quête:the wind

Composer, electronic music innovator, and Pere Ubu's original synthesist Allen Ravenstine returns to Waveshaper Media with the diptych LP (comprised of 1 EP per side) Nautilus / Rue De Poisson Noir, the final two parts in Raventine’s Tyranny of Fiction series. Waveshaper Media first came into contact with Ravenstine when we interviewed him in 2012 for our modular synthesizer documentary I Dream Of Wires.

Nautilus / Rue De Poisson Noir brings together 21 of the prodigious composer’s recent lyrical and abstract compositions collectively comprised of the sounds of analogue and digital synthesizers, alongside traditional acoustic instruments. The first 10 recordings, subtitled Nautilus, are found on Side A of this LP while the second 11, Rue Du Poisson Noir, comprise Side B.

Using a singular blend of acoustic and electronic instrumentation, each track on Nautilus, weaves its own wayward travelogue amidst stray bits of audio verité and wafting musical fragrances—by turns tropical and foreboding. Rue De Poisson Noir takes cues from its fragmentary companion both in palette and approach, slithering between cinematic intrigue, off-brand jazz, avant-garde mischief, and fried electro without ever batting an eye. Together they form a beguiling collection of hyperrealist miniatures that remains strange, restless, inquisitive and — most of all — evocative throughout.

For those in the know, Allen Ravenstine has been one of the most creative synthesizer players of the past forty-plus years. Ravenstine started out in the mid-1970s experimenting in his Cleveland apartment with an analogue EML 200 synthesizer, eventually creating a piece in 1975 that became known as Terminal Drive. While he had no intention of releasing his compositions, word got out about the kind of sounds he was experimenting with, which led to an invitation to join pioneering “avant garage” group Pere Ubu for the recording of the group’s first 45, “Thirty Seconds Over Tokyo.” He soon joined Pere Ubu full-time, bringing to the band’s sound unpredictable textures, effects, bleeps, squalls, pulsating washes of sound—whatever he felt could enhance the soundscape of the band’s performances and recordings.

By the early 1990s, Ravenstine had grown sick of the road, band infighting and the music industry in general. Deciding a change was needed, he opted to forego music altogether, making his living as an airplane pilot. His music career remained in limbo until 2012, when an interview for the I Dream Of Wires documentary, alongside Robert Wheeler who had succeeded him as Pere Ubu’s synthesist, turned into a recording session for the duo, leading to a series of collaborative releases. As well as having his 1975 Terminal Drive recordings released to great acclaim in 2017, Ravenstine has been prolific in recent years, with Nautilus / Rue De Poisson Noir now marking his 4th solo full-length.

DJ Cam & sommelier Frédéric Beneix present Wine4Melomanes, an eclectic and unique
compilation album concept, matching fine wines with rare pieces of music produced in the
same year.
Connecting the complexity, sensuality, liveliness of a drink with the harmony, arrangements,
voice, orchestration, rhythm and melody of a song, Wine4Melomanes tours France,
Germany, Holland, the USA and even Slovakia in search of only the finest musical flavours.
Ranging from jazz, to pop-rock, to blue-eyed soul from the early 70s right through to 2016,
Wine4Melomanes is defined by its sense of musical opulence, with warm rich tones and
understated quality evident throughout. DJ Cam is known for his pioneering abstract hip-hop musical
compositions, his virtuoso use of technology and his fascination for acoustic jazz gaining him
international acclaim.

LIMITED ICE BLUE VINYL

On Delta, a dozen artists across four continents freely interpret Fountain across a double LP, again featuring Donna Huanca’s surreal artwork, and the unearthly graphic manipulations of Nufolklore Studios. Remaining faithful to Fountain’s presentation, Lyra’s curation reflects her commitment to stylistic diversity, with the old guard and the next wave alongside each other. Where some artists chose to rework existing works, others composed new material from fragments found across the record. The results showcase the very themes of wordless identity conflict and technological concerns that Lyra and her foremothers have projected.

the limitless highs of Sigur Ros and the steady pulse of The Knife. KMRU cloaks Lyra in a hazy film, soundtracking the depths of space embedded within the ghosts of jungle past. Gabber Modus Operandi expose the realities of artificial nature in a multicoloured rave dystopia. Eris Drew’s double opus takes the tenets of her philosophies into both ambient and peaktime expressions of the trip, the things that lead to the decision before, and the portals that can open up after.
Ben Frost dissolves Cradle’s deep and tremulous hymn in analogue warble, distressed tape spooling out of control and breaking up over the heavens, while remaining oddly serene. Heaven In Stereo conjures up post-rock with trap drums out of Gossip, buried in bass weight and dub space. Nailah Hunter and Tygapaw transform New Moon into an earthbound ode to nature and a pounding trance state induction, while Caterina Barbieri and Hudson Mohawke extract and amplify Tendril’s mind and soul. Vessel takes what feels like the entire album and builds it up to a frantic climax before subsuming into Enoesque pastoralia.
Alongside Delta, Lyra has collaborated with Spitfire Audio to develop Siren Songs, a free plug-in for their LABS series made from playable samples from Fountain, able to work across DAWs in multiple formats. By removing barriers to access, the listener can craft their own responses to the album’s themes, or use its language to express their innermost feelings in their own works.
Life and society emerge where water tessellates over land and provides fertile soil. The chances of evolution that made them interact as they did could have had meaningful environmental consequences had things developed differently. For Lyra Pramuk, that fertile geology provides the ground for her albums. Fountain was that burst of water and swell of energy that propelled her to critical acclaim. Delta is a new take on a traditional remix album, centred on transgenerational dialogue and global storytelling, and will be released again via Iceland’s Bedroom Community label. Projecting Fountain through prisms, wordless songs fractalize into lush creations that blossom with new life.
The ability to have such sheer diversity of material in one place is thanks to the global increase in accessible technologies, fueling an explosion of creativity and genre exploration that was thought of as unthinkable in our lifetimes. Like its namesake, Delta is a point where creative flows meet and triangulate, where global and personal folk histories are presented in novel ways, where transcultural collaboration is celebrated, where many worlds emerge from the depths below.
RIYL: The Knife, Spacetime Continuum, Lorenzo Senni, the soundtrack to Planete Sauvage, 3:45 AM by the front left speaker, 7:45 AM as light pours in and everything winds down.

We used to enjoy presenting Chapelier Fou's work using the idea of music in the form of a treasure hunt. However, while the phrase in itself it still just as relevant today, we would never have imagined that it would become such an integral part of one of his albums. Or two of his albums to be perfectly exact - Méridiens and Parallèles. Two records with twelve songs each which answer each other back in the form of anagrams. They are like the two sides of the same planet - similar but simultaneously so different. They need to be discovered one after the other taking the time necessary to travel through the sound territories produced by his imagination. The starting point is a sombre night in Uqbar… Chapelier Fou's opening reference to Borgès was obviously not made by chance. He subsequently confided in us the objective of his diptych, namely to combine reality with fiction to question certainties and our relationships with the imaginary sphere. He has continued with his traditional classical-contemporary electronic approach which, although now known to a wide audience, has the advantage of opening up a whole range of possibilities right up to the infinite scale. Moving away from an "État Nain" (Dwarf State) to take refuge on an asteroid...Throughout Méridiens, each composition can be seen as a universe in itself or a specific landscape with its own temporality. Proof of this is the introduction to the chamber music format composed for and performed by only strings which can only be given the date we want to give it. This is "État Nain" in which violins are played like guitars. In some parts we find the spirit of the Penguin Cafe Orchestra and the idea of cheering up classical instruments and not taking everything too seriously. In other parts, we find something close to a mischievous and childish unplugged grunge anthem that could be from the French series Les Shadoks. This mischievous view of things is shown to full effect in Am Scharchtensee. The introduction shows Chapelier Fou's whole classical universe and mastery of orchestration in which "modular" electronics provide a subtle and discreet backdrop. Then, the record suddenly switches to a surrealist dialogue between these classical sounds and modular synthesizers with the flavour of the German pioneers Kluster/Harmonia to name but one example. Timelessness and imaginary places. La vie de cocagne confirms this choice of total freedom. It's traditional music with old sounds, a kind of forgotten bourrée (old French dance) in which electronic sounds disturb the established order and thus reach another musical dimension. Le méridien du Péricarde followed by Désert de Sonora push this idea of a trompe l'oreille and a hall of mirrors even further. The latter track ends almost like a catchy 80s melody and we can no longer find any logical meaning. We let ourselves be carried away by this profusion of madness and are a little amazed by this mastery of sound, composition and space. It sometimes all seems like a succession of conjuring tricks. Chapelier Fou takes not being serious very seriously indeed. The end song Everest trail is the perfect conclusion, a deadpan track in which the primary aspect of a totally classical melody in all its straightness is underpinned by a permanent exchange of electronic tweets which mocks the main musical posture. This impertinence harks back to Pierre Schaeffer who directed the ORTF's very serious experimental department in another era and allowed the development of Jacques Rouxel's series Les Shadoks thus introducing the general public to the notion of concrete music. This is also perhaps why Louis Warynski's stage name is French – because he has opted to use his French musical heritage. Thus the first singles selected from this album, Constantinople with its groovy and jazzy allure and Le Triangle des Bermudes evoke composers like Michel Magne or Michel Colombier both of whom have totally open minds and consider all music to have the same importance, namely that of sound. In absolutely all the tracks that make up Méridiens, you will find at least one detail - a pattern, melody, sometimes a simple sound - that will draw you back to explore it a little more. And the words are carefully weighed for sure. It's quite simple. This is undoubtedly his most hypnotizing and catchy album. Chapelier Fou has become a complete master of his own universe. He draws the start and finish lines himself and no one can follow him in a field that now belongs to him alone. Composed imaginary spheres, illustrated territories...Music is just as meaningful as the more visual arts. Therefore the artwork of Méridiens had to project each of the twelve tracks considered individually and not just the whole album as such. Chapelier Fou therefore asked his old friend the contemporary artist Corentin Grossman to create twelve windows to represent glimpses of the twelve worlds composed for the record. Windows or mirrors when it comes to that? You can never be sure of anything...Space OK. But what about time? The years go by and sometimes we forget that fact. But a simple glance back is often enough to gently touch the time that has passed. It is over 10 years since his first official record and he has been composing, recording and sharing his music for almost 20 years. 20 years is a long time. It makes some people look old while others fall into reassuring but sterile nostalgia. Chapelier Fou, on the other hand, has released his most ambitious project and tried to take a higher view of his discography that was itself nevertheless irreproachable. Although the journey is over we can see Parallèles universes on the horizon. Chapelier Fou has announced 12 additional tracks which are like echoes of the compositions on Méridiens' and will be released on the album Parallèles next spring. They are neither twins nor opposites – they are instead totally original new compositions which go further in exploring a universe which is already richly abundant.

There are records with empathy, records which are your friends and then there's the others... There might be little difference between them, a certain "je ne sais quoi", an "almost nothing but still something" which makes the difference between almost pointless and vital records. Despite, or rather thanks to his cynical despair, Matt Elliott's music never holds up a moralizing mirror to us - on the contrary, it creates a compassionate dialogue with listeners like the rhythm of two steps that synchronize to become as one. In 2016, Matt Elliot brought out his seventh solo album The Calm Before whose obscure title is neither exactly threatening nor comforting... the calm before what? Before the storm for sure but maybe also before the great record, the immediate classic we felt might be coming for a long time in the dual discography of the Bristol-born artist working under his own name and his electronic alias Third Eye Foundation. The elegant details and perspectives of Little Lost Soul (2000) already hinted at the upcoming masterpiece from the English singer-songwriter. The Mess We Made (2003) was Matt Elliott's first solo album and portrayed a universe in a kind of flight towards Balkan horizons made up of visceral despair. With the Songs trilogy, he put aside the electronic side of his work to continue working with a minimalist, stark and lucid style of writing. The Broken Man (2012) was full of tears and long laments sometimes carried by Katia Labèque's piano on a record which painted new shades of grey. On this record Matt began working with the producer, arranger and multi-instrumentalist David Chalmin (La Terre Invisible) who has kept on collaborating with the Bristol-born singer since then. Their partnership continued on Only Myocardial Infection Can Break Your Heart (2013) and The Calm Before (2016). Stéphane Grégoire is the head of the Ici D'Ailleurs label which has accompanied Matt Elliott since 2005 and perhaps he describes this album the best: "This new record by Matt is without a doubt his best album to date, a record that takes him into another dimension where he fully asserts himself as a songwriter and singer of the calibre of artists like Bill Callahan, Leonard Cohen or Johnny Cash." Matt Elliott's other records all seemed like empathic links between each other. Farewell To All We Know is an instant classic based on the sensitive piano and superb arrangements of David Chalmin, the sensitive cello of Gaspar Claus, the subtle bass of Jeff Hallam (who has also played with Dominique A and John Parish). There is a clear form of alchemy in all of this and still we find Matt Elliott's usual atmospheres and scenery, the same Eastern European folk music, long songs that take time to settle over time. Everything is the same but also is transfigured. By making his music stark and purifying and redefining the subject matter, Matt Elliott's work became so much more delicate. However this work is never frail nor really turned in on himself and thus becomes like a vital tune that vibrates and unfolds. The opening song Farewell To All We Know seems torn between the fear of what tomorrow may bring, inevitability and hope for the future in a permanent and progressive dramatic tension expressed by his Spanish guitar, the impressionist style piano and Matt's voice teetering on the edge of whispers. A funereal tribute to endless twilights and the dawns we all dream of seeing. There are touches of Leonard Cohen from Songs from a Room or Thanks For The Dance in The Day After That with Gaspar Claus's counterpoint cello. There is no spirit of resignation in Matt Elliott's work - life's path has to be followed against all odds. We have to follow the river's flow to reach the immense ocean and its infinite freedom. The haunted instrumental Guidance Is Internal harks back to the atmospheres of Howling Songs (2008) with its guitar parts full of scansions and muted threats. The music is transcendental but never seems afraid of the risk of falling. This is also what Bye Now tells us with its quasi-obsolete simplicity and sunburst melancholy reminiscent of the work of Luiz Bonfá, Bill Evans on Peace Piece or laidback crooners of the 50s. In Farewell To All We Know, Matt Elliott incessantly alternates between the dual desires to face up to the world or to protect himself from it. Hating The Player, Hating The Game is a lucid statement about the dullness of our daily lives sometimes, our right to get out of the game and no longer want to be part of it. Matt Elliott is tender but spares no one, particularly himself. Aboulia speaks of the tiredness of living and of looming death while Crisis Apparition says that there is always a time for reconstruction after chaos. This is like initially wearying wandering in the ruins of Aleppo with the slow dilution of the melody into a hallucinated drone. However the smell of great fires always fades and the earth always regenerates. Matt Elliott seems to suggest that the survival instinct is stronger than any cold winds could ever be. Matt Elliott never sings of certainties and prefers possibilities. Possibly the worst is over? Maybe... Maybe the storm has passed and devastated everything, now we just have to rebuild and live again. Farewell To All We Know shows us the distance that still needs to be walked and he walks next to you - right next to you, he is the friend who doesn't spare you the truth like all true friends really do.

The first vinyl LP release from Fluxus pioneer Alison Knowles (b. 1933). Sounds from the Book of Bean is an assemblage of noises and texts related to The Book of Bean (1982), Knowles’ 8-foot tall walk-in book constructed at Franklin Furnace in New York. This recording, the sounds of making the big book, was continually played back inside of the installation. Echoes of Yoshi Wada hammering together the circular spine of the book, other collaborators mixing ink, feeding a horse, the flowing waters of the Hudson Valley... all superimposed with texts and poems read by Knowles and her daughter Jessica Higgins.

On the second side of the album, the piece Essential Divisions features Knowles performing with red, black, and white beans. Recorded in Annea Lockwood’s underground studio, Knowles sounds the beans in glass, ceramics, wood, as well as in her mouth. Further bean histories and sound poems are recited, concluding with “Popular Bean Soup” – an ancient recipe translated by George Brecht.

Knowles’ big books are, as she describes them, transvironments: a transformationally experienced environment. The phenomenological nature of her book is distilled aurally in the case of this record. As Knowles describes the end of her book, “the reader leaves via a ladder or out the window and through a muslin panel printed with contradictory wisdom concerning beans and dreaming… one can begin again either by going on or turning back.”

Originally published as a cassette in 1982 on the New Wilderness Audiographics label, this remastered edition has been transferred from original tapes. An expansive 20-page booklet is included, holding graphics and writings from Alison Knowles, George Quasha, and Charlie Morrow.

Recorded by Alison Knowles, 1980
Produced by Alison Knowles, Sean McCann, & Charlie Morrow
Design by Alison Knowles, cover image courtesy George Quasha
Jessica Higgins adds voice to tracks 1, 3, 4, 5

A-side inside and B-side outside: this single is very loosely influenced by the collective experience of the long wait to be released; adding to the already exhausted canon of cultural covid artefacts. Cheeks is centred around the sub-bass of an old Italian organ and the honking sax of Iain McCall, telling the tale of a squashed individual. The over zealous approach to layers hopefully adds to the feeling of claustrophobia and mundane delirium.
If Cheeks is the wind up, Mild Weather is the release. An ode to the modern desire of one week in the sun, accepting that prize and returning back to the slog. Jayne’s beautiful vocal provides the centre-point to a casio led symphony, with acoustic and electronic drums fighting for attention throughout. As is the current norm, these tracks were written and recorded remotely and in a couple of sessions in Edinburgh at the beginning of 2021.

Have we ever needed great storytellers so badly? Voices to snap us out of our collective grey funk, to pull us out of our narrow, hemmed-in worlds and to lighten our days and enlighten us with their perspectives, Immersing us in their worldview and history. People who can make us laugh, cry, gasp or nod sagely, to see our world anew and not feel so alone. We need stories, vignettes, new windows to look out of, and narrators to help those new visions make sense.

In short, we need Scott Lavene. Born and raised in Essex, but a man of the world who has wandered far and wide, Lavene’s a storyteller who can capture all the madness, joy and frustration of life while singing about worms writhing in the ground. Lavene’s been in bands since his teens, but only really located the voice that makes his new album Milk City Sweethearts so remarkable – that combination of wry observation, humble wisdom, unguarded vulnerability and unpredictable humour – in a music workshop for alcoholics and addicts, long after he’d bid farewell to childhood dreams of pop stardom, and the ghosts and demons that accompany those dreams.

He released an album as Big Top Heartbreak, 2016’s Deadbeat Ballads, and followed it with his first album under his own name, 2019’s droll and marvellous Broke. “I was signed to a little label in Bristol, but then they went skint,” he remembers. This time, however, the disappointment didn’t shake his confidence or his resolve. “I started writing prose, like ‘flash fiction’, and I’ve begun a novel,” he says. “And I’ve started some creative writing workshops for people who’ve come out of my situation.”

Amid all this activity, the songs that became Milk City Sweethearts began to take shape. Lavene noticed the border between his prose and his songwriting beginning to become porous, and the album feels like a clutch of excellent short stories set to music. Without a label, he recorded the album at home, and assembled it in a week in his mum’s garage during lockdown’s heavy manners. It’s a warm, witty, charismatic record with a dark heart at the centre, Lavene sounding dislocated and therefore able to write his everyday stories with a left-handed brilliance and blunt honesty that keeps them so fresh, like classic Kinks, or David Bowie if he’d never had to go to space to feel otherworldly. His songs are talking blues, set to loose and minimal and excellent art-rock with a pop sensibility, the honk of Roxy sax and the guttural weird-funk of Ian Dury’s Blockheads haunting their grooves.

Have we ever needed great storytellers so badly? Voices to snap us out of our collective grey funk, to pull us out of our narrow, hemmed-in worlds and to lighten our days and enlighten us with their perspectives, Immersing us in their worldview and history. People who can make us laugh, cry, gasp or nod sagely, to see our world anew and not feel so alone. We need stories, vignettes, new windows to look out of, and narrators to help those new visions make sense.

In short, we need Scott Lavene. Born and raised in Essex, but a man of the world who has wandered far and wide, Lavene’s a storyteller who can capture all the madness, joy and frustration of life while singing about worms writhing in the ground. Lavene’s been in bands since his teens, but only really located the voice that makes his new album Milk City Sweethearts so remarkable – that combination of wry observation, humble wisdom, unguarded vulnerability and unpredictable humour – in a music workshop for alcoholics and addicts, long after he’d bid farewell to childhood dreams of pop stardom, and the ghosts and demons that accompany those dreams.

He released an album as Big Top Heartbreak, 2016’s Deadbeat Ballads, and followed it with his first album under his own name, 2019’s droll and marvellous Broke. “I was signed to a little label in Bristol, but then they went skint,” he remembers. This time, however, the disappointment didn’t shake his confidence or his resolve. “I started writing prose, like ‘flash fiction’, and I’ve begun a novel,” he says. “And I’ve started some creative writing workshops for people who’ve come out of my situation.”

Amid all this activity, the songs that became Milk City Sweethearts began to take shape. Lavene noticed the border between his prose and his songwriting beginning to become porous, and the album feels like a clutch of excellent short stories set to music. Without a label, he recorded the album at home, and assembled it in a week in his mum’s garage during lockdown’s heavy manners. It’s a warm, witty, charismatic record with a dark heart at the centre, Lavene sounding dislocated and therefore able to write his everyday stories with a left-handed brilliance and blunt honesty that keeps them so fresh, like classic Kinks, or David Bowie if he’d never had to go to space to feel otherworldly. His songs are talking blues, set to loose and minimal and excellent art-rock with a pop sensibility, the honk of Roxy sax and the guttural weird-funk of Ian Dury’s Blockheads haunting their grooves.

Their roots are firmly planted in heavy rock, melodic aggression and
despair. They have conquered the stoner rock kids and breathed fiery life
into the classic rock snobs.
Now Thulsa Doom’s branches are growing with twigs of Kiss and
Crimson; strong wooden arms hold Skynyrd, Ween and Bob Dylan, and
progressive leaves of soulful, poignant, intricate gems cover the ground.
And there are nuts, lots of nuts. ...and with the release of their new album
“Ambition Freedom” the tree itself will
stretch right in through your bedroom
window and grab you. Just like the one in
Poltergeist.
The band’s sophomore “…And Then Take
You To A Place Where Jars Are Kept”
(2003) earned them two Norwegian
Grammy nominations, and is widely recognized
as one of the best rock-releases
from Norway ever.
«A Keen Eye for the Obvious» was released
in 2018 and was instantly recognized
as the greatest comeback since
Batman.
The band that once was a cherished but
well-kept secret has now become a national
treasure because of the timeless qualities
of their albums and unforgettable live
shows. Relentlessly rehearsing and playing
shows all over Norway and for dubious but
welcoming crowds in central Europe
has once again inspired Thulsa Doom to
make new music. “Ambition Freedom”
will not harm you in any way, but it might
rearrange your heart and refurbish your
belief in Rock.
“Ambition Freedom” will confuse many,
but for others it will lead the way. You will
wish it never stops, and it doesn’t have to.
It’s a record. Spin it again

The vinyl album Deo Volente is a collection of ten tracks taken from the last four And Did Those Feet recordings (originally released between 2001 and 2018), all featuring Eisteddfod blue-ribbon-winning vocalist Ina Williams and many of which have been played on Classic FM TV, BBC Radio 2 and BBC local radio. The album cover is graced with the iconic Fred Morley photograph entitled `Business As Usual', a propaganda shot taken at the height of the German bombings of London in the Second World War. The `milkman' in the shot was in fact the photographer's assistant. Deo Volente is a unique collection of songs in a classic cover. The LP is housed in a gatefold sleeve together with an accompanying CD in a digipak attached to the inner sleeve. Full lyrics are included and each LP is signed and numbered as part of a limited edition of 500 copies.

SIM CARD HØLDER is not a band. It is the hybrid child of Ian Bruner, Drone Operatør and Gajek. It's procreation date is hard to pin down, but it started 2020 with an Insta chat and one of Ian's piano improvisations recorded in his Colorado living room. From there the album grew in separated covid lockdown wombs at three different locations in Germany. Ian's shadowy instrumentation of light piano and heavily layered and long believed to be dead soundscapes were digested, replanted and grown-over by Drone Operatør's and Gajek's uncompromising and individual sense for song structures and sounds. When finally all body parts were assembled in early 2021 the baby was already fluent in different languages.

Sim Card Hølder grows slowly while meandering through dense and open fields. It switches from calm and dreamy moods to wild fractured outbursts without fragmenting into the arbitrary. A raw spiritual power keeps every part connected and in perfect motion. Each song is a portal into multiple universes that suck you in on thick piano carpets, sharp saxophone spikes and buzzing quadcopter wings, warming insect intestines, blasting raw drums and slow healing winds, screeching synth rhymes, dissonant orchestral tales and floating blue melodies. It's a demanding ride but thoroughly deeply relaxing. The perfect soundtrack to rewind your mind.











k 11: Alone_ (rendered altitude) [feat. Drone Operatør & Ian Bruner]

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.

You have to know how to move away from the rich, strong and noisy streets, if you want to discover another Havana. A Havana far from the tourist circuits and preconceived images. A Havana where one discovers bucolic, but hard and stripped too after slow journeys in the crowded buses, a Havana with which Al Quetz maintains a passionate history since more than fourteen years.
Installed in one of those neighborhoods that can only be reached by going deeper into the alleys, from the open window of the studio comes the sound of banging drums and thumping bass. The sound reaches the streets on which the day rises.
The place wakes up in a growing tumult, with some rare engines coughing, conversations under the windows, songs of the street vendors , an urban ballet sets up as the sun darts its rays.
Far from the musical clichés with percussions and horns, Cuba is an island bombarded with influences that one discovers.
An island which vibrated for the jazz, the soul, the psychedelic rock , from the waves coming from the Caribbean to those of the bulky neighboring ogre.
A musical flowering as varied as abundant that the glorious post-revolutionary label Areito has on thousands of recordings,
and that Al Quetz has designated as the sole source of his samples to compose Habanologia.
From the ambiences that punctuate the local daily life caught by his samplers, he let the melancholy infiltrate his hip hop beats, the nostalgia melting in the depths of his grooves. Nostalgia in the Cuban air, even during moments of intense laughter, which never totally disappears.
Habanologia restores these moments when the song of the birds has extinguished those of the cars. Where, sitting on a doorstep, we comment on the life of the neighborhood, we watch the women's swaying at eye level. The whole day if necessary, the coffee at one peso, after a certain hour, which leaves its place to the Planchao rum. Wandering through its streets where a chance encounter can itself bring others and lead to the essence of the habanera life. From Regla, after a short trip on the bus-boat that crosses the bay, savor the end of the day, observe the capital from afar, let the nocturnal insects ensure some arrangements and drift towards mysterious horizons, bringing to the contemplation of the place and the moment.
A flute, a keyboard, percussions or a voice. Al Quetz also invited his friends from the island or elsewhere to decorate his productions with their live touch. To share with him this Havana for which he covered his tracks, mixed times and distorted space-time to make it timeless.
To write with Habanalogia, a declaration of love to the Cuban capital, to make Havana, His Havana.

Raised on the salted air and pebbled beaches amidst the faded seaside opulence of Brighton, Tigers & Flies spent much of their formative years building a friendship forged on a diet of the melodies and rhythms to be found deep within their parents’ wildly eclectic record collections. A worthy and noble pursuit for anyone, from those wonderfully endless hours, those bottomless cups of tea great ideas can flourish. Tigers and Flies are a great and flourishing idea.

From the bounce and sunny optimism of Orange Juice to the brutalist edge of Gang of Four. From XTC to Bacharach. Each listen offers more. A harmony appears where you’re convinced there wasn’t one before, or a rhythmic change you hadn’t noticed. A lyrical twist. Harmonies that seem to float in through an open window.

Every once in a while, a band emerges ready to take on the world. Sweden's own Knights Of The Realm bring the thunder and deliver the goods (pun intended). From the first note of the intro, to the last on the outro, they deliver their own lovingly crafted blend of classic 80's metal. Knights Of The Real is many years of heavy metal experience combined into a pure vicious heavy metal machine. Larry "The Hammer" Shield (Lars Sköld) has toured the globe and recorded with legendary band Tiamat for as long as he can remember, and is without a shadow of a doubt the band's backbone. Megalomagnus (Magnus Henriksson) has been making history with his band Eclipse since the end of the 90's and is a bonafide guitar hero, who's both capable of some heavy duty riffage as well as delivering gorgeous melodies. Mean Machine (Marcus Von Boisman) has been working in the shadows of metal for many years, and played with Swedish bands Windupdeads and Stormen. And as far as the Mean Machine goes, well, the name says it all! He delivers the soaring rock vocals we all love, with attitude and feeling. The love for classic heavy metal is the driving force behind this band. The aim from the beginning was to write heavy metal hits that should, or could, have been on the albums they grew up listening to. When the songwriting process began, it was like opening Pandora's box. The overall feeling was that those songs were calling out to be written and to be played, and the band's collective ideas, dreams and experiences merged into something new, something that can hopefully lure a new generation of rockers into that metal club we all love. Knights of the Realm is a Swedish heavy metal band, and their aim is to spread their music to as many metal heads as possible, all the while having a blast doing it. They are getting ready to go on a crusade, and to take their true place on the metal throne as Knights Of The Realm.

Recorded in Havana’s famed Egrem Studios, the group displays a cohesion forged by an intense performing and touring cycle. The musical conversation that began in the Areito studios three years earlier blossomed into an easy, intimate dialogue between good friends - allowing full, fearless musical expression and risk-taking outside of their comfort zones.

Building upon Perez Prado’s dissonant, near avant-garde vision of the mambo, and highlighting the Lucumí subtext of Cuban rhythms and styles, the band continues to explore, develop and expand the island’s rich rhythmic palette and repertoire - pushing the conventions of what is considered “mambo” - and drawing deeply from folkloric and religious traditions seldom heard in popular music. 16 Rayos is here to shine its musical rays on us, warm our hearts, and irresistibly move our bodies.

When Orquesta Akokán burst onto the global music scene a mere three years ago, their no-holds-barred 21st century take on the venerable Cuban mambo lit up stages around the world with a fierce and unremitting joy. Singer José "Pepito" Gómez, Chulo Records producer and multi instrumentalist Jacob Plasse, and arranger Michael Eckroth joined forces with a carefully curated selection of Havana’s most extraordinary musicians as Orquesta Akokán, polishing Cuban mambo’s golden sound to a luminous, contemporary sheen. Along the way Orquesta Akokán imbued these legendary Cuban grooves with a renewed vitality and powerful sense of akokán ---the Yoruba word used by Cubans to mean “from the heart” or “soul.”



On the Cuban side of the equation the Orquesta boasts some of the island’s greatest instrumentalists culled from members of near-mythical groups such as Los Van Van, NG La Banda, and Irakere (notably César Lopez, Orquesta Akokan’s point man in Havana). The ensemble for 16 Rayos shines a light on Cuba’s musical families and multigenerational legacy with the participation of two fabled Vizcainos on percussion - Roberto "Tato" Vizcaino Jr. and his father Roberto Vizcaino Guillot, a member of Chucho Valdes’ seminal 90’s quartet. Another family duo added their masterful legacy to the recording, with trumpeter Reinaldo “Molote” Melián bringing in his son, Reinaldo Melián Zamora, to play trumpet on several tunes alongside lead trumpet Harold Madrigal Frías. The winds and brass are rounded out with a rich saxophone section made up of young lion Jamil Shery and Germán Velazco (musical director for Pablo Milanés)on tenor, with Evaristo Denis on baritone and César López on alto, along with Yoandy Argudin and Heikel Fabián Trimiño on trombone. Coros were sung by Eddie Venegas and Luis Soto. Significantly, Orquesta Akokán added strings to the ensemble for the first time, with the participation of violinists Amelia Febles Díaz, Jenny Peña and Anabel Estévez Acosta, whose virtuosity stems from the classical training for which Cuban musicians are so renowned. The power and grace of Pedro "Tata" Francisco Almeida Barriel’s vocals lead the way on “4 de Octubre” and “Llegue con mi Rumba,” evincing why he is considered one of the Cuban rumba’s premier exponents. Another highly recognized singer, legendary guarachera Xiomara Valdés - who’s shared the stage with legends such as Beny Moré and Omara Portuondo and received the Ministry of Culture’s Distinción por la Cultura Nacional de Cuba as a significant contributor to Cuba’s musical legacy - is the featured guest on the title track.

Purple Vinyl

"In this album I was trying to explore the idea of pop music on PCP. PCP has fantastic lore around it and I think the most fascinating thing about it is that it seems as if many people have had these experiences where they took PCP, it presented them with an alternative reality, and they accepted it without question. It's as if that umbilical cord of knowing that you're high is cut, and the person taking it is fully immersed in the trip. Not only that but from some of the accounts, the alternate reality seems quite twisted and perverse. There are reports of people disemboweling and eating each other, or deciding that the best course of action is self-mutilation or castration, and then emerging from the trip still convinced it was the right choice. Or even the accounts of people gaining superhuman strength and fighting off 5 or 6 cops at once. It seems like there's something quite dark on the other side of that door. So for this album I tried to write what I imagine the pop music of that alternate reality might sound like. What would happen to the sugary sweet, wet dream, corporate sponsored top 40 hits, if we dipped 'em in angel dust and got "wet". What would happen if we slopped all of those fun summer hits into the meat grinder of the PCP reality tunnel, and just pushed them through. I like to imagine an intersection under an overpass in a cyberpunk dystopian future. It's midnight and you can see the neon's from the storefronts on the other side through the thick smog. A modded AE86 Corolla pulls a left turn and you can hear the music pounding from the sound system as the rubber peels underneath it. As it's drifting through the intersection, smoke pouring out of the tiny gap at the top of the tinted windows, the music pours out of the car like a thick syrup, engulfing us as we stand frozen for a moment as they pass. This is what they were playing."

"Free Jazz " - Ornette Coleman (as); Eric Dolphy (b-cl); Don Cherry, Freddie Hubbard (tp); Charlie Haden, Scott LaFaro (b); Billy Higgins, Ed Blackwell (dr)

The term 'free jazz' was already inexistence – but it had a quite different meaning, namely jazz without paying for an entrance ticket. The album "Free Jazz", however, was intended to lend its name to a quite different style of jazz. 'Free' playing – now this meant that no one was bound to conventions, you could let your imagination run loose. Free jazz gave one the chance to find new rules for every new composition. And it was to be the greatest boost to innovation in the world of jazz. Ornette Coleman’s album from December 1960 stands at the beginning of the free jazz era like a massive portal. Coleman thought big: he brought two quartets into the studio at the same time, both with two wind instruments and no piano, and let them play together for 36 minutes without a break – a collective improvisation. There aren’t any precise themes, although short, fanfare-like motifs do exist in which the winds come together. A continuousdense rhythmic beat underlies the music almost throughout – and the pulse is felt rather than heard. One musician after the other comes into the foreground to improvise, almost like at a jam session. First Coleman, then Dolphy, then the two trumpeters. The other winds, however, never remain silent, then make comments and support one another continually – the energy level is immense the whole time (it was cold in the studio ...). Only when it is the turn of the bass and drum players do the winds remain silent for about eleven minutes. This album is not only a historic caesura, but a truly great experience over andover again.

This Speakers Corner LP was remastered using pure analogue components only, from the master tapes through to the cutting head. More information under pure-analogue

All royalties and mechanical rights have been paid.

Recording: December 1961 in A&RStudios, New York City, by Tom Dowd

Production: Nesuhi Ertegun