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Mr. K is back again with a double-sider that tackles the ups and downs of love and does it in fabulous style with two solid soul classics.

Yvonne Fair was a veteran of the soul music world when she finally got the chance to record her first full length album in 1975. She had recorded multiple singles under the guidance of James Brown (her “I Found You” was reworked by Brown into the chart-topper “I Got You (I Feel Good)”) and, after leaving the JB camp for the auspices of Motown, a clutch of 7-inches with Norman Whitfield. These were gathered together to form her first (and only) full-length, but before the album was completed a final song was added to fill things out. This last minute touch would turn out to be the crowning achievement of her career. “It Should’ve Been Me” didn’t seem to be a notable addition at first. The song was originally done by Kim Weston a decade earlier and then by Gladys Knight. But Fair’s version had something special. In addition to the novel addition of a percolating drum machine pulse, Fair imbued the lyrics with a heartfelt sincerity and gruff emotion that touched listeners in a way that other versions had missed. Released as a single in the UK in late ’75, the song rose to the top ten of the British charts by February of the following year, inspiring Motown to release it as a US single. The song never replicated its UK success in the States, but went on to have a long life as a staple of drag performances and gay club life. Gay club life being the heart of all great club life, it’s only natural that the impact of the song has continued to spread, from Adeva’s hit house version in 1991 to Miley Cyrus’s recent revival of the song. Danny Krivit pays tribute to this storied history with his own version, a simple yet effective edit that stays true to the original but gives DJs a little more room (and fans a little more time to sing along!) than the all-too-brief original.

Continuing on our theme of lovelorn loss and redemption, Mr. K turns his attention to the New Birth’s “Brand New Lover” for our B-side. While the original slowly moves from the tentative, immediate aftermath of breakup to the eventual positive path forward, Krivit’s edit jumps straight to the joyous resolution to find new love, riding a delicious call and response chorus punctuated by signature breakdowns from master producer Harvey Fuqua. Danny’s edit provides a natural uplifting opportunity that never stops building over the course of its extended five minutes. Until now, the track has only been available on the group’s debut 1970 full-length, and never on a 7-inch single.

As always, this release has been mastered to the highest standards and is certain to find a spot in the bags of discerning listeners and DJs alike.

The Days of Mars is the debut album from artists Delia Gonzalez & Gavin Russom. It was released on October 10, 2005. All the music was created by layering live takes of custom built synthesizers and other instruments. "DFA duo skips stones across the same cosmic lake as forefathers Tangerine Dream, Terry Riley, and Mike Oldfield. (...) Still, in a landscape full of seen and unseen phenomena, where the unknown seems almost passé, Gonzalez and Russom make music for taking things in stride. By turns bleak and beautiful, this is music for a new, but vaguely familiar world." - Pitchfork

Coming hot on the heels of dynArec's 'Murder is The Number' EP, Sync 24's Cultivated Electronics label presents this double-pack by Alonzo, aptly named 'They Come In Twos'. Originally from Miami and now based in New York, Alonzo has previously released on W.T. Records, Zement, RotterHague, Phormix, Kraftjerkz, and Lost Soul Enterprises. He's also known as Lithium Parasites alongside bandmate, Vidrio. Alonzo's uncompromising approach draws influence from bleak urban landscapes, old city ruins, kinematics and all things bass which he finely represents across these 8 new tracks. Pressed on Yellow and Black vinyl!!!

Summertime sunshine, soaked up across two stunning tracks from Things You Say on Palm Recs. Bursting at the seams with festival energy the A side ‘Thank You Baby’ is a disco house belter, with that fist pumping feeling deep down in its soul.

On the B, ‘Play The Drums’ a hypnotic Italo disco flavoured foray into the depths. Space echoed vocals, punchy synth bass and a crisp beat will have the dancefloor in the palm of your hands.

An absolutely legendary album from Lebanon by Issam Hajali’s group Ferkat Al Ard, “Oghneya” stands out as one of the great musical gems of the Arab world. A groundbreaking release from 1978 that represents the meeting point of Arab, jazz, folk and Brazilian styles with the talent of Ziad Rahbani, who did the albums arrangements. Filled with a variety of sounds and genres, from Baroque Pop to Psych-Folk to flashes of Bossa Nova, Tropicalia and MPB, “Oghneya” is like if Arthur Verocai took a trip to Beirut in the 70’s to record an album.

In 2015 we heard Ferkat Al Ard’s music for the first time, a Lebanese trio compromised of Issam Hajali, Toufic Farroukh and Elia Saba. It was a stunningly unique release that blends traditional Arabic elements, jazz and Brazilian rhythms hand in hand with poetic-yet-politically engaged lyrics. The band was active in the left-wing movement of Lebanon of the time and they communicated their political ideas candidly through their songwriting.

In our mind the idea was to see whether Issam was interested in re-releasing “Oghneya.” He was not opposed to it, but also made it clear that it was not his priority for a first project. He suggested we start with his first album, before Ferkat Al Ard was formed, “Mouasalat Ila Jacad El Ard,” which was recorded in 1977 in Paris together with his friend Roger Fakhr (whose work we have been privileged to re-release in the meantime as well.) “Mouasalat Ila Jacad El Ard” is melancholic, stripped-down, guitar-based folk intertwined with jazz-fused breaks, and the unique sound of the santour glistens through. While the music is very accessible, some song structures are rather atypical, neglecting common patterns of verse, hook, verse, hook. The lyrics mostly trace back to the poetic work of Palestinian author Samih El Kasem, with one song also written by Issam, who composed the music for the whole album.

We re-released Issam’s “Mouasalat Ila Jacad El Ard” in 2019 to a great reception, with positive reviews all over the place and an ongoing appreciation for the album. This meant it was time for us to undertake an “Oghneya” re-release again!

If you compare “Mouasalat Ila Jacad El Ard” and “Oghneya,” one apparent distinction is the strong Brazilian influence in the music. Issam Hajali explained that you can already hear traces of this influence on his debut, but it’s “Oghneya” where this musical relationship really peaks. Lebanon and Brazil have had a strong connection for nearly a century due to the continuous flow of immigrants from one country to the other. Today, Brazil has the largest Lebanese diaspora in the world, the “Brasilibanês”. The migratory route was not a one-way street, however, and some Lebanese returned to their home country, taking recordings of the music they learned to love in Brazil with them. They were followed by Brazilian musicians who visited primarily Beirut during the 1960’s and the first half of the 1970’s, just like many other musicians from around the world. In these years between the independence and the beginning of the civil war, Beirut became even more of a cultural center and regional hub than it already was.

Bossa Nova, at that time, was one of the defining sounds of Brazilian popular music. Issam Hajali remembers hearing it at a bar in Beirut’s Hamra district in 1974, which hosted musicians from Brazil playing the occasional gig. When Issam had returned from Paris in 1976 he got to know Ziad Rahbani, son of Fairouz, who had a shared passion with Issam for a lot of things, among them Brazilian music. Issam showed him some of the tracks he was working on, and Ziad agreed to help with arranging. The music that evolved from this cooperation between Ferkat Al Ard and Ziad Rahbani’s arrangement is, to put it lightly, outstanding. Issam’s singing is embedded into the uniquely beautiful string arrangements backed by the band’s poignant, swinging groove. The lyrics of the songs on “Oghneya” are based on poems by Mahmoud Darwish, Samih Al Qasem and Tawfiq Ziad, three pillars of Palestinian poetry within the last century, and their influence on “Oghneya” was itself a strong political statement during the Lebanese war.

“Oghneya” was eventually released in 1978 by the band themselves on cassette tapes. Finding a blank tape that fit the playing time proved to be impossible during the war so they needed to open up the case of each cassette to physically cut down the tape and customize it to the playing time. The album was well received, though some cultural critics deemed it too “occidental” in its sound. While the cassette was circulating, Ziad Rahbani started a label called Zida, together with Khatchik Mardirian. They decided to help the band with a re-release on vinyl in 1979, a year after “Oghneya” was originally released on cassette.

Sadly, there are two tracks from the original release of “Oghneya” that did not make it onto the reissue. “Ghfyara Ghaza” was replaced by the song “Juma’a 6 Hziran.” while “Huloul” was taken off without a replacement. This happened as a precondition from the band for this reissue to happen. We would have loved to include all tracks, but the decision ranged between having either a reissue like the one we put out or no reissue at all. Thus, an easy choice for us.

As always both vinyl and CD come with an extensive booklet with an interview with Issam as well as unseen photos from the recording sessions.

Dark Entries presents a reissue of Shawn Pittman’s 1989 Dreams, an obscure and highly sought-after private press gem produced and written by Art Forest. An undersung figure in the development of the late 80’s Detroit techno sound, Forest collaborated with, produced, or penned material for many of the key players in the movement, including Inner City, Suburban Knight, and the Belleville Three themselves (on Kreem’s “Triangle of Love”). This reissue gives Forest’s own productions some shine while providing a thrill for both dancers and collectors.

Dreams features two songs, both written and produced by Art Forest and featuring Shawn Pittman on vocals. The A-side contains two mixes of “Dreams”, a smooth R&B/modern soul number driven by Pittman’s vocal. While the song is undeniably radio-friendly, it contains some of the hallmarks of the Detroit techno sound – sparse arrangement, lush reverb, and booming bass. On the B-side, we are treated to two different versions of the clubbier “I’m Losing Control”. The original mix leans towards boogie/freestyle, with syncopated 909 beats and sassy synth vamps, and wouldn’t sound out of place next to Forest’s work with Inner City. The Extended-Bass-ment Club Mix strips things down and dubs them out, leaving us with shards of bass synth, brooding strings, and Pittman’s vocals eerily warped to the edge of recognition; a perfect late-night warehouse anthem.

All songs were remastered by George Horn at Fantasy Studios. The sleeve is a replica of the original cover art. Also included is a 2-sided postcard with lyrics and photos of Art.

Between the late 70s and the early 80s, pop music was in a transitional phase. After a return to the roots of punk, rock was morphing into new wave, while disco was rapidly declining and the electronic revolution, already on the rise, was ushering in the transition from analog to digital. This period also saw the emergence and relatively brief flowering of a commercially dominant style that mixed soul influences (especially Stevie Wonder and Ear th Wind & Fi re) , folk/pop songwriting and jazz sensibilities in equal measure, creating a hybrid easy on the ears but also emotionally and musically rich. It was the style represented by artists like Christopher Cross, Michael McDonald, Gino Vannelli and Kenny Loggins, who were all influenced by black music. They belonged to a larger trend that took place in all major music producing countries, including Italy where, like so many other things, the style was not merely imported or copied, but reshaped into a specifically local version based on the nation's tastes and cultural traditions. In Italy, a soulful and sophisticated approach to pop music was embraced not only by established names like Mina, Alan Sorrenti and Loredana Berté, but also, and perhaps most importantly, by an entire generation of writers, arrangers and musicians who had grown up listening to early fusion, to Steely Dan's refined recordings, and to Quincy Jones's productions. So, with this compilation we hope to give new exposure to artists and songs that, despite having moderate or little success when first released, must be regarded as among the creative peaks of Italian pop music. "Paisà Got Soul" features pop veterans Peppino Di Capri, Mario Lavezzi and Alberto Radius alongside atypical singer-songwriters (Enzo Carella, Enzo Cervo, Gino D'Eliso), Italo-disco heroes (Stefano Pulga), international hit composers (Beppe Cantarelli, who has co-written for Aretha Franklin and Mariah Carey), Brazilian-born naturalized Italians (Jim Porto) and complete unknowns (Franco Camassa, I Ricci, Massimo Stella).It brings together little gems that in most cases are no longer available on the market, or only available in their original and now very rare vinyl format. We believe they all deserve to be rediscovered today, partly because of the recently renewed interest in "yacht rock", as this music style has been retrospectively named, and partly because they provide further evidence that Italian artists rework international music styles in creative and original ways.

Compiled and conceived by David Nerattini partnered by Pierpaolo De Sanctis

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

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

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

Following the sublime smash debut "X17", LA-based label Elbow Grease head conductor Dave Aju continues on his righteous piece-by-piece journey toward a multi-genre multiverse, where deep musical roots come together in kaleidoscopic expression, and unfakeable funk reigns supreme.

"Spacio Tempo" picks up where we last left off, though with a notable drop in bpm as the title implies, with a rolling 4/4 textural tapestry that combines pulsating layers of soulful synth work, effervescent live percussion, and heavenly strings into a dense yet open-as-the-night-sky extended gem yet again. Just as the machine patterns of near-equator rhythms bubble over and begin to lock into a hypnotic groove, a bold left turn into a dank latin jazz noir vibraphone solo and SH-101 duet tango ensues, before landing us safely back at home base - right on time, at its own spacial pace.

As per the Elbow Grease release recipe so far, the B1 cut offers DJs a more driving flex, this time in the form of the "Acido Tempo Mix": a raw 303-driven take on the original which will undoubtedly stomp its way fiercely thru many bass bins in sweaty basements and warehouses worldwide. Finally the B2 blessing "Domingo Dub" closes things out, removing all but the highest vibes as an ambient drifting and uplifting take on the main theme, where the faintest of vocal tones, space echoes, and light percussive touches leave us elated in a West Coast, with subtle splashes from the D, sunset dream. Another solid single turned three-tracker sure-shot from EG.

Rising star Amy Dabbs delivers us another huge house EP, dropping as the debut release on her brand new label Dabbs Traxx. The modern take on classic house that she's become renowned for in her recent
highly acclaimed releases permeates every track on Four Track Mind EP, serving up Amy's trademark pacey rhythmic percussion, emotive melodies, and fat subby basslines.
Ghosts kicks things off with ticking clocks and haunting melodies woven throughout, creating a deeply atmospheric track. It surrounds you with thick layers of pads and strings, underpinned with tear-jerking chords and vocals, sprinkled with touches of Amy’s beloved Juno 106. This track relays a moving tale of facing the ghosts of your past which, alongside Ghosts’ powerful percussive drops, is guaranteed to give the dancefloor goosebumps in more ways than one.
Til You See takes us in an uplifting direction, with a powerful bassline blazing against a backdrop of soaring pads and delicately placed arpeggiators, leading towards a spine-tingling yet subtle vocal as the track reaches its peak. Bringing Amy's desire to create music that moves you to life, this stunning track is brimming with jubilance and optimism from beginning to end.
Last but by no means least comes the EP's title track, Four Track Mind, its nostalgic organ sounds, bouncy percussive chops and big basslines ensuring it will be a huge dancefloor moment when played out. This energetic track takes you into the heavens with its relentlessly uplifting transitions throughout, Amy's intention clearly to place you firmly in the centre of the dancefloor with a massive smile on your face.
Having recently been named as one of BBC Radio 1's Future Stars 2022, and with a string of solo EPs coming out over the next 6 months, it's quickly becoming clear that Amy Dabbs is going to be a name we'll be hearing a lot more of this year

Marc Brauner makes his return to the label, this time collaborating with fellow Berliner, Ulrich Harrison - better known by moniker Tender Games - on five summertime sweeteners.

These two producers are no stranger to working together, co-running their own imprint, Nostalgics Records in their home town of Berlin. This collaboration then came together naturally, and represents the ideal blend of Marc Brauner's syncopated rhythmic tendencies, and Tender Games' musical antecedents in soul music and penchant for instrumentation.

'Concrete Jungle' epitomises this fusion: a two-step rhythm carries a deep bassline which cruises beneath a blissed-out trumpet melody. 'You Keep Me Up' and 'Listen' are skippy old school bangers, the former complete with anthemic piano stabs a la Manix and Inner City and the latter peppered with blithe whispers of a saxophone. 'It Makes Me' follows suit, substituting hi-hats for a focus on funk-inflected low ends before the UKG-leaning 'Violation' draws things to a close with MC vocal chops and bass womp ruffage.

Concrete Jungle EP drops 17th June 2022 via Shall Not Fade

"Same Team" ist die erste Single des kommenden Albums S.I.D.E.S. Die Single behandelt persönliche und berufliche Konflikte - Alice sagt über den Song: "Ich hatte das Gefühl, in Welten hineingezogen zu werden, die ich nicht verstand, und Gespräche mit Menschen zu führen, in denen wir einfach nicht dieselbe Sprache sprachen. Ein Team durchläuft Höhen und Tiefen, zieht aber oft an einem Strang, um noch stärker zu werden - in manchen Fällen tut es aber auch genau das Gegenteil."

"Don’t be afraid, old son, it’s only me,
though not as I’ve appeared before,
on the battlements of your signature,
or margin of a book you can’t throw out"
~ Michael Donaghy

Whytwo is a young, enigmatic artist from Scotland, UK. A talented multi-instrumentalist and performer with an extraordinarily broad range.
First coming to Blu Mar Ten's attention after entering their 2017 remix competition, Whytwo created a wildly different take on their track 'Titans', bending it into a skittering, menacing groove while somehow maintaining a playful edge.

Fast-forward a little and we've now arrived at Whytwo's debut LP, 'Ghost', an exhilarating and elasticated take on Drum & Bass that exists in the hinterland between elation, melancholy and longing.

Mirroring Whytwo's music, the album's title, 'Ghost', is richly layered word, meaning, in different places and at different times; a memory of something or someone; to disappear without communication; to move quietly and quickly; to secretly do work for another; and, of course, a being caught between worlds.
From the old English, 'Gast', meaning 'breath' or 'spirit', the word eventually transformed into 'Ghost' coming to describe "a slight suggestion, mere shadow or semblance". All of these definitions relate, in some way, to the album now before us.

In conversations with Whytwo, he describes how his Jazz musician Grandfather was the person responsible for first giving him music-making software, and whose clarinet features on some of the album tracks. At the same time that 'Ghost' was being created, Whytwo was looking after a young child and some of the drums on 'Ghost' are recordings of the child hitting things. Whytwo describes the feeling of existing between these two extreme states, young & old, naive & experienced, primitive & advanced, and taking the role of a medium 'caught between worlds' whose task was to stitch together this generational fabric.

The result is nothing less than spectacular. Despite having its roots in Drum & Bass, the rules and conventions of the style are ruthlessly disobeyed resulting in glittering cascades of melody, harmony and rhythm that somehow burst with both sadness and joy, hope & loss, memory and anticipation. The music swoops and dips, briefly casting shadows before blasting them away with sunlight, evoking memories both personal and collective. This is 'Lost Soul Music' that manages to speak to all of us.

Despite being deceptively listenable, Whytwo insists this is not relaxing background music. Listeners should fully engage with the music beyond its attractive surface and absorb it at the same deep human level where it was created. 'Ghost's production levels are astoundingly high but focussing on those would be a mistake. They only serve to carry the spiritual content of the music across to the audience and unlock the valves of feeling. The beauty here is not the machine, but the ghost in the machine.

The Nutty Trax Volume One EP is a record that looks at the more fun side of breakbeat hardcore whilst not descending into cheese territory. It takes its cues from the early sound of 1994, when things were a little naughty and a little annonymous. Larger than life pianos, hefty breaks, bouncy stabs and of course, the female lead vocal. This was made for midnight parties and summer afternoons, and is packed with feel good vibes!

Mastered by Bernie Grundman from the Original Analog Master Tapes & Pressed at Gotta Groove!
Numbered Deluxe Laminated Gatefold Jackets!
Only 2500 Numbered Limited Edition Copies Worldwide!

John Coltrane returns to his roots using the Blues to explore the boundaries of Jazz! Features McCoy Tyner, Steve Davis and Elvin Jones! Recorded in 1960 during the My Favorite Things sessions, Coltrane Plays The Blues features "Blues To Bechet," "Blues To Elvin" and "Blues To You" in addition to three other tracks.

"Coltrane's sessions for Atlantic in late October 1960 were prolific, yielding the material for My Favorite Things, Coltrane Plays the Blues, and Coltrane's Sound. My Favorite Things was destined to be the most remembered and influential of these, and while Coltrane Plays the Blues is not as renowned or daring in material, it is still a powerful session. As for the phrase "plays the blues" in the title, that's not an indicator that the tunes are conventional blues (they aren't). It's more indicative of a bluesy sensibility, whether he is playing muscular saxophone or, on "Blues to Bechet" and "Mr. Syms," the more unusual sounding (at the time) soprano sax. Elvin Jones, who hadn't been in Coltrane's band long, really busts out on the quicker numbers, such as "Blues to You" and "Mr. Day." - Richie Unterberger


"The Coltrane Quartet, three-fourths complete at the time of this recording, had begun its historic rise and had also turned the corner in Coltrane's music, transitioning from the expressive verticality of Giant Steps to the more elongated, long-limbed lyricism that would define his role in the avant-garde. It can come as no surprise that to do so, he engaged the material he'd known longest and best - the blues." - Neil Tesser, author of The Playboy Guide To Jazz

Following on from the success of 2018’s epic triple album The Saving Of Cadan, Cornwall’s space/psych/folk-rock/post-punk cross-pollinators HANTERHIR are back with a new studio album. After more than a decade, …Cadan finally found the band breaking out of their Redruth bolthole, playing a major headline show at London’s Kernow In The City festival in March 2020, just before lockdown. As with many others, this enforced break from gigging encouraged the band to get creative and the new album was soon progressing…Its Cornish title Nyns Eus Denvydth Bys Trest roughly translates as ‘There is no-one to trust’ – “Writing and recording the album was done over the backdrop of Brexit, a falling apart relationship and then Covid lockdowns,” explains singer, guitarist, and songwriter Ben Harris. “With all the wacky things that have come out of people’s mouths over the past few years I think the title pretty much sums everything up.” A massive labour of love for Ben, …Cadan was a sprawling concept based on Cornish legend, which required him to write within a theme. The creation of this album has therefore been a breath of fresh air, a more organic experience allowing him to write from a more personal and immediate perspective. Displaying elements of Hawkwind’s sturm und drang spacerock and Psychedelic Furs’ sax-driven post-punk squall, opener ‘Always On’ finds the septet celebrating themselves: “We play so many gigs with so many other bands and one thing that strikes me about us is that we're always ready, we don't spend hours soundchecking, just point us in the direction of a stage and we'll play there. “‘Honeybees’ is us singing to the people that it's possibly time to stop voting for the same political parties and following the same failed systems,” he continues. “As far as I can see nothing's got better over the past year, or ten years or whatever, things just get slowly worse and people accept it. ”The song ‘Yeah’, which fuses Steeleye Span folk-rock melody and Sonic Youth chaos with spiralling psych guitar, has backing vocals which translate as “I am the same as you”, which Ben thinks is very important: “We're all the same and no-one is more important that anyone else”. Recorded at MHRCC, The Chapel and VIP Lounge by Peasy and Dare Mason; produced by Peasy and mastered by Anders Petersen at Ghost Sounds, Stockholm.

Solo bedroom-pop project of Michael Ramos (Flowertown, April Magazine, Hectorine). Mostly recorded between last Christmas and New Year's during a window of isolation at home, “Hey There Flower” preserves Tony Jay’s prowess at making beautifully eerie lo-fi pop; like a hazy memory where your favorite Sixties girl-group melody is perpetually slowed down. Without a band to practice with, Tony Jay recorded the music alone, but recruited a slew of friends to remotely record backing vocals: Karina Gill (Cindy), Griffin Jones (Galore), Kati Mashikian (Mister Baby), Alexis Harper (Al Harper), & Hannah Lew (Cold Beat). "Hey There Flower", the most recent release from the prolific and mysterious Tony Jay delivers real melodies -- both lacey with vocal harmonies and dusty with layered guitars -- as fans have come to expect. This release also carries forward and elaborates on Tony Jay's tradition of songs that express a kind of naked honesty about things we all know -- love and loneliness and all that -- while communicating at the same time a wry edge of skepticism, so that the songs are like coins spinning on edge before landing heads, tails, or lost under the couch. Tony Jay brings us into a nostalgia where we recognize moods from music of the past -- Marc Boland definitely comes to mind, as well as Velvet Underground of the Nico era, and Tony Jay even covers Francoise Hardy on this collection -- but the songs create a three dimensional space with what feels like a thousand layers so that instead of being thrown back in time, it's like stepping into a little world with its own laws of nature, of which the listener gets just a few hints. - Karina Gill, Cindy/Flowertown. “Hey There Flower” is introduced by thudding snare beats eliciting reverb-stained tattered noisy guitar scrapes, to weave abrasive shimmery emotive vibrations, imbued with shattered nostalgic dreams, lit by brittle yet dazzling forsaken keyboard flows, over submerged and distorted male vocal’s whispery deluge of obsessive longing, lonely melancholy, and dark desire to exude a hazy gritty concoction of awkward sadness and brooding unrest.” White Light // White Heat // “What Tony sketches are concise commentaries on love, loneliness and a few things in between. His mode of expression is sparse, intense, and captivating. The arrangements are invariably lo-fi and slow tempo, blanketed with a fuzzy hiss. And it only took one listen to decide that it is a very special album. It has a '60s feel, albeit washed in an eerie slowcore machine. An ace example is "September Skies", which could be the 1965 'last dance' at the prom for the introverted students.” - When You Motor Away