Cerca:work hard play hard

2022 limited edition of this Japanese no wave gem from 1982. With extended liner notes and interviews with band members about the recordings of the album, as well as unpublished photographs from 1981 by Jibiki Yuichi.

The Japanese punk rock movement known as Tokyo Rockers began in the summer of 1978. It incubated an independent music culture as well as a host of fascinating, individualistic musicians. One of the more striking units was the male-female duo Maria 023. NON played bass for them, and it was here that she first attracted attention. However, Maria 023 was short-lived, and NON would not reappear until the following year, August 1979, on stage at the legendary concert event "Drive to 80s". Her unbilled performance at the event consisted of several songs for solo bass and vocals, and her combination of intensity and a distinctly female emotionality made a striking impression. In the months that followed, NON continued to play solo and she became a pivotal presence among the female rockers on the scene at the time.

Finally she shifted from solo to group performance, and formed NON BAND. After several member changes, the line-up stabilized into a unique trio with Kinosuke Yamagishi on violin and clarinet, and Mitsuru Tamagaki on drums. It was with this line-up that the group reached a musical peak. At the same time, the Japanese punk and new wave rock scene was moving in a new direction, as a second generation of artists appeared and mushrooming independent labels began to play an increasingly important role. I myself started a label called Telegraph Records in 1981 and worked hard on record releases and building a distribution network.

Since starting the label, I had wanted to release a record by NON BAND. There were many vicissitudes before it could happen, but in February 1982 NON BAND's first album was released as a 10-inch LP on Telegraph Records, the label's fifth release. In the early Japanese indies scene, if a release sold 1000 copies it was counted as a significant success. The NON BAND album went through several repressing and sold 2000 copies. The album was a hit and the band's critical reception and popularity suddenly took off.

The shows that followed the release of the album were given a boost by the addition of two female rockers, the guitarist Kummy and keyboard player Mitsuwa. The group was reaching a real musical peak and everyone expected more great developments, but just six months after the release of the album the group would grind to a halt. Members quit the band one after another, and with no possible replacements to be found, NON herself faded away from the scene.

NON BAND's career in the early Japanese indies scene was thus short-lived. But their sole album was reissued twice on CD, and remained popular with listeners. However, the group's history was to have a second chapter.

NON ended up returning to her hometown, snowy Hirosaki in the far northern prefecture Aomori. There she raised two children and took over the running of the family business, an arts supplies store. Her thoughts turned once again towards music, and in 1999 she took up her bass again and began to sing. She invited two fabulous musicians, Keiji Haino and Tatsuya Yoshida, to Hirosaki, and performed together with them as well as solo. This marked the beginning of a new phase for her, and she played live in Tokyo and released a solo album, "ie". She got back in touch with Yamagishi and Tamagaki and reformed NON BAND. They added Emi Sasaki on accordion and began to play a handful of gigs each year, bringing a mature depth to their undiminished power and dazzling a new generation of fans. In 2012 the group released an album of recent live performances entitled " NON BAND Liven' 2009-2012". I released the album on the newly reanimated Telegraph Records.

NON still lives in the north, in Hirosaki. The city is famous for its summer Neputa festival. The first track on this album, "Duncan Dancin'" is almost a theme song for NON BAND, but its rhythm is taken from the ohayashi music that is performed in this festival, as large floats and troupes of dancers wind their way through the streets. The title refers to the legendary dancer, Isadora Duncan. The image perfectly represents NON herself: Isadora Duncan dancing to the earthy rhythms bubbling up out of the north land.

Nov 9, 2016 Jibiky Yuichi (Telegraph Factory)

In order to achieve a meticulous sound quality the reissue version is cut on 12" vinyl instead of the original 10" format. The original cover artwork has been reproduced and there are liner notes by Jibiky Yuichi with unpublished photos of NON BAND.

Repress expected. Date TBA

By 1980 when this was originally released Pharoah Sanders was solidly entrenched with his own voice on tenor. The passing of John Coltrane and Sanders's fruitful years of playing with the prolific saxophone genius resulted with an unmistakable influence on his sound and explorations of the instrument. Beginning with "Greetings to Idris" the structure of the music is one that follows tradition yet opens up for the musicians to improvise within the arrangements. "Greetings to Idris" is in reference to the featured drummer Idris Muhammad who also played with Coltrane during his late period. Naturally Sanders is featured as the main instrument and his horn can be bold and demanding of your full attention. Always interested in other instruments from other cultures, much like Trane, he incorporates the Japanese instrument the koto, a beautifully harmonic stringed instrument to counter his soft rich blowing on tenor with only wind chimes and a harmonium for a delicious peaceful bit of music on "Kazuko"(Peace Child) that has the qualities of a meditative offering. Most of the music, eight tracks, is composed and arranged by Sanders and demonstrates his leadership. There is one John Coltrane composition entitled "After The Rain" that gets the Tranesque treatment by Sanders that makes it hard for even the most discerning listener to distinguish between the original version and Sanders impression. It is a bluesy duet featuring only sax and piano and leaves you wanting to hear it over and over again because of it's simple and haunting melodies. Another song that Coltrane recorded entitled "Easy To Remember" has a gentle swing to it built around a classic quartet (drums, bass, piano, sax) like that employed by Coltrane that results in a superb standard. Sanders incorporates the use of another "foreign" instrument to jazz by working in a tabla and sitar on "Soledad " that takes center stage before Sanders joins in on the music. The result is a thing of genius as the East and West merge and interface for composition that is peaceful. Sanders music on this LP fluctuates between the tranquil sounds of his mellow horn to the outer limits where he left off with the explorations of Trane's late period. What separates this LP from others is that it is a group playing under his leadership where he gives all others close to equal billing. The uptempo, "You've Got To Have freedom" is one such song where Sanders gets out there on some of his solos but works within the group structure as the other musicians, most notably Eddie Henderson on flugelhorn, bring the music back home. There is a chorus sung much of the time throughout where the the proclamation "Ya gotta have peace and love, ya gotta have freedom" is presented in Manhattan Transfer style but with much more soul. The use of vocalists is done again on the track entitled "Think About The One." The chorus features vocalese specialist Bobby McFerrin. This LP shows the different sides of Pharoah Sanders, a man always willing to explore the music, explore his soul and share it with you. The closing track "Bedria" is a mellow exploration of the various ranges of the tenor. It is a ten minute song that displays all the grace of his being, a gentle giant who can manipulate the horn to do extraordinary things, reverberating out and back in undulating waves of harmonic bliss. Sanders on this LP is next to perfect. One of his best recording from his post Impulse career. It belongs in your jazz collection right next to John Coltrane.

repress

Levon Vincent returns with his fourth full-length studio album Silent Cities a striking departure from his previous records. This, his first release experimenting with the cassette format, Silent Cities is a kind of mixtape through more private moods and personal pitches (literally given Levon’s non-standard tunings).

While Levon has always pro
duced dance floor jams with the intention of raising people’s heart rates, Silent Cities began with 72 bpm: his average resting heart rate, and the concept of tuning the music he was making to his own body rather than increasing anything. This brought the tempos down to 72 bpm or even half of that, at 36bpm. Programming the record during the empty cityscape of Berlin lockdowns, this is the first time Levon’s created an album for the home stereo or for headphone listening whilst navigating through a city. A mixtape specialist in his youth; he was always wanted to play with the cassette format. The results are sure to delight any listener, with the ever-present ambient, krautrock, shoegaze, hip-hop and electro influences coming to the foreground on this work.

“I was expanding further along the lines of a surprise favourite from my previous LP, a song called She Likes To Wave To Passing Boats which was not a 4 on-the-floor piece to play in clubs but a more impressionistic piece of music that I wrote to expound some emotions one day” says Levon. “It was a song written using just intonation. I really love how warm the pure 4ths sound, so when working on the new LP Silent Cities I decided to use my own tunings”.

Historically, the use of just intonation has meant that such instruments could sound "in tune" in one key but at the expense of more dissonance in the other keys. None of the songs on Silent Cities use standard Western equal temperament, Levon created his own scale designs coupled with the ancient ratios found in just intonation.

Born in Houston in 1975, Levon’s life changed dramatically when his parents moved their family to New York in 1981, uprooted from what he knew, the shock, the change from Houston to New York at 6 years old, is referred to constantly in Levon’s Musical output over the years. Levon's family moved houses in and around NYC from 1981 -2010, never more than a mile or two from the WTC. He lived on the Lower East Side during his teenage years and early 20s. This time period and this locale are also a big theme recurrent in his music as he tries to convey how the "downtown" lifestyle and culture-melding affected him so much at a tender age. He cut his teeth working in record shops around lower Manhattan, and while working at the Halcyon Record shop in Brooklyn he (alongside DJ Jus-Ed) was instrumental in creating the wave that came to be known as the "NYC House Renaissance" circa 2010. During the Y2K years he studied 20th C post-minimalism at Purchase college of New York under James McElwaine (who tangentially produced Man Parrish’s Self-Titled proto-hip-hop debt LP). Levon was fortunate to study theory with avant-garde composer Dary John Mizelle and orchestration under conductor Joel Thome. He undertook masterclasses with Philip Glass and also served as intern for John Kilgore, engineer for Steve Reich, where he was present for notable mix sessions such as “Violin Phase.”

Post-minimalism clearly remains an influence not to mention the early sampler stars of 80s freestyle and synth pop. Mixing such far-reaching influences is something Levon executes tremendously well. The first track Everlasting Joy moves at a head nodding 96 BPM tempo, reflecting formative influences like Paul Hardcastle’s Rainforest or Art Of Noise’s Moments in Love. “Those types of songs were a big eye opener for me as a youth, because it was where I realised songs in popular culture didn’t have to be kept to just 3 minutes, and they didn’t require vocals either. So, Everlasting Joy is a song with that intention, one that might be radio-friendly, despite the long arrangement and without vocals. You could say it was inspired by 107.5 in NY because that was a station I listened to a lot in the 1980’s.”

The majority of demos on Silent Cities were recorded before Covid-19 hit the world - when Levon had found a studio space outside of home in his adopted city of Berlin. It was a career first - working on music outside the bedroom. This riding the train or bicycling ‘going to work’ in Berlin opened up a new mood in his music, using the time back and forth to be inspired - commuting as an NYC transplant who still feels as a tourist in Berlin, with a pair of headphones, looking out the window on the train, or stopping on bridges and parking his bike to enjoy Berlin's skyline and horizon. Then, the pandemic struck and “work” came to a halt. Levon had recorded so much material during that year in the studio out of house it seemed like an inflection point for him to lighten the burden of the possessions he was carrying.

“People close to me have watched me give away synths and hardware regularly and I have given away my record collection every few years for my whole life. As a struggling artist in my 20s who had worked in record stores that whole time, I learned that moving constantly with 12k records just wasn't the way to live. So, in light of the pandemic, I set up a shop online, and sold all my music equipment. I also created a separate shop for all my sneakers and clothes. Easy come, Easy go. This provided me with a slow drip type of income that carried me quite well through the pandemic and it allowed me to focus on my own art and music. Getting rid of all my possessions felt like a weight being lifted from my shoulders and I was able to stay the course and remain committed to the music. I needed a further 2 years to mix and arrange the LP. If it weren’t for the pandemic, I would not been able to make this type of LP, so in light of everything, I was able to turn a depressing time in to something lasting and musically very positive.”

You can hear how his approach to a cassette release retains the "Medium is the Message." ethos. Silent Cities is a spooling, warm piece about life memories and embodiment.

Some of the greatest jazz musicians of all time have passed through Art Blakey's Jazz Messengers: Horace Silver, Hank Mobley, Kenny Dorham, Wayne Shorter and Donald Byrd, among many others. However brief their stay, working with the demanding and full-throttle drummer not only increased their visibility, but also their chops and interpretive capacity. Blakey's ability to drum up the best players in the game may have even eclipsed his superhuman ability to play drums.

Altoist Jackie McLean, trumpeter Bill Hardman, bassist Spanky deBrest, and pianist Sam Dockery deliver whole-bop goodness on five propulsive, fiery tracks. True to its title, this LP bops hard, with a ferocious swing, boundless energy and telepathic communication between players - especially Blakey and Hardman. Considering the rhythmic demands of Blakey's locomotive playing style, this was an incredible achievement.

Impex Records has cut this gorgeous 180-gram LP with the original analogue mono master tapes and without computer processing of any kind. You hear all the vivacious interplay that occurred on that weekend in 1957 when Blakey and crew forged a bold new vision of muscular, funky jazz. This is music that still resonates over 50 years later. Not to be missed!

Melody Tomb is the first album in a new collaboration between Tokyo artist Teruyuki Kurihara and London drone pop band The Leaf Library. The nine tracks here have in common a metallic hum and a minimal, austere kind of beauty that recalls Teru's work on his 2020 Frozen Dust album (Mille Plateaux). Machine tones mix with static, noise and warm drones, whilst in other places the lineage of classic mangled Warp hardware is visible. In March 2020 The Leaf Library sent their friend Teru a batch of synth drones to play with in the hope a new collaboration would be born. "From the first time we heard Teru's music we knew we wanted to make something with him," say the band. "It has been such a pleasure seeing him take our minimal synth parts and turn them into something really strange and beautiful." The track Kite Beach was the first to arrive, featuring on The Leaf Library-curated Object Ten compilation on Objects Forever in 2021, with the rest of the album slowly appearing over the last year. The artists hope to continue the collaboration with another album in the near future.

For fans of: Autechre, Biosphere, Ben Frost

Opaque pink vinyl LP. For fans of: Tirzah, Caroline Polachek, Erika de Casier, Oklou, Smerz. Between the ages of 2 and 18, Cora Gilroy-Ware lived in a haunted place. On the outside, this small edge of Connecticut coastline was a quintessential New England town. Yet beneath its quaint surface was a netherworld that got steadily darker over the course of those sixteen years. From a serious drug problem to environmental pollution leading to deadly illnesses, frequent suicides and an above average number of fatal accidents, something about this place was cursed. Amid this world Cora was an outsider, someone who preferred pop and RnB to the music of her peers, who mostly subscribed to the dregs of a Deadhead culture that was more nihilistic than utopian. Still, she found herself on weekends drinking in the woods with the rest of them, playing along until it was time to leave. Christmas breaks and summer months were spent across the Atlantic in a completely antithetical environment. In London, the city of her birth, Cora spent her teen years taking the bus home at dawn after raves under the railroad arches, or riding the tube to her cousin’s house in Camden. For a long time, Cora’s life was composed of these two strands—ghostly East Coast suburbia and inner-city London—which she was forced to fold in and out of one another like a two-strand French braid. She quickly learned to adapt and be whoever the particular moment demanded. Her outsider status was intensified by the fact that, being of mixed Afro-Caribbean and European descent, her family didn’t look like the others in Connecticut. In the 2000s, this meant Cora had to contend with a deeply ingrained kind of folk-racism, both conscious and unconsciously expressed. Nobody talked about these things back then, and she internalized a lot of shame. The ability to shape-shift became integral to Cora’s artistic practice. Her survival mechanism at school was to carve out her own worlds through visual art and dance. Music was less of a creative outlet than a way of life, something like a form of religion for her family, who all played instruments and saw music as the form to which all art aspires. She studied violin and learned enough guitar chords to write her first songs. Cora always wanted to be a performer, but, having moved around constantly, craved stability and independence. Eager to make her own way in the world, she began to write about painting and sculpture, which eventually led to time spent working in Naples, Italy and a day job teaching the History of Art at university level. It wasn’t until 2018 that Cora first shared her first songs with the wider world. Having collaborated and played live with Jam City (Jack Latham, who has co-produced each of her releases), she finally embarked on a solo career, which for her felt inevitable, only a matter of time. Following four acclaimed EPs—Toxic Femininity (2018), Lashes in a Landfill (2019), Dreamcatcher (2020) and Maiden No More (2021), this year will see the release of her debut album The Golden Ass. For her artist name she chose, “Fauness”: a play on the Latin faunus, a woodland god with the body of a man and the horns, ears, and legs of a goat. The feminine equivalent—fauness—is a modern invention, made up by rococo sculptors in 18th century France. Cora was drawn to this pseudonym because of its temporal layers and amalgamation of beauty and beast, which, for her, captures something of her complex personal story. an utterly individual voice in underground pop music" - The FADER // "a sparkling sweet pop ride" – NYLON // “It is hard to write a perfect pop song. It’s even harder to make it look as easy as London artist Fauness” - GUARDIAN GUIDE // Tracks 01. Lonely 02. Mystery 03. Peaches 04. Hours 05. Siena 06. Grape & Grain 07. Laura 08. High 09. Cinnamon 10. Girl In The Moon

Combining elements of indie-pop, punk, emo and just a little bit of 2009 vintage math-rock for good measure, adults are four pals trying to find their way in a disintegrating world. for everything, always reflects on how we look after ourselves, one another and people in our community; it’s a riotous collision reminiscent of Johnny Foreigner, The Beths or Trust Fund, bursting with crunching guitars, speedy drums and yelping dual vocals. The first single all we’ve got // all we need is a song about individual torments: “having a breakdown on the Megabus to Bristol", and about collective support: “mutual aid, building strong networks of community resistance to the hostile environment, to food insecurity, to the homophobia and transphobia by the state and about trying to look after one another”. the secret song to end side one deals with loss, guilt, rejection and anxiety, exploring the travails of a messy breakup and the masculine urge to bury everything deep down despite the fact that that only hurts people more. tfl has a lot to answer for is a “reflection of drinking way too much in yr mid 20s, staying up too late, burning yrself out and how it impacts on yr relationships and mental health”. Recorded and produced by Rich Mandell (Happy Accidents, ME REX) over a couple of weekends in the summer of 2021, for everything, always is the constantly naive, but optimistic, outlook: always striving for a better future in the face of modern society’s bullshit. lts are a noisy pop band desperately clinging on to the ghosts of 2009. Their songs are a silly, joyful, and occasionally sad, look back at the tail end of their 20s, a way to grapple with breakups, parties, alcohol and loneliness, and looking hopefully into the future. They’ve released singles with Art Is Hard and For The Sakes Of Tapes, and self released an EP (The Weekend Was Always Almost Over), which was subsequently released on vinyl by Caballito records. adults are based in south London. Faster, messier and sillier than they have any right to be, adults are hopeful and joyous, fighting through the existential angst of youth to try and find their place in a world on the brink, as grown ups, as adults. Like the octopus on the artwork says: “we're all we've got, we're all we need”. // “a cacophony of clattering drums and belt-it-out choruses Los Campesinos! or Martha would be proud of evidence that adults seem to have stumbled into something rather marvellous” For The Rabbits // “There’s an ample buoyancy from the vocal work, and the guitars are crunchy, though I like how they’re a bit tempered here; think of Martha having to play at your local library…hooks, but just a little more subdued. There’s just something about this that radiates joy” Austin Town Hall // Tracklist: A1) I Had A Little Snooze & Now I Will Probably Never Arrive At Yr House A2) Janine (JG Forever) A3) All We’ve Got // All We Need A4) Tfl Has A Lot To Answer For A5) 2 Sqs A6) The Secret Song To End Side One B1) Things We Achieve B2) The Nod B3) The Pitch And Yaw Of The 6.12 To Brighton (Plain Wrong) B4) Between Buildings B5) Killing & Dying & Something More Positive B6) The High Watermark (Thoughts Of U) B7) Wasn’t Like That

From their new millennium rise to MTV superstardom through pop-punk’s modern resurgence that has introduced their iconic, multi-platinum sound to new audiences around the world, SIMPLE PLAN have been an indelible part of pop culture for more than two decades because they’ve never lost sight of what got them there in the first place: their fans.It’s this same sense of mutual respect that’s fully on display on “The Antidote,” the first single from their sixth studio album, HARDER THAN IT LOOKS., their first new music since 2016’s Taking One For The Team, and the most authentically Simple Plan album since 2004’s Still Not Getting Any. Free agents for the first time in their storied career, the band kept their circle tight during the recording process, enlisting longtime songwriting partners like We The Kings’ Travis Clark and producers Brian Howes and Jason Van Poederooyen (who worked on the band’s 2011’s album Get Your Heart On!) and Zakk Cervini (blink-182, Good Charlotte). From the skyscraping choruses of “Congratulations” and “Ruin My Life” (ft. Sum 41’s Deryck Whibley) to the unflinching poignancy of the album-closing “Two,” which instantly ranks alongside “Perfect” and “Untitled (How Could This Happen To Me?)” as one of the band’s best closers ever, HARDER THAN IT LOOKS certainly respects Simple Plan’s storied career – and the same spirit that helped the band sell 10 million albums worldwide – without being overtly reverent. The album-opening “Wake Me Up (When This Nightmare’s Over)” is a cathartic rush of familiarity and freshness – not to mention a bit lyrically prescient, as the COVID-19 pandemic hit shortly after the band wrapped the album. (“We certainly didn’t set out to write a pandemic album,” Bouvier says with a laugh. “It’s funny how some of the songs might seem like that, though.”) There are even spiritual successors to early material, like the glass-half-full skate-punk-leaning “Best Day Of My Life,” quite a 180 for a band who put a song called “The Worst Day Ever” on their genre-defining, Platinum-selling 2002 debut No Pads, No Helmets...Just Balls. But you won’t find an ounce of fat on the 10-song album, no obvious plays to recapture the radio waves they claimed in the early aughts with smash hits like “I’d Do Anything,” “I’m Just A Kid” and “Addicted.”

As three souls plunge down from the heavens, death and destruction can be felt hanging in the air like a foul stench. Red clouds swirl around a black sun that never sets and an erratic clock ticks off-tempo, moving faster and slower before rewinding and starting anew.

“Let me paint you a picture…” vocalist Mikey Arthur sings, welcoming listeners with a dramatic opening scene. It takes a skillful guide to navigate the darkest depths of hell. And, as The Gloom In The Corner depict in their second full-length album Trinity, death is merely the beginning of the series of chilling adventures

Purposefully aligning their song count with unlucky number thirteen – a reoccurring symbol in the ever-unfolding Gloom Cinematic Universe or GCU – it comes as little surprise to longtime fans that each of the Australian quartet’s enticing tracks intertwine to form an interlocking tale; this time centered around the appropriately labeled unholy trinity.

Comprised of previously deceased characters Rachel Barker, Ethan Hardy, and Clara Carne, the group’s bloody battle is woven throughout the album as the anti-heroes determinedly claw their way back to Earth from the Rabbit Hole dimension, slashing, shooting, and extinguishing anyone who dares to oppose their quest. Yet, for the Girl of Glass, Ronin, and Queen of Misanthropy, there is clearly more to the story than what can be contained within a single package.

Projecting a wide and complex web of lore, plot twists, and tongue and cheek humor, frontman Mikey Arthur, guitarist Matt Stevens, bassist Paul Musolino, and drummer Nic Haberle, have been producing highly detailed concept releases since their formation. And, consistently filling in more missing pieces of the puzzle with every body of work, the band equate each new record to a fresh season of The Umbrella Academy dropping on the streaming service of your choice. Because, just as a great TV series captivates viewers with its music and storytelling, the quartet’s work provides a complete experience designed to allow fans to check in with their favorite characters, all the while enjoying a cinematic new soundtrack.

For those just joining the GCU, as well as those looking for a quick refresh, 2016 debut album Fear Me introduced listeners to main protagonists Julian “Jay” Hardy, a Section 13 agent consumed by anger over his girlfriend Rachel’s death, and Jay’s gloom (later known as Sherlock Adaliah Bones), a demonic entity who at times takes over Jay’s body as a host vessel. 2017 EP Homecoming tells the tale of Jay’s brother Ethan, a war veteran suffering from PTSD, who upon discovering his brother’s struggle, kills himself as part of a Dante-style rescue mission to bring Rachel back to life. In 2019 EP Flesh and Bones, we’re introduced to Clara Carne, a past witness to one of Jay and Sherlock’s crimes, who instead of taking revenge, began a twisted love story with Sherlock, only to be murdered by his forced hand. And 2020’s Ultima Pluvia EP where we finally learn of Sherlock’s past as an ancient warlord under the tyrannical King Baphicho, and see Sherlock and Jay’s deaths ushered in by Section 13 opponent and New Order leader Elias DeGraver and his gloom Atticus Encey.

After 2016’s Fear Me, the band admit that their original intention was to jump straight into the events of Trinity before pivoting to create Homecoming, Flesh and Bones, and Ultima Pluvia. However, upon reflection, primary storywriter Mikey Arthur believes that pushing the timeline back actually provided greater opportunity for the group to properly flesh out the songs and plotlines for their sophomore studio record.

Indeed, while Trinity re-introduces the three central “heroes” of this new arc, it’s important to understand that while familiar, the characters are not carbon copies of who they were earlier in the story. And neither is the band who brought them to life.

Fully embracing the weird and whacky has never been a struggle for The Gloom In The Corner. Rather, it’s together with this attitude that the group come away with special moments such as the fascinating old and new dynamic between neighboring tracks “Red Clouds” – a song whose initial version predates the formation of The Gloom In The Corner as an official band – and “Gravity” in which a demo intended for future material was adjusted to fit the sonic drop.

Mirroring this evolution in the band’s musical approach, a sense of growth can also be seen projected in the characters and story that the quartet chronicle across the thirteen tracks.

Classifying their individual sound as an intricate form of “cinema or theater-core” due to the depth and breadth of their musical approach, features, samples, symphonic elements, and conceptual nature, The Gloom In The Corner continue to prove that they’re more than just a simple concept band.

In fact, similar to character theme music in movies and video games, the group seamlessly play off their diverse sonic story in a variety of ways. Continuing to breathe new life into older staples from their catalog, the quartet reworked their infamous “Oxymøron” breakdown from Fear Me into an impactful moment in Trinity’s “Nor Hell A Fury” and sprinkled audio easter eggs of this sort all throughout their new music for fans to discover.

Listeners are also brought further into the world of the GCU with the help of what The Gloom In The Corner call their “casting process.” Like picking actors for a musical, the band meticulously selected eleven different vocal features and several additional voice actors to bring the album and characters to life. Described as a 50/50 split between notable talents such as Ryo Kinoshita (Crystal Lake), Joe Badolato (Fit For An Autopsy), and Lauren Babic (Red Handed Denial), as well as talented friends and family like Elijah Witt (Cane Hill) and Mikey’s sister Amelia Duffield, each featured artist brought their own touch and realistic spark to the characters they portrayed.

For in the end, as much as Trinity and it’s cast live within the confines of their own supernatural worlds, themes such as falling out of love (Gatekeeper), battling depression (Obliteration Imminent), and standing behind women’s empowerment (Nor Hell A Fury), are ones that many can relate to or understand. And, while most individuals may avoid drowning their woes by way of transforming into full-on egotistical murderers like the Queen and King of Misanthropy and the gang, The Gloom In The Corner have illustrated that time and time again, life’s a little more fun when you can crack a smile. Taking a page from the trinity’s playbook: try to avoid the end of the world. But if you can’t…at least spend it with a killer soundtrack.

The third and most seasoned Drugdealer album, Hiding In Plain Sight, almost didn't happen at all. Frustrated and insecure with his own singing voice prior to the pandemic, Drugdealer founder and primary songwriter Michael Collins was nearly ready to throw in the towel. Due to a frequent impulse to hand over the microphone to friends and collaborators like Weyes Blood, Jackson MacIntosh, and his trusty musical companion Sasha Winn, Collins became increasingly unsure of himself as a singer. While attending Mexican Summer's annual Marfa Myths festival, a chance encounter with artist and composer Annette Peacock changed his outlook. Collins says, "I was so inspired by Annette. But similarly to all these other vocalists I'd worked with, I didn't feel like I had it in me." he recalls. "I told her my plight, then I played her a song, and she told me I wasn't singing high enough for my speaking voice. When I returned to LA, I started coming up with new progressions, which I'd modulate up three half steps. It forced me to find a new way to sing." "Madison," is the first song Collins wrote singing in this suggested range. His newfound confidence as a yarn-spinning vocalist in the gruff tenor tradition of Nick Lowe, or even Van Morrison, is readily apparent, with Conor "Catfish" Gallaher's pedal steel adding a dusting of cosmic country to Collins' down-hard love song. When Collins wrote the would-be AM Gold hit, he was summoning an imaginary vision of a love that had eluded him in reality. Tim Presley sings on the second song, "Baby," and Collins had a clear role in mind for the California avant-rock mainstay. "I love White Fence so much, but I also wanted to hear Presley sing a song that sounded like an early '60s sock hop band who had never tried drugs in their life." Meanwhile, Kate Bollinger floats an effervescent lead vocal over the Rhodes-driven groove in “Pictures of You.”. Taking inspiration from a canon of gruff but soulful rock vocalists like Phil Lynott, Collins looks back on his nocturnal meanderings through LA's warrens of bars and clubs ("New Fascination"). He’s right up front in the mix, detailing a search for love in all the wrong places.

Sasu Ripatti, now sporting the new "Ripatti Deluxe" moniker, presents his very own abstract take on early rave and happy hardcore. "Speed Demon" marks the first release on Ripatti's newly launched label "Rajaton".

The Finnish word ”raja” has multiple meanings. It could refer to a ”border”, ”limit”, ”boundary”, or even ”capacity” if understood broadly. It feels that ”border” is the first interpretation that comes to mind when the word is met in isolation of additional context. It often includes political energy of some sort. Or perhaps it’s just this particular point in time that leads the mind into such field of thought.

As the Dutch author Rutger Bregman notes in his book Human Kind – A Hopeful History, the real trouble with people began when the first person had the idea of drawing a line on sand and claiming ownership of the area on their side. The concept of physical borders was born.

Naturally, there are mental borders, as well. Think about all the things you shut out because they’re ”not for you”. They are numerous and we do it all the time. The issue is not to stop that, but to recognize when to let new things in, even if they’re not commonplace. Mental borders might often be easier to rewrite than physical ones, but the challenge remains a real one.

That’s where the derivative form ”rajaton” comes to play. By simply adding the ”-ton”, all borders, limits, boundaries and capacities are lifted in an instant. We have something ”borderless” instead, and are thus free to expand our thinking.

One could argue that the word ”rajaton” implies not the removal of borders but instead their very non-existence at large. How will our mind work when the concept of borders doesn’t even enter the conscious thought?

Mental borderlessness is a truly fascinating concept. A maximalist array of opportunities and potential ideas enters the picture – one which is also limitless, unlimited, sans boundaries, and also without a danger of being depleted. It’s an all-existence of multitudes where hierarchy also starts to deteriorate, giving way to a new form of full understanding without judgement.

Music is one fine place for such thinking, especially when thinking about the role of the listener. Occupying a much more active position than is generally recognized, the listener can greatly benefit from borderless thinking, and thus help to enhance the collective perceived significance of any given body of work. When there are no boundaries, the interpretation remains unchained and honest.

Basically it was all already said by the late revolutionary jazz pianist Burton Greene: ”Borders are boring!”

Gondwana Records announces Horizons the debut album from Jasmine Myra, produced by Matthew Halsall, it's an elevating debut record of understated beauty

Jasmine Myra is a Leeds-based saxophonist, composer and band leader Her original instrumental music has a euphoric and uplifting sound, influenced by artists as diverse as Kenny Wheeler, Bonobo and Olafur Arnalds and like Mammal Hands and Hania Rani her music has a special, emotive quality that draws the listener into her world. Matthew Halsall first heard Myra's music in 2019 shortly before the pandemic hit, signing her to Gondwana Records and producing her beautiful debut album, Horizons.

"I was immediately drawn to Jasmine's music. I could hear jazz, electronica in her music but with a deep, honest, emotional quality. I was really impressed with her skills as a composer and bandleader, that she is open and intelligent enough to bring all those influences together, to make something fresh and original. We were also delighted to work with a young artist from the North of England. London is often seen as the place to be, but cities like Manchester and Leeds are full of creative musicians too, and that sense of local community is at the heart of our values as a label."

Myra came-up through the bustling, creative Leeds music scene and her music draws on the sense of community that permeates life in the city and which is notable for a strong DIY ethos in its musical community. She attended Leeds Conservatoire and played with the Leeds based Abstract Orchestra, a jazz big-band, led by tutor Rob Mitchell that explores the synergy between jazz and hip-hop found in the recordings of Madlib, MF Doom of J Dilla. Indeed, Myra cites MF Doom and Soweto Kinch as early influences on her own music. It was in her last year at the conservatoire that Myra started to consider leading her own group and started to really think about what her own music might sound like and her first band featured guitarist Ben Haskins and drummer George Hall who both feature on Horizons and her band draws heavily on the Leeds community featuring rising stars such as pianist Jasper Green and harpist Alice Roberts.

Myra also mentions local legend, Dave Walker, who owns an instrument repair shop called 'All Brass and Woodwind' which is right next to the music college. She worked there while studying and he introduced her to a lot of local musicians. Walker also has his own line of saxophones (played by Shabaka Hutchins, Pete Wareham and Nubya Garcia), and gifted Myra the saxophone she plays on Horizons. It was Walker who encouraged Myra to apply for Jazz North Introduces, a scheme that supports emerging jazz artists in the North of England and Myra credits her winning a place, in 2018,with helping her grow in confidence.

" It gave me the opportunity to start gigging outside of Leeds, which I was very keen to do. I was quite surprised by people's reaction to the project and the support I was being shown, which helped me gain a lot of confidence. It became clear to me very quickly that being a solo artist was what I wanted to do and it was also apparent to me that mine was one of the only female-led instrumental bands on the Leeds scene, which encouraged me even more, as I wanted my project to inspire younger female musicians".

Horizons was produced by Matthew Halsall and mixed by Portico Quartet collaborator Greg Freeman, and much of the music was written during lockdown. It was a hard time for a lot of people, and initially Myra struggled mentally, deprived of shows and the connections of making music with her band and friends, but she also realised what she wanted as an artist and the result is heard on Horizons.

"I realised that my aim was to start writing music that made people feel happy and uplifted. Writing is one of my biggest passions, but I also love performing. Playing live and seeing the audience connect with my music and have a positive experience brings me so much joy".

This sense of elevation is at the heart of Horizons, together with the feeling of a journey, of reaching new ground. Prologue and Horizons were originally composed as one piece as they encapsulate Myra's own personal development as she worked on the album - taking the listener on a journey, especially Prologue; and then Horizons is that moment of release when you've reached the end goal. 1000 Miles takes inspiration from the music of Shabaka and the Ancestors. Whereas Words Left Unspoken was written after Myra's grandmother unexpectedly passed away in June, and due to Covid restrictions she was unable to visit her before she passed and say how much she loved her. Morningtide is a nod to Kenny Wheeler, particularly the track Opening from Sweet Time Suite on Music for Large and Small Ensembles but Myra also puts her own spin on it as she also does with Promise, another track influenced by Wheeler. Awakening has a calm and euphoric quality and represents that sense of problems lifting, or of reaching the other side, and New Beginnings finishes the album with a positive vibe and a sense of moving forward from darkness

This then is Horizons. A soulful, emotional and up-lifting debut from a major new voice. A snapshot of a young artist at the beginning of her journey - drawing on jazz and electronica influences to create something fresh and new. But also a celebration of her home town Leeds, and a record built on a sense of support and community before looking out to wider Horizons.

Jamie Cullum on BBC Radio 2 "...That's Jasmine Myra and 'New Beginnings', wonderful to hear new music from a new artists i've not heard before, a great new artist!"

Tom Ravenscroft on BBC 6 Music "Leeds-based saxophonist, composer and band leader Jasmine Myra. 'New Beginnings' on Gondwana Records. Compositions drawing influence by Kenny Wheeler, Bonobo, Ólafur Arnalds. Produced by Matthew Halsall"

Far over on the west coast of the USA we find a room full of drum
machines, samplers and keyboards. Hard at work is Israel ‘Iz’ Gravning aka Tone Scientist, who’s been using this Seattle studio to produce genre-defying future music for more than 25 years.
An avid student of jazz fusion, hip hop, house, techno and others, he
was galvanised to build his own studio after hearing jungle and drum & bass on a trip to London in 1995. His musical course thus intersected with the collectives then pushing new dancefloor sonics rooted in the rich tradition of Black music – like Nuyorican Soul over on the east coast, and the new broken beats of IG Culture, Dego and Bugz In The Attic in London. Then, in the early 2000s, Iz put out a handful of EPs under different aliases, including ‘Lion Dub’ on the Guidance sublabel Subtitled, but soon stepped back from the public stage. That’s not to say he stopped making or playing music, though. Far from it. Fast forward two decades and our very own Walrus, chilly but happy in the depths of a Toronto winter, happened across ‘Lion Dub’ in the legendary Play The Record store. Intrigued, he tracked Iz down and discovered he had been active all this time. A short email exchange later and this 2xLP of archive material was born.

These six tracks explain fully why Iz calls his studio the ‘Time Machine’: vintage equipment and instruments converse with up-to-date software; classic sounds and textures twist into fresh configurations; and Iz’s own creativity and musicality sings to us from a location beyond the trappings of time or genre.

All music written, produced and mixed by Israel Gravning aka Tone
Scientist in Seattle/Washington between 2005 - 2008 except for “Things

NNAMDÏ has never been able to stay in one place. The Chicago
multi-instrumentalist and songwriter set a blistering pace in 2020
with his critically acclaimed genre-fusing LP, ‘Brat’, a punk EP,
‘Black Plight’, and ‘Krazy Karl’, a full-length tribute to Looney
Tunes composer Carl Stalling. Add in his role as co-owner of label
Sooper Records, as well as recent tours with Wilco, SleaterKinney and black midi, and it’s an overwhelming schedule.
 However, his latest album, ‘Please Have A Seat’, is the result of a
much needed pause. “I realized I never take time to just sit and
take in where I’m at,” says NNAMDÏ. “It’s just nice to not be on
‘Go, Go, Go!’ mode, and re-evaluate where I wanted to go
musically.” This period of reflection allowed him to take stock of his
life and his relationships. “I wanted to be present,” he says. “Each
song came from a moment of clarity.” ‘Please Have A Seat’ serves
as an invitation to listen. It’s a request to sit down, be present, and
take in a moment. With this quiet introspection, NNAMDÏ found
inspiration in silence and nuance.
 While making the record, he decided to stretch the limits of his pop
songwriting: every track had to be hummable. Though he’s written
earworms throughout his career from playing in bands in
Chicago’s DIY community or releasing goofy raps as Nnamdi’s
Sooper Dooper Secret Side Project, here, his shapeshifting hooks
are undeniable. Each of the album’s fourteen songs, which
NNAMDÏ wrote, produced, and performed entirely himself, are
relentlessly re-playable, careening into unexpected and
disorienting places. With NNAMDÏ’s singular vision, ‘Please Have
A Seat’ is yet another leap from Chicago’s hardest working
musician. By taking a minute to sit down and catch his breath, he
re-emerged with the most ambitious, accessible, and nuanced
work of his career.
 Coloured vinyl LP format pressed on Walnut Brown vinyl.

Ekkehard Ehlers' seminal plays series was originally released on three 12inches (Staubgold) and two 7inches (Bottrop-Boy) in very limited runs. The entire series was previously only available as a CD compilation or digitally. Keplar finally presents it on double vinyl for the first time, featuring a new cover artwork.

Domestic ethnology: Ekkehard Ehlers plays.

‘Play’ is a word in English with many meanings attached. Each one sends you down a different cognitive pathway. When I think of ‘playing’, in the sense of a game, I think of an activity involving more than one person. When Ekkehard Ehlers plays, he is very much on his own. Or, at least, alone but at the same time keeping intimate company with the artistic innovators named in his titles. Robert Johnson. John Cassavetes. Albert Ayler. Cornelius Cardew. Hubert Fichte. Is he playing with them, against them, about them, for them, to them? This can never be known.

It is certainly a mistake to try to hear the ‘work’ of these originals in the sounds played by Ekkehard. They’re not cover versions. They’re hardly tributes in the conventional sense. Cassavetes and Fichte are not even musicians, although music played an important part in both their careers. Sure, there are little nods and flashes of recognition – tiny guitar licks among the minimal beats of ‘Robert Johnson 2’; rich bowed instruments in ‘Albert Ayler’, recalling the violin, cello and double bass arrangements on Ayler’s 1967 Live in Greenwich Village LP; the elongated organ lines of ‘Cornelius Cardew 1’ gesturing towards passages in Paragraph 1 of the British composer’s 1971 Marxist monolith, The Great Learning. Ekkehard is not so much playing these figures as allowing himself to be played by them.

Playing as an activity also suggests freedom. Maybe the only thing all five named persons have in common is that they were all quiet radicals. In music, literature and cinema, they all stepped, without self-promotion or fanfare, into unmapped territories. Once there they found it necessary to invent new languages in order to survive. Necessity was the mother of their inventiveness. They were also uncomfortable avant gardists. Lonely types, fighting their corners out on the margins, with little reward, often misunderstood, ridiculed or ignored.

All died unfairly young. Fichte a victim of HIV/AIDS, Cassavetes of cirrhosis of the liver. (‘Cassavetes 2’ sounds like a tender farewell played across the 59 year old alcoholic director’s death bed.) The deaths of Johnson, Ayler and Cardew have never been satisfactorily explained, and remain shrouded in myths and conspiracy theories. The pioneering expeditions of all five began in that spirit of playful freedom, but inexorably drew them towards the heart of darkness.

So these ‘plays’ are micro-dramas, sonic soliloquies, monolog-ins to the private accounts of various geniuses in Ekkehard’s ‘follow’ list. Hacked sensibilities. Artistic manifestos boiled down and distilled, skinned and dried in the digital smokehouse. (Ekkehard Ehlers Flays.) Each of these plays was originally floated out into the world alone on its own disc. The collected works play well as a team – a tranquil, introspective experience where each artist has his own identifiably unique sound character. As an album, Plays is a ‘Plattenragout’ – a ‘record stew’ – which was the title of Hubert Fichte’s LP review column in the leftist culture magazine konkret in the 1960s. The novelist’s work investigating the cultures of South America and the Caribbean islands has been called ‘domestic ethnology’. The writer himself referred to his ‘ethnopoesie’. Ekkehard Ehlers’s intuitive electronic portraits are a form of domestic ethnology in themselves. Invoking another of Ekkehard’s musical aliases, they are portraits of cultural ‘autopoiesies’ – creators whose works were strong enough to have their own self-regenerating life force. (by Rob Young)

All tracks written and produced by Ekkehard Ehlers.
Featuring Stephan Mathieu, Joseph Suchy, Anka Hirsch.
Tracks A1 to C2 originally released on three 12inches via Staubgold.
Tracks D1 to D4 originally released on two 7inches via Bottrop-Boy.
Plays originally released as CD compilation in 2002 by Staubgold.
Mastered by Rashad Becker.
Cut to vinyl by Lupo, Berlin, 2022.
Redesigned by Sandra Kastl, 2022.
Photos by Ludger Blanke

„All The Colours“ was a concept that came about from Andy Ash bringing together his music and visual art in an attempt to try and identify the common ground between the two. In both mediums, Andy attempts to convey the full range of human identity – at first you see and hear euphoria and playfulness, but look a little closer and you will also notice anger, sadness and tension. On this album, Andy approaches house music as the vehicle to convey many different feelings. These tracks are designed to be played on the dancefloor and bring people together – this is what house music has always been about!

The whole album was made over a two-year period in Andy’s home studio using a mixture of analogue hardware and samples. During this period, Andy was suffering with some significant mental health problems and this album represents his attempts to channel this energy into something productive. This is also the first time Andy has worked with vocalists, bringing a new dimension to his music. Whether it is the old school inspired „The sound“ which features vocalist Erik Rico, or the deep and moody „I’m Here“ featuring Liverpool vocalist Amber Kuti, this album brings many different shades of house music to the table! A real statement!

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

=

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

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

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

=

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

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

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

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

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

=

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

=

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Pure Wicked Tune is a mixtape-style collection of extracts & cut-ups, taken from DIY cassette recordings featuring rare groove and "soul blues" soundsystems playing at early morning house parties and blues dances - mostly in South & East London - between the mid 1980s & early 90s.

Sounds like Funkadelic, Touch of Class, Latest Edition, JB Crew, Manhattan, 5th Avenue (and the many more featured on this tape) originally began to form in the mid-1980s. With lovers rock dwindling, and the reggae scene becoming dominated by harder digital-style dancehall, these sounds provided a tight but loyal crowd with a potent alternative - playing a mixture of killer rare soul, funk and boogie records in an inimitably reggae soundsystem style, complete with toasting, sirens and effects aplenty.

They were most well-known for playing at house parties and blues dances, typically in small flats or warehouses, with timing of such events generally running from the early morning hours until late the next afternoon. Though the popularity of the sounds faded following the dance music explosion of the early 1990s, there has been continued demand for revival sessions ever since. Whilst the influence of key British reggae & dancehall soundsystems on subsequent UK sounds like hardcore & jungle is relatively well documented, a similar line can just as easily be drawn from these sounds and the aforementioned styles' tendency toward sampling popular rare groove cuts, particularly well evidenced in the work of Tom & Jerry, 4hero, Reinforced & LTJ Bukem among others.

This represents the first outing in a series of collections exploring the sounds of UK soundsystem culture, via extracts from archival DIY cassette recordings of blues parties, dances & clashes made between the late 70s and early 90s. Often duplicated and shared widely, these ruff and ready "sound tapes" provided keen ears with music that wasn't otherwise readily available on the airwaves or in the record shops, and would go on to leave a deeply-rooted but too often overlooked influence on the UK's musical landscape.

"Bobby Dove is a gifted artist, and a brilliant new light on the songwriting scene - A time traveler, Bobby's songs meld genres with the touch of a master - I am a fan" – Mary Gauthier.Bobby Dove has built a following across Canada and beyond Born in Montreal, Quebec, Bobby has become known as one of the country's most dedicated troubadours, crooning live audiences with heart- worn originals, and paying tribute to the golden age of Country music. Along the road, Bobby has worked with a number of legendary players, and shared stages with artists such as Mary Gauthier, Richard Thompson, Irish Mythen, The Sadies and JD Mcpherson.

Bobby Dove's new album, Hopeless Romantic, offers eleven new
original Americana/Country songs on subjects such as unrequited love, being on the road, a haunted hotel and a hard-rocking pallbearer. Co-produced with Bazil Donovan (Blue Rodeo) and Tim Vesely (Rheostatics) at The Woodshed studio in Toronto,On, the record includes some of the finest in Canadian Country music including members of Blue Rodeo Jim Cuddy, Bazil Donovan and Jimmy Bowskill (The Sheepdogs, Blue Rodeo), and Burke Carroll (Kathleen Edwards).

The Dove is currently perched in western Manitoba, supporting the launch of Hopeless Romantic, as well as releasing The Bobby Dove Show, a virtual variety show, featuring Bobby's new songs, and interviews with renowned roots/Country singer- songwriters from across Canada. Sponsored by the Canada Council for the Arts, the show can be streamed on Bobby's social- media as well as on bobbydove.

"Dove can write rings around all but the very best of troubadours, telling stories in a compelling way…. This is very impressive indeed and I suggest you get Bobby Dove on your radar immediately." – Country Music People Magazine