Fliptrix’s raw flow and intricate lyricism perfectly portray the albums hard hitting narratives and set him apart from the rest of the scene. Self-reflection, personal improvement, determination and revolution are at the core of ​‘Light Work’ and they come together harmoniously under one roof.

Born in 1886 in Columbus (Georgia), Ma Rainey is considered by most the mother of the Blues. She did a lot to popularize this style among younger generations and will be a direct influence for countless artists. Author of the first hits of the genre (See See Rider Blues and Chain Gang Blues in the 1920s), she will take a young girl by the name of Bessie Smith under her wing and will write songs with Louis Armstrong or Coleman Hawkins.

The Decades Collected compilations are part of the new Collected compilation series, which is a collaboration between Universal Music and Music On Vinyl. The compilations bring together the biggest names of each decade, combined with forgotten hits and less discovered gems, giving the listener an experience of listening to their favorite tunes while uncovering new musical grounds at the same time.

Various Artists - Zeroes Collected features Nelly Furtado “I’m Like A Bird”, The Script “Breakeven”, The Black Eyed Peas “I Gotta Feeling”, Alphabeat “Fascination”, T.A.T.U. “All The Things She Said” and Mika “Grace Kelly” amongst others.

Originally released in 2010, Mirage is the fourth studio album by renowned Dutch trance DJ and producer Armin van Buuren. The album was preceded by the single “Full Focus”, which peaked at #24 on the Dutch Single Charts. Mirage features many great collaborations with furthermore Sophie Ellis-Bextor on “Not Giving Up On Love”, Christian Burns on “This Light Between Us”, Nadia Ali on “Feels So Good”, BT on “These Silent Hearts”, Adam Young (Owl City) on “Youtopia”, and Ferry Corsten on “Minack”.

The album Mirage debuted at #3 on the Dutch Album Top 100, as well as reaching the top 5 of the US Top Dance/Electronic Albums and debuting at #148 on the Billboard 200. The album was certified gold in several countries.

Warm presents a brand new compilation called 'Home'; a soundtrack for when we pause, take a breath, and use our senses to explore the magic of the world on our doorsteps. Morning to evening, dawn to dusk, our lives continue moving but sometimes the need to step back and reset is essential to create a balance in our lives. As we open our eyes and ears to our surroundings, our senses become stimulated by small details. Whether it be the sound of the sea lapping on the sand, the wind blowing through the canopy of trees or a robin heralding a new day; nothing is the same but all are unique.

'Home' has been pieced together over the last year by Warm’s Ali Tillett. With the majority of Warm - booking agents for Colleen ‘Cosmo’ Murphy, Gerd Janson, Horse Meat Disco, Hot Chip DJs, Lou Hayter, Luke Una - on pause, Ali took the chance to immerse himself in bringing together his passion for music, nature and art.

The 14 tracks, the majority exclusive and specially made for the compilation, includes contributions by Âme, Bobby Lee & Mia Doi Todd, Coyote, Crack’d Man (aka Crooked Man who produced Roisin Murphy's last album), Fug (with their first material for over ten years), Kirk Degiorgio presents As One, Turtle, and Ewan Pearson's World of Apples project (with their first material for nearly 20 years!). The tracks align with specific habitats in the local Dorset area, where Ali is situated, such as Harbour/Estuary, Heathland/Moorland, Woodland/Forest, and Beach/Cliffs.

To immerse the listener even further into the soundscape, critically acclaimed sound and field recording artist Gary Moore, of Springwatch/Autumnwatch fame, has been involved to help bring nature even further to the ears. Intertwined between the music are field recordings specific to area and habitat; whether it be the sound of a ship's horn in Poole harbour, avocets on the scrape, the tawny owl in the woodland or Puffins on the ledges of cliffs.

Gareth Fuller, a fabulous artist who previously lived in Dorset, has kindly allowed one of his artworks to become the centrepiece for the compilation. Titled 'Purbeck', it's a truly wonderful piece of art that encapsulates everything about the area and enables an added dimension to the immersive experience for the listener.

Bumps Per Minute is a full-throttle reinvention of the traditional fairground dodgems, from Mercury Award-shortlisted composer, producer and musician Anna Meredith. The music is part of the DODGE installation, which can be experienced until 22nd August at Somerset House.

For Bumps Per Minute, Meredith has collaborated with BAFTA-winning sound artist Nick Ryan to design a bespoke tracking technology so that every thump, bump and swerve of the 18 dodgems around the track can trigger a separate composition. This results in a kind of ultimate shuffle where high octane music and ideas compete for airtime and each performance is unique. The installation will occur approximately every hour at DODGE through the day/evening.

The idea for Bumps Per Minute came about when the composer was thinking about what might be a more pandemic friendly replacement for the ice rink at Somerset House where she has her studio. The idea grew from there and now this summer DODGE is taking over the main courtyard at Somerset House, featuring a full smorgasbord of Yinka Ilori designs, DJs, food, drink and of course, dodgem rides.

Today, Meredith announces that she will be releasing a special extended cut of her material via Moshi Moshi out on the 15th July 2021. Bumps Per Minute: 18 Studies for Dodgems will feature full-length individual musical identities of all 18 dodgems – each one a bold and distinct musical track in its own right as well an intro and outro track (voiced by comedian Rob Broderick).

The key to both the dodgems themselves and the release is a user ‘driven’ triggering and shuffling of the material. Meredith encourages the listener to ‘take the driving seat’ and jump from one track to another, mirroring the real dodgem ride, shuffling and curating their own listening experience via the virtual interactive dodgems page or their preferred listening platform.

Bumps Per Minute: 18 Studies for Dodgems explodes out of the starting gate with Meredith’s uncategorisable sound and signature energy, combining fairground wildness with a healthy dose of the nostalgic electronics of old school gaming.

A true psychedelic masterpiece!
Black vinyl LP in black and white jacket with miniature two color booklet. Limited second pressing.
Blind Owl Wilson was a truly great guitarist and vocalist whose deep well of psychedelic blues songs were buried amongst the catalog of major label rockin’ blues band Canned Heat. Blind Owl served as Canned Heat’s guitarist and would chip in a song here and there as a front man. A couple of those songs became huge hits in the 60’s – “Going Up The Country” and “On The Road Again”.
Blind Owl’s songs for Canned Heat stood in stark contrast to the bands blustery blues rock – his was a gentle and nuanced voice and the themes of his song were all about personal heartbreak, grasp- ing for cosmic understanding, and ecological justice.
Here we have an LP of Blind Owl’s songs from Canned Heat’s records – left to sit alone and take you somewhere unexpected. Blind Owl’s personal vision quest can be heard throughout these songs. “Poor Moon’ tells the tale of Alan’s heartbreak as he watches the moon being misguidedly bombed by man, ‘My time ain’t long’ confronts death, “Parthenogen in 3 Blind Owls’ and ‘Parthenogen childs end’ take you to the psychedelic limits, and oh yes, we have the hit tunes on here too. Co-release with Sutro Park records.

As we continue on our journey here at Futurepast, we are pleased to welcome a trio that, for many years, we felt shared our vision, Frak! From Sweden, Frak have been founding an original hardware-based sound since the 80's, first via their own label Borft before collaborating with other labels over three whole decades.

On their "Formless Obstruction" EP, Frak have provided a window into the sinister twists and turns of their work. On the A-side, you see creeping Detroit stylings of "Scientific Bella" set against "Wrong Owl" with it's EBM underpinnings and industrial inflections.

On the flip, "Concentrated Feed" bubbles next to the razor sharp "Capacity Faun", both are filled with characteristic machine quirks and experimentalism.

Two storming Northern Soul classics back-to-back for the first time. Recorded in the glory years of soul music 1966/67 and perfectly paced for Seventies UK dancefloor action.
RON HOLDEN was born to a prominent black Seattle family in 1939 and was a high school football star. His singing talents were first noticed by police officer Larry Nelson after Holden found himslef in the cells after a night on the booze. Officer Nelson went on to form the ‘Nite Owl’ label and recorded Ron Holden on the #7 Billboard hit “Love You So”. Holden recorded “I’ll Forgive And Forget” for ‘Challenge’ in ’67, produced by label-mate Jerry Fuller.
JERRY FULLER was born into a country music family in Fort Worth, Texas in 1938. He signed to Gene Autry’s ‘Challenge’ label in 1959 and hit with “Tennesssee Waltz” ahead of penning the six-million seller for “Travelin’ Man” for Ricky Nelson (although it was intended for Sam Cooke). The self-penned “Double Life” was released in ‘66 and later achieved iconic status in the UK.

New album by french producer Joakim on his label Tigersushi. Through 16 tracks, he explores a world of sounds that blur the line between the natural and the artificial, a psychedelic journey on a modern Noah's Ark, back to his roots in IDM, Classical music, avant-garde Pop and Ambient.

`Barn Breaks vol III', presented by Owlvaro & Hugu, is the latest installment of oddball samples and loops from your favorite globe-trotting Texan trio, and is perfect for ant portablist scratch jam or 7" DJ set... The latest in the series, this "skipless" 7" contains scratch samples from "Mordechai" - band hits, isolated basslines & vocals, guitar notes, keyboard stabs and drum loops - as well as custom "ahhhh" & "fressshh" sounds. Do you know? Here we go!

After the exploration of snowy mountains of Alpestres, released on Hands in the Dark in 2018, French composer Matthias Puech ventures into new territories, sketching a cartography of the invisible where the journey, in chiaroscuro, is announced as a rite of passage. A Geography of Absence, as introspective as unpredictable, immerses the listener into a unique sensory whirlwind where organic matter becomes almost palpable. A researcher in theoretical computer science and an engineer at GRM, Matthias Puech constructs a dialog between synthetic music and field recording, capturing sounds that surround him and creating his own sonic language with the help of synthesizers he designs and develops; notably the Oscillator Ensemble and the Tapographic Delay, made by the American company 4ms.

Composed during a moment marked by ordeal and mourning, A Geography of Absence retraces an inner journey where the physicality of sound leads the listener into an initiatory tunnel filled with apparitions, ghosts, visions. With sound oscillations as a navigational map, we progress, step by step, through the meanders of an unknown world, dazzled by the prospect of a new synthetic horizon, an electronic biotope teeming with life and incarnations. Playing with time, space and matter in an approach similar to that of musique concrète, Matthias Puech combines ambient and noise, floating sounds and electroacoustic experimentations, thus shaking up our listening perspective, which finds itself walking through a parallel universe, strata after strata, sequence after sequence.

The trip begins with “Hollow”, as if on board a night train travelling at full speed through ghost towns. Or is it a spaceship? Removed from their original habitat, sounds – picked up during walks or moduled by synths – are free to be interpreted differently by everyone, according to the memories that shape us. Granular and metallic, this first piece takes us to an elsewhere in orbit. "Work Song" is built around the pulsation of the void, of space, where strange creatures and liquid emanations abound. We become fetus, cocoon coiled in the placenta, heart beating to the rhythm of the gooey choreography of the human body. "Chrysalis" awakens the racket that lies dormant in us, when the skin changes, when the transition takes place. One seems to recognize certain sounds stemming from nature but they could also be mirages, imitating reality to render the barely perceptible engulfing. “Tunnel Vision” brings out a herd of haunted bells, slowly swelling in a pastoral maelstrom, ending in a deafening buzz. Further on, the chirping of an animatronic bird mixes with the hooting of an owl: "A Faint Beacon" invokes a nocturnal vigil that mixes the crackling of a fire and icy gusts of wind blowing everything away. Like an epic, sucking the listener into the breach of a black hole in the center of the Milky Way, it's up to "Homeostasis" to conclude in the high spheres and contemplative vapors, where the balance of dawn announces a rebirth.

A Geography of Absence is a meticulous and sensitive piece that constructs a delicate symphony of extremes, between introspection and desire for the unknown. Accompanied by the ink work of the artist Léa Neuville, whose folds of prints sketch this imaginary atlas, Matthias Puech becomes a narrator of mental adventures. And succeeds once again in transcending reality to dig a path to the unspeakable.

RED FANG return with their highly anticipated new album, Arrows! Their first album in five years, everyone's favorite beer-crushing, zombie-killing, air-guitar-contest-judging metal heroes are back in action, doing what they do best- AND MORE. “This record feels more like Murder The Mountains to me than any record we’ve done before or since,” bassist/vocalist Aaron Beam ventures. “It doesn’t sound like that record, but Murder the Mountains was us doing whatever the fuck we wanted, and that’s what this is, too.” Arrows was recorded at Halfling Studios in the band’s hometown of Portland, OR, with longtime collaborator Chris Funk, producer of Murder The Mountains and 2013’s Whales and Leeches. “Chris is a major influencer as far as the weird ambient stuff in between the songs and the creepy incidental noises within the songs,“ guitarist Bryan Giles points out. “I think he definitely creates an added layer of atmosphere that we wouldn’t have otherwise.” Arrows is also a proper title track, which is new territory for the band. “This is the first time we’ve named an album after a song that’s actually on the album,” Beam explains. “We have other albums that are named after songs of ours that are not on those albums. So this time we’re really fucking with you because we didn’t fuck with you.” Similarly, fans might not believe what the song “Arrows” is partially about. “If you’re confused by some of the lyrics to the song, that makes sense,” Beam explains. “But it makes reference to meditation. I started meditating six years ago, but I can only do it when I’m not feeling too anxious. So, when I don’t need it, that’s when I can do it.” Elsewhere, “Fonzi Scheme” was named after legendary Happy Days cool guy Arthur Fonzarelli—if only because it’s in the key of his famous catchphrase, “Aaay.” Producer Chris Funk came up with the idea of bringing in string players from the Portland Cello Project to class up the track. Meanwhile, the opening riff of closer “Funeral Coach” was written 11 years ago. But it took until recently for the song to blossom into its full double-entendre glory. “I was driving around and I saw a hearse that said ‘funeral coach services’ on the back,” Beam explains. “So the first thing that popped into my head was a dude with a headset and a clipboard going, ‘Alright, dudes—more tears! Five minutes in is when the tears are critical, or no one’s gonna believe that anyone cares that this person died.’” In a nod to tradition, Arrows will be available in formats that include all the drums, bass, guitars and vocals. But it could’ve gone another way. “Our original idea was to release the album with no vocals or guitar solos,” Beam explains. “If you want the guitar solos, it’s an extra five bucks. If you want the vocals, it’s an extra ten bucks. So basically people should feel lucky that we didn’t do that. You get to buy the whole thing altogether.” RED FANG think of it as a generous display of gratitude toward their fans. “Yeah,” says Sherman, “Thank you for buying our album, you lucky bastards.”

At first glance, Sarah Louise might seem an unlikely candidate
to credit technology as inspiration for her new album, Earth Bow.
After all, she has lived in rural Appalachia for the last decade,
foraging numerous species of wild mushroom, concocting
medicine from plants she gathers, and performing what she
terms “Earth Practices” to deepen her relationship with the
natural world. But it is precisely her ability to find connections
between false binaries that makes this album so novel and richly
immersive.
Louise conceived Earth Bow as an interconnected ecosystem,
meant to evolve, interact and grow. Known for her inventive
guitar playing, vocal harmonies and electronic experiments,
it was her use of the SP-404SX sampler that became a primary
inspiration for the album’s woven nature. “Improvising with the
404 during live shows allows me to collaborate with the music
as a living system, almost the way generative music works,” she
says. “I kept finding more and more samples that worked together
and realized I wanted to connect the entire record—and
that there were many ways it could be connected.”
Through this process, what began as eight core songs
blossomed into two sweeping suites. Samples—denizens of
her electronic forest—move around the record with changing
context like words in a sestina or phrases in the I Ching,
revealing new connections with each listen. Mesmeric sounds
abound on Earth Bow, from analog synth tones, to digitally
manipulated sonics that she stretches and layers with a painterly
touch. These electronic sounds inhabit the same environment as
field recordings, ceremonial percussion, guitars and empathic
vocals, weaving together her vast and borderless influences into
an enveloping world. “I want this record to take people on a
journey through the wonders of our incredible planet, to help
people feel held by the mysteries of nature,” she enthuses. “I
believe music can heal.” After a string of celebrated releases on
Thrill Jockey, Sarah Louise is self-releasing Earth Bow on her
new imprint of the same name.

Blackened Blues with Doom and Punk influences, Black Totem’s Deathrock is overflowing with superstition, vice and horror. Up to no good since 2008, Black Totem are notorious road-dogs of the Finnish underground, cutting their teeth and scraping their raw knuckles in a slew of live shows through the years. The band has shown promise since the early days releasing two EP’s and a self-titled debut album, which won an award for Best Rock Album at the Turku Music Awards in 2016. With their new album “Shapeshifting,” Black Totem are downright lycanthropic, breaking out of their enigmatic origins and taking on a much more unadulterated form. Their catchy, raucous Blues songs, with wild, untamed backing vocals and horror-soundtrack keys, give a distinctly Finnish lizard-disco hysteria to their fortified sound, coming across like a blood-bath in a moonshine distillery. Howling at the moon, with lungs of bile, Danzig/Misfits/Samhain influences are fleshed out with the Doom-laden riff-war of Celtic Frost, Venom and Darkthrone. Together with the catchier urban song-craft of the Black Keys, this cauldron of Black Totem’s magic formula makes “Shapeshifting” a familiar, yet heavily enjoyable natural genre-clash of their own.

Following an acclaimed EP from Brussels duo The Untouchables, DNO Records stays in Belgium for the next instalment of its global bass odyssey, but offers up a wholly different kind of trip originating from Charleroi.

Leading the way are Clearlight & Owl. The pair typically operate together as Glÿph — producing glitchy, modern techstep — but the use of their independent aliases is an early indicator to expect the minimalist experimentalism found in their solo work.

Cathal Coughlan is the co-founder and singer of acclaimed 80s/90s pop-rock groups Microdisney and Fatima Mansions, and widely considered to be one of Ireland's most revered singer/songwriters, beloved by fans of caustic literate music in the vein of Wilco, Robert Forster and Mark Eitzel. He's released four acclaimed solo albums and this will be his first new music in 10 years. Features and reviews already set for Mojo and The Wire and expect plentiful support from BBC6 Music. Enclosed in a stunning sleeve by award-winning Bruce Brand (The Darkness and White Stripes) with a focus image portrait by outsider artist Cristabel Christo. The new record not only has his usual backing musicians, The Necropolitan String Quartet, but also Luke Haines (Auteurs/Black Box Recorder), Sean O'Hagan (Microdisney/High Llamas), Rhodri Marsden (Scritti Politti) , Aindrías O Gruama (Fatima Mansions), Cory Gray (The Delines) and Dublin singer-songwriter Eileen Gogan.. Loosely conceptual, and based around the persona of Co-Aklan, the LP is melodic and inventive. Twelve fabulous new songs; three will have videos from Marry Waterson and Andy Golding of the Wolfhounds. "Coughlan's intelligence and passion are a rebuke to a vapid music industry, his chronicles of disaffection and disgust an inspiration." - David Peschek, The Guardian