Suche:beat happening

Yellow Vinyl

Includes postcard and poster.
Part of the Optic Sevens 3.0 Reissue Series.
Formed in Olympia, Washington in 1982 by Calvin Johnson, Heather Lewis and Bret Lunsford. This 4 track single was originally released in 1987 on 53rd & 3rd records and appears here for the first time on 7”

UILTY RAZORS, BONA FIDE PUNKS.



Writings on the topic that go off in all directions, mind-numbing lectures given by academics, and testimonies, most of them heavily doctored, from those who “lived through that era”: so many people today fantasize about the early days of punk in our country… This blessed moment when no one had yet thought of flaunting a ridiculous green mohawk, taking Sid Vicious as a hero, or – even worse – making the so-called alternative scene both festive and boorish. There was no such thing in 1976 or 1977, when it wasn’t easy to get hold of the first 45s by the Pistols or the Clash. Few people were aware of what was happening on the fringes of the fringes at the time. Malcolm McLaren was virtually unknown, and having short hair made you seem strange. Who knew then that rock music, which had taken a very bad turn since the early 1970s, would once again become an essential element of liberation? That, thanks to short and fast songs, it would once again rediscover that primitive, social side that was so hated by older generations? Who knew that, besides a few loners who read the music press (it was even better if they read it in English) and frequented the right record stores? Many of these formed bands, because it was impossible to do otherwise. We quickly went from listening to the Velvet Underground to trying to play the Stooges’ intros. It’s a somewhat collective story, even though there weren’t many people to start it.
The Guilty Razors were among those who took part in this initial upheaval in Paris. They were far from being the worst. They had something special and even released a single that was well above the national average. They also had enough songs to fill an album, the one you’re holding. In everyone’s opinion, they were definitely not among the punk impostors that followed in their wake. They were, at least, genuine and credible.

Guilty Razors, Parisian punk band (1975-1978). To understand something about their somewhat linear but very energetic sound, we might need to talk about the context in which it was born and, more broadly, recall the boredom (a theme that would become capital in punk songs) coupled with the desire to blow everything off, which were the basis for the formation of bands playing a rejuvenated rock music ; about the passion for a few records by the Kinks or the early Who, by the Stooges, by the Velvet mostly, which set you apart from the crowd.
And of course, we should remember this new wave, which was promoted by a few articles in the specialized press and some cutting-edge record stores, coming from New York or London, whose small but powerful influence could be felt in Paris and in a handful of isolated places in the provinces, lulled to sleep by so many appalling things, from Tangerine Dream to President Giscard d’Estaing...
In 1975-76, French music was, as almost always, in a sorry state ; it was still dominated by Johnny Hallyday and Sylvie Vartan. Local rock music was also rather bleak, apart from Bijou and Little Bob who tried to revive this small scene with poorly sound-engineered gigs played to almost no one.
In the working class suburbs at the time, it was mainly hard rock music played to 11 that helped people forget about their gruelling shifts at the factory. Here and there, on the outskirts of major cities, you still could find a few rockers with sideburns wearing black armbands since the death of Gene Vincent, but it wasn’t a proper mass movement, just a source of real danger to anyone they came across who wasn't like them. In August 1976, a festival unlike any other took place in Mont-de-Marsan – the First European Punk Festival as the poster said – with almost as many people on stage as in the audience. Yet, on that day, a quasi historical event happened, when, under the blazing afternoon sun, a band of unknowns called The Damned made an unprecedented noise in the arena, reminiscent of the chaotic Stooges in their early adolescence. They were the first genuine punk band to perform in our country: from then on, anything was possible, almost anything seemed permissible.

It makes sense that the four+1 members of Guilty Razors, who initially amplified acoustic guitars with crappy tape recorder microphones, would adopt punk music (pronounced paink in French) naturally and instinctively, since it combines liberating noise with speed of execution and – crucially – a very healthy sense of rebellion (the protesters of May 1968 proclaimed, and it was even a slogan, that they weren’t against old people, but against what had made them grow old. In the mid-1970s, it seemed normal and obvious that old people should now ALSO be targeted!!!).
At the time, the desire to fight back, and break down authority and apathy, was either red or black, often taking the form of leafleting, tumultuous general assemblies in the schoolyard, and massive or shabby demonstrations, most of the time overflowing with an exciting vitality that sometimes turned into fights with the riot police. Indeed, soon after the end of the Vietnam War and following Pinochet’s coup in Chile, all over France, Trotskyist and anarcho-libertarian fervour was firmly entrenched among parts of the educated youth population, who were equally rebellious and troublemakers whenever they had the chance. It should also be noted that when the single "Anarchy in the UK" was first heard, even though not many of us had access to it, both the title and its explosive sound immediately resonated with some of those troublemakers crying out for ANARCHY!!! Meanwhile, the left-wing majority still equated punks with reckless young neo-Nazis. Of course, the widely circulated photos in the mainstream press of Siouxsie Sioux with her swastikas didn’t necessarily help to win over the theorists of the Great Revolution. It took Joe Strummer to introduce The Clash as an anti-racist, anti-fascist and anti-ignorance band for the rejection of old-school revolutionaries to fade a little.

The Lycée Jean-Baptiste Say at Porte d’Auteuil, despite being located in the very posh and very exclusive 16th arrondissement of Paris, didn’t escape these "committed" upheavals, which doubled as the perfect outlet for the less timid members of this generation.
“Back then, politics were fun,” says Tristam Nada, who studied there and went on to become Guilty Razors’ frontman. “Jean-Baptiste was the leftist high-school in the neighbourhood. When the far right guys from the GUD came down there, the Communist League guys from elsewhere helped us fight them off.”
Anything that could challenge authority was fair game and of course, strikes for just about any reason would lead to increasingly frequent truancy (with a definitive farewell to education that would soon follow). Tristam Nada spent his 10th and 11th unfinished grades with José Perez, who had come from Spain, where his father, a janitor, had been sentenced to death by Franco. “José steered my tastes towards solid acts such as The Who. Like most teenagers, I had previously absorbed just about everything that came my way, from Yes to Led Zeppelin to Genesis. I was exploring… And then one day, he told me that he and his brother Carlos wanted to start a rock band.” The Perez brothers already played guitar. “Of course, they were Spanish!”, jokes their singer. “Then, somewhat reluctantly, José took up the bass and we were soon joined by Jano – who called himself Jano Homicid – who took up the rhythm guitar.” Several drummers would later join this core of not easily intimidated young guys who didn’t let adversity get the better of them.

The first rehearsals of the newly named Guilty Razors took place in the bedroom of a Perez aunt. There, the three rookies tried to cover a few standards, songs that often were an integral part of their lives. During a first, short gig, in front of a bewildered audience of tough old-school rockers, they launched into a clunky version of the Velvet Underground's “Heroin”. Challenge or recklessness? A bit of both, probably… And then, step by step, their limited repertoire expanded as they decided to write their own songs, sung in a not always very accurate or academic English, but who cared about proper grammar or the right vocabulary, since what truly mattered was to make the words sound as good as possible while playing very, very fast music? And spitting out those words in a language that left no doubt as to what it conveyed mattered as well.
Trying their hand a the kind of rock music disliked by most of the neighbourhood, making noise, being fiercely provocative: they still belonged to a tiny clique who, at this very moment, had chosen to impose this difference. And there were very few places in France or elsewhere, where one could witness the first stirrings of something that wasn’t a trend yet, let alone a movement.

In the provinces, in late 1976 or early 1977, there couldn’t be more than thirty record stores that were a bit more discerning than average, where you could hear this new kind of short-haired rock music called “punk”. The old clientele, who previously had no problem coming in to buy the latest McCartney or Aerosmith LP, now felt a little less comfortable there…
In Paris, these enlightened places were quite rare and often located nex to what would become the Forum des Halles, a big shopping mall. Between three aging sex workers, a couple of second-hand clothes shops, sellers of hippie paraphernalia and small fashion designers, the good word was loudly spread in two pioneering places – propagators of what was still only a new underground movement. Historically, the first one was the Open Market, a kind of poorly, but tastefully stocked cave. Speakers blasted out the sound of sixties garage bands from the Nuggets compilation (a crucial reference for José Perez) or the badly dressed English kids of Eddie and the Hot Rods. This black-painted den was opened a few years earlier by Marc Zermati, a character who wasn’t always in a sunny disposition, but always quite radical in his (good) choices and his opinions. He founded the independent label Skydog and was one of the promoters of the Mont-de-Marsan punk festivals. Not far from there was Harry Cover, another store more in tune with the new New York scene, which was amply covered in the house fanzine, Rock News (even though it was in it that the photos of the Sex Pistols were first published in France).
It was a favorite hang-out of the Perez brothers and Tristam Nada, as the latter explained. “It’s at Harry Cover’s that we first heard the Pistols and Clash’s 45s, and after that, we decided to start writing our first songs. If they could do it, so could we!”
The sonic shocks that were “Anarchy in the UK”, “White Riot” or the Buzzcocks’s EP, “Spiral Scratch” – which Guilty Razors' sound is reminiscent of – were soon to be amplified by an unparalleled visual shock. In April 1977, right after the release of their first LP, The Clash performed at the Palais des Glaces in Paris, during a punk night organised by Marc Zermati. For many who were there, it was the gig of a lifetime…
Of course, Guilty Razors and Tristam were in the audience: “That concert was fabulous… We Parisian punks were almost all dressed in black and white, with white shirts, skinny leather ties, bikers jackets or light jackets, etc. The Clash, on the other hand, wore colourful clothes. Well, the next day, at the Gibus, you’d spot everyone who had been at this concert, but they weren’t wearing anything black, they were all wearing colours.”

It makes sense to mention the Gibus club, as Guilty Razors often played there (sometimes in front of a hostile audience). It was also the only place in Paris that regularly scheduled new Parisian or Anglo-Saxon acts, such as Generation X, Siouxsie and the Banshees, the Slits, and Johnny Thunders who would become a kind of messed-up mascot for the venue. A little later, in 1978, the Rose Bonbon – formerly the Nashville – also attracted nightly owls in search of electric thrills… In 1977, the iconic but not necessarily excellent Asphalt Jungle often played at the Gibus, sometimes sharing the bill with Metal Urbain, the only band whose aura would later transcend the French borders (“I saw them as the French Sex Pistols,” said Geoff Travis, head of their British label Rough Trade). Already established in this small scene, Metal Urbain helped the young and restless Guilty Razors who had just arrived. Guitarist for Metal Urbain Hermann Schwartz remembers it: “They were younger than us, we were a bit like their mentors even if it’s too strong a word… At least they were credible. We thought they were good, and they had good songs which reminded of the Buzzcocks that I liked a lot. But at some point, they started hanging out with the Hells Angels. That’s when we stopped following them.”

The break-up was mutual, since, Guilty Razors, for their part, were shocked when they saw a fringe element of the audience at Metal Urbain concerts who repeatedly shouted “Sieg Heil” and gave Nazi salutes. These provocations, even still minor (the bulk of the skinhead crowd would later make their presence felt during concerts), weren’t really to the liking of the Perez brothers, whose anti-fascist convictions were firmly rooted. Some things are non-negotiable.
A few months earlier (in July 1978), Guilty Razors had nevertheless opened very successfully for Metal Urbain at the Bus Palladium, a more traditonally old-school rock night-club. But, as was sometimes the case back then, the night turned into a mass brawl when suburban rockers came to “beat up punks”.

Back then, Parisian nights weren’t always sweet and serene.

So, after opening as best as they could for The Jam (their sound having been ruined by the PA system), our local heroes were – once again – met outside by a horde of greasers out to get them. “Thankfully,” says Tristam, “we were with our roadies, motorless bikers who acted as a protective barrier. We were chased in the neighbouring streets and the whole thing ended in front of a bar, with the owner coming out with a rifle…”
Although Tristam and the Perez brothers narrowly escaped various, potentially bloody, incidents, they weren’t completely innocent of wrongdoing either. They still find amusing their mugging of two strangers in the street for example (“We were broke and we simply wanted to buy tickets for the Heartbreakers concert that night,” says Tristam). It so happened that their victims were two key figures in the rock business at the time: radio presenter Alain Manneval and music publisher Philippe Constantin. They filed a complaint and sought monetary compensation, but somehow the band’s manager, the skilful but very controversial Alexis, managed to get the complaint withdrawn and Guilty Razors ended up signing with Constantin with a substantial advance.

They also signed with Polydor and the label released in 1978 their only three-track 45, featuring “I Don't Wanna be A Rich”, “Hurts and Noises” and “Provocate” (songs that exuded perpetual rebellion and an unquenchable desire for “class” confrontation). It was a very good record, but due to a lack of promotion (radio stations didn’t play French artists singing in English), it didn’t sell very well. Only 800 copies were allegedly sold and the rest of the stock was pulped… Initially, the three tracks were to be included on a LP that never came to be, since they were dropped by Polydor (“Let’s say we sometimes caused a ruckus in their offices!” laughs Tristam.) In order to perfect the long-awaited LP, the band recorded demos of other tracks. There was a cover of Pink Floyd's “Lucifer Sam” from the Syd Barrett era – proof of an enduring love for the sixties’ greats –, “Wake Up” a hangover tale and “Bad Heart” about the Baader-Meinhof gang, whose actions had a profound impact on the era and on a generation seeking extreme dissent... On the album you’re now discovering, you can also hear five previously unreleased tracks recorded a bit later during an extended and freezing stay in Madrid, in a makeshift studio with the invaluable help of a drummer also acting as sound engineer. He was both an enthusiastic old hippie and a proper whizz at sound engineering. Here too, certain influences from the fifties and sixties (Link Wray, the Troggs) are more than obvious in the band’s music.

Shortly after a final stormy and rather barbaric (on the audience’s side) “Punk night” at the Olympia in June 1978, Tristam left the band ; his bandmates continued without him for a short while.

But like most pioneering punk bands of the era, Guilty Razors eventually split up for good after three years (besides once in Spain, they’d only played in Paris). The reason for ceasing business activities were more or less the same for everyone: there were no venues outside one’s small circuit to play this kind of rock music, which was still frightening, unknown, or of little interest to most people. The chances of recording an LP were virtually null, since major labels were only signing unoriginal but reassuring sub-Téléphone clones, and the smaller ones were only interested in progressive rock or French chanson for youth clubs. And what about self-production? No one in our small safety-pinned world had thought about it yet. There wasn’t enough money to embark on that sort of venture anyway.

So yes, the early days of punk in France were truly No Future!

Musique de Niche Vol.1 barked for a Vol.2. The second opus of any relevant trilogy (did I just spoil a Vol.3?) undergoes always the hardest trial by fire: but the bois, Pierre Marty and Admo, once again delivered these flavors you didnt know your collection was missing.

Same city, different district and new inspirations: following the world premiere in Berlin of their Liveset, they hit the home studio, refining the last bits of this new EP and giving it a new twist while still echoing the first volume.

Tech-house yes, but is it really ?

Indecisiveness feels like we could've said maybe yes but no but...
Well: Alpyren did the quite impressive feat of pressing this feeling on a record - that's A1. The haunting voice sample is this sassy inner self trying to tell you whats up. At least, you're not alone: the quirky bleeps and the punchy bassline are there lending you a hand to make that surely bad decision.

By flipping the record or the usb, you get to the two tracks where they let their new inspirations hit the speakers.

B1 is out before GTA VI, but it could've been in the soundtrack if the game was actually happening between Los Santos and Marseille.G-funk with the Alpyren touch: for the floor, a tune that will make you sway. Broken beats, almost broken legs.

B2 is the freaky one of the bunch: starts with the gloomy sound signature of the duo, but we're back with more 80's inspirations.Darker synth pop with a twist: you end up following the kick with the head bobbing in sync, while all the FX sounds bring to the track this extra spice.

It's 5pm here at the Ordinateuf HQ and we've just finished listening to the latest masters of the new E.P by Alpyren 'Musique de Niche vol2'. Before we're back to more phone calls, we'd like to thank all the friends that bought the first volume: the support has been quite amazing so far.

Enjoy this new one - its got our paw of approval.

Spanish techno titan Andres Campo is the latest artist to join the DCLTD ranks with his ‘Domaine’ four tracker. Conte Bleu: Full-on high speed techno attack with occasional industrial stabs, alternating with mysterious snatches of melody and echoing vocal heard as if through distant space, especially in the breakdown. Nuit Blanche: Fast breaksy beats with fluttering metal motifs and otherworldly vocal FX, all with a jazzy feel, and a long breakdown with a compulsive vocal riff crescendo. Ligne Jaune: Merciless beat with rattling, hissing percussive layers, with a muffled monotone processed vocal strand dominating the breakdown echoing, reverberating, up to the massive drop - before insane techno bombardment takes over once more. Pois Gris: merciless techno beats create a dystopian soundscape of spacey stabs and a repeated vocal ululation. Radio signal FX punctuate the invincible stomping percussion. Something dark is happening

Googling “paradise house”, the first results to pop up are an endless list of European b&b’s with whitewashed lime façades, all of them promising “…an unmatched travel experience a few steps from the sea”. Next, a little further down, are the institutional websites of a few select semi-luxury retirement homes (no photos shown, but lots of stock images of smiling nurses with reassuring looks). To find the “paradise house” we’re after, we have to scroll even further down. Much further down.

It feels like yesterday, and at the same time it seems like a million years ago. The Eighties had just ended, and it was still unclear what to expect from the Nineties. Mobile phones that were not the size of a briefcase and did not cost as much as a car? A frightening economic crisis? The guitar-rock revival?! Certainly, the best place to observe that moment of transition was the dancefloor. Truly epochal transformations were happening there. From America, within a short distance one from the other, two revolutionary new musical styles had arrived: the first one sounded a bit like an “on a budget” version of the best Seventies disco-music – Philly sound made with a set of piano-bar keyboards! – the other was even more sparse, futuristic and extraterrestrial. It was a music with a quite distinct “physical” component, which at the same time, to be fully grasped, seemed to call for the knotty theories of certain French post-modern philosophers: Gilles Deleuze, Félix Guattari, Paul Virilio... Both those genres – we would learn shortly after – were born in the black communities of Chicago and Detroit, although listening to those vinyl 12” (often wrapped in generic white covers, and with little indication in the label) you could not easily guess whether behind them there was a black boy from somewhere in the Usa, or a girl from Berlin, or a pale kid from a Cornish coastal town.

Quickly, similar sounds began to show up from all corners of Europe. A thousand variations of the same intuition: leaner, less lean, happier, slightly less intoxicated, more broken, slower, faster, much faster... Boom! From the dancefloors – the London ones at least, whose chronicles we eagerly read every month in the pages of The Face and i-D – came tales of a new generation of clubbers who had completely stopped “dressing up” to go dancing; of hot tempered hooligans bursting into tears and hugging everyone under the strobe lights as the notes of Strings of Life rose up through the fumes of dry ice (certain “smiling” pills were also involved, sure). At this point, however, we must move on to Switzerland.

In Switzerland, in the quiet and diligent town of Lugano, between the 1980s and 1990s there was a club called “Morandi”. Its hot night was on Wednesdays, when the audience also came from Milan, Como, Varese and Zurich. Legend goes that, one night, none less than Prince and Sheila E were spotted hiding among the sofas, on a day-off of the Italian dates of the Nude Tour… The Wednesday resident and superstar was an Italian dj with an exotic name: Don Carlos. The soundtrack he devised was a mixture of Chicago, Detroit, the most progressive R&B and certain forgotten classics of old disco music: practically, what the Paradise Garage in New York might have sounded like had it not closed in 1987. In between, Don Carlos also managed to squeeze in some tracks he had worked on in his studio on Lago Maggiore. One in particular: a track that was rather slow compared to the BPM in fashion at the time, but which was a perfect bridge between house and R&B. The title was Alone: Don Carlos would explain years later that it had to be intended both in the English meaning of “by itself” and like the Italian word meaning “halo”. That wasn’t the only double entendre about the song, anyway. Its own very deep nature was, indeed, double. On the one hand, Alone was built around an angelic keyboard pattern and a romantic piano riff that took you straight to heaven; on the other, it showcased enough electronic squelches (plus a sax part that sounded like it had been dissolved by acid rain) to pigeonhole the tune into the “junk modernity” section, aka the hallmark of all the most innovative sounds of the time: music that sounded like it was hand-crafted from the scraps of glittering overground pop.

No one knows who was the first to call it “paradise house”, nor when it happened. Alternative definitions on the same topic one happened to hear included “ambient house”, “dream house”, “Mediterranean progressive”… but of course none were as good (and alluring) as “paradise house”. What is certain is that such inclination for sounds that were in equal measure angelic and neurotic, romantic and unaffective, quickly became the trademark of the second generation of Italian house. Music that seemed shyly equidistant from all the rhythmic and electronic revolutions that had happened up to that moment (“Music perfectly adept at going nowhere slowly” as noted by English journalist Craig McLean in a legendary field report for Blah Blah Blah magazine). Music that to a inattentive ear might have sounded as anonymous as a snapshot of a random group of passers-by at 10AM in the centre of any major city, but perfectly described the (slow) awakening in the real world after the universal love binge of the so-called Second Summer of Love.

For a brief but unforgettable season, in Italy “paradise house” was the official soundtrack of interminable weekends spent inside the car, darting from one club to another, cutting the peninsula from North to centre, from East to West coast in pursuit of the latest after-hours disco, trading kilometres per hour with beats per minute: practically, a new New Year’s Eve every Friday and Saturday night. This too was no small transformation, as well as a shock for an adult Italy that was encountering for the first time – thanks to its sons and daughters – the wild side of industrial modernity. The clubbers of the so-called “fuoriorario” scene were the balls gone mad in the pinball machine most feared by newspapers, magazines and TV pundits. What they did each and every weekend, apart from going crazy to the sound of the current white labels, was linking distant geographical points and non-places (thank you Marc Augé!) – old dance halls, farmhouses and business centres – transformed for one night into house music heaven. As Marco D’Eramo wrote in his 1995 essay on Chicago, Il maiale e il grattacielo: “Four-wheeled capitalism distorts our age-old image of the city, it allows the suburbs to be connected to each other, whereas before they were connected only by the centre (…) It makes possible a metropolitan area without a metropolis, without a city centre, without downtown. The periphery is no longer a periphery of any centre, but is self-centred”.

“Paradise house” perfectly understood all of this and turned it into a sort of cyber-blues that didn’t even need words, and unexpectedly brought back a drop of melancholic (post?)-humanity within a world that by then – as we would wholly realise in the decades to come – was fully inhuman and heartless. A world where we were all alone, and surrounded by a sinister yellowish halo, like a neon at the end of its life cycle. But, for one night at least, happy."

Because of their mix of hellified gangster shit and progressive compositions, I once jokingly called Clipping "Deathrow Tull." Well, it's not a joke anymore. While Clipping's last few projects have been record-long concepts like classic prog rock, their cyberpunk-infused new album Dead Channel Sky is mixtape-like, a carefully curated collection in which every track is a love letter to a possible present. It sounds crisp and classic at the same time. When something strikes us as retrospective and futuristic at the same time, it's a reminder of how slipshod our present moment truly is. Juxtaposing high-tech, corporate command-and-control systems (the "cyber") with the lo-fi, D.I.Y. underground (the "punk"), cyberpunk proper starts in 1982 and ends in 1999, from Blade Runner to The Matrix. Concurrently, hip-hop matured, went through its Golden Era, then melted into further forms: it went from from Fab 5 Freddy to Public Enemy to Missy Elliott. While other genres flirted with it, hip-hop was fickle and fey. Rap and rock birthed mutant offspring maligned by most, and hip-hop's relations with electronica rarely fared any better. What if someone explicitly merged hip-hop and cyberpunk - those twin suns of the '80s and '90s - into one set and sound? After all, both movements are the result of hacking the haunted leftovers of a war-torn culture that's long since moved on. On Dead Channel Sky, Clipping texture-map the twin histories of hip-hop and cyberpunk onto an alternate present where Rammellzee and Bambaataa are the superheroes of old; where Cybotron and Mantronix are the reigning legends; where Egyptian Lover and Freestyle are debated endlessly, and Ultramag and Public Enemy are the undeniable forefathers; where the lost movements of 1980s and the 1990s are still happening: rave, trip-hop, hip-house, acid house, drum & bass, big beat-the detritus of a different timeline, the survivors of armed audio warfare. Clipping are no strangers to sci-fi: two of their records were nominated for Hugo Awards (one of science fiction's top literary prizes), and a novella spun-off from their music was nominated for a third. On Dead Channel Sky, Clipping's co-conspirators include everyone from the guitarist Nels Cline, to their labelmates Cartel Madras, rapper/actor Tia Nomore, and wordsmith Aesop Rock. Diggs is known for intricate lyrics and rapid-fire rapping, and the tracks that Snipes and Hutson build in the background are no less complex. All of the above serves to give us a glimpse of an adjacent possible present, where hip-hop and cyberpunk are one culture. Binary stars are often perceived as one object when viewed with the naked eye. Like those twin sun systems, it'll take some special equipment and some discerning attention to pull the stars apart on this record. As Diggs barks on the fire-starting "Change the Channel": Everything is very important!

If you can picture the very furthest, coldest, darkest part of Norway, that's where Mind over MIDI resides. If you want to get an idea of what it's like there, and can do without the frostbite, then this is the perfect solution. 1997 re-issue.

2022 Repress
Dear Friends,

25 years of KOMPAKT is no reason to get hysterical. Then again, it's a nice occasion to have a laid back look at the situation in electronic music today. Minimal techno in all it's varieties is now established as the worlds best dance music, as you may know. So far, so good. What's next Nothing. Dance on!

I've gain two essential insights with the passage of time. First off, that music which over the years only knew 'faster, better, stronger' and 'forwards ever - backwards never' can constantly repeat, quote and loop itself without killing itself. A music that suspends the meaning of time and eventually can set a parallel, better universe of fantasy against the twisted grimaces of reality. Again and again.

And secondly, that getting older living in/with this music is a quite relative term to which ideally a serenity of age can ring a bell. This shows that 25 years after 1993 so many protagonists, enthusiasts, DJs, musicians, relentlessly rave fighters - with all personal advancement - are still there and still celebrate, play or produce this/theirs music; and compete themselves and their music just with that.

Two such heroes of the neat and tidy bass drum culture are with no doubt T.RAUMSCHMIERE aka MARCO HAAS and REINHARD VOIGT. From day one, those two figureheads have given live-techno the glam of stage-diving rock 'n' roll, long before vodka and beer prevailed as alternative lube for ecstatic dancefloors.

Even better they both now raise the glass at the longest techno-bar in the world named KOMPAKT EXTRA/SPEICHER. With DREI MILLIONEN KO¨LSCH, Reinhard Voigt continues to establish his savvy 'way into sound', which he's pursued for a few years now on his many releases. He's turning genre cliche´s into a very personal take with his defiant mix of the deepness of a lonesome cowboy and his implicit faith in the dancefloor and gives the music a very personal touch of ennnoblement of the faith in itself. Technos dignity shall be inviolable.

For me, AUGEN ZU by T.RAUMSCHMIERE is one of the most beautiful masterpieces of bass-heavy 'Umta Umta' techno. A few strikingly brilliant vocal lines from the master himself, put through the machines and combined with a relentlessly sequencer that says it all. This cheers my heart and we will always need such tracks to remind us of ourselves. And to forget about ourselves. Smash hits of unreason! Or the prettiest declaration of love to a music which gets its magical moments from what's happening between the bass drum-beats. But only by this when the bassdrum remains linear and will do so forever. Both Marco Haas and Reinhard Voigt know that. Because after techno comes always techno.

Wolfgang Voigt - May, 2018 Wolfgang Voigt - May, 2018

25 Jahre KOMPAKT sind kein Grund sich aufzuregen. Aber dennoch ein schöner Anlass, einen gelassenen Blick auf die Lage der elektronischen Musik zu werfen. Denn der globale Minimal-Techno, in seinen unterschiedlichen Spielarten, hat sich bekanntlich längst als beste Tanzmusik der Welt etabliert. Recht so. Was nun Gar nichts. Weitertanzen.

Zwei essentielle Erkenntnisse haben sich bei mir im Laufe der Zeit durchgesetzt: Erstens - dass eine Musik, die über Jahre nur ein »Höher, Schneller, Weiter« oder ein »Forwards Ever - Backwards Never« kannte, sich ständig wiederholen, selbst zitieren und loopen kann, ohne daran zu ersticken. Die Bedeutung von Zeit und Vergänglichkeit im besten Sinne außer Kraft setzen und der hässlichen Fratze der Realität eine parallele, bessere Welt der Fantasie entgegensetzen kann. Immer wieder.

Und zweitens: dass »Altern in/mit dieser Musik« ein sehr relativer Begriff ist, dem bestenfalls Altersgelassenheit etwas sagt, Alter. Das zeigt sich immer wieder im schönsten Sinne, wenn 25 Jahre nach 1993 so viele Akteure, Enthusiasten, DJs, Musikanten, unkaputtbare Kampfraver, bei aller persönlichen Weiterentwicklung, immer noch da sind und immer noch diese/ihre Musik abfeiern, auflegen oder eben produzieren und sich und ihr Tun auch nur daran messen lassen müssen.

Zwei solche Recken der gepflegten Bassdrumkultur sind zweifelsohne T.RAUMSCHMIERE aka MARCO HAAS und REINHARD VOIGT. Zwei Rampensäue der ersten Stunde, die Live-Techno den Glam des Rock'n'Roll Stagedivings gegeben haben, lange bevor Vodka und Bier sich als alternative Gleitmittel eines ektatischen Dancefloors in der Breite durchgesetzt hatten.

Umso schöner, dass sich eben diese Beiden mal wieder an der längsten Techno-Theke der Welt, genannt KOMPAKT EXTRA/SPEICHER über die beiden Seiten einer Schallplatte hinweg musikalisch zuprosten. Mit dem Track DREI MILLIONEN KÖLSCH setzt REINHARD VOIGT seinen smarten »way into sound« fort, den er schon seit ein paar Jahren auf diversen Veröffentlichungen konsequent verfolgt. Mit einer trotzigen Mischung aus lonesome cowboyhafter Deepness und dem unbedingten Bekenntnis zum Dancefloor schafft er es, den Klischees des Techno eine sehr persönliche Note der Veredelung des Glaubens an sich selbst zu geben. Die Würde des Techno ist unantastbar.

Der Track AUGEN ZU von T.RAUMSCHMIERE ist für mich eines der schönsten Meisterstücke in der Tradition des oktavbassgeschwängerten Umta-Umta Techno. Einige wenige markant brilliante Textzeilen, vom Meister selbst in deutscher Sprache durch die Maschinen geschickt, gepaart mit einem Sequenzer der keine Gefangenen macht, lassen keine Fragen offen. Da geht mir Herz und Rucksack auf. Solche Tracks werden wir immer brauchen, um uns an uns selbst zu erinnern. Um uns immer wieder selbst zu vergessen. Smash-Hits der Unvernunft! Oder die schönste Liebeserklärung an eine Musik, die ihre magischsten Momente immer aus dem gezogen hat, was zwischen den Bassdrumschlägen passiert. Das funktioniert aber nur, wenn die Bassdrum gerade ist und es für immer bleibt. Und Marco Haas und Reinhard Voigt wissen das. Denn nach Techno kommt immer noch Techno.

Wolfgang Voigt, Mai 2018

Music never exists in a vacuum — every scene and sound evolves from the non-stop exchange of ideas between different groups and cultures. Traditions get passed down from one generation to the next, and then individual heads take influence from their own unique perspective. Sometimes, certain people strike upon fusions that spark massive new movements, but even those rarest innovations came from somewhere.

Jon E Cash knows this more than most — the legendary beats he started putting out at the turn of the millennium had their own disparate roots and influences which he had the motivation to put together into a sound he called sublow. There wasn't any other reference point for this music — when he took the first white labels of 'Drop Top Bimmer Kid' into Blackmarket Records in Soho, London, he had to describe it to a puzzled Nicky Blackmarket and J Da Flex as being, "between garage and hip-hop."

Playing catch-up in 2004, Rephlex Records nodded to sublow when trying to introduce a wider audience to the sounds which had been tearing up the London underground. "Grime. Sublow. Dubstep... It's Music. Different people call it different things depending on when they discovered it." But Jon E Cash's sound was rooted in more than the UK garage that had dominated the clubs through the late 90s, reaching way back to his pre-teen days when the first waves of hip-hop culture crossed the Atlantic and broke in the UK.

25 years on, it's a fine time to reflect on the impact of the music Cash made at the turn of the millennium. History looks back favourably on what he and the Black Ops crew were doing with sublow in the early 00s. The timing meant it ran in parallel with what was happening over East with Pay As U Go, Roll Deep et al, and of course there was crossover. Every DJ and every MC was on the hunt for the best beats they could find. But there's a whole different swagger to sublow — a different web of influences, a different intention and so a different outcome. It's still there in the beats Cash is making more than 20 years later — his 3dom Music label is carrying upfront productions with that sublow DNA coursing through their veins. Whatever the beat or the tempo, the drums are still hard as nails, and the bass is tuned for maximum rave damage.

This is that absolute stank-face filth: hard, espionage drama-soul and tough, jazzy street-funk. Hogan, The Hawk & Dirty John Crown sounds like the soundtrack of a blaxploitation movie from the early 70s and, packed with funky fusion and smoother orchestral numbers, it is basically that.

Featuring a veritable who's who of killer library break snakes - Alan Parker, Alan Hawkshaw (under sneaky alias William Parrish), Simon Haseley, Reg Tilsley and Gordon Grant - it's not hard to see how this commands over £350 on secondary markets.

This beautifully presented reissue, part of Be With's fresh campaign with the legendary library label Music De Wolfe, is well overdue.

Recorded for De Wolfe in 1972, Hogan, The Hawk, Dirty John Crown is a fantastic start-to-finish listen. The flute-funk of Hawkshaw and Parker's opener "The Hawk" comprises driving, fuzzy, wah-wah-drizzled bell-laced breaks with synths and basslines to murder for. Up next, Haseley's "The Happening" is a carefree, rhythmic builder with strings and horns. Let's face it, it doesn't prepare us for the monster that follows...

Hawkshaw and Parker's amazing "Main Chance" is likely the reason you're here; it's a moody, beaty proto-hip-hop banger; all rolling drums and flute-laced, organ-drenched, synth-funk breaks. Just sensational - you'll want to play it again and again and again.

The cool AF "Hogan Baby" has a soft, rounded, bluesy feel - it's a lighter number and Haseley's work here sounds more than a little indebted to Burt Bacharach. It's melancholic, reflective and contains ace breaks with beautiful flutes and wistful horns. It's just gorgeous. Grant's pounding "Dirty John Crown" brilliantly conjures swirling string-swept serenity atop driving, incisive drama-funk breaks. Sublime. Hawkshaw and Parker come roaring back with the murky, creeping crime-funk of "Swarf" with killer basslines underpinning slow-mo high-class flute-funk.

Reg Tilsley enters the fray with the bright, snappy, carefree "Turnover". It's lightweight but still retains some nice orchestral movements. The brief “Tarantula” gets us back on track - from the pen and chops of Hawkshaw and Parker, are we surprised? - with the driving crime funk breaks, super clean yet brooding. Synths, sax and 'nuff guitars. YES.

Side 2 opens with the car chase swag of Haseley's dramatic, driving "Precinct". Jazzy, instrumental flute funk over great percussive breaks. We love this. Haseley's rolling "Sidewinder Version 1" is robust and exuberant with bouncy horns before a cracking Parker-Hawkshaw one-two featuring the tense "Pressure" and the deeply soulful "Call Me", a relaxed, medium-tempo organ feature. With building piano and strings Gordon Grant's excellently titled "Scorch" is as aggressive and dramatic as you'd hope. Hawkshaw and Parker's furtive flute-funk of "Digger" precede the light, melodic and romantic themes of Tilsley's "Marianne" whilst "Sidewinder Version 2", a faster iteration of Track B2 sees Haseley close out this remarkable set in bouncy, bright fashion.

The audio for Hogan, The Hawk, Dirty John Crown has been meticulously remastered by Be With regular Simon Francis, ensuring this release sounds better than ever. Cicely Balston's expert skills have made sure nothing is lost in the cut whilst the records have been pressed to the highest possible standard at Record Industry in Holland. The original, iconic sleeve has been restored here at Be With HQ as the finishing touch to this long overdue re-issue.

The singles are long out of print!! “It's like electronic stoner rock. Very doomy, very sabbath! Sit back and nod your head to it. I don't know what this sounds like!’ JACK OSBOURNE (review of Kling Klang’s Heavydale in Kerrang) KKKKK - Single of The Week // “I could not believe it when I saw that there was a band named Kling Klang from Liverpool. A group named after Kraftwerk's Dusseldorf studio? I had to check them out. Pounding Krautrock inspired Motorik beat, like Neu! welded to incessant Phillip Glass keyboard riffs on acid. But somehow creating their own authentic style. I had to go and say “hello” and offer them studio time. Great maverick music… Their recordings still sound amazing, and like no other band that I have heard before or since.” Andy Mccluskey, OMD // “I first heard Kling Klang when recording The Coral with Geoff Barrow (BEAK>) and we immediately loved them. Heavydale blew me away then and still does. When we curated All Tomorrows Parties festival we invited them to play, then invited them to come on our European Tour for our Album Third. They were so awesome live. For me, when they played it was the beginning of the whole show and not just a support band. So cool this collection of singles is happening.” Adrian Utley, Portishead.

The second cover album, released in 2013, is now available on vinyl for the first time! It features songs from a variety of genres, both Japanese and Western,
arranged in Clammbon's signature style.



[c] a3. U & I (After School Tea Time [Yui Hirasawa, Mio Akiyama, Ritsu Tainaka, Tsumugi Kotobuki, Azusa Nakano])

,Sad Sappy Sucker" (oder mit dem ganzen Titel auf dem Cover ,Sad Sappy Sucker Chokin on a Mouthful of Lost Thoughts") ist ein Compilation-Album von Modest Mouse aus dem Jahr 2001. Ursprünglich sollte ,Sad Sappy Sucker" 1994 das Debütalbum von Modest Mouse werden, wurde dann aber für ein paar Jahre auf Eis gelegt, bis es schließlich 2001 nach dem Erfolg von ,The Moon & Antarctica", dem dritten Album der Band, rausgebracht wurde. Einige Songs wurden in den Dub Narcotic Studios in Olympia, Washington, von Beat Happening-Frontmann Calvin Johnson aufgenommen. Das Album wurde offiziell von Johnsons Label K Records veröffentlicht und enthält neun zusätzliche Titel, die zur ursprünglichen Trackliste hinzugefügt wurden. Die ersten 15 Titel bilden das ursprüngliche Album "Sad Sappy Sucker". Die Titel 16 bis 24 stammen aus dem Anrufbeantworter von Isaac Brock, der einen ,Call to Dial a Song"-Dienst eingerichtet hatte. (Quelle: Wikipedia)

Kyoko Koizumi, aka Kyon Kyon or Kyon², was one of the most popular and best selling pop idols through the 80s & 90s and on this album, thanks to the vision of Haruo Chikada as a producer, an unlikely combination of her vocals with the burgeoning sonics of house music takes place to great effect. What must have seemed like a cultural anomaly to contemporary audiences, particularly so early into the canon of house music (this record saw the light of day in 1989), we can now retrospectively recognise that not only does this album succeed as a snapshot of the musical zeitgeist of the time - it also predicted the unification of house & dance music with commercial pop sensibilities that has remained in the culture in the decades since. However, what is happening sonically on this record goes beyond anything disposable or vapid that might come to mind when one thinks of Pop forays into house music - we are served up menacing acid lines, hip-house rhythms and even some digi-dub excursions

Young Gun Silver Fox are the captains of AM Waves, setting sail towards an isle where melodies soak the shoreline and grooves sway like palm trees. Their route traces a natural progression fromWest End Coast, an album that cast Andy Platts (Young Gun) and Shawn Lee (Silver Fox) as musical virtuosos of SoCal-infused pop. AM Waves does more than duplicate the perfection of West End Coast. It improves it.

Recorded at The Shop in London and Roffey Hall in the English countryside, AM Waves burnishes the blend between the duo's modern aesthetic and their sumptuously crafted homage to '70s-styled pop, rock, and soul. "This music hits a certain spot for me personally that nothing else quite does," says Shawn, who produced the album amidst his projects for Saint Etienne, Shawn Lee's Ping Pong Orchestra, and several other acts. "It's real high-caliber music. It's easy and breezy to listen to but it's really hard to make. Every aspect is A game."

The A game behind AM Waves fuels 43 minutes of Young Gun Silver Fox in peak form. "AM Waves is much more instinctive," says Andy, whose penchant for writing irresistible hooks and melodies also shapes his role as lead singer and lyricist/composer for the band Mamas Gun. "It's more vivid. You can see the clarity to the colors of AM Waves whereas West End Coast is slightly more impressionist, as it were."

Originally issued as a single in September 2017, "Midnight in Richmond" is the anchor of AM Waves. "I hit one chord, which I'd never played before, and the song sort of wrote itself," notes Shawn. "It was intuitive. In many ways, the primary function of what I'm doing is trying to find that chord that opens a door and takes you someplace else. Those chords have magic." Andy embellishes the song's appeal by nimbly juxtaposing wistful emotions with a sun-kissed melody, his voice evoking richly drawn memories. The qualities that make "Midnight in Richmond" an instant classic abound throughout the album.

"Lenny" and "Take It or Leave It" spotlight Andy's versatility as a songwriter. The former was inspired by a dream he had where Lenny Kravitz owned a bar. "It was surreal," he says. "He was polishing the glasses and just serving me hit after hit." Like swimming through moonshine, Andy languorously savors every syllable in the song. "Take It or Leave It" is pure pop bliss. "That was one of those songs that fell out in half an hour," he says. "I had everything and it was done." Shawn adds, "It's such a perfect song in itself. When I listen to it, it's like you've created a record that already existed."

Young Gun Silver Fox introduce a five-piece horn section on "Underdog" that literally trumpets the song's protagonist. Shawn affectionately dubbed them the "Seaweed Horns" in honor of the Seawind Horns, an LA-based unit that recorded with powerhouses like Michael Jackson,Rufus & Chaka Khan,and Earth, Wind & Fire during the late-'70s. Andy explains, "The horns grab another hue of the west coast sound, which is the starting point, but it's also maybe the point where we're injecting a little bit more of ourselves and some outside colors into the familiar west coast palette."

A bounty of treasures course through AM Waves' ebb and flow. "Mojo Rising," which the duo penned with Rob Johnson, is a veritable retreat to paradise. "Sky-bound, heaven sent / Way above the clouds watching shootingstars descend," Andy sings, mirroring the music's celestial undertones. Sensuality contours the notes on "Just a Man," a song that basks in the allure of a woman who leaves "footprints on the water" while "Love Guarantee" is festooned with the Seaweed Horns. "I wanted to bring more of that R&B slickness into the mix," Shawn notes about the latter track. "We hadn't done a tune with that sort of groove." Similar to his work on "Underdog," Nichol Thomson's intricate horn arrangement on "LoveGuarantee"exemplifies another distinction between AM Waves and its predecessor.

"Caroline" occupies a special place on AM Waves, beyond spawning the album title. It tells the story of Radio Caroline, a pirate radio station that broadcast from an offshore vessel during the '60s and '70s. "They played the music that kids wanted to hear, whether it was the old stuff or cutting edge stuff," says Andy. "'Caroline' is about Radio Caroline's eventual capture." Complementing Andy Platts' deft wordplay, which draws parallels between radio airwaves and the station's literal home on the ocean, Shawn Lee layers nearly a dozen different parts on "Caroline," showcasing the vastness of his musicality. "I loved that track as soon as I heard it," Andy continues. "It's a beautiful fusion of me and Shawn."

The Seaweed Horns joinYoung Gun Silver Foxas they detour to the dance floor on "Kingston Boogie." Shawn explains the track's genesis, "I was thinking, what have we not done yet We definitely should get an AOR disco thing happening. I quite like disco. The beat is so metronomic that it allows you to be really sophisticated on top. 'Kingston Boogie' just laid itself out. I call it 'midnight disco.'" With a nod to "Lenny," Andy Platts sets "Kingston Boogie" back at Lenny's Bar, this time revealing a detail or two about its mysterious proprietor as he pours sweet wine and moonshine.

In a sense, AM Waves ends with the beginning. Even before there was Young Gun Silver Fox, there was "Lolita," the first song Andy Platts and Shawn Lee wrote together and a crowd-pleasing staple of the duo's live sets. The tale of a femme fatale who harbors a secret was recorded for West End Coast but instead furnished the B-side to "Long Way Back" as well as a bonus track on the North American edition of the album. Despite the song's checkered trajectory, its infectious chorus sparked the brighter, more buoyant orientation of AM Waves.

Like the moon pulling the tide, Young Gun Silver Fox are a magnet for good songs. "We're both so obsessed and constantly interested in music-making," says Andy. "We're both thinking about it all the time. When you know you have an accomplice with you that's the same as you, it's very liberating. Suddenly, worlds of color start to appear." Indeed, AM Waves is elemental in its power to induce pleasure. Dive right in.

Christian John Wikane

(New York City / February 2018)

Here to dazzle you by the power of the disco ball, Lack of Afro is your friendly neighbourhood ‘Love Dealer’. Two years on from the funk & soul rebirth of ‘Square One’, powered by the ubiquitous ‘Loving Arms’ featuring Greg Blackman, Lack of Afro aka Adam Gibbons is now close to two decades deep in the game with soundtrack credits galore and online streams doing calculator-busting numbers. With extensive touring taking ‘Love Dealer’ up and down the country this Autumn, Gibbons’ ninth studio album is all for "the thrill of seeing people on a dancefloor, all collectively locked into a track that you've produced - there’s nothing like it!”.


‘Love Dealer’ is the authentic modern disco experience, packing a stacked sole’s worth of club beats full of stardusted sing-alongs, style-outs and French touch-style cool. Despite being “written during one of the longest winters in living memory”, ‘Love Dealer’, featuring some co-production from fellow South Coast dancefloor scholar Flevans (and influenced by producer du jour Barry Can’t Swim), exudes warmth and will make you sweat when its highs take effect.


Entering the scene with the radiance of ‘Make It Shine’ featuring Greg Blackman, washing over the airwaves of BBC 6 Music and Radio 2 and taking up a 10-week residency on the Jazz FM playlist, Gibbons and his crack line-up of discotheque players are your go-to team when you can’t wait for the weekend to begin, as subtle as they are straight down to business. ‘Love Dealer’ offers you nothing but the best in sparkling string symphonies, the hippest guitar licks, samples of those invited beyond the velvet rope and struts soaked in night fever.


Double A-side ‘Walls Start Rockin’ and ‘Heart & Soul’ guide the album’s glamour-and-groove, while ‘Love Saves The Day’ and ‘Plain to See’ dramatically take to the podium in a shimmer of pure peak 70s theatre. ‘Keeping Me Strong’ is the synergy of disco chic and the sound of a global advertising tie-in with Dyson, ahead of Gibbons taking a slightly Moroder/Cerrone-ish detour on ‘Idolising People Like Madlib’. “'Love Dealer' is aimed unequivocally at the dancefloor" says Adam. "As an artist, I wanted to push myself in a slightly new direction - more into the land of disco and a four to the floor sound. 'Love Dealer' is quintessentially an upbeat record, full of joy, optimism and hope for the future”. Seek your inner ‘Love Dealer’, kink your ‘fro and let your funk flag fly.
















n B7. 14 Your Love (feat. Jonah Hitchens) BONUS TRACK














n B7. 14 Your Love (feat. Jonah Hitchens) BONUS TRACK














[n] B7. 14 Your Love (feat. Jonah Hitchens) [BONUS TRACK]














[BONUS TRACK]

Here to dazzle you by the power of the disco ball, Lack of Afro is your friendly neighbourhood ‘Love Dealer’. Two years on from the funk & soul rebirth of ‘Square One’, powered by the ubiquitous ‘Loving Arms’ featuring Greg Blackman, Lack of Afro aka Adam Gibbons is now close to two decades deep in the game with soundtrack credits galore and online streams doing calculator-busting numbers. With extensive touring taking ‘Love Dealer’ up and down the country this Autumn, Gibbons’ ninth studio album is all for "the thrill of seeing people on a dancefloor, all collectively locked into a track that you've produced - there’s nothing like it!”.


‘Love Dealer’ is the authentic modern disco experience, packing a stacked sole’s worth of club beats full of stardusted sing-alongs, style-outs and French touch-style cool. Despite being “written during one of the longest winters in living memory”, ‘Love Dealer’, featuring some co-production from fellow South Coast dancefloor scholar Flevans (and influenced by producer du jour Barry Can’t Swim), exudes warmth and will make you sweat when its highs take effect.


Entering the scene with the radiance of ‘Make It Shine’ featuring Greg Blackman, washing over the airwaves of BBC 6 Music and Radio 2 and taking up a 10-week residency on the Jazz FM playlist, Gibbons and his crack line-up of discotheque players are your go-to team when you can’t wait for the weekend to begin, as subtle as they are straight down to business. ‘Love Dealer’ offers you nothing but the best in sparkling string symphonies, the hippest guitar licks, samples of those invited beyond the velvet rope and struts soaked in night fever.


Double A-side ‘Walls Start Rockin’ and ‘Heart & Soul’ guide the album’s glamour-and-groove, while ‘Love Saves The Day’ and ‘Plain to See’ dramatically take to the podium in a shimmer of pure peak 70s theatre. ‘Keeping Me Strong’ is the synergy of disco chic and the sound of a global advertising tie-in with Dyson, ahead of Gibbons taking a slightly Moroder/Cerrone-ish detour on ‘Idolising People Like Madlib’. “'Love Dealer' is aimed unequivocally at the dancefloor" says Adam. "As an artist, I wanted to push myself in a slightly new direction - more into the land of disco and a four to the floor sound. 'Love Dealer' is quintessentially an upbeat record, full of joy, optimism and hope for the future”. Seek your inner ‘Love Dealer’, kink your ‘fro and let your funk flag fly.
















n B7. 14 Your Love (feat. Jonah Hitchens) BONUS TRACK














n B7. 14 Your Love (feat. Jonah Hitchens) BONUS TRACK














n B7. 14 Your Love (feat. Jonah Hitchens) [BONUS TRACK]














[n] B7. 14 Your Love (feat. Jonah Hitchens) [BONUS TRACK]














[n] B7. 14 Your Love (feat. Jonah Hitchens) [BONUS TRACK]














[n] B7. 14 Your Love (feat. Jonah Hitchens) [BONUS TRACK]

Finnish visionary composer, multi-instrumentalist and singer Jimi Tenor joins forces with the bold "Critical Ass" flash mob project from Switzerland to deliver the soundtrack for a truly global happening. The "Critical Ass" crew handpicked Love Is the Language from Jimi's rich catalogue, as the language of love is the metaphysical sun, which gives us the energy to continue the cosmic project called humanity from generation to generation.

The Critical Ass Version begins as a fresh reimagining of the original Love Is the Language, enriched with cinematic horn arrangements and a playful spirit. As it unfolds, the track transforms into a dystopian soundscape, driven by thundering synths and an insistent, forward-pushing beat.

The Koti Koti Version delivers a funky house treatment with clear nods to the '90s, guaranteed to set the dance floor ablaze.

Last but not least, the Original Version stands as a timeless gem of beauty, with the potential to become a true anthem of love.

Can you believe it? Devendra Banhart's Cripple Crow - originally released by XL in 2005 - is turning 20 years old. This was the 5th album from the Venezuelan American artist who is considered the pioneer of the "Freak Folk" and "New Weird America" movements. To celebrate - Devendra has compiled a reissue of the out of print release that features a 3rd Bonus LP (on Clear Green Smoke Vinyl) featuring 9 bonus tracks, including 1 B-Side, 5 previously unreleased demos, 2 previously unreleased live tracks, and 1 unearthed smash hit from the recording sessions. This release is the first on his newly created Heavy Flowers label. The album received a "Best New Music" 8.4 review from Pitchfork upon its release. The release date will fall 1 day prior to the actual 20th Anniversary, which will be the first time Devendra is early for anything. Now THAT is something to celebrate! Limited to 2000 units on 3xLP with Bonus LP on Clear Green Smoke Vinyl. 36 tracks of music and 1 track of .... well... you decide! "Cripple Crow is undoubtedly impressive, vastly singular but entirely accessible, and an inspired listening experience where Banhart again proves himself as one of the more talented and charismatic forces in modern music." - Pitchfork

A1 FORWARD
Was inspired by the revolution of the year of 1988 also referred to as the 2nd summer of love. Revolutions great and small are happening all around us all the time, and they take place in the minds of individuals.

A2 CHARANJIT DRIVE
Describes the revolution i 've got in mind, angelic bass-string harmonic notes flying left and right, Indian-vocals, sudden sped-up dancehall baselines and breaks. Imagine a hippie a homeboy and a funky dread, hugging and dancing and telling their mates how much they love each other in a nice green field while this plays.

B1 HONDA WANDERER
A man in a blue honda civic is traveling through a misty world at a high velocity. Seeking that which is just hiding behind the next bend. I made this after a beautiful misty, raining/sunshine rainbow ride on the autobahn. I had just picked up a cheap mutron bi-phase which was sitting beside me in the passenger seat. It was amazing.

B2 MISTY VALLEY
It's time to get a little bit serious, this one feels like the place where i made all of this music, the village of Ruigoord, covered in a thick winter fog. The remnants of a possible previous reincarnation of myself as an 80s new-beat producer are haunting this music.

all music & artwork by Mozes Meijer, mastering: Wouter Brandenburg, cut: Dubplates & Mastering a&r: Arne Cinema Royale Visser.

Illusive Bristolian producer Claude Cooper returns with ‘Friendly Sounds Vol 1’; part psychedelic trip, part romping beat tape, part party. The album was inspired by the vinyl discoveries made from Cooper’s months of digging and cataloguing the bulging inventory of Bedminster’s Friendly Records record shop. Cooper fed these myriad captured sounds through the studio and then, blurring the lines between sampling and performance, arranged and embellished them with keyboards, drum machines, bass guitar and more, also co-opting BEAK> bassist Billy Fuller and esteemed composer Ben Salisbury to contribute.

With most of the tracks in and out within 90 seconds, the album is best enjoyed as a continuous course. Play side A, play the B, then flip it back and listen all over again. Stand out moments include tremulous cut ‘n’ paste jam ‘Jackie’, the moody string-laden ‘Rainbow Eternity’, funky sitar workout ‘Nerd Nork’, and atmospheric closer ‘Take Flight’. Sharing a similarly broad and experimental sound palette as the likes The Avalanches, Madlib, The Go Team, and Edan; ‘Friendly Sounds Vol 1’ is the soundtrack to a wild joyride down South Bristol’s North Street, foot on the gas, hand on the horn, LPs spilling from the boot.

Cooper’s irrepressible debut album ‘Myriad Sounds' (Jan ‘22) caught the attention of the UK's press and radio alike. Mojo's four star review described it as “Bristol’s beat scene backdrops late night jams”, Uncut enjoyed the "rugged psych-funk romp" and Louder than War declared "it’s vital and vibrant and exactly what we need to kick start the year”. Bonus round 'More Myriad Sounds' (Apr ‘23) added Brooklyn vocalist Brain Fog to the melange with a bounty of pyretic vocal performances. DJ Mag called it “A fierce, kaleidoscopic trip” while Bandcamp Daily said “This album of cross-genre influences is as likely to get it included in any number of best-of columns, with the theme of serious fun as their common element”. Called a "mysterious Bristol breaks scientist" by Lauren Laverne, BBC radio DJs including Cerys Matthews, Gideon Coe, Huw Stephens, Jamie Cullum, Stuart Maconie, and Tom Ravenscroft have rinsed Cooper’s tracks, with Huey Morgan inviting Cooper to contribute a Block Party Mix for his show.



‘Stay A While’, the first showing of Cooper’s new shop sampling stunners, was released on 7” in January ‘24. Lush string flourishes sliced with 6Ts girl-group vocals and rollicking piano chords resulted in a dreamy, end of night, lights up anthem in-the-making that The Arts Desk called “A horn-fired, beatsy, chop-around that recalls The Avalanches”. Releasing the album is Friendly Records, the best little record shop in Bristol and now a burgeoning record label. Opened by Tom Friend on North Street in 2016, it’s gone on to become a hub of the local musical community. As well as Claude Cooper, the label has released LPs by Alison Cotton, Floating World Pictures, Christian Madden & The Enemy Chorus, Nick Craft, as well as handling the War Child series of 7”s with BEAK>, Idles, J Dilla, PJ Harvey, Portishead, and Sleaford Mods + Hot Chip.



Claude Cooper will DJ at the one-day Friendly Festival on 10th May in aid of War Child, which will feature Sleaford Mods, Katy J Pearson, The 45s, Zalizo and DJ sets by Ishmael Ensemble, Heavenly Jukebox and Friendly Records DJs.

Portland's contemporary music makers and the city's historic Black music community come together on this new remix project which draws from the Albina Music Trust's archive. Across the long player, the artist reinvents the sounds of Portland's Black musicians with a modern beat-based sensibility, all of which subtly pay homage to the 1968 "Soul Assembly" program by the Black Student Union which educated audiences about Black Portland's cultural identity. Among many standouts are reimagined works by Jonny Cool, Jumbo of The Lifesavas and Tony Ozier who do a fine job of bridging generations and highlighting Portland's rich heritage.

Apollo / R&S are delighted to welcome back The Primitive Painter, aka the duo of Roman Flügel and Jörn Elling Wuttke for a timely reissue of their 1994 lost classic self-titled album of sonorous IDM.

Growing up in Frankfurt, in the 80s and 90s the duo met at an indie rock club in their home town of Darmstadt, bonding over their shared obsession with the first wave of acid, Chicago house and early Detroit techno as well as their patronage of now iconic Frankfurt club nights like The Omen or Dorian Gray or the infamous Delirium Record shop run by scene stalwarts Ata (Robert Johnson) and Heiko MSO (Playhouse).

Taking inspiration from the likes of The Black Dog and Transmat as well as seminal compilations such as Planet E’s Intergalactic Beats and Warp’s Artificial intelligence compilation the duo honed their inventive take on the Detroit techno blueprint under the monicker Acid Jesus, debuting on their freshly minted Klang Elektronik label. The label was started in conjunction with Ata and Heiko after Fluegel & Wuttke (regular patrons of the Delirium store) pressed a demo on them, muttering the immortal line; “Please listen to the tape, we are big Mr. Fingers fans.”

Through the mid ’90s the project flourished giving rise to a classic album and a brace of singles that number amongst the best of the era’s techno, winning them a influential fans most notably Sven Väth, David Holmes and Andrew Weatherall who invited them to play live at one of the legendary Sabresonic parties in London.

Alongside the success of the Acid Jesus project, the duo found great inspiration in outside of the club, including an ambient happening when the KLF came to play Frankfurt; “There were live sheep eating grass on stage while they played at Mark Spoon’s club XS”, as well as cinematic influence from the likes of Jim Jarmush and Wim Wenders. It was however the euphonic IDM grandeur of Apollo Recordings self titled compilation of 1993 that really got their creative juices flowing: “It was a ten track compilation with artists like David Morley, Model 500, Aphex Twin which still sounds so good today,” Jörn enthuses. “ It was really the trigger to go away from the Detroit sound and more towards the big melodies of B12 etc.”

Deciding to make their tribute to this style of music the duo turned out 10 tracks of gauzy, melodious electronica in a white hot fever, one after another over the ensuing months. Settling on a name for the new project they picked ‘The Primitive Painters’ taking inspiration from the band Felt. “We are both children of the C86 movement,” explains Jörn. “this attitude of noisy art school influenced rock like Primal Scream, MBV, The Jesus & Mary Chain really inspired us to take a DIY approach to our music.”

They sent the resulting demo cassette to Renaat at R&S / Apollo. “We really had no expectations,” Jörn explains. “So we were shocked and delighted when we received a fax saying that he wanted to release it”.

The resulting release was bungled by an R&S mix up that attributed the album to the duo’s own Klang Elektronik label which confused both fans and distributors alike, denying the release the critical boost and attention that it so richly deserved. Accordingly the release slipped out without much fanfare, with a chastened Fluegel & Wuttke returning to their Acid Jesus activities which would eventually lead to their blockbusting success as Alter Ego.

Over the ensuing years the reputation of The Primitive Painter album has only grown, with second hand copies (only 500 vinyl were pressed) changing hands for exorbitant amounts on Discogs, leading us to this opportune moment of a richly deserved ‘first’ release on the label for which the project was started, Apollo / R&S.

“This really brings us full circle,” says Jörn. “Apollo / R&S meant and means so much to us as artists and so it was bittersweet to not have the official release - to put that right all these years later feels really good.”

This new vinyl release comes in re-created original gatefold artwork and includes all original 10 tracks (Stoned Soul Picnic was previously on the CD only).

Joni Void, the artistic persona of Montréal-based French-British producer Jean Néant (he/them) returns to songcraft on their warmest and most welcoming record yet, where the acclaimed sampledelic sound collagist chills out with an emotionally resonant song cycle tinged by downtempo, lo-fi, avant-pop, and trip-hop. Guests include Haco, Ytamo, Sook-Yin Lee, Pink Navel and N NAO. Every Life Is A Light expands on Void's recent stylistic turn towards more languorous and mellow lo-fi production, foreshadowed by the drifting looseness and ambient bricolage of their preceding experimental sound-art record. This transitional sensibility now shapes more defined song structures and styles, with loops are given time and space to unspool, and rhythms shot through the softer-focus lens of trip-hop and dub. Every Life Is A Light swaps the twitchy insistence of Void's acclaimed early albums for a newfound lightness and suppleness, still imbued with all the restlessness, sonic detailing, and emotional resonance that made their name. The neurotic brokenmachine kinetics of earlier Void, summarized by Sasha Geffen as "drawing despair and wonder from within the vast unfeeling of digital communication" in an 8.0 Pitchfork review, may be chilling out, but Void is becoming an ever better conjurer of hauntological feeling. Every Life Is A Light summons this in a comparatively buoyant, benevolent, head-nodding journey more open to tenderness and modest joys. Perhaps it's the sound of Void at greater peace with themselves and the world, despite the bittersweet cost: even as it channels grief, memorializing comrades and companions recently deceased, this album wants light. Void's raw materials continue to draw heavily from samples (their own Walkman cassette fieldrecordings and songs by others) and from a wide community of musical guests. Vocalists Haco on "Time Zone" and Ytamo on "Cloud Level" help levitate what could be lost tracks from a mid-90s Too Pure Records compilation of skewed-lounge electronica. Canadian musician Sook-Yin Lee sings on lead single "Vertigo," a sinewy 80bpm tape-loop and bassline groove propelled by psychedelically-layered lyrics that eventually turn the song in on itself entirely, like Grace Jones' "Nightclubbing" covered by Animal Collective. One of Void's greatest hip-hop loves is the Ruby Yacht collective; charter member Pink Navel drops some brilliant verses on "Story Board." The album's two minimal tracks, an extended piano loop set to a slow beat and shimmering electronics on "Muffin-A Song For My Cat" and the languid sampled bass riff and breakbeat of "Event Flow," are perhaps most overtly `lofi chill.' Indeed the whole album could be said to sit adjacent to those viral (if not already AI-generated) genre trends, which maybe begs the question on a lot of our minds: can specificity and authenticity of musical materials still be heard, still meaningfully signify substance and difference, still matter? Perhaps a question that fades in comparison to the career break Void could catch by landing on generic streaming playlists. More likely, these tracks remain too off-kilter, too genuinely lo-fi and ineffable, and too disqualified by the status of its peasant rights-holders, to catch the algos. Context remains the poor cousin of content. Meanwhile Void marches on, as a tireless organizer of local music events, bouncing around and often living in DIY venue, depending on the latest apartment eviction. With an ubiquitous polaroid camera in tow, they also document each communal happening with a single shot (and often a blinding flash bulb): a memory and metaphor for lives illuminated preciously, singularly, `imperfectly' in the moment. Dozens of these polaroids adorn the album's back cover and inner sleeve art in grid-like montages, as a fitting analog for the careful construction, grainy intimate materiality, and ephemeral feeling of these songs. Every Life Is A Light is Joni Void's most coherent and congenial record while relinquishing none of their experimentalist acumen as a producer or emotional attunement as a composer. Instead these qualities flourish, on an album that lights a humble flame for the fragile promise of homespun creative collaboration as unalienated labour and therapeutic communion, making an enchantingly idiosyncratic contribution to downtempo sample music along the way. Thanks for listening.

Volume 1 of this expertly curated project of 90s Italian House - put together by Don Carlos.

If Paradise was half as nice… by Fabio De Luca.

Googling “paradise house”, the first results to pop up are an endless list of European b&b’s with whitewashed lime façades, all of them promising “…an unmatched travel experience a few steps from the sea”. Next, a little further down, are the institutional websites of a few select semi-luxury retirement homes (no photos shown, but lots of stock images of smiling nurses with reassuring looks). To find the “paradise house” we’re after, we have to scroll even further down. Much further down.

It feels like yesterday, and at the same time it seems like a million years ago. The Eighties had just ended, and it was still unclear what to expect from the Nineties. Mobile phones that were not the size of a briefcase and did not cost as much as a car? A frightening economic crisis? The guitar-rock revival?! Certainly, the best place to observe that moment of transition was the dancefloor. Truly epochal transformations were happening there. From America, within a short distance one from the other, two revolutionary new musical styles had arrived: the first one sounded a bit like an “on a budget” version of the best Seventies disco-music – Philly sound made with a set of piano-bar keyboards! – the other was even more sparse, futuristic and extraterrestrial. It was a music with a quite distinct “physical” component, which at the same time, to be fully grasped, seemed to call for the knotty theories of certain French post-modern philosophers: Gilles Deleuze, Félix Guattari, Paul Virilio... Both those genres – we would learn shortly after – were born in the black communities of Chicago and Detroit, although listening to those vinyl 12” (often wrapped in generic white covers, and with little indication in the label) you could not easily guess whether behind them there was a black boy from somewhere in the Usa, or a girl from Berlin, or a pale kid from a Cornish coastal town.

Quickly, similar sounds began to show up from all corners of Europe. A thousand variations of the same intuition: leaner, less lean, happier, slightly less intoxicated, more broken, slower, faster, much faster... Boom! From the dancefloors – the London ones at least, whose chronicles we eagerly read every month in the pages of The Face and i-D – came tales of a new generation of clubbers who had completely stopped “dressing up” to go dancing; of hot tempered hooligans bursting into tears and hugging everyone under the strobe lights as the notes of Strings of Life rose up through the fumes of dry ice (certain “smiling” pills were also involved, sure). At this point, however, we must move on to Switzerland.

In Switzerland, in the quiet and diligent town of Lugano, between the 1980s and 1990s there was a club called “Morandi”. Its hot night was on Wednesdays, when the audience also came from Milan, Como, Varese and Zurich. Legend goes that, one night, none less than Prince and Sheila E were spotted hiding among the sofas, on a day-off of the Italian dates of the Nude Tour… The Wednesday resident and superstar was an Italian dj with an exotic name: Don Carlos. The soundtrack he devised was a mixture of Chicago, Detroit, the most progressive R&B and certain forgotten classics of old disco music: practically, what the Paradise Garage in New York might have sounded like had it not closed in 1987. In between, Don Carlos also managed to squeeze in some tracks he had worked on in his studio on Lago Maggiore. One in particular: a track that was rather slow compared to the BPM in fashion at the time, but which was a perfect bridge between house and R&B. The title was Alone: Don Carlos would explain years later that it had to be intended both in the English meaning of “by itself” and like the Italian word meaning “halo”. That wasn’t the only double entendre about the song, anyway. Its own very deep nature was, indeed, double. On the one hand, Alone was built around an angelic keyboard pattern and a romantic piano riff that took you straight to heaven; on the other, it showcased enough electronic squelches (plus a sax part that sounded like it had been dissolved by acid rain) to pigeonhole the tune into the “junk modernity” section, aka the hallmark of all the most innovative sounds of the time: music that sounded like it was hand-crafted from the scraps of glittering overground pop.

No one knows who was the first to call it “paradise house”, nor when it happened. Alternative definitions on the same topic one happened to hear included “ambient house”, “dream house”, “Mediterranean progressive”… but of course none were as good (and alluring) as “paradise house”. What is certain is that such inclination for sounds that were in equal measure angelic and neurotic, romantic and unaffective, quickly became the trademark of the second generation of Italian house. Music that seemed shyly equidistant from all the rhythmic and electronic revolutions that had happened up to that moment (“Music perfectly adept at going nowhere slowly” as noted by English journalist Craig McLean in a legendary field report for Blah Blah Blah magazine). Music that to a inattentive ear might have sounded as anonymous as a snapshot of a random group of passers-by at 10AM in the centre of any major city, but perfectly described the (slow) awakening in the real world after the universal love binge of the so-called Second Summer of Love.

For a brief but unforgettable season, in Italy “paradise house” was the official soundtrack of interminable weekends spent inside the car, darting from one club to another, cutting the peninsula from North to centre, from East to West coast in pursuit of the latest after-hours disco, trading kilometres per hour with beats per minute: practically, a new New Year’s Eve every Friday and Saturday night. This too was no small transformation, as well as a shock for an adult Italy that was encountering for the first time – thanks to its sons and daughters – the wild side of industrial modernity. The clubbers of the so-called “fuoriorario” scene were the balls gone mad in the pinball machine most feared by newspapers, magazines and TV pundits. What they did each and every weekend, apart from going crazy to the sound of the current white labels, was linking distant geographical points and non-places (thank you Marc Augé!) – old dance halls, farmhouses and business centres – transformed for one night into house music heaven. As Marco D’Eramo wrote in his 1995 essay on Chicago, Il maiale e il grattacielo: “Four-wheeled capitalism distorts our age-old image of the city, it allows the suburbs to be connected to each other, whereas before they were connected only by the centre (…) It makes possible a metropolitan area without a metropolis, without a city centre, without downtown. The periphery is no longer a periphery of any centre, but is self-centred”.

“Paradise house” perfectly understood all of this and turned it into a sort of cyber-blues that didn’t even need words, and unexpectedly brought back a drop of melancholic (post?)-humanity within a world that by then – as we would wholly realise in the decades to come – was fully inhuman and heartless. A world where we were all alone, and surrounded by a sinister yellowish halo, like a neon at the end of its life cycle. But, for one night at least, happy.

Following a four-year hiatus from solo releases, the British musician Matt Karmil returns with the soft-focus gentle beauty and subtly stealthy beats of new LP, ‘No Going Back’.

With inspired moments of creation happening incrementally, the album came together amidst a busy mixing/remixing/ mastering/co-production schedule. Artists who’ve enlisted his^multiple skills includes Bicep, Underworld, Mall Grab, Jayda G, DJ Koze, Neneh Cherry, Sofia Kourtesis, DJ Fett Burger, Matias Aguayo and Carmen Villain.

Feeling the benefits of this new approach, ‘No Going Back’ is the strongest expression of Matt's artistic vision to date, honing the spectrum of styles for which he’s renowned, all smudged together by a warm, gauzy haze. The microhouse anthem ‘SFP’ is followed by the broken tech science of ‘No Going Back’, the spectral dub techno spookiness of ‘Old Haunts’ and the sublime misty shimmer of ‘The Last Time’.

Further switching things up is the oddball dancefloor experimentalism of ‘Still Something There,’ the washed-out electroid balm of ‘Things Really Happen’, and the epic dark ambient closer ’15 mins’.

J. Written has been preparing for this moment almost his entire life. From early on he has been writing. You might even say he was obsessed with writing. It did not matter what he was writing, he just felt compelled to write. Hence the name Written.
Born on January 18, 1994 (yes, he will gladly accept birthday greetings!) in the Payne Land neighborhood of Kingston, Jamaica, J. Written entered this world as Jason Rasheed Wright. Due to certain financial instability in his family they had moved around a bit to various locations within the Kingston area. His parents, wanting him to be safe, encouraged him to be at home with his two sisters and to occupy his time at home he began to write. And write and write. And write some more.
He would write daily journals and even create newspaper articles written on the walls of their home. This creative outlet gave way to writing poems, speeches and essays while a student in high school. At 16 he started a dance trope known as the ACEZ dancers who were quite popular around Kingston.
He was then drawn to music around age 18 and began to create beats at a studio in Trench Town. He became part of the Trench Town community and is still very connected with the people there. His drive to write songs became his new medium for expressing himself. And this has led to him being recorded for various producers and included in the song “Fear To Understand” with Albarosie. Other songs and music videos followed and J. Written was brought to the attention of reggae producer Doctor Dread.
“When I first saw a video with J. Written and began to listen to more of his songs I knew this was a unique artist with a special vibe and a knack for writing interesting songs” says Doctor Dread. So he came to Jamaica and produced a first album “Kaleidoscope” for J. Written which is due for release in late 2024.

“My mission is to be active and positive. Not to confirm with the norm. To sometimes make people feel uncomfortable with issues impacting our community and society at large. To give thought to what is happening in the world and presently around us”. J. Written has made his intentions clear and it is revealed through his music.
And of special note is that J. Written has a role in the Bob Marley movie “One Love” as Junior Braithwaite, a member of the early Wailers in the scene when the young Wailers first come to audition for Coxsone Dodd of Studio One.
The future is bright for J. Written. He is creating music and lyrics as a constant in his life. And now the world will be able to share in his vision of creative expression.

Repress

Songs ’94-’98 is a smart selection of material from The Cat’s Miaow, an Australian indie-pop group that gifted their decade with some of its finest songs. Released on World Of Echo, the album draws from the group’s string of excellent seven-inch singles, a small clutch of compilation contributions, and features one previously unreleased song, “I Take It That We’re Through”, recorded in 1998. Part of the burgeoning international pop underground of the nineties, The Cat’s Miaow’s legend has only built over subsequent decades, as more people discover this most quixotic and curious of groups: a recent appearance on A Colourful Storm’s compilation of Australian indie-pop, I Won’t Have To Think About You, is testament to their enduring influence. In part emulating the selection of tracks on the 1997 CD-only compilation, Songs For Girls To Sing, Songs ’94-’98 is also the group’s first ever full-length 12” vinyl collection. The Cat’s Miaow started out in 1992 as a home-recording duo, Bart Cummings (guitar, bass, vocals) and Andrew Withycombe (bass, guitar) taking time out from duties with Girl Of The World and The Ampersands (respectively), knocking out songs on Withycombe’s four-track. Soon joined by Kerrie Bolton (vocals) and Cam Smith (drums), the quartet spent the next five years quietly, slowly working away in the suburbs of Melbourne, recording gem after gem of independent pop. Like many of their Australian precursors or peers – The Particles, Even As We Speak, The Cannanes – The Cat’s Miaow were more successful overseas, a sadly typical phenomenon within the Australian musical landscape. The Cat’s Miaow were always worldly and stylish, anyway, each seven-inch single a refined artifact, each song a peaceable jewel. You could hear some relationships with other music – someone (if not everyone) in The Cat’s Miaow was a Galaxie 500 fan; there’s a minimalism to the playing and melodies that recalls Young Marble Giants, Marine Girls, Beat Happening – but the spirit in these songs is endearingly individualised, the result of a hermetic vision, an ideal of what a simple, unadorned pop song could be. They had a winning way with simplicity, songs like “Autumn”, “Crying” and “I Can’t Sleep Thinking You Hate Me” passing by in the blink of a moistened eye, and when they stretched out, as on “Firefly”, you can hear hints of the drifting ambience they’d perfect in their other band, Hydroplane. It’s not much of a surprise that The Cat’s Miaow found a receptive audience, and no small amount of support, from the networked communities of indie-pop labels and fanatics that developed in the nineties – they released records on imprints like Drive-In, Darla, Bus Stop and Quiddity, shared a flexi-disc with Stereolab, and appeared on countless compilations over the years. But they also understood the importance of the local: their first few cassettes reached the world’s mail routes via Wayne Davidson’s legendary Melbourne tape label, Toytown; they turned up on a split single with Davidson’s group, Stinky Fire Engine; they appeared on a tribute cassette for one of Australia’s finest, The Sugargliders, and indeed that’s Josh Meadows of said group playing wah guitar on “Stay”. The Cat’s Miaow also rarely played live – one launch gig, for the Munch video compilation, and a few parties – which is a great way to maintain mystique. Cosmopolitan yet homely, dedicated to their craft, The Cat’s Miaow always felt a little like a group moving in slow motion, using that pace and focus fully to embrace the art of the perfectly stated pop song – every element in place, no flash and no fuss, no excess, just the core of the thing. Few managed to tease such fierce poetry from such understated, elegant means. From Australia or anywhere.

“Joe McPhee’s first international release, Black Magic Man, was issued on the newly formed Hat Hut imprint in 1975. It was a watershed moment for the 35-year-old musician. Based in Poughkeepsie, New York, he was too far away from Manhattan to have participated extensively in the Loft Jazz happenings of the decade. European exposure, however, would give McPhee an alternative circuit, something of an escape route from the trappings of American cultural myopia. “In support of the new record for this Swiss label, McPhee invited John Snyder on a European tour in October 1975. Snyder was a synthesizer player with whom McPhee had made the duet LP Pieces Of Light, released a year earlier on CjR. The two musicians developed an extensive repertoire, playing diverse spaces in the Hudson Valley. Geographically close gigs were a plus, since it took extra energy to hoist Snyder’s ARP 2600. “McPhee and Snyder were invited to play at the Willisau Jazz Festival in Switzerland. If you compare this live record with Pieces Of Light, a studio effort, it’s considerably more open. South African drummer Makaya Ntshoko is rolling thunder on the choral ‘Voices,’ shuffling under Snyder’s bubbly beat on ‘Bahamian Folksong.’ It is quite a special combination, enough so that Hat Hut chose to release it as their next LP, Hat Hut B in their alphabetical series. The Willisau Concert represents the sound of Joe McPhee opening up, opening out, expanding his field of operations to include new figures, fresh experiences, new continents of sound.” —John Corbett (excerpt from the liner notes)

Finally, it‘s happening: the „other“ Gerd appears on Running Back. Not counting in his remix for Losoul‘s Open Door and not to be confused with the label owner Gerd Janson. Based in the Netherlands and strongly associated with the Clone complex, Gerd has been releasing countless tracks and records since the dawn of the nineties. A true child of the „techno“ Zeitgeist back then, he is keeper of a dozen monikers, project names and joint ventures that tend to connect the dots between house and techno, functionality and avantgarde electronics. Gerd‘s frame of mind is second to none, when it comes to sound research, inspiration and imagination.
For Running Back he decided to put his own spin on some of the label’s signature dishes.
The opener Dance of Enjoyment is exactly that. Based on a cleared sample from Shakira by Quinton Madlala and imported by early South African kwaito and house, it is exactly that. Life-affirming dance-floor fun or pogo time for piano people.

Let the Music Take Control dials the peak time slightly back to being a party starter with its retrofuturistic speak and spell command and some evergreen breakbeats. An additional DJ tool allows to spread the gospel elsewhere, too.

Speaking of which, the flipside deals with that in the realm of an Italian influenced theme park. Sitting neatly between the disco and the house appendix of “italo“, Change Of Heart and Digital Illusion are sugar frosted and masterful produced versions of a style that might never go out of fashion. Earnest characters might be happy with the included bonus beats on their own. All’s well that ends well: Gerd and Running Back are here to save a party near you!