Suche:we were promised

For Fans Of: Naked Raygun, The Brokedowns, Fugazi, Pegboy, The Methadones, Dillinger Four, Lookout Records. Brand new music from Sludgeworth?! We're as surprised as you are. When we reissued their LP in 2022, they promised us they would not be playing live as they were disbanded... then they changed their minds (yay!) and their comeback show sold out in six minutes. Six minutes! They went from R.I.P. to BTS. Then the folks at Riot Fest offered Sludgeworth a slot on the big outdoor stage, and it was a happy ending for the old friends... except it wasn't the end. Singer Dan told us the band had no plans for new material, but they were jamming at rehearsal, and as Dan explained to us, "It just happened organically. It felt natural, and the songs felt good." And these are those songs. Sludgeworth is a special band from a special time in Chicago punk, and it's rare to witness an authentic comeback, but the "Together Not Together" 7” is a second chance for us to appreciate their renewed greatness

When first released Astro-Sounds From Beyond The Year 2000 promised an uncharted trip beyond the now generation! And it certainly delivered, as soon as the needle drops onto the opening track ‘Flameout’
we are in astral freak-out territory with cosmic strings phased beats & displaced fuzz guitars... Despite being released as a budget label’s take on the burgeoning psychedelic scene Astro Sounds, delivers the real deal.
This is thanks in no small part to the central role played by Wrecking Crew guitarist Jerry Cole. Cole had previously been the involved some L.A. session colleagues and cut his own psychedelic
album: The Inner Sounds of the Id by 'The Id' and was the perfect choice to front Astro Sounds which can be considered a development from the seminal sounds of the Id.
Astro Sounds has suffered from some unofficial releases that offer poor audio quality. This Vinyl Exotica re-issue is remastered from the original tapes and is presented on coloured vinyl

Repress
Dry mix only single LP edition, reverb mix of 2LP edition excluded.

Issued in 1975, this is the articulation of Zambia’s Zamrock ethos. Its' musicians were anti-colonial freedom fighters, it envelops Zambian folk music traditions, and it rocks - hard. Amanaz were serious, and they made a serious stab at an album. They titled their album Africa, according to original band member Keith Kabwe, “because of how it was shared and how its inhabitants were butchered and enslaved, its resources stolen... all the atrocities slave drivers committed. “ Thus, their “Kale,” a blues sung in Nyanja, that traced the continent’s arc from slavery to Zambia’s independence closes the album. Kabwe and rhythm guitarist John Kanyepa have a winsome softness to their vocals, which sit politely aside the feral growl of drummer Watson Baldwin Lungu, bassist Jerry Mausala and bandleader/lead guitarist Isaac Mpofu. Africa’s vibe ranges from anxious (“Amanaz”) to escapist (“Easy Street”) to straight-up pissed-off. On the “History of Man,” his voice whiskey-burned, his distorted guitar buzzing like swarming hornets, Mpofu indicts his species. There’s a darkness to Africa not found on any other Zamrock records, and a melancholy drifts throughout, specifically on Mpofu’s more restrained “Khala My Friend,” which stands as an effective, bleak situation for the Zambian everyman, the average citizen of a struggling, new nation, who might have had relatives in conflict-torn countries on the horizon, who might have been struggling to find his next meal, who might have seen a bleaker future than his president promised. Then there’s the clear Velvet Underground-influence on the nostalgic “Sunday Morning,” which, as Kabwe recalls, was the first song written for the album, back in 1968, when Velvet Undergound and Nico was a new release - and the underground funk of “Making The Scene.” The album also tackles traditional Zambian music and early-‘60s rock – punctuated, of course by Kanyepa’s wah-wah and Mpofu’s fuzz guitars. But every time Amanaz get too deep, too violent, they come back with an accessible song and woo their listener back to the groove. “Green Apple” is a civil song, featuring Kanyepa’s sighing guitar.

Cate Brooks is back with her seventh release for Clay Pipe Music. Never one to stand still, ‘Easel Studies’ finds her pushing the boundaries of sound synthesis and experimentation on the Buchla Music Easel while still sounding beautifully beguiling and hypnotically melodic.

"On this day in 2015, at exactly Midday, I took delivery of a wildly exotic musical instrument. To call it a synthesizer would be a misrepresentation; it’s really more of a tactile, living, breathing entity than anything else. It had originally supposed to have been delivered on the day before, but had somehow been mislaid in the labyrinths of the Royal Mail sorting office at Elephant and Castle.

I sat patiently and quietly all morning, waiting for its imminent arrival. I had already read through the ‘manual’, which is more of a concept / design for living, written by synthesis legend Allen Strange.

With Noon approaching, I became a little anxious- my local postie, Barrie, was usually here by about 10:30am and there was no sign of him.

At 11:58, Barrie walked past, completely ignoring my house. Obviously concerned, I stood at the door and waited for him to walk back toward his van. As he came back, he smiled and I called out, quizzically “Barrie?”. His reply was “Yes I have!” and walked back to his van, collecting a large box and bringing it to my door. I remember the weather was muggy and my neighbour was attending to her rose bushes, as the cheery and helpful postie deftly navigated around her busy secateurs.

I took the box inside, opened the top and just looked at the inner box for a while. I took a photo of it, which I still have. It felt like quite a momentous occasion, because I felt that this instrument would take me to different sonic spaces than I was used to. It wasn’t my first experience with Don Buchla’s instruments by any means, as I’d learned to use his 200e system. But this was quite a different beast.

My cat Brillo came to inspect the box and I set the Music Easel up on the floor and plugged it in. The result of that very first experiment became “Pendula”.

In the following days and weeks of that summer, I created many more experiments on the Easel, quite often with Brillo either sat on me as I played, or trying to climb up on the instrument itself, attempting to move the faders and switches himself.

By the end of August, I had amassed some thirty-something pieces, which I put aside for future reference. I had learned a lot about this instrument, its idiosyncrasies, subtleties and ways of working.

Sadly, Brillo died in September of 2015. I like to think that his last summer with me was a comforting experience, curling up and listening to the sonic experiments taking place, as he regularly did for the sixteen years he was with me. The first track on the album, “Con Brillo” is my little tribute to him.

Fast forward to 2021 and I rediscovered all of these experiments. Some were almost unlistenable, but some had a beguiling charm about them- perhaps the sound of someone not really knowing what they’re getting into. They needed mixing and balancing, so I set to work. I also wrote a new piece, with exactly the same recording chain, in the same way, in the same room. This became the suitably titled final track “Hindsight”.

The Music Easel has remained a constant source of sonic worlds for me to explore. It because the main instrument on the album Agri Montana, for example and has cropped up on many other records I’ve made since.

I would especially like to thank David at Postmodular for selling the Music Easel to me, after phoning him and disturbing his Sunday afternoon outing to Hyde Park (sorry about that David). I always promised I would send him a copy of something I had produced on it, so hopefully he will enjoy Easel Studies."

As I finish writing this, I notice that it is, once more, exactly Midday.

I hope you enjoy Easel Studies too.

Cate Brooks (21st of May, 2023).

lim. to 250 Copies ww!

"The world is rich, the world is colorful. So why not show it in all its complex diversity and contrasts? Why, when you go in one direction, do you have to follow it further and can't just go in all directions at once? These are all questions that Berlin-based Turkish singer Basak Yavuz may have asked herself when she began recording her new album "Raum 610."

Basak Yavuz doesn't take much time to get down to business. Right away in the opener "Promised Lands," different stylistic elements like jazz, rock, funk and hip-hop chase each other as if it were a matter of life and death. The message is unmistakable: this is about energy. The energy of the big city. Crowds on the sidewalk, congested streets, noise from construction sites, cyclists and drivers yelling at each other, barking dogs, screaming children, shattering glass, a new surprise around every corner. Basak Yavuz does not hide, but picks up the tempo of the Moloch and makes it her own pulse with all its fractures and border crossings. She is not afraid to overload her songs, but confidently juggles the explosiveness of creative oversaturation." (Wolf Kampmann)

Sublime Christian folk jazz from 1970s Norway. In the '60s and '70s churches throughout Europe had serious competition for the attention of its younger members. The ecclesiastical establishment was shocked to hear teenagers expressing 'Sympathy for the Devil' rather than sympathy for Christ and his teachings. In Norway at this time the same situation was prevalent as was happening across Europe; teenagers were turning their back on the church and embracing the temptations and pleasures of the flourishing new pop culture. Priest Olaf Hillestad was all to aware of what was going on, and instead of relying on the floundering traditional methods of rounding up his flock, he embraced the musical aspirations of his younger followers. In so doing he founded the Forum Experimentale in Oslo, an organisation that promised in its statutes to "boldly work for a renewal in service life, church music and church art". It was here in the late '60s where That's Why founder members Jan Simonsen and Per Arne Løvold became responsible for the jazz masses at Forum Experimentale's chapel. Together with some top-notch musicians from other Christian music centres around the Oslo district, they recorded two albums in 1970 and 1971 under the moniker That's Why. That's Why blended deep acoustic and electric jazz with elements of Norwegian folklore and Christianity. They also included interpretations of young and old transcendental Norwegian poets such as Sidsel Mørck Krogdahl, Alfred Hauge and Aslaug Vaa, as well as introducing English and Swedish songwriters such as Åke Rosenstrøm and Charles Wesley and even William Blake's "Children of the Future Age" into the mix. This highly original fusion of secular rhythmic music, jazz improvisation and a distinguished selection of transcendental lyrics is one of the standout qualities of That's Why, separating them from more programme-orientated Christian music. The unique mix leads the listener to think they are hearing among the record grooves the tightness of grey, sober Protestantism along with the ecstasy of a lay preacher. This listener, for one, has never heard anything quite like it.

Formed in Fullerton, CA in 1978, Social Distortion were one of the original LA punk groups and their first single was released on legendary LA punk label Posh Boy. But far more rare than that first single ("Mainliner" b/w "Playpen") is the unreleased EP Posh Boy's Little Monsters. This EP only made it to the test pressing stage back in 1981, and featured those two tracks from the first single along with "All The Answers" and "Justice For All." This is the absolute holy grail for Social Distortion fans and it's finally available in commercial form on two limited edition pressings for RSD 2019, black vinyl available worldwide and a Europe only red vinyl limited edition. Includes 2 bonus tracks.
“Of the 3 teenagers who recorded for me, one has died, another was believed to be dead and one became immensely wealthy from playing music. The one who did hard time in prison was not Mike Ness. It was the drummer Carrot, better known as John Stevenson, now living a very ordinary life in rural Florida.
I now count John as a dear friend. Apparently, he was only l6 years old when he rolled into the studio that day in April l98l, armed with a taped up pair of drumsticks. He played great as did both Mike and Dennis (RIP). This time there was no fighting in the studio over production values. I had promised Ness that we would not fight so once there was a minor disagreement over the artwork for the proposed l2", I dropped the project in favor of the Playpen/Mainliner 7" which sported iconic artwork from the band.”

WaterTower Music today announced the release of the eagerly-awaited House of the Dragon: Season 1 (Soundtrack from the HBO® Series), featuring 44 tracks from the first season of House of the Dragon, the Game of Thrones prequel which aired on HBO and HBO Max in August, and whose final season aired last night. All the music for the soundtrack was created by Emmy Award-winning and Grammy®-nominated composer Ramin Djawadi, responsible for the immensely popular scores for HBO's Game of Thrones and Westworld.


Four of Djawadi's tracks were released during the season to great acclaim from fans of the series. Today, fans can enjoy House of the Dragon: Season 1 (Soundtrack from the HBO® Series) in its entirety on 3LP gatefold vinyl, which is now available for pre-order.

Repress!

We were planning the release of the NUfrequency new single when the terrible news of the sudden death of Cristiano Massera, one half of the duo, has left us without breath. We are still shocked, because Cristiano was not only a great musician and producer but a friend and a wonderful person. The production of the album 'Connected', and songs such as 'Go That Deep' and 'Fallen Hero' will remain in our hearts forever, because the music he produced with NUfrequency is timeless !
'Promised' features again the beautiful and touching vocals of the legendary Shara Nelson, A soul singer with a voice from heaven, who achieved the success as member of British dance collective and trip-hop pioneers Massive Attack. Shara wrote and sung one of the biggest and most memorable anthems, and the group's biggest hit, 'Unfinished Sympathy' and also co-wrote several other songs on their groundbreaking debut album 'Blue Lines'.
Recorded in 2010, 'Promised' gets a vinyl only release, with remixes from Adesse Versions and Charles Webster.The mysterious Adesse Versions, hot on the heels of his releases on Prime Numbers and Make Love In Public Places, delivers a strong vocal version, in his own inimitable style. Charles Webster, works out a super dubby version bringing back the gold days of deep house music. A precious and special release ! Rest in peace Cristiano.

40 plus years after Out of Vogue and Pay to Cum came, USA HC punk has died many deaths. Only to be brought back to life wave after wave. Perhaps only to be sold again as a cleaner version of itself. However there seem to always be a bunch of miscreats that spit on HC grave and enjoy making dirty and aggressive fast music as if their lifes were on it. NOSFERATU is one of them. What we have here is the long promised vinyl version of their last year cassette tape. On it you’ll find 11 songs of boom box sounding hardcore PUNK. Fast and raging, without an ounce of metal or cuteness on it. Think of YDI or E-13 but also WRETCHED or SYSTEMATIC DEATH. Short songs as burst of energy with an attention to detail to their craft the way only someone who has worn out their HEREJIA or ANTI-DOGMATIKSS tapes can create. In so many words, NOSFERATU sounds, in my mind, as the missing hidden track on Killed By Hardcore vol. 2. This version of Society’s Bastard comes as a double A side 12” with the same program repeating on both sides, why not? Packed in a beautiful sleeve and recorded at D4mt Labds in a whim merely a week after writing them. (Tesco Holocaust

Phase O' Matic, an eccentric treasure hunter, ventures to the Parcel Islands after hearing about Erik and Huber's psychedelic antics. Intrigued by tales of a telepathic shark guarding a hallucinogenic treasure (Shadowfin), he dives deep into the South China Sea wearing his signature glowing shark tooth necklace.

Amidst swirling colors and cosmic jellyfish, Phase communicates telepathically with the school of sharks and ends up locating something he did not expect to find: hundreds of aged vials labelled 'Acid Lean'. Phase O' Matic quickly realized that the 'Acid Lean' vials were the very eau de vie Serb and Paramedic initially sought. He decides to deliver the treasure to Qassem Acidmani himself, hoping to claim the elusive reward promised by Gandalf OG.

Death Is Not The End sub-label 333 turns up the gold again with this repro of the much in-demand Flames cut of Nairobi Sisters' Promised Land. Sampled by Q-Tip for "Whateva Will Be" (appearing on ATCQ's final long-player) and on a range of earlier 90s boom-bap era productions, it is not at all hard to figure out why it's a coveted record. That break is as low-slung and funky as it gets, and best showcased on the superbly stripped-back dub on the flip.

The Nairobi Sisters were singers Terrie Nairobi and Judy Mowatt (later of the I-Threes, alongside Rita Marley & Marcia Griffiths). Promised Land was originally recorded together with The Gaytones for Sonia Pottinger's Gay Feet label, with this later version cut for Winston Jones' Brooklyn-based Flames Records. It is issued here under license from producer and songwriter Jones - the original singer and composer of Stop That Train (later made world-famous by Keith & Tex's version) with his Spanishtonians in the early 1960s - who later moved from JA to NYC where he established and ran the Flames label, a core imprint in Brooklyn's reggae scene from the mid-1970s until the early 1990s. 333 has licensed a range of Flames-era productions from the now Texas-based Jones, so keep and eye out for more as it comes... but for now, jump on this before it's gone!

Selected Songs 1997-2003 compiles some of the finest moments in the recording history of Hydroplane, the Melbourne-based indie-pop three-piece that operated alongside The Cat’s Miaow through the second half of the nineties. It’s the third release in what feels, now, like a loosely planned series by World Of Echo, documenting the music made by this group of friends in Melbourne sharehouses (The Cat’s Miaow’s Songs ’94-’98, 2022), or in the case of The Shapiros (Gone By Fall, 2023), while traversing the International Pop Underground.

Hydroplane would be familiar to anyone already following these breadcrumb trails – Andrew Withycombe, Bart Cummings and Kerrie Bolton were the group’s core, all members of The Cat’s Miaow. With Cat’s Miaow drummer Cameron Smith itinerant, having moved to London, the trio used this opportunity to expand their music. It’s a subtle, but important shift. If The Cat’s Miaow was about the perfect, minimalist, two-minute pop song, Hydroplane’s music was far more open-ended, embracing the loops and drones, sampled house-y shuffle beats, the burbling of a Roland Jupiter-4 synth, all of which the trio joined, effortlessly, to their endless capacity for moving, elegant melodicism.

They may have only planned to release one seven-inch single, but the sound Hydroplane created was so bewitching, so compelling, that the project’s lifespan ran for around half a decade, and they ended up releasing three albums, including a self-titled debut recently reissued by Efficient Space, and seven singles. There are all kinds of compelling things happening in the music compiled here – the hazy repetition of the gentler side of Krautrock is in here, somewhere, which also suggests Stereolab at their most intimate and disarmed; the gently drifting guitars, gauzy and oneiric, set the songs adrift and floating, each one lost in its own imagined, distracted world. Songs like “The Love You Bring” set indistinct tonal floats across dance rhythms, in a way not quite heard since My Bloody Valentine’s “Instrumental” – but with the added gift of Bolton’s gorgeous voice.

This loose coalition with dance music, and the quiet experimentalism at the heart of Hydroplane, also gestures towards peers like Hood, Acetate Zero and Other People’s Children, and releases on renegade labels like Wurlitzer Jukebox and Enraptured. Like those groups and labels, The Cat’s Miaow were reconciling independent pop music’s past – sweet melody and melancholy, chiming and droning guitars – with the futures promised by DIY electronics and nascent digitalia, the interface of indie and IDM that led to some of the underground’s most blissful, texturally swoonsome music. All that is here, but also, the poise of the melodies is pure Cat’s Miaow, though, with Bolton’s voice sailing, pacifically, over some of the most pared-down, gorgeous music made during their decade.

It was a time, too, when such music could make waves – “We Crossed The Atlantic”, one of their early singles, was picked up by John Peel, who played it repeatedly on his legendary radio show, the song reaching #13 on his 1997 Festive 50. That the song itself was a cover of a tune by 1960s Australian beatnik-pop-poet Pip Proud felt even more perfect – a group of outsiders paying tribute to another outsider, played on the radio one of the few broadcasters brave and human enough to take a chance on this music. But it was a time where everything was up for grabs, and genres were flowing into each other: folk songs went drone; indie re-discovered noise; ambient pop floated, again, out onto the dancefloor. And while they may have been sequestered away in Melbourne, Australia, Hydroplane felt core to that scene, a quietly driving force.

Compiling material from across their brief but mercurial career, this double album perfectly captures the magic and mystery of Hydroplane’s dreamlike, perfect pop songs.

Amanaz were serious, and they made a serious stab at an album. They titled their album Africa, according to original band member Keith Kabwe, “because of how it was shared and how its inhabitants were butchered and enslaved, its resources stolen… all the atrocities slave drivers committed. “ Thus, their “Kale,” a blues sung in Nyanja, that traced the continent’s arc from slavery to Zambia’s independence closes the album. Kabwe and rhythm guitarist John Kanyepa have a winsome softness to their vocals, which sit politely aside the feral growl of drummer Watson Baldwin Lungu, bassist Jerry Mausala and bandleader/lead guitarist Isaac Mpofu. Africa’s vibe ranges from anxious (“Amanaz”) to escapist (“Easy Street”) to straight-up pissed-off. On the “History of Man,” his voice whiskeyburned, his distorted guitar buzzing like swarming hornets, Mpofu indicts his species.
There’s a darkness to Africa not found on any other Zamrock records, and a melancholy drifts throughout, specifically on Mpofu’s more restrained “Khala My Friend,” which stands as an effective, bleak situation for the Zambian everyman, the average citizen of a struggling, new nation, who might have had relatives in conflict-torn countries on the horizon, who might have been struggling to find his next meal, who might have seen a bleaker future than his president promised. Then there’s the clear Velvet Underground-influence on the nostalgic “Sunday Morning,” which, as Kabwe
recalls, was the first song written for the album, back in 1968, when Velvet Undergound and Nico was a new release - and the underground funk of “Making The Scene.” The album also tackles traditional Zambian music and early-‘60s rock – punctuated, of course by Kanyepa’s wah-wah and Mpofu’s fuzz guitars. But every time Amanaz get too deep, too violent, they come back with an accessible song and woo their listener back to the groove. “Green Apple” is a civil song, featuring Kanyepa’s sighing guitar. It is a perfectly arranged album, from the dichotomy of Mpofu’s and Kanyepa’s lead and rhythm guitars, to the vocal harmonies, to the rhythm section’s sense of space and time, which allows Africa’s funk to build. Inexplicably, Africa was given two separate mixes and two separate presses: one version is dry, with the vocals and drums mixed loud, the other slathered in reverb, with the vocals and drums disappearing into the mix, and with the guitar solos mixed much louder. We’ve presented them both here as they each have their appeal: it’s up to the listener to pick the one he or she prefers. This is a highpoint of the Zamrock scene and we hope that this can be seen as its definitive reissue.

‘Happiness, Guaranteed’ is about the cyclical nature of our modern dissatisfaction. It’s a brief dive into the frustrations our desires bring in our attempts to reach a level of contentment. Each song explores the pursuit of happiness within our relationships, our work, and our wealth all whilst finding ways to be content with what you have whilst balancing a desire to grow. Having come off the back of touring our first record Shadowboxer we were keen to get back in the room together and start writing new material. Traditionally we had taken the approach of writing sketches alone and sharing them with each other in the studio. We wanted to shake this process up and decided to rent a house, set up our instruments, and play freely together with no expectations, we did this over a couple of months. A lot of the music we made during those sessions felt like new territory for us and a move in the right direction. One of the first songs we landed on was MORE, which is based around a character disillusioned by their desire for consuming possessions. It’s a tongue-in-cheek exploration into how we’re sold happiness with what we can buy, something which we all really resonated with at the time -filling our apartments with furniture, buying gear, and settling back down into a post-tour life. Don’t Wait was another important piece of the puzzle. It’s a song that reckons with a break up and greeting the great unknown. It was a more joyous moment in the record, touching on the freedoms of growing up and having a better understanding of who you are and what you want in a relationship. The Trouble with Us was a similar exploration but focused more on the pain and frustration of a relationship ending. Throughout the record there’s this desire to arrive, to reach what we’ve been promised in life, a sense of completion and happiness.

Vessels promise an escape from responsibilities towards the landscape, they facilitate our avoidance of conscientiously feeling our attachment to the mainland. The visual nothingness of deep water and clean horizons fools the brain and delivers a treacherous feeling of independence.

We ignore the truths expressed by landscapes, so we mould them into urban projects for our strange desires. We clean up the irrationalities by which nature constructs itself. Then we look up to the skies, where the abstractions we have to draw in our minds should reside and inspire us.

We peer into the various shades of blue above the waters, the emptiness guarantees possibilities of our abstractions becoming realities. The apathetic stare into neat, straight horizons transforms our ancestral landscape into dirt and danger, when looking back to it.

To be on a ship under quarantine, is an upside down experience, for the promised escape has turned into a forced paralysis. The Lima flag (? - ? ?, in morse code), presented on the outer sleeve of this record, indirectly demands of all passengers to stay aboard and contemplate their escape from the land they now desire to return to.

These four piano pieces could be considered as a classical sonata (allegroadagio-scherzo-rondo). In a recital they are accompanied by four video pieces by artist Karl Van Welden. We picked the videos out of his extensive archive, choosing images intuitively while listening to the piano music. The theme of ships relating to quarantine thus came unannounced but of course, we were in the middle of the pandemic at the time.

Solastalgia was already waiting as a title for the new album before march 2020. I first came across the word in Underland, a book by Robert Macfarlane (2019). He defines the word as "The unhappiness of people whose landscapes are being transformed about them by forces beyond their control". These forces and this unhappiness are, I believe, what constitutes the modern human. Solastalgia, about the music We haven't found them yet, the words to talk to each other about the worrying signs of climate change. Feeling worried when walking on autumn leaves in the beginning of August should be completely normal. But how do we communicate about it? We don't want to be just the next hysterical doomer.

With this music I try to focus on the climate pain itself, gently inviting the listener to investigate their latent feelings of unease and growing concerns about the environment. As in real life, we circumvent the real issues because they are just too big, there are no words, no expressions yet.

This album tries, in four different attempts, to carve out a path towards communicating about a deeper pain that eventually will connect us all. My general method is to start with a comforting melody, full of fake nostalgia, which, after changing gear to autodestruct mode, morphs into a painful question mark.

The first part sets off with an idyllic melody, accompanied by repeated notes, as a far, muted echo of an alarm. The melody starts to explain itself painfully into a dissonant whirlwind in the high register, sounding not unlike Ravel's Gaspard de la Nuit bravura. In the second piece a warm Beatles like melody (And I love her) gets confronted with the weird hippie mantra of a later Lennon song War is over, if you want it. Sentences get reduced to syllables and result in lonely notes that crash and shiver under the burden of too much meaning. Like Shostakovich's latest work, the Sonata for viola and piano.

The descending melody of Bach's Erbarme dich, Mein Gott is echoed in the upper and lower voicings of the third piece, juxtaposed to a typical, threatening Ennio Morricone Western dotted rhythm accompaniment. This rhythm eventually evolves into citing the 1972 Captain Beefheart early ecological warning song Blabber and Smoke (there's a big pane/pain in your window, it's gonna hang you all,... dangle you all). Towards the middle of the piece, the music explodes and the three layers get dispersed all over the keyboard in a virtuosic maelstrom towards another painful question mark. The bitter answer is going back to business with a barely noticeable citation of the first notes of the RZA's Liquid Swords album.

The final piece is some kind of mantra, the same 7/4 pulse all throughout the piece. The dampers of all A's and B's on the keyboard are released by the middle pedal, thus sustaining an ever present resonance. Melodic cells alternate in shifting quantifications with small, bell like percussive cluster playing. While composing this piece an image crept up: walking out of the church on Sunday morning, tolling bells enthusiastically moderating the churchgoers' small talk in the local dialect. Apparently I have tried to evoke this kind of conversation, but injecting it with fictitious alarming conversation topics, the contemporary.

Frederik Croene (August '22)

2 Vinyl Disc - Swirl Color - Live archive release
Chuck Berry, the songwriter and guitarist now known worldwide as the Father of
Rock & Roll, came from humble beginnings. The complete Concert. Mastered
from the Analog Tapes: There was no shortage of historic rock music festivals in
1969, from highs of Woodstock to the crashing lows of Altamont. Meanwhile,
interest was steadily building on another front. A full-fledged 1950s rock and roll
revival was brewing, and the idiom's pioneers were experiencing a Renaissance.
No longer viewed as over-the-hill relics, they stood as vital sources of real rock
and roll. Combining the two contrasting demographics at one event was a rare
sight to behold, but the Toronto Rock 'n' Roll Revival 1969, held that September 13
at the University of Toronto's Varsity Stadium, represented that unlikely hybrid.
That afternoon the Father of Rock & Roll returned to lead the apostles of rock into
the next decade. After decades of inferior releases, for the first time, this
historical concert is presented in its entirety. Includes, School Days, Carol,
Memphis, Nadine, Rock & Roll Music, Johnny B. Goode, I'm Your Hoochie Coochie
Man, Too Much Monkey Business, Sweet Little Sixteen, Goodnight Sweetheart
Goodnight and more. Double LP Pressed on Swirl Color Color Vinyl.

Cassandra Jenkins' An Overview on Phenomenal Nature emerged from the blue earlier this year. With pandemic unknowns and political upheaval leaving most at frayed ends, the New York-born musician’s assuring voice and expansive fresh take on songwriting created a much needed reflective space for listeners worldwide. As 2021 comes to a close, Jenkins revisits those flowing textures and refrains with (An Overview On) An Overview On Phenomenal Nature, a collection of previously unreleased sonic sketches, initial run-throughs, demos, and sound recordings from the cutting room floor that provided the scaffolding for what became one of this year’s most critically acclaimed albums.

When Jenkins visited Josh Kaufman’s studio this summer, they opened up their original sessions to uncover the ideas that were shed in the creative process. The new collection, (An Overview On) An Overview On Phenomenal Nature, isn’t merely a retrospective; it acts as a clear-eyed addendum as well as a compelling origin story, coming to life as a subconscious companion to the original album.

First takes of “New Bikini” and “Hailey” are born from opposite starting points; while “New Bikini” began as an airy alto meander, “Hailey”’s origins lie in an upbeat dance track. On “Crosshairs (Interlude),” Jenkins’ pitched vocal delivers a straight monotone, recasting the format as poetry with music highlighting her words, and “Ambiguous Norway (Instrumental)” lifts the ambient nature of the mournful song into glimmering waves. The demo version of “Michelangelo” contains alternate lyrics “I’m Michelangelo, a Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtle,” a lost contrast to the later verse where Jenkins’ likens herself to the sculptor. On “Hard Drive (Security Guard),” we join Jenkins as she listens to a passionate museum guard whose promised “overview” of the exhibit on view builds into a monologue of observations on art, politics, feminism and the human condition. This candid interaction evolved into the cornerstone and title of Jenkins’ album.

Before they decided to make an album together, Jenkins brought Kaufman a song called “American Spirits.”The dusky ballad takes us to the Texas plains via a voicemail from the payphone of a county jail (“Miss Cassandra”). Cassandra sings, “Time here burns through the sunsets / Like you and a pack of American Spirits” over warm instrumentation with a vocal delivery that reinforces Jenkins’ unwavering tenderness towards her subjects.

(An Overview On) An Overview On Phenomenal Nature bookends Cassandra Jenkins' musical output this year with nuance, coloring in the corners, and giving us another window into her ever-expanding world of chance encounters, experiences, and sonic textures. They glimmer like the sun’s changing patterns on the wall as a new day gets going.

Octahedron Each of the Mars Volta albums that preceded Octahedron had pushed the envelope further, their music growing larger, more intense, more complex.

Each had delivered an implied, unspoken challenge to its makers within milliseconds of its final notes: “top this”. And with each subsequent album, Omar and Cedric had turned their creative dials up one more notch, a further step past “eleven”.

With the addition of new drummer Thomas Pridgen, and their ranks swollen by extra guitarists, more percussion and a sax-player, the intensity of The Mars Volta’s sound had increased. Octahedron, however, would follow The Bedlam In Goliath’s brilliant excesses with a sideways step few were expecting, even though the group had telegraphed their intentions to take this new direction for years.

“This one didn’t have multi-layered sub-texts or any sinister spirits,” says Omar, referencing predecessor Goliath’s traumatic birth. “Octahedron was like an expression of will into reality. Like, ‘This one will be easy, this one will be fun’. Everything had a different process.” “Octahedron was a rebellion,” adds Cedric. “Us saying, ‘This isn’t like anything we’ve done before. This is our “pop” album.’ We’d always promised we’d do a ‘pop’ album.’ This was it.”

Spoken word recordings from Gregory Corso, Tina May Hall, Sam Lipsyte, Christine Schutt, Gary Lutz, Allen Ginsberg, Dawn Raffel, Jason Schwartz, Kathryn Scanlan, Scott McClanahan, & Terry Southern. About 40 years ago, in a record shop on Long Island during a weekend visit there to see my parents, i found a double-LP that looked like something i should definitely buy. It was called "BIG EGO", by the The DIAL-a-POEM POETS. On the cover was a picture of John Giorno (a great poet Ed Sanders had turned me on to) on a NYC rooftop with Philip Glass, Meredith Monk, and two kids. It cost $2. I bought it and rushed back to my parents house, where i still had my old turntable in the basement, not far from my Jimi Hendrix and Zappa Crappa posters, and my framed portrait of John Cage. My copy of Eno's "Discreet Music" was still on the turntable, having been left there years before, when i'd fled Long Island for good. I lifted it from the platter, gently slid it back into its sleeve, like a priceless religious artifact, and put Side A of the Dial-a-Poem LP on. I almost lost my mind while listening to it. The next day i went back to the same record shop looking for more DIAL-A-POEM LP's. i found two. One had a long list of names on the back, some famous, and some i'd never heard of before. I bought both LP's, and an hour later, for the first time in my life, i was exposed to the art of Laurie Anderson, whom i'd never heard of before. This was 1978. Her contribution was a piece called "Time To Go". It changed my life. Or at least, that’s how I remember it. I was just a kid, so there were a lot of moments like that, around then. Nowadays, these moments can be had in seconds, with a click of the cursor. That evening, as i sat alone by my imaginary campfire (ie; that record player in my parents basement), i promised myself that someday, somehow, i would embark upon a WORDS & MUSIC project that might move people the same way i was moved when i first heard Laurie, and Robert Wilson & Christopher Knowles, and Burroughs, and Ginsberg, and Corso, and Anne Waldman, and John Ashbery, and the great Charles Olson, and so many others. Words, for the very first time, had wielded the same power as music. And it was visceral. Just like music. It ran deep. It was a FEELING. John Giorno died in 2019, but he kept poetry alive like nobody's business. I was lucky enough to have spent some time with him in the early 1980's, when i was briefly a member of The Fugs, and often found myself surrounded by those Ginsberg called, "...the greatest minds of my generation". Ed Sanders (who'd ushered me into that scene) once told me that when he came to NYC, it was easy to go to a cafe, or to St Marks Church, and hear Burroughs, Corso, Ginsberg, and all the greats, reading their poetry. He said that even if you were just a bum on the street, you could just walk right up to them, and start a conversation. They were totally accessible, if they were in the right mood at that particular moment. So i was shocked when Sanders told me he didn't approach any of them, not even once, til he'd been going to their readings for nearly ten years. "For almost a decade, I went to every reading, every lecture, every panel discussion. But I never went near them. Never approached them. Not even once", Sanders told me. "For ten years, all I did, was listen." It took me four decades, but ... better late than never. I finally made WORDS & MUSIC, Book One.