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Following his ‘You Are the Music’ EP for Euphoric State, and the reissue of the underground classic ‘Voices’ by Jewellery, David Inglesfield returns with a second EP by PersistentRain – and the first release on his own label, Precipitation.

‘All Time Is One’ is a meditation on the passing – yet continuity – of time, whether across multiple decades, or just in the transition from one day to another.

Opening track ‘Farewell’ brings disparate voices and sounds from the past back to life in an intense, transcendent journey, all driven by a pulsating bassline.

‘The Night Is Done’ features a solid beat and lush array of synths, with the vocal by Bristolian Christine Hulbert the icing on the cake.

On ‘This Place (Displace)’, Inglesfield, a Londoner from birth, but recently moved to South Wales, turns to consider a corner of his beloved native city, where a once-legendary musical theatre was swept away, to become a makeshift car park in the 1960s, then the site of a brutalist block in the 1970s, now torn down yet again. ‘The first place we’re going to stop at … seems to be NOWHERE!’

‘I Remember’ closes the EP, with fragments of Fender Rhodes and strings fluttering like memories over a moody, minimal sub-bass and insistent kick.

Pleasure Patterns has teamed up with the intricate minds of Ahni, INVERNO, No Police, & Submarine FM to produce a cunty cut of modern queer life which stays true to an undeniably classic sound. The record draws on Tunisian grooves, Reggae drum samples, & the energy of resistance.

Synthesised with field recordings from a kitchen, a jewellery box & an airport in Bengaluru, this 100% FLINTA* produced record is a truly trans-genre gem.

Inspired by the sounds & styles of Detroit Techno, Classic Deep House, & 90s Tribal Rhythms, Pleasure Pattern's debut release includes a tea-spoon of Acid, a pinch of Pop, & at least one cup of cunt.

Large Combo is back with a couple of Shaolin flavoured meals. On Side A, the Suckside cats take Staten Island to the city of brotherly love with an anthem sampling jawn that’ll make you drop your jewellery and RUN for the exit yelling “Adrian!” The flip side sees Big Mac back in action after a long hiatus. With upfront beats, sirens, anthemic horns, wailing vocals and big raps, Big Mac methodically reconstructs a classic Wu banger.

Temple, Bassey, MacLaine and now, Hurt; in a world of Shirleys, the name Sophia Ruby Katz has chosen for her music is perhaps prophetic as it captures her stunningly emotive vocal approach. And whilst Shirley Hurt might be the perfect nom de plume for the creative Toronto-based artist, it’s her self-titled debut album which positions her as protagonist of her own universe.

Traversing sonic landscapes, Shirley Hurt’s vocals ebb and flow like lyrical Ley lines tracking the contours of her own well-travelled map. By the age of 18, Hurt had travelled extensively, having lived in upwards of 20 different apartments and houses, as a result never really feeling “at home” anywhere. At this age was when Hurt found herself in New York, dipping her toes into various scenes and musical realms. The first and only place she ever felt at home, and a partial home-base for her, she travelled between Toronto and New York until the age of 26.When the project she was working on in New York reached a dead-end she returned West, moving in with musicians Harrison Forman (Hieronymus Harry, Zones) and Patrick Lefler (Roy, Possum). Being surrounded by their improvising at all hours, a new approach emerged. “Harrison is a virtuosic guitar player, and I hadn't picked up a guitar in any serious way since I was 16,” she says, “by osmosis I started playing again for fun.” Without agenda, the process grew organically from there.

Hurt and Forman decided to travel across the US and Canada in a trailer for half a year, with the entire album written in the final months of their trip. Hurt had been writing loose ideas here and there but felt blocked creatively. When the pair reached Berkley, they wound up house-sitting for a tuned-in friend who recommended she pray, in a very direct way, to remove the block. “I took her advice and to my surprise it worked. The album was conceptualized and finished within a couple of months.” Shapeshifting in tone and phrasing, Hurt’s music alchemizes the furthest corners of experimental indie folk, pop, and country into a singular sound with elegant unpredictability.

Whilst Shirley Hurt’s lyrical and structural ideas may have emerged on the road, the album was self-produced and recorded at Joseph Shabason (The War on Drugs)’s Aytche studio in Toronto’s West End. It was engineered by Nathan Vanderwielen and Chris Shannon (Bart), and Hurt enlisted collaborators Jason Bhattacharya, Nick Dourado, Patrick Lefler, and Harrison Forman to hone her vision. “I wasn’t sure what was going to happen with the songs until we returned to Toronto,” she recalls. “Joseph and I had been talking about working together after sending across some demos and Jason happened to recommend his studio at the exact same time, so everything came together naturally at that point.”

Whilst her most recent adventures may have seen Shirley Hurt bound for Texas as an official SXSW artist (hand-picked by Gorilla Vs Bear to perform at their own showcase), she currently resides in her native Canada, more specifically rural Ontario, close to friends and family, and is already working on her second album. The ties to lineage are interwoven in the fabric of the music. Hurt’s mother, artist Leala Hewak, instilled a lust for life and innate value of creativity in her from a young age as she explored the role of gallery owner, vintage jewellery show host, mid-century modern furniture expert, real estate agent, painter. Hurt’s father, a civil litigation lawyer and new-wave obsessed music lover with an extensive vinyl collection, introduced Hurt to a wide-range of artists at a young age such as Nina Hagen, Laurie Anderson, Tom Tom Club, and endless others.

In her video for ‘Problem Child’ Hurt’s grandmother walks her through a generationally revered pie-making process. One would be tempted to hear this, and other songs, as autobiographical. Yet, Hurt’s lyrics are rarely pulled from her relationships or personal history––at least not consciously. Rather, they arise from somewhere less tangible or defined. “Lyrics tend to come to me when I am doing non-musical things - washing dishes, brushing my dogs, walking to the grocery store. I have a lot of voice memos on my phone and half-filled notebooks and when I hear something, I have to stop what I'm doing to get the idea down. Usually it’s bits and pieces. It's rare a full song comes to me in one go, but it's great when they do, and those are often my favourites.”

Carving out a space of her own in an all-encompassing universe, Shirley Hurt is the introduction to a long artistic story, and if the journey so far is anything to go by, it will be stippled with evermore unpredictable chapters.

Sub Pop release ‘Indian Yard’, the debut record
from Sitka, Alaska project Ya Tseen.
Band founder, Nicholas Galanin is one of the most
vital voices in contemporary art. His work spans
sculpture, video, installation, photography,
jewellery and music; advocating for Indigenous
sovereignty, racial, social and environmental
justice, for present and future generations.
‘Indian Yard’ is a compelling document of humanity
centred in an Indigenous perspective. Created by
one of the world’s foremost Indigenous artists, the
irrepressible album is an intense illumination of
feeling and interconnectedness.
On the track ‘Close the Distance’ Galanin reflects
on the universal need for connection and the
expression of desire across distances. The official
video, directed by Stephan Gray (Shabazz
Palaces ‘Dawn In Luxor’, ‘Deesse Du Sang’),
extends beyond human experience to consider
physical expressions of desire in biological,
mechanical, and celestial forms.

Fortunately for us, Dmytro Nikolaienko agreed to open up the jewellery boxes of his tape-loop archive for his debut album on Faitiche. What came to light was a collection of dreamy glittering gems, masterfully presented using the compositional possibilities of analogue tape machines. Some may consider a tape machine to be limited as a musical instrument, but Rings makes a convincing case with its sure-handed use of the available parameters – moving tape over the tape head mechanically and manually, cutting loops, manipulating timbre and creating noise by means of saturation. The results are eleven blurred, repetitive, rhythmic patterns that can be understood as an intervention against digital precision, as mechanical irregularities and background noise become musical events.

For those familiar with Nikolaienko’s work, his nostalgic approach here will come as no surprise: born in Ukraine and now based in Estonia, he has chosen a historical medium (that has been enjoying a renaissance for some years now) to record historical-sounding sequences. The way he manages his own back catalogue is similarly archival, documenting the chronology of his tape loops in such a way as to leave no doubt as to their advanced age. And then there are his two wonderful labels Muscut and Shukai, the latter being an archival project releasing electroacoustic obscurities from the Soviet past. Which brings us back full circle …

Presenting 'Envelope'. Album written, produced & mixed by Milan W. and pressed on 180g vinyl, by Ekster. Coming out on the 6th of June 2018, with foil-stamped cover-drawing by Gerard Herman. Mastered & cut by Helmut Erler at Dubplates & Mastering.
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Milan W (AKA Milan Warmoeskerken) is an Antwerp-based musician. In 2015 he released the Slo Mo cassette, on local label JJ Funhouse. The Intact LP a year later. Compositions constructed from gentle, yet persistent, rhythms. Intricately textured downtempo echoes. Brain-dancing, rather than four-to-the-floor raving. 2017`s split with Ekolalis, for The Hague`s BAKK, made clear the direction Milan`s headed in. His contribution being a seventeen minute float. The kick largely removed. The textures cut-up, expanded and magnified. Envelope, for Ekster, builds on this work.

The harlequin turns the handle. The contraption sucks in air, and breathes. Blows out tone poems. Wordless ballads that soundtrack enchanted scenarios. Issues forth magic. A sorcerer`s apprentice casting its spell. Animating the inanimate. To everything a life. Sets the frozen fluttering. Pirouetting in red shoes. Illuminates what was dark. Astma sings a Gamelan lullaby. Summons comforting angels to a post-Industrial landscape. Glaasjes has Jazz ghosts inhabit an empty bar room. Spirits stealing excuse-me`s under its deserted spot. In Limbo amplifies their whispers. Lead soldiers court jewellery-box ballerinas behind shuttered shop fronts. On Heraldic Snippets, a tin infantry marches. Ten thousand men up to the top, and back down again. Keys make-believing that they are massed brass and fife.

The bellows pump, and the pipes all the while wheezing. An automaton philharmonic at the bidding of a steam-punk master. Analogue and digital. Clockwork and glitch. Malady finds sounds isolated, extrapolated, mutated. Orchestral`s organ-grinder moves with urgency, and alchemy. Spinning straw into gold. Snare rolls become bubbling mercury. Metallic, yet fluid. Racing at the speed of flight and escape. Slope is the music of water chasing through crystal caves. Slow Runner, a funeral crawl. Shoved into motion by a drama of strings remembered.
Like the charismatic Rat-Catcher of Hamelin, the harlequin turns the handle, and we bang the cup.