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"The letter X marks the spot, crosses over, literally with a cross. It’s the former, the ex-. The ex-lover known simply as “an ex”. Ex- is the latin prefix meaning “out”. Exterior, an exit. Extraordinary. Excellent. It’s exciting. Generation X. X-files. X is the unknown. X is Extreme“

Extreme is Molly Nilsson’s tenth studio album. Recorded in 2019 and throughout the 2020 global pandemic at home in Berlin, Extreme is a departure for Nilsson, an explosion of angry love. It’s an album of anthems for the jilted generation, soaked with joy and offering solace, bristling with distorted, Metal guitars and planet-sized choruses that bring light to the dark centre of the galaxy. It’s an album of the times, by the times and for the people. It’s a record about power. About how to fight it, how to take it and how to share it.

Absolute Power explodes with massive guitars, double kick beats and the instantly iconic line “It’s me versus the black hole at the centre of the galaxy.” Nilsson’s performance itself portrays absolute power in its confidence but the song is a call-to-arms, an entreaty to grasp the here and now, to take the power back. It’s Nilsson pacing the ring and we’re instantly in her corner. Earth Girls takes familiar Molly Nilsson themes - female empowerment and subverting the patriarchy - but casually throws in one of the choruses of her career. “Women have no place in this world” she sings, but it’s the world that isn’t good enough. Stadium-sized but still warmly hazy, Earth Girls has its fists in the air, glorifying in harmony, almost ecstatic in its feeling good. Nilsson’s Springsteen-level conviction and righteousness bleeds through the speaker cones, the cognitive dissonance between the song’s cadences and angry lyrics redolent of Bruce in his prime. Female empowerment isn’t always an angry energy on Extreme, however. On Fearless Like A Child, Nilsson’s anthem to the female body and women’s sovereignty of it, she croons over a mid-80s blue-eyed Soul groove. It sets a nocturnal scene as the narrator surveys her past and her surroundings. Before we’re fully submerged in a dreamlike, Steve McQueen-era Prefab Sprout poem to learning from your mistakes the song erupts into one of those lines only Molly Nilsson can get away with: “I love my womb, come inside I feel so alive” she fervently sings. Against the backdrop of ever-encroaching, conservative rulings on women’s reproductive rights in places like Texas, it’s simultaneously angry and full of love.

Every song on Extreme is a gleaming gem in a pouch of jewels. On Kids Today, Nilsson is the voice of wisdom, archly commenting on the eternal struggle between youth and authority. Wisdom infuses Sweet Smell Of Success with a transcendent love that forgives the narrator’s shortcomings and celebrates the moment, it’s a letter to the author from the author that asks “what is success” and concludes that this is it, this song, this moment. It’s a rare moment of simple reflection that is generous in its insight to Nilsson’s inner life. “Success” is a tool of power and we don’t need it… We need power tools and there are moments on Extreme where it feels like Nilsson is showing us how to find them. It's an open conversation through out Extreme. She’s a warm, comforting presence through out the album and specially on these songs of encouragement, songs perhaps sang to a younger Molly Nilsson or, really, to whomever needs to hear them. “They’ll praise your efforts, they’ll call you slurs a rebel, a master, an amateur / Merely with your own existence, you already offer your resistance.” On Avoid Heaven she’s even more direct, pleading with us to avoid concepts of purity and to embrace the glorious, ebullient, emotional mess we’re often in as a method of upending the power structures who need things to be perfect.

They Will Pay brings back the big, distorted power chords in the form of a agit-punk, pop slammer. Of course, when Molly Nilsson does punk pop we get the catchiest chorus this side of The Bangles or The Nerves. It’s rendered in an off the cuff, throwaway manner that is just perfect in its roughness. However, it’s on Pompeii that Nilsson delivers the album’s epic, emotional heartbreaker. Like 1995 on Nilsson’s album Zenith, or Days Of Dust on Twenty Twenty, the lyrics of Pompeii are heavy with a transcendent sadness, an aching poetry that cuts to the truth of the heart like the best Leonard Cohen lines, though here delivered with an uplifting, life-affirming love. It contains the most personal moments of Extreme, a song lit by the dying embers of romance. Yet it’s here where the alchemy at the base of all Nilsson’s best work is found. Turning small nuggets of personal truth into big, generous universal moments that invite everyone to cry, to love and to fight the power. In an album of jewels, it might be the shining star.

Molly Nilsson’s biggest, boldest and most vital album to date, Extreme is about power. Against the love of power and for the power of love.

BBE Music presents the first ever reissue of ‘Classifieds’, an ultra-rare, privately pressed 1985 album by Moonshine aka Monica Rypma & Friends. A naive and charming dose of dreamy DIY synth-pop interspersed with off-kilter, ambient interludes, original copies of ‘Classifieds’ are now almost impossible to dig up, but lately, thanks to the internet, the album has earned a cult following from music obsessives all over the globe. Created by aspiring songwriter and recent music-school dropout Monica Rypma, incredibly the album’s recording and production was entirely financed from sponsorship and advertising, way back in 1985. Inspired by René Van Helsdingen, the Amsterdam based composer, pianist and crowd-funding pioneer, Monica decided to sell advertising space on the album sleeve and name the album 'Classifieds', designing the cover to mimic a newspaper’s small ads layout. Written and recorded in only 5 days with René Van Helsdingen collaborator, synth wizard and multi-instrumentalist Brian Batie producing, the album was engineered by Wil Hesen at Studio Farmsound in Heelsum. With Rypma assisting, Batie composed and arranged almost all of the music on the spot, and lyrics were dreamed up by Batie, Rypma and Brian’s friend Jenny Garner. With an album full of music she could be proud of, Monica called in help from friends and family to print, fold and assemble the albums. “The original cover sleeve had three coloured bands; yellow, green or pink” says Rypma. “These were not different pressings, as most people presumed, but came from the limited budget that was left for printing. As one ink ran out, another colour was used, and this method produced the three versions.” Once copies had been distributed to the record’s advertisers and sponsors, hardly any were left. Until now, that is!

Dove Award-nominated band We Are Messengers, who has amassed over
187 million on-demand streams and played to over 2 million people
worldwide, is back with the brand-new album, 'Wholehearted', which
features current radio single "Come What May
" Lead singer Darren Mulligan shares, "Like most artists, our world kinda fell apart
when touring got shut down. So we did what every good songwriter should do, we
catalogued every feeing imaginable and tried to make sense of a strange new
world. We danced in the darkness, wrestled with doubt, reconnected with God in a
really authentic way, and found the beauty in the forced simplicity of our lives. We
gave ourselves fully to the process of telling the truth again and not caring about
what the world thought of us. This album captures the heart of a follower of
Jesus in one of the most wonderful and horrific times we have faced in modern
history. We went all in, held nothing back. This one is 'Wholehearted'."

"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.

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

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

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

Having initially met more than a decade ago at a local community radio station, sometimes doing guest slots on each other’s live, improvised noise shows, Cormac Culkeen and Dave Grenon knew they had a mutual interest in working with sonic textures. They listened to each other’s bands for a handful of years, and in 2017, “made good on a threat” that they’d been making for quite a long time: to start a band. At Cormac’s gentle but clear urging—declaring that they’d gone ahead and booked a space in which to record a video—the two wrote their first song, “Sebaldus,” an ambitious 12-minute trip, which also serves as the fireworks finale to their self-titled debut album. With surges of pathos that smooth out into something more soothing in turn, Cormac goes: “The hunter, you’ve seen him / The archer, his arrows are strong / And hunger, you’ve known her / I know the winter is long.” The track is as much about enduring a Canadian winter as it is about the eponymous 8th century hermit, shot through with sublimated desire. As Cormac put it, Joyful Joyful’s songs are “a little bit outside of time.” But while the lyrics beg close, oblique reading unto themselves, there’s also a distinct sense that they’re only one of many more ways that the duo shapes sound. Cormac, whose voice is like a sea with irregular tides, lights up about an idea in traditional sean-nós Irish music that songs already exist and are out there; it’s up to the singer to become the conduit. This belief in music as something to be channelled, and something more than sound, resonates with the singer’s fundamentalist religious past. To paraphrase: lots of group singing, harmonies, no instrumentation, totally unmediated, no priest, congregational—not choral, not a performance, not about talent, the spirit moves through people. “Of course that informs how I think about singing,” Cormac says. So, when they were exiled from the church because of their queerness, they took the music with them, dislocating it from its dogmatic bounds but not from its transcendent potential. This record might be thought of, then, as a kind of queering of sacred, devotional traditions—or at the very least, a space where all of these things can be held at once. Perhaps perceivable by some as contradictions, these intersecting influences create the conditions for an incredibly singular sound. Dave is steady and exploratory in his handling of this multiplicity, arranging sounds as they’re revealed, corralling them, coaxing them into form. “Because Dave is there,” Cormac says, “I get to sing three times higher, and three times lower, and faster, and backwards, and all of these sounds! That are there. They’re all there.” When asked about early musical memories, Cormac recalled an immediate fascination with harmony: from demanding that the first person they ever heard singing it explain what they were doing, to always (still, to this day) singing in harmony with their twin sister around the house, to being part of a children’s choir that sang soprano in Handel’s Messiah—not realizing until they entered the room with all the other ranges that their learned melody was but one part of the whole. Just as tellingly, Dave reflects on his early attraction to “abstraction and becoming abstract,” describing childhood afternoons messing with microphone and speaker feedback loops, producing long, enduring sounds with almost undetectable variations. In a way unique to the coalescing of these two listeners, notions of harmony are central to their output. Dave samples field recordings, old keyboards and synths, and vocal drones, running the live singing through four or five parallel effects chains, sampling and treating everything again in the moment. “Another way to put it is that Cormac’s voice comes into the board and then comes back out shifted, delayed, and shattered; Cormac and I hear it, live with it, and respond,” Dave says. This work is contingent not only on a deep intuition (neither of them read sheet music) of polyphony and due proportion (something St Thomas Aquinas famously listed as an attribute of beauty) but also on their connection to each other and ability to read subtle cues. Dave says they’d hold each other’s hands while performing if it was more convenient to do so, riffing on something else Cormac mentioned about traditional Irish singing: that someone would always hold the singer’s hand, for fear that without a tether to the ground they might find themselves utterly lost, unsure how to return. Joyful Joyful doesn’t shy away from offering such experiences of departure; they’re willing to unsettle their audiences because they themselves are unsettled. Their shared penchant for spooky, heavy music, and self-described “omnivorous” listening practices equip them with an array of sonic concepts that support this effort; Diamanda Galás, The Rankin Family, Pan Sonic, Pauline Oliveros, Keith Fullerton Whitman, Yma Sumac, and Catholic hymnody were just a few that came up. Observing their audience gives them insight about the effect of each song—something they considered while arranging the album. Its arc is marked by soft, sometimes sudden oscillations between cacophony and euphony, day and night (listen for insects), and from sexual, visceral entanglements to more ephemeral, celestial ones. Front to back, it arouses expansion, unraveling. Of lightning, Vicki Kirby writes: “quite curious initiation rites precede these electrical encounters. An intriguing communication, a sort of stuttering chatter between the ground and the sky, appears to anticipate the actual stroke.” By all accounts, something similar seems to happen at Joyful Joyful shows, between those on the stage and those off it, between what’s earthly and what’s beyond. “A lightning bolt is not a straightforward resolution of the buildup of a charge difference between the earth and a cloud … there is, as it were, some kind of nonlocal communication effected between the two,” writes Karen Barad, extrapolating on Kirby’s thought. Cormac acknowledges that while they and Dave play a role in this mysterious charge that comes about, they’re not solely responsible. However ineffable it may be, it’s undoubtedly a form of communion—and a sensuously shocking one at that

Following on from the success of 2018’s epic triple album The Saving Of Cadan, Cornwall’s space/psych/folk-rock/post-punk cross-pollinators HANTERHIR are back with a new studio album. After more than a decade, …Cadan finally found the band breaking out of their Redruth bolthole, playing a major headline show at London’s Kernow In The City festival in March 2020, just before lockdown. As with many others, this enforced break from gigging encouraged the band to get creative and the new album was soon progressing…Its Cornish title Nyns Eus Denvydth Bys Trest roughly translates as ‘There is no-one to trust’ – “Writing and recording the album was done over the backdrop of Brexit, a falling apart relationship and then Covid lockdowns,” explains singer, guitarist, and songwriter Ben Harris. “With all the wacky things that have come out of people’s mouths over the past few years I think the title pretty much sums everything up.” A massive labour of love for Ben, …Cadan was a sprawling concept based on Cornish legend, which required him to write within a theme. The creation of this album has therefore been a breath of fresh air, a more organic experience allowing him to write from a more personal and immediate perspective. Displaying elements of Hawkwind’s sturm und drang spacerock and Psychedelic Furs’ sax-driven post-punk squall, opener ‘Always On’ finds the septet celebrating themselves: “We play so many gigs with so many other bands and one thing that strikes me about us is that we're always ready, we don't spend hours soundchecking, just point us in the direction of a stage and we'll play there. “‘Honeybees’ is us singing to the people that it's possibly time to stop voting for the same political parties and following the same failed systems,” he continues. “As far as I can see nothing's got better over the past year, or ten years or whatever, things just get slowly worse and people accept it. ”The song ‘Yeah’, which fuses Steeleye Span folk-rock melody and Sonic Youth chaos with spiralling psych guitar, has backing vocals which translate as “I am the same as you”, which Ben thinks is very important: “We're all the same and no-one is more important that anyone else”. Recorded at MHRCC, The Chapel and VIP Lounge by Peasy and Dare Mason; produced by Peasy and mastered by Anders Petersen at Ghost Sounds, Stockholm.

**180g heavyweight vinyl** Les Racines is the latest solo album from the eminent guitarist and songwriter Vieux Farka Touré, and his first for World Circuit Records. Known as the ‘Hendrix of the Sahara’, Vieux has released 4 critically acclaimed solo albums to date, extending the boundaries of traditional West African music into new and uncharted territory. He has also released audacious collaborations with the likes of Dave Matthews and jazz guitarist John Scofield, and albums with American singer-songwriter Julia Easterlin and Israeli singer-songwriter Idan Raichel. With Les Racines, which translates as ‘the roots’, Vieux documents a deep reconnection with the traditional Songhai music of northern Mali which is one of the traditions that has come to be known in the West as ‘Desert Blues’. Vieux’s roots run deeper than deep – he is the son of Ali Farka Touré, widely acclaimed as the finest guitarist Africa has ever produced. Recorded in Bamako in Vieux’s home studio, the timeless grooves of the album are steeped in the traditional music of West Africa. But the fire of Vieux’s guitar playing and the urgency of the messages in his songs add an entirely contemporary relevance. “We are nothing if we abandon respect for the past,” Vieux says. The resulting album, the most profound statement of his career to date, marks out Vieux as the great Ali Farka Touré’s rightful heir and a major artist in his own right. “Early in my career people asked why I wasn’t just following my father. But it was important for me to establish my own identity,” Vieux says. “Now people know what I can do, I can return to those roots with pride and I hope a certain authority.”

On textstar+ Jan Jelinek brings together the material from the CMYK series, four EPs he released between 1999 and 2002 under the pseudonym farben (the German word for both colours and paints), on a vinyl double LP for the first time. The selection of tracks has been remastered from the original tapes, joined by two additional pieces that appeared on compilations during the same period.

A Polaroid. Still life with tangled leads and consumer electronics, late twentieth century. Black and various shades of dirty white are the dominant non-colours. The image’s spatial depth remains diffuse, the links between its elements speculative. A note stuck to the wall (a legend, perhaps, or an all-explaining blueprint in text form?) is impossible to decipher. You can’t see what connects the picture’s signs. You have to hear it.

farben says: Every sound is a text. A bearer of meaning in search of a reader. Hoping the ideas inscribed in its autonomous existence will be understood as intended. While its beauty lies precisely in misunderstanding, in reading the coded message a new way every time. A thousand colours of sound, a thousand different ways to hear, to see, to understand.

On textstar+ Jan Jelinek brings together the material from the CMYK series, four EPs he released between 1999 and 2002 under the pseudonym farben (the German word for both colours and paints), on a vinyl double LP for the first time. The selection of tracks has been remastered from the original tapes, joined by two additional pieces that appeared on compilations during the same period. Another new element is the Polaroid, showing the origins of a world: Jelinek’s home studio in Berlin at the time.

farben says: Move your body! The project has its roots in Jelinek’s love of house as a reductionist vision of soul. Of four to the floor as a proposition that can be accessed anywhere. Of electronic dance music as a realm of possibility that can be continually expanded. farben was written as contemporary house music. As a text about excitement and euphoria. The arrangements were made directly while recording to DAT, on a twelve-channel mixing desk. Several track titles suggest a link to live concerts, coupled with the context of machine music and bedroom recording. Others affirm pop music’s most extravagant stock phrases about various states of love.

Jelinek produced the tracks with the aim of making music for dancefloors. An idea that failed very productively. In the locations to which it was originally addressed, the project barely figured. But people did listen, and they listened all the more closely to this music that opened up new acoustic and associative scope for house. farben is the opposite of genre: a music spawning new terms (clicks & cuts, micro-house) that never manage to fully capture it.

farben says: Signifiers. The four CMYK EPs are designed as a network of references that cannot be missed but that can also never be precisely deciphered. The vectors of sound, word and image point to Isaac Hayes and Ornette Coleman, to Detroit and the first generation of the Red Army Faction, to Karl Marx and Friedrich Engels. So multifarious that they are distorted to the point of recognition. Overall we hear sonic docufictions whose appealing vagueness derives precisely from this oscillation between clarity and ambiguity, which is also the source of their poetry: the lyricism of the pure circulation of signs.

The artwork is based on photographs of former Red Army Faction members, broken down into the four colours of the CMYK model. The motifs dissolve into individual dots of a single colour, so close to the faces that their expressions are only hinted at. Taken together, the individual colours compose a new whole out of fragmentary material, defying definition and thus maintaining their vibrancy. The same occurs on the level of sound. The sampler Jelinek used for these tracks had to be fed with floppy disks, imposing a memory limit of 1.44 megabytes per audio quotation from soul or jazz records. As a necessary consequence of this, the individual references, like the dots of colour, are dissolved into details and abstractions. They appear as splinters that recombine in new ways to create new meanings. The joy of collapsing metaphors.

farben says: New departures. Even two decades after its original release, textstar+ does not come across as an epitaph to the modern era. Instead, it appears as a euphoric affirmation of the utopias of the twentieth century, translated into new sound texts via the aesthetic strategies of abstraction, collage, networking and speculation. 1.44 megabytes of history, one thousand signifiers, one album. From “Live ...” to “... Love”.

Arno Raffeiner, 2021

A question popular among followers of Thrash Metal is undeniably this, “Which is considered the fastest Thrash Metal album of all time?”. There would be a high percentage of answers supporting “Reign In Blood”, Darkness Descends” or “Pleasure To Kill”. Now here’s a startling reality. Wehrmacht’s debut album makes those albums sound as if they were meant to be listed under progressive Metal. The sheer ferocity of these guys is enough to convince you why they were considered the fastest Heavy Metal band in the underground. So what is it that makes this record worthy of being called an underground classic? Right from production to musicianship, the concoction of several different ideas results into one colossal and inevitably unique style of their own. Many of you would probably wonder that there might just be a natural leaning towards sloppy playing especially considering my description of their astoundingly fast nature earlier. But the major surprise here is that all the musicians are extremely tight and precise with no single riff, solo or beat falling out of place. Tito Matos is one of the most versatile Thrash singers one has ever heard till date. His clarity of words and ability to keep up with the rest of the band with his lightning fast singing is simply commendable. The songs in here are all ridiculously speedy pieces of Thrash Metal with practically little or no remorse for the listener. The title track with that brilliant rendition of the famously eerie “Jaws” theme kicks off the onslaught with a tearing main riff that shreds away with speed and precision. Teutonic, Bay Area and a few east coast Thrash Metal bands have been instrumental in forging the whole genre altogether but taking the intensity a couple of notches higher was undoubtedly achieved by bands like Cryptic Slaughter, Soothsayer and finally Wehrmacht. For a year that was 1987, “Shark Attack” was way ahead of its time and has been highly regarded as the release that influenced many a band in the Grindcore and Black Metal genres. To testify this statement of mine, U.K Grindcore pioneers Napalm Death have covered Wehrmacht on one of their studio compilations, thus proving the exemplary effect this band had in the years to come. Yet the irony still stands out as to why only the most devoted of Thrash Metal/Crossover freaks know about this band. As for some of you guys, quit wasting your time listening to the senseless offshoots of Grindcore and shitty Black Metal and get a hold of this classic instead.

Inspiration can strike anyone at any time, and more often than not from somewhat peculiar quarters. Rarely more so than when Sam Grant - thus far best known as guitarist and producer of Pigs Pigs Pigs Pigs Pigs Pigs Pigs - finally set about work on a solo project that had been pursuing him for some years. “I want people to imagine that feeling of rubber - its physical memory, the unnatural vibe of it. It’s so tactile but alien. It’s an odd analogy, but that’s what this music is for me.”A specific gravity is one more property that rubber has going for it, and that much is certainly true of Rubber Oh’s debut album ‘Strange Craft’, the result of his elasticated fixation, and his debut album of deliriously tuneful sci-fi tinged psychpop. It’s a unique soundworld in which an emphasis on beguiling melody marries a kaleidoscopic grandeur. Widescreen gems like the warped interstellar voyage that is Children Of Alchemy and the unshakeable earworm Hyperdrive Fantasyare all vibrant colour and celestial energy, setting their psychic stall out somewhere between the incandescent headspace of a ‘70s sci-fi TV show and the red-light-fever of the overheated ampstacks Grant has been historically more familiar with.Ultimately, for Grant as well as everyone else, Rubber Oh amounts to one strange trip - “Many of the lyrics are about alchemy, journeying and vessels, as interchangeable metaphors for knowledge and wisdom” he says. “I wanted to mesh the land and sea, the cosmos and the psyche across the tracks as one single plane” Mission accomplished, in short. This Strange Craft is fuelled up and ready to accept all comers on a ride into extensions through dimensions01

Over the course of eight studio albums, Mary Gauthier has firmly planted herself as a truth teller, a songwriter unafraid to dive into the emotional core of her chosen subject. Her poignant songs move people deeply and often evoke an emotive response. It is one of the many things that connect her so deeply to her fans, and why they love her. On Dark Enough To See The Stars, she mourns the loss of dear friends that include John Prine, Nancy Griffith and David Olney, but Gauthier takes a slightly different course by offering an optimistic side of herself with songs that celebrate the joy of new love and personal contentment. With The Band-inspired opening track “Fall Apart World”, the tender and thoughtful “About Time” and the eternally grateful “Thank God For You”, it’s evident that with Gauthier’s life experience she takes nothing for granted. She also looks at love from a different perspective in remembrance of her departed colleagues and mentors with songs such as “How Could You Be Gone” and “’Til I See You Again”. The title track, co-written with Beth Nielsen Chapman, is a realization that through loss and darkness there can be a beautiful sense of clarity and an understanding about what truly matters.

The original Not About To Die was an illegal bootleg, released at some point in the early 80s, by the dubiously named Amnesia Records. The album was made up of selections from demos recorded by the group for their second and third albums: Chairs Missing and 154. These demos had been recorded for EMI, with cassette copies circulated amongst record company employees. However, they were never intended for release. A typically shoddy cash-in, the songs on Not About To Die were taken from a second or possibly third generation cassette, with the album housed in a grainy green and red photo-copied sleeve. Compared with the high standards of production and design Wire have always been known for, it was something of an insult to band and fans alike. Now, in a classic act of Wire perversity, the group have decided to redress the balance and reclaim one of the shadier moments of its history, by giving Not About To Die its first official release on the bands own pinkflag imprint.. All the tracks have been properly remastered, with the relevant recording details in place. As for the sleeve artwork, whilst it strongly references the original, it is decidedly more artful in its execution. Not About To Die emerges as a fascinating snapshot of Wire in transition with embryonic versions of classic songs such as ‘French Film (Blurred)’, ‘Used To’ and ‘Being Sucked In Again’, that the group would develop considerably for their epochal 1978 album Chairs Missing. Later demos such as ‘Once Is Enough’, ‘On Returning’ and ‘Two People In A Room’ would surface in radically altered form on 1979’s 154. Some songs, such as ‘The Other Window’, are virtually unrecognisable from their later iterations but the biggest prizes here may well be the tracks that were omitted from Wire's later studio albums... Highlights include ‘Motive’, which has an undeniable power. Robert Grey’s drumming is crisp and minimal, and Graham Lewis’s bass runs are particularly ear-catching. Despite its distinctly un-Wire title, ‘Love Ain't Polite’ is also something of a gem. Meanwhile, the track which gives the album its title Not About To Die (officially known as ‘Stepping Off Too Quick’) possesses what Colin Newman half jokingly calls “The best intro to any song ever”. The intro is so good in fact, that it takes up a third of the song’s entire time frame. These properly mastered tracks have never been available on vinyl before, and they provide an opportunity to hear Wire at a point in their development when they were bursting with fresh ideas and a will to communicate them. This is post-punk at its very finest.

a A1 Oh No Not So [save The Bullet]



[e] A5 French Film [blurred]




[j] A10 Chairs Missing [used To]

[l] B2 Ignorance No Plea [i Should Have Known Better]


[o] B5 Stepping Off Too Quick [not About To Die]

Trees Speak are back!
Speak’s new album, “Vertigo of Flaws: Emancipation of the Dissonance and Temperaments in
Irrational Waveforms” comes as a double-vinyl edition, single CD and digital release. The limitededition first pressing only of the vinyl includes a bonus 45 enclosed in an 8-page 7”x7” booklet
insert housed within the gatefold sleeve with cover artwork created by Soviet Union propaganda
artist Lazar Markovich Lissitzky in 1911.
Trees Speak are back!
This new release is a vast leap into an ocean of space and sound, a quantum leap into cybernetics, biology, anti-gravity,
time travel, dream speech and transfiguration. A seriously next step release!
Showing no signs of slowing down their rapid creative pace – incredibly this is their fourth album in the space of just over
one year – ‘Vertigo of Flaws’ is a mighty 29 tracks, one and a half hours of music across one double album that is surely
going to be a defining point in their musical career, a giant leap into the sonic unknown, an epic exploration of intensity
and sound.
Alongside their now trademark German krautrock motoric-beat rhythms, angular New York post-punk attitude, tripped-out
60s spy soundtrack, psyche-rock, and 70s synthesizers and vocoders, here you will also hear a new cosmic spacial
awareness (both personal inner space and galactic outer space) and a truly wilful pushing of sonic boundaries - as police
sirens, static noise, alarms, radio signals, avant-garde voices, and orchestral string quartets, all collide to add beautiful
dissonance to uber-powerful, intense, addictive and propulsive rhythms - in the process creating a truly unique
soundscape that Trees Speak have made wholly their own.
If you ever wanted to hear Can, Hawkwind, Destroy All Monsters, Pere Ubu, electric eels, John Cage, Liquid Liquid,
Tangerine Dream, Suicide, Neu!, Laurie Spiegel, Art Ensemble of Chicago, John Barry, Mother Mallard’s Portable
Masterpiece Company, Sun Ra, Stockhausen, John Carpenter, Electro-Acoustic and Musique Concrete and Mars in one
band - then this is it!
Trees Speak are Daniel Martin Diaz and Damian Diaz from Tucson, Arizona and their music often draws on the cosmic nighttime magic of Arizona’s natural desert landscapes. ‘Trees Speak’ relates to the idea of future technologies storing
information and data in trees and plants - using them as hard drives - and the idea that Trees communicate collectively.
Special guests from the hyper-creative hub of the Tucson music scene on this release are Gabriel Sullivan, Ben Nisbet, Saul
Millan, Stephani Guilmette, and Davis Jones.
The album Vertigo of Flaws was recorded in Brooklyn, New York, and Tucson, Arizona during the plague of 2021.
Extract from Vertigo of Flaws sleevenotes:
‘As we travel through space and time, avoiding the discarded remains of the industrial period, the
deconstruction of social norms through the expression of art, music, and philosophy guide the human
experience towards the unknown.
All that remains are musical echoes scattered throughout the universe, like ancient vibrations that now
populate the cosmos. These waves now show signs of decay. Melody, beauty, tonality have all but fallen
away as dissonance blossoms. As John Cage wrote in 1937,
“Whereas, in the past, the point of disagreement has been between dissonance and consonance, it will be,
in the immediate future, between noise and so-called musical sounds. New methods will be discovered,
bearing a definite relation to Schoenberg’s twelve-tone system and present methods of writing percussion
music and any other methods which are
free from the concept of a fundamental tone”.
Similarly, George Van Tassel claimed the Integratron as capable of
rejuvenation, anti-gravity, and time travel. So, what remains of the
“people”? We have adopted from them our own Zeitgeber: their pulses
now guide our sun, our planets, our earths, and are the new circadian,
diurnal, and ultradian rhythms of the galaxy. Traumsprache, dream
speech, is now the internal language of trees.
Decaying metal and machines liberated the note unto nature’s table,
and we sip the delicious nectar of music once more irrational, elaborate,
violent, vast. The past is the future, musical disintegration its own rebirth.
We are nature, once more the computer of the Universe.’

Following years of international touring and a lengthy list of critically-acclaimed collaborations with Brian Jonestown Massacre's Anton Newcombe in recent years (most recently the duo's self-titled 2018 LP), the new album will be Parks' first full-length solo offering since her debut, 'Blood Hot', was released back in 2013 on Alan McGee's 359 Music label. "In my mind, this album is like hopscotch", Parks says: "These songs were pieced together over time in London, Toronto and Los Angeles with friends and family between August 2019 and March 2021. So many other versions of these songs exist. The recording and final completion of this album took over two years and wow - the lesson I have learned the most is that words are spells. If I didn't know it before, I know it now for sure. I only want to put good out into the universe." A growing disillusionment with the state of the world paired with an injury that stopped Parks from being able to play guitar and piano for months meant the album was nearly shelved. "I really felt discouraged to complete this album", she recalls: "I stopped listening to music for honestly about a year altogether and turned to painting instead. I really had to convince myself again that it's important to just share whatever good we can - having faith in ourselves to know that our lights can shine on and on through other people and for other people. The thought of anyone not sharing their art or being shy of anything they create seems like a real tragedy to me. Even if it's not perfect, you're capturing a moment." Recorded over a two year period but with songs, lyrics and ideas dating back over a decade in some form, 'And Those Who Were Seen Dancing' is an album full of such moments, people and places. Col LP is on 180g ultra-clear vinyl, standard sleeve.

Following years of international touring and a lengthy list of critically-acclaimed collaborations with Brian Jonestown Massacre's Anton Newcombe in recent years (most recently the duo's self-titled 2018 LP), the new album will be Parks' first full-length solo offering since her debut, 'Blood Hot', was released back in 2013 on Alan McGee's 359 Music label. "In my mind, this album is like hopscotch", Parks says: "These songs were pieced together over time in London, Toronto and Los Angeles with friends and family between August 2019 and March 2021. So many other versions of these songs exist. The recording and final completion of this album took over two years and wow - the lesson I have learned the most is that words are spells. If I didn't know it before, I know it now for sure. I only want to put good out into the universe." A growing disillusionment with the state of the world paired with an injury that stopped Parks from being able to play guitar and piano for months meant the album was nearly shelved. "I really felt discouraged to complete this album", she recalls: "I stopped listening to music for honestly about a year altogether and turned to painting instead. I really had to convince myself again that it's important to just share whatever good we can - having faith in ourselves to know that our lights can shine on and on through other people and for other people. The thought of anyone not sharing their art or being shy of anything they create seems like a real tragedy to me. Even if it's not perfect, you're capturing a moment." Recorded over a two year period but with songs, lyrics and ideas dating back over a decade in some form, 'And Those Who Were Seen Dancing' is an album full of such moments, people and places. Col LP is on 180g ultra-clear vinyl, standard sleeve.

A Collection of Sounds from the Studio Eksperymentalne Polskiego Radia (1959-2001)
Art by Zofia Kulik

"Would it sound just as bad if you played it backwards?" assembles a collection of audio experiments created at the Polish Radio Experimental Studio (PRES) from 1959 to the beginning of the millennium. These exceptional works are presented alongside images from the Polish artist Zofia Kulik, whose career reached its apogee between the late 1960s and early 70s. While PRES and Kulik remain important artifacts in the recent history of the Polish avant-garde, presenting them together in one release may not seem like an obvious choice. There are, of course, some historical intersections-he most notable being a shared interest in Polish artist and architectOskar Hansen's Open Form theory. Open Form promoted a modular theory of architecture that became a tool adapted by its users and inhabitants to ??????????????..Hansen's ideas influenced Kulik's early works and also manifested in the PRES's iconic "black room", a music studio designed by Hansen, himself, which was equipped with moveable sound panels that absorbed or reflected sounds to promote a greater, creative freedom from its users. And yet, as it usually goes, the most obvious connections are usually the most deceitful. Whereas Kulik initially followed Open Form, she later turned away from it. And as for the black room-it mostly worked in theory but not in practice. What is it then that makes the two work together?

Polish Radio Experimental Studio - PRES (Polish: Studio Eksperymentalne Polskiego Radia) was an experimental music studio in Warsaw, where electronic and utility pieces were recorded. The establishment of the Polish Radio Experimental Studio was conceived by W?odzimierz Sokorski, head of the Radio and Television Committee. Between 1952 and 1956 he was a Minister of Culture, and as a strong supporter of socialist realism he fought against any manifestations of modernity in music. The Polish Radio Experimental Studio was founded on the 15th of November 1957,1 but only in the second half of the following year was it adapted for sound production.23 It operated until 2004.4
Until 1985, for 28 years the studio was headed by its founder - Józef Patkowski - musicologist, acoustician, and the chairman of the Polish Composers' Union. The second most important person in the Studio was Krzysztof Szlifirski, an electro-acoustics engineer. Before founding the studio Józef Patkowski visited similar hubs in Cologne, Paris, Gravesono and Milan.5 Though the studio was a place where autonomous electronic pieces were recorded, this wasn't its main purpose. It was launched as a space for the creation of independent compositions, sounds illustrations for radio dramas, and soundtracks for theatre, film and dance.

In the post-pandemic era that we now live in, some artists have used its abnormal reality as an abstract muse or a reason to expand their repertoire into unseen territory or styles. Fortunately, the Charlotte, NC native with the gritty, gospel-flecked croon does neither. Instead, Hamilton returns with familiar collaborators (9th Wonder, Jermaine Dupri, James Poyser) and his signature Southern grit and lyrics, planting those winning elements, ten toes down, into contemporarily-rendered, yet unabashedly-influenced,1970s-era soul. Sometimes those aspects are shimmering and glossy, such as the awe-struck, surrendering ode, "White Hennessy," the buoyant Curtis Mayfield-channeling title track and "Real Love," a boom-bap-heavy groove with a mellow, half-spoken and half-sung tribute to the emotion (with FL's Rick Ross anchoring the bridge). His Generation X roots are also in display on the bass-dropping and ice-flossing "I'm Ready," with ATL's own Lil Jon.
"Back in the black." "Black Power!" "Give me five on the black-hand side." "Always bet on Black." In a literal sense, the color black is created by the complete absence of light or the total absorption of all shades. It represents solemnity, sophistication or literal all-encompassing darkness. But for the people residing within its varying hues, blackness signifies all that is meaningful, fly and pertinent to their culture and way of life. The rich contrasts of black life, and the layers of emotion in-between, are what Anthony Hamilton is exploring throughout his seventh studio album, Love Is the New Black

 “As a human being it’s really important to feel and express
emotions whether happy or sad,” says Hiro Amamiya, the
Teleman drummer whose solo guise is Hiro Ama. “I sometimes
struggle to and so these are a collection of songs that explore
different emotions. I want people to feel something through my
music so I called this EP ‘Animal Emotions’.”
 Amamiya follows up on swiftly on 2020’s field recording-heavy
EP ‘Uncertainty’ with a record made in his bedroom and during
a time of introspection to create something even more personal.
“On ‘Uncertainty’ I was using sounds from everywhere and
whatever sounded good,” he says. “But for ‘Animal Emotions’ I
stuck with fewer instruments so the EP feels much more united.
I also used more acoustic instruments as I sometimes feel
electronic music in general lacks some organic and human
elements so I tried to make this EP as organic as possible.”
 However, buried beneath the warm electronics, gently pulsing
grooves, infectious melodies and immersive soundscapes - that
veer from disco strut to IDM via jazz-laced ambient - you’ll still
find some field recordings. “You might not hear them as
obviously as on my previous EP but field recordings are there,”
he says. “I like them because it's very spontaneous and gives
some human feel. It also adds some air to a recording which I
quite like.” On the opener ‘Free Soul’ - which marries funk bass
with subtle electronics and squelchy grooves - you can hear a
voice sample of a woman from Southeast Asia singing a lullaby.
 “I wanted to make an up-tempo and danceable song so I can
dance in my room during the lockdown. I got lost in Jazz music
the last couple of years and it really changed and opened up
the way I make music.” The moods, tones and emotions on the
EP shift as seamlessly as the genres, never quite settling into
one single place and constantly exploring and expanding into
new musical terrain. A process mirrored by Amamiya’s own
varied influences and tastes that were funnelled into the record,
from film soundtracks to IDM to spiritual jazz such as
‘November Cotton Flower’ by Marion Brown and ‘Harvest’ by
Pharoah Sanders.

LIMITED EDITION OF 300 YELLOW VINYL COPIES

Shawn Lee follows up his country-soul solo album "Rides Again", released in 2019, with an even more personal, intriguing set of songs. The US born and London based prolific singer, songwriter, musician, producer, arranger, filmmaker and author puts the story of "Rides Yet Again" in his own words.

"When the original pandemic lockdown of 2020 ascended upon the world, I found myself like many others a prisoner in my own home. I began thinking about making new music. What do I wanna do I pondered… 'Rides Again' was a personal once in a lifetime album or was it? After some reflection, I realised there was more to this story, this sound. As I eventually crept back to my studio ducking and diving all the way, I started writing and recording new songs for Rides YET Again. The lyrics heavily informed by life during lockdown, my new dog Carla and my recent health problems. I had suffered a stroke which left me with some brain damage and I struggled with Aphasia for well over a year with extremely impaired speech. It was hard … I found solace in song and a musical context to share my ups and downs. It was a beautiful place to retreat to. John Pickup brought his brilliant orchestral treatments. Also Nichol Thomson, Tom Walsh, Mike Davis & Andy Ross blessed me with their sublime horn stylings. Suffice to say I'm really quite fond of this little record. Much love to you wherever you may be."

"Svalbard are a great example of a band who have done things The Right
Way
Existing as a band for approximately 4 years before releasing their debut album,
Svalbard played the slow and steady game, holding their cards relatively close to
their chest. This enabled them to finely hone their craft over a number of 7”s, EPs
and split releases, each time improving slightly on their songwriting and recording
methodology, allowing themselves to experiment and push their sound in
different directions along the way. This plan of attack enabled the band to
consistently improve without the stringent spotlight, or pressure thereof, of an
album. It also, rightly, seemed to keep people wanting more… "

Bear’s Den have today announced the release of their eagerly anticipated fourth studio album, Blue Hours.

Set for release on May 13th via Communion Records, the album sees the much-loved folk-rock duo – made up of Andrew Davie and Kevin Jones – once again team up with producer Ian Grimble on what is one of their most personal records to date.

Speaking about the new album, Davie says: “Blue Hours is a kind of imaginary space you get into at night, a place where you process difficult things or where you try to figure everything out.”

Themes on the album include both self-reflection and mental health after both struggled with the latter in recent years. “It’s the main over-arching theme with this record,” Davie explains. The group, who have worked with mental health charity CALM (Campaign Against Living Miserably) previously added: “It probably speaks to our struggles and hopefully many other people’s too. Men are not very good at talking. We’re not really taught how to – men have no idea how to talk about this stuff, certainly to each other.”

The pair describe the conceptual blue hours headspace that gives the new album its title as being “somewhere between a hotel, a mental health hospital, a bar that stays open later than anywhere else, a paradise, a dream, a nightmare and an endless sea of corridors and staircases leading you to rooms that represent memories – good, bad, happy or difficult.”

Despite the album’s challenging themes, it’s an album drenched in hope too. “We wanted this to be a celebration of music,” Jones continues. “I think that informed some of the bolder decision making on this record. At a time when music was so distant, it felt important to make an album that sounded hopeful, celebratory, ambitious and beautiful in spite of the heavy subject matter in some of the songs.” Jones adds: “It was almost like we needed to shout louder than before because we felt that there were more barriers between the audience and us. We needed something to transcend that.”

Following on from the album’s lead single, ‘All That You Are’, which was released late last year, the group have also given a further taster of what to expect from the new album with the release today of their bold, electronic-driven latest single, ‘Spiders’. Stream the new single here.

Speaking about the song, Davie says: “I started writing ‘Spiders’ around the time we left London. In my head, I thought moving would solve lots of problems, like everything will be better – almost like this Neverland vibe,” he laughs. “‘Spiders’ is a song dealing with the fact that this absolutely wasn’t the case. I had this vision in my head that I’d be at one with nature, that I’d be calmer – but all the things that were rattling around in my brain before were still there after the move. The song is about the fact you can’t run away from the things that are bothering you.”

Adding, “While making the record we wanted to get across a kind of simmering intensity with the song and the idea of someone trying to keep their shit together while wrestling with these darker thoughts and feelings. We wanted to get across a sense of bravery & triumph in saying, “sometimes I can’t pull myself out” of these difficult situations. To celebrate the difficult moments because we all have them. They are a universally shared experience even if it feels sometimes like they’re not and you’re the only one who feels them.”

Melodically, the song is a gentle Wurlitzer and guitar-driven track filled with hope thanks to the electronic elements added by long-term producer, Ian Grimble. “This song maybe sparked a lot of detail that ended up coming out on other songs on the album,” Davie says. “The sound of this felt exciting to us both,” Jones adds.

Bear’s Den have today announced the release of their eagerly anticipated fourth studio album, Blue Hours.

Set for release on May 13th via Communion Records, the album sees the much-loved folk-rock duo – made up of Andrew Davie and Kevin Jones – once again team up with producer Ian Grimble on what is one of their most personal records to date.

Speaking about the new album, Davie says: “Blue Hours is a kind of imaginary space you get into at night, a place where you process difficult things or where you try to figure everything out.”

Themes on the album include both self-reflection and mental health after both struggled with the latter in recent years. “It’s the main over-arching theme with this record,” Davie explains. The group, who have worked with mental health charity CALM (Campaign Against Living Miserably) previously added: “It probably speaks to our struggles and hopefully many other people’s too. Men are not very good at talking. We’re not really taught how to – men have no idea how to talk about this stuff, certainly to each other.”

The pair describe the conceptual blue hours headspace that gives the new album its title as being “somewhere between a hotel, a mental health hospital, a bar that stays open later than anywhere else, a paradise, a dream, a nightmare and an endless sea of corridors and staircases leading you to rooms that represent memories – good, bad, happy or difficult.”

Despite the album’s challenging themes, it’s an album drenched in hope too. “We wanted this to be a celebration of music,” Jones continues. “I think that informed some of the bolder decision making on this record. At a time when music was so distant, it felt important to make an album that sounded hopeful, celebratory, ambitious and beautiful in spite of the heavy subject matter in some of the songs.” Jones adds: “It was almost like we needed to shout louder than before because we felt that there were more barriers between the audience and us. We needed something to transcend that.”

Following on from the album’s lead single, ‘All That You Are’, which was released late last year, the group have also given a further taster of what to expect from the new album with the release today of their bold, electronic-driven latest single, ‘Spiders’. Stream the new single here.

Speaking about the song, Davie says: “I started writing ‘Spiders’ around the time we left London. In my head, I thought moving would solve lots of problems, like everything will be better – almost like this Neverland vibe,” he laughs. “‘Spiders’ is a song dealing with the fact that this absolutely wasn’t the case. I had this vision in my head that I’d be at one with nature, that I’d be calmer – but all the things that were rattling around in my brain before were still there after the move. The song is about the fact you can’t run away from the things that are bothering you.”

Adding, “While making the record we wanted to get across a kind of simmering intensity with the song and the idea of someone trying to keep their shit together while wrestling with these darker thoughts and feelings. We wanted to get across a sense of bravery & triumph in saying, “sometimes I can’t pull myself out” of these difficult situations. To celebrate the difficult moments because we all have them. They are a universally shared experience even if it feels sometimes like they’re not and you’re the only one who feels them.”

Melodically, the song is a gentle Wurlitzer and guitar-driven track filled with hope thanks to the electronic elements added by long-term producer, Ian Grimble. “This song maybe sparked a lot of detail that ended up coming out on other songs on the album,” Davie says. “The sound of this felt exciting to us both,” Jones adds.

Australian hip-hop/neo soul duo SO.Crates are a boom-bap prayer sent live and direct from the heart of two of the culture’s most committed students. The group features Melbourne based beatmaker and DJ Skomes alongside California-via-Adelaide MC & poet Cazeaux O.S.L.O, not to mention the MUSE, a forever changing third party who completes the creative trinity of the Crates. With a legacy built on releasing a steady flow of cold-crush records and delivering uplifting live performances to the party people, SO.Crates prove that hip-hop’s golden era is not a lost date in time, but a foundational state of mind. Functioning as a considered preview of what to expect from the album to follow, the hypnotic first release 'Stars' is an auditory exploration of what happens when two opposing charges collide; the joyful and the melancholy. Here, layers of instrumentation, samples and vocals sit atop a foundation of grounding beats — the track's roots from which piano samples, live trumpet and vocal embellishments spring. "When Skomes gets in his stride, it's always a bit of a happy/sad feeling. It can go either way, like a mood ring", says Cazeaux O.S.L.O. "I guess you could say we make mood ring beats, and 'Stars' is no exception".

Ex-We Are The Physics and current Slime City vocalist Michael M returns with a brand new album of irreverent lo-fi garage punk bangers

Short, fast, pointed anecdotes crammed into just over 30 minutes (so it's eligible for a Scottish Album of the Year Award) for fans of Weezer, Art Brut, Mike Krol, Half Man Half Biscuit, Mclusky, Jay Reatard. Includes download code and videos for each song.A scathing but reflective attack on the internet's Balloon Guy? 10003;The existential crisis of finding out how old the boy from the Sixth Sense is? A Shangri-Las inspired tragedy-pop song about an old crisp packet?Nu Metal, but polite?


Pressed on a totally randomly assigned Eco Colour Vinyl!

Toro y Moi’s seventh studio album, ‘MAHAL’, is the boldest and most fascinating journey yet
from musical mastermind Chaz Bear. The record spans genre and sound - encompassing the
shaggy psychedelic rock of the 1960s and ‘70s, and the airy sounds of 1990s mod-post-rock -
taking listeners on an auditory expedition, as if they’re riding in the back of Bear’s Filipino
jeepney that adorns the album’s cover. But ‘MAHAL’ is also an unmistakably Toro y Moi
experience, calling back to previous works while charting a new path forward in a way that only
Bear can do.
 ‘MAHAL’ is the latest in an accomplished career for Bear, who’s undoubtedly one of the
decade’s most influential musicians. Since the release of the electronic pop landmark ‘Causers
of This’ in 2009, subsequent records as Toro y Moi have repeatedly shifted the idea of what his
sound can be. But there’s little in Bear’s catalogue that will prepare you for the deep-groove
excursions on ‘MAHAL’, his most eclectic record to date.
 The second the album begins we’re immediately transported into the passenger seat, jeep
sounds and all, ready for the ride Chaz and company have concocted for us. Seeds of some of
‘MAHAL’s 13 songs date back to the more explicitly rock-oriented ‘What For?’ from 2015.
 ‘MAHAL’ was mostly completed last year in Bear’s Oakland studio with the involvement of a
host of collaborators, Sofie Royer and Unknown Mortal Orchestra’s Ruban Neilson to Neon
Indian’s Alan Palomo and the Mattson 2.
 “I wanted to make a record that featured more musicians on it than any other record of mine,”
he explains. “To have them live on that record feels grounded, bringing a communal
perspective to the table.” As a result, ‘MAHAL’ is lush and surprising at every turn, from the
cool-handed ‘The Loop’, which recalls Sly and the Family Stone, to the elastic psych rock of
‘Foreplay’ and the dizzying Mulatu Astatke-recalling of ‘Last Year’.
 Lyrically, the album zooms in on generational concerns, picking up where the ‘Outer Peace’
standout ‘Freelance’ effectively left off. Bear seems to be surveying the ways in which we
connect with technology, media, each other, and what disappears as a result. Cuts like the
squishy ‘Postman’ and ‘Magazine’ take a deep dive into our relationship with media in a
changing digital world. “It’s interesting to see how we adapt to this new age. We’re so
connected, but we’re still missing out on things,” Bear ruminates while discussing the album’s
themes.
 It’s not all introspection. Bear cools things down near the album’s end with the Mattson 2-
featuring ‘Millennium’, a laid-back jam with tricky guitar licks about ringing in new times even
when everything else seems upside down. “It’s about enjoying the new year, even when it’s
been shitty,” Bear explains. “There’s nothing else to do.”
 Finding a sense of joy in the face of adversity is embedded in ‘MAHAL’s DNA, right down to the
jeepney that literally and figuratively brings the music out into the community. “We know that
touring is messed up for now, and large gatherings are a fluke,” he explains. “It’s about the
notion of us going out to the people and bringing the record to them.” And with the wide-open
atmosphere of ‘MAHAL’, Toro y Moi stands to connect with more listeners than ever before.

We've always done things our own way and without any outside pressure,” says Paul Isherwood of The Soundcarriers. “Making music like this keeps things fresh, you always lose something and gain something as you go along but I think of it as just another chapter.”

There have been many chapters in the life of the band to date and each one is defined by the singular approach and style of the group. Since forming in 2007 the band - comprised of Isherwood, Adam Cann, Dorian Conway and Leonore Wheatley - have released three albums that position them as a distinct and unique force in British music. Eschewing fads and trends that come and go, they have instead focused on honing their own sonic world that glides between woozy psychedelia, immersive grooves, subtle pop and rich, enveloping soundscapes. They’ve consistently moved at their own pace and on their own terms and on their fourth album, Wilds, they return after seven years since their last. “The sessions started in a cottage in the wilds so there's a literal meaning,” Isherwood says of the title. “But figuratively we've pretty much been in the wild for the last few years as far as a lot of people are concerned.”

The recording was staggered over a few different locations, from cottages to primary schools, before finishing in an art gallery. “The beauty of recording in non-studio studios is you have the time for the unexpected to happen,” says Isherwood. “Which is really what keeps you coming back for more.” As a result of the timeframe of the album, it’s one that has changed and grown a lot over the years. “The record has been through a lot of stages,” says Isherwood. “It's almost been circular. We started off wanting to do an album of more shorter, concise tracks and then sort of sidestepped into some more spacey ambient ideas so in a way the album is kind of a synthesis of the two phases, overall carrying on with many of the themes and influences of the first three but with a more focused approach.”

The opening ‘Waves’ leaps out the gate with an infectious hook kissed by a touch of French pop before leaping into a devilishly catchy chorus and into a mini prog-like flute breakdown. It sets the tone for an album that is rich in adventure and unpredictability that manages to balance experimentation with accessibility. ‘At The Time’ is almost unrelenting in its grinding charge, managing to create a groove that cracks and pulses at the same time, ‘Wilds’ is a gorgeously floating piece of music that skips along with strutting bass as Wheatley’s vocals merge melody with texture magically. The closing ‘Happens Too Soon gently stirs to life with an almost pastoral folk air to it, as it slowly builds into swirling psych pop rich in texture before reaching a rousing crescendo. “I feel this album sums up a lot of our influences,” says Isherwood. “There’s a strong folk influence in the sense of the actual songwriting but musically we wanted to create songs that were like those rare oddities you find on a bizarre charity shop record. A collection of "one offs" capturing a moment rather than trying to make a hit song.”

This sense of it being an album of unique songs is clearly apparent throughout but it also maintains a natural flow and cohesion. This is something that stems from the band’s approach to songwriting for the record. “A lot of the tracks started with a feel or groove,” says Isherwood. “Then building it into a more concise arranged piece. We were conscious that we didn't want the recording to sound too over-polished so although a lot of the tracks were quite painstaking in how they evolved we wanted the actual recording to be quite raw and not be reliant on cutting things up or overly editing things. We wanted it to sound natural rather than perfect.”

The Line Is A Curve is about letting go. The core of the record is that the pressures we face do not always have to be heavy burdens, but can be reframed; the more pressure a person is under, the greater the possibility for release.

The album plays like a chronicle of pressures - the mind-numbing pursuit of a comfortable life, the eternal striving for more, the pressures of the city, the country, the times. The pressures of maintaining relationships, of battling illness, addiction, poor mental health, the vacuous life of our online selves. As we move through these chronicles though, the mood brightens. The musicality becomes more expansive as the lyrical horizon broadens and we glimpse coastlines, high streets, scrap yards, train stations in the rain; the entire album begins to let go. We encounter the contributions of artists who I love and admire, guest vocalists and instrumentalists, and so we defeat the sense of isolation felt in the opening track with a sense of deeply connected community. More Pressure, the penultimate song, is the essence of the whole album and the epiphany that leads to Grace, which is a prayer, a surrendering; ‘Please move me, please move through me, please unscrew me, please loosen me up.’ But once we get to the end of Grace, and the album, we loop back to the start – to ‘Kiss off the day with a mute mouth. Pass the commute like I can die faster than you.’ Because no matter how much a person grapples with, realises, deeply understands, about life and their place in it, we still wake up in the morning back to square one. Life isn’t solved the minute you figure something out about it. It’s a daily operation to increase your resilience, cultivate a deeper acceptance, let go of what’s chasing you and lean in to the pressures. It’s cyclical, as I believe all things are. And instead of trying to fight the cycles, this album asks us to surrender to them. To let go.

These general themes, of acceptance, resilience, surrender are also about where I’m at in my personal life, in my journey towards a greater acceptance of myself as an artist and as a human being. Being more honest with the world and my community about who I am and letting go of some heavy heavy shame, which is a glorious thing.

This album has a beautiful heart, there is so much love running through it and I can’t wait for people to experience it.

Repress

Founded in October 2017 and known in first place as a party series in Essen, The Third Room expands its spectrum with their debut as a label and mastering studio as well. Those three disciplines going hand in hand and forming our vision as a creative collective. Creating, crafting and sharing the passion that drives us.

After a bitter series of event cancellations caused by the corona pandemic we had to find a way to overcome this financial crisis which has put lot of people in a difficult situation who are driven by love and dedication for what they do. In first place we wanted to give all ticket buyers who waived their refunds for the cancelled The Third Room x Bassiani event at UNESCO World Heritage's Mischanlage a "thank you" gift in form as a Fundraiser Compilation. We wanted to preserve what we have built up over the years at our home base. Because we do believe that the Mischanlage is maybe the most aesthetically-techno place we've ever seen.

We, the founders Ahmet Sisman & VNNN., reached out for artists we have invited on our events, build up a strong relationship and sharing the same ambition for what we stand for. Not only regular guests such as Dax J, Ellen Allien or SHWD & Obscure Shape who have accompanied us over the years, but also new friendships have risen up with artists like Henning Baer, Hector Oaks or Markus Suckut. Or collectives such as Lebendig, R-Imprint, Brutalism, Purify and Acid Wave Records. It is safe to say that we have our own special story with each artist on this compilation and it shows once more that music unites us in these hard times. If you like what you hear, buy the music, support the artists and the local scene. Everyone who has held their T3R x Bassiani Tickets will get a download link of the compilation.

Repress
Byron the Aquarius (aka Byron Blaylock), an accomplished keys player as much as he is a producer, has a deep love for the organic side of music. This shines through in his creations, back to his debut EP in 2007. More recently, Blaylock's skillful jazz beats have found a home on the one and only Jeff Mills' Axis Records. From his birthplace in Birmingham Alabama, Blaylock has grown into an international figure of acclaim for his explorative compositions.

Already having two successful EPs with Shall Not Fade under his belt - most recently marking the labels' 50th release with What Up Doe? Vol.2 - Byron the Aquarius returns for a gorgeous double LP. Expect the smoothness of deep house, melodic instrumental hip hop production of the J Dilla creed along with tight jazz pieces.

The New Beginning LP showcases range and expertise from the off, exploding with pulsing discordant jazz in "Amaya's Voyage". Psychedelic g-funk is the MO of "Smoke One For Huckaby", before a B-side milieu of jazz and hip hop reminiscent of Guru's Jazzmatazz. The album settles into a deep groove across its C-side, the highlight of which is the percussive workout of "Underground Was Black", complemented delicately with dazed pads and buoyant but smokey lounge jazz sounds in "Cosmic Jazz". Off kilter hip hop shines through in "Last Time We Gonna Do This" and its eclectic sound palette, then we are blindsided by the heavy electro distortion of "The End Of The World". The record closes with a collaboration of the genres explored throughout, pieced together into the pumping "Lost People of Tron". The album feels like a lap of honour around all the influences in Byron The Aquarius' sound - it's yet another artistic triumph.

Favorite Recordings presents Dark Is The Color, the first LP by Alan Shearer reissued on vinyl for the first time. Despite being initially composed and produced for the French library label PSI, this rare
and obscure in-demand gem from 1985 sounds retrospectively like a proper album with great coherence and sophistication all along. Indeed, these 11 tracks will delight synthesizers addicts. Expect deeply emotive instrumental compositions, with ingenious analogue sequencing on stimulating chord progressions. The result is a highly retrofuturistic album, sometimes almost anticipating 90's videogames
scores. Just imagine Wally Badarou in a bunker with Talking Heads watching New York 1997 from John Carpenter.
Composed mostly step by step on a Sequential Pro-One synthesizer, Dark Is The Color is the product of the exciting state of mind from the 80's era with new sounds, new tools and new trends on the music spectrum. Influenced by bands like Talking Head or Japan, the sirens of the new wave scene strongly resonate here with Alan Shearer's familiarity and craftmanship with synthesizers.
Back in the days, Alan Shearer aka Frédéric Viger was working for his father’s music label, “Musique Pour L'image”, and their sublabel “PSI”. He started with Marathon Life under his real name before taking the Alan Shearer monitor. These records were produced for radio, TV and cinema industries but as well for companies’ internal communication. They represented a real investment from the label and these catalogues are usually full of amazing music from great artists such as Martial Solal, Vladimir Cosma, Joël Fajerman, Harlem Pop Trotters and even Manu Dibango.
About his musical illustration process, Alan Shearer tells: "Soundtracks are indeed my biggest influences and I'm a real fan of American composers as Jerry Goldsmith or Elmer Bernstein. I've always considered soundtracks as the new classical music or classical music of our century. There is a real state of mind producing music for illustration: you have to stick to the video. You should not tell what the image is saying but accompany what it is saying. You have to find a unique link, people always told me music should not be noticed for itself in a movie, that's what makes it good.”

The Effect Of Heavy Music: Rock Music And Revolution In 70s Zimbabwe. Eye Q’s music has never been collated and issued outside of its country of origin. Now, as part of the Now-Again Reserve series, their rare singles and even rarer album are presented in full. Just as the hippie era came to an end in America, a second 60s was beginning: in what is now Zimbabwe, young people created a rock and roll counterculture that drew inspiration from hippie ideals and the sounds of Hendrix and Deep Purple. The kids in the scene called their music “heavy,” because they could feel its impact, and it resonated from Zambia to Nigeria. At its peak in the mid-70s, the heavy rock scene united tens of thousands of young progressives of all racial and social backgrounds. The country was called Rhodesia then, one of the last bastions of White rule in Africa, and heavy rockers defied segregation laws and secret police to make a stand for democratic change. Eye Q is one of the greatest bands of the scene: their rock stands on par with the early Zamrock of WITCH and Ngozi Family. Please The Nation encapsulated Eye Q’s desire to forge forth, in a new, free country, and this set collates their 7” singles, ultra-rare album and songs from master tape and presents their music for the first time outside of Zimbabwe. In the accompanying oversized booklet, a trio of authors collaborate to tell the Eye Q story, and to investigate the genesis of the heavy rock scene under Ian Smith’s racist, oppressive government, and its dissipation after Zimbabwe’s liberation. The set also includes a download card for WAV files for all vinyl tracks, as well as bonus tracks.

In March 2020, Tahiti 80 had a plan to start recording their new album in the studio. That plan, of course, along with everything else in the world, got derailed. But the five-piece group was resilient and resourceful. They quickly shifted to a socially distanced plan B that included file swapping and virtual sessions, all refereed by producer Julien Vignon. The result, due for release in March 2022, is the buoyant Here With You, a collection of eleven upbeat songs that unfold like a prescription for a post-pandemic panacea.

“When lockdown in France happened, we said, 'We're not going to stay at home not doing anything,'” says singer-guitarist Xavier Boyer. “And our new plan became a hopeful thing, waking up every morning and seeing what the other guys had worked on. It wasn't always easy, but this new method allowed a freer approach where we could really go all the way with an idea without being influenced by each other’s suggestions. It must've been overwhelming for Julien, who ended up selecting all our arrangements. But he stayed positive all the way through.”

To help stay inspired and focused during their time in isolation, the band created a mood board, with the centerpiece a photo of an early '90s rave in the UK.

Boyer says, “Whenever you see pictures from this era, people seem very innocent. There are no cell phones and everybody is in to what they are experiencing. We kept that picture in mind as a kind of mantra that would help everyone feel connected to this idea of people celebrating, gathering and just having fun. We were missing the connection with people, and thought it would be great if we could create music that would inspire that kind of emotion.”

Indeed, the songs on Here With You are brimming the feeling of communion that we've all been missing over the past two years. It's there in the catchy opener Lost in the Sound, which walks the walk with Chic guitar flicks, urban nightfall sparkles and an inviting chorus (“Your heart grooves like a thousand 808s on the right time”). It's there in the Jackson 5-style syncopated bounce of “Vintage Creem,” the lush, dreamy “Breakfast in L.A.” and the panoramic sweep of “UFO.” And it's there in the first single “Hot,” which matches an irresistible groove with a neon-lit, percolating arrangement that evokes the disco clubs of 1979.

What's remarkable is that though Tahiti 80 displays a clear affection for sounds of the past, from bubble gum to '70s soul, they never trade in mere pastiche. Their take is more a slightly warped and playful carnival mirror mash-up of classic pop styles, given depth through Boyer's hang-gliding, coolly emotive vocals and lyrics that often rub against the euphoric grain of the music.

“I like to think of songs as a three-minute drama,” says Boyer. “This concept of drama definitely adds different levels to our music. There's the melody, the lyrics, then the production that can maybe emphasize or counterbalance the interaction between the yin and yang in a song.

“There's a difference between the very upbeat, sunshine-y soft rock and the lyrics, even on our past albums,” he continues. “Not dark, but a little more melancholy, and also looking for some kind of motivation, talking to yourself. Like with a lot of Motown songs, you get that feeling where you body’s dancing while your mind’s reflecting, reminiscing.”

That alluring blend of happy-sad has been a signature part of the Tahiti 80 sound from the time Boyer and bassist Pedro Resende formed the group in 1993, as students at the University of Rouen. Taking their name from a souvenir t-shirt given to Boyer's father in 1980, the duo recruited guitarist Mederic Gontier in 1994, and with the addition of drummer Sylvain Marchand a year later, the lineup was complete. The foursome released a self-produced and self-financed EP, 20 Minutes, in 1996, which resulted a record deal with French label Atmospheriques in 1998. Their full-length debut Puzzle, produced with Ivy's Andy Chase and mixed by Tore Johansson, went gold and featured the international hit “Heartbeat” that established the band throughout Europe and Asia.

In the years since, Tahiti 80 – with the additions of Raphaël Léger on drums and Hadrien Grange on keys - has released eight acclaimed albums. The band has fused what MOJO called a “glorious entente of old and new technology” (including singles like “Yellow Butterfly,” “1000 Times,” “Sound Museum,” “Crush!” and “Big Day,” which was featured on a FIFA video game soundtrack), while collaborating with such producers and arrangers as Richard Swift, Tony Lash and Richard Anthony Hewson, who famously arranged The Beatles' “Long and Winding Road.” Boyer has also put out two solo albums, the first under the anagram Axe Riverboy and the second under his name. In 2019, the band released Fear of an Acoustic Planet, a stripped-down reimagining of some of their best-loved tracks from the previous twenty years. It served not only as a look back but a reminder of their formidable songwriting skills.

Boyer is definitely a student of the timeless three-minute pop song format pioneered by '60s artists like The Beatles and The Beach Boys. He says, “I see it as kind of a frame for a painting. Most of the songs on this album, I wrote a verse, pre-chorus and chorus. There aren't many middle eights. I wanted it to be very concise. I feel like people have less attention. There's so much music. It's too easy to switch off or skip to another track, so I want to hook the listener. The three-minute song is kind of an easy code to crack, but at the same time you have to figure out a new way to tell the stories that we've heard before.”

And the stories on Here With You are very much about the longing for connection. Of the album title, Boyer says, “In the world right now, that can mean a lot of different things. Like missing our fans, missing going to concerts. In a way, it can be a statement of what happened last year, and a wish of 'I want to be here with you again.' It's our ninth album. We've had some had some very open, conceptual titles like Puzzle, Activity Center. Sometimes they were more specific like Fosbury orWallpaper for the Soul. Here with You, seems more personal, more engaging in terms of relationships. When I suggested that title, everyone in the band said, 'Yeah, that's it.'”

Until Tahiti 80 can resume a full tour schedule, Boyer says he hopes the new record will make that personal connection. “If I see from the point of view as a music fan, sometimes I see albums I like as companions throughout my life. So if we can be a part of people's existence, even if it's a song that reminds them of the time they were driving with the windows open and it was sunny. Or a sad song that resonates with them after a breakup. That's what we're all looking for when we're making music. You do this very personal thing and you want it to touch as many people as possible.”

Kadi Yombo, published in 1989, is the most successful album in the quest for a fusion between tradition and modernity in Bwiti harp music of the Tsogho people of Gabon. Combining beating rattles with a layer of synthesizers, Papé Nziengui blends in a contrapuntal dialogue characteristic of harp playing: male song in appeal and female choir in response, male voice of the musical arc and rhythms of female worship. But above all it’s Tsogho ritual music and modern studio orchestration. The result is an initiatory itinerary of 10 musical pieces which are all milestones likely to be simultaneously listened to, danced, meditated on, and soon acclaimed. In the years since, Nziengui has traveled he world from Lagos to Paris, from Tokyo to Cordoba, from Brussels to Mexico City to become a true icon, the emblem of Gabonese music.

Like Bob Dylan, "electrifying" folk and Bob Marley mixing rock with reggae, some purists have criticized Nziengui for having distorted the music of harp by imposing a cross with modern instruments. They even went so far as to claim that Nziengui was just an average harpist covering his shortcomings with stunts that were only good for impressing neophytes; like playing a harp placed upside down behind his back or playing two or three harps simultaneously. Sincere convictions or venomous defamations, in any case, Nziengui never gave in to such attacks, imposing himself on the contrary to pay homage to the elders (Yves Mouenga, Jean Honoré Miabé, Vickoss Ekondo) while instructing the maximum of young people. He is thus the promoter of many young talents, the most prominent of which is certainly his nephew Jean Pierre Mingongué. In a conservative society where the sacred is confused with secrecy, exposing the mysteries of Bwiti in broad daylight can be punished by exclusion or even execution.

Papé Nziengui has always claimed that he faces such risks because he never felt enslaved to a community that governs his life, that regulates his conduct, that has a right of censorship over his activities. Like Ravi Shankar, the famous sitarist, Papé Nziengui is a man of rupture but also of openness, a transmitter of culture. As proof, he has established himself in Libreville, Gabo’s capital, as the main harpist for sessions and concerts, accompanying the greatest national artists (Akendengué, Rompavè, Annie-Flore Batchiellilys, Les Champs sur la Lowé, etc.) as well as foreign artists (Papa Wemba, Manu Dibango, Kassav', Toups Bebey, etc.). In 1988, he was the first harpist to release an album in the form of a cassette produced by the French Cultural Center (Papé Nziengui, Chants et Musiques Tsogho). At the same time, he created his own group (Bovenga), combining traditional music instruments (musical bow, drums, various percussion instruments, etc.) in the framework of a true national orchestra, which gave the first concert and the first tours of a traditional music that was both modern and dynamic, thus "democratizing" the harp, to the dismay of certain purists.

On the other hand, in modern music, dominated by the logic of profit or even commercialism, artistic creation must often be adjusted for a specific audience based on reason rather than heart. But instead of allowing himself to be distorted, Papé Nziengui has always tried to produce music that is not a caricature, worthy in its expression as in its content, of the sacredness and transcendence of the music of the Origins. This is what makes Nziengui not only the musician, but the man someone whose age hasn’t altered any of his freshness or authenticity

Kadi Yombo, published in 1989, is the most successful album in the quest for a fusion between tradition and modernity in Bwiti harp music of the Tsogho people of Gabon. Combining beating rattles with a layer of synthesizers, Papé Nziengui blends in a contrapuntal dialogue characteristic of harp playing: male song in appeal and female choir in response, male voice of the musical arc and rhythms of female worship. But above all it’s Tsogho ritual music and modern studio orchestration. The result is an initiatory itinerary of 10 musical pieces which are all milestones likely to be simultaneously listened to, danced, meditated on, and soon acclaimed. In the years since, Nziengui has traveled he world from Lagos to Paris, from Tokyo to Cordoba, from Brussels to Mexico City to become a true icon, the emblem of Gabonese music.

Like Bob Dylan, "electrifying" folk and Bob Marley mixing rock with reggae, some purists have criticized Nziengui for having distorted the music of harp by imposing a cross with modern instruments. They even went so far as to claim that Nziengui was just an average harpist covering his shortcomings with stunts that were only good for impressing neophytes; like playing a harp placed upside down behind his back or playing two or three harps simultaneously. Sincere convictions or venomous defamations, in any case, Nziengui never gave in to such attacks, imposing himself on the contrary to pay homage to the elders (Yves Mouenga, Jean Honoré Miabé, Vickoss Ekondo) while instructing the maximum of young people. He is thus the promoter of many young talents, the most prominent of which is certainly his nephew Jean Pierre Mingongué. In a conservative society where the sacred is confused with secrecy, exposing the mysteries of Bwiti in broad daylight can be punished by exclusion or even execution.

Papé Nziengui has always claimed that he faces such risks because he never felt enslaved to a community that governs his life, that regulates his conduct, that has a right of censorship over his activities. Like Ravi Shankar, the famous sitarist, Papé Nziengui is a man of rupture but also of openness, a transmitter of culture. As proof, he has established himself in Libreville, Gabo’s capital, as the main harpist for sessions and concerts, accompanying the greatest national artists (Akendengué, Rompavè, Annie-Flore Batchiellilys, Les Champs sur la Lowé, etc.) as well as foreign artists (Papa Wemba, Manu Dibango, Kassav', Toups Bebey, etc.). In 1988, he was the first harpist to release an album in the form of a cassette produced by the French Cultural Center (Papé Nziengui, Chants et Musiques Tsogho). At the same time, he created his own group (Bovenga), combining traditional music instruments (musical bow, drums, various percussion instruments, etc.) in the framework of a true national orchestra, which gave the first concert and the first tours of a traditional music that was both modern and dynamic, thus "democratizing" the harp, to the dismay of certain purists.

On the other hand, in modern music, dominated by the logic of profit or even commercialism, artistic creation must often be adjusted for a specific audience based on reason rather than heart. But instead of allowing himself to be distorted, Papé Nziengui has always tried to produce music that is not a caricature, worthy in its expression as in its content, of the sacredness and transcendence of the music of the Origins. This is what makes Nziengui not only the musician, but the man someone whose age hasn’t altered any of his freshness or authenticity

Kadi Yombo, published in 1989, is the most successful album in the quest for a fusion between tradition and modernity in Bwiti harp music of the Tsogho people of Gabon. Combining beating rattles with a layer of synthesizers, Papé Nziengui blends in a contrapuntal dialogue characteristic of harp playing: male song in appeal and female choir in response, male voice of the musical arc and rhythms of female worship. But above all it’s Tsogho ritual music and modern studio orchestration. The result is an initiatory itinerary of 10 musical pieces which are all milestones likely to be simultaneously listened to, danced, meditated on, and soon acclaimed. In the years since, Nziengui has traveled he world from Lagos to Paris, from Tokyo to Cordoba, from Brussels to Mexico City to become a true icon, the emblem of Gabonese music.

Like Bob Dylan, "electrifying" folk and Bob Marley mixing rock with reggae, some purists have criticized Nziengui for having distorted the music of harp by imposing a cross with modern instruments. They even went so far as to claim that Nziengui was just an average harpist covering his shortcomings with stunts that were only good for impressing neophytes; like playing a harp placed upside down behind his back or playing two or three harps simultaneously. Sincere convictions or venomous defamations, in any case, Nziengui never gave in to such attacks, imposing himself on the contrary to pay homage to the elders (Yves Mouenga, Jean Honoré Miabé, Vickoss Ekondo) while instructing the maximum of young people. He is thus the promoter of many young talents, the most prominent of which is certainly his nephew Jean Pierre Mingongué. In a conservative society where the sacred is confused with secrecy, exposing the mysteries of Bwiti in broad daylight can be punished by exclusion or even execution.

Papé Nziengui has always claimed that he faces such risks because he never felt enslaved to a community that governs his life, that regulates his conduct, that has a right of censorship over his activities. Like Ravi Shankar, the famous sitarist, Papé Nziengui is a man of rupture but also of openness, a transmitter of culture. As proof, he has established himself in Libreville, Gabo’s capital, as the main harpist for sessions and concerts, accompanying the greatest national artists (Akendengué, Rompavè, Annie-Flore Batchiellilys, Les Champs sur la Lowé, etc.) as well as foreign artists (Papa Wemba, Manu Dibango, Kassav', Toups Bebey, etc.). In 1988, he was the first harpist to release an album in the form of a cassette produced by the French Cultural Center (Papé Nziengui, Chants et Musiques Tsogho). At the same time, he created his own group (Bovenga), combining traditional music instruments (musical bow, drums, various percussion instruments, etc.) in the framework of a true national orchestra, which gave the first concert and the first tours of a traditional music that was both modern and dynamic, thus "democratizing" the harp, to the dismay of certain purists.

On the other hand, in modern music, dominated by the logic of profit or even commercialism, artistic creation must often be adjusted for a specific audience based on reason rather than heart. But instead of allowing himself to be distorted, Papé Nziengui has always tried to produce music that is not a caricature, worthy in its expression as in its content, of the sacredness and transcendence of the music of the Origins. This is what makes Nziengui not only the musician, but the man someone whose age hasn’t altered any of his freshness or authenticity

This album is a tribute to Pastor Wylie Champion, who died while we were in the process of releasing this, his first record, and his wife, Mother Champion, who died a few months earlier. We met Pastor Champion a few years ago while we were putting together another release, The Time for Peace Is Now: Gospel Music About Us. We found him in a collection of YouTube videos from the 37th Street Baptist Church in Oakland, California, put together by the pastor there, Bishop Dr. W.C. McClinton. There was quite a lot of talent in those videos, and among them was Pastor Champion whom we liked so much that we decided to make a record with him. Pastor Champion wasn’t like any other pastor you’ve ever met. As an itinerant preacher, a carpenter, and a father of five, he made a name for himself traveling up and down the California coast with his electric guitar. He traveled alone and he played alone, well into his seventies. The easiest way to describe him would be as an outsider gospel artist. Other than these bare facts, we never learned much about him—except that he was also the brother of the well-known soul singer Bettye Swann. In fact, most of what we knew about him we got from his sister’s Wikipedia page. We decided that because we met Champion through the 37th Street Baptist Church, we would record him there too. We recorded him live on a two-track Nagra reel to reel, as we wanted the album to be analog in the style of traditional gospel recordings. Over the course of two evenings (when the workday was done), Champion taught his band—musicians who had never played together before—a handful of songs, a small selection of the nearly 2,000 fragments of songs and sermons that he regularly performed. We listened in as they all got more familiar with the material and each other over time. At some point, we mentioned to Champion that he would have to be interviewed by someone to write notes for the album. He wasn’t too pleased with this idea, saying he’d had a hard life and he didn’t want to talk about it. Over the next few months, we kept asking Champion to talk to someone about his life. He told us that he didn’t want to talk about growing up in Louisiana, his mother being accosted by the Klan, or that his father was a gambler. He didn’t want to talk about being jailed for 90 days for using a whites only bathroom, being in gangs or having a street name. We told him that was fine—he could talk about what he wanted to talk about. And he told us that he didn’t want to talk about anything. You know, there are times when you make a record where it’s already made in your mind before you start. But then in the end, the record you thought you were making is not the record you made. We spent years puzzling over this one, trying to figure out what it was saying, who it was for, and how to get people to pay attention to it. But Champion knew that this record wasn’t going to be for everyone. He didn’t really care. The important part for him was just getting the message out there in the same way that he always had, travelling alone with his electric guitar. “I want to say what I mean,” he said, “be practical, precise, to the point, and, at the same time, diplomatic.” In other words, he just wanted to be a good man. God bless Pastor Champion and Mother Champion, peace be with them and their family. Love to all.

7" Black Vinyl limited to 1000 copies.

Teenagehood, brotherhood and a genuine love for alternative music has united THE GOA EXPRESS from the off. Hailing from the industrial town of Burnley and adopted by the Manchester culture carriers, their teenage years can be viewed as something of a hedonistic pilgrimage into the underbelly of suburban rock and roll- their first gig having been 3 songs blasted out their mates garage, the next on top of a local vintage shop where the floor nearly caved in: “when there’s fuck all, you make do with what you got”. The intensity of this friendship has resulted in the occasional bust up along the way, yet it only adds to the burning chemistry that the band offer on record and on stage. Together, brothers James Douglas Clarke (Guitar + Vocals) and Joe Clarke (Keys), along with Joey Stein (Lead Guitar), Naham Muzaffar (Bass) and Sam Launder (Drums) all contribute to a fuzzy wall of diverse sound, becoming harder to pin down with their constantly evolving, psych-umbrella’d, rock and roll. What sets THE GOA EXPRESS apart from other musicians who sit comfortably within scenes is that their identity as a band has been growing organically long before the 5 of them decided to pick up instruments and teach themselves art of killing time. Their genuine joy in the everyday; their attitude and antics seem to hark back to the glory days of the NME- if they talk about a night out, you want to be there because these lads ooze charm and wreak havoc. This purist, old school approach to creating music through unified experiences and stimulated good times is married with the plain fact that they are very much young people of this generation, and while they see its flaws its hyperreality, its sheep-like tendencies, they still understand the importance in the immediacy of pop music: of a banging riff, or a glorious chorus and how effective this can truly be, and they want everyone along for the ride. With influences ranging from Spacemen 3 and The Brian Jonestown Massacre to French existentialism, from Beat Literature to long hours working at the Bookies to the journey into the sunrise on the night bus home, it is their ability to be all these things at once which makes THE GOA EXPRESS a guitar band for the 21st Century. Nothing is ever a compromise because they are so unapologetically themselves in everything they do- proud Northerners with a DIY foundation that aren’t afraid to look into the often dim future and see themselves shining brightly in it, unforgiving and unpretentious. So far, the band have released 3 singles with great success. The first: ‘Be My Friend’, produced by Ross Orton right next Sheffield’s famous ‘City Sauna’ brothel, presents itself to us as a cheeky, snarling pop song, holding undertones of raw cynicism laden with psychedelic sunshine. Ross Orton’s studio was also right next door to where the band recorded their last single ‘The Day’ with Nathan Saoudi of Fat White Family at ‘Champ Zone.’ Both these producers have been able to give these instant pop classics a grittier feel, capturing the essence of the unfettered lifestyle the band were living at the time that they were able to capture themselves in the music video for ‘Be My Friend’. After signing with Ra-Ra Rok, (WU-LU/Bingo Fury) the band released anthemic summer hit ‘Second Time’, that went straight to the 6 music B-List before quickly heading up to the A-List 2 for 2 weeks. This was followed by the release of its B-Side ‘Overpass’ that almost immediately caught the eyes and ears of BBC Radio 1’s Jack Saunders, who had the band on his ‘Next Wave’ Segment. Closing the year that saw them play to 1000 strong crowds at festivals like Latitude & End of the Road, the band headlined their biggest headline show to date at Manchester’s Gorilla. Its fair to say that this really is only the beginning.