Buscar:paul holden

Brooklyn-born David Forman was steeped in soul music and Brill Building songcraft in the early 1970s while earning his living as a Hollywood set builder. He developed a soul singing style through his friendship with Aaron Neville, with whom he used to sing and jam on his apartment rooftop. He met Jack Nitzsche through his work on the 1972 film Greaser’s Palace (for which Nitzsche created the soundtrack) and later asked Nitzsche to produce this album. Forman’s original record deal with Davis was shepherded by the critic Stephen Holden of Rolling Stone and later the New York Times, and later by Paul Nelson, also of Rolling Stone.Fun fact about Forman: He was an assistant to Phillip Petit on his daring tight rope walk between the twin towers in 1974. And Forman later became a jingle writer and wrote and sang the famous Tums theme song (“Tum tum-tum-tum, TUUUUMS."This release features remastered audio, a plethora of archival photos, and a 24-page booklet with a 5500-word essay from noted journalist and producer Joe Hagan, a staff writer at Vanity Fair and producer of the 2022 compilation 'Earl's Closet' for Light In The Attic. Hagan is also fully committed to promoting the release through his network of key media gatekeepers, as well as his personal connections with legendary musicians, writers, and other cultural tastemakers.

Bendik Giske’s Beatrice Dillon-produced 2023 album gets an addendum with reworks from Carmen Villain, aya, Hanne Lippard, Hieroglyphic Being, Wacław Zimpel and Dillon herself.

Giske’s clearly got his ear to the ground; his last remix record was an invitation for Laurel Halo to put her stamp on »Cruising«, while 2018’s »Adjust EP« roped in Deathprod, Total Freedom, Lotic, and Rezzett. Now comes this new LP of remixes and it’s one of the best we’ve heard in aeons. Carmen Villain boots things off with a remix of »Slipping«, following her excellent (and way, way too underrated) »Nutrition EP« with a giddy, subtle roller that sounds as if it’s been constructed using only Giske’s raw stems. His breaths and leathery key presses – already amped up by Dillon’s detailed recording – are magicked into a dubby concrète groove that’s enhanced with the sparest melodic elements: echoing rainforest-at-night horn blasts, and lopped off decay trails that help fuel the momentum.

aya’s revision of the same track takes a different approach, forming forceful overlapping polyrhythms from Giske’s clanks, using the gamelan-like arpeggios for melodic weight and repetition. The result is a constantly shifting, hypnotic trancer that’s achingly organic – more Raja Kirik than Paul Van Dyke. Polish clarinetist and producer Wacław Zimpel, meanwhile, supplements his trippy recent collaboration with James Holden on a similarly levitational wrinkle of »Slipping« that twists Giske’s quivering sequences with microtonal synth prangs, and gusty echoes. But it’s Jamal Moss who plays fastest and loosest with Giske’s source material, calling back to April’s psy-house stunner »Dance Music 4 Bad People« with a powdery, sexualised banger that buries the breathy »Start« stems underneath neon synths, and brittle drum loops.

»I’m a digital nomad,« Lippard deadpans over Giske’s »Not Yet«. »I’m addicted you know that.« It’s a typically dry treatment from the conceptual artist that unexpectedly amps up the hypnotic qualities of Giske’s original, adding her circuitous charm to his concertina-ing sax sequences. And to tie things up perfectly, Beatrice Dillon returns with her diaphanous remix of »Rise and Fall«, built to emphasise the radically different approaches of each artist.