Поиск:vegas house

Future Utopia's sophomore album. Future Utopia 'Django's High'

1973 was an amazing year for the pop/rock duo Hall & Oates as they ushered their superstardom further with the incredible second album masterpiece Abandoned Luncheonette.

Produced by the great Arif Mardin, this nine-song album fused with classic Philly soul, rock and acoustic pop anthems delivered in a big way for the history making duo. Including the huge hit single "She's Gone," as well as the celebrated title track, Abandoned Lunchonette was a watershed album which has rewarded them with non-stop success for the past four decades.

Abandoned Luncheonette is the most commercially successful of the duo's Atlantic Records period; the album reached No. 33 on the Billboard Top LPs & Tapes chart. Twenty-nine years after its release, the album was certified platinum (over one million copies sold) by the Recording Industry Association of America (RIAA).

This top-notch Analogue Productions reissue is pressed at Quality Record Pressings, and housed in tip-on old style gatefold double pocket jackets with film lamination by Stoughton Printing.

DIY scene in San Jose, CA. Saoirse, Thomas, Chris and Jeremy are four best friends that spent their formative years together in a house called Hotbox. They are in­uenced by 90s power pop, jangly UK twee, Lorena's Taqueria, Ono Hawaiian BBQ, South Bay hardcore, 4th street bowl, skramz, road trips, J Mascis, and the feeling of sitting in a dirty backyard with your homies on a beautiful day. Star 99 makes music for their friends. “The 26-minute LP whips by and feels like a trip back to the indie-punk era of bands like Lemuria and Swearin’, with great hooks and a scrappy, lo-‑ aesthetic

We have a very special release planned for Record Store Day 2024, marking the 30th anniversary of Patrick Prins seminal Le Voie Le Soleil, we welcome back Solardo with their hands in the air rework of the timeless House classic plus a very special re-flex from the main man himself, Patrick Prins who steps up with a fresh new version completely exclusive to the vinyl package!

This release punctuates the meteoric and exponential rise of Solardo, a UK dance duo that have graced the stages of Glastonbury, Tomorrowland, EDC Las Vegas, Ultra Music Festival Miami, Creamfields, and Parklife.

The track has garnered huge DJ support from the likes of Calvin Harris, Sasha, MistaJam and more and looks to soundtrack many a euphoric dance floor moment.

With a heavy legacy on the original to lean on with Patrick Prins, Solardo’s deftly and authentically handled remix is guaranteed to revitalise this absolute club classic and reintroduce legions of dance music fans, old and new, to the soaring sonics of the original track.


Radio plays on Radio 1 from Danny Howard, Sarah Storie, Pete Tong
Other notable radio plays – Capital FM, Kiss FM, Toolroom Radio, Sirius XM, Data Transmission Radio, Radio 1 Dance Anthems, Radio 1 Party Anthems, Rinse FM, Select Radio, Tomorrowland Radio.

HEAVY TEMPLE sind zurück - von einer ausgiebigen Tournee durch die USA und zum ersten Mal auch durch Europa. Sie sind aber auch zurück aus dem Proberaum, wo das Schmieden neuer Songs viel mehr aus der ganzen Gruppe kam, als es auf dem Debütalbum der Fall war. Und schließlich sind sie zurück aus dem Animal Farm Studio, wo John Forrestal dem neuen Album "Garden of Heathens" einen reichen und warmen, organischen Sound verpasst hat, der gleichzeitig aber auch knackig frisch und kristallklar rüberkommt. Während das Debütalbum "Lupi Amoris" noch wie ein wildes Mastodon heran stürmte, wirkt "Garden of Heathens" abwechslungsreicher und deutlich ausgefeilter - jedoch ohne an Wucht oder Härte zu verlieren. Obwohl die kraftvolle Stimme von Frontfrau High Priestess Nighthawk weiterhin für eine starke Anziehungskraft sorgt, stehen bei HEAVY TEMPLE immer die Gitarrenriffs im Vordergrund. Dabei hat das Trio aus Philadelphia, Pennsylvania seinen Fahrplan nochmals erweitert und fährt eine große Zahl von Rock- und Metal-Stationen an, die von BARONESS über THE BEATLES und von BLACK SABBATH bis FU MANCHU reichen - mit allerlei Weichen dazwischen. Inhaltlich ist "Garden of Heathens" sehr persönlich ausgefallen. Sängerin Nighthawk schrieb ihre bisher persönlichsten Zeilen, die sich thematisch um Dinge drehen, die nicht real sind - vom amerikanischen Traum bis hin zu Beziehungen. Egal wie glänzend eine Sache auch aussehen mag, lauern unter der Oberfläche oft genug Ängste, Verrat und Zweifel. HEAVY TEMPLE entstand zur Wintersonnenwende 2012 in einer Nacht der puren Freude am Erschaffen und Spielen harter Musik. Kaum war die Band gegründet, ging es auch schon auf die Bühne: erst lokal und bald auch auf Tour mit so bekannten Szenegrößen wie RUBY THE HATCHET, ROYAL THUNDER und CORROSION OF CONFORMITY. Auch auf namhaften Festivals wie dem Maryland Doom Fest und dem Psycho Las Vegas und vielen anderen war das Trio bald zu finden. Nach den beiden EPs "Heavy Temple" (2014) und "Chassit" (2016) und einer Reihe von Singles nahmen sich HEAVY TEMPLE eine Auszeit vom ausgiebigen Touren, um endlich ihren ersten Langspieler aufzunehmen. "Lupi Amoris" ("Wölfe der Liebe"), wurde im Jahr 2021 unter großem Beifall sowohl von Anhängern als auch Kritikern veröffentlicht. Das Album öffnete den Amerikanern neue Türen: weitere Festivalauftritte, eine US-Tour mit THE OBSESSED und die erste Europatournee mit ihren Freunden und Label-Kameraden HOWLING GIANT. HEAVY TEMPLE sind nicht nur zurück, sondern gekommen, um zu bleiben. "Garden of Heathens" legt ein starkes Zeugnis für den hart arbeitenden Dreier ab, der sein Spektrum stetig erweitert und alle Hindernisse aus dem Weg räumt. "Garden of Heathens" wirft ein neues Licht auf Heavy und Desert Rock, Psychedelia und Doom Metal. Hört es euch an!

HEAVY TEMPLE sind zurück - von einer ausgiebigen Tournee durch die USA und zum ersten Mal auch durch Europa. Sie sind aber auch zurück aus dem Proberaum, wo das Schmieden neuer Songs viel mehr aus der ganzen Gruppe kam, als es auf dem Debütalbum der Fall war. Und schließlich sind sie zurück aus dem Animal Farm Studio, wo John Forrestal dem neuen Album "Garden of Heathens" einen reichen und warmen, organischen Sound verpasst hat, der gleichzeitig aber auch knackig frisch und kristallklar rüberkommt. Während das Debütalbum "Lupi Amoris" noch wie ein wildes Mastodon heran stürmte, wirkt "Garden of Heathens" abwechslungsreicher und deutlich ausgefeilter - jedoch ohne an Wucht oder Härte zu verlieren. Obwohl die kraftvolle Stimme von Frontfrau High Priestess Nighthawk weiterhin für eine starke Anziehungskraft sorgt, stehen bei HEAVY TEMPLE immer die Gitarrenriffs im Vordergrund. Dabei hat das Trio aus Philadelphia, Pennsylvania seinen Fahrplan nochmals erweitert und fährt eine große Zahl von Rock- und Metal-Stationen an, die von BARONESS über THE BEATLES und von BLACK SABBATH bis FU MANCHU reichen - mit allerlei Weichen dazwischen. Inhaltlich ist "Garden of Heathens" sehr persönlich ausgefallen. Sängerin Nighthawk schrieb ihre bisher persönlichsten Zeilen, die sich thematisch um Dinge drehen, die nicht real sind - vom amerikanischen Traum bis hin zu Beziehungen. Egal wie glänzend eine Sache auch aussehen mag, lauern unter der Oberfläche oft genug Ängste, Verrat und Zweifel. HEAVY TEMPLE entstand zur Wintersonnenwende 2012 in einer Nacht der puren Freude am Erschaffen und Spielen harter Musik. Kaum war die Band gegründet, ging es auch schon auf die Bühne: erst lokal und bald auch auf Tour mit so bekannten Szenegrößen wie RUBY THE HATCHET, ROYAL THUNDER und CORROSION OF CONFORMITY. Auch auf namhaften Festivals wie dem Maryland Doom Fest und dem Psycho Las Vegas und vielen anderen war das Trio bald zu finden. Nach den beiden EPs "Heavy Temple" (2014) und "Chassit" (2016) und einer Reihe von Singles nahmen sich HEAVY TEMPLE eine Auszeit vom ausgiebigen Touren, um endlich ihren ersten Langspieler aufzunehmen. "Lupi Amoris" ("Wölfe der Liebe"), wurde im Jahr 2021 unter großem Beifall sowohl von Anhängern als auch Kritikern veröffentlicht. Das Album öffnete den Amerikanern neue Türen: weitere Festivalauftritte, eine US-Tour mit THE OBSESSED und die erste Europatournee mit ihren Freunden und Label-Kameraden HOWLING GIANT. HEAVY TEMPLE sind nicht nur zurück, sondern gekommen, um zu bleiben. "Garden of Heathens" legt ein starkes Zeugnis für den hart arbeitenden Dreier ab, der sein Spektrum stetig erweitert und alle Hindernisse aus dem Weg räumt. "Garden of Heathens" wirft ein neues Licht auf Heavy und Desert Rock, Psychedelia und Doom Metal. Hört es euch an!

- Newly Expanded Deluxe Double LP Edition! - Includes the original 1972 album, plus all of Larry Mark's acoustic demos and tracks from his unreleased 1970 LHI LP for the first time on vinyl - Previously unreleased session outtake of "Cold Hard Times" plus demos of obscure Hazlewood compositions "Drums," "The - Start," "Susie," "Miracle on 19th Street," and "Peppermint Morning" - 30 total tracks - Remastered by GRAMMYr-nominated mastering engineer John Baldwin - Liner notes by GRAMMYr-nominated reissue producer Hunter Lea including interviews with Larry Marks, Joe Cannon, Torbjörn Axelman & Suzi Jane Hokom - Lee Hazlewood comic strip, the story of 13 told through original artwork by Jess Rotter - Double LP housed in a gatefold jacket // DESCRIPTION "Pimps_ whores_ pushers_ dopers_ gangsters_ and bottom of the human chain shit-heels. Now you're probably thinking I'm writing about major record companies and their unscrupulous executives_ and lawyers. You could be right_ but this time_ YOU'RE WRONG! I'm describing the characters in my album `13' _Some I knew_ some I invented _ some are true_ some are false_ some I liked_ some I didn't. But they all had a story to tell and I told it_none of `em seem to care_ and I don't either_ have fun_" - Lee Hazlewood "He (Lee) took my voice off the album and put his voice on the album. Now don't forget these were in my keys, it was my charts, it was my everything. Lee Hazlewood was not even remotely going to be considered as an artist for this album and that's the way he wanted it." - Larry Marks The album 13 was never supposed to be a Lee Hazlewood album. It is perhaps the strangest record in one of the most varied discographies in music. The Bombastic brass heavy funk, deep blues and soul paired with Hazlewood's subterranean baritone would be best enjoyed with a tall Chivas in an off-strip seedy Vegas lounge. By 1972 Lee Hazlewood had settled in his new homeland of Sweden. His days were spent carousing, making movies with Torbjörn Axelman and releasing albums. To keep up his prolific recorded output, Lee began to mine the recently defunct LHI Records archives for material. One such gem, was an unreleased album by Larry Marks (LHI producer, artist and the voice of the first Scooby-Doo theme). Larry's concept was to take Hazlewood's strongest compositions and arrange them in a soul vibe. An album was completed, but with no distribution in America and no funding, Lee had no vehicle to release Larry's record. The tapes were taken to Sweden, Larry's voice was wiped and Hazlewood's was dubbed_ 13 was born.

Big Thief's music, rooted in the songs of Adrianne Lenker, paints in vivid tones "the process of harnessing pain, loss, and love, while simultaneously letting go, looking into your own eyes through someone else's, and being okay with the inevitability of death," says Adrianne.

Masterpiece, Big Thief's debut album, is -lled with characters and visceral narratives, songs that pivot in the space of a few words. Adrianne's voice and guitar playing speak of rich emotional territory with grace and insight. In her words, the record tracks "the masterpiece of existence, which is always folding into itself, people attempting to connect, to both shake themselves awake and to shake o­ the numbness of certain points in their life. The interpretations might be impressionistic or surrealistic, but they're grounded in simple things.'

Adrianne met her longtime musical partner, guitarist and singer, Buck Meek, in Brooklyn a few years ago, and they quickly formed a creative bond tempered by the experience of traveling and performing for months on end in old dive bars, yards, barns, and basements together. They recorded a pair of duo albums (A-Sides and B-Sides), and Adrianne showcased her songs on a solo album, Hours Were The Birds.

Now, as a full rock and roll band, with Buck on guitar, Max Oleartchik on bass, and James Krivchenia on drums, they bring a steady wildness, giving the songs an even deeper layer of nostalgia. "These guys feel like a pack of wolves at my back," says Adrianne, "they make the songs howl and bark with a fierce tenderness that gives me courage."
After spending last July in an old house that they turned into a studio on Lake Champlain with producer Andrew Sarlo, the resulting collection soars on what Big Thief fan Sharon Van Etten calls "...a real journey, with intelligent stories and twist-and-turn melodies.

• Following on from the highly successful first two editions
of Dance Masters featuring the classics mixes from
maestros Shep Pettibone and Arthur Baker the spotlight
turns to another remix legend, John Luongo.
• Boston born, John is one of the truly legendary DJ's and
remixers of the Disco era. John got his break at Epic by
overdubbing percussion from salt shakers and spoons
onto a promo and then passing them back the tape. This
resulted in him being flown to New York, and put in a
studio (of his choice) to mix and produce Melba Moore`s
“You Stepped Into My Life”. From this point everything he
touched was a hit. He went onto remix Disco classics by
Jackie Moore – “This Time Baby”, Dan Hartman “Vertigo
/ Relight My Fire” and Patti Labelle “Music Is My Way Of
Life”.

• John, however was not afraid of remixing artists that
didn’t fit into the disco genre and this attitude is borne out
by the tracklisting of this compilation on which Gladys
Knight and The Pips rub shoulders with ZZ Top and Billy
Idol, and Baltimora appears alongside Bill Nelson and ILevel.
• “…if you played this whole thing, just put it on and
didn’t tell anyone it was me, they’d say ‘boy, what a great
group of songs this is!’” - John Luongo
• The collection is housed in a beautiful lift-off-lid box, with
a 16 page booklet featuring foreword by Arthur Baker, an
in-depth essay written by Alexis Petridis (Rock and Pop
reviewer for The Guardian) and complete with rare photos
from John’s personal collection plus a limited signed insert.

• All tracks remastered by Nick Robbins at Sound
Mastering.
• A 43-track 4CD edition is also available, along with a 2LP
vinyl edition featuring 16 highlights.

There are still some pearls of dance music from the late 80's to early 90's that have remained in obscurity and have gone unnoticed or at least there has been no special attention, so Jose Manuel has dug deep as he already did in the first chapter of the compilation " Milagros del Ritmo ".

Among the annals of releases between '89 and '93 Jose has found pearls that he wanted to encapsulate in the second chapter of " Milagros Del Ritmo II ".

Nine tracks among which we find : Come To Me (Ven Aqui) by La Luna produced by Erik Kupper, where percussion and Latin influences dominate over a house beat, then there is Teknology by Dj Raffa, a well known Brazilian Dj, followed by Lorena with Tu Eres Igual Que Los Demás (De Luxe Dub), where the beat vaguely recalls Los Niños Del Parque by Liaisons Dangereuses.
This second volume of "Milagros Del Rirmo II " cannot be missed by DJs who love and play the retro sound.

From Elvis in Memphis retains the distinction of being the most cohesive, passionate, mature, and emotionally invested record Elvis Presley ever made. Named one of the 500 Greatest Albums of All Time by Rolling Stone, the white-soul landmark features backing by "The "Memphis Boys" and teems with rhythm-heavy country, gospel, R&B, and blues. Lauded for its natural, open sonics, the 1969 set now comes across with remarkable clarity, presence, and warmth courtesy of a premium restoration befitting a king.

Mastered from the original master tapes, pressed on MoFi SuperVinyl at RTI, and strictly limited to 10,000 numbered copies, Mobile Fidelity's UltraDisc One-Step 180g 45RPM 2LP box set of From Elvis in Memphis unearths the ravishing inner detail, sticky rhythms, and brilliant arrangements of Chips Moman's inspired production. In short, this unparalleled reissue unlocks the spirit and gestalt of the recording and takes you inside American Sound Studio. It also brings you up close and personal with Presley's singing – widely considered by many to represent the finest of his career – located dead-centre amidst the instrumental hurricane. Equally impressive are the contributions of the aforementioned Boys, and how their Southern-brewed playing – a balance of leisure with swiftness, grandiosity with concision, freedom with control – dovetails with Presley's vernacular.

The lavish packaging and gorgeous presentation of the UD1S From Elvis in Memphis pressing befit its extremely select status. Housed in a deluxe box, it features special foil-stamped jackets and faithful-to-the-original graphics that illuminate the splendor of the recording. No expense has been spared. Aurally and visually, this UD1S reissue exists as a curatorial artifact meant to be preserved, pored over, touched, and examined. It is made for discerning listeners that prize sound quality and production, and who desire to fully immerse themselves in the art – and everything involved with the album, from the images to the finishes.

Sharing much in common with the full, rich, orchestrated Stax Records sound, From Elvis in Memphis oozes with choice nuances and distinctive flourishes that on this ultra-hi-fi edition not only arise with previously unheard transparency and sharpness, but complement and serve the whole. Take the specific tonalities and blending of violas, cellos, and horns that communicate mood and serve as counterpoints. Or lively performances of the backing quintet, and how the piano and Hammond organ trace the lines of the melodies and Presley's lead. Listen to the uplifting support provided by the cadre of backing vocalists (more than a dozen credited), unrivalled in Presley's canon and a precursor to the approach he'd soon adopt in Las Vegas.

Of course, From Elvis in Memphis precedes the icon's transition into his glitzy jumpsuit phase – and follows his merciful move away from the hoary soundtrack work that consumed nearly a decade of his creative life and prompted a rebirth that began in 1968. As the bridge between eras, the record seizes on Presley's rejuvenated attitude and commitment to quality, facets that drip from the fervency with which he delivers every word. For the same reasons, and for the fact it traces back to Presley's original roots and hip-shaking guise, the album further remains a cornerstone of American music history.

Writing about the work's 40th anniversary for Rolling Stone, James Hunter correctly observed: "From Elvis in Memphis represented the full-on immersion in the Memphis idea of Elvis Presley, the American singer second only to Frank Sinatra for the ability to conjure a particular sonic universe with his merest vocal utterance. And from the album's first song, in which a bluesy Elvis espies a woman 'Wearin' That Loved On Look,' to its last, in which a more straight-up-pop Elvis regrets the injustices of life 'In the Ghetto,' his fully engaged, newly energized voice finds its most logical album setting in years."

Incredibly, Presley and company completed more than two dozen cuts for From Elvis in Memphis. One, "Suspicious Minds," turned into the vocalist's final chart-topping single and lingers as one of his most beloved rock n' roll numbers. Even though it never formally appeared on the record, the non-album song is included here as a bonus track and attains newfound depth, energy, and swagger. Coupled with the other dozen tracks – including the sultry "Power of My Love," balladic take of Dallas Frazier's "True Love Travels on a Gravel Road," and driving cover of Hank Snow's I'm Moving On" – it makes for the finest Elvis listening experience available.

Bedouin aka Tamer Malki and Rami Abousabe are to release their long awaited and adventurous debut album Temple of Dreams on their own label Human By Default this Spring.

Over the course of the pandemic, Malki and Abousabe spent a great amount of time finalizing songs created in the past 7 years, composing, song writing, singing, and working on numerous projects including collaborations and new originals. Temple of Dreams was shaped from these sessions and captures the enigmatic sound of the versatile, forward-thinking group.

Malki explains that the album looks to “experiment and push the boundaries.” It differs from their previous work, as the album is intended to be a deep listening experience for the fans, rather than a slew of club cuts. The multi-talented artists sought to create a timeless sound in Temple of Dreams. Malki outlines that the album lies between “what we play on stages around the world and what we’re capable of writing and producing as musicians and producers. We wanted to exceed expectations and present something that you might think or feel you’ve heard before, yet it's something completely new and not what might be expected from us.”

It starts with the enchanting sounds and candle lit grooves of Rise And Fall then journeys far and wide through the Eastern string sounds of Coldman featuring Nathan Daisy, darkly alluring vocals and mystic rhythms of Voices In My Head and the hypnotic melodic leads of Crazy feat. Iveta Mukuchyan. Elsewhere the richness of Bedouin's sound makes for spellbinding listening on tracks like Hokema Feat. Delaram and Flore Chico feat. Chico Castillo with its alluring Spanish vocals. Love And Hate is a more dynamic and punchier house cut while Fill The Space is an intriguing mix of melodic magic, authentic instrumentation and smooth rolling grooves.

The musicians, singer-songwriters, and producers in Bedouin have spent the better part of a decade fine-tuning their sound, which draws as much from their Middle Eastern heritage as it does their world travels as DJs playing iconic venues across the globe. They have pioneered a distinctive and timeless sound on some of the world’s most notable labels such as Crosstown Rebels, Get Physical, All Day I Dream, and recently their own imprint—Human By Default.

Select major label releases include remixes for Black Coffee and Virgil Abloh on Ultra and Sony/Universal and as well as calling Burning Man home they have their own iconic Ibiza party, Saga, at Pacha each week of summer, and play major events such as Coachella, Tomorrowland, and Art Basel and venues like Ushuaïa, Wynn Las Vegas as well as a ground-breaking Cercle set filmed in Petra, Jordan.

This much anticipated debut album shows yet another side and the artistic development for this influential pair.

Four of DFTD’s latest releases have arrived on wax for the very first time. The A-side begins with Darius Syrossian & George Smeddles’ collaboration ‘Back In The Dance’. This uplifting dancefloor-ready groove with ‘90s influences marked a solid return to the floor after a long lockdown, and quickly became a favourite of top selectors. Next up on the A-side is the Transcriptions Mix of youANDme’s raw DFTD debut: ‘Moment’. Released in collaboration with Georgian singer-songwriter Kristina Sheli, this record cemented their status as contemporary powerhouses of the Berlin club scene. The B-side opens with OFFAIAH’s ‘Up All Night’, a fiery track that makes the perfect addition to any house set; the Las Vegas based artist continues to demonstrate his taste for catchy hooks and intense builds. The B-side continues with a record that has consistently dominated dancefloors throughout summer ’22, Marco Faraone’s powered-up remix of R.E.A.D’s ‘Where’s My Phone?’ featuring Sailor Jane, which closes out the package.

As the sun sets on a quaint East Nashville house, a young man bares a piece of his soul. Facing the camera, sporting a silky suit jacket/shirt/slacks/fingerless gloves ensemble that announces "singer" before he's even opened his mouth, Lee Tracy Johnson settles onto his stage, the front yard. He sways to the dirge-like drum machine pulse of a synth-soaked slow jam, extends his arms as if gaining his balance, and croons in affecting, fragile earnest, "I need your love… oh baby…"

Dogs in the yard next door begin barking. A mysterious cardboard robot figure, beamed in from galaxies unknown and affixed to a tree, is less vocal. Lee doesn't acknowledge either's presence. He's busy feeling it, arms and hands gesticulating. His voice rises in falsetto over the now-quiet dogs, over the ambient noise from the street that seeps into the handheld camcorder's microphone, over the recording of his own voice played back from a boombox off-camera. After six minutes the single, continuous shot ends. In this intimate creative universe there are no re-takes. There are many more music videos to shoot, and as Lee later puts it, "The first time you do it is actually the best. Because you can never get that again. You expressing yourself from within."

"I Need Your Love" dates from a lost heyday. From some time in the '80s or early '90s, when Lee Tracy (as he was known in performance) and his music partner/producer/manager Isaac Manning committed hours upon hours of their sonic and visual ideas to tape. Embracing drum machines and synthesizers – electronics that made their personal futurism palpable – they recorded exclusively at home, live in a room into a simple cassette deck. Soul, funk, electro and new wave informed their songs, yet Lee and Isaac eschewed the confinement of conventional categories and genres, preferring to let experimentation guide them.

"Anytime somebody put out a new record they had the same instruments or the same sound," explains Isaac. "So I basically wanted to find something that's really gonna stand out away from all of the rest of 'em." Their ethos meant that every idea they came up with was at least worth trying: echoed out half-rapped exhortations over frantic techno-style beats, gospel synth soul, modal electro-funk, oddball pop reinterpretations, emo AOR balladry, nods to Prince and the Fat Boys, or arrangements that might collapse mid-song into a mess of arcade game-ish blips before rallying to reach the finish line. All of it conjoined by consistent tape hiss, and most vitally, Lee's chameleonic voice, which managed to wildly shape shift and still evoke something sincere – whether toggling between falsetto and tenor exalting Jesus's return, or punctuating a melismatic romantic adlib with a succinct, "We all know how it feels to be alone."

"People think we went to a studio," says Isaac derisively. "We never went to no studio. We didn't have the money to go to no studio! We did this stuff at home. I shot videos in my front yard with whatever we could to get things together." Sometimes Isaac would just put on an instrumental record, be it "Planet Rock" or "Don't Cry For Me Argentina" (from Evita), press "record," and let Lee improvise over it, yielding peculiar love songs, would-be patriotic anthems, or Elvis Presley or Marilyn Monroe tributes. Technical limitations and a lack of professional polish never dissuaded them. They believed they were onto something.

"That struggle," Isaac says, "made that sound sound good to me."

In the parlance of modern music criticism Lee and Isaac's dizzying DIY efforts would inevitably be described as "outsider." But "outsider" carries the burden of untold additional layers of meaning if you're Black and from the South, creating on a budget, and trying to get someone, anyone within the country music capital of the world to take your vision seriously. "What category should we put it in?" Isaac asks rhetorically. "I don't know. All I know is feeling. I ain't gonna name it nothing. It's music. If it grabs your soul and touch your heart that's what it basically is supposed to do."

=

Born in 1963, the baby boy of nine siblings, Lee Tracy spent his earliest years living amidst the shotgun houses on Nashville's south side. "We was poor, man!" he says, recalling the outhouse his family used for a bathroom and the blocks of ice they kept in the kitchen to chill perishables. "But I actually don't think I really realized I was in poverty until I got grown and started thinking about it." Lee's mom worked at the Holiday Inn; his dad did whatever he had to do, from selling fruit from a horse drawn cart to bootlegging. "We didn't have much," Lee continues, "but my mother and my father got us the things we needed, the clothes on our back." By the end of the decade with the city's urban renewal programs razing entire neighborhoods to accommodate construction of the Interstate, the family moved to Edgehill Projects. Lee remembers music and art as a constant source of inspiration for he and his brothers and sisters – especially after seeing the Jackson 5 perform on Ed Sullivan. "As a small child I just knew that was what I wanted to do."

His older brother Don began musically mentoring him, introducing Lee to a variety of instruments and sounds. "He would never play one particular type of music, like R&B," says Lee. "I was surrounded by jazz, hard rock and roll, easy listening, gospel, reggae, country music; I mean I was a sponge absorbing all of that." Lee taught himself to play drums by beating on cardboard boxes, gaining a rep around the way for his timekeeping, and his singing voice. Emulating his favorites, Earth Wind & Fire and Cameo, he formed groups with other kids with era-evocative band names like Concept and TNT Connection, and emerged as the leader of disciplined rehearsals. "I made them practice," says Lee. "We practiced and practiced and practiced. Because I wanted that perfection." By high school the most accomplished of these bands would take top prize in a prominent local talent show. It was a big moment for Lee, and he felt ready to take things to the next level. But his band-mates had other ideas.

"I don't know what happened," he says, still miffed at the memory. "It must have blew they mind after we won and people started showing notice, because it's like everybody quit! I was like, where the hell did everybody go?" Lee had always made a point of interrogating prospective musicians about their intentions before joining his groups: were they really serious or just looking for a way to pick up girls? Now he understood even more the importance of finding a collaborator just as committed to the music as he was.

=

Isaac Manning had spent much of his life immersed in music and the arts – singing in the church choir with his family on Nashville's north side, writing, painting, dancing, and working various gigs within the entertainment industry. After serving in the armed forces, in the early '70s he ran The Teenage Place, a music and performance venue that catered to the local youth. But he was forced out of town when word of one of his recreational routines created a stir beyond the safe haven of his bohemian circles.

"I was growing marijuana," Isaac explains. "It wasn't no business, I was smoking it myself… I would put marijuana in scrambled eggs, cornbread and stuff." His weed use originated as a form of self-medication to combat severe tooth pain. But when he began sharing it with some of the other young people he hung out with, some of who just so happened to be the kids of Nashville politicians, the cops came calling. "When I got busted," he remembers, "they were talking about how they were gonna get rid of me because they didn't want me saying nothing about they children because of the politics and stuff. So I got my family, took two raggedy cars, and left Nashville and went to Vegas."

Out in the desert, Isaac happened to meet Chubby Checker of "The Twist" fame while the singer was gigging at The Flamingo. Impressed by Isaac's zeal, Checker invited him to go on the road with him as his tour manager/roadie/valet. The experience gave Isaac a window into a part of the entertainment world he'd never encountered – a glimpse of what a true pop act's audience looked like. "Chubby Checker, none of his shows were played for Black folks," he remembers. "All his gigs were done at high-class white people areas." Returning home after a few years with Chubby, Isaac was properly motivated to make it in Music City. He began writing songs and scouting around Nashville for local talent anywhere he could find it with an expressed goal: "Find someone who can deliver your songs the way you want 'em delivered and make people feel what you want them to feel."

One day while walking through Edgehill Projects Isaac heard someone playing the drums in a way that made him stop and take notice. "The music was so tight, just the drums made me feel like, oh I'm-a find this person," he recalls. "So I circled through the projects until I found who it was.

"That's how I met him – Lee Tracy. When I found him and he started singing and stuff, I said, ohhh, this is somebody different."

=

Theirs was a true complementary partnership: young Lee possessed the raw talent, the older Isaac the belief. "He's really the only one besides my brother and my family that really seen the potential in me," says Lee. "He made me see that I could do it."

Isaac long being a night owl, his house also made for a fertile collaborative environment – a space where there always seemed to be a new piece of his visual art on display: paintings, illustrations, and dolls and figures (including an enigmatic cardboard robot). Lee and Issac would hang out together and talk, listen to music, conjure ideas, and smoke the herb Isaac had resumed growing in his yard. "It got to where I could trust him, he could trust me," Isaac says of their bond. They also worked together for hours on drawings, spreading larges rolls of paper on the walls and sketching faces with abstract patterns and imagery: alien-like beings, tri-horned horse heads, inverted Janus-like characters where one visage blurred into the other.

Soon it became apparent that they didn't need other collaborators; self-sufficiency was the natural way forward. At Isaac's behest Lee, already fed up with dealing with band musicians, began playing around with a poly-sonic Yamaha keyboard at the local music store. "It had everything on it – trumpet, bass, drums, organ," remembers Lee. "And that's when I started recording my own stuff."

The technology afforded Lee the flexibility and independence he craved, setting him on a path other bedroom musicians and producers around the world were simultaneously following through the '80s into the early '90s. Saving up money from day jobs, he eventually supplemented the Yamaha Isaac had gotten him with Roland and Casio drum machines and a Moog. Lee was living in an apartment in Hillside at that point caring for his dad, who'd been partially paralyzed since early in life. In the evenings up in his second floor room, the music put him in a zone where he could tune out everything and lose himself in his ideas.

"Oh I loved it," he recalls. "I would really experiment with the instruments and use a lot of different sound effects. I was looking for something nobody else had. I wanted something totally different. And once I found the sound I was looking for, I would just smoke me a good joint and just let it go, hit the record button." More potent a creative stimulant than even Isaac's weed was the holistic flow and spontaneity of recording. Between sessions at Isaac's place and Lee's apartment, their volume of output quickly ballooned.

"We was always recording," says Lee. "That's why we have so much music. Even when I went to Isaac's and we start creating, I get home, my mind is racing, I gotta start creating, creating, creating. I remember there were times when I took a 90-minute tape from front to back and just filled it up."

"We never practiced," says Isaac. "See, that was just so odd about the whole thing. I could relate to him, and tell him about the songs I had ideas for and everything and stuff. And then he would bring it back or whatever, and we'd get together and put it down." Once the taskmaster hell bent on rehearsing, Lee had flipped a full 180. Perfection was no longer an aspiration, but the enemy of inspiration.

"I seen where practicing and practicing got me," says Lee. "A lot of musicians you get to playing and they gotta stop, they have to analyze the music. But while you analyzing you losing a lot of the greatness of what you creating. Stop analyzing what you play, just play! And it'll all take shape."

=

"I hope you understood the beginning of the record because this was invented from a dream I had today… (You tell me, I'll tell you, we'll figure it out together)" – Lee Tracy and Isaac Manning, "Hope You Understand"

Lee lets loose a maniacal cackle when he acknowledges that the material that he and Isaac recorded was by anyone's estimation pretty out there. It's the same laugh that commences "Hope You Understand" – a chaotic transmission that encapsulates the duality at the heart of their music: a stated desire to reach people and a compulsion to go as leftfield as they saw fit.

"We just did it," says Lee. "We cut the music on and cut loose. I don't sit around and write. I do it by listening, get a feeling, play the music, and the lyrics and stuff just come out of me."

The approach proved adaptable to interpreting other artists' material. While recording a cover of Whitney Houston's pop ballad "Saving All My Love For You," Lee played Whitney's version in his headphones as he laid down his own vocals – partially following the lyrics, partially using them as a departure point. The end result is barely recognizable compared with the original, Lee and Isaac having switched up the time signature and reinvented the melody along the way towards morphing a slick mainstream radio standard into something that sounds solely their own.

"I really used that song to get me started," says Lee. "Then I said, well I need something else, something is missing. Something just came over me. That's when I came up with 'Is It What You Want.'"

The song would become the centerpiece of Lee and Isaac's repertoire. Pushed along by a percolating metronomic Rhythm King style beat somewhere between a military march and a samba, "Is It What You Want" finds Lee pleading the sincerity of his commitment to a potential love interest embellished by vocal tics and hiccups subtlely reminiscent of his childhood hero MJ. Absent chord changes, only synth riffs gliding in and out like apparitions, the song achieves a lingering lo-fi power that leaves you feeling like it's still playing, somewhere, even after the fade out.

"I don't know, it's like a real spiritual song," Lee reflects. "But it's not just spiritual. To me the more I listen to it it's like about everything that you do in your everyday life, period. Is it what you want? Do you want a car or you don't want a car? Do you want Jesus or do you want the Devil? It's basically asking you the question. Can't nobody answer the question but you yourself."

In 1989 Lee won a lawsuit stemming from injuries sustained from a fight he'd gotten into. He took part of the settlement money and with Isaac pressed up "Saving All My Love For You" b/w "Is It What You Want" as a 45 single. Isaac christened the label One Chance Records. "Because that's all we wanted," he says with a laugh, "one chance."

Isaac sent the record out to radio stations and major labels, hoping for it to make enough noise to get picked up nationally. But the response he and Lee were hoping for never materialized. According to Isaac the closest the single got to getting played on the radio is when a disk jock from a local station made a highly unusual announcement on air: "The dude said on the radio, 107.5 – 'We are not gonna play 'Is It What You Want.' We cracked up! Wow, that's deep.

"It was a whole racist thing that was going on," he reflects. "So we just looked over and kept on going. That was it. That was about the way it goes… If you were Black and you were living in Nashville and stuff, that's the way you got treated." Isaac already knew as much from all the times he'd brought he and Lee's tapes (even their cache of country music tunes) over to Music Row to try to drum up interest to no avail.

"Isaac, he really worked his ass off," says Lee. "He probably been to every record place down on Music Row." Nashville's famed recording and music business corridor wasn't but a few blocks from where Lee grew up. Close enough, he remembers, for him to ride his bike along its back alleys and stumble upon the occasional random treasure, like a discarded box of harmonicas. Getting in through the front door, however, still felt a world away.

"I just don't think at the time our music fell into a category for them," he concedes. "It was before its time."

=

Lee stopped making music some time in the latter part of the '90s, around the time his mom passed away and life became increasingly tough to manage. "When my mother died I had a nervous breakdown," he says, "So I shut down for a long time. I was in such a sadness frame of mind. That's why nobody seen me. I had just disappeared off the map." He fell out of touch with Isaac, and in an indication of just how bad things had gotten for him, lost track of all the recordings they'd made together. Music became a distant memory.

Fortunately, Isaac kept the faith. In a self-published collection of his poetry – paeans to some of his favorite entertainment and public figures entitled Friends and Dick Clark – he'd written that he believed "music has a life of its own." But his prescience and presence of mind were truly manifested in the fact that he kept an archive of he and Lee's work. As perfectly imperfect as "Is It What You Want" now sounds in a post-Personal Space world, Lee and Isaac's lone official release was in fact just a taste. The bulk of the Is It What You Want album is culled from the pair's essentially unheard home recordings – complete songs, half-realized experiments, Isaac's blue monologues and pronouncements et al – compiled, mixed and programmed in the loose and impulsive creative spirit of their regular get-togethers from decades ago. The rest of us, it seems, may have finally caught up to them.

On the prospect of at long last reaching a wider audience, Isaac says simply, "I been trying for a long time, it feels good." Ever the survivor, he adds, "The only way I know how to make it to the top is to keep climbing. If one leg break on the ladder, hey, you gotta fix it and keep on going… That's where I be at. I'll kill death to make it out there."

For Lee it all feels akin to a personal resurrection: "It's like I was in a tomb and the tomb was opened and I'm back… Man, it feels so great. I feel like I'm gonna jump out of my skin." Success at this stage of his life, he realizes, probably means something different than what it did back when he was singing and dancing in Isaac's front yard. "What I really mean by 'making it,'" he explains isn't just the music being heard but, "the story being told."

Occasionally Lee will pull up "Is It What You Want" on YouTube on his phone, put on his headphones, and listen. He remembers the first time he heard his recorded voice. How surreal it was, how he thought to himself, "Is that really me?" What would he say to that younger version of himself now?

"I would probably tell myself, hang in there, don't give up. Keep striving for the goal. And everything will work out."

Despite what's printed on the record label, sometimes you do get more than one chance.

While so many follow the status quo, Mat Zo has always danced to the beat of his own drum. From his days topping both the drum & bass and trance charts simultaneously (releasing on Hospital Records as MRSA), to his current status as a big room innovator, collaborating with Public Enemy's Chuck D and dropping genre-blurring 70-track contributions to BBC Radio 1's Essential Mix, the precocious talent is destined to play by his own rules.

Supported by DJs as diverse as Skrillex, Madeon, Pete Tong, Above & Beyond, Steve Aoki and A-Trak, the LA-living producer's much anticipated debut LP 'Damage Control' is a bold, brilliantly diverse statement of intent from one of the scene's most unique talents. In a world of EDM sound a likes, this is electronic dance music with integrity and ambition. The release of the album will coincide with an extensive upcoming world headline tour, which sees Zo playing renowned dance music hubs such as Ministry of Sound in London, Light in Las Vegas, Create/Avalon in Los Angeles, Miami's LIV nightclub, Toronto's Guvernment and New York City's famed Pacha. (See full list of dates below).

The product of nearly three years dedicated work, 'Damage Control' represents a star of the future coming of age. Including his Beatport No.1 smash 'Easy' (feat. Porter Robinson) and recent hook-up with hip-hop legend Chuck D (Public Enemy) on 'Pyramid Scheme', Zo's 14-track LP also features the sun-soaked melodies of his innovative future single 'Lucid Dreams' - another track that perfectly embodies his uniquely quirky take on big room sounds.

What really sets the album apart from the pack are its diversions away from the dancefloor. 'Damage Control' takes in everything from electro-charged French house ('Only For You' feat. Rachel K. Collier), classy trance vibes ('The Sky' feat. Linnea Schossow) and big room progressive, through to wonky, trap-styled beats ('Caller ID' and 'Little Damage'), UK garage updates ('EZ') and hip-hop ('Moderate Stimulation').

Retaining a cohesive thread throughout thanks to Zo's unmistakable sense of fun and infectious grasp of melody, 'Damage Control' is tipped as one of the most forward-thinking debut artist albums of 2013.

As the sun sets on a quaint East Nashville house, a young man bares a piece of his soul. Facing the camera, sporting a silky suit jacket/shirt/slacks/fingerless gloves ensemble that announces "singer" before he's even opened his mouth, Lee Tracy Johnson settles onto his stage, the front yard. He sways to the dirge-like drum machine pulse of a synth-soaked slow jam, extends his arms as if gaining his balance, and croons in affecting, fragile earnest, "I need your love… oh baby…"

Dogs in the yard next door begin barking. A mysterious cardboard robot figure, beamed in from galaxies unknown and affixed to a tree, is less vocal. Lee doesn't acknowledge either's presence. He's busy feeling it, arms and hands gesticulating. His voice rises in falsetto over the now-quiet dogs, over the ambient noise from the street that seeps into the handheld camcorder's microphone, over the recording of his own voice played back from a boombox off-camera. After six minutes the single, continuous shot ends. In this intimate creative universe there are no re-takes. There are many more music videos to shoot, and as Lee later puts it, "The first time you do it is actually the best. Because you can never get that again. You expressing yourself from within."

"I Need Your Love" dates from a lost heyday. From some time in the '80s or early '90s, when Lee Tracy (as he was known in performance) and his music partner/producer/manager Isaac Manning committed hours upon hours of their sonic and visual ideas to tape. Embracing drum machines and synthesizers – electronics that made their personal futurism palpable – they recorded exclusively at home, live in a room into a simple cassette deck. Soul, funk, electro and new wave informed their songs, yet Lee and Isaac eschewed the confinement of conventional categories and genres, preferring to let experimentation guide them.

"Anytime somebody put out a new record they had the same instruments or the same sound," explains Isaac. "So I basically wanted to find something that's really gonna stand out away from all of the rest of 'em." Their ethos meant that every idea they came up with was at least worth trying: echoed out half-rapped exhortations over frantic techno-style beats, gospel synth soul, modal electro-funk, oddball pop reinterpretations, emo AOR balladry, nods to Prince and the Fat Boys, or arrangements that might collapse mid-song into a mess of arcade game-ish blips before rallying to reach the finish line. All of it conjoined by consistent tape hiss, and most vitally, Lee's chameleonic voice, which managed to wildly shape shift and still evoke something sincere – whether toggling between falsetto and tenor exalting Jesus's return, or punctuating a melismatic romantic adlib with a succinct, "We all know how it feels to be alone."

"People think we went to a studio," says Isaac derisively. "We never went to no studio. We didn't have the money to go to no studio! We did this stuff at home. I shot videos in my front yard with whatever we could to get things together." Sometimes Isaac would just put on an instrumental record, be it "Planet Rock" or "Don't Cry For Me Argentina" (from Evita), press "record," and let Lee improvise over it, yielding peculiar love songs, would-be patriotic anthems, or Elvis Presley or Marilyn Monroe tributes. Technical limitations and a lack of professional polish never dissuaded them. They believed they were onto something.

"That struggle," Isaac says, "made that sound sound good to me."

In the parlance of modern music criticism Lee and Isaac's dizzying DIY efforts would inevitably be described as "outsider." But "outsider" carries the burden of untold additional layers of meaning if you're Black and from the South, creating on a budget, and trying to get someone, anyone within the country music capital of the world to take your vision seriously. "What category should we put it in?" Isaac asks rhetorically. "I don't know. All I know is feeling. I ain't gonna name it nothing. It's music. If it grabs your soul and touch your heart that's what it basically is supposed to do."

=

Born in 1963, the baby boy of nine siblings, Lee Tracy spent his earliest years living amidst the shotgun houses on Nashville's south side. "We was poor, man!" he says, recalling the outhouse his family used for a bathroom and the blocks of ice they kept in the kitchen to chill perishables. "But I actually don't think I really realized I was in poverty until I got grown and started thinking about it." Lee's mom worked at the Holiday Inn; his dad did whatever he had to do, from selling fruit from a horse drawn cart to bootlegging. "We didn't have much," Lee continues, "but my mother and my father got us the things we needed, the clothes on our back." By the end of the decade with the city's urban renewal programs razing entire neighborhoods to accommodate construction of the Interstate, the family moved to Edgehill Projects. Lee remembers music and art as a constant source of inspiration for he and his brothers and sisters – especially after seeing the Jackson 5 perform on Ed Sullivan. "As a small child I just knew that was what I wanted to do."

His older brother Don began musically mentoring him, introducing Lee to a variety of instruments and sounds. "He would never play one particular type of music, like R&B," says Lee. "I was surrounded by jazz, hard rock and roll, easy listening, gospel, reggae, country music; I mean I was a sponge absorbing all of that." Lee taught himself to play drums by beating on cardboard boxes, gaining a rep around the way for his timekeeping, and his singing voice. Emulating his favorites, Earth Wind & Fire and Cameo, he formed groups with other kids with era-evocative band names like Concept and TNT Connection, and emerged as the leader of disciplined rehearsals. "I made them practice," says Lee. "We practiced and practiced and practiced. Because I wanted that perfection." By high school the most accomplished of these bands would take top prize in a prominent local talent show. It was a big moment for Lee, and he felt ready to take things to the next level. But his band-mates had other ideas.

"I don't know what happened," he says, still miffed at the memory. "It must have blew they mind after we won and people started showing notice, because it's like everybody quit! I was like, where the hell did everybody go?" Lee had always made a point of interrogating prospective musicians about their intentions before joining his groups: were they really serious or just looking for a way to pick up girls? Now he understood even more the importance of finding a collaborator just as committed to the music as he was.

=

Isaac Manning had spent much of his life immersed in music and the arts – singing in the church choir with his family on Nashville's north side, writing, painting, dancing, and working various gigs within the entertainment industry. After serving in the armed forces, in the early '70s he ran The Teenage Place, a music and performance venue that catered to the local youth. But he was forced out of town when word of one of his recreational routines created a stir beyond the safe haven of his bohemian circles.

"I was growing marijuana," Isaac explains. "It wasn't no business, I was smoking it myself… I would put marijuana in scrambled eggs, cornbread and stuff." His weed use originated as a form of self-medication to combat severe tooth pain. But when he began sharing it with some of the other young people he hung out with, some of who just so happened to be the kids of Nashville politicians, the cops came calling. "When I got busted," he remembers, "they were talking about how they were gonna get rid of me because they didn't want me saying nothing about they children because of the politics and stuff. So I got my family, took two raggedy cars, and left Nashville and went to Vegas."

Out in the desert, Isaac happened to meet Chubby Checker of "The Twist" fame while the singer was gigging at The Flamingo. Impressed by Isaac's zeal, Checker invited him to go on the road with him as his tour manager/roadie/valet. The experience gave Isaac a window into a part of the entertainment world he'd never encountered – a glimpse of what a true pop act's audience looked like. "Chubby Checker, none of his shows were played for Black folks," he remembers. "All his gigs were done at high-class white people areas." Returning home after a few years with Chubby, Isaac was properly motivated to make it in Music City. He began writing songs and scouting around Nashville for local talent anywhere he could find it with an expressed goal: "Find someone who can deliver your songs the way you want 'em delivered and make people feel what you want them to feel."

One day while walking through Edgehill Projects Isaac heard someone playing the drums in a way that made him stop and take notice. "The music was so tight, just the drums made me feel like, oh I'm-a find this person," he recalls. "So I circled through the projects until I found who it was.

"That's how I met him – Lee Tracy. When I found him and he started singing and stuff, I said, ohhh, this is somebody different."

=

Theirs was a true complementary partnership: young Lee possessed the raw talent, the older Isaac the belief. "He's really the only one besides my brother and my family that really seen the potential in me," says Lee. "He made me see that I could do it."

Isaac long being a night owl, his house also made for a fertile collaborative environment – a space where there always seemed to be a new piece of his visual art on display: paintings, illustrations, and dolls and figures (including an enigmatic cardboard robot). Lee and Issac would hang out together and talk, listen to music, conjure ideas, and smoke the herb Isaac had resumed growing in his yard. "It got to where I could trust him, he could trust me," Isaac says of their bond. They also worked together for hours on drawings, spreading larges rolls of paper on the walls and sketching faces with abstract patterns and imagery: alien-like beings, tri-horned horse heads, inverted Janus-like characters where one visage blurred into the other.

Soon it became apparent that they didn't need other collaborators; self-sufficiency was the natural way forward. At Isaac's behest Lee, already fed up with dealing with band musicians, began playing around with a poly-sonic Yamaha keyboard at the local music store. "It had everything on it – trumpet, bass, drums, organ," remembers Lee. "And that's when I started recording my own stuff."

The technology afforded Lee the flexibility and independence he craved, setting him on a path other bedroom musicians and producers around the world were simultaneously following through the '80s into the early '90s. Saving up money from day jobs, he eventually supplemented the Yamaha Isaac had gotten him with Roland and Casio drum machines and a Moog. Lee was living in an apartment in Hillside at that point caring for his dad, who'd been partially paralyzed since early in life. In the evenings up in his second floor room, the music put him in a zone where he could tune out everything and lose himself in his ideas.

"Oh I loved it," he recalls. "I would really experiment with the instruments and use a lot of different sound effects. I was looking for something nobody else had. I wanted something totally different. And once I found the sound I was looking for, I would just smoke me a good joint and just let it go, hit the record button." More potent a creative stimulant than even Isaac's weed was the holistic flow and spontaneity of recording. Between sessions at Isaac's place and Lee's apartment, their volume of output quickly ballooned.

"We was always recording," says Lee. "That's why we have so much music. Even when I went to Isaac's and we start creating, I get home, my mind is racing, I gotta start creating, creating, creating. I remember there were times when I took a 90-minute tape from front to back and just filled it up."

"We never practiced," says Isaac. "See, that was just so odd about the whole thing. I could relate to him, and tell him about the songs I had ideas for and everything and stuff. And then he would bring it back or whatever, and we'd get together and put it down." Once the taskmaster hell bent on rehearsing, Lee had flipped a full 180. Perfection was no longer an aspiration, but the enemy of inspiration.

"I seen where practicing and practicing got me," says Lee. "A lot of musicians you get to playing and they gotta stop, they have to analyze the music. But while you analyzing you losing a lot of the greatness of what you creating. Stop analyzing what you play, just play! And it'll all take shape."

=

"I hope you understood the beginning of the record because this was invented from a dream I had today… (You tell me, I'll tell you, we'll figure it out together)" – Lee Tracy and Isaac Manning, "Hope You Understand"

Lee lets loose a maniacal cackle when he acknowledges that the material that he and Isaac recorded was by anyone's estimation pretty out there. It's the same laugh that commences "Hope You Understand" – a chaotic transmission that encapsulates the duality at the heart of their music: a stated desire to reach people and a compulsion to go as leftfield as they saw fit.

"We just did it," says Lee. "We cut the music on and cut loose. I don't sit around and write. I do it by listening, get a feeling, play the music, and the lyrics and stuff just come out of me."

The approach proved adaptable to interpreting other artists' material. While recording a cover of Whitney Houston's pop ballad "Saving All My Love For You," Lee played Whitney's version in his headphones as he laid down his own vocals – partially following the lyrics, partially using them as a departure point. The end result is barely recognizable compared with the original, Lee and Isaac having switched up the time signature and reinvented the melody along the way towards morphing a slick mainstream radio standard into something that sounds solely their own.

"I really used that song to get me started," says Lee. "Then I said, well I need something else, something is missing. Something just came over me. That's when I came up with 'Is It What You Want.'"

The song would become the centerpiece of Lee and Isaac's repertoire. Pushed along by a percolating metronomic Rhythm King style beat somewhere between a military march and a samba, "Is It What You Want" finds Lee pleading the sincerity of his commitment to a potential love interest embellished by vocal tics and hiccups subtlely reminiscent of his childhood hero MJ. Absent chord changes, only synth riffs gliding in and out like apparitions, the song achieves a lingering lo-fi power that leaves you feeling like it's still playing, somewhere, even after the fade out.

"I don't know, it's like a real spiritual song," Lee reflects. "But it's not just spiritual. To me the more I listen to it it's like about everything that you do in your everyday life, period. Is it what you want? Do you want a car or you don't want a car? Do you want Jesus or do you want the Devil? It's basically asking you the question. Can't nobody answer the question but you yourself."

In 1989 Lee won a lawsuit stemming from injuries sustained from a fight he'd gotten into. He took part of the settlement money and with Isaac pressed up "Saving All My Love For You" b/w "Is It What You Want" as a 45 single. Isaac christened the label One Chance Records. "Because that's all we wanted," he says with a laugh, "one chance."

Isaac sent the record out to radio stations and major labels, hoping for it to make enough noise to get picked up nationally. But the response he and Lee were hoping for never materialized. According to Isaac the closest the single got to getting played on the radio is when a disk jock from a local station made a highly unusual announcement on air: "The dude said on the radio, 107.5 – 'We are not gonna play 'Is It What You Want.' We cracked up! Wow, that's deep.

"It was a whole racist thing that was going on," he reflects. "So we just looked over and kept on going. That was it. That was about the way it goes… If you were Black and you were living in Nashville and stuff, that's the way you got treated." Isaac already knew as much from all the times he'd brought he and Lee's tapes (even their cache of country music tunes) over to Music Row to try to drum up interest to no avail.

"Isaac, he really worked his ass off," says Lee. "He probably been to every record place down on Music Row." Nashville's famed recording and music business corridor wasn't but a few blocks from where Lee grew up. Close enough, he remembers, for him to ride his bike along its back alleys and stumble upon the occasional random treasure, like a discarded box of harmonicas. Getting in through the front door, however, still felt a world away.

"I just don't think at the time our music fell into a category for them," he concedes. "It was before its time."

=

Lee stopped making music some time in the latter part of the '90s, around the time his mom passed away and life became increasingly tough to manage. "When my mother died I had a nervous breakdown," he says, "So I shut down for a long time. I was in such a sadness frame of mind. That's why nobody seen me. I had just disappeared off the map." He fell out of touch with Isaac, and in an indication of just how bad things had gotten for him, lost track of all the recordings they'd made together. Music became a distant memory.

Fortunately, Isaac kept the faith. In a self-published collection of his poetry – paeans to some of his favorite entertainment and public figures entitled Friends and Dick Clark – he'd written that he believed "music has a life of its own." But his prescience and presence of mind were truly manifested in the fact that he kept an archive of he and Lee's work. As perfectly imperfect as "Is It What You Want" now sounds in a post-Personal Space world, Lee and Isaac's lone official release was in fact just a taste. The bulk of the Is It What You Want album is culled from the pair's essentially unheard home recordings – complete songs, half-realized experiments, Isaac's blue monologues and pronouncements et al – compiled, mixed and programmed in the loose and impulsive creative spirit of their regular get-togethers from decades ago. The rest of us, it seems, may have finally caught up to them.

On the prospect of at long last reaching a wider audience, Isaac says simply, "I been trying for a long time, it feels good." Ever the survivor, he adds, "The only way I know how to make it to the top is to keep climbing. If one leg break on the ladder, hey, you gotta fix it and keep on going… That's where I be at. I'll kill death to make it out there."

For Lee it all feels akin to a personal resurrection: "It's like I was in a tomb and the tomb was opened and I'm back… Man, it feels so great. I feel like I'm gonna jump out of my skin." Success at this stage of his life, he realizes, probably means something different than what it did back when he was singing and dancing in Isaac's front yard. "What I really mean by 'making it,'" he explains isn't just the music being heard but, "the story being told."

Occasionally Lee will pull up "Is It What You Want" on YouTube on his phone, put on his headphones, and listen. He remembers the first time he heard his recorded voice. How surreal it was, how he thought to himself, "Is that really me?" What would he say to that younger version of himself now?

"I would probably tell myself, hang in there, don't give up. Keep striving for the goal. And everything will work out."

Despite what's printed on the record label, sometimes you do get more than one chance.

Famous present their first vinyl release, a double EP comprising their lauded 2021 EP The Valley on side A, and their equally acclaimed 2019 debut England on side B. The Valley is an intense, engrossing body of work from a band firmly stepping into their own space, foregoing the easy route, whilst interrogating themselves and everything around them. References to Soundcloud rap stand side-by-side with Greek Tragician Euripedes, along with the white noise of endless Simpson’s repeats colliding with daydreams of settling down and one day owning a gilet. It’s both complex and accessible, the sound of a silver-lining appearing from a dark cloud. England presents a distinctively hyperbolic, mythic re-imagination of urban life; using theatricality and the emotional authority of art to navigate the chaos of anxiety. The music is, nonetheless, thoughtful and surprising, as shown by the six self- contained yet interconnected tracks that make the whole. Opener ‘England 2’ is a rumbling call to arms that ushers in the haywire ‘Surf’s Up!’. The heart of the record is the two-punch of tainted-pop cut ‘Forever’ and the skittish paranoia of ‘Jack’s House’. All that remains is the expansive, circling ‘2004’ before the most tender moment ‘My Crumpet’ closes the show. Famous live shows are intense brash affairs. Alternating between the pathetic showmanship of Vegas-era Elvis and the controlled experimentations of post punk, the band has built a reputation as one of the best live acts on the London underground circuit. Playing shows with Black Midi, Sports Team, Jockstrap and supporting Black Country, New Road on their full UK tour, Famous has undeniably placed itself at the centre of that new generation of English bands. 2022 sees the band playing major festival dates and venues across Europe, alongside supporting Los Bitchos on tour in France, in April.

The British shoegaze pop band Engineers was formed in London in
2003 by Mark Peters, Simon Phipps, Andrew Sweeney and Dan MacBean. MacBean is also known as the guitarist in The Shining. After being signed to Echo Records, the band released their self- titled debut album in 2005. The album features the acclaimed tracks “Home”, “Forgiveness” and “Waved On”. The latter was produced by Tim Holmes, who worked with The Chemical Brothers, Primal Scream and multiple albums for Death In Vegas.

Engineers is available as a limited edition of 1500 individually numbered copies on white coloured vinyl, housed in a gatefold sleeve.

They say the best thing for a new band to really find out who they are is to go out and play as much as possible. They see what works and what doesn’t with the crowd as well as watch their peers perform and can learn from the best. For the past 2 years, WORMWITCH, has done just that. Having toured North America with The Black Dahlia Murder, Numenorean and appeared at last year’s prestigious Psycho Las Vegas Festival with Danzig, Dimmu Borgir and many more, the Vancouver 3-piece took it all in and regrouped in the Fall of 2018 to start writing their new album. Heaven That Dwells Within is the follow up to 2016’s Decibel Magazine Year End charting, Strike Mortal Soil. The riffs are stronger, the overall feel the album darker and their love of black metal dimly shines through much more on their past release. The album was mixed and mastered by V. Santura (Triptykon, Schammasch), giving it that much of a gloomier touch. With a tour right out of the gate with Cloak and Uada followed by a European run, the future, though dark in music, can only be bright.

Lingering at the remains of a campfire before dawn, with the politics of the personal burnt into ash, running his stick through what’s left, Wand singer/guitarist Cory Hanson is reflecting on a series of moments in which he steps farther into himself, finding the ultimate big sky country on the inside of his skull. It’s a combination of songs and sounds that journey
through bleak and broken territory and places of sweet, lush remove and it adds up to the best record he’s been involved in yet: his second solo album, ‘Pale Horse Rider’.

 Cory’s first solo, ‘The Unborn Capitalist From Limbo’, was an intense affair, a grand experiment that produced inspiring,
nconventional music - but this time around, he wanted to breathe a bit easier, to feel that breath in the music as well. So he and his band drove out to the desert to record in a lowstress environment: Brian Harris’ Cactopia, a house surrounded by 6ft tall sculptural psychotropic cacti. They built a studio inside and then they made music and lived off pots of coffee and chili and cases of Miller High Life as they played guitars, bass, keyboards and drums in what seemed increasingly like a living biomech, their tech made out of fungal networks and cacti needles.

 It was loose and flowed onto tape well. Recorded by Robbie Cody and Zac Hernandez (who assisted on Wand’s ‘Laughing Matter’), the sounds were great from the get-go. First takes were mostly best takes. Fuelled with DNA lifted from country-rock cut with native psych and prog strands, Cory guided his craft toward the cosmic side of the highway, a benevolent alien in ambient fields hazy with heat and synths, early morning fog and space echo spreading the harmonies wide.

 ‘Pale Horse Rider’’s got a lot to get out of its mind, looking around and seeing that, on the surface, things don’t always look like much. A lifelong Californian, Cory’s naturally found himself standing to the left of most of the
country. The west may be only what you make it; these days, the roadside view looks exceptionally sunbleached and left behind. ‘Pale Horse Rider’ eyes the city, the country and the fragile environment that holds them both in its hands - a record as much about Los Angeles as it can be with its back to the town and the sun in its eyes; as much about
ostalgia as new music can be with the apocalypse over the next rise.

 On ‘Pale Horse Rider’, Cory Hanson moves ceaselessly forward. The old myths weave and waft, the shadows of tombstones flickering in the mirages and the light that lies dead ahead.