High Roller Records, 180g schwarzes Vinyl, limitiert auf 500 Stück, 425gsm schweres Kartoncover, 2 Einleger, Poster, gemastert für Vinyl von Patrick W. Engel bei TEMPLE OF DISHARMONY im Februar 2022.
Crafted entirely on an analog monophonic synthesizer with no overdubs, Pièces Monophoniques is a tribute to simplicity in an era of limitless digital possibilities. Since his debut album, Music For Prophet (Les Disques du Festival Permanent, 2017), Majorca-born composer Marc Melià, now a long-time resident of Brussels, has been redefining the contours of electronic music through a minimalist, reductionist approach. Much like a solitary hike through the vastness of mountains, where one carries only the essentials, Melià’s work invites listeners on a journey stripped of excess, focusing instead on the purity of sound and intention.
While some have dismissed monophonic music as overly simplistic, others have embraced its distinct charm. Historical records, such as those by Johannes Quasten, reveal that early Church leaders were drawn to monophonic music because it resonated with the era's cosmological beliefs, highlighting the harmony and unity of all creation. In an age of digital abundance, Marc Melià deliberately embraces constraint, crafting an album that thrives within a limited palette of choices. Yet, from these self-imposed boundaries emerges a stunning universe, brimming with rich textures and elegant harmonies. For his debut album, Melià worked exclusively with a Sequential Prophet. With Pièces Monophoniques, his third LP, he returns armed solely with an analog monophonic synthesizer and handcrafted MIDI sequences etched directly onto a single stereo track. These recordings seek to uncover beauty within the boundaries of limitations and simplicity, rejecting any embellishments that are not essential. Melià presents the bare skeleton of music, highlighting the power of absence and silence as creative forces. Like the hidden mass of an iceberg, what is not heard becomes as significant as what is heard.
The album navigates the boundary where the quest for an uninhibited emotional response intersects with the mechanical sounds generated by synthesizer circuitry. Despite being a collection of beatless tracks, a pulse occasionally surfaces, like in the closing piece, "224 Steps. A sharp sequence blended with multiple delays and reverbs creates the vaporous celestial specter of multiple voices in "Illusions of Polyphony", while "Échoes et Fantasies" conjures the illusion of dual harmony. The expansive reverbs and silences between the euphoric synth phrases in "Overture" transport us to an imaginary magestic landscape shaped out of an electric field. "Resonances," a one-note drone-like sequence, embodies the album's aims as a series of resonances created with the synth filter emerge from the fundamental note.
"Pièces Monophoniques," aims to contribute to a tradition that dates back to the dawn of humanity. After all, there is no denying that the earliest music crafted by humanity was monophonic, from the soothing lullabies sung to newborns to Gregorian chants, traditional labor songs, and the repertoire of solo compositions by countless composers.
Corrosiv, the sophomore album from Orchestroll, reveals the duo at their most mature and vulnerable. Originally conceived as a reflection on hybridity and bastardization, the album deploys New Age and ambient compositional tropes as a launchpad, exposing their trite sanctity to the realities of corrosion. Having come of age in the 1970s and 1980s, the New Age movement perdures today as a domain of contradictions; its promise of transcendence riddled with the very commercialized dogma from which its adherents claim to flee. Healing modalities such as reiki, crystal therapy, and sound baths are simultaneously pathways to solace and sites of exploitation; their sonic counterparts—ethereal synth pads, shimmering textures, celestial drones—claim to facilitate meditation and enlightenment while devolving into empty signifiers of vitality. With Corrosiv, Orchestroll displays neither reverence nor disdain toward New Age: they exhume it instead, revealing the saccharine effervescence and commodified murk undergirding its aesthetics. The result is intoxicating—disquieting.
Born from a two-week residency at EMS Studios and expanded through a performance at MUTEK Montreal’s 25th anniversary, Corrosiv has since outgrown its original conceptual nucleus, taking on a broader scope. Its inquiry into New Age ideology’s voided rhetoric and aesthetic mysticism now informs a broader interrogation of cultural mediocrity, anti-authoritarianism, gatekeeping, music industry toxicity, and the crumbling edifice of late capitalism and techno-feudalism—all the mechanisms by which meaning is stripped from ceremony, and once-potent forms of knowledge are subsumed into the machinery of economic extraction, severed from their original essence, and transformed into hollow simulacra. Corrosiv distills these themes through a loose narrative: a soul, fixated on wellness as dictated by cosmetic economism, becomes ensnared in an endless afterlife, unable to transcend and shed its dilapidated consciousness.
Framed as an act of audio dissolution, the album thus engages in an alchemical process, whereby complex waveshaping, morphing synthesis, and distortion enact a ritual of fragmentation. There is also friction: between the rigid, mechanical imposition of systematized order and the untamed, chaotic force of organic metamorphosis. Here corrosion and confinement are not solely conceptual motifs; they are enacted in real time, sculpting the album’s terrain. Scraping, tarnishing, degradation—the languid wear of form and substance—become instruments in their own right: buffing as abrasion, entrapment as transformation, corrosion as a means of reconfiguration. The ‘protagonist,’ if there must be one, is the listener, caught within the throes of structural determinism and the potential for emancipation, unable to pass into something greater as the specters of collapsed futures accumulate in the margins.
Corrosiv extends its reach through collaborations with familiar voices: Heith (PAN), VISIO (Haunter), Femminielli (Drowned by Locals), Habib Bardi (Interzone), and Jiyoung Wi (Enmossed, Psychic Liberation, Doyenne) each leave their imprint on its sprawling landscape. At 1h16m, it is a procession, dense with earworms that burrow into the listener’s unconscious.
Misshapen, broken-down metals leach copper into blood, acid reflux burning through the core. Psyche disaggregates into cosmic turmoil, drifting between planes—tongue on rustline, gullet laced with solvent hymns, molars unlatching, bitcrushed to marrowspill. A spasm of brine, ferrous scripture, venomtext blooming in leaden rivulets, cartilage smoldering in phosphor decomposition, synapses drowning in a quicksilver choir. Crest of bile, churning ore, breath clotting into arsenic mist, vein-thread cinched, a corrosive gospel, limb by limb, oxidized to silence.
Ultimately, as the music exhales its final breath, its residue refuses to dissipate—and stillness alone remains. There are no conclusions here—no resolution, no collapse—only the slow drift outward of a vessel unmoored, lost in the sea of symbolic souring. Corrosiv sings the song of a world barren of prophecy, littered with aesthetic detritus. Whether this magic has been transfigured or simply worn away is unclear: the last breath dissipates, but the oxidation does not stop. The silence, too, will decay.
Conceptualized, composed, performed, recorded, mixed, engineered and produced by Jesse Osborne-Lanthier, and Asaël Richard-Robitaille in 2023 and 2024 at Elektron Musik Studion (EMS) - Stockholm, Sweden and Landsc8pe Studio - Montréal, QC, Canada.
Artwork by Jesse Osborne-Lanthier.
Mastered by Stephan Mathieu @ Schwebung Mastering.
Ukrainian composer Katarina Gryvul presents her third LP, SPOMYN, on Subtext. SPOMYN ('recollection') is an exploration of memory’s fragile, fragmented nature, revealing how it shapes the core of who we are. Each track is a fragment — a flicker of something lost, distorted, or forgotten — brought to life through unmediated emotion, acting as an invocation of continuity, connecting us to those who came before us and the fleeting moments of their existence that still resonate within us, and become elements in the lattice of our own selves. Gryvul’s corrupted choral pop compositions, augmented with full frequency electronic and organic experimentation, characterize SPOMYN’s uncanny and chimeric sound. Much like the blurred edges of memory itself, SPOMYN resists resolution, inviting listeners to disintegrate into worlds that linger in shadow and evoke the beauty of the unknowable.
Following her last LP Tysha (‘silence'), released in early 2022 on the Ukrainian imprint Standard Deviation, SPOMYN finds itself in a changed and fractured world in which the urgency to maintain a clear remembrance of the past in the face of erasure and misinformation is ever increasing.
Katarina Gryvul explores the simultaneously fixed and fluid nature of collective and personal narratives by filtering the remembrances of her cultural and musical experience through an idiosyncratic and intuitive approach to music production. The result is aggressively iconoclastic while holding dear the essence of the traditions she has inherited. Katarina Gryvul is a classically trained composer, violinist, and music producer. She blends concept of holophony with avant-garde techniques to develop distinct soundscapes through instruments, voice, analog synths and spatial audio.
Fit for Consequences: Original Recordings, 1984–1987 is the first ever archival release from Repetition Repetition, the “two-man electric minimalist band” consisting of Ruben Garcia and Steve Caton hailing from Los Angeles in the mid 1980’s. Repetition Repetition’s unique blend of cosmic art-rock minimalism / maximalism was self-released across a series of cassettes produced in micro editions, and while garnering the attention and participation of luminaries such as Harold Budd, remained under the radar during the band’s existence. Fit for Consequences: Original Recordings, 1984–1987 collects select material from across the duo’s catalog.
It was over a plate of Mexican breakfast food when Ruben Garcia and Steve Caton first told Harold Budd of Repetition Repetition and the worlds they intended to explore by respective way of synthesizers and guitars --- a rendezvous instigated by the former’s fan mail to the legendary composer. If the upstarts entered this restaurant from a one-way street of admiration, they would leave with not only Budd’s interest but, sometime later, a blessing in the wake of many hours shared by the three in Garcia’s Los Angeles home recording studio: “This is going to be difficult, but God help them, I think they’re great,” noted Budd in a USC lecture in 1985. Now several degrees removed from prior rock music aspirations, the real game was afoot.
Between 1984 and 1988, Repetition Repetition operated within something akin to the underground of the experimental underground, although even that designation perhaps overstates the case. The duo’s sparse output consisted of three cassettes self-released on Garcia’s Third Stone Music label: Repetition Repetition (1985), Lakeland (1987), and The Machinist (1987). Their songs would also be included during this period on Trance Port Tapes’ vital scene-scanning compilations assembled by A Produce. Live performances occurred with similar infrequency, but Garcia and Caton counted converts in quality over quantity, numbering among them the aforementioned Budd, a Chambers Brother, and, judging by a memorably drop-jawed reaction following a rare Repetition Repetition gig, Jackson Browne.
Likewise, critical support materialized in the form of KCRW deejays Brent Wilcox and Dean Suzuki, whose steady airplay positioned Repetition Repetition’s music amidst fearless company like Jon Hassell, Hiroshi Yoshimura, and Richard Horowitz. Yet, to hear fellow Trance Port featured players like Tom Recchion and Bruce Licher of Savage Republic tell it, Garcia and Caton moved as ghosts --- a notion more vexingly endorsed by the silence of record companies that failed to come knocking --- and therein lies an overarching truth to the work itself.
Journey to the heart of Repetition Repetition and one discovers a collective ear impossibly attuned to the hypnotic possibilities of stylistic convergence, the resulting music possessed of seamless multimodalities which beckon to a glimmering plane of the disembodied. Where Caton sought his artistic fixes at an intersection of popular genres, Garcia zoned in on the sonically spare, drawing from the same wellspring as the Enos and Rileys of his personal avant-garde pantheon, and in their coming together the two tapped into a deeper cosmic source. Synthetic walls of keyboard sound in forever states of reprise met waves of shimmering --- and at times even punishing --- guitar in reply, their soundscapes hovering convincingly between, as suggested in fittingly dualistic fashion in a press kit assembled by Garcia, such disparate sensations as bird flight in one song and oil drilling in the next.
But don’t call it a push-pull dynamic, as this was a creative partnership founded upon fluidity and organicism by way of, naturally, repetition. In contrast to, say, the Bressonian ideal of repetitive motion as a great stripping away, the concept in the hands of Garcia and Caton equated to ascendancy via continuous unfolding, a maximal route to minimalism. To be sure, their recording philosophy morphed over the course of the act’s short history, and what started as a process defined by consistent in-person interplay developed into a more isolated method formulated by Garcia, who eventually took to his own one-man bedroom-studio sessions in order to fully chart any and all potential ostinato-loaded paths which he could travel down, the Tascam-captured resonances subsequently provided to Caton as blueprints from which to take flight himself, adding layer upon layer of steel to the proceedings.
If the practice and execution changed, however, the evidence certainly didn’t rest in the results: The seamlessness remained, and, despite the brevity of their time together, so has Repetition Repetition. With this finely calibrated collection of songs in Fit for Consequences: Original Recordings, 1984–1987, Freedom To Spend sees to it that the private worlds of Garcia and Caton can now be visited by all rather than just the count-‘em-on-both-hands lucky few whose musical endeavors or collector vocations carried them into this once-distant dimension.
Repetition Repetition’s Fit for Consequences: Original Recordings, 1984–1987 will be released on Freedom To Spend in vinyl and digital editions on May 30, 2025. The collection includes extensive liner notes from Bill Perrine, and wil be offered alongside Over & Over, a supplemental collection of music available exclusively as a mail order cassette from Freedom To Spend and RVNG Intl.
'Fly', Michael Mayo's highly anticipated follow-up to his critically-acclaimed debut album, delves deeply into the genre of jazz, allowing his prior collaborations with mentor Herbie Hancock, producer Eli Wolf and Scary Pockets (among others) to fourish on a mix of familiar takes of jazz classics and bold, adventurous originals Showcasing his remarkable versatility and exceptional talent while backed by an allstar band including pianist Shai Maestro, bassist Linda May Han Oh and drummer Nate Smith, 'Fly' solidifes his prowess within the jazz realm, allowing his unique artistry to truly shine. This second pressing is on classic black vinyl.
As the leader of new outfit Sarter Kit, saxophonist Tara Sarter is creating a unique form of minimal, experimental jazz drawing on humanist principles and shared experiences. Her uncluttered and emotionally heavy debut album 'What I am and What I'm Not' creates an open, instrumental soundworld, where breaks and silences command equal gravitas as the notes and beats.
The masterful drumming of Lukas Akintaya dances between oblique patterns in odd meters, into rolling grooves and afrobeat inspired rhythms. On keys and synth, Elias Stemeseder creates tension and releases, with lingering chords and fragile melodies. Stemeseder's synthesizer work throughout the album is subtle yet masterful. Stalking the silence between the sax, drums and piano, creating a haze of digital textures within the margins of the music. Much of the album was recorded live, preserving the raw, unedited energy of their performances.
Beyond its musical qualities, 'What I am and What I'm Not' is a reflection of Sarter's belief in the power of music as a form of human connection. For Sarter, music is not about proving technical prowess but about creating something meaningful, something that transcends barriers and speaks to the shared experience of being human.
LP in printed inner sleeve. The Joy of Coincidences is the debut album from the intriguing Barcelona-born and raised musician and singer-songwriter of British and German descent. The songs are stories and related feelings that reflect upon mankind observed through our eyes in different circumstances. This reflection is told through intimate music coming from folk-inspired pop.
The Joy of Coincidences is the debut album from the intriguing Barcelona-born and raised musician and singer-songwriter of British and German descent. Within the midst of movement, noise and chaos of the city, Bianca Steck searched for calmness and silence in order to write these twelve songs. Whether in a bar, on a tram, under a tree in a park, on a bench or on the balcony of her little apartment in Brussels overlooking the square, there must always be room for curiosity regarding the world we live in. Hence, this album was born through her compelling need for a conscious observation of our society and surroundings.
The songs are stories and related feelings that reflect upon mankind observed through our eyes in different circumstances and the consequent understanding of ourselves along this process. This reflection is told through intimate music coming from folk-inspired pop. Rooted in classical tradition, Bianca Steck chooses instruments such as harp, cello, double bass, upright piano, and flugelhorn and blends these warm sounds with synths, omnichord, drums, electric bass... in a very delicate way in order to create a dreamy landscape of sound. This carefully chosen music together with lyrics that tell real down to earth stories seen through the eyes of her imaginary world are the realm of this work.
BiancaSteck sees coincidences as small and playful interruptions of our everyday concerns, of life. We live in extremely uncertain times where many worries reign over our minds and there needs to be some kind of lightheartedness to move forward, to survive. Within all this complex spiral of thoughts, in the Joy of Coincidences the essential seed of simplicity prevails over the existential crisis.
The album is produced together with Catalan pianist and composer Nil Ciuró and features guest appearance Hania Rani with whom Bianca Steck toured as a support act across London, Paris, Berlin, Utrecht, Antwerp and other European cities and venues.
All demos were recorded in her apartment in Brussels with very simple means and were later on recorded in a studio in the mountains of Catalunya.
In 2017, Matthias launched his record label named Superluminal, after the astronomic motion observed in 1902 by Jacobus Kapteyn in the ejecta of the nova GK Persei, which had exploded in 1901. His discovery was published in the German journal Astronomische Nachrichten, and received little attention from English-speaking astronomers until many decades later. It appears to travel faster than light, its existence could conceal the most inexplicable mysteries of our universe which gave birth to many of the secrets hidden in the path of mysticism and esotericism.
The label celebrates its 8th Anniversary with Matthias’s first self-released album. The instalment pays homage to the roots and influences the artist has genuinely embraced throughout the years. An immersive composition which summons a line from the sounds of the past to the present, designed meticulously and displayed within gatefold cover.
It certainly manifests a polyhedral vein with some very cerebral, experimental songs among more dancefloor oriented music. The artist delves into a self exploratory leap of synth-driving notes, striking chords of late decaying dub pianos. Certainly a journey that pairs conceptual alignment with more clubby-essential, stripped-down recordings.
The song’s progression evokes atmospheres from the far out worlds, carved into a space-echoing psychedelic trip with sinister tribal-percussive rhythm. The song’s arrangements are simple-complex drum’s versatile patterns, forged and elegantly blended into cinematic soundscapes.
This is a one way ride to the forest of mysteries, from which, there is no return. The time of the day between dusk and night, when it gets dark.
After a near-total silence of twenty years, Edith Frost is back again, and in full bloom with In Space. Her first new record since 2005"s It"s a Game is just in time - the world needs Edith"s voice back in the conversation. And her ineffable way with a tune . . . It seems Edith needed something, too: from the notebooks of her long hiatus, a line like "I say too much/I wait too long/I wait forever/And notice that it"s gone" speaks volumes about feelings of lack. Overwhelmed by the demands of day-to-day living and the details and anxieties that always come, Edith squirreled herself away for as long as she could - only to find herself isolated, spun even farther into the doldrums. In Space isn"t simply a song-cum-album title so much as a very real exploration of the remote place she"d found herself, with her songs registering this recognition and measuring the vast distances between herself, the life that is and the life that was. It was the only way back in! Over the years away, Edith was immersed in music everyday, and spent lots of time learning - in addition to new lyric perspectives, her reinvention of herself as a keyboard player is one of the waves lifting the album In Space. The keys suggested different places within Edith"s harmonic palette; for us listening, this attenuation seems to create a deep focus on emotional life within the songs and a breathtakingly visceral presence in the performances. Her voice as well, in all its iterations, sounds quite fine and vital. The songs, as ever, are low-key brilliance elevated by the vitality of Edith"s voice. Mark Greenberg, alongside longtime Frost A&R man Rian Murphy, brought fresh arrangement ideas to complement the strange-new-world vibe of Edith"s songs. Recorded at The Loft in Chicago, with invaluable contributions from Jim Becker (Califone, Air Blue Gowns), Sima Cunningham (Finom, formerly OHMME), Bill MacKay and Jeff Ragsdale, In Space feels like the most Edith Frost record yet made, pulled from deep inside with great feeling, awash in harmonized voices and - more often than ever before - featuring her own playing. Alternatively approaching and avowing connection, Edith"s crafty songwriting orbits the human exchange with an increasing sense of possibility. It"s what the world needs the most of today.
Within Tiga’s stripped-down electronic funk and Hudson Mohawke’s grandiose beats exists a common thread; an idea Tiga expresses as “hardcore romance”. Recorded in Los Angeles over the last few years, these commonalities ebbed and flowed through various recordings, culminating in their debut album - L’Ecstasy. Turbo revisits the album with a set of club-driven remixes, bringing together Keinemusik’s Reznik, Montreal masters Priori & Patrick Holland as Jump Source, and Berghain stalwart Quelza. Pressed loud on a stunning 12” picture disc, featuring imagery from none-other-than Wolfgang Tillmans.
Loyle Carner will release his highly anticipated sophomore record, 'Not Waving, But Drowning' on 19 April via AMF Records.
'Not Waving, But Drowning' follows Loyle's BRIT (Best Male, Best Newcomer) and Mercury Prize nominated, top 20 debut 'Yesterday's Gone'. The bedrock of honest and raw sentimentality that you heard on 'Yesterday's Gone' left an inextinguishable mark on music in general and UK Hip Hop in particular, standing out as an ageless, bulletproof debut.
'Not Waving, But Drowning', Loyle's new album, gives yet more evidence - as if it were needed - of his razor-sharp flow and his unique storytelling ability. Yes, he can rap, but he allies that with the sensitivity of a poet, the observational skills of a novelist, and warmth of your best friend. The album opens with 'Dear Jean', a letter to his mother in which he's telling her that he has found the love of his life, 'a woman from the skies', and he's moving out.
It goes without saying that Loyle's music is hard to categorise, but what is even more impressive is that for someone who grew up listening to Mos Def, Biggie Smalls, Roots Manuva, and Wu Tang Clan, he doesn't sound like any of them. Although he might from time to time give lyrical nods to them, he's no imitator.
Loyle loves cooking. There are two tracks on this album named after chefs. The British-Israeli chef Yotam Ottolenghi, and the now deceased Italian chef Antonio Carluccio. 'Ottolenghi' the first single from the album was featured on the BBC Radio 1 B-list, BBC 6 Music A-list and has already been streamed over 5 million times.
Loyle refers to real life for everything, the title of 'Yesterday's Gone' came from a song of his step father, the title of his new album 'Not Waving, But Drowning' comes from a poem by his grandfather, which in turn came from a Stevie Smith poem. What you hear on the track 'Krispy' is real. He is pouring his heart out to his best friend Rebel Kleff after their relationship went downhill, he invites him on the track to say his piece but he doesn't turn up, so we get a flugel solo instead.
Loyle also has his own personal black consciousness movement. When he refers to his 'fathers' in the track 'Looking Back' he really is referring to two fathers. His biological father, a black man who he knows, but knows very little of, and his step father, a poet and musician who happens to be a white man but died a sudden unexpected death from epilepsy (SUDEP). With no real emotional ties to his biological father, but a deep connection with a deceased step-father, where does a young child turn He succinctly captures many of the great, unspoken, cultural and historical paradoxes of multicultural Britain on 'Looking Back'.
An album like this is hard to find. It is for those who like their Hip Hop to have soul, and their soul to have spirit. This is because it works on so many levels, but it is reflecting the personality of its creator. There are a host of collaborators here, Jorja Smith, Rebel Kleff, Kiko Bun, Kwes, Jordan Rakei, Sampha, Tom Misch and more, but none are overpowering. They blend righteously into place.
Loyle is not bitter with people who have let him down, or a society that lets so many down, but the combination of anger and love he has gives his voice the perfect blend of strength and vulnerability. This might be a coming of age album, but it's also a coming of ageless album. Loyle's 2019 Spring tour - which includes London's Roundhouse - sold out within 20 minutes of being on sale.
Not Waving, But Drowning
A rapper that raps about family is hard to find. The boys in the 'hood' tend not to be that interested in how much a 'brother' loves his mother, or how much he misses his dad, or even how much he misses his best friend. The boys in the 'hood' tend to be obsessed with the size of their cars, girls, bank accounts, and other personal 'possessions'. Loyle Carner's Mercury and BRIT Prize nominated debut 'Yesterday's Gone' (Released 2017), made it clear that he wasn't that kind of rapper. In fact, every time I talk to him about his work we talk about the world, and we tended to confuse ourselves by calling his work rap, poems, or songs, sometimes in the same sentence. They are in truth all of these things.
Here's some poetry.
Honestly I need them.
I hate them but I grieve them
I think I've finally found the reason
Trust
Like the fire needs the air.
I won't burn unless you're there.
'Not Waving, But Drowning', Loyle's forthcoming new album, gives us yet more evidence, (if it were needed), that he still has what rappers call, flow, but he hasn't lost any of his story telling qualities. Yes, the boy can rap, but a rapper with the sensitivity of a true poet, the observational skills of a novelist, and warmth of your best friend. The album opens with 'Dear Jean', a letter to his mother in which he's telling her that he has found the love of his life, (a woman from the skies), and he's moving out. He really loves the woman from the skies, but he still loves his mum, and so he reassures her that there is no competition, and tells her that 'She's not behind me or behind you, but beside we and beside two', his words. Or to put it another way, moving out without moving out. My words.
It goes without saying that Loyle's music is hard to categorise, but what is even more impressive is that for someone who grew up listening to Mos Def, Biggie Smalls, Roots Manuva, and Wu Tang Clan, he doesn't sound like any of them. Although he might from time to time give lyrical nods to them, he's no imitator. He says finding his own voice was something he always found easy. Although young, (in terms of a musical career), he has confidence in his own words and his own voice, and has never been tempted to sound like he's been hanging out in the USA, or rolling in 'Grime' on the mean streets of East London. And so when it comes to the creative process he doesn't simply find a beat to jump on and ride. Beats are important, but they are tenderly layered with samples, keyboards, or live drums, all imaginatively assembled for the laying on of words. Some tracks start with the idea, some with poetry, and some with a verse from a singer or some other melodic inspiration, but there is no formula.
Here's some poetry.
Don't hold any memories of us
Rather hold you everyday until the memories are dust
Yo we only caught the train
Cos you know I hate the bus
A prolific reader, who has dyslexia is hard to find. Add ADHD (Attention deficit hyperactivity disorder) to that and life should become even more difficult. To deal with your difficulties you devise coping strategies, which can differ from person to person. Loyle loves cooking. There are two tracks on this album named after chefs. The British-Israeli chef Ottolenghi, and the now deceased Italian chef Antonio Carluccio. Loyle describes himself as 'weird' because he is happy to read a cookbook as if he was reading a novel or a book of poetry. He has opened a cookery school for young adults not just because he loves food and wants to make more of it, but because it is one of the few things that can focus the ADHD mind. And when it comes to his other love, football, his approach is the same. Focus. He wanted to be a striker he says, up front scoring goals, but found his best position was in midfield because he was able to focus, check options, and see passes ahead of time, providing passes for other players just when they needed them. He says, 'You don't grow out of ADHD, you grow into it.' Loyle is also working with Levi's® on their music project where he is mentoring young musicians over a six month period, culminating at Liverpool Sound City festival.
More poetry.
When the going is tough
I wait till it falls on deaf ears
Hearsay
Without the boundaries of love
He also said, 'Ask most people and they will say that they love their mothers, but most are not going to rap about her'. On his first album Loyle's mum Jean wrote about the 'scribble of a boy' that growing up would take things apart to see how they worked. On this album she speaks with pride about a man who has found his place in the world.
Yes, poetry.
I'm still looking for the answers
Trying to find the right questions
Still waiting for my fathers
But can't break them in to sections
This poetry is serious. Loyle has his own personal black consciousness movement. He told me that he always felt safe at home, and being the darkest one in the family never meant a thing, but then when he had to face the outside world he felt hostility. It shook him up. Now he had to start asking questions, but what were the questions. This is serious. When he refers to his 'fathers' in the verse above taken from the track 'Looking Back' he really is referring to two fathers. His biological father, a black man who he knows, but knows very little of, and his step father, a poet and musician who happens to be a white man but died a sudden unexpected death from epilepsy (SUDEP). So to whom would a young black (or mixed race) kid turn He succinctly captures many of the great, unspoken, cultural and historical paradoxes of multicultural Britain when he says, 'My great grandfather could of owned my other one.' We are a people descended from enslaved people on one hand, and enslavers on the other, something we are still struggling to come to terms with, and this can be apparent in one family. A big book could have told you that, but here we get it in one line on the track, Looking Back.
Loyle refers to real life for everything. The album is peppered with captured moments that he records on his phone. These moments can range from conversations with taxi drivers, to capturing the moment when England scores a goal in the world cup. The title of 'Yesterday's Gone' came from a song of his step father, the title of his new album 'Not Waving but Drowning' comes from a poem by his grandfather, which in turn came from a Stevie Smith poem. What you hear on the track 'Krispy' is real. He is pouring his heart out to his best friend after their relationship went downhill, he invites him on the track to say his piece but he doesn't turn up, so we get a flugel solo instead. Yes people, this is real.
An album like this is hard to find. It is for those who like their Hip Hop to have soul, and their soul to have spirit, this is an album for those who have, (I'm sorry, I'm going to say it), emotional intelligence. This is because it works on so many levels, but it is reflecting the personality of its creator. There are a host of collaborators here, Jorja Smith, Rebel Kleff, Kiko Bun, Jordan Rakei, Sampha, Tom Misch and more, but none are overpowering. They blend righteously into place. Loyle is not bitter with people who have let him down, or the society that has let him down, but the combination of anger and love he has gives his voice the perfect blend of strength and vulnerability. This might be a coming of age album, but it's also a coming of ageless album. His first album worked, and this second album is a continuation of that work. Not creating a form, but being formless, as someone like Bruce Lee once said.
And here's some poetry from mum.
We talked long in to the darkest hours
Until we saw the burnished sky
And our eyes stung
As our words blurred and became thoughts
As we were silenced by the dawn
We clung to each other like sailors in a storm
Tape
On Repetitions, New York-based Swiss artist and composer Samuel Reinhard brings us close enough to a piece of music that its systematic nature begins to buckle and fade. Across four movements, three pianos pursue their own respective threadbare motifs, which overlap at the hands of a predetermined ratio of duration. What unfolds—at first glance slow, melancholic, deliberate, even plain—is a study of repetition’s in-betweens, populated by unexpected resonances and delicate traces of notes in the process of being played by human hands. The three pianos are not in sync, but are nevertheless in relation, the nature of which shifts with the listener’s orientation and attention. Each piece within Repetitions arrives as a constant whole, containing harmonies and silences that are in a never-ending process of unfurling.
Repetitions is a joint release from Hallow Ground and Präsens Editionen and follows offerings by Kali Malone, Lawrence English, and FUJI | | | | | | | | | | TA on Hallow Ground, and Robert Turman, Magda Drozd, and Anna Homler on Präsens Editionen.
* Edition of 100 professionally dubbed cassette tapes
* special artwork by artist Jeff Rossi, graphic desing by Coline Houot
Die Schachtel Records is proud to present Ifigenia/Oreste, a new vinyl LP by celebrated Italian composer Paolo Spaccamonti. This album marks the seventh installment in the label's renowned Decay Music series, which has become synonymous with deeply emotive, abstract, and electronic/ambient music, which has so fare featured works of such names as Stefano Pilia, Giovanni di Domenico, Sandro Mussida, Vértice, Damavand and Claudio Rocchetti. Aim of the series is composing a fascinating scenario of the most interesting names of experimental musicians – mainly of Italian origins - working at the intersection of sound and music, abstract and visual, storytelling and abstract composition.
Paolo Spaccamonti has long been a significant figure in the contemporary music scene, known for his ability to bridge the worlds of instrumental, electronic, and experimental music. His most recent release, Nel Torbido (2023), is a testament to his ever-evolving artistry. With Nel Torbido, Spaccamonti delivered a haunting and immersive sonic experience that oscillates between tension and release, bringing together moody soundscapes, unsettling textures, and his signature understated guitar work. His exploration of silence, noise, and melodic tension has earned him recognition as one of the most unique voices in modern composition.
Composed by Spaccamonti, Ifigenia/Oreste is the original score for the theatrical production IFIGENIA / ORESTE, directed by Valerio Binasco and produced by Teatro Stabile di Torino. The music, both haunting and subtle, mirrors the play's minimalist and intense staging, immersing listeners in an evocative soundscape that blends ambient textures with guitar-driven melodies. The music was recorded and processed by Filippo Conti, with additional production and mixing by Stefano Pilia. The vinyl’s design has been crafted by Bruno Stucchi of Dinamomilano, making this release a fusion of sound, visual, staging and cultural reference.
In reflecting on his collaboration with director Valerio Binasco, Spaccamonti said: "From the first meeting with Valerio, it was clear that we aimed to create a production stripped of any unnecessary stylistic embellishments. Ifigenia and Oreste had to be severe, devoid of visual distractions, simple yet extreme in its own way. I sought to follow the same path with the music. The foundation is always the guitar, but I wanted to avoid overloading it, either harmonically or sonically. Sometimes, I treated it like a fragmented background noise; other times, I ventured into more aggressive, melancholic, or even melodic terrains, but always in a very human way. The text demanded an atmosphere that lived in the alternation of silence and rarefaction, like in the films of Bresson and Lanthimos. Short scenes interrupted by moments of darkness. In a marked rhythm, a suspense constantly suggesting the advance toward death, announced from the very first scene. Hence, the emphasis I wanted to place on silence through the music, even within individual tracks. Long, granular tails, like the (few) lights on stage."
Oliver Coates' Throb, shiver, arrow of time is a portal into somatic chiaroscuro, aglow with the embers of imperfect memories and smudged with the plumes of internal echoes, which augment in vast, mercurial dimensions. For his third album on RVNG Intl., the British cellist, composer and producer offers a capsule of personal resonance and remembrance, assembled over the past six years. Throb, shiver, arrow of time traces the familiar metallic anatomy and viscous string modulations of his 2020 release skins n slime, while recentering his inner compulsions following a procession of lauded score writing projects, including the films Aftersun (Charlotte Wells, 2022), The Stranger (Thomas M Wright, 2022) and Occupied City (Steve McQueen, 2023). While working on Aftersun, Wells asked Coates how music could signal that someone is going on a trawl through their memory_a question that has stayed with him ever since and fosters a heartbeat running through the record. Throb, shiver, arrow of time is "all about inaccurate transmissions from our memories, overlaid with emotions from other sources," says Coates. The release is imbued with the ache and glow of recollections mulched together, where the guttural dissonance of misremembering is shrouded by strange orbs of sentiment. At the record's inner core is "Shopping centre curfew," a swift yet cavernous track that emerged five years ago when two real world events, both occurring in South London during the pandemic lockdowns, became fused in a dream: the demolition of Elephant and Castle shopping center, and the discussion of a curfew as a real possibility for all men following a violent crime. A strange simultaneity occurred with this piece of music and Coates built the album out from there, a sense of temporal entropy refracting shimmers of lurking convulsions into lucid sonic topologies. The ten compositions of Throb, shiver, arrow of time find weightless melodies soaring across after-image gradients, magnified and compressed. Misted tones within "Please be normal" and "90" soften drone-soaked shudders of inner acoustics messing up. Vocal invocations appear from long-term collaborators Malibu and chrysanthemum bear, as well as drifting synth radiance from Faten Kanaan. Throb, shiver, arrow of time furthers Coates' reach in collapsing the digital into the analogue and vice versa, allowing serendipity to reorganize the material and push out against the confines of flatness. This sculptural approach to sound is deeply influenced by the intricate installations of artist Sarah Sze, whose permutations of visual matter with its own after-image form kaleidoscopic epitaphs for ephemera and emotion. Coates' thinking about Sze's work and processes flowed together with his own playing and editing techniques, superimposing the textural relief of a live take back into a composition, and allowing the sound to succumb to a dream of itself. As Coates expands, "The cello is a kind of melancholic instrument with a light ethereal spirit. When the sound is flattened into digital processes, with shifted frequencies and time stretching I'm trying to give it even more of those qualities. Sometimes I'm distancing myself from it, so it becomes a piece of discarded debris that has soul in it, a down-sampling. Or other times, it's trying to maximize the present tense in the act of playing, and collapse that vivid color into a burnished, photocopied kind of sound. So the music acts like weather, weathering the listener, or as flames licking at the sides of objects." As the record unfurls, the compositions swell in duration, until the granular glimmers of its finale "Make it happen" persist in almost violent delight. "There's a feeling of not wanting to let this album go, trying to defy the extinguishing sound at the end of the music, trying to push the colors beyond the confines of the structure, to defeat the silence." In the scramble to resist denouement, Coates suspends the arrow of time in its eternal flight, just for a moment, to reveal the solace of the dust settling in the afterglow. Oliver Coates' Throb, shiver, arrow of time will be released on vinyl, Japanese import CD, and digital editions on October 18, 2024. On behalf of Oliver and RVNG Intl., a portion of the proceeds from this release will benefit The Traditional Music and Song Association of Scotland, an organization fostering opportunities for people of all ages to participate in the traditional music and culture of Scotland.
Edgar Allan Poes zeitlose Poesie, gelesen von Künstlern, Schriftstellern, Dichtern, Musikern und Magiern, im Dienste des Werks und auch im Gedenken an einen großen Freund und Weggefährten auf den musikalischen Wegen, Hal Willner. Kramer hat eine eklektische Liste von Stimmen zusammengestellt, um den alten Worten eine neue Vision zu geben. Mit dabei Joan As Police Woman, Edgar Oliver, Thurston Moore, Britta Phillips, Lydia Lunch, Rick Moody, und andere. Die von Kramer geschaffene Musik, die jede Lesung begleitet, lässt das Licht auf den Interpreten scheinen und poliert den Raum zwischen der Poesie und der Aufführung. Den Abschluss des Albums bildet eine Archivaufnahme von Allen Ginsberg, der ,The Bells" lebendig vorträgt. Die unbegleitete Lesung vom Juni 1981 ist ein Auszug aus seinem Studienkurs ,Expansive Poetics" an der Naropa School of Disembodied Poets in Boulder, Colorado.
The 2019 released "Caligula" took the vision of Kristin Hayter's vessel to the next level of grandeur, her purging and vengeful audial vision went beyond anything preceding it and reached an unparalleled sonic plane within her oeuvre. Succeeding her self-released 2017 "All Bitches Die" opus, "CALIGULA" saw Hayter design an ambitious work, displaying the full force of her talent as a vocalist, composer, and storyteller. Vast in scope and multivalent in its influences, with delivery nothing short of demonic, "CALIGULA" is an outsider's opera; magnificent, hideous, and raw. Eschewing and disavowing genre altogether, Hayter built her own world. Here she fully embodied the moniker Lingua Ignota, from the German mystic Hildegard of Bingen, meaning "unknown language" _ this music has no home, any precedent or comparison could only be uneasily given, and there is nothing else like it in our contemporary realm. Whilst "CALIGULA" is unapologetically personal and critically self-aware, there are broader themes explored; the decadence, corruption, depravity and senseless violence of emperor Caligula is well documented and yet still permeates today. Brimming with references and sly jabs, Hayter's sardonic commentary on abuse of power and invalidation is deftly woven. Working closely with Seth Manchester at Machines With Magnets studio in Pawtucket, Rhode Island, Hayter stripped away much of the industrial and electronic elements of her previous work, approaching instead the corporeal intensity and intimate menace of her notorious live performances, achieved with unconventional recording techniques and sound sources, as well as a full arsenal of live instrumentation and collaborators including harsh noise master Sam McKinlay (THE RITA), visceral drummer Lee Buford (The Body) and frenetic percussionist Ted Byrnes (Cackle Car, Wood & Metal), with guest vocals from Dylan Walker (Full of Hell), Mike Berdan (Uniform), and Noraa Kaplan (Visibilities). "CALIGULA" is a massive work, a multi-layered epic that gives voice and space to that which has been silenced and cut out.
Vol 1[14,24 €]
Come Play With Me and Breed Media are excited to present Come Play With Breed, Vol. 2. Featuring D5, Graft, Hannah Rowe and Mica Sefia, the 10” compilation spotlights the Northern Hip Hop and Soul scenes respectively. On the A-side, D5’s upbeat UK Rap opener, “What’s That”, is followed by Graft’s reflective Jazz-influenced Hip Hop track “Vows To The Art.” Hannah Rowe opens the B-side with an addictive fusion ballad for old souls. Finally, Mica Sefia closes the release with a powerful narration on her experiences as a black woman.
Artist Bios:
D5
Hailing from Leeds, West Yorkshire, D5 draws influence from the likes of Drake, Skepta and Brent Faiyaz and his sound flits between moody R&B and upbeat Rap that oozes a calm confidence. Elements of genres such as Garage, UK Rap and US Hip-Hop intertwine neatly to create his signature style. A style that crystalised on his 2020 EP Channel 5. Consisting of 8 songs, all helmed by producer and close friend CSHARP, the project is D5 at his most personal and led to the video for lead single ‘Silence’ premiering on Link Up TV and garnering him his highest streams to date. However, before ‘Channel 5’ D5 had created the EP If Only We Could Go Outside during the height of the pandemic. The track ‘Movies’ received airplay from the esteemed BBC Radio 1 Presenter Melvoin Odoom. With backing from the likes of GRM Daily and DJ Target spinning 2022 single ‘What’s Up’ on BBC Introducing, D5’s star is surely set to rise as he continues to develop his artistry. In addition to this, he has opened up for the likes of Novelist and fellow hometown hero Graft, proving with every successive performance and release that he is worthy of being a headline act.
Graft
Graft, winner of MOBO Unsung and BBC Three's The Rap Game UK, has propelled himself to national recognition for his unwavering sense of self and musical talent. Hailing from the vibrant city of Leeds, Graft’s topical and poetic approach to songwriting takes inspiration from genres such as Hip Hop, Neo-Soul, Jazz and Alternative Rap. This fusion of inspiration has seen him grace the stage at the acclaimed Reading and Leeds Festival, and has collaborated with esteemed brands such as Adidas, Virgin Media, Boohoo and Leeds United. Now with this national acclaim, Graft prepares for the release of his highly anticipated EP, Golden Child.
Hannah Rowe
Hannah Rowe’s emotional range transcends generations; the young singer writes about experiences and shifts in life, offering all listeners a sense of reflection within her rich, authentic, jazz-infused sound. Hannah is backed by a group of highly accomplished musicians who happen to be her adored closest friends. After finding one another at university, Sam Hughes on guitar, Luke Harrison on bass, Owen Moriarty on keys and Charlie Tanner on drums intertwined their varied influences to paint their own alluring and soulful sound - one difficult to define, but has been said to resemble the likes of Raye, Lianne La Havas, Moonchild and Yebba.
Mica Sefia
Liverpool born, Leeds-based future-soul Queen Mica Sefia endorses the interpretive nature of music as an art to be studied and related to by the public. Mica’s own exploration of self-expression solidified her passion in the production of a timeless and authentic style of music. Preferring to keep her lyricisms and narrative open to interpretation, Mica relates to a balanced approach to songwriting, in which her music remains subjective, but retains its emotive sensitivity. Mica’s music leans into the genres of Alt Soul, Rock and Jazz intertwining them to create atmospheric sounds and textured layers.
Claire Dickson (she/her), the Brooklyn-based vocalist, composer, and producer lauded for her "striking-at times, wordless-lyricism and melody-driven sound chamber within shapeshifting ambiance" (Downbeat) and whose voice "draws the listener into a world complex and jostled, where everything seems possible, loaded with...fascination and mystery" (Silence and Sound), releases her highly anticipated sophomore album, The Beholder, via New Amsterdam Records.
Since its foundation in 2010, the newcomer quintet has brought a breath of fresh air to the scene and fans as well as the specialized press with their melange of crunchy guitars, driving drums and orchestral bombast. and orchestral bombast: the very young five-piece was was already highly praised by renowned magazines such as magazines such as Orkus and Sonic Seducer and even dubbed "heroes of tomorrow" by Metal Hammer. of tomorrow".
The debut album "Until Dawn", which was released in 2018, impressively underlined the potential that lies within the band. The official music video for the track "Born From Hope" has over over 1.3 million views to date, and the song has been streamed well over 2.5 million streams on Spotify.
Now the song, as well as all the others of the album, will be released on vinyl for the first time. REAPER ENTERTAINMENT presents the multicolored vinyl in a gatefold, strictly limited to 300 copies worldwide.
High Roller Records, picture disc, ltd 500, handnumbered, lyric sheet, deluxe plastic bag, mastered for vinyl by Patrick W. Engel at Temple of Disharmony in March 2021.
Seit mehr als drei Jahrzehnten kreieren EVERGREY Songs, die mit einer Symbiose aus Härte und Melancholie direkt ins Herz gehen und ziehen damit Fans weltweit in ihren Bann. Mit ihrem 14. Album Theories Of Emptiness schreiben die Poeten aus Schweden um Bandgründer, Sänger und Gitarrist Tom S. Englund ihre Erfolgsgeschichte weiter und beweisen, warum sie zu Recht unangefochten an der Spitze des Genres stehen.
Das Album Theories Of Emptiness wurde von Tom S. Englund und Jonas Ekdahl produziert und von Adam „Nolly“ Getgood (Ex-Periphery) gemischt, mit dem EVERGREY während des gesamten Entstehungsprozesses eng zusammengearbeitet haben, um das klangliche Profil bestmöglich zu entfalten.
Gemastert wurde Theories Of Emptiness von Thomas „Plec” Johansson, der durch seine Arbeit mit Soilwork, The Night Flight Orchestra, Onslaught, The Gems, Eleine und vielen weiteren Bands bekannt ist.
Seit ihrem Debüt The Dark Discover (1998) haben EVERGREY 13 Alben veröffentlicht und bewegen sich in einem Spektrum zwischen hartem Progressive und düsterem Melodic Metal. Theories Of Emptiness ist der Nachfolger des 2022 erschienenen A Heartless Portrait (The Orphean Testament), mit dem EVERGREY weltweit Charterfolge verbuchen konnten (#3 in Schweden Metal, #5 der Top New Artist Albums USA, #7 in Finnland und #12 in Deutschland).
Nia Archives is the star at the forefront of the latest era of jungle. Since her emergence in 2020, her collagist soundscapes have helped bring the sound to a new generation of clubgoers (though fair warning: don’t call her a “revivalist” – she’s the first to point out that the scene never went away). So when it comes to talk of the 24-year-old producer, DJ, singer and songwriter’s much-anticipated debut album, the odds are you’re thinking of a full-length record of weightless jungle tracks with basslines so intense they’ll leave your ears ringing.
But the reality of the Bradford-born, Leeds-raised artist’s first ever album – while very much replete with that exquisite jungle sound she does so well – is also doing something a little different. On the thrilling and freeing Silence Is Loud, Nia Archives is looking to make music for beyond the rave. As she explains: “I think music can be experienced in different ways, and there’s different kinds of music for different scenarios. Say you’re at a festival listening to music with thousands of other people, that can feel really uniting. But then you might listen to an album on your own in the bus, or in a taxi; and this project is definitely more a record to sit and listen to than a collection of club tracks.” Nia is intent that Silence Is Loud is taken in as a full body of work of something “more song-focussed, putting interesting sounds on jungle.” It means that this is a record which finds gloomy Britpop, warm Motown, soaring indie, a love for Kings of Leon’s Aha Shake Heartbreak, skittering IDM, Madchester, classic rock, old skool hardcore and more, woven and fused into her ragga and junglist tapestry, all layered with feeling, imbued with her songwriterly lyricism about loneliness, relationships, family, navigating her 20s, and the intense potential power of silence.
The vast sonic palette on Silence Is Loud comes down to Nia’s broad array of influences through her life. With her Jamaican heritage, Nia remembers hearing jungle as a child via her nana, as well as at Bradford Carnival, where she was drawn to the soundsystem culture, dancing carefree on the floats in the parade. The first album she ever bought was Rihanna’s debut, Music of the Sun, and she also went to Pentecostal church back then, and was obsessed with gospel. Aged 16, she moved to Manchester, where she didn’t really know anybody: and so, her solution to meeting people was going out. “Partying was a huge part of my life,” she says, “They used to do little freestyle cyphers at the house parties and I would join in – that’s kind of how I got into singing.” She had found music boring at school, but in meeting all these new people she became interested in making her own music as a hobby. “I was making boom-bap kind of stuff which I didn’t really like in the end,” she laughs, “My lyrics are quite deep, so on a hip-hop beat it all sounds really depressing. I wanted people to dance to my music.” And so she began experimenting with faster tempos alongside that melancholy songwriting, teaching herself how to make beats on Logic: “It’s all been a lot of trial and error, really.”
Nia went to study music in London, and was also interested in visual art, making collages and VHS: “Before the music, I was trying to make a visual archive of my life and the people around me,” she explains, “And then my music was like my diary, and a sonic archive, as well.” Hence, she paired the word “archives” with her middle name, Nia. To this day, in her spare time she’s working on pulling together a documentary on the global nature of the jungle scene.
Back on those first two EPs, Headz Gone West (2021) and Forbidden Feelingz (2022), she honed that junglist sound, painting it with new flecks of colour and vibrance. It was only after she started releasing work that she realised pursuing music could be a viable life path for her. The decision has been paying off ever since. Nia Archives placed third in the prestigious BBC Sound Poll for 2023, alongside garnering a nomination for the Brit Awards’ Rising Star prize, plus wins at the DJ Mag, NME, the MOBOs and Artist and Manager Awards. She has also toured the world – be it North America, Europe or Asia – and even opened a show in London as part of a little something called Beyoncé’s Renaissance World Tour. She’s renowned as a party-starter in her own right, too, with takeovers at Glastonbury, Warehouse Project and her own Bad Gyalz day event. She’s done official remixes for the likes of Jorja Smith, had a huge summer hit with her Yeah Yeah Yeahs rework ‘Off Wiv Ya Headz’, and worked with brands like Corteiz, Nike, Flannels, Burberry, FIFA and Apple. In just three years, it’s fair to say that Nia Archives has become a need-to-know name in dance music.
But Nia is not interested in being one fixed thing. Building on the terrain from her third EP, Sunrise Bang Ur Head Against Tha Wall, the universe of Silence Is Loud is not totally unfamiliar territory; but it’s still emblematic of a bolder scope than we’ve heard from the artist before. Working with Ethan P. Flynn (the songwriter and producer known for his work with FKA twigs and David Byrne), the resulting record is an impressive feat of deftly-sculpted textures; sometimes big and euphoric, like the wobbly, lusty bass of ‘Forbidden Feelingz’, or elsewhere notably gentle and quiet – see: the gorgeous, surprisingly drumless ‘Silence Is Loud (Reprise)’, a heartfelt number that sits somewhere in the school of Adele. “I really sharpened my songwriting skill on this project,” Nia says, “I was really intentional about what I was writing about, and I really loved co-producing with Ethan. His process is so different to anyone I’ve worked with before, and he’s got a kind of DIY set-up like me.” Flynn’s flat overlooks the Barbican, adding that unquantifiable futurist urban quality that the area holds to the music. The pair enjoyed the collaborative process so much that the album was done within three and a half months.
Perhaps this is why Silence Is Loud maintains an exuberant immediacy while still being sleek and spacious, interspersed with flourishes of metallic beats, lush melody and topped with her sugary but powerful vocal, floating over it all. There is an intimacy to the record, perhaps in part due to Nia writing most of her lyrics while sitting in bed in her flat in Bow (once a bedroom producer, always a bedroom producer). You can hear it on the refrain for lead single ‘Crowded Roomz’, which finds rippling guitar lines cutting taut through the beats as Nia refrains: “I feel so lonely crowded rooms.” The song is an examination of life on tour, constantly surrounded by people, but not necessarily those she can be herself around; more than that, the track is exemplary in the category of sad bangers.
Silence Is Loud often finds itself in that push and pull between melancholy and euphoria. There’s a celebration of her unconditional love for her younger brother (the title track), a rumination of an evening with an Irish boy she met by Temple Bar (‘Cards On The Table), or a letter to herself on the light and airy ‘Unfinished Business’, even coming to terms with a lover having a past they haven’t quite processed yet (“nobody comes with a clean slate”). The latter was recorded the week after a music festival, and accordingly captures Nia’s vocal in its not quite healed, husky state.
Nia’s work is always a snapshot of where she’s at when she’s making it. This might not be the debut album you were expecting, but that’s what makes Silence Is Loud so special. Nia Archives has learned the rules of her sound, and is unafraid to break them, pushing jungle and herself into new, unchartered territories that, in turn, go some way to map the history of the greats of British dance music. More than that, it plants her firmly in that lineage.
Coke bottle green[28,95 €]
Pissed Jeans has never been a band that goes halfway-they're known for their feral vocals, biting lyrics, buzzsaw guitars, and unhinged live shows, and their sixth album, Half-Divorced is no exception. These songs skewer the tension between youthful optimism and the sobering realities of adulthood, and when viewed through frontman Matt Korvette's scowl, everything takes on a level of violent absurdity. Pissed Jeans' notorious acerbic sense of humor remains sharper than ever as they dismember some of the joys that contemporary adult life has to offer, from helicopter parents to stolen catalytic converters to being $62,000 in debt. On "Seatbelt Alarm Silencer," Korvette growls, "Call it a death drive but that ain't fair / Drive implies I'm headed somewhere." Korvette, Brad Fry (guitar), Randy Huth (bass), and Sean McGuinness (drums) weren't in any rush to finish Half-Divorced, which was recorded by Don Godwin at Tonal Park in Takoma Park, Maryland. "We're not the kind of band that bangs out a new record every two years," Korvette said. "Pissed Jeans is truly like an art project for us, which is what makes it so fun." This lack of restraint rages within the songs that unexpectedly veer into classic hardcore punk territory-often coming in at under two minutes long and erupting like the "butane tank explosion" Korvette sings about in "Junktime." In the last song, "Moving On," Korvette sneers, "Cheesing into my camera phone / Pretending that I'm not alone / Life's the first thing that we all postpone." One gets the sense that Pissed Jeans refuses to "postpone" life in quite the same way-life, like art, is something that happens now, not later. - Chelsea Hodson
Black Vinyl[27,52 €]
Pissed Jeans has never been a band that goes halfway-they're known for their feral vocals, biting lyrics, buzzsaw guitars, and unhinged live shows, and their sixth album, Half-Divorced is no exception. These songs skewer the tension between youthful optimism and the sobering realities of adulthood, and when viewed through frontman Matt Korvette's scowl, everything takes on a level of violent absurdity. Pissed Jeans' notorious acerbic sense of humor remains sharper than ever as they dismember some of the joys that contemporary adult life has to offer, from helicopter parents to stolen catalytic converters to being $62,000 in debt. On "Seatbelt Alarm Silencer," Korvette growls, "Call it a death drive but that ain't fair / Drive implies I'm headed somewhere." Korvette, Brad Fry (guitar), Randy Huth (bass), and Sean McGuinness (drums) weren't in any rush to finish Half-Divorced, which was recorded by Don Godwin at Tonal Park in Takoma Park, Maryland. "We're not the kind of band that bangs out a new record every two years," Korvette said. "Pissed Jeans is truly like an art project for us, which is what makes it so fun." This lack of restraint rages within the songs that unexpectedly veer into classic hardcore punk territory-often coming in at under two minutes long and erupting like the "butane tank explosion" Korvette sings about in "Junktime." In the last song, "Moving On," Korvette sneers, "Cheesing into my camera phone / Pretending that I'm not alone / Life's the first thing that we all postpone." One gets the sense that Pissed Jeans refuses to "postpone" life in quite the same way-life, like art, is something that happens now, not later. - Chelsea Hodson
In the beginning was a half-truth, the truth was of war and the half-truth was post-war. Fancying the pretensions of its cultural superiority, a continent chose to hide the truth behind ridiculous jargon and the soothing distance of offshored ?????????. Europe wished itself beyond war because it thought the privilege of peace a birthright, just as it refused to understand that post-war was a euphemism for interbellum. Then the truth has set us free.
The delusion was discarded and war was revealed as an inconceivable horror. Almost immediately it turned familiar and virtually comfortable. Novelty songs of drones gutting tanks became a laughing matter and the burning tanks, their crew inside, entertainment. Consequently, a plurality of people started to collectively dream of new stages of the righteous kind of carnage. This happened within weeks.
Our imagination has swollen to the point of loss of consciousness, compounded by the narrative form long in the sways of atrophy. All of this raises the question of to what degree were the years of peace culturally squandered. The art of the previous age prided itself on self-awareness, today we fail to even notice that we no longer recognize ourselves. But we have arrived where we started and our issues were not too complex for expression.
Since no art form generates action, the most appropriate art for a culture on the edge of extinction is one that simulates pain. In these times we shouldn't produce any other music, none but this, intended to prevent our silence from being misinterpreted.
Seven suites of deep and sprawling sonic meditations built around ‘call and response’ improv sessions between Randy Raine-Reusch and Michael Red.
Slow and tempered recordings of Asian flutes, African harps, temple gongs and a myriad of obscure instruments from Randy Raine-Reusch's deep collection mutate and ebb into swirling gossamers of tone. Sonic incantations stretched and magnified further by Red's Sends. An otherworldly play between light and shadow worlds; at times idyllic and light-filled, at times dark and eerie– all engrossing. Dream-reality reconciliations weave between the spectral world of Michael Red's sound processes and the direct physicality of Raine-Reusch's playing. The tension across the pieces builds between the live playing and processing techniques, dutifully revealing a growing familiarity with collective transcendence through sound (bigger than the sum of its parts). Real-time interactive dream music.
Initially realized over the course of a few days in Randy’s instrument museum in Vancouver BC December, 2014 'ERAS' is made up of processed, and sometimes multi tracked, improvisations between Randy and Michael. Through these sessions Randy would choose instruments he sensed possibilities within, and Michael then revealed and sculpted these possibilities. Both resonating, sensing sonic structures, environmental nuances, and further worlds in each other’s art, all within the moment. Being present for each other, they acted on instinct, trusting a first thought, trusting each other; committing, responding to that commitment, then mutating and letting go. Always moving forward, synthesizing and letting the living moment lead the way.
The recordings were left to distill and mature for many years before the composers felt it was ready. With minimal judicious edits and a very light dusting of FXs, both careful to preserve the direct and intuitive process that permeates the recording, ERAS now emerges.
Giovanni Di Domenico has now achieved a personal and unmistakable style within contemporary minimalism. His music always expresses a state of concentration, of recollection and contemplation toward a focal node. Repetition is experienced as alchemical state, as truth contained in the small nuances of change, in a crescendo that never reaches a climax. The atmosphere is intuition and is made up of a few compositional touches. To compose is to make synthesis, to unearth purity, simplicity and exactness. This new work for solo piano is almost an imaginary novel…the notes seem to tell of deserted streets, lonely walks in the night or runs down stairs. In this sense the musician is the writer of silence and the fleeting moment. And so, amid slow chords like Chopin or Satie, moods oscillate between brio and allegro, evoking the lightness of love, greater sadness and melancholy, as well as more restless and agitated ostinatos, the product of a more cathartic worldview.
On For Annette, singer-songwriter ronja summons forth a certain unbridgeable void within our existence and the acceptance of the deafening silence that comes with it. Weaving the strands of her previous release something about us with multiple openings towards more abstract territory, this 5-track EP marks her debut under the forward-thinking Unguarded label, astutely situating her music well beyond the confines of the genre.
The opening track “Nothing Makes Me Feel” beckons the listener into a discreet moment amid the early light of dawn, commencing with an up-close acoustic guitar, soon to be graced by ronja’s hushed voice, softly whispering, as if to avoid waking someone near. “Just Once”, with its weeping waltz, is about losing one’s place in the world, about choosing the imaginary over the real. Behind the strummed chords hides a soft dither of sine tones that attempts to fill the gap that cannot be filled, only to transform into quavering distortion ever after. Where language may falter, ronja turns to choral-like instrumental pieces (“Light” & “Grass from Below”), characterized by her distinctive and multi-layered flute arrangements. The absence of words here allows for a sensible stage of introspection, a fleeting and diaphanous pause, forging a passage to a more hopeful outlook. Yet, these pieces are not isolated; hints of fluttering air and cavernous depths are subtly alluded to in the earlier, more song-based tracks. In just under 18 minutes running time, the theme of loss, or the anticipation of its arrival, lingers solemnly before transcending intermediate states in “Almost There”.
Admirers of the dreamgaze band Roomer, which made waves in and around the Berlin music scene this past year, might detect faint resemblances. Nonetheless, ronja—a pivotal presence in said band—unveils a distinct effort here, striking subdued but enticing tones, a foreshadowing of what is yet to come from this luminary artist. – Luka Aron
Forging acclaim for their fiercely unrelenting sound production, New Frames are no stranger to shattering the parameters and caveats within electronic music with their masterfully curated approach to chaos. The collaborative project of Berlin-based David Frisch and Mathis Mootz (aka The Panacea) sees the duo engineer their hybridised palette of maximalist yet modular techno music in both their DJ and live sets. Pulling influence directly from dance floors both contemporary and from raving's genesis, New Frames' all encompassing signature of ferociously layered sonic weaponry promises to leave no stragglers in their wake. Presenting their debut double long player 'Scherben' - the body of work demonstrates the pair's eclectic merging of cataclysmic pure and raw techno, ominous vocals and distorted sound design across the eight track LP. Nimble mixing interbreeds New Frames' quintessential cacophony of instrumentation, laminated with bombastic drum-beats and carnal vigour. Additionally with appearances from Eva Vuillemin, fellow BITE Records protagonist Omon Breaker as well as label co-founder Phase Fatale, the album comes as a natural progression following two previous EP releases on BITE as well as featuring on the labels fifth anniversary compilation record 'Shedding Skin' .
His much-anticipated second album, Steady Away, moves inward and takes on a more self- reflective quality, whilst retaining glimmers of soaring figures and pastoral imagery.
Brain's distinctive warm vocal and finger- picked guitar style are sustained alongside expansive strings and delicate piano arrangements, taking shape through evolving and introspective impressions on tenderness, loss, pain and awe in nature.
The album was recorded at The Nave, an old refurbished church which is now a studio. Glancing off The Nave's eaved ceilings with natural reverb, Steady Away's 11 tracks, recorded by Tom Orrell, capture the intimacy of Chris' songwriting.
Musicians appearing with Chris on the album are, on piano - Simeon Walker, violin - Mary-Jane Walker and on double bass - Alice Phelps.
Steady Away further embeds Chris Brain within the contemporary folk scene, whilst gesturing towards the folk tradition. His commitment to folk is only deepened by the two folk clubs and folk festival in Leeds that Chris founded and runs, attracting a wide range of audiences and musicians alike.
OVERVIEW: This is essential. We don't just refer to the album title: this new record by multi-instrumentalist and producer Thysenterprise is essential material for lovers of spiritual jazz with a hip-hop edge. As described in the liner notes: "The spirit of Pharoah Sanders, Archie Shepp, and Coltrane permeate the music here. At times, Thysenterprise and his guests meld the influence of the great jazz cannon with the rhythms of hip-hop."
'ESSENTIAL' moves with ease from spiritual sounds to hip-hop-infused head nods. The liner notes by writer John Morrison perfectly encapsulate the type of sonic trip you're in for: "While the improvisational heights that Thysenterprise and crew reach throughout the album owe a debt to hardbop and the avant-garde, there are beats and textures here akin to the work of Karriem Riggins or A Tribe Called Quest. The result is a truly contemporary sound that plays freely within the depths of human feeling."
'ESSENTIAL' is by far Thysenterprise's most personal album to date. From beginning to end, he pays a heartfelt tribute to his late father. The artist revisits and rearranges melodies from iconic jazz records that formed a profound connection between the two of them. Throughout the album, there are nods to songs that were essential for Reinier's musical upbringing. It shows that the saxophonist plays with heart and doesn't shy away from expressing grief and loss. Or as stated in the liner notes: "We play for pleasure, we play to understand ourselves and the world around us, we play to celebrate and remember our loved ones."
Renowned Dutch alto saxophonist Benjamin Herman joins Thysenterprise for intimate call-and-response on "Feedback of Silence." Next to that, Michael Moore graces "Happiness Is a Memory" with a heartfelt bass clarinet solo. Moore is part of the Han Bennink-founded ICP Orchestra. It's safe to say that Thysenterprise builds on that rich lineage of improvisation, playfulness, and distinct originality. On 'ESSENTIAL,' he takes that to new heights. The album comes beautifully packaged as a gatefold 2LP with vinyl-exclusive alternate takes on the D-side.
The eponymous debut disc from German-Swedish supergroup 4
Wheel Drive went straight to the top spot as Best-Selling Jazz Album
In Germany For 2019. And the media didn’t hold back with their
praise either: “Four first-league jazz musicians with pure joy of playing
and a love of good pop music,” said ZDF’s ‘heute-journal’ about this
spirited and enjoyable group that combines trombonist / singer Nils
Landgren, pianist Michael Wollny, bassist / cellist Lars Danielsson
and drummer Wolfgang Haffner.
For ‘4 Wheel Drive II’, it is evident that things have shifted up a gear
right from the start, with the rocky, pulsating opening track, ‘Chapter
II’, straight from Wollny’s compositional workbench. Landgren likes to
let his trombone roar like a sports car engine. In similarly dynamic
vein are pieces like Danielsson’s final track of the album, ‘The
Wheelers’, which, thanks to Haffner’s nimble brushwork, makes you
think you’re on a high speed train.
Compared to the first album, there has been another change, an
increase in the proportion of original compositions written by all of the
participants, as Lars Danielsson, who has contributed a sensitive,
poppy ballad to the new album, ‘Just Another Hour’, remarks.
“Interpretations of worldwide hit songs were a factor behind the huge
success of the debut album, but the ratio to original compositions
here is getting closer to 50:50. That said, the fuel powering 4 Wheel
Drive has remained the same: this band is all about creating music
from deep within, and with like-minded people whom you can
absolutely and implicitly trust to be in the driving seat.”
“It just flows,” enthuses drummer Haffner, “we’re a group of close
friends with nothing we need to prove, we can just go for it. I've had
so many magic moments with this band, it really is incredible!”
On the new album, listeners are treated to several new moments of
pure magic, continuing 4 Wheel drive’s illustrious story. For example,
their new instrumental version of the Simon & Garfunkel classic,
‘Sound of Silence’, has something mysteriously Nordic about it. Or
their newly-cast version of the surprisingly infrequently covered
Genesis ballad, ‘Hold On My Heart’, putting it into a jazz context. The
courage to approach pop tunes that have become so ingrained in
many people’s minds from a completely different perspective pays off
in full. Within 4 Wheel Drive are four originals at work, each of whom
can be recognised from the very first note they play or sing.
Black Vinyl[27,69 €]
There are only a few figures in music whose work influences and
shapes a genre as a whole. This is undoubtedly true of the Swede
Esbjörn Svensson. With his trio e.s.t., the pianist and composer
wowed audiences beyond age and genre affiliations. And his
influence on jazz as a whole reverberates to this day and already
within the second and third generation of musicians worldwide.
‘HOME.S.’ is Esbjörn Svensson’s only solo album and the sheer
existence of such a recording and its completely unexpected
discovery over a decade after its creation are nothing less than a
sensation: Since the early 1990s, Svensson focused almost his entire
creative energy and recording activities on his work with e.s.t.. Thus,
these new recordings are not only the first, but practically the only
ones that show Svensson in a setting other than that of the trio:
Intimate, concentrated and completely one with himself. The
recordings for ‘HOME.S.’ were made only a few weeks before
Esbjörn Svensson’s sudden death on June 14, 2008. Svensson
recorded the music in his Swedish home.
For almost ten years afterwards, the album rested untouched in his
wife Eva Svensson’s personal archive. Here, she tells the story
behind the discovery of the album and the music: “After Esbjörn’s
passing, I made sure all the contents of his computer were saved to
backup hard drives. And then I basically left them untouched for the
next ten years. At the point where I eventually felt ready to look into
the material, I soon realised that there was something I wanted to
look into.
“I took the hard drive and went to Gothenburg to meet with Åke
Linton, the sound engineer who had worked on all e.s.t. albums as
well as on their live shows. He was also the one who had helped me
to save the material from Esbjörn’s computer in the first place. So he
probably already knew that there was something hidden in there. But
nobody had listened to it.
“We went to his studio. And we pressed the start button. Then there
was a total silence and we couldn't speak for the entire time the music
was playing. After it finished, at first we were not able to say anything,
because we were both so touched and surprised that it was all there,
and that it was so beautiful. The tracks seemed to follow one another
like pearls on a string. After we just had sat there for a while we
agreed: This is really good. Musically, but also from a sound
perspective.”
Legendary 2010’s indie band Crocodiles’ guitarist Charles Rowell’s new synthpop-meets-gothic rock project. Think Nick Cave crooning over Martin Rev’s minimal electronics or The Lords of the New Church-era Stiv Bators jamming with Wayne Hussey and Douglas Pearce.
After relocating from New York to France, Charles Rowell began stuffing his suitcase with various synths and samplers while taking cheap bus rides to bordering countries.
While living out of a hotel in north east Paris, he played his demos for Third Coming Records who quickly released the Bad Trip EP in 2020. Concerts became more frequent after the pandemic, with the release of Spellwound and a few have become infamous with guitars smashed to pieces, broken glasses, unruly audience front flipping onto the stage.
With Paris providing the background and a scene of friends such as avant-garde drag artist Tuna Mess and industrial techno veteran Poison Point who pushed his creativity even further, Crush Of Souls constant spirit is that it remains unpredictable and thrives on collaboration.
This is even more true with his upcoming album (A)Void Love.
Written over a period of intense insomnia that coincided with a run of shows playing guitar for Australian legend Harry Howard, Crush Of Soul’s main man Charles Rowell finally found rest after writing and recording the last song entitled World of Fear. Six months prior he had quit his job as a chef, traveled east to Prague for inspiration and returned ragged and sleepless.
Rowell’s insistence on keeping the instrumentation simple and clean came from an arduous two years of literal blood, sweat and tears. Every bit of drama, eastern excursion and sleep psychosis can be found within the walls of (A)Void Love.
Acoustic guitars and dramatic synths provide a cold wilderness for the various rhythms to inhabit; touches of minimal electronics, cold wave and synth pop can be found while the song writing remains classic for lovers of Echo & the Bunnymen and Nick Cave & the Bad Seeds.
There’s always been a thread of synth-punk, death rock and DIY noise running through all of Charles’ projects (Crocodiles, ISSUE, Flowers of Evil), however Crush Of Souls pushes harder and further into the darkness with the new album ‘(A)Void Love’.
Lee Gamble’s UIQ label unveils a second album from Filipina-Australian artist Corin Ileto, deploying a brace of swarming alien chorales and rapturous digital rave noise to explore the idea of sound as a sentient being. Bold and operatic, cinematic and cybernetic.
Named after the iconic choral work by 20th Century avant-garde legend György Ligeti (as immortalised by Stanley Kubrick in 2001), ‘Lux Aeterna' explores the idea of micropolyphony, a term Ligeti described as a complex polyphony "in which harmonies do not change suddenly, but merge into one another." Like Ligeti, Corin isn't primarily concerned with melody or rhythm, but timbre: the colour and quality of sound itself.
Taking its time to unfurl, the album opens with ‘lumen naturae’, winding tonal clouds that eventually latch onto a misshapen hoover sound that curves into the abyss. Corin shows her hand more formally on 'sunta', balancing layered cybernetic drones against ratcheting metallic rhythms and unstable textures. When the track cuts to almost-silence, it reminds us of Akira Rabelais' ghosted 'Spellewauerynsherde' (itself an impressionistic granulation of vocal recordings), before being disrupted by a dynamic kick that shares DNA with club music.
But despite her occasional flirtations with the club, Ileto doesn't appear to have any interest in making functional dance music. Instead, she emphasises momentum and texture. Like a celestial opera, ecstatic trance is reimagined within the context of sacred liturgy – merging hyper-real soundscapes with Gregorian chant and medieval instrumentation. Chrome-plated clangs and growling subs highlight the album’s sci-fi leanings, tapping into a sort of retro-futurism that balances a hi-tech mindset with a feeling of deep vulnerability and alienation.
Borrowed Tongue is the debut solo album by Korean singer-songwriter Minhwi Lee. It’s a mysterious, strangely compelling thing, an album of rare poetry, and remarkably self-assured. Originally released in November 2016, the album made waves, winning best folk album of 2016 at the 14th Korean Music Awards. Its eight songs, written and predominantly arranged by Lee, don’t reveal their secrets easily, or at first blush; rather, they take their time slowly to unfurl in her listeners’ worlds. There are hints of other music here, from time to time: the intimacy of Stina Nordenstam, perhaps; the gauzy haze of Hope Sandoval, on the blissed-out pop of “Broken Mirror”; there are touches of acid-folk, and ECM jazz, and a slyly filmic approach to songwriting and arrangement that makes every song fit perfectly into the album’s arc.
Lee arrived at her solo music through a complex, circuitous route. After studying musicology in Seoul, she learned her trade, film scoring, in New York and Paris. She also studied classical music, blowing off steam in a wild punk duo, Mukimukimanmansu, who released one album, 2012, on Korean indie label Beatball. Subsequently, Lee has been refining her music, focusing both on her solo songs, and on writing for television series and films; she’s written scores for films by such directors as Sangmoon Lee, Jeongwon Kam, and Wanmin Lee. She also plays in the jazz outfit Cubed, and recently joined doom metal group Gawthrop on bass.
Since its release in 2016, Borrowed Tongue has slowly bewitched listeners with its idiosyncratic arrangements and evocative songwriting. It’s an album that hints at plenty, but refuses to make grand statements, something Lee seems intent to pursue: in correspondence, she’s very clear that she wants these songs to enact a kind of transmutation, to be adopted into the listeners’ lives and exist within their own imaginings. She does, however, offer a few hints to what propels these mercurial songs, explaining, “this album is about a person who again opens their mouth, which was once shut. The album deals with what it means to speak: things that are known but not said, things that should be said but are not, things that cannot be said but nonetheless are.”
This may well explain the curious mood of Borrowed Tongue, the multiple ‘voices’ that inhabit the album; Lee’s singing voice is pliable and mutable, approaching each song as its own diorama and ensuring the song is sung with just the right tone. The arrangements Lee conjures for her songs are all in service to narrative and melody; they appear to her alongside the composition, which is surely why everything here fits together so beautifully. From there, Lee approaches her songs carefully, in deference to their ‘need to be sung’ a certain way. There isn’t a moment wasted: everything on Borrowed Tongue is as it needs to be, whether a melancholy folk song taking to the air, or a psychedelic reverie dreamed into being. It’s a beautiful, poised and confident debut.
El Nido: a welcoming embrace in uncertain times. The world changed forever in the second quarter of 2020. The life we were used to ceased to be, as we were overcome by constant fear, distrust in all that surrounded us and a fatalist attitude towards the world we lived in. With the pandemic came lockdown, mandatory isolation for months, empty streets, face masks, hand sanitizer, the fear of going out, an absurd roll call of Covid fatalities, the daily tension of not knowing when it would all end and the urge to "get back to normal," something that certainly never happened. Out of that pandemic saturation and that urge for "normality" came El Nido ("The Nest"), the third album by Italy-based Colombian producer Montoya, who describes this record as "becoming virgins of destiny again, facing up to that fatalist world and creating that longing for tranquility. Savoring that moment prior to the pandemic, that instant when the most important thing wasn't the immediate reality or the global situation." Montoya sees El Nido as that quiet place that you think of when you close your eyes; it is a beach or a mountain, a sunrise or a sunset, a wave in the sea refreshing your body, or an almost-whispering wind that immediately silences everything around you. On his previous records, Iwa in 2015 and Otún in 2019, his work as a producer prevailed, feeding the growing wave of Latin American electronica, fusing IDM and techno with indigenous root music, Andean folklore and rhythms from the tropical Caribbean coast and ancestral Pacific in terms of instrumentation. But on El Nido Montoya splits the balance, offering us five merely instrumental tracks and six collaborations with Latin American artists, including Colombians Nidia Góngora on "Soñé," Montañera on "Sierra" and Pedrina on "Nubecita." It also features Mexican artist Pahua on "Flor del Mar," the Peruvian Lara Nuh on "El Faro" and the Franco-Venezuelan La Chica on "Palosanto." Starting from the name itself ("The Nest"), an evocation of home, El Nido is also a Filipino municipality on the island of Palawan, a place that turned out to be Montoya's last live experience before the pandemic. That place with crystal clear seas and white sand became the scene and starting point for this work, reflecting on the abstraction of a chaotic world and proposing blurred destinations with each song, like places that exist within memories when we close our eyes, letting us inhabit them, for a couple of minutes at least. On the other hand, it's a record that approaches love; as a yearning and a refuge, as a guide and an anchor, but also as a rhetorical figure that makes us vibrate and elevates us, while at the same time keeping us grounded and letting us settle in the place that we can use as our shelter.
High Roller Records, black vinyl, ltd 500, 2 inserts, poster, Mastered for vinyl by Patrick W. Engel at TEMPLE OF DISHARMONY in February 2022.
