Cerca:we are what we made

High Focus Records are excited to share a new full length offering from prolific Brighton based producer Mr Slipz, this time with a fresh label signing, Australian rapper Nelson Dialect. A landmark release and signing for High Focus with Nelson being the first international signing on the label. UK listeners might have first heard Nelson collaborating with Verbz & Mr Slipz on the song ‘Hope’ from their acclaimed LP ‘Radio Waves’ released on High Focus in 2020. Nelson has a cult following in his own right in Australia, and previously released music on the legendary U.S label Fat Beats to great acclaim. Now teaming up with one of the most exciting and respected UK producers, Nelson & Mr Slipz deliver ‘Ever Since’. A statement piece by two artists with well over a decade spent on their craft which sounds as urgent and refreshing as if it were their first time releasing music. The album’s title is a reference to the endless quest for a timeless sound, reflecting the creative partnerships which spark from a seemingly forever existing thread of music. The two artists crossed paths whilst Nelson was on tour in Brighton, and a chance introduction to Slipz made this album a reality. As fate would have it, due to a cancellation of plans and changing of schedules during Nelson’s tour, the pair ended up in the studio for 8 days straight together which is when the bulk of the album was created. They each saw this as a cosmic alignment and thus played into the albums astrological artwork themes and overarching concept. Striving to capture the lightning in a bottle moment, what resulted musically on this album was an inspired surge of energy and intense creative output that is felt across the entire LP. Equal parts personal and lyrically dextrous, Nelson explores a multitude of concepts over the hard hitting drums and jazzy samples producer Mr Slipz is renowned for through his previous work with artists including Verbz, Kofi Stone, Vitamin G & Datkid among many more. The album features a slew of impressive guest verses including label mates Vitamin G & Verbz on the emphatic ‘Oxford Scholars’. Two legends Jehst & Confucius MC combine on ‘Smooth Ride’. Bronx pioneer & D.I.T.C legend A.G delivers a show stopping verse on ‘Trembling the Marrow’. There are hypnotic singing performances by Indira May on ‘First Date’ & ‘Open Book’ as well as Hiatus Kaiyote back up vocalist Jace XL on the soul stirring anthem “Figure Out What’s Right”. U.S rappers SickInTheHead & Cazeaux O.S.L.O round out the impressive guest list on the album with their inspired verses. Listeners caught their first glimpse of the duo with their debut single ‘Only Just Begun’. A whirlwind 3 verse tune showcasing the relentless wordplay and imagery Nelson is regarded for over a moody, hard hitting Slipz production. With a buzz already around what Nelson Dialect & Mr Slipz are brewing, the duo have just released their second single ‘Oxford Scholars’ featuring label mates Vitamin G & Verbz

Decomposed recalls classic American hardcore like Bad Brains, Poison Idea and Jerry’s Kids or Japanese ragers like Paintbox, The Comes, Eiefits and Skizophrenia. But there’s also a healthy slug of classic UK and US punk and even a bit of Krautrock, psychedelia and Black Sabbath in there too. Nottingham has always been a melting pot for heavy music. For a small city, it has boasted more than its fair share of genre defining bands and artists, not to mention record labels. Bands cross-pollinate, form projects and offshoots and play one-off gigs that would result in lengthy careers and world tours if they had happened across the Atlantic. It has always been like that there. No big deal (but yet, a really big deal if you know). One such band/project/offshoot were Endless Grinning Skulls. Formed by guitarist Andy Morgan (also from Bloody Head, Army Of Flying Robots, Nadir and countless more), drummer Steve Charlesworth (Heresy, Wolves Of Greece, Meatfly, Geriatric Unit) and bassist Gords (Hard To Swallow, John Holmes, Geriatric Unit) in the early twenty-teens, they re-set the bar for the 3-piece hardcore band before (perhaps inevitably) burning out in 2018. Morgan and Charlesworth weren’t done though. They’d forged a bond in EGS and wanted to carry on playing together so - in a familiar Nottingham storyline - they recruited former Pitchshifter guitarist Stu Toolin on bass and Anmarie Spaziano (who you might know from running a famous burger joint) on vocals and formed Blind Eye. They knew Toolin was about to relocate to Portland, Oregon so they wrote and recorded an EP (released on Morgan’s own Viral Age Records). Quick-sharp. No messing about. And that – by rights – should have been that: over and out. New band please. However, the demo captured a rare intensity and vitality that more considered projects often fail to achieve. This was a band let loose, free from previous shackles and loving the noise they made. It seemed a shame to stop there. Recruiting Matt Grundy (a former bandmate of Morgan’s in both Nadir and Dead In The Woods) to the bass vacancy they went back to Stuck On A Name Studios in 2021 with Ian “Boulty” Boult at the helm again and delivered the album Decomposed.
Decomposed genuinely rocks out without losing one iota of the effervescent anger that made the demo such an essential listen. From the insistent, minimal opener Ready To Go Now via the unhinged thrash of Straw Man and the menace of the stomping Pero No Quieres, to the measured chugging and epic crescendo of closer Broken Star, this record is a fucking blast. Needle off, flip it back over, play it again. Your neighbours are loving it so much they’re banging on the walls to tell you. “I suppose the intention was to write high energy, catchy hardcore, with a nod to what has come before, but also to do our own thing,” explains Andy. “Lyrically, the album was written during the pandemic, and although it’s not ‘a pandemic album’, I think it deals with a lot of the feelings of loss, separation and isolation

EAT is the brand new album from your favourite rapper trumpeter, Pan Amsterdam. Made with fans of both food and hip hop in mind, the LP opens up a new pocket in the Pan Am dimension: the rapper-producer album. The whole thing’s a collaboration with underground legend and Def Pressé family Damu The Fudgemunk.

EAT lands in the wake of the success of Pan Am’s second album, HA Chu. Food, of course, was a vital component in the culture of that work, with GUTS-produced single Carrot Cake receiving plaudits from the likes of BBC 6 Music, and interludes taking place over Chinese food. HA Chu was named his ‘hostile industry diss record’ by Bandcamp and ‘a jazz musician’s vision of what hip-hop can be’ by The Times.

Whereas HA Chu was conceptualised while Pan Am’s real life alter ego Leron Thomas was on tour as Iggy Pop’s bandleader (Iggy had loved Pan Am’s debut LP, The Pocket Watch, leading to him asking him to write and produce his 2019 album Free), and saw guests such as Sleaford Mods’ Jason Williamson and Doves’ Jimmy Goodwin in his El Diablo guise, EAT’s genesis was slightly different.

About to fly on tour in Europe last year, Pan Am was in need of a DJ. Up steps Damu The Fudgemunk, fresh from creating his KPM library-sampling opus Conversation Peace (on Def Pressé Editions). Tour life led to a mutual musical respect, Damu creating soundscapes in his head as he got to know Pan Am’s intricacies whilst performing together.

‘We had some good hangs and talks,’ recalls Pan Am. ‘In those hangs and talks, it seems Damu was taking musical notes because the music he would give me was fitting like a glove. It reminded me that artists be observant and it pays off in the end. Damn fun making this project.’

Perceiving the world in terms of taste, EAT is musically wistfully joyous and lyrically playful, a full menu with Pan Am your maître d' and Damu the chef du cuisine. Damu’s beats are deep, warm, melodic and progressive, a perfect playground for the duality of Pan Am’s beat poetry and Leron’s caressing trumpet, which as always is a persona in itself.

EAT is the brand new album from your favourite rapper trumpeter, Pan Amsterdam. Made with fans of both food and hip hop in mind, the LP opens up a new pocket in the Pan Am dimension: the rapper-producer album. The whole thing’s a collaboration with underground legend and Def Pressé family Damu The Fudgemunk.

EAT lands in the wake of the success of Pan Am’s second album, HA Chu. Food, of course, was a vital component in the culture of that work, with GUTS-produced single Carrot Cake receiving plaudits from the likes of BBC 6 Music, and interludes taking place over Chinese food. HA Chu was named his ‘hostile industry diss record’ by Bandcamp and ‘a jazz musician’s vision of what hip-hop can be’ by The Times.

Whereas HA Chu was conceptualised while Pan Am’s real life alter ego Leron Thomas was on tour as Iggy Pop’s bandleader (Iggy had loved Pan Am’s debut LP, The Pocket Watch, leading to him asking him to write and produce his 2019 album Free), and saw guests such as Sleaford Mods’ Jason Williamson and Doves’ Jimmy Goodwin in his El Diablo guise, EAT’s genesis was slightly different.

About to fly on tour in Europe last year, Pan Am was in need of a DJ. Up steps Damu The Fudgemunk, fresh from creating his KPM library-sampling opus Conversation Peace (on Def Pressé Editions). Tour life led to a mutual musical respect, Damu creating soundscapes in his head as he got to know Pan Am’s intricacies whilst performing together.

‘We had some good hangs and talks,’ recalls Pan Am. ‘In those hangs and talks, it seems Damu was taking musical notes because the music he would give me was fitting like a glove. It reminded me that artists be observant and it pays off in the end. Damn fun making this project.’

Perceiving the world in terms of taste, EAT is musically wistfully joyous and lyrically playful, a full menu with Pan Am your maître d' and Damu the chef du cuisine. Damu’s beats are deep, warm, melodic and progressive, a perfect playground for the duality of Pan Am’s beat poetry and Leron’s caressing trumpet, which as always is a persona in itself.

CYPRESS HILL - 30th ANNIVERSARY CASE BOOK
To commemorate the 30 year Anniversary of Cypress Hill’s debut album Get On Down is proud to present the complete album on 7 inch vinyl singles for the rst time ever housed in a deluxe casebook. LIMITED TO 2000 UNITS WORLDWIDE! The debut album is presented as a set of six 7-Inch vinyl records presented in a Hardcover Casebook which holds all six records in built-in sleeves Full-color 80 page booklet with liner notes by journalist Chris Faraone, complete with photos and lyrics, and more Housed in a premium outer slipcase, debossed with the iconic Cypress Hill logo in metallic red foil. When Cypress Hill came with their debut self-titled album 30 years ago, they made an immediate spark that captivated the Hip Hop audience, critics, and then the world. Led by B-Real with his nasal, singsong delivery, and Sen Dog to play the perfect hypeman, Cypress’ debut fueled tales of revenge, revolution, recreational drug use, gangbanging, and cultural pride. Like Public Enemy before them, the production was also a key factor in what made this debut so groundbreaking. DJ Muggs was able to craft a blueprint that would change Hip Hop production with his innovative stoned-out beats. Records like "How I Could Just Kill a Man", "Pigs", "Stoned is the Way of the Walk" and "Hand on the Pump" made this album an instant classic. Since its release, the album has won acclaim as one of Rolling Stone's Essential Recordings of the 90s and Top 100 Best Rap Albums by The Source Magazine. Journalist and author Chris Faraone highlights the group's relationship in the reissue's liner notes saying, "By the late 80s the undisputed Cypress unit finally formed. B and Sen realized that their diametric styles - the latter's deep wrangle, the formers inimitable high notes - complemented one another righteously. By then Muggs had bangers in the bag, as well as industry experience from a jaunt with the New York duo 7A3. B and Sen waited while Muggs messed with 7A3, and in that time began to build the blueprint for their raucous and weeded no-holds-barred style. Besides getting schooled on industry pitfalls, Muggs had also grown into hip-hop's most formidable young producer, while straddling the bi-coastal gap." Faraone was able to dive in deep with the band for the liner notes, hearing story after story, including the particularly interesting tale of their unlikely 91 radio hit, "How I Could Just Kill A Man". In the B Side wins again story, the group recalls receiving resistance from the label in regards to which single should hit radio first. Initially, the label thought "How I Could Just Kill A Man" was too risky, and even though the single initially "The Phuncky Feel One", one of the album's strongest cuts, as the A-Side, college and commercial mix-show radio couldn't resist the dusted, heavy groove of Kill A Man. The song – which included a catchy, LA drive-by-inspired chorus – ended up as an unlikely, but powerful double A-sided single that even topped the Billboard Rap charts. More singles would follow, including "Hand On The Pump"; "Pigs"; and "Latin Lingo". And by the fall of 1991, the album was a full-blown critics darling. If you are a Cypress Hill fan and 45 collector this limited edition 30 year Anniversary 7” boxset is a must have!

Stockholm post-punk band V**gra Boys (**= "ia" because spam FILTERS) are announcing a new album Cave World due out July 8th via YEAR0001 Produced by past collaborators Pelle Gunnerfeldt (The Hives, The Knife, etc.) and DJ Haydn, the album is inspired by current events, and aims to tear through the insanity and confusion the world currently finds itself in. Like sin- eaters if sins had to be ingested from a very small spoon, V**gra Boys have consumed the utterly incomprehensible chaos of our era and distilled it into the 12 immaculate tracks that make up Cave World.

As 2021’s Welfare Jazz was earning rave reviews from the likes of Pitchfork, NPR, GQ, NME, Stereogum, Fader, and more, Viagra Boys were in the midst of rerecording what would become their followup. After putting together an entire album at the legendary Silence Studio in the town of Koppom, the band decided they could push harder. "We let it marinate for a while and then rerecorded absolutely everything," Murphy explains. S

ome of the music made it through to what would become Cave World, but replacing the lyrics. In that iterative process,
Murphy found himself returning time and again to a misconception with deeper roots: the idea that humanity is moving forward. After watching a video late one evening about a theory that suggests evolution involved trading in some cognitive
abilities for others, Murphy began stewing on the fact that the result was mass shootings and science denial. "I just wrote down, 'Who is the true ape?'" he says.

"People look down at apes as primitive life forms, but we're just this horrible, lazy society killing each other and starting wars, while they’re able to love and feel.
Does that make them the true ape or us?"

Felicia Atkinson’s music always puts the listener somewhere in particular. There are two categories of place that are important to »Image Langage«: the house and the landscape. Inside and outside, different ways of orienting a body towards the world. They are in dialogue, insofar as in the places Atkinson made this record—Leman Lake, during a residency at La Becque in Switzerland, and at her home on the wild coast of Normandy—the landscape is what is waiting for you when you leave the house, and vice-versa. Each threatens—or is it offers, kindly, even promises? —to dissolve the other. Recognizing the normalization of home studios these days, she revisited twentieth-century women artists who variously chose, and were chosen by, their homes as a place to work: the desert retreats of Agnes Martin and Georgia O’Keefe, the life and death of Sylvia Plath. Building a record is like building a house: a structure in which one can encounter oneself, each room a song with its own function in the project of everyday life.

At times listening to »Image Langage« is immediate, something like visiting a house by the sea, sharing the same ground, being invited to witness Atkinson’s acts of seeing, hearing, and reading in a sonic double of the places they occurred. In an aching moment of clarity in »The Lake is Speaking,« a pair of voices emerge out of the primordial murk of piano and organ, accompanying the listener to the edge of a reflective pool that makes a mirror of the cosmos. "I open my feet to fresh dirt, and the wet grass. I hold your hand. You hold his hand. In the distance without any distance. The comets, the stars." At other times, listening to »Image Langage« is more like being in a theatre, the composition a tangle of flickering forms and media that illuminate as best they can the darkness from which we experience it. On »Pieces of Sylvia,« a noirish orchestra drones and clatters beneath and around a montage of vocal images, stretching the listener across time, space, subjectivities. Atkinson says that "Image Langage" is like the fake title of a fake Godard film. There is indeed something cinematic about Atkinson’s work—not cinematic in the sense that it sounds like the score for someone else’s film, but cinematic in the sense that it produces its own images and langage and narratives, a kind of deliberate, dimensional world-building in sound.

»Image Langage« is built from instruments recorded as if field recordings, sound-images of instruments conjured from a keyboard, instruments Atkinson treats like characters, what she calls “a fantasy of an orchestra that doesn’t exist.” And then, speaking of Godard, there are the monologues, operating as both experimental-cinematic device and a literary style of narration. Voice can be a writerly anchor or a wisp of a textural presence. Atkinson’s capacious and slippery speech plunges into and out of the compositional depths, shifting shapes, channelling the voices of any number of beings, subjectivities, or elements of her surroundings—not unlike her midi keyboard, able to speak as a vast array of instruments.

»Image Langage« is an environmental record, in the vastest sense of the world. It is about getting lost in places imagined and real; it registers, too, the dizzying feeling of moving between such sites. It puts forth a concept of self that is hopelessly entangled with the rest of the world, born of both the ache of distance and the warmth of proximity.

For Félicia Atkinson, human voices inhabit an ecology alongside and within many other things that don’t speak, in the conventional sense: landscapes, images, books, memories, ideas. The French electro-acoustic composer and visual artist makes music that animates these other possible voices in conversation with her own, collaging field recording, MIDI instrumentation, and snippets of essayistic langage in both French and English. Her own voice, always shifting to make space, might whisper from the corner or assume another character’s tone. Atkinson uses composing as a way to process imaginative and creative life, frequently engaging with the work of visual artists, filmmakers, and novelists. Her layered compositions tell stories that alternately stretch and fold time and place, stories in which she is the narrator but not the protagonist.

After two UK #1 albums, 2 million album sales and an array of international acclaim, you might’ve thought you knew what to expect from Royal Blood. Those preconceptions were shattered when they released ‘Trouble’s Coming’ last summer. Hitting a melting pot of fiery rock riffs and danceable beats, they delivered something fresh, unexpected and yet entirely in tune with what they’d forged their reputation with.
The reaction was phenomenal, with highlights including 20 million streams, a premiere as Annie Mac’s Hottest Record and a run on Radio 1’s A-list and earned alternative radio support and media attention across the globe. In short, Royal Blood are primed to be bigger than ever before. That feat is set to be realised when they release their eagerly anticipated third album ‘Typhoons’ on April 30th via Warner Records.
When Mike Kerr and Ben Thatcher sat down to talk about making a new album, they knew what they wanted to achieve. It involved a conscious return to their roots, back when they had made music that was influenced by Daft Punk, Justice, and Philippe Zdar of Cassius. It also called for a similar back-to-basics approach to what had made their self-titled debut album so thrilling, visceral and original.
“We sort of stumbled on this sound, and it was immediately fun to play,” recalls Kerr. “That’s what sparked the creativity on the new album, the chasing of that feeling. It’s weird, though - if you think back to ‘Figure it Out’, it kind of contains the embryo of this album. We realised that we didn’t have to completely destroy what we’d created so far; we just had to shift it, change it. On paper, it’s a small reinvention. But when you hear it, it sounds so fresh.”

Those traits pulsate throughout the new single and title track. Kerr’s spiralling bass riff casts an hypnotic allure as it grows in intensity, while his vocals switch at will between a raw rock roar and a soulful falsetto. It’s underpinned by Thatcher’s thundering beats, his taut rhythms infused with groove-laden hi-hats.



After setting the tone with ‘Trouble’s Coming’, the album opens in breathless, take-no-prisoners style with the fierce metallic grooves of ‘Who Needs Friends’ hitting an early visceral peak. Royal Blood further reference their fresh array of influences by deploying vocodered vocals on ‘Million & One’ before dynamically switching between the biggest contrasts of their sound with ‘Limbo’. Already a fan favourite having been a regular during the duo’s 2019 shows, ‘Boilermaker’ lives up to its reputation and is more than matched by ‘Mad Visions’, which evokes a hyper-aggressive Prince. It ends with a final surprise in the shape of the stark piano ballad ‘All We Have Is Now’, a vulnerable and revealing reminder to live in the moment.

That song’s unguarded sentiments gives the album a redemptive finale. Whether directly or allusively, the album focuses on exploring the flipside of success that they’ve experienced. It comes from the realisation that success is much more complicated than it seems and that having the time to regain perspective is a precious commodity which becomes ever more elusive. The situation called for reflection and change, which Kerr addressed in Las Vegas. He downed an espresso martini and declared it to be his last drink, and soon discovered that his new-found sobriety would have a positive impact upon his creativity and life as a whole.

That new approach manifested itself in the duo’s decision to produce the majority of ‘Typhoons’ themselves. ‘Boilermaker’ was produced by Queens of the Stone Age frontman Josh Homme, the two bands having first connected when Royal Blood supported them on a huge North American tour. Meanwhile, the multiple Grammy Award winner Paul Epworth produced ‘Who Needs Friends’ and contributed additional production to ‘Trouble’s Coming’.

When words trail off at the beginning of claire rousay’s »everything perfect is already here«, ornate instrumentation is waiting to fill a void left by the breakdown of language. Yet it becomes clear as we trace rousay’s collaged sonic pathway that breakdown, of meaning and also of melody, is also a place to rest. everything perfect… is made up of two extended compositions that cycle between familiarity and unknowing. There are seemingly infinite ways to feel in response to these pieces of music, which shift tone across their languid duration, earnest like a familiar song but unbound from the emotional didacticisms of lyrical voice and pop form.

rousay builds a fluid landscape around the acoustic contributions of Alex Cunningham (violin), Mari Maurice (electronics and violin), Marilu Donovan (harp), and Theodore Cale Schafer (piano), whose respective melodies weave gently in and out, sometimes steady, sometimes aching, sometimes receding altogether in deference to less overtly musical sounds. That is, percussive texture in the form of unvarnished samples and field recordings: the rattle and rustle and the stops and starts of life unfurling, voices sharing memories nearly out of reach, doors closing, wind against a microphone. Everything comes from somewhere in particular, possessing the veneer of the diaristic, but sound’s provenance is secondary here and so these details become tangled and fused. On this release I hear such details not as individual ornaments or stories but the collective architecture of the greater composition. It’s an architecture that is not quite formed and thus full of openings out to the world unfolding.

“The world unfolding,” that’s a kind way of saying change, movement, loss, transformation. Things rousay here indexes, not without shards of desire or pain, still somehow what I hear is coarse peace in the in-between. These two pieces sweep you away and then bring you to earth, but which is which, anyway? Where am I now? What is different outside of me? What is different inside of me? Um. I think. everything is perfect is already here, like the answers to these questions, is loose and beautiful in surprising ways.

The music guides a certain experience of the world around. In claire’s music there is this marriage—not just a pairing or juxtaposition but an interrelationship, an eventual confusion—of song/texture, narrative/abstraction, figure/ground. Everything comes from somewhere in particular but not just the voices, the field recordings, the what is being said or meant, what matters is the where you are now. There are so many ways of anchoring oneself in the present, some have to do with fantasy or storytelling and some with accepting what is.

These two compositions find peace between these modes. They sweep you away and then bring you to earth, but which is which, anyway? Their mode of feeling is inquisitive. Where am I now? What has changed outside of me? What has changed inside of me? The music, like the answers to these questions, is loose and beautiful in surprising ways.

Repress incoming...

Far Out Recordings proudly presents Milton Nascimento's Maria Maria. Recorded in 1974 and unreleased until almost thirty years later, the album was written as the soundtrack to a ballet which dealt with the legacy of slavery in Brazil. Raw, atmospheric and emotionally charged, Maria Maria reveals one of Brazil's greatest ever songwriters at his creative peak. Featuring an all-star cast of fellow Brazilian legends including Nana Vasconcelos, Joao Donato, Paulinho Jobim, and members of Som Imaginario, Maria Maria holds what Milton considers to be the definitive versions of some of his classic songs, including 'Os Escravos De Jó' and 'Maria Maria'.

Originally released in 2003 as a double CD package, with Milton Nascimento's 1984 follow up ballet soundtrack Ultimo Trem, Maria Maria will be available on vinyl for the very first time from December 2019, with Ultimo Trem set for vinyl release early 2020.

Milton Nascimento possesses one of the most immediately recognizable voices in Brazilian music: high and sweet and as breathtakingly sublime as that of any soul singer. It was this voice that the legendary Brazilian singer Elis Regina fell in love with back in 1964, having heard Milton perform his song 'Canção do Sal (Sultry Song)' at a private party in Sao Paulo. Ellis went on to record the song in 1967 -giving Milton his first hit in Brazil and beginning a career that has spanned over 50 years.

Born in Rio on the 26th October 1942, Milton moved with his adoptive parents at the age of 18 months to Tres Pontas, a rural town in the state of Minas Gerais, 500 miles north of Rio. He began his musical career as a young teenager, singing in a crooner style he learnt from listening to Brazilian singers and US groups such as The Platters on the radio. Hungry for more opportunities to perform, Milton moved to Belo Horizonte, the capital of Minas Gerais, at the age of twenty. By the beginning of the 60s Milton had made a name for himself both as an accomplished singer and guitarist.

Milton became part of a local network of musicians, film makers, dancers, theatre directors and writers that included the journalist and song writer Fernando Brant as well as lyricist Marcio Borges and his younger brother Lo Borges. Together these four wrote and produced what would become Milton's milestone album, 'Clube da Esquina (Club on the Corner)'. The originality of 'Club da Esquina' shaped the local scene, and it reflects the essence of 'the Nascimento Sound'. Milton's religious upbringing as an Afro-Brazilian Catholic saw him exposed to church choral music from an early age. His love of this genre of music is apparent in both his celestial falsetto and vocal choral arrangements. This collection also displays his early fascination with evocative, non-verbal, scat-style singing, spare, harmonic guitar work and local folk music, jazz and rock.

In 1976, Milton and Fernando Brant teamed up with a new contemporary dance company called Grupo Corpo, whose Argentinian choreographer Oscar Araiz, would become a collaborator with the two musicians. Together, they conceived a show based on the composite life story of the daughter of a black slave called Maria. Nascimento wrote music to Brant's lyrics and "Maria Maria" was premiered in the main theatre of the Belo Horizonte Palacio das Artes that year. "Fernando wrote the lyrics for the ballet, but there were originally no lyrics for the theme song, "Maria Maria'". Milton and Fernando worked on the lyrics together, basing them on folk stories about black women of the countryside. Adds Milton "These memories are mostly things that we witnessed – Fernando and I – rather than what we experienced ourselves.

Milton's music is impressionistic, emotional and romantic. Relying on songs without lyrics as well as evocative vocalizing and choruses, Milton experimented heavily with Afro-Brazilian percussion and taped jungle sounds. His composing method for these recordings was highly unconventional: "I wrote the music for 'Maria Maria' in a tiny Rio apartment with friends and their kids running around and having fun! I love to be in noisy places, surrounded by people", he says.
The music on 'Maria Maria' was performed by an impressive group of young musicians who are today household names in Brazilian music, including Naná Vasconcelos (percussion and effects), Toninho Horta (guitars) and Paulo Moura (sax). Several vocalist including Naná Caymmi, Fafá de Belém, Beto Guedes, and Milton himself, had hits in years to come with reworkings of these songs.

Milton says his compositions follow his visions "like a movie", and he believes that reflects his long love affair with cinema. "I only began composing because of enjoying the movies so much," he says. "I wrote my first song "Peace for the Coming Love" after seeing 'Jules et Jim' (the cult 60s French film directed by François Truffaut), with my friend Marcio Borges. We went early in the morning and watched it four or five times in a row, then went to Márcio's home and wrote the song."

The songs also include solo spoken passages set to music, clearly influenced by this style of French art cinema. On the title track, Maria's story is narrated and translated to music through the use of African Percussion, drums and metal signifying the field slave tools of the day. 'Trabalhos (Works)' runs to work rhythms and whipcracks: no words, just pain. 'Lília' documents the beating of the slave woman. After 'A Chamada (The call)' and the triumphant 'Era Rei e Sou Escravo (I was a king now I am a slave' things begin to turn and Milton employs tropical jungle cries to symbolize freedom. 'Santos Catholicos x Candomble (Catholic Saints vs Candomble)' represents the battle between African and European religions through the music of both sides. Milton's heavenly falsetto pours into 'Francisco' and 'Pai Grande (Great Father)' and the outstanding 'Eu Sou Uma Preta Velha Aqui Sentada no Sol (I'm an old black lady, sitting under the sun)' conjures images of an old woman sitting deep in the forest, her memories painted in drums, piano and voices.

The wiggy wanderings of Oog Bogo wind up on the same island of lost joys all at once, manufacturing a virtual jukebox of singles and side flips that won’t unplug, and just keeps reeling and raging on instead. A bright metallurgy of guitar pop, psych, post-punk and apocalypse disco embosses the sleek, multicoloured flash of ‘Plastic’.

 Oog Bogo are a four-piece rock band from Los Angeles and their new album is ‘Plastic’, an electrifying set of songs and sounds that just don’t stop, working like a machine that makes joy and endless flips and repetitions, whether in front of the turntable or out in the real world.
 In the past several years, Oog Bogo dropped two records that previewed this explosion in wildly divergent ways: 2019’s ‘Oogbogo’ EP, with wigged-out production, its contorted fun house mirror images pulling punk, psych and new wave in and out of focus in a chaotic procession of mutant tunes. 2021’s ‘EP2’ radiates a starkly different vibe, as chilled-out guitar-pop tunes conjure a flowing medley of plaintive echoes and atmospheres in a mellow mist of hiss.

 Kevin Boog recorded these records in a largely hermetic state: at home on 4-track, playing all the parts, slowly drawing out the sounds. The songs for ‘Plastic’ were demoed this way too, as a starting point for a group interpretation - but when, for obvious reasons, logistics prevented everyone from getting in the same room to even rehearse, the planned recording session at Ty Segall’s Harmonizer Studios took on a different shape.

 Starting off with only drummer Thomas Alvarez (Audacity) to accompany him, Kevin
realized that any obstacles to getting the record made were also opportunities, for
something else that was also right to happen. Rather than reach for the design of the
demos, he kept himself in the present moment, approaching every passage as fluidly
as possible, playing what he needed to play, staying open to what he needed to
know. It didn’t hurt that the laptop with all his songs crashed right after he walked into
the studio! There was no way possible but forward.
 The direction was right on with the guys at Harmonizer - Ty Segall’s sense of
imagination made him the ideal production counterpart to walk together with Kevin
into this world, psyched to experiment and ready to get weird at any time. Ty and
engineer Matt Littlejohn met all requests and requirements in the form of sounds, with
gear and approaches that amazed and delighted, and an eternally ebullient spirit.
 As this was Oog Bogo’s first time recording away from home, Kevin was a kid in a
candy store - where the store owner turns out to be a Wonka-esque philanthropist.
As band members Mike Kreibel (Dirty & His Fists) and Shelby Jacobson (Shannon
Lay) joined the session, there was a synchronicity and community with everyone
involved, finding an unexpected road to realizing the songs, with all the colours and
hues they added making everything pop that much harder.
 Fluidity was key: ‘Plastic’’s tunes depict a polymorphic cast of characters. As in life,
they leap avidly from style to style; from pretty psych rock to new wave apocalypse
disco and harsh post punk bleakness, sometimes in a verse and a half. Corkscrewing
over and over like a riff-driven space-coaster, morphing in and out of each
successive moment with increasing momentum and gravity, ‘Plastic’ defines and
redefines Oog Bogo, with sweet tunes, barely-controlled intensity and sharp
production moves - a killer first album and an equally killer evolving state of mind.

The wiggy wanderings of Oog Bogo wind up on the same island of lost joys all at once, manufacturing a virtual jukebox of singles and side flips that won’t unplug, and just keeps reeling and raging on instead. A bright metallurgy of guitar pop, psych, post-punk and apocalypse disco embosses the sleek, multicoloured flash of ‘Plastic’.

 Oog Bogo are a four-piece rock band from Los Angeles and their new album is ‘Plastic’, an electrifying set of songs and sounds that just don’t stop, working like a machine that makes joy and endless flips and repetitions, whether in front of the turntable or out in the real world.
 In the past several years, Oog Bogo dropped two records that previewed this explosion in wildly divergent ways: 2019’s ‘Oogbogo’ EP, with wigged-out production, its contorted fun house mirror images pulling punk, psych and new wave in and out of focus in a chaotic procession of mutant tunes. 2021’s ‘EP2’ radiates a starkly different vibe, as chilled-out guitar-pop tunes conjure a flowing medley of plaintive echoes and atmospheres in a mellow mist of hiss.

 Kevin Boog recorded these records in a largely hermetic state: at home on 4-track, playing all the parts, slowly drawing out the sounds. The songs for ‘Plastic’ were demoed this way too, as a starting point for a group interpretation - but when, for obvious reasons, logistics prevented everyone from getting in the same room to even rehearse, the planned recording session at Ty Segall’s Harmonizer Studios took on a different shape.

 Starting off with only drummer Thomas Alvarez (Audacity) to accompany him, Kevin
realized that any obstacles to getting the record made were also opportunities, for
something else that was also right to happen. Rather than reach for the design of the
demos, he kept himself in the present moment, approaching every passage as fluidly
as possible, playing what he needed to play, staying open to what he needed to
know. It didn’t hurt that the laptop with all his songs crashed right after he walked into
the studio! There was no way possible but forward.
 The direction was right on with the guys at Harmonizer - Ty Segall’s sense of
imagination made him the ideal production counterpart to walk together with Kevin
into this world, psyched to experiment and ready to get weird at any time. Ty and
engineer Matt Littlejohn met all requests and requirements in the form of sounds, with
gear and approaches that amazed and delighted, and an eternally ebullient spirit.
 As this was Oog Bogo’s first time recording away from home, Kevin was a kid in a
candy store - where the store owner turns out to be a Wonka-esque philanthropist.
As band members Mike Kreibel (Dirty & His Fists) and Shelby Jacobson (Shannon
Lay) joined the session, there was a synchronicity and community with everyone
involved, finding an unexpected road to realizing the songs, with all the colours and
hues they added making everything pop that much harder.
 Fluidity was key: ‘Plastic’’s tunes depict a polymorphic cast of characters. As in life,
they leap avidly from style to style; from pretty psych rock to new wave apocalypse
disco and harsh post punk bleakness, sometimes in a verse and a half. Corkscrewing
over and over like a riff-driven space-coaster, morphing in and out of each
successive moment with increasing momentum and gravity, ‘Plastic’ defines and
redefines Oog Bogo, with sweet tunes, barely-controlled intensity and sharp
production moves - a killer first album and an equally killer evolving state of mind.

A revelatory collection of recordings from Japanese free-sound quintet Gu-N. Formed in 1994 by Fumio Kosakai (Incapacitants, Hijokaidan, C.C.C.C.) and Hidenobu Kaneda (Yuragi), alongside Ikuro Takahashi (Fushitsusha, Kousokuya, LSD March), Ryuichi Nagakubo (C.C.C.C., Yuragi), and Morihide Sawada (Yura Yura Teikoku, Marble Sheep), Gu-N played regularly at Plan-B in Tokyo, but released little during their relatively short time together. Hazy and hypnotic, their laminar improvisations, four of which appear on this untitled album, are compelling, oneiric visions for the ear.

In his liner notes for the album, Michel Henritzi writes that these Gu-N recordings situate the group within a broader trajectory of free improvisation and collective sound within Japan – Taj Mahal Travellers, East Bionic Symphonia, Marginal Consort, each of whom sprung, in many ways, from the radical vision and creativity of Takehisa Kosugi. But there’s a unique spirit here that aligns Gu-N with these predecessors, while also marking out singular territory.

Kosakai’s background in noise, via his participation in Hijokaidan and Incapacitants, can be heard in the unrelenting oscillations and heavyweight drones that purr throughout each of these four tracks. Both Kosakai and Nagakubo were members of C.C.C.C., perhaps the clearest precursors to Gu-N in their psychedelic density, though Gu-N trade in C.C.C.C.’s volcanic energy for a more tempered, sensuous exploration of tone and time.

There’s also a brutish element to Gu-N’s improvisations – see the saturated spectrum, rumbling and phasing throughout the album, and the crushing, almost Amon Düül-esque drum tattoos that Takahashi pounds out on the second track (recorded in 1998), punctuating the music from deep inside its hallucinatory murk. Elsewhere, as on the third track (one of three recorded in 1994), Kosakai’s cello scrapes out armfuls of buzz-tone as Sawada’s bouzouki trills out, elastic and vibrant, across spindrift electronics and lung-spun winds.

What’s most impressive here, though, is the way each player, formidable musicians in their own right, defers to the might of the communal and the collective. The quintet broke up in 1998, leaving behind scant recorded evidence – just one, self-titled CD, on Pataphysique, released in 1995. This LP is a most welcome addition to the small but blissful body of recorded work made public by this mysterious quintet of spirit channelers.

‘Bye Bye’ is a three-track offering from Philadelphia-based
sextet Blood, that rarely stays put in one style for long.

 All three songs were recorded by the band throughout the
pandemic, providing a uniting force whilst touring remained
impossible.

 The tracks are a testament to the unforgiving and rewarding
process of self-recording. The band found great relief in
finally having the time to flesh out an experimental
atmosphere without the constraint of paid studio time.
 Blood are proud of the work they’ve made, but it is
imperative to mention that all three tracks were brought to life
in a way not formerly thought possible, by the mixing
brilliance of Nancy Conforti.

 ‘Money Worries’ finds Blood slingshotted over an open letter
to their landlord. What starts as a clear threat to an obvious
albeit deserving villain, soon caves into an acoustic respite,
in which the nightmare of financial ruin becomes lullaby.

 Blood began as a solo project of current lead singer Tim
O’Brien in the winter of 2017. After going through several
line-up changes throughout 2018, the current iteration began
making waves in the bijou punk scene of Austin. They were
considered “a live staple in their own prospective scene” and
“one of Austin’s buzziest new acts” by press nationally and
locally.

 After twice touring the US, Blood were poised for a big 2020
when plans were altered drastically by the pandemic. They
then self-released their debut EP, ‘Why Wait Til’ 55, We Might
Not Even Be Alive’, in April of that year.

 In 2021, the sextet made a move to West Philadelphia and
began recording their upcoming release, ‘Bye Bye’, while
also playing shows throughout the North Eastern United
States. At this time, the group live in a seven-bedroom house
with a converted basement for recording and rehearsing.

Leeds art-rock group Mush (Dan Hyndman vocals / guitar, Phil Porter drums,
Nick Grant bass, Myles Kirk guitar) are set to return with album ‘Down Tools’
via Memphis Industries. The new record marks the prolific band’s third album
in as many years, following hype-building early singles ‘Alternative Facts’
and ‘Gig Economy’, 2020’s debut album ‘3D Routine’ and 2021’s acclaimed
‘Lines Redacted’, which pushed their sound further and, as Uncut wrote, saw
them become “kindred spirits to Wand and King Gizzard & The Lizard
Wizard, two other bands prolifically honing their sound and approach,
steadily developing their voice.”
 On ‘Down Tools’, this voice grows again into a more brilliantly singular
sound. It sees Mush getting loose, moving away from the defined moods and
textures of ‘Lines Redacted’ with a musical openness, straddling genres
while avoiding pastiche. Hyndman says of the lyrics on ‘Down Tools’ that
“there was a conscious decision to retreat further from an observational
approach” with vocals being ad-libbed lending the record a more abstract
feel. Hyndman continues: “this album is less dark than the previous one. The
Armageddon obsession has eased, or at least the symptoms have become
milder due to saturation. Musically there’s a lot more chill on the record -
there’s a few more mellow tracks out there and the most astute listener may
even be able to decipher some of the words, fingers crossed.”
 While grief and work balance form themes on the record, Hyndman’s
approach is largely made up of abstract, disconnected streams of
consciousness and lines liberally taken from books, paintings, films and
beyond. On ‘Human Resources’, Hyndman dramatically retells a battle he
had with an HR department at a job in a David and Goliath style. The song
‘Group Of Death’, a phrase chillingly familiar to any football fan, is
emblematic of the turn towards softer, more considered sounds. Hyndman
says: “In my warped imagination it just sounds like a Paul McCartney song,
but it won’t to others. I initially had the idea of doing a World Cup song called
‘Group of Death’, but by the time it was written nothing beyond the title had
any relevance to football. Anyway, the next World Cup is in Qatar so fuck
that shit.”
 ‘Northern Safari’, meanwhile, is a song about the way the North of England
has been portrayed in the media and used as a mirror to reflect some of the
nastier elements of what’s going on in society, in particular vox pops around
Doncaster, portraying a particular narrative of the collapse of the red wall and
the disgruntled ex-miners.
 ‘Down Tools’ sees Mush idiosyncratically ping-pong from finger picked
looseners to noise-rock bangers to brilliantly entertaining effect, avoiding
post punk saturation with an easy style and wit.

"The past 5 years we have taken our music all over the world: Europe, Asia, Africa besides our homeland Denmark, and even though we cannot speak with many of the people we meet, our music is a universal language that transcends borders. The meetings we have had (and continue to have) all over inspire us to create new music. But of course we are the composers of the music, so this is our representation of those meetings.

Our 3rd album is called AFROTROPISM. Tropism is a biological phenomenon that indicates growth of a plant in response to the environment; so when you see a plant turning for the sunlight, this is tropism. In other words, this is not so much about the plant's roots but more about how it reacts when it touches the air, feels sunlight or rain - in other words the outside world. So AFROTROPISM refers to the fact that we are drawn towards the African traditions, but we are "growing" our own music.

On our first two albums we have recorded extensively with African musicians, and AFROTROPISM is centered around The KutiMangoes (TKM) as a band. We are developing our artistic direction by going more in depth with how we can mix our inspirations with our own musical heritage. Our musical mission is (and has always been) to mix cultures and create our own sound.

With our background in jazz music, TKM counts virtuoso instrumentalists with a heartfelt intent and sound innovators with our horns, effect pedals, synthesizers, drums and percussion from all over the world. AFROTROPISM is a further and deeper development of our trademark bold sound that experiments with synthesizers, soundscapes and a bit of electronic effects without losing it's focus on groove, melody, atmosphere and musicianship."

The KutiMangoes, July 2019


About each track:

STRETCH TOWARDS THE SUN
This track opens up with a synthesizer groove that is inspired by the polyrhythmic grooves played by the balafon (a predecessor of the piano) from West Africa. Our rolling sequence could not be played on the balafon because of the key changes, but the basic idea comes from that instrument. Quick and light, we wanted to write a song where you can feel the sun coming out and feel the energy it's rays give. The combination of the programmed groove, the horn-arrangement, the huge percussion section and the live instruments makes for a sound that we have not heard before, and it illustrates what this album is all about (and what the track's title refers to): that we stretch towards the things that give us energy – and that although our roots are in Denmark, when we encounter a musical tradition as rich as in West Africa, it changes us and our music.

A SNAKE IS JUST A STRING
The first time we saw Mali-bluesman extraordinaire Vieux Farka Touré on stage was just after we had played at a huge festival in Burkina Faso, and we almost literally caught on fire. Their groove was so strong and insistent that we were mesmerized, and it inspired us to come up with the opening guitar part of this song. Basically a bluesy tune with some unusual chord changes and a crazy synthesizer solo by Johannes Buhl Andresen reminiscent of that fuzzy guitar-sound we love so much in the Mali blues. The title is an homage to the Nigerian writer Chinua Acheba, who in his masterpiece novel "Things Fall Apart" tells that in the village during the night, to ward off the fear of darkness, people would call dangerous animals by a different name: don't be afraid, a snake is just a string.

KEEP YOU SAFE
It is a basic human necessity to have a place where you can feel safe. But there are far too many people in our world that fear for their safety, their livelihood, their children, their relatives – and this is surely not a feeling that helps us to flourish as humans. With this song we are saying that we all need to make it a priority to help our fellow humans to feel safe. And of course, if our song can offer a feeling of safety and comfort for a short time to those who listen, we are truly thankful.

MONEY IS THE CURSE
This track is directly inspired by Fela Kuti's ability to create music that is both physical and political. Dance music with a serious message about our times. For the solo part we wanted a more melancholy, pensive feel (than the full-on baritone-trombone melody) and also wanted to experiment with some choppy, stuttering effects to make the horns sound desperate. Money is the curse because it can become the objective of our life; money is the curse because it changes the relationships we have with our fellow humans. Money is the curse.

THORNS TO FRUIT
This melody is inspired by the scales and developments of a traditional Bambara folk-song. We love the way these melodies constantly evolve with small developments and changes. We felt like an accompaniment that is really dry, sparse and earthy would fit well and then made a contrasting solo part. As a group we are interested in how to develop our improvisations together and create sonic landscapes that evoke a distinctive atmosphere – so here, we have no soloist, but a collection of synthesizer parts, saxophone lines and guitar-sounds that together create a dreamy and lush ambience.

SAND TO SOIL
We started out with a short ngoni riff played by our good friend and master musician Aboubacar Konaté. We then sampled it, built soundscapes and our own both meditative and pumping groove around it. We created a melody with both melancholy and joy, with afterthought and impulse and then the brilliant Aske Drasbæk added an emotive and blistering saxophone solo. The title refers to the contrasts in our humanism. As part of our human nature, we have a dark side that drives us (and each other) towards destruction – making the fertile soil into barren sand. The title is an encouragement to emphasize the opposite movement in our nature: to create life and help it flourish. We keep ourselves human by insisting that we must never forget this side of our nature no matter how tough, tiresome or trying it might be. Let's keep our focus on the light, the warmth, the positive energy – that can turn the cold stone into fertile ground.

In 1990 Ronald Lee Trent Jr. was the teenage creator of Altered States – a raw, futuristic techno-not-techno anthem, which in retrospect was something of a stylistic anomaly for the young artist. Across subsequent years, with time spent in Chicago, New York and Detroit, came the development of his signature sound, and renown as a world class purveyor of deep, soul infused house/garage. This story has already been told, and on casual inspection, the well-worn platitude ‘house music legend’ is an old shoe that still fits. However, in fact, he’s actually so much more, and has been for quite a while. A genuine musician, songwriter, and ‘producer’ in the proper, old-school sense, the artist today has more in common with Quincy Jones than he does your average journeyman DJ track-hack.

To those in the know, these broader skills haven’t gone unnoticed, which is why on the highly collaborative, career-topping new LP ‘What Do The Stars Say To You’, it took little persuasion to recruit serious star power. Brazilian royalty Ivan Conti and Alex Malheriros from Azymuth, violin maestro Jean Luc Ponty, ambient hero Gigi Masin, hype band Khruangbin and more performed, whilst NY cornerstone François K provided mastering duties. At various points Ron himself played drums, percussion, keys, synths, piano, guitar and electronics.

Harking back to the 70s and 80s boom in adventurous, luxurious albums, WDTSSTY is a love letter to the longplayer, where rich musicality and a liquid smooth, silky flow make seemingly odd genre bedfellows acquiesce harmoniously. Each song its own high-fidelity odyssey, Trent incorporated a broad range of live instruments and electronics into a sophisticated, euphonic whole. Described by him as being “designed for harmonising with spirit, urban life and nature”, this is aural soul food, gently easing you into balmy nights, where everything is alright.

Originally wanting to be an architect, Trent’s views his approach to collaboration and music in general as having the same principles. A firm believer in the nourishing qualities of sound, he sees direct parallels between the two disciplines, being as the purpose of good architecture is to improve quality of life. “With WARM, through sound design, I built frameworks for the musicians, who furnished and occupied these structures beautifully, which was a big compliment for me”, he comments.

The conditions required for a good collab are more than simply structural though, as Trent expounds, “I’m a huge fan of everyone on the record, especially Jean Luc and Azymuth, who’re part of my DNA. Each track was made with that guest in mind – for example, when I started writing ‘Sphere’, I immediately thought ‘this IS Ponty’. I played the keys in his style, and did a guide violin solo using a synth, which he then re-did, amazingly. ‘Cool Water’ is based around Azymuth themes, so when I sent it to Ivan, he could immediately see himself in the piece; He got what I was going for straight away. For ‘Melt Into You’ I hit up Alex on Instagram, sent him the track, he liked it, and within 24 hours he’d sent back six different bass passes!”
“Conversely, Admira began with a sketch sent by Gigi and became something combining Jon Hassell-esque chords and the feel of ‘Aquamarine’ by Carlos Santana, which links back to Masin’s recurrent nautical theme”, he adds.

With community, history and the need for racial equality never far from Ron’s mind, ‘Flos Potentia’ translates from Spanish as flower power, but rather than promoting some hippy idyll, instead it refers to plants which drove the slave trade: tobacco, sugar and cotton. Joined by Khruangbin, together they propel Dinosaur L, Hi-Tension and afrobeat into an ethereal, clear-skyed stratosphere.
Aside from these esteemed guests, other key influences cited by Trent include ‘Gigolos Get Lonely Too’ by Prince, ‘Beyond’ by Herb Alpert, David Mancuso, Jan Hammer, Tangerine Dream, The Cars, Trevor Horn, Alan Parsons Project and pre-Kraftwerk incarnation Organization. A multitude of others are audible too, including George Bension, Vangelis, Loose Ends, Maze, Flora Purim, Weather Report, Atmosphere, Grace Jones, James Mason and Brass Construction.

On the subject of influences, although opposed to the fences erected by genre tags, to understand where Ron is coming from, and where he’s at, it’s important to acknowledge just how big the palette is from which he paints. Traversing jazz funk, quiet storm, sophisti-pop, new age, new wave, kosmische, Balearic, samba, afrobeat, Latin rock, soft rock and yacht rock, his deeply entrenched digger’s knowledge pays off in dividends.

In 1990 Ronald Lee Trent Jr. was the teenage creator of Altered States – a raw, futuristic techno-not-techno anthem, which in retrospect was something of a stylistic anomaly for the young artist. Across subsequent years, with time spent in Chicago, New York and Detroit, came the development of his signature sound, and renown as a world class purveyor of deep, soul infused house/garage. This story has already been told, and on casual inspection, the well-worn platitude ‘house music legend’ is an old shoe that still fits. However, in fact, he’s actually so much more, and has been for quite a while. A genuine musician, songwriter, and ‘producer’ in the proper, old-school sense, the artist today has more in common with Quincy Jones than he does your average journeyman DJ track-hack.

To those in the know, these broader skills haven’t gone unnoticed, which is why on the highly collaborative, career-topping new LP ‘What Do The Stars Say To You’, it took little persuasion to recruit serious star power. Brazilian royalty Ivan Conti and Alex Malheriros from Azymuth, violin maestro Jean Luc Ponty, ambient hero Gigi Masin, hype band Khruangbin and more performed, whilst NY cornerstone François K provided mastering duties. At various points Ron himself played drums, percussion, keys, synths, piano, guitar and electronics.

Harking back to the 70s and 80s boom in adventurous, luxurious albums, WDTSSTY is a love letter to the longplayer, where rich musicality and a liquid smooth, silky flow make seemingly odd genre bedfellows acquiesce harmoniously. Each song its own high-fidelity odyssey, Trent incorporated a broad range of live instruments and electronics into a sophisticated, euphonic whole. Described by him as being “designed for harmonising with spirit, urban life and nature”, this is aural soul food, gently easing you into balmy nights, where everything is alright.

Originally wanting to be an architect, Trent’s views his approach to collaboration and music in general as having the same principles. A firm believer in the nourishing qualities of sound, he sees direct parallels between the two disciplines, being as the purpose of good architecture is to improve quality of life. “With WARM, through sound design, I built frameworks for the musicians, who furnished and occupied these structures beautifully, which was a big compliment for me”, he comments.

The conditions required for a good collab are more than simply structural though, as Trent expounds, “I’m a huge fan of everyone on the record, especially Jean Luc and Azymuth, who’re part of my DNA. Each track was made with that guest in mind – for example, when I started writing ‘Sphere’, I immediately thought ‘this IS Ponty’. I played the keys in his style, and did a guide violin solo using a synth, which he then re-did, amazingly. ‘Cool Water’ is based around Azymuth themes, so when I sent it to Ivan, he could immediately see himself in the piece; He got what I was going for straight away. For ‘Melt Into You’ I hit up Alex on Instagram, sent him the track, he liked it, and within 24 hours he’d sent back six different bass passes!”
“Conversely, Admira began with a sketch sent by Gigi and became something combining Jon Hassell-esque chords and the feel of ‘Aquamarine’ by Carlos Santana, which links back to Masin’s recurrent nautical theme”, he adds.

With community, history and the need for racial equality never far from Ron’s mind, ‘Flos Potentia’ translates from Spanish as flower power, but rather than promoting some hippy idyll, instead it refers to plants which drove the slave trade: tobacco, sugar and cotton. Joined by Khruangbin, together they propel Dinosaur L, Hi-Tension and afrobeat into an ethereal, clear-skyed stratosphere.
Aside from these esteemed guests, other key influences cited by Trent include ‘Gigolos Get Lonely Too’ by Prince, ‘Beyond’ by Herb Alpert, David Mancuso, Jan Hammer, Tangerine Dream, The Cars, Trevor Horn, Alan Parsons Project and pre-Kraftwerk incarnation Organization. A multitude of others are audible too, including George Bension, Vangelis, Loose Ends, Maze, Flora Purim, Weather Report, Atmosphere, Grace Jones, James Mason and Brass Construction.

On the subject of influences, although opposed to the fences erected by genre tags, to understand where Ron is coming from, and where he’s at, it’s important to acknowledge just how big the palette is from which he paints. Traversing jazz funk, quiet storm, sophisti-pop, new age, new wave, kosmische, Balearic, samba, afrobeat, Latin rock, soft rock and yacht rock, his deeply entrenched digger’s knowledge pays off in dividends.

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

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