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Preston duo White Flowers announce new album, Dreams For Somebody Else - due for release 1st May 2026 via The state51 Conspiracy.
White Flowers, the long-running collaboration between Joey Cobb and Katie Drew, exists within what they call “the realm” – a shared creative space, wherein time, rather than being a restrictive force, is fluid and boundless, and music exists as an endless conversation with their past and present selves. Adopting what the band describe as a “sketchbook” approach to writing, White Flowers is the product of a decade’s worth of recordings - snippets nestled away on hard drives, only to truly make sense years later.
On Dreams For Somebody Else, the band expand upon the dark-hued dream pop of their debut, channeling the catharsis of dance music via repetitive structures and “sad, euphoric sounds”. Working alongside LCD Soundsystem and Hot Chip’s Al Doyle on production, the album maps out a mosaic of soaring choruses that swirl around imposing arrays of synths, guitars, and percussion.
Through this new lens, the band explore themes of isolation, dissociation and identity - drawing inspiration from Annie Ernaux’s The Years. “Whilst recording the songs for ‘Dreams For Somebody Else’, we really connected with the concept of Annie Ernaux’s book, ‘The Years’ - a ‘collective autobiography’ pieced together from mismatched fragments from her past, conjuring the effect that she’s merely an observer of her own life. This concept merges into the White Flowers world, where time, rather than being restrictive, is fluid and boundless, with our music existing as an endless conversation with versions of ourselves at different stages of our lives.”
“The album has that same feeling of disassociating from your own life, because you’re just blending into everyone else”, the band explains. “There’s a sadness there, because it’s as if you’re looking back on things that happened to you, and they feel like they don’t belong to you anymore”. It’s the dull ache of nostalgia intertwined with a sense of wonder at what could lie ahead - the hopeful optimism and endless loss that defines the human experience. “It’s this idea of identity not being a fixed thing, but something that’s always changing. It’s a fluid thing, similar to time. Things aren’t really fixed, but rather in a constant state of change. It’s important to remember that we’re all going through that.”

UILTY RAZORS, BONA FIDE PUNKS.



Writings on the topic that go off in all directions, mind-numbing lectures given by academics, and testimonies, most of them heavily doctored, from those who “lived through that era”: so many people today fantasize about the early days of punk in our country… This blessed moment when no one had yet thought of flaunting a ridiculous green mohawk, taking Sid Vicious as a hero, or – even worse – making the so-called alternative scene both festive and boorish. There was no such thing in 1976 or 1977, when it wasn’t easy to get hold of the first 45s by the Pistols or the Clash. Few people were aware of what was happening on the fringes of the fringes at the time. Malcolm McLaren was virtually unknown, and having short hair made you seem strange. Who knew then that rock music, which had taken a very bad turn since the early 1970s, would once again become an essential element of liberation? That, thanks to short and fast songs, it would once again rediscover that primitive, social side that was so hated by older generations? Who knew that, besides a few loners who read the music press (it was even better if they read it in English) and frequented the right record stores? Many of these formed bands, because it was impossible to do otherwise. We quickly went from listening to the Velvet Underground to trying to play the Stooges’ intros. It’s a somewhat collective story, even though there weren’t many people to start it.
The Guilty Razors were among those who took part in this initial upheaval in Paris. They were far from being the worst. They had something special and even released a single that was well above the national average. They also had enough songs to fill an album, the one you’re holding. In everyone’s opinion, they were definitely not among the punk impostors that followed in their wake. They were, at least, genuine and credible.

Guilty Razors, Parisian punk band (1975-1978). To understand something about their somewhat linear but very energetic sound, we might need to talk about the context in which it was born and, more broadly, recall the boredom (a theme that would become capital in punk songs) coupled with the desire to blow everything off, which were the basis for the formation of bands playing a rejuvenated rock music ; about the passion for a few records by the Kinks or the early Who, by the Stooges, by the Velvet mostly, which set you apart from the crowd.
And of course, we should remember this new wave, which was promoted by a few articles in the specialized press and some cutting-edge record stores, coming from New York or London, whose small but powerful influence could be felt in Paris and in a handful of isolated places in the provinces, lulled to sleep by so many appalling things, from Tangerine Dream to President Giscard d’Estaing...
In 1975-76, French music was, as almost always, in a sorry state ; it was still dominated by Johnny Hallyday and Sylvie Vartan. Local rock music was also rather bleak, apart from Bijou and Little Bob who tried to revive this small scene with poorly sound-engineered gigs played to almost no one.
In the working class suburbs at the time, it was mainly hard rock music played to 11 that helped people forget about their gruelling shifts at the factory. Here and there, on the outskirts of major cities, you still could find a few rockers with sideburns wearing black armbands since the death of Gene Vincent, but it wasn’t a proper mass movement, just a source of real danger to anyone they came across who wasn't like them. In August 1976, a festival unlike any other took place in Mont-de-Marsan – the First European Punk Festival as the poster said – with almost as many people on stage as in the audience. Yet, on that day, a quasi historical event happened, when, under the blazing afternoon sun, a band of unknowns called The Damned made an unprecedented noise in the arena, reminiscent of the chaotic Stooges in their early adolescence. They were the first genuine punk band to perform in our country: from then on, anything was possible, almost anything seemed permissible.

It makes sense that the four+1 members of Guilty Razors, who initially amplified acoustic guitars with crappy tape recorder microphones, would adopt punk music (pronounced paink in French) naturally and instinctively, since it combines liberating noise with speed of execution and – crucially – a very healthy sense of rebellion (the protesters of May 1968 proclaimed, and it was even a slogan, that they weren’t against old people, but against what had made them grow old. In the mid-1970s, it seemed normal and obvious that old people should now ALSO be targeted!!!).
At the time, the desire to fight back, and break down authority and apathy, was either red or black, often taking the form of leafleting, tumultuous general assemblies in the schoolyard, and massive or shabby demonstrations, most of the time overflowing with an exciting vitality that sometimes turned into fights with the riot police. Indeed, soon after the end of the Vietnam War and following Pinochet’s coup in Chile, all over France, Trotskyist and anarcho-libertarian fervour was firmly entrenched among parts of the educated youth population, who were equally rebellious and troublemakers whenever they had the chance. It should also be noted that when the single "Anarchy in the UK" was first heard, even though not many of us had access to it, both the title and its explosive sound immediately resonated with some of those troublemakers crying out for ANARCHY!!! Meanwhile, the left-wing majority still equated punks with reckless young neo-Nazis. Of course, the widely circulated photos in the mainstream press of Siouxsie Sioux with her swastikas didn’t necessarily help to win over the theorists of the Great Revolution. It took Joe Strummer to introduce The Clash as an anti-racist, anti-fascist and anti-ignorance band for the rejection of old-school revolutionaries to fade a little.

The Lycée Jean-Baptiste Say at Porte d’Auteuil, despite being located in the very posh and very exclusive 16th arrondissement of Paris, didn’t escape these "committed" upheavals, which doubled as the perfect outlet for the less timid members of this generation.
“Back then, politics were fun,” says Tristam Nada, who studied there and went on to become Guilty Razors’ frontman. “Jean-Baptiste was the leftist high-school in the neighbourhood. When the far right guys from the GUD came down there, the Communist League guys from elsewhere helped us fight them off.”
Anything that could challenge authority was fair game and of course, strikes for just about any reason would lead to increasingly frequent truancy (with a definitive farewell to education that would soon follow). Tristam Nada spent his 10th and 11th unfinished grades with José Perez, who had come from Spain, where his father, a janitor, had been sentenced to death by Franco. “José steered my tastes towards solid acts such as The Who. Like most teenagers, I had previously absorbed just about everything that came my way, from Yes to Led Zeppelin to Genesis. I was exploring… And then one day, he told me that he and his brother Carlos wanted to start a rock band.” The Perez brothers already played guitar. “Of course, they were Spanish!”, jokes their singer. “Then, somewhat reluctantly, José took up the bass and we were soon joined by Jano – who called himself Jano Homicid – who took up the rhythm guitar.” Several drummers would later join this core of not easily intimidated young guys who didn’t let adversity get the better of them.

The first rehearsals of the newly named Guilty Razors took place in the bedroom of a Perez aunt. There, the three rookies tried to cover a few standards, songs that often were an integral part of their lives. During a first, short gig, in front of a bewildered audience of tough old-school rockers, they launched into a clunky version of the Velvet Underground's “Heroin”. Challenge or recklessness? A bit of both, probably… And then, step by step, their limited repertoire expanded as they decided to write their own songs, sung in a not always very accurate or academic English, but who cared about proper grammar or the right vocabulary, since what truly mattered was to make the words sound as good as possible while playing very, very fast music? And spitting out those words in a language that left no doubt as to what it conveyed mattered as well.
Trying their hand a the kind of rock music disliked by most of the neighbourhood, making noise, being fiercely provocative: they still belonged to a tiny clique who, at this very moment, had chosen to impose this difference. And there were very few places in France or elsewhere, where one could witness the first stirrings of something that wasn’t a trend yet, let alone a movement.

In the provinces, in late 1976 or early 1977, there couldn’t be more than thirty record stores that were a bit more discerning than average, where you could hear this new kind of short-haired rock music called “punk”. The old clientele, who previously had no problem coming in to buy the latest McCartney or Aerosmith LP, now felt a little less comfortable there…
In Paris, these enlightened places were quite rare and often located nex to what would become the Forum des Halles, a big shopping mall. Between three aging sex workers, a couple of second-hand clothes shops, sellers of hippie paraphernalia and small fashion designers, the good word was loudly spread in two pioneering places – propagators of what was still only a new underground movement. Historically, the first one was the Open Market, a kind of poorly, but tastefully stocked cave. Speakers blasted out the sound of sixties garage bands from the Nuggets compilation (a crucial reference for José Perez) or the badly dressed English kids of Eddie and the Hot Rods. This black-painted den was opened a few years earlier by Marc Zermati, a character who wasn’t always in a sunny disposition, but always quite radical in his (good) choices and his opinions. He founded the independent label Skydog and was one of the promoters of the Mont-de-Marsan punk festivals. Not far from there was Harry Cover, another store more in tune with the new New York scene, which was amply covered in the house fanzine, Rock News (even though it was in it that the photos of the Sex Pistols were first published in France).
It was a favorite hang-out of the Perez brothers and Tristam Nada, as the latter explained. “It’s at Harry Cover’s that we first heard the Pistols and Clash’s 45s, and after that, we decided to start writing our first songs. If they could do it, so could we!”
The sonic shocks that were “Anarchy in the UK”, “White Riot” or the Buzzcocks’s EP, “Spiral Scratch” – which Guilty Razors' sound is reminiscent of – were soon to be amplified by an unparalleled visual shock. In April 1977, right after the release of their first LP, The Clash performed at the Palais des Glaces in Paris, during a punk night organised by Marc Zermati. For many who were there, it was the gig of a lifetime…
Of course, Guilty Razors and Tristam were in the audience: “That concert was fabulous… We Parisian punks were almost all dressed in black and white, with white shirts, skinny leather ties, bikers jackets or light jackets, etc. The Clash, on the other hand, wore colourful clothes. Well, the next day, at the Gibus, you’d spot everyone who had been at this concert, but they weren’t wearing anything black, they were all wearing colours.”

It makes sense to mention the Gibus club, as Guilty Razors often played there (sometimes in front of a hostile audience). It was also the only place in Paris that regularly scheduled new Parisian or Anglo-Saxon acts, such as Generation X, Siouxsie and the Banshees, the Slits, and Johnny Thunders who would become a kind of messed-up mascot for the venue. A little later, in 1978, the Rose Bonbon – formerly the Nashville – also attracted nightly owls in search of electric thrills… In 1977, the iconic but not necessarily excellent Asphalt Jungle often played at the Gibus, sometimes sharing the bill with Metal Urbain, the only band whose aura would later transcend the French borders (“I saw them as the French Sex Pistols,” said Geoff Travis, head of their British label Rough Trade). Already established in this small scene, Metal Urbain helped the young and restless Guilty Razors who had just arrived. Guitarist for Metal Urbain Hermann Schwartz remembers it: “They were younger than us, we were a bit like their mentors even if it’s too strong a word… At least they were credible. We thought they were good, and they had good songs which reminded of the Buzzcocks that I liked a lot. But at some point, they started hanging out with the Hells Angels. That’s when we stopped following them.”

The break-up was mutual, since, Guilty Razors, for their part, were shocked when they saw a fringe element of the audience at Metal Urbain concerts who repeatedly shouted “Sieg Heil” and gave Nazi salutes. These provocations, even still minor (the bulk of the skinhead crowd would later make their presence felt during concerts), weren’t really to the liking of the Perez brothers, whose anti-fascist convictions were firmly rooted. Some things are non-negotiable.
A few months earlier (in July 1978), Guilty Razors had nevertheless opened very successfully for Metal Urbain at the Bus Palladium, a more traditonally old-school rock night-club. But, as was sometimes the case back then, the night turned into a mass brawl when suburban rockers came to “beat up punks”.

Back then, Parisian nights weren’t always sweet and serene.

So, after opening as best as they could for The Jam (their sound having been ruined by the PA system), our local heroes were – once again – met outside by a horde of greasers out to get them. “Thankfully,” says Tristam, “we were with our roadies, motorless bikers who acted as a protective barrier. We were chased in the neighbouring streets and the whole thing ended in front of a bar, with the owner coming out with a rifle…”
Although Tristam and the Perez brothers narrowly escaped various, potentially bloody, incidents, they weren’t completely innocent of wrongdoing either. They still find amusing their mugging of two strangers in the street for example (“We were broke and we simply wanted to buy tickets for the Heartbreakers concert that night,” says Tristam). It so happened that their victims were two key figures in the rock business at the time: radio presenter Alain Manneval and music publisher Philippe Constantin. They filed a complaint and sought monetary compensation, but somehow the band’s manager, the skilful but very controversial Alexis, managed to get the complaint withdrawn and Guilty Razors ended up signing with Constantin with a substantial advance.

They also signed with Polydor and the label released in 1978 their only three-track 45, featuring “I Don't Wanna be A Rich”, “Hurts and Noises” and “Provocate” (songs that exuded perpetual rebellion and an unquenchable desire for “class” confrontation). It was a very good record, but due to a lack of promotion (radio stations didn’t play French artists singing in English), it didn’t sell very well. Only 800 copies were allegedly sold and the rest of the stock was pulped… Initially, the three tracks were to be included on a LP that never came to be, since they were dropped by Polydor (“Let’s say we sometimes caused a ruckus in their offices!” laughs Tristam.) In order to perfect the long-awaited LP, the band recorded demos of other tracks. There was a cover of Pink Floyd's “Lucifer Sam” from the Syd Barrett era – proof of an enduring love for the sixties’ greats –, “Wake Up” a hangover tale and “Bad Heart” about the Baader-Meinhof gang, whose actions had a profound impact on the era and on a generation seeking extreme dissent... On the album you’re now discovering, you can also hear five previously unreleased tracks recorded a bit later during an extended and freezing stay in Madrid, in a makeshift studio with the invaluable help of a drummer also acting as sound engineer. He was both an enthusiastic old hippie and a proper whizz at sound engineering. Here too, certain influences from the fifties and sixties (Link Wray, the Troggs) are more than obvious in the band’s music.

Shortly after a final stormy and rather barbaric (on the audience’s side) “Punk night” at the Olympia in June 1978, Tristam left the band ; his bandmates continued without him for a short while.

But like most pioneering punk bands of the era, Guilty Razors eventually split up for good after three years (besides once in Spain, they’d only played in Paris). The reason for ceasing business activities were more or less the same for everyone: there were no venues outside one’s small circuit to play this kind of rock music, which was still frightening, unknown, or of little interest to most people. The chances of recording an LP were virtually null, since major labels were only signing unoriginal but reassuring sub-Téléphone clones, and the smaller ones were only interested in progressive rock or French chanson for youth clubs. And what about self-production? No one in our small safety-pinned world had thought about it yet. There wasn’t enough money to embark on that sort of venture anyway.

So yes, the early days of punk in France were truly No Future!

JAPAN & PORCUPINE TREE SYNTHESIST RICHARD BARBIERI RETURNS WITH NEW STUDIO ALBUM 'HAUNTINGS' GATEFOLD 2LP EDITION, PRESSED ON CLASSIC BLACK VINYL. Richard Barbieri remains one of contemporary music's most distinctive voices. Emerging as a key architect of the late '70s/'80s synthesiser revolution with David Sylvian's art-rock ensemble Japan, his visionary synthesiser programming expanded the horizons of electronic music & left a lasting mark on artists from The Human League & Duran Duran to Gary Numan & Talk Talk. His subsequent & ongoing tenure with Steven Wilson's legendary progressive outfit Porcupine Tree across albums such as 'In Absentia' (2002), 'Fear Of A Blank Planet' (2007) &, most recently, 'Closure/Continuation' (2022) further affirmed his status as one of the most intuitive & unique musicians of his generation.

'Hauntings' is Barbieri's first studio album since 2021's 'Under A Spell', deepening the pensive, dark instrumental aesthetic of its predecessor. A diverse collection of immersive sound worlds, both dark & uplifting in equal measure, 'Hauntings' is influenced by a nostalgia for the past & future, & for things that didn't happen yet still manage to haunt the mind & soul. What is real & what is simulation? The album finds Barbieri at the height of his powers, his deft keyboard & sonic architecture conjuring a shadowy, creeping Lovecraftian atmosphere. The music wanders through the streets of a gloomy lamp-lit Victorian London & drifts into grain-speckled snapshots of Belle Époque Paris. These journeys into the past are contrasted with nihilistic but euphoric forays into the future, "Traveler" & "A New Simulation" bristling with the itchy modern anxiety that often runs through his best work. Contrasting the sound designs & electronics of Barbieri, the album features performances from renowned musicians Morgan Agren (drums & percussion), Percy Jones (bass guitar) & Luca Calabrese (trumpet). This 2LP 45 RPM edition of 'Hauntings' is presented in gatefold packaging & pressed on classic black vinyl.

Johnny Cash (1932–2003) was a legendary singer-songwriter whose deep voice and storytelling made him one of the most influential figures in American music. Blending country, rock, folk, and gospel, he created timeless songs like “I Walk the Line,” “Ring of Fire,” “Folsom Prison Blues.”, “I Got Stripes,” and “Oh Lonesome Me.” Known as The Man in Black, Cash’s music spoke to themes of love, faith, and redemption, leaving an enduring mark on generations of artists.

Jesper Lindell and his band have come a long way in a short time.

Since the release of the acclaimed 2022 album “Twilights”, they played well over 100 shows all over Europe to an ever growing number of fans.
The new album “Before the Sun” will establish Jesper Lindell as a major Swedish and international artist. Ten brilliant songs steeped in a classic, timeless sound!

Press quotes “Twilights”;
“soulful Americana… a roots sensation” - PopMatters
“Can a Swedish ex-soccer player sing soulful roots music with as much warmth, heart and feeling as Van Morrison or The Band? The answer, which will be obvious as soon as you hit play on Jesper Lindell’s second album, is a resounding “oh yeah”.” - Holler
“it’s clear that Lindell is destined for big things” - Glide Magazine
“a near-perfect wedding of deeply affecting, imaginatively arranged Americana/rock material, soulful, raspy vocals, and consummate performances” - BlogCritics

Marking their 51st release, long time label collaborator and friend Owain K returns to 200 with a brand new solo 4 track EP, Kinematic Equations.

Having joined 200 back in 2012 with the “Colonius EP”, a lot has happened in that time. With 50+ releases on the imprint and Owain setting up his own blog and a label under the Innate banner. However, some things remain - mutual friendship, a shared love of underground Electronic music and Kölsch!

15 years on the Welsh rooted, Bristol (UK) based artist delivers some of his best music to date in the shape of the “Kinematic Equations”. A four track journey into astral electronics that weave together his take on deep space sounds, fused with a healthy dose of dubby aesthetics that are close to the label’s heart.

Starting with the rhythmic pulse of ‘Axial Shifts’ on side A, chords steadily arc into life as the intensity rises and falls, all whilst keeping a measured trajectory. Drifting into the ether, ‘Open Cluster’ fills the zone where heavy sub meets filtered percussion to a rounded 909 kick, set with dreamy atmospherics and shimmering delays.

On side B ‘Eta Aquarid’ blazes a powerful trail to machine-like rumbling and evolving pads which burst brightly over the course. Last but not least, the magical aura of ‘Ghost Of Jupiter’ appears - a fusion of glimmering melodies that float over driving bottom end and steady percussion, bringing the EP to a perfect conclusion.

Written and produced by Owain Kimber
Mastered by Emanuel Geller at Salz Mastering

I started writing the songs for V at the beginning of 2023, and the demos were finished by the end of that year. While creating this material, I kept returning to one thought: everything we take for granted - everything that feels stable and permanent - is, in reality, incredibly fragile. Nothing lasts forever, and the sense of things slipping away can hit much sooner than we expect. I tried to translate those feelings into sound. At that time, a lot of difficult things were happening in my life, things I didn't know how to cope with. Music became a form of therapy - a way to process emotions I couldn't express in any other way. In early 2024, we began working through the songs together as a full band. After finalizing the arrangements, we spent the rest of the year recording them. The process stretched over many months, split into several sessions across different studios. I didn't want to rush anything. I wanted, as always, to refine every detail the best we possibly could. Soon you'll be able to hear the result for yourselves. For me, this album is something deeply personal. It's an act of opening up to anyone who chooses to listen - a glimpse into things I can't fully describe with words, into what I felt and who I became during that period. I'm incredibly happy that together with my friends from the band, we've created another record. What comes next_ time will tell.

Magenta Vinyl, limited to 450 copies. I started writing the songs for V at the beginning of 2023, and the demos were finished by the end of that year. While creating this material, I kept returning to one thought: everything we take for granted - everything that feels stable and permanent - is, in reality, incredibly fragile. Nothing lasts forever, and the sense of things slipping away can hit much sooner than we expect. I tried to translate those feelings into sound. At that time, a lot of difficult things were happening in my life, things I didn't know how to cope with. Music became a form of therapy - a way to process emotions I couldn't express in any other way. In early 2024, we began working through the songs together as a full band. After finalizing the arrangements, we spent the rest of the year recording them. The process stretched over many months, split into several sessions across different studios. I didn't want to rush anything. I wanted, as always, to refine every detail the best we possibly could. Soon you'll be able to hear the result for yourselves. For me, this album is something deeply personal. It's an act of opening up to anyone who chooses to listen - a glimpse into things I can't fully describe with words, into what I felt and who I became during that period. I'm incredibly happy that together with my friends from the band, we've created another record. What comes next_ time will tell.

2026 Repress

Flickering in ultraviolet, there is an elusive place where blue pill meets red, ups become downs, and day merges with night. Those liminal spaces where anything is possible is where you’ll find Nightbus and their hypnotic debut album Passenger. Doom, uncertainty, and opportunity lurk in the shadowy corners of their murky existence with stops at disassociation, co-dependency, and addiction before reaching its final destination - a glimmer of hope.

The in-between of Nightbus’ own Gotham lies where Manchester’s city pulse meets Stockport’s outer realm. An audio-visual entity formed among a musical family of friends, freaks, and foes in messy mills and after hours on dancefloors alike, their sound bleeds from tension where collective creative forces are bound together and collide with the fallout of being torn apart. Before even playing a show, their So Young released single ‘Mirrors’ – a knowing nod of respect to some well-known gloomy Northerners - may have made old school indie heads shimmy at shows in Salford’s The White Hotel but also signalled the duo’s knack for offering listeners a Bandersnatch approach to hitchhiking their own personal Nightbus in whatever direction they choose to take. “Everyone can have their moment with our songs; the music is our response to who we are as young people, living in the city full of this energy right now,” they say.

Whilst reverb hefty melodies and dread-filled loops embody isolation from writing at each of their home studio set-ups, magic happens in the ether across 90s trip-hop, indie sleaze and electronica; Jake’s production layers Olive’s pop sentimentality with drums and samples whilst tales of a cast of faceless characters place Olive as puppet master; her severed self’s perspective manipulating their stringed limbs at arm’s length to see how their stories play out when scenes reflecting her own lie close to the bone. “It’s a bit fucked; like having this out of body experience with a made-up movie running through my head,” she says. “As I write I can see they’re all from a similar world, but they allow me to explore different feelings without giving away part of myself.”

Recorded at The Nave in Leeds with producer-engineer Alex Greaves (Heavy Lungs, Working Men’s Club), surprise and danger lies in every crevice. Brooding whispers turn to chants on 6-minute opus ‘Host.’ Improvised when performed live, its immersive shift in tempo leads to hefty dub courtesy of Jake’s pedals. Even then, you won’t know shit’s hit the fan until its mid-point reveal when ominous bass blasts a thunderous soundtrack as its protagonist defiantly walks away after committing the perfect crime. “It makes you wait, and more songs should have sirens,” Olive grins.

Leaning deeper into alter-egos via the video game-psychological horror of a Silent Hill dystopia, the band’s Fight Club moment ‘Angles Mortz’ turns its literal translation of death angles on its head as it reflects upon kink and internalised shame reincarnated as pride. Elsewhere the ice cool ‘Landslide’ is a Requiem for a Dream about the addiction of being in a band; ‘The Void’ explores co-dependency and estranged relationships; and carefully selected samples revive house track ‘Just A Kid’ from the band’s early incarnation. Passenger’s every direction is to face challenges head on. “That is what’s so great about horror; you can see through predictable patterns so when the unexpected occurs it's more realistic and uncomfortable… I want to own the dark stuff!”

As for Passenger’s first single, the pulsating ‘Ascension’ is a spiralling deep dive into death, suicide, and legacy around who or what we leave behind. A noughties club banger by way of NYC beats - ergonomically designed for those who like to stay out a little too often and too late - it throbs like a house party’s partition wall as the literal levelling up undergoes a neon transformation; blue glitching to pink, diffusing the white construct of the Nightbus Matrix. “It really does feel like the end of something and was purposely written that way,” they say, “the ascension is like a firework going off!”

With wheels in motion, Nightbus has become a movement surpassing sonic realms. Between shows from Porto to Brighton taking in The Great Escape, Rotterdam’s Left Of The Dial and Paris’ Supersonic; DJing; remixing; guesting (BDRMM’s Microtonic album); and even enlisting talented like-minds to craft a 3-part queer coming-of-age music video series which ties in with a new ‘hyperpop’ phase in the evolution of their popular Nightbus Soundsystem club night, heads are now being turned from sports brands to high-end fashion designers. “There are things we can’t reveal just yet,” tells Olive, “but we’re excited about the direction this beast we’ve created is heading.” As the album philosophises and asks one ultimate question; what does it truly mean to be ‘Passenger’? Nightbus may not claim to offer a definitive answer, but it might make you feel a bit better about those demons.

‘Pilot’ is the debut album from London quintet Miniseries. Channelling the epic sweep of TV themes and movie soundtracks into resplendent space rock they explore themes of youth and ageing, heartbreak and paranoia, euphoria and existential dread.

Songwriter Doug Morch (Longview) had been working on largely acoustic folk songs when he met Angela Gannon (The Magic Numbers) at Glastonbury 2017. Romance and musical collaboration ensued. The band coalesced in the hallowed environs of Farringdon's The Betsey Trotwood pub – a musical nexus where burgeoning indie and Americana scenes collide – where they met fellow songwriter and guitarist Dermot Watson (from Brighton's The Dials) and drummer Danny Abbasi and were joined by Doug's former bandmate Aidan Banks on bass. When they came together, their indie folk mutated into motorik art rock, with their first single being an eight-minute jam called "Road".

When it came to capturing their sound, the band reached for maverick musician and producer Sean Read. They recorded tracks at Read's Famous Times studio in Clapton, London, as well as at Edwyn Collins' Clashnarrow in Helmsdale, Scotland – one of the world's most breathtaking and idiosyncratic studio locations, adding unquantifiable magic to the proceedings.

For the closing track "May You Always", they headed to another studio imbued with tangible inspiration: Blueprint Studio in Salford with producer Craig Potter (Elbow) at the helm. For the song, Dermot drew cinematic inspiration from the Withnail & I line "I'll never play The Dane", the song is about realising that the things you aspired to in youth will never come to pass and being at peace with that realisation.

The recurring themes of youth and ageing are apparent in the resplendent lead track ‘You're Gold’ – a heartfelt call for young people to reject materialism and exploitative influencer culture in search of life's deeper meaning, with stylistic nods to The Pixies and early Stereolab.

On the opposite end of the spectrum, "Sepia" explores old age and fading memories through dementia, where the ending descends into chaos like a fragmenting mind. Elements of "Sepia" are foreshadowed in the album's opening track, the instrumental "Pilot Theme", which pays homage to TV theme music, invoking spy thrillers or perhaps something otherworldly from science fiction.

“Offcumdens” is a Calder Valley, Yorkshire term for people who live in the area but come from somewhere else. Hailing from Bury, Lancashire, Morch wrote the song while living in Hebden Bridge (and watching too much Happy Valley) and found himself being an offcumden. It’s a pop at the kind of local nativism which breeds intolerance and an illustration of the sinister rise of wider political populism.

Miniseries' Pilot is just the beginning of the story. Enthralling and atmospheric, the London quintet have created something familiar yet timeless. As singer Doug Morch says, "It's the Miniseries Pilot episode. Like the TV episode a studio makes to test whether it's viable.” In the age of streaming and box-sets, this is an album to truly binge on. We can’t wait to hear what happens next.

“Even a blind pig can find an acorn once in a while.”

Dialling up Bristol for a nearly-missed hard drive scoop from a moment back in the middle-distant past, Bruk proudly presents the sound of Blind Pigs. Snaffling up eight nuggets of open-format beats recorded over a 24-hour creative spurt, this record captures a moment in time and celebrates the magic that happens when seasoned heads cut loose in the studio without an Agenda.

The sound of Blind Pigs is steeped in many things, conjured as it is by two venerable wizards with all kinds of skin in the game. There are snatches of trap’ sharp contours, LA beat scene storytelling, grime immediacy, soundtrack atmospherics and the pervading influence of soundsystem-spirited low end. Those are all just hints really — the resulting spell is its own blend that manifests free of any conceit. The production is raw and impactful, cold to the touch but charged with emotional weight in the haunted polysynth shapes peeling out across the tracks. Re-discovered by chance and stripped of contextual baggage, Blind Pigs is what happens when music is allowed to happen naturally. No arch concept, no stylistic posturing, just properly crafted beats stumbled upon by chance from two real ones who maybe never entered the studio together Again.

Tuk Smith is the kind of rock 'n' roll ambassador you didn't think existed anymore. Punk maverick from rural Georgia, Biters frontman, producer and solo artist, he's seen the best and worst of a music industry in constant flux. By turns it's left him critically acclaimed, poised for stadiums, dropped, burned out, back in the game and beloved by those for whom rock is still everything. Now based in Nashville, and with his own label Gypsy Rose Records, he creates from a more real place than most. "I want to do something that means something to people," Tuk says, "because a lot of shit nowadays is so disposable and so plastic. I just don't connect with that. I'd like to do things that impact people positively. It's a weird time on the planet, so to have songs about hope, but not be cheesy about it, it's something I think we need with songwriting. That's the kind of music I want to hear." Again, there's that dichotomy he speaks of. "Rock 'n' roll is essentially the illusion of not giving a fuck, right? Like, you know Axl Rose was doing sit-ups and jump rope, and Paul Stanley was on a cardio machine, and they come out and act like it just happens. The point is I sit at that piano many hours, working on this stuff."

Slip is Paul Abbott’s response to his 3 day residency at OTO in 2023. It’s a continued exploration of the acoustic-digital hybrid drum setup Abbott has been developing for some time, which involves drum kit and synthetic sounds combined closely—through an entanglement of limbs and cables—in an intimate but strange relationship with each other.

Paul Abbott hasn’t had any formal musical training, but has a long history of making music, having collaborated for years with Seymour Wright, Pat Thomas, Michael Speers, Cara Tolmie, Anne Gillis and many others. Eventually, led by a profound suspicion of what is fixed or limited, Abbott began finding other ways to organise sound - or what he calls ‘material’:

“I wanted a way to 'persuade' or guide the possibility of something happening - my activity or the events of an algorithmic composition - for example, but without certainty or formalism. It felt to me, during playing, that certain ideas had a particular sort of shape, but more than the form of a line. I began to write alongside (before/after) playing the drums, and ‘characters’ began to enter the scene as a more wobbly, and therefore appropriate option to notation. Working with these characters allowed me to simultaneously approach body, imagination, language and music: without dividing things up or separating these aspects from each other. It allowed me to leave things messy and entangled, whilst trying to deal with form and specificity: wanting to have some things feel or respond differently to other things at other times.”

In approaching his residency, Abbott developed a fixed cast of characters - crystal, lleaf, reiy.F, reiy.C, strike, nee, qosel, sphu and aahn. They each communicate using different kinds of movement and drum kit/s, and Abbott choreographed them as ‘dances’ based on different feelings, or outlines of behaviours suggestive of ways of moving (body, drums, sounds). He then arranged these characters into ‘compositions’: one for each performance day, with each composition featuring multi-layered activity - options for behaviours, ways to move around the rooms, play drums, develop synthetic sounds, change the lights or re-distribute the sound in the space.

After the performances, Abbott took home 9 hours of recordings split into up to 28 multitrack channels for each day, and re-organised his cast once more into a performance for 2LP, CD and digital. It’s an enormous amount of work - but Abbott is activated by the process. For him, the pleasure of unstable edges, possibilities, slippages, is the vital attraction. Like all living organisms, Abbott’s characters have malleability and responsivity. They stimulate a bundle of possible behaviours, a tendency to act a certain way, a temperament, a boundary of respective limits or affordances.

It’s an affective way of working, inclusive of Roscoe Mitchell, Sun Ra, Nathaniel Mackey and Milford Graves. In ‘Pulseology’(2022), Milford Graves reminds us, ‘Breath varies, so cardiac rhythm never has that (metronomic) tempo. It’s always changing. All the alignments of the heart are determined based on the needs of the cells, specifically tissues and organs. The heart knows if it needs to speed up.’ In Slip, to slip, in a heartbeat, is to descend not into the grid of the even metre accorded to the heartbeat, but into a play of mutability and modality. To change is the condition of the heart.

Fragments was a completely new way of working for us. We’ve always worked with an internal brief, creating documents, pictures and videos, simply because keeping an idea on track with three individuals can be difficult. It's easy for someone to be edged out of the creative process when the focus is not clearly defined.
It’s a formula we’ve used since the early 2000s, but things have changed a lot since then, particularly when we decided to dip our collective toes into supporter memberships with Patreon. It made us think about what we could do directly for our support- ers rather than just the next album or project. At first, the whole thing felt odd and uncomfortable, but we decided that we’d try a few things and ask for feedback.
"Fragments" was initially a way for us to see how we could include others in an ongoing creative process. There was no over-arching concept, no defined characteristics or purpose, just the promise that there would be at least one new track for members to download every month. Consequently, we never knew what was coming next, so the old, very focused working method was irrelevant. It was difficult for us to let individual tracks go without knowing what was coming next, but this also made the project more interesting.
And then C19 hit and we were forced to continue the project remotely from our home studios. As difficult as the disruption was, it was during this period that we realised we could re-organise and remaster the individual tracks into a coherent album, captur- ing a specific moment in time and drawing a line under the first phase of the project.
Like our "Allegory" EPs, we’ve tried to keep everything stripped back. We used to hide many subtle elements within the layers, but not so much this time.
Fragments is our journey through many changes, both self-im- posed and those imposed upon us, and it ultimately led us to create things differently. We hope you like it.




b A2















r D1 b Yes Hello (Remastered BONUS) 1:53
s D2 No JuJu (Man Power Version - Remastered BONUS) 4:27
t D3 Cup Noodle (Unemployed Youth Version - Remastered [BONUS]) 5:43
[u] D4 Black Smoke (They Never Got Started) (Remastered [BONUS]) 2:18
[v] D5 Concrete Concentration (Remastered [BONUS]) 3:21
[b] They All Live In The Past (Remastered [BONUS]) 1:06

There are artists we occasionally happen across, even 14 years into our FatKidOnFire journey, where we know we need to work with them. There is material from said artists which sets our world on fire, and then there’s the four tunes that make up our first physical record in over two years. This one’s a long time coming, and also marks one of the first instances in FKOF Records where we welcome an artist to the family with a straight-to-record release. When you hear it, you’ll understand why. This is the long overdue FKOFv009…

Over the last decade and a half, the 140 landscape has been through its peaks and troughs. Tastes and styles change, but the one constant is when we find the right beats, bass and space we know we’re onto a winner. The international TRAKA collective caught our eyes and ears early on in their project – for all the right reasons. We’re delighted to welcome them to FKOF Records with a long-overdue record, as well as welcoming long time FKOF fam Oddkut back into the fold.



“The ninth outing on FKOF Records’ physical imprint opens with the anthemic voice of Rider Shafique joining forces with TRAKA for ‘Soo’. Hard-hitting truths, juddering percussion and a rolling low end so solid you can almost chew on it. Keep fighting and rise.

“Next up, we ratchet things up a notch with ‘Shock Em Up’. It’s an absolute unit of a tune, and when we get asked for what we mean by beats, bass and space this is our 2024 example. Effective heavyweight sonic warfare.

“FKOF009’s B-side opens with ‘Silus' – continuing along the foundations TRAKA laid on the A-side. Suffocating power, engaging atmospherics and a vibe that works at peak time on the dancefloor as well as it does opening or closing out the graveyard slot.

“We close out the record welcoming Oddkut back for his latest outing on FKOF Records with the TRAKA collab ‘Shake Junt’. It twists and turns through its first drop, before taking a completely new direction in the break. It’s an absolute groove and one that’s been a firm favourite for as long as it’s been in the bag.”

OOOOH! by Alex Bad Baby Lukashevsky with Cocoa Corner (2025)

Celebrated veteran of Toronto’s music scene, known for his boundary-pushing approach to folk and avant-garde music, twists rock music into strange and brilliant new shapes with the help of young jazz players, U.S. Girls, and his own immensely talented son.



OOOOH! is hard on the outside and soft on the inside. Made in the spirit of unity,
humanity, and poetry — disobediently renouncing the glory of personal triumph for the
generosity of an honest experiment. On the last track of the album you’ll hear “Or do you only ever never want to make a single enemy? / That’s not freedom or humility / It’s nothing, honestly.” Oooh, that's a bad baby!

A celebrated Toronto songwriter and performer, Alex Lukashevsky has always been disobedient. Which simply means, nothing is off the table when he’s looking for his
poetic voice; when trying to find the realest I of the teller. As he sings on the lead track “that musician that’s dead” The musician is radical/ it’s the world that’s demented/ listening with their eyes, the music looks dented/ they’re over-represented.
OOOOH! was recorded in January 2024 at Sound Department in Toronto, engineered by Patrick Lefler (ROY), mixed by Grammy-nominated producer Matt Smith. All the songs were tracked live off the floor in two days, with one extra day for recording vocals, to keep the recording fully alive and breathing. As leader of Deep Dark United, as a solo performer, and a sideman in Brodie Wests’ Eucalyptus and Luka Kuplowsky’s Ryokan Band, Alex has been an outsized influence on the Toronto music scene that spawned acts like Broken Social Scene and Owen Pallett. (Pallett, who has toured with Lukashevsky, went so far as to record an entire album’s worth of Alex’s songs, backed
by a full orchestra.)

Lukashevsky has approached each of his albums and projects as something completely new, using only the musical boundaries he creates with each song. Even when he
has recorded songs with nothing but his voice and his own acoustic guitar accompaniment, the results are never “stripped down” or “back to basics,”
Gong! How do you get to heaven / have fun! have fun!
It’s cool to approach music as a game of “spot the influence”; Burt Bacharach-meets-Black Flag; Lana Del Rey-meets-LCD Soundsystem etc. Glorified mash-ups are promising because of their conversational nature. But they can turn us into hyperboreans; blowing cold air beyond ourselves while doing what we can to remain warm. To devise a game or a narrative is to have a winner and a loser, but we all know that just as you win/ so you lose. And does anything really change? Alex Lukashevsky and Cocoa Corner are more at ease drawing blind contours or playing an old game like consequences. They let things add up without knowing particularly how. Cognition is recognition.

Lukashevsky, in addition to writing all the songs, plays guitar and sings on OOOOH!, doing both in ways that are soulful and spikey at the same time. Joining him on guitar and vocals is his oldest child, Charlie Lukashevsky, who, at 23, is already a talented performer and songwriter in his own right. Cocoa Corner also includes Aidan McConnell, an in-demand drummer and composer, Jack Johnston, a jazz bassist and Barry Harris acolyte, and percussionist Evan Cartwright (The Weather Station, U.S. Girls, Cola, Tasseomancy), who plays steel pan and marching drum.

Working with his son and with other younger musicians is central to the album’s
unpredictable aesthetic. It reinvigorated the sound in unexpected ways. Lukashevsky says, “I had to reconsider my own instincts. I had to deal with being 99 years old.”
In addition to these performers, the album includes a tasty contribution from Meg
Remy, the visionary musician and producer who is the leader of the critically acclaimed
project U.S. Girls. Remy duets with Lukashevsky on the imagistic and sprawling album
closer “things keep happening.”
About that album title: OOOOH! is taken straight from “that musician that’s dead” an
arch and unhinged comment on the exertion required to navigate a lifetime of music making.
Lukashevsky’s delivery of that one emotive word is a kind of cultural posture, but also a
hundred percent primitive expression. The impact is never less than visceral. His vocal
delivery ranges through rich baritone blues to keening falsettos to a kind of sprechstimme that periodically steps out from the music to grab the listener’s shirt. He
doesn’t sound too nice, but he is sincere. When life gives you lemons lament.
For OOOOH! his first official full-length album since 2012’s Too Late Blues, (a collection of knotty-yet-effervescent tunes built upon the enchantingly serpentine harmonies of Lukashevsky and his vocal collaborators, Felicity Williams (Bahamas, Bernice) and Daniela Gesundheit (Snowblink, HYDRA)), Alex has once again broken apart and rebuilt his own approach to music. Or rather (because that sounds too over-determined), he
has allowed his music to build itself into strange new shapes that only fleetingly and
coincidentally, but happily, resemble anything that might be called rock and roll. There is some editorializing within the song’s lyrics— Lukashevsky even cheekily contributes to the “spot the influence” game with the line “Muddy Waters, Rite of Spring!” a funny preemptive strike against anyone already reaching for some variation of avant-blues to describe what the song is up to here. In fact there are many names checked on this record (literally and in spirit); they are the lily pads that trace the path of this expression! Palestrina, Peter Pears and Benjamin Brittain, Andrés Segovia, Stravinsky, Lotte Lenya, Alice Coltrane, Skip James, Chuck Berry, D’Gary, Betty Carter, Mukhtiyar Ali, Chuck D, Yoko Ono, Hailu Mergia, David Bowie, Jane Siberry. rhythm is a skeleton mansion / haunted by melody / feckless prodigy / the world is under a spell / cast by some demon angel / Practice day and night / Try as hard as hell / no one can sing that well Musicians are often worried by the way in which they are prepared to fail rather
than how they would like to succeed; it’s such a deep concern that it tempers their creativity and shackles their process. Current cultural proclivities, tend to comfort a certain kind of artistic failure and abnegate another kind. How many testimonials, full of heartfelt care and investment, have you heard for Taylor Swift, and yet a craftsman like Chris Weisman is often dismissed easily as though he’s doing something anti-social. what’s throwing itself in my ears and my eyes / arrogant devil ad hominem christ.
The music you will hear on this recording veers off in multiple directions at once,
and features a rock and roll spirit with a divergent heart. This is no sclerotic clomp of the Average Rock Song, but in fact a flood of humanity in all its darkness and moodiness and unpredictability. If most performers make songs that are like sports cars or pickup trucks to drive around, Lukashevsky has built something more akin to a rowboat in a tree: it’s weird and beautiful.

Blazing onto ICONYC for its 21st release, Swiss sonic alchemist Shiffer makes a striking debut with the magnetic All I’ve Been EP. Celebrated for his emotional finesse and innate ability to connect with unexplored corners, Shiffer’s latest creation, including a lucious collaboration with Paul Brenning and capped off by Jonathan Kaspar’s trademark rework, is a tantalizing suite designed to echo in our timeless halls.

The journey begins with Shiffer & Paul Brenning’s opening manifesto, “All I’ve Been”, a track that unfurls with both confidence and caution, as if self-aware from its very first beat. Mechanical whirs and fractured frames give way to low-end swells that drive forward with an unrelenting undertow. Brenning’s unmistakable vocals start to break a warmer ground as they linger in the liminal space between today and tomorrow before slowly growing in gravitas. Suddenly, the piece begins to contort, drawing spellbinding figures as arresting arrangements and melodic flourishes allow for decompression. Imbued with a tantalizing breakdown that amplifies their exquisite use of negative space, “All I’ve Been” is a fascinating and intimate take that feels as expansive as it ever could.

The follow-up, “Urban Legends”, takes a bolder stance. Anchored by heavy drum programming that carves its place with deliberate force, the track is haunted by ghostlike vocal fragments that lend an unsettling, cinematic edge.. Out from the left field, Shiffer deploys undulating synthetics that intertwine with consummate ease as they glide under the spotlight. An alluring act that treads unhurried and unconcerned, “Urban Legends” operates at its own pace, far from the demands of a world lost in the metropolitan hustle, allowing us to bask in a lore of things that might or might never have happened.

Closing the release, ICONYC calls upon Cologne innovator Jonathan Kaspar, who delivers a singular reinterpretation of “All I’ve Been”. Immersed in iridescent textures, Kaspar layers lush, swelling pads over pulsing low frequencies, their ebb and flow punctured by flashes of distortion that spark like electric currents.. Reflective and equally immersive, Jonathan Kaspar’s take on “All I’ve Been” pushes the collaboration into a brash new terrain while retaining the spiritual ethos intact

"The Happening by Tomorrow Comes The Harvest is the least case, a provocative confrontation. It's a challenge or dare to the idea that music can be useful if we are able to experience it. I would imagine that to many, music having an objective beyond the listener doesn't make sense because the general thought is that Music is made for us to consume, to make us remember, to influence us and to make us feel something. The Happening does all those things but much more. What it does is expand the scope from us to "it". Creating and constructing music for the subject of existence is a tall order.

The concept of The Happening is about the beginning and the end of Time and Space; the initial point of when reality starts and its conclusional apex. In the beginning, there is a great light. And from this light, comes life. Life is lived until it isn't.

This is what The Happening implies. It speaks about a 9-minute frame in reality, used to emphasize something that happened a very long time ago, something that happened in its creation and what will eventually happen far in the future.

The Happening was of an accidental birth. The love child of three musicians (Jeff Mills, Prabhu Edouard and Jean-Phillippe Dary) who was just asked to play "something" so that the camera crew could have extra b-roll for all the previous footages of the band while they were working in the recording studio in the North of Paris for their album Forbidden Planet. There was no discussion of what they'll do, no plan, no direction other than to use music to reach a level of consciousness.

Somehow within these transformative 9 minutes, something was felt by each of them, explored to its furthest point, which lead to this extraordinary creation. The Happening refers to the life and death of everything living thing. Infinity."

Jeff Mills

2025 Repress

FINALLY! The very first commercial release of two legendary remixes of Arthur Russell's "In The Light Of The Miracle". Both are widely regarded as transcendent masterpieces and very much befitting of the title “holy grails”.

These long-beloved mixes are the types you'd wish would last for eternity. With almost 30 minutes of music here, we very nearly get our desires granted. At last, these jaw-dropping mixes are widely available to every Arthur fan in the world. This is musical perfection.

The deep Loft classic "In The Light Of The Miracle" remained unreleased during Arthur's lifetime, finally discovered when Phillip Glass included the original version on Another Thought on Point Music in 1993. As Steve Knutson told us, when Another Thought was being put together, the plan was to release a companion album of remixes that was overseen by Steve D'Aquisto but the project only got as far as these two remixes of "In The Light Of The Miracle".

Some dodgy scans of some centre label designs suggest that Point Music might’ve been planning to release these on a 12" but it didn’t happen. The story goes that Gilles Peterson heard the remixes on a visit to the Point Music offices and wanted to release them on Talkin’ Loud. We’re not sure how many white label copies made it out into the wild, but again, these remixes didn’t make it to a proper release.

These remixes both extend and undeniably enhance the original, elevating it to new heights. The 13 minute remix on the A-side is by Danny Krivit & Tony Smith with editing duties performed by Tony Morgan. As ever with Arthur, the music is almost impossible to describe: is it Disco? Garage House? Avant Garde? None of these tags do full justice to its sheer majesty. You best just listen. Stretching out the original with some unbelievably great percussive elements, until we're in a deeply spiritual, otherworldly realm, it's just too beautiful for words. As many have claimed, it's the prototype for EVERYTHING.

The "Ponytail Club Mix (Part 1 & 2)", produced by Tony Morgan in the mid-90s, is in a more up-tempo style, with vocals higher in the mix, the BPM upped to 120 and the addition of a housey 4/4 kick drum. A 14 minute epic, you could say this is a more straight ahead "club-friendly" mix (but can things ever be that straightforward with Arthur?!) It also has some really interesting vocal parts not used in the other versions, including some vocals from guest poet Allen Ginsberg.

These remixes are part of the same original project that also produced the Another Thought album so it seems only right that they have a sleeve that matches. Thanks again to Janette Beckman for letting us use another of her photos of Arthur and the rest of the design follows what Margery Greenspan, Tina Lauffer and Michael Klotz did for Another Thought back in 1994.

Simon Francis remastered the original audio for both tracks and Cicely Balston's precise cut for Alchemy at AIR Studios ensures this 12" well and truly slaps. The immaculate Record Industry pressing will ensure this incredibly sought-after treasure finds a home in many more collections, this and every year.

20,000 fans were there for The Beatles’ first appearance in Canada at the open-air Empire Stadium, Vancouver. The boys’ set lasted just under half an hour and they forgot to play ‘I Want To Hold Your Hand’. The show was broadcast live by local radio station CKWX and the engineer only got the balance right on the fourth song, the vocals on the previous songs had too much distortion. It almost didn’t happen as the airline pilot didn’t have the correct paperwork for entering Canada, and the group only got to the venue at 9.15pm. The fans loved it but the critics were less impressed. “Seldom in Vancouver’s entertainment history have so many paid so much for so little” said Jack Wasserman, covering for Owl Prowl radio show.

It’s been ten years since Drew Lustman aka FaltyDL last released on Planet Mu. In the meantime he's been running his own label Blueberry Records, been in-house producer for Mykki Blanco and has become a dad. The best things come out of play and it was Drew’s relationship with his young daughter that switched on this playful side of his music. The album in question, ‘Neurotica,’ expresses Drew’s fun in creating such energetic pieces people will want to move to. It's a dizzying sugar-rush at a high-speed bounce; the music is fresh and inviting and most important of all, joyful."Summer of ’24, we were in Catalonia. My girl, our young daughter, the old folks. Days by the village pool, afternoons on the dirtbike. At night, I made salads. Simple things. Good things. One afternoon, lying back, phone in hand, I saw a friend post a GRWM. The music behind it stopped me. A song grabbed hold. The track was ‘Secret’ by Mietze Conte, which is fast-paced euro-pop dance music, like soft fluffy gabber with childlike vocals. I hunted down the full version. Played it again. And again. Twenty times over the next few days. It unlocked something. The best music does that. Like the first time I heard Burial. Had to know what was happening under the surface. That time, it led to ‘Love Is A Liability’ in 2009. This time, it led to ‘Neurotica.’“ “I started to record, getting down fast, bright, sugar-rush sounds. 185 to 200 BPM. I wrote them quick—half a day per track. In between, I slowed things down. Gave space for breath. Mike Paradinas helped shape the album, his ear guiding the flow. I tested the tracks. Played them for kids barely out of diapers and grown folks who still move like they are. It worked, on all ages. I kept it simple. Only two rules: keep it moving and don’t look at my phone. Cut the vocals like I used to.” ‘Neurotica’ is FaltyDL with his mojo refreshed, a new life squared, do yourself a favour, crack a smile and feel the joy.

“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.

‘Best tunes for your answering machine’ is the debut album of oblique, introspective electronic music by the mysterious solo artist Tekamolo.

Fusing melancholic synth pop and absurdist trip hop, ‘best tunes for your answering machine’ is a special assemblage of pitch-modified vocals, retrofuturist samples and freeform electronics that coalesces into music both outlandish and bittersweet, playful and profound.

Produced by a renowned artist, opting to conceal their identity under the guise of a new pseudonym, Tekamolo presents a series of curious, incognito confessionals with ‘best tunes for your answering machine’. An album led by a voice like a sentient, heavy-hearted android, the nine tracks collected here contend with themes of inertia, solitude and longing, revealing an inspired, affecting stream of messages from an unknown caller.

Without preconceptions tied to provenance, this is music liberated from the burdens of biographical detail. Music that eschews ego and the cult of the self. An album that can be heard purely for the strange, poignant sounds unfurled throughout.

For Tekamolo, the album signifies an attempt to navigate aesthetic reductionism, as well as an absolute sense of seclusion:

“An audio diary of a lonely soul. Broken, wounded mantra-songs. Memories of things that never happened. Dreams that never had the chance to be dreamed. Disassembled songs. As if testing the limits of emptiness — how much void can a song endure while still remaining a song? How much can be stripped away, how bare can it be, and still, the groove lingers, the melody pierces the memory, sinking into the listener's mind.

These are the skeletons of songs, an attempt to assemble music from the bare minimum — words, sounds, fragments of memory.

The songs are filled with desperate calm. They are not sung to the world, nor to anyone tangible, but solely to oneself and to the unseen. In a way, they could be considered songs of the end of the world: you wake up, and there is not a single person left in the world. At least, no one you can see. You wander through empty streets and deserted shopping malls, humming softly to yourself, hoping that someone — anyone — might hear you.”

‘best tunes for your answering machine’ is a sui generis conception of warped 21st century blues from an enigmatic figure, a work filled with surreal, indelible songs of modern isolation. Lost contemporary hymns, now recovered. Voicemails worth hearing.

For most members of the band it's the best album. But, tragically, the release of Operation Heavenly in 1996 was overshadowed by the sudden death of drummer Mathew Fletcher. The promotional tour was cancelled, the surviving members of the band went into emotional hibernation and no-one could bring themselves to celebrate these vibrant, upbeat songs. So, this release by Skep Wax Records, nearly thirty years on, is more like an album launch than a re-issue. Time has healed most wounds, and the songs on Operation Heavenly feel like they can finally emerge onto the stage, with Mathew's spirit very much alive: his effervescent witty drumming sounding as fresh now as it did then. These tracks are gleeful, melodic, sophisticated and knowing. The tough riot grrrl edge that Heavenly had developed a year before with seminal singles P.U.N.K. Girl and Atta Girl, has been blended with a deliberate quantity of Britpop styling. Heavenly were clearly listening to what was going on, liked the energy, but didn't necessarily feel the need to join in. Some of the tracks (eg Ben Sherman) are as jaunty as early Blur, but the lyrics, mocking a narcissistic boyfriend for his obsession with hair, clothes and his own erections, show that Heavenly didn't need or want to be part of the la - or even ladette - herd. Operation Heavenly was the band's first release on a label other than Sarah Records. Matt Haynes and Clare Wadd had brought that exceptional label to a deliberate and dramatic end. The liaison with US punk label K Records continued - as did the duets with Calvin Johnson: Pet Monkey is a moving duet between a growling Calvin Johnson and a sweet-voiced Cathy Rogers, as they dramatize another complex, maybe doomed relationship, with another self-centred boy finding himself frustrated by a girl who won't take any shit. But in the UK, Heavenly needed to find a new home - and Wiija Records were welcoming hosts, ushering the band into a brasher, less cloistered world: the production on this album is brighter than before, the artwork is colourful and upbeat. With tracks as catchy and as complete as Fat Lenny, Trophy Girlfriend and Space Manatee there was an expectation that Heavenly might finally emerge from the indiepop shadows and trouble the charts. And who knows if this might have happened. Mathew was lost before the album was released, and the band had no choice but to bring things to an end. This reissue also contains two tracks that appeared on the B side of the 7" single of Space Manatee. They are both cover versions, and along with Serge Gainsbourg's Nous Ne Sommes Pas Des Anges on the main album, these vivacious assaults on Art School by The Jam and You Tore Me Down by The Flamin' Groovies show that the band, briefly in its prime, could happily embrace any variant of pop music and make it something Heavenly.

Anchored in the charmingly warm vocal presence that McNown partly honed by busking at the beach in Southern California just a few years ago, Night Diving (The Cost of Growing Up) takes the latter half of its title from a gorgeously textured track that perfectly exemplifies his newly refined sound. With its rootsy and ethereal instrumentation—luminous steel guitar, lush mandolin, soulful organ—“The Cost of Growing Up” arrives as a clear-eyed but melancholy meditation on the inevitability of pain. “To me, the cost of growing up is an acceptance that difficult things are going to happen—from minor inconveniences to devastating loss, it’s all a part of life,” says McNown. “But there’s also beauty in that because, without those hard moments, you wouldn’t be able to truly love.”

Emotional Rescue completes the series of non-defined reissues where the label licenses an all-time favourite, remasters and then reappraised with new interpretations by contemporary producers for today’s collectors.

After the series started back in 2019 with Hawkwind’s sprawling psychedelic electronics, featuring deep drone mixes by the esteemed digger Cherrystones (ERC074), the bouncing cosmic-Balearics of Thomas Leer with wonderful reworkings by friend and producer Bullion (ERC075) and then the post punk dubs of The Embrace and Timothy J Faiplay’s brooding italo-dub excursions (ERC076), there was always one artist and producer left out. Finally, then the percussive excursion of the early 80s band The Impossible Dreamers and their cult B side jam, Spin, coming with 9 minutes percussion-dub extravaganza of an extended reversion, plus a dub heavy reprise, by label go-to Dan Tyler (Idjut Boys /Noid), under his NAD moniker.

Started by a group of friends while at Exeter University that centered around Caroline Radcliffe, James Hood, Justin Adams and Nick Waterhouse, their debut 12” record is one of just three on the 100 Things To Do label. The other two releases have already been covered with the Hamburger All Stars ‘Swinging London’ 12” (ERC114) of 2022.

Recorded before the move to West London, ‘Life On Earth’ was a raw post punk vocal pop cut, with influences of dub, funk, hip-hop and African music shining through, there were in their own words, “young music fans starting out, with no agenda”.

However, it was on the B side that things got interesting. Enamored by the growing trend of extended 12” singles, they decided, with the A side wrapped up, to have some studio experimentation by recording a drumming jam, with all the members playing percussion, followed by some overdubbing. Memories are hazy, but at the time the band was an 8-piece, so the results a chaotic explosion, capturing the essence of that time. Featuring Nick and James on 4 hand piano, plus Caroline on Oboe, with some additional hollering and wooping vocals, Spin was a 5-minute burst of energy.

In effect, self-released in 1982, the band didn’t expect much to come of it, but the 12” acted as a calling card leading them to London and later signing for RCA. At the same time, Spin was being discovered in the early eighties alternative club world. On a trip to New York, the track was heard being played Downtown, and on enquiring it was discovered the DJ was playing a 7” that was never an official release but cut in the US solely for the club DJs there.

Its resonance extended further, to Italy and the Cosmic club of the resident, an ever-searching Danielle Baldelli, before being picked up a few years later by a young Andrew Weatherall during his pursuit of an alternative “Balearic” beat during the late eighties Summers of Love and has even recently received the Joe Clausell edit treatment back again in NYC.

For the remake to fit the label series, it was only right to ask label friend Dan Tyler to do what he does so well, putting the original through his array of dub machines and pedals, extending and cutting with aplomb to create an incendiary ‘Reversion’ that will send dancefloors literally in a spin. Teasing the percussion incandescent, looping and teasing, the piano held back before finally releasing in a haze of dub effects.

This is followed by the ‘Riddim Reprise’. Working with London based drummer Matt Bruce (Claptrap), this is the perfect DJ tool, taking the original idea of the band, to just jam see what happens, twisting it full of space echo and reverb, to offer a perfect 12” Extended Mix.

FOLLOW UP TO THE CRITICALLY ACCLAIMED 2023 ALBUM ‘RPB’ (UTR151):

- #4 MOJO FOLK ALBUMS OF THE YEAR+ FOLK ALBUM OF THE MONTH:
“ IT MELTS TRAD TECHNIQUES AND MINECRAFT BURBLE INTO ‘A MASSIVE, MULTI-PLAYER ONLINE DREAM’ . INCOMPREHENSIBLE/IRRESISTIBLE’

‘ME LOST ME’S RPG (UPSET THE RHYTHM) IS AN EXCITING, IMAGINATIVE ALBUM EXPLORING THE LINKS BETWEEN TRADITIONAL INFLUENCES AND ELECTRONICS IN FERTILE WAYS.’ THE GUARDIAN - FOLK ALBUMS OF THE MONTH.

'FROM NEWCASTLE, VIA UPSET THE RHYTHM, JAYNE DENT EXPLORES FOLK ART AND FUTURISM TO SPELLBINDING EFFECT' THE QUIETUS

FULL PAGE REVIEW IN WIRE MAGAZINE:"ME LOST ME'S NEW ALBUM RPG IS FILLED WITH STORIES OF ADVENTURE AND SELF-DISCOVERY IN VERDANT NATURAL LANDSCAPES, SUNG WITH FEELING AND CLARITY"

Me Lost Me - the project of Newcastle-based artist Jayne Dent - delights in experimenting with songwriting, creating a beguiling mix of soaring vocals and atmospheric electronics that playfully push the boundaries of genre.

On Me Lost Me’s fourth full-length, This Material Moment - arriving on Upset the Rhythm on 27th June - she has created an “emotionally raw” album, her most honest and vulnerable yet.

Concerned with physicality, interpretations, and, yes, materiality, This Material Moment is an album akin to rummaging through a box of long-forgotten trinkets. With each song, Me Lost Me extracts something from the box and asks us to consider it from every angle. "This is an album which uses words as a material, a playful tool for experimentation, full of metaphor, abstraction and analogies.” Jayne says, “it has softness and anger, humour, hope and despair, intensity of feeling in all directions expressed as textures, objects, places."

With the release of This Material Moment Me Lost Me puts into practice the automatic writing techniques she developed during a workshop with Julia Holter, and in the process has spun her music in different directions that draws on poetry, psalms and using mesostic poems and phonetic translations to generate words. “Despite the chance-based writing strategies throughout, it feels like the most emotionally raw album I've ever made,” she says, likening the process to a Rorschah test which revealed things to her she wasn’t expecting to express. “I wanted to hide in stories, but I saw things plainly when I tried to write.” Having finished the writing process, Jayne realised that she had an unexpectedly personal album on her hands, into which her feelings of burnout and overwhelm had crept unconsciously. “Several of the songs for me express a kind of inner conflict, where you’re trying to keep hope and desire and beauty and art near to your heart, to live a meaningful life, but finding that increasingly hard to hold onto in a world that’s so fucked up.”

Whilst Jayne Dent’s music as Me Lost Me has previously presented time stretching back and forwards in opposition (noticeably on 2023’s album RPG), on This Material Moment she does away with linearity altogether, evoking rather than narrating, and presenting feelings, happenings and moods with no clear beginning or end point - “like experiencing a vista, trying to capture a moment that is unfolding all at once”. Instead, each track on This Material Moment exists entirely in media res, adjacent to past and future, and instead sprawling across the endless now.

This Material Moment was written and arranged solo, but played with a core band of John Pope on electric/double bass, Faye MacCalman on clarinet, and now with the addition of Ewan Mackenzie (Dextro/Pigs x7) on drums - bringing in live drums and electric bass for the first time. The album was recorded by Sam Grant at Blank Studios in Newcastle, who also worked on RPG.

"Chasing the funky symphonies that filled my head and my dreams..."

December 25th, 2023 - an Instagram post. Stimulator Jones shared half a dozen FIRE tracks from his beat tape archive. We were immediately drawn to the rough hewn boom bap.

"I'd release that", Rob commented.

Hours of material was shared and the result is this: Cool Green Trees (1999-2005). A collection of beats and loops Stimulator Jones created between the ages of 14-20 at home in his basement, bedroom and computer room in Roanoke, Virginia.

You will not believe the profound soulful genius contained within these naive schoolboy melodies.

December 25th, 1998 - 25 years ago to the day and his much-coveted Yamaha SU10 sampler was finally bestowed upon young Stimmy AKA Sam Lunsford: "I immediately hooked up a CD Walkman to the input jack and looped the beginning two bars of Grover Washington Jr.'s "Mercy Mercy Me". I don't know what exactly was so thrilling about hearing two measures of music repeating over and over but it was so infectious and hypnotizing and enthralling to me. I'll never forget that ecstatic rush of making my first loop - an uncontrollable, gleeful smile plastered all over my face." When you hear the pocket breakbeat symphonies featured here on Cool Green Trees, you'll feel the same sense of frisson.

In the wake of his Stones Throw breakthrough - Exotic Worlds & Master Treasures - Stimulator Jones was pegged by many as a 90s throwback artist. However, he literally IS a 90s artist. He's been recording music most of his life and he's now 40. He created the bulk of Cool Green Trees as a teenager. Everything before 2004 was recorded when Sam was still in school. He was in 8th grade when he made the 1999 tracks - he didn't even have his learner's permit. This album is a snapshot of a young man in a simpler time. Things were still mysterious back then and he was flying blind, relying on his ears and having to figure things out for himself: "I had no road map for becoming a beatmaker. I have been collecting music since I was a kid, I am a lifelong digger and seeker of cool and interesting sounds. I was there in the golden age of Hip Hop, and while I may have been a suburban white kid in Roanoke, Virginia, I was tuned in and I bought so many classic albums when they came out. I was attracted to Hip Hop because of the musical and poetic quality. I was hypnotized by the rhythms, partially because I was a drummer. I didn't brag about collecting my breakbeat records or making beats - it was something I did in isolation. It wasn't something I generally wanted to bring attention to and it didn't really score me any cool points. I certainly wasn't flexing on social media about it."

Hell, he can do that now!

Opener "Pharoah Jones" was inspired by Yesterday's New Quintet and Madlib's ability to capture that classic 70s sound whilst playing all the instruments. Sam created this one stoned afternoon by laying down a 2 bar loop and a shaker loop on his Yamaha SU700 sampler. He hung a microphone from the ceiling and played his Yamaha Stage Custom drum kit over the top before adding ender Rhodes and playing his dad's Selmer tenor sax through an Electro Harmonix Memory Man echo pedal. Yes! Up next, "Ghost Gospel" utilises a dope loop from a gospel record and adds some soul-funk drums overtop, whilst working that filter knob. Says Sam: "The loop reminded me of something Ghostface would rap over. The sample was in 3/4 waltz time but I flipped it for a 4/4 groove, a technique I picked up from RZA. "Ill Feeling" uses sped-up pieces from a dusty old funk record and putting them over a classic NOLA drum loop; gain chopping up a slow, bluesy 3/4 time signature and bending it to a 4/4 groove. Classy shit. "Capital Punishment" features drums tapped in live, inspired by MF Doom's Special Herbs series. "Do Not Adjust" consists loops found on a compilation of 70s French music at Happy's Flea Market, a classic Roanoke digging spot.

The sublime, evocative title track, "Cool Green Trees" was created when Sam was still living at home. He dumped samples off his SU10 into the family desktop and arranged them in a demo version of Pro Tools: "This track was sort of my ode to the DJ Shadow style of sample based production. Super spacey, slow, and moody. The heavily filtered drums were inspired by Alec Empire's 'Low on Ice' album. I later added some scratches and sounds from a Spider Man storybook record." "Chill Scratch" snags the final bit of a bossanova record and pairs it with a drum loop before adding experimental scratching run through an Electro Harmonix Memory Man echo pedal. "Poisonous Fumes" was made using a sampler, mixer and a turntable; a kind of mixtape beat collage with added scratches and sounds from various records. Using dialogue from superhero records was a nod to Madlib. "Welcome Aboard The Starship" is dark, downtempo trip-hop with a spooky bent. Sam paired a slow, hard drum loop with a guitar sample grabbed off a psychedelic rock record. To finish, he added various backwards sounds and weird atmospheric effects and a little scratching. Swoon.

Side B opens with "Keep On Runnin", made on a borrowed Roland SP202 sampler. Having always loved the sound of the Lo-Fi filter on those machines, reminiscent of the Emu SP1200, Sam always imagined Del or another of the Hieroglyphics crew rapping over this beat. You can certainly hear why. "Sounds Impossible" sees Sam experimenting with layering multiple kick samples at different volumes to create patterns similar to those heard by Showbiz and Lord Finesse during their God-level 1995 period. "Painted Faces" was made by chopping up a REDACTED record which he had gotten from Happy's Flea Market and paired it with a REDACTED drum loop. By the time Sam recorded "The Knew Style", he had acquired a shitty old 1960s portable turntable off eBay. It didn't function properly when he bought it but his brother opened it up, cleaned it out and got it working: "I remember he told me that there was a bunch of sand inside of it when he opened it up, as if its previous owner had taken it to the beach. I would take that turntable on my Happy's Flea Market digs so I could preview records...that's how I found this loop."

"Chicken Wing Blues Sauce" loops up a classic blues joint and pairs it with some REDACTED drums. A bit of filtering and arranging et voilà! "Kool Breeze", from 1999, is one of Sam's oldest surviving beats, as is "Sexx Bullets". The Roots sampled the same record, leaving Sam frustrated yet vindicated. "Soul Child" was an early SU10 creation, looping a dusty old Soul Children 45 and pairing it with 70s rock drum loops to great effect. "Take Off Runnin" was another loop found digging with a portable turntable. Paired with some boom bap drums it makes for a hypnotic head-nod groove. "Centurian" was intended to be a little beat interlude a la Pete Rock. The sample is from a sun-dappled soft-psych record and it's paired with a Robin Trower drum loop that just happens to fit perfectly. Sometimes you slap things together kind of haphazardly and magic happens. "Bozack" was the first beat Sam made using Pro Tools, his first foray into using chopped sounds instead of loops, an exciting new world. "Church" is beat interlude using a Phil Upchurch loop with the "Long Red" drums - a favourite break of Dilla et al. Sam was really on a tear in late 2004, probably because he was unemployed and phoneless and able to just make beats all day. He made "Splash One" on a borrowed Yamaha SU700 and again was experimenting with tapping the drums in live with his fingers, instead of using a loop or sequenced pattern. Channeling 9th Wonder, Sam used a water splash sound effect from a Batman record as a percussive element, hence the title (also a 13th Floor Elevators reference). The main loop is a backwards portion of one of his favourite Roy Ayers songs.

"Hank" is another fun little beat interlude thing, created on a borrowed Roland SP202 sampler with the fantastic Lo-Fi effect that resembled the Emu SP1200 at a fraction of the price. "73 goatee", from 99, is another of his oldest surviving beats, created in his bedroom with his Yamaha SU10 and his brother's Vestax MR-300 4-track recorder: "This one will always feel special. I can remember having a feeling all the way back then on the night that I created it that this was a solid beat with a catchy loop. There was something in the Fender Rhodes melody that resonated with me emotionally, and I had never heard a producer sample that portion before. I felt like I had found my own unique sound, my own unique loop. It came from an Ahmad Jamal '73. I actually even recorded myself rapping and scratching over this beat way back then, I still have that version in all its imperfect sloppy glory."

Sam explains just how much these tracks mean to him: "They all have immense historical and sentimental value and I'm proud of them. These beats come from an innocent, simple time when I was just figuring out how to craft these sounds. They're something very personal to me. They are the initial part of a journey that I really was taking *alone*. There was no YouTube. I couldn't Google shit. I didn't even know any other beatmakers, producers or DJs in my town that could teach me anything. It was always just me, alone, in a room with some equipment - chasing the funky symphonies that filled my head and my dreams. What I was doing wasn't cool. Most of my peers thought I was a weirdo and couldn't care less. Creating these sounds was an anti-social endeavour. In a sense, I felt like it was me against the world, and all I had to instruct and assist me were the recordings produced by my heroes - RZA, DJ Premier, Erick Sermon, Beatminerz, Showbiz, Diamond D, Beatnuts, Prince Paul, The Bomb Squad, Pete Rock, Q-Tip, E-Swift, Mista Lawnge, DJ Shadow, Cut Chemist, Peanut Butter Wolf, El-P and so many more...I dedicate this collection to them, and to my older brother Joe who has always been a musical and technical guiding light for me.

This was a time before every kid was a self-described producer and beatmaker, before everyone had a DAW, before Kanye and "chipmunk soul", before Red Bull beat battles, before there was any social media beyond chat rooms and AOL Instant Messenger, before Soundcloud, before SP-404 mania, before lo-fi beats to study to, before Splice, before targeted ads for MIDI chord packs, etc. In 99 when I told people that I had a sampler and made beats I was mostly met with bewildered confusion and indifference. Kids and adults alike would wonder why I got this weird machine for Christmas instead of something worthwhile like a Playstation or a mountain bike or even a guitar for that matter because at least that could be used to make "real music". Back then, sampling was still not widely respected as an art form - it was seen as lazy, talentless and unoriginal at best and outright criminal theft at worst. I had gotten respect for playing drums and guitar and things of that nature but this was a step in the wrong direction in the eyes of many."

The cover photo is a picture of Sam standing on his back porch in the latter part of 1998, just before he got his first sampler. He was 13 years old, in 8th grade. His dad took the picture with his 35mm film camera: "I actually wanted to be pointing my dad's .22 pistol at the camera lens but he wouldn't let me. He gave me an old walking cane to use instead. The Tommy Hilfiger puffer jacket came from the lost and found at William Fleming High School where my mom worked as a secretary. I was thrilled when she brought it home because we never spent money on expensive name brand clothing like that - we were for the most part strictly a sale rack, bargain bin, thrift store, yard sale, flea market kind of family when it came to clothes. My watch is some cheap off-brand fake gold department store watch." Mastering for this vinyl edition was overseen by Be With regular Simon Francis and it was cut by the esteemed Cicely Balston at Abbey Road Studios to be pressed in the Netherlands by Record Industry.

There’s a particular magic that happens when seasoned producers with global roots come together under a shared ethos - not for hype, but for connection. That’s precisely what MISINGO represents. A cross-continental studio experiment born out of Covid-era isolation, the group spans hemispheres and histories: Yorkshire's Doorly, L.A. legend Gary Richards (aka Destructo), and Australian duo Colour Castle. Their debut offering, Give You Love, lands via UK House Music institution Hard Times Records, and it’s as emotionally resonant as it is built for the floor.

Anchored by a slow-burning acid line and moody, immersive synthwork, 'Give You Love' carries the DNA of classic house without feeling like pastiche. DJ Rae’s smokey vocal, recorded in Doorly’s Ibiza studio, sets the tone - raw, intimate, immediate. Gene Farris enters with a gravelly, magnetic counterpoint, flipping the call-and-response into something spiritual. It’s a record that feels both new and deeply lived-in, a jam session from afar that somehow lands with unity and purpose.

For the remix suite, Hard Times dig into family ties and deliver a heavyweight lineup that spans generations of dance music lineage.

First up, DJ Pierre, the Phuture pioneer himself, brings a Wild Pitch revision that is pure summer sleaze and shimmer. Glistening keys, kinetic snares, and a syrup-thick bassline collide in a mix that’s tailor-made for golden-hour sets and open-air systems.

DJ Romain brings that New York swing. All velvet chords, stabbing pianos, and organ swells that spiral skyward. It’s gospel-house energy that doesn’t need to shout to be heard, a reminder that soul still moves the dancefloor.

Closing out the package is Charles Lavine of Soul Clap fame, whose Boston-bred funk sensibility steers things into new territory. He strips back the mix, lets Rae’s vocal ride the groove, and injects a subtle bounce that turns heads and hips in equal measure.

With 'Give You Love', MISINGO and Hard Times haven’t just released a single, they’ve bottled a moment: one born of distance, stitched together with soul, and destined for collective release on dancefloors worldwide.

José James just can’t leave the ’70s alone. Or maybe it’s the other way around. The singer, songwriter, bandleader, and producer was born in 1978, after all, but over his past 17 years of fundamentally forward-looking, blessedly mercurial music, he keeps getting pulled back in. His 2013 Blue Note breakthrough No Beginning No End revisited the hooky, funky, jazz-streaked songcraft of the time through a modern crate-digger’s ears. On 2020’s No Beginning No End 2 — James’ debut on his own Rainbow Blonde Records — he went back through the portal with a small army of fellow celebrated eclecticists. Just last year, there was the album 1978, a richly layered love letter to said year that felt deep, luxe, and cool. It’s as if — vested with the restless fluidity of jazz, the tuned-in sensitivity of soul, and the revisionist grit of hip-hop — he is trying to play his way into the exact moment when, culturally speaking, everything was about to change.

“I'm still so fascinated by the tension in that era of all these seemingly clashing things happening at once,” says James. “The loft scene, the jazz scene, Elton and Billy, Bob Marley, the Isleys, Funkadelic, disco being this behemoth in a way I don't think we even understand today… And then there’s where everybody went from there — into hip-hop, into punk rock, exploding jazz. It's like a summation of the ’70s, and it's about to transform. It's the peak of the rollercoaster.”

Literally breaking into history is impossible, of course, but James’ new LP, 1978: Revenge of the Dragon, does feel like breaking through or bursting out. In loving contrast to its predecessor, the fresh set plays hot, like a Friday night out at the Mudd Club in its prime. Though he’s dreamt up albums with collaborator counts approaching the dozens, James gathered a tight crew for this one. Himself and Taali on vocals. BIGYUKI on keys and analog synth. Jharis Yokley on drums. Bass split between David Ginyard (Blood Orange, Terence Blanchard) and Kyle Miles (Michelle Ndgeocello, Nick Hakim). And an all-star brass lineup: Takuya Kuroda on trumpet, young lion Ebban Dorsey on alto sax, and genre-spanning ronin Ben Wendel on tenor sax. They set up in Dreamland Studios near Woodstock, a restored 19th century church, and recorded live to tape, two tracks, drums pushed to the max — “a small homage to the rise of punk,” says James.

In that place out of time, the band laid down a handful of choice covers and some wild originals, like the single “They Sleep, We Grind (for Badu),” a decades-collapsing cut powered by an ugly groove. Steeped in dub, funk, and sampledelia, James chants an artists’ mantra (“They sleep, we grind / Man, f--- your nine to five”), makes lyrical callouts to Marley and Nas, and channels everything from George Clinton to J Dilla, not to mention the earthy mysticism of Erykah Badu. In 2023, James released and toured his Badu covers LP, On & On. “Living in her musical house for a year was transformative,” he says. “This is my summary of everything I learned through her, tying it to this idea that artists move differently. We are in society but we are outside, too, looking out and in at the same time. Our hours are different, our schedules are different.”

To that point, James and co. actually began each day in the woods, filming the album’s visual companion piece, Revenge of the Dragon, an honest-to-God kung-fu short complete with bad overdubs, training montages, camera tricks, and plot twists. The film pays tribute not only to the genre’s greatest year (1978, of course), but also its cinematic exchange with Blaxploitation, plus James’ own recent Shaolin training and admiration for Bruce Lee as a culture-bridging force (the LP’s cover recreates an iconic shot of Lee). On top of that, says James, “We had this immediacy in the studio. Live, one take, no overdubbing. I feel like that's where the martial arts piece comes in, where it's about being relaxed but also aware, and there's immediacy in your movements.”

Across the project, tribute takes that refracted, multifaceted form. From his personal late-’70s playlist, James chose four covers reflecting the era’s disco-fied churn: the MJ-meets-Quincy dancefloor masterpiece “Rock With You”; Herbie Hancock’s prescient vocoder fever dream, “I Thought It Was You”; and a pair of Black-radio hits from two bands whose fans typically wouldn’t have been caught dead in the same stadium: “Miss You” by the Rolling Stones and the Bee Gees’ “Inside and Out.” All of it gets filtered through a contemporary Black (and beyond) lens, coming out loud, free, funky, and buzzing — dynamic, yes, but also of a joyous piece.

1978: Revenge of the Dragon transports you to a crowded room where all this is playing out in real time. That feeling is helped out by opener “Tokyo Daydream,” a bass-driven swan dive into a neverending night of boutique bar-hopping and neon revelry. Later, “Rise of the Tiger” finds James bringing rare braggadocio to a propulsive track with growling synth lines and a hunger for whatever comes next. And then there’s the closer, “Last Call at the Mudd Club,” which with its upbeat energy and string of Stevie-inspired pickup lines, evokes the sort of unabashedly elated track the DJ throws on at 3:56 a.m. before everyone is kicked out. “I wanted to leave the album on that note,” says James. “If this was a night out in New York, this would be the last thing you hear before you get in that taxi and go back to your apartment.” Or, perhaps, back to 2025.

This is a release that has been on the back burner for a few years now. Discussions started a while ago but so many distractions happened in-between (plus we released the excelled Amen Brother EP by EQ as well which distracted things for a while). But we got there and by god, we know how much this EP is loved by you guys... so super happy to have finally got it over the line.

This is a proper piece of grail... EQ and the amazing Mastersafe. They only released one record together, this one, back in 1994. Though trainspotters, anoraks and fans alike will be stoked to know that they actually made quite a few tunes together back then that were never released (though a few made it to dubplates)... and EQ has found all the DAT's, so keep on eye on Vinyl Fanatiks during 2025 for further treats by this duo!

"Throughout all my time as a musician and producer, ever since Jack the Tab, I've been focused on developing a single idea: Blending psychedelic sounds and effects with rhythm." Richard Norris, Strange Things Are Happening White Rabbit 2024

Over the past few years Eskimo Recordings have invited some of the best crate diggers around to curate compilations that don't just reveal the hidden contents of their record bags but something about themselves too. Now, following in the footsteps of the likes of Bill Brewster and Psychemagik, producer, musician, DJ, writer and more, Richard Norris, takes us on a globetrotting psychedelic journey with the epic 42 track collection, Mr Norris Changes Brains.

For over forty years Richard has played a part in many of the UK's most important music subcultures. Whether sharing stages with the likes of Tracey Thorn as a pubescent punk in St. Albans, or running freakbeat nights in Liverpool and working at the pioneering psychedelic label Bam Caruso, co-producing the UK's first acid house inspired LP with Throbbing Gristle's Genesis P. Orridge or riding the wave of creativity that the second summer of love unleashed all the way to the Top of the Pop studios as The Grid, Richard's career has continually seen him work to expand both his own and the public's musical horizons.

With Mr Norris Changes Brains it's the most recent part of his mercurial career that he's focused on. Drawing inspiration from his post 2006 adventures as one half of Beyond the Wizard's Sleeve, alongside Trash's Erol Alkan, this compilation shows how a more connected world has blown the dust off a paradoxically sometimes straightjacketed scene. The result is a dizzyingly wide-ranging collection that explores the further out there reaches of worldwide psychedelia and dancefloor mayhem.

"A lot of these tracks are fairly recent discoveries, things that I've discovered from around the time I started working with Erol and going right up to today," Richard explains. "Whether that's from going out to play and finding new records in places like Istanbul or just connecting with people online from all around the world. Psych can sometimes be a sort of narrow-minded field, with everything having to sit in its specific niche, but more and more people are open to new sounds and that's allowed for a much broader selection."

Despite their disparate origins what does unite these tracks is that they aren't just there to zone out to on a bean bag as projections of swirling coloured oils and psychedelic patterns wash over you. Mr Norris may change brains but his DJ sets also move feet, and whether it's their killer guitar riffs, oscillating synths floor shaking drums or soulful Hammond organs these are all cuts that from festival tents to underground clubs have proven time and time again to get people dancing.

"With a lot of these tracks there's a kind of fun element in them," says Richard. "It's still psychedelia, but they've also got these solid, funky grooves. They sound phenomenal on the dancefloor and as much as these records might excite old psych heads, this compilation is also for a new generation out there who might have never heard anything like this before and, just like when I was 18 and heard The 13th Floor Elevators for the first time, think 'Oh, my God, what on earth is this and more importantly what else is out there?'"

With a stream of fascinating appearances Cleyra’s singular production has caught the ears of some of the most adventurous DJs and heads around the world. One of Bristol’s best-kept secrets now lands on Timedance with their sumptuous debut EP ‘remember this body?’. Charged with a juxtaposition between feverish peak time and dreamy downbeat, the producer here displays a sonic palette which is as eerie as it is advanced.

On ’remember this body?’ Cleyra offers a kaleidoscopic view of their diverse approach to crafting songs, nourished with a deep, emotional and seductive energy. Across five tracks we take a deep dive into Cleyra’s idiosyncratic worlds. Subdued pads carry us through lucid-dream-inducing soundscapes where strangeness and elegance go hand in hand. Then come playful twists, as a harder side to their sound is unleashed, engineered to alight the sweatiest and most mutant of dancefloors.

On the flip side, Cleyra takes listeners on a breathtaking ride over the course of a 17-minute epic ’There Is Nothing Happening Between Us’, navigating between mournful ambience and heads-down pulsating Techno with a grace and delicateness rarely heard. The track fades before bringing things home with lush, dubbed-out, synths, suspending time with a poignant elegance

En pakt med naturen is Tusmorke's first ever live album, recorded live at Oslo's biggest independent record store Big Dipper, as part of their 25th anniversary celebration last October. "We knew we had to do something special with Tusmorke. Benediktator and Krizla have since the early 2000s been building their record collections and releasing their own music simultaneously. We like to think the records we sold them in our store somewhat influenced their musical output, at least we know that the albums they released had a huge impact on us!" (Andreas Leine Jakobsen, Gerenal Manager, Big Dipper Musikk & Hi-Fi "Is this Folk Horror? Silly question, perhaps, but we need you to mutter certain phrases while listening: Bucoloc, acoustic, ancient, uncanny; acid, pagan, peasant, occult; wildness, wilderness, wildestness, Wicker Man. Ever since the start of Tusmorke, we've wanted to make an acoustic album. In Skien, Telemark in the 90s, we wanted to record in an ancient loghouse with an open hearth (årestue) in the local folk museum Brekkeparken. Years passed and line-ups changed. Then, when we supported Ved Buens Ende at Blå in the Autumn of 2021, we were joined by Åsa and Dauinghorn. They played some of the arrangements that we finally managed to record here, after several attempts to find a suitable time and place to make it happen. Again, time had passed and line-ups had changed, but the spirit of Folk Horror remained. We ask you to close your eyes and picture yourself in a windowless low dwelling, open to the sky through a hole in the roof. Acrid smoke curls upward and occasional sparks fly from the smoldering fire. Music wafts through the gloom in this serene scene of timeless primitivism. There is no electricity. There are no synthesizers. I won't even mention digital things, because they don't exist. There is only Folk Horror and you are in League with Nature." (Benediktator)

The Catenary Wires are a group comprising Amelia Fletcher, Rob Pursey and Ian Button. Their critically acclaimed third album ‘Birling Gap’ was released in 2021. Since then, they have been focusing on their other bands, playing around the world with Heavenly (stars of the 90s indiepop scene) and Swansea Sound.
A couple of years ago, word reached Rob and Amelia that Brian had been spotted wearing a Heavenly t-shirt at one of his shows, and was a big fan of their music. Given that they, in turn, were fans of Brian’s poetry, introductions were made, friendships were formed, and ‘Sounds Made By Humans’ took shape.
The album isn’t a set of readings with musical backdrops: it’s a collection of songs, where words and music have become completely intertwined. There are verses, and there are choruses. There is no ‘riffing’, no improvisation. In many ways, Brian’s poems are already like pop songs: brief, direct, and witty; sometimes poignant, sometimes biting and political; but always economical, and always accessible.
Rob took thirteen of Brian’s poems and created melodies and arrangements, which are then played by a full band, with Ian Button on drums and Fay Hallam on keyboard. Sometimes the words of the poems are sung by Amelia or Rob. Sometimes they are spoken by Brian. Sometimes both these things happen at once. This is a pop record where the poetry and the music are equal partners: sounds made by humans in perfect artistic alignment.
Brian Bilston and The Catenary Wires will be performing at selected UK venues in November 2025.

Demon presents the second volume of the Tim Burgess Listening Party compilation. Following on from the success of
2024’s listening party, Tim is back with a further 24 eclectic cuts. This 2LP collection is pressed on blue translucent
vinyl, bringing together 24 further highlights from the 1,278 Listening Parties that took place.
The parties themselves were an eclectic mix of genres and eras, and the compilation reflects that with track from Paul
McCartney, The Magic Numbers, Ibibio Sound Machine, Róisín Murphy, Iron Maiden, Laurie Anderson and Norah
Jones.
“I’d done Charlatans listening parties and some solo album listening parties, and as the Twitter followers grew, I’d
repeat it and do it again and again. It was maybe about a week before being told that we were going to go into a
lockdown before we actually did something. I saw all the TV stuff, all the kind of crazy things that were happening and
thought if there’s going to be a lockdown, there’s going to be something that I can do.”
As well Tim's Twitter Listening Party, Tim's Listening Party is also a six-part radio and podcast series airing on Sunday
nights on Absolute Radio.

Portland's contemporary music makers and the city's historic Black music community come together on this new remix project which draws from the Albina Music Trust's archive. Across the long player, the artist reinvents the sounds of Portland's Black musicians with a modern beat-based sensibility, all of which subtly pay homage to the 1968 "Soul Assembly" program by the Black Student Union which educated audiences about Black Portland's cultural identity. Among many standouts are reimagined works by Jonny Cool, Jumbo of The Lifesavas and Tony Ozier who do a fine job of bridging generations and highlighting Portland's rich heritage.

SYML is the solo venture of artist Brian Fennell. Welsh for “simple”—he makes music that taps into the instincts that drive us to places of sanctuary, whether that be a place or a person. Born and raised in Seattle, Fennell studied piano and became a self-taught producer, programmer, and guitarist. Says Fennell about his album Nobody Lives Here, "We change, the world changes, and there is so much unknown. About a year ago I started writing songs that represent the change that is happening in front of my face, a group that have emerged to become the third SYML album. Many of these songs are about getting older, and the intimate, and sometimes frightening, passing of time. Some are about how getting older revolves around looking forward to things happening, and when they don’t happen, or they feel different than anticipated, we can be left with surprise and sadness. I’m actually reminded of this watching my 2 year old! We learn to live with disappointment. I recorded some of these songs with kids and dogs making noise in the background, and others in silent studios with musicians I’ve listened to and admired for many years. These songs are meant to be pieces of clothing to wear as you need (or I need). Some are bright and bold and others are gentle, but they were all made with a sense of comfort in mind, even when things feel bleak. My wife jokes that when our friends hear some of these songs, they might think we are not “ok”. Thankfully, putting myself inside a sad song is still a good place to feel happy. There's this generally unspoken feeling that musicians don’t listen to their own music. That isn’t true for me. I love living with my songs because their meaning changes as I change. There is as much fear and beauty in the big questions as there is wonder and possibility in the simple, everyday shit we live through.”