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The fifth album from Oklahoma-bred singer/songwriter Parker Millsap, Be Here Instead emerged from a wild alchemy of instinct, ingenuity, and joyfully determined rule-breaking. In a departure from the guitar-and-notebook-based approach to songwriting that shaped his earlier work, the Nashville-based artist followed his curiosity to countless other modes of expression, experimenting with everything from piano to effects pedals to old-school drum machines (a fascination partly inspired by the early-’70s innovations of Sly Stone and J.J. Cale). As those explorations deepened and broadened his musical vision, Millsap soon arrived at a body of work touched with both unbridled imagination and lucid insight into the search for presence in a chaotic world. Produced by John Agnello (Kurt Vile, Sonic Youth, Waxahatchee) and mainly recorded live with Millsap’s full band, Be Here Instead marks a stylistic shift from the gritty and high-energy folk of his previous output, including 2018’s acclaimed Other Arrangements and 2016’s The Very Last Day (an Americana Music Association Awards nominee for Album of the Year). With its adventurous yet immaculately detailed sonic palette, the album warps genres to glorious effect, at one point offering up what Millsap aptly refers to as a “disco-Americana showtune.” In another creative breakthrough, Be Here Instead forgoes the character-driven storytelling of his past in favor of a more introspective and endlessly revelatory form of lyricism, an element he traces back to the charmed nature of his songwriting process. “Because the lyrics were appearing seemingly out of nowhere and with no prior intent, some of them started to feel like transmissions from my subconscious, rather than the preconceived linear stories or waking thoughts of my earlier songs,” says Millsap. “They feel like words I needed to hear from myself, and not just things I wanted to say to someone else.”

‘Soul Calibre’ from Sydney beatmaker Kase Avila is a collection of late night down tempo groovers, low slung boom bap beats and smoked out hazy head nod hip-hop and soul.

Kase Avila is an Australian-Fillipino DJ, producer and all round creative from Sydney, Australia. Packed full of depth, diversity and musicality, this one is for early doors or end of sets at the club, back to mine sessions, sunrises, sunsets, headphone trips, all seasons and basically any time you want to elevate your soul and feel good.

Out on Friday 4 October, independent label Low Key Source is proud to be releasing Raiza Biza’s forthcoming album Bygones.

A hypnotic culmination of hundreds of hard drive demos, eclectic musical inspiration and collaboration, enter Bygones - a record striking the balance between the intricacies of electronic production and at times, melodic half-sung poetry, delivered with raw intensity.

The nine track record features cameo appearances from Sudanese-American rapper/producer extraordinaire Oddisee, Australia’s REMI and B Wise along with AmmoNation collaborators Blaze the Emperor, Embher, VULC, and more.

Speaking with a sense of urgency in his flowing baritone voice, Biza’s work has always carried a socially conscious heart, backed up by honest storytelling and captivating jazz/soul infused
production as the aura to his words. His new material follows a new sound arch, and with those changes comes a newly found freedom.

On Bygones, Biza found inspiration in the deeply written metaphors of the Marvin Gaye-era soul and the heart-hitting rhythms of 1970’s funk groups like Gapp Band. Binding his grounding in socially conscious thought and observational storytelling, he studies the human condition and the world around us - from his own experience.
Though this time, he admits, the record finds the balance between fun and seriousness. Rather than be ruled by the lyrics, the music plays an emotive part.

“I wanted to create space for emotional interpretation of the audience,” he reflects. “I’ve tried to find a balance between the things I’ve released in the past and the further left-sitting things on my hard drive.”

The newest generation of hip-hop has forced him to just do; and overthink less. “Being able to take that fun within the music and combine it with raw melody, you hopefully connect with people.”

He tells the angles of the human condition through high octane moments, the party life, through to the low, self-reflective moments found in tracks like ‘Stolen Youth’ and ‘Trouble’ where he teams up with Oddisee and Zenyth. Both tracks have gone onto become student radio network hits, sitting in the top 10 of the Radioscope Alternative Airplay chart in New Zealand for consecutive weeks.

A humble titan within the antipodean isles and Aotearoa’s underground scene, Biza has firmly planted roots, supporting the up-and-coming generation of local MCs and hip-hop producers. As the hearty driving force behind AmmoNation, Biza believes in the power of community and the sharing of knowledge. A voice from within the African-New Zealand diaspora, Biza has strived to bridge the gaps of understanding and preservation of his experience in New Zealand, while also supporting his fellow artists on the same mission.

“We, the African diaspora, we are no longer toddlers in the places we immigrated to. We have an identity and a growing presence.”

Superb unreleased soundtrack from British 1972 sex comedy starring Gabrielle Drake (Nick Drake’s sister) and Rchard O’Sullivan (Gilbert O’Sullivan’s brother!). Brilliant music on many levels, 17 sexy tracks of swinging jet-set jazz, groovy scatty vocals, hell it must be good because it’s on Trunk Records.

Take yourself back to the fleapit cinemas of the early 1970s. My home town of Aldershot had two - the ABC/123 (with three screens) and The Palace (just one screen, and anything but palatial). Au Pair Girls, released in 1972, was exactly the kind of soft porn “comedy” flick with a vague plot that would, without doubt, have been playing as part of a double bill to the regular “dirty mac brigade”. Such films and such establishments guaranteed the small crowd regular titillating wide screen visions of nude women in preposterous situations and fulfilling preposterous fantasies.
The title of Au Pair Girls suggests it all of course; yes, four young women fly into London from Europe and Asia, are sent to their new employers and find themselves in unexpected and unusual situations pretty fast. There is of course full nudity, crudity and a large slab of cheese on the menu.There is also no real comedy, a sprinkling of infamous character actors (Richard O’Sullivan, John Le Mesurier), and “UFO” actress Gabrielle Drake (sister of Nick Drake) wearing nothing at all. If anything, the film has maintained a vague middle aged male following because of Gabrielle.
But there’s little to save this film from contemporary criticism - its outdated view of life, rights, sex and taste sit uncomfortably today. But the jet set soundtrack by Roger Webb was worth saving.
By 1972 Roger Webb’s career in film and TV music was taking off. He was an established songwriter and live pianist with a jazz trio. He’d already penned a few British scores and was just starting on a formidable future with library companies including Chappell, de Wolfe and Capitol. His route to Au Pair Girls was accidentally through Norman Newell, one of the giants of the post war music industry.Actress and performer Dee / Deanne Shenderry had asked Newell to recommend an artist to arrange her up and coming album. New;ee recommended Roger Webb.The two worked together and some music was produced, but to my knowledge only got to acetate stage (possibly for Apple Records). Dee husband was Kenneth Shipman, a co-owner ofTwickenham film studios.And so when Kenneth Shipman started pre
production of Au Pair Girls, Roger Webb was an easy go-to for film music composition.
Many years ago there was an original reel / master for Au Pair Girls. It was transferred to CD, DAT and cassette circa 1990 and the rapidly degrading tape was subsequently misplaced, lost or just binned. So all we had to work with was a rather shaky transfer from nearly 30 years ago, one which included numerous wobbles as well as speeding up and slowing down moments.The job of rescuing all this was left to Jon Brooks, my hero for all such musical problems. The end result is what you hear on this album. It is by no means sonically perfect but it is all we will ever have.
It’s certainly not Roger Webb’s best ever score (I have more of his ace work coming) but it has a certain charm and relentlessness.The lyrics were written by Norman Newell, and I can imagine the pair having a huge amount of fun putting the score together and recording it, with - as you’d expect - a pretty tight band and lively vocal group.The main theme does, as one reviewer state, “go on a bit”, but there’s enough musically here for me to get excited about and really want to “stick it out”. So I have.

There’s something new under the sun. If you look at it closely,
something new is only (and always) created at crossroads –
when different and signi¦cant traditions are connected and
combined. On their own, these traditions have often existed
for a while. However, in this new form they have never
appeared together. The latest manifestation of something
new can now be found on the album “No Future Dubs”, the
interpretations of “No Future Days” – the most recent album
by German band Messer – by Finnish producer and old
friend of the group Kimmo Saastamoinen aka Toto Belmont.
The intentional traditions that merge on this grand and
digni¦ed album are post-punk, dub and techno. A new
chapter in the culturally constant narrative of dub is written
here. Through their past and parallel activities in hardcore
and post-punk bands, Messer drummer Philipp Wulf met and
befriended Kimmo, originally a drummer too. In their
continuous dialogue discussing their musical journey, Philipp
and Kimmo over the years more and more immersed
themselves in the aesthetic possibilities of dub and reggae.
Indeed, lots of musicians do not listen to the type of music at
home that they write and play in their respective projects
(Take me as an example: House is the music that I produce
and put on as a DJ. On my own, I listen to various stuff,
music by Monk and Messer for example). The same applies
to the protagonists involved here. By discussing dub und
through Toto Belmont’s steadily increasing producingexpertise, the idea of creating dub versions of selected
Messer tracks was born. The Messer album “No Future
Days”, released in 2020, proved to contain the perfect raw
material as the songs on this album are already produced in
a much more transparent way than on previous LPs – and
are hence more suitable for dub. Still, it’s a giant leap from
the originals to the dubs. These add a third dimension to the
described character of the post-punk/dub amalgam: techno.
The result is a sound that hasn’t existed before, especially
not with German lyrics (which scarcely, however, carry
meaning or messages here. Hendrik Otremba’s voice is used
more like an instrument, as if he was the ghostly ¦gure which
he often sings about and which now §oats and screams
through the sound space). The history of mutual contact and
in§uence of (post-)punk and dub (reggae), which Messer
have kept on writing, is glorious and reaches back far in
musical history. Still, it has always been a rather marginal
chapter not only in punk but also in dub history. But already
in the beginnings of punk (the British version, less the
American one), the presence and in§uence of reggae was
obvious in many places as both are united in their resolute
attitude as rebel music. This is how the two genres
recognized each other – especially the punks regarded
reggae as rebellious. As is known, already Johnny Rotten
mainly listened to dub in private. By using the name John
Lydon, he then – together with bass player Jah Wobble –
established the group PiL as one of the most exemplary
bands at the crossroads of dub and punk. The Slits, Pop
Group, Killing Joke, The Ruts and last but not least The Clash
along with the Mick Jones offshoot Big Audio Dynamite –
the thriving British music scene in the early 80s was full of
dub-in§uenced acts. The echoes meandered everywhere. In
the USA, it took longer until the in§uence of dub became
noticeable and it has never been as distinctive as in the UK.
The history of US hardcore, however, cannot be told without
bands like Bad Brains from Washington D.C. who on their
albums occasionally inserted conscious reggae and dub
tracks between breakneck hardcore tracks. Another
important group is Blind Idiot God who similarly included
dub tracks on their LPs – the contrast between densely
droning rock tunes and widely breathing dub versions can be
experienced very vividly here. In the 90s, dub’s in§uence on
post-punk decreased while turning up even more distinctively
somewhere else: Techno was in many respects susceptible
to dub, to say nothing of the music from the so-called British
hardcore continuum (jungle, drum & bass etc.), which directlydeveloped from dub and reggae. But also “pure” techno –
meaning techno without breakbeats – discovered its a¨nity
for the possibilities of dub at an early stage, in England for
instance in projects like Left¦eld or The Orb. In addition, the
project Rhythm & Sound was established in Berlin with close
ties to the Hardwax record store. With regard to this project,
you can’t really say where dub ends and where techno begins
(or vice versa) because of the interconnection of the two
genres here – everything is based on the steppers pulse
which links the two styles like a common DNA. With dub
techno a new genre was created. Until the present day, there
are producers who don’t produce anything else and DJs who
don’t put on any other music. The Messer dubs are
characterized by a grand majestic manner and force that
presumably someone like Mad Professor is able to produce
and that is also inherent in many Scandinavian productions
of the last 15 years; a crystal-clear aesthetic which locates
itself far away from Kingston or Brixton, but features a pulse
referring clearly to Berlin and Helsinki. The songs appear in a
completely new and deconstructed form, the instruments are
exclusively used as particles and raw material, not as riffs;
merely glaring guitar textures ¦ll the wide dub space. There
are many new elements that were added by Toto Belmont,
especially synthesizer sounds and drums. The ¦nal result
creates an enormous aesthetic power and dignity, and an
atmosphere you don’t want to leave anymore. “No Future” is
a well-chosen title as a reference to the protagonists’ punk
association; as a main thrust of the album, however, a
comma between these two words is imaginable as well.

The first single from the Mathlovsky album Yassssin, “​ The Heat”​ i​ s EXACTLY what is said on the label: PURE FIRE! Featuring the talents of album collaborator and live drummer Gregory Simons, and vocalist duo Jason and Rhonda, this single is the maximum hype pressure coming off the LP. Label boss and global octopus extraordinaire Submerged does the B Side honors with a tasty drum n bass tempo acceleration version. It’s important to rewind and understand how we got here in the first place…

Belgian electronic music giant Mathlovsky has continued his constant evolution, with new live performance with a live drummer. Celebrating and promoting this new partnership, the album Yassssin​ (​4 S’s if you want to make it easy on yourself)​ ​is being released on double vinyl by Ohm Resistance this Spring. With 3 video singles, we decided to make a special one-off, limited Fire Red 7” to go along with the first single.

Since 2019, Mathlovsky has invited drummer Gregory Simons to perform at his live shows, to add another layer of punk & funk fueled acoustic drums.
Not replacing the electronic heavy hitting beats but by looking at his drumset as another instrument, Mathlovsky’s music has entered another realm.

As such, a new era has begun. Yassssin, the first album with Simons’ acoustic drums as an added weapon of dancefloor destruction, is the perfect representation of what Mathlovsky live is all about. After ten years of dwelling in the rave scene and band scene alike, Mathlovsky has fused all his influences and tastes into one cohesive album. Inviting his talented Belgian music friends to contribute a voice, an instrument and overall energy, this album is a ride to never forget.

For both ravers and moshers, Mathlovsky has crossed boundaries between worlds and begins this decade with a massive bang.

A year characterised by a pandemic, lockdowns, political ineptitude and oh, so much staying the fuck at home is enough to make anyone want to blow off a little steam. One overused piece of glib idiocy at the start of the Trump era was 'at least punk will be good', as though punk can only be good when it flips the bird to right-wing, authritarian shit-headery rather than amplifying anything else. Sure, there've been plenty of great records over the last four years, but sometimes (across the whole of 2020, for instance) the levels of anger, fear and frustration can be overwhelming and you need a little space to goof around. For some of us, though, goofing around is serious business - and here's a record to illustrate that perfectly. Smirk is the solo project of Public Eye's Nick Vicario, and while you'll hear similarities to his main outfit across these 12 excellent tracks (from the off, you can imagine how PE might refine garage-carved nuggets like 'S Construction'), here there's less sang-froid and more_ well, fun. The reference points you might expect are still there (Killed By Death comps and Wire, especially their 80s period, to name a couple), but with added scuzz and something even approaching joy - the whirling synths of 'Eyes Conversing' feel ominous, but they also convey a sense of delirious excitement. And dammit, it's all fucking cool too. With a name like Smirk, your first instinct might well be to wonder whether Vicario is laughing at us. The first line of the album (a defiant 'it's not funny') should tell you that this isn't the case, but the album certainly finds him in playful mood. The tasteful acoustic instrumental 'Lude 2' descends deliberately into farce as it speeds up and slows down like a turntable alternating speeds, or a record warping in real time.

Zwerm is a Belgian-Dutch electric guitar quartet (with a backyard rehearsal shed located in Antwerp) that operates along the borders between styles and traverses traditions that are typically not convergent. Zwerm rhymes Larry Polansky with Nadah El Shazly and are galvanized by the likes of guitars pioneers like The Velvet Underground and Sonic Youth, the microtonal DYI-er Harry Partch, Middle Eastern sonorities and the prog-madness of Kind Gizzard & the Lizard Wizard. ‘Musical adventure’ is not just a hollow cliché for this quartet, but a genuine commitment. Zwerm calls itself a ‘guitar quartet’, but that can be interpreted broadly as well as with a pinch of salt: “If we want to do something on instruments we don’t really master, we’ll just figure out a way to make it work.”
Toon Callier, Johannes Westendorp, Kobe van Cauwenberghe and Bruno Nelissen all met in 2007 while working on a project with Glenn Branca. A new guitar quartet was born and it became clear rather quickly that staying in the strictly contemporary compositions lane was not for this quartet-with-five-to-six-members (an organizational chart is available upon request).
An appetite for new and lasting collaborations has been a constant theme throughout their artistic parcours. The group has shared stages with theatrical producers like Walpurgis and Post uit Hessdalen, dancers such as Ecce and with the musicians Fred Frith, Stephen O’Malley, Shiva Feshareki, Rudy Trouvé, Mauro Pawlowski, Larry Polansky, Eric Thielemans, Yannis Kyriakides, François Sarhan, Serge Verstockt and Stefan Prins. These projects have not always translated into records, but they have been decisive in creating a unique musical approach. In 2015, when Zwerm was asked by De Handelsbeurs to collaborate with Fred Frith, they proceeded to pen a few new musical sketches over which Firth sublimely improvised. In 2018 ‘Badminton in Tehran’ was released, their first record that was made up completely of only the group’s compositions.
“a basket full of buttons here
and if you push the wrong one: fear
and if you push the right one: love
or maybe none of the above”
The route that Zwerm has taken is often defined by the question “What if... ?” - like a dart thrown at a musical map, not quite blindly, but naive enough to lead to unexpected endings.
“What if we play Renaissance pieces written by John Dowland, but instead of playing lutes we play these tunes with a Telecaster – and then jam it through effect pedals and an amplifier?”
“What if we connect one hundred guitar pedals and just leave our guitars at home?”
“What if we record a record with ten different one-page-pieces that we found on the Internet?”
In 2020 our metaphorical dart landed on “What if we tried microtonality?”.
‘Microtonality’ sounds a bit creepy, but actually there is nothing to be afraid of: there are no out-of- tune notes, just alternate notes. On the continents where Western musical theory is less stringently applied, microtonality is the rule, and has become the subject of many deep and thoughtfully written theories. However for Zwerm, this phenomenon occurs in many, often surprisingly lighthearted forms. A dilapidated piano that has settled into a beautiful microtonal tuning of its own accord, enthusiastic choral singing, a guitar whose three strings are tuned a quarter-tone higher, a saz (Turkishquarter-tone lute), a maddening guitar pedal, ...
"the dreams they were convicted for telling only lies reality came after for claiming to be wise what you don’t see is what you get just never light a spark I’m a crow in the dark”
“And… what if we work with a drummer?” Enter Karen Willems - dummer, extraordinaire, and ardent player in groups, projects and collaborations galore. One chance meeting and the deal was done. It was obvious before the start that Willems was the versatile and creative percussionist-in-a-toy-store necessary for this project. And in the studio, to our delight, she demonstrated an easy dexterity when switching quickly from one idea to the next.
At the reins behind the scenes was producer Rudy Trouvé, who – during previous sessions for ‘Badminton in Terhran’, when the classically trained guitarists went completely off the rails, staring deeply and forlornly into their scores, looking for answers – was able to pinpoint the problem and get the wagons rolling in the right direction again. Completing the team were Mark Dedecker (recording)and Joris Calluwaerts (mixing).
The results are in and it’s called ‘ Great Expectations’ – a title that, in several ways, fits perfectly with these strange times.‘Great Expectations’ goes wide! Zwerm is at its best when it can run along the borders between style and across traditions that otherwise would not necessarily intersect. The most straightforward rockers have a proggy tinge while the dreamy psychedelic songs lean more toward Richard Youngs. And if a nice melody dared come to close to becoming a ‘Kit-Katjingle’, then barbs-a-la-Pere-Ubu were trailed, tracked, found and promptly embedded. ‘Heavy Machinery’ sits neatly somewhere between Captain Beefheart and Richard Wagner, and ‘On My Way To Aguno’, set to an Iranian folk song chord progression, grew into a hyper-personal lullaby. Zwerm used the saz (Turkish lute) and the sinter (Moroccan gnawa bass instrument) without falling into pastiche psychedelia, but you can still sense the orient.

It’s hard to believe that it’s been over 30 years since Candy Dulfer rose to fame with her high-profile collaborations with Dave Stewart (the worldwide number 1 smash “Lily was here”) and of course the legendary Prince, whose tongue-in-cheek recommendation (“When I want sax, I call Candy”) in the “Partyman” video made the world sit up and notice the young, glamorous and talented sax player at his side. Candy has been fortunate to work - both in the studio and on stage - with some of the biggest names in music, including Van Morrison, Maceo Parker, Sheila E., Mavis Staples, Lionel Richie, Beyoncé, Pink Floyd, Chaka Khan, Aretha Franklin, and many others. Despite these high-profile collaborations, Candy mainly focused on her solo career, starting her own band at age 13 and touring the world ever since.

Released in 2007, Long Road Out of Eden is Eagles’ seventh and most recent studio album. Previously released on a limited vinyl run, the album is currently certified x2 platinum in the UK and x7 platinum in the US.

The album includes “No More Cloudy Days,” which is still performed as part of their current set, and includes singles “How Long” and “Busy Being Fabulous”.


[a] A1. NO MORE WALKS IN THE WOOD [2:00]
[b] A2. HOW LONG [3:15]
[c] A3. BUSY BEING FABULOUS [4:21]
[d] A4. WHAT DO I DO WITH MY HEART [3:54]
[e] A5. GUILTY OF THE CRIME [3:44]
[f] A6. I DON’T WANT TO HEAR ANYMORE [4:21]
[g] B1. WAITING IN THE WEEDS [7:46]
[h] B2. NO MORE CLOUDY DAYS [4:04]
[i] B3. FAST COMPANY [4:01]
[j] B4. DO SOMETHING [5:13]
[k] B5. YOU ARE NOT ALONE [2:22]
[l] C1. LONG ROAD OUT OF EDEN [10:17]
[m] C2. I DREAMED THERE WAS NO WAR [1:38]
[n] C3. SOMEBODY [4:10]
[o] C4. FRAIL GRASP ON THE BIG PICTURE [5:47]
[p] D1. LAST GOOD TIME IN TOWN [7:07]
[q] D2. I LOVE TO WATCH A WOMAN DANCE [3:16]
[r] D3. BUSINESS AS USUAL [5:32]
[s] D4. CENTER OF THE UNIVERSE [3:42]
[t] D5. IT'S YOUR WORLD NOW [4:20]

Previously unreleased live recording of the great tenor saxophonist Dexter Gordon, alongside a star-studded line-up - bassist Niels-Henning Ørsted Pedersen, pianist Tete Montoliu and drummer Alex Riel performing at the classic Copenhagen venue Jazzhus Montmartre, which has now closed. Four tracks from this recording are now available on vinyl for the first time.
Dexter Gordon (1923 - 1990) was an American jazz tenor saxophonist and an Academy
Award-nominated actor (Round Midnight, Warner Bros, 1986). He is regarded as one
of the first and most important musicians to adapt the bebop musical language of
people like Charlie Parker, Dizzy Gillespie, and Bud Powell to the tenor saxophone. His
studio and live performance career were both extensive and multifaceted, spanning
over 50 years in recorded jazz history.
“Gordon was in great form, and his supple, mercurial style, with a tendency to phrase
just behind the beat, would have been pretty demanding, but Riel, Montoliu and
Ørsted Pedersen rise splendidly to the occasion. You can tell that Gordon feels at home
from the number of outrageous quotations he inserts into his solos, but the warm, dry
breadth of his tone, clarity of improvised line and sheer command of the instrument
are uplifting.” - The Observer

Bad Colours is the moniker of London-born, Maryland-raised, Brooklyn-based DJ and producer Ibe Soliman. With influences of garage from both sides of the Atlantic as well as funk, post-disco, proto-house and rap samples; his debut album 'PINK' is set for release by Bastard Jazz on 26th February 2021.

The drive to record an album came about while isolating at home in Flatbush during the COVID-19 pandemic. Inspired by some rough ideas and samples that friends sent him, Ibe focussed his attention on making music. From time well spent soaking up and storing sounds from clubs around the world, Ibe found, now with the time to dedicate towards it, the tracks flooding out. Taking cues from early Trax records and Larry Heard, the UKG musicality of MJ Cole, Todd Edwards' vocal sampling techniques, the brashness of Bmore, and an encyclopedia of disco, funk and soul knowledge; Ibe got to work and quickly compiled more than enough tracks for a full-length release.

Flowing from the album intro 'PINK!', first single 'Cookin' vibes over a Chris Faust sample and saxophone from south California virtuoso Carras Paton. 'Feelin' Like' was originally built around a short vocal sample by Jarv Dee, but grew to include additional lyrics on black power from the Seattle rapper after he heard it: "Dancey stuff with a message" says Ibe.

Slow jam 'Heyyy', with its preemptive lyrical synths, bridges to the album's next single 'Get You Off'. Ibe had been listening to a lot of Marvin Gaye - particularly 'I Want You' - during lockdown, getting into the production and vocals. After writing the "I just wanna get you off" hooks, he handed the track over to talented singer, actor and playwright Marcus Harmon who wrote the verses and provided the stunning vocal performance.

Keeping the sensual vibe, 'Skin To Skin' samples vocals from 'Private Play' by Wash 'N' Set, also produced by Ibe, with the Chris Isaak-esque guitar lines by Lex from Foreign Tapes. Made late at night, CMYK reminded Ibe of driving at night in the rain in NYC, where the colors bleed together on the wet road while 'Boss', the first track made for the album, is based around a Sunny Jones sample. The closing track 'Feel' was made at the peak of Black Lives Matter protests. "I just wanted something hard sounding," says Ibe.

Known for his residencies at some of New York's top venues, Ibe has been rocking crowds as a DJ for over a decade, and has shared the decks with the likes of James Murphy, Mark Ronson, and Q-Tip. He's performed alongside Wiz Khalifa, Snoop Dogg, Pusha T, and Young Thug, to name a few. In high demand as a private party curator, he's helped set the tone for Jeff Koons, FKA Twigs, Justin Timberlake, Travis Scott, and Usher. When Ibe's not behind the decks, he's in the lab, where he's produced for Kendrick Lamar, Faith Evans, Keyshia Cole, and Rick Ross, among others.

Back to the 70's with12 killer tracks taken from varous emblematic Blaxpoitation movies.

Since his 2012 debut as Heathered Pearls, Jakub Alexander has constructed art — music, objects, installations, performances — as a way of re-imagining fragments of his past and mapping ideas for his future. The Polish-born, Michigan-raised, New York-based artist and producer sees imagery and narrative framework as fluid components to his craft. Alexander’s first album, Loyal, mimicked the hypnotic motions of ocean waves at night, offering melodic, loop-based ambient music as a tribute to the tasteful influence of his mother and aunt. The second Heathered Pearls album, Body Complex, found inspiration from comfort, imperfection, and visions of interior architecture, transforming Loyal’s soft textures into driving 4/4 figures, glacial tone drifts, and starry synth plateaus. His 2017 EP, Detroit, MI 1997 - 2001, reflected on a formative era through ephem- eral dance music. The third Heathered Pearls full-length,


Cast, returns to moodier loop formats joined by the distinctly new presence of the spo- ken word. The move mirrors the multitudes of its namesake: collaborators comprise a cast, healing in the bind of a cast, complex emotions and the shadows they cast. Alexander started work on Cast when living in Berlin and in Queens.

“I hit a wall listening to these tracks when they were instrumental.” This is where he diverged from previous modes, deciding to integrate speech. With a healthy distaste for aspects of performance art, he invited strictly non-scripted recordings, a series of anti-performances. This new format adds a surprising human element to music that has previously operated as sea-shapes or infrastructure. These flashes of language, Alexander’s close friends speaking about things, narratively and cerebrally, casually and profoundly, turn the distinctive Heathered Pearls sound into some- thing surprisingly gritty, tangible, and in certain sweeps, cinematic. It is as if the world outside of these compositions bleeds into the music, casting their verbal being from just off the surface, like the album’s cover artwork where the light hits the plexi object but misses the wall.

Alexander sees his covers as naturally unfinished workstations; the gauzed and patinaed copper on Cast continues in this philosophy. This is all to say Cast deals with absence as much a presence. Among the guest storytellers is Alexander’s friend and tourmate Nick Murphy (formerly Chet Faker), who unwinds a series of tender observations on “Basic Needs.” The swirling synthesizer immerses a series of empathies; feeling like an egg yolk, a window’s view, his love for the color yellow, and wanting yellow to love him back.

We are happy to presend you some of the labels best releases back on vinyl! Starting with one of the most wanted produced by Roland Casper and Rob Acid from 1995! Re-mastered and highly recommended!

It’s nearly a decade since William Doyle handed a CD-R demo to the Quietus co-founder John Doran at a gig, who loved it so much he set up a label to release Doyle’s debut EP (as East India Youth). Doyle’s debut album, Total Strife Forever, followed in 2014, as did a nomination for the Mercury Music Prize. A year later, he was signed to XL, touring the world and about to release his second album – all by the age of 25.

After self-releasing four ambient and instrumental albums, Doyle’s third full-length record – and the first under his own name – Your Wilderness Revisited arrived to ecstatic reviews in 2019: Line of Best Fit described it as “a dazzlingly beautiful triumph of intention” and Metro declared it an album not only of the year, but “of the century”. Just over a year later, as he turns 30, Doyle is back with Great Spans of Muddy Time.

Born from accident but driven forward by instinct, Great Spans was built from the remnants of a catastrophic hard-drive failure. With his work saved only to cassette tape, Doyle was forced to accept the recordings as they were – a sharp departure from his process on Your Wilderness Revisited, which took four long years to craft toward perfection. “Instead of feeling a loss that I could no longer craft these pieces into flawless ‘Works of Art’, I felt intensely liberated that they had been set free from my ceaseless tinkering,” Doyle says.

“The album this turned out to be – and that I’ve wanted to make for ages – is a kind of Englishman-gone-mad, scrambling around the verdancy of the country’s pastures looking for some sense,” says Doyle. “It has its seeds in Robert Wyatt, early Eno, Robyn Hitchcock, and Syd Barrett.” Doyle credits Bowie’s ever-influential Berlin trilogy, but also highlights a much less expected muse: Monty Don, presenter of the BBC programme Gardener’s World, Doyle’s lockdown addiction.

“I became obsessed with Monty Don. I like his manner and there's something about him I relate to. He once described periods of depression in his life as consisting of ‘nothing but great spans of muddy time’. When I read that quote I knew it would be the title of this record,” Doyle says. “Something about the sludgy mulch of the album’s darker moments, and its feel of perpetual autumnal evening, seemed to fit so well with those words. I would also be lying if I said it didn’t chime with my mental health experiences as well.”

Lead single “And Everything Changed (But I Feel Alright)” is representative of the album as a whole: eclectic and unpredictable, but also playful and properly danceable. On top of the gently pulsing electronics, soothing harmonies and glowing melodies, there’s a ripping guitar solo that ricochets around the song like a pinball. “I wanted to get back into the craft of writing individual songs rather than being concerned with overarching concepts,” Doyle says. Elsewhere there’s the synth pop strut of “Nothing At All”, pulsating static on “Semi-Bionic”, incandescent synths and enveloping soundscapes in “Who Cares”, and the ambient glitch groove of “New Uncertainties”.

Great Spans of Muddy Time is a beautiful ode to the power of accident, instinct and intuition. The result, however, is far from an anomaly: this celebration of the imperfect album is one that required years of honed craft and dedicated focus to achieve, “For the first time in my career, the distance between what I hear and what the listener hears is paper-thin,” Doyle says. “Perhaps therein reveals a deeper truth that the perfectionist brain can often dissolve.”













m 13. [a sea of thoughts behind it]

Calgary songwriter Chad VanGaalen’s new album, ‘World’s Most Stressed Out
Gardener’, is a psychedelic bumper crop. A collection of tunes that does away with
obsessiveness, the anxiety of perfectionism, in favour of freshness and immediacy -
capturing the world as it was met while recording alone at home over a period of
years. “Don’t overthink it,” VanGaalen told himself again and again, despite the
push/pull love/hate of his relationship with songwriting. “I’m always trying to get
outside of the song - but then I realize I love the song.”
This is a record that gleams with VanGaalen’s musical signatures: found sound,
reverb, polychromatic folk music that is by turns cartoonish and hyperphysical - like
ultra-magnified footage of a virus or a leaf. Apparently, the album began life as a
“pretty minimal” flute record. (There’s only a vestige now, on ‘Flute Peace’, one of
three instrumentals.) Later it became an electronic record “for a while” and finally,
“right at the last second,” it “turned into a pile of garbage.” The good kind of
garbage: glinting, useful, free. Music as compost - leaves and branches ready to be
re-ingested by the earth, turned into a flower.
Throughout these 40 minutes, VanGaalen floats from mania to solace to oblivion,
searching for zen in all the wrong places. “Turn up the radio / I think we’re dead,”
he sings on ‘Nothing Is Strange’; or, on the inside-out rocker ‘Nightmare Scenario’:
“You’re stressed out when you should be feeling very well.” The singer’s mental
landscape is rotting and redemptive, beautiful in spite of itself - and his soundscapes
reflect this fertile decay.
He has been influenced by his instrumental work on TV scores (Dream Corp’s third
season began this fall) but still “nothing can really replace the human voice,” he
admits. Like Arthur Russell or Syd Barrett, it’s VanGaalen’s vocals that shine a path
through the swampland - from the cello-lashed ‘Water Brother’ to ‘Starlight’’s
krautrock pipe-dream.
These days, VanGaalen cherishes the privacy of the studio, the capacity to wander
around, get distracted, and “move at the speed of life.” Whereas once he would
obsess over mic techniques, now he puts the microphone in the same place every
time - trying to capture a song quickly, the idea at its heart. He’ll act on his
infatuations - for the flute, a squeaky clarinet, his basement’s copper plumbing
(remade into xylophones for ‘Samurai Sword’) - and then he’ll try to get out, “veering
away from responsibility,” before he overdoes his stay.
In the end, it’s like gardening. You have to live with your horrible decision-making;
the weather’s going to mess with you if it wants to; and if you plant a hundred
heads of broccoli, “now you gotta eat a hundred heads of broccoli - or watch them
go to seed.” But mostly VanGaalen just tries to be a deer: “I remember seeing some
deer come out in the Okanagan Valley once,” he says, “watching them wait for a
sunbeam to hit a perfect bunch of grapes - and then eating them right out of the
sunbeam. I’d recommend that.”
Initial LP copies pressed on clear with gold, red and blue high melt coloured vinyl.

It took Sibille Attar five years and a lot of soul searching to produce Paloma’s Hand, the 2018 EP that served as the long-awaited follow-up to her debut album, Sleepyhead. Both that record and her first EP, 2012’s The Flower’s Bed, seemingly left her with the world at her feet, with widespread critical acclaim, television appearances and a Swedish Grammy nomination for Best Newcomer. The years that followed, though, involved both creative and personal turmoil, and left her feeling increasingly adrift musically as the uglier side of the industry reared its head.

“For a long time in my life, I tried to sit in certain constellations to please other people,” she says. “And it didn’t work, because I could only do it for a little while before I’d get frustrated and want to do things my own way. There was a time when I felt like I couldn’t trust the business, and it was draining me of my love for the music. Eventually, I realised you can’t live your life trying to fit into somebody else’s mould all the time.”

Paloma’s Hand, a six-track pop odyssey that slalomed through genres, brought years of struggle to a long-overdue end. Just as importantly, though, it served as a much-needed palate cleanser for Attar, breaking through the barrier of writer’s block. Just two years later, she’s back with her second full-length, the aptly-titled A History of Silence, a reference to that long period of searching for her voice. “I thought about calling it A History of Violence, because in many ways, the album is like a violent attempt to tell my own story when I’ve been silenced,” she explains.

Key to the pace at which she was able to work this time around was a realisation that she functions best on her own - “I just felt like, “fuck it - I can’t be bothered dealing with other people and their opinions.” Accordingly, A History of Silence was written, recorded and mixed entirely by Attar herself, and where she needed a little bit of outside help - sweeping strings on the epic "Dream State", for instance - she penned the arrangements herself and had friends record them exactly as directed. “It seems like that’s the way I have to work to get things done, and it helped things come together really quickly - the first song was done at the start of 2019, and the last one was finished around the time the pandemic was taking hold. It was frantically fast, but I work one song at a time, so it was never too chaotic."

The album never sounds too chaotic, either; like Paloma's Hand, it takes a broad approach to pop, but one that’s anchored by the key through-lines of sharp melodies and atmospheric soundscapes. Largely recorded in Attar’s Stockholm apartment, A History of Silence finds room for everything from sparse alt-rock ("Go Hard or Go Home") to spacey, electropop (the Madonna cover "Oh Father"), via the more up-tempo likes of "Somebody’s Watching". “On some tracks, I had really specific influences in mind,” says Attar. “There’s a lot of eighties stuff going on, and I was deliberately tracking down those kinds of synthesizers to try to capture that sound.”

Attar shies away from talking in too much detail about the themes that run through A History of Silence - she wants the record to be received as universally as possible - but it’s clear that the album marks the beginning of a hugely exciting new chapter after the rebirth that Paloma’s Hand represented. “If anything, it’s like a preacher’s album,” she says. “I’m preaching to myself, teaching myself, telling myself off in the lyrics. It’s about accepting loss of power, changing expectations, and getting rid of some heavy baggage. That’s the way I made the album, and it meant I had no limits - every single idea I had, I tried. When I said I was falling out of love with music, that feels like a very long time ago now.”