Suche:the young p

Having spent their formative years in São Paulo Brazil, as a teenager, Lau Ro found themself uprooted from their home. Moving with their family to Europe in search of a better quality of life, their story was like that of many immigrants in the same position. Lau Ro's parents found work in factories and cleaning jobs, for the first few years in the North of Italy and then in Brighton on England's Southern coast. "We never managed to visit back home, so my connection to Brazil became largely made up of childhood memories and my fascination with all the 60s and 70s music I could find from there."

In Brighton, the young non-binary singer and composer would immerse themself amongst the city's vanguard of free-thinking artists and musicians. Lau Ro formed Wax Machine whose prefigurative, psychedelic community provided a glimmer of countercultural hope amid a backdrop of national political decline. From 2020-23, Wax Machine birthed three cult-favourite albums in as many years; indebted in part to their British psychedelic forebears from progressive folk, rock and jazz yore. But the kernel of Lau's Brazilian sound was already beginning to blossom across Wax Machine's releases. Now, taking root deeper still, Lau Ro steps forward with their debut album: Cabana.

Named after the small wood cabin at the bottom of their garden where the album was recorded, Cabana is a deeply personal record of memory, self-discovery and imagination. Melancholy and hope combine across ten tracks of dreamy bossa, ambient folk, fuzzy tropicalia and majestic MPB. The music is swathed in masterful string arrangements and trippy electronics in equal part, while Lau Ro's delicate, yet quietly confident voice takes acerbic aim (in both English and Portuguese) at polluted city life, while dreaming of a utopia, rich with nature and wildlife.

Like the musical equivalent of semantic drift, Lau Ro's displacement led to the creation of another Brazil. A mythic place in Lau's soul, as they put it, "where the sunshine and joy of my childhood remained untapped." Lau continues: "It's music that might sound as if it came out of a parallel universe Brazil, rather than its modern day landscape. I am nowadays rediscovering Brazil, going back as often as I can and trying to stay connected to these different parts of the world and myself."

Noisy (Rockin') Hardcore / Punk outfit VAUTOURS is now closing its EP Trilogy with their most mature, hybrid and tortured work to date : "LIVE FOREVER".

Adding distorted "pop" ingredients in their crude and strange Noise recipe, VAUTOURS gathers late 90's / early 2000's Noise Rock, Crust / Hardcore, Post-Rock and "metallic" Punk influences, blending Unwound and McLusky, Cult Leader and Young Widows into something hyper-versatile, silly-serious... And radically unique.

Plunge into this crude yet sparkling, bittersweet love letter now.
Cause you won't Live Forever (but you'll get what you want).

HAIL THE QUEEN, LIVE FOREVER !

2024 Reissue

The syndicate manifests its sonic potential in full glory. Giving rise to this collection of colossal heavyweights, Sentry demonstrates its spotless record of selecting certified heavyweights for the discography once again, twenty-fold. Stepping into the ring are some of the scene's most prolific artists alongside a plethora of promising, choice newcomers.

Boasting more than an hour of supercharged sound system pressure with names like Caspa, Truth, Bukez Finezt, Nomine and Youngsta himself on the controls - the subsequent inferno proves to be an authoritative display of quality bass music, that is sure to reach roaring stacks of speakers all around the globe for years to come."

"Vintage flavours transmute into fiery low-end excursions in 'Sun Ra' as Onhell reigns with fire and brimstone and makes way for what's to come. Rolling on, Taso lays waste with dimly lit half-time flows as we enter the smoke-filled mansion of Argo's meticulously crafted 'Since Then' - a prime cut of hip-hop infused breakbeats and bass.

Abstrakt Sonance & Substance set the heater into overdrive and blunts aflame as we proceed into the shelling of 207's 'Gypsy Dub' - then promptly being crunched to bits by 'Crocodile' - encapsulating Dayzero's cold-blooded dance floor armaments. Brace yourself for battle as we step to the drums of Caspa's tribal warfare, full-frontal assault engineered for the club.

Unrestrained power surges propelling us onwards in Coltcut & Ourman's decidedly high-grade collaboration as listeners march through Khiva's haunting sound system belter 'Teeth' and a zealous dosage of Dubstep as envisioned by Truth. Led through eerie alleys and pressure-ridden environments with LSN on the buttons, the onslaught proceeds with the relentlessly driving 'R U Broke' in Mr. K's signature style.

Opus merciless injects straight fury in an auditory form in the spiked 'Lime Pickle' - Bukez Finezt keeping pace with a murderous Cembalo-ridden thug anthem, lunacy! Minimal instrumentation to its fullest effect, Sukh Knight's 'Modulate' keeps it spicy - as does the claustrophobic sub-bass chiming by Leftlow. Thanom ignites what's left of the residual air in 'Tumble It' - dangerous goods.

The subsequent time bomb armed by A:Grade & Feonix, cast into the abyss that is Nomine's space-bending 'Judas' - big speaker business. The clock strikes its final hour - Youngsta & Cimm finish off the survivors with a no-holds-barred showdown, the 'Last Judgement' executing its massive verdict.

The 24 songs on this double album are in some ways a completion. Together with Young Man Songs here are nearly all the songs Kerry Lee Crabbe and Daryl Runswick wrote (and Daryl sang) which are good enough to be issued. The subject matter here is wider ranging than on Young Man Songs:love songs, but also family, heroes and antiheroes, zen, celebration, nostalgia, philosophy, life and death.

Daryl Runswick writes: "I first set Kerry Lee Crabbe's words to music in 1967; for the last time in 2010. Our most prolific period was 1970-1980 during which time we had considerable success as a songwriting team, though we didn't have big hits. The pinnacle for us was when Cleo Laine recorded a whole album of our songs (One More Day: well worth looking out for on vinyl or CD). There are a number of reasons for our lack of hits: songwriting was for neither of us our main job - not 'the principal source of his revenue' as Paul Simon put it (One Trick Pony) - we did it in our spare time. Also, neither of us had any interest in being an entrepreneur, nor did we employ a manager to push the songs; also, perhaps we were snobs who disdained moneygrubbing; but perhaps the main reason was that these are art songs: art songs in the style of pop music, yes, but not aimed (other than tangentially) at the commercial market.

We'd have loved to have hits but that's not why we did it and we didn't bother overmuch flogging our wares around. Kerry and I were introduced to one another as undergraduates at Cambridge University. Kerry had written the book and lyrics for a musical (Someone is Squeaking) and I was instructed by Clive James, then President of the Footlights Club where I was Musical Director, to compose the songs. It was put on at the Edinburgh Festival Fringe in 1967 with Julie Covington in the lead role. Kerry directed and I was musical director, playing piano in the accompanying trio. After that summer I went down to London to be a jazz bass player while Kerry had a further year at Trinity College, Cambridge. After he came down, we got together again and continued making songs."

Camelot, the legendary seat of King Arthur's court in Early Middle Ages Britain, was probably not a real place. A corruption of the name of a real Romano-Briton city, the word "Camelot" accumulated symbolic, mythic resonances over centuries, until achieving its present usage as a near-synonym of "utopia." In the mid-20th century alone, Camelot inspired an explosion of representations and appropriations, among them the violent, affectless Arthurian court of Robert Bresson's 1974 film Lancelot du Lac and the absurdist iteration of Monty Python's 1975 Holy Grail, both of which feature armored knights erupting into fountains of blood; the mystical Welsh world of novelist John Cowper Powys's profoundly weird 1951 novel Porius, with its Roman cults, wizards and witches, and wanton giants; and the nationalist nostalgia of President John F. Kennedy's White House. Unsurprisingly there are fewer Camelots in more recent memory. Camelot, Canadian songwriter Jennifer Castle's extraordinary, moving 2024 chronicle of the artist in early middle age, charts a realer, more rooted, and more metaphorical place than the fabled Camelot of the Early Middle Ages (or its myriad depictions), but it too is a space more psychic than physical. In Castle's Camelot, the fantastic interpenetrates the mundane, and the Grail, if there is one, distills everyday experience into art and art into faith, subliming terrestrial concerns into sublime celestial prayers to Mother Nature, and to the unfolding process of perfecting imperfection in one's own nature. Co-produced by Jennifer and longtime collaborator Jeff McMurrich, her seventh record is at once her most monumental and unguarded to date, demonstrating a mastery of rendering her verse and melodies alike with crisply poignant economy. For all their pointedly plainspoken lyrical detail and exhilarating full-band musical flourishes, these songs sound inevitable, eternal as morning devotions. "Back in Camelot," she sings on the lilting, vulnerable title track, "I really learned a lot / circles in the crops and / sky-high geometry." The album opens with a candid admission of sleeping "in the unfinished basement," an embarrassing joke that comes true. But the dreamer is redeemed by dreaming, setting sail in her airborne bed above "sirens and desert deities." If she questions her own agency_whether she is "wishing stones were standing" or just "pissing in the wind"_it does not diminish the ineffable existential jolt of such signs and wonders. This abiding tension between belief and doubt, magic and pragmatism, self and other, sacred and profane, and even, arguably, paganism and monotheism, suffuses these ten songs, which limn an interior landscape shot through with sunstriped shadows of "multi-felt dimensions" both mystical and quotidian. The epic scale and transport of "Camelot," with its swooning strings, gives way dramatically to "Some Friends," an acoustic-guitar-and-vocals meditation in miniature on Janus-faced friends and the lunar and solar temperatures of their promises_"bright and beaming verses" versus hot curses_which recalls her minimalist last album, 2020's achingly intimate Monarch Season. (In a symmetrical sequencing gesture, the penultimate track, the incantatory "Earthsong," bookends the central six with a similarly spare solo performance and coiled chord progression, this time an ambiguous appeal to _ a wounded lover? a wounded saint? our wounded planet?) Those whom "Trust" accuses of treacherous oaths spit through "gilded and golden tooth"_cynics, critics, hypocrites, gurus, scientists, doctors, lovers, government, the so-called entertainment industry_sow uncertainty that can infect the artist, as in "Louis": "What's that dance / and can it be done? What's that song / and can it be sung?" Answering affirmatively are "Lucky #8," an irrepressible ode to dancing as a bulwark against the "tidal pools of pain" and the "theory of collapse," and "Full Moon in Leo," which finds the narrator dancing around the house with a broom, wearing nothing but her underwear and "big hair." But the central question remains: who can we trust, and at what cost faith, in art or angels or otherwise? Castle's confidence in her collaborators is the cornerstone of Camelot. Carl Didur (piano and keys), Evan Cartwright (drums and percussion), and steadfast sideman Mike Smith (bass) comprise a rhythm section of exquisite delicacy and depth. This fundamental trio anchors the airiness of regular backing vocalists Victoria Cheong and Isla Craig and frames the guitars of Castle, McMurrich, and Paul Mortimer (and on "Lucky #8," special guest Cass McCombs). Reprising his decennial role on Castle's beloved 2014 Pink City, Owen Pallett arranged the strings for Estonia's FAMES Skopje Studio Orchestra. On the ravishing country-soul ballad "Blowing Kisses"_Pallett's crowning achievement here, which can be heard in its entirety in the penultimate episode of the third season of FX's The Bear_Jennifer contemplates time and presence, love and prayer_and how songwriting and poetry both manifest and limit all four dimensions: "No words to fumble with / I'm not a beggar to language any longer." Such rare moments of speechlessness_"I'm so fucking honoured," she bluntly proclaims_suggest a state "only a god could come up with." (If Camelot affirms Castle as one of the great song-poets of her generation, she is not immune to the despairing linguistic beggary that plagues all writers.) Camelot evinces a thoroughgoing faith not only in the natural world_including human bodies, which can, miraculously, dance and swim and bleed and embrace and birth_but also in our interpretations of and interventions in it: the "charts and diagrams" of "Lucky #8," a daydreamt billboard on Fairfax Ave. in LA in "Full Moon in Leo," the bloody invocations of the organ-stained "Mary Miracle," and all manner of water worship, rivers in particular. (Notably, Jennifer has worked as a farmer and a doula.) The album ends with "Fractal Canyon"'s repeated, exalted insistence that she's "not alone here." But where is here? The word "utopia" itself constitutes a pun, indicating in its ambiguous first syllable both the Greek "eutopia," or "good-place"_the facet most remembered today_and "outopia," or "no-place," a negative, impossible geography of the mind. Utopia, like its metonym Camelot, is imaginary. Or as fellow Canadian songwriter Neil Young once sang, "Everyone knows this is nowhere." "Can you see how I'd be tempted," Castle asks out of nowhere, held in the mystery, "to pretend I'm not alone and let the memory bend?"

. For Fans Of: The Weather Station, Weyes Blood, Adrianne Lenker, Phoebe Bridgers, Joan Shelley, Lana Del Rey, Cass McCombs, Angel Olsen & Neil Young. Camelot, the legendary seat of King Arthur’s court in Early Middle Ages Britain, was probably not a real place. A corruption of the name of a real Romano-Briton city, the word “Camelot” accumulated symbolic, mythic resonances over centuries, until achieving its present usage as a near-synonym of “utopia.” In the mid-20th century alone, Camelot inspired an explosion of representations and appropriations, among them the violent, affectless Arthurian court of Robert Bresson’s 1974 film Lancelot du Lac and the absurdist iteration of Monty Python’s 1975 Holy Grail, both of which feature armoured knights erupting into fountains of blood; the mystical Welsh world of novelist John Cowper Powys’s profoundly weird 1951 novel Porius, with its Roman cults, wizards and witches, and wanton giants; and the nationalist nostalgia of President John F. Kennedy’s White House. Unsurprisingly there are fewer Camelots in more recent memory. Camelot, Canadian songwriter Jennifer Castle’s extraordinary, moving 2024 chronicle of the artist in early middle age, charts a realer, more rooted, and more metaphorical place than the fabled Camelot of the Early Middle Ages (or its myriad depictions), but it too is a space more psychic than physical. In Castle’s Camelot, the fantastic interpenetrates the mundane, and the Grail, if there is one, distills everyday experience into art and art into faith, subliming terrestrial concerns into sublime celestial prayers to Mother Nature, and to the unfolding process of perfecting imperfection in one’s own nature. Co-produced by Jennifer and longtime collaborator Jeff McMurrich, her seventh record is at once her most monumental and unguarded to date, demonstrating a mastery of rendering her verse and melodies alike with crisply poignant economy. For all their pointedly plainspoken lyrical detail and exhilarating full-band musical flourishes, these songs sound inevitable, eternal as morning devotions. “Back in Camelot,” she sings on the lilting, vulnerable title track, “I really learned a lot / circles in the crops and / sky-high geometry.” The album opens with a candid admission of sleeping “in the unfinished basement,” an embarrassing joke that comes true. But the dreamer is redeemed by dreaming, setting sail in her airborne bed above “sirens and desert deities.” If she questions her own agency whether she is “wishing stones were standing” or just “pissing in the wind” it does not diminish the ineffable existential jolt of such signs and wonders. This abiding tension between belief and doubt, magic and pragmatism, self and other, sacred and profane, and even, arguably, paganism and monotheism, suffuses these ten songs, which limn an interior landscape shot through with sunstriped shadows of “multi-felt dimensions” both mystical and quotidian. The epic scale and transport of “Camelot,” with its swooning strings, gives way dramatically to “Some Friends,” an acoustic-guitar-and-vocals meditation in miniature on Janus-faced friends and the lunar and solar temperatures of their promises—“bright and beaming verses” versus hot curses which recalls her minimalist last album, 2020’s achingly intimate Monarch Season. (In a symmetrical sequencing gesture, the penultimate track, the incantatory “Earthsong,” bookends the central six with a similarly spare solo performance and coiled chord progression, this time an ambiguous appeal to … a wounded lover? a wounded saint? our wounded planet?). Those whom “Trust” accuses of treacherous oaths spit through “gilded and golden tooth” cynics, critics, hypocrites, gurus, scientists, doctors, lovers, government, the so-called entertainment industry sow uncertainty that can infect the artist, as in “Louis”: “What’s that dance / and can it be done? What’s that song / and can it be sung?” Answering affirmatively are “Lucky #8,” an irrepressible ode to dancing as a bulwark against the “tidal pools of pain” and the “theory of collapse,” and “Full Moon in Leo,” which finds the narrator dancing around the house with a broom, wearing nothing but her underwear and “big hair.” But the central question remains: who can we trust, and at what cost faith, in art or angels or otherwise? Castle’s confidence in her collaborators is the cornerstone of Camelot. Carl Didur (piano and keys), Evan Cartwright (drums and percussion), and steadfast sideman Mike Smith (bass) comprise a rhythm section of exquisite delicacy and depth. This fundamental trio anchors the airiness of regular backing vocalists Victoria Cheong and Isla Craig and frames the guitars of Castle, McMurrich, and Paul Mortimer (and on “Lucky #8,” special guest Cass McCombs). Reprising his decennial role on Castle’s beloved 2014 Pink City, Owen Pallett arranged the strings for Estonia’s FAMES Skopje Studio Orchestra. On the ravishing country-soul ballad “Blowing Kisses” Pallett’s crowning achievement here, which can be heard in its entirety in the penultimate episode of the third season of FX’s The Bear Jennifer contemplates time and presence, love and prayer and how songwriting and poetry both manifest and limit all four dimensions: “No words to fumble with / I’m not a beggar to language any longer.” Such rare moments of speechlessness “I’m so fucking honoured,” she bluntly proclaims suggest a state “only a god could come up with.” (If Camelot affirms Castle as one of the great song-poets of her generation, she is not immune to the despairing linguistic beggary that plagues all writers.) Camelot evinces a thoroughgoing faith not only in the natural world including human bodies, which can, miraculously, dance and swim and bleed and embrace and birth but also in our interpretations of and interventions in it: the “charts and diagrams” of “Lucky #8,” a daydreamt billboard on Fairfax Ave. in LA in “Full Moon in Leo,” the bloody invocations of the organ-stained “Mary Miracle,” and all manner of water worship, rivers in particular. (Notably, Jennifer has worked as a farmer and a doula.) The album ends with “Fractal Canyon”s repeated, exalted insistence that she’s “not alone here.” But where is here? The word “utopia” itself constitutes a pun, indicating in its ambiguous first syllable both the Greek “eutopia,” or “good-place” the facet most remembered today and “outopia,” or “no-place,” a negative, impossible geography of the mind. Utopia, like its metonym Camelot, is imaginary

Just under a year after their acclaimed self-titled debut, dreampop duo deary release a brand new six-track EP – Aurelia – via Sonic Cathedral on November 1. It includes the singles ‘The Moth’, ‘Selene’ and ‘The Drift’ and features Slowdive drummer Simon Scott playing on three songs. It will be available on three different vinyl variants, a CD with three bonus tracks and digitally. It’s a stunning record, which displays a new-found maturity in terms of production as well as musically and lyrically. The band – singer Rebecca ‘Dottie’ Cockram and guitarist/producer Ben Easton – have had to grow up in public since the release of their debut single at the start of 2023, supporting legends such as Slowdive and Cranes and TikTok sensations like Wisp along the way. An aurelian is a rare old term for a lepidopterist – someone who studies and collects moths – derived from the Latin aurelia, meaning chrysalis. The perfect title for an EP which is based around the theme of metamorphosis and change. “It leans on the natural world, the human body, the earth and sky as well as human emotion,” says Ben of how the EP represents physical and metaphysical growth. “Change can be daunting but equally exciting, which is something we’ve come to learn.” “While writing the EP, I found a letter I had written to myself when I was 22,” adds Dottie. “I was fresh out of university and had moved back in with my parents as Covid was in full force. I was uninspired and lost and reaching out to my future self for some hope. It was a physical representation of what can happen in a few years; how much can change and how you never know what’s coming next. “I found it interesting that – at the age of 26 – here I was looking back to my younger self for hope or just some comfort in the fact that things will and do move on. It was important to me to bring both of these versions of myself into the new songs.” “Personally, I had noticed a change in myself; a new level of social anxiety, a strange disassociation to things that once brought me joy as well as negative repetitions in my daily life,” reveals Ben. “I began the year sober which allowed me to finish the writing process as a letter of care to my own mental health. There are motifs throughout the EP – for example the riffs in ‘The Moth’ and ‘The Drift’ being reminiscent of each other – which are like musical reflections of these repeated cycles.” It’s musically where the change deary have undergone is most obvious. ‘The Moth’ mixes howling guitars atop a strident breakbeat making it more Curve than Cocteaus; ‘Selene’ is a slow-building wall of noise; ‘The Drift’ combines a perfect pop melody with an incredible sense of urgency. These three singles are balanced by the brief but beautiful ‘Where You Are’ which leads into the Portishead-style trip-hop of ‘Dream Of Me’. The title track has been a staple of their live sets for about a year as ‘Can’t Sleep Tonight’, but its mix of The Cure circa Disintegration and Mezzanine Massive Attack has grown and evolved so much that they renamed it ‘Aurelia’ as the embodiment of the change they have been through. “We’ve allowed deary to naturally grow over the past year, we didn’t want to force it to take a certain shape or sound,” explains Dottie of the duo’s slow and steady approach. “A lot of the last EP was written by sending ideas back and forth over WhatsApp, but this time we were able to sit in the same room and I think that really shows. We know each other a lot better now as we have experienced this journey together and that benefits the writing process as we are more open with each other and can be vulnerable.” “Aurelia definitely feels a lot more collaborative, more personal and more fully realised than the first EP,” concludes Ben. “It feels like a real document of what has been a very important time in both of our lives. Ironically, the band has changed and matured even more since the recording, so we’re both excited to document the next stage

Philip Clemo’s seventh studio album, Through the Wave of Blue, is a journey through a father’s response to profound adversity. His narratives traverse through fear, darkness and disorientation as his youngest daughter becomes seriously ill, culminating in the eventual light of joy as she recovers.

From the haunting depths of “Stalker” and intensity of “Maze” to the serene “Rest” and celebratory “Dawn, Through the Wave of Blue offers an immersive experience that engages both viscerally and emotionally.

Each composition has its own sonic identity, inviting listeners to delve deep into the intricate dialogues and textures that unfold. Clemo blends complex drones & atmospherics with brass, woodwind, strings, guitar, piano, electronics and hypnotic rhythms to create mesmerising soundscapes that captivate the senses.

2024 Reissue

The music of LSN always has a certain level of grit texture and foreboding. In the background chains drag the drums always contain a certain amount of breaking snap. The sum total though is not a haunting but more of a three dimensional submersion into a rhythmic organisation of these sounds. The work in a way announcing how it’s been made by giving you beds of variant sounds mixed so well that can create your own narrative story to the soundtrack that you’re hearing. That narrative potential is something that marks this album as notable in the electronic music sphere.

Je Te Dis Vous is Patricia Kaas' third studio album, which she released in 1993. After the huge success of her first two albums, Kaas turned to producer Robin Millar, who had worked with Sade and Fine Young Cannibals, for production at Pete Townshend's Eel Pie Studio in London. It established her status as an international star, selling three million copies in over 47 countries. The album features three tracks in English, including a cover of the James Brown song ""It's A Man's World"". Kaas was accompanied by Chris Rea on guitar on the tracks ""Out Of The Rain"" and ""Ceux Qui N'Ont Rien"". The album spawned two singles, including ""Il Me Dit Que Je Suis Belle"", which remains one of her most successful and popular tracks. Je Te Dis Vous is available as a limited edition of 1000(?) individually numbered copies on green coloured vinyl and includes an insert.

Money Jungle was the only trio collaboration of Duke Ellington with Charles Mingus and Max Roach, both youngsters greatly admiring Duke. Ellington himself briefly featured Roach (in 1950) and Mingus (in 1953) in his band, and expressed on multiple occasions his appreciation for Mingus' compositions. Most of the repertoire here was especially composed for the date, while the only old tunes they recorded were "Warm Valley," "Caravan," and "Solitude.

2024 Reissue

Cimm is back on Youngsta's imprint Sentry Records with a heavyweight two track EP. Going from strength to strength in the 140 scene with a couple sound system shakers.

In 1997 a CD compilation called Calambre Techno was released in Spain which included a track called Utopia. Its producers were two Spanish brothers who had been making electronic music since 1991 under the name INTRO. The track of the compilation was a remix of the original included in the Ep Intro - @Utopia from 1994. @UtopiaRemix is a simple but perfect Techno-Trance anthem, Retro-Psychedelic but futuristic, one of those timeless tracks that always sound original despite its 30 years. Now UFC is proud to re-issue this techno-trance gem on vinyl as its eighth release accompanied by remixes from current producers of different visions.

About the remixes; The duo The MFA give us their '94 On The Floor Remix', a perfect “hit” to hear at dawn where they perfectly combine IDM, Indie-House and Experimentalism. Spanish producer Promising/Youngster presents 'Electric Shock Remix', a titanic version of the original remix where powerful Electro rhythms collide with Experimental and Futuristic IDM.

In the case of Brassica we left the way free to experiment with the original remix and he gives us his 'Psytalo Remix', a perfect fusion of Techno, Breaks and Psychedelia, originality in its purest form as this producer has accustomed us to in all his productions. To close the Ep, we find 'FutureCosmicalAscension Mix' by R.I.P. Bestia, truly a different version that is difficult to include in a specific style where the main melody is progressively guided towards a state of euphoria.

Original Track Produced by Intro: Francisco & Nacho Sotomayor. Liscensed with permission of Absolute Ambient (ES) 1994

For their 2nd 12" ONLY CHILD introduces a new sound for a new, fictional neighborhood in Manhattan. ALEX BURKAT with his take on modern deep house alongside KALYPTRA with a unique Ecuador via Philly flavor. The result is an ethereal, body moving soundtrack to walking the streets of NYC in 2024.

2024 Reissue

The second album of songs resulting from the collaboration between Teho Teardo and Blixa Bargeld was released in 2016, three years after the celebrated debut with "Still Smiling". Often the nature of collaborations is fleeting, usually not involving a sequel; in this case, however, we are faced with the evident settling of a bond, human and artistic, that is no longer occasional but has reinvented itself to explore other territories and will not stop there either. The album cover is inspired by the famous 1533 painting by Holbein the Younger, "The Ambassadors": a work celebrating an official visit, a meeting between two friends, the pride of their gazes still strong despite time, distance, despite everything. Teho and Blixa return with an album of new songs, sung in German, English and Italian. "Nerissimo" is the superlative of black in Italian and there is something rather black about the music on this album. Not in the sense of dark, an adjective often used to define certain sounds, but just as it happens with the colour black, which contains all other colours, so this music contains a multitude of possibilities."Nerissimo" is also the title of the track in English that opens the album and closes it, as if between two parentheses, in Italian. A temporal passage between languages that links Rome and Berlin, where the album was recorded, ever more intimately. A crossing of the last three years of work together for Teho and Blixa. This record is also a nocturnal story of apparitions, of colours that disappear from the world just by naming them, of aeroplane flights with the lights off in the cabin, of objects whose symbolism represents the passions and interests of the two artists (starting with the objects reproduced on the cover); a sort of tale through objects, continuous movements and the discovery of sounds, even random ones. Sounds intercepted in the space of these three years and which ended up on the disc as interferences that challenged the structure of some songs, resulting in their adaptation to the invasion of foreign sound bodies. "Nerissimo" does not only contain songs but also features experimental tracks, such as "Ulgæ", in which the lyrics explain, like a subtitle, the sounds that follow one another in a story.

2024 Repress

Errol and Alex Rita’s Touching Bass are proud to present Soon Come; a landmark compilation celebrating the talents of their now intercontinental musical community and an introduction to the wide-spanning sound and feeling of their growing label. 22 original tracks spread across double 12” vinyl and split between 'day' and 'night' moods, creating exciting connections between music for both the home and the eclectic sounds of their much-loved dancefloor.

Over the past six years, Touching Bass have steadily established themselves as one of London’s most important musical incubators. More than just a club night, concert series, NTS Radio mainstay and a label, Touching Bass has become something of a movement: a community meeting grounds for music lovers and some of the most exciting contemporary music-makers both in the capital and beyond.

The tracklist is a reflection of that, curated by TB’s Errol, Alex Rita and Sammseed over the course of two years. Among the list of contributors are Chicago/New York’s keiyaA, Stones Throw’s DJ Harrison, Ben Hauke, Ego Ella May, recent WARP signee Nala Sinephro, Melo-Zed, Hiatus Kaiyote’s Clever Austin and many more (see below for tracklist). Artwork for the project comes from Alex Rita, combining moments caught at Touching Bass’ own gatherings over the years.

Since launching properly in 2019, Touching Bass has quickly established itself as one of the UK’s most exciting new labels. The young imprint has championed critically respected and refreshingly innovative works with little genre restriction, receiving recognition from both musical and cultural bil. From the electrifying grooves of Danish trio, Athletic Progression, to the modern classical of South London’s CKTRL (featuring Duval Timothy).

Along the way, Errol and Alex have also been tapped up for collaborations/ commissions with some of the world’s most forward-thinking creatives and institutions; from the world-renowned White Cube gallery for Frieze Week 2021 and fashion designers Nicholas Daley and Azura Lovisa to film music supervision for Ronan McKenzie and Joy Yamasungie’s WATA and multi-award winning director, Jenn Nkiru’s (Beyonce, Kamasi Washington, Neneh Cherry) Black To Techno, the experimental documentary which premiered at Frieze Los Angeles and was nominated for ‘Best Short’ at the IDA Awards.

For newcomers, Soon Come acts as a vital introduction to the label’s wide-spanning DNA. For those already acquainted, it’s a glimpse at its exciting future.

All My Heroes Are Cornballs is the third studio album by renowned Baltimore rapper JPEGMafia, released on September 13, 2019, follow-up to the album that really launched his career, Veteran (2018). JPEGMAFIA handled the production, mixing and mastering in his home studio. The album features guest appearances from Abdu Ali, Helena Deland and Buzzy Lee, as well as additional vocals by Refined Sugar, Vegyn and Young Emoji. All My Heroes are cornballs is an avant-garde, experimental hip hop, and punk rap album, and draws influences from experimental pop, glitch hop, ambient, noise and industrial music. It has a smoother and more melodic sound than its predecessor, employing uncommon song structures, extensive sampling, and a variety of vocal techniques such as rapping, screaming and singing. Thematically, the album is personal, introspective, and presented in a stream of consciousness form, touching on the Internet culture, prejudice, political issues and JPEGMafia's newfound fame.

“Friends, they are my ticket out of this place I am in… feels like nothing more than a dirt bike vacation stop between Phoenix and San Diego.” Dirt Bike Vacation—for Worried Songs Records—explores the sonic world of the late amateur guitar player, Charles ‘Poppy Bob’ Walker, through a captivating set of instrumental songs made in the mid-1980s. Recorded on a single-track, Marantz field recorder, the project is a transportive document of Walker’s days spent as a meatpacking employee in Yuma, Arizona and the dailiness of that existence: driving to work, sitting in his backyard, walking around drunkenly, unwinding on the couch with a friend. These sketches, showing an experimental tendency, are surprisingly ahead of their time; some exhibit ad hoc tape delay (“Granite Bluffs,” “Goodbye YMCA”), while others make use of primitive overdubbing (“Continuation to Moon Doctor”). Not dissimilar to works such as Bruce Langhorne’s The Hired Hand soundtrack, Walker’s guitar playing is melodic, texturally rich and beautifully sober. On a musical tour from Nashville to Los Angeles, musician-archivist, Cameron Knowler, uncovered these songs from a series of dusty cassette tapes housed at a branch of the Yuma County Library. Originally tipped off by cryptic metadata entries found through an online finding aid, Knowler requested a sound sample and was immediately drawn in by their eerie, yet hopeful nature: “I didn’t care what they sounded like at first, but once I heard just a few seconds, I had to find out everything I could about Charles, who he was, and if he was still alive.” As it turns out, the two had miraculously crossed paths over 20 years prior when Cameron was a young boy accompanying his mother, a gem trader, on a biyearly sojourn to Quartzsite, a town 80 miles north of Yuma: “Charles, sitting down and smoking in a recliner, withdrawn, held what I now understand to be a mid-1990s Martin D-28 guitar. Unlike other old-timers, his instrument was sharply tuned and had a nice sound, even to my young and uncalibrated ears. Though his left hand showed signs of highly developed arthritis, his musical ideas were animated by a palpably deep understanding of fretboard anatomy, arrangement and harmony.” Sorting through the index cards associated with these tapes, Knowler was able to gain a detailed sense of most recording’s provenance, whereabouts and time: Walker’s Datsun pickup truck chugging along boiling hot Interstate 80, the Marine Corps Air Station parking lot, the Eastern Wetlands on the banks of the Colorado River, a fishing trip to Martinez Lake. Trying to reduce the amount of his own subjectivities coloring the work, Cameron constructed titles and track sequences by borrowing information gleaned from Charles’ handwritten notes: “I tried to organize everything by time of day, giving the listener the sense of how a Yuma day might sound and feel like, and each song title—even the record itself—is borrowed from his own words.” This proved no small task, as many notecards had to be deciphered and then coupled with their native tapes which needed extensive restoration treatments. The result is a project very much out of the blue, and one that is intensely personal to Knowler, having grown up in the same town under similar circumstances. “It feels like a part of my own journey as a guitarist reckoning with the defining marks of a gothic border town,” he remarks. “At the time I would’ve met Walker, I didn’t have much outside influence, but he has been in there all the while.” In their current form, the tracks combine to create a sonic journey that boldly contributes to the traditions of acoustic guitar soli, archival digs and field recordings all the same; most importantly, it is a creative document which shows a day-in-the-life of a man grappling with the human experience under a ubiquitous Yuma sun.

Thirty years after it was released on CD and cassette, Fuemana’s cult classic New Urban Polynesian album is finally available on vinyl. Born from the blood, sweat and tears of the late great Polynesian renaissance man Phil Fuemana and his family and friends, Fuemana’s music transports the listener back to the autumn and winter days of 1994 in the antipodes, where they turned love, loss, grief and acceptance into the finest R&B/street soul album ever recorded in Aotearoa New Zealand.

Fuemana spent several late nights tracking one-take sessions at The Lab Recording Studio with engineers Simon Taylor, Chris Sinclair and Mark Tierney. From there, New Urban Polynesian came together quickly. Across the album, Phil showed off his prodigious skills as a multi-instrumentalist and producer, playing most of the smooth, sophisticated, and heartfelt music himself. In the studio, he shared the lead with Christina and Matty J, supported by a cast of backing vocalists, musicians and guest vocalists, including a young Carly Binding.

From the lush openings of their soulful Roberta Flack, Donny Hathaway, and Stevie Wonder covers ‘Closer’ and ‘Rocket Love’ to the misty new jack swing serenade of his original ‘Seasons,’ Phil’s goal was to craft material that would let the music industry know the Fuemanas had arrived while also inspiring the next generation.

In 1995, the Fuemana family’s youngest sibling, Pauly, borrowed the initials from Ōtara Millionaires Club and began performing as OMC. Not long after, he changed everything for New Zealand music by recording the feelgood guitar-laced Polynesian pop global mega-hit ‘How Bizarre’ with producer Alan Jansson.

Consumed by a desire to do more musically, Phil established Urban Pacifika Records, where he launched the careers of a new wave of Pacific hip-hop and R&B talent, including Lost Tribe, Moizna, AKA Brown, and Sani Sagala, aka Dei Hamo.

In 2005, Phil tragically passed away from a heart attack aged 41. Five years later, Pauly, equally tragically, joined him after an extended battle with a rare neurological disorder, leaving Tony and Chirstina to grieve and make sense of their family’s extraordinary story.

When New Urban Polynesian first hit record store shelves in 1994, the Fuemanas dedicated the album to their father, Takiula Fuemana. Three decades later, it has expanded in meaning to become a remembrance of their youngest brother Pauly and a celebration of the life and times of their big-hearted big brother, Mr. Fuemana, Mr. Phil Fuemana.

Words by Martyn Pepperell in conversation with Tony & Christina Fuemana.

Gazebo Records feel honoured for the opportunity to share this important album for our inaugural release, now available for the first time on vinyl with remastering by Mikey Young.

All proceeds from this record flowing to the Fuemana family.

By the end of 1957, the rockabilly heyday of Sun Records was virtually over. Ray Smith's importance to the legacy of the label is that his first Sun session in January 1958 heralded the new era of rock 'n' roll.



Despite recording a string of excellent rocking singles for Sun, commercial success eluded Ray Smith. A year after a series of outstanding concert performances in the UK and Holland during 1978, Ray Smith died tragically as a result of a shooting accident on 29 November 1979.



'Shake Around' Includes 'So Young', 'Rockin' Bandit' and 'Break Up', which he recorded several months before labelmate and friend Jerry Lee Lewis' made it a hit single.



"Nobody wanted recognition more than Ray. He was totally wrapped up in what he was doing. There was never a dry thread on him after a show!" - Sam Phillips