Cerca:who else

With his ongoing commitment to like-minded archivist label Finders Keepers Records, industrial music pioneer Steven Stapleton further entrusts us to lift the veil and expose “the right tracks” from his uber-legendary and oft misinterpreted psych/prog/punk peculiarity shopping list known as The Nurse With Wound List.
Following the critically lauded first instalment and it’s exclusively French tracklisting both parties now combine their vinyl-vulturous penchants to bring you the next ‘Strain Crack & Break’ edition which consists of twelve lesser-known German records that played a hugely important part in the initial foundations of the list which began to unfold when Stapleton was just thirteen years old.
From the perspective of a schoolboy Amon Düül (ONE) victim, at the start of a journey that commenced before phrases like kosmische and the xeno-ignant Krautrock tag had become mag hack currency, this compendium is devoid of the tropes that united what many would accurately argue to be the greatest progressive pop bands in Europe
(namely CAN, Neu! and Kraftwerk) and rather shatters the ingredients across a ground zero landscape for both inquisitive fans and socially rehabbing musos to begin to assemble a unique self-styled identity. If Krautrock was the music that journalist told us lurked behind schlager (German pop) in the 1970s, then this record includes the music that skulked behind Krautrock and perhaps refused to polish its backhanded name belt.
Including lesser-known artists like the late Wolfgang Dauner, whose career proceeded and outlived the kosmische movement while consistently informing and outsmarting them whenever they got stuck in their metronomic ruts, or how about Fritz Müller, the man who
was to Kraftwerk what Stuart Sutcliffe was to The Beatles but had more in common with Yoko and quite rightly couldn’t give a stuff about the Fab Four’s Hamburg roots.
Elsewhere we have a plethora of German bands made for German audiences as they try and shed secondhand flower power Americanisms and feel the benefits of much harder drugs and the realisations of difficult second album budgets while Kommune 1
newsflashes wipe smiles from everybody’s faces and replace them with opioid chic or acid-sarcastic grins. Bonzo Cockettes show us their Big Muffs and drummers ask for extra mics while Conny Plank goes for parliamentary office and gives babies good firm handshakes for the camera.
‘Strain Crack & Break: Volume Two’ is the sound of Steve Stapleton’s sponge-like mind and the dividends of anyone who was brave enough to even peek inside those brick-thick gatefold covers never mind drop the needle.
Over forty years since Nurse With Wound’s first album was released, Finders Keepers Records and Steve Stapleton take connoisseurs of our kind of music back to the disused elevator shaft towards ground zero. Arriving at the same checkout from different departments, Finders Keepers and Nurse With Wound continue to sing from the same hymnal with this ongoing collaborative attempt to officially, authentically and legally compile the best tracks from Steve’s list, where many overzealous erds have faltered (or simply, got the wrong end of the stick).
After ‘Strain Crack & Break: Volume One’ merely scratched the surface of this DIY dossier of elongated punk-prog peculiarities, this second lavish metallic gatefold double vinyl compendium drives a much deeper groove which, in accordance with Steve’s wishes, focusses exclusively on individual tracks of German origin - the country whose music forged the prototype of the NWW inventory in the form of his secondary school vinyl wantlist in the early 1970s, comprised of disassembled free jazz, unshowered stoner psych, hypnotic prog, deranged monk funk and fuzzed out Deutschmark bin bonzo beats.

Kojaque follows his critically acclaimed cult concept record, ‘Deli Daydreams’, with an
expansive, urgent debut album. In this landmark debut, Kojaque mines both his
emotional interior as an artist, and the external forces of a love triangle barrelling
towards chaos. ‘Town’s Dead’ is a mind-bending, explosive and expansive trip,
documenting a tumultuous love triangle that unfolds across New Year’s Eve in a
place where gentrification poses as much a threat as the violence of street dealers.
Sonically, the record smashes any previous expectations, stretching an aural palate
that leaps from rage to solace, from clattering musical combustions to tender
ruminations. The tremendous scope and scale of ‘Town’s Dead’ demonstrates an
artist utterly untethered to assumptions about what a particular voice or genre should
be, and instead explores radical musical territory. Dark corners of parks, bedrooms,
clubs, streets and psyches are excavated and pouring over the rubble is an artist
who refuses to conform, unafraid of the vulnerabilities that are exposed when the
voice rings true, because there’s just no point in being anything else.
Kojaque is part of a new wave of Irish artists flooding the world with blistering and
sophisticated literature, film and music - ideas and work that emerged from a social
revolution stonewalled by late-stage capitalism. Welcome to that state of mind, where
the path less travelled is the only one worth taking.
On the announcement of his debut album Kojaque has said: “‘Town’s Dead’ comes
from the potential that I see in Dublin and in the people I’m surrounded by day in and
day out. There’s nothing but talent and ambition among young people, I’m constantly
reminded of that through the art and music that I see being made but I think so often
the city grinds you down, it takes your hope and your ambition. I know that it can
change because so many of my friends express the exact same wants, desires and
frustrations with living in Ireland. If so many of us are on the same page then I know
that things can change, there just needs to be some sort of catalyst to kick start that
change and for me that’s always been art and music. Time and time again, amazing
art continues to be made in spite of the struggles and setbacks that are presented
when living here. The title track and the album is a fight against what can sometimes
feel inevitable, it’s a rejection of what people tell you is your destiny as a young
person in the city, Town’s NOT dead it’s just Dormant.”
CD housed in digisleeve containing 12-page lyric and photo booklet.
Black double vinyl housed in 5mm wide spine single sleeve with 12-page lyric and
photo booklet.
“Hints of Odd Future and its offspring... Kojaque is not your average rapper” - i-D
“Dublin’s hip-hop community are making waves right now... an intimate introduction
to the world this bold artist inhabits” - Clash
“Social realist rhymes set to silky hip-hop” - NME
“Likeable and funny” - Trench
“The Dublin MC forcing us to face real life; both the gory and the glory” - Wonderland
“Ireland’s freshest hip-hop hope, Kojaque, serves ‘soft hip hop’ with a side order of
poetry and performance art” - Notion

 Eight years passes like nothing for Birds of Maya. Their fourth
album kicks out the Philly jams with every bit as much fervour
as their earlier releases - in fact, as it was recorded in 2014, it
kind of is one of their earlier releases.
 A long era of dull ringing and nothing else in our ears is over.
Once again, winds of warm guitar and humid thunderheads of
bass and toms rumble all around. With ‘Valdez’, Birds of Maya
are back in flight. And like the first song title explicitly states, this
latest is a soaring blast of riffers, rife with punk rock abandon,
sludge, treble, distortion, neck-throttling rock ‘n’ roll solos,
pummelling drums and bass and half-shouted/half-gargled
vocals, all of it half on and half off the mic.
 ‘Valdez’ was recorded in 2014 at Black Dirt Studios in otherstate New York. After a Purling Hiss session there, Birds of
Maya got a bunch of tunes they liked into shape - that is,
different shapes on different days. But nice shapes. Once they
got to the studio, they loaded in and set up, curious to see how
they felt playing in a different room. Pretty good as it turned out
- running through the songs that first night, they accidentally
recorded the whole album. Then they finished up the next day,
mostly. Trading the crushed harmonics of their basement tapes
for studio-grade mics, overdubs in the mix and only slightly lessbruised harmonics, their roiling essence not only survives but
thrives, non-stop, on ‘Valdez’, stuttering, screaming and
stomping through six circuitous numbers.
 At the time this was recorded, Birds of Maya were standing on
the other side of ten years kicking around town, suddenly far
away from the primordial ooze they’d flopped forth from. The
streets where all this had happened on were changing, with new
money rolling in, but they were the same old Birds, content with
their libations and ear-splitting variations on old favourite
Stooges chords. The cover art of Valdez is a couple of images
from those days, glimpses at the old grass roots before they
were ripped up by developers to build condos. But nothing ever
really goes away. ‘Valdez’ is a totem of the wildness that refuses
be tamed

Perila (Aleksandra Zakharenko) left her native Russia six years ago, landing in Berlin. Finding her place almost immediately - first at Berlin Community Radio and through that amongst a group of like-minded creative individuals (including her current flatmates Special Guest DJ and exael) - she started a regular practice of working on an expressionistic "sonic diary" of field recordings and electronic sound research for her own pleasure. When the opportunity arose to create her own podcast series, WET (or Weird Erotic Tension) was born. Upon hearing her evocative and atmospheric music layered with friends Nat Marcus and Inger Wold Lund's erotic spoken word poetry, Sferic Records asked to release it, and Perila - a project name originally used for her BCR show - truly came to be. Aleksandra, who was raised in St. Petersburg, has been involved in music since childhood thanks to her melomaniac father. She's been both drummer and singer in local bands in Russia, and is also the co-founder of radio.syg.ma - one of the first online stations in Russian focusing on experimental sounds - but Perila is something else entirely. You could loosely describe it as ambient, but her soundworld is so specific and transportative, filled with detail and movement, it's more akin to hauntological musique concrète, touched by song. Her fascination with voice and language - she studied English literature at university - is still evident, although that's now her voice, her texts, her crooning you can hear on the Everything Is Already There cassette (Boomkat Editions, 2020), her processed breaths on the Meta Door L cassette (Paralaxe Editions, 2020). The Wire Magazine got it right when they said about Irer Dent that, "Sensuality is presented as a secret pass to a higher consciousness." For her debut album, How Much Time it is Between You and Me?, released via Smalltown Supersound on June 11th, Aleksandra takes inspiration from the concept of time, which she felt keenly during the pandemic. Recorded primarily in September 2020 in a rural village in France - her only travel during the first year of the pandemic period - surrounded by mountains but otherwise alone with no internet, her perception of time there differed immensely. She describes the trip as, "an immersive experience into self," viewed through a "silence prism" where everyday sounds usually ignored felt amplified. While her work has always dealt in intimacy - be it the private thrills of WET or the audible closeness of our surroundings - the organic response and consistent feedback she gets for Perila made Aleksandra recognize a longing, a need for it in today's world. Intent on creating work based in honesty and tenderness, Perila's practice also explores how we feel music and emotion throughout the body and how sound can help to release it. How does the sound enter a body and travel through it? Where does movement start? How do you reach and unblock emotional clusters with the help of sound and deep listening of the body responses? Aleksandra likes to describe her music and performances as trips - thick narratives drifting along sound to get closer to self. Let Perila guide you through this journey.

In the past years, the multi-instrumentalist, composer, producer and music enthusiast Jeff Özdemir had been focusing on organising the Live-Mixtape series in Berlin, inviting numerous artists to join him on stage for every single event. However, the year 2020 put an end to this for all the painfully obvious and obviously painful reasons. Undeterred, he instead put together the third instalment of the »Jeff Özdemir & Friends« series, working with singers, musicians and groups such as Knarf Rellöm & DJ Patex, F.S. Blumm, Joanna Gemma Auguri, Elke Brauweiler and Elmer Kussiac for an 18-track … Now, is this a compilation or an artist album? Well, why just either this or that when it can just be both at once? This is »Jeff Özdemir & Friends Vol. 3« after all, emphasis on »&«.

Released on Karaoke Kalk like its two predecessors from the years 2015 and 2017, respectively, »Jeff Özdemir & Friends Vol. 3« sees the man behind Kreuzberg’s 33rpm record store and the 33rpm Records label showcase his qualities as a people remixer, songwriter and versatile musician. He put together a collection of groovy tunes picking up on funk and afrobeat rhythms, introspective ballads, a musically channeled punk attitude, shoegaze sentiments, spoken word passages, drones, glockenspiel sounds, seriously fun experimentation and much more. Just like on the cover artwork - courtesy of Marion Eichmann, Özdemir’s favourite visual artist - everything here seems to discreetly exist for itself while being tightly connected to everything else at same time.

While artists like Ertan Doğancı, Désolé Léo, eng°n, F.S. Blumm and Zap have been long-term collaborators of Özdemir and were featured on previous instalments of the »Jeff Özdemir & Friends« series, new faces and forces also enter the mix. The melancholic »Love Letters« for example marks the first (though hopefully not last) collaboration with singer Joanna Gemm Auguri, while Knarf Rellöm & DJ Patex’s appearance has been dreamt of collectively but hasn’t been fully realised until now.

Whether it’s Désolé Léo’s French crooner soul, the lo-fi synth pop song »Bored« featuring former Commercial Breakup singer Elke Brauweiler or the many different sounds and styles presented under the name Jeff Özdemir: no decision is ever made between either that or this musical direction, but all are being joyfully enjoyed together. Thus, throughout its 70 minutes, the stylistic diversity of »Jeff Özdemir & Friends Vol. 3« does not once border on randomness. Instead, these sometimes very different songs are marked by a shared atmosphere - a direct result of these very different musicians approaching their studio time together less as a chance to make music but more of a chance to carefully listen to and interact with each other.

Just like you’d expect it from someone deeply connected with the local music community who also happens to run a record store, Özdemir is also the kind of person who’ll hand you the worn copy of a record he has just fished out from the bargain bin because he knows about its potential to change your life. The contributions by Vackrow (»Kleistpark«), Gebrüder Teichmann’s old band BeigeGT (»Disco«), and Otto von Bismarck (»Zu viele Erinnerungen«, produced by The Whitest Boy Alive’s Daniel Nentwig) do not even feature Özdemir, but are simply musical pearls that were (almost) lost in the shuffle of music history and unearthed for this very special occasion. That’s just what friends do, don’t they?

‘Miracle’ is the new album from Manchester singer songwriter Francis Lung,
released on Memphis Industries.
“For me, ‘Miracle’ is about the struggle between my self-destructive side and my
problem-solving, constructive side,” says Francis. “I suppose through a lot of
these songs I’m dealing with these emotional problems, acknowledging the
negative aspects of my behaviour instead of burying them, and providing an
alternative point of view for myself.”
Despite its serious subject matter, ‘Miracle’ is far from austere in sound, marrying
the cinematic, dreamlike quality of Francis’s earlier music with the pared-back
charm of great singer-songwriters like Judee Sill, Jeff Tweedy and Elliott Smith.
The album opens with ‘Bad Hair Day’, a relentlessly catchy - and deceptively
upbeat - ode to hangovers and missed connections. “I’ve been calling on you all
night / But I never get through, I just get in the way” Francis laments; “I am a
cloud in the sun’s light / Whatever I do, whatever I say.”
Elsewhere, the title track finds him pondering the fickle nature of the music
industry: “I think of [‘Miracle’] as acknowledging and even encouraging the
feelings we’re not supposed to succumb to - giving up, giving in - just because it
can be comforting to hear it from someone else. ‘Why am I climbing these social
ladders and jumping through the hoops of this creative industry? Does this make
me happy?’”
These themes of longing and lacking, missing and being missed, reoccur
throughout ‘Miracle. “When I die / Will I be missed / Or am I missing the point?”
asks ‘Say So’; while ‘Lonesome No More’, inspired by the Kurt Vonnegut book of
the same name, begs the question: if loneliness was eradicated, would we miss
it?
By confronting these feelings, Francis is able to move forward, as triumphant
album closer ‘The Let Down’ proves. Its lyrics serve as a call to action, as
Francis wills himself (and the listener) to “Get up / Get something going / Do
something, do it / Do it now.”
‘Miracle’ was produced by Francis in collaboration with Brendan Williams (Dutch
Uncles, Matthew Halsall, Kiran Leonard) and Robin Koob (who co-arranged and
performed strings). The opportunity to take creative control was one Francis
relished. “I’m quite bad at delegating,” he admits, noting that he played every
instrument except strings on ‘Miracle’. The result is a cohesive, deeply personal
record, which is as vital as it is vulnerable. “I don’t want to be defined by my
anxiety, my depression or any history of substance abuse,” Francis says, “but I
do want to reach out to other people who have had similar experiences,
especially if it’s in a way that helps them feel a little better. To me, this music is
celebrating healing as much as it focuses on the darker sides of the human
psyche.”

Almost all records are a snapshot, a musical ribbon bow that documents a very specific moment in time or simply ties-off everything up to that point. Indigo De Souza’s I Love My Mom, her debut LP initially released in 2018, was the latter; a collection of the best songs she’d written in the few years that preceded it, recorded quickly and breathlessly and thrown out into the world.

Consisting of ten songs, I Love My Mom feels both raw and unabashed. Indigo pulled a band together for the first time, and was quickly encouraged to commit her songs to tape. Recorded at her friend’s house, they played almost everything live in just a few days, and released the record naturally, with little fanfare. That the record quickly took on a life of its own, deeply resonating with those who heard it, is a testament to Indigo’s songwriting which took inspiration from the unique worlds created by Arthur Russel, Sparklehorse, The Microphones, as well as contemporaries such as LVL UP and Happyness.

Two of the songs have racked up more than a million streams each on Spotify: “Take O Ur Pants” and “How I Get Myself Killed.” The former balances an often breezy lead vocal with gnarly undercurrents of guitar before the whole thing lets rip in its punchy chorus, while the latter, the album’s opening track, finds a different mood entirely, a slacker rock gem that repeats its chorus as a chest-beating mantra. Elsewhere, “Good Heart” furthers the dichotomy which sits at the record’s core, each moment of quiet introspection soon met by a cacophonous burst of energy.

“The term ‘Front Porch Singin’’ may actually be a metaphor for
many creative and conceptual musical ideas. But, for us, this title
has become more of an attitude than anything else. What if the
four of us were sitting on a porch together and someone begins to
sing a favorite old Gospel song, like ‘Swing Down Chariot’, or a
country and Western standard like ‘Red River Valley’, and
everyone else just joined in?
“That is what happened at RCA Studio A. But, as usual under
producer Dave Cobb’s leadership, this album turned into so much
more. The Front Porch Singin’ attitude remained prevalent
throughout, as songwriters, musicians, Dave and all four of us
kept coming to the table with terrific creative ideas to enhance our
Front Porch experience.
“This project is quite honestly one of the most heartfelt albums we
have ever recorded. Perhaps it is because we recorded these
songs in the middle of a raging pandemic that changed the face of
America and obviously took a huge toll on those of us in the music
business. It was a bit strange to social-distance from each other in
the studio, but we believe it drew us all closer and, in doing so, we
may have inadvertently recorded the perfect project for this time
period. These songs, whether new or old, reflect a certain
optimism and a deep-seated faith that God will work all of this out
as we move forward. ‘Life is beautiful’, as one song says. We must
embrace it and celebrate it with all of our being.
“Join us on The Front Porch and, if it is God’s will… Let’s keep on
SINGIN’.” - The Oak Ridge Boys
Produced by six-time Grammy award-winning producer Dave
Cobb (John Prine, Brandi Carlile, Chris Stapleton, Sturgill
Simpson, Jason Isbell & the 400 Unit), who also co-wrote several
of the songs on the album.
The Oak Ridge Boys are members of the Country Music Hall of
Fame and The Grand Ole Opry. They are Grammy, ACM, CMA
and Billboard Award winners. They have had 12 gold, three
platinum and one double platinum album, more than a dozen
national Number One singles and over 30 Top Ten hits.

Ulna’s OEA is a “bar-rock getting sober record.“ The first full length solo record of Ulna, aka Adam Schubert of Cafe Racer, OEA is an ode to reinvention. Along with the release comes a rebranding--formerly Ruins, Schubert’s new pseudonym ULNA is a reference to a pivotal moment in his childhood. At the age of 14, Schubert shattered the bone on the inside of his forearm in a skating accident, and took up the guitar. “That’s what made me serious about playing music,” says Schubert.

This name change also accompanied Schubert’s shift towards sobriety--OEA was created right as Schubert reconfigured his life without drugs or alcohol. With the exception of the final track, “Dead Friends,” the whole album was written while in a recovery program. “You have to reinvent your whole personality, you have to be a different person,” says Schubert.”Who am I if I’m not the crazy drunk dude who’s doing drugs in the bathroom?”

OEA is an intensely personal record, in subject matter but also quite literally--Schubert plays every instrument, though the record feels far from a home-demo, recorded and mastered by Robby Hanes at Strange Magic Recording in Chicago’s Logan Square. Schubert’s songs are ambling and full of picked guitar and retro harmonies, a stylistic sensibility he attributes to a love for the Beatles and “acoustic rock with a weird punk edge,” a-la Big Thief and Kurt Vile. Though instrumentally sunny, his vocals hint at something else - there’s an underlying ache. OEA is an easy listen, but with a depth of emotion that demands listeners’ attention.

OEA explores the range of emotions experienced in the transition to sobriety, from fear to backslide to self doubt. At first listen, “Turn The Record On” feels almost like a love song, with a chorus of “turn the record on/ you’re my favorite song,” but in actuality the song is the story of an empty encounter rather than romance. “It’s kind of about this sad hookup with someone else who is equal in your addiction, you’re just using each other because you don’t want to be alone in your using,” says Schubert. “We both have this problem and we can have fun in it together because we both understand. They know the score.”

While “Turn The Record On” speaks to a moment of shared addiction, other tracks examine what comes after sobriety. “And I took the pill like I should / and I stayed clean just like I said I would,” begins “Last Song,” which Schubert cites as one of the hardest tracks to write. “I got sober and I take medication and - I’m doing all this stuff now but nothing’s changed,” says Schubert. “ I think that’s pretty common in people who get sober. I did all this stuff and now what?”

The penultimate track on the album, “Last Song” fades into a noisy interlude that gives listeners the feeling of motion, like entering a tunnel and emerging into a quieter, lo-fi recording, the closing track “Dead Friends.” The only non-studio track, “Dead Friends” was recorded in Schubert’s home, and carries with it a warm intimacy. “I wanted it to sound like you’re outside somewhere, you're walking, and you step inside somewhere that feels safe,” says Schubert.

This closing track embodies the mood of OEA- warm but with a melancholy edge, like coming in from the cold but still feeling a lingering chill. It’s an album that feels comfortable and cohesive--though individual tracks stand alone, OEA works best when listened through start to finish. It’s a record to put on while cooking dinner and let sink in.

RED FANG return with their highly anticipated new album, Arrows! Their first album in five years, everyone's favorite beer-crushing, zombie-killing, air-guitar-contest-judging metal heroes are back in action, doing what they do best- AND MORE. “This record feels more like Murder The Mountains to me than any record we’ve done before or since,” bassist/vocalist Aaron Beam ventures. “It doesn’t sound like that record, but Murder the Mountains was us doing whatever the fuck we wanted, and that’s what this is, too.” Arrows was recorded at Halfling Studios in the band’s hometown of Portland, OR, with longtime collaborator Chris Funk, producer of Murder The Mountains and 2013’s Whales and Leeches. “Chris is a major influencer as far as the weird ambient stuff in between the songs and the creepy incidental noises within the songs,“ guitarist Bryan Giles points out. “I think he definitely creates an added layer of atmosphere that we wouldn’t have otherwise.” Arrows is also a proper title track, which is new territory for the band. “This is the first time we’ve named an album after a song that’s actually on the album,” Beam explains. “We have other albums that are named after songs of ours that are not on those albums. So this time we’re really fucking with you because we didn’t fuck with you.” Similarly, fans might not believe what the song “Arrows” is partially about. “If you’re confused by some of the lyrics to the song, that makes sense,” Beam explains. “But it makes reference to meditation. I started meditating six years ago, but I can only do it when I’m not feeling too anxious. So, when I don’t need it, that’s when I can do it.” Elsewhere, “Fonzi Scheme” was named after legendary Happy Days cool guy Arthur Fonzarelli—if only because it’s in the key of his famous catchphrase, “Aaay.” Producer Chris Funk came up with the idea of bringing in string players from the Portland Cello Project to class up the track. Meanwhile, the opening riff of closer “Funeral Coach” was written 11 years ago. But it took until recently for the song to blossom into its full double-entendre glory. “I was driving around and I saw a hearse that said ‘funeral coach services’ on the back,” Beam explains. “So the first thing that popped into my head was a dude with a headset and a clipboard going, ‘Alright, dudes—more tears! Five minutes in is when the tears are critical, or no one’s gonna believe that anyone cares that this person died.’” In a nod to tradition, Arrows will be available in formats that include all the drums, bass, guitars and vocals. But it could’ve gone another way. “Our original idea was to release the album with no vocals or guitar solos,” Beam explains. “If you want the guitar solos, it’s an extra five bucks. If you want the vocals, it’s an extra ten bucks. So basically people should feel lucky that we didn’t do that. You get to buy the whole thing altogether.” RED FANG think of it as a generous display of gratitude toward their fans. “Yeah,” says Sherman, “Thank you for buying our album, you lucky bastards.”

Recently signed to FatCat’s 130701 imprint, Dutch
composer Rutger Hoedemaekers makes his debut
solo release with a stunning album that marks the
culmination of a decade spent in the hypercreative studio environment he co-founded in
Berlin, including four years working closely
alongside Jóhann Jóhannsson.
Sonically rich, emotionally deep, and immaculately
handled, ‘The Age Of Oddities’ showcases a
brilliant new talent, its cinematic eloquence bearing
witness to Rutger’s experiences composing for film
alongside Oscar-winner Hildur Guðnadóttir and
Jóhannsson, for whom the album is partly a
eulogy.
‘The Age Of Oddities’ is a bold and forwardthinking record, with a rich, hybrid sound seeing
vocals processed and blurred alongside brass
parts and a wall of strings shadowed by Rutger’s
understated, textural electronics.
The album features the Budapest Art Orchestra’s
23-piece string ensemble alongside vocals (Kira
Kira, Else Torp and Laura Jansen), horn (Morris
Kliphuis), trombone (Hilary Jeffery) and violin (Una
Sveinbjarnardóttir, Viktor Orri Árnason), with
Hoedemaekers contributing trumpet, piano,
keyboard and electronics.
For fans of Jóhann Jóhannsson, Hildur
Guðnadóttir, Mica Levi, Max Richter, Olafur
Arnalds.

It’s a given that timing is everything in music – most obviously in terms of composition and production but often just as much in regard to conception and release – the latter two doubly poignantly so in the case of this massive DOOM vs The Sugarcubes mash-up LP from turntablist and producer Krash Slaughta.

Which is why the tale of this project’s gestation is perhaps what should be told about it before anything else.

Begun last August and finished on 25 October, the album started life as an idea born from a casual listen to final Sugarcubes album Stick Around For Joy that Krash had bought a copy of years before in a charity shop. Contemplating the cover art while listening to the LP and the track Hit in particular, it came to him that here might be the musical basis for a concept LP in the grand tradition of the hip-hop mash-up album. Thus the project was born, becoming something of an obsession as lockdown restrictions recommenced through a sanity-testing autumn. As it developed, the provisional title of Stick Around For DOOM morphed into Sugar Coated DOOM and Brighton artists Leigh Pearce and Rob Crespo were roped in to create the artwork. So pleased was Krash with the results that he decided to self-finance the pressing of the LP to vinyl which in turn would allow him to send a copy to DOOM in the most fitting format. On that basis, along with his dad’s advice that if you want something done properly; do it yourself’, he initiated the process for a limited press run as soon as the project wrapped and telephoned his dad (who’d been shielding and who he hadn’t seen for months) to say he’d done precisely that. In a tragic twist, this turned out to be their last ever conversation, for Krash’s dad died suddenly the next day. Two months later of course, while waiting for the Covid-slowed vinyl pressing process to complete, came a further tragic twist as the world received the delayed news that DOOM himself had also passed away back in October – in the event, only five days after Krash’s father. So it’s no understatement to say that Sugar Coated DOOM carries significant emotional resonance for its maker, forever linked as it will be to the deaths of two of his personal heroes.

Which brings us to the content. The album contains seven vocal tracks, with an alternate version of one and instrumental versions of five of the seven across two sides of an album with the music, track names, LP title and cover art mashing up musical, lyrical/ textual and visual elements of The Sugar Cubes’ Stick Around For Joy with DOOM acapellas, track names and references. Listeners won’t need long to appreciate that Krash Slaughta was right to be proud of his creation, almost certainly correct in thinking DOOM would dig it and no doubt The Sugarcubes too. Also, who would have thought The Sugarcubes had so much potential for beat-mining? But then seeing potential in the unexpected was always a vital skill from the golden era of sampling in hip-hop and those who follow in the tradition. The first track proper, for example, swipes Madlib’s lo-fi beat from underneath the vocals for Figaro and replaces it with the looped and beefed-up opening bars of the Cubes’ I’m Hungry. The result is a natural fit. But then the blending of elements in every track on this release provides evidence of the effort and love put into its creation, reinvigorating DOOM’s classic vocals while re-purposing The Sugarcubes in a manner that will delight. Indeed, if you’d didn’t know the work of Bjork’s former band, you’d be unlikely to pin an early 90s alt-rock LP as the sample source. I imagine listeners will have a hard time picking a favourite too. Perhaps Hit It (based on the track which triggered the project idea in the first) which splices the Bond-theme-ish Hit with My Favourite Ladies might prove the most popular, or the monkey’s favourite, Nurse Chong, which blends Happy Nurse with Raedawn (named for Tommy Chong’s daughter) from Viktor Vaughn LP Vaudeville Villain. Whichever one punters pick though, anyone who hears anything off this will know it’s one to rank alongside your other favourite hip-hop mash-up albums. And who knows – perhaps even Mr Daniel Dumile himself might have considered it a not unfitting epitaph.

The wisdom of Tony Allen's words was as deep as his grooves, and these two sentences, which announce the dozen songs that follow, truly capture the spirit of There is No End. Tony’s motivating concept and desire was to work with younger artists, and especially the new generation of rappers, and give them voice in a time of global turmoil when music has never been more important – not necessarily as a "weapon" for the future in the manner of Fela's violently political songs, but also as medicine to heal a fractured world today.



For all those who knew him, he was a deeply spiritual man whose life's mission was not just to create a new musical language, but to pass it on to subsequent generations. In thinking back on the incredible process of creating this album without Tony physically present to guide him, producer Vincent Taeger remarked that his friend and mentor "was a teacher without speaking... a drummer and a guardian, with a great artistic vision and that vision filled the songs even after he had left us." Ben Okri, like everyone else involved in this valedictory album, had a very similar experience, declaring in awe that "this man could have lived another 150 years and kept creating new worlds. He had become the master shaman of his art. He knew himself and his mind. He wanted the album to be open to the energies of a new generation... but like a great mathematician or scientist who found a code of for a new world, with just a few beats, he created this extraordinary canvas." Featured artists include Skepta, Sampa The Great, Lava La Rue, Danny Brown, Damon Albarn and many others

The trio of fiddle player Erlend Apneseth with guitarist Stephan Meidell and drummer Oyvind Hegg-Lunde follows up their Nordic Prize-nominated album of 2019, ‘Salika, Molika’, with a remarkable suite of tunes inspired by the rhythms and physicality of the human body in motion.
Originally commissioned by FRIKAR Dance Company to accompany the performance of a new work, ‘Skaut’, dealing with the covering of the body in different cultures, the music of ‘Lokk’ takes the trio further than ever before into completely fresh areas of electro-acoustic improvisation.
The sounds of their original instruments are integrated with electronic beats and treated textures to form a kind of enhanced digital-folk style whose influences stretch from traditional south Asian ragas to contemporary dance culture from around the globe.
The result is intense, and intensely rhythmic, music where the normally separate realms of the cerebral and the corporeal can appear to fuse into one irresistible groove.
As the trio rocks on - in a dream of perfect interplay between instruments and players, soloists and ensemble - deep, trembling sub-bass intersects with ethereal ambient soundscapes. Elsewhere, the twittering of birdsong - from both real bird-calls and the uncanny imitation of them by Apneseth’s Hardanger fiddle - meets archival recordings of Norwegian herdswomen.
“Our musical idea for this project was to unite different extremes, connections that felt “forbidden” in one form or another”, says Stephan Meidell. “For example, by using the sampled recording of traditional herd-calling, blended together with aesthetics from more contemporary music styles. This exploration has led us further into a rhythmic and danceable landscape than in previous releases. We also wanted to use this opportunity to deliberately make more dance-related music. As regards the original commission, were pretty free to do what we wanted, but there was one specific dance in mind, ‘Valdresspringar’, for which Erlend wrote the melody. It’s a traditional, asymmetrical dance and has a very particular form. The melody is on the track called ‘Springar’, which we then messed around with.”
This “messing around with” element is key to the sound of ‘Lokk’, whose playful experimentation over the nine separate tracks creates a beguiling, constantly surprising sense of adventure and intrigue that both draws the listener in, and then keeps them on their toes as to where the next stage of the journey will take them. It also becomes inescapably obvious that this is a group of three equals.
The contributions of Stephan Meidell and Oyvind Hegg-Lunde, as musicians, co-composers and producers, appear every bit as important as that of Erlend Apneseth, who performs superbly throughout. “Even though the trio carries Erlend’s name, it’s a band in every sense of the word”, says Stephan Meidell. “We make the music together, where everyone brings their ideas and we build on each other’s input and output. This is not our “coming out” as a band, but the group is sometimes interpreted as having a hierarchical structure, as a soloist and accompaniment.”
As is evident from the trio’s live performances, where each member seamlessly integrates the acoustic and the electronic elements in their respective sounds through constant monitoring and tweaking, Apneseth, Meidell and Hegg-Lunde are also pioneers,
creating real-time effects that in the past were only available through post-production or the intervention of a sympathetic engineer and a truck-load of kit. ‘Lokk’ translates this fleet-footed improvisational approach, and the players’ lightning-speed reaction times, back into the environment of the recording studio, where the music composed for the original FRIKAR dance piece was further embellished and adapted. Played live, it will continue to change again, as improvised music always does.

Repress!

"The latest release on Textasy's Berlin-based imprint further mines the interface between electro and jungle. DJ DR-660's EP is, as the name suggests, dedicated to carnal pleasures, whether it's cleverly flipping a familiar spoken word sample into speedy bass-heavy beats and slow jam smoothness on 'Talk 2 Me (Consent)' or combining Miami bass style lewdness and rolling breaks on 'Fuk Me From The Back (Da Bomb Edit)' The latter is especially good, fluidly alternating between rhythms and hip hop samples in a way that will excite dancefloors. Elsewhere, 'Rhodes Rec' has the kind of smokey keys you could expect in an ambient d&b number, but riding speedy juke/ghettotech drums and another rude vocal. The whole EP is fire. 9/10' - DJ MAG (words by Ben Murphy)

‘Voyager’, the seventh album from Current Joys, rattles with the
live-wire feeling that’s thrummed through all of Rattigan’s previous
releases: quavering, scream-itself-hoarse vocals and selfinterrogation via song. But here, that bristling, sentimental rock ‘n’
roll cacophony is overlaid with a soundtrack orchestra guiding it
along. It’s an odyssey, a grand-sounding journey of self-discovery
spread across sixteen tracks.
Part ekphrasis, part personal, it’s Rattigan learning new ways to
understand his own feelings and identity while inspired by the
highly-stylized, striking storytelling of filmmakers like Alfred
Hitchcock, Terrence Malick, Agnès Varda and Andrei Tarkovsky.
‘Voyager’ is unlike anything Current Joys has released before.
On his new album, Rattigan eschews lo-fi home recordings for a
full band and recording sessions at Stinson Beach Studios. As a
vocalist/drummer in his other band Surf Curse, Rattigan had finally
opened up to the possibility of working in a professional studio.
It’s all held together by the fervour of Rattigan’s creative process.
He believes in the premonitory power of music and he latches onto
the song ideas that strike him in the moment, propelled by an
abstract existentialism or burst of feeling more than anything else.
It imbues ‘Voyager’ with an intensity and intimacy - with the sense
that you’re getting to hear, all at once, the disparate parts that
make a project - or person - into a sprawling, cinematic whole.
Similar to Tame Impala or Mac Demarco in their early days,
Current Joys is singular and with a fanbase that extends far
outside of traditional indie fans. The band managed to establish an
indie and mainstream audience while flying under the radar of
DSPs and nearly all other industry levers. They are one of the first
indie bands to have their place fully created and cemented by
TikTok.
Double LP packaged in a gatefold sleeve

“My vision was big,” says Brighton-based singer Macve of the road to her second album. “I knew I wanted to do something more expansive than my first record.” With reach, feeling, storytelling power and a stop-you-dead voice, Macve sizes up to that mission boldly on Not The Girl. Following on from the rootsy saloon-noir conviction of her 2017 debut, Golden Eagle, Holly sets out for

deeper, often darker territory with a firm, unhurried sense of direction on her second record: on all fronts, it’s an album that looks its upscaled ambitions in the eye fearlessly.

For Macve, the combination of influences such as Nancy & Lee with time spent touring helped widen her horizons. “I wasn’t afraid of trying new things, and I wanted to explore sounds and develop my skills in production, composing and engineering. When I wrote the songs on Golden Eagle I had never toured, it was just me in my bedroom playing acoustic guitar. I then got the chance to tour the world with a band and sing with a symphony orchestra with Mercury Rev in 2017. My little world grew and I realised there was so much for me to learn about how I can use my skills as a singer and writer. I didn’t want to limit myself – I wanted to push my boundaries.”

At every turn, Macve’s powers of evocation are matched by the depth and strength in her voice. Witness the meeting of a plangent pedal-steel with her elastic vocal on the atmospheric “Be My Friend”, or the sultry verses and soaring chorus of “You Can Do Better”, which bring to mind a prairie-sized Mazzy Star. Guest guitarist Bill Ryder-Jones’ spacious contributions help enhance its sense of space. “Bill was an important part of the story of this record,” says Holly. “I love his playing – it helped create that kind of heavy, lazy, dreamy sound I’m such a fan of.”

Elsewhere, rich seams of contrast and counterpoint emerge. The Velvet Underground-ish “Sweet Marie” is epic drone-country, “Little, Lonely Heart” a symphonic waltz around the rootsy stuff of bad love, jealousy, and guilt. “Who Am I” merges a Phil Spector-ish wall of sound with a grunge-y melodic insouciance, while “Daddy’s Gone” finds Macve reflecting on the death of her father over Memphis soul-style backing, rendering complex emotions with controlled reserves of detail and drama before a roistering climax.

“My vision was big,” says Brighton-based singer Macve of the road to her second album. “I knew I wanted to do something more expansive than my first record.” With reach, feeling, storytelling power and a stop-you-dead voice, Macve sizes up to that mission boldly on Not The Girl. Following on from the rootsy saloon-noir conviction of her 2017 debut, Golden Eagle, Holly sets out for

deeper, often darker territory with a firm, unhurried sense of direction on her second record: on all fronts, it’s an album that looks its upscaled ambitions in the eye fearlessly.

For Macve, the combination of influences such as Nancy & Lee with time spent touring helped widen her horizons. “I wasn’t afraid of trying new things, and I wanted to explore sounds and develop my skills in production, composing and engineering. When I wrote the songs on Golden Eagle I had never toured, it was just me in my bedroom playing acoustic guitar. I then got the chance to tour the world with a band and sing with a symphony orchestra with Mercury Rev in 2017. My little world grew and I realised there was so much for me to learn about how I can use my skills as a singer and writer. I didn’t want to limit myself – I wanted to push my boundaries.”

At every turn, Macve’s powers of evocation are matched by the depth and strength in her voice. Witness the meeting of a plangent pedal-steel with her elastic vocal on the atmospheric “Be My Friend”, or the sultry verses and soaring chorus of “You Can Do Better”, which bring to mind a prairie-sized Mazzy Star. Guest guitarist Bill Ryder-Jones’ spacious contributions help enhance its sense of space. “Bill was an important part of the story of this record,” says Holly. “I love his playing – it helped create that kind of heavy, lazy, dreamy sound I’m such a fan of.”

Elsewhere, rich seams of contrast and counterpoint emerge. The Velvet Underground-ish “Sweet Marie” is epic drone-country, “Little, Lonely Heart” a symphonic waltz around the rootsy stuff of bad love, jealousy, and guilt. “Who Am I” merges a Phil Spector-ish wall of sound with a grunge-y melodic insouciance, while “Daddy’s Gone” finds Macve reflecting on the death of her father over Memphis soul-style backing, rendering complex emotions with controlled reserves of detail and drama before a roistering climax.

Jean Philippe Smet went to a different type school: while education came second, he spent most of his time in music halls. He began studio recording at 17 and was still there almost 60 years later, at 74. You can fool people for a long time and an audience for a brief moment, but no one could have fooled such a diverse fanbase for 57 years. There are only few examples, in France or anywhere else, of such longevity in the music industry.

Not only did Johnny Hallyday attract a horde of admirers around him, but he also never stopped growing his fans who stayed with him for 57 years. Staying at the top for five decades is only possible for an artist who combines sincerity with talent.

It is that combination of gifts and personality, along with the exceptional composers and writers surrounding him, that can explain why three years after his death, people are still looking for the slightest opportunity to get together and celebrate their idol.

There’sone word that unites everyone who loves Johnny Hallyday with the ones who don't; and this word is 'Respect'. This record is available in crystal clear with a printed inner sleeve!”

Straight Outta Caledonia is the first commercially available “Greatest Hits” of the outsider songwriter Jackie Leven, an artist
who has largely remained in obscurity in his native Scotland despite being one of the greatest wordsmiths – and singers – it ever
produced. A well-travelled musician who began making psychedelic, progressive music in the late 60s before emerging as an
epic storyteller full of pathos, humour and humanity in the 90s, Leven lived and wrote like many of the fragile, gregarious
characters of his songs; large, full of life and empathy. Leven passed away in 2011 after recording 30+ albums under different
guises or with his briefly successful New Wave band Doll by Doll. Straight Outta Caledonia is a compilation collated by Night
School Records on its Archival label School Daze that seeks to introduce Leven’s music to new generations.
In an age of isolation, alienation and loss of visceral experience, Jackie Leven’s music can be massive and welcoming. It feels
connected to some universal humanity and vibrates with vitality. His songs are often full of tragedy and comedy simultaneously,
cutting straight to the heart, often plugging directly into the nervous system of the listener. His lyrics are rich, dense with imagery
that can veer from apocalyptic to the comically banal in a sentence, with a songwriting panache that can be heavy handed to
almost bursting point before skewering the song with a clownish, warm punchline. His productions ranged from Bob Dylan’s
Rolling Thunder Revue style rock band orchestrations with strings and organ as on the epic Ancient Misty Morning or they could
be pared down to the purest form of folk song as on Poortoun: Leven on stage alone with an acoustic guitar, albeit played with a
mastery of the instrument that he often only hinted at. Musically his sound can bend traditional structures or stay completely
confined within them yet still forever push towards an ecstatic release, as on the cinematic Snow In Central Park.
The most exciting, jaw-droppingly effective tool at Leven’s disposal was his voice. A multi-octave instrument that, though
damaged during a savage assault in Fife, he used with flair; he had both a brazen disregard for the rules and a deep humility, all
of which is evidenced with every phrasing. A baritone that could flit up through the register – always touched by his gentle
Kirkcaldy accent – it’s the prime delivery method for his songs. Leven’s voice enabled him to inhabit the characters in his songs to
an uncanny degree, a skill that in turn enables the listener to empathise with them and, subsequently, the singer. It’s most evident
in stand out song The Sexual Loneliness Of Jesus Christ, a breathtaking re-telling of the life of its protagonist, not as a pure,
sinless messiah but as a sexually frustrated, solitary man condemned to an existential loneliness no one else will ever feel. In
many ways the track is the archetypal Jackie Leven song. Produced by Pere Ubu’s David Thomas, what strikes the ear first –
after the samples of unemployed workers in Glasgow following the closing of the Clyde shipyards – is the audacious, rhythmic
tremolo effect Leven employs through the verses before the production opens up to allow Leven’s vocal to lift into a soar, a
freeing glide powered both by the force of the singer’s chutzpah and the inherent, doomed destiny of the protagonist. With any
other singer such subject matter could come across as gauche or worse, pretentiously sonorous, but Jackie Leven’s genius was
such that he could be this cinematic and brazen while touching something elemental and true in the beholder. It’s a skill evident in
every song on Straight Outta Caledonia, the trademark of a songwriter who revelled and excelled in intensity with a lightness of
touch.
In his lifetime, Jackie Leven toured, wrote and recorded at a ferocious rate. He recorded under aliases to avoid record contract
restrictions, played house shows in Europe after or instead of official concerts, events which were often spoken word story telling
masterclasses as well as performances of his often bewilderingly dense songbook. His music has traditionally been catalogued
as “folk” music and has been largely banished to a small, dedicated group of international fans and apostles both private and well
known, like author Ian Rankin or Glenn Matlock. Since his passing in 2011 however, there has been a growing recognition
amongst a newer generation, with artists like James Yorkston or Molly Nilsson publicly stating the influence of the unsung
troubadour on their own craft. Jackie Leven’s fairytales for hard men are often forensic deconstructions of masculinity, sad and
ecstatic, light and shadow, always endlessly rich, a resource as bountiful as Leven himself’s human spirit undoubtedly was.