Search:thou

Wenn sie nicht gerade aus dem Fenster auf die stürmische Skyline von Manhattan blickte, verbrachte Margo Guryan ihre dreißiger Jahre damit, Ohrwürmer für Leute wie Bobbie Gentry, Jackie DeShannon, Claudine Longet, Carmen McCrae und Julie London bei CBS's April Blackwood Music zu schreiben. Guryans zeitlose Gedanken über Liebe, Sonntage, Erdbeben, Weinen und Jungs namens Timothy haben unzählige Filme und virale Videos unterlegt. Meisterwerke aus früheren Zeiten. 28 ihrer Songwriting-Demos aus den 60er und 70er Jahren sind auf dieser 25-jährigen Jubiläums-Doppelalbum-Edition.

2025 Repress in Arctic Pearl Vinyl
Alles fließt, nichts bleibt wie es ist. Diese philosophische Erkenntnis gilt auch für das dritte Studioalbum der aufstrebenden niederländischen Rockband DOOL. Der treffende Titel "The Shape of Fluidity" zielt keineswegs nur auf die musikalische Innovation. Sondern das Album dreht sich um Themen wie persönlicher Wandel, physische Veränderung, psychologische Weiterentwicklung und die sich erneuernde Welt um uns herum. DOOL und insbesondere Sänger/in und Gitarrist/in Raven van Dorst stellen Fragen: Wie wirkt sich der Wandel auf uns aus? Wie bleiben wir uns selbst in einer Welt treu, die so unglaublich herausfordernd und aggressiv gegenüber dem Individuum ist? Wir müssen so fließend wie Wasser sein, um in diesem Ozean von Möglichkeiten und Ungewissheiten erfolgreich zu navigieren - und Frieden mit Chaos und Unbeständigkeit zu schließen. Musikalisch setzen DOOL den auf den beiden vorangegangenen Studioalben eingeschlagenen Weg fort, der emotionale Rockmusik mit Elementen aus dem Metal kombiniert. Dabei demonstrieren die Niederländer eine auffällige Reife und Kontrolle im Songwriting, die aus Jahren der Erfahrung gewachsen sind. "The Shape of Fluidity" zeigt eine eklektische, aber nahtlose Verschmelzung von Progressive und Post-Rock sowie Doom und Heavy Metal, die mit einer stets präsenten Eingängigkeit und hintergründigen Dynamik kombiniert sind. Es ist offenkundig, dass sich das Album thematisch mit dem Konzept der Identität vor dem Hintergrund einer sich ständig verändernden Welt befasst. Die Texte des Albums sind eng mit der Biografie von Leadsänger/in Raven verknüpft. Von Geburt an intersexuell, entschieden die Ärzte chirurgisch, dass der Säugling als Mädchen durchs Leben gehen solle. Dies führte zu einer Existenz auf der Suche nach der eigenen Seele, dem Kampf gegen Tabus und die Überschreitung von Grenzen, bis Raven vor kurzem beschloss, das zurückzufordern, was andere versuchten hatten, ihnen wegzunehmen - und ihre hermaphroditische Natur zu akzeptieren. Der Bandname DOOL leitet sich vom niederländischen Wort für "Wandern" ab. Bereits das im Jahr 2017 erschienene Debütalbum "Here Now, There Then" landete einen sofortigen Volltreffer. Der frisch-wilde Rock- und Metalsound aus den Niederlanden wurde von den renommierten deutschen Magazinen Metal Hammer und Rock Hard zum "Album des Monats" gekürt. Auch Vice (US), Aardschok (NL) und De Volkskrant (NL) überschütteten die junge Band mit Lob. Mit ihrem zweiten Album "Summerland", das 2020 erschien, übertrafen DOOL die ohnehin schon hochgesteckten Erwartungen. Es gab weitere "Album des Monats"-Auszeichnungen in den deutschen Magazinen Rock Hard (10/10) und Sonic Seducer sowie eine #2 Soundcheck-Position in Metal Hammer (DE) und Metal.de, und eine weitere #1 im polnischen Metal Hammer - mit einem Berg herausragender Kritiken auf beiden Seiten des Atlantiks. Mit "The Shape of Fluidity" bieten DOOL sehr viel mehr als nur verdammt coole Musik. Die zusätzlichen Dimensionen von Tiefe und Bedeutung sind Teil ihres einzigartigen Reizes und kommen auf dem neuen Album deutlich zum Vorschein. Mögen sich alle, die wandern, unter der fluiden Flagge von DOOL versammeln!

On April 4th, Brighton-based Australian vocalist, producer, and multi-instrumentalist Penelope Trappes will release her fifth full-length album ‘A Requiem’. It comes alongside news of her signing to London imprint, One Little Independent Records. ‘A Requiem’ collects ten haunting, ambient soundscapes - incantations of dreams and nightmares, of death and grief, as well as power and autonomy. Carnal, transcendent cello drones are used to exorcise historical and generational traumas in an evocative and macabre piece of gothic experimentalism.

Seeking solitude for what she knew would be an intense and cathartic writing experience, Trappes travelled to Scotland and isolated completely. Amidst meditative and psychedelic states, she channeled demons and accessed parts of herself she’d long desired to cleanse. During candle-lit recording sessions she found herself drawn to cello, an instrument she has no formal training in, she explains, “I always felt an affinity toward the cello, I embraced it, held it, and became one with it as a way to accompany my voice. The nerve-like strings of the cello became external chords of my vocal folds… I scratched on them, leaned into them, and conjured all of the textures I could muster”.

‘A Requiem’ is a musical service in honour of the dead, a sanctuary Trappes built for herself to explore familial chaos and history. “I was looking for an equilibrium between a ‘heaven' and a ‘hell’” she explains, “screaming out to the wisdom of our foremothers - surfacing and leading me into true strength and beauty. I listened to the sorrow closely. Death is a part of our reality. Inevitable. Omnipresent. But nightmares can be beautiful”.

She continues, “This album is my personal requiem for my parents, my ties to the land where I was born, along with all of my epigenetically connected ancestors before them. The songs helped me summon up the strength to move through my own awareness of mortality, death, and impending loss. This album is a living funeral. It’s a ceremonial collection of music. It’s an externalising of the power and strength to fight the generations of abuse and darkness that my parents self-admittedly played out in their parenting and to keep it away from my own social patterns and my psyche. It’s not an uncommon thing in the world and this lamented warcry goes out to everyone to help exorcise patriarchal, political, and religious systems of abuses of power”.

In the midst of recording his 12th album 'Why The Worry', wavering in his resolve to finish what he'd started, Seth Walker came to the realization: "This does not define me; this is not who I am forever; this is just a moment" . "Distance colors compositions over the years and each album is left as merely a reflection of its own period in time." The new album finds Walker reunited with old friends and familiar names. Once again Jano Rix steps behind the boards, co-producing the album with Seth and engineer Brook Sutton. In the producer's fifth outing he's become an invaluable sounding board, the kind that knows what's missing and, just as importantly, what needs to be taken away. Oliver Wood (The Wood Brothers) lends a pen to the title track and Seth's classically trained father Scott adds strings to "I'm Getting Ready," a song penned by Walker's contemporary Michael Kiwanuka. Mostly, though, the record was shepherded into shape by Walker's trio, rounded out by longtime confidants Rhees Williams (Guitar, Piano) and Mark Raudabaugh (Drums). The three let the studio guide them, entering without agenda, set straight by the title's mantra to stop worrying where they'd end up.

Fraufraulein, the San Francisco duo of Billy Gomberg and Andy Guthrie, are master world builders. Their work is immersive — it wraps around you like a warm coat, guiding you deep into a trance-like state. Time moves in slow circles, folds in on itself, and unspools like caught fishing line. It’s tempting to say Guthrie and Gomberg construct a new reality with their work, but I think they’re revealing the contours of familiar territory, gluing together a complicated mirror more than constructing a quotidian diorama. Their music reflects a truth that we all share in some way. It’s the pauses between thoughts, the little observations that color a day, the beauty of how others’ lives imbricate for brief moments before pulling apart completely. Fraufraulein’s music feels beamed from inner space, the soft parts of our consciousness that glow like a flashlight beneath fingertips.

It’s also tempting to call Greater Honeyguide, the duo’s new record — and first in four years — a tool for fostering presence. Each composition can serve as a meditative space, and observing the quietly unfurling layers of sound — a footfall and a quiet breath, scraps of overlapping melodies sung like notes to self, synthesizers droning lightly in the distance — can be a very calming, grounding experience. But I also love to let these pieces guide me through the sulci of my brain like a slot canyon, emerging at some long-forgotten memory or idea. Think of it as a passively-active experience, like looking out of a train window, watching the scenery blur together. At the end of the album’s 37 minutes, I feel transformed. Not necessarily different, just in tune with something else. Something beyond. Something within.

*180g virgin leaded vinyl in a deluxe textured heavy gatefold cover, with paste-on artwork and special anti-static innersleeve.* Note: The pressing is absolute on point!!!!

Vincent Gallo and Harper Simon with a beautifully recorded suite of songs and instrumentals.

" More than two decades since he blew minds with a suite of brilliant releases on Warp, Vincent Gallo returns to the world of music at long last in Butterfly, his duo with Harper Simon, with the project’s full-length debut, “The Music of Butterfly”. A gesture of gentle, DIY / bedroom left-field pop, falling within the rough territory for which Gallo became renowned during the late '90s and early 2000s, while interweaving fascinating flirtations with minimalism and experimentalism, it’s a truly captivating piece of work that’s hard to get off the turntable after the first needle drop.

In the arts, the lines between genius and madness, as well as fact and fiction, often blur. Such, it seems, has always been the life of the artist, filmmaker, actor, musician, and composer Vincent Gallo. A cult figure and a member of various creative undergrounds for the better part of half a century, Gallo has courted controversy, ruffled feathers, and made some of the most singular statements to flirt at the outer edges of popular culture that can be called to mind. Arguably most well known for his work in film, during the late '90s and early 2000s - notably with his soundtrack for “Buffalo 66” and a suite of releases on Warp - Gallo became something of a sensation in the world of independent music for a visionary, incredibly unique and sensitive approach to sonority. For a time, the world was abuzz, waiting on bated breath for more, and yet time passed. Bar a few fragments, appearing here and there, almost nothing has been heard from Gallo, within the world of music, for more than 20 years. That is, until now, with the release of “The Music of Butterfly”, the debut full-length of Butterfly, his duo with Harper Simon: beautifully produced and issued by Family Friend Records - Gallo’s own label, founded in 1981 - in a deluxe edition that simply left us speechless: 180g vinyl in textured heavy gatefold cover with paste-on artwork and thick anti-static innersleeve. More or less picking up from where we last encountered him, spinning captivating melodies and gentle song-craft within the quieter temperaments of DIY, left-field pop, once again, and at long last, Vincent Gallo, encountered in an incredibly successful collaboration with Harper Simon as Butterfly, reminds us that he’s as much a force within the realm of music as he is within film. Not to be missed. This one isn’t going to sit around for long.

Vincent Gallo’s biography reads like the stuff of blaring beauty: a figure of moderate fame in his own right, who has remained at the centre of cultural ferment as the decades have rolled by. Born in 1961, in Buffalo, New York, as the story goes he ran away to New York City at the age of 16 and fell into the brewing counterculture of the Downtown scene, William Burroughs and John Giorno, in addition to the cream of his own peers, and began making paintings, music, and experimenting with film. In addition to being a member of the now legendary band Gray, with the artist, Jean-Michel Basquiat, and the filmmaker, Michael Holman, Gallo appeared in the cult 1981 film “Downtown 81”, before slowly beginning a career as an actor and catching the eye of Claire Denis, who brought his talents into the broader cultural gaze. Catapulted into the public by his own subsequent career as a filmmaker with “Buffalo '66” (1998) and “The Brown Bunny” (2003), both of which were marked by controversy and praise, Gallo further captivated the public with a partially brilliant, if not relatively brief, flurry of activity in the realms of music.

While Gallo had already been making music for roughly two decades at the time of his release of the “Brown Bunny” soundtrack, and the four release issued by Warp in rapid succession between 2001 and 2002 - “When”, “Honey Bunny”, “So Sad”, and “Recordings of Music for Film” - the almost fanatical fandom reached a fever pitch at the moment, allowing him, for some, to be regarded as much, if not more, as a musical artist than an actor and filmmaker. Anyway you cut it, in a few short years, he proved himself to be a polymath of rare talent. Somewhere along the way, while both were working as members of Yoko Ono's Plastic One Band, Gallo met the New York based, highly regarded singer-songwriter, guitarist, and producer, Harper Simon, who also happens to be the son of Paul Simon. The pair fell into an incredibly fruitful duo collaboration, which came to be called Butterfly, and “The Music of Butterfly” being their debut full-length release.

Written, performed, and recorded by Vincent Gallo and Harper Simon in New York City between the winter of 2018 and the spring of 2019, the ten tracks comprising “The Music of Butterfly” are cumulatively a gesture of gentle, DIY / bedroom left-field pop, falling within the rough territory for which Gallo became renowned during the late '90s and early 2000s, making one feel like barely a moment had passed since we’d encountered his graceful hand at song-craft. Stripped back and raw, while retaining a sense of warmth and intimacy, across the length of “The Music of Butterfly” the duo of Gallo and Simon weave something completely captivating at the juncture of minimalism, experimentalism, and pop: meandering moments of texture and tone, slowly forming toward flirtations of melody that flower into song and back again. Somehow playful and light, while also remarkably emotive and personal, it’s almost as though each of these tracks crystallised out the air, unlabored and exactly as they should be without a note or beat more.

An engrossing immersion into both Gallo and Simon’s remarkably accomplished minds, having followed the path toward one another after radically different experiences and careers, “The Music of Butterfly” is one of those records that’ll be hard to get off the turntable after that first needle drop, and rarely leave the listening pile for some time to come. Issued by Family Friend Records in a beautiful deluxe edition that is unmatched even among the most stunning recent productions we can call to mind - 180g vinyl in textured heavy gatefold cover with paste-on artwork and thick anti-static innersleeve - it’s lovely to have Gallo back in the musical mix after so many years. "

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Almost as soon as Σtella Chronopoulou began writing Adagio, her fifth album as Σtella, she knew the time had finally come to sing in Greek, her native tongue. It would be a first. She started the record almost by accident in 2019, during an 11-hour boat ride to the island of Anafi. Σtella had recently gone through a patch of personal turmoil and needed a break from home. On the ferry, she pulled out her cell phone as the boat clipped through the Mediterranean and began with a simple melody, steadily piecing together a rough instrumental. As psychedelic keyboards twinkled and swayed above staccato drums, the track suggested some deep exhalation, as if Σtella were letting go of long-unnecessary baggage. For a spell, she set the instrumental aside. She wasn’t ready yet, or in a rush. Σtella, after all, grew up in a slow place. During her youth in a relatively rural suburb of Athens, Greece, she and her friends played unfettered in empty streets, not worried about cars or permission, and living felt easy. But in the last decade life has steadily become busier for Σtella, now based in the heart of Athens. She has become one of modern Greece’s most popular musical exports, with three sophisticated, playful pop albums rendered with international élan. After her Sub Pop debut, Up and Away, in 2022, she catapulted beyond three million monthly Spotify listeners. That success was a blessing, but Σtella sometimes found herself pining for the slower pace of her youth. That longing is the thread that loosely binds together her fifth album, the entrancing Adagio. Borrowing its name from the term for music that’s meant to be played slowly, Adagio is a pop record that feels like a very warm blanket, its nylon-string guitars and featherlight percussion swaddling its listeners for three minutes at a time. Written and recorded over the span of five years, with a consortium of international collaborators including !!!’s Rafael Cohen and British songwriter Gabriel Stebbing, Adagio is a 27-minute meditation on love and desire, rest and time. Though the bulk of it is sung in English, Σtella delivers her first two songs in Greek here—“Omorfo Mou,” the one that began on the boat, and a cover of a 1969 cult classic of the Greek New Wave, Litsa Sakelariou’s “Ta Vimata.” It is a sign of the self-assurance that radiates throughout these tender and smitten little tunes. Start to finish, Σtella sounds more at ease and comfortable than she’s ever been on Adagio. These fetching songs will not slow her career or grant her that title track’s wish. But, for half an hour, Adagio adds a measure of warmth to the world, with time loosening its grip even if it doesn’t slow down.● Athens, Greece-based Σtella’s new album Adagio is a pop record that feels like a very warm blanket, its nylon-string guitars and featherlight percussion swaddling its listeners for three minutes at a time.● Features Rafael Cohen and British songwriter Gabriel Stebbing.• Σtella’s breakout hit “Charmed” from her 2022 album Up and Away has nearly 100 million streams, and was recently featured in the hit Max show Industry.• On Spotify, Σtella has 3.4 million followers, 66k monthly listeners.

During their short but prolific career, A2L released two albums & numerous EPs on labels such as 1st Bass / Big One and Force Inc between 1988 and 1990. This is a collection of early and rare underground British psychedelic house gems from 1989, blending the trippy, mind-expanding sounds of machine funk, new beat, industrial/ebm, samplers and turntables techniques, with the birth of acid house wonderlandand and captures the raw energy of the UK rave scene.



During their short but prolific career, A2L released two albums, one of which strangely landed on a South African label. They also dropped numerous EPs on labels such as 1st Bass / Big One (home to acts like Deskee, Longsy D, and King Bee) and the German label Force Inc (which hosted artists like Alec Empire, Porter Ricks, and Mike Ink), between 1988 and 1990.

While Acid House is synonymous with the Roland 303, A2L is unlikely an acid house act. Instead, they stand as one of the finest examples of British psychedelic house music from the late 80s, falling between the likesof S-Express, Funtopia, Eon, and Acid Angels. With standout tracks like "Even Though It's Make Believe" and "Come On," A2L delivers infectious grooves over strobelight sample jams.

This here is a collection of early and rare underground British psychedelic house gems from 1989, blending the trippy, mind-expanding sounds of machine funk, new beat, industrial/ebm, samplers and turntables techniques, with the birth of acid house wonderlandand and captures the raw energy of the UK rave scene.


This is one testament to the creative freedom and experimental nature of that era.

For fans of the burgeoning British psychedelic and acid house scene.

** Japanese Pressing **

The once thought impossible-to-reissue album a Japanese duo (Fumio Ichimura, Masao Hiruma) "Testpattern"s only album Apres-Midi (originally released on October 21, 1982) produced by Hosono Haruomi is finally set to be reissued on vinyl.

The original master was discovered in ALFA MUSIC’s warehouse, processed with top-tier digital technology, and cut for vinyl by Katsutoshi Kitamura (Warner Music Mastering).

The 55th Anniversary Project of ALFA MUSIC brings you a groundbreaking release.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

If every significant artist has an underrated gem in its catalog, then Mirage is that album for Fleetwood Mac. An obvious return to relative simplicity after the dramatic tension of Rumours and experimental ambitions of Tusk, the 1982 album finds the band re-grouping after a brief hiatus and again climbing to the top of the charts. Extremely well-crafted, well-produced, and well-performed, the double-platinum effort distills the group’s hallmark strengths into a filler-free set that never runs short of addictive pop hooks or daft accents.

Sourced from the original analog master tapes, pressed at Fidelity Record Pressing in California, and housed in a Stoughton jacket, Mobile Fidelity’s numbered-edition 180g 45RPM 2LP set presents Mirage in reference sound for the first time. The efforts co-producers/engineers Ken Caillat and Richard Dashut went to capture the splintered albeit formidable band can be heard with stunning accuracy, range, depth, and detail.

Though Rumours understandably gets a permanent spot in the audiophile hall of fame, the smooth, clear, and dynamic sonics on Mirage confirm that the record that stood as Fleetwood Mac’s last effort for five years deserves a place in the same vaunted arena. The presence and imaging of Mick Fleetwood’s percussion alone on this reissue might have you wondering how this slice of soft-rock bliss has gone under-noticed for decades. Other prized aural aspects — separation, definition, impact, tonal balance — are also here in spades.

Like much surrounding Fleetwood Mac in the 1980s, arriving at Mirage was not easy. Caillat searched for studios located outside of Los Angeles on a mission to change up the vibe of the band’s prior recording sessions. Everyone settled on Le Chateau in France, where relations between some members remained icy — and cooperation with the producers strained. Battles with exhaustion, bitterness, and addiction further informed the proceedings at the 18th century complex in the French countryside, where even communal meals were allegedly eaten in silence.

Inevitably, the feelings that co-producer Lindsey Buckingham, Stevie Nicks, Christine McVie, and company harbored — as well as the situations in which they found themselves — drifted into the songwriting. In its rapid ascent to rock-star royalty status, Fleetwood Mac drifted apart, embarked on solo pursuits, and found it was lonely at the top. Emptiness, the illusion of dreams, the longing for love, the want to escape to bygone times of innocence and happiness: Such themes inform a majority of the narratives. Even if the lyrics regularly take a back seat to easygoing arrangements that allow Mirage to come on like a refreshing breeze on a sunny summer afternoon.

Home to three Top 25 singles in the U.S. and having occupied the pole position of the Top 200 album charts for five weeks, Mirage rightfully resonated with the mainstream and attracted listeners on both sides of the pond. And how, via a smart blend of sugary melodies, warm harmonies, interlaced notes, nimble rhythms, taut structures, and passionate vocals. Not to mention the presence of what arguably remains Nicks’ signature song, the biographical “Gypsy,” a meditation on the loss of her close friend Robin Anderson that teems with majesty, mystery, and mysticism — and which gets an assist from Buckingham’s shaded tack piano and richly strummed guitar chords.

Its ranking as an all-time classic aside, that No. 12 hit has plenty of company when it comes to brilliant pop turns on Mirage. On the subject of Nicks, the raspy singer gets a little bit country on “That’s Alright.” Its clip-clopping pace and two-stepping progression complement subtle vocal swells that emerge during the final verse of a tune that is ostensibly about leaving but still conveys forgiveness and grace. And what would a Fleetwood Mac record be without Nicks drawing on the tools of the supernatural — cards, dreams, wolves, and the like — on the twirling “Straight Back.”

Despite the potency of Nicks’ primary contributions, Mirage seemingly unfolds as a tight competition between Buckingham and McVie — and one that ultimately ends in a draw. Buckingham’s salvos include the contagious “Can’t Go Back,” a yearning to time-travel back to the past that’s complete with hall-of-mirrors backing vocals; “Oh Diane,” out-of- left-field ear candy sweetened with hiccupped vocals and salt-and-pepper-shaken grooves; the chiming “Eyes of the World”; and “Empire State,” a delightfully fluttering track whose high-range vocals, lap harp notes, and ringing xylophones hint at the galaxies of sound that would erupt on Tango in the Night.

Then there’s McVie. As elegant, understated, and coolheaded as she’s ever been on record, she pours her heart out on cuts that revolve around her inevitable split with Beach Boy Dennis Wilson. In the process, she punctuates Mirage with a characteristic not always associated with catchy pop music: emotional weight, and the sense of dreaded acceptance in the face of dreams deferred.

“I wish you were here/Holding me tight,” McVie sings over a delicate melody on the album-closing piano ballad “Wish You Were Here.” Though they hoped otherwise, for the members Fleetwood Mac, distance and separation were always close at hand. Believing otherwise, inviting nostalgia, and pretending everything was fine only amounts to a mirage.

Each of the ten tracks on "mixtape suite" is likely to evoke such absurd associations in music lovers. The album authentically and unpredictably creates a feeling of total boundlessness with a global approach. Effortlessly uniting an entire record shop within itself. One time you think of Madlib or the Bee Gees, then of Joan Baez or Amon Düül, other times of Beck or Gorillaz. Between boom bap and Krautrock, disco styles, folk references and trip-hop vibes spread out organically. Analogue percussion blurs with 90s sampling sound aesthetics.
TIKHET sounds unplanned and anarchic, with a raw core and some well rounded patina on the outside.
1883 Magazin: "Keep an eye on this emerging act"

Mesmerized: "the project has all the elements needed for a powerful musical output..., an impressive debut for the visionary pair"
Indieshake: "Fucking love this"

The Irish producer t-woc makes his return to Rudimentary Records with Scenes, Journeys & Colors, his second LP for the label. The bones of the album was made during the 'quiet time' starting with a track that didn’t make the cut on this release but had provided the blueprint to that project titled ‘Street Soul Osaka’. It was a recent chance encounter with a lone boombox playing actual street soul on a pavement in Osaka that it became clear the project needed to be released and the album was completed in Dublin in 2024.

This album is crafted through a blend of samples, live instrumentation, field recordings and studio experimentation. The tracks are a mix of the slow and low, interspersed with minimal ambient pieces with a pronounced dub undercurrent, and a tip of the hat to the cosmos. There are also some vocoders and a fair dose of weirdness.

Since his 2016 LP for Rudimentary - ‘Sentinelas’, t-woc has released with Strangelove Records, Emotional Response, Macadam Mambo amongst others and is a regular contributor to DJ Sofa’s Elsewhere compilation series.

The Crystal Hum is the debut vinyl release by Taiwan-based artist Yuching Huang and her first release for Night School.
A beguiling dreamscape of crackles, spluttering, love-struck Casios presided over by the the spectral vocal and guitar work of Huang, Yuching sings love songs at the end of this world and the beginning of the next. Recorded during a hiatus from her group Aemong (a duo with artist Henrique Uba) in Berlin, these songs elevate Huang’s unique vocal style and grasp of atmospherics. The Crystal Hum deconstructs balladry, Garage, guitar music and reforms it into a
unified ghostly otherworld version of these languages.

The Crystal Hum thrums with buried desire, trails of nocturnal reverb seeping out of apartment windows, diaristic vocal performances and deeply emotive, evocative Western-style strings. Formulated by Yuching Huang after periods of frustration and experimentation, the album is an exercise in minimalism and paring back, with some tracks like JohnJohn featuring little else than an elastic bass, spring reverb trails, an interjecting vocal and swelling, dislocated synths. The effect is spellbinding, the soundtrack to getting lost in the labyrinthine, closed streets of Venice, Taipei, Hong Kong, or mirror versions of them in the imagination.

On opener Fly! Little Black Thing, a subterranean funk bassline roots Huang’s singing, a rudimentary, unreliable beat floundering in whimsy underneath. Demure, dream Dance music, Huang references classic lo fi experimenters Suicide and Arthur Russell as well as Night School label mates The Space Lady and Ela Orleans. In fact, after the release of Aemong’s third album Crimson, Huang credits the direction of The Crystal Hum to being enchanted by The Space Lady’s Greatest Hits,
the landmark lo-fi recording made by Susan Dietrich Schneider in 1990. The new, minimalist approach to her sound world reveals and shrouds in equal measure. On the heart-melter Love, a sultry mid-tempo Casio + bass backing drops into the ether with Huang’s vocal swimming in preternatural void before emerging anew, in awe at the world. Every chord change heralds new perspectives, every guitar flurry swells and drips emotion, nothing is wasted and space billows out from between the grooves.
Huang never reveals more than necessary, making this an in-between love album: the right amount of mystery and darkened mirror shines wanely on The Crystal Hum while remaining fragile and vulnerable in the sweet spots. Turning over in pillowing smoke and night in the dark corners, Huang sings in both Mandarin and English. The songs speak of earthly matters seemingly at the edge of dissipating into nothing. Distorted, beguiling Sambas warble like sweating dancehalls in an imagined Lynchian 60s, as on Thoughts. Closer You, An Illusion warps a classic 60s Girlgroup bassline beloved of the likes of Les Rallizes

Denudes into a slight ballad on the edge of the void, held back by the teary-eyed, wistful and enveloping vocal cooed by Huang. Each song feels like a love song dedicated to the bits between worlds, between beats, the negative space between people where desires, feelings and loss hangs in the air, resolute and unresolved.

The 2 Tone sound was a great period in the aftermath of Punk and included influences taken from Jamaican Ska.

Mal-One had already worked on some Two Tone collages and had them put aside for some future project. He thought it would be fun to record some tracks related to these images and sounds. The first track he recorded was an instrumental track in the style of Harry J All Stars ‘Liquidator’ which he called ‘Rude Boy Shuffle’. Initially to be put out as a stand alone track on some reggae label of some sort. He had a poem already which he called ‘Two Tone Story’, so put that on top of the ‘Ska Train Is Back In Town’ rhythm which he had put together for another song of that name. Finally ‘Rude Boys and Rude Girls Listen Up! ‘came together.

Adding to this a couple of dub mixes and we have a 6 track 12”. Mal-One thought the artwork worked better on a 12” format.

Hope you enjoy the outcome.

'Through Today' is the sophomore album for rising Australian band Chimers. A husband / wife duo comprising life partners Padraic Skehan (vocals / guitar) and Binx (drums / vocals). Recorded by Jono Boulet (Party Dozen) over two days at Stranded Studios, Wollongong and mixed at Boulet’s Sydney home studio, produced by the band and veteran manager / promoter / producer Tim Pittman (Feel Presents), 'Through Today' features ten tracks of tightly-coiled intensity that barely lets up for all of its 34 mins. In enlisting Boulet, the band were confident that due to his own experience of being one half of Party Dozen, they had someone who understood the confines of working within the structure of a two-piece but also the possibilities that creates. Boulet, in turn, rewarding that trust by capturing a powerful bedrock of sound that allowed the band's taught rhythms to circle and permeate and yet give full breathing space for the melody within. For Pittman’s part, having a third ear on hand to devote serious listening time and critical commentary was an added bonus. It’s a major step forward from the band’s 2021 self-titled debut. A twelve track effort that snuck out during covid and only hinted at the power within. "Our debut felt more like just trying to capture the songs we had at the time, we weren’t sure if we’d even release it or if it would be our only album" "This time around we were intent on capturing the energy and intensity of our live show on the recording but with a more produced sound than self-titled. We worked more on song structure previous to the sessions. We rehearsed a lot playing quietly so we could actually talk to each other whilst playing the song and iron out any kinks.” “Jono turned the whole live room into a drum room, mics everywhere. The guitar amps were situated outside to prevent too much spill but still recorded live along with about half of the vocals. Second guitar and the rest of the vocals were recorded the next day. Jono was super quick and had the same work ethic and mindset, get in, get it done. If the first take was good enough, move on.” - Padraic Lyrically Chimers maintain the intensity as they tackle the themes of love, life, death and relationships, distance from home (Padraic is Irish, moving to Australia in 2001) and the current political climate providing enough drama to fuel a forest fire. Guest musicians on the album include saxophonist Kirsty Tickle - also of Party Dozen - and violinist Jordan Ireland of The Middle East. Both of whom were invited in on short notice adding their respective parts in just 1-2 takes each without any prior knowledge of the material. Binx too showing added versatility contributing lead vocals to An Echo and sharing lead across 3AM, Generator and others. “Singing is not something that comes naturally to me, and it was at the last minute before we went into the studio that Padraic suggested I sing the lead in An Echo. Having very minimal musical instruments within the band I think having the two different vocals adds a nice dynamic to the record.” - Binx 'Through Today' is a great album. Solid and confident from the get go. No waste. No unnecessary fat. Should it be Chimers last it would remain a defining statement of originality and intent. But it’s not the last, it’s just the beginning. And there’s plenty more where that came from. BIO Like many good bands Chimers are a band born of isolation, not geographically though, via the pandemic. Irish born Padraic Skehan and his life partner Binx, formed the band in their Wollongong backyard during the initial lockdown of 2020. Veterans and drummers both of the ‘Gong’s vibrant garage-scene – The Pink Fits, The Drop Offs, Evol and more – Chimers is an altogether different beast, Padraic taking a giant leap forward by removing himself from the back-seat and assuming the role of driver; singing, playing guitar and writing the songs that would eventually become their 2021 self-titled debut album. It’s a sound and album that draws heavily on Skehan’s time as a youth in Ireland and the post-hardcore sounds of Dischord Records, Husker Du, The Wipers and which has seen the band find friends and favour in like-minds The Mark Of Cain, Henry Rollins, Guy Picciotto and Mudhoney. This is no mere nostalgia though, the band instead landing at the vanguard of a new generation of Sydney and surrounds bands – Body Type, Second Idol, Dust, Private Wives, R.M.F.C – borrowing from the past in order to create a future.

On Chrystia Cabral's fourth album as SPELLLING, the Bay Area artist transforms her acclaimed avant-pop project into a mirror. Cabral's lyrics for Portrait of My Heart tackle love, intimacy, anxiety, and alienation, trading the allegorical approach of much of her previous work for something pointed into her human heart. The album's thematic forthrightness is echoed in its arrangements, making it the sharpest, most direct SPELLLING album to date. From the dark minimalism of her earliest music to the lavishly orchestrated prog-pop of 2021's The Turning Wheel to this newly energetic expression of her creative spirit, Cabral has proved again and again that SPELLLING can be whatever she needs it to be. The title track, with its propulsive drum groove and anthemic chorus of "I don't belong here," is the most potent embodiment of the album's turn toward emotional directness. Once the main melody emerged, Cabral used the song as a tool to process her anxiety as a performer and opted for a tighter, more rock-oriented composition. This transformation mirrors the album's broader shift toward energy and immediacy, driven by the core band of Wyatt Overson (guitar), Patrick Shelley (drums), and Giulio Xavier Cetto (bass), whose collaboration uncovers new contours of the SPELLLING sound. Cabral still writes and demos in isolation, but presenting the songs for Portrait of My Heart to her bandmates helped her discover their eventual lively, organic forms. So did working with a trio of producers_The Turning Wheel mixing engineer Drew Vandenberg, SZA collaborator Rob Bisel, and Yves Tumor producer Psymun. Key guest contributions further shape the album. Chaz Bear (Toro y Moi) delivers SPELLLING's first duet on "Mount Analogue," Turnstile guitarist Pat McCrory turns Cabral's original piano demo for "Alibi" into the crunchy, riff-y version that appears on the record, while Zulu's Braxton Marcellous gives "Drain" its sludgy heft. These parts aren't just incorporated seamlessly into the album; they feel like an integral part of its universe. Ultimately, though, Portrait of My Heart is nobody's record but Cabral's. She fearlessly draws the curtain back on parts of herself that she's never included in SPELLLING before_her feelings of being an outsider, her overly guarded nature, the way she can throw herself recklessly into intimate relationships and then cool on them just as quickly. "It's very much an open diary of all those sensations," she says.

Fresh from the triumphant return of a successful domestic and international tour, Smif-N-Wessun's new album is a cumulative reflection of their life experiences. Executive produced by college professor and world-renowned producer 9th Wonder and the Soul Council, 9th explains the thought process with the album. “I wanted to make sure that it didn't sound dated. It sounds like them (Smif-N-Wessun), but it's also new. They are our generation's version of Thelonious Monk, Charlie Parker, Donald Byrd.”

Illustrious MCs featured on the album include Buckshot, Pharoahe Monch, Conway the Machine, legendary artists Sean Price and Prodigy, multi-platinum RnB legend Ralph Tresvant, along with rising stars Sweta and Jalisa. Scheduled for release January 10th, 2025, Infinity cements Smif-N-Wessun's status as creators of nothing but classics. This is their eighth album and the second collaboration with 9th Wonder and the Soul Council. Showcasing buttery beats from Council members, 9th Wonder himself, Khrysis, SND*TRK, Kash, Mu'aath, and Nottz, the album delivers a sonic smash that will satisfy everyone from the rap purist to new school connoisseurs.

Two killer tracks of erotic psychedelia with a jazzy twist and touches of acid rock by the French cabaret star Rita and Chilean rock pioneers Aguaturbia. A perfect soundtrack to an imaginary sexploitation film, half-way between the classic sound of library records and a progressive and hypnotic musical journey driven by fuzzy guitars. French actress, model, dancer and singer Rita Cadillac, local star at well-known Parisian cabarets like Crazy Horse or Folies Bergère, recorded several 45s in the 1960s. In 1969, and most likely following the success of the Welsh band Man (from whom they "took inspiration" when recorded this 'Erotica'), released this song that could have easily worked as the perfect soundtrack for a sexploitation movie. Rita's sensual voice is wrapped in a piece of background music that could have been taken from a classic library record from the KPM, Chappell or Montparnasse 2000 catalogues. Hammond-driven prog jazzy passages, subtle fuzzy guitar solos and a contagious bassline all delivered by some anonymous studio band accompanied by Rita's provocative whispers and moans. This 7"-only rarity has been compiled many times over the years, but we thought it would be nice to have it reissued in its original format. What better than another song in a similar vein and identical title, 'Erotica' by Chilean rock pioneers Aguaturbia, to complete this single? Denise's alluring vocals dance harmoniously with Carlos' electrifying guitar loaded with fuzz and wah wah effects, building up a progressive and hypnotic musical journey. This song was included in their much sought-after debut LP and we present it here again as the perfect accompaniment to the sensual Rita.

2025 cassette edition, originally released in 2023 on 2CD/digital.

Recordings + booklet of the unveiling of »Katharina AW«, a relational artwork by Joris Martens. The unveiling event took place at St. Catharine’s Church in Hoogstraten - a city in the northeast of Belgium - on two Saturdays in May 2021.

While beholding the artwork, a woven tapestry, you listen to organ music by Miaux. Outside the church, you hear the carillon gurgle with music by Lieven Martens and town carillonneur Luc Dockx, prolonging the event into the public space.

Joris Martens created »Katharina AW« for the city hall of Hoogstraten. The tapestry now serves as an informal conversation starter in the conference room. Joris Martens is a multi-disciplinary artist and works in the field where applied arts and fine arts meet.

Miaux played her own compositions on the church organ. The songs appeared on the albums Black Space White Cloud, Hideaway, Dive and Gigi - released by Ultra Eczema, Lal Lal Lal, and Alien Passengers - and were originally written for electronic keyboard. Mia demonstrates that the church organ, which is normally used as an underscore for sadness or compelling thoughts, is a fitting instrument of connection. Through its resonance, we communicate our sounds.

Lieven Martens invented sketches for the carillon—by loading bird sounds into the computer program Melodyne, varying them and converting them to musical notes. As a nod to the religion crazy Olivier Messiaen, who considered the birds to be God’s chosen singers and songstresses. The trifles were translated on the carillon by town carillonneur Luc Dockx. The playing comes into and out of focus. In this way, Lieven creates a dreamscape and breaks with the dreary carillon as an instrument of power.

Luc Dockx studied church music at the Lemmens Institute in Leuven and the carillon at the Royal Carillon School in Mechelen. He is the city carillonneur of Hoogstraten since 2002. Dockx is an active practitioner of the art of improvisation on the carillon.

Black Fairy is a fairy tale, but not in the traditional sense. When writing this play, i did not want to re-create the types of fantasies which are so common in Childrens theater. There is no kind of magic that can relieve black children from the oppression that retards their development. However, i do feel giving them a better understanding of their heritage can help them achieve their true potential. And those of us who are concerned with their development should try to expose them to knowledge that gives them a positive sense of identity. Although i do feel a chldren's play should be entertaining, I also feel it should be educational. Also, because there are so few children's plays which reflect the black experience, I wanted to write a play that Black children could identify with.

"Black Fairy" is a musical drama about a black fairy who lacks pride in herself and feels she has to offer Black children. But when she meets Black Bird and Queen Mother (Who take her to ancient Egypt, East Afrika, a southern slave plantation and the streets of Harlem) she begins toget a better understanding of her heritage. Her journey through the past enables Black Fairy to meet Aesop, Brer Rabbit, Brer Fox, Uncle Remus, Stag-o-lee, Leadbelly and many other characters in Black folklore and Black history. At the end of her journey, Black fairy realizes that "Being Black is nothing to be ashamed of" and is then able to share her knowledge with other Black children. Even though Black Fairy doesn't completely resolve her dilemma, having a knowledge of her heritage does give her more confidence to cope with the future.

During ther summer of 1974 "Black Fairy" was performed for over four thousand children in Chicago. And, in April of 1975, it played to over two thousand children in Detroit at Mercy College.

"Black Fairy" is the only the first of many children's plays we hope to produce at the Better Boys Foundation. There is an Afrikan proverb which says: "Children are the reward of life". We at Better Boys Foundationm are dedicated to this belief, and feel that helping childrren to appreciate their heritage is one means of showing our concern for their development.

“Onde” is a story about continuous change, in which the sea resonates everywhere, from the gentle movement that can lull before it transforms into a tidal wave that destroys, making a clean sweep. It holds within itself numerous metaphors and multiple states of mind that, like sea waves, can take on thousands of forms.
While all water moves, changing shape and force, each song lets sounds pass through it within a sea of frequencies in which Cristiano della Monica's percussion and Ernesto Nobili's guitars guarantee Maria Mazzotta's song the possibility to navigate onward. The voice shoves off and sets sail, allowing itself to be hurled far away, sinking before returning to the surface and, finally, finding rest. For the three musicians who, from Lecce and Naples, have always had the sea in their minds and eyes, this album tells the story of the movement of the sea, from the torment that navigating it entails to the relief that, in the end, each landing offers.

A Paradise In The Hold is an album of yearning. It’s about Ivor Novello Award winning Yazz Ahmed’s dual heritage, drawing on traditional music and folklore as well as her own personal experience as a British-Bahraini woman. A sweeping epic where tradition meets innovation, she melds ancient rhythms with contemporary musicianship. The record is a tribute to the sorrowful songs of Bahrain’s pearl divers, the strength of Arab women, and the celebratory rhythms of women's traditional drumming circles, while also telling the story of Yazz’s own decade-long voyage of selfdiscovery. The album also marks Yazz’s first foray into writing lyrics, in both English and Arabic, bringing a new dimension to her expansive sound. The project features an impressive roster of collaborators, including vocalists Natacha Atlas, Brigitte Beraha, and percussionist Corrina Silvester. With A Paradise In The Hold, Ahmed delivers a groundbreaking fusion of tradition and innovation, creating a contemporary jazz project that is set to make a lasting impact on the genre

»Sometimes Things Change« is an album after a year of profound change. A year with a new job, moving houses, and many visits to the IVF clinic. »Sometimes Things Change« brings closure, and is an artistic starting point. In the course of seven compositions memories, thoughts and fantasia meet.

»The sounds (…) they’re from whatever I happen to be doing wherever I ​happen to be. But these sounds hold memories because I was there, living those moments.« These recorded sounds - flowing like a journal - are mediated through compositional/improvisational interventions. By doing this, the artist expands the source material beyond its own circumstances.

TYRON is a tale of two halves exposing human complexity. Just as with the narrative of his own life, there are always two sides to every story. Side one re-introduces us to the classic hubris, machismo, and braggadocio typical of rap music. Side two takes what you thought you knew about slowthai and flips on its head. ‘feel away’ and ‘nhs’ go some way to dip a toe inside the complexities of his mind but delve deeper and you’ll be left with a clearer understanding of who he truly is. Honesty is paramount as ultimately Ty wants listeners to know that “it’s ok to be yourself”.

TYRON was formed against the backdrop of an unforgiving climate where judgement, shaming and underdeveloped and simplistic conceptions of other people are fashionable. Instead of succumbing to such simplicity, TYRON presents an artist who is unabashedly complicated and willing to explore themes of loneliness, identity, self-acceptance, and the difficulties in becoming an individual. Unlike the political overtone of slowthai’s debut album ‘Nothing Great About Britain’ which took listeners on a journey through slowthai’s turbulent upbringing and his stance on British life – this self-titled follow up, TYRON is a melodic dive through the expansive landscape of his feelings. His ability to bear his imperfections and contradictions makes TYRON an album that is the antithesis of a culture of purity. A resistance to the rising tide of moral one-upmanship and the pervasive self-righteousness that blinds us to our own fallibility.

Repress on Limited Crystal Clear Vinyl and Black Vinyl to coincide with new album ‘Daylight’ release

The album was recorded at the top of an East London tower block, mixed in a beach hut on Camber Sands and gilded by Bollywood strings is already setting its sights hide and wide, but when the sound and vision encompasses panoramic electronic soul laced with a viscerally personal reaction to the mad times we’re living through, we’re in the presence of something special

Our two British protagonists are Sean Dickson, a former indie star who reinvented himself as an electronic adventurist - musician, DJ, producer – whose last album Ft. featured a stellar line-up of guest vocalists, including Yoko Ono, Fred Schneider (B- 52’s), Alan Vega, Crystal Waters (fronting ‘Testify’, which topped the US Billboard dance chart) and David McAlmont - the last, a thrilling singing sensation with an illustrious history, from indie-soul pioneers Thieves and the legendary McAlmont & Butler to purer soul and jazz recordings and a striking collaboration with minimalist composer Michael Nyman.

Pharoahe Monch is one of the most revered and influential emcees in the history of hip-hop, and 2024 marks the 10th anniversary of his fourth studio album "PTSD: Post Traumatic Stress Disorder".

In PTSD, Pharoahe Monch continues the story he began telling in his previous LP, "W.A.R. (We Are Renegades)" from 2011. The Queens emcee narrates, in both literal and metaphoric ways, about the trials and tribulations of an independent artist who is at war with the music industry and the struggle of the black male experience in America.

In 2012, during an interview with Shawn Setaro, host of the podcast The Cipher, the rapper explained the connections between the two projects, beyond their titles. “The W.A.R. album was like, I’m going to battle against the machine, I’m doing this independently. I’m putting some things out that I learned and I’m going to expose about the music industry. PTSD is the result of me doing that, where I am emotionally now. It’s similar to how someone comes back from war and is stricken by re-adjusting to a regular situation.”

Monch told MTV Hive that PTSD is “more mental, emotional and personal” because it came out of the depths of a period of depression. He also gave the internal and external factors that helped him create the album. “I was working on the title track, which took me to a point in between Internal Affairs and Desire, where I was heavily depressed. Through the waiting period, the industry period, and going through a lot emotionally. Then there was the physical problem with asthma. It was the worst. So I started off with that title track and my manager was like, ‘Yo, let’s really dive into that state and how you got to where you are now, and how this follows what people go through to get back to a so-called ‘normal’ situation’.”

The concept album follows a veteran through combat experience, his return home, relationship dissolution, drug addiction, painful depression, and, finally, a triumphant but realistically rendered decision to keep living and struggling.

Ignite’s A Place Called Home 25th anniversary edition on vinyl with bonus tracks out in March 2025 Svart Records is proud to reissue the Californian melodic hardcore band Ignite’s album A Place Called Home. Previously released on vinyl only on its original release date in 2000 on TVT Records, A Place Called Home will finally be available on wax again on March 21st, 2025. Formed in Orange County in 1993, Ignite's sound is hard to pin down. Their music contains elements of punk, hardcore, alternative, and even heavy metal. Their 30-year career has produced several classic albums with A Place Called Home being their commercial breakthrough album, combining the spirit and muscle of hardcore and the catchy tunes of west coast punk rock. Sixteen songs loaded with great hooks, compelling, socially conscious lyrics, and the heaviness that hard music fans love. The band’s bassist and founding member Brett Rasmussen comments the reissue: "When I found out that the guys at Svart Records were licensing A Place Called Home for a vinyl reissue I was beyond stoked. This album will finally be available again, after being out of press for so long, and this time there will be colored vinyl! I'm really looking forward to spinning this reissue and I'm happy that it will be available for our fans to enjoy again on a turntable." The authorised Svart Records 25th anniversary edition of this modern genre-defining classic contains three bonus tracks previously only available on the European CD version of the album and comes with an insert. Available on Svart exclusive black & white marble vinyl, limited transparent red vinyl, and classic black vinyl. A Place Called Home is out on March 21st, 2025.

Ignite’s A Place Called Home 25th anniversary edition on vinyl with bonus tracks out in March 2025 Svart Records is proud to reissue the Californian melodic hardcore band Ignite’s album A Place Called Home. Previously released on vinyl only on its original release date in 2000 on TVT Records, A Place Called Home will finally be available on wax again on March 21st, 2025. Formed in Orange County in 1993, Ignite's sound is hard to pin down. Their music contains elements of punk, hardcore, alternative, and even heavy metal. Their 30-year career has produced several classic albums with A Place Called Home being their commercial breakthrough album, combining the spirit and muscle of hardcore and the catchy tunes of west coast punk rock. Sixteen songs loaded with great hooks, compelling, socially conscious lyrics, and the heaviness that hard music fans love. The band’s bassist and founding member Brett Rasmussen comments the reissue: "When I found out that the guys at Svart Records were licensing A Place Called Home for a vinyl reissue I was beyond stoked. This album will finally be available again, after being out of press for so long, and this time there will be colored vinyl! I'm really looking forward to spinning this reissue and I'm happy that it will be available for our fans to enjoy again on a turntable." The authorised Svart Records 25th anniversary edition of this modern genre-defining classic contains three bonus tracks previously only available on the European CD version of the album and comes with an insert. Available on Svart exclusive black & white marble vinyl, limited transparent red vinyl, and classic black vinyl. A Place Called Home is out on March 21st, 2025.

Obliteration is imminent: As The World Dies return with their triumphant second offering. “Nebula” is a colossal lesson in crushing death metal and cosmic mysticism. “‘Nebula’ is the quintessence of what As The World Dies is all about,” band leader and scene veteran Scott Fairfax says. “We pushed our musical boundaries and wanted to create an album that was both brutal and thought-provoking. It’s heavier, darker and more profound than anything we’ve done before.”

While we go about our petty business, leading our small and insignificant live under the sun, death is hurtling towards us at breakneck speed: An asteroid names Apophis will come in very close contact with planet Earth in 2029. Aptly named after the Egyptian god of dissolution, darkness and chaos, it has the power to obliterate life as we know it. Seriously: it doesn’t get any more death metal than this.

Scott Fairfax is well aware of that. The death metal veteran of Memoriam fame is back with his other vehicle of death and destruction, As The World Dies. Three years after their earthshattering and star-studded debut “Agonist”, he’s taking things into space with “Nebula”, a cosmic death metal requiem of colossal proportions. Brought to life and recorded mostly by Scott Fairfax alone in his home studio, this isn’t so much of a band effort and rather the work of a dedicated individual pissed off by pretty much everything going on around him.

Angry, haunting and miserable songs are, though. “Nebula” is full of them. An album like an uncompromising alien threat to our planet, as unrelenting and indifferent as an asteroid. The end is coming, folks. Let’s all enjoy it while we can

Obliteration is imminent: As The World Dies return with their triumphant second offering. “Nebula” is a colossal lesson in crushing death metal and cosmic mysticism. “‘Nebula’ is the quintessence of what As The World Dies is all about,” band leader and scene veteran Scott Fairfax says. “We pushed our musical boundaries and wanted to create an album that was both brutal and thought-provoking. It’s heavier, darker and more profound than anything we’ve done before.”

While we go about our petty business, leading our small and insignificant live under the sun, death is hurtling towards us at breakneck speed: An asteroid names Apophis will come in very close contact with planet Earth in 2029. Aptly named after the Egyptian god of dissolution, darkness and chaos, it has the power to obliterate life as we know it. Seriously: it doesn’t get any more death metal than this.

Scott Fairfax is well aware of that. The death metal veteran of Memoriam fame is back with his other vehicle of death and destruction, As The World Dies. Three years after their earthshattering and star-studded debut “Agonist”, he’s taking things into space with “Nebula”, a cosmic death metal requiem of colossal proportions. Brought to life and recorded mostly by Scott Fairfax alone in his home studio, this isn’t so much of a band effort and rather the work of a dedicated individual pissed off by pretty much everything going on around him.

Angry, haunting and miserable songs are, though. “Nebula” is full of them. An album like an uncompromising alien threat to our planet, as unrelenting and indifferent as an asteroid. The end is coming, folks. Let’s all enjoy it while we can

Midwest band Church Tongue have announced they have signed to Pure Noise Records and will release EP "You'll Know It Was Me" on 14th February 2025. The 6 track EP continues its complex, uncompromising and emotionally charged sound with guest features from Colin Young (Hardlore podcast), George Clarke (Deafheaven), and Crystal Pak (Initiate)​"You’ll Know It Was Me is a short record about love. Love looks like a lot of things, and each track touches on it in its own way." says Mike Sugars. "People close to me have heard about me wanting to make this kind of record for a long time. I just hadn’t grown enough to realise the dream of it, and I knew it had to be a Church Tongue record. I’ve been with this band, these guys, for the majority of my life now. I’ve made records with other bands, and so have the other guys, but this idea felt sacred to my beginnings. I knew this record was in us, was who we are, and I’m honoured to have made it with my brothers."

The Taxpayers are a long-running experimental, genre-bending DIY punk band that started in Portland, Oregon in 2007. Their critically acclaimed 2012 concept album God, Forgive These Bastards is about the rise and fall of a fictional baseball player, featuring the hit song, “I Love You Like an Alcoholic”. It was released alongside a book of the same name written by Rob Taxpayer. The story was turned into a musical stage production by the Hum’n’bards Theater Troupe in 2018. After a several year hiatus, The Taxpayers have been selling out shows across the United States, headlining festivals in Australia, and are now set to release their first full-length album in 8 years, titled “Circle Breaker”, in conjunction with the boundary-defying Ernest Jenning Record Company.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The Austin, TX-based singer-songwriter—whose decades-long career has seen six full-length studio albums, three EPs, countless collaborations, and an illustrious supergroup project in Glorietta—spent a season of rest away from his focus on writing songs. In the wake of the end of a long relationship, he wanted to prioritize processing his grief as a human, not as an artist bleeding on the page. “I love all the records I’ve made in the past. But in making them, there was always the thought in the back of my mind of where and what it could get me. I made both creative and business decisions with a goal in mind... a goal that often never came. This time it was all about just the joy of making it, about having fun with it.”

Sagacious reggae lyricist Vaughn Benjamin’s words are particularly cutting during Sow And The Reap, the final recording of Vaughns immense catalog of works with I Grade Records. Produced by Zion I Kings, and taken from 2021’s album Polarities, Sow And The Reap folds topics of political dominance, mass migration, and injustice into a thought provokingly coherent whole. The song brims with Vaughn’s characteristic dual-meaning word-play, using evocative metaphors of nature and agriculture to illuminate global policy. Sow And The Reap’s timeless lyrical principles are matched by its inexorable reggae rhythm, featuring hefty programmed drums by Romain “Teflon Zincfence” Arnett, and sombre trombone and space age synth, both supplied by much missed multi-instrumentalist Drew Keys. Backed by its correspondingly haunting dub.

This series honours both the vocal and version culture of the reggae sound system and the profound lyricism of Vaughn Benjamin. We have consistently received two requests in relation to releasing the LPs: "Can we have dub versions?" and "Where can we read the lyrics?" Our response is the 'Akae Beka - vocal, version and word-sound collection.' Before Zero Records worked with Tippy I Grade to mix a series of dub mixes from a carefully curated selection of his extensive works with Vaughn Benjamin. The vocal and corresponding dub mixes were then cut to wax by Lewis Hopkin of Star Delta and wrapped in a collage made of Ras Marcus's artworks, which he crafted for various LP covers of Vaughn's works throughout the years with the lyrics transcribed and printed on the rear of each sleeve.

Repressed for the first time in 2 years, Note price change. Sermonizing Black Nationalism, Pan-Africanism and the benefits of a healthy and just lifestyle during the height of the Bad Boy/Roc-AFella era of nihilistic excess in the late 90's, Dead Prez also signed to a major label (Loud/Columbia) despite leaning much more towards the burgeoning indie aesthetics of the day. But this was a good thing – using major label muscle to wake up righteous hip-hop fans who might have fallen asleep at the wheel. The group itself – consisting of MCs stic.man and M-1, who produced or co-produced most of the duo’s music – was formed in Tallahassee, Florida in the early 1990's.

By later that decade, the duo had started making significant waves, having their music heard on the soundtracks to “Soul In The Hole” and “Slam,” as well as appearing on albums by Big Pun and The Beatnuts. By 1998, they released their first official single, the serious, stark “Police State,” on Loud, appropriately brought to the label by Lord Jamar of Brand Nubian. After building a solid rep over the next two years with fiery live performances, in 2000 they unleashed their debut album, Let’s Get Free.

The album was a welcome return to provocative and often radically political rhetoric that hearkened back to hip-hop forebears including The Coup, Public Enemy and KRS-One (as well as poetic descendants like the Last Poets and Watts Prophets). Let’s Get Free was critically acclaimed and benefited from multiple singles, including the infectious, thick analog drive of “Hip-Hop” “It’s Bigger Than Hip-Hop,” with a remix co-produced by a young Kanye West; “Mind Sex” (with Abiodun Oyewole of the Last Poets); and the poignant “I’m An African.”

But the singles weren’t the only worthy songs, as just about every cut here has deeper meaning than most full albums by their early 2000's peers. Highlights: the thought-provoking, anti-drug album opener “Wolves”; “We Want Freedom” “They Schools” and “Propaganda” . All in all, this is one of the more underrated and possibly Top 5 fully-realized political hip-hop albums of all time.