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'Sweet Tooth', das dritte Album der Emo-Band Mom Jeans, wurde in New Jersey in den Barber Shop Studios mit Produzent Brett Romnes (The Front Bottoms, Oso Oso, Dogleg) aufgenommen. Die Band spricht von einem echten, umfassenden Studioerlebnis, das sie befähigte, ohne jegliche Abstriche ein bisher unerreichtes Maß an Feinschliff zu erreichen. Tyler Povanda (Save Face) und Kory Gregory (Prince Daddy & The Hyena) steuerten die Vocals bei.

Today sees Belgian-Caribbean provocateur Charlotte Adigéry and her long-term musical partner, Bolis Pupul announce their debut album Topical Dancer, due for release on March 4 2022 via Soulwax’s iconic label DEEWEE.
Cultural appropriation. Misogyny and racism. Social media vanity. Post-colonialism and political correctness. These are not talking points that you’d ordinarily hear on the dancefloor but Charlotte Adigéry and Bolis Pupul are ripping up the rulebook with their debut album Topical Dancer. The Ghent-based duo, who broke out with their 2019 Zandoli EP, are rare storytellers in electronic music: they take the temperature of the time and funnel them into their playful synth concoctions – never didactic and always with a knowing wink.

Their debut studio record – which cements them as a duo under both their names for the first time and is co-written and co-produced by Soulwax – is both a triumph of kaleidoscopic electro-pop and “a snapshot of how we think about pop culture in the 2020s.” It captures Charlotte and Bolis’s essence as musical collaborators and the conversations they’ve had over the past two years on tour, as well as their perspectives as Belgians with an immigrant background, Charlotte with Guadeloupean and French-Martinique ancestry and Bolis being of Chinese descent.

Beyond the album’s thematic heft, Topical Dancer reflects Charlotte and Bolis’s idiosyncratic sound: it’s thoughtful but it bangs. Their take on familiar genres is always off-kilter; songs sound undone or a little wonky; but these are nocturnal heaters to make the club throb. “We like to fuck things up a bit,” laughs Bolis. “We cringe when we feel like we're making something that already exists, so we're always looking for things to combine to make it sound not like a pop song, not like an R&B song, not a techno song. We’re always putting different worlds together. Charlotte and I get bored when things get too predictable.”

Topical Dancer is fizzing with ideas – there’s certainly no filler among its 13 tracks. But above all, perhaps, it has a restlessness, a desire not to be boxed in and to escape others’ narrow perceptions of who they are. It’s summarised by the refrain of their new single, ‘Blenda’: “Don’t sound like what I look like / Don’t look like what I sound like.” “One thing that always comes up,” says Bolis, “is that people perceive me as the producer, and Charlotte as just a singer. Or that being a Black artist means you should be making ‘urban’ music. Those kinds of boxes don’t feel good to us.”

‘Blenda’ in particular references how “I am a product of colonialism,” says Charlotte, “and I feel guilty for taking up space in a white country.” The song was inspired in part by Reni Eddo-Lodge’s book Why I’m Not Longer Talking To White People About Race. “It talks about the colonial past and post-colonial present in the UK,” Charlotte continues, “but that isn’t merely a British or American problem, Belgium is part of that as well.” She says that her home country is likewise “oblivious to a big part of its history” which “results in general ignorance and a lack of understanding and empathy towards Belgian inhabitants of immigrant descent.”

On Topical Dancer, it’s less about finger pointing or being dogmatic about all the things they speak about. It’s about emancipation through humour. “I don’t want to feel this heaviness on me,” says Charlotte. “These aren’t my crosses to bear. Topical Dancer is my way of freeing myself of these issues. And of having fun.”

White Vinyl

Gost Zvuk prepare for a busy 2023 with an enthralling double LP's worth of futurist sound design from Flaty. In the game for more than a decade now, the producer, mastering engineer and all-round visionary artist has delivered an impressive range of music across both his own ANWO imprint as well as for West Mineral ltd., 12th Isle, Firecracker and more.

Always content to subvert expectations and blur stylistic lines, on Intuitive Word there is a clear fascination with a spectral, whittled-down-to-its-core type of avant-pop/RNB hybrid. Digital strings, dubbed beyond recognition semantic snatches, re-imagined new age style synthesis and even flourishes of MMORPG computer game soundtracks all combine into something that feels uniquely Flaty. In a sense, Intuitive Word marries ambient sound collage and hyperreal, narrative-style vocal processing. However, glimmers of shoegaze and old 'ethereal' bands (think Harold Budd & Cocteau Twins) crop up on tracks like 'Tree' and 'Nepal Lit', a testament to Flaty's skill for world-building and atmospherics.

Across the 19 cuts there is a recurring theme of choral style, computer generated elegies. A kind of 'cristal trance', in their words. 'Mint' combines these with overtly RNB style vocal samples, whereas darker, more broken beat soundscapes can be heard on the Madteo collab 'Observer'. With plenty of sombre and cinematic style ventures such as 'NEWS' breaking up the album and eschewing this focus on vocals, we find one of the most consistent producers in the current Russian scene delivering what may well be his most accomplished collection yet.

Ever since the first white labels appeared at the end of Summer 2013, Emotional Especial has been putting out music that is slightly left of (club music) centre. Influenced as much by and including dub, electro, disco, proto-house, house and techno, guided more by a feeling than a sound.

This thinking has been that exemplified by every 10th release being a label sampler - a showcase of unreleased tracks or remixes of what has come before, plus the odd one off cut by an artist to watch. Some 4 years since the last Sampler, the label's 40th release presents new label heads Giraffi Dog, returning after their recent "live" Multiverse EPs, here teaming up with GF Rich for a breaks anthem. Sub bass rising, the persistent build leads to piano before drop and Acid mayhem ensues, highlight why G Dog are such a producer to watch.

Label mainstay Alphonse returns, with White Pepper from the "Stolen Sunrise EP", here remixed by House stalwart Toby Tobias. Having released for a who's who of labels including REKIDS, ESP Institute, Delusions Of Grandeur and Futureboogie, the illusion these past years of who is Alphonse can finally revealed as Toby himself. The remix of his alter ego takes the 'Balearics' of the original and adds breaks and 303, all retaining a laid back feeling for summers return.

On the flip, the label welcomes rising star, Remotif. With a series of EPs showcasing a growing talent, his recent Coymix release sealed the deal. Here, his comedically titled Beam Me Up Softwoiii belies a party anthem, where breaks and arps rise in unison before an Aphex sunrise burst, drops and heads down in pure dance.

Akio Nagase returns to close with another of his Japanese folk meets lilting 303 Acid House. An Okinawa traditional folk song, conveying a life lesson, here to Hosenka flower is laid across slo-mo acid bubbles to quirkily and perfectly complete another 10th release of the Especial path.

Elissa Suckdog's first full release arrives via her own imprint, the counterpart to Klon Dump's KLON series. DOG001 follows her Girls/Dudes Try white label edits and features an itchy A and a soothing B, watched over by F1's last female competitor Giovanni Amati and historian Michael Parenti.

Future Jazzers, notorious experimentalists and outfield eccentrics stumble onto the dancefloor. In the 90s. In the UK.

From an electronic music perspective, the period 1992 to 1996 in the UK that this compilation celebrates, was one of dizzying sonic diversification.

It was also a particularly turbulent time in the UK, not only politically and economically, but also culturally too. Economic catastrophe in ‘92 was followed by widespread poverty, a cost of living crisis and countless political scandals. Meanwhile, John Major’s Tory government pandered to its political base via unpleasant, authoritarian legislation that seemingly sought to crush rave culture, alternative lifestyles, and traveller communities. The UK was not so much a ‘Happy Land’ – to quote the name of this compilation – as an angry and divided one. Sounds familiar, doesn’t it?

Throughout, the music created by producers based across these Isles remained uniquely British, speeding up a process begun in the late 1980s through the emergence of street soul, bleep & bass and breakbeat hardcore – musical styles whose roots in multicultural inner-city communities made them distinctly different from the Black American sounds that had inspired their creators. It was here, rather than in the indie pubs of Camden, that real musical revolutions were taking place.

This deep diving selection brings together some truly adventurous and original electronic music from this period, much of it very hard to find. Major label outings connect with white label oddities with ease. Perhaps it could even be argued that many of these unearthed gems fit more easily into DJ sets in 2023 than they ever did at the time. The off-kilter swing of Richard D James’ obscure and highly sought after Strider B outing, ‘Bradley’s Robot’ is joined by further rare cuts from Cabaret Voltaire and the Black Dog, and artists as diverse as Ultramarine, Herbert, Fretless AZM, and Radioactive Lamb, amongst others.

This collection has been lovingly selected, compiled and mastered for maximum sonic playback. This very special release boasts sublime pastoral themed artwork, as well as informative and passionate liner notes by celebrated music scribe Matt Anniss (‘Join The Future’).

This 40 year anniversary collection traces Brother Culture's career and includes some of his biggest hits, with remastered versions of these classics. The album includes his hits Jump Up Pon It (25 million streams), Supanova (15 million streams), My Selecta (2 million streams), and some of his most listened-to tracks ever released on vinyl.

A composition simply means things being put together. In music, we usually think of composition as a classical idea. But in recent years, the possibilities of what ‘composing’ can be, have dramatically increased. Based in Oslo, Norway, Deathprod (aka Helge Sten) has been making his own forms of music with no compromise since the early 90s. His specialty is a deeply atmospheric, grainy minimalism that slows time down and explores the very particles of sound itself. This music can sound forbidding and alien at first, but compared to his more brutal output, it’s an extraordinarily close and intimate experience. The first new Deathprod studio project since 2019’s OCCULTING DISK, Compositions is the result of an intense period at his legendary Audio Virus Lab studio in central Oslo. All tracks are released in chronological order – in other words, the order in which they were recorded. Helge used a personal, unique combination of obsolete digital audio processors and sound generators, combined with his own secret-sauce tuning system. Like gazing at the wonders revealed by an electron microscope with Helge compositional control directs your attention to a succession of ever more spellbinding details and textures. Helge adopted the Deathprod alias in 1991. A complex array of homemade electronics, samplers, sound processing and analogue effects – cumulatively known as the ‘Audio Virus’ – combined with obsolete samplers and playback devices, to distort and transform sounds into unrecognizable relatives of their former selves. On the new album Compositions, the virus has evolved into even more fascinating and kaleidoscopic new strains. Electronically generated sounds vibrate and tremble like undiscovered metals ringing and resonating together. Sonic forms attract or repel each other as if under the influence of a strange magnetism. None of the tracks are over four minutes, but no way are these ‘miniatures’. Each one contains its own fully-formed galaxy of tones and clusters, while all tracks audibly belong in the same universe. These are 17 compositions in search of a sonic ideal. His off-grid audio control centre created a parallel acoustic universe which he filled with mutated samples and electronic textures. Even the gaps between the tracks are part of that universe. Helge left the almost silent, twitching crackles of his snoozing analogue gear intact, ensuring a smoother transition between them. Helge is continually striving to find new parameters and possibilities for what music can be – what you can affect with the medium of sound. From the intricate homemade miniatures of Treetop Drive to the bonecrushing electronic barrage of Morals and Dogma and OCCULTING DISK, the different sides of Deathprod are all products of the same obsessive focus and self-discipline in pursuit of sonic exploration. His Compositions are private rather than public music: like introspective chamber or solo compositions instead of the more strident, outward-looking tones of a symphony. Helge is a founder of Norwegian improvising group Supersilent and has produced records by Motorpsycho, Susanna, Jenny Hval, Arve Henriksen and others. He recently composed music for Harry Partch’s legendary instruments, which can be heard on Sow Your Gold in the White Foliated Earth, released in 2022 on Smalltown Supersound.

Come On Die Young, Mogwai’s iconic second album, is to be reissued on coloured vinyl. Presented in a gatefold sleeve with original artwork, the white vinyl will also come with a digital download code.

2023 black repress !

Yung Lean releases his new album Starz via YEAR0001. The album is Lean’s seventh full-length following 2018’s Poison Ivy and includes previously released singles “Boylife in EU,” “Violence,” and “Pikachu.” Much like Lean’s overall catalog, the new album feels almost impossibly cohesive. In part, that’s thanks to production entirely from longtime collaborator whitearmor - they kept the sessions intimate and secluded, recording partly in an old ballet hall in the Swedish countryside. But this is an album only Lean could make, as a young veteran, with a sound and career that’s well-entrenched globally but still doggedly, even perplexingly, on its own planet.

In 1997, after a lengthy hiatus, Echo & The Bunnymen returned to the fore with 'Evergreen', revealing the brighter side of the band, and standing up with any of their earlier work.The self-produced album was recorded at The Doghouse in Henley-On-Thames with additional strings, horns and vocal arrangements recorded at Abbey Road.

The album saw the band rightfully return to the UK album charts at #8, with 3 singles ('Nothing Lasts Forever', 'I Want to Be There When You Come' and 'Don't Let It Get You Down') entering the UK top 50. 'Nothing Lasts Forever' (with backing vocals and tambourine by Liam Gallagher) has grown to become one of the band's most enduring and well-loved songs - a UK Top 10 and a fan favourite to this day.

To celebrate its 25 year anniversary, London Records releases 'Evergreen' on vinyl for the very first time, with a limited first pressing in solid white vinyl. There is also a new remastered and expanded 2 CD edition, taking in studio b-sides, live and acoustic sessions and previously unreleased versions across 33 tracks.

Fronted by brothers Peter O'Doherty and Reg Mombassa, Dog Trumpet have been playing, writing and recording their
music since the early 90s. Reg and Pete were founding members of iconic Australian band Mental As Anything, who hit
the charts around the world with “Live It Up”. The band made a mark with their left field mix of music, art, video and
humour and leading eventually to ARIA awards and induction into the Hall of Fame in 2009.
• Recorded and produced by Peter at home in his 'South Road' studio, the brothers have created an inventive and original
body of work distinguished by an eccentric and offbeat harmonic warmth and melodic drive propelled by Reg's distinctive
slide guitar and Peter's elegant acoustic guitar and mandolin. Their poetic, yet at times absurdist lyrics are set against a
sonic backdrop that could loosely be described as a meld of rock and roll, psychedelic folk, country and semi-abstract
blues.
• “Shadowland” is the duo’s brand new album, recorded earlier this year, with the guys playing all the instruments
themselves. Amidst a group of songs with all sorts of subject matter (including the sheep of New Zealand, and Nina Simone)
is the very direct “F***ing Idiots”, about the human race and its continuing desire to wage wars.
• The inner sleeve features all the lyrics and wonderful paintings by both Reg and Peter.

As the sun sets on a quaint East Nashville house, a young man bares a piece of his soul. Facing the camera, sporting a silky suit jacket/shirt/slacks/fingerless gloves ensemble that announces "singer" before he's even opened his mouth, Lee Tracy Johnson settles onto his stage, the front yard. He sways to the dirge-like drum machine pulse of a synth-soaked slow jam, extends his arms as if gaining his balance, and croons in affecting, fragile earnest, "I need your love… oh baby…"

Dogs in the yard next door begin barking. A mysterious cardboard robot figure, beamed in from galaxies unknown and affixed to a tree, is less vocal. Lee doesn't acknowledge either's presence. He's busy feeling it, arms and hands gesticulating. His voice rises in falsetto over the now-quiet dogs, over the ambient noise from the street that seeps into the handheld camcorder's microphone, over the recording of his own voice played back from a boombox off-camera. After six minutes the single, continuous shot ends. In this intimate creative universe there are no re-takes. There are many more music videos to shoot, and as Lee later puts it, "The first time you do it is actually the best. Because you can never get that again. You expressing yourself from within."

"I Need Your Love" dates from a lost heyday. From some time in the '80s or early '90s, when Lee Tracy (as he was known in performance) and his music partner/producer/manager Isaac Manning committed hours upon hours of their sonic and visual ideas to tape. Embracing drum machines and synthesizers – electronics that made their personal futurism palpable – they recorded exclusively at home, live in a room into a simple cassette deck. Soul, funk, electro and new wave informed their songs, yet Lee and Isaac eschewed the confinement of conventional categories and genres, preferring to let experimentation guide them.

"Anytime somebody put out a new record they had the same instruments or the same sound," explains Isaac. "So I basically wanted to find something that's really gonna stand out away from all of the rest of 'em." Their ethos meant that every idea they came up with was at least worth trying: echoed out half-rapped exhortations over frantic techno-style beats, gospel synth soul, modal electro-funk, oddball pop reinterpretations, emo AOR balladry, nods to Prince and the Fat Boys, or arrangements that might collapse mid-song into a mess of arcade game-ish blips before rallying to reach the finish line. All of it conjoined by consistent tape hiss, and most vitally, Lee's chameleonic voice, which managed to wildly shape shift and still evoke something sincere – whether toggling between falsetto and tenor exalting Jesus's return, or punctuating a melismatic romantic adlib with a succinct, "We all know how it feels to be alone."

"People think we went to a studio," says Isaac derisively. "We never went to no studio. We didn't have the money to go to no studio! We did this stuff at home. I shot videos in my front yard with whatever we could to get things together." Sometimes Isaac would just put on an instrumental record, be it "Planet Rock" or "Don't Cry For Me Argentina" (from Evita), press "record," and let Lee improvise over it, yielding peculiar love songs, would-be patriotic anthems, or Elvis Presley or Marilyn Monroe tributes. Technical limitations and a lack of professional polish never dissuaded them. They believed they were onto something.

"That struggle," Isaac says, "made that sound sound good to me."

In the parlance of modern music criticism Lee and Isaac's dizzying DIY efforts would inevitably be described as "outsider." But "outsider" carries the burden of untold additional layers of meaning if you're Black and from the South, creating on a budget, and trying to get someone, anyone within the country music capital of the world to take your vision seriously. "What category should we put it in?" Isaac asks rhetorically. "I don't know. All I know is feeling. I ain't gonna name it nothing. It's music. If it grabs your soul and touch your heart that's what it basically is supposed to do."

=

Born in 1963, the baby boy of nine siblings, Lee Tracy spent his earliest years living amidst the shotgun houses on Nashville's south side. "We was poor, man!" he says, recalling the outhouse his family used for a bathroom and the blocks of ice they kept in the kitchen to chill perishables. "But I actually don't think I really realized I was in poverty until I got grown and started thinking about it." Lee's mom worked at the Holiday Inn; his dad did whatever he had to do, from selling fruit from a horse drawn cart to bootlegging. "We didn't have much," Lee continues, "but my mother and my father got us the things we needed, the clothes on our back." By the end of the decade with the city's urban renewal programs razing entire neighborhoods to accommodate construction of the Interstate, the family moved to Edgehill Projects. Lee remembers music and art as a constant source of inspiration for he and his brothers and sisters – especially after seeing the Jackson 5 perform on Ed Sullivan. "As a small child I just knew that was what I wanted to do."

His older brother Don began musically mentoring him, introducing Lee to a variety of instruments and sounds. "He would never play one particular type of music, like R&B," says Lee. "I was surrounded by jazz, hard rock and roll, easy listening, gospel, reggae, country music; I mean I was a sponge absorbing all of that." Lee taught himself to play drums by beating on cardboard boxes, gaining a rep around the way for his timekeeping, and his singing voice. Emulating his favorites, Earth Wind & Fire and Cameo, he formed groups with other kids with era-evocative band names like Concept and TNT Connection, and emerged as the leader of disciplined rehearsals. "I made them practice," says Lee. "We practiced and practiced and practiced. Because I wanted that perfection." By high school the most accomplished of these bands would take top prize in a prominent local talent show. It was a big moment for Lee, and he felt ready to take things to the next level. But his band-mates had other ideas.

"I don't know what happened," he says, still miffed at the memory. "It must have blew they mind after we won and people started showing notice, because it's like everybody quit! I was like, where the hell did everybody go?" Lee had always made a point of interrogating prospective musicians about their intentions before joining his groups: were they really serious or just looking for a way to pick up girls? Now he understood even more the importance of finding a collaborator just as committed to the music as he was.

=

Isaac Manning had spent much of his life immersed in music and the arts – singing in the church choir with his family on Nashville's north side, writing, painting, dancing, and working various gigs within the entertainment industry. After serving in the armed forces, in the early '70s he ran The Teenage Place, a music and performance venue that catered to the local youth. But he was forced out of town when word of one of his recreational routines created a stir beyond the safe haven of his bohemian circles.

"I was growing marijuana," Isaac explains. "It wasn't no business, I was smoking it myself… I would put marijuana in scrambled eggs, cornbread and stuff." His weed use originated as a form of self-medication to combat severe tooth pain. But when he began sharing it with some of the other young people he hung out with, some of who just so happened to be the kids of Nashville politicians, the cops came calling. "When I got busted," he remembers, "they were talking about how they were gonna get rid of me because they didn't want me saying nothing about they children because of the politics and stuff. So I got my family, took two raggedy cars, and left Nashville and went to Vegas."

Out in the desert, Isaac happened to meet Chubby Checker of "The Twist" fame while the singer was gigging at The Flamingo. Impressed by Isaac's zeal, Checker invited him to go on the road with him as his tour manager/roadie/valet. The experience gave Isaac a window into a part of the entertainment world he'd never encountered – a glimpse of what a true pop act's audience looked like. "Chubby Checker, none of his shows were played for Black folks," he remembers. "All his gigs were done at high-class white people areas." Returning home after a few years with Chubby, Isaac was properly motivated to make it in Music City. He began writing songs and scouting around Nashville for local talent anywhere he could find it with an expressed goal: "Find someone who can deliver your songs the way you want 'em delivered and make people feel what you want them to feel."

One day while walking through Edgehill Projects Isaac heard someone playing the drums in a way that made him stop and take notice. "The music was so tight, just the drums made me feel like, oh I'm-a find this person," he recalls. "So I circled through the projects until I found who it was.

"That's how I met him – Lee Tracy. When I found him and he started singing and stuff, I said, ohhh, this is somebody different."

=

Theirs was a true complementary partnership: young Lee possessed the raw talent, the older Isaac the belief. "He's really the only one besides my brother and my family that really seen the potential in me," says Lee. "He made me see that I could do it."

Isaac long being a night owl, his house also made for a fertile collaborative environment – a space where there always seemed to be a new piece of his visual art on display: paintings, illustrations, and dolls and figures (including an enigmatic cardboard robot). Lee and Issac would hang out together and talk, listen to music, conjure ideas, and smoke the herb Isaac had resumed growing in his yard. "It got to where I could trust him, he could trust me," Isaac says of their bond. They also worked together for hours on drawings, spreading larges rolls of paper on the walls and sketching faces with abstract patterns and imagery: alien-like beings, tri-horned horse heads, inverted Janus-like characters where one visage blurred into the other.

Soon it became apparent that they didn't need other collaborators; self-sufficiency was the natural way forward. At Isaac's behest Lee, already fed up with dealing with band musicians, began playing around with a poly-sonic Yamaha keyboard at the local music store. "It had everything on it – trumpet, bass, drums, organ," remembers Lee. "And that's when I started recording my own stuff."

The technology afforded Lee the flexibility and independence he craved, setting him on a path other bedroom musicians and producers around the world were simultaneously following through the '80s into the early '90s. Saving up money from day jobs, he eventually supplemented the Yamaha Isaac had gotten him with Roland and Casio drum machines and a Moog. Lee was living in an apartment in Hillside at that point caring for his dad, who'd been partially paralyzed since early in life. In the evenings up in his second floor room, the music put him in a zone where he could tune out everything and lose himself in his ideas.

"Oh I loved it," he recalls. "I would really experiment with the instruments and use a lot of different sound effects. I was looking for something nobody else had. I wanted something totally different. And once I found the sound I was looking for, I would just smoke me a good joint and just let it go, hit the record button." More potent a creative stimulant than even Isaac's weed was the holistic flow and spontaneity of recording. Between sessions at Isaac's place and Lee's apartment, their volume of output quickly ballooned.

"We was always recording," says Lee. "That's why we have so much music. Even when I went to Isaac's and we start creating, I get home, my mind is racing, I gotta start creating, creating, creating. I remember there were times when I took a 90-minute tape from front to back and just filled it up."

"We never practiced," says Isaac. "See, that was just so odd about the whole thing. I could relate to him, and tell him about the songs I had ideas for and everything and stuff. And then he would bring it back or whatever, and we'd get together and put it down." Once the taskmaster hell bent on rehearsing, Lee had flipped a full 180. Perfection was no longer an aspiration, but the enemy of inspiration.

"I seen where practicing and practicing got me," says Lee. "A lot of musicians you get to playing and they gotta stop, they have to analyze the music. But while you analyzing you losing a lot of the greatness of what you creating. Stop analyzing what you play, just play! And it'll all take shape."

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"I hope you understood the beginning of the record because this was invented from a dream I had today… (You tell me, I'll tell you, we'll figure it out together)" – Lee Tracy and Isaac Manning, "Hope You Understand"

Lee lets loose a maniacal cackle when he acknowledges that the material that he and Isaac recorded was by anyone's estimation pretty out there. It's the same laugh that commences "Hope You Understand" – a chaotic transmission that encapsulates the duality at the heart of their music: a stated desire to reach people and a compulsion to go as leftfield as they saw fit.

"We just did it," says Lee. "We cut the music on and cut loose. I don't sit around and write. I do it by listening, get a feeling, play the music, and the lyrics and stuff just come out of me."

The approach proved adaptable to interpreting other artists' material. While recording a cover of Whitney Houston's pop ballad "Saving All My Love For You," Lee played Whitney's version in his headphones as he laid down his own vocals – partially following the lyrics, partially using them as a departure point. The end result is barely recognizable compared with the original, Lee and Isaac having switched up the time signature and reinvented the melody along the way towards morphing a slick mainstream radio standard into something that sounds solely their own.

"I really used that song to get me started," says Lee. "Then I said, well I need something else, something is missing. Something just came over me. That's when I came up with 'Is It What You Want.'"

The song would become the centerpiece of Lee and Isaac's repertoire. Pushed along by a percolating metronomic Rhythm King style beat somewhere between a military march and a samba, "Is It What You Want" finds Lee pleading the sincerity of his commitment to a potential love interest embellished by vocal tics and hiccups subtlely reminiscent of his childhood hero MJ. Absent chord changes, only synth riffs gliding in and out like apparitions, the song achieves a lingering lo-fi power that leaves you feeling like it's still playing, somewhere, even after the fade out.

"I don't know, it's like a real spiritual song," Lee reflects. "But it's not just spiritual. To me the more I listen to it it's like about everything that you do in your everyday life, period. Is it what you want? Do you want a car or you don't want a car? Do you want Jesus or do you want the Devil? It's basically asking you the question. Can't nobody answer the question but you yourself."

In 1989 Lee won a lawsuit stemming from injuries sustained from a fight he'd gotten into. He took part of the settlement money and with Isaac pressed up "Saving All My Love For You" b/w "Is It What You Want" as a 45 single. Isaac christened the label One Chance Records. "Because that's all we wanted," he says with a laugh, "one chance."

Isaac sent the record out to radio stations and major labels, hoping for it to make enough noise to get picked up nationally. But the response he and Lee were hoping for never materialized. According to Isaac the closest the single got to getting played on the radio is when a disk jock from a local station made a highly unusual announcement on air: "The dude said on the radio, 107.5 – 'We are not gonna play 'Is It What You Want.' We cracked up! Wow, that's deep.

"It was a whole racist thing that was going on," he reflects. "So we just looked over and kept on going. That was it. That was about the way it goes… If you were Black and you were living in Nashville and stuff, that's the way you got treated." Isaac already knew as much from all the times he'd brought he and Lee's tapes (even their cache of country music tunes) over to Music Row to try to drum up interest to no avail.

"Isaac, he really worked his ass off," says Lee. "He probably been to every record place down on Music Row." Nashville's famed recording and music business corridor wasn't but a few blocks from where Lee grew up. Close enough, he remembers, for him to ride his bike along its back alleys and stumble upon the occasional random treasure, like a discarded box of harmonicas. Getting in through the front door, however, still felt a world away.

"I just don't think at the time our music fell into a category for them," he concedes. "It was before its time."

=

Lee stopped making music some time in the latter part of the '90s, around the time his mom passed away and life became increasingly tough to manage. "When my mother died I had a nervous breakdown," he says, "So I shut down for a long time. I was in such a sadness frame of mind. That's why nobody seen me. I had just disappeared off the map." He fell out of touch with Isaac, and in an indication of just how bad things had gotten for him, lost track of all the recordings they'd made together. Music became a distant memory.

Fortunately, Isaac kept the faith. In a self-published collection of his poetry – paeans to some of his favorite entertainment and public figures entitled Friends and Dick Clark – he'd written that he believed "music has a life of its own." But his prescience and presence of mind were truly manifested in the fact that he kept an archive of he and Lee's work. As perfectly imperfect as "Is It What You Want" now sounds in a post-Personal Space world, Lee and Isaac's lone official release was in fact just a taste. The bulk of the Is It What You Want album is culled from the pair's essentially unheard home recordings – complete songs, half-realized experiments, Isaac's blue monologues and pronouncements et al – compiled, mixed and programmed in the loose and impulsive creative spirit of their regular get-togethers from decades ago. The rest of us, it seems, may have finally caught up to them.

On the prospect of at long last reaching a wider audience, Isaac says simply, "I been trying for a long time, it feels good." Ever the survivor, he adds, "The only way I know how to make it to the top is to keep climbing. If one leg break on the ladder, hey, you gotta fix it and keep on going… That's where I be at. I'll kill death to make it out there."

For Lee it all feels akin to a personal resurrection: "It's like I was in a tomb and the tomb was opened and I'm back… Man, it feels so great. I feel like I'm gonna jump out of my skin." Success at this stage of his life, he realizes, probably means something different than what it did back when he was singing and dancing in Isaac's front yard. "What I really mean by 'making it,'" he explains isn't just the music being heard but, "the story being told."

Occasionally Lee will pull up "Is It What You Want" on YouTube on his phone, put on his headphones, and listen. He remembers the first time he heard his recorded voice. How surreal it was, how he thought to himself, "Is that really me?" What would he say to that younger version of himself now?

"I would probably tell myself, hang in there, don't give up. Keep striving for the goal. And everything will work out."

Despite what's printed on the record label, sometimes you do get more than one chance.

Nachdem CHARLOTTE WESSELS 2021 mit ihrer elektrisierenden Song-Sammlung Tales From Six Feet Under den Grundstein für ihre vielversprechende Solo-Karriere gelegt hat, veröffentlicht die ehemalige DELAIN-Frontfrau und Songwriterin nun den Nachfolger,
Tales From Six Feet Under Vol II, der am 7. Oktober 2022 über Napalm Records erscheinen wird.

Wie bereits auf dem Erstwerk wurden alle Instrumente von Wessels selbst eingespielt oder programmiert und in Eigenregie in ihrem eigenen Six Feet Under Studio produziert. Unterstützt wurde sie dabei von ihrer loyalen Patreon-Community. Über diese Plattform veröffentlicht Wessels jeden Monat einen neuen Song und Tales From Six Feet Under Vol II ist eine Sammlung aus den Releases des letzten Jahres. Wessels Stil reicht dabei von melancholischem Alternative Pop bis hin zu synthielastigem Rock und verbindet atmosphärische Elemente mit härteren Klängen, wobei sie Genregrenzen mit Leichtigkeit überschreitet.

Dieser vielschichtige Reichtum an Songs beweist Wessels außergewöhnliche Fähigkeit, aufrichtige Gefühle und wahre Emotionen durch ihre Kunst auszudrücken und verschiedene Stile auf eindrucksvolle Weise miteinander zu kombinieren. Tales From Six Feet Under Vol. II ist ein Zauber seinesgleichen und zur
selben Zeit der Vorbote für alle weiteren Projekte von CHARLOTTE WESSELS. Hauptzielgruppe: Delain, Kamelot, Dark Sarah, Within Temptation, Epica, Allisa White-Gluz

As the sun sets on a quaint East Nashville house, a young man bares a piece of his soul. Facing the camera, sporting a silky suit jacket/shirt/slacks/fingerless gloves ensemble that announces "singer" before he's even opened his mouth, Lee Tracy Johnson settles onto his stage, the front yard. He sways to the dirge-like drum machine pulse of a synth-soaked slow jam, extends his arms as if gaining his balance, and croons in affecting, fragile earnest, "I need your love… oh baby…"

Dogs in the yard next door begin barking. A mysterious cardboard robot figure, beamed in from galaxies unknown and affixed to a tree, is less vocal. Lee doesn't acknowledge either's presence. He's busy feeling it, arms and hands gesticulating. His voice rises in falsetto over the now-quiet dogs, over the ambient noise from the street that seeps into the handheld camcorder's microphone, over the recording of his own voice played back from a boombox off-camera. After six minutes the single, continuous shot ends. In this intimate creative universe there are no re-takes. There are many more music videos to shoot, and as Lee later puts it, "The first time you do it is actually the best. Because you can never get that again. You expressing yourself from within."

"I Need Your Love" dates from a lost heyday. From some time in the '80s or early '90s, when Lee Tracy (as he was known in performance) and his music partner/producer/manager Isaac Manning committed hours upon hours of their sonic and visual ideas to tape. Embracing drum machines and synthesizers – electronics that made their personal futurism palpable – they recorded exclusively at home, live in a room into a simple cassette deck. Soul, funk, electro and new wave informed their songs, yet Lee and Isaac eschewed the confinement of conventional categories and genres, preferring to let experimentation guide them.

"Anytime somebody put out a new record they had the same instruments or the same sound," explains Isaac. "So I basically wanted to find something that's really gonna stand out away from all of the rest of 'em." Their ethos meant that every idea they came up with was at least worth trying: echoed out half-rapped exhortations over frantic techno-style beats, gospel synth soul, modal electro-funk, oddball pop reinterpretations, emo AOR balladry, nods to Prince and the Fat Boys, or arrangements that might collapse mid-song into a mess of arcade game-ish blips before rallying to reach the finish line. All of it conjoined by consistent tape hiss, and most vitally, Lee's chameleonic voice, which managed to wildly shape shift and still evoke something sincere – whether toggling between falsetto and tenor exalting Jesus's return, or punctuating a melismatic romantic adlib with a succinct, "We all know how it feels to be alone."

"People think we went to a studio," says Isaac derisively. "We never went to no studio. We didn't have the money to go to no studio! We did this stuff at home. I shot videos in my front yard with whatever we could to get things together." Sometimes Isaac would just put on an instrumental record, be it "Planet Rock" or "Don't Cry For Me Argentina" (from Evita), press "record," and let Lee improvise over it, yielding peculiar love songs, would-be patriotic anthems, or Elvis Presley or Marilyn Monroe tributes. Technical limitations and a lack of professional polish never dissuaded them. They believed they were onto something.

"That struggle," Isaac says, "made that sound sound good to me."

In the parlance of modern music criticism Lee and Isaac's dizzying DIY efforts would inevitably be described as "outsider." But "outsider" carries the burden of untold additional layers of meaning if you're Black and from the South, creating on a budget, and trying to get someone, anyone within the country music capital of the world to take your vision seriously. "What category should we put it in?" Isaac asks rhetorically. "I don't know. All I know is feeling. I ain't gonna name it nothing. It's music. If it grabs your soul and touch your heart that's what it basically is supposed to do."

=

Born in 1963, the baby boy of nine siblings, Lee Tracy spent his earliest years living amidst the shotgun houses on Nashville's south side. "We was poor, man!" he says, recalling the outhouse his family used for a bathroom and the blocks of ice they kept in the kitchen to chill perishables. "But I actually don't think I really realized I was in poverty until I got grown and started thinking about it." Lee's mom worked at the Holiday Inn; his dad did whatever he had to do, from selling fruit from a horse drawn cart to bootlegging. "We didn't have much," Lee continues, "but my mother and my father got us the things we needed, the clothes on our back." By the end of the decade with the city's urban renewal programs razing entire neighborhoods to accommodate construction of the Interstate, the family moved to Edgehill Projects. Lee remembers music and art as a constant source of inspiration for he and his brothers and sisters – especially after seeing the Jackson 5 perform on Ed Sullivan. "As a small child I just knew that was what I wanted to do."

His older brother Don began musically mentoring him, introducing Lee to a variety of instruments and sounds. "He would never play one particular type of music, like R&B," says Lee. "I was surrounded by jazz, hard rock and roll, easy listening, gospel, reggae, country music; I mean I was a sponge absorbing all of that." Lee taught himself to play drums by beating on cardboard boxes, gaining a rep around the way for his timekeeping, and his singing voice. Emulating his favorites, Earth Wind & Fire and Cameo, he formed groups with other kids with era-evocative band names like Concept and TNT Connection, and emerged as the leader of disciplined rehearsals. "I made them practice," says Lee. "We practiced and practiced and practiced. Because I wanted that perfection." By high school the most accomplished of these bands would take top prize in a prominent local talent show. It was a big moment for Lee, and he felt ready to take things to the next level. But his band-mates had other ideas.

"I don't know what happened," he says, still miffed at the memory. "It must have blew they mind after we won and people started showing notice, because it's like everybody quit! I was like, where the hell did everybody go?" Lee had always made a point of interrogating prospective musicians about their intentions before joining his groups: were they really serious or just looking for a way to pick up girls? Now he understood even more the importance of finding a collaborator just as committed to the music as he was.

=

Isaac Manning had spent much of his life immersed in music and the arts – singing in the church choir with his family on Nashville's north side, writing, painting, dancing, and working various gigs within the entertainment industry. After serving in the armed forces, in the early '70s he ran The Teenage Place, a music and performance venue that catered to the local youth. But he was forced out of town when word of one of his recreational routines created a stir beyond the safe haven of his bohemian circles.

"I was growing marijuana," Isaac explains. "It wasn't no business, I was smoking it myself… I would put marijuana in scrambled eggs, cornbread and stuff." His weed use originated as a form of self-medication to combat severe tooth pain. But when he began sharing it with some of the other young people he hung out with, some of who just so happened to be the kids of Nashville politicians, the cops came calling. "When I got busted," he remembers, "they were talking about how they were gonna get rid of me because they didn't want me saying nothing about they children because of the politics and stuff. So I got my family, took two raggedy cars, and left Nashville and went to Vegas."

Out in the desert, Isaac happened to meet Chubby Checker of "The Twist" fame while the singer was gigging at The Flamingo. Impressed by Isaac's zeal, Checker invited him to go on the road with him as his tour manager/roadie/valet. The experience gave Isaac a window into a part of the entertainment world he'd never encountered – a glimpse of what a true pop act's audience looked like. "Chubby Checker, none of his shows were played for Black folks," he remembers. "All his gigs were done at high-class white people areas." Returning home after a few years with Chubby, Isaac was properly motivated to make it in Music City. He began writing songs and scouting around Nashville for local talent anywhere he could find it with an expressed goal: "Find someone who can deliver your songs the way you want 'em delivered and make people feel what you want them to feel."

One day while walking through Edgehill Projects Isaac heard someone playing the drums in a way that made him stop and take notice. "The music was so tight, just the drums made me feel like, oh I'm-a find this person," he recalls. "So I circled through the projects until I found who it was.

"That's how I met him – Lee Tracy. When I found him and he started singing and stuff, I said, ohhh, this is somebody different."

=

Theirs was a true complementary partnership: young Lee possessed the raw talent, the older Isaac the belief. "He's really the only one besides my brother and my family that really seen the potential in me," says Lee. "He made me see that I could do it."

Isaac long being a night owl, his house also made for a fertile collaborative environment – a space where there always seemed to be a new piece of his visual art on display: paintings, illustrations, and dolls and figures (including an enigmatic cardboard robot). Lee and Issac would hang out together and talk, listen to music, conjure ideas, and smoke the herb Isaac had resumed growing in his yard. "It got to where I could trust him, he could trust me," Isaac says of their bond. They also worked together for hours on drawings, spreading larges rolls of paper on the walls and sketching faces with abstract patterns and imagery: alien-like beings, tri-horned horse heads, inverted Janus-like characters where one visage blurred into the other.

Soon it became apparent that they didn't need other collaborators; self-sufficiency was the natural way forward. At Isaac's behest Lee, already fed up with dealing with band musicians, began playing around with a poly-sonic Yamaha keyboard at the local music store. "It had everything on it – trumpet, bass, drums, organ," remembers Lee. "And that's when I started recording my own stuff."

The technology afforded Lee the flexibility and independence he craved, setting him on a path other bedroom musicians and producers around the world were simultaneously following through the '80s into the early '90s. Saving up money from day jobs, he eventually supplemented the Yamaha Isaac had gotten him with Roland and Casio drum machines and a Moog. Lee was living in an apartment in Hillside at that point caring for his dad, who'd been partially paralyzed since early in life. In the evenings up in his second floor room, the music put him in a zone where he could tune out everything and lose himself in his ideas.

"Oh I loved it," he recalls. "I would really experiment with the instruments and use a lot of different sound effects. I was looking for something nobody else had. I wanted something totally different. And once I found the sound I was looking for, I would just smoke me a good joint and just let it go, hit the record button." More potent a creative stimulant than even Isaac's weed was the holistic flow and spontaneity of recording. Between sessions at Isaac's place and Lee's apartment, their volume of output quickly ballooned.

"We was always recording," says Lee. "That's why we have so much music. Even when I went to Isaac's and we start creating, I get home, my mind is racing, I gotta start creating, creating, creating. I remember there were times when I took a 90-minute tape from front to back and just filled it up."

"We never practiced," says Isaac. "See, that was just so odd about the whole thing. I could relate to him, and tell him about the songs I had ideas for and everything and stuff. And then he would bring it back or whatever, and we'd get together and put it down." Once the taskmaster hell bent on rehearsing, Lee had flipped a full 180. Perfection was no longer an aspiration, but the enemy of inspiration.

"I seen where practicing and practicing got me," says Lee. "A lot of musicians you get to playing and they gotta stop, they have to analyze the music. But while you analyzing you losing a lot of the greatness of what you creating. Stop analyzing what you play, just play! And it'll all take shape."

=

"I hope you understood the beginning of the record because this was invented from a dream I had today… (You tell me, I'll tell you, we'll figure it out together)" – Lee Tracy and Isaac Manning, "Hope You Understand"

Lee lets loose a maniacal cackle when he acknowledges that the material that he and Isaac recorded was by anyone's estimation pretty out there. It's the same laugh that commences "Hope You Understand" – a chaotic transmission that encapsulates the duality at the heart of their music: a stated desire to reach people and a compulsion to go as leftfield as they saw fit.

"We just did it," says Lee. "We cut the music on and cut loose. I don't sit around and write. I do it by listening, get a feeling, play the music, and the lyrics and stuff just come out of me."

The approach proved adaptable to interpreting other artists' material. While recording a cover of Whitney Houston's pop ballad "Saving All My Love For You," Lee played Whitney's version in his headphones as he laid down his own vocals – partially following the lyrics, partially using them as a departure point. The end result is barely recognizable compared with the original, Lee and Isaac having switched up the time signature and reinvented the melody along the way towards morphing a slick mainstream radio standard into something that sounds solely their own.

"I really used that song to get me started," says Lee. "Then I said, well I need something else, something is missing. Something just came over me. That's when I came up with 'Is It What You Want.'"

The song would become the centerpiece of Lee and Isaac's repertoire. Pushed along by a percolating metronomic Rhythm King style beat somewhere between a military march and a samba, "Is It What You Want" finds Lee pleading the sincerity of his commitment to a potential love interest embellished by vocal tics and hiccups subtlely reminiscent of his childhood hero MJ. Absent chord changes, only synth riffs gliding in and out like apparitions, the song achieves a lingering lo-fi power that leaves you feeling like it's still playing, somewhere, even after the fade out.

"I don't know, it's like a real spiritual song," Lee reflects. "But it's not just spiritual. To me the more I listen to it it's like about everything that you do in your everyday life, period. Is it what you want? Do you want a car or you don't want a car? Do you want Jesus or do you want the Devil? It's basically asking you the question. Can't nobody answer the question but you yourself."

In 1989 Lee won a lawsuit stemming from injuries sustained from a fight he'd gotten into. He took part of the settlement money and with Isaac pressed up "Saving All My Love For You" b/w "Is It What You Want" as a 45 single. Isaac christened the label One Chance Records. "Because that's all we wanted," he says with a laugh, "one chance."

Isaac sent the record out to radio stations and major labels, hoping for it to make enough noise to get picked up nationally. But the response he and Lee were hoping for never materialized. According to Isaac the closest the single got to getting played on the radio is when a disk jock from a local station made a highly unusual announcement on air: "The dude said on the radio, 107.5 – 'We are not gonna play 'Is It What You Want.' We cracked up! Wow, that's deep.

"It was a whole racist thing that was going on," he reflects. "So we just looked over and kept on going. That was it. That was about the way it goes… If you were Black and you were living in Nashville and stuff, that's the way you got treated." Isaac already knew as much from all the times he'd brought he and Lee's tapes (even their cache of country music tunes) over to Music Row to try to drum up interest to no avail.

"Isaac, he really worked his ass off," says Lee. "He probably been to every record place down on Music Row." Nashville's famed recording and music business corridor wasn't but a few blocks from where Lee grew up. Close enough, he remembers, for him to ride his bike along its back alleys and stumble upon the occasional random treasure, like a discarded box of harmonicas. Getting in through the front door, however, still felt a world away.

"I just don't think at the time our music fell into a category for them," he concedes. "It was before its time."

=

Lee stopped making music some time in the latter part of the '90s, around the time his mom passed away and life became increasingly tough to manage. "When my mother died I had a nervous breakdown," he says, "So I shut down for a long time. I was in such a sadness frame of mind. That's why nobody seen me. I had just disappeared off the map." He fell out of touch with Isaac, and in an indication of just how bad things had gotten for him, lost track of all the recordings they'd made together. Music became a distant memory.

Fortunately, Isaac kept the faith. In a self-published collection of his poetry – paeans to some of his favorite entertainment and public figures entitled Friends and Dick Clark – he'd written that he believed "music has a life of its own." But his prescience and presence of mind were truly manifested in the fact that he kept an archive of he and Lee's work. As perfectly imperfect as "Is It What You Want" now sounds in a post-Personal Space world, Lee and Isaac's lone official release was in fact just a taste. The bulk of the Is It What You Want album is culled from the pair's essentially unheard home recordings – complete songs, half-realized experiments, Isaac's blue monologues and pronouncements et al – compiled, mixed and programmed in the loose and impulsive creative spirit of their regular get-togethers from decades ago. The rest of us, it seems, may have finally caught up to them.

On the prospect of at long last reaching a wider audience, Isaac says simply, "I been trying for a long time, it feels good." Ever the survivor, he adds, "The only way I know how to make it to the top is to keep climbing. If one leg break on the ladder, hey, you gotta fix it and keep on going… That's where I be at. I'll kill death to make it out there."

For Lee it all feels akin to a personal resurrection: "It's like I was in a tomb and the tomb was opened and I'm back… Man, it feels so great. I feel like I'm gonna jump out of my skin." Success at this stage of his life, he realizes, probably means something different than what it did back when he was singing and dancing in Isaac's front yard. "What I really mean by 'making it,'" he explains isn't just the music being heard but, "the story being told."

Occasionally Lee will pull up "Is It What You Want" on YouTube on his phone, put on his headphones, and listen. He remembers the first time he heard his recorded voice. How surreal it was, how he thought to himself, "Is that really me?" What would he say to that younger version of himself now?

"I would probably tell myself, hang in there, don't give up. Keep striving for the goal. And everything will work out."

Despite what's printed on the record label, sometimes you do get more than one chance.

There is a moment on Sides, the new album from Richmond, Virginia-based duo Lean Year, in which a hospital room floor is filled with white chrysanthemums. This imagery, based on an opiate-induced hallucination experienced by vocalist Emilie Rex's mother as she recovered from surgery, is a perfect encapsulation of the band's second album: dreamlike and beautiful, yet burdened with cold, stark reality. Sides is a harrowing journey through realms of grief and memory, a meditation woven into a tapestry of synth pads, woodwinds, and Rex's instantly recognizable voice. The duo of Rex and Rick Alverson - who also works as a film director (The Mountain, Entertainment, The Comedy) - originally set out to write an album about conflict, but during the writing and recording process, they were confronted with a number of personal tragedies. Alverson lost both of his parents in rapid succession, Rex's mother received a cancer diagnosis, and the couple's beloved family dog, Orca, died. These events transformed the album into an exploration of loss - an attempt at processing the painful, complex, and private emotions that bubble to the surface when confronted with death. "We thought we'd do a concept album called Sides where we could reflect on all of the division in the world, and some in our own families, but then COVID transformed everything / everyone, and we suffered our own specific losses. The record became about loss and grief," Rex explains. "In this way, the title Sides was still appropriate: our individual grief and collective grief, the margins of before and after, the act and feeling of during and enduring. It felt like straddling a threshold between two opposing sides - the moment before conflict and the moment after it passes, life and death, the act of living and the memory of the act. Grief feels like a contention between what you knew and what you now know, and often both feel real and unreal at once." Sides - produced by Alverson alongside Erik Hall (In Tall Buildings) and featuring contributions from Elliot Bergman (Nomo, Wild Belle) and Joseph Shabason (Destroyer, The War on Drugs) - as a distinctly cinematic quality, perhaps due in part to Alverson's other career. Moments of jazz, slowcore, and dirgelike R&B find their way into the sorrowful, ambient suite, lulling the listener into a state of calm while the lyrics speak of ghosts, childhood, and mortality. Despite the gravity of the subject matter, Sides succeeds in mastering a balancing act between pathos and pop. Each song is indelible and haunting, with melodies that have the kind of broad appeal reminiscent of Karen Dalton, Aldous Harding, and FKA twigs.

The music on this long-awaited solo vinyl album by legendary tape artist Jérôme Noetinger was recorded live in the studio with no overdubs. Signals were sent through tube broadcast monitors and picked up with room microphones. Produced by Tobias Levin. Cover by Meeuw.

Long-time touchstone of international experimental music presents his monolithic (and first) solo vinyl »Sur Quelques Mondes Étranges« on Felix Kubin’s Gagarin Records. Jérôme Noetinger is known to most for the audio-visual trio Cellule d’Intervention Metamkine, alongside his countless recorded & live collaborations, compositions for radio & stage, and breathtaking multi-channel diffusions in the acousmatic tradition.

Discovering the ReVox B77 tape machine as his tool for live electro-acoustic music in 1987, Noetinger has doggedly investigated his instrument over 35 years, establishing him as a vital contemporary composer/performer of the medium. His work is radical and interrogatory, using a pan-historical array of analogue devices to construct soundworlds which sidestep digital monochrome, landing in a galaxy of simmering malfunction, dynamic physicality & rhythmic debris. Programming Le 102 in Grenoble for over a decade, as well as directing Metamkine distribution for over three, his encyclopaedic knowledge of manifold sonic traditions is on display here; unified by a staunch discipline, impressive dedication and flat rejection of empty trends.

The results synthesise his tireless timbral research into 11 striking sonic investigations which combine modern studio possibilities with years of performance experience worldwide. An ominous malaise hovers over proceedings; yet it never feels nihilistic, presenting solutions which electrify the listener with ecstatic discovery. The perceptual orchestration therein - from throwing our ears right against the body of the tape machine to flinging them into cavernous space alive with the aurally strange - is both delirious & calming. Noetinger is all too aware things are bad, but his drive for discovery and joyous belief in music somehow coruscates brilliantly through contemporary gloom.

Meticulously recorded & produced with Tobias Levin in Hamburg, Sur quelques mondes étranges presents a detailed & rich vocabulary both real & unreal: gesture & repetition, structure & collapse, familiar & uncanny all dance with each in the most pumping discothèque concrète in this universe. This is a powerful and exacting statement from an elegant composer & extraordinary musician who has humbly dedicated his life to his practice.

– Anthony Pateras

In 1994, Sator released the cover album "Barbie-Q-Killers" where the band made their own versions of "obscure" punk songs!
The album quickly became a favorite among the band's fans and the demand for a sequel have followed the band ever since.

Now, the wait is over! We proudly present the album "Return of The Barbie-Q-Killers" the long-awaited sequel, which is the band's tribute to bands like Redd, Kross, Devo, Blitzkrieg Bop, 999, The Waves, Pointed Sticks, The Undertones, The Boys, Zero boys, The Last, Unnatural Ax, White Flag, Screamers, The Go-Go's, The Young Lords, Darby Crash Band, The Normals and many more!

Saturday Night pogo rules OK!

Sound Like: the nomads, wilmer x, docenterna, ksmb, dundertåget, mimikry, the scams, union carbide productions

Deluxe reissue of their 1989 sophomore album pressed on pale blue colour vinyl.
Presented in a gloss laminated gatefold sleeve, which features the original LP plus a bonus disc with all the A and B sides, some compilation tracks and an outtake, plus a 12-page booklet containing previously unpublished lyrics and tons of contemporary reviews and photos.
Completely remastered for your listening pleasure.
In 1989, while the musical world was fêting serial-killer worshipping noise bands, white boys with dreadlocks and the first glimmers of techno, one band – The Wolfhounds – was describing the times and the country exactly as they were. Or at least as they saw it.
Well, not exactly. The privations of finding enough money to live on, a semi-permanent roof over your head and perhaps the hope of real change were all there in the lyrics along with the multitudinous shards of ideas in the music, both raging and reflective – but there was also a sense of magical realism and authentic personal circumstance imbued in it all.
Formed as a frantic noisy fusion of sixties garage and independent post-punk in Romford in 1984, by 1986 it was the band’s misfortunate to be corralled with the jangly and quirky bands of the era-defining C86 tape, given away free with the NME that year. The frustration of being lumped with the lumpen was already spilling over into a heightened creativity that would see the band release three LPs in 18 months, the first and perhaps most fully realised of which was Bright & Guilty.
The band’s sense of melody saw three singles taken off it, and all received plentiful radio play that resulted in enthusiastic audience responses when the band toured with My Bloody Valentine and the House of Love shortly after the LP came out. This renewed attention also saw them being threatened with legal action by the food company satirically targeted by one of the singles – Happy Shopper.
The band’s magpie listening habits also saw the first glimmers of an interest in sampling with the track Cottonmouth, hip hop in the drum rhythms of Invisible People and Son of Nothing, discordant post- hardcore in Non-specific Song and even percussive hints of Tom Waits’ Rain Dogs in Charterhouse.
The album’s lyrical themes have sustained the relevance of these 30-something year-old songs. The dictatorship of the class system over the economy is touched on in Charterhouse, the unfairness of housing policy in Rent Act and Red Tape Red Light, the desperation of not having enough money to even seek employment in Useless Second Cousin. But there is contemplation and mystery, too: Rope Swing’s nostalgia for pre-teen childhood, Invisible People’s detailing of intangible weaknesses.
Of all their peers, The Wolfhounds post-C86 output stands up straight and proud, and you’ll find echoes of their sound in Fontaines DC, Idles and many others – but not performed with the brashness, vigour and uniqueness of the originals.

Fantastic Negrito's upcoming album and short film "White Jesus Black
Problems" was inspired by a search into his ancestry where he found that
his 7th generation grandmother was a Scottish indentured servant who
entered into a common law marriage with an African American enslaved
man, his 7th generation grandfather, in open defiance of the racist laws of
1750's colonial Virginia
Their love story is a healing testament to standing up against inhumane and
brutal systems with love as your only weapon. Their perseverance is a lesson in
today's polarized society on the virtues of constant struggle in the face of
ignorance, fear, and violence, which is still present in the contemporary
embodiments of white supremacy, bigotry, and hatred. It's important to tell the
story of how those who suffered much greater indignities and violence than we
do in contemporary times were nonetheless able to preserve their humanity
through human connection and the determination to love. If they can do it in
1759, we can do it 2022.

Hip Hop Collected will take you on a musical journey through the history of hip hop. This 2LP covers the first 20 years of the genre, showcasing 25 early pioneers who participated in the rise of hip hop. This compilation features music from the new labels that started to rise from the underground scene, like Sugar Hill Records, Profile and of course Def Jam. Including artists that defined a genre, a lifestyle and most of all, artists that inspired millions of young kids with both socially critical lyrics as well as classic party anthems.

This hip hop compilation album is part of the new Collected compilation series, which is a collaboration between Universal Music and Music On Vinyl. The compilations bring together the biggest and best names of its genre, combined with forgotten hits and less discovered gems, giving the listener an experience of both nostalgia and uncovering new musical grounds at the same time.

The 2LP features Kurtis Blow “The Breaks”, Grand Master Flash & The Furious Five “The Message”, Beastie Boys “She’s On It”, Rob Base & DJ E-Z Rock “Get On The Dancefloor”, and Eric B. & Rakim “Paid In Full” amongst many others.

Hip Hop Collected is available as a limited edition of 5000 individually numbered copies on red (LP1) and white (LP2) coloured vinyl. The album includes an insert with liner notes, photos and credits.

Upon completion of the Stu Cook produced Roky Erickson & The Aliens LP in the summer of 1979, Roky decided to return home to Austin from San Francisco

He needed a band and The Explosives came highly recommended to Roky's manager, Craig Luckin - Introductions were made and rehearsals began. Roky & The Explosives immediately hit it off, musically and personally. They played together in Texas and California from 1979-1981 logging in around 50 shows.
13th Floor Elevators drummer John Ike Walton remarked to Explosives drummer Freddie Steady Krc "You guys played more shows with Roky than the Elevators did!" The guys got in the van and barnstormed all over the Lone Star State.
Bootleg recordings began to emerge that were sub- quality live performance recordings that everyone was making money off except Roky and The Explosives.
Craig and Freddie agreed Freddie would review all the recordings they could find from 1979-81. Almost all were in Craig's possession. Upon final review, Freddie would select the best performance of each song they were playing live from that time period. Some like 'Heroin' and 'I've Just Seen a Face' were called on the spot by Roky at a show, performed once and never played again. After the music was selected, Craig and Freddie went through their personal collection of photos,
poster images and added a complete show itinerary from 1979-81.
'Halloween' is a loving collection of performances documenting a time of Roky's re- emergence into the rock music world. It was something most thought they would never see after his final days with 13th Floor Elevators, following drug busts and his plunge into mental illness eventually ending in his stay at Rusk State Mental Hospital. This record is a testimony of Roky's personal strength and will to return to performing and songwriting. Long live his music!

re-release Find the Greatest Movie Scores selected by CINEZIK in an new Wagram Vinyl Collection!

Ltd Black & White LP

Today sees Belgian-Caribbean provocateur Charlotte Adigéry and her long-term musical partner, Bolis Pupul announce their debut album Topical Dancer, due for release on March 4 2022 via Soulwax’s iconic label DEEWEE.
Cultural appropriation. Misogyny and racism. Social media vanity. Post-colonialism and political correctness. These are not talking points that you’d ordinarily hear on the dancefloor but Charlotte Adigéry and Bolis Pupul are ripping up the rulebook with their debut album Topical Dancer. The Ghent-based duo, who broke out with their 2019 Zandoli EP, are rare storytellers in electronic music: they take the temperature of the time and funnel them into their playful synth concoctions – never didactic and always with a knowing wink.

Their debut studio record – which cements them as a duo under both their names for the first time and is co-written and co-produced by Soulwax – is both a triumph of kaleidoscopic electro-pop and “a snapshot of how we think about pop culture in the 2020s.” It captures Charlotte and Bolis’s essence as musical collaborators and the conversations they’ve had over the past two years on tour, as well as their perspectives as Belgians with an immigrant background, Charlotte with Guadeloupean and French-Martinique ancestry and Bolis being of Chinese descent.

Beyond the album’s thematic heft, Topical Dancer reflects Charlotte and Bolis’s idiosyncratic sound: it’s thoughtful but it bangs. Their take on familiar genres is always off-kilter; songs sound undone or a little wonky; but these are nocturnal heaters to make the club throb. “We like to fuck things up a bit,” laughs Bolis. “We cringe when we feel like we're making something that already exists, so we're always looking for things to combine to make it sound not like a pop song, not like an R&B song, not a techno song. We’re always putting different worlds together. Charlotte and I get bored when things get too predictable.”

Topical Dancer is fizzing with ideas – there’s certainly no filler among its 13 tracks. But above all, perhaps, it has a restlessness, a desire not to be boxed in and to escape others’ narrow perceptions of who they are. It’s summarised by the refrain of their new single, ‘Blenda’: “Don’t sound like what I look like / Don’t look like what I sound like.” “One thing that always comes up,” says Bolis, “is that people perceive me as the producer, and Charlotte as just a singer. Or that being a Black artist means you should be making ‘urban’ music. Those kinds of boxes don’t feel good to us.”

‘Blenda’ in particular references how “I am a product of colonialism,” says Charlotte, “and I feel guilty for taking up space in a white country.” The song was inspired in part by Reni Eddo-Lodge’s book Why I’m Not Longer Talking To White People About Race. “It talks about the colonial past and post-colonial present in the UK,” Charlotte continues, “but that isn’t merely a British or American problem, Belgium is part of that as well.” She says that her home country is likewise “oblivious to a big part of its history” which “results in general ignorance and a lack of understanding and empathy towards Belgian inhabitants of immigrant descent.”

On Topical Dancer, it’s less about finger pointing or being dogmatic about all the things they speak about. It’s about emancipation through humour. “I don’t want to feel this heaviness on me,” says Charlotte. “These aren’t my crosses to bear. Topical Dancer is my way of freeing myself of these issues. And of having fun.”

Today sees Belgian-Caribbean provocateur Charlotte Adigéry and her long-term musical partner, Bolis Pupul announce their debut album Topical Dancer, due for release on March 4 2022 via Soulwax’s iconic label DEEWEE.
Cultural appropriation. Misogyny and racism. Social media vanity. Post-colonialism and political correctness. These are not talking points that you’d ordinarily hear on the dancefloor but Charlotte Adigéry and Bolis Pupul are ripping up the rulebook with their debut album Topical Dancer. The Ghent-based duo, who broke out with their 2019 Zandoli EP, are rare storytellers in electronic music: they take the temperature of the time and funnel them into their playful synth concoctions – never didactic and always with a knowing wink.

Their debut studio record – which cements them as a duo under both their names for the first time and is co-written and co-produced by Soulwax – is both a triumph of kaleidoscopic electro-pop and “a snapshot of how we think about pop culture in the 2020s.” It captures Charlotte and Bolis’s essence as musical collaborators and the conversations they’ve had over the past two years on tour, as well as their perspectives as Belgians with an immigrant background, Charlotte with Guadeloupean and French-Martinique ancestry and Bolis being of Chinese descent.

Beyond the album’s thematic heft, Topical Dancer reflects Charlotte and Bolis’s idiosyncratic sound: it’s thoughtful but it bangs. Their take on familiar genres is always off-kilter; songs sound undone or a little wonky; but these are nocturnal heaters to make the club throb. “We like to fuck things up a bit,” laughs Bolis. “We cringe when we feel like we're making something that already exists, so we're always looking for things to combine to make it sound not like a pop song, not like an R&B song, not a techno song. We’re always putting different worlds together. Charlotte and I get bored when things get too predictable.”

Topical Dancer is fizzing with ideas – there’s certainly no filler among its 13 tracks. But above all, perhaps, it has a restlessness, a desire not to be boxed in and to escape others’ narrow perceptions of who they are. It’s summarised by the refrain of their new single, ‘Blenda’: “Don’t sound like what I look like / Don’t look like what I sound like.” “One thing that always comes up,” says Bolis, “is that people perceive me as the producer, and Charlotte as just a singer. Or that being a Black artist means you should be making ‘urban’ music. Those kinds of boxes don’t feel good to us.”

‘Blenda’ in particular references how “I am a product of colonialism,” says Charlotte, “and I feel guilty for taking up space in a white country.” The song was inspired in part by Reni Eddo-Lodge’s book Why I’m Not Longer Talking To White People About Race. “It talks about the colonial past and post-colonial present in the UK,” Charlotte continues, “but that isn’t merely a British or American problem, Belgium is part of that as well.” She says that her home country is likewise “oblivious to a big part of its history” which “results in general ignorance and a lack of understanding and empathy towards Belgian inhabitants of immigrant descent.”

On Topical Dancer, it’s less about finger pointing or being dogmatic about all the things they speak about. It’s about emancipation through humour. “I don’t want to feel this heaviness on me,” says Charlotte. “These aren’t my crosses to bear. Topical Dancer is my way of freeing myself of these issues. And of having fun.”

Das Warten hat ein Ende! 30 Jahre nach Bandgründung melden sich die Diamond Dogs, Schwedens Boogie-Rock-Legende, mit einem neuen Studioalbum zurück. 'Slap Bang Blue Rendezvous' ist eine Doppel-Album mit insgesamt 24 Songs, das von Tomas Skogsberg produziert und gemischt wurde. Skogsberg beschreibt es wie folgt: 'This is my masterpiece, my White Album'! Musikalisch bieten die schwedischen Rock 'n' Roller ihre spezielle Mischung aus UK-Glam und Blue-Eyed-Soul der frühen 70er Jahre. Klingt wie The Faces, Slade, Mott The Hoople, Kinks oder Rolling Stones!

Das Warten hat ein Ende! 30 Jahre nach Bandgründung melden sich die Diamond Dogs, Schwedens Boogie-Rock-Legende, mit einem neuen Studioalbum zurück. 'Slap Bang Blue Rendezvous' ist eine Doppel-Album mit insgesamt 24 Songs, das von Tomas Skogsberg produziert und gemischt wurde. Skogsberg beschreibt es wie folgt: 'This is my masterpiece, my White Album'! Musikalisch bieten die schwedischen Rock 'n' Roller ihre spezielle Mischung aus UK-Glam und Blue-Eyed-Soul der frühen 70er Jahre. Klingt wie The Faces, Slade, Mott The Hoople, Kinks oder Rolling Stones!

BIOHAZARD formed in Brooklyn in 1988 and soon after released their first demo. The band consisted of founding members Billy Graziadei (vocals, guitar), Bobby Hambel (lead guitar) and Evan Seinfeld (vocals, bass). After the release of their second demo in 1989, drummer Anthony Meo left the band and drummer Danny Schuler replaced him. BIOHAZARD released their combined the urban sounds of hard-core, metal and rap with scorching lyrics describing the forces at work in our modern urban lives. With an impressive career spanning over 20 years with 10 albums (on both indie and major labels), the band sold over 5 million records. In 1990, Biohazard signed a recording contract with Maze Records. The band's self-titled debut album was poorly promoted by the label and sold approximately 40,000 copies. The album's subject matter revolved around Brooklyn, gang-wars, drugs, and violence.

In 1992, Biohazard signed with Roadrunner Records and released Urban Discipline, which gave the band national and worldwide attention in both the heavy metal and hardcore communities. The video for the song "Punishment" became the most played video in the history of MTV's Headbanger's Ball, and the album sold over one million copies. The band also began opening for larger acts such as Pantera, Suicidal Tendencies, House of Pain, Fishbone, and The Cro-Mags. In 1993, the hardcore rap group Onyx brought on Billy Graziadei for an alternate "Bionyx" version of their hit single "Slam" with Biohazard as their backup band. This led to a collaboration on the title track of the Judgment Night soundtrack. The soundtrack would go on to sell over two million copies in the United States. Months later, the band left Roadrunner Records and signed with Warner Bros. Records Inc. who released their third studio LP, State of the World Address. The album was produced by Ed Stasium in Los Angeles and contained the single "How It Is" featuring Sen Dog of Cypress Hill, for which a video was also shot. During their 1994 tour, the band made an appearance on the second stage at the Monsters of Rock festival held at Castle Donington. State of the World Address went on to sell over one million copies, and Rolling Stone magazine selected the Biohazard logo as the best logo of the year.

This was the last Biohazard album with Bobby Hambel, who left due to differences with the rest of the band. The band recorded their fourth studio album, Mata Leao, as a three piece in 1996. It was produced with the help of Dave Jerden. For the 1996-97 Mata Leao Tour, former Helmet guitarist Rob Echeverria joined the band. The band also played on the Ozzfest mainstage alongside Ozzy Osbourne, Slayer, Danzig, Fear Factory, and Sepultura. While touring Europe in support of the Mata Leao album, the band recorded their Hamburg, Germany, show for their first live album, No Holds Barred (Live in Europe), which was released in 1997 through their former label, Roadrunner Records. The band signed to Mercury Records and released their fifth studio album, New World Disorder, in 1999, once again with Ed Stasium as a producer.

The relationship with Mercury Records soured quickly as the band felt betrayed and misunderstood by the label. They severed their ties with the label amidst the merger of Mercury Records, Island Records, Def Jam Records, and Polygram into the Universal Music Group. The following year, Biohazard signed two new record deals with SPV/Steamhammer in Europe and Sanctuary Records for the remainder of the world. Despite the new record deals, the band took some personal time in order to work on other projects. Graziadei and Schuler also collaborated in transforming the band's rehearsal Brooklyn studio into a digital recording studio, known as Rat Piss Studios and soon after changed the name to Underground Sound Studios. Re-investing into the band, Graziadei and Schuler honed their engineering and productions skills while recording and producing local acts and new Biohazard demos. The band then undertook the process of writing, recording, and producing their own music. Their studio work led to the band's sixth studio album, Uncivilization, released in September 2001.
The album featured several guest appearances by members of bands such as Agnostic Front, Hatebreed, Pantera, Slipknot, Sepultura, Cypress Hill, Skarhead, and Type O Negative. Shortly after the release of Uncivilization, guitarist Leo Curley left the band and was replaced by former Nucleus member Carmine Vincent, who had previously toured with Biohazard as part of their road crew. The band had to cancel scheduled European festival dates when Carmine Vincent underwent major surgery. The band did manage to find a temporary guitarist, Scott Roberts, formerly of the Cro-Mags and the Spudmonsters, in time to join the Eastpak Resistance Tour with Agnostic Front, Hatebreed, Discipline, Death Threat, Born From Pain and All Boro Kings. Biohazard completed their seventh studio album in seventeen days; Kill Or Be Killed was released in 2003. While touring North America with Kittie, Brand New Sin and Eighteen Visions, Biohazard announced that Roberts would remain as their permanent lead guitarist. The tour was curtailed when it was announced that Seinfeld had fallen ill. With more downtime due to Seinfeld's illness, Graziadei and Schuler collaborated to mix Life of Agony's live comeback album, River Runs Again: Live 2003. Once Seinfeld was healthy again, the band toured Japan and North America, headlining over bands such as Hatebreed, Agnostic Front, Throwdown, and Full Blown Chaos.

By the end of 2003, the band had begun recording its eighth studio album, Means To An End. The completed album was lost in a studio disaster, forcing the band to completely re-record the album, which was finally released in August 2005. In October 2004, Graziadei announced that Means To An End had been the final Biohazard album and that he would continue playing with his new band Suicide City as his main focus. One month later, on the Biohazard website, it was announced that there would in fact be a 2005 Biohazard tour. On December 15, 2005, Seinfeld and Graziadei participated in the Roadrunner United conglomerate event at the Nokia Theater in New York for an all-star event. The show opened with Biohazard's "Punishment," performed by Seinfeld, Graziadei, Sepultura's Andreas Kisser, former Fear Factory member Dino Cazares, and Slipknot's Joey Jordison. Graziadei and Schuler relocated their recording studio to South Amboy, New Jersey and renamed it Underground Sound Studios. The studio was renovated to include a live room with 20-foot (6.1 m) ceilings and 4,000 square feet (370 m2) of studio space. After Schuler's departure from the studio business, Graziadei relocated the studio to Los Angeles and changed the name to Firewater Studios. In January 2008, the classic lineup of Evan Seinfeld, Billy Graziadei, Danny Schuler and Bobby Hambel made the announcement that rehearsals had begun for a 2008 summer tour to commemorate the band's 20th anniversary. They toured Australia and New Zealand in April with Chimaira, Throwdown, Bloodsimple and headliners Korn to celebrate their newly declared reunion. The band also took part in Persistence Tour 2009, and announced at one of their shows that they were working on a new record. Biohazard brought in producer Toby Wright to work on the album and after several months at Graziadei's Firewater Studios in Los Angeles, the band completed their recording sessions. In June 2011, Biohazard announced that Evan Seinfeld had quit the band and Scott Roberts returned to replace Seinfeld for two UK dates but no decision regarding a permanent replacement was made. In January 2012, the band decided that Scott Roberts would remain with the band as a permanent member. The new album, Reborn In Defiance, was released worldwide, with the exception of North America, on January 20, 2012 through the Nuclear Blast label. In support of the album, Biohazard embarked on a short co-headlining tour of Europe with Suicidal Tendencies in the latter half of January 2012. After touring the world in support of Reborn in Defiance, the band entered the studio to work on a new release and after a falling out, Roberts departed the band.

Biohazard remains as it’s core founding members of Graziadei, Shuler and Hambel. Graziadei has since ventured off onto a solo career as BillyBio and teamed up with Cypress Hill frontman Sendog to start Powerflo. Both groups are working on their second releases due out late 2021 and early 2022.

Finally reissued on vinyl here is Blurt's self-titled essential debut from 1982 remastered and accompanied by a second album that collects all singles from 1980-1984 including: - My Mother Was A Friend Of An Enemy Of The People (1980) - The Fish Needs A Bike (1981) - The Ruminant Plinth (1983) - White Line Fever (1984). Led by poet/saxophonist/blurter Ted Milton, they were one of the oddest and most galvanizing bands from Great Britain’s post-punk movement. Surfacing a year after 1981’s live full-length In Berlin, their self-titled debut studio LP consists of seven tracks that strip funk and jazz-inflected no wave down to insanely logical essentials. These lean vehicles operated by Milton, his brother Jake (drums), and Pete Creese (guitar) get your hips twitching and your brain itching. The songs are both tight and spacey—a rare combo of elements that coheres into trance-funk jams punctuated by Milton’s rude, shredded sax jags and spluttering, megaphoned rants. If you saw Ted Milton doing his thing on the street corner, you’d give him a wide berth. See him onstage or hear him on record and you’re transfixed and repulsed in equal measure. (Jive Time)

Cavity-causing Cordovox-driven 1969 girl-group garage! A delightful
romp through 'Oye Como Va,' 'Proud Mary,' 'Walkin' The Dog,' 'Son Of A
Preacher Man,' their chicle sticky original title track, and so much more!
Cordovox organ, trumpet, bass, drums, congas, and tambourine! Not a
guitar in sight! Out of sight! Pressed on cloud white vinyl!

Back in 1994, when Lambchop first lurched lackadaisically into public view, they seemed to many people freakish, outlandish, destined at best for the pages of photocopied fanzines and the graveyard hours of specialist radio stations. A sprawling collective of Nashville musicians —eleven were credited on the sleeve of I Hope You’re Sitting Down / Jack’s Tulips, one of them apparently responsible for “open-end wrenches” —they’d named themselves after a sock puppet, inexplicably given their album two titles, and stuck a painting on the cover of a small, barefooted child holding a dog whose cock and balls are on proud display. Perhaps to counteract this bold depiction of canine masculinity, the inner sleeve offered a black-and-white shot of what the more refined sometimes call a “lady garden.” The back cover offered a painting detail of a wedding dress. So far, so weird.

Where Lambchop brought us was somewhere so singular and bewilderingly gripping that — to perhaps no one’s greater surprise than
the band themselves, whose homeland remained baffled for quite some years to come — the album ended up in British music paper NME’s Top 50 Albums of the Year. In case anyone were to consider this an anomaly, France’s similarly influential Les Inrockuptibles placed it at number 25 on their own list. Not bad for a band who had gathered since the mid-1980s, once a week, purely for pleasure, in that smoky, dimly lit basement. Not bad, either, for a record whose sessions were initially only expected to produce enough material for a handful of 7 -inch singles. Disheveled yet tender, anarchic yet intricate, I Hope You’re Sitting Down / Jack’s Tulips instead provided the springboard for a career — still ongoing, despite repeated reinventions, and still compelled by stubbornly freakish, outlandish intentions — during which Lambchop’s ever-changing line-up has continued to confound expectations. Wagner, meanwhile, remains one of our most cryptic but crucial voices, an authentic poet of the magical banal. Sure, it was weird here, but it was wonderful, too. Over a quarter century later, it still is.

1. Some records hit you with an instant impression of timeless brilliance, and Low Life’s Dogging is one of those records, what the wise call “an instant classic”. 2. From Squats to Lots: The Agony and the XTC of Low Life is more like their second album Downer Edn (read Edition), a little more withdrawn, a little more textured. Complex. Rich. Which is to say: you’re going to need some time with it. 3. Some show, some grow. Low Life have done both. This one is a grower. Spend some time with this one. It’s got that nuanced flavour. Don’t guzzle. Sip. Savour. 4. Sip it, and sense the recurring brilliance of Mitch Tolman’s lyrics, exploring the usual territory of gutter life, lad life, punk life, low life. The dirge. Disgust and shame in white Australia. Council housing, bills piled to the neck, substance abuse and rehabilitation, the fallen lads and lasses who stood too close to the flame, loss and loneliness, from squats to lots. Un-Australian gutter symphony. 5. There is a celebration of resilience and that’s a central theme of this record and a time like ours needs a record like Agony & XTC. Low times are coming through, but if you’re low they won’t get to you. 6. Iggy Pop’s Bowie produced studio rock masterpieces ‘The Idiot’ and ‘Lust For Life’ are important reference points to the 3rd album sounds of Low Life. Here comes success! 7. ‘The Agony and Ecstasy’ is a 1985 novel by Irving Stone about the life of Italian Renaissance painter Michelangelo. Stone wrote another novel about the single eared painter Vincent Van Gogh called ‘Lust For Life’. This synchronicity hit me. 8. Iggy and the Stooges are a pretty safe reference for Low Life (and all good rock music). Iggy and the Stooges are a low life’s Michelangelo, but solo Iggy like Lust for Life is a better reference for this particular incarnation of Low Life, which is to say they are studio rock albums. 9. Bowie later referred to this period of his life as profoundly nihilistic. But Iggy looked at it as the period of his life that saved him from an early grave. This confrontation is Low life lore. 10. Let’s stick to this, because there’s something about this era of Bowie that makes sense with Low Life’s new album, particularly Low. One should never miss the Low in our new album from Low Life. Producer and studio boss Mickey Grossman has the ear for the Low, and he has carved out a little statue of David right here. 11. Mickey’s ears are recording, mixing and producing the best of Sydney, most notably the Oily Boys Cro Memory Grin. A great companion record to this one. Use Agony & XTC AFTER Oily Boys. Not on an empty stomach, and don’t try to operate heavy machinery (bobcat, bulldozer etc). 12. The relationship between Low Life and Sydney hardcore should not be understated, but it also shouldn’t guide how to listen to Agony & XTC. This is not austere, disciplined music. 13. Think, like, if Poison Idea were given the kind of studio time and budget as Happy Mondays. You wouldn’t play it to a teenager. It’s not for children. This is a mature flavour, one for the adults who have had to contend with failure and hardship, medical bills and disappointed family members, betrayed lovers and worrisome growths, police brutality and tooth decay, humiliating bowels and collapsed septums, detoxing and drying out, for those who have seen themselves as corrupted and putrid and unloveable, for those who endure all of this and aren’t willing to lie down and cop it sweet: Low Life are still here and they ain’t going nowhere. NOTES ON HOW NOT TO LISTEN TO AGONY AND XTC OF LOW LIFE: 1. Don’t think of shoe-gaze. It suggests a safe passage to 90’s reminiscences, a vogue style of our time, but nothing to do with Low Life style. Low Life style is always of its time. The content changes. Agony & XTC shares weight of records like My Bloody Valentine’s Loveless and Slowdive’s Kebab, records that were laboured on after the songs were recorded, songs that were written as they were recorded. 2. We can call these “studio albums” as opposed to albums built in the heat of live performance. Studio albums from the 90’s are called shoe-gaze by some journalist nerds, but we know better than to use words like this. 3. Studio albums are excessive and, at the same time, so empty. Agony & XTC, Loveless, Kebab, Rumours: excessive! And empty. This is not to suggest this is Low Lite, some throwback, soft. A band like Low Life can make an overproduced studio rock album without having to use the word shoe-gaze. So, don’t think studio albums mean anything especially 90’s. Don’t look back. 4. Let’s lose these distasteful labels, like “shoe-gaze”, “rehab rock”, “stab”, “guitar OD overdrive”, “western Sydney wonder”. They can fade out. A low life was once referred to as a vagabond. Who uses this term today? Nobody. Language can murder. Words can die. Kill ‘em all! - Daniel 'DX' Stewart, Melbourne, 2021.

Starring James Fox as a British gangster on the run who finds refuge in the home of reclusive ex-rock star Mick Jagger, Donald Cammell and Nicolas Roeg's PERFORMANCE is one of the great cult movies of the 1970s. The film's soundtrack, produced by Jack Nitzsche for Warner Bros., is equally noteworthy. Needless to say, the Rolling Stones connection is strong; the Jagger-sung single "Memo From Turner" was co-written with Keith Richards, and vocalist Merry Clayton (famous as the duet partner on "Gimme Shelter") appears on three tracks. Several up-and-coming WB artists also make key contributions, including Randy Newman (the raucous "Gone Dead Train"), slide guitar virtuoso Ry Cooder and Little Feat leader Lowell George. Like the film itself, the PERFORMANCE original motion picture soundtrack offers a fascinating glimpse at one of the most exciting eras in rock.

Sid's legendary performance at the Electric Ballroom in London, in 1978. His last show before moving to the US and the first for his new band consisting of him on vocals, early Pistols' bass player Glen Matlock, Rat Scabies from the Damned and Steve New from the Rich Kids. A must for all Pistols' collectors out there.

»Dog Mountain« is the second release by the Zurich-based producer and composer Laurin Huber on Hallow Ground. After last year’s »Juncture« saw the Edipo Re co-founder work mostly with synthesizers and programmed rhythms, the four tracks are much more restrained, drawing on tape loops and feedback, recordings of acoustic guitar and synthesizers such as the Korg MS-10 as well as field recordings that relate to the overarching topic that informed the making of the record. While »Juncture« had previously aimed at deconstructing the binaries and dualities that shape our lives and thinking, »Dog Mountain« is dedicated to geographical divisions that result from political processes and social constructions. »›Here‹ means one nation, ›there‹ another,« writes Huber in a literary piece that accompanies the record. »Being in sound, such a separation seems odd.«

While treating the metaphor of the border as a »membrane, registering and translating the vibrations of its surroundings« and thus as something that is constantly (re-)defined, maintained and defended however, the artist also takes into consideration that »one cannot escape one’s standpoint,« as he puts it. The music on »Dog Mountain« may transcend and overcome certain borders, but it does not deny the realities that they impose on each and every one of us – whether in our political lives or in the realm of sound. This is mirrored in Huber’s engaging in the structural and sonic interplay of repetition and difference. Working with slowly evolving and modulating elements that are exposed to slight shifts, »Dog Mountain« puts a focus on the interaction between small elements that together form a bigger whole which is marked by constant evolution and change.

Opener »Raja« (»border« in Northern Sami and Finnish) starts off with a two-note melody played on an out-of-tune guitar. Different field recordings and synthesizer sounds drop in and out of the mix until the dynamic shifts and Huber starts playing more notes on his instrument, thus increasing the tension. It’s a meditation on minimalism, but also a piece that mediates between notions of what constitutes the difference between noise and music or referentiality and abstraction in sound. After »Nickel« (named after a Russian monotown near the border to Norway) dedicates itself to explore the friction between hissing white noise and melancholic tape loops, »A Town Is Not a Town« (a phrase taken from the documentary »Kiruna – Rymdvägen«) structurally mirrors the experiment of »Raja« with very different sonic means.

Closing the record, »Storskog-Borisoglebsk« (the title refers to the northernmost land border between Schengen-Europe and Russia) is the longest and most challenging piece, working with both long-form drones and musique concrète elements. It proposes a synthesis of the opposites that are explored patiently and with much attention to detail throughout this record.

From Jagjaguar: “Somewhere along the way, I got the idea
that Richard Youngs’s ‘Sapphie’ was all about a dead dog.
“I don’t know if someone insinuated this idea in front of me
or if I psychologically tethered the title to the tenderly
printed dog paw on its cover. Either way, I’ve gone over a
decade thinking this remarkable, windswept album of torch
songs was about a dearly departed pet.
“And yet, as we approached a reissue of this Jagjaguwar
classic and a new, reimagined version by artists Hypnotic
Brass Ensemble, Moses Sumney, Sharon Van Etten, and
Perfume Genius, Richard Youngs was straightforward and
unsentimental about its meanings. ‘The lyrics are not
about anything in particular,’ Youngs wrote.
“The paw prints on the cover are, in fact, that of a friend’s
dog (‘The first dog I ever loved,’ Richard said), but there is
no devastating loss at its center.
“And so, I want to tell Richard how this album has become
a centering album for a great many of us, a transcendent
and meditative piece of art.
“‘What does ‘the mindfulness drill’ have to do with it?’
Richard asks me dryly in a note.
“It’s about being relentlessly present, Richard. It’s how
when we listen to your album, we feel like a lonely traveler
in a foreign country. How everything has a newness to it
and there’s no one to share it with but the you inside of
you. And that fine, fine line is where ‘Sapphie’ lives,
Richard. Thank you for this, Richard.”
A reimagining of Richard Youngs’ ‘Sapphie’ with
instrumentals from Hypnotic Brass Ensemble and vocal
contributions from Moses Sumney, Perfume Genius and
Sharon Van Etten.
Available on Opaque Black & White Explosion vinyl.

Beautiful orange & yellow sunburst vinyl - Solstice '21 sees twelve bright lights of independent electronic music mark the coming Summer Solstice. In such dark days, the age-old practice of celebrating the move from shadow to light, feels steeped in a renewed symbolic power. Solstice '21 marks this significant moment with a rich array of musical offerings. Reflective, lively, and always powerful, this collection is spun with modern twists of an ancient thread. Rotator - This is the first outing under this moniker from Justin Owen, also known under the alias Licit, as well as being a protagonist in the world of modular synthesis as the man behind the Abstract Data modules; Letters from Mouse - "Bubbling analogue synthesis from Scotland." This analogue synth maestro and inimitable broadcaster (aka The Magic Window), boasts a string of quality releases, including the recent highly acclaimed album An gàrradh, also on Subexotic; Cub/cub - "Cub/cub explores the world in-between nostalgia and nihilism, analogue and digital, real and false; creating evocative and mournful musical collages." First discovered on Boards of Canada forum Twoism, Cub/cub's two debut releases with Subexotic demonstrated his considerable talent to mix fascinating texture with beguiling melody. With an astonishing follow-up album coming soon, his rising star feels unstoppable; Orbury Common - "aural ephemera from the home of the orbs." This mysterious duo from the West of England are blessed with delightful musical cunning; their brilliant debut on Subexotic lifted the lid, and this offering reaffirms exciting times lie ahead; Onepointwo - "Minimal electronics, abstract radio signals and dystopian soundscapes are proceeded from both digital and analogue sources." A creator of intricate yet powerful collage, with finely wrought motifs that repeat and build to create a shimmering psychedelic impact. This is Onepointwo's glorious trademark. Spell-binding releases already exist on Woodford Halse, Poeta Negra, Lotus, as well as an imminent powerhouse album forthcoming on Subexotic; Giants of Discovery - "Experimental electronica with the occasional noisy guitar thrown in." Giants of Discovery's ability to get to grips with the musicality of his subject, has lead to previous exquisite sojourns into realms such as Victorian cosmic horror and Greek mythology, as well as an equally fantastical, towering follow up album on Woodford Halse; Wonderful Beasts - "A Wonderful collaboration between boycalledcrow and Xqui." Their playful interaction finds ways of crafting acoustic fragments into unexpected kaleidoscopes of sound. With beguiling debuts on cult label Wormhole World (soon to be followed up by an extraordinary new album on Subexotic), there is a kind of breathless magic about everything they do; Dogs versus Shadows - Electronic Sound Magazine says "A rare example of gamekeeper turned poacher...a welter of impressive electronica." Lee Pylon's ability to straddle a wealth of uncompromisingly inventive creations, and his broadcasting prowess as the much loved Kites & Pylons, is already the stuff of legend. A multitude of releases across many labels including Subexotic, Woodford Halse, Miracle Pond, Third Kind, Submarine Broadcasting, Sensory Leakage, provide a glittering treasure trove of work; Counter Silence - A stalwart of Subexotic, Counter Silence's sparkling and wistful musical work very much stands alone in temperament and style. 2020's Pathways EP on Subexotic remains a precious oasis, imbued with a haunting solitude that lives on in the memory; Transient Visitor - "All music unlocked by Alex Cargill (C.O.I. Central Office of Information) and Martin Jensen (The Home Current)." These two intercontinental maestros (well Sidcup & Luxembourg) boast impressive solo back catalogues across many labels (including Castles in Space, Polytechnic Youth, Woodford Halse). Their newly conceived collaborative Transient Visitor project, brought about the superb TV1 album in 2020 - we can see the sparks fly again in this welcome 2021 return; Simon Klee - "Natural, Electric, Organic Psychedelic - Sounds, noise and psychedelic beats." Klee's playful alchemy engages the mind and spirit, as witnessed in a flurry of top quality releases in recent times (e.g. Subexotic, ANR, Woodford Halse), and there is a visceral joy in his work that is perfectly placed for a midsummer celebration. Klee also produces a truly excellent mixcast and increasingly essential tape label, both under the guise of Anticipating Nowhere; Rupert Lally - "Hailing originally from England but now based in Switzerland, Guitarist, Percussionist and Electronic Musician Rupert Lally began his career as a Sound Designer and Composer for Theatre and TV, before launching his solo career in 2005. Since then his releases have blurred the boundaries between electronic and acoustic music." Lally's consistently brilliant work is always a highlight of the electronic music calendar, including recent stellar works across many labels such as Spun Out Of Control, Third Kind, Woodford Halse, and Modern Aviation.