Cerca:what if

The Belgian vibraphonist Guy Cabay has played with Toots Thielemans, Philip Caherine or Raoul Faisant. Composer, arranger, musicologist and singer, he also wrote and recorded two extraordinary albums in Liege Walloon. Tricatel is happy to make them available at last, 46 years after their publication.

"Gravity kills us. Perhaps that is the meaning of Adam's Fall. We are condemned to be Newton's apple, not the balloon carried away by the wind. But it happens nevertheless that, by the grace of music in particular, we escape gravity, that time escapes time, that another breath inflates our lungs, so much lighter than the one that usually suffocates us.

We don't take light music seriously, and that's good. Only serious music deserves to be treated so badly. Guy Cabay's music flows from a purer source and speaks to us in a more tender voice. One can obviously describe it as one labels export product. Origin: Belgium. Ingredients: jazz, bossa nova, tropicalism, song - proportions may vary. Calorific value: none.

Non-perishable product. But this would say as much about what this music really is as if, in. order to evoke what the foggy blue of a Norman sky inspires, one were to take note of the variations in the percentage of humidity in the atmosphere at Etretat and make a learned presentation on the laws of refraction.

Guy Cabay did pass through Brazil and still lives there a little, a Brazil that is not the one ofcartographers or travel agencies, a Brazil that is as real as the Far West in which Fenimore Cooper's child readers lived, as blurred and limpid as a dream. It is not the Amazon thatflows through this Brazil, but the Ourthe, a tributary of the Meuse, which makes it morefamiliar, stranger and even more poetic.

To let oneself be bathed in this melancholichappiness, to let oneself be carried by this river is sweet, as sweet as the fluid consonants of the Walloon language, this 'd' which becomes 'dj' in his mouth, as in Portuguese, by the way. To know how to create melodies that hold on a note like Jobim's samba, like a fildeferist above a waterfall of chords, is not given to everyone. It is a gift. Knowing how to lace others on dozens of points, as on Tot a-fet rote cou d'zeur cou d'zos, a poignant encounter between Randy Newman and Robert Wyatt, is another. These are not the only ones that the fairies offered to Guy Cabay and that, by an almost miracle, he offers us again today. Hearts up."

Bertrand Burgalat

Returning to Lisbon’s Light Channel Recordings, DJ Silver mines the rich seam of techno’s late-century flourishing into diverse forms – from stern 4/4 to reflective electro to gorgeous, cinematic ambient. ‘P World’ takes (and merits) the whole A-side: what starts as an unadorned piano solo unfurls into a mélange of sunburnt synth washes and hazy arpeggios, as if Detroit Escalator Co. went to the beach for a day. On the B, ‘Cell’ takes us on a nostalgic flight through Incunabula-era electro, here with a remarkable melodic lead line, while ‘Future Domination’ sheds the introspection and drops us straight into the ritual pressure of a packed techno floor. It’s a timely reminder that, even during a time of confinement, music can transport us to far-flung places.

DONNA SUMMER gained prominence during the 1970s disco
era, propelled by her incessant and creative driving force
behind the genre’s global popularity, rightly earning the title
“Queen Of Disco” and becoming one of the most
successful recording artists of the entire decade, now
having sold more than 130 Million records worldwide

Donna’s ‘80s close-out album was 1989’s ‘ANOTHER PLACE AND TIME’, which paired her with multi-hit making,
multi-million-selling UK producers Stock Aitken Waterman. The album is widely regarded as the best album they
produced, and which was heavily featured in the recent two-part TV documentary Stock Aitken Waterman:
Legends of Pop.
• The album’s lead single ‘This Time I Know It’s For Real’ was an uplifting, club floorfiller and radio-friendly hit,
peaking at #3 in the UK (#7 on the US Billboard Hot 100), giving Donna her highest charting solo single for more
than a decade.
• Four further singles were released from the album including the two Top 20 hits, ‘I Don’t Wanna Get Hurt’ and
‘Love’s About To Change My Heart’, giving Donna back-to-back UK Top 10 hits for the first time since 1977, as
well as remixed versions of ‘When Love Takes Over You’ and ‘Breakaway’.
• This special Picture Disc edition has a zoetrope effect on Side 2 that incorporates elements from the ‘This Time I
Know It’s For Real’ promo video and which gives a continuous dancing effect. It is best experienced using a
smartphone running a third party stroboscope app.

The illustrious, London-based duo Kit Sebastian, aka Kit Martin and Merve Erdem, return with a limited edition 7” single. It features ’L’addio’, a breakbeat driven, sultry ballad, and ‘Hayat’, a hazy, psychedelic scorcher that delves into the band’s Turkish and Azerbaijan influences.

‘L’addio’ saw the band perfecting their production and orchestration, with strings, horns and double bass, and an Italian synth found in a French dump. The music was greatly influenced by Italian soundtracks and Italian female singers, such as Mina or Rita Pavone. The track announces itself with a break that is guaranteed to get samplers twitching. The tone of the melody and lyrics is heartfelt and aching. It has a beautiful, intimate sadness like the closing scenes to a love affair, and it exquisitely rides over the slow, psych-funk-dramatic backing track. The lyrics are inspired by a flat opposite Merve's window that's occupied by drug addicts, with many guests coming in and out every night. Merve elaborated “Being both neighbours and strangers, and with the boredom of a post-tour everyday domestic life and a pinch of urban voyeurism, it was hard not to wonder what was happening in that flat. The words imagine an addict before her/his golden shot as if it's a love relationship between them that comes to an end.”

Having spent much of 2022 touring and writing, ‘Hayat’ was the first original composition the band recorded since their October 2021 album, ‘Melodi’. Here we see them weaving a psychedelic tapestry of Mugham melodies, organ-driven grooves, and jazz-pop harmonies in classic Kit Sebastian fashion. Recorded to Fostex 1/4” tape, the essence of the production is perfectly balanced between being brand new and retro, which is a feat very hard to pull off.

‘Hayat’ is sung in Turkish and the title translates as ‘Life’ in English. The song examines our desire to find one's place in the world and the provisionality of existence. Merve's searching lyrics ask “Where are you? Where is the universe?”. Her vocal delivery perfectly reflects the lyrical focus, its texture is probing and ethereal, almost as if sung from looking above us.

MELMAK's new 12" is entitled All Stars: The Rave Years which gives you an idea of what to expect. These are high-tempo, dense and rave ready sounds from the drum & bass vanguard. There is plenty of space out cosmic energy to the exploratory leads of X Termal's 'Tragnal Kozze' then 'What If' (The Doulo Klan edit) is a tightly coiled stepper. Bugger lays down a hyper speed rhythm with drilling bass and slapping hits on 'No Silence Now' and Umbra's 'The Big Dumb' is a real slow-motion churner with textural synths and alien sound designs. All four are ready to get the party going in different ways.

Flautist Johanna Orellana teams up with Carmen Villain for a collection of horizontal, pastoral field recordings and close mic-ed flute sounds that zero in on the instrument’s unstable resonance and levitational magic. There’s no cringe virtuoso business or fourth world firewalking here - just sonic purity, sublime minimalism and the precise capture of time, place and poetry.

You might have come across Johanna Orellana before if you’ve listened to Carmen Villain’s music (or seen her perform live), and Villain appears here in a producer’s role, using her engineering expertise to impart a level of restraint and sonic fidelity that’s quite startling. There are only really two central elements to the album: environmental recordings and flute. There’s no psychedelic delay, no cavernous reverb; no audible treatments at all - Orellana and Villain instead force us to consider the flute and its musical lineage.

‘El Jardín I’ introduces the instrument as a physical conduit; Orellana allows her breath to distort the sound - the padded pat pat of the keys forms a kind of rhythm, closely recorded so it’s amplified and jarring, linking to primal wind instruments like conch shells, bamboo flutes and wooden whistles. Recalling the way in which Debit interfaced with the ancient world using AI- assisted tech on last year’s ‘The Long Count’, Orellana uses a comparatively modern contemporary transverse flute, an instrument with roots that stretch back through the baroque era, into Medieval Europe, back to the Byzantine era and into Asia. The component that connects the instruments and eras is breath, and its amplification and modification through differently shaped pipes and vessels.

Orellana lets the environment sing: insects, rushing water and zephyr-like winds form a stage that presents her mortal energy, suggesting a harmony between our use of breath and its environmental ubiquitousness. Her technique is steeped in folk history and decouples itself from expectation by rooting itself in nature. It allows her to bridge the gap between equal temperament and less ordered (less commercially-focused) microtonality without overstating the concept. Other sounds waft in from the sidelines; what might be an Indian bansuri, stray notes, a gust of air.

There’s a link to the foundational new age recordings that Joanna Brouk made with Maggi Payne back in 1980, but Orelanna also absorbs the outdoor folk magic of Fonal or Stroom, and the improvisational grist of Bendik Giske or legendary US horn duo Nmperign.

Angelo is an LP, named after a car, featuring nine songs Brijean have crafted and carried with them through a period of profound change, loss, and relocation. It finds percussionist/singer Brijean Murphy and multi-instrumentalist/producer Doug Stuart processing the impossible the only way they know how: through rhythm and movement. The months surrounding the acclaimed release of Feelings, their full-length Ghostly International debut in 2021 which celebrated tender self-reflection and new possibilities, rang bittersweet with the absence of touring and the sudden passing of Murphy’s father and both of Stuart’s parents. In a haze of heartache, the duo left the

Bay Area to be near family, resetting in four cities in under two years. Their to-go rig became their traveling studio and these tracks, along with Angelo, became their few constants. Whereas Feelings formed over collaborative jams with friends, Angelo’s sessions presented Murphy and Stuart a chance to record at their most intimate, “to get us out of our grief and into our bodies,” says Murphy. They explored new moods and styles, reaching for effervescent dance tempos and technicolor backdrops, vibrant hues in contrast to their more somber human experiences. Angelo beams with positivity and creative renewal — a resourceful, collective answer to “what happens now?”

Angelo the car is a 1981 Toyota Celica they got off Craigslist during their first stint in Los Angeles, where Murphy and Stuart have since settled. “Such a bro-y, ‘80s dude car, it’s been super fun to drive around in a new town,” Murphy says. “He’s older than us, he’s a classic, he’s got a story.” It is a spiritual vehicle with a cinematic appeal, first dropping them off in an alleyway for the scene-setting intro, “Which Way To The Club.” The question is quickly resolved by “Take A Trip” as a cruising bassline mingles with crowd sounds, hand-claps, cuíca hiccups, whip-cracks, even a horse neigh. Brijean have found some club on this cross-dimensional trip — the kind of

imagined space or chamber within one’s self capable of “shifting a fraction of who you are,” says Murphy. They wrote the track with the simple intention to be “as free as we could be,” adds Stuart, likening the flip on the B section to a realm unlocked: ”What if the world changed completely? You open the door to a new room.”

Next is “Shy Guy,” a motivational anthem for the wallflowers among us. Murphy sets up the daydream: “We are in junior high, we’re on the dance floor, what’s going down, who is dancing, who is not, how are we gonna make them dance?” The narrator, the MC, hypes up the room as conga-driven rhythms bounce between languid synth and guitar lines. “Show me how to move...I feel something...I know you feel it too,” Murphy sings sweetly, calling back to the opening lines of Feelings, and this time the audience chants it back. It is easy to picture Brijean performing this one — something they only got to do a handful of times until more recently, opening shows for Khruangbin and Washed Out, an experience they found informative. Murphy explains, “It was inspiring to be out there and let loose more. To see how people can expand their expression on stage gave me more liberty with how I viewed my musicianship. My role for so long was to be a backup percussionist, so why would I ever leave the drums, you know? But then after playing all these runs, you see these artists and realize you can, you have permission.”

“Angelo” and “Ooo La La” deliver the danciest stretch in Brijean’s catalog to date. The title track adopts a deep house pulse replete with strings, hi-hats, and kicks. The latter opts for a funkier groove that foregoes verses in favor of warbled hums and extended breakdowns. What follows is perhaps the duo’s dreamiest run, a comedown initiated with the honey-hued interlude “Colors” drifting into “Where Do We Go?”, a tropicália reverie where Murphy contemplates the passage of time and space.

It all culminates in “Caldwell’s Way,” a fond farewell to their Bay Area community — “a part of my life that I knew couldn’t come back,” says Murphy. Above shimmering organ sounds, lush strings, and the birdcall of their former neighborhood, she wistfully articulates the uncertainty of moving on by remembering the characters dear to them. There’s the wisdom of their neighbor, Santos, who refused payment when helping them move out: “I’d rather have 100 friends than 100 dollars.” And the song’s namesake, Benjamin Caldwell Brown, a friend and club night cohort for many years. “I’m only miles away, maybe I’m just feeling lonely,” the line resigns to warm nostalgia, and “Nostalgia” runs the closing credits to this healing and transportive collection.

Two years after their previous effort, regular as clockwork, Swiss throbbing synth pop duo Veil Of Light is back with a new album and what can we say? These guys keep on getting better and better.

If you have followed the Zurich-based outfit over the past few years, you must have noticed the constant moving towards 80’s FM new wave and synthpop tones – without losing their electro/body music outline – that have marked the band’s parable, especially since their latest Landslide LP.

Sundancing is their sixth full-length and it stays the course, bringing what we’ve just said to the next step. Nine new dancy and bright tunes with emotional depth that blend lush instrumentation and robust rhythms, guided by funky and rubbery basslines. Syncopated rhythm sections match suburban cool synths in the lead single Apricot Kiss and Hypersleep, while Raindancing and Tonight summon a sinuosity long gone since the mid Eighties. The musical backdrop here serves as the fundament for emotional vocals delivering lyrics dealing with the fragility of love, joy and loneliness.

There’s some subtle addictiveness to these songs, one that will gently grab you by the collar of your coat and stick the refrains from Sundancing inside your head for good.
Veil Of Light might make it look easy to keep it neat without being minimalist, intimate without being depressing, romantic in the most true sense of the word, but we know that’s possibly the hardest thing to do.

You Can Can is an echoed affirmation, an album which traces song forms around silence, field recordings, and degraded analog memories. This is folk music transmogrified and mutated, as if recorded and reconstructed in Pierre Schaffer’s GRM studio.

Not your typical Mariposa folk duo, the group is comprised of Toronto avant-music scene stalwarts, vocalist Felicity Williams (Bernice, Bahamas) and bricolage artist and synthesist Andrew Zukerman (Fleshtone Aura, Badge Epoch). The album feels like a somnambulant conversation, fragmented and half-remembered with Williams’ vocals traveling through a landscape of field recordings and Zukerman’s saturated concrète topographies. It is an electro-acoustic assemblage, both analog and digital, comprised of air, electricity, minerals, wood, and water. Although the album nods towards traditional forms of folk and musique concrète (if at this point it can be called a traditional form), it is outwardly and inwardly contemporary; non-linear, citational, opaque, and sui generis. In a way it feels like a sonic index of the narrative experiments found on the infamous Language school-related publisher The Figures, in the work of Lyn Hejinian, Clark Coolidge, and Lydia Davis. In the musical continuum, the album picks up where Linda Perhacs left off in the early 70’s—explored by Gastr Del Sol in the ‘90s—a convergence of rural acoustic idioms and urban avant-electronics. This is country music for the discerning cosmopolitan citizen of the 21st Century.

RIYL: Luc Ferrari, Brannten Schnüre, William Basinski, Oval, Eric Chenaux, Emmanuelle Parrenin About Everything In Time and Failure Figures, Felicity Williams says:

Everything In Time is indebted to the language of Brazilian author Clarice Lispector (as translated by Alison Entrekin). Drawing on insights from psychoanalysis, we trace the roots of melancholy to render them available to consciousness; words from the ghostly realm of the transpersonal filter through dreams and shine a beam of light onto a lone trillium in a forest at night. Other influences include the experience of not knowing, of being subject to a gestation outside of one’s control. This is an ode to the power of naming to obliterate, to set free.

Failure Figures is a meditation on the radical contingency of reality and the vicissitudes of the will. With Slavoj Zizek as my guide (think: “Hegel for dummies” - I’m the dummy in this scenario), I wander through the valley of the shadow of death, and take heart. The last verse refers to an experience I had recording at a studio in Brussels. I was singing in French, with which I have some fluency, and the producer was complaining to the artist whose song it was that my delivery was not convincing. Thinking I was out of ear shot, he said in French, “c’est comme elle n'est pas là”; I was pronouncing the words correctly, but I failed to express anything. So what or whom is responsible for conveying meaning, if not the form of the word itself? And if the connection between meaning and form is broken, how do we fix it?

Gratitude to Thom Gill (guitar) and Daniel Fortin (bass) who joined us on the recording of Failure Figures. Thanks as well to my old roommate Christopher Willes, who unwittingly left behind his hand bells deep in the hall closet. We unearthed them by accident, and the bells became an important sound element. Thanks to other past roomies Robin Dann and Claire Harvie, whose childhood piano and guitar respectively still reside with us, and were used in the recording. Field recordings were made in Toronto, Canada and Celestún, Mexico in 2020.

KINGUNDERGROUND TO RELEASE SET OF 45s, FROM CAVENDISH MUSIC CATALOGUE. PAYING HOMAGE TO LIBRARY MUSIC, FURTHERING ITS EXPOSURE TO A NEW GENERATION OF LISTENERS.

Library Music experienced its heyday in the 60s and 70s, as thousands of instrumental tracks were produced by musicians and composers for the purpose of placements in radio, television, and film.
The first 45 of the to be released, classified as ‘Dramatic’ features tracks from both John Scott and Tony Kinsey. Titling was important to Library Music, because it needed to clearly represent the emotions being expressed through the music, so it was easy for television and film executives to find what they needed to complete their projects. John Scott wasted no time getting into the dramatics with the opening track “Milky Way”, it displays the importance of grabbing a listener from the top, as well as being concise clocking in at just 47 seconds. Scott was not only a master composer, but also known for his work on the Saxophone, including playing on John Barry’s soundtrack for ‘Goldfinger’ in the James Bond series.

The juxtaposition of Tony Kinsey’s composition on the record offers a dynamic not present in the two tracks from Scott. Kinsey is more patient in his approach to “Kaleidoscope” building the tension with multiple movements and highlighting several instruments. The way the keys and bass play off each other leaves just enough room for a guitar lick to sneak in, as if it is hinting toward something.
In all there will be 8 individual 45s, licensed from Boosey & Hawkes & Cavendish Music Library and released by KingUnderground. Including compositions by Tony Kinsey, John Scott, Sam Fonteyn, Ray Davies, and more.

ENARCHY is the debut album by Leipzig-based producer and singer Maria die Ruhe. It is the result of a deep and thorough look the
artist took into both her own inner workings and the world around her. In 14 tracks, she explores different types of energy,
oscillating between head and heart. Final destination of this sometimes painful process of self- exploration is the embodiment of
her own power and creativity; the realization, that she manifests her role as catalyst, healer, and fighter for freedom and equality
by reporting on her experiences. These songs are about nothing less than that. And you can also dance to them.
In a musical sense, Maria surpasses herself compared to previous releases. She is bolder, more explorative and dissolves genre
boundaries. Acoustic instruments like the cello and the piano unite playfully with electronic beats. Her expressive voice speaks and
sings from the lowest lows to the loftiest heights. Her self-disclosing lyrics communicate the deepest messages of the soul. One can
tell right away: something is at stake here, this is about a real human living through something real, and now reporting from the
front lines of the human experience.
With lines like „Things are changing all the fucking time“ (ENARCHY) she posts a reminder for the current zeitgeist and the resulting
global uncertainty. „Some things need to be destroyed before they can heal“ is a demand for openness towards change, even if it is
challenging, requires energy, and leaves behind some scars.
In ART IS THE ONLY REAL TRANSLATION OF LIVING FOR ME, Maria uses sentences like „I’ve been trying to please you, I got headaches
and I still don’t fit“ to express her desperation with existing structures of injustice and the lack of livability of the artist lifestyle.
„Ah, you’re an artist - and what do you do professionally?“ Everyone loves music and art! When, o when, will the understanding
follow that there need to be people who make this art as a central part of their lives?
Frustration takes turns with hope and a growing acceptance of the self. In EQUALISTA, Maria discusses antiquated conditions like the
inequality between the sexes in a kind of manifesto, with a simple proposal for solution: „Let’s both be selfish and raise our
energies, to create a whole world with all the things we need.“
In WE BELONG TO NEVER, Maria sings about the everyday horror of toxic relationships. Lines like „Disengagement and rage, I’ve become such a slave.“ express the despair of the emptiness that results from a lack of affection. She also describes treacherous
narcissistic manipulation: „You cut me small just to feel tall.“
In SKIN, she confesses: „I’m not as enough as everyone else.“ and describes the long and painful way from rejecting her own body
to loving herself unconditionally. „I hate what I feel, while I pretend to be free“ means she doesn’t want to be reduced down to
her body, doesn’t want to be seen as an instagrammable, thoroughly designed product; she wants to be acknowledged as an
individual.
In LOST, she poses a question that many are currently forced to ask themselves: „What do we do with all this solitude?“ Maybe
making use of the reclusion by exploring the shadow self. „Can you cope with the truth?“
The conclusion: energy is being freed up through the means of self-experience and living through the personal darkness -
ENARCHY. The realization: every human being is self-determined and should simply do what they feel. It is everyone’s right to
choose their own life’s path. Here, intuition serves as a signpost. This is both feminine and strong.
ENARCHY celebrates an embodied anarchy by working through the personal shadow and the genuine, healthy integration of the
struggle survived - not as a destructive rebellion, but as a testament of shameless, joyful self-empowerment.
„In the end, I want to be alive, because in reality, I’m free.“

British musician, multi-instrumentalist, producer and DJ cktrl returns with the release of his new EP ‘Yield’. Born from a desire to change the narrative around contemporary Black British music, the boundary-pushing musician aims with this project to prioritise the art of bonafide musicianship. A stark departure from cktrl’s previous work, ‘Yield’ is a celestial and palpably more inward body of work that harkens back to the pre-electric age of modal jazz while simultaneously pulling in elements from the disciplines of classical and baroque music. Speaking on the project’s sonic identity, cktrl says: “I want to be able to show that you can make things from scratch again that have that feeling and beauty without having to sample an old record. Even though that’s an art-form within itself, I want to show raw orchestration and instrumentation can be the sole source” The origins of the title came from a period where cktrl was looking to find solace in himself after an introspective period of grief and heartbreak. As an intentionally instrumental project with minimal vocals, cktrl wants prospective listeners to see these new songs as guided meditations where they can wholly insert themselves in it. Eliciting and reaping whatever feelings come to the fore. Speaking on what ‘Yield’ means to him as a concept, cktrl explains: “Some people who I've asked to define the word ‘yield’ have looked at it from a harvest point of view, whereas others have seen it as something to submit to, to render, like you're giving up yourself. I see it as a barometer for how you feel - no matter if you're at your lowest or your highest vibration, you still need to show up for yourself. You still have to be present. It’s about getting the best from yourself no matter where you are in life” The new project is the follow up to last year’s ‘Zero’ which featured collaborations with esteemed contemporaries like the GRAMMY-nominated Mereba and anaiis. Upon the project’s release, it was met with a plethora of critical acclaim from highly regarded publications and platform such as British Vogue, Dazed, CRACK Magazine, Resident Advisor, NOTION, Harper's Bazaar and ES Magazine for its sprawling and experimental scope, spanning avant-garde jazz, classical music, alternative R&B and electronica. cktrl has a tune for every occasion: as content making beats by himself at home in Lewisham as he is amongst this generation’s fashion and cultural vanguards. Music has been a part of his life for as long as he can remember: from clarinet lessons throughout his school life to fond memories from his NTS days. Moulded by a unique blend of his West Indian heritage, years of classical training in both the clarinet and saxophone, cktrl strives to do what hasn’t been done before. His approach to creation is decidedly wide-ranging and broad. In fact, where sonic descriptions might fail to encompass the breadth of cktrl’s scope, three words surface when he unpacks his musical aims: freedom, range and feeling. Elsewhere, throughout his career, cktrl has been recognised and heralded by fashion and film VIPs as he firmly embeds himself within the black cultural renaissance emerging here in Britain. Acquiring a global network of creatives that include the late Virgil Abloh, Bianca Saunders, Tremaine Emory, Saul Nash, Maximilian Davis, Ahluwalia, Stephen Isaac Wilson, Sean Frank, Campbell Addy, Ib Kamara and Jenn Nkiru who secured him a cameo in Beyoncé’s ground-breaking film ‘Black Is King’.

Tod Dockstader's Aerial series, an electronic/drone masterpiece, is cherished among fans of the artist's work and this second volume is available in an audiophile quality double LP edition.

Tod Dockstader's Aerial series is sourced from his life long passion for shortwave radio. Dockstader collected over 90 hours of recordings, made at night, and comprised of cross signals and fragments plucked from the atmosphere.

Opening with airwave drones, Dockstader gradually allows elements to slowly come and go, summoning an ominous atmosphere of ethereal cloud clouds. Malignant placidity continues, giving the feeling of eavesdropping upon late-night audio activity not unlike discovering number stations while sweeping the dials. These sounds pull you in as their density and rhythms come and go.
Backward voices, deep echoing choruses of conversations flowing under the surface, ocean sounds, pulsing electro-rhythms, all seem to be created via the collaging of many hours of source recordings. A masterwork of collage and juxtaposition by an overlooked pioneer of American electronic music.

Artwork by John Brien (Imprec) is inspired by the propagation of shortwave radio signals throughout the earth's atmosphere.

"This return of Dockstader is something to cherish, not just because his output has been so limited and scarce but because what we do have is so intriguing, persuasive and cliche-free; the music of an inspired explorer who trails in nobody's slipstream." The Wire

"One of the great figures of musique concrete composition." Dusted

The Aerial project

I've written before of my interest in shortwave radio, in the notes to the Quatermass CD. Also, in the notes to the Omniphony CD (which has my first "Aerial" mix, "Past Prelude," in it), I mentioned "The Aerial Etudes," which was my working title for what became the three CDs you have. And, at the end of an interview with Chris Cutler (which can be found in the "Unofficial TD Website"), the piece I mentioned I was starting to work on at the time became Aerial.) When I was very young, people got most of their entertainment from radio. They called it "playing the radio," as if it were a musical instrument. That's what I've tried to do in this piece. About this time, a few people encouraged me to look into using a computer for this work.

I'd never used one, but I saw it would allow me to keep my mixes digital - no more transfer losses. So, at the end of 2001, I got a computer and an editing program for it, and spent what seemed a long time learning it. I began selecting mixes and loading them into the computer in late March, 2002. Out of the 580, I selected 90 "best" mixes - eventually reduced to 59, the ones on the CDs. Finally, in assembling the CDs, I followed David Myers' suggestion to allow each piece to flow into the next - making a continuous journey to the end. Tod Dockstader, 14 september 2003

About Tod Dockstader: Dockstader moved to New York in 1958 and became a self-taught sound engineer and sound effects specialist and apprenticed as a recording engineer at Gotham Recording Studios. It was around this time that he started to use his off-work hours to experiment with mixing and manipulating sounds on magnetic tape (musique concrète). By 1960 he had amassed enough material to assemble his first record Eight Electronic Pieces which was released on the Folkways label in 1961 (this would later be used in the soundtrack of Fellini’s Satyricon). The last of the eight pieces was later re-worked into his first stereo piece. In 1961 he applied to use the facilities at the Columbia-Princeton Electronic Music Center and was denied access by Vladimir Ussachevsky. Ussachevsky’s official reason was the “overstrained” scheduling of the studios, although many suspect that Dockstader’s lack of academic training was a factor in the decision. He continued to create music throughout the first half of the 60s, working principally with tape manipulation effects. His last piece at Gotham was Four Telemetry Tapes in 1965, after which he left to work as an audio-visual designer on the Air Canada Pavillion at Montreal’s Expo ‘67. It was around this time in 1966 that some of Dockstader’s pieces were released on three Owl L.P.s, and his work became known to a larger audience. He achieved modest recognition and radio play alongside the likes of Karlheinz Stockhausen, Edgard Varèse, and John Cage.

In October 1974, the first number of “L'Indépendant du Jazz”, a small self-produced magazine DIY -before punk supposedly invented the concept- was launched by Jef Gilson, Gérard Terronès, Jean-Jacques Pussiau and a few other specialists of a different kind of jazz in France, it looked at the already long career of Jef Gilson and in detail at the album with saxophonist Philippe Maté:
“The ‘Workshop’ is, with Philippe Maté (alto-sax), an undeniable success. Maté is genuinely ‘the’ most inventive French saxophonist since Michel Portal burst onto the jazz scene (who has also worked with Jef Gilson on both “Enfin” and “Gaveau”).”

Even though the author of the article is a mysterious I.H. Dubiniou, and it is difficult to know if it is a real person or a pseudonym used by one of the merry bunch, it is also tempting to hear it as what Jef Gilson really thought about his new discovery. Even more so as the two men would work together over a long period, as Maté became one of the key figures of Gilson’s Europamerica orchestra up until the 1980s.

Philippe Maté had started to make a name for himself with the Acting Trio when they released an album on the BYG label in 1969, and he was also one of the regular sidemen for the Saravah studios (he can notably be heard on albums by Higelin, Fontaine or his cult duo album with Daniel Vallancien).

The album was recorded on 4 February 1972, at the Foyer de Montorgueuil, where Gilson had set up his studio, with more or less the same team found on “La Marche Dans Le Désert” by Sahib Shihab + Gilson Unit (recorded ten days later). This was drummer Jean-Claude Pourtier and pianist Pierre Moret (regular Gilson accomplices since “Le Massacre Du Printemps”), alongside Maurice Bouhana and Bruno Di Gioa on various percussions and/or wind instruments. On bass is Didier Levallet, of the now mythical Perception, (Jean-François Catoire would replace him with Shihab) and Philippe Maté who took top billing, rather than the American saxophonist afterwards. The two albums are however quite different. This “Workshop” is more abrasive, more free. Made up of two long improvisations each of over 22mn, “L'Œil” on side A and “Vision” on side B (Gilson specialists would recognise the nod to one of his albums from the 60s), the album plunges you into the depths, attempting to drown you in electronic waves, dragging you back to the surface by the collar, giving you a good shakedown, before showing you the light, leaving you breathless on the shore after 46mn of the most intense music French has to offer. “An undeniable success”, they said. (by Jérôme "Kalcha" Simonneau)