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Artists like Jalen Ngonda come around once in a lifetime, so it is our privilege and distinct pleasure to announce the release of his debut album Come Around and Love Me.


Anyone who has had the pleasure of seeing Jalen perform live knows that he is one of the most captivating performers on today's soul scene. His voice, equal parts raw feeling and elegance, exudes confidence and charm-disarming packed rooms of rowdy concert goers, leaving them silent as they hold fast to every syllable sung. Plans for the album were struck just months before the COVID 19 pandemic shut the world down. Notwithstanding, Jalen eventually made it to Hive Mind Studios in Brooklyn, NY where he began writing and recording with the help of producer/arrangers Mike Buckley and Vincent Chiarito (both members of Charles Bradley's Extraordinaires) and a crack team of a-list musicians from the Daptone family.

The team skillfully blends heavy arrangements and introspective lyrics with motown sophistication, leaving the listener in a blissful wash of wonderment. Jalen has been writing songs since he was 14, and his compositions are also very much of these times. He explains, "I love music from the 20th century- I listen to it all the time, but I?m in this world and the 21st century. ...to a stranger, I?d describe my music as modern soul and R&B, while trying to fit in the Beach Boys and the Beatles somewhere in between." Come Around and Love Me reveals how he creates a classic approach that is rooted in the sounds of revered pioneers, without falling into imitation-leaving no doubt that Jalen will continue to shine within the superlative, timeless musical tradition that is Daptone?s hallmark.
Now it's your turn to come around and love one of the finest soul albums of the decade.

Reissue of the highly sought-after 7” from 1979 by Chicago
reggae outfit Gypsy Fari.
Gypsy Fari was a project born in the south side of Chicago
after a chance meeting between St Kitts expat Leroy Webster
and local music grad Kevin Coleman. The pair set out to blur
the boundaries of genre with their unique brand of music,
spearheaded by Webster’s Caribbean roots and fused with
the soul and blues the midwest is famous for.
A striking stand-out of the band’s repertoire comes via their
debut recording, laid down at Curtis Mayfield’s legendary
Curtom Studios. The EP opens with Chi-Town Reggae - a
super-charged blend of reggae and disco, led by Websters
infectious vocal, steeped in soul and powered by a relentless
rhythm section. Hail Jah follows closely, written on the hilltops
of the outskirts of Kingston, Jamaica, it’s a deadly roots reggae
missile that pays homage to Websters beginnings.
Once dubbed by a local news outlet “Gypsy Fari are to
Chicago reggae what Muddy Water is to Chicago blues” -
now remastered, repackaged and made available again for
the first time since its initial release

Synth pioneer and musical polymath, Wally Badarou is a genius. But you know that already. A vinyl version of his majestic Colors Of Silence has been craved by the Balearic cognoscenti ever since its low-key 2001 release. Indeed, when we first started work on Be With, we asked some pals with exquisite taste what their dream release would be. We asked Balearic legend Moonboots and, without hesitation, he said Colors Of Silence by Wally Badarou. We didn't know Wally had made this album. And most still don't. But that's about to change.

Colors Of Silence is ostensibly a new age album. As ever though, Wally's sophisticated synth textures and expressive keyboard runs are so full of character, so full of life, that this work of art transcends any easy genre categorisation. It's simply stunning, throughout. It sounds like A.r.t. Wilson or Suzanne Kraft, with traces of CFCF and Jonny Nash. But it was made a good decade earlier than the work of these modern giants. Sometimes, it doesn't seem far from some Larry Heard albums.

Island Records founder Chris Blackwell's friend Nathalie Delon asked Wally to provide music for the yoga DVD she was to release. Lack of time on both sides made them agree on using "quality demos" Wally had in his ideas bank. It's understandable why Colors Of Silence remains somewhat of a lost gem. As Wally explains: "Total lack of promotion made it an 'intimate' release, which was exactly what I was looking for: just a buzz-maker and time-buyer that would allow me to concentrate on the real thing as soon as I'd have time, which could also turn into a rare collecting item later, once the final versions made their way to success. You never know."

Over the years, Colors Of Silence has become a true cult record for the ambient/Balearic heads.

The beguiling but brief "Dance In The Dust" is the shuffling, hyper-percussive, hypnotic opener. It gives way to the deep serenity of "Amber Whispers". It's a gliding, divine, mini melodic masterpiece. It'll make you swoon in its extreme beauty. The bright and breezy "Where Were We" follows, a tropical, reggae-tinged bounce through the islands.

The uptempo groove is maintained on the keys-drizzled soca-funk of "The Lights Of Kinshasa" before Side A is rounded out with "Pictures Of You". It starts with stately, melancholic, unadorned piano and this alone would make for a beautiful song. But Wally always gives us that bit extra and he effortlessly introduces warm, dreamy pads and minimal, slo-mo percussion to augment a frankly stunning piece of work.

Ushering in Side B, Wally's mesmeric piano playing is to the fore again, in the intro to uber-chilled "Serendipity For Two". The playing becomes more mellifluous as the track progresses and adds warmth through exotic percussion, woodwind, sweeping synths and digi-drums. It has echoes of, er, Echoes. It segues seamlessly into the more propulsive, wavy "Smiles By The Millions". If you're not nodding and grinning along widely to the gently throbbing bassline underpinning this, we can't help you. The meditative "Higher Still" follows, cinematic in feel and ever so slightly sinister with the strings. It sounds particularly Badalamenti-esque, if you ask us.

That unmistakable, almost peculiar Badarou funk - so lyrical, so texturally rich and so rhythmically spacious - is all over "Oriental". Next up, "Days To Wonder" brings the serenity back, insistent yet melodic keys, as if played in a place of worship, coupled with birdsong, conjure a kind of instant nostalgia for halcyon days of youth. The contemplative "Dawn Of Europa" is a sombre, beatless, ambient journey whilst the glorious, too-brief "Crystal Falls" features soft percussion and sparkle before fully glistening with some gentle head-nod beats. Wally brings this incredible collection to a mellow, tender close with the graceful "Purple Lines".

There can be few artists more under-appreciated given their vast influence than Wally Badarou. His solo work practically defined the sound of the Balearic DJs of the 1980s, and thus the more sophisticated sound of dance culture thereafter. A synth specialist, Badarou was the long-time associate of Level 42. He was one of the Compass Point All Stars (with Sly and Robbie, Barry Reynolds, Mikey Chung and Uziah "Sticky" Thompson), the in-house recording team of Compass Point Studios responsible for a series of albums in the 1980s recorded by Grace Jones, Tom Tom Club, Mick Jagger, Black Uhuru, Gwen Guthrie, Jimmy Cliff and Gregory Isaacs. Badarou's keyboard playing could also be heard on albums by Robert Palmer, Marianne Faithfull, Herbie Hancock, M (Pop Muzik), Talking Heads, Manu Dibango and Miriam Makeba. He also produced Fela Kuti. Phew!

Meticulously remastered and cut by both Simon Francis and Cicely Balston respectively, it has been pressed to the highest possibly quality at Record Industry in Holland. Special thanks must go to Apiento from Test Pressing who first introduced us to Wally and facilitated all those early zoom meetings. It couldn't have happened without his help. Not least on pulling the art together, too, which features striking original photography by Mads Perch. Benji Roebuck of Roebuck Press did his thing brilliantly in art working the whole package to completion. All in all: essential.

Faitiche releases the album Improvisations And Edits, Tokyo 26.09.2001 on vinyl for the first time. For the original 2002 CD on Soup-Disk and Sub Rosa (Audiosphere), Jan Jelinek and the Japanese trio Computer Soup (Satoru Hori – trumpet, Osamu Okubo - toys & electronics, Kei Ikeda - toys & electronics) presented eight tracks all recorded one afternoon in the trio’s living room in Tokyo. They are excerpts from a joint group improvisation that subsequently underwent rudimentary editing, on which Jelinek and Computer Soup worked separately.

Jelinek met the three musicians at his first concert in Japan in 2001, at Tokyo’s Yellow club, where Computer Soup performed as the support act. Delighted by their free improvisation on pocket-sized electronic toys, trumpet and oscillators, he arranged to meet Hori, Okubo and Ikeda a few days later for a session at their apartment. The resulting three-hour recording, made on their living room floor, formed the basis for Improvisations and Edits. A few days later, Jelinek returned to Berlin. Over the following months, they separately chose passages from the recording that were then edited and assembled into an album.

Formed in Tokyo in 1996 as a quintet (including Shusaku Hariya and Daisuke Oishi), Computer Soup began by performing with acoustic instruments on the streets of Shibuya. Ikeda und Okubo soon switched instruments, and from then on the group’s minimalistic but densely woven sound was defined by electronic toys, oscillators and Satoru Hori’s trumpet. Their first album was released in 1997 on the Japanese label Soup Disk. Eight further releases followed.

From the reviews of Improvisations and Edits, Tokyo 26.09.2001 in 2003:

"The mind-blowing first track Straight Life is perhaps the best example of what the album has to offer. Jelinek's trademark smears and washes occupy the midrange, like ghosted images of Joe Zawinul's electric piano floating quietly in the wind. DSP jazz modes are set against a walking bassline (possibly computer generated) and a gently tooted trumpet complete with Harmon mute, a dead ringer for Miles Davis' Prestige-era ballads. The effect is something like a three-dimensional film, with different realities on each layer; images of what jazz was manage to interact with a real-time demonstration of all it could be."
pitchfork, 2003

"Improvisations and Edits is a warm and mellow Ambient release with beautiful glitch fragments, static noise bursts and real trumpet intersections. However, there are times where it is the exact opposite, mainly effect-laden, overdriven and bouncy with a lack of melodies and focus, so be aware of these specific tracks."
ambientexotica, 2003

"Often deliciously dreamy and hazy, Improvisations and Edits is like listening to an exceptional instrumental jazz performance while half-conscious or under some sort of chemical influence. Computerised blips and bleeps, loops and treatments and murky sonic skips curl up around desolate horn notes and scattered instrumental noises that culminate in elegant music."
exclaim.ca, 2003

The Blips self titled debut, 'The Blips', struck lightning when Little Steven's Underground Garage declared "Inside Out" The Coolest Song In The World in the spring of 2021. And here we are with The Blips, 'Again'. Back with more boogie, beast and beauty

This band swaggers like The Stones, Haggards like Merle, and snots like Mike Ness. 'Again' carries you on a not-too-long trip through a varied landscape of far out, well made and dusty rock songs that stick to your black boots and go with you when you go. While there are four different lead singers and writers throughout this album, it is apparent 'Again' is executed by a band, rather than disparate musicians playing along on a track in a cold studio. A band that sweats. The Blips haven't "grown" or "matured" with their "sophomore effort" --These ideas don't apply to the Blips. The band is wholly made up of veteran front men of some of the most revered bands of the Birmingham rock scene. Making records is what all of these guys do on the regular. Once upon a time, The Blips came together, rose above, braved the elements, forced the issue, carried the weight and dealt with the demons that require the making of a record. And now they have done it . . . 'Again'.

God knows enough has been written about Workshop. Surely you haven't read it, but this group has been around since 1985, and what they did was this: musically quite limited, they made the music they wanted to hear, but in an ingenious way. Some played the instruments skillfully and others not so much. Something came out of it! One says: that's just the way I like it. The other one boasts: yes, I understood everything how you play here, sometimes you hit it, or sometimes you play so that the parents cry with joy. In fact, seven records were recorded, which, with the exception of the second LP, are still more than worth listening to today. Are they in danger of being forgotten?

Yes and no. What is worth listening to here has often been banned. One must bring it out again. Make attentive. Against the forgetting. These impetuous songs - just let them get close to you again and listen to them in a new context and forget all the smart-ass talk that was said about them. That means to put the self with all its reality entanglements in the pillory. This is of course not only pleasant. Bravo!

“The revelation that you didn’t need formal training to start a band in 1977 and the realization that you don’t need to be Merce Cunningham to dance are one and the same.” - Ryan Schreiber, Pitchfork,2003  47 minutes. Two sides. A single spine jacket. Confident and deliberate. Lightning in a bottle.  The Rapture’s ‘Echoes’ was, and is, a clear-eyed kick in the teeth, a band at the peak of their powers and producers with an ambitious vision making. a. point.  The whole ‘indie crowd finally learns to dance’ narrative is overwrought and irrelevant in 2023 - perhaps context is no longer king - but what remains clear is that this album, made by a San Diego punk band who had moved to New York via Seattle, and produced by the DFA in their own studio, where time and gear and ideas both good and bad were aplenty, maintains an energy and search for catharsis that could bulldoze even the most uptight.  For whatever reason, it’s remained out of print on vinyl since its initial run. (Don’t worry, though, there were a lot of CDR promos lying around.)  And now, with minimal pageantry, it’s back. Recut by Bob Weston, loud and cl

As a father and touring musician I made this album to keep my kids company in my absence, hopefully for them to sing along with in their mom’s car. These songs evoke memories of my mother playing her Martin parlor guitar and of my father, at the family turntable, telling stories about Furry Lewis and Gus Cannon or explaining a song’s meaning. I wanted to share these childhood favorites with my kids. This collection of childhood favorites was recorded for fun, at home, with family and friends in the spirit of sharing. Everyone is welcome. I wanted to share these songs with my kids and my friend’s kids as well as expose my daughters to the joy of learning, performing and recording music that my father shared with me. The recording was largely done in 2017 during dinner parties, sleep overs and play dates, either in a family style social setting or while the kids slept. After burning rough mix CDs for the family car, I set the project aside until 2023. Finishing the album with fresh ears album benefitted from my film score work done in 2020 and 21. I love letting projects simmer on the back burner until the time is right. The perspective of time can’t be bought or faked. My daughters sang on the album, both in 2017 and in 2023. Overdubbing my daughters on top of their younger vocals, 6 years later, was a unique sensation and document of their youth. You can hear my youngest daughter sneeze and improvise wordless melodies but my oldest daughter stole the show after her first overdub party, taking me aside and asking “don’t you get paid for singing on a record?” - Luther Dickinson

Good Lovelies' first performance as a trio was on December 15th, 2006 - it was a collection of originals and Christmas material, and Toronto-based Caroline Brooks, Kerri Ough and Susan Passmore had no sense yet of the long career that lay ahead. To honour the anniversary of their debut performance, Good Lovelies continued presenting Christmas-themed shows, and what started as a single performance became an annual holiday tour. With a growing catalogue of seasonal material, in 2009 the band decided it was time they made a record. The unusual heat of that May had an interesting effect on the project, and as the band got into the spirit, they wound up with the 12-song collection "Under The Mistletoe" - which includes classics like Santa Baby, Silent Night and Blue Christmas, to swingers like Mele Kalikimaka and Rockin' Around the Christmas Tree, as well as three originals written by Good Lovelies. "Under The Mistletoe" remains one of Good Lovelies most popular titles to date, and now, fourteen years after its initial release, fans are being treated to a fresh pressing on limited edition red vinyl. The release comes just in time for Good Lovelies annual holiday tour which has become a Christmas tradition for thousands of fans at home in Canada.

Kacy & Clayton first met Jeff Tweedy in the backroom of the Fillmore Auditorium in San Francisco in September 2016. The band had been invited to open for Wilco on night 4 of their annual 5-night run. While waiting for their soundcheck, Jeff appeared through a curtain backstage and introduced himself. In the conversations that followed, Kacy Anderson, Clayton Linthicum and Jeff Tweedy discussed their mutual appreciation of Davy Graham and Jeff’s understanding of Saskatchewan’s geography. Those conversations would eventually blossom into an invite to stop by Wilco’s studio, the Loft, a visit they made only weeks later. In January 2017, Kacy & Clayton returned to the Loft with a rhythm section and a batch of new songs. Over the course of 8 days, the band recorded 9 songs with Jeff Tweedy producing and Loft house engineer Tom Schick at the helm. These 9 songs are what would become the band’s fourth album, The Siren’s Song. While writing and recording The Siren's Song, Kacy & Clayton found inspiration in the music of Sammi Smith, The Everly Brothers, Link Wray's chicken shack LPs, country records with harpsichords, The Sir Douglas Quintet, Gene Clark, Jeannie C. Riley, as well as British traditional singers like Peter Bellamy and the Watersons. The Siren's Song is a product of these influences and an extraordinary progression in the band's own sound.

Berlin-based Swedish bassist and producer Petter Eldh returns with a new Koma Saxo album Post Koma, out on We Jazz Records, 10 November. The title Post Koma aptly describes the vibe of this one: The Koma Saxo sound continues its evolution, morphing into a holistic vision of jazz now and soon, where live instrumentation and repurposed sampling lose their boundaries.

Over the course of its three iterations (self-titled debut in 2019, LIVE in 2020, Koma West in 2022) Koma Saxo has sounded at times "liquid" and postproduced, at times raw and direct, at times acoustic and at other times oddly electronic (even while still being made with acoustic instruments). Post Koma is a culmination of this sonic study by Eldh, resulting in a music vision that never second-guesses throwing tasty hooks and everlasting melodies out the window after a mere bite of them. But fear not: there are even more new ideas just around the corner.

Eldh's compositions and ideas merge together in a way that just flows. There are quality musicians in the mix, including Koma Saxo live band members Sofia Jernberg, Jonas Kullhammar, Otis Sandsjö, Mikko Innanen, Maciej Obara and Christian Lillinger, but that's like saying that a cake includes flour and sugar. This music is not about playing, it's essentially about how the music is and how it takes its shape, so you quickly lose track of who did what, and that's all in the benefit of encountering this music as an entity that is constantly challenging itself while moving forward. The musicians are valued contributors, and an integral part of what's here, but this is far from traditional jazz playing where a band sits in a room playing takes after takes of compositions on sheet.

That being said, this is jazz to the fullest. That is, music that understands its past but always moves forward, and is never afraid of taking risks. Petter Eldh uses jazz as a starting point, not the end goal. This gives his music edge and mobility beyond what can be contained on one album. In a way, an album, then, becomes a snapshot of a creative process in constant flux and evolution.

Opening track "Koma" is literally drum & bass. It only consists of those two elements, yet what comes out of it is an open invite, a way of clearing your palette. It would be useless to describe individual tracks beyond that, but there's a strong sense of deliverance to the set. It feels like an ending, and also like a new beginning.

Berlin-based Swedish bassist and producer Petter Eldh returns with a new Koma Saxo album Post Koma, out on We Jazz Records, 10 November. The title Post Koma aptly describes the vibe of this one: The Koma Saxo sound continues its evolution, morphing into a holistic vision of jazz now and soon, where live instrumentation and repurposed sampling lose their boundaries.

Over the course of its three iterations (self-titled debut in 2019, LIVE in 2020, Koma West in 2022) Koma Saxo has sounded at times "liquid" and postproduced, at times raw and direct, at times acoustic and at other times oddly electronic (even while still being made with acoustic instruments). Post Koma is a culmination of this sonic study by Eldh, resulting in a music vision that never second-guesses throwing tasty hooks and everlasting melodies out the window after a mere bite of them. But fear not: there are even more new ideas just around the corner.

Eldh's compositions and ideas merge together in a way that just flows. There are quality musicians in the mix, including Koma Saxo live band members Sofia Jernberg, Jonas Kullhammar, Otis Sandsjö, Mikko Innanen, Maciej Obara and Christian Lillinger, but that's like saying that a cake includes flour and sugar. This music is not about playing, it's essentially about how the music is and how it takes its shape, so you quickly lose track of who did what, and that's all in the benefit of encountering this music as an entity that is constantly challenging itself while moving forward. The musicians are valued contributors, and an integral part of what's here, but this is far from traditional jazz playing where a band sits in a room playing takes after takes of compositions on sheet.

That being said, this is jazz to the fullest. That is, music that understands its past but always moves forward, and is never afraid of taking risks. Petter Eldh uses jazz as a starting point, not the end goal. This gives his music edge and mobility beyond what can be contained on one album. In a way, an album, then, becomes a snapshot of a creative process in constant flux and evolution.

Opening track "Koma" is literally drum & bass. It only consists of those two elements, yet what comes out of it is an open invite, a way of clearing your palette. It would be useless to describe individual tracks beyond that, but there's a strong sense of deliverance to the set. It feels like an ending, and also like a new beginning.

Blue Cloud Vinyl. Hailing from Bozeman, MT, Kitchen Dwellers embody the spirit and soul of their home with a sonic palette as expansive as Montana's vistas. The quartet_Shawn Swain Mandolin, Torrin Daniels banjo, Joe Funk [upright bass], and Max Davies [acoustic guitar]_twist bluegrass, folk, and rock through a kaleidoscope of homegrown stories, rich mythology, American west wanderlust, and psychedelic hues. After amassing 5 million-plus streams, selling out shows, and receiving acclaim from Huffington Post, Relix, American Songwriter, and more, the group brings audiences back to Big Sky Country on their third full-length album, Wise River, working with Cory Wong of Vulfpeck as producer.In the end, Kitchen Dwellers share timeless American stories from the heart of one of its greatest treasures."When you listen to Wise River, I hope you hear some of the original qualities that made us who we are, but you also recognize aspects that are new and adventurous," Max leaves off. "I hope you hear what it sounds like when the four of us are at home and have the space to create something together. This album is really how we sound as a band."

Take the 101 north out of Los Angeles, and you'll pass by Agoura Hills, where the core duo of the band Dub Thompson grew up. Whatever you see in that town won't readily prepare you for the music they wrote while there, but you're free to look."Most everyone who's in a group who's our age lives on the Internet," says guitarist Matt Pulos. "The kinds of things that have shaped our band aren't anchored to any one time or place."Pulos and his bandmate, drummer Evan Laffer, are currently both 19 years old, and are putting that line of thought to the test; their musical influences travel from the Midwestern malaise of Big Black and Pere Ubu, to Kraut pioneers Can and Kraftwerk, while bowing to the British belligerence of The Fall and This Heat.Recording the album while living with Foxygen's Jonathan Rado at his rented house in Bloomington, the band had its first taste of a heavy Indiana summer, and all the humidity and insect life that buzzes along with it. "We woke up every day, ate hard-boiled eggs and stood on a porch," says Pulos of the experience.Their first collection of songs slyly unties the shoes of genre and convention, shapeshifts mischievously, and tramples on the promises delivered on the name itself.There are only eight songs on this rangy debut.Intense blasts of hook-filled noise rock ("Hayward!"), rocksteady marionette stomp ("No Time"), hypnotic bouts of doomy poetics ("Epicondyles"), outlandishly sexy groove rock ("Dograces"), and a number of other bite-sized forays into parts unknown are made manifest across 9 Songs. The vibes are strong here. Pulos sings and plays like he's working out long-standing grudges, pulling the most sinewy tones from an acoustic guitar and ripping huge chunks of demon flesh out of his electric. Laffer matches him step for step on the drums, an exacting presence behind the kit who pushes even the band's more placid moments into bouts of tension. Together they succeed in animating their musical ideas to startling, almost unnatural life. Reverb units, keyboards, samples and processing gluing everything together, saturated in the August heat and worn in until they sound second nature, it's like somehow you've been listening to these songs forever.

New Zealand indie trifecta Mermaidens, are set to make a resounding splash in the music scene yet again with the announcement of their fourth self-titled album and release of the project's first single ‘I like to be alone’. The trio, comprising of Gussie Larkin (guitar/vocals), Lily West (bass/vocals), and Abe Hollingsworth (drums), has been on an impressive journey of musical excellence, boasting three critically acclaimed albums, international tours, and a slew of accolades to their name. With a sound that is both bold and adventurous, Mermaidens' music is a testament to their unwavering creativity and relentless work ethic. Their upcoming self-titled album, a product of the band's tireless efforts between 2019 - 2022, promises to be a captivating sonic journey, delving into themes of self-awareness, introspection, long-term love, and even channelling political anger and frustration. Recorded mainly at Surgery Studios in Wellington, with the engineering prowess of Lee Prebble and produced by Samuel Flynn-Scott of The Phoenix Foundation fame, the album also saw the band stepping up their production game with Gussie and Lily working their magic with Protools in their DIY home studios, showcasing their growth and versatility as artists. “Working with Sam has really been a round-trip in our creativity,” as Lily explains, “we grew up listening to Sam’s early records and here we are getting the inside scoop on how to make that kind of magic. Listening to Pegasus today still transports me to a time when I listened to music on a Walkman. In the best possible way - sometimes it felt like we’d added an evil genius to the mix, we’d be working on a song and he’d come in like a mad scientist with fresh ideas to try.” To give fans a taste of the upcoming album's brilliance, Mermaidens have released new single 'I like to be alone.' The song has been part of the band's live repertoire for a while and explores the fulfilling contentment of being alone and the struggle to convey this sentiment to a partner. Its relatable lyrics capture the essence of cherishing solitude while navigating the complexities of human connections. Gussie's candid and honest approach to self-discovery is complemented by the song's, Michel Gondry inspired video, as Gussie explains: “The giant jean pocket and denim world were created by Hannah Webster, a textile designer and illustrator based in Wellington. Hannah took all the wild ideas for props and made them come true! I’m still in awe of how she managed to sew a 6x6 metre backdrop for the denim world out of whatever scraps she could find. The video captures our playfulness and sense of humour, and is a hint of what’s to come for the rest of the music videos. I love the way the story wraps up with the three of us together, literally playing “in the pocket”. Mermaidens' self-titled album will be released on Friday 3 November 2023 and is available for pre-order now. UK listeners will be able to pick up an exclusive Rough Trade vinyl pressing in transparent red, along with an A3 poster and jumbo bumper sticker. Having released their last two albums through iconic local label Flying Nun, Mermaidens will be released independently. Creative control is an important pillar for the band, who are hands on in every facet of their projects. Mermaidens gather their community close via their hugely popular multi-city boutique festival Mermgrown, hosting peers including Womb, Hans Pucket, Vera Ellen (Girl Friday) and Kōtiro from 2021 onwards. They've been invited to share the stage with Death Cab For Cutie, Sleater-Kinney, Gang of Four, Parquet Courts, Lorde and The Veils, and have toured extensively in Europe, the UK, and Australia.

LP SHIPPING ONLY / CD DELAYED “This is definitely the most honest and mature record Deathchant has ever made.” That’s Deathchant vocalist and guitarist T.J. Lemieux talking about the band’s third and latest album, Thrones. Think of it as not just the follow-up to 2021’s Waste, but the other side of the coin. “While Waste and our self-titled album touched on similar themes, they were sort of from a problem standpoint,” he explains. “Thrones is full of reflection, self-realization, and solutions for moving forward and conquering those problems.” Which isn’t to say that Deathchant have gone soft. Far from it, dude. In fact, Thrones just might be their heaviest record thus far. The band’s seamless swirl of classic rock guitar harmonies, syrupy sludge, blues boogie and psych bombast has reached a thrilling new apex as Lemieux spins high-powered tales of reckoning from beyond the wall of sanity. Thematically, Lemieux and his bandmates—bassist George Camacho, guitarist Doug Stuckey and drummer Joe Herzog—peel back the veneer of self-delusion to expose the fork in the road. “Thrones is meant to represent things that rule you, things you worship, things you rely on or think you need,” Lemieux says. “Sometimes those things make you feel in control, safe, on top of the world like you're in power—which over time often proves untrue.” Witness lead single “Mirror”: Kicking off with gleaming Lizzy-isms, the song rumbles into a thick groove overlaid with lysergic fireworks that conjure the shaggy European movers of decades past. “‘Mirror’ is the key to the whole Thrones theme,” Lemieux explains. “It’s about looking inward to realize what's ruling you, what's consuming you, and how delusional you've been about those things. Your sense of self is so damn important, and fully facing your truths is not an easy thing to do. It’s admitting that you’ve intentionally dulled and quieted your mind to distract, avoid and run from yourself, from memory, from loss and truth. At some point, you have to face that shit.” The languid and dreamy “Mother Mary” is also crucial to Thrones’ trajectory. “If the album was a book, ‘Mirror’ would be the first chapter and ‘Mother Mary’ would be the last chapter, though they’re not the first and last track for sonic reasons,” Lemieux explains. “‘Mirror’ is saying, ‘I’m looking inward because some things need to change,’ while ‘Mother Mary’ is saying, ‘Okay, things are fucked and have gone way too far but now we have this understanding—and acknowledging things is key to overcoming.’” Thrones was recorded live in a cabin in the remote mountain community of Frazier Park, CA, with trusty engineer Steve Schroeder (a.k.a. Schroeds). “We moved in for a week, rehearsed a bit and went for it,” Lemieux says. “Each tune got three or so takes, but we nailed ‘Mother Mary’ and ‘Canyon’ right away.” Overdubs were done at the cabin, Schroeder’s Studio 3, and Lemieux’s place. The album was produced by Lemieux and Schroeder. “Overall, it’s a pretty dark record,” Lemieux says. “It's serious and leans into heavy themes, sometimes using metaphor and imagery to soften those blows, but sometimes it hits direct. It’s positive, though—and cathartic. Forever riding on the line of total insanity and flirting with mental degradation. It’s our most realized and ambitious record to date.”

On For Annette, singer-songwriter ronja summons forth a certain unbridgeable void within our existence and the acceptance of the deafening silence that comes with it. Weaving the strands of her previous release something about us with multiple openings towards more abstract territory, this 5-track EP marks her debut under the forward-thinking Unguarded label, astutely situating her music well beyond the confines of the genre.

The opening track “Nothing Makes Me Feel” beckons the listener into a discreet moment amid the early light of dawn, commencing with an up-close acoustic guitar, soon to be graced by ronja’s hushed voice, softly whispering, as if to avoid waking someone near. “Just Once”, with its weeping waltz, is about losing one’s place in the world, about choosing the imaginary over the real. Behind the strummed chords hides a soft dither of sine tones that attempts to fill the gap that cannot be filled, only to transform into quavering distortion ever after. Where language may falter, ronja turns to choral-like instrumental pieces (“Light” & “Grass from Below”), characterized by her distinctive and multi-layered flute arrangements. The absence of words here allows for a sensible stage of introspection, a fleeting and diaphanous pause, forging a passage to a more hopeful outlook. Yet, these pieces are not isolated; hints of fluttering air and cavernous depths are subtly alluded to in the earlier, more song-based tracks. In just under 18 minutes running time, the theme of loss, or the anticipation of its arrival, lingers solemnly before transcending intermediate states in “Almost There”.

Admirers of the dreamgaze band Roomer, which made waves in and around the Berlin music scene this past year, might detect faint resemblances. Nonetheless, ronja—a pivotal presence in said band—unveils a distinct effort here, striking subdued but enticing tones, a foreshadowing of what is yet to come from this luminary artist. – Luka Aron

"Lost" album from Todd Snider, featuring previously unreleased songs, recordings, and versions. Sometimes an artist makes a record, then decides not to release it. Neil Young and Prince are two artists who famously did that multiple times. Todd Snider is another artist who has done it, putting three albums on the shelf in a career now spanning three decades. While Snider may not be as well known as Young or Prince, he is just as committed to his art, and his decisions to shelve those three records were artistic ones. But now Snider has decided to take one of those albums off the shelf. Sixteen years after it was recorded, Crank It, We’re Doomed will finally get its release via Aimless Records.

Repress of the sold out Record Store Day release, this time on a different colour. Black Spiders – Those trusted and true sons of the north are back. “We knew the new album had to be special. We’ve been away for a while. The first album was a straight shot, the second on the rocks, with this new one we had to kick down the brewery doors!” Pete Spiby. Back in June of 2017, Sheffield rock beasts Black Spiders waved goodbye to an army of loyal fans with some sonically charged shows before retreating into the shadows. And then, in November of last year, with the world in the grips of the Coronavirus pandemic and after a long year of very little fun from out of the silhouettes they returned with ‘Fly In The Soup’, the first new Black Spiders music in 6 years. Exactly the feel-good shot in the arm the world needed, while we await that other vaccine. The seeds of the Black Spider return were actually planted last summer, when singer and guitarist Pete Spiby began taking to guitarist Ozzy Lister to start writing new material and before they knew it, they had amassed the best part of 40 songs in a very short period of time which they whittled down. And then the pandemic hit. “It’s certainly been a strange process, in unfamiliar territory,” explains Pete. “We started to look at how we could do it given the restrictions and not only that, but we had to replace our original drummer too. For us and probably most other bands, we would usually take a riff or song idea to a rehearsal and thrash it out ‘till we either had something or it ended up in the song graveyard! This time around we couldn’t do that, so myself, Ozzy and on occasion Adam Irwin (bass player) started to send ideas back and forth until we had something to work with in GarageBand. We got to a point where we had enough song ideas with basic structure to go into a studio. It was at this point when we had to look for a new drummer.” With former drummer ‘Tiger’ Si Atkinson unavailable to play, with a week or two of grooming, the band took a chance on Planet Rock DJ Wyatt Wendel to occupy the drum stool. “I've never joined or worked with a band in this way EVER,” laughs Wyatt. “2020 certainly made it surreal. “A Pete/Ozzy writing session at the beginning of the year had produced some promising results, but it felt like barriers were popping up everywhere,” explains bassist Adam Irwin. “We started talking about how we could use technology such as GarageBand to help, and slowly but surely the song writing gathered pace. It was time to hook up with our old producer Matt Elliss and try these new songs out in the studio. “Heading into the studio to record songs we’d written but never played together, with a drummer that we’d never met, is one of the stranger experiences I’ve had while being in a band. Thankfully, Wyatt has turned out to be an excellent addition, who despite his faults (loud, southern) has fit right into the band dynamic. Covid has made life really tough for so many of us in our industry. And yet, this new way of song writing has been liberating, this is the most consistent and prolific we’ve ever been, and I am immensely proud of this album.” Against all of the odds, Black Spiders have crafted an album that features 13 tracks of high-energy, feel-good rock n’roll contrasted by demonic doom that despite the disjointed, isolated way it was recorded. It sounds like a band, firing on all cylinders. “We had to dig down deep to pull out some gems and what would we want from Black Spiders,” questions Pete. War, vengeance, mental health, death, conservation & climate change, where are we from? Relationships, friendships, our flaws. Where are we going? Alien life and Mother Earth - some of which made the record.” Kicking off with the aforementioned ‘Fly In The Soup’ single, this 3rd ST long-player wastes no time in grabbing you by the scruff of the neck and dragging you through an album where good times, hooks and riffs are not in short supply, but the doom-drenched likes of ‘Wizard Shall Not Kill Wizard’ and the psychedelic groove of album closer ‘Crooked Black Wings’ give us an album of many moods and dynamics and a reason to be cheerful in 2021. And why does the album have no title? “It wasn’t hard picking a title for the album, as we decided that the focus should be on the band, not the album title, so we decided not to have one. Let the music do the talking....

The last twelve months have been a whirlwind for Henry Counsell and Louis Curran, the men who make up Joy (Anonymous). Having established themselves during the Covid-19 era by playing impromptu meet-ups on London’s South Bank, they have graduated to bigger venues, travelled to far-flung locales and recorded their second album, Cult Classics, while maintaining the spontaneous energy and irrepressible joy that made their name. Their music revels in the euphoria of being alive and all the feelings, good or bad, that come with it. It invites us into a community, draws us close and promises the night of our lives.

Recorded over the course of a year, the blueprint for Cult Classics was laid down over a two-week span at Imogen Heap’s Round House in east London. Joy (Anonymous) invited friends old and new to visit - they’d record live instruments in jam sessions upstairs and then retreat to a second room to flip and loop and generally mess with the sounds, moulding them into sizzling dance tracks. “Loads of people were coming up to me like ‘I thought this was going to be a dance record?’” Louis says, remembering the quietly beautiful music they’d be recording. “I’d be like, don’t worry about that, just keep playing.” He’d send it back to people later and they’d be floored - “That was my bit and you’ve made it... jungle!”

It was an organic and creatively fulfilling approach, one that didn’t allow any of the music to get stale or stagnate. As they built the tracks from the sounds they’d collected, Joy (Anonymous) would weave the new songs into their famously improvised live sets, testing them, refining them, taking note of the audiences’ reactions. In a year punctuated by a lot of travel, they’d also incorporate the voices of people they met along the way - “Beazley’s Poem”, which opens the record, features the words of a man who was working security at a Fred Again show at New York’s Terminal Five. “He was basically doing the opposite of his job and being a hype man, climbing on the fence and ramping up the crowd - we ended up hanging out with him - like, who’s this legend?” Louis explains. “He just speaks really amazingly about his life, all these amazing thoughts and opinions - he started jumping on the mic when we were playing, preaching these amazing messages to the crowd, like that we all need to be nicer to each other. The first time we played the record in its entirety, he introduced us and that’s the recording we’ve used.”

Joy (Anonymous) remain dedicated to the spirit of spontaneity. They shut a street down with a surprise waterside party in New York. On a trip to Copenhagen they played an impromptu set in a cafe, which turned into a house party and a night-long good time. In Lithuania, they ended up playing in a decommissioned prison. It’s harder, perhaps, to keep that spirit alive now that they are operating more within the confines of the music industry but they will keep lugging their kit to wherever the party calls for as long as they can. “I think if we lose that, we’ve kind of lost what makes us us,” Henry says.

Bursting with multi-genre reference points and disparate influences, Cult Classics is very much a dance album. The samples we made ourselves or we took from music that is quite different to dance music, but we definitely wanted to shout out a lot of the dance influences that we love,” Henry says. They listened to a lot of Daft Punk and Basement Jaxx as well as The Prodigy (“more rage stuff”), taking songwriting tips from their dance forebears, but also recording bits that felt more like jazz and motown (see: A Place I Belong and the lovely album closer, You’re In Or You’re Out). Emir Taha’s gentle classical guitar runs like a thread throughout Cult Classics, washing into the undertones of the record, tying it all together.

The album follows the beat of a night out, from frenetic, sweaty movement to the gentler winding down as the dawn breaks. At times it is euphoric, celebratory and pure, whirling fun, at others it seeks the joy in the darker emotions that life throws our way. 404 is designed to encapsulate everything about the Joy (Anonymous) journey so far. Skittering beats and ghostly vocals give way to vibrating house chords: sirens blare as we approach a dubstep drop. It’s dramatic and wild, ratcheting up, seeming to settle then hitting you with an intense and frantic breakdown before the ghostly vocal returns to lull us back into the world. It has the feel of a hungry cat playing with a mouse, toying with it before letting it get away.

What sounds like someone playing the spoons on playful, housey How We End Up Here is actually Louis’ restless habit of clicking his rings on everything, one of a myriad of calling cards and easter eggs that day one fans will recognise. They rework Miley Cyrus and Swae Lee’s Party Up The Street into a French-electro-inspired future classic, adding a note of melancholy to a tune that you can imagine hearing blaring from every car on a summer drive. The lyrics on Cult Classic are generally reassuring, inspirational, originally drawn from Henry in stream-of-consciousness freestyles. You’re fine the way you are, they seem to say - the repeated “No need to try” of A Place I Belong, the assurance that “It’s in me all the time” on In Me All The Time. Even the summery but regretful Did You Wrong hints at the growth that is possible from less than ideal behaviour. For Joy (Anonymous), joy isn’t about just being “happy” all the time - it’s about relishing every element of your being.

The name ‘Joy (Anonymous)’ is taken from the work Henry did with Alcoholics Anonymous groups: it is a way to build a community around sharing joy. Their impromptu live sets are known as ‘meetings’; they encourage fans to share moments of joy to their website. They care deeply about the scene they’ve come up in and are determined not to leave it behind. Every show is another chance to reach out and connect with people who love to come together and revel in music as loud as it can go.

Support slots for Fred Again and The Streets, wild B2Bs with Fred and Skrillex, and a set at Four Tet’s Finsbury Park all-dayer this summer have given the duo the opportunity to live out childhood dreams and introduced their infectious live shows to new audiences at huge venues.

With an album as assured and joyful as Cult Classics on the horizon (and a killer collab with The Blessed Madonna coming up), they’re only going to reach higher heights. But the essence of Joy (Anonymous) remains on the South Bank. Between shows at Ally Pally in September, they dragged their camping chairs and gear back down to the banks of the Thames: and it just felt right.

The five members of Sun June spent their early years spread out across the United States, from the boonies of the Hudson Valley to the sprawling outskirts of LA. Having spent their college years within the gloomy, cold winters of the North East, Laura Colwell and Stephen Salisbury found themselves in the vibrant melting-pot of inspiration that is Austin, Texas. Meeting each other while working on Terrence Malick's 'Song to Song', the pair were immediately taken by the city's bustling small clubs and honky-tonk scene, and the fact that there was always an instrument within reach, always someone to play alongside. Coming alive in this newly discovered landscape, Colwell and Salisbury formed Sun June alongside Michael Bain on lead guitar, Sarah Schultz on drums, and Justin Harris on bass and recorded their debut album live to tape, releasing it via the city's esteemed Keeled Scales label in 2018. The band coined the term 'regret pop' to describe the music they made on the 'Years' LP. Though somewhat tongue in cheek, it made perfect sense ~ the gentle sway of their country leaning pop songs seeped in melancholy, as if each subtle turn of phrase was always grasping for something just out of reach. Sun June returns with Somewhere, a brand new album, out February 2021. It's a record that feels distinctly more present than its predecessor. In the time since, Colwell and Salisbury have become a couple, and it's had a profound effect on their work; if Years was about how loss evolves, Somewhere is about how love evolves. "We explore a lot of the same themes across it," Colwell says, "but I think there's a lot more love here." Somewhere is Sun June at their most decadent, a richly diverse album which sees them exploring bright new corners with full hearts and wide eyes. Embracing a more pop-oriented sound the album consists of eleven beautiful new songs and is deliberately more collaborative and fully arranged: Laura played guitar for the first time; band members swapped instruments, and producer Danny Reisch helped flesh out layers of synth and percussion that provides a sweeping undercurrent to the whole thing. Throughout Somewhere you can hear Sun June blossom into a living-and-breathing five-piece, the album formed from an exploratory track building process which results in a more formidable version of the band we once knew. 'Real Thing' is most indicative of this, a fully collaborative effort which encompasses all of the nuances that come to define the album. "Are you the real thing?" Laura Colwell questions in the song's repeated refrain. "Honey I'm the real thing," she answers back. They've called this one their 'prom' record; a sincere, alive-in-the-moment snapshot of the heady rush of love. "The prom idea started as a mood for us to arrange and shape the music to, which we hadn't done before," the band explains. " Prom isn't all rosy and perfect. The songs show you the crying in the bathroom,, the fear of dancing, the joy of a kiss - all the highs and all the lows." It's in both those highs and lows where Somewhere comes alive. Laura Colwell's voice is mesmerising throughout, and while the record is a document of falling in love, there's still room for her to wilt and linger, the vibrancy of the production creating beautiful contrasts for her voice to pull us through. Opening track 'Bad With Time' sets this tone from the outset, both dark and mysterious, sad and sultry as it fascinatingly unrolls. "I didn't mean what I said," Colwell sings. "But I wanted you to think I did." Somewhere showcases a gentle but eminently pronounced maturation of Sun June's sound, a second record full of quiet revelation, eleven songs that bristle with love and longing. It finds a band at the height of their collective potency, a marked stride forward from the band that created that debut record, but also one that once again is able to transport the listener into a fascinating new landscape, one that lies somewhere between the town and the city, between the head and the heart; neither here nor there, but certainly somewhere.

Heading to a new millennium, people in the 80s and 90s were looking for brighter days to come and Techno was the music of this utopic future, themed by rushed beats made by electronic instruments that resembled a new era of technology, endless excess and possibilities.

40 years later the world is more complicated and dystopian than ever as we face crises everywhere. Mental issues are a natural consequence of the troubled environments we live in and more people around the world suffer from them. At the same time, we haven't lost the appeal for euphoric and fast dancing, either to leave our problems behind or face them head-on on the sweaty dance floor.

This EP is dedicated to some of the feelings associated with the tribulations of mental issues. What seems like a dark take still points out that we are not alone, as music unites us being the source for help and change. Mental States 777_31 offers four sick cuts perfect for insane clubs - fast and furious like an attack, rushed and energetic embracing positivity in the darkness.

Chicago’s unmistakable sound has made them one of the best-selling music groups of all time, with over 100 million records sold worldwide! Chicago’s massive popularity extends to Christmas music. The group have released two RIAA Gold-Certified Christmas albums - Chicago 25 and What’s It Gonna Be, Santa? Both albums were celebrated with a Gold Record presentation to the band at the Greek Theatre in Los Angeles on August 19th. Rhino/Warner Music are releasing a new collection titled Chicago Greatest Christmas Hits, featuring their most popular Christmas songs. The album will be released 3rd November on red vinyl.

Vladislav Delay presents the fourth EP in his "Hide Behind The Silence" series with five 10" releases coming throughout 2023. Intuitive and raw music, momentary and reflective, released on Ripatti's own label "Rajaton".

Stillness is a myth. Consider concepts such as ”still water”, or ”still air” for that matter. Go to a restaurant, ask them for a glass of still water, hold it against the light and see where we’re at. Even though the water itself has been captured and imprisoned in the glass, it never stops breathing. It’s filled with tiny particles, dancing. Everything can be explained on a molecular level, but since we’re not scientists – and even if you happen to be – it’s the natural world of perception that moves me.

Still air is very similar. A hot summer’s day with zero wind feels completely still. It’s the closest I have felt to complete stillness. Or for a more urban adaptation, imagine the same vibe inside a normal apartment. In those moments, revelations and mind- blowing experiences can be had with experiments in stillness.
Try this: Just sit down for a minute on a sunny day, making sure there’s enough natural light. Do absolutely nothing. Try not to breathe for a bit. (If you need a mental anchor, you can play Cage’s 4’33” in your head but nothing else.) Watch the tiny dots of dust dancing :..’ ̈.:; ́ ́*°.,’:,. ̈ ̈ ̈ ̈:,.’
The movement is crazy, but the feeling of stillness comes from witnessing how subtle it is. In (perceived) complete stillness, every act of microscopic mobility seems to speak volumes. Yet, it feels both reassuring and oddly threatening that the stillness is never complete. What if we would need absolute stillness? Or is it just enough that we can perceive something as such? Extremes attract, so for both water and air, extraordinary movement is equally fascinating. That is also a luxury item of sorts. For us to enjoy a very ”loud” body of water or air, we need to be safe, in enough control of the situation. So when you are, it’s worthwhile to pay attention and take it all in.
A rapid flowing free with extreme strength and just barely in control. Look at that water go! No still water on this one, only ”sparkling”. A windy day when birds seem surprised how hard it is to fly, but in the end they make it. Trees bend but don’t break. The wind shows you its movement but doesn’t hurt you. It feels friendly, like a big clumsy dog that doesn’t quite understand its size.
It’s beautiful to be a guest of the elements, but not at the mercy of them. A new kind of dialogue forms.

Q&A with Sasu Ripatti:

1) Tell us something about the EP series ”Hide Behind the Silence”, what’s the idea and what can we expect?

Exploration of inaction. Of many kinds. In arts and in personal life, or at bigger and more serious levels. Questioning myself as a human being as well as an artist. Acknowledging the growing activism all around, and the very clear need for it, and how it reflects my own inaction.
Musically speaking, after Rakka, Isoviha and Speed Demon, I finally found some relief, but more importantly lost the need to go musically ever more outward and intensive. I felt quite strongly certain periods/moods from the past and they made me revisit some musical ideas or states of mind I was exploring early on.
It’s about live moments being captured, not much premeditation or editing. More intuitive and raw, even though the end result (to me) feels and sounds quite introspective and calm. It’s not very ambitious. Momentary and reflective.

2) Your music doesn’t sound very silent. Does it come from somewhere behind the silence?

Oh, this time to me it sounds quite quiet and playing with space if not silence. I don’t know what’s actually behind silence, but I think silence is the source of everything. We just don’t understand it yet.

3) What kind of thoughts or experiences gave inspiration to this series?

Writing this in Nov ’22, it’s not a stretch to say the world has been really unwell. Sometimes, like Mika Vainio put it, the world eats you up. I feel a bit like that. And I try to hide in my studio and stay away from it all, but it’s getting harder by the day. I’ve been questioning myself and thinking if what us artists are doing is worth anything, and whether it’s just a selfish thing I’ve been doing for the past 25 years, running away from everything. I haven’t come to a conclusion yet.

4) Is it easy for you to be in silence, or around silence?

Absolutely. I not only hide behind silence but I also love silence. It’s only since I started going back to nature as a grown-up person that I sensed and was enveloped by silence, true silence. I have begun to appreciate it a lot. I think all the people should spend more time in silence.

All tracks composed and produced by Sasu Ripatti.
Artwork by Marc Hohmann, photography by Shinnosuke Yoshimori.
Mastering by Stephan Mathieu for Schwebung Mastering.
Vinyl cut by SST Brueggemann.
Publishing by WARP Music Ltd.

Repress!

In the mid-1970s, a force of nature swept across the continental United States, cutting across all strata of race and class, rooting in our minds, our homes, our culture. It wasn’t The Exorcist, Goodbye Yellow Brick Road, or even bell-bottoms, but instead a book called The Secret Life of Plants. The work of occultist/former OSS agent Peter Tompkins and former CIA agent/dowsing enthusiast Christopher Bird, the books shot up the bestseller charts and spread like kudzu across the landscape, becoming a phenomenon. Seemingly overnight, the indoor plant business was in full bloom and photosynthetic eukaryotes of every genus were hanging off walls, lording over bookshelves, and basking on sunny window ledges. The science behind Secret Life was specious: plants can hear our prayers, they’re lie detectors, they’re telepathic, able to predict natural disasters and receive signals from distant galaxies. But that didn’t stop millions from buying and nurturing their new plants.

Perhaps the craziest claim of the book was that plants also dug music. And whether you purchased a snake plant, asparagus fern, peace lily, or what have you from Mother Earth on Melrose Avenue in Los Angeles (or bought a Simmons mattress from Sears), you also took home Plantasia, an album recorded especially for them. Subtitled “warm earth music for plants…and the people that love them,” it was full of bucolic, charming, stoner-friendly, decidedly unscientific tunes enacted on the new-fangled device called the Moog. Plants date back from the dawn of time, but apparently they loved the Moog, never mind that the synthesizer had been on the market for just a few years. Most of all, the plants loved the ditties made by composer Mort Garson.

Few characters in early electronic music can be both fearless pioneers and cheesy trend-chasers, but Garson embraced both extremes, and has been unheralded as a result. When one writer rhetorically asked: “How was Garson’s music so ubiquitous while the man remained so under the radar?” the answer was simple. Well before Brian Eno did it, Garson was making discreet music, both the man and his music as inconspicuous as a Chlorophytumcomosum. Julliard-educated and active as a session player in the post-war era, Garson wrote lounge hits, scored plush arrangements for Doris Day, and garlanded weeping countrypolitan strings around Glen Campbell’s “By the Time I Get to Phoenix.” He could render the Beatles and Simon & Garfunkel alike into easy listening and also dreamed up his own ditties. “An idear” as Garson himself would drawl it out. “I live with it, I walk it, I sing it.”

But as his daughter Day Darmet recalls: “When my dad found the synthesizer, he realized he didn’t want to do pop music anymore.” Garson encountered Robert Moog and his new device at the Audio Engineering Society’s West Coast convention in 1967 and immediately began tinkering with the device. With the Moog, those idears could be transformed. “He constantly had a song he was humming,” Darmet says. “At the table he was constantly tapping.” Which is to say that Mort pulled his melodies out of thin air, just like any household plant would.

The Plantae kingdom grew to its height by 1976, from DC Comics’ mossy superhero Swamp Thing to Stevie Wonder’s own herbal meditation, Journey Through the Secret Life of Plants. Nefarious manifestations of human-plant interaction also abounded, be it the grotesque pods in Invasion of the Body Snatchers or the pothead paranoia of the US Government spraying Mexican marijuana fields with the herbicide paraquat (which led to the rise in homegrown pot by the 1980s). And then there’s the warm, leafy embrace of Plantasia itself.

“My mom had a lot of plants,” Darmet says. “She didn’t believe in organized religion, she believed the earth was the best thing in the whole world. Whatever created us was incredible.” And she also knew when her husband had a good song, shouting from another room when she heard him humming a good idear. Novel as it might seem, Plantasia is simply full of good tunes.

Garson may have given the album away to new plant and bed owners, but a decade later a new generation could hear his music in another surreptitious way. Millions of kids bought The Legend of Zelda for their Nintendo Entertainment System back in 1986 and one distinct 8-bit tune bears more than a passing resemblance to album highlight “Concerto for Philodendron and Pothos.” Garson was never properly credited for it, but he nevertheless subliminally slipped into a new generations’ head, helping kids and plants alike grow.

Hearing Plantasia in the 21st century, it seems less an ode to our photosynthesizing friends by Garson and more an homage to his wife, the one with the green thumb that made everything flower around him. “My dad would be totally pleased to know that people are really interested in this music that had no popularity at the time,” Darmet says of Plantasia’snew renaissance. “He would be fascinated by the fact that people are finally understanding and appreciating this part of his musical career that he got no admiration for back then.” Garson seems to be everywhere again, even if he’s not really noticed, just like a houseplant.

Run-D.M.C.'s Raising Hell remains the turning point at which hip-hop crashed through mainstream barriers and never left. Anchored by the crossover smash "Walk This Way," the 1986 blockbuster still sounds like a revolution unfolding in real time. It has everything – hard-rock riffs, turntable scratching, itchy rhythms, hit singles – not the least of which are the trio's invigorating raps and inseparable chemistry. And now it's the first rap record afforded audiophile treatment, courtesy of Mobile Fidelity.

Sourced from the original master tapes and pressed on MoFi SuperVinyl, the reissue label's numbered-edition 180g 33RPM SuperVinyl LP elevates Raising Hell to sonic heights on par with its musical and cultural significance. Ranked the 123rd Greatest Album of All Time by Rolling Stone, 43rd on Pitchfork's Greatest Albums of the 1980s, one of the Top 100 Albums of All Time by TIME – and included on "Best of" lists by Spin, Paste, XXL, Entertainment Weekly, and basically every other significant media outlet – the triple-platinum effort rocks the house.

Benefitting from the ultra-low noise floor and groove definition of SuperVinyl, Raising Hell unleashes a torrent of massive dynamics and tsunami of frequency-plumbing details underlined by Rick Rubin's taut, crisp, albeit raw and streetwise production. Just as the Queens-based group both defined what hip-hop could represent – and displayed just how big it could get – Rubin's work melded ear-worm hooks, savvy drum loops, metal-leaning guitars, and, of course, Run and D.M.C.'s cross-fire lyrical interplay into watertight frameworks bursting with ideas, tones, samples, and beats. Heard anew on Mobile Fidelity vinyl, Raising Hell is in every regard the aural equivalent of a direct-to-console 1970s classic. And it sounds as fresh as hell.

As for the music, it ranks among the most influential, inventive, and invigorating ever released – rap or otherwise. Vanguard artists such as Ice-T, Eminem, Jay-Z, and Public Enemy's Chuck D – who declared it his all-time favorite and "the first record that made me realize this was an album-oriented genre" – have testified on behalf of its brilliance. And never mind the presence of the Top 5 single "Walk This Way," whose power helped make Aerosmith's Steven Tyler and Joe Perry relevant for the first time in nearly a decade – and literally put Run-D.M.C. in bedrooms ranging from the Bronx to Bartlett to Bad Axe.

Look instead to the rest of the entirely filler-free set, be it the corkscrew turns, slippery wordplay, and "My Sharona"-meets-"Mickey" mixology of the boisterous "It's Tricky," the fat-but-minimized bass grooves and warped turntable wobble of the hysterical "You Be Illin'," chimes-accented inertia and boombox-on- shoulder thunder of the now-iconic "Peter Piper," or voice-as-percussion attack of the funky "Is It Live." With Raising Hell, the answer to the question is always affirmative – a sensation bolstered by the fact the group always had something to say.

The definition of Golden Age Hip-Hop in every way, Run-D.M.C. avoids the negativity and misogyny that later plagued the style, spinning assertive tales about identity (the biographical and culture-changing "My Adidas"), work ethics ("Perfection"), and, most notably, pride (the Harriet Tubman- and Malcom X.-referencing "Proud to Be Black"). Pavement-packed inner cities, tree-lined suburbs, and cornfield-rimmed rural areas would never again be the same. And rocking a rhyme that's right on time would become trickier than ever.

“I believe that if they ever had a singing Olympics Donald and I would get (into the) top 3, if not win some gold. If you put us all together and let us have a singoff, we could hold our own with anybody from any era. That maybe sounds a little prideful, but that’s what I believe.” Phil Everly’s words to author and music historian Joe Smith will ring very true to anyone who listens to this compilation. All the tracks on it are half a century old, yet sound as fresh as ever. The fact is, that the harmonies Don and Phil brought to the charts were widely influential on a generation of pop performers on both sides of the Atlantic. For most of their recordings, Don sang the baritone and Phil the higher tenor part. Paul Simon and Art Garfunkel were just one of the acts that copied the Everlys, while Bob Dylan added to the praise by saying, ‘We owe these guys everything. They started it all.’

Repress! We at Now-Again unearthed so much information about the bands that recorded the definitive disco and modern soul contained in our recently launched Soul Cal anthology that we decided we had no choice but to release an album and a book at the same time. Well, following that line, the music contained on Loving On The Flip Side music is too damn good to be anonymously relaunched, decades after musical visionaries blended the best of heavy funk and sweet soul into a unified whole. And simply telling the stories of these vocalists and bands without allowing their lovelorn pleas to be heard again wasn’t an option. Thus, Loving On The Flip Side again offers the enthused a chance to listen to, read about and reflect on another great burst of black American creativity: the creation of the sublime
genre we like to call “sweet funk.”
It seems laughable to skip past Thomas East’s “Slipping Around” 7” for the cheesy funk of ‘Just A Trip,” or to listen obsessively to Lou Ragland’s instrumental funk on the Hot Chocolate LP and ignore his indolent-yet-stirring “We Had True Love.” Yet we did just that, until we first heard the Darling Dears and Funky Heavy’s beautiful
two-sider nearly ten years back. This was the record that set Loving On The Flip Side in motion, as the Darling Dears and Funky Heavy’s two songs precipitated the sweet funk genre: the dichotomy of Funky Heavy’s skull snapping rhythm section and the teenage Dears’ angelic harmonies didn’t sound like anything we’d heard before. That discovery set off a decade long search for the band and culminated in their discovery, the documenting of their stories, the emergence of their master tapes and the inclusion of their songs on Loving On The Flip Side.
The excitement we felt while listening to the Darling Dears and Funky Heavy’s masterworks forced us back into the field, in search of other sweet funk swooners and beat-heavy ballads to round out this anthology. The opportunity to present anew such wondrous soul music made the exhaustive process that produced Loving On The
Flip Side worthwhile, and allowed us to collect one-offs that escaped prior investigations into the deep funk and sweet soul genres.

I Talk To Water, the fifth album for Kompakt by Danish producer Kölsch, is the artist’s most personal statement yet. While all the trademarks that make his music so popular and powerful are still present – lush, melodic techno; swooping, trance-like figures; sensuous, shivery texturology – I Talk To Water is also a deep and intimate rapprochement with family and history, a beautiful, finely detailed document of loss and memory, and a tracing of the long, unbroken thread of grief that runs through our lives once we’ve lost those we loved.

The emotional core of I Talk To Water, then, is a cache of recordings by Kölsch’s father, Patrick Reilly, who passed away in 2003 from brain cancer. With time rendered elastic by the pandemic and its associated lockdowns, its sudden, alienating shifts in everyday living, Kölsch found himself reflecting on his father’s passing and ongoing spiritual presence, thinking about how best to memorialise such a significant figure in his own life. Those recordings opened a gateway, of sorts, for Kölsch to move through – a way to bring past and present together and entwine them in a sensitive, poetic manner.

Kölsch’s father was a musician – “touring in the sixties and seventies, in the Middle East especially, he was doing the whole hippy trail, playing guitar, and wrote some songs over the years,” he recalls. “But all in all, he decided to focus on family rather than pursue a musical career.” Reilly kept playing and writing music over the years, though Kölsch hadn’t listened to the material for some time: “I’d never had the guts to listen to it, because I just felt too fragile listening to his voice. It’s such a tough thing to go through.”

During the pandemic, though, Kölsch listened through the fragmented body of work that his father had produced over the years. “I decided I’m gonna finally release my dad’s music twenty years after his passing,” he reflects. “This whole album is about the process of loss, and for me it’s been one of my main driving forces in my musical life, the whole emotional aspect of whatever I’ve done has been based in that feeling that he’s not there anymore.”

Recordings of Reilly appear on three songs across I Talk To Water. His guitars drift pensively across “Grape”, offering a lush thread of melody that Kölsch wraps with clicking, driftwood rhythms and droning, melancholy bass. “Tell Me” is a lovely three-minute art song, a sadly beautiful reflection, minimally adorned with gentle keys and a muted pulse. And on the closing “It Ends Where It Began”, Kölsch lets his father’s acoustic guitar take centre stage for a lament that’s unexpectedly folksy, a guitar soli dream, which Reilly originally recorded in 1996. “He actually recorded it for my first album that never came out,” Kölsch reveals, “and I had it sitting around forever. That is purely him.”

These three imagined collaborations between father and son are poised and delicate. But their relationship also marks the gorgeous music Kölsch has made across the rest of I Talk To Water, from the itchy yet lush “Pet Sound” (titled in tribute to one of Reilly’s favourite albums), the flickering synths and yearning vocal samples that slide through “Khenpo”, the ecstatic shuddering that marks “Only Get Better”, or “Implant”’s slow-motion pans and subtle reveals.

There’s also the title song, where Kölsch is joined by guest Perry Farrell (Jane’s Addiction, Porno For Pyros), singing a mantra for internal reflection: “I talk to water / Searching for myself / Looking for answers / Oceans of you.” Farrell’s appearance brings another timbre, another spirit to the album, aligning neatly with his recent interest in electronic music. “He was completely taken by this idea of talking to water,” Kölsch says, thinking about the ways we collectively lean towards the natural world as a comfort and a listener, a guide through mourning, a way to map out the terrain of the heart. This mapping is something that Kölsch has proven remarkably adept at through the years; dance music for both body and mind, but also both for the here-and-now, and for the hereafter.

“I Talk To Water”, das fünfte Album des dänischen Produzenten Kölsch für Kompakt, ist zweifellos das persönlichste Statement des Künstlers bislang. Während alle Markenzeichen, die seine Musik so beliebt und kraftvoll machen, immer noch präsent sind – üppige, melodische Techno-Tracks; schwebende, tranceartige Elemente; sinnliche, fiebrige Texturen – ist “I Talk To Water” auch eine tiefe und intime Annäherung an Familie und Geschichte. Es ist ein wunderschönes, fein ausgearbeitetes Dokument des Verlusts und der Erinnerung, und es verfolgt den langen, ungebrochenen Faden der Trauer, der durch unser Leben läuft, sobald wir diejenigen verloren haben, die wir liebten.

Der emotionale Kern von “I Talk To Water” besteht aus Aufnahmen von Kölschs Vater, Patrick Reilly, der 2003 an Hirnkrebs verstarb. Durch die Pandemie und ihre damit verbundenen Lockdowns, die plötzlichen, entfremdenden Veränderungen im Alltag, fand Kölsch sich in Gedanken an den Tod seines Vaters und seine fortwährende spirituelle Präsenz wieder. Er überlegte, wie er eine so bedeutende Figur in seinem eigenen Leben am besten verewigen könnte. Diese Aufnahmen öffneten ihm sozusagen ein Portal, um Vergangenheit und Gegenwart miteinander zu verbinden und sie auf sensible und poetische Weise zu verweben.

Kölschs Vater war Musiker – “er tourte in den sechziger und siebziger Jahren, vor allem im Nahen Osten, auf dem Hippie Trail, spielte Gitarre und schrieb im Laufe der Jahre einige Songs”, erinnert sich Kölsch. “Aber alles in allem entschied er sich, sich auf die Familie zu konzentrieren, anstatt eine musikalische Karriere zu verfolgen.” Reilly spielte und schrieb jedoch im Laufe der Jahre weiterhin Musik, obwohl Kölsch das Material lange Zeit nicht angehört hatte: “Ich hatte nie den Mut, es anzuhören, weil ich mich einfach zu zerbrechlich fühlte, seine Stimme anzuhören. Es ist so schwer, das durchzustehen.”

Während der Pandemie hörte sich Kölsch jedoch durch das fragmentierte Werk, das sein Vater im Laufe der Jahre produziert hatte. “Ich beschloss, die Musik meines Vaters zwanzig Jahre nach seinem Tod endlich zu veröffentlichen”, reflektiert er. “Dieses ganze Album handelt von dem Verlustprozess, welcher für mich generell eine der Hauptantriebskräfte in meinem musikalischen Leben ist. Der ganze emotionale Aspekt von dem, was ich getan habe, basierte auf dem Gefühl, dass er nicht mehr da ist.”

Auf “I Talk To Water” sind Aufnahmen von Reilly in drei Songs zu hören. Seine Gitarren ziehen nachdenklich durch “Grape”, bieten einen üppigen Melodiefaden, den Kölsch mit klickenden, treibenden Rhythmen und dröhnendem, melancholischem Bass umwickelt. “Tell Me” ist ein schönes dreiminütiges Kunstlied, eine traurig-schöne Reflexion, minimal geschmückt mit sanften Tasten und einem gedämpften Puls. Und auf dem Abschlusstrack “It Ends Where It Began” lässt Kölsch die akustische Gitarre seines Vaters im Mittelpunkt stehen, ein überraschend folkiger Klagegesang, den Reilly ursprünglich 1996 aufgenommen hatte. “Er hat es tatsächlich für mein erstes Album aufgenommen, das nie veröffentlicht wurde”, enthüllt Kölsch, “und ich hatte es ewig liegen.”

Diese drei erdachten Kollaborationen zwischen Vater und Sohn sind ausgewogen und zart. Aber ihre Beziehung prägt auch die wunderschöne Musik, die Kölsch im Rest von “I Talk To Water” geschaffen hat, angefangen bei dem nervösen, aber üppigen “Pet Sound” (benannt als Hommage an eines von Reillys Lieblingsalben), den flimmernden Synthesizern und sehnsüchtigen Vocal-Samples in “Khenpo”, den ekstatischen Erschütterungen in “Only Get Better” oder den langsamen Schwenks und subtilen Enthüllungen in “Implant”.

Es gibt auch den Titelsong, in dem Kölsch von Gast Perry Farrell (Jane’s Addiction, Porno For Pyros) begleitet wird, der ein Mantra für die innere Reflexion singt: “I talk to water / Searching for myself / Looking for answers / Oceans of you.” Farrells Auftritt bringt eine weitere Klangfarbe, einen weiteren Geist in das Album, der gut zu seinem jüngsten Interesse an elektronischer Musik passt. “Er war völlig fasziniert von der Idee, mit Wasser zu sprechen”, sagt Kölsch und denkt darüber nach, wie wir kollektiv zur Natur als Trost, Zuhörer, Führer durch die Trauer neigen, um die Gelände des Herzens zu kartieren. Diese Kartierung ist etwas, in dem Kölsch im Laufe der Jahre erstaunlich geschickt war; Tanzmusik für Körper und Geist, sowohl für das Hier und Jetzt, als auch für das Leben danach.

Orange vinyl, 100 only

Cardiff-based, DIY-folk-pop collective, Quiet Marauder, are set to release their 5th album at the end of October 2023. This follows on from their madcap 111-song debut album, MEN (2013), as well as the more recent Tiny Men Parts (2020) and The Gift (2021), and continues their long-established relationship both with their label, Bubblewrap Collective, and Canadian collaborators, The Burning Hell.
Recorded in a Snowbird Studios pop-up in Lourinha, Portugal, Introducing Malcolm Del Monte continues the band’s fascination with high concepts and musical, album-length storytelling. At its core, it is an album about self-identity, isolation, and our innate fluctuations as human beings. Set during the pandemic, the album's a very loosely autobiographical (read: almost entirely false) account of band leader Simon M. Read's day-to-day life during Covid lockdowns with partner, Kadesha Drija, and imaginary friend, Malcolm Del Monte.
Choosing to largely avoid the topic of the pandemic altogether, Introducing Malcolm Del Monte instead charts the highs and lows of these living arrangements. These range from outrageous daytime drinking (high) to disagreements on the nature of perversion (low), with the first half of the album covering Malcolm’s emergence and ultimate expulsion from the house. With his absence being sorely felt, the second half sheds light on the alternative voices looking to fill that Malcolm-shaped space: a murderous green giant; a despondent Milk Tray Man; and a broken-necked, hypersexual Jet from Gladiators.
As with their previous story-based albums, the foreground narratives act to enable background allusions to other core concerns: the power of nostalgia; advertising and cultural consumption; well-being and isolation; balancing acts of the self. Ultimately, the album’s message is of striking a balance between self-questioning and improvement, and most of all, not being too hard on yourself when things don’t feel quite right.
Sonically and seamlessly ranging from alt-folk to industrial synth to melodic indie-pop, Introducing Malcolm Del Monte covers a lot of ground. Injected with the musicality of Quiet Marauder themselves, as well as Canadian kindred spirits, The Burning Hell, instrumentation includes flute, piano, chunky bass, acoustic and electric guitar, programmed beats, synthscapes, bamboo clarinet, bongos, and a heap load of vocals. Indeed, alongside the main lead voices of Simon M. Read, Kadesha Drija and Malcolm Del Monte (Rowan Liggett) there are guest performances from My Name Is Ian and The Burning Hell’s Mathias Kom.
The album will be preceded by lead single and video Momma Mia! I Made You Some Sangria! on 22nd September,

Various Color pressing
I spent a lot of time crossing the Detroit/Windsor boarder tunnel. - My family lives half in the US and half in Canada and my father crossed daily for for work and materials. My brother and I would sit on old paint cans in the back of his work truck. long trips to home depot in the hopes that we could get a rally’s banana milkshake before heading home. - I hated that work truck, but we loved the trips, no matter how mundane. We would spend hours crossing that boarder tunnel when it was busy, our bottoms would hurt from the metal paint cans. When i was in high school i would smuggle cigarettes to sell to the Canadian kids, it was a good business. The dark tunnel in disrepair built over 90 years ago felt like a relic of the past, its leaky walls and pale yellow tiles were always crumbling around you. It was claustrophobic and uncomfortable. But the tunnel made your mind wander with thoughts of what was above you, giant cargo ships or sea monsters. It was an anxious place, the uncertainty of its structure or the dreaded boarder patrol on the other side. Would be be pulled in and searched? would the carton of camels i hid under the seat be found? - It was a special place and a special time. These sounds are about traffic and the movement and time in this strange tunnel.

Mit “Twentysomething” gelang Jamie Cullum der internationale Durchbruch. Zum 20-jährigen Jubiläum erscheint das Album jetzt erstmals auf Vinyl!

“Twentysomething” machte den Engländer 2003 noch nicht ganz zum Popstar, aber immerhin zum bestverkaufenden britischen Jazzkünstler in der Geschichte der UK-Charts. Das Album, auf dem der Sänger und Pianist eine peppige Mischung aus Jazzstandards, Pop-Covern und eigenen Songs bot, verkaufte sich weltweit über 2,5 Millionen Mal und brachte Jamie 11 x Platin, 11 x Gold und 2 x Silber ein.

Zum Jubiläum erscheint “Twentysomething” als ”20th Anniversary Edition” auf Doppel-LP mit fünf BonusTracks, darunter die Single Version des Ohrwurms “Everlasting Love”, die Jamie 2004 für den Soundtrack des Blockbusters “Bridget Jones: The Edge of Reason” aufgenommen hatte.

Kompakt unveils the third volume of Jörg Burger’s Velvet Desert Music compilation series, dedicated to music that hits the sweet spot between the cinematic, the (pop) ambient, and the psychedelic. With Velvet Desert Music Vol. 3, Burger and his friends wander afar, taking trips away from, or adjacent to, the dancefloor that’s acted so long as the crucible for the Kompakt aesthetic. Like its predecessors, it’s a gorgeous, lambent collection of late-night mood music.

Because it’s such a broad church, Velvet Desert Music admits all kinds of new experiences, as well, with Burger looking for music that "leads out of the desert into the velvet universe". Indeed, of all the volumes in the series, this third instalment feels closest to an album made by a true collective. The roster has changed, with new contributors Flug 8 and Seb Martel, both with his trio Las Ondas Marteles and with Chocolate Genius and Zsela as La Finca, joining regulars The Novotones, Mount Obsidian, The Golden Bug, Paulor and Sascha Funke.

Burger himself reappears, too, alongside Fritz Ackermann (of The Novotones), Max Würden and Thore Pfeiffer, in The Velvet Circle. Their contributions are pure lush life electronica: “Our Tribe” hitches a ride with a low-slung groove, flickering psychedelic reels of acoustic guitar traipsing across moody bass and taffeta layers of drone; their opening remix of Flug 8’s “Puerto Rico” gently introduces the album with softly tangling electronic tones, while guitars, drenched in reverb, pirouette in the background. A Mount Obsidian remix of “Sacrosanct” by Burger’s The Black Frame -project is a swirling treat for the ears.

La Finca’s electronics and voice miniature, “What Clouds Say”, is a masterclass in poetic restraint; Martel’s “Dark Mambo”, remixed by Burger, is one of the collection’s big surprises, for it indeed does what the title says, a drifting, surrealist take on the mambo form, full of pensive chords, rich with unrequited longing, a breathy saxophone whispering under the song’s sly rhythmic carriage.

Elsewhere, The Novotones chime in with a slyly propulsive, Krautrock-esque charmer, “Liberty Bell”, and the guitar-led tone-drift of “Valley of Oblivion”; Paulor’s “The Last Coke in the Desert” is a chiming, lilting dreamscape; Mount Obsidian are joined by vocalist Charlotte Jestaedt for two modern takes on early-hours art song, “Marole” and “Fade”; Sascha Funke’s “Mathias Rust” is a lavish dancefloor dream, vocal samples drifting through the song as it slowly envelops the listener in its opulent radiance.

This is just a taste of the rich pleasures of Velvet Desert Music Vol. 3, a triumph of a compilation that takes the psychedelic visions of its predecessors and looks for the desert within, a dusty kiss, a road-movie hallucination flickering on the listener’s eyelids, a cinematic projection from deep inside the mind.

Horros, the third album by Finnish sonic voyagers Virta, is issued in September 2023. With Horros, Virta build on and take into new terrain the questing, jazz-tinged electroacoustic adventures of their last album, December 2016’s Hurmos, and its predecessor, their November 2012 debut Tales From Deep Waters. Still recognisable as who they were, the Virta of 2023 now delves further than ever before into their inner world to craft their most affecting, most atmospheric and most cinematic music to date. Even so, Horros does not need to be accompanied by images – it envelops so much that signposts are unnecessary. The music itself is the guide through this sound world. The creators of this environment are Antti Hevosmaa (electronics, flugelhorn, trumpet, vocals), Erik Fräki (electronics, drums, percussion, vocals) and Heikki Selamo (bass, electronics, guitar, lap steel, vocals). Together as Virta – which translates from Finnish as electricity, energy or stream – the trio were acclaimed as a “cornerstone of Finnish experimental music” by Finnish daily by newspaper Savon Sanomat in 2016. Horros will ensure this status becomes the case internationally. Beyond Finland, Virta already have dedicated listeners in Canada, France, Germany, Poland, the United States and the UK. Reflecting on Horros, Antti says “We’ve always made music we want to listen to ourselves. We’ve asked what is the sound we want to listen to? We are digging deeper now, with new elements – more vocals. Lyrics too, which we haven’t done before.” Without sacrificing who they are, Virta now have a wider scope than ever. “A key idea with Virta is to make the music you hear in your head and share it with people,” adds Heikki. “Yes, to share what is in our heads,” agrees Erik. “But also, it becomes live music, that’s the point

It is with great fanfare that we proudly announce the return of the esteemed improvisational chainsaw blues trio Young James Long. Young James Long formed in Dallas in 2003 with a weekly residency at a local (and appropriately named) dive bar called Muddy Waters. PW Long (guitar, vocals) and Kirkland James (guitar) had known each other socially since the 90s when Long was fronting Quarterstick Records’ Mule, and James was playing with Tenderloin. Long would go onto make a series of incredible solo records under his own name and that of PW Long’s Reelfoot and James would play with Alejandro Escovedo (among many others) before their paths finally crossed again. They recruited Taylor Young (Hi-Fi Drowning, Young Heart Attack, The Polyphonic Spree) on drums and a raw, blues-punk-rock-and-roll band emerged fully formed, songs flying out of them with enthusiasm and ease. They recorded the You Ain’t Know The Man EP with their friend (and eventual Grammy winner) Stuart Sikes not long after. The EP came out via Southern Records in 2007, and thanks to the tasteful ears of the people this side of the pond, a European tour followed. If you saw that tour, you’ll agree that it felt like the band were really hitting their stride. However, here we are in 2023, so what happened? Answer: geography - the age-old enemy of creativity. One member left Texas and the others (being the extremely able and skilled musicians that they are) were perpetually wooed away to play in other bands. Everyone’s got bills to pay, right? And with that, things just kind of fizzled out. Long even insists he quit playing music around 2010. One of the most recognisable voices in underground music: out of the game. Incredible. Inconceivable.
Then, last year we at Wrong Speed got an email asking if we’d be interested in some new music Young James Long had been working on. We thought it might be a joke. They sent some mixes through, and it became very quickly apparent that it was anything but. Turns out the trio had started chatting about music again in 2020 (before the world had other plans) and had finally made their first full-length album Orogeny in the summer of 2021. Orogeny sounds live and thrillingly immediate, as though all obstacles between their delivery and your ears have been removed and discarded as irrelevant. There is no filler, no treading of water at any point. Amps buzz, songs teeter on the edge of collapse, you feel like you’re sitting in the middle of the band as they play and it’s a pretty sweet place to be. The album contains a whopping 17 songs, most under 2 minutes long. They don’t want to waste your time, or most importantly (after sixteen years away), theirs. If you’re familiar with Long’s previous bands, you’ll know he has a rare gift for pairing extreme volume with extreme tenderness and it’s thrilling to find that gift present and correct after over a decade away. And that voice – holy shit, that voice. He can go from a Beefheart howl to the sweetest country baritone in the space of a single line. In James and Young he’s found the perfect foils, a power trio of instinctive and soulful musicians able to conjure shining gems of magic out of the grit and the dirt. Young James Long is risen from the ashes – it’s a miracle!

The Mapendo album of the Mighty Cavaliers, up to today, has been shrouded in mystery. If you look at the original cover of this very rare Kenyan funk-infused album all you will find are the names of the engineer and the producer, as EMI Kenya omitted the names of the musicians and the songwriters. Digging deeper a rather sinister story of deceit develops whereby Mapendo becomes symbolic for all what was wrong about the Kenyan record industry in the 1970s, and the music industry in Africa as a whole. As this maltreatment of artists proved endemic throughout the continent, although little talked about.

One of the three surviving members of the Mighty Cavaliers, bass player Bonnie Wanda - who started his career in 1971 with Gloria Africana - vividly remembers participating in the recording of the two albums the band made in 1976 and 1977 - Fisherman and Mapendo - and how they, especially on the last album, got short-changed by shrewd record label executives. In the 1960s it was mostly Indian and European record bosses that called the shots and usually gave musicians the chance of a one-off payment for their session time and recorded songs or wait for - hopefully - a generous royalty check. In most cases records didn't sell more than a thousand copies with an occasional hit selling in the tens of thousands, so musicians were reluctant to register themselves with the Music Copyright Society of Kenya. Although without doing so one couldn't receive royalties.

'For two years the Mighty Cavaliers performed five nights a week at the Starlight Club for five hour sets.

The re-release of Mapendo, the first of the German Want Some Records label, is another exciting puzzle piece in the tapestry of groovy Kenyan music. It proves that there are still great gems out there to be re-discovered for audiences worldwide.

Text written by Michiel van Oosterhout

This Album is dedicated to the musicians
Bonnie Wanda, Rashid Salim, Vuli Yeni, Juma Waweru Njuguna and Athmani 'guitar boy'."

SG is none other than Andrew Pekler returning to faitiche with an album of sentimental guitar escapism. For Lovers Only / Rain Suite features ten tracks made using only an electric guitar and a handful of effects pedals (plus some additional recordings of rain) and finds Pekler once again attempting to reconicile his tendencies towards kitsch, experimentation and minimalism.

What does Pekler's pseudonym SG stand for? Sentimental Guitar? Sound Gallery? Shy Guy? Sad Gnosis? Saudade Glamour? Soft Goth? We don't know, but we asked notorious Chicago romantic Sam Prekop for his take on the album – his reply:

--

It’s a wonder where the rivers go and far, how fast or slow.

Just seconds to remember, who can forget, when you are lost.

I think to recount every step, in both hands, eyes open, the clouds unfold, one two three. Every other step, just as well.

Where the moss is soft, you know strong. How many hours, days? I could have been careful, did I forget?

Never mind. Waking up, in these arms, where the rivers go, slow. One two three, one two three.

The inaugural release on KMRU's own fledgling OFNOT imprint, 'Dissolution Grip' is an ambitious project that emerged from his studies at Berlin's prestigious UDK. The Kenyan composer and sound artist is best known for his field recording work, and as he traveled across Europe and the wider world for regular live performances, he made a point to snapshot each city. But the more he studied and the more he examined his practice, the more KMRU began to wonder what the purpose of these recordings were, and what bearing they might actually have on his self-expression. Simultaneously, he'd begun to dive more wholeheartedly into the world of synthesis. In a way, synthesis is the most basic form of sound, and KMRU started to wonder not just how he could harness these sounds but how he might be able to more dynamically combine them with field recordings.

Guided by Jasmine Guffond at Berlin's Universität der Künste (better known as UDK), KMRU looked at waveforms - the visual representation of sound itself - and embarked on a process where he would write scores from the shapes, gradually turning the scores into raw synth sounds. Considering the spaces he was inspired by and shuttled through, KMRU decided that instead of using environmental recordings as an aesthetic marker, he would use these captured moments to guide the waveforms. So each sound is birthed from a field recording, but none of those recordings are audible in their original form. For example, on the digital bonus track 'Along A Wall', KMRU recorded in an old shack on his family's compound in Nairobi, where wind was shaking the building to its foundations. Listening to the finished piece, we can hear subtle electronic tones that rub and vibrate against each other, slowly saturating and mimicking the erratic motion of the wind. The original recording has been removed, but the feeling remains.

The album's opening side 'Till Hurricane Bisect' is a 15-minute epic that evolves at its own glacial pace, carefully transforming blustering wind sounds into gasping drones, glassy oscillations and choked distortion. Cosmic and meditative, it's a testament to KMRU's skill as a sound engineer and patience as a composer, combining the gentle world building of his acclaimed Editions Mego album 'Peel' with the rumbling energy of 'Limen', last year's collaboration with Aho Ssan. On the title track, KMRU takes the opportunity to flex his orchestral muscle, conducting a cast of warbling synth tones into a durational symphony. Starting as quietly as a whisper, 'Dissolution Grip' expands at its own pace until it's a dense wall of harmony, powerful but never completely overwhelming. It's music embedded with a rich sense of place that informs us of KMRU's past and present, and signals where his musical philosophy might take us in the future.

If the name of this collection of traxxx offends you, move on — there’s no hope for you here. If, on the other hand, Toribio’s salacious fun-pun cracked your cool exterior, here’s an introduction to a set of bangers that helps exemplify New York’s increasingly exuberant dancefloor, and what producer/DJ Cesar Toribio brings to it. His is a ribald, rhythmic take on dance music, neither for the weak of musical character (purists need not apply) nor for the weak of ass (-shaking). In fact, the proof is right there, in Toribio’s label’s and monthly party’s name: Bring Dat Ass. This command is not optional, but *the* key ingredient for a good time.

The five songs Toribio has created for “Tongue In Cheeks,” BDA’s first release, comprise a horny melting pot of tribal house and Linn-drum plug-ins, minimalist synth textures and basslines, hi-hats reminiscent of electro and freestyle classics, some of which are infused with New York’s Latin club history and futures. The lead-off track, “No Pare,” is based on the producer’s 808-driven reinvention of the call-and-response hook from Proyecto Uno’s 1993 merengue-house smash “El Tiburón,” marking the first time the group has ever cleared a sample of this Nuyodominican classic. We predict that “No Pare” will be a Fall 2023 monster.

Guest vocal appearances by The Illustrious Blacks and Maluca, cornerstones of different dance-floor scenes in a city currently hitting peak-energy levels, show the breadth of Toribio’s regard for community: There is a lot of crossover to how the punky Dominicana MC from Washington Heights chooses to slang-tastically “Werk It Out,” and how the Neo-Afro-Futuristic-Psychedelic-Surrealistic-Hippys Monstah Black and Manchildblack infuse a dollop of booty into “Work Dat Shit.” And the two different metallic beats point at seemingly separate parts of Toribio’s musical heritage uniting. There’s no formula, but if there was, it would be: Make it sexy. Make it (consensually) grindy. Make it funny to the point of ridiculous but so funky that the laughter becomes more fuel to the joyous momentum propelling the movement. Then make it home — or try to.

Cesar Toribio’s home is, originally Tampa — and the DR, where he’d spend summers with family. He was a drum-corps prodigy who went to Berklee to become a jazz drummer and be like Gil Evans. He idolized Miles’ orchestral arranger’s work as much as Dilla’s beats, but then discovered house music, so it was a wrap. The 2021 band album Toribio made under the name Conclave — which included his sister Sharin and musicians from such great projects as Standing On the Corner, No Regular Play and Irreversible Entanglements — unearthed the work of a singer-songwriter-arranger-producer of immeasurably nuanced, soulful jazz-house music. But when Toribio started DJing more and more, he decided to listen to the devil on his shoulder who told him to Bring Dat Ass. As Cesar damn-well knows, it’s the devil who has the better jokes and holds the better parties, so his ears perked up. “Tongue in Cheeks” is the music Toribio says he made to play at these parties, because he can’t find it anywhere else. It’s hard to disagree.