Buscar:all that we see or seem

The Just Joans' new album Romantic Visions of Scotland finds the Glasgow band in characteristically melancholic form, pairing shambling indie pop with sharp observations on romantic pratfalls and everyday dis-appointments, all delivered with sardonic Scottish wit, fronted by siblings David and Katie Pope, whose wry lyrics and heartfelt vocals remain at the heart of the band’s distinctive sound.
Originally inspired by a grandiose exhibition title spotted on Glasgow buses in 2019 for a show at the Nation-al Museum of Scotland called Wild and Majestic: Romantic Visions of Scotland, the new album arrives six years later as a collection of semi-autobiographical snapshots from the Central Belt of Scotland. Whilst some of the details have been exaggerated for comic (or tragic) effect, the songs are based on personal experience of mundane failings, bitter regrets and missed opportunities that make up an unremarkable life.
Recurring themes of nostalgia for a bygone era and the fear of being left behind by lovers, friends and peers run throughout the album. Musically and lyrically, the band channels Village Green-era Kinks, with nods to The Television Personalities, The Smiths and Dolly Mixture.
In the past they have always recorded by themselves in a variety of bedrooms, living rooms – and the occasional toilet. For the first time they have abandoned their DIY recording practices to create what songwriter David Pope calls, “a corporate behemoth in an actual studio.” The album was recorded at Chem19 in Blan-tyre with Paul Savage, who is best known as a founding member of local legends The Delgados. He has also produced and recorded the likes of Teenage Fanclub, Arab Strap and Camera Obscura, and has captured a slightly more muscular version of the band while retaining their ramshackle charm.
The album artwork by vocalist and painter Katie Pope depicts Motherwell Train Station – an ordinary, boring place that speaks to the subject matter of the songs, but with a hint of potential escape. As David Pope ex-plains, “For me, the painting reminds me of the ending of Billy Liar in which Billy tries and fails to leave his hometown for the bright lights of London. Half the band also live in Motherwell, so it seemed appropriate.”
Funded by Creative Scotland, the recording allowed the band to bring in bass and cello arrangements, adding depth and a sheen of musical proficiency to their signature sound.
About The Just Joans - The Just Joans were formed in Glasgow in 2005 by songwriter David Pope. Early demos were collected together and released as a loose concept album, Last Tango in Motherwell, in 2006. Chris Elkin joined on guitar and was followed shortly after by David’s younger sister, Katie, on vocals and Fraser Ford on bass. Over the years they have released EPs and albums on WeePOP! and Fika Records and have gained a cult following as Scottish pop miserabilists.
The current line-up consists of Katie Pope (vocals), David Pope (vocals, guitar), Chris Elkin (lead guitar), Fraser Ford (bass), Arion Xenos (keyboards) and Jason Sweeney (drums).
Press Quotes:
“They fit snugly into the scratchy, low budget Scottish indie tradition of The Delgados and Arab Strap… There’s mischief in this miserabilism.” - Mojo 4*s
“Glasgow’s The Just Joans have documented the romantic pratfalls of a generation of indie kids with sardonic wit and a shambling musical style where Stephin Merrit lies down with The Vaselines.” - Uncut
“Funny and sad, it’s the kind of song that made Red House Painters, The Magnetic Fields and The Wedding Present’s early albums so easy to embrace; an unpretentious sharing of relatable gloom.” - Record Collector

Swan Song

The vinyl LP at the heart of this éthiopiques 31 tracks 2 to 11 was one of the very last vinyl records ever released in Ethiopia. But above all it represents, we felt, the absolute masterpiece of the Ethiopian Groove – the Swan Song of Swinging Addis. The album leaves a clear idea for posterity of the level of sophistication and mastery that modern Ethiopian music had achieved, before being crushed under the Stalino-military heel of the Derg – as the bloody revolution that was unfolding came to be called.

Ethiopia1976.

The Revolution that broke out in February 1974 rolled on in a ruthless march. The whole of Ethiopian society was utterly stunned. The bouquets of flowers handed joyfully to the first tanks of the coup d'état were to wilt very rapidly. From September 1976 to February 1978, 18 months of Red Terror (the name given by the junta itself) spilled blood throughout the country. This fratricidal conflict took its heaviest toll among students and youth. The shift from feudalism to a cruel and primitive Stalinism left the country's citizens deeply traumatised, and snuffed out any pretence of activism, whatever the sector of society. This ice age was to last for seventeen long years.

ሙሉቀን፡መለሰ Mulukèn Mellèssè Muluqän Mälläsä

It was three tracks by Muluken that served as the opener for éthiopiques-1 more than 25 years ago. Seven more tracks appeared on éthiopiques-3 and 13, all accompanied by The Equators, which was soon to become the Dahlak Band.

The first track, Hédètch alu, also the very first piece that Muluken ever recorded, left audiences both unsettled and amazed. Reflecting the singer's extremely young age (he was just 17 at the time), this angelic voice mystified many, who thought they were in fact listening to a feminine voice. He was not yet 22 when he released his last vinyl record in 1976 with Kaifa Records (KF 39LP), one of the very last to be issued in Ethiopia, before the cassette tape became the dominant medium for music distribution – and before the new revolutionary regime put a stop to all independent musical life, via an unspeakable barrage of prohibitions and other persecutions.

Mulu qèn, literally, “A well filled day”. This tender maternal intention wasn't enough to ward off the cruelty of fate. His mother's premature death drove Muluken to leave his native Godjam, in northeast Ethiopia, to live with an uncle in Addis Ababa. Born Muluken Tamer, he took his uncle's last name – Mèllèssè.

The spelling Muluken appeared in his administrative records. Transcription of Amharic to the Latin alphabet, both in Ethiopia and for scholars, gives rise to controversies and quibbles that can never be neatly settled. French allows for a closer approximation of the original pronunciation, thanks to its battery of accent marks, confusing as they may be to anglophones.

Between rather accommodating administrative record-keepers and the various versions that pop up in interviews given by the artist, Muluken's year of birth oscillates between 1953 and 1955…

1954? One thing is certain: the artist's talent made itself known very early indeed, because he got his start in 1966-67, at the age of 13 or 14. Photos from the period attest to his extreme youth. It's a strange sort of initiation for a very young teenager to become a sensation in the heart of Addis's nightlife at the time, Woubé Bèrèha – the Wilds of Woubé. And what's more, in the club of the Queen of the Night, the Godjamé Assègèdètch Alamrèw herself, the very same that was portrayed by Sebhat Guèbrè-Egziabhér in his novel-memoir Les Nuits d’Addis Abeba2… The legendary female club owner who is remembered to this day by the capital's ageing boomers.

Muluken first tried his hand at the drums, before he grabbed the microphone. He emigrated briefly to the Zula Club, across the street from the old Addis Post Office, one of the ground-breaking bars of the burgeoning musical scene, before joining the Second Police Band in 1968, for around three years. He spent a few months with the short-lived Blue Nile Band founded by saxophonist Besrat Tammènè. As the musical scene grew increasingly successful, and pulled slowly but decisively away from its institutional ties, Muluken released his first 45rpm single in February 1972 (Amha Records AE 440). It was included in two LP Ethiopian Hit Parade compilation albums in September of the same year. All in all, Muluken released eight two-track 45s and the same number of original cassette tapes between February 1972 and 1984, the year that he departed for permanent exile in the USA. After converting to Pentecostalism in 1980, Muluken gradually abandoned all secular musical activity. In 1985, at the end of a concert in Philadelphia, he decided to quit concerts and recording for good. Mèlakè Gèbré, the historic bass player from the Walias band who was playing with him that night, recalls that everything appeared so irredeemably diabolical in Muluken's eyes, that it was to be the end of his contribution to Ethiopian Groove.

The end of the story, the beginning of a legend.

Dahlak Band, forgotten by History

Aside from his personal history and vocal talents, it must be remembered that Muluken Mèllèssè was one of the biggest names in the musical innovations that marked the end of the imperial period. These éthiopiques aim to convince those who are just discovering this hidden gem... As for Ethiopians themselves, they are to this day captivated by this singular and atypical figure in the Abyssinian pop landscape – even though he withdrew from public life some 40 years ago. Incorrigible devotees of poetic twists, of more or less hidden meanings, Ethiopians appreciate above all the care Muluken took in choosing his lyrics and the writers who penned them, such as Feqerte Haylou, Alemtsehay Wodajo and, here, Shewalul Mengistu (1944-1977). Love songs, written by women, a far cry from the conventional drivel that pleases sappy sentimentalists.

Muluken is equally acclaimed for his perfectionism when it came to music, the opposite of the overly casual approach that is all too common. He remained a faithful partner of musicians who came from a lineage that borrowed from several inventive and pioneering bands (Venus, Equators, Dahlak). Amongst them were certain artists who began their musical lives with Nersès Nalbandian at the Haile Sellassie Theatre and who come of age in around 1973 – at just the wrong time, you might say. Among them were the pillars Shimèlis Bèyènè (trumpet), Dawit Yifru (keyboards) and Tilayé Gèbrè (sax & flute). Most notably Tilayé Gèbrè, certainly one of the most important musicians, composers and arrangers of his generation, of the end of the imperial era, and of the early years of the Derg.

It was only in 1981 that a miraculous opportunity arose for Tilayé to escape the Stalinist paradise of the dictator Menguistou Haylè-Maryam. Once again it was Amha Eshèté (1946-2021) who provided a solution. The spirited and courageous producer, who had been in exile in Washington since 1975, succeeded, thanks to his incredible perseverence, in bringing the Walias Band to the USA. It was, in fact an extended Walias Band comprising ten musicians3, six of whom chose to slip away after a few concerts and the recording of an LP (The Best of Walias, WRS 100). Tilayé Gèbrè was one of these. He has been living in the USA ever since. There he joined the then-nascent Ethiopian diaspora, which lived largely unto itself, and was making only very modest headway in the American musical market. It seems unfair that Tilayé Gèbrè and the Dahlak Band were not able to benefit earlier from the public recognition that they do deserve.

A similar draining away of the top-rate talents would lead to the reorganization of the major groups of the “Derg Time”. The remaining artists spread themselves around between Ibex Band (renamed Roha Band), Ethio Star Band and a remodeled Walias Band. That spelled the end of the Dahlak Band.

With this record, produced by the essential Ali Abdella Kaifa a.k.a. Ali Tango, we can appreciate everything that the Derg not only destroyed, but also prevented from flourishing. This gem of Ethiopian-style afrobeat came out in 1976 (and, by way of a parenthesis, before the FESTAC 1977 in Lagos, which was attended by an impressive delegation of Ethiopian musicians — although Fela was already personna non grata in his own country). Despite everything that might distinguish this ethio-groove from Fela’s music – no colonial axe to grind, no question of political confrontation with the authorities, no claims to negritude or Africanism for the Ethiopian musicians, and less extrovertion! –, this LP fits beautifully into the saga of intense and electrified soul of the new “African” groove that Fela and Manu Dibango embodied so well from that point onwards.

In restoring this record to its place in the afrobeat epic, it can be seen that, if nothing else, the timeline bestows a legitimate pedigree and a historical primacy to works that had no international impact when they were originally released.

Warning! Masterpiece!

»Hug of Gravity« is the second solo album by Raphael Loher and his first for Hallow Ground. The Swiss pianist and composer uses piano preparations, tape machines, and digital means to forge an aesthetic of playful reduction and rhythmic abstraction. The source material for these four sprawling pieces was culled from recordings of the artist performing the album’s predecessor, 2022’s »Keemuun.« Loher used them in a painstaking two-part working process to create an album that is both a product of and an ode to transformation, exploring themes of alternative temporalities and spatialities. »Hug of Gravity« oscillates between experimental electronic music, ambient, and minimal music and calls to mind the work of artists like William Basinski, Linda Catlin Smith, or label mate Andrius Arutiunian.

Loher laid the foundation for »Hug of Gravity« in 2020 with ten solo performances at his studio, during which he presented the pieces from his debut album. For these intimate concerts, he prepared the piano with modelling clay in order to move beyond the well-tempered tuning that dominates most of Western music. He then used a consecutive three-month residency in the Blenio Valley to refine the recordings. »I cut up and rearranged the material, then transferred the results—around 30 pieces—to a varispeed tape machine and then back to the computer. After that was done, I cut them up and rearranged them again,« he laughs. By radically reworking the material, he created an album that eschews traditional notions of time and space.

Loher points out the influence that his surroundings had on him. »The process created the music—and the place was essential to the process.« he says. He wandered through the mountains for up to nine or ten hours a day, which gave him a sense of what he calls expanded temporality. »Time just felt longer, my experiences seemed more diverse and nuanced, and it was as if I perceived my environment more clearly,« he explains. This shift in Loher’s perception of time and space—the latter also expressed in the album’s title—influenced his work with the varispeed tape machine. It allowed him to change the pitch of different recordings while layering them to let interference patterns emerge and emphasise the emotional qualities of the unconventional tunings he had used.

In this way, Loher constructed numerous interlocking narrative arcs throughout »Hug of Gravity,« an album that is ever-changing; an exercise in calm ecstasy that provides its audience with the feeling of being removed from conventional time and space. This approach is also reflected in the artwork for »Hug of Gravity,« which is based on drawings Loher made during his residency at Blenio Valley. Their fine hand-drawn lines run in parallel and let incidental patterns emerge, an effect that is only multiplied when the six different drawings that accompany each vinyl copy of the album are overlapping, forming ever-new visual constellations.

Reissue of the 3rd full length by Thomas Bücker aka Bersarin Quartett.

Melancholia. Longing. It is difficult to speak about these moods or states of the mind without invoking stereotypes. In ancient medicine, melancholia was considered to be one of the four temperaments, matching the four humours. In fact, melancholia, meaning "black bile" in Ancient Greek, was thought to be caused by an excess of this very body substance. By contrast, in more modern interpretations, literates and Freudians relate many variations of longing to the one primordial longing, the desire to return to one's mother's womb. In this context, the womb is considered to be the place of absolute comfort and cosiness, of total bliss. Thus it should not be surprising that to many of us melancholia is a mood which we like to invoke and to maintain, we like to envelop ourselves in it like in a warm blanket. Our brain and our sensory systems appear to be made for perceiving and emotionally responding to music in a very immediate fashion. Consequently music is the obvious drug for all of us melancholia-addicts. However, there is a thin line between melancholia and sadness, and music which is meant to be melancholic too often crosses this line by far. Only very few artists succeed in avoiding this crossing, and in creating music which is melancholia in its most pure form. It is safe to say that BERSARIN QUARTETT - the electronic music project of Thomas Bücker - is one of them.

After his debut in 2008 and the sophomore "II" in 2012 - album of the month in many magazines and in numerous "Best of the year" lists - Bücker in 2015 returned with his third BERSARIN QUARTETT album "III". Much like his two predecessors, III is a pure paradox. It is the creation of a perfectionist, an adamant control freak. Every element, be it a note, an ambience layer, a string arrangement, a field recording, a baseline, a vocal (Clara Hill on Track 11) or a beat, is meticulously modified and then assigned its place in Bücker's vast but still minimalistic arrangements. Thus, superficially Bücker's pieces seem to radiate a certain mechanical bleakness. However, there is a unique reduced warmth and liveliness emerging from these stainless compositions and transcending them. This transcendence is precisely the point where Bücker ironically looses control over his creations. In contrast to the first two BERSARIN QUARTETT albums, III offers a few darker shades and succeeds even further in narrowing down the arrangements to the absolute essentials without loosing the characteristic grandeur of Bücker's sound. Whereas BERSARIN QUARTETT's debut was merely a description of melancholia in its most pure form, III maybe even goes as far a defining what melancholia really is. It is the only emotion in the vast spectrum of human states of mind which one can bear forever.

Supergroups existed before Emerson, Lake & Palmer formed in 1970. And, as we all know well, many came after. But few, if any, matched the English trio’s chemistry and its elevated combination of virtuosity, vision, and verve. Having influenced a multitude of followers, ELP’s prowess was obvious from the start. The band’s self-titled debut stands as a towering statement of creative imagination, execution, and discipline more than five decades after its original release.

Mastered at MoFi’s California studio, housed in a Stoughton jacket, and pressed at Fidelity Record Pressing, Mobile Fidelity’s numbered-edition 180g 33RPM LP of Emerson, Lake & Palmer presents the benchmark album in audiophile sound. Clear, dynamic, and balanced, this collectible edition honors the perfectionist approaches that both informed the playing and recording of the record.

Distinguished with black backgrounds, this reissue brings to light the epic scope, tonal depth, and mind-bending degrees of musicianship on display. Aspects — textures, nuances, effects, melodies, tempo changes — that go hand-in-hand with the trio’s compositions and interplay are rendered amid broad soundstages and delivered with pinpoint detail. Whether you’ve owned multiple copies of this touchstone or seeking out your first version, you’ll relish the presence, separation, imaging, and crispness that help make every song come across as if the group has set up shop in your listening space.

Opening the door to the seemingly infinite possibilities of progressive rock while steering clear of excess, Emerson, Lake & Palmer achieved a rare feat in that its complex, cerebral music didn’t prevent it from attaining mainstream success. The gold-certified effort launched the career of a band that would sell tens of millions of records. It also landed a Top 50 single in the form of the ballad “Lucky Man,” whose vocal harmonies, folksy strumming, multi-tracked instrumentation, and breakthrough Moog solo almost feel quaint in the face of the other fare on the album.

Comprised of genre-defying originals and hybrid arrangements of two classical pieces, the album Rolling Stone originally and rightly said is “best heard as a whole” matches outrageous ambition with the otherworldly skills of three musicians who remain among the finest to ever pick up their respective instruments. While Emerson soon drew the lion’s share of headlines for his ability on keys — clavinet, Moog, piano, Hammond organ, and pipe organ included — Greg Lake’s aptitude on guitar and bass, along with well as Carl Palmer’s monster talents behind the kit, created a three-headed hydra that devoured everything in front of it.

That extends to the radical reinterpretation of Bela Bartok’s “The Barbarian” that begins the LP, a performance that in less than four-and-a-half minutes runs the gamut from distorted to churchy to angular and blustery. More classical flourishes, keyboard wizardry, hard-rock heaviness, and gothic signatures emerge throughout “Knife-Edge,” which reimagines music by Leos Janacek and J.S. Bach — and ultimately invites you to explore a cathedral of sound teeming with separate bursts of keys and percussion.

And did someone say “drumming”? Check out Palmer’s monster salvo on “Tank,” a rhythmic showcase that marches out with knee-bent notes and mirror-reflected passages. Or dive into the mythological suite “The Three Fates.” Replete with three parts and Emerson playing the pipe organ at Royal Festival Hall, it shoots off sonic fireworks via sophisticated arpeggios, jazz improvisations, dancing counter-meters, sizzling chords, and a few explosions. Please don’t hold anyone at MoFi responsible if your system cannot handle it; this is heady stuff.

Indeed, everything on Emerson, Lake & Palmer is there for a purpose. Whether you aim to attempt to dissect all of the notes, shifts, and polyrhythmic bluster or just want to absorb this album as one living, breathing organism, this version invites you to do both as many times as you desire.

The capstone of Miles Davis’ electric period, Agharta reigns as a funk-rock fireball — a blazing comet streaked energy and elan, a fearless organism feasting on adventure and freedom, a seven-headed Godzilla stomping its way through Osaka, Japan. Recorded on February 1, 1975 at Osaka Festival Hall at the first of a two-show stand, the double album offers an endless abundance of surprises and shifts — as well as a road-proven ensemble whose chemistry and abilities equal that of any of Davis’ celebrated bands. If the true measure of jazz is the capacity to adapt to the moment and challenge perception, Agharta is consummate.

Sourced from the original master tapes, housed in a Stoughton gatefold jacket, and pressed at Fidelity Record Pressing in California, Mobile Fidelity’s numbered-edition 180g 33RPM 2LP set of this epic live release presents it in audiophile sound on a domestic pressing for the first time. Offering greater degrees of separation, detail, and richness than the compressed CD editions and more clarity, openness, and presence than older vinyl copies, this version of the 1975 release helps bring the concert stage to your home. Just make sure your turntable and speakers are up to the challenge of Davis and Co.’s explosive performances — and producing the decibels they demand.

Teeming with vibrant colors, tones, and pace, Mobile Fidelity’s reissue captures the hear-it-to-believe-it flow, sweep, and moodiness of the music. Though the group honors looseness and freedom with religious verve, the specificity and scale rendered by this remaster allows you to detect methods behind the alleged madness that are often otherwise harder to discern. This insight extends to the understated changes in volume, harmonics, and phrasings. In many ways, you can listen as Davis himself did that early February evening as he helped coordinate the overall direction and decided on whether to blow his wah-wah-wired trumpet or take a turn on the organ.

Tellingly, Agharta would likely never have been made if not for Davis’ ventures overseas and, specifically, to the Land of the Rising Sun. Having for years faced a backlash on his native soil for his choices to experiment and blow past all known borders, Davis was welcomed with open arms in Japan. The concert documented on Agharta — as well as the day’s later show, captured on the equally exciting Pangea — stemmed from a sold-out three-week tour that would ultimately mark Davis’ final public appearances for years, as he soon settled into semi-retirement and nursed the wounds connected to an unprecedented stretch of restless and relentless output.

For all the band-fueled merit of Agharta — and there’s plenty, given the cast of saxophonist Sonny Fortune, bassist Michael Henderson, drummer Al Foster, percussionist James Mtume, and guitarists Reggie Lucas and Pete Cosey seemingly blasts off to outer space and travels distant galaxies by the time this minimally edited record runs its course — Davis’ own playing often remains overlooked. As critics Richard Cook and Brian Morton observed, it is “often fantastically subtle, creating surges and ebbs in a harmonically static line, allowing him to build huge melismatic variations on a single note.” He attacks like a man on a mission, out to prove naysayers wrong and bent on trailblazing another new path forward. Convention and skeptics be damned.

Noisy and furious, dark and discordant, abstract and off-balance, radical and intense, abrasive and atmospheric, strangely beautiful and hypnotically eccentric: Agharta evades simple description, and refuses to be pinned down in any established category — rock, jazz, punk, ambient, prog, avante-garde, or otherwise. Shot through with trench-deep grooves, screaming riffs, scalding solos, and free-improv leads, its cosmic thrust comes on as the equivalent of an animated pointillist painting comprised of millions of textured dots, dashes, and dabs that hold your attention so raptly you want to revisit the ideas again and again.

Always steps ahead of everyone else, Davis knew what he was doing even when Agharta debuted in Japan before later hitting U.S. markets. Though “Maiysha” and “Theme from Jack Johnson” are identified in the track listing, the record contains a number of uncredited references to other Davis works, including a nod to “So What.” This decision to bypass labels only adds to the art of the reveal — the rare black magic in which Agharta expertly deals.

The song titles on Van Halen's aptly titled Fair Warning don't lie. The likes of "Unchained," "Mean Street," "Push Comes to Shove," "One Foot Out the Door," and more indicate the mood the band channels on its double-platinum 1981 record — the nastiest, darkest, and fiercest album of the group's storied career. For the fourth time in four years, Van Halen throws down the gauntlet to all challengers and emerges victorious.


Sourced from the original analog tapes, pressed on MoFi SuperVinyl at Fidelity Record Pressing, and strictly limited to 5,000 numbered copies, Mobile Fidelity's UltraDisc One-Step 180g 45RPM 2LP set plays with unfettered clarity, dynamics, and immediacy. Benefitting from superb groove definition, an ultra-low noise floor, and dead-quiet surfaces, this vinyl edition captures what went down in the studio with tremendous realism and involving presence.

Taking a more controlled approach in the studio and still completing everything in less than two weeks, Van Halen and producer Ted Templeman relied on studio amplifiers to direct the sound. Further diverging from the live-on-the-floor approach of its earlier albums, the ensemble also employed overdubs to great effect. The result: Dense, stacked architecture that underlines the hard-hitting tenor of the songs — and which comes alive like never before on this reference edition that looks as good as it sounds.

The premium packaging and gorgeous presentation befit the reissue's select status. Housed in a deluxe slipcase, it features special foil-stamped jackets and faithful-to-the-original graphics that illuminate the splendor of the recording. Aurally and visually, it is made for listeners who want to immerse themselves in everything involved with the album, including the iconic cover art adopted from William Kurelek's haunting painting, "The Maze."

Isolated frames from Kurelek's childhood-inspired work — including a man bashing his head into a brick wall, a guy pinning down an adversary as he delivers bare-fist blows to his face and others watch with apparent glee, a boy tied down on a conveyer belt and being sent through the equivalent of a meat saw — adorn the front and back covers. The sunnier visual disposition of Van Halen's prior efforts gives way to something sinister and tortured, traits reflective of the music within. The band members, too, are visually depicted not in glamorous shots but in a serious black-and-white portrait in which the quartet is clad in black leather jackets.

Tough, aggressive, stark: Fair Warning comes on like a series of bare-knuckled punches to the solar plexus and boasts lyrical narratives to match. Though not a concept record, the concise album revolves around themes of roughing it on the streets and struggling to survive amid dim prospects. Singer David Lee Roth reportedly penned many of the initial lyrics after traveling to Haiti and observing extreme poverty. The characters and situations populating Fair Warning reflect hardscrabble existence, last-chance desperation, and underlying danger.

Witness the crazies, poor folks, and hunters of “Mean Street”; the former prom queen turned pornographic actress on “Dirty Movies”; the menace and vice of “Sinners Swing!”; the streetwise hustle of “Unchained”; the isolation and alienation of “Push Comes to Shove”; the desire for escape on “One Foot Out the Door”: A carefree California beach party Fair Warning is not.

Having said he felt angry and frustrated during the sessions, guitarist Eddie Van Halen uses the forceful arrangements as a playground for his seemingly unlimited arsenal. Supported by a crack rhythm section and a hyped-up Roth, he performs with an almost impossible combination of punk-like intensity, technical finesse, lyrical fluidity, and unbridled emotion. The virtuoso was increasingly butting heads with Templeton and seeking a freedom in the studio he believed denied him.

No wonder he plays like a bat out of hell. Listen to the rapid-fire manner in which he slaps the high and low E strings on the 12th fret of his instrument on “Mean Street,” instilling the tune with funk flair and metal-spiked sharpness. For the pouty strut of “Dirty Movies,” Eddie Van Halen contributes slide guitar magic made possible after he sawed off the lower portion of a Gibson SG so he could reach further down the fretboard.

Related intensity, urgency, and daredevil momentum punctuate the surging “Sinner’s Swing!” A heavily flanged, delicately melodic introduction frames the attitudinal “Hear About It Later,” among the most creative arrangements of Van Halen’s career. And do riffs come any bigger or magnetic than those on the high-wire kick of “Unchained”? As for the out-of-left-field “Sunday in the Park,” an instrumental composed on an Electro-Harmonix micro-synthesizer: Who but Eddie Van Halen to supply creep factor in such an ingenious way?

Despite selling fewer quantities than Van Halen’s prior efforts, Fair Warning remains for many diehards the record that epitomizes all of the band’s immense strengths —Roth’s manic energy and tongue-wagging humor, Alex Van Halen’s rhythmic heartbeat-in-your-chest bombast, and Michael Anthony’s lucid bass lines included. Arriving when the New Wave of British Heavy Metal and new-wave movements were taking flight, it signaled a shot across the bow from a band determined to stay a step ahead and provide proof nobody could touch what it delivered.

More than four decades later, Fair Warning still sounds that alarm.

Repress!

Belgian tastemaker Charlotte de Witte returns to her own KNTXT to serve up the well regarded label's seventh EP. Rave On Time is about reminding us of the joys of being lost on the dance floor and is another hard hitting EP filled with her distinctive techno energy.

Charlotte is at the centre of her own musical movement, with a hard hitting, no frills style. Her powerful grooves, whether solo or in collaboration with the likes of Chris Liebing, come laced with ambient and synth beauty. She has mesmerised crowds all over the world as well as at her own special KNTXT events, and has been as creative as ever during lockdown, as this new EP shows.

Says the artist herself of this latest offering, "Rave On Time. Three words that probably have never been more relevant. In a time where raving feels like a distant memory, it seems increasingly important to bring music back in our lives, in reverse. Let's not forget where we came from and let's not lose hope. We'll be together again soon. Rave On Time."

Opener Rave On Time is built on hammering, distorted kicks that bend you to their whim. Freaky vocals and monstrous hits add extra pressure and ensure you stay locked before shooting laser synths and retro hoover sounds bring the rave. There's No One Left To Trust keeps up the energy with scintillating synths rattling over rock solid drum programming that never lets up. The World Inside is brain frying material, with serrated synths firing out and growing ever more acid as the groove pounds on. Common Era is brilliant hands in the air acid-trance-techno that froths with energy and flashing strobes. Finally, vinyl only track 'Wahr Ist Sie Dann’ is a distorted, brain melting techno workout with brutalist kicks and vast walls of synths that are hugely powerful.

As ever from de Witte, this is pure, unadulterated club music that makes a gargantuan impact.

Makyo taps into his love of roots reggae for this deep, dark and dreamy cover of Things Ah Get Tough by the legendary Bristol band Talisman. The Tokyo-based producer transforms the original, while keeping true to the essence of the original, whose lyrics meditate on the greed and destruction caused when corporations benefit from a nation’s downfall.

Makyo has charted his own course through the world of dub, often with an eastern or tribal twist, since the early 90s, working with collaborators like Bill Laswell, Natacha Atlas and Muslimgauze, but with this release, he’s entering a new phase.

“I’ve listened to this song for years,“ notes Makyo, “and it just felt more relevant than ever when I started working on it in 2024, with all the wars, election madness, wildfires, inflation and nuclear posturing. The mood just seemed to reflect where people were at.”

Having overcome crippling tinnitus and hyperacusis (to the point that he couldn’t even listen to music for several years), Makyo’s finding joy in the past whilst looking to the future, with this sparse and bittersweet version of Talisman’s tune the first in a series of contemporary covers he has planned.

The inimitable Richard Youngs returns to Black Truffle with this third full-length for the label, Hidden. Like CXXI and Modern Sorrow, Hidden unfolds across two side-long pieces at once eminently listenable and possessed of the ‘bloody-minded’ dedication to ‘having an idea and sticking with it’ that Youngs himself has identified as one of the key qualities of his work.

At the core of both pieces are rapid, randomised arpeggios generated with a Moog Grandmother, hypnotic patterns that wouldn’t be out of place on a Berlin School classic. Alongside these arpeggios, across the seventeen minutes of the first side-long piece Youngs builds an airy structure of shakers, synthetic handclaps and a brief, repeated sample, impossible to identify but sounding like a glitched foghorn. Over the top we hear his unmistakable voice, repeating single syllables—Ha, Ho—with a slow delay, something like a lonely one-man-band take on Anthony Moore’s Pieces from the Cloudland Ballroom or a more musical elaboration of the hypnotically overlapping delayed phonemes of Anton Bruhin’s Rotomotor. Like much of Youngs' work, the arrangement of sounds is sparse, each layer punctuated by spaces that allow others to shine through, in a way that seems to have more to do with dub or early hip-hop than high-brow models of musical reductionism.

On the flipside, the arpeggios return, now accompanied by ringing, filtered guitar chords and long flute tones. The use of a similar ground layer across the two pieces with strikingly different overdubs calls up Youngs' first solo record, the classic Advent, reminding us of how consistent ‘theme and variations’ is as an approach in his enormous body of work. Joined by handclaps and a chiming sound, the piece almost feels like it is about to achieve dance-floor lift-off at times, only for the percussion to disappear and leave the listener once again floating among the guitar and flute, now joined by occasional cut-off vocal snippets, like a radio turned quickly on and off. The suspension of these disparate elements over the steady foundation of the Moog arpeggios might remind some listeners of the free-form studio explorations of Moebius & Plank and Holger Czukay or even give a nod to Youngs’ formative encounter with Cabaret Voltaire.

Like some of Youngs’ much-loved work with Simon Wickham-Smith, Hidden approaches relatively familiar sounds and instruments from skewed angles, delighting in loose structures of interaction that border on gleeful incoherence while remaining outwardly beautiful. Coming up to almost four decades of persistent activity, like little else in contemporary music Youngs’ work beams with the simple joys of exploration and experiment.



Xexa is still undefined, gliding over her origins, influences, and points of reference. Her music is informed by uploads from all that, processing heritage and future in much the same democratic way, sure of its (her!) path. Synthetic as it may sound, »Kissom« contains the very human element of Xexa's presence, not only through her instantly recognizable ethereal vocals but also manifest in the web of grooves stopping short of »dance«. »Kizomba 003« is the closest she comes to the dancefloor, a reduced take on the popular style of kizomba, a low-key interpretation but with the vocals atypically high in the mix. A brief breath of nostalgia. »Kissom« (title track) prolongs the slow pace, almost as an extended mix of »Kizomba 003«, stretching the sexy bounce for close to 4 extra-delightful minutes.

Everything seems to dissolve into space, as if every track gently expires only to be reconfigured somewhere else, molecule by molecule, perhaps in a different location within our mind. The artist somehow corroborates the feeling, particularly regarding »Será«, »Xtinti«, and »Txe«, which she says »finish exactly where I wanted. They all end with an EQ that mutes the frequencies until they cease to exist«. Here, there, sparse beats, successive waves of ambience, half-machine lips singing close to our ears, a blend of classic 4AD and a metallic environment warmly wrapping around the music. Extra-long, »Quem és tu?« poses the question – Who are we? Who is she? And the title »Kissom« stems from another question Xexa often hears from people, »Ki som é este?« (What is this music?). The answer might well be the artist's own paste of the words »kiss« and »som«. Lovely.

Die Cut Sleeve with download. It’s a strange betweenworld, bookended by sleep and the jolt of being wide awake in a place where you wonder how you got there. You know the feeling… It seems familiar but the colours are, well, unreal. In a high-ceilinged room, a grand piano plays lush melodies as, meanwhile, somewhere, an Alice In Wonderland clock ticks, cellos are bowed, a swarm of something vibrates and the hallucinatory crowd around Rosemary’s Baby babble. An echoey electronic hum builds and falls like a 50s refrigerator passed through and effects board, things run backwards, staccato strings are plucked… and that’s not the half of it. “I’ve never been happy staying in one particular school of musical thought. The fun has been turning things on their heads, to try something you were not supposed to do.” We’re on an immersive and adventurous travelogue with the former member of the legendary Tangerine Dream, Paul Haslinger - this is a man who knows how to build tension, hold moods, illustrate contempt, lies, passion and pleasure; He can create fear, loathing and love - he’s been unlocking the nuances of such emotions in a hugely successful career as a TV and film soundtrack composer (Halt And Catch Fire, Underworld and the Golden Globe-nominated Sleeper Cell). ‘Exit Ghost’ is his long thought out opus, a moment caught in time, flicking through reference points, taking an ethereal excursion that permeates musical genres as it becomes awash with intricate sounds and cross-pollinating rhythms. Built originally from the warmth of his grand piano ‘Exit Ghost’ resonates with purity and power, from an eerie and evocative betweenworld, that’s at once expansive and rolling, then intoxicating and suffocating in equal measures; modern composition at its most uplifting; cerebral, celebratory, intense and beautiful. “The soul searching in connection with this record was extensive. Finding places of resonance, giving a colour to your memories. It was more challenging because it’s not somebody else’s narrative. Finding the core of your own story can be the most difficult task of all.” Created over the span of eight years and filled with literal and personal references, the album itself is a testament to the search - a quest filled with hints, particles and suggestions.

Originally released as an edition of 50 lathe-cut LPs housed in silk-screened jackets in 2020 (fast on the heels of What's Tonight To Eternity), Cat O' Nine Tails has long intrigued die-hard Cindy Lee fans with its combination of the classic songwriting that would dominate Diamond Jubilee a few years later and an actual suite of classical songs under the title itself.

Opening with the gothic soap opera theme of "Our Lady Of Sorrows" into the manic exploration of "Cat O' Nine Tails," onto the dusty western walk through Patrick Flegel's lovely guitar work on "Faith Restored," the album seems to soundtrack the coolest movie the late '60s ever produced. All of this builds to the lush and sweeping ballad of bruised hearts that introduces that beautiful voice via "Love Remains."

Side Two sees 2024 live show closer "Cat O' Nine Tails III" complete the suite to epic effect, before introducing the absolute showstopper that is "I Don't Want To Fall In Love Again." It is tender and fragile in that way that only Flegel can make both familiar and unique. Closing with the ethereal soul shuffle stomp of "Bondage Of The Mind," the album showcases nine songs from an essential time in the Cindy Lee evolution.

W.25TH / Superior Viaduct bring this collection to the larger audience as it deserves.

Moving freely through time and space via experimental DIY recordings since 2009, Joasihno return with their fourth album "Spots".

“Find your spot in the shade,” a truly laid-back and incredibly soft-spoken MC once advised, yet in a world that seems to get shadier every day, it’s probably time to finally get out and face the sun. Southern German experimental pop duo Joasihno – initial solo founder Cico Beck (The Notwist, Aloa Input, Spirit Fest) and drummer/composer Nico Sierig (Instrument, Fehler Kuti) – seem to know exactly when it’s time to shine. Idiosyncratic genre tweakers since day one, they have been operating at their own pace, mostly staying in their own shady corner. Yet, almost a decade after their most recent “Meshes” (an album that came with a whole legion of tiny music robots), it’s high time for them to take over more corners, to reclaim even more spots between lo-fi and sci-fi, retro electronica and contemporary classic. Drawing upon influences as varied as Reich, Riley, and Ryuichi, múm, Meek, and Moondog, while also nodding to other experimental twosomes (e.g. The Books), the duo’s fourth full-length “Spots” is set to arrive via Alien Transistor in late 2025.

Leaving soulless automation and all things artificial to others, Joasihno launch the latest record on “2 Squares” that feel like a peaceful, almost bucolic version of retro space age: lights blink ever so softly as easy-going bass tones point at today’s introspective flight arc. Electronic shapes align and things lift off – with a majestic 8-bit sunrise soon appearing right in front of us. Whereas playful title song “Spots” is a miniature Rube Goldberg kind of device, with quirky plucked strings and glitches setting off more and more contraption layers, “Crackleboom” is uncharted energy, an open landscape, an expanding bonfire that leads to a long-forgotten piano, all dust-covered in some kind of saloon. Space might be only noise to others, here, it’s foreboding screeches (“Dizzle Whistle”) that make room for A-side center piece “Forest Lights”: a steady beat that lures us to a clearance in the woods. Things break and shatter in the distance, but this spot right here is for hypnosis, dancing, sylvan spirits. And yeah, it’s surprisingly hot down here in the undergrowth…

Opening side B with a fun banger that takes the unhinged dancing to the playground – “Characa Orb.” feels like French kids on swings going crazy, a tipsy, tongue-in-cheek electro blow-out between Oizo and Orbis Tertius –, things get even more cinematic throughout the second half. Even the cheapest, lo-fiest gear is sufficient to make “The Slow Hour” glow like true, timeless pop royalty. In fact, the very same pop spirits roam and celebrate freely in the chirpy coves of mesmerizing “Detune Lagoon” – more hand-crafted sci-fi/lo-fi loops you’ll only find after facing the ghosts of Lynch or Sakamoto on those night-time trails under the “Deep Moon”. It’s all DIY spots, spots that leave room to dream or dangle, drape yourself over or dive into. Returning to the leafy bower on a melancholy post rock tip, we eventually learn that “Death Is Real” – and so we’re left with a laterna magica that turns and turns and turns. It’s a beautiful spot where light and shadows keep on dancing, just like they’ve always done, ever since the dawn of this madcap universe.

From the upcoming album 'Smoke & Fire', a meaningful collaboration with Ashanti Selah & Hark, merging message music styles in the heart of Bristol's vibrant scene!

'Let's Seek Love' is more than just a song - it's a reminder to seek out positivity and light, even when the world around us seems uncertain; we must keep the faith and know that unity is the strength that keeps us going on.

Big up to all the musicians that was apart of making & creating the visuals for this vibe to become a reality! Also a big shout out to all the staff at the Trinity Centre & Teachings in Dub for keeping the sound system culture that keeps our music alive for ones to gather in ️ & harmony every time!

Seven Blood make music that manages to move the listener despite its hard-hitting sounds. Metal meets Emo-Core. Their songs revive the seemingly lost connection between volume and emotionality. However, they refrain from imitating existing bands and create their own sound, which complements the music of their youth with the band's own character. It all started in spring 2023. Anfy, Azaria, and Oli were going through strong personal crises, had known each other for several years, and decided to do what helps most in such a situation: process the pain together through songwriting. Shortly after, Josi joined and completed the band. Their lyrics deal with personal struggles and observations of our society, whether it's the toxicity of individuals or the ignorant attitude of an entire species. Seven Blood embed these lyrics in a brutal wall of sound that gives their thoughtfulness a furious undertone. The combined force of drums, bass, and guitar rises behind the vocals and is complemented by the ethereal and sometimes biting sounds of fanfares and synths. All of this culminates in a musical high that gives the listener the feeling that everything, and simultaneously nothing, is okay.

Seven Blood make music that manages to move the listener despite its hard-hitting sounds. Metal meets Emo-Core. Their songs revive the seemingly lost connection between volume and emotionality. However, they refrain from imitating existing bands and create their own sound, which complements the music of their youth with the band's own character. It all started in spring 2023. Anfy, Azaria, and Oli were going through strong personal crises, had known each other for several years, and decided to do what helps most in such a situation: process the pain together through songwriting. Shortly after, Josi joined and completed the band. Their lyrics deal with personal struggles and observations of our society, whether it's the toxicity of individuals or the ignorant attitude of an entire species. Seven Blood embed these lyrics in a brutal wall of sound that gives their thoughtfulness a furious undertone. The combined force of drums, bass, and guitar rises behind the vocals and is complemented by the ethereal and sometimes biting sounds of fanfares and synths. All of this culminates in a musical high that gives the listener the feeling that everything, and simultaneously nothing, is okay.

For his last solo record ‘Through a Room’, Bill Nace shifted his usual saturated guitar sound and added tapes, hurdy gurdy, doughnut pipe, bird calls and the mysterious Japanese taishōgoto. Setting up for the final night of his three day residency at OTO with only the taishōgoto soundchecked, Nace hoped that Parker would arrive with his small soprano as its opposite. “I’ve been interested in state change, you know, playing until there’s a shift in time.” Known for his development of multiphonics to produce a constantly shifting pattern, Evan Parker has evolved an instantly recognizable sound - his work the soprano most distinct. Happily, it was the soprano Evan brought with him and as soon as the two start to play they entwine - taking off in a double helix of keys and reed primed for endless reconfiguration. Space warps under the velocity of playing, the pitch rising unrelentingly. It felt like unending lift off in the room, sheer energy until the last note makes remember your feet have been on the floor the whole time. Total time bending shredding.

–

"They had never played together before. They had never even met each other before this springtime 2024 concert at London’s Café Oto.

Evan Parker, circular breathing maestro of the saxophone, a legend in the universe that is Free Improvisation since the late 1960s and Bill Nace, one of the most intriguing experimental “noise” guitarists of the 1990s/2000s underground scene.

For those of us who have been enamored by the live and documented work of both these gents, this Café Oto duo was a must-hear event. It could have gone anywhere musically and that would have been totally fine. Particularly with Evan having a history of being thrown into a variety of challenging collaborations throughout his career, employing the learned elegance of trust in his own sensitivity to listening, responding, leading, following, sparring, intertwining, dialoguing, creating in the instant and, essentially, dignifying the non-hierarchical grace of chance.

The aesthetics of socialist consideration in Evan Parker’s playing, in his community of expanded and personal technique, for a younger player such as Bill Nace, strikes an exemplary model. This notion of respect would be entirely the reason Nace, when offered a residency at the most critical “new music” room in England, would request to play in duo with Parker.

Bill Nace came to prominence mostly during the apex of experimental music activity in and around Western Massachusetts in the early days of the aughts, with a focus on visual art and free improvisation guitar action. He could be found in the daytime hours, his head hanging down over a notepad, penning fine-tuned illustrations and abstract line drawings, while in the evenings he’d be attending any number of basement noise gigs, many of which he’d be participating in. His guitar style came across as being informed as much as by the physicality of his writing utensils in friction to the page as it was to his hearing and redefining of radical recordings ranging anywhere from the Black Unity Group to Black Flag.

Utilizing various metal files and other small cylindrical objects Bill would allow his guitar and amplifier to be in tandem with the improvisatory movements of his body as the instrument balanced, intentionally and, at times, precariously, upon his lap. The performances came across thrilling and daring and they would be mostly in the context of venues nothing more than a low-ceilinged damp and dank New England basement, a clutch of people hanging onto rusty pipes or sitting up on dilapidated washer/dryer machines, the shards of Bill’s “file guitar” sounds ringing out like the most alive music on Earth.

By the time Bill reached Café Oto in early 2024 he had relocated to Philadelphia all the while releasing a succession of collaborative LPs on his Open Mouth label to present his developing progression of solo and collaborative work. He also would find himself considerably engaged with playing the electric taishōgoto, a keyboard-activated string instrument from Japan which can exist as a one, two, four, five, or six string oblong sound object. Bill’s approach to the taishōgoto would not be too unlike his approach to the traditional electric guitar, though no outboard implements such as files, sticks, and rocks are utilized. The similarity would lie wholly with Bill’s full immersion of high velocity action-playing where, with the taishōgoto, an electric drone beauty occurs. The flurry of sonics and resultant harmonics emanating from the amplifier (which Bill opts to dial into with borderline loud-as fuck volume settings) furthers the meta-mantra properties of the instrument in an astounding display of drone dynamism.

This sound world of Bill’s two-stringed taishōgoto on this Café Oto night worked beautifully with Evan Parker’s improvisatory saxophone conceptions. The duology achieved instant lift off at ground zero only to find it’s eventual finale as if it were organically ordained. Time seemingly morphed from its ancient human construct of control, rendered inconsequential to the torrential transcendence of the room wildly activated by the magic resonance of the multi-directional pan-spatial sonance of the music as if it were some beatific blessing. It was one of those nights where art as a liberating force of spirit gifted the listeners with an offering of exaltation and joy. It was entirely mystical and mind blowing. A night of Total Music."

Thurston Moore, London, 2025

Interstitial Spaces is Martin Brandlmayr’s debut release on Faitiche. In this award-winning radio collage, the well-known drummer and composer (Radian, Polwechsel) explores the quiet moments in music and film recordings.

The last notes of a piece of music fade out in the space. The pianist and the violinist remain frozen in place, holding their breath. The sound engineer sits silently at the desk. Once he has switched off his tape machine, the dull drone of a ship’s horn is heard in the distance. Otherwise, not a sound. Or was there something else hidden in the white noise?

Interstitial Spaces is based on short excerpts from music recordings, films, TV adverts and field recordings. Brandlmayr takes these quiet scenes, intervals in which nothing seems to happen, and brings them into the foreground, subjecting them to a microscopic spotlight. Moments in which one hears only the space itself, or the subtle presence of someone in the space: faint breathing, footsteps and the soft creak of a chair. We also hear preparations for an orchestra rehearsal: the musicians are all busy tuning their instruments, talking to each other, the concert has not yet begun.

This leads to a shift in perception: incidental details hidden in the hubbub of voices or in the silence suddenly take on a leading role. In the empty spaces, we discover various shades of noise, sharpening our awareness of sonic peculiarities. In a gentle rhythm, Brandlmayr’s radio collage offers a sequence of strange, not immediately identifiable sounds that are woven in the second part into a dense structure. At the end, the carefully captured sounds are released back into the empty space. Interstitial Spaces is a bold spectacle that celebrates the eventful uneventfulness.

Fresh from the success of 2024"s "Hombres", "Gun" continue their comeback with this revitalised edition of Swagger. Originally released in 1994, the album featured their hit single "Word Up", a cover of the Cameo"s pop song that they transformed into their own tongue-in-cheek hard rock banger which charted all over Europe and went to the top 10 in the UK. The Deluxe Double CD package contains a 24 page booklet with brand new liner notes written by Joel McIver featuring an interview with Dante (vocals) and Giuliani "Jools" Gizzi (guitar), plus archive photos from the original singles. The Green Vinyl version features renewed and replicated cover art, and contains an 8 page insert with brand new liner notes written by Joel McIver featuring an interview with Dante (vocals) and Giuliani "Jools" Gizzi (guitar), plus archive photos from the original singles.

For our ninth offering we have ventured out of our small but fertile swamp in search of another source of magick. Meandering across boggy pastures new, we crossed paths with Steevio, who sat hovering serenely in the fern covered shade of a nearby valley. Instantly recognising the singular vision of this fabled artist, we hastily gathered our nets and cast them under Steevio’s branches, capturing four beautiful offerings as they wriggled towards us. Upon the return to our mulch, it became clear that we could not contain Steevio’s creations, so willful was their vitality. It was therefore all we could do to release them back to the universal dance from whence they came.

The dance germinates with the writhing polyrhythmic ‘Apricity’. Hearing the crunch of frost laden grass beneath our webbed toes, we look above us to search for the sun. Angular beams of light escape over the horizon, as the warmth of Steevio’s machines coalesce. A glistening hi hat breaks through the membrane to bind his creation and anchor its ever shifting arms.

‘Octopus’ glides gracefully through a sun-dappled kelp forest. Sub frequencies rumble up from the shadowy darkness below, rippling along the fronds as they ascend. As the ocean begins to churn, a wriggling melodic tentacle parts the foliage, gleaming with primordial energy. Its joyful visit to the surface realm leaves us with a brief yet powerful reminder of the mystery beneath.

The glow of the midwinter sun warms our bones on ‘Apricity (Sunrise Mix)’. Percussive elements bubble out of the depths, forming intricate cascading patterns as they grow over the perfectly formed kicks. The moog filter tames the brew with Steevio’s intuitive restraint , until he releases its mighty power upon the gleeful forest dwellers, to their rapturous gratitude.

With ‘Adref’ we return home. The sedate tempo provides oceanic space for a melody which inhales and exhales over a familiar landscape of perfectly tuned percussion. With each breath the melody seems to increase its reach, until it’s buried deep within our bones, its memory resonating on long after it’s gone.

Steevio’s music reflects the universal moments where seemingly chaotic and disparate elements are suddenly revealed to be perfectly harmonious. Of course examples of this are always universally present in nature, and have been eternally, but we have to be reminded to appreciate them. In the same way that a wave deposits a perfect line of shells on a beach, dew freezes on grass, or individual strands of mycelial hyphae bind together to form incredible patterns, Steevio’s music is likewise; effortlessly considered. For us, it has more in common with the unrelenting flow of a river than it does with dance music. It is psychedelic music in the same sense that nature is intuitively psychedelic; without ever leaning into any tried tropes of what is culturally considered ‘psychedelic’ music.

From its modest beginnings as a university project, Anjuna has grown to become one of the most influential forces in electronic music. What began as, and remains, a passion project has evolved into a global electronic music powerhouse. Led by Jono Grant, Paavo Siljamäki, Tony McGuinness (better known as Above & Beyond) and label exec James Grant - Anjuna now spans three distinctive imprints: Anjunabeats, Anjunadeep and Anjunachill. To mark the label’s 25th anniversary, Above & Beyond and James have carefully curated a selection of picks from its rich catalogue that includes countless genre defining releases to present the label’s most expansive vinyl offering to date.

Covering the full spectrum of that 25 year journey, the ten vinyl box chronicles 84 of the label’s most iconic releases across all three labels, including a vinyl dedicated to label founders Above & Beyond. Encased in a custom outer slipcase box with a debossed foil Anjuna25 logo. Accompanying the ten vinyl is a 48-page perfect-bound booklet printed on premium art paper and textured cover stock, featuring track-by-track insights from artists and Anjuna HQ staffers delving into the stories behind each record and their reflections on 25 years of music. The Anjuna25 anniversary box set is a beautifully presented tribute to 25 years of innovation, artistry and emotional connection.

Volpe is the finely tuned trio led by Ghent-based pianist Heleen Andriessen. Drummer Stijn Demuynck and bassist Kobe Boon support Andriessen's lyrical melodies with an infectious groove. The carefully crafted compositions alternate between energetic and melancholic, allowing the listener to feel immersed in a warm bath while transporting them to an uncanny world.

'elders' (Dutch for "elsewhere"), doesn't refer to a physical place but to a refuge in Heleen's mind-a sanctuary where she searches for beauty on gray, rainy November days. A simple detail taken from everyday life can serve as a gateway to this hopeful, imaginative world. Musically, this translates to repetitive patterns that gradually evolve or suddenly burst open. Subtle dissonance is welcome here, with the band lovingly embracing the slight disruption it offers. Heleen's playful runs and Stijn Demuynck's grooves balance the melancholic undertones. Seemingly simple melodies tell stories and offer familiarity to listening ears.

keywords: piano trio, contemporary jazz, keith jarrett, modal jazz, minimalist

The word "amateur" originates from the Latin word "amator," meaning "lover" or "admirer". This Latin term is derived from "amare," which means "to love". The French adopted "amateur" from Latin, and the English then borrowed it from French, initially retaining the sense of someone who loves or is devoted to something. Over time, the English usage of "amateur" also developed a meaning related to a lack of professional skill or experience. How did a word derived from love become a slur? Is love really so defenseless? They say love conquers all, but in reality isn’t love quite ridiculous? It has no intention, no motive, no agenda. How could it possibly prevail? It can’t be bought or sold, or so they say.Its mere existence can't be proven or even measured. What an impossible thing. Trying and failing, time and time again, no wonder cynicism always seems to win. I see “amateurism” as a delighted, even foolish, protest. Protest against everything. Of what’s expected of someone, or expected of someone to desire or strive for. To be elite, to be expert, to be professional, to be a master, to excel and succeed. Where’s the joy in that? I just want to have fun. I want to want. I want to love. And keep doing it, forever. I want to have fun, even when it’s tiring and sometimes even heaven is boring as hell. I want to be bad. I want to do my own thing. “I vant to be alone”. I want to be someone so dedicated to their passion that it starts to seem like there’s something wrong with them. All the way. We can take it all the way, and never get it back. ” - Molly Nilsson Amateur is the 12th studio album by Molly Nilsson. Deep in the teeth of a career that threatens to tip into something resembling a “legacy,” Molly Nilsson celebrates with an album recorded instinctively, quickly and bursting with so many moments of emotional brilliance and clarity it may be her greatest yet. Hers has been a career spent reaching out, perennially powerful in her earnestness, a warrior ridiculously defenceless and armed with a glittering sincerity. Shearing herself of the machinations of the music industry, recording at home, writing direct to the heart. Amateur is a jubilee for losers. A treatise in 13 songs, Amateur states clearly that we should live our life with eternal curiosity, offers us an open hand of comradeship out of the rat race. The songs on the album are both some of the most personal of Nilsson’s career and the most anthemic. First single How Much Is The World asks us to re-evaluate value in the face of a Neo-liberal system squeezing the life out of our loves. Pulsing opener Die Cry Lie satirises the commercialisation of emotion in the form of a shout-along diss-track. With a pounding rhythm track held down by gorgeous chord changes, heartbreaker Valhalla carries the torch for the main themes of the album: never growing up, making mistakes with kindness, moving on. When the drums crash in on the line “It’s going to get better now, you’ll see, going to be much better off without me” there is a world of feeling swirling about in the vocal delivery. One reading of the track might be that it’s a break up song but the subtext is classic Molly Nilsson: by living truthfully, making mistakes, we’re active agents against the myriad oppressions of the world. All The Way takes the theme for a run into the eternal sunset. It’s a manifesto for living fully. “Take it all the way, and never get it back” - it’s the process that’s the important point. The journey not the destination. Big Life, follows on like a part 2: An ode not only to Molly Nilsson’s career of endless gigs, endless connections with people, it’s a massive ode for following your dreams, doing it yourself. Closer The Bitter End is a powerful anthem for friendship, another definition of love infused in Nilsson’s work, A beautifully poignant ode to comradeship til the end, it seems to be the songwriter approaching aging, approaching life’s inevitability with the same vigour and earnestness, the same love of life she enjoyed at the onset of her career. There are moments on Amateur shrouded in reverb, slightly out of focus, forcing the listener to step deeper into the Mollyverse.. Nilsson’s open-armed beseeching to the world permeates every beat, every chord. These are songs exploding with life: the chunky, aggressive bassline on the punker Get A Life can’t hide its massive, catchy chorus. The sweeping Swedish Nightmare might be a tongue-in-cheek self-reference, but at its heart it’s a song about the duality of living life large, what is a dream, what is a nightmare? Molly Nilsson says you can’t have one without the other, and why would you want to? Here’s to making mistakes.

Anushka Chkheidze + Robert Lippok’s »Uncontrollable Thoughts« on Morr Music is the duo’s debut joint release. The Netherlands-based Georgian composer and the German sound artist from Berlin first met in 2019 in the context of a workshop programme that took place in Tbilisi, and later worked with Eto Gelashvili, Hayk Karoyi, and Lillevan on the massive »Glacier Music II« music and book project, released in 2021. This led them to engage in a less conceptually driven form of musicking and real-time composition that corresponds with their respective environments. They draw on traditions such as minimal music or late 1990s and early 2000s electronica to integrate subtle beats with elegiac organ drones, playful melodies with lush textures. The first document of an ever-shifting intergenerational dialogue, »Uncontrollable Thoughts« is a product of mutual listening outside time.

Though Chkheidze and Lippok had access to professional studios, they chose to rent a simple rehearsal space, equipped with only the bare essentials—bass and guitar amps as well as a small PA—to maintain immediacy in their working process. The music they made together corresponded to and drew on the respective possibilities and shortcomings of this studio, much like their collaboration in general is characterised by the care with which they approach each other's talents and ideas. While both had loosely defined roles—Chkheidze was responsible for the free-flowing beat programming and the evocative distortion came courtesy of Lippok, for example—they individually contributed in different ways to their joint process, which is as free of hierarchies as it is limitless. Hence, the duo’s focus on spontaneity and out-of-the-moment emergence makes them organically move beyond tried and tested conventions, resulting in music that seems to suspend time altogether.

When the first chimes on »Bird Song« announce a piece that sets rattling kickdrums against a backdrop of layered drones and rhizomatically entangled melodic elements, it becomes clear why »Uncontrollable Thoughts« carries this title: The album follows the constant detours of the subconscious of its makers, letting them explore moments of ecstasy such as on »Rainbow,« melancholy with »Field,« and the interplay of suspense and release through the ten-minute-long title track. But the different pieces also tie into one aother in various ways. The dirge-like organ drones on which »Rainbow Road« ends reappear in the beginning of »Uncontrollable Thoughts,« much like Chkheidze’s gentle yet emphatic piano chords on »Field« seem to provide the starting point from which the artist develops the striking motifs of the final piece »Opening«, whose title itself suggests that the record as a whole can and should be enjoyed as a loop. All this creates a unique, idiosyncratic temporal logic.

While there is much that sets Chkheidze and Lippok apart as solo artists, the major shared leitmotif in their respective bodies of work is the sonic engagement with space. »Uncontrollable Thoughts« is hence best understood as an extension of this practice; as an album that maps the geographies of their minds in motion, tracing musical movements as they melt into each other.

Chris Menist pares his sound right back for A book of imaginary beings, his fourth Awkward Corners outing with a project of electronic and abstracted global grooves. Experimenting with simple melodies and uncluttered arrangements, as well as taking inspiration from the Borges' short stories alluded to in the title, the project took shape in the early part of 2025, in the shorter days and dark evenings of January.

The initial challenge was to knock a basic track into shape each evening after work, then refine it later. There's a melancholy in the air in late winter, compounded by the creeping threat of national and geopolitical instability. Ulla, Natural Information Society, Jabu, Torso and Dawuna formed some of the background soundtrack as each tune took shape.

The track titles came after sitting with the sounds for a while, giving shape to images of people, creatures and their stories for a book that is yet to be written.

Two former friends sets the tone for the album perfectly as a minimal electronic piece with a slowly simmering synth bassline underpinning the groove whilst the trademark Awkward sound of the Shahi Baaja enters drenched in effects. It's the first demonstration of Chris' unique ability to create a world from apparently very little.

Dance of the silver beetles is completely unique in that we can hear chopped up Illimba samples seemingly playing backwards and forewords sometimes alone, sometimes together in duet with Chris' conga rhythms. Add to that a more conventional Illimba melody and added shaker percussion and you have one of A book of imaginary beings most curious chapters.

Anxious shadow puppets is closer to the Awkward Corners sound from previous albums as electronic pulses move around the arrangement with the urgency that the track title suggests. Chris' percussive roots move to the fore with the congas that tie down the Paradise Bangkok Molam International Band's sound. Here, the bassline is more playful and works together with one of Chris' many African Illimbas.

Fans of Chris' adventures on his Roland 808 will dig A leopard with no spots, although the minimal mood continues to flow through on this track. The lolloping, but hard-hitting rhythm track provides the grounding for strange and twisting feedback-sounding tones to work the soundscape.

Abandoned boy (left in charge of the family business) is Awkward Corners at his atmospheric best. Drift off to the sublime sounds of Chris exploring the Shahi Baaja, whilst a soft, repetitive synth line and abstracted pads give the listener that feeling of meditation and peace.

Flamingo with bandaged neck is A book of imaginary beings' perfect coda and is exclusively Shahi Baaja draped in reverbs and delays. It feels like the resolution and the closing of a book that – as of yet – remains unwritten.

Awkward Corners is Chris Menist, a musician, DJ and writer. It started life as a small project in Islamabad, where Chris was living at the time. Initial recordings were made with local musicians in Pakistan and then subsequently in Thailand. This culminated in the Sweet Decay LP that came out on Finders Keepers' Disposable Music in 2014, and in turn led to a limited tape release on Boomkat/Reel Torque of original compositions and re-edits of Thai 45s the same year. Chris released – Dislocation Songs – his second LP proper with Shapes of Rhythm in May 2020, collaborating on many of the tracks with award-winning performer Sarathy Korwar. The LP was picked up by many radio stations including NTS, Resonance FM, BBC 6 Music, Balamii and many more. It made Tom Ravenscroft's LPs of 2020. Amateur Dramatics, Chris' second LP arrived just a year later in 2021 and was a more ambitious project featuring more jazz-focussed compositions and featuring Tamar Osborn and Kitty Whitelaw. Shortly after that came another pivot with the heavier, dancefloor-friendly EP Somebody Somewhere. Somebody Somewhere is Dancing in a Field brought the House (yes House!) vibes, whilst Hector Plimmer turned in a remix of No Words in the same club mood.

As one of NTS Radio's longest-standing presenters, Chris continues to hold down the Paradise Bangkok show. Playing drums and percussion since he was a kid, Chris is the percussionist for The Paradise Bangkok Molam International Band as well as co-founding the record label of the same name. Chris has curated compilations for labels such as Finders Keepers, Soundway and Dust-To-Digital. He has been featured on the Boiler Room, Vinyl Factory Collections, played at the Four Tet curated Nuits Sonores festival, and has put together an edition of Volumes which featured unreleased Awkward Corners compositions.






[d] 04: All the Goodbyes (You Tried to Defer) [Original]





[j] 10: Abandoned Boy (Left in Charge of the Family Business) [Original]

The most inspiring bands are the ones that can create a world around themselves that is about far more than just the music. The artwork, lyrics, sounds and ethos all merge together perfectly to create its own universe, a secret club. The Lovely Eggs are one such band. And against all the odds, 2025 sees them celebrate their 20th anniversary as a band! Stubbornly and heroically independent, The Lovely Eggs have forged their own path and have achieved mainstream success without ever compromising their DIY ethics. Released on their own label Egg Records, with eye watering artwork by Casey Raymond and hand packed in a black plastic bin bag on neon toxic slime green vinyl, this is yet another collectible release from a band who care as much about the art and ideas in their records as they do about the sound. "We had all these spare songs after we released our last album Eggsistentialism and we didn't really know what to do with them," explained Holly. "They just didn't seem to fit in with the vibe of Eggsistentialism but we'd recorded them and wanted to get them out there." "They're kind of a sketchbook of songs," added David. "They're not polished or laboured over but we thought it would be interesting to release them. It's why we called the record Bin Juice. These were songs we had thrown away. But hopefully people like going through bins collecting trash."

The anticipation is there in Elizabeth Stokes’ solo guitar riff under the opening lines of “I’m Not Getting Excited”: a frenetic, driving force daring a packed Auckland Town Hall to do exactly the opposite of what the track title suggests.

As the opener of The Beths’ Auckland, New Zealand, 2020 expands to include the full band, the crowd screeches and bellows. It’s a collective exhalation, in one of the few countries where live music is still possible.

The album title, and film of the same name, deliberately include the date and location, lead guitarist Jonathan Pearce says. “That’s the sensational part of what we actually did.” In a mid-pandemic world, playing to a heaving, enraptured home crowd feels miraculous.

In March 2020, everything seemed on track for another huge year for The Beths. Home after an 18-month northern hemisphere tour, they had just finished recording sophomore album Jump Rope Gazers and were primed for more extensive touring. But within days, New Zealand’s lockdown split the band between three separate houses. All touring was cancelled.

“It was existentially bad,” Stokes says. As well as worrying about economic survival, they lost something crucial to the band’s identity: live performance. “It's a huge part of how we see ourselves... What does it mean, if we can't play live?”

The band found an outlet through live-streaming, returning to the do-it-yourself mentality of their early days to connect with a global audience. The album and film have their genesis in that urge to share the now-rare experience of a live show, as widely as possible.

The fuzzy-round-the-edges live-streams pointed the way aesthetically. Native birds, wonkily crafted by the band from tissue paper and wire, festoon the venue’s cavernous ceiling while house plants soften and disguise the imposing pipes of an organ. The presence of the film crew isn’t disguised: much of the camerawork is handheld; full of fast zooms and pans.

With much of the material still fresh, the band was less focused on re-invention than playing “a good, fast rock show”, Pearce says. The tempo is up on crowd favourites “Whatever” and “Future Me Hates Me” (released as a live single on its third anniversary) as both band and audience feed off the mutual energy in the room.

Certain songs have taken on special resonance post-Covid. Pearce has found “Out Of Sight”, a tender rumination on long-distance relationships, hits particularly hard with live audiences.

Album closer “River Run” visibly brings Stokes to tears as a mix of achievement and relief kicks in. “You can finally relax at that point … You play the last note, breathe out a sigh and look up - and you’re in a giant room full of people happy and smiling.”

SDK is the collaboration between Stano and David Kitt. Stano, a post-punk pioneer from Dublin, is known for his strikingly individual work. A recurring collaborator with All City, Going Back to the Unknown marks his first new material for the label and his return to vocal work after many years.

The project began after a chance meeting at All City led to a connection with David Kitt. In Kitt’s studio, guitars, pedals, tape delay, and synths combined to form dense, dreamlike textures. The music moves between ambient atmospheres, layered guitars, and fractured song forms. Stano’s words appear only where the music calls for them:

“I just turned the pages until the right lyric appeared — I like when the music dictates what the words should be.”

On the collaborative process, Stano adds:

“There wasn’t a conscious decision, it was just a reaction to what David was playing. It seemed to happen organically, we were really on the same wavelength. At the end of that day I knew we had something really interesting.”

The result is Going Back to the Unknown, a collection shaped as much by intuition and chance as by design. The album is completed by Kitt’s contribution “Fireworks,” which seals the record’s arc.

Pruillip is a new Belgian band founded by Louis Evrard (Bert Dockx Band, Grid Ravage, Ottla) and Annelies Van Dinter (Echo Beatty, Takh & Naga Ghost). The duo started about 2 years ago after a request to play at De Nor, the open air sculpture park and venue of Dennis Tyfus. For this occasion Annelies and Louis decided to do a position switch and play each other's instruments: Annelies beating the hell out of the drums and Louis ripping up the guitar.

Pruillip: the record

Visceral meditation: that's what the self titled debut album of Pruillip is all about. Eight songs channeling elemental emotions, kickin' deep into the internal organs of the body. Low end frequency swagger droning up from Louis Evrard's amp, ready to slip into 'Place All Your Cards', slow burning sludge nugget, bolstered by the steady drum kicks of Annelies Van Dinter, where every note and strike seems to carry the weight of the world. Navigating through life, seducing you with her gloomy voice. Entering a quest into the unknown, a place you don't want to leave. A feeling increased by the abrasive and brutal 'Boterham': a punk sludge anthem for the hungry and the wild at heart, countered with the reverb-shrouded murmur 'Distracted Enthusiasm'. The lonely 'Zonnedauw' sets the mark of an apparently more resigned B-side, stretching the Pruillip universe with primitive, but so addictive, riffs in 'Mirrors', echoing vibes of 90's desert sessions while 'Offload' and the lucid state of Ataraxia seems to drift on raw emotions and a sweaty claustrophobic tension, which would fit perfectly in Wim Wenders Paris Texas movie. A whirlwind of a record, straight to the bone, leaving you flabbergasted and wanting for more.

"The very last day of recording the album that became checkmate, Ron Gallo wrote and recorded the title track. Which, in his words, half-jokingly, is ""my first true love song that also happens to be the best love song ever written"". It encapsulates the entire purpose of the album which takes his previous motto - ""The world is fucked, but the universe is inside you"" and changes it to ""The world is ending, what can I hold on to?"".

After years of navigating artistic reinvention and resisting change, Ron Gallo arrives at his latest album, checkmate, with a newfound clarity and sense of purpose. Stripped down and direct, checkmate marks a reset: a shedding of old selves, old anger, and the need for introspection. Social commentary has always been a driving force behind Gallo’s music, and checkmate finds the bridge between personal inner dialogues and cultural analysis, grasping the vulnerability he once avoided.

What remains here is distilled: raw thoughts about love, identity, and survival in a collapsing world. Gallo calls it “a process to kill off my old self,” a release from years of hiding, whether it’s behind a comic veil or a wall of instruments and noise. With checkmate, he finds himself aligned with a new audience who have found his music through social media riffs turned viral smashes, 7am Songs, who come with no preconceived notions—only a desire to connect. The personal vulnerability found in these songs are far more relatable than Gallo could have first imagined. Inner dialogues we all seem to be having, but struggling to find the words for, until now."

Emily A. Sprague's Cloud Time traces an audio-spiritual journey through time and place, recorded across a long-awaited debut tour of Japan in the fall of 2024. Compiled from environmental improvisations captured in and for the moment, material at once welcoming, responsive, and inimitable, the album distills a voyage guided by psychic wayfaring, unbound presence, and activating performance for a reciprocal exchange with space, listener, and each fully engaged instant. The Japanese tour documented on Cloud Time held an almost mythic significance for Sprague, taking on properties of her own sonic white whale. After many near-departures and dropped plans to play in the country, "the empty spaces of cancelled trips and forgotten music turned into strange little misty spirits that I felt followed by," she says. "When I began preparing for the tour, I couldn't shake a sense that the invitation to Japan was more about opening myself up to this new place instead of bringing something into it tightly under my control. Improvisation has always been such a pillar in my music practice, and I really wanted to meet the country, spaces and people through that process." To amplify these intuitive whispers on-stage, Sprague reimagined her time-tested live rig, designed to be as free from error as possible, as a looser, more flexible set up that would allow her to interface with what was essentially a blank sonic canvas every night. Each performance became a collaboration between environment and instinct, Sprague processing the events, energies, and emotions informing the evening through her new sound ecosystem, and projecting an entirely present and unique version of herself to each open-eared and hearted crowd. "It was very much more than just an act of playing for me, but a total experience of time and place," she says. The seven long-form pieces that plot the course of Cloud Time, excerpted from over eight hours of recordings archived on the artist's on-stage recorder and generously shared on the album with no additional mixing and only minimal editing, invite listeners to become still in these deep-rooted moments of presence as the album moves from city to city, venue to venue. Cloud Time chronicles material recorded at each tour stop, Sprague selecting and sequencing the album around mood-based storytelling more so than linear chronology. "I tried to make the whole album flow in the way that any one of the complete live performances did," she explains, "while also keeping the spirit of the whole thing as a journey." The result is equal parts travelog, love letter, and impressionistic collage channeled from the potent ferment of a now encased in the glowing amber of memory. Intrinsically inspired by kankyo ongaku, an environmental music philosophy, known both in and widely outside of Japan that tunes into the similarly expansive ethos as Pauline Oliveros' deep listening practice and posits the listener as composer, Cloud Time is ambient music that seems to be listening right back, grounded in heartfelt synthesized frequencies that abundantly hold and heal. Pieces like "Nagoya," "Tokyo 1," and the ten minute "Matsumoto" in particular hum with the atomic resonance of gently tended landscapes, offering space for tuning way in and dropping far out from perspectives that stifle and bind. Cloud Time is an invitation to embrace each moment as both fleeting and eternal, floating by with nothing to grasp onto and absolutely everything to gain. The exercise in acceptance and letting go that Sprague practiced throughout the tour deeply impacted her understanding of self as both a guest and venerable performer. "The process of loving wherever I am, being present and focusing on a clear channel of communication for mind and emotion, rooted so deeply in respect for the space, those within it, and myself, ended up being profoundly healing," she says. "My vision and hope is that this album can be released as a gift back to anyone who either was or wasn't there. A cloud time of life passing by."

Emily A. Sprague's Cloud Time traces an audio-spiritual journey through time and place, recorded across a long-awaited debut tour of Japan in the fall of 2024. Compiled from environmental improvisations captured in and for the moment, material at once welcoming, responsive, and inimitable, the album distills a voyage guided by psychic wayfaring, unbound presence, and activating performance for a reciprocal exchange with space, listener, and each fully engaged instant. The Japanese tour documented on Cloud Time held an almost mythic significance for Sprague, taking on properties of her own sonic white whale. After many near-departures and dropped plans to play in the country, "the empty spaces of cancelled trips and forgotten music turned into strange little misty spirits that I felt followed by," she says. "When I began preparing for the tour, I couldn't shake a sense that the invitation to Japan was more about opening myself up to this new place instead of bringing something into it tightly under my control. Improvisation has always been such a pillar in my music practice, and I really wanted to meet the country, spaces and people through that process." To amplify these intuitive whispers on-stage, Sprague reimagined her time-tested live rig, designed to be as free from error as possible, as a looser, more flexible set up that would allow her to interface with what was essentially a blank sonic canvas every night. Each performance became a collaboration between environment and instinct, Sprague processing the events, energies, and emotions informing the evening through her new sound ecosystem, and projecting an entirely present and unique version of herself to each open-eared and hearted crowd. "It was very much more than just an act of playing for me, but a total experience of time and place," she says. The seven long-form pieces that plot the course of Cloud Time, excerpted from over eight hours of recordings archived on the artist's on-stage recorder and generously shared on the album with no additional mixing and only minimal editing, invite listeners to become still in these deep-rooted moments of presence as the album moves from city to city, venue to venue. Cloud Time chronicles material recorded at each tour stop, Sprague selecting and sequencing the album around mood-based storytelling more so than linear chronology. "I tried to make the whole album flow in the way that any one of the complete live performances did," she explains, "while also keeping the spirit of the whole thing as a journey." The result is equal parts travelog, love letter, and impressionistic collage channeled from the potent ferment of a now encased in the glowing amber of memory. Intrinsically inspired by kankyo ongaku, an environmental music philosophy, known both in and widely outside of Japan that tunes into the similarly expansive ethos as Pauline Oliveros' deep listening practice and posits the listener as composer, Cloud Time is ambient music that seems to be listening right back, grounded in heartfelt synthesized frequencies that abundantly hold and heal. Pieces like "Nagoya," "Tokyo 1," and the ten minute "Matsumoto" in particular hum with the atomic resonance of gently tended landscapes, offering space for tuning way in and dropping far out from perspectives that stifle and bind. Cloud Time is an invitation to embrace each moment as both fleeting and eternal, floating by with nothing to grasp onto and absolutely everything to gain. The exercise in acceptance and letting go that Sprague practiced throughout the tour deeply impacted her understanding of self as both a guest and venerable performer. "The process of loving wherever I am, being present and focusing on a clear channel of communication for mind and emotion, rooted so deeply in respect for the space, those within it, and myself, ended up being profoundly healing," she says. "My vision and hope is that this album can be released as a gift back to anyone who either was or wasn't there. A cloud time of life passing by." Emily A. Sprague's Cloud Time will be released Friday, October 10th in vinyl, Japanese import CD (via Plancha), and digital editions.

“Oh damn I got fired suddenly, replaced by a hydraulic pump with life long guarantee”.

The undefinable Kaboom Karavan returns to the dusty Belgian roads with a total Fiasko! - or a full blown disaster if you will (seen from a minimalist perspective), although one that might be the antidote to the sterilised and scattered world that increasingly surrounds us. Fiasko! represents a musical chaos that feels both ecstatic, fun, as well as deeply melancholic. Like an overwhelming moment where the world seems to touch you on all senses. This is music for a new underground of black tie workers raising up to the dullness of societal norms by connecting to their inner child. It’s protest music towards the new normal, where the rules are thrown out of the window and unpredictable sense of joy prevails. Shortly said, Fiasko! Is contemporary exotica made by a madman with too much time on his hands.

As usual, Kaboom Karavan releases contains a conglomerate of strange, mostly home made instrumentation, which will be too long to list here. To shorten it down… Bram Bosteels himself, the captain of the ship, plays all kinds of acoustic instruments, guitars, electronics and uses his voice. Additionally we have Bart Maris on trumpet, tuba and trombone. Stefaan Smagghe plays violin and sarangi. Lastly we have Raphael de Cock on such typical instruments as igir, jadagan and uillean pipes. All that remains to be said is: Bring your neighbour, let yourself loose and have some fun. Listen to Fiasko!

Following a wildly successful first release, Risk/Reward returns with an outstanding EP from Bizarre Trax bossman and Felon5 member Jhobei, featuring a remix from UK electro royalty Carl Finlow no less!

Digitaria combines a groovy organ bass with psychedelic synths and progressive elements, to create a dancefloor-focused, trance-inducing bomb, guaranteed to get crowds of all sizes moving. Trippy, hypnotic but always playful, the perfect track to bring the energy up in the room.

A monster bassline, punchy drums and dreamy pads make Thinking Nodes a versatile tool, equally at home early in the night or deep into the after hours. Classic UKG swing meets deep house, plus a sprinkling of rave elements go into the recipe, making a tasty treat for DJs and collectors alike.

Beatagroove Funk see's Jhobei channel his inner Random Factor, to create an Electro House ripper, with quirky vocals, glitchy synths, a bassline straight out of a 80s new wave banger and enough drive in the drums to make this a peak time weapon.

Carl Finlow delivers an epic masterpiece on the remix of Beatagroove Funk, creating a work of sheer beauty that sounds like a blissful sunset cruise on a hover bike through a futuristic metropolis. Unexplainably detailed and emotional, this is the work of a true master of his craft and will surely go on to be recognized as some of his very best work - simply unmissable!

With heavy support from Tini, Harry McCanna, Anna Wall, Rich NxT, Voigtmann and more, Jhobei's star seems destined to keep rising, as Risk/Reward continues to establish itself as a must buy label.

2025 Repress

FINALLY! The very first commercial release of two legendary remixes of Arthur Russell's "In The Light Of The Miracle". Both are widely regarded as transcendent masterpieces and very much befitting of the title “holy grails”.

These long-beloved mixes are the types you'd wish would last for eternity. With almost 30 minutes of music here, we very nearly get our desires granted. At last, these jaw-dropping mixes are widely available to every Arthur fan in the world. This is musical perfection.

The deep Loft classic "In The Light Of The Miracle" remained unreleased during Arthur's lifetime, finally discovered when Phillip Glass included the original version on Another Thought on Point Music in 1993. As Steve Knutson told us, when Another Thought was being put together, the plan was to release a companion album of remixes that was overseen by Steve D'Aquisto but the project only got as far as these two remixes of "In The Light Of The Miracle".

Some dodgy scans of some centre label designs suggest that Point Music might’ve been planning to release these on a 12" but it didn’t happen. The story goes that Gilles Peterson heard the remixes on a visit to the Point Music offices and wanted to release them on Talkin’ Loud. We’re not sure how many white label copies made it out into the wild, but again, these remixes didn’t make it to a proper release.

These remixes both extend and undeniably enhance the original, elevating it to new heights. The 13 minute remix on the A-side is by Danny Krivit & Tony Smith with editing duties performed by Tony Morgan. As ever with Arthur, the music is almost impossible to describe: is it Disco? Garage House? Avant Garde? None of these tags do full justice to its sheer majesty. You best just listen. Stretching out the original with some unbelievably great percussive elements, until we're in a deeply spiritual, otherworldly realm, it's just too beautiful for words. As many have claimed, it's the prototype for EVERYTHING.

The "Ponytail Club Mix (Part 1 & 2)", produced by Tony Morgan in the mid-90s, is in a more up-tempo style, with vocals higher in the mix, the BPM upped to 120 and the addition of a housey 4/4 kick drum. A 14 minute epic, you could say this is a more straight ahead "club-friendly" mix (but can things ever be that straightforward with Arthur?!) It also has some really interesting vocal parts not used in the other versions, including some vocals from guest poet Allen Ginsberg.

These remixes are part of the same original project that also produced the Another Thought album so it seems only right that they have a sleeve that matches. Thanks again to Janette Beckman for letting us use another of her photos of Arthur and the rest of the design follows what Margery Greenspan, Tina Lauffer and Michael Klotz did for Another Thought back in 1994.

Simon Francis remastered the original audio for both tracks and Cicely Balston's precise cut for Alchemy at AIR Studios ensures this 12" well and truly slaps. The immaculate Record Industry pressing will ensure this incredibly sought-after treasure finds a home in many more collections, this and every year.

Fresh off producing a seminal documentary about the origin story of Portuguese rave culture, Shcuro returns to his mother tongue, music, to give us four slices of fresh yet classic Lisbon underground flavour right as the summer sets in. 'Echo Chamber' EP, Para?so's 17th outing, comes with two equally excellent remixes separated by the atlantic: Brooklyn's MoMA Ready and Berlin's Mareena. Side A starts with two tracks first blueprinted this past year as Shcuro prepared a new live set. 'No Expectations' opens the record with a high-paced sweat-breaker that elegantly evokes early rave culture as stabs, funk and feelings abound. A2 'Persistence' follows suit with the work that exudes proficiency: sound design, dub techno learnings and masterful layering all conspire to create a moment of pure techno draw. Closing side A, 'Deviation' pulls some of the previous track's energy even though it's a rework from the artist's earlier unreleased catalogue: another sign that we're talking realness here. Clever percussion and refreshing washes drive us well into dubby territories. 'Suspension' opens the B side, picking up where it left off with the last original: a beautifully produced piece with fleeting mutating stabs that seem to swim alongside us in an imaginary oceanic dancefloor. Liquid, refreshing sensorial motifs seem to underpin this record and that spirit spills into the remix pack, starting off with MoMA Ready's take on 'Persistence', bringing out the rawness in the original while adding a special sauce with Robert Hood-like funky yet minimalistic bleep work. Tresor's Mareena steps in for a centered, dancefloor-geared - but still mysterious - twist on 'Deviation', perfectly rounding up the record with the expertise of a club resident.

“Tunggak Semi” is the third album from Indonesian musician and producer Bambang Pranoto. Originally released in 2000, it’s an exemplary slice of what has become his signature style, a dream-like meditation on aspects of nature, combining elements of accordion, acoustic guitar, flute and percussion. The compositions cross eastern and western notation to inhabit a world of their own, a world between worlds, where harmonies reflect the beauty and joy of nature.

Bambang had a rather atypical entry into music, and studied electronics and telecommunications, before he took advantage of the wave of computer software like Cubase and Protools in the 1990s that enabled him to set about recording his own compositions and soundscapes. After playing in groups, he developed his own approach to constructing his productions. He invites musicians to record interpretations of his themes, which he then pieces together in Protools like a jigsaw puzzle. “The musicians have never even met!” he chuckled on a Skype call.

“Tunggak Semi” refers to the giant trees that appear all over Bali, and their process of renewal and regeneration. “If you cut the tree, and leave the roots, they will grow again. Everytime we cut, they grow again. It’s limitless. This philosophy means there’s always something new coming, whether an idea or music, anything.” This approach has grown out of Bambang’s studies into meditation, including Indian and Chinese scriptures, also Balinese and Indonesian religions. Music, like meditation, is a daily practice, and acceptance of the music and its ‘unfinishedness’, forms a central part of the process.

“We must not just think, but we must also feel, and we must accept that feeling,” explains Bambang, and that’s a step of opening one’s mind to possibility. It seems in keeping with two of Bambang’s musical inspirations, namely Ryuichi Sakamoto and Peter Gabriel, both known for their love of world folk music, and fusion of musical traditions. That’s mirrored in Bambang’s own collage-like approach, recording elements and piecing them together to make something unimagined. While the acoustic sound palette for “Tunggak Semi” is rooted in live recordings, Bambang is not afraid to put the digital technology to good use.

“We have to use the computer as a tool in the best way we can,” Bambang says. “Sometimes people say music is made by people, not by the computer, but it’s just another piece of equipment. What can we compose from this equipment? It’s technology music!”

Written and produced by Bambang Pranoto at interactive garden studio, Depok, Bogor between September and December 2001. 2025 version remastered by Wouter Brandenburg at Brandenburg Mastering.

The Rachel's band began when Jason Noble joined forces with Christian Frederickson. Within months of their meeting on a crowded trolley, they had formed a small ensemble to perform original compositions. In the next three years, madness ensued. Christian finished his degree at the Peabody Conserva-tory of Music, traveled to Switzerland to study, returned home, then wound up in NYC to attend the Julliard School. Jason didn't finish his degree, moved back to Louisville, began employment as an artist by day, dishwasher by night, and be-gan working with friends in a band that would become Rodan. This insane, all over the world life-style, led to a barrage of telephone, demo tape, notepaper, sheet music & mail communication. This, combined with sporadic two-week or two-day person-to-person collaborations in whatever city was central enough, became the bizarre process of the music. During this long gestation, Rachel Grimes became involved, first assisting Jason in his brute comprehension of written music, then joining as a pianist & confidant. Soon she was fully entrenched, providing the strange coincidence of possessing the name "Rachel," and an incredible backbone to the project. Several recordings had been finished, some in the studio, hundreds of 8-track cassettes, a few jambox cuts, but the time for a concentrated attempt at an LP seemed far away. Finally, Rachel, Christian, & Jason began assembling musicians who they respected; John, Mark and Barry from the Chicago supergroup The Coctails, Kevin Coul-tas from Rodan, Bob Weston, and several other string players from various walks of life. The result was a group of semi-vagrants, some reading from sheet music, some rambunctious noisemakers, working from an equally improvisational and tight-assed way. The real character comes from the musicians involved, participating in what can only be called a "labor of love." Handwriting, the band's debut album, was originally released by Quarterstick Records in 1995. Jacket custom screen-printed by Jeff Mueller at Dexterity Press.