Cerca:ware

Numbers will release ‘Clear’, the debut album by FFT, on 24th June 2022.The result of three years of focused writing and programming by the London-based producer, ‘Clear’ is deeply psychedelic, defined by a mature sense of melody and structures crafted at a monumental scale.

Though FFT has previously released a handful of tracks under various names, it wasn’t until 2017’s ‘FFT1’ EP on theUncertainty Principle label that his production talents began to fuse into a distinct and personal style, especially evident in FFT’s‘Regional/Loss’ EP on The Trilogy Tapes in 2019, multiple releases on Bruk Records and2021’s ‘Disturb Roqe,’also released on Numbers.Through it all, FFT has mastered a complex sense of mood catalyzed by sound itself: He builds patches and presets from scratch, and feels these synths and software have their own objectives and reactions, creating a kind of compositional feedback loop.The result is an album that brings to mind a collision of electronic pioneers like Delia Derbyshire and Bernard Parmegiani, 2000’s braindance, the Max-imized wares of an OPN or Objekt and the rough rhythmatics of SND or Mika Vainio

The layering of sonic elements and intentions is starkly audible across these nine tracks.They can be seismically concussive and grandiose, but granular and fluid - echoing the Icelandic volcanic eruption that features in the artwork photography byGeorge Cowan. ‘Clear (Eight-Circuit Mix)’sets a euphoric tone immediately accelerated by the jagged sounds and vocal textures of ‘Redeemer’. ‘3 Sided’ channels hyper-urbanity from its almost entirely analogue palette, and by contrast ‘Disturb Roqe 2’is bracingly digital, gyrating in random cycles between clustered percussion, metallic splinters of audio and artificial vocal tics.

Opening side two, ‘You’ve Changed’ adheres to a more abrasive core, while ‘Heal’ and ‘Heal (Alt Mix)’evolved out of linked pieces in FFT’s live sets that grew into complete tracks in the months before Covid-19.The significant intensity of ‘Heal’ in particular was refined during strobe-heavy live performances and is the album at its most turbulent, the claustrophobia interrupted by dazzling arpeggios.The overall impact of 'Clear' is cinematic and precise, marking the arrival of an impressive electronic musician who is not new but has come into his own as a fully developed artist

Dark Entries presents a reissue of Shawn Pittman’s 1989 Dreams, an obscure and highly sought-after private press gem produced and written by Art Forest. An undersung figure in the development of the late 80’s Detroit techno sound, Forest collaborated with, produced, or penned material for many of the key players in the movement, including Inner City, Suburban Knight, and the Belleville Three themselves (on Kreem’s “Triangle of Love”). This reissue gives Forest’s own productions some shine while providing a thrill for both dancers and collectors.

Dreams features two songs, both written and produced by Art Forest and featuring Shawn Pittman on vocals. The A-side contains two mixes of “Dreams”, a smooth R&B/modern soul number driven by Pittman’s vocal. While the song is undeniably radio-friendly, it contains some of the hallmarks of the Detroit techno sound – sparse arrangement, lush reverb, and booming bass. On the B-side, we are treated to two different versions of the clubbier “I’m Losing Control”. The original mix leans towards boogie/freestyle, with syncopated 909 beats and sassy synth vamps, and wouldn’t sound out of place next to Forest’s work with Inner City. The Extended-Bass-ment Club Mix strips things down and dubs them out, leaving us with shards of bass synth, brooding strings, and Pittman’s vocals eerily warped to the edge of recognition; a perfect late-night warehouse anthem.

All songs were remastered by George Horn at Fantasy Studios. The sleeve is a replica of the original cover art. Also included is a 2-sided postcard with lyrics and photos of Art.

Following the sublime smash debut "X17", LA-based label Elbow Grease head conductor Dave Aju continues on his righteous piece-by-piece journey toward a multi-genre multiverse, where deep musical roots come together in kaleidoscopic expression, and unfakeable funk reigns supreme.

"Spacio Tempo" picks up where we last left off, though with a notable drop in bpm as the title implies, with a rolling 4/4 textural tapestry that combines pulsating layers of soulful synth work, effervescent live percussion, and heavenly strings into a dense yet open-as-the-night-sky extended gem yet again. Just as the machine patterns of near-equator rhythms bubble over and begin to lock into a hypnotic groove, a bold left turn into a dank latin jazz noir vibraphone solo and SH-101 duet tango ensues, before landing us safely back at home base - right on time, at its own spacial pace.

As per the Elbow Grease release recipe so far, the B1 cut offers DJs a more driving flex, this time in the form of the "Acido Tempo Mix": a raw 303-driven take on the original which will undoubtedly stomp its way fiercely thru many bass bins in sweaty basements and warehouses worldwide. Finally the B2 blessing "Domingo Dub" closes things out, removing all but the highest vibes as an ambient drifting and uplifting take on the main theme, where the faintest of vocal tones, space echoes, and light percussive touches leave us elated in a West Coast, with subtle splashes from the D, sunset dream. Another solid single turned three-tracker sure-shot from EG.

Without a brutal evaluation of their own becoming, TV Priest might have never made their second album. Heralded as the next big thing in post-punk, they were established as a bolshy, sharp-witted outfit, the kind that starts movements with their political ire. There was of course truth in that, but it was a suit that quickly felt heavy on its wearer's shoulders, leaving little room for true vulnerability. "A lot of it did feel like I was being really careful and a bit at arm's length," says vocalist Charlie Drinkwater. "I think maybe I was not fully aware of the role I was taking. I had to take a step back and realize that what we were presenting was quite far away from the opinion of myself that I had. Now, I just want to be honest." Having made music together since their teenage years, the London four-piece piqued press attention in late 2019 with their first gig as a newly solidified group, a raucous outing in the warehouse district of Hackney Wick. Debut single "House of York" followed with a blistering critique of monarchist patriotism, and they were signed to Sub Pop for their debut album. When Uppers arrived in the height of a global pandemic, it reaped praise from critics and fans alike for its "dystopian doublespeak," but the band - Drinkwater, guitarist Alex Sprogis, producer, bass and keys player Nic Bueth and drummer Ed Kelland - were at home like the rest of us, drinking cups of tea and marking time via government-sanctioned daily exercise. As such, the personal and professional landmark of its release felt "both colossal and minuscule" dampened by the inability to share it live. "It was a real gratification and really cathartic, but on the other hand, it was really strange, and not great for my mental health" admits Drinkwater. "I wasn't prepared, and I hadn't necessarily expected it to reach as many people as it did." As such, My Other People maintains a strong sense of earth-rooted emotion, taking advantage of the opportunity to physically connect. Using "Saintless" (the closing song from Uppers) as something of a starting point, Drinkwater set about crafting lyrics that allowed him to articulate a deeper sense of personal truth, using music as a vessel to communicate with his bandmates about his depleting mental health. "Speaking very candidly, it was written at a time and a place where I was not, I would say, particularly well," he says. "There was a lot of things that had happened to myself and my family that were quite troubling moments.Despite that I do think the record has our most hopeful moments too; a lot of me trying to set myself reminders for living, just everyday sentiments to try and get myself out of the space I was in." "It was a bit of a moment for all of us where we realised that we can make something that, to us at least, feels truly beautiful," agrees Bueth. "Brutality and frustration are only a part of that puzzle, and despite a lot of us feeling quite disconnected at the time, overwhelmingly beautiful things were also still happening." This tension between existential fear born from the constant uncertainties of life, and an affirmative, cathartic urge to seize the moment, is central to My Other People, a record that heals by providing space for recognition, a ground zero in which you're welcome to stay awhile but which ultimately only leads up and out. For TV Priest, it is a follow-up that feels truly, properly them; free of bravado, unnecessary bluster or any audience pressure to commit solely to their original sound.

Without a brutal evaluation of their own becoming, TV Priest might have never made their second album. Heralded as the next big thing in post-punk, they were established as a bolshy, sharp-witted outfit, the kind that starts movements with their political ire. There was of course truth in that, but it was a suit that quickly felt heavy on its wearer's shoulders, leaving little room for true vulnerability. "A lot of it did feel like I was being really careful and a bit at arm's length," says vocalist Charlie Drinkwater. "I think maybe I was not fully aware of the role I was taking. I had to take a step back and realize that what we were presenting was quite far away from the opinion of myself that I had. Now, I just want to be honest." Having made music together since their teenage years, the London four-piece piqued press attention in late 2019 with their first gig as a newly solidified group, a raucous outing in the warehouse district of Hackney Wick. Debut single "House of York" followed with a blistering critique of monarchist patriotism, and they were signed to Sub Pop for their debut album. When Uppers arrived in the height of a global pandemic, it reaped praise from critics and fans alike for its "dystopian doublespeak," but the band - Drinkwater, guitarist Alex Sprogis, producer, bass and keys player Nic Bueth and drummer Ed Kelland - were at home like the rest of us, drinking cups of tea and marking time via government-sanctioned daily exercise. As such, the personal and professional landmark of its release felt "both colossal and minuscule" dampened by the inability to share it live. "It was a real gratification and really cathartic, but on the other hand, it was really strange, and not great for my mental health" admits Drinkwater. "I wasn't prepared, and I hadn't necessarily expected it to reach as many people as it did." As such, My Other People maintains a strong sense of earth-rooted emotion, taking advantage of the opportunity to physically connect. Using "Saintless" (the closing song from Uppers) as something of a starting point, Drinkwater set about crafting lyrics that allowed him to articulate a deeper sense of personal truth, using music as a vessel to communicate with his bandmates about his depleting mental health. "Speaking very candidly, it was written at a time and a place where I was not, I would say, particularly well," he says. "There was a lot of things that had happened to myself and my family that were quite troubling moments.Despite that I do think the record has our most hopeful moments too; a lot of me trying to set myself reminders for living, just everyday sentiments to try and get myself out of the space I was in." "It was a bit of a moment for all of us where we realised that we can make something that, to us at least, feels truly beautiful," agrees Bueth. "Brutality and frustration are only a part of that puzzle, and despite a lot of us feeling quite disconnected at the time, overwhelmingly beautiful things were also still happening." This tension between existential fear born from the constant uncertainties of life, and an affirmative, cathartic urge to seize the moment, is central to My Other People, a record that heals by providing space for recognition, a ground zero in which you're welcome to stay awhile but which ultimately only leads up and out. For TV Priest, it is a follow-up that feels truly, properly them; free of bravado, unnecessary bluster or any audience pressure to commit solely to their original sound.

Second Sub Pop album by acclaimed UK act TV Priest finds them building on the
post-punk of their early material and maturing into a powerhouse of tense, politically
caustic, and thoughtful rock music.
Without a brutal evaluation of their own becoming, TV Priest might have never made
their second album. Heralded as the next big thing in post-punk, they were
established as a bolshy, sharp-witted outfit, the kind that starts movements with their
political ire. There was of course truth in that, but it was a suit that quickly felt heavy
on its wearer’s shoulders, leaving little room for true vulnerability. “A lot of it did feel
like I was being really careful and a bit at arm's length,” says vocalist Charlie
Drinkwater. “I think maybe I was not fully aware of the role I was taking. I had to take
a step back and realize that what we were presenting was quite far away from the
opinion of myself that I had. Now, I just want to be honest.”
Having made music together since their teenage years, the London four-piece piqued
press attention in late 2019 with their first gig as a newly solidified group, a raucous
outing in the warehouse district of Hackney Wick. Debut single ‘House of York’
followed with a blistering critique of monarchist patriotism, and they were signed to
Sub Pop for their debut album. When ‘Uppers’ arrived in the height of a global
pandemic, it reaped praise from critics and fans alike for its “dystopian doublespeak,”
but the band - Drinkwater, guitarist Alex Sprogis, producer, bass and keys player Nic
Bueth and drummer Ed Kelland - were at home like the rest of us, drinking cups of
tea and marking time via government-sanctioned daily exercise. As such, the
personal and professional landmark of its release felt “both colossal and minuscule”
dampened by the inability to share it live. “It was a real gratification and really
cathartic, but on the other hand, it was really strange, and not great for my mental
health,” admits Drinkwater. “I wasn’t prepared, and I hadn’t necessarily expected it to
reach as many people as it did.”
As such, ‘My Other People’ maintains a strong sense of earth-rooted emotion, taking
advantage of the opportunity to physically connect. Using ‘Saintless’ (the closing
song from ‘Uppers’) as something of a starting point, Drinkwater set about crafting
lyrics that allowed him to articulate a deeper sense of personal truth, using music as
a vessel to communicate with his bandmates about his depleting mental health.
“Speaking very candidly, it was written at a time and a place where I was not, I would
say, particularly well,” he says. “There was a lot of things that had happened to
myself and my family that were quite troubling moments. Despite that I do think the
record has our most hopeful moments too; a lot of me trying to set myself reminders
for living, just everyday sentiments to try and get myself out of the space I was in.”
“It was a bit of a moment for all of us where we realised that we can make something
that, to us at least, feels truly beautiful,” agrees Bueth. “Brutality and frustration are
only a part of that puzzle, and despite a lot of us feeling quite disconnected at the
time, overwhelmingly beautiful things were also still happening.”
This tension between existential fear born from the constant uncertainties of life, and
an affirmative, cathartic urge to seize the moment, is central to ‘My Other People’, a
record that heals by providing space for recognition, a ground zero in which you’re
welcome to stay awhile but which ultimately only leads up and out. For TV Priest, it is
a follow-up that feels truly, properly them; free of bravado, unnecessary bluster or
any audience pressure to commit solely to their original sound.

Dark techno EP by the prolific and versatile Finnish producer Empath. Four hard and distinctive tracks inspired by cold cyberpunk fiction and built for sweaty warehouses.>

Lazy Jones und Hazenberg sind zurück auch wenn sie für 99% der Deutschrap Fans nie da waren. Nach „Unter einem Berg“ (2021) erscheint mit „Über einem Berg“ demnächst das zweite Album des Producer/MC-Duos aus Köln. Für Fans von Retrogott, Twit One und Kapitalismuskritik die swingt. Artwork: Julian Kramer. Limitierte auf 500 Stück. Mit freundlicher Unterstützung von A.U.D.D.A. Records und Melting Pot Music.

BLEEP was the hype par excellence at the beginning of the techno movement in 1990/91. BLEEP – inspired by the beeping sound of small toy robots – stood for a phase of good mood and sounds that had never existed before. LFO with their groundbreaking track of the same name and Tricky Disco were two protagonists of those happy days.

More than 30 years later, Jürgen Laarmann (editor of the legendary Frontpage Magazine 89-97, promoter of Love Parade and Mayday 91-97, Bash Rec. 91-94) had the thought that nothing is missing in current electronic dance music as much as bleep.

The idea came about when discussing how to create a soundtrack for the art and techno hype of the day and the crypto art moving currenting stirring up the art market. The comeback of bleeps in a new guise is surely a tried and true remedy: the Bleep Gigaverse makes the blockchain shake.

With his old friend and Bash Records buddy Mijk van Dijk, Laarmann developed the NFT anthem with the striking Fazer bullet intro and a fat 2022 bleep that has been extensively tested on post-Corona dancefloors. Club legend Justus Köhncke (Whirlpool Productions among others) himself a big Bleep fan and Laarmann’s neighbor, contributed a house mix. Most recently, they managed to bring the great Michael Wells – the Godfather of Bleep into the Bleep Gigaverse. He contributes as Tricky Disco with all new bleeps and also with a Hardstyle mix, so the EP offers a spectrum with really different mixes.

May it bleep forever now!

By Mijk van Dijk & Jürgen Laarmann
BLEEP war für wenige Monate zum Beginn des Technomovements in 1990/91 der Hype schlechthin. BLEEP – angelehnt an das fiependen Sound von kleinen Spielzeugrobotern – stand für eine Phase guter Laune und Klängen, die es nie zuvor gegeben hatte. LFO mit ihrem bahnbrechenden gleichnamigen Track und Tricky Disco waren zwei Protagonisten jener glücklichen Tage.

Mehr als 30 Jahre später hatte Jürgen Laarmann (Editor des legendären Frontpage Magazins 89-97, Veranstalter von Love Parade und Mayday 91-97, Bash Rec. 91-94) den Gedanken, dass nichts der aktuellen elektronischen Dance Musik so sehr fehlt wie der Bleep.

Die Idee entstand, als man darüber diskutierte, wie man einen Soundtrack für den Kunst- und Technohype dieser Tage erschaffen könnte, jene Kryptokunst, die den Kunstmarkt aufwirbelte. Das Comeback der Bleeps in neuem Gewand ist das probate Mittel: das Bleep Gigaverse lässt die Blockchain erbeben.

Mit seinem alten Freund und Bash Records Kumpel Mijk van Dijk entwickelte Laarmann die NFT Hymne mit dem markanten Fazer-Geschoss Intro und einem fetten 2022er Bleep, der auf den Post-Corona Dancefloors ausgiebig getestet wurde. Club Legende Justus Köhncke (u.a. Whirlpool Productions), selbst großer Bleep Fan und Laarmann‘s Nachbar, steuerte einen housigen Mix bei. Zuletzt gelang es ihnen, mit dem großen Michael Wells den Godfather of Bleep ins Bleep Gigaverse zu holen. Er steuert einen NFT Tricky Disco mit ganz neuen Bleeps und einen Hardstyle Mix bei, so dass die EP ein Spektrum mit wirklich unterschiedlichen Mixen bietet.

May it bleep forever now!

By Mijk van Dijk & Jürgen Laarmann

Zum 50. Jahrestages des Albums erscheint ”Madman Across The Water (50th Anniversary Deluxe Edition) ” in vier verschiedenen Formaten. Alle Formate enthalten Bob Ludwigs definitives Remastering des Hauptalbums von 2016.

Die Super Deluxe Version (3CD/1BR) enthält 18 bisher unveröffentlichte Tracks, seltenes Material aus dieser Zeit, Klavierdemos des Albums und den Originalton des 1972 ausgestrahlten BBC-Konzerts Sounds For Saturday. Die Blu-Ray enthält einen 5.1-Mix von Greg Penny sowie die Sounds For Saturday und seinen Auftritt beim Old Grey Whistle Test von 1971. Die Tracks des Super Deluxe CD/BR-Sets werden auf dem 4LP Set erhältlich sein.

Das Box-Set enthält einen ausführlichen historischen Essay mit Interviews mit vielen, die an der Entstehung des Albums beteiligt waren, sowie Erinnerungsstücke und Kunstwerke aus dem Rocket-Archiv.

Das Album erscheint als 2CD, Ltd. 3CD + Blu-Ray und Ltd. 4LP Vinyl Box.

We welcome back Stockholm house stalwart Viggo Dyst for his second contribution to our Classic Cuts series: an uplifting cut of five melodic tracks, including a remix from SNF mainstay, Earth Trax.

Tech-house banger 'These Knits' kicks off proceedings, with cosmic undertones that imbue it with a sense of buoyancy and playfulness. On the flip, Earth Trax teases out the track's cooler elements, introducing a more definitive pulse and replacing the melody's warmth with a greater sense of unease: catch this one reverberating around a cavernous warehouse. 'Promises' maintains the driving propulsion, introducing an acid melody which lends it anthemic grandeur before the sultry whisper of cymbals and female vocals on the modest deep house track 'CAT' strip things right back. Finally, the ambient closer 'Bubble Wrap' pays testament to Viggo Dyst's musical ambidexterity and his capacity for creating atmosphere with a full-bodied soundscape and rich tonal depth.

These Knits EP drops 10th June 2022 via Shall Not Fade

Fresh from delivering standout performances at Berlin’s renowned Panorama Bar and Amsterdam’s DGTL, Theo Kottis presents his first solo release on Permanent Vacation, the sparkling ‘On Your Mind’ EP, released on 1 July (vinyl & digital).

The creation of the six tracks on ‘On Your Mind’ EP, provided moments of escapism for Theo Kottis, during the depths of lockdown 2020. His nods to synth pop and italo fun, inspired by bands of the new wave era, are intended to bestow upon the listener those same blissed out moments. There’s more to these tracks than meets the ear, particularly stand out ‘On Your Mind’, the product of relentless pursuit. For Theo, the collaboration with Permanent Vacation was long awaited and is a memorable mark within his thriving career.

Theo Kottis said: “Thrilled to finally share these tracks, I worked on them 2 years ago and was fortunate enough to find them a home at Permanent Vacation, which has long been one of the labels I've admired most. As these tracks were a solo lockdown project, I've loved collaborating with PV on the release - particularly the creation of the vinyl. Next up - I can't wait to play them out IRL in parties this summer.”

Edinburgh-born and now London-based Theo Kottis is set for a big summer with a host of high profile worldwide festival and club dates, with forthcoming dates including his Beautiful Strangers label Off Sonar showcase party in Barcelona with KiNK, Saoirse, & a B2B with Ryan Elliott, Warehouse Project, El Dorado Festival, Ijland Amsterdam, Pikes Ibiza and Lost Village Festival.

Dawn of Demise entstand, als die Mitglieder Bjørn Jensen und Martin Sørensen beschlossen, dass sie einfachen und schweren Death Metal
spielen wollten. "Lasst uns etwas spielen, was wir auch wirklich können, etwas wie die schweren, groovigen Parts von Bands wie Suffocation, Pyrexia, Internal Bleeding, Dying Fetus, früheren Cannibal Corpse und so weiter". "Hate Takes Its Form" ist das Ergebnis dieser ersten Gedanken und Ideen. Die Band hat jahrelang hart an dem gearbeitet, was später ihr Debütalbum werden sollte.

Das Line-Up, das für das Album verantwortlich war, bestand neben Bjørn und Martin, die immer noch in der Band sind, aus Jakob Nyholm (der später bei Koldborn und Hatesphere einstieg), Kim Jensen (spielte auch bei Koldborn und Illdisposed) und nicht zuletzt Scott Jensen. Scott, der früher in der Death Metal-Band Infernal Torment aus Silkeborg spielte, hat sich aus dem Death Metal-Ruhestand zurückgezogen, um der Band beizutreten. Zuvor hatte er erklärt, dass er mit dem Spielen in Bands fertig sei und keine Lust mehr habe. Vielleicht konnte ihn sein jüngerer Bruder Bjørn überzeugen.


Das Album hat sich im Laufe der Jahre den Titel eines modernen dänischen Death-Metal- Klassikers verdient. Die Band ist immer noch stark, aber viele Fans schwören immer noch auf das Debüt und bezeichnen es als die beste Leistung der Band. Auf die Frage nach dem Erfolg des Albums sagte die Band: ... "Wir waren eine sehr neue Band, verwirrt und wussten nicht genau, wie wir klingen wollten. Vielleicht war diese "Verwirrung" und das "Experimentieren" eine gute Sache".

"Hate Takes Its Form" wurde von Marco Angioni in den Angioni Studios neu gemastert.

Es gibt eine Dub-Serie die seit Jahren für Furore sorgt, und das seit der VÖ der "KING SIZE DUB 1" (damals in Zusammenarbeit mit dem Kult-Magazin SPEX) im Jahre 1994! In der Serie gab es immer wieder Ausflüge zu obskursen Zählweisen (Vol.69) und Specials über bestimmte Regionen (Dub In Germany), Labels (ON-U Sound Records aus London) oder Bands (Dubmatix aus Toronto)! Wunderbar, dass nun mit KSD 25 eine weitere Compilation der Reihe Dub als vielschichtige Kunst des Klangmischens darstellt. Im Rahmen dieser Ausgabe dubben sich alte und neue Freunde des Hauses Echo Beach gegenseitig oder präsentieren eigene Versionen von Pop- und Reggae-Hits von u.a. Ramones, Bob Marley, Blondie, Robert Palmer und David Bowie. Die Musik suggeriert Sonnenschein und Sound Systems, heissen Sand und coole Drinks, der Bass schlurft gelassen aber auch aufreizend rebellisch. Dub ist die Kunst des Disk Jockeys, den sie zunächst in Jamaika zum Star erhoben haben. In den Fünfzigern waren dort Musikmobile, die "Sound Systems", der Ersatz für fehlende Radiosender. Die auf Exklusivität bedachten DJs nahmen ihre Hitsingles bald selbst auf, mit instrumentalen Rückseiten für Ulk und Ansagen. Ende der Sechziger verselbständigte sich dieser Dub durch den technischen Fortschritt. King Tubby und Lee "Scratch" Perry spielten mit Hall, Echo und rückläufigen Bändern. Dub löste sich von Jamaika, ging nach New York oder London, wo er in seiner Militanz gut zum Punk passte.

On their first official collaboration, Japanese noise pioneer Masami Akita aka Merzbow and Australian sound sculptor Lawrence English present a harrowing, surrealist portrait of nocturnal industrial activity, spawned by field recordings made in a sprawling factory complex seven hours north of English's home in Brisbane. He characterizes the area as "uneasy and unsettling," awash in the sickly glow of smelters and refinement machinery, somehow not of this world - a liminal quality vividly captured in Andrei Tarkovsky's sprawling purgatorial opus, Stalker, to which the title alludes. Akita, too, described early drafts of Eternal Stalker as feeling "like the soundtrack to a dystopian science fiction opera." A mood of mechanical dread and ruined futures permeates each of the album's seven potent compositions. Opener "The Long Dream" sets the stage with steady rain on sheet metal, punctured by thunder and metallic echoes, reverberating to the rafters in a collapsing warehouse. Quickly the tempest rises. "A Gate Of Light" and "Magnetic Traps" both convulse in churning furies of electric demolition and rattling chains, roaring and relentless. "The Visit" and "Black Thicket" operate more at a distance, surveying the topography of steam, rust, and liquid metal from above, their flickers of violence swallowed by blankets of darkness. This is noise at its most elemental and unknowable: brooding, bristling, and opaque, stalking forbidden peripheries of chaos and creation. Discussing Akita's music, English refers to its "intense substrata that is purely psychedelic; it consumes and confounds." The seasick swells of friction and fracture subsume the listener, forcing an auditory surrender: "this saturation of the senses can be a euphoria." Proof comes halfway through "The Golden Sphere," when the howling mayhem subtly recedes, revealing an eerie siren drone hovering in the void, like the resonance of a dead star galaxies away. Slowly a seething, venomous wall of volume returns, shredding the signal until its frequencies fray, whipping away into the eye of the storm. The combined effect merges obliteration and liberation, rapture and ravagement; it's the sound of dissolution as resolution, uprooted and unmoored, finally freed from form.

On their first official collaboration, Japanese noise pioneer Masami Akita aka Merzbow and Australian sound sculptor Lawrence English present a harrowing, surrealist portrait of nocturnal industrial activity, spawned by field recordings made in a sprawling factory complex seven hours north of English's home in Brisbane. He characterizes the area as "uneasy and unsettling," awash in the sickly glow of smelters and refinement machinery, somehow not of this world - a liminal quality vividly captured in Andrei Tarkovsky's sprawling purgatorial opus, Stalker, to which the title alludes. Akita, too, described early drafts of Eternal Stalker as feeling "like the soundtrack to a dystopian science fiction opera." A mood of mechanical dread and ruined futures permeates each of the album's seven potent compositions. Opener "The Long Dream" sets the stage with steady rain on sheet metal, punctured by thunder and metallic echoes, reverberating to the rafters in a collapsing warehouse. Quickly the tempest rises. "A Gate Of Light" and "Magnetic Traps" both convulse in churning furies of electric demolition and rattling chains, roaring and relentless. "The Visit" and "Black Thicket" operate more at a distance, surveying the topography of steam, rust, and liquid metal from above, their flickers of violence swallowed by blankets of darkness. This is noise at its most elemental and unknowable: brooding, bristling, and opaque, stalking forbidden peripheries of chaos and creation. Discussing Akita's music, English refers to its "intense substrata that is purely psychedelic; it consumes and confounds." The seasick swells of friction and fracture subsume the listener, forcing an auditory surrender: "this saturation of the senses can be a euphoria." Proof comes halfway through "The Golden Sphere," when the howling mayhem subtly recedes, revealing an eerie siren drone hovering in the void, like the resonance of a dead star galaxies away. Slowly a seething, venomous wall of volume returns, shredding the signal until its frequencies fray, whipping away into the eye of the storm. The combined effect merges obliteration and liberation, rapture and ravagement; it's the sound of dissolution as resolution, uprooted and unmoored, finally freed from form.

„Watertown“ - das vergessene Sinatra-Meisterwerk!
Auf seinem mutigen Album aus dem Jahr 1970 war Frank Sinatra einmal nicht mit Swing oder Balladen aus dem American Songbook zu hören. Stattdessen schlüpfte er mit zehn Pop-Songs in die ungewöhnliche Rolle eines einfachen Mannes mit Kindern, dessen Frau ihn und die Kleinstadt Watertown verlassen hat.

Als „Watertown“ veröffentlicht wurde, waren weder die Fans noch die Kritiker auf diesen Richtungswechsel vorbereitet, das Album ging unter. Aber mit der Zeit hat es einen immer besseren Ruf gewonnen. 2007 beschrieb The Guardian es als „eines von seinen größten Meisterwerken“. Auf „Watertown“ bewegt sich Sinatra im Pop-Territorium von Kollegen wie Glen Campell oder Neil Diamond. Geschrieben und produziert wurde das Album von Bob Gaudio, einem der vier Mitglieder der legendären Pop-Band The Four Seasons.

Jetzt erscheint „Watertown“ als neu gemischte und remasterte Ausgabe, auf Vinyl in der Original-Albumsequenz und auf CD & digital mit fünf Bonustracks aus der Albumsession, zwei Radiospots sowie dem Titel „Lady Day“, der ursprünglich nicht Teil des „Watertown“-Konzepts war. Ein ausführliches Booklet mit Erinnerungen vieler Beteiligter und seltenen Fotos rundet die Veröffentlichung ab.

Das hat doch alles keinen Wert mehr! …oder doch!?
Genau diese Frage stellte sich der Berliner Sänger &
Songschreiber ALEX MORGEN im Frühjahr 2020, als er, kurz
vor Beginn der Corona Pandemie, sein Debütalbum „Vom
Siegen & Scheitern“ veröffentlichte.
Das Schallmagazin schrieb damals MORGENs „raue, kratzige
Stimme würden in Verbindung mit dem pur wirkenden
Gitarrenspiel genau die Emotionen vermitteln, die in
glattgebügelten Studioproduktionen häufig zu kurz kommen“
und betitelte sein Album deshalb als „Lebendige Musik“.
Genau diese Authentizität und dieser Charakter waren dem
Sänger & Songschreiber in seinen Songs immer sehr wichtig.
Die Frage, ob es sich in diesen schnelllebigen Zeiten, in denen
es vor allem darum geht, in welchen Playlisten man als
Künstler landet, noch lohnt ein ganzes Album aufzunehmen,
stellte sich dem Berliner nie. Für ihn zeigt sich die wahre
Klasse eines Künstlers in der Qualität seiner Alben und erst in
zweiter Linie in den einzelnen Songs.
Also schloss sich MORGEN während des ersten Lockdowns
wieder in seinem Homestudio ein und schrieb neue Songs.
Zusammen mit dem Produzenten Christian Kreutzer nahmen
die beiden schließlich im Laufe der nächsten beiden Jahre 13
Songs auf.
Stilistisch ließ man verschiedene Genres mit einfließen,
orientierte sich aber am Sound der 80er Jahre. Irgendwo
zwischen Bruce Springsteen, Herbert Grönemeyer und Eddie
Money, garniert mit einer modernen Note à la „the Weeknd“
entwickelte sich schließlich der eigene Charakter des Albums
Jeder spielt die Rolle seines Lebens“

Die 7” Vinyl enthält Songs aus dem Soundtrack zum neuen Disney und Pixar Film „Rot“. In ”Rot” wird Mei Lee vorgestellt, eine selbstbewusste, trottelige 13-Jährige. Ihre beschützende, leicht
überhebliche Mutter Ming ist nie weit von ihrer Tochter entfernt - sehr zum Ärger des Teenagers. Und als ob das nicht genug wäre, verwandelt sich Mei Lee, wenn sie sich zu sehr aufregt, in einen riesigen roten Panda!

Die 3 Abspannsongs werden von der Band 4*Town gesungen, einer Boygroup, um die es im Film geht.