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‘The Oakland band’s wide-ranging debut is a whirlwind of biting critique, nervy post-punk guitars, and absurdist humor. Rarely does a first record speak with such a trenchant voice.’ 7.5 PITCHFORK
‘Post-punk lovers have a new act to follow" - PASTE
Fake Fruit’s visceral indie rock operates so firmly in the present that it’s transportive and unmooring. The Oakland trio’s songs careen with volatile energy and lead singer Ham D’Amato’s lyrics are enveloped with acerbic humor and resonant perceptiveness. Though their new LP Mucho Mistrust is a sly reference to a beloved Blondie lyric, the title encapsulates both the anxieties of daily life, a bloodless music industry, and global capitalism as well as the clear-eyed skepticism needed to rebel against it. Across 12 propulsively unpredictable tracks, the album is both their most collaborative and most immediate yet.
Following the 2021 release of Fake Fruit’s self-titled debut LP, the band’s personal lives hit a turbulent and transformational period. “There were big life changes and I was so close to boiling over,” says D’Amato. “I left a bad relationship, entered a more stable and loving one, got diagnosed with alopecia, and I'm turning 30 soon too.” This personal upheaval was channeled into the explosive lead single “Mucho Mistrust.” The track is simultaneously disorienting and direct, with clanging guitars from Alex Post, off-kilter drums from Miles MacDiarmid, and D’Amato snarling, “How you gonna blame me / when you could’ve done something about it / it’s not right / How you gonna marinate me / in shitty things overnight.” She explains, “This song was a snapshot of how I got through a difficult year.”
Recorded live at the Bay Area’s Atomic Garden studio with producer Jack Shirley (Deafheaven, Home Is Where), the band’s palpable ferocity shines throughout the record. Single “Más o Menos” is searing punk, with buzzsaw guitars and surging bass. It’s a clenched-fist song, one where D’Amato sings, “I decided to assert myself / After I lost all my sense of self.” Later in the track, D’Amato, who is Chicana, sings in Spanish, “¡No me hables! / ¡No escuchare!” While some of these songs deal in heartbreak, they are charged with way bigger themes. “There's also wanting to break up with capitalism and feeling upset about things politically,” says D’Amato.
For the band, these themes are personal. “I'm managing us while I'm in between changing diapers in my day job as a nanny,” says D’Amato. “Everyone in the band still believes in it and is motivated to keep wading through the bullshit.” On this album, they had no choice but to bet on themselves and each other. No track broadcasts their evolution better than the single “Cause of Death,” which morphs from a gorgeous sax-laden banger to something cathartic and anthemic.
As adventurous and righteous as Mucho Mistrust gets, there’s still an inviting core that never takes itself too seriously. From the ripping “Cause of Death,” which self-deprecatingly takes aim at anxiety and indecision, to the searing title track, Fake Fruit imbue their songs with humor and heart. “Our band is fun,” says D’Amato. “My number one coping mechanism for all of life is to joke about it. Even when the album talks about serious things, I am proud of how funny it can be.”

The new album is ready and it’s the best! Cornell says “This is more than an album to me…. It is an up close and personal expression of the many things that move me in life and how I feel about life, love and all the things I value most. The love that went into making this album is without question a collaboration of great musicians and producers who put their Souls into it. No matter what your mood is, there is a song on this album that will relate to all of the different emotions we experience Every Day!”
The first single from this album was “The Change”, released earlier in the year ahead of the massive new song “Everyday”. The album is coming 26th July on CD and will be followed up with a vinyl release (of selected tracks) 23rd August.
Cornell is from Berkeley, California and raised in San Francisco where his debut album “Vindicated Soul” was released in 2017. Since then he has taken the soul scene by storm through further prolific albums “One Love”, “Absolutely” and “Next Life”. Earlier in his career he recorded with The Isley Brothers and performed on stage with James Brown. Cornell performs songs from the album for the first time at The Sussex Soul Weekender Friday 2nd August.

The year 2020 sure wasn't the most ideal time to form a band, especially for a group of musicians who never played together before. But for New York rock quintet GIFT, this strangest of periods was the auspicious backdrop for a bold new sound - a dizzying blend of early shoegaze, classic `90s alternative rock and even modern pop. Indeed, that GIFT emerged somewhat fully formed on their 2022 debut album Momentary Presence was a testament to the creative possibilities laying deep within. Now, Illuminator, their Aug. 23 debut album for revered New York independent label Captured Tracks, is the long-awaited payoff of GIFT's ever-growing musical and human chemistry. And while nods are apparent to label forerunners such as Beach Fossils, DIIV and Wild Nothing, GIFT are shepherding those elements into wondrous new vessels for the present moment - sleek, often danceable and frequently mesmerizing. GIFT - vocalist/guitarist TJ Freda, multi-instrumentalists Jessica Gurewitz and Justin Hrabovsky, drummer Gabe Camarano and bassist Kallan Campbell - are firmly enmeshed in the New York scene as talent buyers, photographers, DJs, audio engineers, art directors and, in the case of Campbell, an owner of the beloved Brooklyn DIY venue Alphaville. GIFT introduced Illuminator with "Wish Me Away," their first new song in the 18 months since the debut. With its earworm guitar lines, propulsive rhythms, riveting vocals and mind-expanding aural flourishes, "Wish Me Away" is the perfect sonic springboard from Momentary Presence to where GIFT are going next. It's also a potent reminder that you can still preserve that twinkle in your eye even when you feel like everything's slipping away. On songs such as "Light Runner", "Going In Circles" and "Destination Illumination," Freda demonstrates a newfound confidence and versatility, embracing pop music as a vehicle. The relentless, often painful dance of love has never sounded as exhilarating as on "Going in Circles," while the strident tone poem "Water in My Lungs" conjures the unreal feeling of watching a romantic partner both figuratively and literally fade from view. "This album has a lot of themes of going fast, time passing and things changing," Freda says. Throughout, Freda and company thankfully do much of the hard work for us: falling in love, heartbreak. Watching events and moments go by like cars on the highway. People you once knew coming in and out. Grieving the loss of different phases. Watching everything happen simultaneously. For these and many other reasons, Illuminator, friends, will be the soundtrack to the throughline of your life.

Bubblegum XX features features members of Queens of the Stone Age, PJ Harvey, Greg Dulli, Izzy and Duff from Guns & Roses/Velvet Revolver, among other assorted rock luminaries. When Bubblegum was released, Mark chose to let it speak for itself and didn"t have much to say aside from within the small handful of interviews he did at the time. In 2017, he released a book of lyrics and writings called I Am The Wolf and wrote about the album then. Shared here are some of his words about the record. Song favorites include "When Your Number Isn"t Up," and "Strange Religion," a love song I wrote in a Tokyo hotel room. While many of the songs came from a place of dejection and ennui at the end of a tempestuous relationship, "Bombed" in particular came about when, after I had written and recorded it in just a few minutes, I put a microphone in front of Wendy Rae Fowler, my soon-to-be-ex-wife, and had her sing along while simultaneously hearing it for the first time. I loved the result as it reminded me of Royal Trux, a band I liked. When I insisted on using the first and only take of the song, it made her slightly unhappy, but to be fair, that was just one of many things I did that had that effect.

"Magdalena Bay, the Los Angeles-based duo of Mica Tenenbaum and Matthew Lewin, create magical pop music that floats in the ether of our collective social cosmos. While they call California home, their essence lies in the clouds, emitting unique yet familiar frequencies of synthesized nostalgia, kitschy catchiness, and warped neo-hooks. Suited for the times, Magdalena Bay blends the known and felt with innovative sonic landscapes.

Tenenbaum and Lewin met as teenagers in a Miami high school music program. Tenenbaum, who moved from Buenos Aires to Florida at age one, and Lewin, a guitar shredder influenced by his dad’s prog and concept rock records, quickly recognized their kindred spirits. They formed a prog band called Tabula Rasa and began a romance. Both were skilled musicians; Tenenbaum a pianist and singer, and Lewin self-taught in production and music theory. Despite attending different colleges, they maintained their band, traveling hours to rehearse before realizing two things: their relationship was undeniable, and prog rock wasn’t resonating with young audiences.

Shifting their focus to pop, they explored its craft, leading to the creation of Magdalena Bay. They learned the complexities of pop writing and production, striving to create something interesting within the genre. Describing their music broadly as ""pop,"" they released several EPs and singles before debuting their album, ""Mercurial World,"" in 2021. Praised for its melodic hooks and meticulous production, it was often labeled as ""synth-pop.""

Their success is reflected in streaming numbers, social media followers, and festival appearances. Magdalena Bay's stylized online aesthetic complements their music, creating a cohesive artistic vision. Tenenbaum says, “We love extending the world of our music past sound into videos or graphics.” Lewin adds, “We’re trying to create an atmosphere or an emotional quality with it.” This integrated approach, termed ""world-building,"" is central to their artistry."

Darren Hayman New Starts are a spikey, fresh sounding band recalling the poppier ends of new wave and angular guitar rock. Their influences include The Cars, Breeders, Bay City Rollers, The Velvet Underground and ZZ Top. Lead singer Darren Hayman has his own long career running from the late 90s with John Peel faves Hefner to his more recent thematic and historical albums dealing with the English Civil War, William Morris and forgotten rural idylls. “I wanted a band again,” says Hayman, “and not a band that just backed me up and played my old songs. When we form our first bands in our teens we just find some friends and work through the musical differences. I usually look for players who play in a way I’m used to. This time I looked for variance and was led by people’s personality.” Guitarist Joely Smith of South London’s noise-pop adults and recently DIY-punks Fresh was recommended by a mutual friend who said, ‘She makes everything better’. Hayman and Smith shared a coffee and agreed on the correct number of guitar pedals and decided to proceed without an audition. “There is a tendency for me to make my chords too pretty. Joely cuts against that and plays in the opposite direction.” Hayman is a fan of rules and constraints and employed a new, oblique strategy on this record. “Even though I wrote all the songs, I wanted the songs to belong to everyone during arrangement. I decided that I would say ‘yes’ to every suggestion from the band, regardless of my instinct.” This made the songs warp and bend into new shapes and ensured that the record was the product of four individuals. Bassist Giles Barrett and drummer Will Connor come from funky afro beat influenced band Tigercats. “Pretty much the only rhythm I use, left to my own devices, is the ‘road runner’ rhythm. Will takes to care to find where the drum beat can be and we always end up somewhere I didn’t expect.” More Break Up Songs is a collection of 12 Break Up songs because Darren broke up with someone. Again. “I suck’, he says, “But it’s never anyone’s fault. It makes me very sad but I do have to work through these things in song and there’s always something to learn. I try to make songs about breakups that could be understood by both parties. I’m not interested in nasty songs.” Opening song ‘Little Stone in my Heart’ blisters along with Joely’s wildest guitars. The protagonist will do anything to make things right, but nothing ever is. ‘Under the Striplights’ has driving, choppy, incessant riffs, and is about the need to be anywhere but somewhere other than here. We could be under the moon or under the strip lights as long as we have each other. Another barely kept rule that Darren instigated on this album was that each song would be a tonal equivalent to one from The Velvet Underground’s third album. To that end ‘Don’t Need Persuading’ is this record’s ‘Pale Blue Eyes’ with the narrator being unable to break free of a vortex, knowing they will stay the night against all better judgment. ‘I’ve had a long standing distrust of the guitar,’ says Darren, ‘despite it being my primary instrument for twenty years. I thought it was time I made a record with two guitars and drums and bass. I wanted it to be bright, immediate and young sounding, despite the fact I’m old. We recorded it in four days and I think this might be the record a lot of my audience has wanted me to make for a long time.’ “bold and unique" The Sunday Times. // “Hayman has hit a creative purple patch… a treat” Mojo // “uniquely intimate and very satisfying”

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Imagine a Latin remake of Back to the Future. The mad scientist is Arsenio Rodriguez (the godfather of salsa) and the young student who travels through time with him is Eblis Alvarez (Meridian Brothers). This album can only be described as the perfect soundtrack for that movie that never was.

After the massive buzz generated by his first solo album, Mentallogenic, Alex Figueira got back in the studio to work in a more collective fashion this time, carefully assembling the second album of his largest project to date, Conjunto Papa Upa; a team of 6 musicians, spanning 3 generations of some of the best talent in the Latin and avant-garde scenes.

In an era where tropical music is dominated by purely electronic and rhythmically uniform sounds, the ten songs encompassed in “Fruta Madura” (“Ripe Fruit”) wander through the most diverse tempos, rhythms, and motifs effortlessly. A real breath of fresh air that gracefully incorporates soul, funk, jazz, psychedelia, and electronics into a solid tropical, irresistibly polyrhythmic foundation, without ever succumbing to the many genre clichés.

The distinctive production and catchy songwriting of Figueira shine in a very distinctive light on this second full-length. Living up to his reputation (Miles Cleret, founder of Soundway Records, called him “one of the scene's truly authentic and eccentric producers”), he takes the opportunity to show he’s not afraid to keep walking his own path.

Taking the band for a wild ride through the traditions of Africa, America, and the Caribbean; contrasting them with a ridiculously wide plethora of vintage, contemporary, and futuristic sounds, and pivoting on the exuberant musicality displayed by his musicians; the result leaves no doubt: this album is destined to be considered a future classic of the exciting tropical psychedelic music of the 21st century.

Addressing the most diverse themes in this new collection of songs, things take on a much more mature tone, as the title clearly suggests.

The opening track “El segundo es más sabroso” (“The second one is tastier”) sets the tone in the most assertive way imaginable, with the band boldly declaring, through multiple metaphorical references (laid upon a crazy mix of Dominican merengue, Detroit techno, classic and free jazz, dub, and electro), that the bar will be set higher with this second album.

The remaining compositions touch upon the most diverse subjects, with a fair dose of humor, sarcasm, and postmodern “magic realism”. “El Algoritmo” (The Algorithm) is a parranda-cumbia hybrid (for lack of a specific term) about the omnipresence of technology in our lives. The sophisticated Latin soul of the titling track “Fruta Madura” makes a case for the beauty of the maturity process. Some key philosophical teachings of Marcus Aurelius (the role of causality, the impositions of “the logos” and the importance of self-control) get a twisted cumbia treatment on “Reos del Deseo” (Prisoners of Desire). “No le pongas Coca-Cola” (“Don’t put Coca Cola in it”) shows us the most satirical side of the band, accusing those who mix Coca Cola with Rum of committing "sacrilege", on a powerful base of Dem Bow (the grandfather of Reggaeton), intertwined with touches of soul, salsa, and Cuban comparsa.

"Háblame Claro" (“Talk to me clearly”) is a story of heartbreak that evokes in its first part the spirit of the erotic salsa of the 80s (a subgenre deeply despised by purists), and after an unexpected samba interlude, leads to the hardest salsa of the 70s (a subgenre adored by purists), to end up in the surprising form of pure Afro-Cuban ceremonial music.

“Tu mamá tenía razón” ("Your Mom Was Right") is an attempt to exalt the spirit of the Latin American soap opera in the key of “acid bachata”, to recount a real-life case, witnessed by the band on countless occasions: the partying woman who arrives at the show accompanied by her bitter husband, who obviously does not like to dance. A very cheeky song to talk about the very serious and pertinent topic of female empowerment.

“La misma vaina” (“The same thing”) with its indescribable blend of bantú, candomblé, and Mozambique rhythms with abstract synthesizers, is an ode to adventure in favor of the aversion to taking risks and seeking predictability.

“Amigas picadas” (“Salty friends”) is another humorous song recounting another real-life case witnessed by the band on countless occasions: a love encounter sabotaged by the girlfriend's friends, who all happen to fancy the same guy. A jazzy take on the ancient Dominican rhythm of pambiche (grandfather of merengue), with generous psychedelic touches, resembling the classy late 60s releases of Guadeloupe's legendary producer / label owner Henri Debs.

“Vinimos a hablar” (“We came to talk”) takes sarcasm to the highest level, to ridicule the absurdity (also experienced by the band firsthand) seen in live music venues where people pay a ticket to go and have conversations that could be carried out much better on any bar, where no band is playing. The music alternates between a delicate melody with loose, sparse percussion and a full-on, pumping Angolan semba, with a techno kick drum included; bringing things to an apotheotic grooving finale, where the peculiar swing of Venezuelan calypso from the Callao region is thrown on top of all the precedent elements; closing the album in the most uplifting, “end of the carnival parade” feel.

The artwork is a delicate and impactful oil painting by Colombian artist Kevin Simón Mancera, who has collaborated many times with the label before (“Maracas, tambourines and other hellish things” tape and the Lola’s Dice LP).

What the experts are saying:

“Alex (Figueira) dove into this work with a brutal cohesion between lyrics and synths. Timbre poetry, sound poetry (you name it). And that, superimposed on his always impeccable percussive base, confirms the title of “avant-garde visionary of our beautiful Latin music”".
EBLIS ALVAREZ (MERIDIAN BROTHERS)
“Papa Upa's infectious quirkiness is a balm against boredom. A mature album, but without an expiration date”.
GLADYS PALMERA

“Here there is a lot of strength, drum, cadence and psychedelia, lost dance rhythms, united in an intercontinental Latin/African/and Caribbean journey, a unique winning combination that we could consider the new “Ritmo Figueira”.
DISCODELIC

Conjunto Papa Upa are: 



Alex Figueira - Timbales, percussion, vocals. 

Gerardo Rosales - Congas, percussion, vocals. 

Ramón Mendeville - Bongos, percussion, vocals. 

Randy Winterdal - Bass.

Andrew Moreno - Guitar.

Nico Chientarolli - Organ, piano, synths.



All songs written by Alex Figueira. 

Arranged and performed by Conjunto Papa Upa. 

Recorded, produced, mixed and mastered by Alex Figueira at Heat Too Hot, Amsterdam.


FFO: Melvins, Big Business, Torche, Karp, Lightning Bolt, Red Fang. Super limited vinyl, first press is transparent-y orange. Based in Sheffield, POHL is a stunning and brutal noise rock duo, featuring former Hey Colossus axeman Will Pearce on guitar/vocals, and drummer Dr Linda Westman of Toronto-based death metal two-piece, Old Hope. This July the band releases their debut album Mysteries; a sonic tome which draws as much from MF Doom as it does doom metal. It’s a swirling, cosmic onslaught of heavy motorik riffs and offhand musings about everything and nothing in equal measure. New single ‘The Whale’ summons the glorious thunder pop of Torche, the pithy lyricism of Karp and the DIY derring-do ethos of Guided by Voices. As guitarist/vocalist Will Pearce explains: “I suppose you could say that Mysteries is an album about grief. How we live with grief, and how we overcome it. When you’re trapped in the belly of the beast, and all seems lost - how do you come back from that? All I can say is that sometimes you eat the whale, and sometimes the whale eats you." Pearce, who played with Hey Colossus on their 2019 album Four Bibles and 2020’s Dances/Curses is thrilled to be teaming up once more with former bandmates Joe Thompson and Chris Summerlin and their Wrong Speed Records imprint. Recorded at the band’s own Cool World studio and mixed by serial collaborator and producer Wayne Adams, Mysteries is many things, often all at the same time. Veering from biblical allusions to fragmented Burroughsian cut-ups, it is at once mystical, profane, sacred, and scatological. Profoundly stupid, perhaps? Or just stupidly profound… either way, Mysteries demands your attention

Coloured vinyl repress of Penguin Cafe album Rain Before Seven… A sense of optimism infuses Penguin Cafe’s fifth studio album, not the braggadocious, overconfident kind, but more a blithe, self-effacing optimism in keeping with the national character. Even when all signs point to the contrary, it operates within the certainty that things are going to be alright. Probably.

The title comes from an old weather proverb with the rhyming prognostication — fine before eleven — hinting at a happy ending, irrespective of the science: “I found it in a book and I'd never heard it before,” says Arthur Jeffes, leader of Penguin Cafe. “It has faintly optimistic overtones and I quite like it. It's fallen out of usage recently but it does describe English weather patterns coming in off the Atlantic.”

From the widescreen reverie of opener ‘Welcome to London’ with its cheeky nod to Morricone to ‘Goldfinch Yodel’, the self-described “Maypole banger” at the denouement, there’s a welcome sense of sanguinity, always with an undercurrent of exotic rhythmic exuberance. Playfulness pervades, with a titular nod to A Matter of Life... from 2011, the last album title that concluded with an ellipsis. That Penguin Cafe debut is the bridge between the legendary Penguin Cafe Orchestra, led by Arthur’s father Simon Jeffes, and the much- loved descendent, led by Arthur.

“Stylistically it's really satisfying to get back to playful rhythms and instruments,” says the younger Jeffes, who kept the group’s debut from 12 years ago in mind when writing the new album. “Certainly when starting out, I became aware that we’d stopped using quite a few of the textures that had been there at the beginning—and it was certainly there in my dad's earlier stuff. So there's a lot of balafon and textures from completely different parts of the world, musically and geographically: ukuleles, cuatros and melodicas that you can hear.”

Encouraged by co-producer Robert Raths, the rhythmic elements of Rain Before Seven... have never been more to the fore and, at times, even hint at the electronic. ‘Find Your Feet’, for instance, is underpinned with more than just a pulse. Mixed by Tom Chichester-Clark, it brings to the musical melange what Arthur describes as a “near electronic feel”. He adds, excitedly: “There are elements of fun here which we haven't really done with the last three records.” Another ebullient highlight is ‘In Re Budd’, dedicated to the late ambient godfather Harold Budd, who Arthur discovered had died on the day he’d been writing the celebratory ear worm with a deceptively tricky syncopation. Played on an upright piano with some “prepared” felt to accentuate the bounce, Jeffes feels a track with an Afro Cuban Cafe vibe would appeal to Budd’s contrariness.

On his new album, Samurai, Lupe retreats inward to give fans one of his most personal albums in his deep catalog. “I sometimes get tagged by my fans as not doing personal records,” Lupe says, “but I always tell people there's me in there if you listen closely enough. This album is one of my more personal records to date. It's not a full biography, but my personal experiences are tied up in all of my music. A lot of the records are me. Some are from the POV of a character. and some are me. The album weaves things from my life as an artist, touching on things other artists go through.” The narrative follows a battle rapper through various moments in his career, starting with how they honed their battle rap skills, following their career through different moments. Musically, the new album finds Lupe delighting in the simple pleasures of assembling assonant syllables into playful and poignant narratives. The 8-track album is smooth, yet cerebral, brimming with ideas, but always radiating Lupe’s pure love for the art of emceeing and committing himself as a servant of the rap game. The album was produced in full by longtime collaborator and friend, Soundtrakk (“Superstar,” “Kick, Push,” “HipHop Saved My Life”), their second time linking up on a full album after 2022’s DRILL MUSIC IN ZION, and is also the first time Lupe, Trakk, and longtime manager Charles “Chill” Patton were in the studio together since Patton’s release from prison in 2023. “It felt great to be back in the studio again as a family,” Lupe says. It’s the first time they’d worked together in the studio since Lupe’s seminal album, The Cool in 2005. “The word ‘samurai’ means to serve,” Lupe says on the album’s title. “My relationship to that word has always meant that you need to be at the service of other people, either in the overall community, or in this instance, the rap community at large that I’ve been a part of for years. You have some duty, some purpose to serve. The title alone is very important to me. Before rap even, martial arts was my whole life, and it still plays a huge role in my life. The album is me, but also inspired by a quote I heard from one of my favorite artists. The overall themes of the album speak to the constant fight and the battle one goes through being in the entertainment industry. Some of the things we need to defend.”

Pleasure Planet’s kaleidoscopic debut album has been a long time coming, but good things come to those who wait. Developed over years of late-night studio improvisations, ‘Pleasure Planet’ is an affectionate and colorful patchwork of the New York City-based trio’s knotted influences that’s suspended between the rave and the chill-out room, weaving glistening pads and chunky basslines into vocal earworms and warm, saturated rhythmic cycles. Bandmates Andrew Potter, Kim Ann Foxman and Brian Hersey enter into a lysergic dialog with their discrete personal musical histories, drawing inspiration from vintage EBM, ambient music and heady early ’90s West Coast rave sounds and launching these classic elements into a transcendent new sonic universe.

Celebrated DJ and producer Foxman was a lead singer of Hercules and Love Affair when she first ran into DC rave veteran Potter, and the two rapidly realized their musical interests overlapped. So when Potter was recording with his studiomate Hersey, a NYC underground club scene mainstay, and they needed to bring in a vocalist, the choice was simple. Working together was a refreshing, freeing experience for the three seasoned artists, and the more they experimented, the closer they became; Foxman ended up moving into the studio, and Pleasure Planet was manifested into existence. “We’re like family,” says Potter. “We’re always on the same page – we couldn’t make this music solo.”

For Foxman, the open-ended jam sessions provided her with a chance to try something new, a few steps from the dancefloor-forward DJ tracks she’s best known for producing. And as the trio pooled their adolescent rave memories, reflecting on them with more mature ears, they began to develop the signature sound that was first heard on the Throne Of Blood-released ‘Animals’ 12″. Pleasure Planet aren’t trying to re-capture the past, but suggest a poetic contemplation that layers their recollections and musical obsessions into a hypnotic sci-fi dream. Harnessing a self-described “Aladdin’s cave” of analog and digital gear that help galvanize the timeline, they bridge the gap between avant-pop and icy bleep techno, curving suggestive words through lattices of tightly-engineered electronics.

On ‘Endless’, Foxman’s voice is echoed into a glistening haze that hovers around ethereal pads and tense, electroid pulses. Slow-moving and evocative, it’s a track that capture the open endedness of post-rave euphoria, touching the afterparty but moving far beyond the material world. She’s more recognizable on ‘Alien’, the album’s most upfront track, singing in a glassy, upper-register coo over urgent bass bumps, taut guitars and florid electronic atmospheres. “Are you an alien, or are you an angel?” she asks, fractalizing the borders between genres. And the band’s sense of cosmic togetherness bubbles to the surface on ‘Saved by the Bells’, a meditative after-hours experiment that diminishes the pulsing beats for a moment to bring out a spectrum of interconnected, serpentine melodies.

Modular bleeps and echoing percussion anchor the swooning ‘Planet Love’, one of Pleasure Planet’s most recent compositions and one of the album’s most outwardly psychedelic cuts, while the urgent and anthemic ‘Go With Madness’ steps back towards the main stage, evaporating Foxman’s memorable calls into a thumping procession of analog drums and squelchy, acidic bass tweaks. But they save the best for last, tugging at the heartstrings with ‘Remember (In Dreams)’, a giddy spiral of blipping synth arpeggios and haunting, reverberated chorals. It’s the perfect way to conclude an album that cryptically gestures towards the vulnerability of friendship, celebrating the shared experiences that result in some of the most meaningful memories of all.

LIMITED INDIES LOSER EDITION PRESSED ON BLUE TRANSPARENT VINYL! Stella makes her Sub Pop debut with the mesmerizing Up and Away, an old-school pop paean to the pangs and raptures of love. From the Greek folk-inflected get-go, we're swept up in Stella's world - and it's quite the captivating place to be. The singer-songwriter joined forces with artist and producer Tom Calvert (aka Redinho), and it was a match made in Athens; the results are heavenly. Tom caught one of Stella's gigs on a visit to the city. He reached out, they started hanging out, and the pair soon clicked creatively. Both mention chemistry when asked about their collaboration and it's clear, from what we hear, they had it in spades. The meld is seamless. Stella's songs have always riffed on American and Greek mid-century pop but Up and Away doubles down on the vintage aesthetic. Tom says he styled the record "as if it was a rare gem from the '60s found in a box of records in Athens," and Stella notes she was ready for a more "deeply Greek touch - it felt comfortable and right, smoothly fusing with the pop." The bouzouki appears on a full five tracks played by Christos Skondras who, she says, "was brilliant at improvising," while Sofia Labropoulou on the kanun "brought an insane amount of dreaminess to the last two songs. Having these amazing musicians play for Up and Away - I couldn't be more grateful." While not exclusively a confessional artist, Stella is always intimate - when she sings, it's personal. She writes "about things I feel passion for. Stories about me, about others, about all that's there in love and war." Stella was "in a very emotional state at the time, which came through in the lyrics and vocals." And it's true, her honeyed voice - layered in those unmistakable harmonies of hers - thrillingly runs the gamut from tender to terse, by turns bracing and smitten, aching and forlorn. But it's the lyrics that feel key. Across her output, Stella has proven herself a strong storyteller, and Up and Away is no exception (the guise of the medieval bard she assumes on the cover is telling). Past releases have been studded with gem-like vignettes - a diverse array of stories set tightly together to form non-linear narratives unified by emotion. Her latest feels singular in that it seems to trace a longer-form tale across songs, with each track escalating the record's erotic arc. By the end of the album, Up and Away's core concerns are clear: the conflicting and conflicted emotions inherent in love, that live on in ways we can't always understand or control. Love is like this record: when it's over, you still feel it for time to come.

The color green can represent many things. It can symbolize money, of course, but also weed. And envy. It implies newness, the rebirth of spring, but it can also evoke illness and infection. It’s an apt name for a band that is defined by its adaptability, by its knack for doing many different things all at once. On the Color Green’s second full-length—their first as a quartet—they ground their cosmic jams in earthy melodies, drawing from ‘60s SoCal folk-r0ck, ‘70s classic rock, ‘80s underground rock, ‘90s psychedelic dance-rock, and many other sources.

In the two years the band has been touring, it has already shared stages with a range of groups that reflect both the sophistication and the wild malleability of their sound, including Fuzz, Kikagaku Moyo, Circles Around the Sun, and Young Guv. “When we play live, I don’t really know what’s going to happen,” says guitarist Noah Kohll. “You really have no idea what you’re going to get with this band, which keeps things fresh for us and maybe makes the live experience special.”

Adds drummer Corey Rose, “One thing about this band that I really appreciate is that we can camouflage into any environment or any show. We can play with Hiss Golden Messenger and lean into that funky country vibe, or we can play with the Brian Jonestown Massacre and get evil. We all love a variety of music, so let’s not put ourselves in a box.”

That wild, mercurial quality is reflected on Fool’s Parade, a meditation on loss, grief, confusion, frustration, and the clarity to which they all lead. Their songs are vehicles for self-explorations, not just a means of putting their feelings into lyrics and notes but molding them, night after night, into different shapes to get different insights.

Lenticular Sleeve / White Vinyl. When Jack Tatum began work on Life of Pause, his third full-length to date, he had lofty ambitions: Don't just write another album; create another world. One with enough detail and texture and dimension that a listener could step inside, explore, and inhabit it as they see fit. "I desperately wanted for this to be the kind of record that would displace me," he says. "I'm terrified by the idea of being any one thing, or being of any one genre. And whether or not I accomplish that, I know that my only hope of getting there is to constantly reinvent. That reinvention doesn't need to be drastic, but every new record has to have its own identity, and it has to have a separate set of goals from what came before." What came before: a rightfully acclaimed, much beloved display of singular pop craftsmanship. Tatum's dreamy, unexpected 2010 debut, Gemini, was written while he was still a student at Virginia Tech University. Its equally disarming follow-up, 2012's Nocturne, marked the first time he'd been able to bring his bedroom recordings into a studio, to be performed and fully realized with the help of other musicians. There has been a set of wonderfully expansive EPs in between_each hinting at new directions and punctuating previous ideas_but with Life of Pause, Tatum delivers what he describes as his most "honest" and "mature" work yet, an exquisitely arranged and beautifully recorded collection of songs that marry the immediate with the indefinable. "I allowed myself to go down every route I could imagine even if it ended up not working for me," he says. "I owe it to myself to take as many risks as possible. Songs are songs and you have to allow yourself to be open to everything." After a prolonged period of writing and experimentation, recording took place over several weeks in both Los Angeles and Stockholm, with producer Thom Monahan (Devendra Banhart, Beachwood Sparks) helping Tatum in his search for a more natural and organically textured sound. In Sweden, in a studio once owned by ABBA, they enlisted Peter, Bjorn and John drummer John Ericsson and fellow Swedish Radio Symphony Orchestra veteran Pelle Jacobsson, to contribute drums and marimba. In California, at Monahan's home, Tatum collaborated with Medicine guitarist Brad Laner and a crew of saxophonists. From the hypnotic polyrhythms of "Reichpop" to the sugary howl of "Japanese Alice" to the hallucinogenic R&B of "A Woman's Wisdom," the result is a complete, fully immersive listening environment. "I just kept things really simple, writing as ideas came to me," he says. "There's definitely a different kind of `self' in the picture this time around. There's no real love lost, it's much more a record of coming to terms and defining what it is that you have_your place, your relationships. I view every record as an opportunity to write better songs. At the end of the day it still sounds like me, just new."

Ltd. Purple & Black Splatter Vinyl. It's been four years since Zach Saginaw, aka Shigeto, returned home to Michigan from a stint in Brooklyn, NY, and since then, the multi-faceted musician has become a part of the fabric of Detroit's music scene. While always having a personal approach to his projects, Saginaw's influences for his third album, The New Monday are more about the community of Detroit than anything else. Named after a weekly DJ event called Monday is the New Monday that Saginaw does at the unassuming Motor City Wine with a group of friends, The New Monday is the result of Saginaw diving into the city's deep record culture, where there legacy of artist's of the past help Saginaw embrace his own contributions. "It's focused on a couple things and they all kind of come together to represent dierent things," explains Saginaw. "My time back in Detroit, back living in Michigan and spending time with a lot of kind of original people who have always been here, learning from them, hearing stories from them, being influenced by them, and inspired by them." While, in the past, projects like Lineage or No Better Time Than Now were rooted in strong personal messages, family and relationships respectively, The New Monday represents a communal eort where solidarity is the key. Going for a simplified approach of just trying to make good tracks, The New Monday is diverse in its styles leaning more into a dance music direction - new ground for a Shigeto project. A new air of confidence in Saginaw has expanded his horizons since his return to Detroit, but traces of his past work will continue to be present. "I don't want people to think I'm leaving anything," says Saginaw. "I'm still me. It's a result of me being immersed in the culture, and inevitably making music that is influenced by that culture whether it be house, techno, jazz, rap. It doesn't matter. It's all coming from what I love about Michigan." While The New Monday still features the jazz textures long associated with Shigeto projects, the varied elements that make up the album cohesively come together to show the distinct inspiration that Saginaw has drew from since his return home to Detroit. Like on "Barry White", which features Detroit hip-hop artist ZelooperZ (a member of Danny Brown's Bruiser Brigade crew who Saginaw also has a side project with called ZGTO), Saginaw captures everything he's been doing all on one track. As much as it's hip-hop influenced, it's a mutant that encompasses elements of dance music, jazz, and ambient sounds. Throughout The New Monday, Saginaw poignantly references the musical influences that have either always been with him or newly discovered. It is Saginaw's interpretation of Detroit's rich culture of innovative artistry, but done so with respect for the history and to contribute, not disrupt. "I think over the past four years, I can confidently say that I found my place here," describes Saginaw. "I'm happy here and I feel that I have the respect from the people I need respect from, that I want respect from. It's all of the result of embracing it and embracing, not Detroit, but embracing community, embracing family,








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f A2D (FT. ZEELOOPERZ & SILAS GREEN) [AAPV]

Released in 1999 on Taylor Deupree’s 12k label, »optimal.lp« was the debut album by Dan Abrams under his Shuttle358 moniker. For its 25th anniversary, Keplar presents it on vinyl for the first time with three previously unreleased tracks—the digital version also includes a alternative version of »Tank«—as well as a new artwork recreated by Daniel Castrejón and a remaster by Andreas LUPO Lubich based on the original pre-masters that were been restored and cleaned up for the reissue project by Abrams. »optimal.lp« was inspired by the rich tradition of ambient music and the rhythmic complexity of 1990s electronica while also sharing many traits with the then-emerging clicks’n’cuts movement, making it a true sui generis piece of work—both informed by tradition and visionary, idiosyncratic and seminal for many artists after him.

Abrams developed an interest in ambient music when he was still a child, scouring through cassette tapes of environmental sounds, new age music, and world percussion. Discovering Brian Eno’s »Thursday Afternoon« as a young teenager marked a turning point for him. »It gave me the idea that ambient music could be an intentional creative act, that tone itself is a legitimate form of expression,« he says today. During the 1990s, he increasingly immersed himself in the electronica scene and the output of labels such as Instinct, where Deupree worked as an Art Director and released his first records as Human Mesh Dance. Abrams found a home on 12k after sending Deupree a demo tape that would later evolve into »optimal.lp,« released as the label’s fifth catalogue number.

Abrams was still in college when he started experimenting with a sound module, his laptop and a mixer as well as a MIDI card and a small controller. »Each note was composed in MIDI and played back when I was ready to record,« he explains his working process at the time. »The tracks could be replayed, but the sound interactions with glitches and noise would be a little different each time. I decided to base the concept of the album on these interactions.« Each piece started with a single sound or tone that, as Abrams puts it, already contained the entire composition: »I let these interactions guide me, and tried to complement them as I added sounds. It’s a conversation of sorts with the medium.«

While refining this technique that he would go on to use on every album until 2004’s »Chessa,« reissued by Keplar in 2021, he also used the first-ever Native Instrument product, the Generator soft synth, to write the record’s title track—possibly making it the first album on which it was being used. »optimal.lp« is marked by this curious interplay of cutting-edge technology, the limitations with which every college student with a small budget is faced, and boundless creativity. »I’ve talked with other artists about how we feel about our early work,« Abrams says today. »We all agreed that there were elements that remain a part of us in a timeless way, despite our techniques—or lack thereof—at the time. ›optimal.lp‹ has a lot of things that will always be with me, that are me. I think I left some clues in there for my future self.«

This sense of timelessness remains tangible after a quarter of a century after the album’s original CD release and is even being expanded upon by the vinyl reissue, which is complemented by three pieces that were made while Abrams was working on the album. The digital release even features an entirely new take on the original album’s final piece, »Tank.« While Abrams let one of the masters go through his customised reverb unit when preparing the reissue, he started recording the results of this accidental dialogue between past and present. It’s a fitting tribute to an album whose delicate circular rhythms, rich textures, and ethereal melodies are precisely so exhilarating because their interplay seems to suspend the passing of time altogether.

180 Proof Records & BBE Music continue to bring new life to the Strata catalogue, this time with the short-lived label's swan song: Larry Nozero’s 1975 passion project, Time. The final album to be released on Strata Inc., Time is a dream- like mix of mood, an album full of range, tempo, and feeling; from the impulsive and airy rendition of the jazz standard “All The Things You Are” to the brooding melancholia of “Tony,” Nozero’s Time is destined to become known among aficionados as a classic of 1970s jazz. Like time itself, each song is open to individual interpretation - something Nozero himself confessed to on the album’s original liner notes, saying “It got so deep that we decided to call the group and our album after that concept of TIME, because it seemed to mean something to just about everyone.” A native of Detroit, Nozero spent time in Charles Moore’s Detroit Contemporary 5 (part of Strata Inc.) before being drafted into the military. While enlisted, Nozero capitalised on his time by honing his craft in the Army Band. By the time he returned to Detroit, Nozero had little trouble landing high-profile gigs. No stranger to success, Nozero’s previous credits and collaborators include Henry Mancini, Sergio Mendes, and playing Soprano sax on Marvin Gaye’s iconic 1971 album, What’s Going On. Working with his cousin and collaborator Dennis Tini, Time is unlike many albums of the era in that it truly feels like a work fuelled by freewheeling expressionism. The pieces are funky, soulful, strange and soothing all at once. Tini’s stand-out contribution to the album is “Tune for L.N.”, a funk-fuelled piece of rhythm-centric jazz. A distinguishing feature of the album is the use of wordless vocals. The scat work on part two of “Chronicle Of The Murdered House” adds a distinct counterpoint to Nozero’s reed work, while the high pitch bebop of “Baubles, Bangles and Beads” closes out the album with a carefree and buoyant groove. Time has been remastered by the Grammy nominated studio The Carvery, along with the artwork, which has been restored and includes never seen before photos.

Let Go the debut album from Avril Lavigne, originally released in June of 2002. Let Go became an instant sensation with hits such as "Complicated," and "Sk8ter Boi" dominating the charts and airwaves.

Session Victim need little by way of introduction having been releasing on Delusions consistently for the last 10 years and becoming the undisputed poster boys for the label in the process. Despite their regular appearance however, it’s always a real treat to announce a new record from the German duo and we have to say, the Screen Off EP may well find them in their finest form to date! Coming hot off their latest downtempo LP entitled Low Key, Low Pressure for Night Time Stories, you can tell Hauke and Matthias were ready to take things back to the dance-floor and have delivered an EP which looks set to become a future classic and no doubt big in the box of discerning DJ’s the world over.

Screen Off is really it’s own thing, living somewhere on the long and winding road between the Bar Kays and the Bad Brains, suffice to say that what it lacks in easily definable attributes it makes up for in sheer energy and raw attitude. Hauke and Matthias re-invite Jamaican poet and vocalist Ras Stimulant, who contemplates our screen addictions and urges us to disconnect and be present in the moment. Matthias’ rolling bassline provides the backbone, whilst hints of crunchy Moog and chopped guitar samples all bring a sense of urgency to the track.

Light The Way acts as an antidote, bringing a sense of calm melancholia in contrast to the title track’s low-end, funked-up fervour. A soft focus and almost distant drum groove draws us in whilst arpeggiating synths add a sense of optimism, reinforcing the tracks title.

Closing out the release we have Session Victim’s studio partner, good friend and all-round top producer Iron Curtis in for a remix of Light The Way. Johannes takes an interesting approach for his Illuminati interpretation, enhancing the breakbeat feel and mixing up chopped samples with classic 808 drums. A muscular bassline adds extra weight to his remix but without losing the subtle musicality and positive vibe of the original.

Being the vinyl purists they are, Session Victim and Iron Curtis top up the physical 12“ EP with the exclusive Screen Off Acapella and an additional Iron Curtis Remix Reprise.

Originally released in 1987, Life Time is the full-length debut by Rollins Band. This reissue—released on ROLLINS’ 2.13.61 label—has been remastered for vinyl by TJ LIPPLE and includes updated artwork by JASON FARRELL. Henry Rollins on Life Time: “Life Time is the first studio record by the Rollins Band. We did our first practice on 04-07-87 and went out on a long tour of America and Europe. On the road we wrote songs and put them into the set. By late October we finished the shows in London, UK. We went up to Leeds where Chris had a place to live and booked studio time at the same place that he and I did the Hot Animal Machine recordings a year before. I had no producer for this record and feared that since everyone in the band had strong opinions on how it all should be done that if we tried to do it ourselves we would do more harm than good. I called Ian MacKaye and asked for help. He got on a plane and came right out. That's Ian. We got straight to work as we had little time or money. All twelve songs were cut and mixed in a few days. We would do a take and Ian would tell us that it was good and we were moving on. When someone would say that they wanted to do it over again, he listened patiently and then asked again which song we wanted to do next. We got it all done and dragged it back to America for about 3,200 dollars. My, how things have changed. The album cover was drawn on the back of a diner place mat by Stephen Myers as a gift for my then roommate, Laura. Only the offset reproduction of the piece remains as the original went with her when she gave up her room. She shot herself a few years ago. Special thanks to Ian for coming to the rescue on such short notice. Thanks to you for checking this out.” Download code for full album plus live tracks. Also comes with lyric insert.

Numero's second bundle of cover 45s is all things soulful. The Rotterdam-based Another Taste electrifies Maxx Traxx's 1984 Chicago boogie grail "Don't Touch It," which makes its debut on the 7" format here. Colemine Records' Say She She delivers a glamorous rendition of Jim Spencer's yacht-disco hit "Wrap Myself Up In Your Love." Columbia Recording artist Leon Bridges effortlessly transforms Pastor T.L. Barrett's "Like A Ship," updating the 50 year old gospel soul classic for the 21st century. All three are housed in a newly imagined Numero custom sleeve, reflecting the many shades of our ongoing Eccentric Soul 45 imprint.

A home, a house, has countless frequencies. Each room, each corner feels different. Swings differently. And as you grow older, you realize which corner is yours. But yeah, it takes time…

It certainly marks the end of an era when the house one called home as a kid no longer exists. This home, it was the starting point of so many journeys. Of one big, ongoing journey. And so it feels good, soothing, reassuring to at least return to a spot nearby – to that (proverbial) hill from where you can see it. Feel the vibe that made you.

Andi Haberl’s debut solo album as Sun is sort of dedicated to that house. It’s a journey leading to that hill overlooking everything that made him. It’s not about nostalgia, not about actually returning to a specific place. Instead, it’s about finding a personal frequency, an overlapping of sounds and samples, an open space that mirrors and extends whatever frequencies felt right at different points in time.

“To me, the results feel like Gold Panda/Four Tet meets Steve Reich meets Krautrock meets film scores. I just really wanted to create moods that touch me – and ideally others, too.”

Talking about his first solo album, Haberl recalls many stages: early compositions that ended up on Alien Ensemble’s albums, early DIY/home studio/multi-instrumentalist inspirations (Le Millipede), new technologies that came and went, even a set of wildly convincing arrangements (done with Cico Beck’s crucial input) that ultimately became stepping stones for yet another round of DIY takes. “It was a long, recurring process, and the songs went through so many different versions,” he says, talking about phases of growth (“I added more and more equipment over time”) and pruning, “cleaning up my music a bit.” Tending towards instruments that open up space, and slowly falling in love with sampling, he certainly didn’t rush things once it was time for interior design decisions ;)

“During this whole process I got to learn so much about my own taste, how I prefer to listen to the pieces, which musical elements really matter to me… and what my own voice is. For example, that acoustic elements are most important to me: the banjo, piano, drums, my voice, glockenspiel, trumpet, melodica. Anything that opens up some space.”

Every journey begins with a search: “Missing” with its plucked chords opens like a sunrise over pastoral plains, gently leading the way towards the intricate, playful explosion that occurs once a certain amount of energy (“Sun”) hits dirt and other surfaces: things grow, clot and curdle into new shapes, like new buds; layers of sound move forward, drenched in Spring’s new light. Relying on samples to ask for precipitation (“Rain On Me”), robotic “Low” goes from barren to bass-heavy after its midway shift in pace, full of loops plucked from the shade.

Towards the album’s midpoint, things are suddenly reversed: “Cluster” has that backwards pull, you can’t tell what’s what, yet everything is perfectly locked in, as the pace increases once again. And before the title song shimmers with densified cheering (to eventually stand tall like early Lymbyc Systym), “Beside Me” swipes you off your feet with its booming bass drum. The beat returns once again (“Daydream”), full of searching voices underneath, and at “Dawnday,” we can finally catch a melancholy view of the house. Voices hum. It’s the score moment of the album. Everything makes sense now. A happy end of sorts?

“I want to take people on a journey. A personal journey, too, because when my parents split up and sold the house I grew up in, I felt a bit like the ground had fallen out from under my feet. But I have dedicated the album title and the accompanying piece to this house… so I can keep it in good memory.”

“I Can See Our House From Here” has been a long time coming. It’s been a long journey. Homeward-bound. Leading to a place that’s really Haberl’s – his sound. His frequencies.

Known as a long-time member of The Notwist and various other bands/projects (Alien Ensemble, AMEO, jersey, Ditty etc.), Berlin-based drummer/composer Andi Haberl has also worked with My Brightest Diamond, Till Brönner, Owen Pallet, and Kurt Rosenwinkel, to name a few. “I Can See Our House From Here” is his first solo offering.

Limited White VInyl Version
Solo Paraiso will be available on vinyl for the first time in 10 years and Digitally for the first time.


Solo Paraiso is Molly Nilsson’s mini-album from 2014 recorded during a 6 month residency in Buenos Aires, Argentina.
For it’s 10th Anniversary, Night School and Dark Skies Association is making the most sought after long player in Molly Nilsson’s catalogue available again on a new format with new artwork designed by Molly Nilsson and Jonas Raam.
Pop music rarely comes as honest and heartfelt as when delivered by Molly Nilsson. Having traveled around the world singing to the romantic and the doomed, Nilsson found herself in the Summer of 2014 in Buenos Aires. Inspired by the crumbling urban landscape and the heavy hearts that populate it, Sólo Paraíso is not only an ode to a specific time and space but a musical novella that meditates on youth, idealism and belonging. The soundtrack to a summer you thought you had when looking over bleached out old photo albums.

Sólo Paraíso has the feel of a bridge between the more lo fi, first phase of Nilsson’s career and the expanded sonic scope she has employed in the last decade. Recorded quickly, with instinct and feeling of paramount importance over rectitude or perfection, amongst the eight tracks of this mini LP are some of the biggest fan favourites of her career. As with all Molly Nilsson songs, each of these tracks is bursting with perfect moments. Opener Summer Cats sails over sun-kissed piano chords, chasing the sun eternally as it dips over the horizon, while show-stealer Blue Dollar draws parallels between the doomed Argentine economy and the failure of a love affair. It’s the most feel-good, romantic peon to an economic downturn you’ll ever hear. As Molly says “why is it so damn easy to break all the things that are so damn difficult to make?”
Using cracked synths, shimmering piano, heat-stroked drum machines and above all her direct, from-the-heart vocal delivery, Nilsson’s songs have never been so precise and on-point. For fellow doomed romantics, Sólo Paraíso is the perfect sound for an imperfect Summer.

Solo Paraiso will be available on vinyl for the first time in 10 years and Digitally for the first time.


Solo Paraiso is Molly Nilsson’s mini-album from 2014 recorded during a 6 month residency in Buenos Aires, Argentina.
For it’s 10th Anniversary, Night School and Dark Skies Association is making the most sought after long player in Molly Nilsson’s catalogue available again on a new format with new artwork designed by Molly Nilsson and Jonas Raam.
Pop music rarely comes as honest and heartfelt as when delivered by Molly Nilsson. Having traveled around the world singing to the romantic and the doomed, Nilsson found herself in the Summer of 2014 in Buenos Aires. Inspired by the crumbling urban landscape and the heavy hearts that populate it, Sólo Paraíso is not only an ode to a specific time and space but a musical novella that meditates on youth, idealism and belonging. The soundtrack to a summer you thought you had when looking over bleached out old photo albums.

Sólo Paraíso has the feel of a bridge between the more lo fi, first phase of Nilsson’s career and the expanded sonic scope she has employed in the last decade. Recorded quickly, with instinct and feeling of paramount importance over rectitude or perfection, amongst the eight tracks of this mini LP are some of the biggest fan favourites of her career. As with all Molly Nilsson songs, each of these tracks is bursting with perfect moments. Opener Summer Cats sails over sun-kissed piano chords, chasing the sun eternally as it dips over the horizon, while show-stealer Blue Dollar draws parallels between the doomed Argentine economy and the failure of a love affair. It’s the most feel-good, romantic peon to an economic downturn you’ll ever hear. As Molly says “why is it so damn easy to break all the things that are so damn difficult to make?”
Using cracked synths, shimmering piano, heat-stroked drum machines and above all her direct, from-the-heart vocal delivery, Nilsson’s songs have never been so precise and on-point. For fellow doomed romantics, Sólo Paraíso is the perfect sound for an imperfect Summer.

Plasma Color Vinyl. 'The way Bloomsday's Iris James Garrison writes songs feels like somewhere between a mirror and a memory. Spacious, full-bodied folk songs, they are an ode to things that are good no matter how small; they sometimes feel like the ghost of a Mary Oliver poem. Bloomsday's new record, 'Heart of the Artichoke', is a relic of unfettered creativity and community. They recount the miracles of the mundane, the memories that become sacred, an ode to all that is holy: nightswimming, songs plucked from the ether, the ways friendship can endure. Like earlier Bloomsday songs, the work here is threaded with warmth; it's simmering, crisp and deeply human, an encapsulation of the present moment. Recorded across 10 days in June 2023 in upstate New York at duo Babehoven's studio and co-produced by Babehoven's Ryan Albert, with mixing by Henry Stoehr of Slow Pulp. The record was built out with a wideranging group of collaborators, including inventive drumming from Andrew Stevens (Lomelda, Hovvdy), Alex Harwood, Richard Orofino, Babehoven's Maya Bon, Hannah Pruzinsky (h.pruz, Sister.), and Chris Daley. It was an insulated and collaborative experience: all family dinners on the back porch, bonfires, feeling a full sense of joy, of friendship, of purity in the artistic self. Collaboration is an integral part of Bloomsday's musical process. Garrison is malleable in the studio, their songwriting generous and spacious. But in listening to the record, there's a sense that Garrison leaves room for the players, for the listener; for songs to find the shapes they're meant to take. Garrison's role as maestro is crucial, singular - it's a collaborative, exploratory spirit harnessed by Garrison's intuition, and by an honest commitment to carve out creative space for play, to delve into what's known - or pushing past that, into unknown. "The ghosts of the past still come up and haunt me," Garrison says, "but I sit in what I have and see it. All of these songs are about loved ones, about personal struggles with getting out of my head and being present." Heart of the Artichoke was written from a healed, matured place - written in a moment of safety from chaos. It's a prayer for the present, an appreciation of tenderness and what happens once we give ourselves the space to really see, and really feel - becoming free and whole - an ode to the way healing allows us to bloom.

'The way Bloomsday's Iris James Garrison writes songs feels like somewhere between a mirror and a memory. Spacious, full-bodied folk songs, they are an ode to things that are good no matter how small; they sometimes feel like the ghost of a Mary Oliver poem. Bloomsday's new record, 'Heart of the Artichoke', is a relic of unfettered creativity and community. They recount the miracles of the mundane, the memories that become sacred, an ode to all that is holy: nightswimming, songs plucked from the ether, the ways friendship can endure. Like earlier Bloomsday songs, the work here is threaded with warmth; it's simmering, crisp and deeply human, an encapsulation of the present moment. Recorded across 10 days in June 2023 in upstate New York at duo Babehoven's studio and co-produced by Babehoven's Ryan Albert, with mixing by Henry Stoehr of Slow Pulp. The record was built out with a wideranging group of collaborators, including inventive drumming from Andrew Stevens (Lomelda, Hovvdy), Alex Harwood, Richard Orofino, Babehoven's Maya Bon, Hannah Pruzinsky (h.pruz, Sister.), and Chris Daley. It was an insulated and collaborative experience: all family dinners on the back porch, bonfires, feeling a full sense of joy, of friendship, of purity in the artistic self. Collaboration is an integral part of Bloomsday's musical process. Garrison is malleable in the studio, their songwriting generous and spacious. But in listening to the record, there's a sense that Garrison leaves room for the players, for the listener; for songs to find the shapes they're meant to take. Garrison's role as maestro is crucial, singular - it's a collaborative, exploratory spirit harnessed by Garrison's intuition, and by an honest commitment to carve out creative space for play, to delve into what's known - or pushing past that, into unknown. "The ghosts of the past still come up and haunt me," Garrison says, "but I sit in what I have and see it. All of these songs are about loved ones, about personal struggles with getting out of my head and being present." Heart of the Artichoke was written from a healed, matured place - written in a moment of safety from chaos. It's a prayer for the present, an appreciation of tenderness and what happens once we give ourselves the space to really see, and really feel - becoming free and whole - an ode to the way healing allows us to bloom.

DJ Support: Mark Knight, CJ Mackintosh, Mousse T, Dr Packer, Eric Kupper, Lenny Fontana, Ricky Morrison, Laurent Garnier & many more.

Michael Gray’s star has been firmly in the ascendant in recent years, with a string of chart-topping, floor-filling productions and remixes under his belt. The excitement is therefore palpable for his soon come album Optimism, which sees Michael pour both his heart and his three decades + of experience into what will be one of THE albums of the year.

'This album has been a year and a half in the making,' states the ‘Weekend’ hitmaker and one half of legendary disco house pioneers Full Intention, clearly now keen to release his career-defining magnum opus out into the world.

In these confused and often frightening times, we need musical communion more than ever. Only too aware of this, Michael has 'set out to make an album full of positivity.' Needless to say, the resulting 'hybrid of classic disco mixed with modern disco and soul' hits the spot and looks set to provide a soulful summer soundtrack to lift spirits and fill dancefloors.

In an era of often generic, over-computerised sounds, Michael returns to the source of his lifelong musical inspirations. 'Most of these productions have involved working with live strings and horns,' he enthuses. The musicians include live drums by Derrick Mckenzie from Jamiroquai, percussion by Russ Tarley from Incognito and string arranger Stephen Hussey, known for his work on Soul II Soul’s early hits.

Michael’s much-needed musical missives for the ages are masterful manna from the heavens. Things just got optimistic.

The Telescopes Radio Sessions collects together the essence of three live session recordings in 3 different countries over a three year period between 2016-2019. This is the third in a series of radio session releases from Tapete Records that have so far included The Monochrome Set and Comet Gain. More session releases are being lined up for the rest of the year and beyond - enjoy the sonics and stay tuned. Over the years I have read a lot on people’s impressions of The Telescopes. Some folk think it’s a collective, others imagine it used to be a band and feel nostalgia towards what they consider to be the original line-up (even though many had come before, during and since) and some people refer to it as currently a solo career. In a way this is all true and none of it is. When faced with these kind of questions, along with questions about the style of music that The Telescopes make I often say The Telescopes house has many rooms, which explains things perfectly for me but for people on the outside looking in it only serves to increase their confusion. For me, confusion isn’t such a bad thing. Everything is born into confusion, the sense we try and make of that chaos is interesting and excites me. The universe often disorientates, it sends me a jumble of thoughts and impressions coupled with a feeling of something I need to express… if I could only decipher the encryption. This is how The Telescopes music comes to be and it is also how The Telescopes came to me. I regard The Telescopes as an entity of it’s own that introduced itself in my darkest hour and I was chosen as its vessel. From the second it arrived I was obsessed to the point where there was nothing else. A bit like having an imaginary friend. As the obsession grew it began to infect others, everybody loved my imaginary friend and wanted a piece of it. As its success grew however, so did the corruption, until one day the entity fell silent. The silence lasted for years, I tried everything to reconnect but it was having none of it. I had been a bad caretaker, I had let the house become infested and I had lost my way. This epiphany served to remind me of simpler times when anything felt possible with this entity by my side. It had trusted me with something so simplistically profound and I had let it down. The realisation of this was a eureka moment. I am not The Telescopes, I never was and never will be, I am the caretaker, the lighthouse keeper and if a job is worth doing it is worth doing well. With this dawning, I felt a crack open up in the cosmic egg and a familiar confusion in my head. The entity had returned. It was time to start untangling its tangled threads once more, to make sense of what it was saying, this time without corruption. It’s all about listening. I listen to what my cosmic friend sends me and channel this expression into what you hear through your speakers. It may take one person to achieve this, it may take more. There is no set line up or instrumentation that can hold The Telescopes. Whatever it takes to hit the zone, whatever is available, absolute focus is imperative. Sometimes it takes sabotage to keep that line of vision intact, there is no room for preconceptions or complacency in making the music. The Telescopes music is the now

incarnate and a state of total being is necessary to achieve. From the outside looking in... again, it’s all about listening. What comes through your speakers is the only thing that matters. The music either reaches you or it doesn’t. Everything else may seem interesting or confusing but ultimately it is corruption. So if you’ve bought the record, read the sleeve notes and bought a ticket to see a live show, don’t be surprised if the line-up is or isn’t the same as the recording. The only thing that is for sure is that The Telescopes as an entity is speaking to you in its own voice in every scenario.
Of course the difference between albums and live shows is that you can play the record over and over again to the point where you know every line and every note that was played. Whereas with live events you are left with an impression that can only be replayed in your mind. It can be frustrating at times. When you are touring with a great line-up and feel like something exciting is happening, you want everyone to hear it, not just the people at the shows but the people that couldn’t make it on the night as well. There is no guarantee that there will be the same line-up at a live show as there is on the album. This is why live sessions are important, they document a side of things that is often fleeting. Here we have three sessions, all different people transmitting The Telescopes sound on each. Some are regulars, some dip in and out and some were just passing through. In each case The Telescopes chose them as their vessel and as the lighthouse keeper I did everything I could to help them on that journey while trying to be a good caretaker to the house of many rooms. The Telescopes have been invited in for many sessions over the years, the first two were for John Peel on BBC Radio 1. We also recorded a session for Marc Riley and Mark Radcliffe before their
celebrity when they had a show on BBC Radio Manchester. We could have compiled this album from those sessions, it was certainly considered but Tapete and myself believe this selection gives an exciting glimpse into that fleeting side of The Telescopes in a constant state of flux that is left mostly to myth and imagination. For those who listen to the records but have never had the chance to take in the live experience, welcome to the other side. For those that follow us live, here’s a little reminder and a keepsake. Infinite suns. Stephen Lawrie February 2024.

Strawberry Wind, produced by Richard Swift (Nathaniel Rateliff and The Night Sweats, Foxygen, The Shins) not only delivers on a promise to create an honest album for kids and parents but it represents what Baylin calls the “beautiful divide,” of juggling family life with her creative life, a difficult task by any measure. “The divide in me is easy to feel because I invest 100% of myself into my family and often the creative gets put to the side,” she explained, “so when I decided to begin writing for this album it just poured out of me.” Now singer / songwriter Jessie Baylin shares that creative outpouring on her debut children’s album, ‘Strawberry Wind’. Throughout the album, Baylin doesn’t hold back on telling it like it is. Weaving through lyrical themes of dream life, supermoons and summertime vibes are some gentle doses of reality. “I don’t want to lie to my kids. Life is hard sometimes and you need to find a way to deal with it... there will always be things in life you can’t control. But, you can dream of a better world and make your own refuge,” says Baylin, who is mom to 4-year-old Violet and is expecting her second child with her husband. Baylin, who’s released four critically-acclaimed albums over the years, says the seed was planted for this album after recording a cover of Harry Nilsson’s He Needs Me from the kids’ film Popeye. “The song has a childlike sense, but the message is very deep. It’s magical, it’s dark, and it hit all the right notes. I wanted to do an album that feels like that” she says. “Since becoming a mother, I found myself being around the house a lot and I started gravitating to these wonderful albums I remembered from my own childhood - The Beatles, Harry Nilsson’s The Point!, John Lennon, Roger Miller’s Robin Hood and Carole King’s Really Rosie." The magic of those iconic 1970s records she mentions is that they’re all grounded in solid songwriting and were never dumbed down for the audience. “Those records felt very honest and that was my mission here. I also wanted it to feel magical and remind people of the child inside of all of us that is filled with a sense of wonder and pure joy and hope.”

Following the release of Eric Chenaux's last album Say Laura (2022), The Guardian wrote "the Canadian songwriter has one of the all-time great singing voices in popular music, an intensely romantic Chet Baker-ish instrument that seems to float with piercing direction, like a paper aeroplane thrown hard through mist." With Uncut describing his songcraft "as delicate and lovely as a rare orchid" and Record Collector praising the album's "sublime alien balladry" such are the accolades that have accrued throughout Chenaux's unique and consummately uncompromising solo music for well over a decade now. Delights Of My Life opens a new chapter for the singer/guitarist and formally introduces the Eric Chenaux Trio, with Toronto-based musicians Ryan Driver on Wurlitzer organ and Phillipe Melanson on electronic percussion. Driver is a longtime collaborator, appearing on several of Chenaux's solo albums (even embedded into the very title of the 2010 masterpiece Warm Weather With Ryan Driver). Melanson has a long list of involvements that include Bernice, Joseph Shabason, and U.S Girls, and a recent release with his Impossible Burger project on Chenaux's own experimental label Rat-drifting, but this marks the first fulsome involvement between the two as players on a recording. In many ways Delights Of My Life also picks up right where Chenaux's previous album left off, in its subversions of a classic, timeless jazz-inflected balladry, while the interplay of the trio formation indeed unfurls many new delights. Recording together at Chenaux's spartan home studio in rural France, Driver's harmonically warped organ and Melanson's electroacoustic sampling and percussion hold time in newfound ways. Where previously Chenaux relied on a freeze/sustain pedal and minimalist rhythmic triggers to generate both pulse and chordal foundations, Melanson now paints timekeeping with expressive and intricate colourations, through live deployments of fluid sampled percussion (including orchestral timbres like timpani, kettle drums, and woodblock) that blur the boundaries between acoustic and electronic. Driver also ramps up his role in the song arrangements (prefigured in his support playing on Say Laura), teasing out chords and melodic filigree on Wurlitzer that percolate more prominently with Chenaux's signature fried guitar solos and succulent singing. Both trio members add dulcet backing vocals, most notably on the 10-minute tour-de-force of fuzzed and ring-modulated swing "This Ain't Life" that opens the record. All seven songs on the album groove and sway, simmer and sparkle, like nothing in the inestimable Chenaux discography to date. Chenaux's tunes have the uncanny ability to sound like jazz standards; songs you feel you've heard before, though certainly never quite like this. Yet these are of course all originals, compositionally and interpretively, bent through an inimitable avant/out-music lens. Delights Of My Life conveys warm familiarity, shot through with the exuberantly experimental subversion and playful, even mischievous, iconoclasm that continues to mark Chenaux as defiantly, virtuosically, and genially one-of-kind.

Darning Woman is an intentional, beautiful, sometimes confrontational album that shreds expectations of DIY, bedroom music, and feminine themes. There's a lushness and maternal instinct at play, as Coope connects the dots between physicality, ephemera, and the ultrafeminine. "I don't really like to deal that much with themes of personal hardships, or heartache and love," says Anastasia Coope. "Ultimately, I work most honestly with the language of what is happening in a moment and the passage of time around it. That, coupled with my reaction to entering the artistic landscape, and my thoughts about what does and doesn't get representation, comprises most of this album." Darning Woman explores, among other things, the meditative aspect of sewing, patching and embellishment, care and repair, collection not as modern, craven consumption but as a counterpoint to materialism. This sort of collection - the good kind, the gathering of things to make a home - can be, in Coope's words, "A very baby way to critique capitalism. Birds make nests, right? It can be a new life for a thing that was made. What you surround yourself with matters." To that end, Anastasia Coope is also the founder and leader of the Bonzo collective and show series, an exciting new home for the type of expansive, profoundly creative scene that New York has been missing for some time. And while Bonzo may well be the ascent of a new community, Darning Woman is the story of Anastasia Coope, herself. It is the sound of Coope entering the world as an artist, acknowledging the tangle of what changes - the gaze of the world, Coope's art in reaction and community to art in general - and what does not: her ideas and her own self.

Darning Woman is an intentional, beautiful, sometimes confrontational album that shreds expectations of DIY, bedroom music, and feminine themes. There's a lushness and maternal instinct at play, as Coope connects the dots between physicality, ephemera, and the ultrafeminine. "I don't really like to deal that much with themes of personal hardships, or heartache and love," says Anastasia Coope. "Ultimately, I work most honestly with the language of what is happening in a moment and the passage of time around it. That, coupled with my reaction to entering the artistic landscape, and my thoughts about what does and doesn't get representation, comprises most of this album." Darning Woman explores, among other things, the meditative aspect of sewing, patching and embellishment, care and repair, collection not as modern, craven consumption but as a counterpoint to materialism. This sort of collection - the good kind, the gathering of things to make a home - can be, in Coope's words, "A very baby way to critique capitalism. Birds make nests, right? It can be a new life for a thing that was made. What you surround yourself with matters." To that end, Anastasia Coope is also the founder and leader of the Bonzo collective and show series, an exciting new home for the type of expansive, profoundly creative scene that New York has been missing for some time. And while Bonzo may well be the ascent of a new community, Darning Woman is the story of Anastasia Coope, herself. It is the sound of Coope entering the world as an artist, acknowledging the tangle of what changes - the gaze of the world, Coope's art in reaction and community to art in general - and what does not: her ideas and her own self.

Upchuck are experiencing a moment. The Atlanta punk collective just came off multiple tour runs with their good friend Faye Webster. Their Ty Segall-produced second album Bite The Hand That Feeds, with all its buzzsaw guitars and high-speed rippers and headbanging sludge, arrived in October. Later this year, they’ll make appearances at multiple festivals including Coachella. In the midst of relentlessly barreling ahead, the band and their label Famous Class are taking a beat to revisit how they got here. After working with Segall on Bite the Hand That Feeds, the band floated the notion that they wished they could hear what their collaborator could do with the songs on their 2022 debut album Sense Yourself. Holed up in his studio over Christmas with COVID and nothing else to do, Ty Segall began toying with Sense Yourself, sifting through folders of unlabeled stems to find the best guitar parts, emboldening the drum sound, and bringing greater clarity to KT’s vocals, all while bolstering the urgency of the band’s overall attack. With Segall’s new mix, Upchuck’s intense and righteous debut now impossibly overflows with even more fuzz and fury. In Segall, they found a kindred spirit whose studio approach made sense for just how hard they wanted this music to hit. “When we first went to record with Ty for Bite the Hand That Feeds, Mikey and I walked into the guitar room and Ty said, ‘Don’t touch the EQs.’ We looked at the amp and everything was on 10 except the master volume,” Hoff said. Previously, the band had been encouraged to capture the unvarnished sound of the studio. They’d toured with Segall’s band Fuzz, so everybody had the same goal while recording together: Capture the electricity of their intense live set. The band’s shows have a reputation for coming unglued, and there’s no greater document of that than Sense Yourself’s iconic album artwork. With no text, it’s a candid photo of a moment from a show shot on film without editing: blood streaked across KT’s face as they shout into the mic. In the middle of their EP release show, KT was in the pit as a fan started crowd surfing inside a shopping cart. A loose piece of metal near a wheel caught the singer right near the eyebrow and blood was everywhere, an instant piece of iconography snapped by probably every camera phone in the room. When Hoff revisits the message of this first album and Upchuck’s first songs, he thinks back to the year before the band even started when he and KT were hanging out. “We were sitting around talking for eight hours like ‘fuck, that's fucked up, that's fucked up.’” Upchuck became a vehicle for these five people to process how fucked up everything it is—to digest these formative hours-long conversations and put them to bludgeoning, intense rock music. The music is also fun as hell, and that’s part of the point. “There's a lot we need to do as people and a lot of things we need to fix in society but also like come on man like have your fun, wild out, have your drink,” KT says. “But be on your shit at the same time. Check your folk.”

Die BMX Bandits veröffentlichen seit Jahrzehnten in unregelmäßigen Abständen großartige und kompromisslose Alben. Mit ihrem zwölften Album "Dreamers on the Run" haben die Indie-Pop-Ikonen nun, man kann es nicht anders sagen, ein brillantes, ambitioniertes Meisterwerk aufgenommen. Fast scheint es, als hätten sich Duglas T. Stewart und seine rechte Hand Andrew Pattie in Schottland ein Brill Building selbstgebaut um die elf neuen Songs zu schreiben, zu arrangieren und zu produzieren. Das Ergebnis ist ultra-romantischer POP und der Beweis, dass Duglas und die Bandits zum illustren Kreis der großen Pop-Außenseiter wie Jonathan Richman, Martin Newell oder Curt Boettcher gehören. Außenseitertum hat bei allen Nachteilen auch gute Seiten, denn erstaunlich oft haben Aussenseiter*innen die besten Songs!

In one sense, it’s easy for artists—songwriters, specifically—to express their feelings in their work. After all, that’s what the lyrics are for! But it’s much harder to convey emotional energy in how you play, slash at the guitar, and the structure of the music itself. That’s precisely why Girl and Girl’s Sub Pop debut, Call A Doctor, feels like such a vital, electrifying shock to the senses. Not since the early work of Car Seat Headrest or Conor Oberst’s widescreen emotional brutality as Bright Eyes has indie rock managed to come across as this intimate and grandiose, as the Australian quartet led by Kai James lay a lifetime’s worth of woes—mental health, the human race’s planned obsolescence if you’ve been living on this cursed rock you know what we’re getting at—across a canvas of indie rock that feels both timeless and in-the-moment.

An audacious and aggressively tuneful blast of a record, Call A Doctor is an unforgettable first bow from Girl and Girl, whose origins lie in James and guitarist Jayden Williams jamming in his mother’s garage in the afternoon after school. One afternoon, James’ Aunty Liss headed down to their practice space after walking her dog and asked if she could sit in on drums. “It sounded really great,” James recalls. “We begged her to stay, and she said, ‘I’ll stay until you find another drummer.’ We wore her down, and she eventually became a permanent member.”

After bassist Fraser Bell joined to round things out, Girl and Girl hit the road and began to make a name for themselves beyond the Australian bush, eventually signing to Sub Pop off the strength of word of mouth. Call A Doctor came together quickly soon after, largely recorded in marathon sessions in a two-story industrial complex over the course of two weeks. “That added to the intensity of the album,” James says about the frenzied creative process overseen by producer Burke Reid. “I can hear the stress in the record, which is good because that’s what it’s about—being tense, tied up, and in your own head.”

Call A Doctor’s eleven songs—spanning sweeping guitar epics and wry acoustic shuffles to spiky punk maneuvers and the type of raw, adoringly unvarnished indie-pop associated with legendary PacNW label K Records—are literally plucked from James’ personal history, as he reworked older recordings with newer lyrics reflecting his past struggles as well as new anxieties that emerged prior to the album’s recording. “I’ve struggled with mental health for a lot of my life,” he explains, “and I went through a particularly difficult patch when we were making the album; the band had started to get some attention, and I felt an enormous amount of pressure to live up to it.”

Far from the sound of collapsing under pressure, Call A Doctor finds James and Co. stepping up with their entire collective chest. This is a record that’s so out-and-out alive that you nearly feel like you’re in the same room with Girl and Girl as you listen to it; lead single “Hello” practically bursts through the speakers, amplified by Aunty Liss’ unbelievable stickhandling duties. “‘Hello’ is all about romanticizing your own misery. Letting those deep, dark, dirty thoughts take over. Understanding that even if you could pull yourself out, you wouldn’t because the constant stress and worry is far too familiar and comfortable.”

“Mother” pogos on a spiky groove that’s reminiscent of the geographically close New Zealanders who make up the legendary Flying Nun label, while “Oh Boy” draws from the Shins’ own jangly sound, injected with James’ wonderfully nervy vocals. Then there’s Call A Doctor’s sorta-centerpiece “Maple Jean and the Anthropocene,” a five-minute epic offering a new perspective on climate change and the notion of what it means, in a personal sense, to suffer: “I live in the bushland, and I was driving home one night and hit and killed a wallaby with my car,” James recalls while discussing the song’s lyrical inspiration. “My first thought was, ‘What is the universe trying to tell me?’ No remorse, no guilt, just total self-centeredness. Which was like, Woah, you fucking psychopath! This wallaby wasn’t put on this earth to send you a message. That’s what the song is about, our egocentric species - thinking you’re the main character and that everything that happens is somehow about you.”

“This record is about an individual who’s too far in their head, trying to get out,” James continues while discussing Call A Doctor’s overall outlook—specifically the snapshot it offers of its creator. But even though this record deals with uneasy topics we all know well from within ourselves, it’s important to emphasize how teeming with life Girl and Girl’s music is. There’s a brazen, bold sense of humor to this stuff, an undeniable brightness to the darkness that makes it impossible not to be drawn in as a listener. Feeling down never sounded so goddamn good.

Introducing John Coltrane 'Now Playing' on Translucent Blue Vinyl - Uncover the brilliance of jazz legend John Coltrane through a tracklist uncovering rich gems, such as the iconic "Giant Steps", the soulful "Naima," demonstrating Coltrane's virtuosity and innovation, the enchanting melodies of "My Favorite Things, Pt. 1" and the tender ballad "I'll Wait and Pray" as the perfect start or continuation of your musical journey

In one sense, it's easy for artists-songwriters, specifically-to express their feelings in their work. After all, that's what the lyrics are for! But it's much harder to convey emotional energy in how you play, slash at the guitar, and the structure of the music itself. That's precisely why Girl and Girl's Sub Pop debut, Call A Doctor, feels like such a vital, electrifying shock to the senses. Not since the early work of Car Seat Headrest or Conor Oberst's widescreen emotional brutality as Bright Eyes has indie rock managed to come across as this intimate and grandiose, as the Australian quartet led by Kai James lay a lifetime's worth of woes-mental health, the human race's planned obsolescence if you've been living on this cursed rock you know what we're getting at-across a canvas of indie rock that feels both timeless and in-the-moment. An audacious and aggressively tuneful blast of a record, Call A Doctor is an unforgettable first bow from Girl and Girl, whose origins lie in James and guitarist Jayden Williams jamming in his mother's garage in the afternoon after school. One afternoon, James' Aunty Liss headed down to their practice space after walking her dog and asked if she could sit in on drums. "It sounded really great," James recalls. "We begged her to stay, and she said, 'I'll stay until you find another drummer.' We wore her down, and she eventually became a permanent member." After bassist Fraser Bell joined to round things out, Girl and Girl hit the road and began to make a name for themselves beyond the Australian bush, eventually signing to Sub Pop off the strength of word of mouth. Call A Doctor came together quickly soon after, largely recorded in marathon sessions in a two-story industrial complex over the course of two weeks. "That added to the intensity of the album," James says about the frenzied creative process overseen by producer Burke Reid. "I can hear the stress in the record, which is good because that's what it's about-being tense, tied up, and in your own head." Call A Doctor's eleven songs-spanning sweeping guitar epics and wry acoustic shuffles to spiky punk maneuvers and the type of raw, adoringly unvarnished indie-pop associated with legendary PacNW label K Records-are literally plucked from James' personal history, as he reworked older recordings with newer lyrics reflecting his past struggles as well as new anxieties that emerged prior to the album's recording. "I've struggled with mental health for a lot of my life," he explains, "and I went through a particularly difficult patch when we were making the album; the band had started to get some attention, and I felt an enormous amount of pressure to live up to it." "This record is about an individual who's too far in their head, trying to get out," James continues while discussing Call A Doctor's overall outlook-specifically the snapshot it offers of its creator. But even though this record deals with uneasy topics we all know well from within ourselves, it's important to emphasize how teeming with life Girl and Girl's music is. There's a brazen, bold sense of humor to this stuff, an undeniable brightness to the darkness that makes it impossible not to be drawn in as a listener. Feeling down never sounded so goddamn good.

Deluxe 180g vinyl. Art Edition LP includes set of six 12”x12” art cards.



The follow-up to Kee Avil's acclaimed 2022 debut Crease: "A stunning debut" (The Quietus); "A whiplash style of uninhibited exploration" (The Wire); "Kee Avil's debut is a force" (Foxy Digitalis); "A work of Frankensteinian wonder" (Electronic Sound); "A tightly coiled, finely wrought vision of avant-pop" (Exclaim); "A debut of fiendish creativity" (Bandcamp Album Of The Day / Albums Of The Year) Kee Avil's music is both adventurous and intimate, intellectually challenging and emotionally resonant. The Montréal guitarist and producer's 2022 debut LP Crease garnered plaudits from outlets like The Wire, The Quietus, Mojo and Foxy Digitalis, picking up a Canadian Juno Award nomination and Bandcamp Album Of The Day and Albums Of The Year along the way. Its intricate construction, unnerving atmospheres, and knife-edge take on avant-pop prompted comparisons to early PJ Harvey, This Heat, and Gazelle Twin. A remix EP with work by claire rousay, Ami Dang, Cecile Believe, and Pelada brought collaborative perspectives to four Crease tracks, offering new pathways within those songs. With Spine, Kee Avil strips back her heavily textured compositions, opening up a much rawer sound. She calls it folk… and while traditionalists might scoff, this is urgent music that reflects the precarity of modern life, as well as the jarring mixture of electronic and real-world interactions that have become the fabric of our day-to-day experiences. There's a hypnotic post-punk somnambulance to it all, using the repetition and fracturing of melodic phrases interwoven with delicate electronics to create curious and persistent hooks. While not a concept album, themes of time's passage, remembrance, and decay crop up across multiple tracks. Each track intentionally only has four elements - guitar, electronics, and two other instruments, with Kee's voice and guitar pushed to the front. Within this minimalist framework, the juxtaposition of beauty and discomfort that is key to the Kee Avil sound stands out in skin-prickling relief. "We're shaped by many versions of ourselves," says Avil. "I was looking back at these versions of myself and what could have been, what didn't end up being and what did end up being, and going back like that through time. Seeing the future, the past." Spine was written in Kee Avil's home studio after a lapse in writing while touring Crease and working on other projects. She is a well-known and respected member of the Montréal experimental scene, and formerly ran Concrete Sound Studio with Zach Scholes, who continues to work with her as a producer on Spine. Compared to the three years that went into making her debut, Spine emerged in a matter of months - a process that may also be a factor in its intensity and sharpness: "This record was much harder, like it was really discovering everything from scratch." In her desire to not simply replicate or extend the sound of Crease, she felt she had to rip up the rule book, write in a different way, and pare back songs against her usual instincts. Sometimes, when we work against our ingrained habits, we get to the core of who we really are. Spine is an exercise in that process. Without over-intellectualizing or being didactic, it hits immediately and emotionally, especially if you are a person who has spent much time in the process of self-examination. Kee's voice hisses, whispers, and chants; her guitar bends and rings; electronics skitter and crackle; violin creaks like a door in the wind. There is something so evocative about the atmospheres she creates that it's easy to overlay one's own feelings onto her work, but to do that wholly would be to overlook one of the most important things about Spine: Kee Avil's clear and thoughtful vision. This isn't just the next step forward in her artistic trajectory; it's a stunner of a record that stands on its own, a bracing and thrilling listen that has much to reveal about the contradictions inherent in being human. - jj skolnik

Forest Green Vinyl

Seafood Sam is a futuristic artifact. If that description might sound confusing at first, it matches the eclectic dualities found in true originals. With his effortless cool and timeless style, the North Long Beach native defies convention and exact comparison. He's a virtuosic rapper, a stop-you-in-your tracks singer, and a symphonic producer. Welcome to the lavish life of a laid-back transcontinental man of mystery, rolling in old school Cadillacs, eating caviar with a blade in his pocket, and making plays in vintage Pelle Pelle gear. A blaxploitation icon for the Instagram age, blessed with the bars of a `90s legend and 23rd century swagger. Seafood Sam is a true hero of modernity. On his full-length album debut for up-and-coming label drink sum wtr (Kari Faux, Deem Spencer, Aja Monet) debut, Standing on Giant Shoulders, Sam splits the difference between Snoop Dogg and D' Angelo, Curren$y and David Ruffin. The songs reveal a forward-thinking sensibility rooted in ancestral soul. He creates spiritual hymns for the streets that tap into universal ideals and irrepressible groove. In an era plagued by short-term thinking, his ambitions reveal a crate-digging depth of music history and a meticulous ear for detail. The giant shoulders in the album's title refer to James Brown, Bobby Brown, and Miles Davis - the holy trinity who inspired Sam's process. From the Godfather of Soul, Sam took a perfectionist's rigor and focus. The example of Bobby Brown lent an unshakeable confidence and self-belief. While the constant artistic left turns of the trumpeter that birthed Ccool offered an aspirational archetype. The story starts in the glory days of Long Beach hip-hop. As a young child, the G-Funk era soundtracked rides in Sam's father's car. Some of his earliest memories are trying to memorize Snoop's verse on "Nuthin' But a "G" Thang." Beyond gangsta rap, the LBC has historically doubled as a capital of lowrider soul and carwash oldies. At any intersection, you could hear Dogg Food or Brenton Wood, Warren G or Barbara Lynn. This too was absorbed via osmosis. It also just so happened that the art of performance was always in Sam's blood. So at family functions, he and his sister supplied entertainment by singing karaoke renditions of The Isley Brothers. While his Harlem Shake remains a thing of local lore. Long Beach is a culturally diverse mecca of skate parks and gang life, street fashion and tricky dance moves. This is the place that raised Sam on a diet of Wu-Tang and Nelly Furtado, Lil Bow Wow and Allen Iverson. He was the middle ground between his two older brothers: one who gangbanged, the other who graduated with a master's degree from UC-Santa Barbara. But it wasn't until the end of high school that Sam started to take rap seriously. Alongside long-time collaborators like Huey Briss and Reaper Mook, Sam's name began to make waves on the northside of the city, but he was partially distracted by a modeling career that paid the bills and took him all to way to walk in Paris' fashion week. The first turning point arrived with 2018's "Ramsey," a self-produced, slick-talk anthem with over 10,000,000 streams across all platforms. With each subsequent release, Sam showcased his peerless consistency, building buzz both online and in the city streets. Spin hailed his "smooth and unhurried cadences and understated lyricism_ that sounds like nothing else in Long Beach." Clash raved about Sam's "evolution as an artist, cruising through nostalgic production with slick, witty rhymes." The culmination arrives with Standing on Giant Shoulders. It's the evidence of a master, a young sensei in the model of Quincy Jones. All rhymes, singing, production, and arrangements were handled by Sam - with an assist from his close Long Beach kinsman Tom Kendall from the group Soular System. It's hard-edged and lyrical enough for disciples of Larry June and Roc Marciano, but orchestral and melodic enough for fans of Anderson .Paak and H.E.R.

"Imagine: It’s sometime in the back half of the 19th century, America. You’re sitting in the parlor of your mansion, or in the only room of your shack; things are dusty and smell like sweat and hair, no matter how wealthy you may be. You don’t own a phonograph, and you don’t know who Tony Hawk is, but you have an inkling of how good the word 'shred' is going to feel when it enters the local slang. Suddenly, a tall, elegant figure with beautifully maintained fingernails emerges from some corner of the room, carrying a guitar. He says in a soft voice, 'I have a transmission for you, from the coming few centuries. Would you like to hear it? I figured you wouldn’t have a dongle, so I brought my guitar.' You may be apprehensive, but you shouldn’t be. Shane happens to be an internationally renowned virtuoso of the guitar. Specifically, he’s the kind of virtuoso who is as deep on style as he is on technique. His technical prowess is almost maddeningly complete; aiming paradoxically for the yards-long target called “breadth” he’s somehow hit all of it, 500 arrows piercing every pore of the landscape. He has that much technique not for the sake of guitar worship but to best bring the music forth clearly and in his own hand, like a pearl formed in a specific sea. I know this because I’ve sat next to him in multiple countries and American states and seen him deliver transmissions of that extreme honesty, with that extreme capability. Like Derek Bailey’s 'Ballads,' this record brings you into the room and the breath of a true musician whose mastery does not overshadow his appreciation of the music that inspired it. The title, 'Repertoire,' underscores the beautiful songs he chose to perform, all standards of 20th century musical excellence. The in-time persistence of his blues-walked 'Lonely Woman.' The grand registral descent he performs on 'Pithecanthropus Erectus,' like a rare document of the trip down from Everest. Dig how 'Better Get Hit in Your Soul,' emphasizes the folk blues water coursing through Mingus’s Ellingtonia, how Aphex Twin’s 'Avril 14' and the Minutemen’s 'Cohesion' sound so much older than Cage’s 'Totem Ancestors.' 'Repertoire' puts forth the idea that time is arrangement: time and arrangement are each only as successful as they are faithful to their origins and expansive in their style. Again, lest you fear the alien smoothness some associate with the concept 'virtuoso,' remember here we’re dealing with a time- traveler. His virtuosity is home grown, born of human work rather than some abstract or divine touch; the aim is not to go beyond the realm of human technical possibility but to expand it in the direction of human, meaning, timely. This guy can play anything, and for you, for this record, which sounds intimate and as present as a transmission from a time-traveler, he chooses to."—Wendy Eisenberg