quête:vital spark

From Northern Ireland and the South of England hail Jetplane Landing - which, for the last two decades has been variously composed of: Jamie Burchell (Bass/Vocals), Raife Burchell (Drums), Andrew Ferris (Vocals/Guitars), Cahir O’Doherty (Guitars/Vocals) and Craig McKean (Drums). Big Scary Monsters are releasing their debut album Zero For Conduct on vinyl this January as well as putting their entire back catalogue back on streaming services. Their debut album ‘Zero For Conduct’, was recorded on an 8-track tape machine in Jamie's parents' garage in Bognor Regis and mixed during engineer Sean Doherty’s downtime in a London studio owned by a diamond mining company. Hailed a 'masterpiece’ (5Ks - Kerrang!) upon its release in 2001 - it contains fan favourites ‘This Is Not Revolution Rock’ and ‘Summer Ends’ and perfectly encapsulates the vitality of the 00's post-hardcore DIY scene that inspired its creation. Deriving their name from the moment a blissed-out Burchell/Ferris witnessed At The Drive-In perform ‘One Armed Scissor’ on their debut British TV performance - “Fuck me Ferris, they sound like a jet plane landing!” - ZFC channels that riotous energy across its heart-felt eleven cuts. Delicate acoustic confessionals sit alongside full-throated math-rock experimentation; this is an album as varied as it is ambitious. Jamie: “We initially set out to track the record during a two-week period Andrew had off from work. At the end of those two weeks, we didn’t even have all the drums recorded let alone the overdubs. So the idea emerged that Ferris and I would drive down every weekend from London to my parents’ house and we would make the album that way. Cut to… one year later…” Andrew: “When I listen back now, I can physically feel the conversations we had on those long drives, all those micro-decisions - getting the songs to be… right. It was a long process, but truthfully I’d have been happy to let it go longer. Jamie gave me so much confidence and pushed me to places I didn’t know I had or even needed to be. It was a really special time.”. Jamie continues, “There was this weird fusion between us musically which seemed to just work.” Fans of Elliot Smith, Nick Drake, J Mascis, and Stephen Malkmus will feel right at home with this lovingly crafted set. Spoiler alert: heavier sounds and bigger rooms were to come for Jetplane but on Zero For Conduct their musical universe feels at once expansive and deeply personal.

Be With present the first ever reissue of the ultra rare double pack DJ promo of Malcolm McLaren & Bootzilla Orchestra's "Call A Wave". Originally slipping out in 1989 to a select few, there were rumoured to be only ever 300 copies pressed. Indeed, the entire package never got a proper release and now goes for a small fortune.

Say what? Bootsy Collins, Jeff Beck and Malcolm McLaren, all in one band, composing over a Barry White sample? And that's just the original. But you can forget about that for now. Here we have the incredibly sought-after "DFC Dance Mix", mixed by Massimino Lippoli of Morenas / Sueño Latino fame for the legendary DFC Italy. It's a throbbing, vital, dramatic slice of dreamy ambient house. A deep, entrancing track that's both blissful and dancefloor dynamite. It features the iconic, disaffected female vocal chopped up over elegant piano snatches, Beck's ace guitar stylings over rolling, heavy drums and a killer, hypnotic bassline with sparkling harp coming and going. It's exotic, otherworldly and brimming with that very special late 80s/early 90s Mediterranean vibe. Yes, it's Balearic, it's House. Above all else, it's a pure uncut slice of halcyon summer days, pressed on wax.

But on side B we also have the mesmeric "Breakdown Mix", again mixed by DFC Italy. For some, *this* is the mix to have - and who are we to argue? This time, the vocals are treated so they're uttered backwards, contributing to the wonderfully disorienting magic of this particular mix.

And how could we forget the equally iconic "Orbital Mix"? Not by the actual group Orbital, but courtesy of S'Express's Mark Moore & William Orbit, no less. A brilliant, beautiful remix that's perhaps more musical. They make more obvious use of the sample from the original Barry White track ("I'm Gonna Love You Just a Little More Baby") that Malcolm was inspired by. Flip over to Side D to find the duo's uber-horizontal "Return To The Deep Ambient Mix", a floaty, beatless gem that'll leave you swooning.

To round out this quite astonishing package, the "New Age Mix", again coming from the DFC Italy camp, elegantly sends us off into the cosmos with minimal percussion and maximum vibes.

Every mix on this DJ double pack is truly killer. Simon Francis remastered the original audio for this release and Cicely Balston's precise cut for Alchemy at AIR Studios ensures this 2x12" well and truly pumps. The immaculate Record Industry pressing will ensure this incredibly sought-after masterpiece finds a home in many more DJ boxes this and every summer. For the artwork, we've recreated the original DJ promo, a plain white gatefold sleeve complete with the iconic burnt orange hype sticker. Hold tight. Roof down, tops off.

From Alehouse to Playhouse Bjarte Eike and his barnstorming Barokksolistene capture the vital spark of Restoration London’s entertainment scene with a captivating new recording for Rubicon Classics! The Playhouse Sessions will be released on 23 September 2022 to coincide with Barokksolistene’s concert double-bill at London’s Southbank Centre.

‘A smattering of Purcell, dances from Playford’s Dancing Master, shanties, reels and ballads succumb to a nine-piece ensemble drawing on Baroque, jazz and folk styles for a no holds barred hooley of riotous improvisatory give and take,’ (BBC Music Magazine review of The Alehouse Sessions, August 2019)

London’s musicians, pushed in the 1650s, to the margins of society by order of Oliver Cromwell, found room for new forms of entertainment in city-centre taverns and alehouses. They remained there long after the restoration of the monarchy, performing sets of dances, theatre songs and bawdy ballads to audiences glad to be free from Puritan constraints on pleasure.

Norwegian violinist Bjarte Eike and his Barokksolistene have restored the spirit and substance of those long-forgotten performances with their Alehouse Sessions, hailed by The Times as ‘irresistible’ and ‘fabulously unrestrained’ by The Guardian. Five years ago the Norwegian violinist and his band scored a best-selling album with The Alehouse Sessions on Rubicon Classics. They return to the label with another compelling collection of music and words of the kind on offer more than three centuries ago at Henry Purcell’s favourite Westminster watering holes. The Playhouse Sessions, set for release on Rubicon Classics on 23 September 2022, reflects the uplifting energy and engaging emotional contrasts of Barokksolistene’s Alehouse performances.

“The album contains a sort of inner narrative that runs through the recording,” says Bjarte Eike. “It has become like a play in its own right, with each track being a small tale within a larger story.” The recording’s tracklist includes Eike’s beguiling arrangements of music from Purcell’s semi-opera The Fairy Queen and his own original compositions on words from the play on which it is based, Shakespeare’s A Midsummer Night’s Dream; popular songs and ballads such as ‘The Irish Washerwoman’, ‘I often for my Jenny strove’ and ‘The Three Ravens’; tunes from Purcell’s welcome odes and stage shows, Come ye sons of art and Dido and Aeneas among them; the ‘Willow Song’ from Shakespeare’s Othello; Eike’s own voice in Puck’s monologue from Act 5 of A Midsummer Night’s Dream; and John Dowland’s sublime air ‘Can she excuse my wrongs’.

London’s theatres were closed at the start of the English Civil War in 1642 and remained shut until the Restoration. Alehouses offered redundant musicians, actors and dancers a place to scrape a precarious living and soon became their creative refuge. “Although a few surviving theatres reopened in 1660 with the return of Charles II, there was little money around to rebuild those that had been demolished,” observes Bjarte Eike. “And a generation of musicians had already found an audience in places like the Black Horse in Aldersgate Street. So popular were their alehouse sessions that Cromwell tried to abolish them! But they outlived him and became part of Restoration musical life.” The form of a Barokksolistene Alehouse, he adds, is like a creative room. “Within its framework I can frequently refurbish the show with new contents. The Playhouse project is likewise an extension of the ever-evolving Alehouse Sessions. Together they tell the story of music and theatre in London during Cromwell’s time and after the Restoration. Of course there’s an historical context to what we do. But there’s also the practical context – which is even more important to me – of connecting with a contemporary twenty-first century audience. An Alehouse / Playhouse performance is not something for the museum; it's about music made in the present moment, just as it was in the London alehouses of Purcell’s day -- with their playhouses annexed to the rear of the beer-drinking saloons. The encounter of musicians onstage and the audience in the hall is the real magic of it. We have to fuse the audience into the action of our performance!”

The Playhouse Sessions will be launched on Friday 23 September with a late-night concert at the Purcell Room and a post-concert Alehouse Session in the foyer of the Queen Elizabeth Hall. Soprano Mary Bevan is set to join Eike and his Alehouse Boys for the first half of their Southbank Centre double-bill, offering unique interpretations of songs from Purcell shows and other hits from the late seventeenth-century London stage. “The Southbank Centre is a direct descendant of concerts given in the 1650s in the alehouses of London,” notes Eike. “These alehouses after all staged some of the world’s first public concerts. Later, after the Restoration, it became common for promoters to advertise alehouse concerts in the press and offer subscription tickets. Purcell and his fellow musicians were thus just as at home performing there as they were in the chambers of the royal court or in London’s new theatres.”

Bjarte Eike launched his Alehouse Sessions in company with like-minded musicians 15 years ago. The ensemble comprises a core of regular performers, all of whom have committed to memory a huge setlist of up to four hours of music. Typically they meet a day or so before a concert tour to share a meal and make music together; then next day, re-grouping thirty minutes before the show, they discover Eike’s select-menu for the evening. “That ensures that every show is fresh,” he notes. “I make sure we never repeat the same programme twice. It’s therefore essential to work with people who share my outlook and dare to adventure. We’re into a high-risk sport, with lots of traps and places where the unexpected appears - for good or for ill. And so the audience knows we’re vulnerable. But our skill is seen in how we re-act on the hoof to the unpredictable. That’s authenticity and honesty - and above all it’s a performance that’s genuine.”

Armed with a classical training and a background in folk music and improvisation, Bjarte Eike was drawn naturally to Early Music in all its stylistic variety. “I never really felt at home with only one genre,” he recalls. “Early Music allowed me to study profound, complicated compositions, but performing it has also opened up the chance of rebellion and uproar! Early music offers wide, multi-faceted areas of musical exploration for me. You find, for instance, links to different types of music wherever you look in seventeenth-century English repertoire. And I am fascinated by all these connections. They offer a foundation for the Alehouse Sessions and for all Barokksolistene performance more generally. Every member of the group plays, sings, dances and improvises without limitation. We’re all interested in the many different fields of being a stage performer and pushing hard at the ‘normal’ boundaries of what it means to be a classical musician.”

Richie Culver had been waiting his whole life to record I was born by the sea. His debut album immediately and messily inscribed the artist into the canon of outsider music and experimental electronics, serving both as an arresting statement of intent and a painful reckoning with the difficult path that lead up to it, stealing one last glance back at a place he always knew he had to escape. Between grim lamentations, faded memories and anxiety attacks, all told with searing honesty and disarming openness, I was born by the sea excavates a space for hope, finding Culver digging through Humberside silt to find a world weary optimism, the raw material from which his visual and sound art is shaped. For this collection of expansions and inversions, Culver invites a collection of kindred spirits, contemporary inspirations and old heroes to wade into the salt water of his formative years spent living for impromptu raves and afterparties, connecting vivid memories of his birth place of Withernsea to artists hailing from as nearby as Preston and Bridlington, further afield, from Manchester and London, Berlin and Paris, before returning back to Hull, to where it all began.

For some, responding to I was born by the sea means diving even deeper into the record’s furthest reaches. Space Afrika clear away the pummelling loops of noise from ‘It’s hard to get to know you,’ revealing a cool and cavernous expanse in its wake. Distant chatter, previously heard as though through thin, plasterboard walls, now echoes from outside the maddening claustrophobia of the original’s Sisyphean sonics, illuminated as a dense storm cloud suspended amidst a more open scene, washed clean by a lighter rain, allowing the tender heart of the track to beat clear. London producer MOBBS stretches out ‘Pigeon Flesh’ into an epic, 10-minute, cold-sweat spiral, strung-out tension wrung from disconnected phone tones twisted in unexpected directions, snatches of Culver’s voice turned inside-out and deep fried bass threatening to tip the track over into oblivion, the build-and-release of a nervous breakdown experienced in real time. In an act of subversive self-reflection, Morgane Polanski switches one kind of ennui for another in her adaption of ‘I was born by the sea,’ swapping the sea for the city, English seaside towns in January for summer evenings in Paris and flashing lighthouses and sparkling oil rigs for the Eiffel Tower and the traffic around L’Arc de Triomphe. Even Culver finds time to revisit ‘Dream About Yourself,’ a track taken from his EP Post Traumatic Fantasy, breathing new words into its glacial drift, the half-remembered testimony of a shut-in: Woke up in the evening / Pray for me / Don’t trust anyone / Pray for algorithm. Reframed in a more melancholy light, the track’s reverberant keys even more clearly evoke a mournful nostalgia, fresh pain felt in old wounds.

Others find a parallel universe in Culver’s visceral world building. Rainy Miller flips the script with a scorched, avant-drill rework of ‘Daytime TV’, threading puncturing hi-hats and queasy low-end surge through the track’s steady ambient cascade, invoking the irresistible Preston beat magic of Miller’s own essential debut album, Desquamation. Aho Ssan melts away the crystalline textures of ‘Love Like an Abscess’ with the ominous crackle of a nascent fire, building through swathes of organic Max/MSP squelch and brittle, nails-down-chalkboard scrape, swelling and metastasising the original to spill over Culver’s desperate hymn to corporeal desire, at once flesh and not. Teresa Winter transports us an hour up the coast from Withernsea to her native Bridlington, replacing the sea wall of synthesis on ‘Nervous Energy’ with muffled ASMR murk and fever dream whispers, transforming Culver’s unflinching observations into a haunting call-and-response, filling in the blanks with her own eerie utterances, a fleeting conversation with a ghost. In a touching victory lap, Fila Brazillia, eccentric stalwarts of beloved ‘90s trip hop imprint Pork Recordings, whose performances at Hull institution The Lamp convinced a young Culver of the necessity to make his mark on club culture, resurface for their first remix in 20 years. Steve Cobby and David McSherry lead a low-slung, heartfelt stroll back through a suite of tracks from I was born by the sea, tracing a full circle saunter from Culver’s origins to his current musical practice, the sounds of his present repurposed by the sound of his youth. In a gesture that reflects the emotional complexity of the project, Fila Brazillia find joy at the end of Culver’s troubled reflection, picking out an undeniable groove in the stasis of feeling trapped in your hometown. Underlining Hull’s vital musical legacy, from Baby Mammoth to Throbbing Gristle, Cobby and McSherry demonstrate that, though there are certainly storms, by the sea there is also sun and through the fog, if you listen, you can hear a singular sound, a sound now carried by Richie Culver.

Participant is a record label and creative studio run by William Markarian-Martin and Richie Culver

A pivotal record for contemporary times; bright, free, adamant, optimistic. Brain Worms is RVG's fullest, most pristine album yet. All throughout Brain Worms, it's apparent that this is a band in very fine form. Album opener 'Common Ground' sets the tone for what's to come; a shiny, thrilling, punch of an album, with all the beloved RVG hallmarks. Vager's voice is unfiltered and commanding as ever when delivering her clever, not-quite-ironic lyrics. Here, though, those lyrics feel so much less resigned to yearning, and so much more defiant and joyous. 'Tambourine' is the only Covid song Vager wrote when "trying not to write Covid songs", and it's a painfully honest portrait of grieving mid-isolation. 'Brain Worms' tells the all-too-familiar story of a person falling down the internet rabbit hole and finding comfort in conspiracies. 'Nothing Really Changes' is a keys-heavy new wave-ish thing, while closer 'Tropic of Cancer' sparkles with Vager's self-assured new manifesto: I know what I'm like, and I know how I get. If you think I'm strange, you ain't seen nothin' yet. Bloxham, Nolte, and Wallace are flawlessly adept in bringing Vager's songwriting to life. Recorded in London at Snap Studios with James Trevascus (Nick Cave & Warren Ellis, PJ Harvey), all ten tracks surge with lush sounds and clear intentions and the magic of an acoustic guitar once owned by Kate Bush, given to her by Tears for Fears (who, legend has it, wrote 'Everybody Wants to Rule the World' on it). Between the four bandmates lead singer and guitarist Vager, guitarist Reuben Bloxham, drummer Marc Nolte and bassist Isabele Wallace this is the most confident they've ever felt in RVG. They've moved past their influences, pushed themselves, and tried new things. And they have made a record they can, by all accounts, call their best. "Brain Worms feels like the antithesis to what a post-pandemic record could easily be. For a band who were already writing music about being reclusive "we were depressed and not going outside on our first two albums" the enforced isolation and time to think gave Vager space to write about anything she wanted. And, it turned out, she was ready to write about acceptance. "If we could only make one more album, it would be this one," says Vager. "Easily one of the most vital bands on the Aussie scene today" Rolling Stone "A calling card for outsiders... dynamic and vital post-punk" The Guardian

Ever Crashing, the second LP by Kennedy Ashlyn aka SRSQ pronounced ‘seer-skew’, is the summation of a nearly three-year journey of soul searching, songwriting, and self-discovery: “I became myself in the process of making this record.” From the first choral swells of opener “It Always Rains,” it’s clear this collection exists on an ascendant plane, capturing an artist in super bloom. Every song hits like a single, heaving with guitar, synth, strings, live drums, and oceans of Ashlyn’s astounding voice, balletic and illuminated. The tracks gleam with detail, often assembled from as many as 100 separate tracks, all of which were written and played solely by Ashlyn – a feat of world-building as daunting as it is devastating.

For her, however, the process is intrinsic and intuitive – even a matter of survival. Her 2018 solo debut emerged in response to the tragic Ghost Ship fire in Oakland, which took the life of her bandmate and best friend Cash Askew. Similarly, Ever Crashing began materializing in the wake of an ADHD and bipolar disorder diagnosis, prompting a profound personal overhaul. Ashlyn cites such periods of turmoil as a muse of sorts, when “songs begin to echo within me,” gradually reverberating clearer and more vividly. As melodies and arrangements come into focus, the songs act like containers, vessels in which to externalize and exorcise tumultuous emotions, a transformation she memorializes in the climax of “Élan Vital:” “Reeling in and out of deep despair / I am saved by song.”

From swooning end credits balladry (“Dead Loss”) to orchestral slow-burn torch songs (“Abyss”) to dizzying shoegaze heavens (“Someday I Will Bask In The Sun”), the album exudes a sense of aching grandeur and bewildered joy, rich with triumphs hard won and lost loves never forgotten. Melodies pirouette and crescendo in dazzling, elevated acrobatics, somewhere between Kate Bush and The Sundays, threaded with ethereal undercurrents of shimmering shadow. Riffs brood and sparkle over crystalline synths, buoyant bass, and patient percussion, steadily building to holy moments of tidal power, finessed to perfection by producer Chris Coady (Beach House, Slowdive, Zola Jesus). Ashlyn’s is a dream-pop of questing catharsis, vulnerable but orchestral, as dense with hooks as heartbreak.

The album’s title refers to Ashlyn’s recurring sensation of being trapped in the crest of a wave, turned and churned in the surf, mirroring the cycles of self-flagellation and surrender that she battles being bipolar. But as the poetic raptures of these songs attest, her creative process thrives at transmuting trauma into potent music of arresting beauty and hidden divinity. Ever Crashing is an aching, rare work, shaded with gradients of reverie and regret, loss and letting go, “mourning the person I thought I should be, mourning the person I never was.” But even in its pain, Ashlyn’s voice exerts a redemptive gravity, yearning to transform and transcend: “Even on the inside / I’m bracing for impact / I’m waiting to destroy my life / To become sunlight.”

Ever Crashing, the second LP by Kennedy Ashlyn aka SRSQ pronounced ‘seer-skew’, is the summation of a nearly three-year journey of soul searching, songwriting, and self-discovery: “I became myself in the process of making this record.” From the first choral swells of opener “It Always Rains,” it’s clear this collection exists on an ascendant plane, capturing an artist in super bloom. Every song hits like a single, heaving with guitar, synth, strings, live drums, and oceans of Ashlyn’s astounding voice, balletic and illuminated. The tracks gleam with detail, often assembled from as many as 100 separate tracks, all of which were written and played solely by Ashlyn – a feat of world-building as daunting as it is devastating.

For her, however, the process is intrinsic and intuitive – even a matter of survival. Her 2018 solo debut emerged in response to the tragic Ghost Ship fire in Oakland, which took the life of her bandmate and best friend Cash Askew. Similarly, Ever Crashing began materializing in the wake of an ADHD and bipolar disorder diagnosis, prompting a profound personal overhaul. Ashlyn cites such periods of turmoil as a muse of sorts, when “songs begin to echo within me,” gradually reverberating clearer and more vividly. As melodies and arrangements come into focus, the songs act like containers, vessels in which to externalize and exorcise tumultuous emotions, a transformation she memorializes in the climax of “Élan Vital:” “Reeling in and out of deep despair / I am saved by song.”

From swooning end credits balladry (“Dead Loss”) to orchestral slow-burn torch songs (“Abyss”) to dizzying shoegaze heavens (“Someday I Will Bask In The Sun”), the album exudes a sense of aching grandeur and bewildered joy, rich with triumphs hard won and lost loves never forgotten. Melodies pirouette and crescendo in dazzling, elevated acrobatics, somewhere between Kate Bush and The Sundays, threaded with ethereal undercurrents of shimmering shadow. Riffs brood and sparkle over crystalline synths, buoyant bass, and patient percussion, steadily building to holy moments of tidal power, finessed to perfection by producer Chris Coady (Beach House, Slowdive, Zola Jesus). Ashlyn’s is a dream-pop of questing catharsis, vulnerable but orchestral, as dense with hooks as heartbreak.

The album’s title refers to Ashlyn’s recurring sensation of being trapped in the crest of a wave, turned and churned in the surf, mirroring the cycles of self-flagellation and surrender that she battles being bipolar. But as the poetic raptures of these songs attest, her creative process thrives at transmuting trauma into potent music of arresting beauty and hidden divinity. Ever Crashing is an aching, rare work, shaded with gradients of reverie and regret, loss and letting go, “mourning the person I thought I should be, mourning the person I never was.” But even in its pain, Ashlyn’s voice exerts a redemptive gravity, yearning to transform and transcend: “Even on the inside / I’m bracing for impact / I’m waiting to destroy my life / To become sunlight.”

40-plus years since its original release, the pop-punk-new wave inventions of Anthony
Moore’s ‘Flying Doesn’t Help’ are freshly remastered, blasting the sparkling, angular
sounds into today with perfect vitality.
 After spending the early years of the 1970s making experimental music first as a solo
artist, then with Slapp Happy and Henry Cow, 1976’s ‘OUT’ sessions had reinvigorated
Anthony’s youthful love of the naive pop melodies of pop radio, the undeniable excitement
of songs. While ‘OUT’ ultimately went unreleased at the time, the iconoclasm clouding the
late ’70s air was addictive and transformative for Anthony. England seemed to be roiled
as violently as it had been in counter-cultural days a decade earlier; the UK pop charts
breathlessly reflected the changing spectrum with equal parts aging hippie and prog
delicacies alongside new ascendant sounds: rough-hewn pub and punk rock, plus dub
reggae and disco and ska and Stiff and Krautrock. This proved to be an ideal environment
for Anthony to make records by exploring, as he puts it, the “deep connection between
minimalism, repetition, working with tape and celluloid and forming the modules of a
three-minute pop song.”
 Caught up in a no-holds-barred era, Anthony was more than happy to play the out-of-hishead madman, raving through outrageous exchanges with the press, while ‘Judy Get
Down’ received Single Of The Week honours from the NME (with review penned by Brian
Eno). Represented by Blackhill Enterprises, Anthony did production work throughout
1978-1979, on Kevin Ayers’ ‘Rainbow Takeaway’, Manfred Mann’s Earth Band’s ‘Angel
Station’ and the first This Heat album, meanwhile cutting his own songs on a dead time
deal at Workhouse Studio with engineer / producer Laurie Latham. Through the wee
hours of countless nights, the two pieced together ‘Flying Doesn’t Help’, with a little help
from friends (an inspired bunch, including Bob Shilling, Charles Hayward, Chris Slade,
Robert Vogel, Festus, Matt Irving, Sam Harley, Bernie Clark, Edwin Cross and Martine
Moore on the telephone).
 Building upon the axis of pop and experimental impulses that distinguished ‘OUT’, and
informed further by the raw sensibilities exploding everywhere, ‘Flying Doesn’t Help’
blasts out of the speakers with its own unique blend of sophistication and aggression,
Anthony’s keyboard flashes between arpeggiations and outright stabs among the noise of
slicing guitars, funk basslines and the reverbed blare of the drumkit. Opening with
Anthony’s greatest hit, ‘Judy Get Down’, and containing a noise-laden remake of the
Slapp Happy/Henry Cow number, ‘War’, among other delightful sweet-and-salty
confections, ‘Flying Doesn’t Help’ never stops moving, fuelled with raw outrage and dark
satirical intent, churning with the energy of next-gen types like Tubeway Army and DEVO,
while shimmering with the elegance of the still-challenging old guard types, like Cale and
Bowie.
 Clearly, ‘Flying Doesn’t Help’ was steeped in the time, and the original release reflected a
deep mistrust of the corporation mindset. Information was a dubious concept, and
connections to any recognizable organization were seen as untrustworthy, so facts like
musician credits were left out of the package, and even Anthony’s name was altered (he
was credited as A. More on the album and Tony More on a single release). The label
name QUANGO was conceptual as well, standing for ‘Quasi Autonomous NonGovernmental Organization’; each record was sealed with red tape that the listener was
required to cut through in order to get to the music. Rather than recreate the conditions of
the original release of ‘Flying Doesn’t Help’, this reissue instead embraces the changed
environment of the current time and place: instead of no credits, now they are complete,
with Anthony’s full name restored and even the artwork subtly ‘relocated’ to reflect a new
set of relationships. All of which brings the forward-looking sounds of ‘Flying Doesn’t Help’
into the more independent-minded 21st Century syntax where it belongs.

2022 re-press, 180g vinyl

A monumental force firmly rooted in the soul canon, Willie Hutch is most notable for recording two of the best Blaxploitation soundtracks, The Mack and Foxy Brown. Yet his legacy is much greater. Outside of Marvin Gaye, Stevie Wonder and Smokey Robinson, Hutch was arguably Motown's top male solo artist of the 70s. Prior to his association with Gordy et al, Hutch crafted his opening statements for RCA, two vital LPs that Be With Records is honoured to present today.His debut, Soul Portrait (1969), is an incredible slice of gritty, Southern-fried soul. Think Stax with a touch of Detroit sparkle. As a whole, the album demonstrates the self-contained act Hutch was, he wrote every tune on the album while also arranging and conducting for it. It features 11 timeless grooves, with a blend of beat ballads and undeniable dancers.
The album's centrepiece is undoubtedly the iconic, brooding minor-key masterpiece "A Love That's Worth Having". The album's most recognisable track, it's a towering ballad drenched in stylish, sliding horns and elevated by its stunning backing vocalists. It was famously sampled by Madlib to augment his soundtrack for Stones Throw's Our Vinyl Weighs A Ton as well as 9th Wonder for the Murs classic "Dreamchaser". Whilst one can understand these iconic beatmakers for leaning on the work of a master, you really need to own the track in its full, unedited glory.
Horn-heavy opener "Ain't Gonna Stop" is a funk-fuelled monster, Hutch's fatback vocal aided by a vicious drum 'n' conga rhythm whilst the bumping uptown soul of "You Can't Miss Something That You Never Had" anticipates the Motown-vibe that Hutch went on to create. Supple guitar licks propel the loping, head-nod breaks of "Good To The Last Drop" whilst "That's What I Call Lovin' You" features gospel piano and plaintive, tender vocal turn. Rounding out Side A, the blazing horns of "You Gotta Try" hints at the Blaxploitation that was to come.Ushering in the flipside, the thundering proto-70s-Motown rhythm of "Let Me Give You The Love You Need" segues neatly into the bouncing Northern Soul favourite "Lucky To Be Loved By You" whilst Hutch's gutbucket guitar stylings are all over the smouldering "Keep On Doin' What You Do". "Your Love Keeps Liftin' Me Higher" is not a rendition of the Jackie Wilson classic, rather, it's a powerhouse original that indicates where Hutch would take his sound on The Mack. Closing the album, the anthemic "Do What You Wanna Do" name-checks contemporary dance fads before instructing the listener to just get up and dance.Brilliantly supported by a heavy roster of studio cats who combined to create a winning combination of horns, strings, and gorgeous female background vocalists, Soul Portrait is as complete a soul album as the decade's very best. Tricky to find for a number of years, this lovingly produced reissue is certainly welcome. Paired with the soaring follow-up, Season For Love, these recordings shine a new light on the early work of a soul legend. Officially licensed and remastered for vinyl by Simon Francis, it has been pressed on audiophile 180g vinyl for the first time and features the original artwork and liner notes.

Flashes of light rarely burn for long. Bush Tetras exploded into
New York in 1979 and flamed out just a few years later. Yet
somehow this lightning-quick band have risen from their own
ashes again and again for four decades. The spark that ignited
Bush Tetras tapped into a deep grid of power, fuelled by
guitarist Pat Place, singer Cynthia Sley and drummer Dee Pop.
 That chemistry is palpable on ‘Rhythm and Paranoia: The Best
of Bush Tetras’, which features 30 tracks across 2CDs in a 4-
panel digipack / 29 songs across 3LPs pressed onto 180gram
vinyl in a rigid lift-off box with lift ribbon, remastered by Carl
Saff, plus a 40-page (2CD) / 46-page (3LP) book with neverbefore-seen photos, an original essay on the band by Marc
Masters and micro essays by Sonic Youth’s Thurston Moore,
R&B legend Nona Hendryx, The Clash’s Topper Headon and
more.
 From the band’s earliest recordings to their current, vital-asever incarnation, ‘Rhythm and Paranoia’ - for the first time ever
- showcases their unique, influential and body-shaking meld of
rock, punk, funk, reggae and more in one cohesive, immersive
and meticulously constructed box set.
 “Coupled with ‘Too Many Creeps’’ dancey arrangement, Sley’s
monotonous tone signaled that within the Tetras’ newly staked
safe space, misogyny wasn’t a threat: it was just a boring,
predictable damper on the party. Like the rest of their peers, this
band was over it.” - Pitchfork (The History of Feminist Punk in
33 Songs)
 “The Bush Tetras are a national treasure” - VICE
 “Renowned at the dawn of the eighties for pairing the disjoined
guitar skronk of the inaccessible No Wave scene with
irrepressible, funk-infused rhythms, the Bush Tetras were
remarkably influential without ever really receiving their due” -
The New Yorker
 “Bush Tetras bridge the gap between the Ramones and Sonic
Youth.” - NY Post





[e] 5 Cold Turkey [Live in London]










[p] 16 Mr. Lovesong [Alternate Version]













[xd] 30 Run Run Run [Live in San Francisco]

rRoxymore's long-anticipated debut album, Face To Phase, was born of her annual creative hibernation practice. Whereas her previous appearances for Don't Be Afraid - Thoughts Of An Introvert, Parts 1 & 2 - revealed inner worlds of saturated colour and natural expressiveness, she retreated into her studio at the turn of winter 2018 occupied with the idea of dismantling the dancefloor-centric pressure paradigm.


The resulting album, Face to Phase, finds rRoxymore methodically and mindfully stripping back to fundamentals: rumbling minimalist dub, sparse polymetric drums, boldy unpredictable melodic narratives and subtleties which hover out-of-reach or disappear into vapour. Forged by the spirit of club music cultures, Face To Phase favours deep listening; resisting the temptation to reflect on the past or project towards the future, it's an album that is firmly rooted in the contemporary.


Sparked by her own archive of field recordings, and produced primarily but not exclusively in the box, Face To Phase adds several facets to rRoxymore's already wide repertoire. The pensive and beatless opener "Home Is Where The Music Is" was inspired by her longtime friend Planningtorock, while "Forward Flamingo" is a spiraling dream-state of house music dissociation; elsewhere "Energy Points" remains anchored to the ocean floor, radiating heavy dub waves, "Passages" is a ghoulish skeleton of UK break beats, "What's The Plan" closes the album in a blissfully blunted fashion, while twisting, shape-shifting rhythms push and pulse "PPS21" into series of ever-evolving shapes and forms.


Through and in between the eight songs of Face To Phase, rRoxymore fortifies her status as a seasoned artist, grounded by over a decade of live performance and touring, collaboration, composition and experimentation. With a new live performance collaboration with a percussionist set to debut the LP at Atonal on 1st September, rRoxymore is primed to expand her reputation even further as one of the most vital and distinctive artists on the fringes of contemporary club culture.

Daniel Avery broadens the exquisite sonic universe established on last year's critically-acclaimed sophomore LP Song For Alpha, presenting the collected B-sides & Remixes. Showcasing cuts from the album's writing and recording process, as well, Avery also invites a number of his contemporaries and some of the most vital underground producers in the world to rework his original material, with transformative results.

The frosty melancholy of Citizen // Nowhere is reworked by London producer Manni Dee into something altogether monstrous. Introducing itself with a kick drum powerful enough to level a warehouse, and only getting more urgent from there forward, Dee's remix blends a knowing rave glint in the eye with a nonetheless uncompromising stance.

The Copenhagen-via-Moscow producer Anastasia Kristensen immediately justifies her status as a rapidly rising talent on the scene, locking into a delicate yet no less powerful groove for her sparkling remix of Glitter. Seamlessly heightening the almost meditative qualities of Avery's original, she weaves a blissful rhythmic trip, taking in razor-sharp percussions and spectral dub techno.

A longstanding fixture on the Midwest US rave scene, Patrick Russell applies his typical grit to 'Song For Alpha's firmly dancefloor focused centrepiece, Diminuendo. In subtly shifting the focus to the track's passages of overwhelming feedback, he sculpts a black hole of snarling electro and piston-like breaks, sure to prove an inviting wormhole to those willing to surrender further, deeper and darker.