Suche:west end

One of the most politically charged terms of the 20th century, the Iron Curtain was a metaphor for political and cultural division. In a post-war telegram Winston Churchill referred to the fault line that ran through Europe between East and West as "an Iron Curtain is drawn down upon their front. We do not know what is going on behind".



In this two-part album, as far as jazz is concerned, we will showcase, describe and celebrate exactly what was 'going on behind'. We see that music is the power supreme, with the ability to transcend all barriers, be they physical, political or metaphorical.



Our liner notes illustrate the complex and contradictory history of Soviet jazz, and the tracks we've chosen cover the key period of the early 1960s to the 1980s. It was during these dark years of the Cold War that the Soviet Union and its satellite states produced a number of outstanding artists playing in a variety of styles. The impact of modernism, from hard bop and Latin to modal and cool jazz, had found its way through cracks in the curtain. The deeply-felt ancestral strains of traditional European folk music were combined with the exciting new and progressive sounds of the West, and a radical, intoxicating brew was created that no amount of guns, tanks or polonium tea could overcome.



We chronicle the triumph of jazz at a time of extreme geopolitical conflict. What went on behind the Iron Curtain in these countries was once mysterious and unknown to the West, but the perseverance of their artists provided sound and light amid the secretive, dark days of the communist-capitalist standoff. There was no end of life-affirming spiritual jazz behind the Iron Curtain.



"Whether it's by improvisation in the African-American jazz tradition, or by a village kobza player standing on top of a damn hill - he feels connected to the stars."

Repress! on Red Coloured Vinyl

The interstellar cosmonauts of Staatseinde create a theatrical mix of pulsing electro with nostalgic hopeful synthlines, all performed live with synthesizers, a sequencer and tantalizing vocals. From Wave to EBM, from NDW to Punk and everything else in and out of the box. It is like walking into a club meeting Kraftwerk on speed and The Sex Pistols on acid.

Their new release “De Nieuwe Golf” is characterized by dystopian prospects and hopeful sounds, confirming Staatseinde’s name as the founder of the “Neue Niederländische Welle”, in other words the New Dutch Wave.

The uplifting italo rifs in opening track “Grauw” take you on a journey through a gray world in which color cannot be taken for granted. Minimal wave track “Einzelganger” makes you feel like an outsider who can’t keep up with society. “Geef Me De Tijd” sounds like a schizophrenic dreamer swinging casually, but ending as a hard hitting track. Dystopian doom and pessimism is captured in EBM/techno floor filler “Doembeelden”. The raw West Coast Sound of Holland infused “La Haya” is a tribute to the city of The Hague which calls out on everybody to get wasted. The epic ode to space travel “Ruimtevaart Vooruit (2022 Refix)” is back in a rendition inspired by Rude66’s 2010 remix version. “Isla Inutile” is a dark and tropical delirium. In the hopeful “Alles is Weg”, Staatseinde takes you from the downfall on the way to…?

Staatseinde’s “De Nieuwe Golf” holds up a mirror to humanity…progress has not helped us any further. There is hope…but will this new wave be on time? Or is it already too late?

AN ATLAS OF LOSS

Do minerals dream of becoming semiconductors? Do they yearn to carry charges, amplify, switch, and convert energy into emotions comprehensible to humans? And what if, from the darkness of the underground, they had been listening to us sing in caves before the emergence of the first flute? Could they have guided us, through the course of history, to find them, extract them, and create new sounds through sinusoidal waves, to form valves and bend circuits?

If so, minerals would transition from what philosopher Eugene Thacker defines as the ‘planet’—that virginal and unreachable realm for humans that we study through geology, paleontology, and environmental sciences—to the ‘world,’ the space we inhabit, interpret, and synthesise in our daily lives. Sadly, we only remember the world when it erupts violently, through climate catastrophes or when a new virus emerges. Sometimes a tsunami collides with a nuclear plant, or viruses are cultivated as biological weapons in high-security laboratories, provoking a deep biological anxiety, hard to quell, which we all feel beneath our skin.

There exists a third realm, disconnected from both the world and the planet: the ‘earth’, an immense, dense rock floating in space alongside other planets, situated in the cosmological dimension. Relating to the earth is so complex that we only do so through theoretical speculations of a scientific nature or through science fiction, interweaving until one becomes the prophecy of the other, in an infinite, pendular dance. Beyond the darkness of space and Lovecraft’s cosmic horror, the fantasy of human extinction is the most recurrent: to reach a collapse so devastating that we do not survive it, even though the earth does, without us.

In a world where we quantify everything through body sensors, financial algorithms, nanometre-scale robots, and surveillance drones—a world in which everything that can be domesticated and controlled can also be commodified—a superior artificial intelligence would survive the collapse of the species (some speculate it might even cause it) and learn from our mistakes, thanks to our obsessive gathering of data.

Long after our voices fade, minerals will persist in the darkness of screens, in the silicon of chips, and in their pure form, still unexploited underground. Over the millennia, this intelligence might piece together fragments of our reasoning, as if an alien civilization finally connected with one of our spacecrafts loaded with messages cast into the void. It would sort through endless streams of data, unable to grasp the depths of emotion behind what it quantified, recreating simulations of our past, stripped of the nuance that once defined us and conducting experiments in sandboxes.

Some remnants of our existence—faint echoes of forgotten beauty—would be pieced together in an atlas of loss, buried beneath layers of numbers, decayed bots, and corroded hard drives. What will follow? Perhaps bison will once again roam—trotting to the strange pulse of techno, their ancient forms framed by the ruins of our cities.

Buildings will crumble, slowly dissolving under the soft touch of ambient music, and a thousand flowers will bloom with that ancient music created through electrical signals and computation. 7 songs for a future both improbable and inevitable—a final message from a world lost to itself, from planet Earth to planet Earth.

Alfons Pich, 2025

180 G. BLACK VINYL WITH LINER NOTES IN CREOLE, FRENCH, ENGLISH

Originally released in 1979, "Spiritual Sound" lives up to its name, a soaring, triumphant album, six tracks of spirit magic from Guadeloupe.

Telluric, intense, terribly alive, the gwoka drums of Guadeloupe carry the identity of a painful and fervent island. Marked forever by the crime of slavery, Guadeloupe's créolité cherishes the ka drums and their natural environment: the low-pitched boula drum with male goatskin, the high-pitched soloist makè drum with female goatskin, the chacha, ti bwa, triangle, calabash and other percussion instruments that surround them, and the voices - the fiery, proud, timbred, urgent voices of the gwoka.



This album is also a legend for its voices: in his then dazzling youth, singer Lukuber Séjor was one of the first gwoka artists to largely feminize the chorus of répondè, who converse with his text delivered in a straight and powerful voice.

And everything here sets new standards. In 1979, Mizik Filamonik - Spiritual Sound proclaimed a spiritual patriotism of ferocious intensity. The album by Lukuber Séjor - whose spelling alone is a battle - sets out to give Guadeloupe the intangible weapons of self-respect and self-knowledge, through a singular practice of traditional music.

The genesis of gwoka music is less straightforward than one might imagine... The drums performed the servile task of accompanying the work of slaves in the fields and during the “corvées” imposed by the administration, before being freely practiced by the common people after the abolition of 1848. At the heart of the conviviality of the Guadeloupeans furthest from the cities - geographically and socially - the gwoka drums come out for carnival, funeral wakes and neighborhood celebrations, but also during strikes, fits of anger and armed vigils of the riots and revolts that have punctuated the island's history. For generations, governors of the colony and then the prefects of the overseas department of Guadeloupe have been viewing the gwoka as a potential for turbulence and a threat to public order.

But as the Beatlesmania, “chanson engagée” and rock revolutions unfolded in Europe, young people turned to the drums of mizik a vié nèg (“bad negro music”, in Creole), which Guadeloupeans had learned to despise by following the “assimilation” process advocated by the school system and most of the political class. At the end of the sixties, in a Guadeloupe mourning the deadly repression of the May 1967 social movement, they played traditional music, refusing to wrap it up in tourist prettiness and madras folk costumes. Instinctively, they played a rough and contemporary gwoka, led by the incendiary Guy Konkèt. This was the era of decisive 45 rpm records such as Robert Loyson's Kann a la richès, which brought to light the fieriest words of union rallies.

At his home in Sainte-Anne, Lukuber Séjor played with flautist Olivier Vamur and his brother Claude Vamur, who cobbled together a drum kit from tin crockery and became, a few years later, the most influential drummer in Kassav'.

These were the years of the Bumidom program, when young Guadeloupeans were encouraged to emigrate to mainland France. At the age of twenty, Lukuber Séjor embarked on the liner Irpinia, disembarking at Le Havre and taking the train to the Gare Saint-Lazare - the route taken by thousands of young West Indians who went on to study or looked for work, all the while trying to maintain a link with their homeland. In this case, it's at the Antony university residence, where Lukuber played the drum and participated in a thousand gwoka updates and aggiornamentos, while exile reinforced the need for a spiritual link with the native land.

In 1978, Guy Konkèt played at the Salle Wagram, a historic event for West Indian music. After serving as répondè - i.e. backing vocalist - on one of his home-recorded albums, Lukuber joined his live band. Little by little, he became one of the key artists on a circuit parallel to French show business. At a student party in Caen, he met a young woman from Martinique who, at the time, was more motivated by her ambitions as a visual artist than by her vocation as a musician. Her name was Jocelyne Béroard and, a few years before she plunged into the Kassav' adventure and became the greatest West Indian singer of her generation, she designed the cover of Lukuber Séjor's LP.

This ambition was obvious and imposed its will. A more or less regular band was formed, with Roger Raspail, Rudy Mompière and Éric Danquin on ka drums, Claude Vamur on ti bwa, Olivier Vamur and Françoise Lancréot on flutes and Annick Noël on keyboards. Lukuber Séjor is set on wanting to extend the gwoka palette to other instruments, as the jazz-rock revolution opens a thousand new doors. Annick Noël will play a wide range of timbres and textures on electric piano and synthesizer. Another novelty: the répondè are two men and two women, Roger Raspail, Olivier Vamur, Françoise Lancréot and Maryann Mathéus ...

Mizik Filamonik - Spiritual Sound is a self-production in which the singer and leader sank all his savings, allowing him no more than a single day in the studio. The first side is more of a musical manifesto, with the first two tracks, Éritage and Penn é plézi, being instrumentals. The third, Son, forcefully celebrates the need for Guadeloupeans to connect with the gwoka. In fact, Jocelyne Béroard's cover shows a tambouyé in the shadow of a cloudy sky, against which a radiant sun is rising and whose light will soon flood the entire landscape. The silhouette and face of this man strongly evoke the immense Vélo, master of the ka, rejected at the time on the fringes of society.

The second side of the LP is surprising. Formally, three tracks are explicitly linked like the three parts of a triptych. Primyé voyaj evokes the appalling tribulation of Africans deported as slaves to Guadeloupe; dézyèm voyaj speaks of the Bumidom program and the economic, political and social forces driving young Guadeloupeans towards the mirage of prosperity in France; twazyèm voyaj closes the cycle with the emigrants' return from Europe after years away from their island...

This gwoka, obsessed with the need to save Guadeloupe spiritually, appeals far beyond the politicized audience. Mizik Filamonik - Spiritual Sound instantly became a classic, although Lukuber Séjor never really made a career for himself as a musician.

After all, the album was released in 1980, with no promotional resources in France or Guadeloupe - and therefore no concerts. The thirty-two-year-old author, composer and performer made his own third trip back to Guadeloupe. He set up a small woodworking business, which he lost in Hurricane Hugo in 1989. His other activity, teaching in a medical-educational institute, became the core of his professional life. He continued to be an active campaigner - a campaigner for the Creole language, a campaigner for the reawakening of identity, a campaigner for special education, a campaigner for a thousand causes that he ignited with his generous and perceptive enthusiasm, such as the defense of breadfruit fries...

The echoes of his 1979 album have not died down. Of course, the use of Penn é plézi as the theme tune for Radio Guadeloupe's funeral notices from 1980 to 1992 kept him in the collective memory, but he continues to sing and compose sporadically, as with his all-female

vocal group Vwapoulouéka... Still convinced that music is a means of liberating the spirit, he continues the journey of a young man eager to deploy the power of Creole music and language.

Bertrand Dicale

South Londons’ indomitable Medlar delivers an ambitious new album

The long-time underground favourite has collaborated with the likes of Dele Sosimi, Rebekah Reid, Deevoenay, Finn Peters, Sam Virdie, Afla Sackey and Arnau Obiols on an album that finds him taking his production to new levels.
From roots playing illegal raves in the South West to building up a cultured catalogue that bounces between house and garage, Medlar has long been part of the underground conversation. He has dropped a previous album and many innovative remixes and edits for the likes of Billy Cobham and Shirley Lites, worked in the studio and on stage with Afro legend Dele Sosimi and most recently released an album under his own name that collected myriad different sonic sketches from the past 15 years.

Islands is an altogether different proposition that comes after establishing himself as a mix engineer and producer of other people's music. In that time, Medlar has honed his skills, learnt new tricks and grown more able to express himself in sound. The result is an album that explores a more electronic palette inspired by '80s fusion sounds whilst maintaining a loose, organic flow through his use of live instrumentation. “The idea for the LP was for a collection of music which could sit alone as club tracks, but would work equally well as part of a whole. The name Islands came from this, as there's some connecting ideas but the tracks sit independently in their own little sonic worlds. I took a lot of inspiration from early 80’s electronic music produced during early years of MIDI technology… proto house, jazz fusion, electronic disco and experimental ambient. I wanted to juxtapose some of these methods with more contemporary production and make something that's ultimately quite fun!” says Medlar of the record which could easily soundtrack a summer road trip.

Across 11 tracks, he blends old-school techniques like a fusion of live instruments, FM synthesis and MIDI triggered vocal samples with more contemporary touches such as punchy, club-friendly drums and dub inspired, speaker-wobbling low end. The result is less reliant on samples than his previous works and makes for a perfect blend of retro authenticity and future freshness.

Googling “paradise house”, the first results to pop up are an endless list of European b&b’s with whitewashed lime façades, all of them promising “…an unmatched travel experience a few steps from the sea”. Next, a little further down, are the institutional websites of a few select semi-luxury retirement homes (no photos shown, but lots of stock images of smiling nurses with reassuring looks). To find the “paradise house” we’re after, we have to scroll even further down. Much further down.

It feels like yesterday, and at the same time it seems like a million years ago. The Eighties had just ended, and it was still unclear what to expect from the Nineties. Mobile phones that were not the size of a briefcase and did not cost as much as a car? A frightening economic crisis? The guitar-rock revival?! Certainly, the best place to observe that moment of transition was the dancefloor. Truly epochal transformations were happening there. From America, within a short distance one from the other, two revolutionary new musical styles had arrived: the first one sounded a bit like an “on a budget” version of the best Seventies disco-music – Philly sound made with a set of piano-bar keyboards! – the other was even more sparse, futuristic and extraterrestrial. It was a music with a quite distinct “physical” component, which at the same time, to be fully grasped, seemed to call for the knotty theories of certain French post-modern philosophers: Gilles Deleuze, Félix Guattari, Paul Virilio... Both those genres – we would learn shortly after – were born in the black communities of Chicago and Detroit, although listening to those vinyl 12” (often wrapped in generic white covers, and with little indication in the label) you could not easily guess whether behind them there was a black boy from somewhere in the Usa, or a girl from Berlin, or a pale kid from a Cornish coastal town.

Quickly, similar sounds began to show up from all corners of Europe. A thousand variations of the same intuition: leaner, less lean, happier, slightly less intoxicated, more broken, slower, faster, much faster... Boom! From the dancefloors – the London ones at least, whose chronicles we eagerly read every month in the pages of The Face and i-D – came tales of a new generation of clubbers who had completely stopped “dressing up” to go dancing; of hot tempered hooligans bursting into tears and hugging everyone under the strobe lights as the notes of Strings of Life rose up through the fumes of dry ice (certain “smiling” pills were also involved, sure). At this point, however, we must move on to Switzerland.

In Switzerland, in the quiet and diligent town of Lugano, between the 1980s and 1990s there was a club called “Morandi”. Its hot night was on Wednesdays, when the audience also came from Milan, Como, Varese and Zurich. Legend goes that, one night, none less than Prince and Sheila E were spotted hiding among the sofas, on a day-off of the Italian dates of the Nude Tour… The Wednesday resident and superstar was an Italian dj with an exotic name: Don Carlos. The soundtrack he devised was a mixture of Chicago, Detroit, the most progressive R&B and certain forgotten classics of old disco music: practically, what the Paradise Garage in New York might have sounded like had it not closed in 1987. In between, Don Carlos also managed to squeeze in some tracks he had worked on in his studio on Lago Maggiore. One in particular: a track that was rather slow compared to the BPM in fashion at the time, but which was a perfect bridge between house and R&B. The title was Alone: Don Carlos would explain years later that it had to be intended both in the English meaning of “by itself” and like the Italian word meaning “halo”. That wasn’t the only double entendre about the song, anyway. Its own very deep nature was, indeed, double. On the one hand, Alone was built around an angelic keyboard pattern and a romantic piano riff that took you straight to heaven; on the other, it showcased enough electronic squelches (plus a sax part that sounded like it had been dissolved by acid rain) to pigeonhole the tune into the “junk modernity” section, aka the hallmark of all the most innovative sounds of the time: music that sounded like it was hand-crafted from the scraps of glittering overground pop.

No one knows who was the first to call it “paradise house”, nor when it happened. Alternative definitions on the same topic one happened to hear included “ambient house”, “dream house”, “Mediterranean progressive”… but of course none were as good (and alluring) as “paradise house”. What is certain is that such inclination for sounds that were in equal measure angelic and neurotic, romantic and unaffective, quickly became the trademark of the second generation of Italian house. Music that seemed shyly equidistant from all the rhythmic and electronic revolutions that had happened up to that moment (“Music perfectly adept at going nowhere slowly” as noted by English journalist Craig McLean in a legendary field report for Blah Blah Blah magazine). Music that to a inattentive ear might have sounded as anonymous as a snapshot of a random group of passers-by at 10AM in the centre of any major city, but perfectly described the (slow) awakening in the real world after the universal love binge of the so-called Second Summer of Love.

For a brief but unforgettable season, in Italy “paradise house” was the official soundtrack of interminable weekends spent inside the car, darting from one club to another, cutting the peninsula from North to centre, from East to West coast in pursuit of the latest after-hours disco, trading kilometres per hour with beats per minute: practically, a new New Year’s Eve every Friday and Saturday night. This too was no small transformation, as well as a shock for an adult Italy that was encountering for the first time – thanks to its sons and daughters – the wild side of industrial modernity. The clubbers of the so-called “fuoriorario” scene were the balls gone mad in the pinball machine most feared by newspapers, magazines and TV pundits. What they did each and every weekend, apart from going crazy to the sound of the current white labels, was linking distant geographical points and non-places (thank you Marc Augé!) – old dance halls, farmhouses and business centres – transformed for one night into house music heaven. As Marco D’Eramo wrote in his 1995 essay on Chicago, Il maiale e il grattacielo: “Four-wheeled capitalism distorts our age-old image of the city, it allows the suburbs to be connected to each other, whereas before they were connected only by the centre (…) It makes possible a metropolitan area without a metropolis, without a city centre, without downtown. The periphery is no longer a periphery of any centre, but is self-centred”.

“Paradise house” perfectly understood all of this and turned it into a sort of cyber-blues that didn’t even need words, and unexpectedly brought back a drop of melancholic (post?)-humanity within a world that by then – as we would wholly realise in the decades to come – was fully inhuman and heartless. A world where we were all alone, and surrounded by a sinister yellowish halo, like a neon at the end of its life cycle. But, for one night at least, happy."

Written and recorded in singer-poet Karsyn Henderson, guitarist-banjoist Paul Lecours and percussionist Ryley Klima’s basement alongside bassist Chris Clegg, then mixed and mastered by longtime collaborator Noah Baxter, this self-produced introductory effort from the Montréal four-piece stylishly amalgamates elements from hardcore, punk, shoegaze, sludge, and folk.

Violence is a brazenly poetic homage to small town roots, a mashing of modern Western Canadian hardcore and folk. Extensive in scope, this debut full-length by Truck Violence takes the listener through wide-ranging dynamics, from solemn acoustic ballads to wrathful electric anthems. Deftly fractured rhythms and breakdowns, complex harmonic entanglements, emphatic screams of discontent, are met with hopeful, melodic tracks musing about the steady grip of a tight-knit community.

From somber, deceivingly happy banjo sequences to crashing noise and cries, Violence uses expression as a mirror, looking upon oneself with clarity, aiming to attain a sense of unadulterated truth of the matter. There is little modern music taking an honest look at the Western Canadian countryside, tackling themes such as addiction, abuse and dysfunction.

Truck Violence’s first album does just that, uniquely capturing this involuted setting through a wide lens to both contextualize and emphasize what it means to be overwhelmed, to feel shame, to struggle with self-destructive ways, to thrust oneself into art as an escape.

NEW LP PRESSING on Opaque Yellow Wax

Released in September 1978, a mere two months before YMO’s debut, Cochin Moon is a clear precursor to the groundbreaking synth and sequencer-dominated sounds that would come to define the iconic trio. Huge tip!

Credited to Hosono and Pop Art legend Tadanori Yokoo (who created the cover art), Cochin Moon is a fictional soundtrack to a journey into unknown worlds, inspired by Hosono and Yokoo’s trip to India.

The unbelievably prolific Haruomi Hosono is one of the major architects of modern Japanese pop music. With his encyclopedic knowledge of music and boundless curiosity for new sounds, Hosono is the auteur of his own idiosyncratic musical world, putting his unmistakable stamp on hundreds of recordings as an artist, session player, songwriter and producer. Born and raised in central Tokyo, his adolescent obsession with American pop culture informed his early forays into country music, which he would revisit later in his career. Hosono made his professional debut in 1969 as a member of Apryl Fool, whose heavy psychedelia was somewhat at odds with his influences, which leaned towards the rootsy sounds of Moby Grape and Buffalo Springfield. The latter was one of the main inspirations for his next group, Happy End, whose unique blend of West Coast sounds with Japanese lyrics proved to be highly influential over the course of three albums. After the band’s amicable break up in 1973, Hosono began his solo career with Hosono House, an intimate slice of Japanese Americana recorded inside a rented house with recording gear squeezed into its tiny bedroom. Hosono’s solo career would take many twists and turns from this point forward, with forays into exotica, electronic, ambient, and techno, culminating in the massive success of techno pop group Yellow Magic Orchestra (YMO).

Released in September 1978, a mere two months before YMO’s debut, Cochin Moon is a clear precursor to the groundbreaking synth and sequencer-dominated sounds that would come to define the iconic trio. Credited to Hosono and Pop Art legend Tadanori Yokoo (who created the cover art), Cochin Moon is a fictional soundtrack to a journey into unknown worlds, inspired by Hosono and Yokoo’s trip to India. Initially the album was to be a kind of ethnographic musical document, using found sounds and field recordings made by Hosono himself. Instead, after Yokoo introduced Hosono to the sounds of Kraftwerk and krautrock during the trip, Cochin Moon became something much stranger. Created almost entirely on synthesizers and sequencers with the help of future YMO collaborators Ryuichi Sakamoto and Hideki Matsutake, the music on the album is the perfect encapsulation of Hosono’s concept of “sightseeing music,” transporting the listener to an exotic place that may or may not exist. This highly sought-after album sees its first-ever official release outside of Japan.

Last May, Hard Times captivated us with The Lost D.A.T.S (Part One)—a remarkable collection of unreleased and freshly unearthed gems from the vaults of NYC legend DJ Romain. But the story didn’t end there. To our surprise and delight, Romain had delivered an even larger treasure trove of beats—too many to reveal all at once.

Now, Hard Times is proud to present the next chapter: DJ Romain – The Lost D.A.T.S (Part Two).

"1996-97? Yeah, that’s when New York was still NEW YORK!

That was around the time we really started to get hold of exotic herbs. Copper Haze, hydroponic! The vibes in the studio were always lovely. I had hair at the time! Dread-Locs down to my shoulders... I was still rockin’ the Wallabees, or British Walkers as we called them - representing for Brooklyn and my West Indian roots!

There was no social media, no supervision, nobody all up in our business… It was classic "mind your own business" NYC Vibes! I was DJing at a lot of the hot clubs and THE hottest afterhours in the city. There were nights when I saw Micheal Douglas roll into the afters with Grace Jones - they were there to party and unwind and I was there dropping the dope tracks for the people.

When it was studio time, with my homie Matt Echols...I was probably setting things off with some quality herbage, a big ass bag of Funyuns and my trusty SP-1200, lol. I had picked up some tips and tricks from Todd Terry and by '96-'97 I was a Shaolin with it myself! This was around the time tracks like "Flowers" and "Only Love Can Break Your Heart (Dub)" were tearing up the clubs. I wanted to be able to get my ideas out with no problem, and by then I had a lot of confidence...

Being able to Dj in some of the hottest NY hot spots at the time, I was able to really see what worked and what didn't on the dancefloor. The best House Dancers from around the world and around the Tri-State area would be at my jams. I'm talking Ejoe, Voodoo Ray, maybe kids from the Mop-Top Crew... I was definitely taking note of the kind of rhythms and sounds that would make them go crazy on the dancefloor!

And that's how we went about it - I laid down the rhythms that made it happen in my sets and translated the vibes I was picking up from NYC itself. Matt threw down musically and we were just being as creative and inventive as possible! But we always kept in mind that our job was to make the people on the dancefloor jump!

A lot of the jams from those days got signed to various record labels, we dropped a lot of them on our own label...and some of them ended up in the archives - until now!"

Studio, the influential project of Swedish musicians Dan Lissvik and Rasmus Hägg, presents their legendary 2006 debut in remastered form, in partnership with Ghostly International. Available in limited edition "Fog Machine Vinyl", CD, and cassette. "One of the finest pieces of electronic music you'll hear this year.” - The Guardian (2006). Included in year-end best-of write-ups by Pitchfork, FACT Magazine, and Rough Trade. Physical copies have long been out of print for West Coast, and the album has also been notably absent from most streaming services until now.

“Somehow, I knew I wanted to make a conceptual record that, although only imaginary at that point, could represent or define how our city sounded,” says Lissvik of Gothenburg's influence on West Coast. Some called Studio, the project of Swedish musicians Dan Lissvik and Rasmus Hägg, “the missing link between The Cure and Lindstrøm,” Pitchfork heard Durutti Column and Can, as the duo’s story became swept up in a loosely developing scene — adjacent first to the label Service (Jens Lekman, The Whitest Boy Alive) and later Sincerely Yours (The Tough Alliance, jj) — and a precursor to the 2010s boom at the axis of electronic and psychedelic music guided by indie greats like Caribou, Four Tet, and Darkside.

West Coast, their seminal 2006 debut, captured a faraway romanticism of Balearic brushed up against Krautrock, disco, dub, and afrobeat, with pop lyricism lifted from new wave, all made modern by two art school grads in Gothenburg. First pressed in a small vinyl-only run via their own Information label, the album has been notably absent from most streaming services, and the internet’s record of its initial impact is all but fossilized from a bygone blog era, while its sound is simply untraceable to any one moment in music.

Outside of three 7” releases, they’d keep the music to themselves for several more years. In 2005, Hägg remembers, “We got our degrees and were kicked out of our studio spaces so all these recordings were just piled up. A year later we dusted them off and started to deconstruct and assemble them in a more drawn-out fashion.” In the same breadth, they cite DJ Screw, J Dilla, and Joy Division, along with early ‘80s European live DJ sets from the likes of Beppe Loda, Dj Mozart, and Baldelli as reference points.

“The anything-goes mentality was very encouraging and was a big cornerstone to the Studio sound,” says Hägg. “But there’s so much more to the picture, we were not that young then and had lots of musical baggage in our suitcases, the new thing was that we finally let it all come through, not bound by any borders that was often the case with music identity in Sweden during the 90s.” In the afterglow of the record’s 2007 reception, Studio receded from view, clouded behind a mountain of remix requests (including one for Kylie Minogue that saw release) and label bureaucracy. “It’s easy to wish we would have done some proper recordings of our own instead,” Hägg reflects. But both artists, now well into respective careers beyond Studio, have come to peace with West Coast as their most enduring effort together. Lissvik adds, “It serves as a good reminder for me to keep to that decision and promise and to continue exploring and growing

After a ferocious start to 2020, which saw the band land a top 15 album chart position with their debut Mixtape EP, a #1 spot on the UK vinyl chart, #1 in the Scottish album charts, an appearance and sync in a UK-wide multimillion pound Strongbow ad campaign, FIFA21 soundtrack sync and over 30 million streams, The Snuts have announced their raucous, hook laden debut album, W.L. – out 2nd April on Parlophone Records.

The campaign has gone from strength to strength with the band amassing over 100,000 social followers and daytime support from Radio 1 as well as creating an incredible heartfelt video for single Somebody Loves You in partnership with The Scottish Refugee Council with the video’s production budget and all proceeds from downloads of the track going to the charity.

Adored up and down the country for their uninhibited, sweat-drenched live shows, the band have also announced a UK tour for the end of 2021 – totalling over 30,000 tickets including 3 sold out nights at the legendary Barrowland Ballroom in Glasgow with tickets selling out for that and multiple other dates on the tour in minutes.

Hailing from Whitburn, West Lothian, The Snuts have well and truly found their stride on W.L.. Produced by Tony Hoffer (Beck, Phoenix, M83) and recorded at the Firepit London, the album encapsulates the band’s journey from four working class kids growing up with a dream in Whitburn, to becoming one of the UK’s most exciting and vital bands of the new decade. The album opens with the poignant ‘Top Deck’, winding through a voyage of genres including the raw, rousing, hip-hop driven ‘Elephants, heart-wrenchingly honest ‘Boardwalk’, the undeniable pop banger ‘Somebody Loves You’, the hauntingly heartfelt anthem ‘Always’ and the main stage festival ready hymn, ‘All Your Friends’.

Soul Brother Records present two rare Scepter/Wand disco classics on one limited edition 12” single for Record Store Day Bobby Moore was a singer, musician and bandleader from New Orleans. He worked as a writer and arranger from the 1960s to 1980s, “(Call Me Your) Anything Man” one of only a handful of solo 7” single releases. The 12” version has never been commercially released before, it’s prior existence in this format has only been on acetate. Legend has it that the one acetate was cut at the time because when Tom Moulton mastered the record in 1975, the studio had run out of 7” parts so made it a 12”. The quality sounded so good the 12” single was born!
Sweet Music were the vocal trio who sang background vocals with KC & The Sunshine Band. This is one of the few records ever remixed by West End legend Mel Cheren.

DJ support from Husky, Hector Romero, Javi Bora,Grace Bones, Judge Jules, Sebb Junior, Jay Vegas,Odyssey Inc, ATFC, Claptone, Black Legend, CevinFisher, Michael Gray, Kisch, Hoxton Whores, FullIntention, Booker T, Jamie Jones, Knights Of TheTurntable, Sam Divine, DJ Rae, CASSIMM, Alex Preston

We’ve got a very special vinyl release for you; a brand-new rework of the 1982 classic ‘Do It To The Music’ by New York Dance group, Raw Silk being refreshed for 2024 by legendary UK DJ and producer, Michael Gray. Perfectly in-keeping with the Fool’s Paradise brand and ethos we have built over the past year, West End Records was a label close to our hearts having been one of the most influential dance labels of the past forty years and went on to define the sound of New York City during the heyday of Disco and the ever-popular, Studio 54. With the original reaching #5 in the US Billboard Dance Chart and #18 in the UK SinglesChart, such a classic West End Records record could only be revisited by one of the very best, and who better than Michael Gray to refresh this dance floor gem! Michael’s reworks pays true homage to the original adding his signature flair and groovy, funk-leaden sound. Featuring an exclusive reprise mix which is only available on the vinyl package!

Radio support on BBC Radio 2, BBC Radio 6 Music,BBC Radio Cornwall, Hedkandi, Kiss FM, Mi-Soul,Gaydio, Radio 105 / Montecarlo (Italy), Mambo Radio,Rinse fm, Select Radio, Totally Wired Radio, PointBlank, RTE, Power fm (Ireland), Metro FM (SA), CoolFm, Radio Reverb, Radio FG (France), Release Radioand many more.

Acquit Records are setting out on an ambitious one, presenting their latest foray into vinyl releasing with this incredible new LP from Arbilla. Both label and artist move incredibly low-key, but unearthing the info was worth it. Arbilla aka. Phil Robertson and his own adjacent imprint, Xistence Records, follows up prior greats such as the 'Movement' EP with this full-length, which takes after Detroit techno and catapults it to ever further cosmic reaches. Zooming out to the macro-point of galaxy filaments and Bootes Voids, we begin with the brukky opus '3500 Miles Away From Detroit' before seguing into the percussive workouts of 'Brighter Swallow' and 'Mecca'. A real sense of expanse is given off from the otherwise raw and up-close analogue sound; the cosmos is, of course, airtight.

RARE & PREV. UNRELEASED PSYCH-FUNK AND GARAGE ROCK !!!

Say hello to Down & Wired Vol. 7 as Perfect Toy Records unleashes yet another instalment in its long-running compilation series! Once more, the label provides a delectable selection of obscure funk and soul-influenced psychedelic and garage rock tracks to delight even hardcore collectors of both genres.

And make no mistake, there is plenty to discover among these eleven tracks. At the funkiest end of things, Function's Free Style morphs from West Coast psychedelia to country funk to swamp rock and back again in its sub-three minute length, Dandy King provide psychedelic funky-soul and The Whiz Kids take a heavy dose of funkiness with them into psych-rock territory – sample fiends watch out for the fat twenty-second drum break towards the end of the latter! Purer psychedelia can be found in the offering from Third Stone while Würzburg band Prisma provide all-out epic psych-rock carnage. And if rock carnage is your thing, you'll be feeling the dirty garage rock onslaught of The Comin' Generation and a previously unreleased cut by Synod - soon to be a 45 single on Perfect Toy. That just leaves The General Store, The Soul Society, The Vestells and another unreleased cut from The Villagers (from whom the label will be dropping more unreleased material soon!), to close the circle by adding a heavy dose of garage soul.

A worthy successor to the previous volumes, Down & Wired Vol. 7 is once again accompanied by an insert containing detailed information and photos of the bands and a download code is also included with every vinyl LP.

Highly original material on a very limited EP... be quick!

POLYPHONIC WAVES OF SOULFUL MADRIGALS

The power of duality is an inscrutable thing: we’re endlessly fascinated by the interplay between light and darkness, East and West, voice and silence, our senses tingling from the compelling synergies that thrive in perceived opposites. Drawing from an urbane Antwerpian upbringing and a Moroccan family lineage, the Brussels-based multidisciplinary artist Younes Zarhoni, embraces these very dualities in all of his projects, exploring those murky areas of contrast and bringing all their ambiguous energy to crystal clear focus.

A longtime staple of the local electronic music scene with his hypnotic techno outings as YZ, Zarhoni’s latest focus is on the compositional power of pure harmony and silence: namely, his polyphonic renditions of medieval mystical poetry, sung in multiple voices and left to solemnly radiate beyond their given spatial grounds. Stripped of all instrumental accompaniments, what you get is Gregorian chant meets Boyz 2 Men, articulated by the lyrical ineffability of Arabic tongues and finding their rhythm in the silences that act as the juncture between observation and anticipation.

These sparse stanzas tread under an elusive referential threshold, conjuring visions of architecture and archaism, madrigals and MTV, the sacred and the profane ~ ostensibly disparate elements that seamlessly fold themselves into the radicality of the compositions. In these 20 minutes of verse, Zarhoni oversteps the margins of categorization to deliver an immersive story of song, flowing freely and sustaining the arc of the narrative long after it has ebbed into silence.

Anonymous British funk studio outfit Ultrafunk was spearheaded by Blues & Soul magazine proprietor John Abbey, who ran a fashionable record shop and label called Contempo in London’s West End during the 1970s; he conceived of the group as the UK counterpart to US studio bands like Mfsb. Arranger Gerry Shury, who had worked with Barry White and Maurice Gibb of the Bee Gees, drafted guitarist Chris Rae and bassist Frank McDonald (who often composed library music together) and future Rubettes drummer John Richardson to form the group, in situ. A lack of band photos, suggestive song titles and a predilection for American cover tunes led many to believe the band was US-based. Their self-titled debut LP is where the myth all begins, with a number of truly atmospheric and cinematic hard funk instrumentals, given added textural depth through full orchestration, including covers of Bill Withers’ “Use Me” and Stevie Wonder’s “Living In The City.” Though not quite as compelling as the better-known follow-up set, Meat Heat, there is still plenty to savour on Ultrafunk, making this debut companion disc a must-have for all true funk aficionados.

‘Danse Cette Zik!’ by Parbleu is the debut LP from this enigmatic group of musicians and is a multi-cultural fever dream, wherein energized expanses of dynamic disco, futuristic funk, and cinematic jazz fusion are colored over by warming vibes of Caribbean dub, Latin tropicalia, and sunshine Afrobeat. Evocative instrumentals intertwine with breathtaking vocal performances, which move between sleepy-eyed soul serenades, mystical melodic chants, and expressive diva enchantments while pads swell in support—sometimes sparkling like ocean glass, other times raining down like a Morricone symphony.

Pianos and guitars converse via funk flourishes, reggae riffs, and jazz rock solos as blazing fusion synthesizers set the air aflame. Drums move between kinetic dancefloor urgency and islander rhythm relaxation and hand percussions both organic and electronic evoke rainforest ceremonials while basslines revel in 70s fusion fire and Italo synth-funk squelch. And the entire experience has been expertly captured and magically crafted by the sorcerers of sound at the West Hill Studio, resulting in a thrilling adventure of imagined exotica, one equally adept at scoring coastal paradises, filmic deserts, riviera cruises, or nightclubs sweltering in the light of a mediterranean moon.

(Words by Octagon Eyes)

Ever since he made his first trip to Japan to DJ, Optimo Music founder JD Twitch has been bewitched by Japanese music, and particularly the vibrant, imaginative, and often far-sighted sounds which emerged from the island nation during the 1980s. Now he’s put years of digging in Japanese record shops to good use on Polyphonic Cosmos, the latest release on his compilation-focused Cease & Desist imprint.

Subtitled ‘A Beginners Guide to Japan In The ‘80s’, the collection offers a personal selection of Japanese gems recorded and released between 1981 and ’86 – a period when advances in recording and musical technology offered the nation’s artists and producers a whole new tool kit to employ. When combined with the unique musical culture of Japan, where local traditions are frequently fused with Western styles to create timeless, off-kilter aural fusions, this embrace of locally pioneered music technology had spectacular, often unusual results.

Eight years in the making, Polyphonic Cosmos provides an endlessly entertaining musical snapshot of Japanese music of the early-to-mid ‘80s with all of the open-minded eclecticism and sonic twists that you would expect from the Glasgow-based DJ.

Compare and contrast, for example, the gently breezy, morning-fresh folk-plus-electronics bliss of ‘ばら二曲 Baranikyoku (Fellini&Rota)’ by World Standard – the most familiar alias of long-serving musician/producer Sohichiro Suzuki – and the hallucinatory, slow-motion tribal rhythms, post-punk rhythms and tape delay-laden electronics of Imitation’s ‘Exotic Dance’. Or, for that matter, the tipsy mid-‘80s electronic reggae of Pecker’s ‘Sha La La’, the grungy but melodic post-punk strut of ‘You Go On Natural’ by Earthling (a track Twitch accurately describes as “sheer unrelenting groove”), and the unearthly, swirling sonics, new age instrumentation and flotation tank vocals of prolific (and seemingly mysterious) act Geinoh Yamashirogumi’s ‘Rimme Kohkyogaku Meiki’.

It’s a credit to JD Twitch’s curatorial skills that the quality never dips, and sonic surprises lurk around every corner. Consider for a moment the hard to describe, far-sighted audio immersion of D-Day’s ‘Ki-Ra’ – all languid post-pop guitar, enveloping chords, spoken word vocals, shuffling 808 beats and marimba melodies – and the two contributions from video games soundtrack specialist (and driving instrumental synth-pop specialist) Hiroyuki Namba.

The collection naturally includes some selections that have long been favourites in Twitch’s DJ sets – see Masumi Hara’s ‘Your Dream’ – as well as a handful of tracks from artists who may be more recognisable to those with only rudimentary knowledge of Japanese musical culture. The great Yasuaki Shimizu, whose work as Mariah has become far better known in recent years thanks to reissues of some of his most magical albums, is represented via ‘The Crow’, a picturesque chunk of horizontal, hard-to-define jazz-not-jazz smokiness, while the collection fittingly concludes with a sublimely funky, oddball electronic workout from Yellow Magic Orchestra legend Ryuichi Sakamoto (the frankly incredible ‘Wongga Dance Song’).

Matt Anniss

Pleasure Planet's kaleidoscopic debut album has been a long
time coming, but good things come to those who wait.
Developed over years of late-night studio improvisations,
'Pleasure Planet' is an affectionate and colorful patchwork of
the New York City-based trio's knotted in§uences that's
suspended between the rave and the chill-out room, weaving
glistening pads and chunky basslines into vocal earworms
and warm, saturated rhythmic cycles. Bandmates Andrew
Potter, Kim Ann Foxman and Brian Hersey enter into a
lysergic dialog with their discrete personal musical histories,
drawing inspiration from vintage EBM, ambient music and
heady early '90s West Coast rave sounds and launching
these classic elements into a transcendent new sonic
universe.