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Camelot, the legendary seat of King Arthur's court in Early Middle Ages Britain, was probably not a real place. A corruption of the name of a real Romano-Briton city, the word "Camelot" accumulated symbolic, mythic resonances over centuries, until achieving its present usage as a near-synonym of "utopia." In the mid-20th century alone, Camelot inspired an explosion of representations and appropriations, among them the violent, affectless Arthurian court of Robert Bresson's 1974 film Lancelot du Lac and the absurdist iteration of Monty Python's 1975 Holy Grail, both of which feature armored knights erupting into fountains of blood; the mystical Welsh world of novelist John Cowper Powys's profoundly weird 1951 novel Porius, with its Roman cults, wizards and witches, and wanton giants; and the nationalist nostalgia of President John F. Kennedy's White House. Unsurprisingly there are fewer Camelots in more recent memory. Camelot, Canadian songwriter Jennifer Castle's extraordinary, moving 2024 chronicle of the artist in early middle age, charts a realer, more rooted, and more metaphorical place than the fabled Camelot of the Early Middle Ages (or its myriad depictions), but it too is a space more psychic than physical. In Castle's Camelot, the fantastic interpenetrates the mundane, and the Grail, if there is one, distills everyday experience into art and art into faith, subliming terrestrial concerns into sublime celestial prayers to Mother Nature, and to the unfolding process of perfecting imperfection in one's own nature. Co-produced by Jennifer and longtime collaborator Jeff McMurrich, her seventh record is at once her most monumental and unguarded to date, demonstrating a mastery of rendering her verse and melodies alike with crisply poignant economy. For all their pointedly plainspoken lyrical detail and exhilarating full-band musical flourishes, these songs sound inevitable, eternal as morning devotions. "Back in Camelot," she sings on the lilting, vulnerable title track, "I really learned a lot / circles in the crops and / sky-high geometry." The album opens with a candid admission of sleeping "in the unfinished basement," an embarrassing joke that comes true. But the dreamer is redeemed by dreaming, setting sail in her airborne bed above "sirens and desert deities." If she questions her own agency_whether she is "wishing stones were standing" or just "pissing in the wind"_it does not diminish the ineffable existential jolt of such signs and wonders. This abiding tension between belief and doubt, magic and pragmatism, self and other, sacred and profane, and even, arguably, paganism and monotheism, suffuses these ten songs, which limn an interior landscape shot through with sunstriped shadows of "multi-felt dimensions" both mystical and quotidian. The epic scale and transport of "Camelot," with its swooning strings, gives way dramatically to "Some Friends," an acoustic-guitar-and-vocals meditation in miniature on Janus-faced friends and the lunar and solar temperatures of their promises_"bright and beaming verses" versus hot curses_which recalls her minimalist last album, 2020's achingly intimate Monarch Season. (In a symmetrical sequencing gesture, the penultimate track, the incantatory "Earthsong," bookends the central six with a similarly spare solo performance and coiled chord progression, this time an ambiguous appeal to _ a wounded lover? a wounded saint? our wounded planet?) Those whom "Trust" accuses of treacherous oaths spit through "gilded and golden tooth"_cynics, critics, hypocrites, gurus, scientists, doctors, lovers, government, the so-called entertainment industry_sow uncertainty that can infect the artist, as in "Louis": "What's that dance / and can it be done? What's that song / and can it be sung?" Answering affirmatively are "Lucky #8," an irrepressible ode to dancing as a bulwark against the "tidal pools of pain" and the "theory of collapse," and "Full Moon in Leo," which finds the narrator dancing around the house with a broom, wearing nothing but her underwear and "big hair." But the central question remains: who can we trust, and at what cost faith, in art or angels or otherwise? Castle's confidence in her collaborators is the cornerstone of Camelot. Carl Didur (piano and keys), Evan Cartwright (drums and percussion), and steadfast sideman Mike Smith (bass) comprise a rhythm section of exquisite delicacy and depth. This fundamental trio anchors the airiness of regular backing vocalists Victoria Cheong and Isla Craig and frames the guitars of Castle, McMurrich, and Paul Mortimer (and on "Lucky #8," special guest Cass McCombs). Reprising his decennial role on Castle's beloved 2014 Pink City, Owen Pallett arranged the strings for Estonia's FAMES Skopje Studio Orchestra. On the ravishing country-soul ballad "Blowing Kisses"_Pallett's crowning achievement here, which can be heard in its entirety in the penultimate episode of the third season of FX's The Bear_Jennifer contemplates time and presence, love and prayer_and how songwriting and poetry both manifest and limit all four dimensions: "No words to fumble with / I'm not a beggar to language any longer." Such rare moments of speechlessness_"I'm so fucking honoured," she bluntly proclaims_suggest a state "only a god could come up with." (If Camelot affirms Castle as one of the great song-poets of her generation, she is not immune to the despairing linguistic beggary that plagues all writers.) Camelot evinces a thoroughgoing faith not only in the natural world_including human bodies, which can, miraculously, dance and swim and bleed and embrace and birth_but also in our interpretations of and interventions in it: the "charts and diagrams" of "Lucky #8," a daydreamt billboard on Fairfax Ave. in LA in "Full Moon in Leo," the bloody invocations of the organ-stained "Mary Miracle," and all manner of water worship, rivers in particular. (Notably, Jennifer has worked as a farmer and a doula.) The album ends with "Fractal Canyon"'s repeated, exalted insistence that she's "not alone here." But where is here? The word "utopia" itself constitutes a pun, indicating in its ambiguous first syllable both the Greek "eutopia," or "good-place"_the facet most remembered today_and "outopia," or "no-place," a negative, impossible geography of the mind. Utopia, like its metonym Camelot, is imaginary. Or as fellow Canadian songwriter Neil Young once sang, "Everyone knows this is nowhere." "Can you see how I'd be tempted," Castle asks out of nowhere, held in the mystery, "to pretend I'm not alone and let the memory bend?"

Transparent Blue Vinyl. After years of preparation, Marcus Drake emerges from the basement networks of the resistance underground to claim the first save point along his quest ahead. Welcome to Save Point 1, a universe where popular forms of the past collide at warp speed with Marcus's mutant inspirations to produce sounds and genres hitherto unknown. Save Point 1 is a visionary and singular Debut work of Avant Rock & Pop Alchemy, blown apart and reassembled under the laws of Quantum Musical Mechanics. Written, Produced & Performed by Marcus Drake, the album eludes classification, but sounds like a sci-fi fusion of musical DNA from Nine Inch Nails, Prefab Sprout, Nobuo Uematsu (the Final Fantasy video game composer), Animal Collective, Prince, Mr. Bungle, Liars, The Mars Volta, and Lil Ugly Mane. The album marks the first release under Drake's own name, and the latest since his 2017 release as Anthony Fremont's Garden Solutions_his idiosyncratic side-project with Water From Your Eyes' Nate Amos, Options' Seth Engel, and NNAMDI. He has also since scored for film and video, including the Adult Swim short Thoron the Conqueror. Save Point 1 isn't just a new beginning, but a reintroduction to Marcus Drake the artist and composer. Drake experimented with new techniques and approaches for many years while recording Save Point 1, a process that transformed his sound, voice, and artistic identity. The resulting oeuvre is giddy and dreamy, an Olympic-height diving board from which to descend through indie rock and videogame soundtracks, thrilling math-rock riffs that turn experimental, and synths that glow in rainbow hues. Just turn to the glitchpop of "Heaven's in the Rot" or the slow-motion acoustic glitter that is "Dragon It Out" to hear it in motion. And note the two-part "Haunted" suite that funnels his unpredictable experimentation into darker, weirder directions.

Anadol and Marie Klock have teamed up for a joint album, La Grande Accumulation. They met two years ago at a festival in England crowded with violent seagulls and outsider musicians. Klock being prone to barking on stage and Anadol not laughing at jokes she doesn’t find funny, they straight away had the intuition that they would meet again. And so they did, a few months later, at Anadol’s studio in Istanbul.

Today, the two Pingipung artists present the fruit of this musical friendship. La Grande Accumulation was born out of the peculiar atmosphere of the studio neighbourhood in Büyükada, an island where thousands of cats run free and humans randomly destroy things during apocalyptic times when parts of Turkey had just been turned into dust by terrible earthquakes. The French lyrics are inspired by hours of conversations, the music is consequently drenched in absurdity, overflowing with a strong urge to live and enjoy. According to the LP sticker, this album has been certified “Best handshake of 2024”, and stickers never lie.

La Grande Accumulation brings together Marie Klock's mysterious metaphors and Anadol's intriguing radiophonic psych-pop. Stretching forms beyond common sense to see how long they can resist is probably their favourite game. The result are six highly imaginative tracks that challenge the sub-3-minutes standards of Spotify pop.

Gözen Atila aka Anadol is well known to the Pingipung audience, with three solo LPs on the label. Her music follows a kind of collage logic, she interweaves countless styles, combining field and studio recordings with obscure quotation marks here and there. "I hope no one will come and explain this music to me, because it's the most beautiful music there is", says Kristoffer Cornils about her solo album Felicita.

Marie Klock is a French writer and musician who produces songs oscillating between synthpop and neo-folk, full of anarchic humour and existential dread. Her recent solo LP on Pingipung was a captivating tribute to the recently deceased poet Damien Schultz entitled Damien est vivant.

Marie Klock delivers her lyrics in song or spoken word, stream-of-consciousness musings on strange human adventures, and her rich keyboard melodies culminate in a nonchalant dialogue with the bass trombone (La Reine des Bordels). In the opulent opening piece (La Grande Accumulation), a woman is cursed to take home everything she kicks in the street; a bit later, we stumble upon a ghoul hiding in the gutter (Sirop amer), Mona Lisa loses her teeth (Sonate au Jambon) and a warthog struggles to climb the stairs of a silver tower (Sabots triviaux).

La Grande Accumulation was mixed and mastered by Jonas Romann at Chaos Compressor Club in Hamburg and cut to vinyl by Kassian Troyer at D&M in Berlin. It's an audiophile LP that invites to focus on every detail in this heap of musical ideas.

Michael Mayer albums don’t come round too often, which is one of many reasons why his fourth collection, The Floor Is Lava, is a genuine event. It’s been eight years since his last one, the collaborative & released on !K7; its predecessors, Mantasy (2012) and Touch (2004), took their sweet time, too. It’s no real surprise, given the many hats Mayer wears – globetrotting DJ, revered remixer, inveterate collaborator, and boss of both Kompakt and Imara – that his solo productions are relatively sparing. But this also speaks to their quality: Mayer’s name on a record sleeve is a sign of quality, of music that’s both looking to the future and calling back to the past, that balances the imperatives of the dancefloor and the loungeroom, that’s as exploratory as it is functional.

On The Floor Is Lava, Mayer seems to be taking the temperature of both the music that surrounds him (past and present), and the ides of the industry he works within. There’s that iconic album title, for a start. “The album’s mindset,” he says, reflecting on those four words together. For Mayer, it’s partly a critique of the way the industry boxes in both producer and listener, focuses them on genre, on market, on the next new thing: “Being a free minded spirit that transcends genres has become an uphill battle.” A battle worth fighting, though, and with The Floor Is Lava, the result is an album that’s varied, quixotic, idiosyncratic, charming, and deeply, addictively listenable.

Throughout, Mayer finds thrills in exploration and juxtaposition, allowing unexpected things to blossom and giving them their life, their platform, throwing the listener exciting curveballs: “It’s a DJ album by a DJ that’s easily bored.” Either easily bored, or endlessly curious, The Floor Is Lava is rich with ideas. It opens with “The Problem”, which looks back to look forward, embracing the rickety way early house productions threw samples together with gleeful abandon. Mayer mentions Pal Joey, and the scene around Rockers Hi-Fi and their Different Drummer imprint, as reference points, and you can hear that freewheeling spirit throughout.

It’s followed by “Vagus”, a slinky, sensual minimal house number that Mayer describes as his “musical catnip”. The flow of these two opening cuts defines the dynamic of The Floor Is Lava, defining the dialectical drive at its core: thesis and antithesis leads to synthesis, but with a welcome prickliness that means you’re always excited, always engaged. It’s also productive in the way it derives energy from rubbing genres and sounds against each other, in unexpected ways, for maximum musical frisson. There’s psychedelic techno on “Feuerstuhl”, more minimal techno with “Ardor” (Mayer mentions ‘Immer 1’ era 90s minimal as inspiration), slippery, Shepard-tone breakbeat through “Sycophant”, a lovely, lush vocal turn on the poppy “The Solution”.

The album closes with the melancholy “Süßer Schlaf”, where Mayer sets a poem by Goethe to one of his most haunted, moving pieces of music yet, in abstract tribute to a lost friend. It’s one of the most affecting moments on The Floor Is Lava. There’s also an update on 2020’s wild Brainwave Technology EP, with the surrealist glitter-stomp of “Brainwave 2.0” (check out those handclaps!),where Mayer’s thinking about the socio-political precipice of the now: “I’m reading with great interest about this whole complex of how humanity is about to cross so many lines and the implications that the resulting financial and educational inequality will bring.”

That’s The Floor Is Lava: then and now, brainwaves and nerve structures, problems and solutions, genres on fire; the real, the unreal, and the surreal. An album for the easily bored and the endlessly curious. Mayer has the last word, telling us all you need to know about the album’s spirit: “Burning for the cause, being zealous, being addicted to the heat of the night, the exuberant powers of music.”

Michael Mayer veröffentlicht nicht oft Alben, was einer von vielen Gründen ist, warum ‘The Floor Is Lava’ ein echtes Ereignis ist. Es sind acht Jahre vergangen seit seinem letzten Werk, dem Kollaborationsalbum &, das auf !K7 erschien; seine Vorgänger, Mantasy (2012) und Touch (2004), ließen ebenfalls auf sich warten. Es überrascht nicht wirklich, da Mayer viele Rollen gleichzeitig erfüllt – weltreisender DJ, vielbeschäftigter Remixer, unermüdlicher Kollaborateur und Chef von sowohl Kompakt als auch Imara – weshalb seine Solo-Produktionen eher sparsam ausfallen. Doch das spricht auch für deren Qualität: Ein Album mit Mayers Namen auf dem Cover steht für Qualität, für Musik, die sowohl in die Zukunft blickt als auch auf die Vergangenheit verweist, die das Gleichgewicht zwischen den Anforderungen des Dancefloors und des Wohnzimmers hält, die genauso erforschend wie funktional ist.

Auf The Floor Is Lava scheint Mayer sowohl die Musik um ihn herum (vergangen und gegenwärtig) als auch die Strömungen der Branche, in der er arbeitet, zu reflektieren. Da wäre zunächst der ikonische Albumtitel. „Die Grundhaltung des Albums“, sagt er, drückt sich in diesen vier Worte aus. Für Mayer ist es teilweise eine Kritik daran, wie die Industrie sowohl Produzenten als auch Hörer in Schubladen steckt, sie auf Genres, auf den Markt und auf das nächste große Ding fokussiert: „Ein freier Geist zu sein, der Genres überschreitet, ist zu einem steinigen Weg geworden.“ Ein Kampf, der sich jedoch lohnt, und mit The Floor Is Lava ist das Ergebnis ein Album, das vielfältig, eigenwillig, charmant und tiefsinnig, aber auch süchtig machend ist.

Im gesamten Album findet Mayer Freude an der Erforschung und Gegenüberstellung von Stilen, lässt unerwartete Dinge erblühen und gibt ihnen Raum, überrascht den Hörer mit spannenden Wendungen: „Es ist ein DJ-Album von einem DJ, der sich schnell langweilt.“ Entweder langweilt er sich schnell oder er ist unendlich neugierig – The Floor Is Lava ist reich an Ideen. Es beginnt mit „The Problem“, das in die Vergangenheit blickt, um nach vorne zu schauen, und die wilde Art, wie frühe House-Produktionen Samples mit fröhlicher Unbekümmertheit zusammenwarfen, aufgreift. Mayer nennt Pal Joey und die Szene um Rockers Hi-Fi und ihr Label Different Drummer als Referenzpunkte, und dieser freie Geist zieht sich durch das gesamte Album.

Es folgt „Vagus“, eine sinnliche Minimal-House-Nummer, die Mayer als seine „musikalische Katzenminze“ beschreibt. Der Fluss dieser beiden Eröffnungstracks definiert die Dynamik von The Floor Is Lava und den dialektischen Antrieb im Kern: These und Antithese führen zu einer Synthese, jedoch mit einer willkommenen Schärfe, die dafür sorgt, dass man immer aufgeregt und engagiert bleibt. Zudem gewinnt das Album Energie, indem es Genres und Klänge auf unerwartete Weise aneinanderreibt, um maximalen musikalischen Nervenkitzel zu erzeugen. Es gibt psychedelischen Techno in „Feuerstuhl“, mehr Minimal Techno mit „Ardor“ (Mayer erwähnt ‘Immer’ Ära Minimal als Bezugspunkt), gleitenden Shepard-Ton-Breakbeat in „Sycophant“ und einen lieblichen, üppigen Vocal-Auftritt im poppigen „The Solution“.

Das Album schließt mit dem melancholischen „Süßer Schlaf“, in dem Mayer ein Gedicht von Goethe vertont und eine seiner bisher eindringlichsten und bewegendsten musikalischen Kompositionen schafft, als abstrakten Tribut an eine verschiedene Freundin. Es ist einer der ergreifendsten Momente auf The Floor Is Lava. Ebenfalls gibt es ein Update der wilden Brainwave Technology-EP von 2020, mit dem surrealistischen Glitzer-Stampfer „Brainwave 2.0“ (hör dir diese Handclaps an!), in dem Mayer über den sozio-politischen Abgrund der Gegenwart nachdenkt: „Ich lese mit großem Interesse über diesen ganzen Komplex, wie die Menschheit dabei ist, so viele Grenzen zu überschreiten und welche Auswirkungen die daraus resultierende finanzielle und bildungstechnische Ungleichheit haben wird.“

Das ist The Floor Is Lava: Damals und heute, Gehirnwellen und Nervengeflechte, Probleme und Lösungen, brennende Genres; das Reale, das Unreale und das Surreale. Ein Album für die schnell Gelangweilten und die unendlich Neugierigen. Mayer hat das letzte Wort und sagt uns alles, was wir über den Geist des Albums wissen müssen: „Brennen für die Sache, leidenschaftlich sein, süchtig nach der Hitze der Nacht, den überschwänglichen Kräften der Musik.“

Nachdem er 2022 "The Consistent Brutal Bullshit Gong" schrieb, hat sich Nate Mendelsohn immer mehr in seiner Musikgemeinde in Brooklyn, NY, verwurzelt. Er produzierte die letzten FRANKIE COSMOS- und DOUGIE POOLE-Alben, trat bei VAGABON und SAM EVIAN auf und machte Aufnahmen mit YAEJI und LADY LAMB. Diese Erfahrungen mit abenteuerlichen Künstler*innen sind in Mendelsohns Songwriting eingeflossen und haben, zusätzlich zu seinen frühen Jahren in der Jazz- und Avantgarde-Welt, ein Album hervorgebracht, das so manchem wahrscheinlich den Kopf verdrehen wird, wenn man Alben namens "Pet Sounds", "Fantasma", "Insignificance", "Blonde" oder "XO" mag. Wie auf einigen der genannten Alben verschmilzt auch auf "Well I Asked You A Question" das Physische mit dem Synthetischen: gesampelte Orchester duellieren sich mit echten Orchestern ("Fantasy"), die gesprochenen Worte eines Roboters duettieren sich mit einem menschlichen Chor ("Around"), und Geräuschexplosionen üben sich in Soli über traditionelle Rockinstrumente ("Rachel's Getting Married"). Obwohl viele der Sounds auf dem Album erweitert und gebrochen sind, arbeitete Mendelsohn mit der vollen MARKET-Band - Stephen Becker, Natasha Bergman und Duncan Standish - zusammen, um die Songs zu entwickeln. Er wollte "musikalische Unfälle mit ausgefransten Rändern - immer noch eine Gruppe von Leuten, die in einem Raum sind und Songs spielen". Neben der Kernband leisteten Katie von Schleicher, Mike Haldeman (MOSES SUMNEY, ALTO PALO), Justin Felton (L'RAIN, BIG THIEF), Rose Droll (FEIST, ART FEYNMAN) und Helen Newby mit der Technik von Adam Hirsch (Sam Amidon, Stephen Steinbrink) weltumspannende Beiträge.

Feiern Sie die Weihnachtszeit mit der beliebten Weihnachtssammlung von Sufjan Stevens, ,Silver & Gold: Songs for Christmas, Vols. 6-10", die jetzt zum ersten Mal seit ihrer ursprünglichen Veröffentlichung 2012 wieder auf Vinyl im Handel erhältlich ist. Dieses umfangreiche Set enthält fast drei Stunden festliche Musik, darunter 18 Eigenkompositionen und kreative Interpretationen von Weihnachtsklassikern. Die 6-LP-Kollektion (vier Einzel-LPs und eine Doppel-LP) im Schuber zeigt Stevens' einzigartige Herangehensweise an Weihnachtsmusik, die Folk, Indie-Rock und experimentelle Klänge miteinander verbindet. Von intimen Weihnachtsliedern bis hin zu ausgedehnten Orchesterarrangements zeigt ,Silver & Gold" Stevens' künstlerische Vielseitigkeit und seinen kollaborativen Geist, was es zu einer unverzichtbaren Ergänzung jeder Weihnachtsmusiksammlung macht.

Robert Glasper’s holiday album In December was released last year as an Apple Music exclusive. We’re now able offer it widely available to physical retail and all DSPs!



Is there anything to be done with carols like “God Rest Ye Merry Gentlemen” and “Joy to the World” that hasn’t been done in the past 300 years? If there is, Grammy-winning pianist, composer, and producer Robert Glasper is the kind of artist to do it. “I like covering songs that people know well,” Glasper tells Apple Music. “That’s what I’ve done throughout my whole career.” It’s true: As a jazz pianist, he’s obviously learned his way around making classics his own, whether they were written by Mongo Santamaría or Kurt Cobain. But, he says, “The biggest challenge in making a holiday album was trying to do it in a way that feels festive but at the same time feels real and not corny.”



He succeeds on both fronts on In December, his holiday album that mixes classic carols with a set of originals, and which was recorded in Spatial Audio. Part of what keeps it credible is the fact that Glasper’s hiphop/R&B/jazz fusion is done on a compositional level instead of just a cosmetic one (no collages of sampled sax solos and drum loops here). The covers reveal a lot about his musical worldview: Sung by Tony winner Cynthia Erivo (The Color Purple), “God Rest Ye Merry Gentlemen” is turned into dark, airy neo-soul, while “Joy to the World”—sung by Alex Isley—feels like a Stevie Wonder ballad. But the originals reveal even more. “The intention for this album was less about Christmas songs and more about songs that feel good during the holidays,” Glasper says. “I stayed away from thinking too much about Christmas and its traditional lingo, and concentrated on real things people go through during the holiday season.”

RE-PRESSED ON TRANSPARENT RED VINYL This double live outing from Herbie Hancock was recorded in Tokyo in July of 1975. Backed up by The Headhunters, Hancock runs through selections from his albums Head Hunters, Thrust and Man-Child – that last project still being months away from release at the time of this recording. Get On Down’s reissue of the vinyl will be the first US release for the double LP, ever.

Wer die turbulente Karriere von Blake Judd und seiner bahnbrechenden Band verfolgt hat, dürfte von harschem Gegenwind kaum überrascht sein. Davon unbeirrt legen NACHTMYSTIUM mit ihrem neunten Studioalbum "Blight Privilege" erneut ein Meisterwerk vor. "Blight Privilege" kann es sogar mit der großen Trilogie von Alben aufnehmen, die Kritiker und Anhänger der amerikanischen Black Metal (USBM) Vorreiter nach wie vor als den Höhepunkt der frühen Karriere betrachten: "Instinct: Decay" (2006), "Assassins: Black Meddle Pt. I" (2008), und "Addicts: Black Meddle Pt. II" (2010). Wie ein infernalischer Scharfschütze trifft jeder Song auf "Blight Privilege" voll ins Schwarze. Die ersehnten und unentbehrlichen finsteren Elemente sind vollzählig vorhanden: Kehlig-raue Gesänge, das aggressive Surren der Gitarren, die in einem eiskalten Feuer brennen, und jene Momente ebenso ekstatischer wie erhabener Schönheit in den ansonsten höllischen Klangwelten. Doch auch jene feinen, aber großartigen Details, die der musikalisch äußerst versierte Judd stets geschickt in seinen schwarzen Klanggewittern versteckt hat, wie etwa Elemente aus Post-Punk und Wave finden sich auf "Blight Privilege". Sogar eine Messerspitze Outlaw Country ist neu hinzugekommen. Auch wenn "Blight Privilege" an die glorreichen Zeiten von NACHTMYSTIUM anknüpft - ist es dennoch kein Schwelgen in Nostalgie, sondern eine zukunftsweisende Fortsetzung und die nächste musikalische Evolutionsstufe der Band. Dieses neunte Album des Amerikaners ist von einer Reife geprägt, die aus harten Erfahrungen und einem brutalen Lernprozess resultiert. Judds ebenso charakteristische wie diabolisch eingängige Melodien sind scharfkantiger als je zuvor und haben nichts von ihrem Biss verloren. Das mag auch damit zu tun haben, dass es das erste Album der USBM-Speerspitze ist, das von Judd in einem rauschfreien Zustand komponiert wurde. "Blight Privilege" ist eine Kampfansage, mit der NACHTMYSTIUM den USBM-Thron vehement einfordern. Dieses Album hat wieder die musikalische Kraft und lyrische Kühnheit, um diesem Anspruch gerecht zu werden. Liebt oder hasst das Album, aber NACHTMYSTIUM errichten mit "Blight Privilege" zweifellos einen massiven Meilenstein!

Wer die turbulente Karriere von Blake Judd und seiner bahnbrechenden Band verfolgt hat, dürfte von harschem Gegenwind kaum überrascht sein. Davon unbeirrt legen NACHTMYSTIUM mit ihrem neunten Studioalbum "Blight Privilege" erneut ein Meisterwerk vor. "Blight Privilege" kann es sogar mit der großen Trilogie von Alben aufnehmen, die Kritiker und Anhänger der amerikanischen Black Metal (USBM) Vorreiter nach wie vor als den Höhepunkt der frühen Karriere betrachten: "Instinct: Decay" (2006), "Assassins: Black Meddle Pt. I" (2008), und "Addicts: Black Meddle Pt. II" (2010). Wie ein infernalischer Scharfschütze trifft jeder Song auf "Blight Privilege" voll ins Schwarze. Die ersehnten und unentbehrlichen finsteren Elemente sind vollzählig vorhanden: Kehlig-raue Gesänge, das aggressive Surren der Gitarren, die in einem eiskalten Feuer brennen, und jene Momente ebenso ekstatischer wie erhabener Schönheit in den ansonsten höllischen Klangwelten. Doch auch jene feinen, aber großartigen Details, die der musikalisch äußerst versierte Judd stets geschickt in seinen schwarzen Klanggewittern versteckt hat, wie etwa Elemente aus Post-Punk und Wave finden sich auf "Blight Privilege". Sogar eine Messerspitze Outlaw Country ist neu hinzugekommen. Auch wenn "Blight Privilege" an die glorreichen Zeiten von NACHTMYSTIUM anknüpft - ist es dennoch kein Schwelgen in Nostalgie, sondern eine zukunftsweisende Fortsetzung und die nächste musikalische Evolutionsstufe der Band. Dieses neunte Album des Amerikaners ist von einer Reife geprägt, die aus harten Erfahrungen und einem brutalen Lernprozess resultiert. Judds ebenso charakteristische wie diabolisch eingängige Melodien sind scharfkantiger als je zuvor und haben nichts von ihrem Biss verloren. Das mag auch damit zu tun haben, dass es das erste Album der USBM-Speerspitze ist, das von Judd in einem rauschfreien Zustand komponiert wurde. "Blight Privilege" ist eine Kampfansage, mit der NACHTMYSTIUM den USBM-Thron vehement einfordern. Dieses Album hat wieder die musikalische Kraft und lyrische Kühnheit, um diesem Anspruch gerecht zu werden. Liebt oder hasst das Album, aber NACHTMYSTIUM errichten mit "Blight Privilege" zweifellos einen massiven Meilenstein!

The 2015 edition of Winnipeg’s send + receive festival, focussed on rhythm, turned out to be a generative meeting of minds. There, Mark Fell encountered the music of Will Guthrie, a meeting that was eventually to result in the frenetic acoustic drumkit and digital synthesis pairing heard on Infoldings and Diffractions (2020). At the same festival, Limpe Fuchs first heard and appreciated the music of Mark Fell, planting the seed of a collaboration that came to fruition when Fell (along with his son Rian Treanor) visited Fuchs at her home in Peterskirchen, Germany in September 2022. Black Truffle is pleased to announce the release of the results of this extensive session in the audacious form of a triple LP, housing over two hours of music across its six sides. The collaboration might appear unlikely: what common ground could exist between Fuchs, classically trained pianist, legend of improvised music, instrument builder and sound sculptor active since the 1960s, whose group Anima Sound connected the dots between free jazz, krautrock and ritual, and Fell, proponent of radical computer music, known for his bracingly austere productions that twist remnants of club music into algorithmic stutters? For all their seeming disparity in technology, approach and background, the music on Dessogia/Queetch/Fauch makes it immediately evident the pair share a great deal in their essentially percussive approach and ability to, in Fuch’s phrase, ‘establish silence’. Recording at her home studio, Fuchs had the use of her entire array of instruments, found, invented, and traditional, and treats the listener to some that don’t often make their way to concerts, including extensive passages performed (with Gundis Stalleicher) on pieces of wooden parquetry. Alongside metallic, wooden and skin percussion of all kinds, sounded and struck in every conceivable way, we also hear bamboo flute, viola, and Fuchs’ distinctive free-form vocalisations. Fell also stretched himself, with his contributions ranging from characteristically fizzing pitched percussive pops to swarms of sliding tones and abstract digital noise. Showing both remarkable restraint and improvisational freedom, much of the music consists of duets between a single percussion instrument and a distinctive mode of digital sound, often lingering in one timbral-rhythmic space for minutes at a time. Improvisational forward momentum coexists with a free-floating, wandering quality. On opener ‘Dessogia I’, the shimmering almost-gilssandi tones of Fuchs’ enormous set of microtonally tuned metal tubes ripples across Fell’s rubbery pulse, which moves up the frequency spectrum as Fuchs becomes more animated and switches to horn. At some points, as on the metallic chiming tones that open ‘Fauch I’, only the unexpected dynamic behaviour of Fell’s sounds distinguish them from Fuchs’ acoustic instruments. At others, like on ‘Queetch III’, the waves of sliding tones and noise textures are bracingly synthetic, joined by piercing squeaks and scrapes from Fuchs’ metal objects. Epic in scope, immersing the listener in an entirely distinctive world of sounds, and thrillingly bold in its melding of the most ancient musical procedures with cutting edge technologies, Dessogia/Queetch/Fauch is an unexpected major statement from two of the great mavericks of contemporary music.

With his Premise EP, Felix Fleer unites long-held ideas into a cohesive and deeply personal collection, offering a unique blend of intricate textures and fragile harmonies that reward attentive listeners with its meticulous attention to detail. The title track “Premise“ opens the A- side with an infectious garage groove and Fleer’s signature brand of detuned vintage polysynths, building up to a bright crescendo that reveals a rhythmically captivating vocal hook. “Know U” features a piercing drum groove, occasionally interrupted by abstract Buchla glitches and a reduced RnB vocal chop paired with ethereal, almost organ-like layers of pads to culminate in a stripped-down moment for the bass line to take center stage. The main theme of “Thinkage” is a classic break paired with a layered pattern of abstract, percussive vocal chops. This rhythmic pulse is accompanied by a wild harmony of constantly warping and evolving pads and drawn-out bass sounds. Opening the B-side, “Real Love” is the darkest tune on the EP. Its unstable chords and intricate, unpredictable textures induce a constant sense of unease, held together by a subtle techno groove. “Rush” contrasts this with a euphoric chord progression reminiscent of early post-dubstep anthems. The EP closes with “Drift,” a final climax that revisits previous themes, offering a powerful and uplifting resolution.

Techno House Connoisseurs are back with a proper VA full of acid and tech house delights for the heads. This EP has 5 dance floor whoppers for even the most discerning ear. Starting things off on the A side is Los Angeles duo Warehouse Preservation Society with a chunky bass heavy breakbeat-ish slammer called Fugitive Funk. Hypnotic west coast music at its finest. THC is stoked to welcome Londons Flash Mitra to the label. Flash's debut track is a psychedelic acid house gem perfect for those looking for something moody, dreamy and percussive. This jam will be welcomed on dance floors worldwide. Flip to the B side with THC stalwart Praus unleashing another low slung acid chugger. Magnetism creeps along working its way into your psyche with its warped and unusual vocal snippets and percussive rhythms topped with a healthy dose of 303. Big room cosmica muziks! Track 2 on the B finds label head Space Ace and Seattle's Sherman C of Selector records together bringing to light a buried acid monster titled Just a dream. Crisp percussion underlies a burly acid baseline with more 303 with a breakdown that will bring the floor to a peak. Not for the faint of heart. Lastly Warehouse Preservation rounds out the VA with a filthy dub of Fugitive Funk with a bass line that will rumble the floor and percussion that is so satisfying you will be looping it throughout your set. Bells, congas and claps all reverberating and panning for that head candy you won't be able to get out of your head.

Duke Pearson’s great 1964 album Wahoo! was a perfect encapsulation of his talents as a pianist, composer and bandleader. Writing for a sextet featuring Donald Byrd on trumpet, James Spaulding on alto, Joe Henderson on tenor, Bob Cranshaw on bass, and Mickey Roker on drums, Pearson presents evocative originals including ‘Amanda’, ‘Bedouin’, and ‘ESP’. This Blue Note Classic Vinyl Edition is stereo, all-analog, mastered by Kevin Gray from the original master tapes, and pressed on 180g vinyl at Optimal.

Paul Kelly"s latest album, "Fever Longing Still", his first of new original material since 2018"s "Nature", delivers 12 additions to his superb catalogue of love songs spanning more than 40 years. "Hello Melancholy, Hello Joy", as one of the new songs says. The album"s title comes from a line in Sonnet 147 by Shakespeare, whose writing has thrilled and inspired Kelly ever since schooldays. With love as the topic, Kelly finds a way to keep replenishing the creative well. Even if it can take some time for a song to surface.

"Five years since her debut album Delivery, Mikaela Davis has moved away from her hometown of Rochester, shared the stage with the likes of Bob Weir, Phil Lesh, Christian McBride, Bon Iver, Lake Street Dive and Circles Around the Sun and entered a new decade. But it’s the ever-evolving relationships between her closest friends and bandmates that has propelled the Hudson Valley-based artist onto her latest album And Southern Star––a truly collaborative effort that ruminates on the choices we make, and the people we always come back to.

The band, made up of Davis (harp/vocals), Alex Coté (drums), Cian McCarthy (guitars/vocals), Shane McCarthy (bass/vocals) and Kurt Johnson (steel guitar), have been playing together for over a decade and it’s the first time they’ve appeared on a full length record together. Weaving 60s pop-soaked melodies, psychedelia and driving folk rock, And Southern Star picks apart the reflection we used to recognise, while trying to build a new one. It navigates the periphery of past selves, the coexistence of isolation and excitement in a new environment and the tension of growing away from what we thought we wanted, tackling it with a luscious, kaleidoscopic grace. “I finally feel like this album is more me than anything else that’s been released,” Davis says, adding that producing the album along with her four bandmates allowed them to carve out their own ideas, rather than someone else’s. It’s the band’s collective step into adulthood that has informed much of And Southern Star’s thematic landscape."

SYML—Welsh for “simple”—makes music that taps into the instincts that drive us to places of sanctuary, whether that be a place or a person. Born and raised in Seattle, Brian Fennell studied piano and became a self-taught producer, programmer, and guitarist. This May marked the fifth anniversary of his self-titled debut album, which included the platinum-selling song “Where’s My Love” and the Gold Record fan favorite, “Girl,” and one year since his sophomore album, The Day My Father Died, which was recorded and produced with fellow Seattle-native Phil Ek (Band of Horses, Father John Misty, Fleet Foxes) and features Elbow’s Guy Garvey, Lucius, Sara Watkins of Nickel Creek, and Charlotte Lawrence. In the last year, he was also featured on Lana Del Rey’s song, “Paris, TX,” from her Grammy-nominated album Did You Know That There’s A Tunnel Under Ocean Blvd, and realized several other notable collaborations including UK-electronic artist George Fitzgerald, Latin Grammy-nominated Colombian artist Elsa Y Elmar. In February 2024, he launched his imprint, FIN. Recordings, a new venture in collaboration with his label, Nettwerk Music Group, and management team, Good Harbor Music. Says Fennell about Infinity, “Sometimes, songs are wandering souls with no home, and it’s not until enough of them are written that the home is realized. I have a proud obsession with all things apocalyptic and the doom and wonder of an ever-expanding universe. This group of songs is an ode to the absurdity of human existence and my fondness for it. My inspirations were very cinematic ranging from big blaring soundscapes to more gentle, dusty settings like Ennio Morricone was so gifted in painting. I am fascinated by what humans are capable of, especially the stories we tell ourselves to explain our world and the space around it. Importantly, I am thankful for the creative space to make art without rules or expectation.

Arbes’ long-awaited debut album, "Counterways", exists on the cusp between the ethereal and the more attention-seeking concerns of pop. The record invites listeners into an unusual sonic world of atmospheric depth. Comparisons can be drawn to New York post-punk of a more colourful bent, running Blondie all the way through to Gang Gang Dance. The album's dream-pop dimension brings to mind Cocteau Twins, while its grittier, art-rock moments, coloured with ambience feels akin to Deerhunter. Glimmering flashes of psychedelia channels the likes of Melody's Echo Chamber.

The ten track album explores romantic dreaming and the struggle to (not) understand and to be understood. It memorialises glimmers of connection, discontentment and longing. Front woman Jess Zanoni’s soulful, oracular voice is anchored by the earthbound brambles of prickly guitar and brushstroke percussion, where all is tethered to a surface of unearthly detail and resonance. Written and recorded over a five year period (2017-2022), Arbes eke out every possible ounce of emotionality from their songs. Not to sedate, but to guide listeners somewhere unexpected, at the song or album's conclusion.

Body Meπa is the New York-based quartet of Greg Fox (drums), Sasha Frere-Jones (guitar), Melvin Gibbs (bass), and Grey McMurray (guitar). As luminaries in the intersecting traditions of improvised music, rock, jazz, fusion, and contemporary classical music, the four artists have each spent decades building diverse practices that extend beyond sound into multiple disciplines. Prayer in Dub, their second release on Hausu Mountain, follows the band’s 2020 album The Work Is Slow.

The album presents a band whose collective intuition as instrumentalists and live-in-the-room songwriters has deepened with each take that they put to tape. Prayer in Dub finds Body Meπa taking up new experiments with song structure and atmosphere, fanning out into a wide menu of both longer and more concise pieces that suggest deliberate shifts in energy and emotional resonance. The album presents a thrilling contrast between storms of precise rhythmic interplay and slowly expanding fields of multi-guitar and bass texture, alternately pushing the narrative toward explosive peaks of intensity and dipping into ambient expanses. Contemplative guitar lines, both bone dry and effected into total abstraction, ripple together over dub-indebted rhythm section grooves before shifting the dial towards beatific twang. Knotty distorted solos surge out of the fray over networks of arpeggios and drum fills.

On Prayer in Dub, Body Meπa pursues a strain of euphoria charged with elegiac grandeur and the looming potential to crumble at any moment under the psychic weight of confusion. It speaks to the band’s goals and general outlook that chaos never completely consumes their sessions. The band channels the kinetic energy of a “supergroup” of veteran musicians into communal works that evolve beyond their creators’ extensive pedigrees into new forms both intimate in sentiment and majestic in scope.

Body Meπa is the New York-based quartet of Greg Fox (drums), Sasha Frere-Jones (guitar), Melvin Gibbs (bass), and Grey McMurray (guitar). As luminaries in the intersecting traditions of improvised music, rock, jazz, fusion, and contemporary classical music, the four artists have each spent decades building diverse practices that extend beyond sound into multiple disciplines. Prayer in Dub, their second release on Hausu Mountain, follows the band’s 2020 album The Work Is Slow.

The album presents a band whose collective intuition as instrumentalists and live-in-the-room songwriters has deepened with each take that they put to tape. Prayer in Dub finds Body Meπa taking up new experiments with song structure and atmosphere, fanning out into a wide menu of both longer and more concise pieces that suggest deliberate shifts in energy and emotional resonance. The album presents a thrilling contrast between storms of precise rhythmic interplay and slowly expanding fields of multi-guitar and bass texture, alternately pushing the narrative toward explosive peaks of intensity and dipping into ambient expanses. Contemplative guitar lines, both bone dry and effected into total abstraction, ripple together over dub-indebted rhythm section grooves before shifting the dial towards beatific twang. Knotty distorted solos surge out of the fray over networks of arpeggios and drum fills.

On Prayer in Dub, Body Meπa pursues a strain of euphoria charged with elegiac grandeur and the looming potential to crumble at any moment under the psychic weight of confusion. It speaks to the band’s goals and general outlook that chaos never completely consumes their sessions. The band channels the kinetic energy of a “supergroup” of veteran musicians into communal works that evolve beyond their creators’ extensive pedigrees into new forms both intimate in sentiment and majestic in scope.