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Founded in 1966, The Beachers is a group whose music is inspired by Caribbean rhythms and Panama’s musical tradition. Calypso, salsa and bolero are part of the unique Beachers sound, whose popularity peaked in the 70s during what is known as “The Golden Era of National Combos”. The Beachers have released 13 albums and more than 30 singles to their name, on prestigious Panamanian record labels like Tamayo, Loyola, or Sally Ruth Records, teaming up with other Calypso legends such as Lord Cobra.

The Beachers are still current and relevant, with five of the original members performing constantly through Panama and the world. Their energy and spirit is felt in the joy, rhythm and flavor of their songs.
Lloyd Gallimore, the band’s musical director since its foundation, and renowned producer Billy Herron have been working together on this new album, commemorating the group’s 50-year career.

This recording relives The Beachers’s magical trajectory and features collaborations with popular Panamanian musicians, a work that displays a sonic landscape filled with the history and legacy of Panama’s Calypso. It’s a tropical musical fantasy whose Caribbean influence has transcended time.

“The hand knows best,” the painter Margaux Williamson says. “A shape produces itself, where I go toward what is intuitive, rather than logical.” The shapely, intuitive songs that comprise Ada Lea's third album, when i paint my masterpiece, are surprising, imagistic, tactile. They stand before us and we feel their brushstrokes. Alexandra Levy holds her guitar against the backdrop of a sea of her paintings on the album cover and it’s tempting to ask: is painting a metaphor here, for music or life? No! As ever, she resists tidy metaphors. She’s a master of this kind of thorny lowercase title that germinates and grows with time. In a real, profound way, music and painting go hand-in-hand as she unveils a new style of subversion and surrealism inspired by her transdisciplinarity.

Levy is a Renaissance woman, and Ada Lea’s albums have been swelling in scope alongside the evolution of her artistic life. Her recent turn toward pedagogy—teaching a songwriting course at Concordia University and co-facilitating a community-based group called The Songwriting Method—weaves another vivid thread into her multifaceted practice. Her debut LP, what we say in private, blurred the lines between interior and performative worlds. Her sophomore record, one hand on the steering wheel the other sewing a garden, featured vignettes centered on Montreal. On this sprawling and ambitious album, written over three years and whittled down from over 200 songs, she asks: what happens when you… pause? How can a life be held suspended in song? The album is a kaleidoscopic exploration of the transformations art can bring: the vision of an uncompromising artist dancing bravely and freely between registers and across mediums.

The album marks a reset—a quiet revolution. After years of relentless international touring, Levy felt an urgent need for community and renewal. Gruelling road schedules with very little support left her wondering: who am I really doing all this for? The system was uncaring and broken, and so it was that she came to envision a new healthy and healing mode of musical genesis. “For me, that looked like resting, extending my creative reach, going back to school, studying painting and poetry,” she explains. “Taking a step away from music as guided by industry expectations. Simplifying things. Getting a job, starting to teach. Engaging with the process rather than the product.” This need for a more deliberate creative renewal was rejected by her existing systems of support, so she began the search for an alternative.

It’s very difficult to describe someone as prolific as Misha Panfilov. So, I feel the best way to define him is to think of a “Trivial Pursuit Playing Piece,” where each pie piece represents one of the bands he heads up, and each band has its own distinct style and genre. Yet, when looked at all together, create the whole musical persona of Misha. This is the lens I would like to view his latest endeavor, Days As Echoes.

The vibe on this sophomore release channels Krautrock philosophy and Library music, peppered with elements of jazz, Ethiopian, cinema, ambient and bits of everything between. This atmosphere is created from all the instruments Misha uses and the resulting compositions are heard as repetitive patterns that are forged from the multiple layering of melodies. Thus, creating six unique songs with emotional granularity, yet collectively encompass a genuinely positive “feel good” vibe…with a hint of nostalgia.

Moods of the day, moods like echoes say, A future of hope is yours, by following the Sun’s ray.

The opening track, “Days As Echoes,” is a dedication to a much simpler time when the sky was bluer and the snow was whiter…just like how you remember it when you were a child. A time when people honestly cared more about everything as a given, and not as a selfish accolade. A time when optimism seemed within reach. In other words, nostalgia marred by awareness.

…Leading to a path where the skies are not gray. Where dreams of castles in the air are the mainstay.

“In A Dream” has a style that pays homage to both spiritual jazz and ambient music. A simple theme is introduced and leads to the climax of this stormy dream, putting it all in perspective. That pivotal point when one realizes the truth by re-tracing the events, which led to the epiphany of how to find the answer while traveling within this airy soundscape.

…Diurnal or nocturnal, day or night, Traveling the path of truth must be done without fright.

One can’t help but feel a definite traveling vibe that comes from “Moonscape Waltz” To me, it has a dual-characteristic that can be visualized as a train trip, either at sunrise or sunset. Regardless, the time is not of major relevance, but the actual pursuit is. Lao Tzu said, “The journey of a thousand miles begins with that first step.” This track takes you beyond that initial step into this vast world toward your destination as you search for the truth.

…The unknown is real, but you know the deal. People need people to show which direction you point the wheel.

“Together” is the most peaceful and solo oriented compositions of this album. It shows how one cannot achieve happiness alone, but the importance of having someone special or a group of others to help along the way. Not only to help seek your goal, but also the ability to enjoy the scenery while on your journey

…The end of this tunnel has a light that’s so bright. Illuminating the trodden way, your destination, now in sight.

One is free from the chains of the unknown as you listen to a “Few Layers For Smith”, a dedication to a friend. A song that draws energy from the ECM works of Steve Reich, thats married with a primitive lo-fi basement setting. Its positive force breaks those encumbrances and gives you a glimpse of your prize. But you ruminate on this and come to the conclusion that the path that led you there is equally important as the goal itself. Question is, how do you share your realizations and experiences?

…The route was cast, the trials have passed. The glittering treasure you sought is yours now, at last.

“Ocean Song” meanders from the ritual rhythms of its shoreline to the crashing riptides of unbridled guitar feedback, creating this raging ocean atmosphere. However, its message is quite clear and states that people’s goals and experiences are not just meant for personal growth, but to be shared with
others, so that they too can live vicariously thru your story and somehow utilize it for their own.

…The prize has been won, but the journey is never done. You now have the responsibility to share everything under the Sun.

These six songs, each with its own sound, collectively comprise the vibe of this album. One cannot help but feel a sense of joy and fulfillment when listening to it. Each song has its own unique mood, yet together create an atmosphere of hope and happiness that has no choice but to spill out of the listener. I feel this was the ultimate goal of Misha’s on this record. Quite a challenge for the man who never sleeps, but is always searching for the perfect beat. One may not fully grasp his musical mind, but this album does give you a gateway into the moods and magic of Misha!

- Brent Sawicki

Tough Love brings to vinyl for the first time April Magazine's Sunday Music For An Overpass, a nine track collection originally issued on cassette in vanishingly small number by Paisley Shirt in 2021. The kind of mythical recording you might have once needed to know the band to own. Alas, no longer... Can the universe have two centres? Because if it's not Gothenburg it's San Francisco... It's impossible for me to think about what's going on in that particular part of the west coast right now without immediately being drawn to April Magazine, a comparatively loosely assembled three (sometimes four) piece centred around artist/musician Peter Hurley, who seem to simultaneously operate at both the heart and the margins of the current Bay Area underground. On the one hand they share members with many other bands, their guitarist/singer runs a gallery that functions as some kind of focal point/social space, and Cindy even have a song named after them. On the other hand, their music is resolutely lo-fi and invariably couched in a mysterious haze, the live footage available online seems to suggest that they sound slightly different each time they play, and there are reports they have dozens of songs (possibly albums?) that have not and may never be released, hidden inside their own private universe. On its initial release, Sunday Music For An Overpass was an early attempt to drag the group a little closer into the light, yet inevitably made them feel as endearingly enigmatic as ever. Typically, this vinyl reissue some four years later only goes part way in clearing that alluring fog. April Magazine channel the greats - Spacemen 3, The Pastels, early B&S, Mary Chain, Rainy Day/Opal/Mazzy et al - but submerge their obvious melodic capabilities within seemingly infinite spray can hiss, as if the songs are being pulled backwards through some vortex to the past. Half of these tracks are instrumentals, and it's in those moments that the band are perhaps at their most expressive, suggesting a very inviting melancholy that can't quite be figured out. Though the LP remasters the original recordings and is a little cleaner sounding as a result, no secret is being given away. The appeal is that the more you hear from them, the less you really know, and all the better for it. Maybe, then, it's that April Magazine are here to show there is no centre to the universe, that instead it's always just off to the side...

The extroverted blend of attitude, energy, and ostentatiousness that spills from the New York Dolls’ self-titled debut can be seen in full view on the album cover. Depicting the quintet in its hallmark flash-and-trash apparel and in drag appearance, the 1973 album scared away a considerable amount of potential listeners while capturing the attention of a sizable audience that recognized the band for what it was: zeitgeist pioneers who helped develop the punk and glam rock movements.

Named by Rolling Stone the 301st Greatest Album of All Time and by Mojo the 49th greatest album of all time, New York Dolls receives long-overdue audiophile treatment on Mobile Fidelity’s numbered-edition 180g 45RPM 2LP set. Sourced from the original master tapes, pressed at Fidelity Record Pressing in California, and housed in a Stoughton gatefold jacket, this collectible version marks the first time the group’s career-making statement is available to be experienced in audiophile quality.

Far from harboring the crude elements that became associated with the punk scene, New York Dolls benefits from keen production overseen by none other than Todd Rundgren. Though more accustomed to working far higher-caliber musicians, Rundgren — taken by the New York Dolls’ charisma and cool, if not their instrumental approach — fully understood the ensemble’s aesthetic. He captured what went down at New York City’s Record Plant with an astute blend of live-on-the-floor feel, raw authenticity, and professional acumen.

On Mobile Fidelity’s definitive-sounding reissue, you can hear those facets as well as key details, dynamics, and textures with previously unimaginable insight. Rundgren preserved generous degrees of grit, grime, and grease while bestowing the raucous music with elevated levels of separation, solidity, and impact every landmark recording deserves. His vision extends to introducing choice accents — barroom piano notes, Moog synthesizer passages, Buddy Bowser’s honking saxophones — that add to the songs’ appeal without interfering with the primary architecture.

Afforded extra groove space on this pressing, the tenor, presentation, and attack of both vocalist David Johansen and now-iconic guitarists Johnny Thunders and Sylvain Sylvain come across with stunning vibrancy and vitality. The New York Dolls often seem headed off the rails and into the red, but somehow, the strut, swagger, and sloppiness — and the associated sleaze and scruff, scrape and snarl, frenzy and feverishness those characteristics entail — remain together as a whole that shakes its collective fist at the frustrations, isolation, disarray, and disillusionment of youth chaos and urban decay.

Kicking off its debut with “Personality Crisis,” cited by Rolling Stone as one of the 500 Greatest Songs of All Time, the band makes obvious its grasp of alienation, deviance, displacement, and suburban disaffection — as well as its capacity to play hanging-by-a-thread boogie, noisy rock ‘n’ roll, and Brill Building-inspired pop. The lipstick-kissed New York Dolls possesses traits many of its harsher predecessors would overlook: joyfulness and melody, topped with a knack for knowing how and where to take a song inside of three-and-a-half minutes.

Dive and dash with the belligerent “Looking for a Kiss”; stomp your feet and clap your hands to the big choruses of “Jet Boy”; surrender to the demands and provocations of the coded “Vietnamese Baby”; decide whether “Bad Girl” yearns to explode or implode. It’s one of several tunes here that allude to the world coming to end. Of course, that doesn’t mean there isn’t time for a fling before everything burns. “There’s no place I gotta go,” yowls Johansen. And he means it.

Adorned with tonal crunch, glitter, and gristle, New York Dolls takes pride in its brashness and brattiness. The rambunctious effort, which earned the band the distinction of being voted both “Best New Group of the Year” and “Worst New Group of the Year” in the pages of Creem, displays knowing reverence for the blues without calling attention to the style. The folk-laden “Lonely Planet Boy” is nothing if not a collision of heart-on-the-sleeve emotions and the desire in the face of challenges to maintain a tough-skinned exterior. An interpretation of Bo Diddley’s “Pills,” complete with shivering harmonica and clattering rhythms, announces there’s no cure for what infects this band. It’s that contagious. And how.

His deliveries gushing with campy fun, playful irreverence, and sheer decadence, Johansen doubles as the equivalent of an open fire hydrant that spouts at will. He’s at once tender and vicious, serious and tongue-in-cheek. On arguably his finest hour on the album, Johansen’s phrasing, passion, and lyrical ambiguity alone turn “Trash” into an insistent glam-rock gem whose echoing harmonies and girl-group references stamp it a pop classic.

Too much, too soon? Only for those averse to some of the finest rock ‘n’ roll ever put on tape.

Experience the Double-Platinum 1996 Album in Audiophile Sound for the First Time
Mobile Fidelity’s Numbered-Edition 180g 45RPM 2LP Set Is Sourced from the Original Analogue Tapes
1/2” / 30 IPS analogue master to DSD 256 to analogue console to lathe

If great art, as many believe, is inherently polarizing, then the Stone Temple Pilots’ Tiny Music… Songs from the Vatican Gift Shop easily ranks as the California-based band’s finest album. Simultaneously celebrated and castigated upon release in spring 1996, the group’s third full-length finds vocalist Scott Weiland and company expanding their “grunge” palette with a smart blend of glam rock, psychedelia, jangle pop, and other related styles. Having benefited from long-view reassessments that shed the biases and meanness of initial criticisms, the double-platinum effort is now largely and rightly seen as a creative masterwork. All the more reason why it deserves reference-grade production.

Overseen by producer Brendan O’Brien, Stone Temple Pilots used bedrooms, hallways, bathrooms, and the lawn to capture a broad blend of textures, spaciousness, and ambience that helped underline the group’s obvious (and somewhat unexpected) leap from normal “alternative” status to an artist whose aspirations went beyond that of many of its contemporaries. You can hear the multitude of details and tonalities with previously unattained clarity, presence, and scope on this fantastic reissue, which also delivers the impact and punch every rock record deserves. Another tremendous asset: The depth, grain, and pitch of Weiland’s voice.

For all the contagious choruses and glossy melodies that help make Tiny Music… Songs from the Vatican Gift Shop sparkle, the vocal performances of the late singer arguably rank as the best that the much-missed Weiland committed to tape. None other than the Smashing Pumpkins’ Billy Corgan — who, like many peers and critics, felt a pressing need to reevaluate the record as both time marched on and the self-importance attached to the “alternative” scene faded — praised Weiland’s efforts by noting: “Like Bowie can and does, it was Scott's phrasing that pushed his music into a unique, and hard to pin down, aesthetic sonicsphere.”

Smooth and diverse, those traits are everywhere on Tiny Music… Songs from the Vatican Gift Shop. From the clever combination of emotional closeness and distance he brings to the catchy albeit ultimately melancholic “Lady Picture Show”; to the lounge-fly balladeering that causes “And So I Know” to lightly swing akin to a bleary-eyed house band’s final number at a 4 A.M. bar; to the effortless cool and laissez-faire casualness he articulates on the grinding “Pop’s Love Suicide”; to the dimensional raspiness, defiant energy, and let-loose wail that sail through the crunchy “Big Bang Baby.”

The latter tune, the record’s first single and per Weiland a conscious attempt by the band to deconstruct its prior approaches, clearly borrows from the Rolling Stones’ “Jumpin’ Jack Flash.” Because of it, the song drew all kinds of barbs from naysayers. Their disdain extended to most material on Tiny Music… Songs from the Vatican Gift Shop, which indirectly references other prized acts such as the Beatles, Cheap Trick, T. Rex, and Lush. Those cynics failed to grasp that Stone Temple Pilots were paying homage and having a blast, with even Weiland, then battling serious substance-abuse and legal issues, getting in on the action.

Stone Temple Pilots’ skeptics also turned a deaf ear to the records’ stellar pop craftsmanship, sticky hooks, and sly commentary on music-industry machinations and fame. Not to mention the band’s intent, made clear from the outset. In an interview conducted in 1994, guitarist Robert DeLeo stated: “The last thing I wanted to do with this band was make everybody believe we invented something.”

Seen through that lens and the hindsight afforded history, and appreciated independent of the self-righteous authenticity standards of the day, Tiny Music… Songs from the Vatican Gift Shop sounds borderline fearless while authoritatively checking all the right boxes for fun, flavor, and finesse. Part winking send-up, part tribute to the glitter rock age, and part middle finger towards the hip crowd that didn’t know what they were missing, this mid-90s classic repeatedly invites you to drop the needle and press play.

For our 100th Eccentric Soul 45, Numero returns to our Ohio roots with three replica 45s from the Capsoul universe. Marion Black’s timeless two-sider “Who Knows” b/w “Go On Fool” made a few blipsupon its 1970 release, but has taken on a life of its own soundtracking prestige TV and car commercials around the globe and finally going gold after 65 years. We discovered Ron Harrington’s “Because You’re Mine” demo amongst the Capsoul tapes, a demo cut for founder Bill Moss that never escaped greater Columbus. The mid-tempo harmony joint “It Happened To Me Again” adorns the flip, with a lo-fi funk backbeat tossed in for good measure. Capsoul’s crown jewel group harmony quartet Johnson, Hawkins, Tatum & Durr cut just two records in their short time together, but the quartet’s “You Can’t Blame Me” has endured as a classic example of the raw and unhinged soul sound that Numero is known for. Eccentric Soul from the heart of it all.

For our 100th Eccentric Soul 45, Numero returns to our Ohio roots with three replica 45s from the Capsoul universe. Marion Black’s timeless two-sider “Who Knows” b/w “Go On Fool” made a few blipsupon its 1970 release, but has taken on a life of its own soundtracking prestige TV and car commercials around the globe and finally going gold after 65 years. We discovered Ron Harrington’s “Because You’re Mine” demo amongst the Capsoul tapes, a demo cut for founder Bill Moss that never escaped greater Columbus. The mid-tempo harmony joint “It Happened To Me Again” adorns the flip, with a lo-fi funk backbeat tossed in for good measure. Capsoul’s crown jewel group harmony quartet Johnson, Hawkins, Tatum & Durr cut just two records in their short time together, but the quartet’s “You Can’t Blame Me” has endured as a classic example of the raw and unhinged soul sound that Numero is known for. Eccentric Soul from the heart of it all.

Released for the first time on vinyl - 2002's Can You Do Me Good? saw Del Amitri return after a 48 month hiatus with a new sound and a remarkable, yet almost entirely overlooked album - For the album's debut on LP it has been pressed on high quality 180g vinyl and includes a full-colour 16 page lyric booklet. By 2002, the pop world had turned; four years earlier, Del Amitri had released Hatful Of Rain, their greatest hits collection marking more-or-less a decade of success. Can You Do Me Good? relied on keyboards, samples and drum machines as much as previous albums centered on electric and acoustic guitars. Featuring its soulful lead single Just Before You Leave, Can You Do Me Good? is truly fascinating, and could well have been the groups biggest album ever had it come five years earlier. Ive got cash and prizes, but I don’t know who I am, Currie sings on Cash & Prizes; and the song seems to encapsulate the album.

"World of Pooh immensely brightened the dark corners of San Francisco, California during the years 1983-1990, with their most recognized guise being the MMF trio that existed & thrived during the years 1986-1990. This is the lineup you’ll hear documented on this exceptional collection of 45s, compilation tracks and assorted ephemera. The band has ranged from being a footnote for some (“is that the band Barbara Manning was once in?”) to a fondly-regarded memory for others (“the Land of Thirst album is a forgotten classic”) to a turnstile, door-opening band for still others — like me. They arrived in my life as they were slowly exiting theirs, and I eagerly attended a half-dozen shows of theirs circa 1989-90 around San Francisco moments after I moved there. They were instantly my favorite local band, one I was instantly duty-bound to see whenever & wherever they played. Their jagged and discombobulated take on underground pop music was exceptionally fertile, feral and fetching, and it served as a personal gateway drug that flowered my own appreciation for many different kinds of subtle musical tension.
I also spent at least five glorious years watching Jay Paget, who drummed for World of Pooh and later the Thinking Fellers Union Local 282, ply his rhythmic trade with much aplomb. He was always a steady hand behind the musical wheel of innovative bands who often threatened to careen off course. And I’ll admit to an untoward admiration of (and fascination with) World of Pooh founder, guitarist and singer Brandan Kearney from the moment I met the guy. Not only was he exceptionally friendly and welcoming to a carpetbagging interloper quickly trying to horn in on his scene (me), he was at once one of the most quick-witted, self-deprecating, highly intelligent & musically conversant people I’d ever met. Everything he and his band were doing, along with the mind-boggling DIY gunk he was pushing through his record label, Nuf Sed, and via his multiple other bands (among them: Caroliner & Archipelago Brewing Company, with several more to follow), made me extremely curious and not a tiny bit jealous about these wiser, weirder and musically more daring freaks who were making art, love & war in the relatively grittier & non-gentrified San Francisco of the day.
What I’ve learned in the 35 years since the band broke up is just how highly regarded they were (and remain) by not only those who saw them, but by a now-considerably larger group of humans who’ve subsequently heard & loved their records. I know that their place in the late 1980s was a small but special one, and I’ve seen plenty of online clamoring for more, more, more about this ephemeral and poorly-documented band. And rightly, here it is, lovingly assembled: their two hard-to-come-by 45s, a handful of comp tracks, and a quartet of phenomenal songs just coming to light for the first time, including that Half Japanese cover that dimly existed in my memory as a live song they naturally pulled off with sangfroid, from a time and space when we were all a little younger. - Jay Hinman"

"Three years ago, Jérôme Leclercq and I from Mediatoon Licensing came up with the idea of creating a cinema concert to celebrate the 20th anniversary of Naruto. Why a cinema concert? The music is part of the success of the licence and fans have a particular attachment to the credits and the original soundtracks. The originality of the music by Toshio Masuda, the composer of Naruto, comes from the clever mix of traditional Japanese instruments, such as the Shakuhachi or the Shamisen, with guitar and other pop/rock instruments. So we came up with the idea of bringing this music to the stage with a 50-strong orchestra, accompanied by an original montage of the best moments from the anime. This orchestra is made up of three parts: symphonic instruments, pop/rock instruments and traditional instruments.

To do this, we approached the ODINO orchestra and its conductor Sylvain Audinovski. The ODINO orchestra is one of those capable of mixing musical styles while maintaining a very high level of performance. We have also chosen traditional Japanese instrumentalists to complete the orchestra's core, especially for the show.

The arrangements and musical direction are the fruit of a collaboration between Quentin Benayoun, Sébastien Caviggia and myself. My two accomplices, with whom I formed the group P.U.S.S. in 2007, have a great mastery of rock and orchestral music writing. This mix is essential to keep the promise made to the fans of the series and required several months' work to select the music and write the scores for the whole orchestra.

How do you tell the story of Naruto to fans, but also to those who don't know the anime? That's the real challenge of this unique film-concert. How do you select the best moments in the story of this young ninja apprentice from the vastness of the first 220 episodes? Six months of selection and research enabled me to choose the key images in the narrative, while preserving certain dialectics to match the anime's incredible music.

This original film-concert, lasting almost 2? hours, is a real Rock-Symphonic show paying tribute to the work of Masashi Kashimoto and the music of Toshio Masuda."

“Extremely highhgrade psych” (MOJO, 2024) “Immaculate sounding new psychedelia“ (Maggot Brain, 2024) “Alexander succeeds in capturing the post-psych grandeur that he’s aiming for while also creating one of his headiest offerings yet” (Raven Sings The Blues) “Psych lifer in a bloozy Americana mode. The whole thing hangs loose like a frayed rope tied to a river tube… essentially, a choogler’s dream.” (Viking’s Choice / NPR Music) “Plug in and space your face” (Aquarium Drunkard) Originally on Tape via Arrowhawk (please go check more releases on this wonderful label) - Now on Vinyl Presented in a high gloss laminated outer sleeve with artwork by Jake Blanchard - Both sets of art joining together to complete the picture. 36 minutes of sonic bliss for your ears and brain. Side 1 - Dark Star Side 2 - Dark Star (continued) "Jeffrey Alexander is a lifer. He has been flirting around the underground for the past thirty years - starting in Baltimore in the mid-90s and later percolating in Providence, Pittsburgh, San Francisco and, now, Philadelphia. Throughout this span, he has run various record labels, worked in a bunch of record shops, organized music festivals, managed live venues, FM deejayed, jammed econo, booked endless tours and performed in a gaggle of groups from Black Forest / Black Sea to Dire Wolves to Jackie-O Motherfucker to The Iditarod and points in-between. And now we have The Heavy Lidders. Jeffrey Alexander + The Heavy Lidders takes the freaked improvisation of Alexander’s instrumental band - DWLVS / Dire Wolves Just Exactly Perfect Sisters Band - into the world of song. Heady songwriting, ethereal jazz and Trad Gras-y blues stomps all feature. Backed by members of Elkhorn and Kohoutek. This vinyl (in 2 volumes) you hold in your hands is a collection of live Lidders that will surely wax your stem, and how! When Record Crates United invited JA+THL to perform at their inaugural garden party, not only did the Lidders show up with a one-off Live/Dead cover as a surprise gift for Keith and Sarah, but they rolled in with the Jesse Sheppard mobile multi-track truck, as well. Fucking pros, mate. Most of the material here was captured that sunny afternoon in suburban New Jersey - and thank the Godz that we have this plastic burner. I missed the set, but Kenneth Higney was there and gave it two thumbs up! I know them Lidders have a deluxe studio LP lined up for September, but til then, this little box will comfortably help you break on through. But don’t be fooled into thinking this is a mere EP. It’s SEVENTY SIX minutes of pure medicated goo. Now dose your capstan and pinch your roller. Shit is about to get Lidded." - Glen Burnout (on Sun Ra’s arrival day 2023)

VERY LIMITED 2025 REPRESS ON BEAM OF LIGHT VINYL .

Everything changed for The Beths when they released their debut album, Future Me Hates Me, in 2018. The indie rock band had long been nurtured within Auckland, New Zealand’s tight-knit music scene, working full-time during the day and playing music with friends after hours. Full of uptempo pop rock songs with bright, indelible hooks, the LP garnered them critical acclaim from outlets like Pitchfork and Rolling Stone, and they set out for their first string of shows overseas. They quit their jobs, said goodbye to their home town, and devoted themselves entirely to performing across North America and Europe. They found themselves playing to crowds of devoted fans and opening for acts like Pixies and Death Cab for Cutie. Almost instantly, The Beths turned from a passion project into a full-time career in music.

Songwriter and lead vocalist Elizabeth Stokes worked on what would become The Beths’ second LP, Jump Rope Gazers, in between these intense periods of touring. Like the group’s earlier music, the album tackles themes of anxiety and self-doubt with effervescent power pop choruses and rousing backup vocals, zeroing in on the communality and catharsis that can come from sharing stressful situations with some of your best friends. Stokes’s writing on Jump Rope Gazers grapples with the uneasy proposition of leaving everything and everyone you know behind on another continent, chasing your dreams while struggling to stay close with loved ones back home.

"If you're at a certain age, all your friends scatter to the four winds,” Stokes says. “We did the same thing. When you're home, you miss everybody, and when you're away, you miss everybody. We were just missing people all the time.”

With songs like the rambunctious “Dying To Believe” and the tender, shoegazey “Out of Sight,” The Beths reckon with the distance that life necessarily drives between people over time. People who love each other inevitably fail each other. “I’m sorry for the way that I can’t hold conversations/They’re such a fragile thing to try to support the weight of,” Stokes sings on “Dying to Believe.” The best way to repair that failure, in The Beths’ view, is with abundant and unconditional love, no matter how far it has to travel. On “Out of Sight,” she pledges devotion to a dearly missed friend: “If your world collapses/I’ll be down in the rubble/I’d build you another,” she sings.

“It was a rough year in general, and I found myself saying the words, 'wish you were here, wish I was there,’ over and over again,” she says of the time period in which the album was written. Touring far from home, The Beths committed themselves to taking care of each other as they were trying at the same time to take care of friends living thousands of miles away. They encouraged each other to communicate whenever things got hard, and to pay forward acts of kindness whenever they could. That care and attention shines through on Jump Rope Gazers, where the quartet sounds more locked in than ever. Their most emotive and heartfelt work to date, Jump Rope Gazers stares down all the hard parts of living in communion with other people, even at a distance, while celebrating the ferocious joy that makes it all worth it -- a sentiment we need now more than ever.

The first and most independent of all independent producers, Joe Meek needs little introduction. He was the first to chart in both the UK and the USA with an independently produced song -which was actually recorded in his home’s kitchen- when The Tornados' Telstar took the world in 1962. Meek was, of course, one of the most in vogue producers of the first half of the 1960s, providing the soundtrack to the evolution of UK Rock’n'Roll to Swinging London, scoring hits with actors like John Leyton (Johnny Remember Me), showmen like Screaming Lord Sutch and bands like The Outlaws and The Tornados. He also produced a wide stream of R&B and freakbeat 45s that are nowadays hardly sought after by the collectors with the biggest bank accounts.

Joe Meek experimented with all kinds of recording techniques in his home studio, his tricks and gimmicks won his productions chart placement and critical and public acclaim, but none of his projects was so advanced and way out as the avantgarde experimentation showed in his I Hear a New World electronic symphony from 1960. Aided by The Blue Men formed by Rod Freeman (group leader, guitar, vocals), Ken Harvey (tenor sax, vocals), Roger Fiola (Hawaiian Guitar), Chris White (guitar), Doug Collins (bass), Dave Golding (drums) -also known as Rodd-Ken and The Cavaliers- who provided a tight base to his electronically produced sounds, Meek came up with what he envisioned as the soundtrack of the future, the sounds he envisioned were to be heard in outer space. It was too way out for its time, certainly. To the point that of all the opus, only four tracks saw the light of day on a 7" EP released on Triumph, Meeks very own label. It wouldn’t be until 1991 that the whole recordings from the I Hear a New World sessions would see the light of day on a CD issued by the RPM label.

Wah Wah offers a new reissue of this now classic early electronics masterpiece, housed in a beautiful front-laminated back-flapped sleeve and offered as a limited 400 copies only black vinyl version and an ultra-limited 100 copies only transparent purple vinyl. Get yours before they fly!

RIYL : Delia Derbyshire and The BBC Radiophonic Workshop, Louis and Bebe Barron’s soundtrack to Forbidden Planet, Raymond Scott, Tom Dissevelt & Kid Baltan, Morton Subotnick…

The first and most independent of all independent producers, Joe Meek needs little introduction. He was the first to chart in both the UK and the USA with an independently produced song -which was actually recorded in his home’s kitchen- when The Tornados' Telstar took the world in 1962. Meek was, of course, one of the most in vogue producers of the first half of the 1960s, providing the soundtrack to the evolution of UK Rock’n'Roll to Swinging London, scoring hits with actors like John Leyton (Johnny Remember Me), showmen like Screaming Lord Sutch and bands like The Outlaws and The Tornados. He also produced a wide stream of R&B and freakbeat 45s that are nowadays hardly sought after by the collectors with the biggest bank accounts.

Joe Meek experimented with all kinds of recording techniques in his home studio, his tricks and gimmicks won his productions chart placement and critical and public acclaim, but none of his projects was so advanced and way out as the avantgarde experimentation showed in his I Hear a New World electronic symphony from 1960. Aided by The Blue Men formed by Rod Freeman (group leader, guitar, vocals), Ken Harvey (tenor sax, vocals), Roger Fiola (Hawaiian Guitar), Chris White (guitar), Doug Collins (bass), Dave Golding (drums) -also known as Rodd-Ken and The Cavaliers- who provided a tight base to his electronically produced sounds, Meek came up with what he envisioned as the soundtrack of the future, the sounds he envisioned were to be heard in outer space. It was too way out for its time, certainly. To the point that of all the opus, only four tracks saw the light of day on a 7" EP released on Triumph, Meeks very own label. It wouldn’t be until 1991 that the whole recordings from the I Hear a New World sessions would see the light of day on a CD issued by the RPM label.

Wah Wah offers a new reissue of this now classic early electronics masterpiece, housed in a beautiful front-laminated back-flapped sleeve and offered as a limited 400 copies only black vinyl version and an ultra-limited 100 copies only transparent purple vinyl. Get yours before they fly!

RIYL : Delia Derbyshire and The BBC Radiophonic Workshop, Louis and Bebe Barron’s soundtrack to Forbidden Planet, Raymond Scott, Tom Dissevelt & Kid Baltan, Morton Subotnick…

Khadim is a stunning reconfiguration of the Ndagga Rhythm Force sound. The instrumentation is radically pared down. The guitar is gone; the concatenation of sabars; the drum-kit. Each of the four tracks hones in on just one or two drummers; otherwise the sole recorded element is the singing; everything else is programmed. Synths are dialogically locked into the drumming. Tellingly, Ernestus has reached for his beloved Prophet-5, a signature go-to since Basic Channel days, thirty years ago. Texturally, the sound is more dubwise; prickling with effects. There is a new spaciousness, announced at the start by the ambient sounds of Dakar street-life. At the microphone, Mbene Diatta Seck revels in this new openness: mbalax diva, she feelingly turns each of the four songs into a discrete dramatic episode, using different sets of rhetorical techniques. The music throughout is taut, grooving, complex, like before; but more volatile, intuitive and reaching, with turbulent emotional and spiritual expressivity.

Not that Khadim represents any kind of break. Its transformativeness is rooted in the hundreds upon hundreds of hours the Rhythm Force has played together. Nearly a decade has passed since Yermande, the unit's previous album. Every year throughout that period — barring lockdowns — the group has toured extensively, in Europe, the US, and Japan. With improvisation at the core of its music-making, each performance has been evolutionary, as it turns out heading towards Khadim. “I didn’t want to simply continue with the same formula," says Ernestus. “I preferred to wait for a new approach. Playing live so many times, I wanted to capture some of the energy and freedom of those performances.” Though several members of the touring ensemble sit out this recording — sabar drummers, kit-drummer, synth-player — their presence abides in the structure and swing of the music here.

Lamp Fall is a homage to Cheikh Ibra Fall, founder of the Baye Fall spiritual community. The mosque in the city of Touba is known as Lamp Fall, because the main tower resembles a lantern. Soy duggu Touba, moom guey séen / When you enter Touba, he is the one who greets you. After a swift, incantatory start Mbene sings with reflective seriousness. Her voice swirls with reverb, over a tight, funky, propulsive interplay between synth and drums, threaded with one-two jabs of bass. Cheikh Ibra Fall mi may way, mo diayndiou ré, la mu jëndé ko taalibe... Cheikh Ibra Fall amo morome, aboridial / Cheikh Ibra Fall shows the way forward, he gives us strength, he gathers his disciples... Overflowing with grace, Cheikh Ibra Fall has no equal.

Interwoven with Wolof proverbs, Dieuw Bakhul is a recriminatory song about treachery, lies, and back-biting. Over moody, roiling synths and ominous, lean bass, Mbene throws out fluttering scraps of vocal, as if re-running old conversations in her head. The music shadows her despair to the verge of breakdown, at one moment seemingly so lost in thought and memories, that it threatens to disintegrate. Bayilene di wor seen xarit ak seen an da ndo... Dieuw bakhul, dieuw ñaw na / Stop judging your friends and companions... A lie is no good, a lie is ugly.

Khadim is a show-stopper; currently the centrepiece of Ndagga Rhythm Force live performances. The song is dedicated to Cheikh Ahmadou Bamba, aka Khadim, founder of the Mouride Sufi order. Serigne Bamba mi may wayeu / Serigne Bamba is the one who makes me sing. The verses name-check revered members of his family and brotherhood, like Sokhna Diarra, Mame Thierno, and Serigne Bara. Though Islam has been practised in Senegal for a millennium, it wasn’t until the start of the twentieth century that it began to thoroughly permeate ordinary Senegalese society, hand-in-hand with anti-colonialism. The verses here recall Bamba’s banishment by the French to Gabon, and later to Mauritania, in those foundational times. During exile, his captors once introduced a lion to his cell: gaïnde gua waf, dieba lu ci Cheikhoul Khadim / the lion doesn’t budge, it gives itself over to Cheikh Khadim. Deep, surging bass, steady kick-drum, and simple, reverbed chords on the off-beat lend the feel and impetus of steppers reggae. A reed plays snatches of a traditional Baye Fall melody; the dazzling polyrhythmic drumming is by Serigne Mamoune Seck. Mbene compellingly blends percussive vocalese, narrative suspense, exultant praise, introspection, and grievance.

Nimzat is a devotional tribute to Cheikh Sadbou, a contemporary of Bamba, buried in a mausoleum in Nizmat, in southern Mauritania. Way nala, kagne nala... souma danana fata dale / I call upon you and wonder about you... If I am overwhelmed, come to my aid. The town holds special significance for Khadr Sufism. An annual pilgrimage there is conducted to this day. The rhythm is buoyantly funky; the mood is sombre, reined-in, foreboding. Punctuated by peals of thunder, Mbene sings with restrained, intense reverence; huskily confidential, steadfast. Nanu dem ba Nimzat, dé ba sali khina / Let us go to Nimzat, to seal our devotion.

Mbene Diatta Seck: vocals.
Bada Seck: bougarabou, thiol, mbeung mbeung bal, tungune.
Serigne Mamoune Seck: bougarabou, khine, mbeung mbeung, tungune.
Text by Mark Ainley (Honest Jons).
Mastered by Rashad Becker.
Everything else by Mark Ernestus.

12” Signed & Embossed Art Print

‘Well let me tell you a little something and it goes like this
Those New York Doll boys they were always looking for a kiss’
Those New York Dolls

The group that started it all back in those pre-punk days. The New York Dolls had it all, style, sass and the tunes to back it up. But as the title of their second and last studio album incurred they were simply `Too Much Too Soon’. For outside of New York and L.A. their humour and drag look was all too much for the mainstream listening public, so they imploded. But a few other bands were taking notes and by softening the edges they took over the world and as the title track of Mal-One’s latest 12” release points out;

‘But who wants a thrill without a little risk
I think we’ll just leave all that up to bands like Kiss’
Those New York Dolls

So Mal-One thought he ‘d better pay homage and let the kids know how great they were.
So we hope you enjoy this tribute to those New York Dolls that make you wanna go…
‘Yeah Yeah Yeah’.

In the vibrant streets of Tembisa, South Africa, amidst the sprawling urbanity connecting Johannesburg and Pretoria, the story of Moskito began. Formed in 2001 by Mahlubi "Shadow" Radebe and the late Zwelakhe "Malemon" Mtshali, the group first emerged as a powerhouse of pantsula dancers. However, their undeniable passion for music soon led them down a new path_ one that would cement their place in kwaito history. Spending countless hours on the street corners of their township, where they were born and raised, Shadow and Malemon danced and sang with an infectious energy that attracted crowds. It wasn't long before the duo decided to channel their talents into a kwaito group, and after adding friends Patrick Lwane and Menzi Dlodlo, Moskito was born. (Pantsula dancing emerged in the 1950s among Black South Africans in townships and continually evolved until it became intertwined with kwaito music culture. The stylized, rapid foot movements and characteristic low-dancing became associated with kwaito as it took over South African urban culture into the early 2000s.) With limited resources, the group displayed immense creativity, recording demos using two cassette decks and instrumental tracks from other artists. They would rap and sing over an instrumental playing on one deck while the second deck records their performance. Their determination paid off when they submitted their demo to Tammy Music Publishers, who were captivated by Moskito's style. "Kwaito was the thing `in' at the time. If you did music you did kwaito. We wanted to fit in and actually it was easy," says Radebe. "We didn't have engineers in the group, so the first time in a real studio was with Percy and Thami to record Idolar." That same year, the group released their debut album, Idolar, under Tammy Music. The album was an undeniable success reaching gold status selling over 25,000 units and earning them a devoted fan base across South Africa and neighboring countries like Botswana, Swaziland, Namibia and Zimbabwe. Moskito collaborated with industry legends such as Chilly Mthiya Tshabalala, who was known for his work with Thiza and Spoke "H." They drew inspiration from Thami Mdluli a.k.a Professor Rhythm, who had dominated the disco scene back in the 80s and 90s. Mdluli helped with musical arrangements and executive produced the album and signed on producer-engineer Percy Mudau, while Shadow and Malemon took pride in composing most of their songs. Like many of the rising kwaito artists of the time, they didn't have music production or engineering backgrounds so they required support from engineers together their ideas down on tape. They were inspired from South African kwaito icons like Trompies, Mdu, Mandoza, and Arthur Mafokate, alongside international heavyweights like Snoop Doggy Dogg, Dr. Dre, 2Pac, and R. Kelly, Moskito created a sound that was uniquely theirs_a perfect blend of local flavor and global influence.

In the vibrant streets of Tembisa, South Africa, amidst the sprawling urbanity connecting Johannesburg and Pretoria, the story of Moskito began. Formed in 2001 by Mahlubi "Shadow" Radebe and the late Zwelakhe "Malemon" Mtshali, the group first emerged as a powerhouse of pantsula dancers. However, their undeniable passion for music soon led them down a new path_ one that would cement their place in kwaito history. Spending countless hours on the street corners of their township, where they were born and raised, Shadow and Malemon danced and sang with an infectious energy that attracted crowds. It wasn't long before the duo decided to channel their talents into a kwaito group, and after adding friends Patrick Lwane and Menzi Dlodlo, Moskito was born. (Pantsula dancing emerged in the 1950s among Black South Africans in townships and continually evolved until it became intertwined with kwaito music culture. The stylized, rapid foot movements and characteristic low-dancing became associated with kwaito as it took over South African urban culture into the early 2000s.) With limited resources, the group displayed immense creativity, recording demos using two cassette decks and instrumental tracks from other artists. They would rap and sing over an instrumental playing on one deck while the second deck records their performance. Their determination paid off when they submitted their demo to Tammy Music Publishers, who were captivated by Moskito's style. "Kwaito was the thing `in' at the time. If you did music you did kwaito. We wanted to fit in and actually it was easy," says Radebe. "We didn't have engineers in the group, so the first time in a real studio was with Percy and Thami to record Idolar." That same year, the group released their debut album, Idolar, under Tammy Music. The album was an undeniable success reaching gold status selling over 25,000 units and earning them a devoted fan base across South Africa and neighboring countries like Botswana, Swaziland, Namibia and Zimbabwe. Moskito collaborated with industry legends such as Chilly Mthiya Tshabalala, who was known for his work with Thiza and Spoke "H." They drew inspiration from Thami Mdluli a.k.a Professor Rhythm, who had dominated the disco scene back in the 80s and 90s. Mdluli helped with musical arrangements and executive produced the album and signed on producer-engineer Percy Mudau, while Shadow and Malemon took pride in composing most of their songs. Like many of the rising kwaito artists of the time, they didn't have music production or engineering backgrounds so they required support from engineers together their ideas down on tape. They were inspired from South African kwaito icons like Trompies, Mdu, Mandoza, and Arthur Mafokate, alongside international heavyweights like Snoop Doggy Dogg, Dr. Dre, 2Pac, and R. Kelly, Moskito created a sound that was uniquely theirs_a perfect blend of local flavor and global influence.

Carwyn Ellis & Rio 18 release their new album "Fontana Rosa". Possibly the world's only musical group to fuse Latin music of all kinds with the Welsh language, this time Rio 18 draw inspiration from slightly different musical corners, including Chicano Soul, Nuyorican pop, and Salsoul disco plus Latin sounds filtered through the cultural spectrum of the USA.

Most significantly though, the album was among the last ever to be recorded by the acclaimed producer Liam Watson at his legendary studio and shrine to all things analogue, Toerag Studios - a huge inspiration and influence on Rio 18's Carwyn Ellis. The "Fontana Rosa" sessions saw Ellis draw together an all-star band at the fabled studio which is perhaps best known through its place in the White Stripes history.

Talking about the story and gestation of the album, Carwyn said:

"I was in Mexico City with Baldo Verdú when I heard that Toerag Studios in London was going to close. It came as a shock - Toerag and Liam Watson, its owner and resident producer had been a massive influence on me. Liam, along with Edwyn Collins, had taught me much of what I know about recording, had hired me as an instrumentalist on countless sessions and had helped me to get started when I began my own solo career. And over the years, I'd still go in to record with Liam whenever the opportunity arose. When I heard that Liam was shutting up shop, I took it upon myself to try and ensure he went out with a musical bang. I rounded up the best band I could get: the aforementioned Venezuelan percussion wiz and singer, Baldo Verdú: American drummer, multi-instrumentalist and producer Shawn Lee: the Isle of Wight's finest drum and percussion master, producer and composer Rupert Brown (whom I'd originally met at Toerag many moons ago): Elan Rhys, one of Wales's finest voices and long term collaborator with Rio 18, as well as being one third of the wonderful folk group, Plu: and Kassin - my Brazilian brother from Rio de Janeiro, bassist and producer with artists such as Jorge Ben, Caetano Veloso, Gilberto Gil and a multitude of others, including Carwyn Ellis & Rio 18.

So this was my dream team, assembled to make beautiful music one more time at Toerag (I have to add at this point that Shawn and Rupert hit it off so well at our sessions that they booked their own session shortly afterwards! Look out for the brilliant Shawn Lee's Toerag Orchestra 'Percussion Discussion' album). Toerag, if you're not familiar with the place, made its name as London's foremost analogue studio for some 30 years, recording directly to tape which in essence means musicians playing live, together in a room until they get it right. And the sound? Oh the SOUND!! And this is all Liam Watson's doing, his sonic aesthetic - a real master engineer. The studio is perhaps best known as the place where the White Stripes recorded their monster hit album 'Elephant' but for me it's where I got to record with James Hunter, Lay Low (from Iceland), Quruli (from Japan), Fabienne Delsol (from France) and made many lasting friendships, learnt a great deal about popular music, as well as making a bunch of my own best recordings with Colorama.

Over the course of five days we laid down as much music as we could. We had some visitors too: guitar slinger Little Barrie (Primal Scream, The The and Liam Gallagher among other things, but also my dear bandmate in Edwyn Collins's band): sax and flute maestro Jim Hunt (Amy Winehouse, Primal Scream, Duffy and very many others): and Diego Laverde Rojas, the Colombian Latin harp virtuoso.

This time the music had a slightly different edge - although we still maintained our Brazilian/Welsh connection on 'Deffro'r Dydd' (written with and sung by Elan Rhys), our Cumbia vibe and some Merengue ('Mariposa' and 'Te Adoro', sung by Baldo Verdú) and even a traditional Afro-Venezuelan tune ('La Quichimba', again sung by Baldo) - the main influence for me this time was Latin music as recorded in the USA, both new and old. 'No More Secrets' is a straight up slice of Salsoul disco, while 'Hei Ti' is a punky funky but of Nu Yorican pop somewhere between ESG and the Beastie Boys. But one of my main influences in the last couple of years has been the current wave of Chicano Soul coming from California, particularly via the Penrose and Big Crown labels. I was turned on to this music when I was in Japan in early 2023 - Takashi-san at Pleased To Meet Me Records in Nara played me the Altons' 'Float' and I was hooked!

And that music has a similar aesthetic to Toerag: music recorded live to tape by excellent engineers, performed by fine musicians and singers. So our songs 'Impossible', 'Heartbreaker' and 'Lovesick' are very much in this vein. And that just leaves the title track, 'Fontana Rosa'."

Rico Nasty returns with a new studio album, LETHAL due out May 16th on Fueled by Ramen (Atlantic Music Group).

Rico Nasty is known for her own particular brand of rage-rap and for her outrageous on-stage, online, volume-up persona. But as she grew up, she started to feel trapped by the character she created. LETHAL is a reckoning of who Rico is at 27 with the trap-pop teen persona she created more than a decade ago. Executive produced by GRAMMY nominated producer Imad Royal, the album still features all the hallmarks of a Rico Nasty record - female rage, heavy guitars, humor - but there are also notes of femininity,

introspection and a more complex framing of all the angles of Rico - the performer, the mother, the adult.

LETHAL is Rico Nasty’s third studio album following her debut album, Nightmare Vacation and her 2022 follow-up to Las Ruinas.

'Trá Pháidín are an Irish nine piece collective from Conamara, Galway, a wild coastal region of West Ireland where Gaeilge remains the first language. The group are currently lighting up Ireland's underground with their joyful noise, a unique and unpredictable blend of traditional Irish folk, post-rock, jazz, and Dadaist absurdity. The glorious album An 424 takes us on a psychogeographical journey along the 424 bus route which follows this remote stretch of coastline, introducing us to the landscapes and the characters who depend on the buses. Expect wild improvisational flights filled with brass, woodwinds, harp and fiddles alongside relentless grooves.

Here's what the band themselves have to say about the album:

Psychogeography is a funny aul term......the effect geography and landscape of a certain area has on the psychology, identity and nature of the local people...........I suppose

Notoriously, Conamara is famous place for psychogeoraphy due to the work of the great Tom Robinson. He walked every coastline in every area contemplating the geography, culture, history, Gaelic language, English language and folklore of the area while he was drawing it's best map with great depth and detail.

Right, so I've given context, a few buzzwords and some interesting names, now it's time for the absurd stuff....

"Bóthar Chois Fharraige" (the R336 and whatever anglicized name they call it) is well known by everyone in the South Conamara Gaeltacht (Gaeltacht is an area where Irish/Gaeilge is the dominant language, there aren't many because we were colonized by the British and our government doesn't care about its own language). The people of Conamara travel this road almost every day by car, by bike, on Peadar Óg's buses or of course, through the medium of the 424 (the bus service provided by Bus Éireann, Ireland's public-private bus company). From Bearna to Carna (maybe sometimes a detour in Casla going as far back as an Cheathrú Rua and/or Leitir Mealláin)

Every passenger is well versed of gorgeous views of the landscape that is on offer on this journey. Included are Cuan na Gaillimhe/Galway Bay, An Bhoirinn/the Burren, na hOileáin Árann/the Arann Islands,Aillte an Mhothair/the Cliffs of Moher, Portach Mhaigh Cuilinn/the bogs of Maigh Cuilinn, Bóthar Loch an Iolra/Eagle lake road, Cuan Casla/Casla Harbour, Cuan an Fhir Mhóir/Greatman's Bay, Cnoc Mordáin/Mordáin hill, Sléibhte Mhám Toirc/the Maamturk Mountains and Na Beanna Beola/the twelve pins. Passengers would also be well used the unique character of the bus. Depending on the day, you will get a unique perspective of the "complicated identity" of the Gaels as the bus travels from the Gaeltacht into anglophone Ireland, or maybe going the other way.

This is a topic you could write a PhD about (and maybe someone already has). But, if you are someone who grew up or lives in this region, you have a particular understanding at this stage of how complicated Gaelic psyche is and the kind of spectrum of identity along bóthar Choise Fharraige. With the landscape in mind, this bus journey is a great meditation of the various topics of life.

‘Bhfuil tionchar ag an mbus ar nádúr na ndaoine?
Nó an bhfuil tionchar ag na daoine ar nádúr an bhus?'

'Does the bus effect the nature of the people?
Or do the people affect the nature of the bus?'

Le gach dea-ghuí,
TP.

(translated from Gaeilge by Peadar-Tom Mercier)'

La Revolución de Emiliano Zapata was the Mexican psychedelic rock band that achieved the most commercial success internationally in the early 70s. Their self-titled and much sought-after debut LP (1971) is considered one of the best acid rock albums in Mexico, recorded under the influence of groups like Credence Clearwater Revival or the Who but also adding their own style featuring an original and stunning guitar sound. Remastered from the original tapes. Includes poster. 180g vinyl. Despite not participating in the legendary Avándaro festival, La Revolución de Emiliano Zapata was the Mexican psychedelic rock band that achieved the most commercial success internationally in the early 70s. Their fantastic 'Nasty Sex', along with other songs like 'If You Want It' or 'Melynda' boosted their first album at the top of the sales charts worldwide. Although their sound changed over time, their debut LP (1971) is considered one of the best acid rock albums in Mexico, recorded under the influence of groups like Credence Clearwater Revival or the Who but also adding their own style featuring an original and stunning guitar sound. Sadly, Mexican record labels lost interest in local rock bands due to the repression of La Onda movement by the Mexican Government, resulting in rock bands being banned. This, in addition to internal disagreements between members of the group, eventually led to the end of their relationship with Polydor in 1973. La Revolución de Emiliano Zapata entered a new artistic phase in their career, focusing on ballads and adopting different new musical trends over the years.

This April, Jessie Wagner releases her long awaited second solo album, “War Within”
on Little Stevie Van Zandt’s Wicked Cool Records. Jessie is a true multi-talent. She is a vocalist, songwriter, actor, model and dancer who possesses a unique worldview which she shares via her very personal songs.
Many of Jessie’s current fans know her best as a featured vocalist with some of the best known and most loved names in music. She launched her career within a year of moving to New York when she became a member of the world renowned disco group Chic, with Nile Rodgers. Jessie played to sold out crowds at London’s famed O2 Arena with Chic and then later on, with Kid Rock, with whom she also performed at the Grammys. Jessie then got to tour with her personal rock idol Lenny Kravitz and is featured in his tour documentary, “Just Let Go”. She performed with Stevie Nicks and Robert Plant at the Montreux Jazz Festival and sang on the platinum selling album “Rock and Roll Jesus”.

Very few bands manage to last decades, and for the ones that do, it's often easy to settle down and get a little too comfortable. But there's nothing comfortable about Devourer, the explosive new album from Cursive. The iconic Omaha group is known for their intensity, ambition, and execution, and has spent 30 years creating a bold discography that's defined as much by its cathartic sound as its weighty, challenging lyrical themes. And Devourer is as daring as ever. Full of intense and incisive songs, the album proves exactly why Cursive have been so influential and enduring-and why they remain so vital today.In the years since their 1995 formation, Cursive developed into one of the most important groups to emerge from the late-'90s/early `00s moment when the lines between indie rock and post-hardcore began blurring into something altogether new. Albums like Domestica (2000) and The Ugly Organ (2003) became essential touchstones whose echoes can still be heard in new bands today. Devourer, as an expansive new double-album, examines humanity's bottomless capacity for consumption through a series of songs that act like vignettes, driven by frontman Tim Kasher's never-ending appetite for both taking in and creating art."I am obsessive about consuming the arts," he explains. "Music, film, literature. I've come to recognize that I devour all of these art forms then, in turn, create my own versions of these things and spew them out onto the world. It's positive; you're part of an ecosystem. But I quickly recognized that the term, `Devourer,' may also embody something gnarly, sinister." Fans have come to expect such heady topics from Cursive, but Devourer sets a new standard.While Cursive's music hasn't gotten any more comfortable, perhaps its being released into a world that's at least a little more shaped in their image. Devourer sounds urgent and fresh, the work of a band still experimenting, still hungering to find new creative heights. On album highlight "Consumers," the protagonist bemoans, "I saw our future and I want to go back." But Cursive are only moving forward.

The Ibex Band, with Giovanni Rico and Selam Woldemariam at the creative helm, provided the musical backbone for legends like Aster Aweke, Girma Beyene, Tilahun Gessesse, Mulatu Astatke, and Mahmoud Ahmed, including the iconic album Ere Mela Mela, shaping modern Ethiopian music as we know it today. This 1976 album (Ge’ez Year 1968) played a pivotal role in that legacy and has now resurfaced to set the record straight.

There’s a tendency to talk about the seventies as a golden age of Ethiopian music. There are good reasons for that, and just as good reasons against it. However, the notion of a golden past privileges the role of Western explorers and suggests that the pinnacle of Ethiopia’s musical culture is something only a foreigner can appreciate and unearth. It downplays the complexities of Ethiopia’s culture and history, creating an artificial divide between then and now. And it underestimates the constantly evolving sound that has followed.

The legendary musical outfit The Ibex Band, later metamorphosed into The Roha Band, has played a central role in defining the sound of many of the greatest stars on the music scene of Ethiopia from the mid-seventies onwards–but their golden output has never really waned. The story of the origins of the band that provided the musical backbone for greats such as Aster Aweke, Girma Beyene, Tilahun Gessesse, backing the solo career of group member Mahmoud Ahmed as well as backing Mulatu Astatke and many others has yet to be properly told.

Two misconceptions plague the image of Ethiopian music, one is that the music is pure because it is, by some notion, unexploited, the other is that it is all traditional. To begin with, a combination of political changes between the late sixties and the mid-nineties created an environment where only the most dedicated and skilled musicians struggled on and pursued a musical career against fierce odds. The whole Ibex Band, with Giovanni Rico and Selam “Selamino” Seyoum Woldermarian at the creative helm, are arguably the origo of the vibrant scene in the mid-seventies, and the said pair are foremost responsible for not only navigating the band through troubled times, but also modernizing the 6/8 chickchicka rhythm to a contemporary form. Giovanni laid the rhythmic foundation with heavy looped basslines that reinvented traditional melodies as dance music, and with Selamino’s innovative guitar work they influenced scores of musicians from Abegaz Kibrework Shiota to Henock Temesgen. Even Giovanni’s Fender bass and Selamino’s Gibson guitar inspired younger musicians in their choice of instruments. Not only in choice of instruments but also in sound–even as the digital revolution hit Ethiopian music, a lot of popular music still took its cue from the masters from Ibex and Roha.

Ibex emerged out of the ashes of the sixties group the Soul Echos band, adding Giovanni and Selamino to their ranks and taking their cues from a slew of influences, such as Motown and The Beatles, fused with traditional music. A tighter-knit unit than most bands at the time – Ibex has remained six to seven members throughout their whole career, compared to many bands that were as large as fifteen or sixteen men strong when Ibex set out. Their playing has been viciously focused, economical yet heavy. Just a year before the recording sessions of the album in your hands, Giovanni and Selamino made a contribution to the popular musical lexicon of Ethiopia that was simply defining the popular sound: their arrangement and recording of bandmate Mahmoud Ahmed’s solo effort and real commercial breakthrough tune and eponymous album, Ere Mela Mela, from 1975.

Selamino has never limited himself to being an adroit lead guitarist, but has always been a scholar of history, and as such he has probably contributed as much to modern Ethiopian music with his guitar playing and compositions as with a deepened understanding of modern or contemporary – Zemenawi – Ethiopian music. Selamino’s contributions serve as a metaphor for those of the whole band, at one and the same time creating and defining a new, danceable and updated sound anchored in Giovanni’s bass, whilst also elevating the broader scene through their support for others on the scene and on top of that, increasing the understanding of the music.

There is an understandable desire to romanticize the musical heyday Ibex and Roha were at the forefront of, because so much of the output is sorrowfully hard to come by. Ibex creativity was nothing short of ridiculously fierce compared to many of their Western contemporaries. Based on their sheer recorded output alone they could have usurped the title “hardest working in show business” from James Brown, recording more than 250 albums or 2500 songs in the seventies and eighties. Some only surface as cassettes today, others were never given full LP release, and some are simply impossible to find today. In the light of that, it’s nothing short of a miracle that the recording Stereo Instrumental Music from 1976 (Ge’ez Year 1968) has resurfaced. Unearthed in perfect condition on a chrome cassette, this is musical history comes alive–to set the future straight. Stereo Instrumental Music was recorded in collaboration with Karl-Gustav Lundgren, a Swedish national working for the Radio Voice of the Gospel. It took two sessions at the Ras Hotel ballroom in Addis Ababa. The Ibex Band was the first band in Ethiopia to employ a four-track recorder for their recording (the first available in the country, lent by Karl-Gustav). Later the same week, Giovanni and Selamino realized that, lengthwise, the recorded material fell short of what they wished for, so they recorded four more tracks in one more session on a single-track recorder. The Ras Hotel and Ghion Hotel, where the Ibex Band held musical residencies were to Ethiopia in general and Addis Ababa in particular what Motown was to the USA and Detroit a few years earlier – a hotbed of musical creativity and showmanship.

The most astonishing thing about Ethiopian music of the last half century is how tradition and modernity are intertwined. Because of this feature, it’s kind of hard to tell when there ever was or when we are in a “golden age”. So much of music from the past has been criminally neglected, but because of the hardships in the past, it would be an oversimplification to say that said past was a golden age. Probably, the golden age is what we are approaching, because for the first time both the past and future are accessible, and the monumental contributions from before can lay a firm foundation for a thriving music scene today. The Ibex Band stands firmly in the past, present and the future. That, if anything, is golden.

The detailed history of Stereo Instrumental Music is in many ways unique. To begin with, it couldn’t have been recorded earlier (there were no four-track recorders available) and it really couldn’t have been recorded afterwards either, at least not in the years directly following, because of the toll the musical scene took from the unfavorable political climate that followed when the nascent Derg regime and rival groups tried to assert themselves, the musical equipment lent from The Voice of Gospel Radio simply disappeared from Ethiopia when the radio station folded in 1977. Karl-Gustav Lundgren,
the Swedish foreign national who assisted during the recording, worked with the Ethiopian Evangelical Church Mekane Yesus at the time, recalls how they only had about fifteen minutes to get the microphones in place for the recording as to not alert neither the management at Ras Hotel nor the authorities and most importantly, to complete the recording before the curfew came into effect at midnight. In leaping to the opportunity to use previously unavailable equipment to push their sound forward and improvising to meet the logistical challenges, the Ibex Band displayed the very avant-gardism and adaptability that explains their longevity as a band through the years. The recording of Stereo Instrumental Music is from a given time in history, but it sounds as beyond time.
Much of the energy that burst out of the scene that Stereo Instrumental Music came out of dissipated or got sidetracked during the societal changes Ethiopia went through in the 1970s and 80s. Whilst leaders might have professed to be revolutionary, the work ethic of the Ibex Band can truly be described as that. They never called it quits, but adapted, toured extensively abroad in Africa, Europe, and the Middle East, and found ways to work even in the face of the curfew that curtailed a lot of musical life. They even played major arenas in the nineteen eighties, despite said curfew and restrictions. The whole extent of their legacy has never been told, but their music speaks louder than words, so therefore… tune in to the Ibex Band’s Stereo Instrumental Music.

The Delights formerly unissued recording “Listen To Me Girl” first made it’s vinyl debut during 2017 when released back to back with Tearra’s modern soul anthem “Just Loving You” (SJ1008). Having sold out very quickly this release now commands a price of £60.00 a copy. So, with demand still high we have decided to release “Listen To Me Girl” for a second time with the addition of two recently found unissued master tape tracks, which make their vinyl debut as part of this 3 track EP.

The Delights story began in the early 1960’s while as a children’s group from Chester PA. known as ‘The Twilights’ they began entering local talent shows which culminated in a performance at Philadelphia’s prestigious ‘Uptown Theatre’ during 1963. ‘The Twilights’ made their professional recording debut in 1964 for Weldon McDougal III, Johnny Stiles and Luther Randolph’s Harthon Production’s label with “It’s Been So Long/She Put Me Down” (TW-34). A second Twilights 45 came in 1967 “Shipwreck/For The First Time” (TW-35) which sold sufficiently well to be picked up for national distribution by Cameo Parkway. The group consisted of four male vocalists, brothers Kemp “Toppy” Hill, Ellis “Butch” Hill (the eldest) and Jaime “Peanut” Hill and their friend Raymond, plus lead singer and only female member Brandi ‘Peaches’ Wells (born Marquerite J. Pinder) who was only 9 years old when she sang on the group’s first Harthon 45, (Jaime Hill reputedly never featured on either of the two Harthon 45 recordings).

The Hill Brothers were cousins of Manny Campbell and it’s through this family connection that the group came to Emandolynn Productions initially as backing singers before being persuaded by Manny to drop their former performing name of ‘The Twilights’, to become ‘The Delights’. Under Manny and fellow Philadelphian Charles J. Bowen’s tutelage they recorded the delightful crossover dance track “Listen To Me Girl” during the months of July and August of 1968. Recent unearthed master tape finds from these early sessions have since yielded the featured “Come And Rejoice” an energetic subtle gospel influenced dance track which Manny wrote and produced on them in the hope of giving them a wider body of work and appeal as he shopped their demos around local record companies. The original backing track to “Listen To Me” is also featured on this release.

During the mid-1970’s ‘The Delights’ under the tutelage of respected Philly producer, arranger and songwriter Morris Bailey Jr recorded two 45 releases for the Jamie/Guyden distributed Phil-L.A Of Soul label “It’s As Simple As That/I’ve Got Enough Sense” (PH-374) and “Face The Music/Things Ain’t What They Used To Be” (PH-379). Brandi Wells had left the group prior to the Phil-L.A Of Soul releases to firstly join Major Harris’s backing singers ‘Brown Sugar’ before forming the group ‘Breeze’ who backed fellow WMOT label stable mates Billy Paul, Fat Larry & Philly Cream (a.k.a Ingram). Breeze later evolved into the group Slick who recorded the self-named album which produced the chart hits “Space Bass” and “Sexy Cream”. In 1981 Brandi recorded her first solo debut album ‘Watch Out’ which reached #37 on the Billboard R&B Chart, her second solo album entitled “20TH Century Fox” followed in 1985 for the Omni label. She recorded the Butch Ingram penned “I Love You” 12” single for Butch’s Society Hill records in 1992. Sadly, Brandi Wells passed away in 2003 at the age of 47.

"Little Girl Blue, released in 1957, was Nina Simone's first studio recording ever. It was originally issued on the Bethlehem label and features the singer/ pianist backed by bassist Jimmy Bond (who had been a member of the Chet Baker Quartet among other groups) and drummer Albert ""Tootie"" Heath, one of the celebrated Heath brothers (the other two being saxophonist Jimmy Heath, and bassist Percy Heath). Many of the tracks from this LP would become true classics, among them her perennial version of ""My Baby Just Cares For Me"".

THE COMPLETE ALBUM + 3 BONUS TRACKS - 180-GRAM VIRGIN VINYL -
LIMITED EDITION"

Kneading dough is tricky – you should know how it’s supposed to feel. If you try too hard you could make it worse. It’s a beautiful practice – creation with a gentle touch, to work at something so it can be left alone. “If it’s too drawn out it’s awful. It’s easy to give too much.” Dance in the mirror. Contemplate your veiny hands. Who do they remind you of?

You begin by mixing flour and water. “What happens when your people die? Why’d they move the rock to the other side of Ulster Park?” Eliza Niemi asks two seemingly unrelated questions in a rising melody with guitar accompaniment, like fingers playing spider up to the nape of your neck. Gentle pressure. Strands of gluten form to bind the mix. A new question lingers in the binding. When she admits “but I don’t know how to tell if I’m feeling it or not,” that question surfaces through the text. It is reiterated throughout the album. When I’m working with dough I think the same thing to myself.

On Progress Bakery, her second album as a solo artist, Eliza knows to leave some questions alone – to let juxtaposition and tension be the proof. It doesn’t have to be hard. The feelings and revelations they provoke rise in the heat. The smell is sweet. Crispy on the outside and soft all the way through. She playfully slip-slides through words and sounds and images, delighting in surprise, skimming ideas like stones cast across clear water, touching down briefly with uncommon grace.

The question provoked between those opening lines resurfaces in the strands between songs – “Do U FM” is fully formed and beautifully layered, while “Novelist Sad Face” is a short, acapella rendering of gentle curiosity. What is holding these ideas together? Some songs demand more, seem to carry a whole load – eventually the skipping stone will halt to sink and resume its idle duty – while others drift in and out of focus, the way thoughts and dreams become interwoven before the mind is sunk into true sleep.

Music and words don’t always have to interact. Where she decides to keep them apart gives a new contour to where and how she puts them together. The kind of thing you’re supposed to take for granted with songs and their singers comes alive in Eliza’s hands – the little miracle of mixing, kneading, stretching, and stopping.

So often on Progress Bakery, Eliza teases out truth and meaning by asking questions. “Do I wanna be crying?” “Do you want me good or do you want me bad?” “Do I need an eye test?” “I’m writing songs in my head while you’re going over stuff with me — is that cruel??” In “Pocky” Eliza ends with a question that feels to me like the actual biography, succinct and revealing:

I don’t wanna be made to see
I just wanna ask “what’s that?”

Grace that ought to be rare, but in its care and precision is offered humbly, with great generosity, and without announcing itself. Eliza’s simple, miraculous music is given further form and shape by a group of collaborators – invaluable guest musicians Jeremy Ray, Evan Cartwright, Steven McPhail, Kenny Boothby, Ed Squires, Carolina Chauffe, Dorothea Paas, Louie Short, and Avalon Tassonyi. Together with Louie Short, who recorded, mixed, and produced the album along with Jeremy Ray and Lukas Cheung, Eliza has cultivated a richness in sound and texture that prods and provokes the ticklish ear. Barely audible guitar tinkering, a brief lo-fi field recording of trumpets, the harmonic clicking of a looped synthesizer, a flourish of reeds, a child’s conversation, each uncanny sound perfectly placed, rippling out under a soft breeze.

Lay in bed alone at night and ask aloud to the stillness,

“What were you doing at the Albuquerque Airport?
What were you doing there??”

And hear your question answered by a dream of swelling, undulating cellos. Try to grasp at the melody and structure. It’s not an answer (if there could be one), but it moves deeper, closer to the weird layer of fleeting moments and disconnected images, barely perceptible at its core. Wait for the dream reel to click into place.

Eliza took me for a ride in Nicole (her beloved Dodge Grand Caravan) and told me she’d been thinking of the album as an embodiment of transition – and I think every transition, known or unknown, carries the weight of new meaning, skittering off the surface tension of life as you know it, creating ripples, sometimes bouncing off and sometimes breaking through. There is a trick you can use to tell if a dough is glutinous enough. You’re supposed to stretch it out as thin as you can without breaking it and hold it up to the light. If you can see through, even if it renders the world murky and uncertain, you should leave it alone. I love this trick. It’s one that Eliza seems to know intuitively: work gently and ask questions and don’t always expect answers, and when you can, take a glimpse at something new, and then leave.

Kneading dough is tricky – you should know how it’s supposed to feel. If you try too hard you could make it worse. It’s a beautiful practice – creation with a gentle touch, to work at something so it can be left alone. “If it’s too drawn out it’s awful. It’s easy to give too much.” Dance in the mirror. Contemplate your veiny hands. Who do they remind you of?

You begin by mixing flour and water. “What happens when your people die? Why’d they move the rock to the other side of Ulster Park?” Eliza Niemi asks two seemingly unrelated questions in a rising melody with guitar accompaniment, like fingers playing spider up to the nape of your neck. Gentle pressure. Strands of gluten form to bind the mix. A new question lingers in the binding. When she admits “but I don’t know how to tell if I’m feeling it or not,” that question surfaces through the text. It is reiterated throughout the album. When I’m working with dough I think the same thing to myself.

On Progress Bakery, her second album as a solo artist, Eliza knows to leave some questions alone – to let juxtaposition and tension be the proof. It doesn’t have to be hard. The feelings and revelations they provoke rise in the heat. The smell is sweet. Crispy on the outside and soft all the way through. She playfully slip-slides through words and sounds and images, delighting in surprise, skimming ideas like stones cast across clear water, touching down briefly with uncommon grace.

The question provoked between those opening lines resurfaces in the strands between songs – “Do U FM” is fully formed and beautifully layered, while “Novelist Sad Face” is a short, acapella rendering of gentle curiosity. What is holding these ideas together? Some songs demand more, seem to carry a whole load – eventually the skipping stone will halt to sink and resume its idle duty – while others drift in and out of focus, the way thoughts and dreams become interwoven before the mind is sunk into true sleep.

Music and words don’t always have to interact. Where she decides to keep them apart gives a new contour to where and how she puts them together. The kind of thing you’re supposed to take for granted with songs and their singers comes alive in Eliza’s hands – the little miracle of mixing, kneading, stretching, and stopping.

So often on Progress Bakery, Eliza teases out truth and meaning by asking questions. “Do I wanna be crying?” “Do you want me good or do you want me bad?” “Do I need an eye test?” “I’m writing songs in my head while you’re going over stuff with me — is that cruel??” In “Pocky” Eliza ends with a question that feels to me like the actual biography, succinct and revealing:

I don’t wanna be made to see
I just wanna ask “what’s that?”

Grace that ought to be rare, but in its care and precision is offered humbly, with great generosity, and without announcing itself. Eliza’s simple, miraculous music is given further form and shape by a group of collaborators – invaluable guest musicians Jeremy Ray, Evan Cartwright, Steven McPhail, Kenny Boothby, Ed Squires, Carolina Chauffe, Dorothea Paas, Louie Short, and Avalon Tassonyi. Together with Louie Short, who recorded, mixed, and produced the album along with Jeremy Ray and Lukas Cheung, Eliza has cultivated a richness in sound and texture that prods and provokes the ticklish ear. Barely audible guitar tinkering, a brief lo-fi field recording of trumpets, the harmonic clicking of a looped synthesizer, a flourish of reeds, a child’s conversation, each uncanny sound perfectly placed, rippling out under a soft breeze.

Lay in bed alone at night and ask aloud to the stillness,

“What were you doing at the Albuquerque Airport?
What were you doing there??”

And hear your question answered by a dream of swelling, undulating cellos. Try to grasp at the melody and structure. It’s not an answer (if there could be one), but it moves deeper, closer to the weird layer of fleeting moments and disconnected images, barely perceptible at its core. Wait for the dream reel to click into place.

Eliza took me for a ride in Nicole (her beloved Dodge Grand Caravan) and told me she’d been thinking of the album as an embodiment of transition – and I think every transition, known or unknown, carries the weight of new meaning, skittering off the surface tension of life as you know it, creating ripples, sometimes bouncing off and sometimes breaking through. There is a trick you can use to tell if a dough is glutinous enough. You’re supposed to stretch it out as thin as you can without breaking it and hold it up to the light. If you can see through, even if it renders the world murky and uncertain, you should leave it alone. I love this trick. It’s one that Eliza seems to know intuitively: work gently and ask questions and don’t always expect answers, and when you can, take a glimpse at something new, and then leave.

Googling “paradise house”, the first results to pop up are an endless list of European b&b’s with whitewashed lime façades, all of them promising “…an unmatched travel experience a few steps from the sea”. Next, a little further down, are the institutional websites of a few select semi-luxury retirement homes (no photos shown, but lots of stock images of smiling nurses with reassuring looks). To find the “paradise house” we’re after, we have to scroll even further down. Much further down.

It feels like yesterday, and at the same time it seems like a million years ago. The Eighties had just ended, and it was still unclear what to expect from the Nineties. Mobile phones that were not the size of a briefcase and did not cost as much as a car? A frightening economic crisis? The guitar-rock revival?! Certainly, the best place to observe that moment of transition was the dancefloor. Truly epochal transformations were happening there. From America, within a short distance one from the other, two revolutionary new musical styles had arrived: the first one sounded a bit like an “on a budget” version of the best Seventies disco-music – Philly sound made with a set of piano-bar keyboards! – the other was even more sparse, futuristic and extraterrestrial. It was a music with a quite distinct “physical” component, which at the same time, to be fully grasped, seemed to call for the knotty theories of certain French post-modern philosophers: Gilles Deleuze, Félix Guattari, Paul Virilio... Both those genres – we would learn shortly after – were born in the black communities of Chicago and Detroit, although listening to those vinyl 12” (often wrapped in generic white covers, and with little indication in the label) you could not easily guess whether behind them there was a black boy from somewhere in the Usa, or a girl from Berlin, or a pale kid from a Cornish coastal town.

Quickly, similar sounds began to show up from all corners of Europe. A thousand variations of the same intuition: leaner, less lean, happier, slightly less intoxicated, more broken, slower, faster, much faster... Boom! From the dancefloors – the London ones at least, whose chronicles we eagerly read every month in the pages of The Face and i-D – came tales of a new generation of clubbers who had completely stopped “dressing up” to go dancing; of hot tempered hooligans bursting into tears and hugging everyone under the strobe lights as the notes of Strings of Life rose up through the fumes of dry ice (certain “smiling” pills were also involved, sure). At this point, however, we must move on to Switzerland.

In Switzerland, in the quiet and diligent town of Lugano, between the 1980s and 1990s there was a club called “Morandi”. Its hot night was on Wednesdays, when the audience also came from Milan, Como, Varese and Zurich. Legend goes that, one night, none less than Prince and Sheila E were spotted hiding among the sofas, on a day-off of the Italian dates of the Nude Tour… The Wednesday resident and superstar was an Italian dj with an exotic name: Don Carlos. The soundtrack he devised was a mixture of Chicago, Detroit, the most progressive R&B and certain forgotten classics of old disco music: practically, what the Paradise Garage in New York might have sounded like had it not closed in 1987. In between, Don Carlos also managed to squeeze in some tracks he had worked on in his studio on Lago Maggiore. One in particular: a track that was rather slow compared to the BPM in fashion at the time, but which was a perfect bridge between house and R&B. The title was Alone: Don Carlos would explain years later that it had to be intended both in the English meaning of “by itself” and like the Italian word meaning “halo”. That wasn’t the only double entendre about the song, anyway. Its own very deep nature was, indeed, double. On the one hand, Alone was built around an angelic keyboard pattern and a romantic piano riff that took you straight to heaven; on the other, it showcased enough electronic squelches (plus a sax part that sounded like it had been dissolved by acid rain) to pigeonhole the tune into the “junk modernity” section, aka the hallmark of all the most innovative sounds of the time: music that sounded like it was hand-crafted from the scraps of glittering overground pop.

No one knows who was the first to call it “paradise house”, nor when it happened. Alternative definitions on the same topic one happened to hear included “ambient house”, “dream house”, “Mediterranean progressive”… but of course none were as good (and alluring) as “paradise house”. What is certain is that such inclination for sounds that were in equal measure angelic and neurotic, romantic and unaffective, quickly became the trademark of the second generation of Italian house. Music that seemed shyly equidistant from all the rhythmic and electronic revolutions that had happened up to that moment (“Music perfectly adept at going nowhere slowly” as noted by English journalist Craig McLean in a legendary field report for Blah Blah Blah magazine). Music that to a inattentive ear might have sounded as anonymous as a snapshot of a random group of passers-by at 10AM in the centre of any major city, but perfectly described the (slow) awakening in the real world after the universal love binge of the so-called Second Summer of Love.

For a brief but unforgettable season, in Italy “paradise house” was the official soundtrack of interminable weekends spent inside the car, darting from one club to another, cutting the peninsula from North to centre, from East to West coast in pursuit of the latest after-hours disco, trading kilometres per hour with beats per minute: practically, a new New Year’s Eve every Friday and Saturday night. This too was no small transformation, as well as a shock for an adult Italy that was encountering for the first time – thanks to its sons and daughters – the wild side of industrial modernity. The clubbers of the so-called “fuoriorario” scene were the balls gone mad in the pinball machine most feared by newspapers, magazines and TV pundits. What they did each and every weekend, apart from going crazy to the sound of the current white labels, was linking distant geographical points and non-places (thank you Marc Augé!) – old dance halls, farmhouses and business centres – transformed for one night into house music heaven. As Marco D’Eramo wrote in his 1995 essay on Chicago, Il maiale e il grattacielo: “Four-wheeled capitalism distorts our age-old image of the city, it allows the suburbs to be connected to each other, whereas before they were connected only by the centre (…) It makes possible a metropolitan area without a metropolis, without a city centre, without downtown. The periphery is no longer a periphery of any centre, but is self-centred”.

“Paradise house” perfectly understood all of this and turned it into a sort of cyber-blues that didn’t even need words, and unexpectedly brought back a drop of melancholic (post?)-humanity within a world that by then – as we would wholly realise in the decades to come – was fully inhuman and heartless. A world where we were all alone, and surrounded by a sinister yellowish halo, like a neon at the end of its life cycle. But, for one night at least, happy."

'It begins with a shoebox of mysterious provenance, full of recordings from the Vendée department on France’s western seaboard: songs of love and war, life and death, played out on land and sea. Songs passed down and sung by ordinary men and women, gracefully delivered with the poetic economy which unites the folk song of all peoples.

Next it takes a group of contemporary musicians to make selections from this treasure trove and sing these old songs anew; to sing them for their beauty, of course, and to reclaim the people’s tradition from those who would seek to exploit it for nefarious political ends. Who better for this task than Tartine de Clous, a singing trio from Vendée’s neighbouring department of Charente-Maritime, who burst into national and international consciousness with their debut album "Sans Folklore" in 2015? The result of their shoebox rummagings, the new album "Compter les dents", recorded in 2019 and finally seeing the light of day, is bound to delight old fans and win them many new ones.

Time makes many’s the alteration, and "Compter les dents" finds 'les garçons' - Geoffroy Dudouit, Thomas Georget and Guillaume Maupin - in a different state of being from their debut release. The trio, friends since youth, have certainly matured between albums, as one would expect; consequently the newer performances are more considered and poised, unfolding with a patient confidence. A relaxed domesticity prevails, something to do with the fact that the album was entirely recorded chez les amis, in contrast to the first album, which was mostly recorded at live performances in bars and night-spots across France.

Lending gravitas to the grain of their voices we mark a deepened richness, doubtless born of the various vicissitudes of daily existence which these gentlemen - and we too as citizens of this turmoiled globe - have weathered in the intervening years. Not too dissimilar, in fact,
from some of the vicissitudes detailed in those old Vendée songs. Plus 'ça change', right?

There’s a greater complexity and subtlety to their unique three-part harmonising, too. Their voices mesh in even stronger - almost telepathic - 'fraternité' than ever before: now commanding and mighty as a full-rigged counter-vessel, now gentle and lulling as a mother’s
cradle-croon, or as the whisper in a lover’s ear.

Three legendary figures of French traditional music, now sadly departed, preside as tutelary spirits over Compter les dents. They are: the late Claude Flagel, musician and ethnomusicologist; and the late Jean-Loup Baly of the well-known 1970s band Mélusine. Most of the album was recorded by Claude in the Brussels home he shared with his late wife Lou Flagel. The album is dedicated to the memory of Jean-Loup, Claude and Lou.

For the first time there are several guest instrumentalists working their magic to expand the Tartine de Clous sound. Jean-Loup plays a characterful accordéon on the song ‘La Veuve'. The other guests are: Maurice Artus (voice), Robert Thébaut (violin), Quentin Manfroy (piccolo, contrabassoon), Marceau Portron (cigar box guitar). Their contributions add even more conviviality to that which the trio of singers already share, a sensation which will doubtless be shared by those who happen to find a place in their lives for "Compter les dents".'

Liner notes by Alasdair Roberts.

In their new album Bagola, Trio Da Kali present newly composed songs accompanied on balafon and ngoniba, that provide a rich accompaniment to the spectacular voice of Hawa Kasse Mady Diabaté. She inherits her singing style from her father, the late Kasse Mady Diabaté, who was widely recognized as one of Africa"s all-time greatest singers and won a Grammy nomination in 2004. Hawa"s voice has an exquisite purity and expressiveness, with a wide emotional range. She is equally at home in the lively, 9/8 rhythms of the title track Bagola, a light-hearted critique of men in Malian society, to the soulful Orpaillage, a song that laments the destruction of land from gold-panning. Orpaillage was in fact composed on the spot in the studio, reflecting the creative chemistry between these three musicians. The musical director of the trio is balafon (xylophone) player Lassana Diabaté, born in Guinea into a well-known family of balafon musicians. His remarkable dexterity on the balafon earned him a place in Toumani Diabaté"s Symmetric Orchestra, and later on in the group Afrocubism (featuring Eliades Ochoa). He has collaborated with many musicians, including bluesman Taj Mahal on the album Kulanjan. With two balafons of 22 rosewood keys each, tuned to play chromatic scales, Lassana Diabaté achieves a perfect balance of rhythm, melody, harmony and virtuosic embellishment. David Harrington, leader of Kronos Quartet, compares him to none other than JS Bach. Underpinning the balafon with compulsive groove, is the large ngoniba, played with brilliant musicality by Madou Kouyaté (son of Bassekou Kouyaté and member of his group Ngoniba). Madou, the youngest member of Trio Da Kali, also adds rich harmonies with his deep breathy voice to the songs. Trio Da Kali were founded in 2013 under the initiative of the Aga Khan Music Programme, with the help of three-times Grammy-nominated music producer Lucy Durán. The Trio first rose to international fame with their sublime album Ladilikan (World Circuit Records 2017), featuring an unprecedented and multi-award-winning collaboration with Kronos Quartet, the legendary classical string quartet from San Francisco. Bagola is a showcase of Trio Da Kali"s entrancing and unique sound, only equaled by their magical performances on stage.

Laurin Rinder & W. Michael Lewis's Seven Deadly Sins is a hugely influential, synth-powered, atmospheric space-disco masterpiece. It's arguably the best American Disco LP ever made. It's certainly one of the most important albums in the history of dance music. And, like its innovative producers, it's absolute genius.

During the mid to late seventies the production team of Laurin Rinder and W. Michael Lewis helped to define the Disco sound that was coming out of Los Angeles with studio projects such as El Coco, Saint Tropez, Le Pamplemousse (with vocals from The Jones Girls), In Search Of Orchestra and many others.

Like all of their work, Seven Deadly Sins comprises beautifully arranged and incredibly well produced deep disco that is revered by aficionados. A seven track, largely instrumental concept album covering each of the sins, it was recorded for AVI in 1977. It's a brilliantly conceived, groove-fuelled album that layers moogy keys and druggy synths over club-ready rhythms. The idea that this record is celebrating rather than condemning the sins is said to be another factor that made the record a big one in the underground clubs.

Opening sin “Lust” is an intense, swelling, seven minute blockbuster synth journey. An ethereal Loft/Garage classic, it's a sprawling, brooding slice of epic dancefloor dynamite that remains a firm favourite of discerning disco heads like Harvey. So ahead of its time, it still sounds ridiculously fresh today, drifting through a multitude of melodies over a smooth, lightly percussive mid-tempo beat. A slow-mo sexy killer.

Up next, the sprightly-manic “Sloth” is nothing like its title. A driving, swaggering instrumental incorporating the same Euro-disco elements as our Daft Parisian friends did a few decades on, it's certainly not for the faint-hearted.

A clear highlight, the cosmic, throbbing proto-techno of “Gluttony” gets things firmly back on track. Pure industrial vibes with dark synth bass punctuated by uplifting melodic sequences that brilliantly utilise guitar and horns, is this the sound of Wax! Trax being born? You won't be able to get enough of this.

Opening up the B-Side, “Pride” is a breezy slice of classic late seventies jazz/funk with deft Hammond and clavinet grooves and expansive horn sections. It's absolutely fantastic. The wicked leftfield vocal cut “Envy” provides more disco pump with squelchy acid synth flourishes, funky guitar and neck-snapping percussive breaks.

The dark proto-techno/house cut “Anger” is a fully on top tour de force of drums. With heavy African percussion throughout and a short Afrobeat section towards the end, it was sampled by Carl Craig and Laurent Garnier for their Tres Demented project and was also a massive Ron Hardy / Music Box favourite. The album is rounded out by the hard-grooving “Covetousness”, another driving jazz-funk workout par excellence with liberal use of the syndrum.

As Laurin Rinder recalled in an interview with Dream Chimney, the duo essentially lived in the studio: “we really had cots, beds and the whole thing, we were just pumpin’ them out. 7 days a week, 3 different projects at the same time. I played drums on everything but had to play a little differently. I had to ask the engineer ‘What’s the name of this group?‘”.

Evidently, their prolific output was the result of a crazy cocaine-fuelled production schedule: “The amount of coke we did, to do all this, you can’t even imagine. $300 a day. I had to have plastic inserts in my nose so I could do more.” Looking at the frankly terrifying cover, you'd have never known!

Be With is beyond delighted to present the first ever legit vinyl reissue of Seven Deadly Sins, carefully remastered by Be With's engineer Simon Francisco to ensure it sounds better than ever. Cicely Balston's expert skills have made sure nothing is lost in the cut whilst the records have been pressed to the highest possible standard at Record Industry in Holland. The unforgettable cover artwork has been reproduced here at Be With - dare you stare back at it for too long?

Produced by Grammy Nominated producer Leon Michels (El Michels Affair, Clairo). Big Crown Records is proud to present Derya Yıldırım & Grup Şimşek’s latest album Yarın Yoksa. The show stopping intensity of Derya backed by the psychedelic soul of Grup Şimşek with production by Leon Michels has yielded a stand out record that challenges genre with a broad appeal and a powerful message. They refer to themselves as “outernational” over international as they say it suggests a sound that’s more inclusive or “beyond borders.” Derya, who sings and plays the bağlama, is German born to Turkish parents. Drummer Helen Wells is Berlin-based by way of South Africa while keyboard player Graham Mushnik and guitar/bass player Antonin Voyant are both French. The collective influences they bring to Anatolian music make for a completely unique and fresh sound that both pushes the genre forward and champions its rich heritage. Yarın Yoksa which translates to If There Is No Tomorrow delves into deeply personal pain and collective resistance with a central thread of loss, longing, and hope for change running throughout. The lyrics are poetic and rely heavily on symbolic language, metaphors, and storytelling while the music shifts track to track making each tune stand out on its own but work together perfectly as an album. “Cool Hand”, the first single released on Big Crown in September of 2024, is a beautiful juxtaposition of intensity and light-heartedness over a thoroughly infectious groove. The message is poetic and complicated, repeatedly declaring “I love you, I’m crazy about you” but ultimately finding a sense of peace through accepting a broken heart. “Direne Direne” is a protest song that embodies the struggle and tireless pursuit of justice encouraging people to resist oppression. Derya’s lyrics soar over the psych-soul musical backdrop as her story of personal struggle transforms to a universal call for resilience and strength. The slow and weighty vibe of “Yakamoz” lets onto the meaning of the lyrics even to those who don’t understand Turkish. It is a deeply moving song that captures the profound emotions connected to displacement and loss without knowing if you will ever return. The steady groove of the band, along with the anguished vocals paint a vivid picture of the devastation experienced by the protagonist who ultimately realizes that her roots are within her and anywhere she goes is her home. Nine of the tunes on the album are original compositions but they also take on three Anatollian folk songs with their own inimitable approach. The acapella introduction of “Misket”, a folk song from Ankara/Türkiye, will stop you in your tracks. The tune deals with death and how the living cope and continue a relationship with those who have passed away. Another traditional tune from Sivas that they put their signature sound to is “Hop Bico”, a tune about a playful character named Bico who is a symbol of vitality and spirit. The synth intro grabs your ear from the first note and the earworm chorus encouraging Bico to lead the group in celebration and embrace life through dance has the same effect on everyone who hears it. The band has taken a big step forward that you can hear on this record. Derya’s passion and authenticity is front and centre and the music is too moving to deny. Yarın Yoksa is sure to captivate the hearts and minds of all those who hear it, and just wait till you hear them play it live… Upcoming Tour Dates (+More To Be Added): 18th March The Deaf Institute, Manchester / 19th The Jam Jar, Bristol / 20th Scala, London / 21st Norwich Arts Centre.

Produced by Grammy Nominated producer Leon Michels (El Michels Affair, Clairo). Big Crown Records is proud to present Derya Yıldırım & Grup Şimşek’s latest album Yarın Yoksa. The show stopping intensity of Derya backed by the psychedelic soul of Grup Şimşek with production by Leon Michels has yielded a stand out record that challenges genre with a broad appeal and a powerful message. They refer to themselves as “outernational” over international as they say it suggests a sound that’s more inclusive or “beyond borders.” Derya, who sings and plays the bağlama, is German born to Turkish parents. Drummer Helen Wells is Berlin-based by way of South Africa while keyboard player Graham Mushnik and guitar/bass player Antonin Voyant are both French. The collective influences they bring to Anatolian music make for a completely unique and fresh sound that both pushes the genre forward and champions its rich heritage. Yarın Yoksa which translates to If There Is No Tomorrow delves into deeply personal pain and collective resistance with a central thread of loss, longing, and hope for change running throughout. The lyrics are poetic and rely heavily on symbolic language, metaphors, and storytelling while the music shifts track to track making each tune stand out on its own but work together perfectly as an album. “Cool Hand”, the first single released on Big Crown in September of 2024, is a beautiful juxtaposition of intensity and light-heartedness over a thoroughly infectious groove. The message is poetic and complicated, repeatedly declaring “I love you, I’m crazy about you” but ultimately finding a sense of peace through accepting a broken heart. “Direne Direne” is a protest song that embodies the struggle and tireless pursuit of justice encouraging people to resist oppression. Derya’s lyrics soar over the psych-soul musical backdrop as her story of personal struggle transforms to a universal call for resilience and strength. The slow and weighty vibe of “Yakamoz” lets onto the meaning of the lyrics even to those who don’t understand Turkish. It is a deeply moving song that captures the profound emotions connected to displacement and loss without knowing if you will ever return. The steady groove of the band, along with the anguished vocals paint a vivid picture of the devastation experienced by the protagonist who ultimately realizes that her roots are within her and anywhere she goes is her home. Nine of the tunes on the album are original compositions but they also take on three Anatollian folk songs with their own inimitable approach. The acapella introduction of “Misket”, a folk song from Ankara/Türkiye, will stop you in your tracks. The tune deals with death and how the living cope and continue a relationship with those who have passed away. Another traditional tune from Sivas that they put their signature sound to is “Hop Bico”, a tune about a playful character named Bico who is a symbol of vitality and spirit. The synth intro grabs your ear from the first note and the earworm chorus encouraging Bico to lead the group in celebration and embrace life through dance has the same effect on everyone who hears it. The band has taken a big step forward that you can hear on this record. Derya’s passion and authenticity is front and centre and the music is too moving to deny. Yarın Yoksa is sure to captivate the hearts and minds of all those who hear it, and just wait till you hear them play it live… Upcoming Tour Dates (+More To Be Added): 18th March The Deaf Institute, Manchester / 19th The Jam Jar, Bristol / 20th Scala, London / 21st Norwich Arts Centre.

Produced by Grammy Nominated producer Leon Michels (El Michels Affair, Clairo). Big Crown Records is proud to present Derya Yıldırım & Grup Şimşek’s latest album Yarın Yoksa. The show stopping intensity of Derya backed by the psychedelic soul of Grup Şimşek with production by Leon Michels has yielded a stand out record that challenges genre with a broad appeal and a powerful message. They refer to themselves as “outernational” over international as they say it suggests a sound that’s more inclusive or “beyond borders.” Derya, who sings and plays the bağlama, is German born to Turkish parents. Drummer Helen Wells is Berlin-based by way of South Africa while keyboard player Graham Mushnik and guitar/bass player Antonin Voyant are both French. The collective influences they bring to Anatolian music make for a completely unique and fresh sound that both pushes the genre forward and champions its rich heritage. Yarın Yoksa which translates to If There Is No Tomorrow delves into deeply personal pain and collective resistance with a central thread of loss, longing, and hope for change running throughout. The lyrics are poetic and rely heavily on symbolic language, metaphors, and storytelling while the music shifts track to track making each tune stand out on its own but work together perfectly as an album. “Cool Hand”, the first single released on Big Crown in September of 2024, is a beautiful juxtaposition of intensity and light-heartedness over a thoroughly infectious groove. The message is poetic and complicated, repeatedly declaring “I love you, I’m crazy about you” but ultimately finding a sense of peace through accepting a broken heart. “Direne Direne” is a protest song that embodies the struggle and tireless pursuit of justice encouraging people to resist oppression. Derya’s lyrics soar over the psych-soul musical backdrop as her story of personal struggle transforms to a universal call for resilience and strength. The slow and weighty vibe of “Yakamoz” lets onto the meaning of the lyrics even to those who don’t understand Turkish. It is a deeply moving song that captures the profound emotions connected to displacement and loss without knowing if you will ever return. The steady groove of the band, along with the anguished vocals paint a vivid picture of the devastation experienced by the protagonist who ultimately realizes that her roots are within her and anywhere she goes is her home. Nine of the tunes on the album are original compositions but they also take on three Anatollian folk songs with their own inimitable approach. The acapella introduction of “Misket”, a folk song from Ankara/Türkiye, will stop you in your tracks. The tune deals with death and how the living cope and continue a relationship with those who have passed away. Another traditional tune from Sivas that they put their signature sound to is “Hop Bico”, a tune about a playful character named Bico who is a symbol of vitality and spirit. The synth intro grabs your ear from the first note and the earworm chorus encouraging Bico to lead the group in celebration and embrace life through dance has the same effect on everyone who hears it. The band has taken a big step forward that you can hear on this record. Derya’s passion and authenticity is front and centre and the music is too moving to deny. Yarın Yoksa is sure to captivate the hearts and minds of all those who hear it, and just wait till you hear them play it live… Upcoming Tour Dates (+More To Be Added): 18th March The Deaf Institute, Manchester / 19th The Jam Jar, Bristol / 20th Scala, London / 21st Norwich Arts Centre.

Kneading dough is tricky – you should know how it’s supposed to feel. If you try too hard you could make it worse. It’s a beautiful practice – creation with a gentle touch, to work at something so it can be left alone. “If it’s too drawn out it’s awful. It’s easy to give too much.” Dance in the mirror. Contemplate your veiny hands. Who do they remind you of?

You begin by mixing flour and water. “What happens when your people die? Why’d they move the rock to the other side of Ulster Park?” Eliza Niemi asks two seemingly unrelated questions in a rising melody with guitar accompaniment, like fingers playing spider up to the nape of your neck. Gentle pressure. Strands of gluten form to bind the mix. A new question lingers in the binding. When she admits “but I don’t know how to tell if I’m feeling it or not,” that question surfaces through the text. It is reiterated throughout the album. When I’m working with dough I think the same thing to myself.

On Progress Bakery, her second album as a solo artist, Eliza knows to leave some questions alone – to let juxtaposition and tension be the proof. It doesn’t have to be hard. The feelings and revelations they provoke rise in the heat. The smell is sweet. Crispy on the outside and soft all the way through. She playfully slip-slides through words and sounds and images, delighting in surprise, skimming ideas like stones cast across clear water, touching down briefly with uncommon grace.

The question provoked between those opening lines resurfaces in the strands between songs – “Do U FM” is fully formed and beautifully layered, while “Novelist Sad Face” is a short, acapella rendering of gentle curiosity. What is holding these ideas together? Some songs demand more, seem to carry a whole load – eventually the skipping stone will halt to sink and resume its idle duty – while others drift in and out of focus, the way thoughts and dreams become interwoven before the mind is sunk into true sleep.

Music and words don’t always have to interact. Where she decides to keep them apart gives a new contour to where and how she puts them together. The kind of thing you’re supposed to take for granted with songs and their singers comes alive in Eliza’s hands – the little miracle of mixing, kneading, stretching, and stopping.

So often on Progress Bakery, Eliza teases out truth and meaning by asking questions. “Do I wanna be crying?” “Do you want me good or do you want me bad?” “Do I need an eye test?” “I’m writing songs in my head while you’re going over stuff with me — is that cruel??” In “Pocky” Eliza ends with a question that feels to me like the actual biography, succinct and revealing:

I don’t wanna be made to see
I just wanna ask “what’s that?”

Grace that ought to be rare, but in its care and precision is offered humbly, with great generosity, and without announcing itself. Eliza’s simple, miraculous music is given further form and shape by a group of collaborators – invaluable guest musicians Jeremy Ray, Evan Cartwright, Steven McPhail, Kenny Boothby, Ed Squires, Carolina Chauffe, Dorothea Paas, Louie Short, and Avalon Tassonyi. Together with Louie Short, who recorded, mixed, and produced the album along with Jeremy Ray and Lukas Cheung, Eliza has cultivated a richness in sound and texture that prods and provokes the ticklish ear. Barely audible guitar tinkering, a brief lo-fi field recording of trumpets, the harmonic clicking of a looped synthesizer, a flourish of reeds, a child’s conversation, each uncanny sound perfectly placed, rippling out under a soft breeze.

Lay in bed alone at night and ask aloud to the stillness,

“What were you doing at the Albuquerque Airport?
What were you doing there??”

And hear your question answered by a dream of swelling, undulating cellos. Try to grasp at the melody and structure. It’s not an answer (if there could be one), but it moves deeper, closer to the weird layer of fleeting moments and disconnected images, barely perceptible at its core. Wait for the dream reel to click into place.

Eliza took me for a ride in Nicole (her beloved Dodge Grand Caravan) and told me she’d been thinking of the album as an embodiment of transition – and I think every transition, known or unknown, carries the weight of new meaning, skittering off the surface tension of life as you know it, creating ripples, sometimes bouncing off and sometimes breaking through. There is a trick you can use to tell if a dough is glutinous enough. You’re supposed to stretch it out as thin as you can without breaking it and hold it up to the light. If you can see through, even if it renders the world murky and uncertain, you should leave it alone. I love this trick. It’s one that Eliza seems to know intuitively: work gently and ask questions and don’t always expect answers, and when you can, take a glimpse at something new, and then leave.

"Float like a butterfly and sting like a bee" said the famous boxer Mohammed Ali, in reference to his legendary strike. This punchline also works wonderfully in music, listening to Roseaux's third album. A French success story, created with all modesty and honesty by the Parisian trio: Emile Omar, Alex Finkin and Clément Petit.

The three musketeers of sound cultivate their know-how, now acclaimed by critics and an ever-growing audience since their first project in 2012. It took them time to take a step back and gain perspective in order to offer us a return that is both joyful and resounding.

Roseaux takes root on the banks of soul, folk, jazz, and songs from all eras, a cascade of inexhaustible sounds, where the three composers draw their inspiration and merge their experiences.

The leaves of Roseaux soar to the breath of wonderful voices, chosen with precision by the three friends, like that of the American singer Aloe Blacc, present since the beginning of the adventure, essential enchanter of the three episodes.

Conceived as a dreamlike escapade full of emotions, on the fringes of the massive, instantaneous and often disembodied production, Roseaux is a totally artisanal group, a sort of UFO in the French musical landscape, which operates on instinct and above all on desire.

Thus, Roseaux has become an expert in bringing together, for the duration of a record, the artists who specifically form the DNA of their host: captivating voices, a plot on the piano and cello, but also encounters and reunions, in a poetic and deliberately nebulous universe.

A welcoming nebula, where the listener is invited to listen and immerse themselves without hindrance, in a luxuriant, wild, exciting sound forest. This third album is the work of 3 music lovers, capable of switching roles: writing, arrangements, production, from which emerge this time, eleven tracks with chiseled melodies including three colorful and unusual instrumentals.

A journey between melancholy and euphoria, which led Roseaux to the ends of the planet, from the Caribbean to Europe via Africa to unearth other vibrations and unique performers: the captivating Grenadian-British singer Ala.ni, the little English afropop prince from Ghana, Ghetto Boy, and the disturbing Swedish Isabel Sörling, sign here a first flamboyant collaboration with the group.

While the talented Haitian-Canadian Mélissa Laveaux, the hypnotic Scandinavian singer Olle Nyman, the sparkling French-Canadian Anna Majidson and our remarkable national Ben, already present on the second part, still manage to create a surprise by revealing new aspects of their range.

Roseaux's voices are decidedly impenetrable and its magic is renewed today by making the strength of all these scintillating elements dialogue, to be discovered in a setting of softness and voluptuousness.

Nature is full of reeds, this one is unique.

compiled by tsunaki kadowaki
artwork by yoshirotten
mastering by kuniyuki takahashi

Tsunaki Kadowaki, a staff member at Kyoto’s record store Meditations, the supervisor of "New Age Music Disc Guide", and the founder of Sad Disco, curates the fourth installment of "Midnight in Tokyo" themed around Ambient Kayō.

The Midnight in Tokyo series by Studio Mule focuses on Japanese music, serving as a soundtrack for Tokyo nights—whether for home listening, club play, or as a driving BGM, transcending location and space. After a six-year hiatus, the fourth volume takes "Ambient Kayō" as its new perspective, compiling genre-defying tracks released between 1977 and 1999 to explore the intersection of Japanese ambient and pop music.

For this long-awaited fourth installment, selections were made regardless of record label status (major or independent), era, format (vinyl or CD), original release price, or prior reissues. Instead, the focus was on music that deeply moves the listener, is open-minded and evocative, brims with inspiration and spiritual insight, and embodies the "utagokoro" (singing heart) of Japanese artists.

Opening the compilation is "Umi e Kinasai" by Yōsui Inoue, a legendary Japanese singer-songwriter whose works have recently gained renewed interest as hidden gems of Walearic and ambient pop

Composed and arranged by Katsu Hoshi—who is also known for his arrangements on Inoue’s masterpiece Ice World—the track features renowned players such as Masayoshi Takanaka, Hiroki Inui, and Shigeru Inoue. The song embodies a yearning for Balearic horizons, tinged with youthful vibrancy and sentimentality.

Next, "Oritatamu Umi", compiled from Keiko Nosaka, a 20-string koto player, and George Murasaki, a pioneer of Okinawan rock, is an instrumental track from their album "Niraikanai Requiem 1945". As the title suggests, it carries themes of requiem and remembrance, conveying poetic lyricism even without words. Blending Ryukyuan/Okinawan harmonies and indigenous elements, it unfolds as an intimate and nostalgic piece of progressive rock.

Also featured is "Natsu no Kowareru Koro" by Higurashi, a folk-rock band led by Seiichi Takeda, formerly a guitarist of The Remainders of The Clover, the predecessor of RC Succession. Like the opening track "Umi e Kinasai", this song was also produced by Katsu Hoshi. It stands as a folk/new music piece that takes a step into an "otherworldly" realm, recommended for fans of Twin Cosmos and Masumi Hara.

From the enigmatic Blue, the only work left by the mysterious composer S.R. Kinoshita, comes "Mangrove", a hidden treasure of Japan's ambient/new age scene from the CD era. With an oriental and enigmatic atmosphere, the track evokes a mystical world of deep, uncharted jungles, unfolding as an otherworldly New Age Kayō.

"Yaponesia Sakura", selected from Rehabilual’s sole album New Child, is a masterpiece of Japanese new age music. Produced by Swami Dhyan Akamo, a disciple of Indian meditation teacher Osho and a renowned balafon player, the track features Michio Ogawa (Chakra) and Atsuo Fujimoto (Colored Music). Their collective artistry creates an exquisite spiritual ambient pop sound.

"Asa no Hitoshizuku", the opening folk song from Sachiko Kanenobu’s album Sachiko, is also included. Known for her legendary folk album Misora, produced by Haruomi Hosono, Kanenobu’s fourth album after resuming her career was inspired by her experiences living in San Francisco and revolves around the theme of "love." This track carries the same intimate poetic world as Misora, imbued with a pure, crystalline innocence.

From the synth-pop band E.S. Island, known for the Haruomi Hosono-produced *Teku Teku Mami", comes "Yume Fūrin ", selected from their long-lost new age classic Nanpū from Hachijo. Created while the band’s core duo was living in Hachijō Island, the album aimed to sonically capture "the high and happy vibrations of everyday island life." This track offers a dynamic, tribal-infused New Age Kayō experience.

Dubbed "the world's first Min’yō House Mix" "Esashi Oiwake (Maeuta) " comes from Kanazawa Akiko HOUSE MIX Ⅰ, a collaboration between Japanese house music pioneer Soichi Terada and Akiko Kanazawa, a renowned min’yō singer. Through the prism of club music, Hokkaido's Esashi Oiwake, one of Japan’s most iconic folk songs, is transformed into a futuristic ambient pop piece with intricate sound design.

The compilation also includes "Sweet Ong Choh", a track from Voice From Asia, a group active between 1989 and 1992 featuring vocal artist Shizuru Ohtaka. Taken from their imaginative minimal work Voice From Asia, released under Aoyama Spiral’s music label Newsic, the song presents a tranquil, tribal-minimal soundscape enriched by ethnic instruments.

Hailed by Haruomi Hosono as having “a shaman residing in her voice,” singer-songwriter Nami Hōdatsu also appears in the selection. Known for her collaborations with Henry Kawahara, her debut album featured "Asa-Hikari-Ame-Yume", a track that now stands as a precursor to modern vocaloid/synthesized vocal music—a hidden gem of post-choir aesthetics that deserves rediscovery.

Likewise, "Tennessee Waltz", from Naomi Akimoto’s album One Night Stand, supported by members of Mariah, serves as another early prototype of vocaloid/synthesized vocal music. The track weaves fragmented vocal samples, pastoral yet sweetly minimal synth sounds, and mechanical beats into a strikingly unconventional piece in the history of Japanese music.

Closing the compilation is "Heaven Electric", a track from Nav Katze’s album Gentle & Elegance, which featured remixes by Autechre, Seefeel, and Sun Electric. Merging elements of IDM, ambient techno, and chillout, the song embodies an optimism reminiscent of space music while seamlessly blending a mystical Japanese aesthetic—an ambient pop masterpiece.

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The album presents 12 exquisite pop tracks infused with an ambient feeling, resonating deeply with the evolving landscape of the mid-2020s—a time of post-hyperpop and Y2K revival.

Tsunaki Kadowaki (Compiler)

Born in 1993 in Yonago, Tottori, Tsunaki Kadowaki is a staff member and buyer at Kyoto’s Meditations record store. He is the editor of New Age Music Disc Guide (DU BOOKS) and a contributor to Music Magazine, Record Collectors' Magazine, ele-king, and more. Kadowaki has written liner notes for multiple Japanese releases (Brian Eno, Masahiro Sugaya etc.) and runs the Sad Disco music label under Disk Union. He also curates Spotify’s official New Age Music playlist and performed as a DJ at YCAM’s Audio Base Camp #3 in 2024.