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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."

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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.

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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."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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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.

RIYL: Velvet Underground, Lou Reed, Nick Cave, Patti Smith, Leonard Cohen, Iggy Pop, Radiohead & Tom Waits. "If you have never heard the Doctors of Madness, you should. Musically they are the Velvet Underground, New York Dolls with shades of glam, hippie, prog and punk all rolled into one, yet are still totally original. Vastly underrated, they should have been huge. Pure genius" Vic Reeves…. The DOM are “the missing link between David Bowie & The Sex Pistols” (The Guardian May 2017). Exploding onto the music scene in 1975 with their theatrical, William Burroughs-inspired Sci-fi nightmare, they were misunderstood by many, but those who knew understood the importance of the band’s dangerous, uncompromising approach to lyrics, to music and to performance. Among the many fans of the band were acts as diverse as The Damned, Vic Reeves, Joe Elliott of Def Leppard, Spiritualized, Julian Cope, The Adverts, The Skids and Simple Minds. The Sex Pistols supported them, so did The Jam & Joy Division. They were the first to combine the avant-garde approach of The Velvet Underground with a distinctly European aesthetic. The blue hair, exotic stage-names, the lyrical themes of urban decay, political propaganda, mind control and madness were all taken up by the punk bands who followed in their wake. The DOM were trailblazers, pioneers, adventurers…pushing the boundaries of rock music and theatre to see how far it would go before it bust. What happened after them was due, in no small part, to what they achieved in 3 short years. They may not have been Jesus Christ, but they were, arguably, John the Baptist!!! Now, 40 years after they imploded, they are back…with an album seething with lyrical anger and passion. It is the most potent and incisive musical dissection of modern life and contemporary politics released the decade. With tracks titles like “So Many ways To Hurt You”, “Sour Hour”, “Make It Stop!” and the ground-breaking sonic assault of the title track “Dark Times”, Richard “Kid” Strange proves once again that he has his finger firmly on the pulse of our times, just as he had when he founded the band in 1974. Produced by John Leckie (Radiohead, Stone Roses, Pink Floyd), the new album, Dark Times, features contributions from Joe Elliott (Def Leppard), Sarah Jane Morris (Communards), Terry Edwards (PJ Harvey, Nick Cave etc), Steve ‘Boltz’ Bolton (The Who, Scott Walker) and the young protest singer Lily Bud, alongside the current thrilling and thunderous DOM rhythm section of Susumu Ukei (bass guitar) & Mackii Ukei (drums) of the Japanese extreme glam-metal band Sister Paul, and Dylan O Bates (violin and keyboards). Julian Cope, another rock star who, like Strange, found the confines of music too tight for his ambition, his energy and his imagination, was blown away when he first heard the songs, declaring, “These Dark Times are enormously informing: the RULES OF THE FUTURE are indeed being forged right now”. Top producer Martyn Ware (Human League/Heaven 17) said the album “…reminds me of Iggy Pop’s Kill City album – love it.” and Biba Kopf (The Wire) declared, “Still listening to new DOM album with immense interest and pleasure”. The first single, Make It Stop!, is an impassioned howl against the global drift to right wing extremism and persecution of minorities, and is already a live showstopper for the band. It features the thrilling cross-generational combination of Def Leppard’s Joe Elliott and Lily Bud on backing vocals. In the period since the last DOM gig in 1978, Richard has written a memoir, collaborated on a cantata with internationally celebrated composer Gavin Bryars, worked as an actor on films with Tim Burton, Martin Scorsese, Harmony Korine & Jack Nicholson, toured the world in a Russian version of Hamlet with James Nesbitt as his grave-digging co-star, played Glastonbury, sung baritone in the British premiere of Frank Zappa’s200 Motels at the Royal Festival Hall, directed a multi-media evening celebrating the life and work of William Burroughs, won Best Art Film Prize at the Portobello Film Festival last year, had his own live talk show, worked with Tom Waits and Marianne Faithfull on the William Burroughs/Robert Wilson stage play The Black Rider, curated events for the Tate Gallery, and sung Walt Disney songs with Jarvis Cocker.

Whether it be on the banks of the Mississippi River or deep in the heart of the English countryside, rock 'n' roll lives, breathes, and burns on the outskirts. Hailing from Rome, GA, at the foothills of the Appalachian Mountains, The Georgia Thunderbolts rise up with a scorching signature style steeped in soulful southern swagger. On, Can We Get A Witness, their full-length debut for Mascot Records, the quintet—TJ Lyle vocals, harp, piano, Riley Couzzourt [guitar], Logan Tolbert [guitar], Zach Everett [bass, keys], and Bristol Perry [drums]—conjure a tried-and-true spirit through a fresh fire.
“We all grew up on rock music,” Riley says. “Rock ‘n’ roll comes back around, but longevity depends on grinding it out. That’s what we want to do. We try to put in the work our favorite bands did. If I could think of three words to describe us, they would be ‘Hardworking, Determined, and Humble’.”




Gigging tirelessly, they cut their teeth by playing with Black Stone Cherry, The Kentucky Headhunters, Blackberry Smoke, Tyler Bryant & The Shakedown, Atlanta Rhythm Section, Molly Hatchet and The Cadillac Three. The band began when Bristol and Riley initially bonded over rock ‘n’ roll in high school. By sophomore year, they had a regular jam schedule, and eventually joined up Zack, TJ, and Logan to round out the group. They share a wide swath of inspirations, ranging from southern gospel to Hank Williams, Jr., Neil Young, Little Feet, Waylon Jennings, Ray Charles, Merle Haggard to the hard rock of Ozzy Osbourne, Audioslave, Bad Company and of course, The Allman Brothers & Lynyrd Skynyrd.
The band recorded at the iconic Barrick Recording Studio in Glasgow, KY, with producer Richard Young. The album comprises of thirteen undeniable anthems, beginning with opener “Take It Slow.” Distilling whisky-soaked riffs, wild harmonica, and pulse-pounding drums into a simmering groove, it struts out of the gate with confidence and charisma. “There’s a message to what we’re doing,” Bristol leaves off. “It’s okay to be yourself. If you’re going through hard times, the music will always be there. We’d love to remind everyone of that.” The Georgia Thunderbolts embody the blue-collar working man who has put their foot down on the accelerator towards the rock ‘n roll American dream.

In the late ‘80s, a wave of British musicians raised on ‘70s UK pop, Caribbean sound system culture, reggae, lovers rock and Motown/Philly soul music fell in love with synthesisers, drum machines and 8-track recorders. The street soul generation had arrived.

Originally released as a white label 12” in 1989, ‘You’ve Gone’ is the sole release from Bassline, the studio project of Southeast London-raised musician Tony Henry, not to be confused with Tony Henry from Manchester jazz-funk/R&B band 52nd Street. Featuring the singer Lorraine Chambers, it’s one of the true jewels of the UK Street Soul scene. As Lorraine’s heartsick soul vocal glides over sunrise synths, dusty drums, elegant electric piano figures and a reggae indebted bassline, ‘You’ve Gone’ captures the optimism and strength of the era perfectly.

‘You’ve Gone’ was championed by Choice FM UK (now Capital XTRA), Kiss FM, and DJ Trevor Nelson. Tony went from selling white labels out the trunk to booking in Live PAs for Lorraine with London sound systems like Rampage and up north in the street soul loving cities of Manchester and Birmingham. “When Lorraine did PAs up there, she went out on stage like she was Beyoncé.”

The son of a Jamaican father and an English mother, Tony grew up around the London sound system scene. He taught himself bass guitar, keyboards, and production, before playing in the reggae band Chakwanza (Swahili for “the first”). In Chakwanza, Tony rubbed shoulders with Aswad, Barry Boom, Steel Pulse, Maxi Priest, Gregory Issacs, Dennis Brown, Ghettotone and Saxon Sound, before focusing on a career in banking over music. “Music was my first love, but it couldn’t have afforded me the sort of level of - let’s be blunt and pragmatic about it - financial success that would have allowed me to support my family.”

Outside of office hours, Tony continued to work on music at home, sometimes serving as a session bassist with local bands. In the late 80s, a work colleague mentioned her sister Lorraine Chambers was a singer. Tony and Lorraine recorded “You’ve Gone” over two sessions. “Lorraine went into the booth, put her headphones on and got into the song. My daughter turned to me and said, ‘Daddy, she can really sing!’”

Despite the success of ‘You’ve Gone’, they never recorded together again. “The world changed, and for me, it changed as well. My younger kids were born, and work started getting more intense. I got a bit more successful and was living a mad, kind of crazy life.”

Thirty-two years on, ‘You’ve Gone’ finally receives an official reissue comprising the lauded original mix, an alternate version and Tony’s Back to Bass-ics remix. Fittingly, in recent months, Tony and Lorraine have re-connected in the studio writing new material.

pink vinyl limited to 500
Insides’s music shimmers and tingles with the tantalising promise of a different direction that UK pop could’ve gone: future-facing and fresh, rather than nostalgic regurgitation.” Simon Reynolds, author and music critic, writing in  Euphoria re-issue liner-notes in 2019

“A sound still as dew fresh, dawn dazzled and shot through with luscious darkness as it was nigh on three decades ago.” Neil Kulkarni, The Wire, 2019

Insides are Julian Tardo and Kirsty Yates. They first recorded together in the early 90s as Earwig, and released an album, 'Under My Skin I am Laughing', which brought them to the attention of 4AD. Earwig morphed into Insides and  two further albums were released on 4AD’s Guernica imprint: ‘Euphoria' (1993) and 'Clear Skin' (1994). In 2019 ‘Euphoria' was reissued for US Record Store Day by Beacon Sound, and was hailed as a lost treasure by discerning outlets. 

'Soft Bonds' is Insides’ first release for 20 years. It’s the sound of heart-stopping slow motion, blood rushes, fingers digging into bruised flesh, and sleeping with clenched fists.

“We found some things that were recorded a long time ago. We added some things that have been haunting us for for years and recorded some other ideas that we’d just thought of. Recording started at home in 2012, and continued every now and then in our studio, on trains, in the Greek island of Naxos and while wandering around Cissbury Ring, Chanctonbury Ring and Devil’s Dyke in the South Downs. We finally walked away from the recordings in late 2019 and decided to release a small run of CDs and LPs on our own Further Distractions label.

'Soft Bonds' is about the past haunting the present, and gripping onto your crumbling sense of self. It’s informed by the spirit of This Heat/This Is Not This Heat, Patty Waters, Annette Peacock, Eartheater, Mhysa, Hailu Mergia, Scott Walker and Arca.”

The first track to be released, 'Ghost Music', was also the first to be finished and came about by scrapping the original structure, leaving only the trace elements. Working in the negative space that’s left behind, where rhythms are pulses and heartbeats and melodies are memories, it’s insistent, staring, but not shouting. Almost absent, or heard from another room. The video uses footage of Kirsty and Julian filmed and used in live shows in 1993 and cut with more recent footage from 2016. The past haunts the present.

“Pop loving the sound of itself to death. And hating the fact that it can’t stop loving.” Rob Young, The Wire, 1993

“...they seemed to be creating an entirely new version of pop. Their hooks were unmistakable, in that they triggered movement like perpetual-motion clockwork. Their grooves were sparse and spectral and nagged at you like breakbeats but made your heart and hair-follicles dance more than your feet. Their music was amniotic, ebbing and alive with iridescent melodic detail and lyrics that turned the turmoils and trauma of love into the sweetest searing honesty you’d been privy to since you first heard the Supremes.” Neil Kulkarni, The Quietus, 2011

The Berlin based label Sonar Kollektiv has been waiting for it anxiously: Key Elements' debut album leads Jazz music into the new decade down-the-line. The music Key Elements create is fresh, merciless and ruthless and has always the finger on the pulse of the time. The album's eight tracks are all far away from Broken Beat nostalgia or Beatmaking nedism, they breathe inspiration from the young, thriving British jazz scene. Key Element's initiator, DJ and producer Marian Tone, built up a reputation in the Berlin hiphop, soul and jazz scene over the years (also as a co-founder of Beatkollektiv). With all of his compositions you always feel this heritage and his love and passion for hiphop. But the other two allys within ëKey Elementsû, drummer Waldi and the keyboard or bass player Jim Dunloop made their contribution with compositions and ideas as well. An album which was initially designed to be a mere solo project became an effort of a trio over the years being inherently consistent.

When Air’s Nicolas Godin released his debut solo album, Contrepoint (2015), he channelled the influence of Bach into a rich, resonant and hugely rewarding spread of musical explorations. One soundtrack (A Very Secret Service) later, Godin builds on equally fertile conceptual foundations for the follow-up. Released through Because Music on 24th January, Concrete and Glass is an exquisitely crafted set of variations on architectural reference points: mounted with minimalist precision and delivered with an abundance of pop warmth, it finds Godin in his element, working seductive wonders with poise and style to spare.

For Godin, the album circles back to his formative work as half of ground-breaking French electronic group Air. Revered modern architect Le Corbusier was an influence on the young architecture graduate’s music, notably on his 1997 debut “Modular Mix”. Twenty-plus years later, Le Corbusier featured on a list of modernist architects Godin was invited to compose tributes for, tributes intended to be heard as the soundtrack to site-specific installations around the world.

In its soft ambient pulse and melting minimalism, lead track “The Border” is a perfect entry-point to Godin’s hymns to buildings, arranged and co-produced with Pierre Rousseau. Its levitating synths, vocoder vocals and scudding bass hove into view with understated elegance, all the better to accommodate the discreet slow-build of delicate details within. As with Air, Godin makes gorgeously light work of every angle: this is music that seems entirely unperturbed by gravity, occupying an elevated atmosphere of its own.

Elsewhere, the title-track’s clean synth lines, crisply apportioned arrangements and tender timpani offer another inviting entry-point, sculpted with architectural clarity. While Godin’s vocoder vocals also hark back to Air’s early work, the album accommodates a diverse spread of guest vocalists elsewhere. Hot Chip’s Alexis Taylor guests on the falsetto-soul dream-pop of “Catch Yourself Falling”, one of Godin’s sweetest melodies yet. Oxnard singer/activist Cola Boyy brings soul to the righteously engaged “The Foundation”; the squelchy synths and buoyant grooves burn slow, allowing the stealthy arrangements and message room to resonate. Psychedelic soul singer Kadhja Bonet sings with measured serenity over tremulous synths on “We Forgot Love”, while Russian experi-pop artist Kate NV brings a gracefully aching romanticism to the blissful swoon-pop of “Back to Your Heart”.

Additionally, Australian conceptual provocateur Kirin J Callinan contributes a vocal of restrained drama to “Time on My Hands”, a midnight-drift soft-pop ballad with a silky allure. One of the quickest tracks to record for the album, it emerged in collaborations between Los Angeles (”During some lively sessions in Mac DeMarco’s studio,” notes Godin) and Paris. After he missed his flight home, Callinan stayed in France for a day as the guitar solos were recorded, complementing the song's air of sleek luxuriousness.

Between its title-track and the sultry, smoky jazz stylings of closer “Cité Radieuse”, Concrete and Glass is an album that truly travels, in tune with its global pitch. For Godin, it marks another milestone in a musical journey that began when Air’s 1998 debut album, Moon Safari, became the sublimely weightless soundtrack of its time. For Concrete and Glass, Godin builds on his storied past with tremendous finesse, charm and fluency, opening fresh windows of perspective at every lovingly executed turn.

The hyper talneted Stellar Om Source (NOT NOT FUN, RVNG, NO 'LABEL) blowing up new styles on this one!

"If there is one thing that leaps out from Stellar OM Source’s music, it is the sense of a highly active mind at work. There is an indivisible feeling that a real person is behind this dynamic flurry of tones, waves, vibrations and modulations. On I See Through You, the first full Stellar OM Source release in over four years, the spark that first LP piqued the interest of so many listeners is glowing stronger than ever.

In the 2010's, Christelle Gualdi carved a name as one of the most essential live electronic musicians around, dazzling dancers and home listeners in kind with her bombastic, acidic hardware jams. Circumstances outside her control forced a stop for the Stellar OM Source project. It was touring, including two shows in the summer of 2019 at Dekmantel Festival and Listen! that Gualdi credits as year highlights, which proved to be the integral jump-start to the engine.

Inspiration came rushing back thanks to the human connection of performing. Seeing a younger generation connect with her put fresh charge into the circuitry of her gear. All this accrued into new material on the road, and thus I See Through You was born.

The spirit of 2013’s cult favourite Joy One Mile is alive and well on I See Through You. There is once again immediacy, urgency and lust. But Stellar OM Source stepping into a comparatively more poppy and playful mode on these four tracks could also throw some. Fundamentally she says, it comes from a similar place, and ends with an enmeshed and positive outcome. Gualdi credits both “1995 rave” and “the clarity, bass and breath” of hi-def hip-hop productions as being twin northern stars for her to follow.

The artwork comes from friend and highly respected photographer & director Pierre Debusschere, whose work similarly flits between arresting close-ups and, well, the widescreen luxe of Beyoncé videos. “I’m definitely not a purist anymore,” Gualdi laughs – and with club-ready impact meeting human warmth, this shows in abundance.

“Night Alone” wastes no time in getting the listener up to speed. Is that an LFO sample running through “Night Alone”? Is this a lost Metro Area classic? Is that Stellar OM Source taking a diversion into searching Ibiza-rousing vocal for a moment, or did we imagine that in a heat haze? Where are the kicks? Oh there they are. How many elements are buried and revived within just over five minutes?
It’s hard to tell. Before we know it, “Lost Codes” is up and away, keeping pulses racing. A pitter-patter of baby kicks feel like a pre-tremor before a welting electro-Italo lead crashes into play. With fizzing energy, rasping synths and a frisson of danger, fans of Unit Moebius and The Hacker will be doing somersaults of joy.

“White Echoes” wastes kicks off the flip side with low gurgles descending briefly like a UFO reverse parking into the spot SOS had vacated. Soon, 303s are twisting like Chinese burns while warm chords offer a salve. The mood maintains on “Wild Palms”, the only song on this record not to feature additional mixing work from Peaking Lights’ dub-wise sensei Aaron Coyes.

True to form, the B2 is all Stellar: elements switching up and out, with all the fun and frenzy of capital-L Live action. Kick drums and bassline darting back and forth like a synchronised swimming routine, all elements in concert. The momentum of a runaway mine cart that you can’t help but strap yourself to. I See Through You is one for the dancers who have given Stellar OM Source the motive to move forward once again."

Soulful alert : the Mochi Men (Young Pulse & ATN) meets Brooklyn Funk Essentials, reviving a forgotten Franckie Knuckles gem in the best garage tradition ! After successfuly remixing on wax the new UK jazz funk sensation Resolution 88 and the top french
latin funk act Setenta, the french & fresh duet, Mochi Men, got the honors to work with the legendary acid jazz band, Brooklyn Funk Essentials. This 3rd release on Mochi Records, « Watcha
want from me », is a song formely co-written by House music icon Franckie Knuckles and Lati Kronlund of BFE, which has been re-recorded for the band latest album « Stay good ». Now given the Mochi treatment, the result is an epic and uplifting piece of authentic soulful house, promised to be a timeless club anthem, embellished with an extra Young Pulse dub track !

The french and fresh production team Mochi Men (Young Pulse & ATN) is back on wax, releasing their 2nd official remix on Mochi Records ! After making a great impression with their previous and
sold out release (the deep house – UK jazz funk remix of Resolution 88’s "Taking Off), they return with a monster nu disco boogie nugget, remixing “Boys and Girls” from the famous french latin funk sensation, Setenta ! With a strong reputation since their first hit “Funky Tumbao”, followed by 4 LP's, a collaboration (on record and on stage) with Nuyorican legend Joe Bataan and even a remix
by Kenny Dope Gonzalez (Masters At Work), the Parisalseros of Setenta entrust their latest hit to the Mochi Men funky rascals.
The result is a heavy boogie bounce of a real party jam, that hits hard on the dancefloor

Death & Leisure is proud to announce the sophomore album from the very special Autumns.
6 tracks of raw sneering electronics. Coming out in spring.
Autumns is the solo project of Christian Donaghey, From Derry, Ireland, an outlet for electronic post-punk with a lethal pulse. After a brace of rough demos without preliminary hype, the project emerged fully formed on Karl O’Connor’s (aka Regis) illustrious label Downwards back in 2014, the youngest act in a new vanguard of artists that included the likes of Tropic of Cancer, DVA DAMAS and The Kvb.

– Extended Autumns biography here-

Autumns is the solo project of Christian Donaghey, From Derry, Ireland, an outlet for electronic post-punk with a lethal pulse. After a brace of rough demos without preliminary hype, the project emerged fully formed on Karl O’Connor’s (aka Regis) illustrious label Downwards back in 2014, the youngest act in a new vanguard of artists that included the likes of Tropic of Cancer, DVA DAMAS and The Kvb.

Preceding releases for Clan Destine Records, iDEAL Recordings and DKA Records have seen the project engaged in a rough trade of transgressive noise, dysfunctional metal dance and DIY punk angst, yet each of these milestones has represented a different proposition. 2016’s ‘A Product of 30 Years of Violence’ saw the project moving into vast glacial spaces after propulsive post-punk discord of 2015’s ‘Das Nichts’. 2017 presented a further progression into Autumns’ journey from his post-punk beginnings to producing some of the tautest and no bullshite electronic music around with the release of his debut album ‘Suffocating Brothers’ on Clan Destine Records. Gaining radio play from selectors like Trevor Jackson, Regis, Debonair and Giant Swan.

Alongside progressive appearances on cult labels the project has developed a notorious high-intensity live show, having played and toured with artists such as Silent Servant, Veronica Vasicka and Wire, performing to audiences from Los Angeles to Beirut, and Moscow to Berlin. Autumns’ has also ventured outside the typical music world by taking up projects such as performing alongside Samuel Kerridge at the 2016 edition of Paris Fashion Week for Downwards, creating a sound installation at Void Gallery, and improvising a desolate live score to David Lynch’s ‘Twin Peaks: Fire Walk With Me’. Earning Autumns a fierce reputation not only as a live act, but as a multi-disciplinary artist.

Following contributions to labels such as Amok Tapes, Touch Sensitive, Veyl (Maenad Veyl) and Earwiggle (Sunil Sharpe), as well as remixes for Strange Therapy, Infidel Bodies, and Clan Destine Records. 2019 see’s Autumns’ experimentation in the studio go much deeper, with the release of his sophomore album ‘Shortly After Nothing’ on Oliver Ho’s (aka Broken English Club) innovative ‘Death & Leisure’ label, alongside a heavy touring schedule, a collaboration with post-punk legend Eric Random, the launch of his radio show ‘Dyslexia Tracks’ on Dublin Digital Radio and more upcoming releases to surface throughout the year.

Pale Bloom finds Sarah Davachi coming full circle. After abandoning the piano studies of her youth for a series of albums utilizing everything from pipe and reed organs to analog synthesizers, this prolific Los Angeles-based composer returns to her first instrument for a radiant work of quiet minimalism and poetic rumination.

Recorded at Berkeley, California's famed Fantasy Studios, Pale Bloom is comprised of two delicately-arranged sides. The first – a three-part suite where Davachi's piano acts as conjurer, beckoning Hammond organ and stirring countertenor into a patiently unfolding congress – recalls Eduard Artemiev's majestic soundtrack for Andrei Tarkovsky's Solaris. "Perfumes I-III" employs the harmonically rich music of Bach as a springboard for abstract, solemn pieces that sound as haunted as they are dreamlike.

While the first half of Pale Bloom showcases Davachi's latent Romanticism, the sidelong "If It Pleased Me To Appear To You Wrapped In This Drapery" reveals the Mills College graduate's affinity for the work of avant-garde composers La Monte Young and Eliane Radigue. Softly vibrating strings rise and fall like complementary exhalations of breath. As the fluctuating pitches create overtones that pitter and pulse, the piece slowly and subtly evolves – suggesting a well-tempered stillness, yet without stasis.

Pale Bloom finds Sarah Davachi coming full circle. After abandoning the piano studies of her youth for a series of albums utilizing everything from pipe and reed organs to analog synthesizers, this prolific Los Angeles-based composer returns to her first instrument for a radiant work of quiet minimalism and poetic rumination.

Recorded at Berkeley, California's famed Fantasy Studios, Pale Bloom is comprised of two delicately-arranged sides. The first – a three-part suite where Davachi's piano acts as conjurer, beckoning Hammond organ and stirring countertenor into a patiently unfolding congress – recalls Eduard Artemiev's majestic soundtrack for Andrei Tarkovsky's Solaris. "Perfumes I-III" employs the harmonically rich music of Bach as a springboard for abstract, solemn pieces that sound as haunted as they are dreamlike.

While the first half of Pale Bloom showcases Davachi's latent Romanticism, the sidelong "If It Pleased Me To Appear To You Wrapped In This Drapery" reveals the Mills College graduate's affinity for the work of avant-garde composers La Monte Young and Eliane Radigue. Softly vibrating strings rise and fall like complementary exhalations of breath. As the fluctuating pitches create overtones that pitter and pulse, the piece slowly and subtly evolves – suggesting a well-tempered stillness, yet without stasis.

Two years ago, Ferdi Schuster was a young multi-instrumentalist and producer
daydreaming of releasing his music on Claremont 56, one of his favourite labels.
Now he’s set to release his stunning debut album, “All One”, on Paul Murphy’s
long-running imprint.
It’s been a long time between drinks for the German producer, who last graced
C56 with his superb double A-side single, “Little River/Befreit”, in the autumn of
2017. Fittingly, it’s “Little River” – a babbling brook of audio bliss rich in samba
influenced drums, soothing acoustic guitars and spacey synthesizer licks – that
kicks off “All One”, a seductive set in which every drumbeat, piano note, guitar
riff, synthesizer flourish and freside-warm bassline was played by the man
himself.
Throughout, it’s easy to see why Murphy decided to snap up Schuster and
push the producer to record a debut album. Check, for example, the dubbed
out shuffle of “Thinking of You”, where ghostly chords, soft-focus guitar solos
and ethereal vocals drift across the soundscape, and the slowly unfurling bliss
of “The Good Fight”, an effortlessly Balearic workout rich in sun-kissed guitars,
bubbly synth lines and chords so snugly they could probably be used as a
comfort blanket.
Schuster’s greatest strength is undoubtedly the evocative and enveloping nature
of his instrumental music, which draws on a variety of complimentary influences
but never sounds anything less than original and fresh. Some listeners may be
enchanted by the loose and languid pulse of “Fading Away” or the lo-f reggae
jazz of dusty closing cut “Night Talk”, though others may prefer the stoned funk
shuffle of “Interaction” or the spacey vibrations of “Pulsa”, where intergalactic
synthesizer lines wind their way around heady bass guitar and sparse, off-kilter
deep electro drums.
“All One” is that kind of set; an atmospheric and musically accomplished
collection of cuts capable of muting the mundane and distracting from the stress
of 21st century life. As debut albums go, it’s something of a stunner

sssIn January 2016 arts and music organisation Santuri East Africa invited guest producer Jan Schulte to join the Nile Project gathering in Aswan, Egypt - an intensive two week musical experiment featuring musicians drawn from all around the Nile Basin that functioned as both a creative cauldron for cross-border collaboration, and a forum for artists and cultural activists to discuss the issues affecting the Nile river.

Wolf Mu¨ller aka Jan Schulte has been a resident of Dusseldorf's era-defining Salon des Amateurs for many years, releasing wildly inventive and dance music under various monikers - from his birth name to Wolf Mu¨ller, Bufiman and his Young Wolf collaboration with Young Marco. Schulte's feel for off kilter sounds and rhythms and a playful approach to the sometimes po-faced world of dance music have resulted in some incredibly well received releases (Instrumental Musik Von Der Mitte Der World and the compilation Tropical Drums of Deutschland being prime examples).

Santuri East Africa is an organisation set up to connect musicians and producers from around the globe, a process of co-collaboration that has led to some highly well received releases on Soundway (Msafiri Zawose) Sofrito (Auntie Flo's Soniferous Garden) and On the Corner (Makadem and Mugwisa).

Clocking in at a shade over 15 minutes, A-side 'Mabomba Dance' gradually layers Kasiva Mutua's needle-sharp percussion over a deep analogue bass pulse, building into a hypnotic dancefloor workout.

The B-side sees erstwhile Owiny Sigoma Band collaborator Rapasa Nyatrapasa showcase his Nyatiti harp before delving into an almost Afrobeat-esque slice of afro-minimalism. The EP rounds off with Adel Mekha's stellar vocals over traditional Nubian percussion.

ZamZam 70 is our first team-up with the man of mystery known as Marcus Anbessa. An enigmatic figure whose identity must remain secret for the time being, his infrequent releases on labels such as Lion Charge, Tribe 12, and The Most High (as “Unknown Artist”) are eagerly awaited by those who know, charting an uncompromising vision down a path untrod by the weakheart or the follow-fashion. We love music that builds its own sound world with only passing reference to familiar genres or signposts, music that believes in itself utterly - for this reason we feel genuinely blessed to present these two sides.

“March of The Falasha” is pure roots music that, firmly planted in the soil of dub and sound system, reaches back even further into the mists of time through technological means. Downbeat steppers is the idiom, pure heartbeat is the pulse. Like an old soul young in years but full of wisdom, a distorted flute melody wanders ahead through the undergrowth of bass, light filtering through the ancient canopy above in the form of swung percussion and flickering echoes overlapping and intertwining like vines and creepers weaving on temple walls. Ancient-to-the-future.

“Creator” strikes a different yet equally dread chord, 140-ish post-apocalyptic Rasta business focused squarely on bass and space, hard, insistent drums and infinite echo trails flinging from the snares and percussion, creating hypnotic tracers like sparks swirling heavenward from a well-tended fire in blackest night.

Imagine African Headcharge on Jah Tubbys, or a rootsman groundation resuscitating ancient machines in the crumbling ruins of a near-future world and you begin to see what Marcus Anbessa brings. This music reminds us that nature herself will some day claim Babylon and grind it to dust, regardless of our efforts to save it or hasten its fall.

Warehouse Find!

Danish producer Paxton Fettel joins Delusions for his debut EP for the label entitled Night Waves. Despite his youth, he has notched up an enviable catalogue of original, eclectic releases including two LP's for Greta Cottage Workshop as well as EP's for Plumage, Kolour LTD and Apersonal. Paxton's unique sound and audiophile approach to production has led to remixes for Uffe on Tartelet, Chocky on Secret Reels and most recently Sunrom on edgling vinyl-only label The Bricks.

For his Night Waves EP we get a snapshot of the mans diversity across three original tracks. The opener sees Paxton in his most raw, jacking, dance oor focussed mood to date and the result is a high energy house track which punches hard on a big system. Featuring his own bass playing, snipped and squeezed through the sonic mangle, Night Waves steams along with big bold pianos, swinging hats and just the right amount of oating synths. Simple elements which combine to be so much more than the sum of its parts and one of those stand-out cuts that will be stuck in your head long after you've left the danceoor.

Flipping over we have Paxton going full-on jazz mode in Pacica 399 To Freedom. A track which once again has his beloved Sandberg California live bass part pushed to the fore, pianos, strings and synths building around the driving disco groove. Feel-good sunshine vibes oozing from the speakers as little melodies dance around the sizzling hi hats and encompassing pulse of the kick drum.

Finally we have a deeper note to close on with It's Clear. A repeating vocal hook runs throughout the intro while intricate drum programming gives a nod to the sounds of broken beat and live jazz sensibilities. The end result is a warm, loose and dubby jam which completes the package in ne style and leaves us looking forward to hearing more from this talented young producer from Copenhagen.

Véronique Sanson is one of the most famous French pop oriented female
singer, songwriter, and composer of the 80s. She began her career in the 70s,
and was the girlfriend of genius composer Michel Berger. Her world turnt
upside down when she met Stephen Stills of Crossby Stills & Nash. One Day,
during a recording session in Paris, she left the studio pretending to go buy
cigarettes, but never came back... She flew overnight to the USA, where she
married Stephen Stills. In LA, she records new music with superstar
composers such as Ray Parker JR and Harvey Mason. "On m'attend là-bas",
produced in 1974, was one of the single of the album Le Maudit.
Funky French League is an intergenerational collective (based in Paris)
formed by Young Pulse (Gamm) , Dabeull (Roche Musique), Arthur Chaps,
Woody Braun (Malka Family), Mr Willy, DJ Asko et Uncle T (Groove
Deluxe). All coming from different universe from hip-hop, to electronic music,
but united by their love for the groove and the funk.

As An Undisputed Heavyweight And One Of The Leading Figures Within The Electronic Music Scene, Icicle's Recognized As A Highly Respected Producer - Among Other Ventures Through Steaming Releases Via Hospital Records, Critical Music And Shogun Audio. Propelling His Technically Advanced Production Style Into The 140 Bpm Spectrum, It's A Sight To Behold As Dj Youngsta Reveals The Next Ace Up His Sleeve. The Uk-based Veteran Conveys His Awe-inspiring Take On Dubstep With Four Tracks On A Twelve-inch Platter - Vehemently Battle-tested As A Dubplate And Ready To Off At A Dance Floor Near You.

We Are Immersed In Dense, Granular Fog. 'raising The Dead' Begins The Ritual With Hypnotism And Anxious Unrest. Eerie Lead Melodies Lure Listeners Onwards As Relentless Percussion Takes Hold. Rigorously Increasing The Intensity With Mesmeric Style To The Ruthless Beat Of The Drums - Fragmented Vocals Flicker Through The Mist. As Ethereal Spheres Seem To Vacate, A Disturbed Melody Guides A Path Into The Low-frequency Behemoth That Is 'nt'. Driven By Its Intense Groove And Sonorous Sub-bass Emissions, The Erratic Lead Staccato Does The Rest To Keep Us Fiercely Bouncing To Icicle's Percussive Pulse.

As If It Could Get Any Hotter, We Flip To A Promising B-side Only To Be Proven Wrong Twice. Initiating The Ceremony With 'shout Me' - Haunting Female Choirs Entrance Amidst The Thunderous Sense Of Anticipation. Evolving From Intricate Breaks To Straight Shut-down Maneuvers Without Skipping A Beat. In A Final, Fulminant Outburst, 'noughties Riddim' Goes On To Wrap Up The Masterpiece In A Most Mischievous Fashion. Cutting Through The Noise, Profoundly Satisfying Mid-range Distortion Surges Flare Up In The Distance, While Continuous Pressure Continues To Evoke Cries For Rewinds.

Heavy-weather, beyond-good-and-evil soundsystem poetics, channelling raw and rootical techno, Isolationist abstraction, and dub at its most turbulent and raw-nerved and space-time-warping. New worlds ahead... Equal parts tuff, tail-thrashing dancehall pressure - see 'Hell Dub' - and art-of-darkness ambience and introspection, culminating in the slow-burning, third-eye-opening 23-minute dreamweapon, 'Vertigo'. Part of the Young Echo crew, Ossia embodies the best tradition of Bristol underground music in that he doesn't pay much mind to tradition, just does his own thing. Yes, Devil's Dance shares DNA with those sullen masterpieces we will always associate with the city, from blunted 90s street-soul/hip-hop to sub-loaded dubstep - but like his forebears Ossia is ultimately a mongrel breed, drawing from his own, very contemporary and idiosyncratic well of influences: grime, jazz, steppers, dub, post-punk and industrial abrasion, concrète minimalism... Devil's Dance could easily be not just a forbidding, but a suffocating proposition. But even at its most angst-ridden it feels lithe and aerodynamic, its darker impulses both intensified, and offset, by a pure soundboy's delight in detail and colour and higher dancefloor mechanics. The music pulses with energy, a fever to communicate...and Raki Singh (violin), Jasmine (vocals) and Ollie Moore (saxophone) add vivid flesh-tone to the punishing, plasmic electronics. The record was mixed at an infamous, subterranean Bristolian recording studio, using an arsenal of spring and plate reverbs, modded pedals, tape-delays and compressors: systems of black magic crucial to the album's intense presence and physicality and carefully modulated dread. In the end what we are witnessing, and experiencing vicariously, is a purging, an exorcism: find the devil, dance with the devil... and then chase, chase, chase him out of the earth