Cerca:body futures

Body Mechanic has been turning out definitive Motor City techno on solid labels like Cryovac, and GASS for several years. This time out he lands-on Detroit Techno and serves up, well, some electro. It's classic 313 tackle though - heavy on the kicks, snappy snares and filthy dirty basslines that make you want to move. Ghoulish vocals add extra grit to the opener and from there 'Dance' gets more playful with jittery drum funk and scratching, 'Beautiful Bum' has a gorgeously tender and reflective vibe thanks to the minor chords and smooth electro rhythms, 'Magic (feat Tay) ' slips into a deep and soulful house groove and 'Househead' is jacked up, loopy and well swung amongst several more timeless cuts. All in all, a killer double 12".

Josh Burke is a guitarist/keyboardist/programmer from Chicago, USA, who specialises in a music that could, perhaps, best be described as an amalgamation of drone, kosmische and ambient, all with a distinctly euphoric flavour, as though these sounds were channelled rather than thoroughly composed.

He has over 30 solo releases to his name as well as splits with Jeffrey Astin (of Xiphiidae), Spirals and Body Morph, and also - like most of his peers - operates under several additional aliases - Ocean Diamond, Futuresport, The Masque, Silk Fountain, 56K, Sky Limousine and Nehal Shah - as well as ensemble and collaborative projects including Bermuda Link, Cartoon Drips, White Prism, Practical Applications Of The Chaossphere, Starfox, Camp Crystal Lake and Holographic Communications Of The Third Sky.

Laurel Halo returns with an album of original soundtrack music, composed for the film Midnight Zone by visual artist Julian Charrière. Following the path of a drifting Fresnel lighthouse lens as it descends through the Clarion-Clipperton Fracture Zone — a remote abyssal plain in the Pacific Ocean, rich in rare metals and increasingly targeted for deep-sea mining — the film traces a descent into one of Earth’s last untouched ecosystems.


Charrière’s film reveals the deep not as void, but as a luminous biome teeming with fragile life: bioluminescent creatures, swirling schools of fish, and elusive predators. The suspended lens becomes an abyssal campfire, attracting species caught in the tides of uncertainty, their futures hanging in the balance.


Echoing this tension, Halo’s compositions evoke a sensory freefall, where gravity falters and light and sound flicker in uncertain rhythms. Midnight Zone is a sonic drift through the space between what we seek to extract, fail to understand, and must protect.


Halo’s score evokes the life that exists beyond our physical airbound capacity. The material features long, subtle passages of electro-acoustic ambient, drone and sound design, slowly flowing and unfolding with rich detail. The music, composed largely on a Montage 8 synthesizer and Yamaha TransAcoustic piano at the Yamaha studios in New York City, possesses an uncanny quality: that of synthetic waveforms being amplified and sung through the stringboard of the physical body of the TransAcoustic piano. Combined with stacks of violin and viol da gamba, the music on Midnight Zone possesses trace elements of a human hand in an otherwise sunken landscape. Patient, submerged, and alive. The album will be the third on Halo’s imprint, Awe.


The film is central to Charrière’s current solo exhibition Midnight Zone. The exhibition engages with underwater ecologies, exploring the complexity of water as an elemental medium affected by anthropogenic degradation. Reflecting upon its flow and materiality, profundity and politics, its mundane and sacral dimensions, the solo show acts as a kaleidoscope, inviting us to dive deep.

Baby Rose makes healing music for the aimless and heartbroken. The Grammy-nominated singer/songwriter and producer's uniquely rich voice naturally lends itself to her powerful, smoke-filled ballads lamenting lost loves and broken futures. "I make music to help myself get through things," she says. The piercing honesty and vulnerability she brings to her lyrics in turn helps others process their feelings and find a place of healing. For Rose, it's a journey that's still ongoing. "If I'm going to leave anything behind, it's going to be getting people back to themselves," she says. "As I get back to myself, it's a constant reset: Remember who you are, remember who you want to be." You can hear the impact of this approach in Baby Rose's upcoming second album, Through and Through. Take the hypnotic "Fight Club." Over the track's simmering baseline and crashing cymbals, she declares, "I don't need no one else to show me the way." She describes the song as a "breaking of the shell. It encourages me to just go for it and not care about what anyone else thinks." Therein lies Baby Rose's strength: a determination to live, love, and create on her own terms. "I'm not just a singer with a unique voice," she says. "I'm somebody that has something to say." In the years since releasing her last album, To Myself, Rose has been painstakingly piecing together its sequel. Started almost immediately after its release, her new body of work finds her in a state of musical and personal transition. It's a subtle merging of new sounds_stirring rock, upbeat r&b, psychedelic funk, pop, and soulful ballads_, all mastered through analog tape to make the music feel warmer and all-encompassing. It's also a journey inward as she battles past fear and self-doubt to finally discover_and love_who she is, where she is. Finishing an album with such peace and firm resolution is a first for Rose, but she makes it clear: She's nowhere near done writing her story. "I think as long as I'm being raw and trying to push past my comfort zone, it will feel rewarding," she says. "I don't want to be the type that doesn't take risks because I'm afraid. I have to trust that as long as the music is honest and innovative, it'll be timeless."

A killer fusion of bass, poetry and social consciousness from the King Midas Sound vocalist.

Roger Robinson is one of the most versatile voices in the dub poetry scene today, seamlessly blending the power of the written word with the raw energy of the soundsystem.

Teaming up once again with Dub wizard Disrupt to conclude an album trilogy that began with “Dis Side Ah Town” and “Dog Heart City“, Robinson pulls a wide range of riddims straight from the Jahtari vaults to create “Heavy Vibes“, a killer fusion of bass, poetry, and social consciousness.

With a voice oscillating between soulful falsetto and deep poetry thunder Robinson’s verses hit as hard as the bass, challenging the listener to confront uncomfortable truths, while Disrupt’s richly textured, dub-heavy production ensures the music moves both body and mind. You’ll find yourself dancing, but more importantly, you’ll find yourself thinking.

Coming with stunning cover art by Kiki Hitomi and featuring deadly riddims by Tapes, Naram, Jura Soundsystem, Maffi and Bo Marley, “Heavy Vibes” balances the weight of oppression with a glimmer of hope – the belief that change is possible, that the beat goes on, and that through solidarity and art, new futures can be forged.

For fans of: Spectrum / Recurring Era Spacemen 3, Loop, AR Kane, MBV, bdrmm, Cocteau Twins, Telescopes and early 90s Creation records.

Following a series of meditative explorations in the form of the Singularity Zone series of releases, The Oscillation have returned with a new sense of vigour and purpose. Refreshed and re-energized, the result is The Start Of The End, an album that casts more light and shade than ever before to create a mood of hope and re-birth.

At once warm and welcoming, The Start Of The End is an album quite unlike anything that The Oscillation have ever released before. Fuelled by optimism and taking stock of what’s good about life and what needs to be jettisoned, the record is a result of spiritual and physical re-charging and cleansing.

Leaving the claustrophobic environs of the big city for a more bucolic backdrop, the change in location has left a profound mark on Demian Castellanos, the creative force behind The Oscillation. Where the exorcism of dark emotions of previous album Untold Futures left Castellanos wondering if he’d ever make music again, his new surroundings stirred something within him.

“When I made my new home, I allowed myself time to do nothing for a while,” says Castellanos, “and I then started some new songs without worrying about them being on an album. I just wrote with the mindset to put out something positive.”

He continues: “I did a lot of reflecting on the past and really wanted to change something in myself, but not knowing how and thinking that a lot of people must be feeling the same way.”

Recalling the creation of The Start Of The End, Castellanos says, “Writing and recording in an environment where I had little contact with people, no hanging out or partying or even having conversations was very interesting.”

The result is an album that’s recognisably the work of The Oscillation while pointing to a variety of new directions. Be it the celestial majesty of the title track, the melodic infusions that drive opening track ‘War On The Mind’ or the pulsing grooves underpinning ‘Faraway’ and ‘Body Electric’ or even hypnotic repetition at the heart of ‘Mantra’ and ‘The Eternal’, this music brimming with zeal and confidence. And to crown it all, closer ‘Sovereign’ is akin to communing with angels.

The Start Of The End is a line in the sand and one that points to a better tomorrow.

Cybotron has re-emerged in our contemporary cybercultural age when artifactual futures begin a transition into a new era of "Meta".

By combining their knowledge of philosophy, science fiction, and mechanical engineering, at a time when electronic instrument companies were only just beginning to distribute their products to the masses, two prosumer audio technicians named Juan Atkins and Rik Davis were able to re-engineer Cybotron – a combination of the words “Cyborg” and “Cyclotron” (an atomic particle accelerator) – to be used as a home studio performance music that would change the course of independently produced and distributed electronic music.

Dissolving the boundary between singer, songwriter, and producer, Juan Atkins named Cybotron’s future forward funkadelic sound “techno” in reference to Alvin Toffler’s concept of unlikely “techno rebels” against technocracy. Techno is music that sounds like technology, and its purpose was to help society survive our collision with a universally felt “future shock” by inserting an audio virus into the cultural matrix.

Techno’s blueprint spread across the Detroit-Berlin Axis between Metroplex and Tresor. As human society began its transition from a post-industrial to an information-based market economy, Cybotron enabled a thorough system override of the human senses towards a tangible man-machine hybridity and showed the world how to channel their emotions and imaginations into new sound technologies and create new ‘sonic’ spatialities where listeners can transport themselves out of the physical world into the future. The cover of their debut album Enter (1983) transmitted a fragmented view of a body in motion being digitized mid-stride, dissolving physical and virtual reality into sonic fiction.

Today, the man-machine hybridity of Cybotron is still the truest form of techno, coevolving in conversation with the technological music they created and inspired. The latest data disk marks a new chapter that reflects a techgnostic musical expression of the knowledge acquired during their decades-long hiatus. Unlike the dance music industrial replications of the Model 500 formula, acknowledging the content marketing expectations that segments music into specific, sellable genres, this techno music is self-aware. Cybotron processes dance music tropes spawned from its very own blueprint with a meta-tactical precision out of sync with our current rave new world.

Cybotron’s return demonstrates a studied engagement with what techno was and should be with a peerless update of Juan Atkins’ initial inventive idea of do-it-yourself electrically reengineered music xeroxed onto both sides of the 12” – uploaded directly into the alleys of your mind.
- The Rhythmanalyst

A.R. Kive collates the three most astonishing works from that most miraculous of duos - A.R. Kane - comprising the ‘Up Home’ EP from 1988 that signified the band’s dawning realisation of their own powers and possibilities, their legendary debut LP ‘sixty nine’ (1988) and its kaleidoscopic, prophetic double-LP follow up ‘i’ (1989).

In founder-member Rudy Tambala’s new remastering, the music on these pivotal transmissions from the birth of dream pop, have been reinvigorated and re-infused with a new power, a new depth and intimacy, a new height and immensity. Vivid, timeless and yet always timely whenever they’re recalled, these records still force any listener to realise that despite the habits of retrospective myth-making and the
safe neutering effects of ‘genre’, thirty years have in no way dimmed how resistant and dissident to critical habits of categorisation A.R. Kane always were. Never quite ‘avant-pop’ or ‘shoegaze’ or ‘post-rock’ or any of those sobriquets designed to file and categorise, A.R. Kive is a reminder that those genres had to be coined, had to be invented precisely to contain the astonishing sound of A.R. Kane, because
previous formulations couldn’t come close to their sui generis sound and suggestiveness. This is music that pointed towards futures which a whole generation of artists and sonic explorers would map out. Now beautifully repackaged, remastered and fleshed out with extensive sleeve notes and accompanying materials, ‘A.R. Kive’ reveals that 35 years on it’s still a struggle to defuse the revolutionary and inspirational possibility of A.R. Kane’s music.

A.R. Kane were formed in 1986 by Rudy Tambala and Alex Ayuli, two second-generation immigrants who grew up together in Stratford, East London. From the off the pair were outsiders in the culturally mixed (cockney/Irish/West Indian/Asian) milieu of the East End, with Alex and Rudy’s folks first generation immigrants from Nigeria and Malawi, respectively. The two of them quickly developed and fostered an innate and near-telepathic mutual understanding forged in musical, literary and artistic exploration. Like a lot of second-generation immigrants, they were ferocious autodidacts in all kinds of areas, especially around music and literature. Diving deep into the music of afro-futurist luminaries such as Sun Ra, Miles Davis, Lee Perry and
Hendrix, as well as devouring the explorations of lysergic noise and feedback from contemporaries like Sonic Youth and Butthole Surfers, they also thoroughly immersed themselves in the alternate literary realities of sci-fi and ancient history (the fascination with the arcane that gave the band their name), all to feed their voracious cultural thirsts and intellectual curiosity.

It was seeing the Cocteau Twins performing on Channel 4 show the Tube that spurred A.R. Kane into being - “They had no drummer. They used tapes and technology and Liz Fraser looked completely otherworldly with those big eyes. And the noise coming out of Robin’s guitar! That was the ‘Fuck! We could do that! We could express ourselves like that!’ moment”, recalls Tambala - and through a mix of
confidence, chutzpah, ad hoc almost-mythical live shows and sheer innocent will the duo debuted with the astonishing ‘When You’re Sad’ single for One Little Indian in 1986. Immediately dubbed a ‘black Jesus & Mary Chain’ by a press unsure of WHERE to put a black band clearly immersed in feedback and noise, what was immediately apparent for listeners was just how much more was going on here - a
tapping of dub’s stealth and guile, a resonant umbilicus back to fusion and jazz, the music less a conjuration of past highs than a re-summoning of lost spirits.
The run of singles and EPs that followed picked up increasingly rapt reviews in the press, but it was the ‘Up Home EP’ released in 1988 on their new home, Rough Trade that really suggested something immense was about to break. Simon Reynolds noted the EP was: Their most concentrated slab of iridescent awesomeness and a true pinnacle of an era that abounded with astounding landmarks of guitar-reinvention, A.R. Kane at their most elixir-like.

If anything, the remastered ‘Up Home’ that forms the first part of ‘A.R. Kive’ is even more dazzling, even more startling than it was when it first emerged, and listening now you again wonder not just about how many bands christened ‘shoegaze’ tried to emulate it, but how all of them fell so far short of its lambent, pellucid wonder. This remains intrinsically experimental music but with none of the frowning orthodoxy those words imply. A.R. Kane, thanks to that second generation auto-didacticism were always supremely aware about the interstices of music and magic, but at the same time gloriously free in the way they explored that connection within their own sound, fascinated always with the creation of ‘perfect mistakes’ and the possibilities inherent in informed play.

‘sixty nine’ the group’s debut LP that emerged in 1988 had
critics and listeners struggling to fit language around A.R. Kane’s sound. As a title it was telling - the year of ‘Bitches Brew’, the year of ‘In A Silent Way’, the erotic möbius between two lovers - and as originally coined by the band themselves, ‘dream pop’ (before it became a free-floating signifier of vague import) was entirely apposite for the music A.R. Kane were making. Crafted in a dark small basement studio in which Tambala recalls the duo had “complete freedom - We wanted to go as far out as we could, and in doing so we discovered the point where it stops being music”. There was an irresistibly dreamy, somnambulant, sensual and almost surreal flow to ‘sixty nine’s sound, but also real darkness/dankness, the ruptures of the primordial and the reverberations of the subconscious, within the grooves of remarkable songs like ‘Dizzy’ and ‘Crazy Blue’. Alex’s plangent vocals floated and surged amidst exquisite peals of refracted feedback but crucially there was BASS here, lugubrious and funky and full of dread, sonic pleasure and sonic disturbance crushed together to make music with a center so deep it felt subcutaneous, music constructed from both the accidental and the deliberate, generous enough to dance with both serendipity and chaos. ‘sixty nine’ remains - especially in this remastered iteration - ravishing, revolutionary.

The final part of this ‘A.R. Kive’ contains 1989’s astonishing double-LP ‘i’ which followed up on ‘sixty nine’s promise and saw the duo fully unleash their experimental pop sensibilities over 26 tracks, plunging the A.R. Kane sound into a dazzlingly kaleidoscopic vision of pop experiment and play. Suffused with new digital technologies and combining searingly sweet and danceable pop with perhaps the duo’s strangest and boundary-pushing compositions, the album did exactly what a great double-set should do - indulge the artists sprawling pursuit of their own imaginations but always with a concision and an ear for those moments where pop both transcends and toys with the listeners expectations. Jason Ankeny has noted that “In retrospect, ‘i’ now seems like a crystal ball prophesying virtually every major musical development of the 1990s; from the shimmering techno of ‘A Love from Outer Space’ to the liquid dub of ‘What’s All This Then?’, from the alien drone-pop of ‘Conundrum’ to the sinister shoegazer miasma of ‘Supervixens’ — it’s all here, an underground road map for countless bands to follow.” Perhaps the most overwhelmingly all-encompassing transmission from A.R. Kane, ‘i’ bookended a three year period in which the duo had made some of the most prophetic and revelatory music of the entire decade.

After ‘i’ the duo’s output became more sporadic with Tambala and Ayuli moving in different directions both geographically and musically, with only 1994’s ‘New Clear Child’ a crystalline re-fraction of future and past echoes of jazz, folk and soul, before the duo went their separate ways. Since then, A.R. Kane’s music has endured, not thanks to the usual sepia’d false memories that seem to maintain interest in so much of the musical past, but because those who hear A.R. Kane music and are changed irrevocably, have to share that universe which A.R. Kane opened up, with anyone else who will listen. Far more than other lauded documents of the late 80s it still sounds astonishingly fresh, astonishingly livid and vivid and necessary and NOW.

Warmongers run the newspapers, the daily podcasts, the social media feeds. Capital creates and harvests our despair. Cultural heroes are as money-mad as bankers, standing on corpses, wearing diamonds. The songs of this age are hopeless. In this world of lies, Spider Bite celebrate truth: raw, ragged, and full of brave energy, bravely dreaming of possible futures in the immediate and active now, in this exact and ever active present: after the flood, in the ruins of love.

Spider Bite is the sound of Daniel Romano (The Outfit, Ancient Shapes, Attack In Black), Ian Romano (Daniel Romano’s Outfit, Career Suicide) and Steven Lambke (Constantines) returning to their roots in the thriving pit of DIY punk with a perspective, skill, and energy that can only be gained from long experience in music, art, and stubborn cultural creation. Spider Bite began in the depths of the first COVID-19 lockdown, a world poised between protests and rebellions, when a fearful silence held its breath, twitching the curtains, and strange imaginations ran unleashed through dark streets. Long-time collaborators Daniel Romano and Steven Lambke, who together established the artist run record label You’ve Changed Records in 2009, and monster drummer Ian Romano chose this moment to indulge their shared love of energetic street punk, releasing the self-titled debut as a Bandcamp-only release in May 2020. The album was enthusiastically embraced and even cracked the best of lists on some of the more adventurous independent music blogs.

But still. Time passes. More wars. More storms. More ruin caused by greed. Spider Bite reconvened in the spring of 2022, recording The Rainbow and The Dove, an album that assembles the wisdom teachings of punk elders into a passionate rejection of settler-colonialism, environmental racism, and the general exploitation of the world by monarchs and resource extraction companies. Every moment is historical. Spider Bite celebrate a continuity of protest and refusal, and the communal joy of loud energy. Animated by a surprising humor and immense instrumental power, Spider Bite create a vibrant portrait of living in violent times.

Baby Rose makes healing music for the aimless and heartbroken. The Grammy-nominated singer/songwriter and producer's uniquely rich voice naturally lends itself to her powerful, smoke-filled ballads lamenting lost loves and broken futures. "I make music to help myself get through things," she says. The piercing honesty and vulnerability she brings to her lyrics in turn helps others process their feelings and find a place of healing. For Rose, it's a journey that's still ongoing. "If I'm going to leave anything behind, it's going to be getting people back to themselves," she says. "As I get back to myself, it's a constant reset: Remember who you are, remember who you want to be." You can hear the impact of this approach in Baby Rose's upcoming second album, Through and Through. Take the hypnotic "Fight Club." Over the track's simmering baseline and crashing cymbals, she declares, "I don't need no one else to show me the way." She describes the song as a "breaking of the shell. It encourages me to just go for it and not care about what anyone else thinks." Therein lies Baby Rose's strength: a determination to live, love, and create on her own terms. "I'm not just a singer with a unique voice," she says. "I'm somebody that has something to say." In the years since releasing her last album, To Myself, Rose has been painstakingly piecing together its sequel. Started almost immediately after its release, her new body of work finds her in a state of musical and personal transition. It's a subtle merging of new sounds_stirring rock, upbeat r&b, psychedelic funk, pop, and soulful ballads_, all mastered through analog tape to make the music feel warmer and all-encompassing. It's also a journey inward as she battles past fear and self-doubt to finally discover_and love_who she is, where she is. Finishing an album with such peace and firm resolution is a first for Rose, but she makes it clear: She's nowhere near done writing her story. "I think as long as I'm being raw and trying to push past my comfort zone, it will feel rewarding," she says. "I don't want to be the type that doesn't take risks because I'm afraid. I have to trust that as long as the music is honest and innovative, it'll be timeless."

Nachdem Meg Remy, alias U.S. Girls, zuletzt schon in Form der Singles "So Typically Now" und "Bless This Mess" nach zweijähriger Abwesenheit neue Lebenszeichen aussendete, kündigt die kanadische multi-disziplinäre und experimentelle Pop-Künstlerin nun auch ihr neues Album an! "Bless This Mess" erscheint am 24. Februar 2023 bei 4AD und zeugt von der langen künstlerischen Evolution, die Remy unter ihrem musikalischen Alter Ego vollzogen hat: Eigentlich geboren in Illinois, hat sich Remy in den letzten Jahren zu einer der Stimmen und Performer*innen der Torontoer Szene entwickelt. Von den ersten Anfängen in Kellern in Philadelphia und Chicago, als sie durch Delay-Pedals über rohe Loops summte, hin zur selbstbewussten Frontfrau eines achtköpfigen Art-Soul-Orchesters, das die Welt bereist, hat die Vision, sowie das Talent Remys das Projekt über die letzten 15 Jahre zusammengehalten und geprägt. Mit "Half Free" (2015), "In A Poem Unlimited" (2018) und "Heavy Light" (2020) veröffentlichte sie drei Juno Award nominierte Alben (in der Kategorie "Best Alternative Album"), die auch jeweils auf der Shortlist für den Polaris Prize standen. Und das neuste U.S. Girls Album fügt der eh schon ausufernden Palette an Einflüssen, Themen und Sounds noch Bausteine wie Funk, ihre Mutterschaft, griechische Mythologie, langsame Jams, Erwachen und Schmerzen in das lebhafte Hymnen-Treiben hinzu! "Bless This Mess" entstand dabei, während in Remy ihre beiden Zwillings-Jungs heranwuchsen, in Kooperation mit einer ganzen Reihe an Musikern (Alex Frankel von Holy Ghost!, Marker Starling, Ryland Blackinton von Cobra Starship, Basia Bulat, Roger Manning Jr. von Jellyfish und Beck), sowie mithilfe einiger Tontechniker (Neal H Pogue, Ken Sluiter, Steve Chahley, Maximilian Turnbull). Da es weder eine feste Band noch immer gleiches Aufnahme-Personal während der Produktion gab, fühlt sich das neue Album vielmehr wie ein Mixtape an, gleichzeitig befindet sich Remy darauf selbst im stetigen Wandel. Denn während sich ihr Körper der Schwangerschaft anpasst, verändert sich auch ihre Stimme, verlor etwas Raum zum Atmen, bei einigen Gesangsaufnahmen waren ihre Neugeborenen sogar auf ihrem Arm. Keine Überraschung, dass Remy sogar ihre Milchpumpe auf "Pump" sampelte. Und doch beinhaltet das neue Album so viel mehr - mehr Blut, mehr Gefühle, die miteinander verflochtenen Wunder und Wunden des Lebens. Dementsprechend variieren auch die Songs in Tempo, Instrumentierung und geben sich zwischen experimenteller Hingabe, Entdeckungen und Delirium der aktuellen Gefühlslage der Künstlerin hin.

Red Vinyl

Nachdem Meg Remy, alias U.S. Girls, zuletzt schon in Form der Singles "So Typically Now" und "Bless This Mess" nach zweijähriger Abwesenheit neue Lebenszeichen aussendete, kündigt die kanadische multi-disziplinäre und experimentelle Pop-Künstlerin nun auch ihr neues Album an! "Bless This Mess" erscheint am 24. Februar 2023 bei 4AD und zeugt von der langen künstlerischen Evolution, die Remy unter ihrem musikalischen Alter Ego vollzogen hat: Eigentlich geboren in Illinois, hat sich Remy in den letzten Jahren zu einer der Stimmen und Performer*innen der Torontoer Szene entwickelt. Von den ersten Anfängen in Kellern in Philadelphia und Chicago, als sie durch Delay-Pedals über rohe Loops summte, hin zur selbstbewussten Frontfrau eines achtköpfigen Art-Soul-Orchesters, das die Welt bereist, hat die Vision, sowie das Talent Remys das Projekt über die letzten 15 Jahre zusammengehalten und geprägt. Mit "Half Free" (2015), "In A Poem Unlimited" (2018) und "Heavy Light" (2020) veröffentlichte sie drei Juno Award nominierte Alben (in der Kategorie "Best Alternative Album"), die auch jeweils auf der Shortlist für den Polaris Prize standen. Und das neuste U.S. Girls Album fügt der eh schon ausufernden Palette an Einflüssen, Themen und Sounds noch Bausteine wie Funk, ihre Mutterschaft, griechische Mythologie, langsame Jams, Erwachen und Schmerzen in das lebhafte Hymnen-Treiben hinzu! "Bless This Mess" entstand dabei, während in Remy ihre beiden Zwillings-Jungs heranwuchsen, in Kooperation mit einer ganzen Reihe an Musikern (Alex Frankel von Holy Ghost!, Marker Starling, Ryland Blackinton von Cobra Starship, Basia Bulat, Roger Manning Jr. von Jellyfish und Beck), sowie mithilfe einiger Tontechniker (Neal H Pogue, Ken Sluiter, Steve Chahley, Maximilian Turnbull). Da es weder eine feste Band noch immer gleiches Aufnahme-Personal während der Produktion gab, fühlt sich das neue Album vielmehr wie ein Mixtape an, gleichzeitig befindet sich Remy darauf selbst im stetigen Wandel. Denn während sich ihr Körper der Schwangerschaft anpasst, verändert sich auch ihre Stimme, verlor etwas Raum zum Atmen, bei einigen Gesangsaufnahmen waren ihre Neugeborenen sogar auf ihrem Arm. Keine Überraschung, dass Remy sogar ihre Milchpumpe auf "Pump" sampelte. Und doch beinhaltet das neue Album so viel mehr - mehr Blut, mehr Gefühle, die miteinander verflochtenen Wunder und Wunden des Lebens. Dementsprechend variieren auch die Songs in Tempo, Instrumentierung und geben sich zwischen experimenteller Hingabe, Entdeckungen und Delirium der aktuellen Gefühlslage der Künstlerin hin.

Cabaret Voltaire co-founder Stephen Mallinder's second solo outing for Dais further distills his signature fusion of minimal synth, oblique wordplay, and "wonky disco" into a riveting rhythm suite ripe for our Age of Escalation: Tick Tick Tick. Channeling the temporal malaise of lockdown through a lusher palette of modular electronics and stereo strings, the songs embrace ambiguity and plasticity, loose systems of percolating circuitry and airless funk. Recorded across a handful of sessions at Meme Tune Studios in Cornwall with frequent collaborator Benge (aka Ben Edwards), Mallinder cites no guiding aesthetic premise for the collection beyond "cowbell on every track, and entirely no reverb." From the first coiled cybernetic groove of opener "Contact," the album's spatial dynamics are disorienting and asymmetrical, alternately cold and sensual, opiated and claustrophobic. But, throughout, "rhythm is the default, the bedrock, the building block-even the melodies are rhythmic." Across 40-plus years of electronic musicianship, Mallinder's sense of timing and tempo has honed into a rare tier of mastery, limber and fluid but knotted with strange frictions. Shades of Detroit technoid industrial ("ringdropp," "Shock To The Body") crossfade into now avy punk-funk ("Guernica Gallery," "Galaxy," "The Trial"), bad trip IDM ("Wasteland"), and jittery vapor house ("Hush"), at the threshold of modes both familiar and foreign. Lyrically the record is equally evasive, rich with allusions and associative linguistics, surveying liquid notions of societal noise, ecological ruin, art world pretension, and the trials of daily life. But the lack of fixed meaning remains Mallinder's main muse: "Music should draw you in; lyrics should make you think. Most interpretation is misinterpretation." This is music of countdowns and comedowns, fleeting pleasures and opaque futures, observing the great decline while dancing on its ashes. Flux is deathless and forever; the rest, illusion: "I will be a constant figure / Flickering a moving picture / Turning in your head forever / Split apart but held together."

Cabaret Voltaire co-founder Stephen Mallinder's second solo outing for Dais further distills his signature fusion of minimal synth, oblique wordplay, and "wonky disco" into a riveting rhythm suite ripe for our Age of Escalation: Tick Tick Tick. Channeling the temporal malaise of lockdown through a lusher palette of modular electronics and stereo strings, the songs embrace ambiguity and plasticity, loose systems of percolating circuitry and airless funk. Recorded across a handful of sessions at Meme Tune Studios in Cornwall with frequent collaborator Benge (aka Ben Edwards), Mallinder cites no guiding aesthetic premise for the collection beyond "cowbell on every track, and entirely no reverb." From the first coiled cybernetic groove of opener "Contact," the album's spatial dynamics are disorienting and asymmetrical, alternately cold and sensual, opiated and claustrophobic. But, throughout, "rhythm is the default, the bedrock, the building block-even the melodies are rhythmic." Across 40-plus years of electronic musicianship, Mallinder's sense of timing and tempo has honed into a rare tier of mastery, limber and fluid but knotted with strange frictions. Shades of Detroit technoid industrial ("ringdropp," "Shock To The Body") crossfade into now avy punk-funk ("Guernica Gallery," "Galaxy," "The Trial"), bad trip IDM ("Wasteland"), and jittery vapor house ("Hush"), at the threshold of modes both familiar and foreign. Lyrically the record is equally evasive, rich with allusions and associative linguistics, surveying liquid notions of societal noise, ecological ruin, art world pretension, and the trials of daily life. But the lack of fixed meaning remains Mallinder's main muse: "Music should draw you in; lyrics should make you think. Most interpretation is misinterpretation." This is music of countdowns and comedowns, fleeting pleasures and opaque futures, observing the great decline while dancing on its ashes. Flux is deathless and forever; the rest, illusion: "I will be a constant figure / Flickering a moving picture / Turning in your head forever / Split apart but held together."

Born and raised in Atlanta, Georgia, Fit of Body (aka Ryan Parks) is part of a new generation of ATL producers; underground artists who draw on the space and grit of Southern hip hop and team it with curveball electronica discovered on late night, weed-fuelled web trawls.Having honed his sound on a string of feted self-released cassettes released on his own Harsh Riddims label - which has also put out everything from bizarro hip hop to gleaming synth pop - and dropped a hyped 12' released on the CGI imprint, the Healthcare EP finds Fit of Body delivering his most accomplished work to date. Five woozy original tracks jammed out on second hand drum machines, bass guitar, cheap mics and creaking synths, this is techno as it was first imagined; raw machine soul made for strange times and unknown futures.
Finding a commonality between Arthur Russell's vocal delivery, Jermaine Dupri's club shaking bass, and the militant drum attacks of Underground Resistance, the EP ghosts past rigid categories, instead taking a journey through heat and haze. On the A side, Parks switches between the languid analogue house of 56k, the melancholic Drexciyan electro of Ridin 2 That Trap or Die, and the lo-fi post punk grooves of 770-997-2341. On the flip he offers the late night 808 soul of Antonio Girl, followed by the uptempo techno ballad All This Time (Since), a song sad and euphoric in equal measure. On 12', the EP is closed with a remix from fellow ATL producer Divine Interface who stretches 56k into a glistening shard of time-stretched trip hop.