Cerca:all that we see or seem

A fully licensed, analogue reissue -- sure, on cassette and not on vinyl, that's a
long story -- of the first Index LP, originally released in 1967
The "Black Album" is one of the all-time holy grails of psychedelia, with originals going
for more than $4,000. It is an album "with a really druggie sound, full of feedback and
fuzzy guitars. The vocals, when present, are not easily heard. The cover of 'Eight Miles
High' is very good, probably one of the best cover versions I have ever heard. The
original songs all follow a similar pattern as the covers, with hazy guitar riffs and loud
rhythms. The last track is particularly noisy and unstructured. Hidden in amongst the
echoing canyons of sound there's some really snotty punk attitude wrapped up in
trippy velvet fuzz."
This record is magnificent-- bizarre, atmospheric, amateurish (in the best of all
possible ways). It has a wonderful bleak sound, both droning and murky... the atonal
sound of 1960's rock that would leave the most lasting impression on what would
become future punk, post-punk and indie rock artists.
"Much has been written about this incredible band. Much of it isn't true. Index was
formed in the early spring of 1967 in Grosse Pointe, Michigan. I was 18 years old
when I met a chain-smoking 16-year-old named Gary Francis. Our conversation soon
got around to rock and roll. He told me that he and his friend, John Ford, were forming
a band. I told him that I played drums and we arranged a jam session at John's home
on Lakeshore Drive. Our first meeting was incredible. Our sound was full and
powerful. John's lead guitar techniques were fresh and innovative. After our first
sessions we knew we had something special. Index was born. Soon we hit the local
'sock hop' circuit, playing at high schools and teen clubs in the area. We poured our
unique sound out at The Hideout, Undercroft and G.P. War Memorial every weekend.
One afternoon John pulled out a new album he had been listening to. It was a new
band with a mind-shattering sound called 'The Jimi Hendrix Experience.' John played
some songs he had written inspired by this 'psychedelic' sound. Over the next few
days, 'Fire Eyes,' 'Shock Wave' and 'Feedback' were written. This album was recorded
in December of 1967 at the Ford estate. It is recorded in mono with literally one
microphone and with all instruments and vocals recorded at the same time. The cover
photo is of founders of a singing group John joined at Yale. The stiff, board- like
figures seem to characterize the exact opposite of this musical collection. This
reissue is taken from the original recordings. Nothing has been added and all songs
are in their original length. Over the years various bootleg copies of this album have
surfaced but this is the original work." --Jim Valice

Teal’s debut LP, Original Watercolour, is an album that feels like a canvas come to life. A sonic blend of street-soul, digi-dub, and downtempo. Original Watercolour explores the complexities of love, oneness, and intuition — themes that resonate deeply within the context of the history women have shared with what was once known as the “ladies’ medium.”

The bi-coastal family trio—Ashleigh and Melissa Ball, better known as the Ball Sisters, alongside producer N1_SOUND—bring a fresh, genre-defying sound to the table with their latest 6-track album. Running just under 30 minutes, this immersive collection weaves together skipping beats, addictive bass lines, three-dimensional flute textures & emotional vocal melodies. This musical portrait is as ethereal as it is powerful, inviting the listener to get lost in its depths while celebrating the beauty of self-expression.

The opening track, “Original Watercolour,” takes you on a psychedelic trip-hop journey. From the first reverberous snare hit, you’re whisked away to a sonic wetland — lush and euphoric. The soft yet poignant soundscapes set the tone for the album, inviting us into a world where the boundaries between earth and music, reality and imagination, automatically seem to blur.

“Locked In 2 Love” offers a boogie-fueled bassline that pushes Teal into dance-floor territory with soaring flutes and rhythmic intricacies that make it impossible not to move — it’s a track that exemplifies the magic of Teal’s ability to craft both intimate and expansive musical landscapes. And then, there’s the hypnotic flow of “One In The Same,” where stacked vocal harmonies and mantra-esque lyrics transport you to a place that could easily be mistaken for a lost Soulquarians demo. It’s gentle yet unrelenting in its depth.

The second side of the album opens with “Sleep on It,” a track that immediately grabs attention with its dancehall-driven rhythm. Ashleigh Ball's vocals set the stage for a song that’s both introspective and emotionally charged, yet unmistakably rooted in groove. The phased-out bassline creates an almost hypnotic atmosphere. Pulling the listener into a mood of contemplation—matching the restless, sleepless night that Ball describes. As the song progresses, this groove builds in intensity, culminating in an explosive ending that mirrors the emotional release of a long-held frustration.

Original Watercolour is more than just an album — it’s a meditation on the interconnectedness of life and art. “Frog Kingdom,” the longest and only instrumental track creates a contemplative space that builds upon the themes introduced earlier. It feels like a sequel to their earlier work, Frog Legacy from their debut Bluish Green 2024 12”, expanding on the familiar sound with even more complex layers.

Yet the real emotional power of the record lies in its closing track, “Can’t Shake the Feeling.” Simple in structure but profound in impact, this song captures a deep yearning and understanding — that everything, from the ecosystems we inhabit to the relationships we nurture and the art we create, is fundamentally interconnected. As the track crescendos in a falsetto peak, it becomes clear that the album is a reflection of both the world around us and the personal journey each member of the band has embarked upon to get to this point.

Just as the medium of watercolor has been traditionally linked to women artists, Teal carries this legacy into the modern musical landscape, blending the richness of history with a unique forward-thinking perspective. The album feels like both a celebration of the past and a bold declaration of a path forward — one that welcomes anyone ready to join in and shape the future of the art form.

The beauty of Teal’s work is that it feels familiar, while simultaneously offering something new and refreshing. Original Watercolour doesn’t just push musical boundaries; it redefines them, offering a lush and textured soundtrack for those willing to listen closely.

In a world that often feels over-saturated, Original Watercolour stands as a reminder of the power of simplicity, intuition, and connection. Teal’s debut album invites you to experience something both deeply personal and universally understood. The landscapes they create are vivid, yet soft, grounding yet expansive. With each track, Teal’s music reflects the interconnectedness of all things — a truly unique piece of work in the world of experimental soul and dub adjacent electronic music.

Rising and falling. We all live in the same pond. Peace to all.

Previously unreleased; four track 12" with two different vocal takes, each w/ dub. Comes in Bond Export company sleeve.

Another cold case solved! One of DKR's early victories was finding a tape of the drum & bass cut of the legendary dubplate 'Rocks & Mountains.' Rumor had said the artist was the Mighty Travellers, but this didn't really add up chronologically or audibly. More astute listeners mostly agreed the artist was likely the Majesterians, a little recorded group who had made a couple other records for Taxi circa 1980. When we first issued the song on a 10" back in 2011, even Sly himself couldn't recall for sure who sang the tune. Like with other 'mystery' projects which we eventually came to realize, we never gave up digging on this one. There were two mysteries at work here - one, confirming the identity of the group, and two - finding the other cut of the tune, which features fuller instrumentation and a different vocal take. Both cuts were around on dubplate circa '80/'81, and the latter cut can be heard ever so briefly in the infamous UK "Sound Business" documentary film from '81. In the course of a mere 13 years, both questions came to be solved - we obtained a pretty clean plate cut of the fuller mix, and we confirmed the identity of the group. The Majesterians were a vocal trio consisting of Everton Dacres, Roderick Perkins and Paul Mitchell. While the latter two gentlemen don't seem to have done much otherwise, we are sure the roots heads and hopefully all DKR followers know Everton Dacres, who made some fine roots music in the 1970s prior to fronting the Majesterians. We spoke to Everton and he confirmed 'Rocks & Mountains' was their tune, cut in Channel 1 at a Taxi session featuring a host of other artists. Indeed, these were the heady days of 1980 with Channel 1 booked round the clock for locked-in sessions, with the Taxi Gang and the Roots Radics laying down future classic after future classic. All that said, we're happy to re-present this tune now with not only proper accreditation, but also both known mixes and the drum & bass mix in improved fidelity over its previous issue.

Berlin-based French-Irish multimedia artist Zoe Mc Pherson levels up on their third full-length "Pitch Blender", mangling years of experience DJing and performing live into a tight set of cybernetic soundsystem experiments that flicker between the rave and the art space.

Cast your mind back to February 2020 for a moment, when Mc Pherson released their last album "States of Fugue". The world seemed less tangled somehow, and yet Mc Pherson's precision-engineered fusion of exploratory sound design and visceral club pressure seemed to hint at a cataclysmic event none of us were really expecting. Only a few weeks after its release the world changed forever, and the majority of us were grounded - forced to consider our lives and the movement (or lack thereof) surrounding us. The philosophy of this extended time period is welded into the bones of "Pitch Blender", Mc Pherson's supple third album. They have learned plenty in the last two years, and infuse all of that anxiety and spiky emotionality into a spread of tracks that sound as powerful in headphones as they do over a well-tweaked soundsystem, soldering vocals, environmental recordings and instrumental flourishes to unpredictably pneumatic, cybernetic beats.

Anyone that's caught one of Mc Pherson's energetic live performances over the last few months will have an idea of what "Pitch Blender" is made of. They're an artist who's somehow able to match the raw energy of post-punk and no-wave music with the brain-altering potential of the best experimental club tracks, vocalizing an incongruous post-lockdown reality over beats that sound as if they're in a permanent state of flux. 'On Fire' splutters to life in a frenetic patter of drums that blur into oddly soothing hoover sounds, snaking lysergically towards a drop that's teased constantly, and never comes. We're forced to wait until 'The Spark' for that, fighting through choppy, pitch-mangled guitar and rolling beats until a gruesome kick drum forces its way through the psilocybin mists and heaving Bristol-inspired bass clonks. Backed up with just the inverted traces of recognizable breaks, this vigorous pulse lies at the heart of "Pitch Blender", the driving force that powers Mc Pherson's sound even when it's only hinted at.

'Blender' is the moment where Mc Pherson show their full hand, using crackling sound effects, ghost vocals and uneven rhythms to build a textural landscape that's so evocative you can almost taste it. Squealing modular synth effects sound like gameshow buzzers being triggered in another dimension and propel the track forward - it's club music, just about, but Mc Pherson's motivation is world-building, and their world is colorful, abstract, and dizzyingly surreal. "Obsolete user," their voice echoes over driving airlock kicks. But they take a swift left turn with 'Lamella', reducing the kinetic club rhythms to a longing simmer and letting loose with powerful vocals, intoning with robotic, gender-fluxed intensity. On 'Wait', New York City's clacking crosswalk signal - already an effective club track on its own - is transformed into a reminder to slow down, juxtaposed with booming sub-heavy kicks, acidic synths and effervescent percussion that rattles in time with the vibrations. It's foley rave, built for pure psychedelic intensity to blur the line between real life and sonic fiction.

One of the album's most galvanic tracks, 'Power Dynamics' curves a double-time rhythm around breathless HQ sound design squiggles until it hits a polyrhythmic crescendo, striking a queasy balance between rave hedonism and ritualistic hand drum energy. It all builds towards eerie closing track 'Outside' that acts as an important wind down, spotlighting Mc Pherson's ability to operate outside of the rhythmic spectrum, using cinematic scrapes and flickering neon synths to create music that's tense but never terrifying. The track feels like the end credits of a particularly bewildering movie - something between the cyberpunk dystopia of "Ghost in the Shell" and the vivid, sky-scraping beauty of "Koyaanisqatsi". Mc Pherson has managed something special with "Pitch Blender": mashing together genres with rare focus, and sharpening their engineering skills to a fine point, they've concocted an antidote to contemporary malaise - a wakeup call that's begging us to loosen our limbs and move.

A Chaos Of Flowers is an album that builds on their ferocious 2023 album nature morte. BIG|BRAVE"s music has been described as massive minimalism. Their fusillades of textural distortion and feedback emphasize their music"s frayed edges as much as its all-encompassing weight. The potency of the trio"s work is their singular artistry combining elements of traditional folk techniques and a modern deconstruction of guitar music. Gain, feedback, and amplitude are essential. For A Chaos Of Flowers guitarist/vocalist Robin Wattie drew heavily on the poems of artists whom Wattie found kinship in, their words resonant with experiences of those often sidelined by cultural norms. "I discovered that most poems from folk traditions or in the public domain seem to be by men - to which I could not quite relate. In my search, I rediscovered some of my favorite works and poets," says Wattie. Guitarist Mathieu Ball and drummer Tasy Hudson help Wattie shape poetry into pieces as dense and impenetrable as they are vulnerable. BIG|BRAVE achieve their colossal sound through minimalist approaches, a deft understanding of dynamics and an inventive employment of percussion and distortion. The trio reconceptualize what it is to be heavy or minimal, challenging perceptions with their illumination of painfully overlooked perspectives. Guest guitarist Marisa Anderson lends earthen, blues-inflected atmospheres to the album, where guitarist Tashi Dorji and saxophonist Patrick Shiroishi amplify the squall. Working closely with frequent collaborator and producer/engineer Seth Manchester, the internal tumult of Wattie"s voice rings out in warbles, haunting echoes, and unearthly harmonies across bold immense walls of distortion. BIG|BRAVE have collaborated with metal monsters The Body on a previous Thrill Jockey release, Leaving None But Small Birds, and have toured internationally with bands like SUMAC, Godspeed You! Black Emperor, SUNN O))), and Lingua Ignota. As they continue to ascend in their journey as pioneers in the contemporary metal scene, it"s safe to say that BIG|BRAVE are here to stay.

The Crippled Flower was a post-punk band from Düsseldorf - and they arrived late. However, unlike many young, unsuspecting, hairsprayed hopefuls from that time, in 1985 they could sense that the end of their era was approaching. They knew too much to want to take the world by storm. They were four individualists searching their own way. Each of the band members only found their calling after the time that they had spent together – but that's exactly what makes The Crippled Flower still seem really interesting today, this static energy that does not discharge, but is simply there.

Searching dreamers should sound like that and that's what they were. Singer Phil Elston, for example, had brought his love of Kraftwerk from England to Düsseldorf. Even his bandmates found this strange, but they were also entangled in their own longings. This is because the times were still so crazy and these searchers were "on fire". A fire that glows in the band's recordings.

Listening to the songs today, The Crippled Flower sound like they are hugely at the height of their game; think of Wire, Felt, Scritti Politti or Minimal Compact. The variety of musical themes, as well as different soundscapes, which the band created can only be listened to in amazement. Often, it is only Phil Elston's Sprechgesang that confirms that this is really the same band. However, it was back in 1985 when, importantly, the catalyst that brought the musicians together - the short lived eclectic record store "Heartbeat" in Düsseldorf Bilk - occured. It was there where post-industrial and pop, melodic minimal music and sound attacks awaited those who wanted to discover music by artists and bands they did not yet know.

Cassette releases. All recorded on 4-Track. The Crippled Flower succeeded in this medium. Firstly, with a cassette just entited The Crippled Flower, working from project-like studio recorded sketches. Four more tracks from the short-lived band appeared in 1986 on "A Heartbeat Rendezvous“. A demo tape submitted to Les Disques du Crépuscule, however, did not lead to a worldwide career and so, unfortunately, it was soon over.

Stefan Krausen moved on to the follow-up project Deux Baleines Blanches with Stefan Schneider, which, in 1994, gave rise to the band Kreidler. Krausen was already drumming with the I-Burnettes on AtaTak and much later he studied painting in Munich. Nina Ahlers moved from Düsseldorf to Paris to study art, because in the 80s it was still the case that Paris was the destination of choice for those really wanting to become an artist – and that's what she did. Her work is characterized by a non-academic minimalism focusing on everyday objects. Stefan Schneider remained connected to music. Only Phil Elston, who helped sabotage fox hunts in England and wrote these observant lyrics about environmental destruction and time travel, seems to have escaped the social-media world. Whether he found Kraftwerk-fulfilment in Düsseldorf or moved on disillusioned remains a mystery to us. And somehow this also fits in with that peculiar, special band. - Oliver Tepel, Köln 2025 (Translation by Philipp Elston)

“Music is the weed that keeps popping out of the concrete in my life. It just seems to want to come out.” –Jeff Bridges

Extensive booklet including liner notes by Sam Sweet, new interviews with Jeff Bridges, and never-before-seen archival photos.

Featuring Burgess Meredith (Rocky, Batman), members of Oingo Boingo, and assorted characters from the West Los Angeles art and music underground
Culled from a single decaying cassette tape labeled “July 1978,” these recordings are a window into the secret musical life of the Dude. Even after becoming one of Hollywood’s biggest stars, Bridges spent all his free time jamming and recording with a trusted circle of musicians composed of childhood friends, artists, and assorted L.A. oddballs.

Imagine The Band playing at CBGB with The Exploding Plastic Inevitable. Or Arthur Russell and the Talking Heads collaborating on a suite of mutant disco. Though Bridges and his friends were brought up around the movie industry, they decided to create their own private musical universe, where they could be as weird as they wanted.

Their music opens a portal to a hidden world of outlandish creativity and camaraderie in 1970s Los Angeles. It’s the missing piece of his musical evolution, revealed here for the first time in all its joyful abandon.

Dateline: April 10, 1970. Setting: The storied Fillmore West in San Francisco, CA. Context: Miles Davis, three days removed from his first session for Jack Johnson and, with newly recruited soprano saxophonist Steve Grossman in tow, opening shows for countercultural heroes the Grateful Dead on the latter’s home turf. Result: The initial rumblings of a thrilling era in which Davis and his cohorts would again upend jazz and popular conceptions of the genre with music steeped in groove, improvisation, and hang-on-for-your-life adventurousness. All captured on Black Beauty: Miles Davis at Fillmore West.

Mastered at MoFi’s California studio, pressed at Fidelity Record Pressing in California, and housed in a Stoughton gatefold jacket, Mobile Fidelity's numbered-edition 180g 33RPM 2LP set helps bring what went down that spring evening in Bill Graham’s venue to your listening room with exceptional clarity, balance, and presence. Originally only released in Japan in 1973 and unavailable in the United States until the late ‘90s on compact disc, this marks the first time Black Beauty has been issued on domestic vinyl. The wait is worth it.

Benefitting from quiet surfaces and excellent definition, these LPs present the band’s livewire energy and torrential storm of notes with captivating dynamics, pacing, and fullness. At its core, this audiophile reissue takes you into the walls of sound erected by a band learning on-the-fly the sheer power, will, and breadth of the electric jazz Davis was orchestrating and realizing, on the spot, would reach rock audiences that until that point had only a faint awareness of his mad-scientist experimentation. The sense of release and reach conveyed by these carefully restored records make it clear the veteran bandleader was in the process of a permanent shift that he’d chase for the next five years.

Given Davis was only a few months away from releasing the pioneering double album Bitches Brew, it shouldn’t come as a surprise that much of the fare here adheres to similar explorative approaches. Turbulent rhythms, provocative trumpet passages, and rich, saturated tonal colors that seemingly splash against a blank canvas take precedence over any traditional attempts at organization and melody. Davis and Co. intentionally play everything on a line with the bandleader signaling changes with his horn via coded phrases. The group speaks a common language — with each member having gone to achieve iconic status for their career contributions and technical prowess.

In the company of Grossman, Chick Corea (piano), Dave Holland (bass), Jack DeJohnette (drums), and Airto Moreira (percussion), Davis constructs themes around “Directions,” “Miles Runs the Voodoo Down,” “It’s About That Time,” the title track to Bitches Brew, and more from his then most-recent studio works and the in-progress Jack Johnson. His farewell to the popular standards that for nearly two decades remained a part of his repertoire arrive via a brief dalliance with “I Fall in Love Too Easily,” a shortened albeit aggressive “Masqualero,” and the “Theme” finale of “Spanish Key.” Initially, Black Beauty lacked specific track listings due to Davis’ increasing frustration with listeners over-analyzing his music.

In retrospect, it’s difficult to blame anyone for wanting to view what’s on display here with the aural equivalent of a magnifying glass. Leaning in rock directions, yet maintaining an ear for spaciousness and solos, Black Beauty survives as a snapshot of a thrilling moment amid a transitory period in which evolution came fast and furious. Just two months later, Davis would add another instrumentalist to the lineup in the form of organist Keith Jarrett, and the perpetually restless visionary would blast off to a more atmospheric and arguably more chaotic universe.

Consider, then, this live document a bridge to that galaxy and a breathtaking example of the possibilities of jazz itself.

"The album was created in this back and forth of snapshots - we made most of the decisions impulsively without much questioning. That takes a lot of trust." — Violeta García & Hora Lunga

"I'll Wait For You In The Car Park", the first full length collaboration between Argentinian cellist, improviser and composer Violeta García and Swiss musician and composer Hora Lunga, is a work of extremes. Drawing from the realities of life on two continents, and embodying moods ranging from stoic desire to violent bursts, the album enciphers so-called ordinary moments from everyday life into an alluring collection of musical scenes. Seemingly inconspicuous moments are condensed into a tale of synchronicity: colliding time zones and seasons, metropolitan rhythms raining down onto a glacier's ice field, exploring places through street view, the serendipity of loitering at a kiosk. As such, "I'll Wait For You In The Car Park" brings documentary film essays to mind that carefully observe the private and everyday occurrences.
Violeta García and Hora Lunga crossed paths by chance in 2023 and began discussing and sharing music shortly afterwards. What started as a loose exchange of ideas, sending back and forth sketches and demos between South America and Europe, grew into several studio sessions in 2024. Being sucked into a "quite extraordinary flow", the two musicians recorded, arranged and intervened on a level playing field, using the studio as a playground to record musical layers and interweave them with field recordings and audio notes gathered over the course of a year. Speaking a kindred musical language, they quickly realized how their ideas clung to each other like two familiar souls, complementing, intertwining and merging. From gauzy and eerie textures, musical miniatures floating through time, howling and screaming strings, to tumbling and thundering basses – the sound of the ordinary shapes a body that vibrates, writhes and breathes.

Violeta García is a cellist, improviser and composer from Buenos Aires, Argentina. Based in Spain, she tours a lot with her band Blanco Teta. She is a performer in many art forms, including free improvisation, contemporary and trans-media experimental repertoire in violoncello and electronics and collaborations with dancers, film makers and visual artists. After years of studying classical and popular music on violoncello and, later, contemporary composition and improvisation, Violeta has developed her own musical voice needed to emerge beyond outside specific genres.

Throughout Swiss composer and musician Hora Lunga's work, the focus lies is on exploring boundaries, both musically and in terms of performance and content. Above all, genre designations lose all meaning, as the music always takes place within a dramaturgically conceived overall framework. In recent years, his projects have ranged from pop music productions to experimental works and sound performances, as well astheatre and film productions. His ensemble WIRREN consists of up to fifteen performers.

Legendary New Zealand-born experimental composer and sound art pioneer Annea Lockwood returns to Black Truffle with On Fractured Ground / Skin Resonance, her third release for the label. Having recently celebrated her 85th birthday, Lockwood shows no sign of slowing down in her exploration of new sound sources and collaborations with an ever-growing intergenerational pool of performers – here with Vanessa Tomlinson. Her creative vibrancy is alive as ever on the two recent works presented here, which demonstrate both her engagement with the social dimensions of sound and the deeply reflective, meditative aspect of her art.

On Fractured Ground derives from material recorded with Pedro Rebelo and Georgios Varoutsos for the soundtrack of Maria Fusco and Margaret Salmon’s opera-film, History of the Present (2023). Working together in Belfast, Lockwood, Rebelo and Varoutsos made extensive recordings of the city’s ‘peace lines’, the dozens of walls erected since the beginning of the Troubles in the late 1960s to separate Catholic and Protestant areas of the city. Struck by the immensity of these barriers, ‘the brutal way they sever neighbourhoods’, Lockwood and her collaborators focused not on the sound environment of the city, but on the walls themselves, playing them as gigantic resonant instruments, using their hands and objects such as stones and leaves. Continuing to work in her studio with the material collected for the soundtrack after its completion, Lockwood composed the work presented here, occupying a space somewhere between her own extended-technique percussion music and the Cagean tradition of hyper-amplified small sounds. From deep, gong-like metallic tolling to dry scrapes and uneasy groans, the piece’s sustained attention to single sounds derived from unorthodox sources draws a line all the way back to Lockwood’s classic Glass World (1967-1970). Its spaciousness and delicacy are at odds with the dark historical background of the Troubles, creating a moving listening experience somehow haunted by the shadow of violence and conflict.

Skin Resonance is a collaboration with Australian composer and percussionist Vanessa Tomlinson. Developed through conversations in which the two discussed the idea of ‘sonic attraction’, the piece focuses on Tomlinson’s relationship to the bass drum, reflecting on the complex web of connections embodied in this seemingly simply instrument, which is at once ‘animal, wood, and metal’. Approaching the instrument in a suitably elemental fashion, Tomlinson’s performance strips away conventional technique to explore the resonance and timbral properties of skin, drum, and metal hardware, producing overlapping waves of texture that at times seem closer to wind swishing through leaves or the ocean than anything usually associated with a drum. Emphasising the symbiotic relationship between performer and instrument, Tomlinson’s voice is heard at times, exploring the field of associations and connections the bass drum suggests to her: ‘Maybe the bass drum skin is an ear as well?’

Accompanied by insightful liner notes on both pieces and photographs documenting the recording of On Fractured Ground and a performance of Skin Resonance, this LP is a moving testament to the engagement, generosity, and openness that sustain Annea Lockwood’s work, still finding new directions after more than fifty years of activity.

Looking behind the obvious, forming an orchestra out of everyday surroundings.

Finding the essence in the trivial, clarity in the complex, poetry in simplicity. All of this is part of the goal, meaning and character of Oh No Noh, the project of Leipzig-based guitarist, robot programmer, magnetic tape crumpler and composer Markus Rom. All of this floats and shines through "As Late As Possible", the third Oh No Noh album, which will be released on April 4th, 2025.

The focus of this album, as the title "As Late As Possible" suggests, was patience. A creative lingering, the selfimposed principle of letting ideas mature, consciously leaving them lying and looking at them again in order to discover and refine new things. Always looking for new ways of producing musical sounds, Markus Rom has been blurring the boundaries between LoFi, Indietronica, Postrock, Kraut and Pop with his solo project for several years. His main instruments for this are electric guitar, MIDI robots, tapes and samples. For “As Late As Possible”, Rom expands his setup with a new sound sources (acoustic guitar, banjo, organ) and musical guests: Damian Dalla Torre (Squama) on bass clarinet and Andi Haberl (the Notwist, Sun) on drums.

“As Late As Possible” continues the signature of past releases and adds new facets. Rom's distinctive looping in and over each other is particularly evident in the tracks “Missing the Point”, “Orb” and “Almost Everywhere”. With "Loot", a straightforward and folk-pop piece finds its way onto the album and coexists with math-trained tracks like "Dog Years" or "Dot", which conjure up associations with Weilheim bands like COUCH. The tracks "Bliss of Disconnect" and "Fawn" were created in collaboration with the featured guests Liz Kosack and KMRU. The confidently unplanned is one of the principles around which Oh No Noh itself is also continuously evolving. Part of this development: the radio series "Oh No Noh Radioh", which has so far consisted of over 40 parts, for which Rom invites a guest in each episode to research music together along roughly defined concepts, ideas and inspirations. Together with technology composer Hainbach, free jazz artist Limpe Fuchs and sound artist Elsa M’Bala, for example, encounters were created whose patient search and find and whose controlled coincidences also characterize “As Late As Possible” – but here concentrated, concise, and with all the love of sound and experimentation always committed to the song. With this will to create a song-like narrative, to move, to develop, “As Late As Possible” remains suspended and searching. Its concentration seems light-footed, its happy accidents well-placed, the melancholic beauty of outdated technologies, forgotten musical toys and broken noise sources always forward-looking. Music like the one that comes about when someone programs an entire robot band, which then becomes just a friendly part of the whole.

The artwork for “As Late As Possible” was created by Leipzig comic artist Anna Haifisch. The album was mixed by Adam Lenox and mastered by Frida Claeson Johannsson.

LP 1 is Original Reissue, LP 2 is the Instrumentals. This album, originally released in 2019, was highly lauded with esteemed praise, topping many Album Of The Year lists inlcuding NPR, Pitchfork, Rolling Stone, Time Magazine. This vinyl has been out of print and in high demand, repress is restricted to limited quantities and will be out of print again in under a year. Now includes a 2nd LP featuring the never before available Hiding Places instrumentals from Kenny Segal. Fully produced by Kenny Segal, (Project Blowed, Kenstrumentals beat tape Series, Happy Little Trees). LP has unique gatefold artwork by Myra Musgrove and features custom “oakwood” coloured vinyls. Hiding Places is a collaborative album from Brooklyn-based rapper billy woods and Los Angeles beat scene veteran Kenny Segal. As a label, we at Backwoodz take a lot of pride in our physical products; in creating original artwork that will stand the test of time, and in issuing limited-pressings that stay limited. We had always resisted repressing a piece of vinyl and even when the demand for Hiding Places built to a fever pitch during 2019, we stuck to our guns. Still, by the end of the year, as the AOTY nominations kept rolling in, we knew that we needed to do something. But we also were determined not to sacrifice the uniqueness of that first pressing. So we decided to commission all-new artwork, and press up the instrumentals as well and put it all together as a GATEFOLD 2XLP. So, on top of the best album of 2019, you get Kenny’s incredible instrumentals, available on wax for the first time! On its face, it seemed an unlikely pairing; woods who moonlights as ½ of dissonant rap duo Armand Hammer is a chaotic force, the warped relic of an NY indie-rap wave that never happened. Meanwhile, Segal has been in L.A. for twenty years; from paying dues with Project Blowed to pushing the culture forward with Busdriver and Milo. All the while, his soulful, dreamlike production precariously tethered to earth by the right drums or rumbling bass. But look closer and it makes more sense. After all, Segal lent his production to a couple of songs on Paraffin, Armand Hammer’s critically-acclaimed opus, and the two artists have more than a few shared collaborators: Open Mike Eagle, ELUCID, and Hemlock Ernst amongst them. Hiding Places finds both artists deep in the labyrinth. Segal’s lush soundscapes have a new edge, woods’ writing is, paradoxically, at its most direct. Hiding Places is a child’s game: funny and cruel, as brutal as a fairy tale. The album features familiar names from both artists’ well of collaborators with ELUCID, Self-Jupiter, Blockhead and MOTHERMARY making contributions.

Repress!

Echospace Detroit is the label launched by Rod Modell (Deepchord) and Soultek's Steven Hitchell, two leading lights of the minimal dub techno scene. And as with anything Deepchord, the entire release has an air of mystery to it. Previously, as a near-mythical vinyl pressing with minimal packaging and restricted pressings, everything about Vantage Isle was geared toward the underground, or 'those who know.' However, there's nothing but love of craft driving these grooves, and now a lot more people will finally be able to hear this absolutely brilliant collection of spacial dub wonder on CD. Vantage Isle Sessions consists of a whopping 13 takes of the title track, reworked by Modell and Hitchell in various guises (cv313, Deepchord, Echospace, Spacecho), as well as a guest spot (and first ever remix) from Gerard Hanson (Convextion). Across their 13 versions, Modell and Hitchell manage to take the Deepchord template (analog synths, deep bass, gently throbbing beats, bursts of static and noise, and deep, deep chords) into a surprising variety of directions, akin to looking at the same giant glacier from a helicopter from every angle possible: some are beatless and undulating, some are pulsing and dynamic, some are looking up from under the ice and some are towering overhead. The aforementioned Convextion version is revelatory. It's built on cascading and echoing pieces of the original that are layered like shifting sands, for a distinctly dark and shimmering journey to the bottom of the frozen ocean and back. It's remarkable enough to get all these takes on one basic template to sound somewhat different, given that the source material is really just a skeletal array of sound sheets. Vantage Isle Sessions is for anyone looking for the logical successors to the Basic Channel throne, or just looking for something mellow for those steamy late summer nights. A stone-cold classic of the genre. Don't miss it." -Todd Hutlock, Stylus Magazine/Beatz by the Pound

"Steeped in mystery, Detroit musicians Rod Modell and Mike Schommer (aka Deepchord) are legendary for their hard to find twelve-inch dub techno releases. Their sound is heavily influenced by Berlin dub techno producers like Maurizio, Basic Channel, Chain Reaction, Rhythm & Sound, Blue Train and Pole. While the German sound often has a futuristic metallic edge, Deepchord are known more for the rust and grease, which is part and parcel of those metal parts. Static, analog sounds, deep bass thumps and, of course, deep chords blend in a timeless minimal manner. However, the real gems on this disc are the drifty ambient cuts devoid of beats. This is an excellent album that is on par with the classics from a decade ago!" -Exclaim


"In terms of ambient dub, if Basic Channel is the Father (the source, remote and inaccessible and very powerful) and Pole is the Son (dazzling but ultimately stranded halfway between man and the divine), than Rod Modell’s Deepchord and his Echospace label he run with Steve Hitchell is definitely the Holy Spirit." -Popmatters


"Deepchord’s dub-techno stealthily peels away melody, leaving a bare chassis of beats to ghost-ride down Woodward Avenue. Vantage Isle Sessions, which collects remixes of a 2002 Detroit Electronic Music Festival performance, finds the duo swerving through empty, neon-smeared streets, and recalls Berlin’s Chain Reaction label, minus the anemic minimalism." -XLR8R

"The album scales a magnificent peak in “Spacecho Dub II - Extended Mix” when smeary chords ricochet over a massively deep, bass-heavy pulse, and Hanson's light-speed missile of vaporous propulsion (“Convextion Remix”) is beautiful too.
Long may they run." -Textura

‘Vantage Isle’ is a tremendous achievement that will most likely be held up as a high water mark of the genre for years to come." -Resident Advisor

"My favorite mix is by Convextion (his first remix for another artist). Reedy, distant synth tones sound like a science fiction soundtrack overheard rooms away. An undercurrent of echoes, many difficult to describe, drift in a sonic syrup." -Gridface

"Modell’s music always seems to be in this suspended animation, adrift and afloat in a majestic emptiness." -Dusted Mag

CREDITS:
Written & Produced by Deepchord. Redesigned and Reshaped by Convextion (Gerard Hanson) cv313 (Stephen Hitchell) echospace / spacecho (Rod Modell + Stephen Hitchell)
Additional Mastering, Mixing and Engineering by Ron Murphy @ NSC Mastering, Detroit, USA. Side E/F Remastering and Lacquer cutting by Dietrich @ Complete, NYC, USA. (2018)

Kneading dough is tricky – you should know how it’s supposed to feel. If you try too hard you could make it worse. It’s a beautiful practice – creation with a gentle touch, to work at something so it can be left alone. “If it’s too drawn out it’s awful. It’s easy to give too much.” Dance in the mirror. Contemplate your veiny hands. Who do they remind you of?

You begin by mixing flour and water. “What happens when your people die? Why’d they move the rock to the other side of Ulster Park?” Eliza Niemi asks two seemingly unrelated questions in a rising melody with guitar accompaniment, like fingers playing spider up to the nape of your neck. Gentle pressure. Strands of gluten form to bind the mix. A new question lingers in the binding. When she admits “but I don’t know how to tell if I’m feeling it or not,” that question surfaces through the text. It is reiterated throughout the album. When I’m working with dough I think the same thing to myself.

On Progress Bakery, her second album as a solo artist, Eliza knows to leave some questions alone – to let juxtaposition and tension be the proof. It doesn’t have to be hard. The feelings and revelations they provoke rise in the heat. The smell is sweet. Crispy on the outside and soft all the way through. She playfully slip-slides through words and sounds and images, delighting in surprise, skimming ideas like stones cast across clear water, touching down briefly with uncommon grace.

The question provoked between those opening lines resurfaces in the strands between songs – “Do U FM” is fully formed and beautifully layered, while “Novelist Sad Face” is a short, acapella rendering of gentle curiosity. What is holding these ideas together? Some songs demand more, seem to carry a whole load – eventually the skipping stone will halt to sink and resume its idle duty – while others drift in and out of focus, the way thoughts and dreams become interwoven before the mind is sunk into true sleep.

Music and words don’t always have to interact. Where she decides to keep them apart gives a new contour to where and how she puts them together. The kind of thing you’re supposed to take for granted with songs and their singers comes alive in Eliza’s hands – the little miracle of mixing, kneading, stretching, and stopping.

So often on Progress Bakery, Eliza teases out truth and meaning by asking questions. “Do I wanna be crying?” “Do you want me good or do you want me bad?” “Do I need an eye test?” “I’m writing songs in my head while you’re going over stuff with me — is that cruel??” In “Pocky” Eliza ends with a question that feels to me like the actual biography, succinct and revealing:

I don’t wanna be made to see
I just wanna ask “what’s that?”

Grace that ought to be rare, but in its care and precision is offered humbly, with great generosity, and without announcing itself. Eliza’s simple, miraculous music is given further form and shape by a group of collaborators – invaluable guest musicians Jeremy Ray, Evan Cartwright, Steven McPhail, Kenny Boothby, Ed Squires, Carolina Chauffe, Dorothea Paas, Louie Short, and Avalon Tassonyi. Together with Louie Short, who recorded, mixed, and produced the album along with Jeremy Ray and Lukas Cheung, Eliza has cultivated a richness in sound and texture that prods and provokes the ticklish ear. Barely audible guitar tinkering, a brief lo-fi field recording of trumpets, the harmonic clicking of a looped synthesizer, a flourish of reeds, a child’s conversation, each uncanny sound perfectly placed, rippling out under a soft breeze.

Lay in bed alone at night and ask aloud to the stillness,

“What were you doing at the Albuquerque Airport?
What were you doing there??”

And hear your question answered by a dream of swelling, undulating cellos. Try to grasp at the melody and structure. It’s not an answer (if there could be one), but it moves deeper, closer to the weird layer of fleeting moments and disconnected images, barely perceptible at its core. Wait for the dream reel to click into place.

Eliza took me for a ride in Nicole (her beloved Dodge Grand Caravan) and told me she’d been thinking of the album as an embodiment of transition – and I think every transition, known or unknown, carries the weight of new meaning, skittering off the surface tension of life as you know it, creating ripples, sometimes bouncing off and sometimes breaking through. There is a trick you can use to tell if a dough is glutinous enough. You’re supposed to stretch it out as thin as you can without breaking it and hold it up to the light. If you can see through, even if it renders the world murky and uncertain, you should leave it alone. I love this trick. It’s one that Eliza seems to know intuitively: work gently and ask questions and don’t always expect answers, and when you can, take a glimpse at something new, and then leave.

Kneading dough is tricky – you should know how it’s supposed to feel. If you try too hard you could make it worse. It’s a beautiful practice – creation with a gentle touch, to work at something so it can be left alone. “If it’s too drawn out it’s awful. It’s easy to give too much.” Dance in the mirror. Contemplate your veiny hands. Who do they remind you of?

You begin by mixing flour and water. “What happens when your people die? Why’d they move the rock to the other side of Ulster Park?” Eliza Niemi asks two seemingly unrelated questions in a rising melody with guitar accompaniment, like fingers playing spider up to the nape of your neck. Gentle pressure. Strands of gluten form to bind the mix. A new question lingers in the binding. When she admits “but I don’t know how to tell if I’m feeling it or not,” that question surfaces through the text. It is reiterated throughout the album. When I’m working with dough I think the same thing to myself.

On Progress Bakery, her second album as a solo artist, Eliza knows to leave some questions alone – to let juxtaposition and tension be the proof. It doesn’t have to be hard. The feelings and revelations they provoke rise in the heat. The smell is sweet. Crispy on the outside and soft all the way through. She playfully slip-slides through words and sounds and images, delighting in surprise, skimming ideas like stones cast across clear water, touching down briefly with uncommon grace.

The question provoked between those opening lines resurfaces in the strands between songs – “Do U FM” is fully formed and beautifully layered, while “Novelist Sad Face” is a short, acapella rendering of gentle curiosity. What is holding these ideas together? Some songs demand more, seem to carry a whole load – eventually the skipping stone will halt to sink and resume its idle duty – while others drift in and out of focus, the way thoughts and dreams become interwoven before the mind is sunk into true sleep.

Music and words don’t always have to interact. Where she decides to keep them apart gives a new contour to where and how she puts them together. The kind of thing you’re supposed to take for granted with songs and their singers comes alive in Eliza’s hands – the little miracle of mixing, kneading, stretching, and stopping.

So often on Progress Bakery, Eliza teases out truth and meaning by asking questions. “Do I wanna be crying?” “Do you want me good or do you want me bad?” “Do I need an eye test?” “I’m writing songs in my head while you’re going over stuff with me — is that cruel??” In “Pocky” Eliza ends with a question that feels to me like the actual biography, succinct and revealing:

I don’t wanna be made to see
I just wanna ask “what’s that?”

Grace that ought to be rare, but in its care and precision is offered humbly, with great generosity, and without announcing itself. Eliza’s simple, miraculous music is given further form and shape by a group of collaborators – invaluable guest musicians Jeremy Ray, Evan Cartwright, Steven McPhail, Kenny Boothby, Ed Squires, Carolina Chauffe, Dorothea Paas, Louie Short, and Avalon Tassonyi. Together with Louie Short, who recorded, mixed, and produced the album along with Jeremy Ray and Lukas Cheung, Eliza has cultivated a richness in sound and texture that prods and provokes the ticklish ear. Barely audible guitar tinkering, a brief lo-fi field recording of trumpets, the harmonic clicking of a looped synthesizer, a flourish of reeds, a child’s conversation, each uncanny sound perfectly placed, rippling out under a soft breeze.

Lay in bed alone at night and ask aloud to the stillness,

“What were you doing at the Albuquerque Airport?
What were you doing there??”

And hear your question answered by a dream of swelling, undulating cellos. Try to grasp at the melody and structure. It’s not an answer (if there could be one), but it moves deeper, closer to the weird layer of fleeting moments and disconnected images, barely perceptible at its core. Wait for the dream reel to click into place.

Eliza took me for a ride in Nicole (her beloved Dodge Grand Caravan) and told me she’d been thinking of the album as an embodiment of transition – and I think every transition, known or unknown, carries the weight of new meaning, skittering off the surface tension of life as you know it, creating ripples, sometimes bouncing off and sometimes breaking through. There is a trick you can use to tell if a dough is glutinous enough. You’re supposed to stretch it out as thin as you can without breaking it and hold it up to the light. If you can see through, even if it renders the world murky and uncertain, you should leave it alone. I love this trick. It’s one that Eliza seems to know intuitively: work gently and ask questions and don’t always expect answers, and when you can, take a glimpse at something new, and then leave.

*180g virgin leaded vinyl in a deluxe textured heavy gatefold cover, with paste-on artwork and special anti-static innersleeve.* Note: The pressing is absolute on point!!!!

Vincent Gallo and Harper Simon with a beautifully recorded suite of songs and instrumentals.

" More than two decades since he blew minds with a suite of brilliant releases on Warp, Vincent Gallo returns to the world of music at long last in Butterfly, his duo with Harper Simon, with the project’s full-length debut, “The Music of Butterfly”. A gesture of gentle, DIY / bedroom left-field pop, falling within the rough territory for which Gallo became renowned during the late '90s and early 2000s, while interweaving fascinating flirtations with minimalism and experimentalism, it’s a truly captivating piece of work that’s hard to get off the turntable after the first needle drop.

In the arts, the lines between genius and madness, as well as fact and fiction, often blur. Such, it seems, has always been the life of the artist, filmmaker, actor, musician, and composer Vincent Gallo. A cult figure and a member of various creative undergrounds for the better part of half a century, Gallo has courted controversy, ruffled feathers, and made some of the most singular statements to flirt at the outer edges of popular culture that can be called to mind. Arguably most well known for his work in film, during the late '90s and early 2000s - notably with his soundtrack for “Buffalo 66” and a suite of releases on Warp - Gallo became something of a sensation in the world of independent music for a visionary, incredibly unique and sensitive approach to sonority. For a time, the world was abuzz, waiting on bated breath for more, and yet time passed. Bar a few fragments, appearing here and there, almost nothing has been heard from Gallo, within the world of music, for more than 20 years. That is, until now, with the release of “The Music of Butterfly”, the debut full-length of Butterfly, his duo with Harper Simon: beautifully produced and issued by Family Friend Records - Gallo’s own label, founded in 1981 - in a deluxe edition that simply left us speechless: 180g vinyl in textured heavy gatefold cover with paste-on artwork and thick anti-static innersleeve. More or less picking up from where we last encountered him, spinning captivating melodies and gentle song-craft within the quieter temperaments of DIY, left-field pop, once again, and at long last, Vincent Gallo, encountered in an incredibly successful collaboration with Harper Simon as Butterfly, reminds us that he’s as much a force within the realm of music as he is within film. Not to be missed. This one isn’t going to sit around for long.

Vincent Gallo’s biography reads like the stuff of blaring beauty: a figure of moderate fame in his own right, who has remained at the centre of cultural ferment as the decades have rolled by. Born in 1961, in Buffalo, New York, as the story goes he ran away to New York City at the age of 16 and fell into the brewing counterculture of the Downtown scene, William Burroughs and John Giorno, in addition to the cream of his own peers, and began making paintings, music, and experimenting with film. In addition to being a member of the now legendary band Gray, with the artist, Jean-Michel Basquiat, and the filmmaker, Michael Holman, Gallo appeared in the cult 1981 film “Downtown 81”, before slowly beginning a career as an actor and catching the eye of Claire Denis, who brought his talents into the broader cultural gaze. Catapulted into the public by his own subsequent career as a filmmaker with “Buffalo '66” (1998) and “The Brown Bunny” (2003), both of which were marked by controversy and praise, Gallo further captivated the public with a partially brilliant, if not relatively brief, flurry of activity in the realms of music.

While Gallo had already been making music for roughly two decades at the time of his release of the “Brown Bunny” soundtrack, and the four release issued by Warp in rapid succession between 2001 and 2002 - “When”, “Honey Bunny”, “So Sad”, and “Recordings of Music for Film” - the almost fanatical fandom reached a fever pitch at the moment, allowing him, for some, to be regarded as much, if not more, as a musical artist than an actor and filmmaker. Anyway you cut it, in a few short years, he proved himself to be a polymath of rare talent. Somewhere along the way, while both were working as members of Yoko Ono's Plastic One Band, Gallo met the New York based, highly regarded singer-songwriter, guitarist, and producer, Harper Simon, who also happens to be the son of Paul Simon. The pair fell into an incredibly fruitful duo collaboration, which came to be called Butterfly, and “The Music of Butterfly” being their debut full-length release.

Written, performed, and recorded by Vincent Gallo and Harper Simon in New York City between the winter of 2018 and the spring of 2019, the ten tracks comprising “The Music of Butterfly” are cumulatively a gesture of gentle, DIY / bedroom left-field pop, falling within the rough territory for which Gallo became renowned during the late '90s and early 2000s, making one feel like barely a moment had passed since we’d encountered his graceful hand at song-craft. Stripped back and raw, while retaining a sense of warmth and intimacy, across the length of “The Music of Butterfly” the duo of Gallo and Simon weave something completely captivating at the juncture of minimalism, experimentalism, and pop: meandering moments of texture and tone, slowly forming toward flirtations of melody that flower into song and back again. Somehow playful and light, while also remarkably emotive and personal, it’s almost as though each of these tracks crystallised out the air, unlabored and exactly as they should be without a note or beat more.

An engrossing immersion into both Gallo and Simon’s remarkably accomplished minds, having followed the path toward one another after radically different experiences and careers, “The Music of Butterfly” is one of those records that’ll be hard to get off the turntable after that first needle drop, and rarely leave the listening pile for some time to come. Issued by Family Friend Records in a beautiful deluxe edition that is unmatched even among the most stunning recent productions we can call to mind - 180g vinyl in textured heavy gatefold cover with paste-on artwork and thick anti-static innersleeve - it’s lovely to have Gallo back in the musical mix after so many years. "

Entering its 26th year of activity, the morphing, Los Angeles based experimental outfit, Sissy Spacek, joins Shelter Press with Entrance, among the project's most captivating outings to date. Encountering the duo of John Wiese and Charlie Mumma joined in various configurations by an incredible cast of collaborators - Tim Barnes, Marco Fusinato, Aaron Hemphill, Brad Laner, Katsura Mouri, Ralf Wehowsky, and C Spencer Yeh - collectively transformed into a series a deeply intimate and delicate gestures of musique concrète, Entrance radically repositions the possibilities presented by group improvisation outside of time and place. Founded at the end of the last millennium, the Los Angeles based project, Sissy Spacek, initially emerged from the knotted, fiery context 1990s American noise and grindcore, producing sheets of visceral sonority that quickly set the scene on its head. Going through numerous evolutions, before eventually settling as a duo of John Wiese and Charlie Mumma - joined by a rotating and often recurring cast collaborators - over the last 25 years the band has continuously entered states of evolution that have defied the expectations of its own context, seeding the sonic extremes noise with subtle and sophisticated approaches to free improvisation and musique concrète. Fiercely positioning its efforts within the outer reaches of contemporary experimental music, while resisting the constraints of a singular sound or proximity, Wiese regards Sissy Spacek as being primarily centred around the practice of musique concrète and the pursuit of extremes. From its earliest releases - collage treatments of material gathered from the band's full throttle practice sessions - the project's conceptual framework has continuously evolved within a deeply engaged process of experimentation, not only reworking tactical approaches, but also definitions and perception regarding the location and action of their work. In recent years, this has led to an increasingly varied and diverse output. Percolating within, is a thread marked by a striking sense of delicacy and intimacy, driving forward while doubling as an unexpected challenge, in real time, to perceptions connected to the band's past. Entrance is the most recent of these. Embarking upon the four compositions that comprise the finalized four sides of Entrance, Wiese and Mumma enlisted longstanding collaborators, Tim Barnes, Marco Fusinato, Aaron Hemphill, Brad Laner, Katsura Mouri, and C Spencer Yeh, as well as new initiate, Ralf Wehowsky (of the seminal German electronic noise collective P16.D4), requesting a contribution of sounds from each, determined by a general set guidelines that dictated certain qualities the given sonorities, while allowing for the expression of each player's distinct creative voice. The sets of resulting recordings were then chopped, harvested, manipulated, and reassembled as the four tape compositions that make up the album - Web Of Unfolding Appearance, Figure Of Reflected Light, Trancher And The Inheritors, True Dimension (From The Opaque - Spike) - each blurring the lines of authorship and clear creative proximity in remarkable ways. Where historical gestures of musique concrète tend to draw upon non-instrumental sound sources - regarding its sonorous material as raw elements, unburdened by inherent meaning or association, to be transformed and imbued with musicality - Sissy Spacek turns this position on its head. Entrance comprises works of musique concrète that not only draw upon instrumental sound sources, with all their possible meanings or associations, but also individual characters and personalities of their players, crediting each resulting piece to its respective configuration of contributors. As such, Entrance is an effort of sound collage defined by a rare sense of intimacy and humanity: four pieces that often take on the resemblance of group improvisation, but have, in fact, been assembled outside of time and place. Bent under the ever-present hand of Wiese's tape treatments and manipulation, each of the album's four compositions unfurl startling states of sonic abstraction and percolating texture, marked by a striking sense of hard-shifting structure, that culminate as tense, driven manifestations of ambient music: scrapes, squeals, rattles feedback, rolling drums, bouncing tones, whispers, bent electronics, electric artefacts, and seemingly everything else under the sun, configured into immersive, sublime mediations in sound from the most improbable events.

If every significant artist has an underrated gem in its catalog, then Mirage is that album for Fleetwood Mac. An obvious return to relative simplicity after the dramatic tension of Rumours and experimental ambitions of Tusk, the 1982 album finds the band re-grouping after a brief hiatus and again climbing to the top of the charts. Extremely well-crafted, well-produced, and well-performed, the double-platinum effort distills the group’s hallmark strengths into a filler-free set that never runs short of addictive pop hooks or daft accents.

Sourced from the original analog master tapes, pressed at Fidelity Record Pressing in California, and housed in a Stoughton jacket, Mobile Fidelity’s numbered-edition 180g 45RPM 2LP set presents Mirage in reference sound for the first time. The efforts co-producers/engineers Ken Caillat and Richard Dashut went to capture the splintered albeit formidable band can be heard with stunning accuracy, range, depth, and detail.

Though Rumours understandably gets a permanent spot in the audiophile hall of fame, the smooth, clear, and dynamic sonics on Mirage confirm that the record that stood as Fleetwood Mac’s last effort for five years deserves a place in the same vaunted arena. The presence and imaging of Mick Fleetwood’s percussion alone on this reissue might have you wondering how this slice of soft-rock bliss has gone under-noticed for decades. Other prized aural aspects — separation, definition, impact, tonal balance — are also here in spades.

Like much surrounding Fleetwood Mac in the 1980s, arriving at Mirage was not easy. Caillat searched for studios located outside of Los Angeles on a mission to change up the vibe of the band’s prior recording sessions. Everyone settled on Le Chateau in France, where relations between some members remained icy — and cooperation with the producers strained. Battles with exhaustion, bitterness, and addiction further informed the proceedings at the 18th century complex in the French countryside, where even communal meals were allegedly eaten in silence.

Inevitably, the feelings that co-producer Lindsey Buckingham, Stevie Nicks, Christine McVie, and company harbored — as well as the situations in which they found themselves — drifted into the songwriting. In its rapid ascent to rock-star royalty status, Fleetwood Mac drifted apart, embarked on solo pursuits, and found it was lonely at the top. Emptiness, the illusion of dreams, the longing for love, the want to escape to bygone times of innocence and happiness: Such themes inform a majority of the narratives. Even if the lyrics regularly take a back seat to easygoing arrangements that allow Mirage to come on like a refreshing breeze on a sunny summer afternoon.

Home to three Top 25 singles in the U.S. and having occupied the pole position of the Top 200 album charts for five weeks, Mirage rightfully resonated with the mainstream and attracted listeners on both sides of the pond. And how, via a smart blend of sugary melodies, warm harmonies, interlaced notes, nimble rhythms, taut structures, and passionate vocals. Not to mention the presence of what arguably remains Nicks’ signature song, the biographical “Gypsy,” a meditation on the loss of her close friend Robin Anderson that teems with majesty, mystery, and mysticism — and which gets an assist from Buckingham’s shaded tack piano and richly strummed guitar chords.

Its ranking as an all-time classic aside, that No. 12 hit has plenty of company when it comes to brilliant pop turns on Mirage. On the subject of Nicks, the raspy singer gets a little bit country on “That’s Alright.” Its clip-clopping pace and two-stepping progression complement subtle vocal swells that emerge during the final verse of a tune that is ostensibly about leaving but still conveys forgiveness and grace. And what would a Fleetwood Mac record be without Nicks drawing on the tools of the supernatural — cards, dreams, wolves, and the like — on the twirling “Straight Back.”

Despite the potency of Nicks’ primary contributions, Mirage seemingly unfolds as a tight competition between Buckingham and McVie — and one that ultimately ends in a draw. Buckingham’s salvos include the contagious “Can’t Go Back,” a yearning to time-travel back to the past that’s complete with hall-of-mirrors backing vocals; “Oh Diane,” out-of- left-field ear candy sweetened with hiccupped vocals and salt-and-pepper-shaken grooves; the chiming “Eyes of the World”; and “Empire State,” a delightfully fluttering track whose high-range vocals, lap harp notes, and ringing xylophones hint at the galaxies of sound that would erupt on Tango in the Night.

Then there’s McVie. As elegant, understated, and coolheaded as she’s ever been on record, she pours her heart out on cuts that revolve around her inevitable split with Beach Boy Dennis Wilson. In the process, she punctuates Mirage with a characteristic not always associated with catchy pop music: emotional weight, and the sense of dreaded acceptance in the face of dreams deferred.

“I wish you were here/Holding me tight,” McVie sings over a delicate melody on the album-closing piano ballad “Wish You Were Here.” Though they hoped otherwise, for the members Fleetwood Mac, distance and separation were always close at hand. Believing otherwise, inviting nostalgia, and pretending everything was fine only amounts to a mirage.

Although still very much a secret, Oakland, California's Justin Pinkerton has perfected and expanded his Futuropaco project to a stunning degree over the past seven years. The one-man band is deeply rooted in Pinkerton's masterful drumming, which builds on the legacy of 1960's and 1970's legends such as Tony Allen and Jaki Liebezeit. But he's an accomplished multi-instrumentalist as well, and the Futuropaco sound is a colourful fusion that sees him throw fuzz guitars, flutes, vintage synthesizers and Anatolian string instruments into the mix - seemingly without much effort. The second and final volume of the "Fortezza Di Vetro" series feels like a conclusion, the sound of an artist reaching his creative zenith. It's an experimental album, yet immediately seductive in its energy - channeling the vibey art-rock of Tortoise, Black Sabbath riffage and vintage Italian film music in equal measures. It's such a refined and esoteric blend, yet hits so directly. It's simply impossible not to crank the volume knob once this slab of vinyl is on the turntable, followed by immediate head nodding. Buy the ticket, take the ride. Justin Pinkerton is a vastly talented rhythmsmith, best known as a member of Californian stoners Golden Void. On this project he plays all the other instruments too so he can do what he blooming well feels. And it's not as if the drum solos go on for twenty minutes like those of John Bonham and his pale imitators. Nope. Into tracks that are both jam-packed and concise, Pinkerton has squeezed his love of vintage Italian library music, classic krautrock and heavy psych rock. At one point it suggests Grails have been performing super-speed cover versions of fusion-era Miles Davis with Adrian Younge on production. -The Quietus Futuropaco returns in a big way with Fortezza di Vetro, a buzzing, groove-heavy album that expands on what came before while staying true to the project's origins. Dizzying, fuzzed-out psych with just the right amount of melancholy for good measure. Justin Pinkerton and Futuropaco have done it again. Fantastico! -Complex Distractions

Founded by Robbie Redway and psychedelic researchers Mathieu Seynaeve and WaiFung Tsang, UK-based 'United Freedom Collective' has grown into a network of artists including Jordan Stephens, Falle Nioke, Eliza Shaddad, Labdi, William Rees and Facesoul. Originally conceived around psychedelic therapy sessions, online yoga and breathwork channels, the musical scope has expanded on each of the four EPs released on Maribou State's 'Dama Dama' label, and here continues with their debut on Multi Culti. This time Robbie takes the lead on production and sole vocal duties on all five tracks, presenting a range of influences and style. Lead single 'Between Memories' blends tropes of ecstatic dance with uplifting vocal piano house, somehow making flutes fit in with Detroit strings to epic, hands-in-the-air effect.' Title track ‘Bright Patterns’ bridges the gap between Jungle, Jai Paul, and Jamiroquai, a fusion of funky filtered disco-house and electroclash with side-chained pop vocal hooks. ’El Yo’ smooths things out, a dope, laid back groove with a measured reflection on psychedelic healing and the perils of spiritual bypassing. ‘Higher Drums’ warms things back up for the dancefloor with trumpet, afro-latin percussion, and flute flourishes. Finally, ‘Moonshine’ is a soaring, Amapiano-inflected post-desert-house ballad. Influenced, in their words, 'by birds, trees, Buddhism, yoga, headless way meditations, Jungian analysis, Zen Taoism, Chinese plant medicines, indigeneity, Amazonian and psychedelic cultures, icaros and world healing traditions,' the music is eclectic, ranging from afro-inspired jazz to Chinese folk, psych-rock to dub and dance music, an ambitious and inclusive range, collabs that extend well beyond the borders of western musical traditions. Their sound was described by Clash Magazine as an 'aural mosaic that glitters with colour and potential,' and while the sheen of the production and precision of the arrangements might seem a departure from Multi Culti's left-field endeavours, the psychedelic idealism and global connectivity make it a natural fit with the open-ended ethos of the label. Having already had radio support from KEXP, BBC6 Music (Laverne, Ravenscroft, Charles, Nemone, Letts), Jazz FM and Worldwide FM (Gilles Peterson), with a live show that sold out Dalston Curve Garde and The Waiting Room as well as supporting Maribou State for their recent comeback show at Islington Assembly Hall in London the collective's future is looking exceptionally bright.

Kneading dough is tricky – you should know how it’s supposed to feel. If you try too hard you could make it worse. It’s a beautiful practice – creation with a gentle touch, to work at something so it can be left alone. “If it’s too drawn out it’s awful. It’s easy to give too much.” Dance in the mirror. Contemplate your veiny hands. Who do they remind you of?

You begin by mixing flour and water. “What happens when your people die? Why’d they move the rock to the other side of Ulster Park?” Eliza Niemi asks two seemingly unrelated questions in a rising melody with guitar accompaniment, like fingers playing spider up to the nape of your neck. Gentle pressure. Strands of gluten form to bind the mix. A new question lingers in the binding. When she admits “but I don’t know how to tell if I’m feeling it or not,” that question surfaces through the text. It is reiterated throughout the album. When I’m working with dough I think the same thing to myself.

On Progress Bakery, her second album as a solo artist, Eliza knows to leave some questions alone – to let juxtaposition and tension be the proof. It doesn’t have to be hard. The feelings and revelations they provoke rise in the heat. The smell is sweet. Crispy on the outside and soft all the way through. She playfully slip-slides through words and sounds and images, delighting in surprise, skimming ideas like stones cast across clear water, touching down briefly with uncommon grace.

The question provoked between those opening lines resurfaces in the strands between songs – “Do U FM” is fully formed and beautifully layered, while “Novelist Sad Face” is a short, acapella rendering of gentle curiosity. What is holding these ideas together? Some songs demand more, seem to carry a whole load – eventually the skipping stone will halt to sink and resume its idle duty – while others drift in and out of focus, the way thoughts and dreams become interwoven before the mind is sunk into true sleep.

Music and words don’t always have to interact. Where she decides to keep them apart gives a new contour to where and how she puts them together. The kind of thing you’re supposed to take for granted with songs and their singers comes alive in Eliza’s hands – the little miracle of mixing, kneading, stretching, and stopping.

So often on Progress Bakery, Eliza teases out truth and meaning by asking questions. “Do I wanna be crying?” “Do you want me good or do you want me bad?” “Do I need an eye test?” “I’m writing songs in my head while you’re going over stuff with me — is that cruel??” In “Pocky” Eliza ends with a question that feels to me like the actual biography, succinct and revealing:

I don’t wanna be made to see
I just wanna ask “what’s that?”

Grace that ought to be rare, but in its care and precision is offered humbly, with great generosity, and without announcing itself. Eliza’s simple, miraculous music is given further form and shape by a group of collaborators – invaluable guest musicians Jeremy Ray, Evan Cartwright, Steven McPhail, Kenny Boothby, Ed Squires, Carolina Chauffe, Dorothea Paas, Louie Short, and Avalon Tassonyi. Together with Louie Short, who recorded, mixed, and produced the album along with Jeremy Ray and Lukas Cheung, Eliza has cultivated a richness in sound and texture that prods and provokes the ticklish ear. Barely audible guitar tinkering, a brief lo-fi field recording of trumpets, the harmonic clicking of a looped synthesizer, a flourish of reeds, a child’s conversation, each uncanny sound perfectly placed, rippling out under a soft breeze.

Lay in bed alone at night and ask aloud to the stillness,

“What were you doing at the Albuquerque Airport?
What were you doing there??”

And hear your question answered by a dream of swelling, undulating cellos. Try to grasp at the melody and structure. It’s not an answer (if there could be one), but it moves deeper, closer to the weird layer of fleeting moments and disconnected images, barely perceptible at its core. Wait for the dream reel to click into place.

Eliza took me for a ride in Nicole (her beloved Dodge Grand Caravan) and told me she’d been thinking of the album as an embodiment of transition – and I think every transition, known or unknown, carries the weight of new meaning, skittering off the surface tension of life as you know it, creating ripples, sometimes bouncing off and sometimes breaking through. There is a trick you can use to tell if a dough is glutinous enough. You’re supposed to stretch it out as thin as you can without breaking it and hold it up to the light. If you can see through, even if it renders the world murky and uncertain, you should leave it alone. I love this trick. It’s one that Eliza seems to know intuitively: work gently and ask questions and don’t always expect answers, and when you can, take a glimpse at something new, and then leave.

Francesco Sotgiu has forged a unique and very swinging project of songs. With a quintet consisting of Luigi Bonafede on piano, Emanuele Cisi and Riccardo Luppi on woodwinds, Salvatore Maiore on bass, Francesco on drums, and with special guest Paolo Fresu on trumpet to cap off this heartfelt collection. There is also a nice diversity of groups within this larger collection. A nice trio piece called “Calm” featuring Paolo Birro sitting in with Marco Micheli and Francesco. And one called “Lotus Blossom” where Francesco shows his considerable skills and soul on violin. But the bulk of the material is straight-ahead jazz and is totally swinging and soulful, proving that jazz has no borders and is a worldwide language to which Francesco has added to that tradition with this project and all the great voices he has included here. Bravo maestro.

This is the comment of Gil Goldstein, American accordion player who won 5 Grammys and collaborated with giants such as Gil Evans, Wayne Shorter, and Michel Petrucciani.

This record was recorded in the middle of the pandemic times, and most of the work for preparing this record took place via the telephone: the selection of the songs on paper, the exchange of ideas on arrangements, staff and instruments, a sort of “phone rehearsal” of the structure of the songs, with the choice of a solo; everything else, everything that will happen in the recording sessions, is the result of a controlled improvisation, a jam session masterfully captured in the studio through the use of well-positioned ribbon microphones.

This is why “Passing,” literally “passing” or “crossing”: because the musicians have gone through listening to these songs as teenagers, and find themselves today, as a mature meeting of old friends who create an informal game made of nostalgic fun, great personality, confrontation, and deep spirituality. In the classic “Caravan” by Ellington and Tizol or “Afro Blue” by Mongo Santamaria, Coltrane toning, the Latin accent of the rhythm section supports the interpretation of the theme and the interplay in the solos between the soprano and tenor saxophones by Cisi & Luppi, and the piano by Bonafede.

A certain elegance in the execution distinguishes pieces such as Duke Ellington’s “Sound of Love,” yet another tribute by Mingus to the Duke, with a calibrated solo on the double bass of Maiore and the flute by Luppi, the immortal “Take Five” by Paul Desmond, with the highlighted soprano by Cisi, “Wishes,” “7th Street,” and the eponymous “Passing,” all pieces composed by Sotgiu, characterized by the precise medium/fast drive of the drums and a certain “cinematic” taste of the main themes.

In songs such as “Black Bats and Poles,” composed by trumpeter Jack Walrath for the Mingus Orchestra, and in “Stranatole,” an original piece in which Sotgiu writes a theme of Monk’s influence and enjoys overturning the traditional “Anatole Jazz” structure, the quintet opts for an effective hard bop language, with exciting moments of dazzling virtuosity in Bonafede’s solo. While in Coltrane’s “Wise One” and McCoy Tyner’s “Ballad for Aisha,” we enter a modal, mystical, and ceremonial jazz, of a cosmic depth, which seems to hover in the sweet volume of the great hall of the recording studio. These are truly magnificent interpretations.

A special separate mention for two classics such as “My Foolish Heart” by Victor Young, performed in trio by Sotgiu, Maiore, and the unmistakable trumpet by Paolo Fresu, and the (unfortunately very short) “Lotus Blossom” by Billy Strayhorn and Duke Ellington, which in the piano-violin duo of Birro and Sotgiu, in a minute gives a suspended momentary magic, sums up the roots of African-American jazz music, and also referencing an old-fashioned Italian musical sensitivity, typical of Nino Rota’s music for Federico Fellini’s films.

Cross Record's new album, Crush Me, is steeped in the pressures and wonders of existence—a profound statement, especially coming from artist and death doula Emily Cross. A two-and-a-half-year gestation period offered challenges, disappointments, and joys reflected in the cramped space of the album, which explores how we handle the weights we carry. Emily Cross had held hundreds of Living Funerals and was as many episodes deep into her podcast, What I’m Looking At. She was five years into serving clients as a death doula and fresh off a tour with Loma, her band with Jonathan Meiburg (Shearwater) and Dan Duszynski, when she began work on her fourth album. After moving from Austin, TX to Dorset, UK, she established the Steady Waves Center for Contemplation (named after a track from her second record, Wabi-Sabi ), where she hosted Living Funerals, met clients, scheduled mindful tea sessions, and showcased experimental music nights. All the while, she was scribbling down song ideas. Cross’s Tascam four-track demos finally reached readiness, and she sent them to an interested major independent label. She was encouraged to push her imagination to the limits of what a record could be. So, unlike her usual process of recording as inexpensively as possible, she prepared a two-week recording session in Germany with a group of skilled musicians from around the world. True to her previous work, Cross left plenty of room in her demos for experimentation, collaboration, chance, improvisation, and complete obliteration, then resurrection when necessary. Comfort and traditional structure were eschewed in favor of unaccountable magic, prayers whispered into The Void. Cross is comfortable with the chaotic and unpredictable, a perspective demanded by her work and writing style. The Berlin Airbnb was packed with people, instruments and luggage. During a ride down in a tiny elevator to the studio, Cross realized how central the sense of being crushed was to the album. “I thought of it later and it dawned on me that ‘Crush Me’ perfectly embodied the record,” says Cross. Yes, the weight of a body laying limply atop yours, or the tight squeeze of a hug, can be pleasant. Go too far, and you’re in the hands of a cruel, adolescent god. Upon leaving Germany, the record was unfinished, and without a roadmap. As passages were recorded as isolated parts, Cross and musician Marcin Sulewski collaborated, facing a haphazard brick pile, waiting to be assembled. Work dipped in and out of view like a buoy bobbing in a violent sea over many months. During that time, the aforementioned interested label went radio silent, suddenly not seeming so sure of a thing. Collaborators disappeared, continuing the themes of abandonment, surrender, and disarray that followed the project. Cross physically felt her entire body go numb: In a twist of fate, the record was rescued by long-time friend and supporter Ben Goldberg at Ba Da Bing Records who was eager to help realize the project. Cross worked for months on the album, all the while nursing a pregnancy and continuing her full-time funeral work. The last minute participation of Seth Manchester of Machines with Magnets, who mixed and mastered, was an essential liferaft. He gave true final form to the abstracted songs. Crush Me has the effect of a spell being cast, with songs balancing heaviness and levity. Vocals, guitars, and keyboards float above, as drums and upright bass (often bowed) lurch beneath. On “Rolling Backwards” percussion wanders about while feedback squeals and persists in the distance. “Dorset Area Of Natural Beauty” starts with a thick, unhinged church organ progression punctuated by the disquieting sounds of laughter reaching the point of hysteria. “God Fax” is a slow-moving panic attack, with shallow breaths in and out framing a guttural cacophony like a wooden freighter encountering increasingly turbulent waters and vocals struck emotionless by autotune. The album ends with “Twisted Up Fence,” a reflection on life from outside the wall--wistful, warm, and comforting. Cross, likely with a smile on her face, sings: “You say it’s an endless abyss” “And I say the abyss is the best”

Who is Beatrice? Who is Melissa? Could they be one and the same?

This is the question at the heart of Secret, the duo’s debut album—or at least, that’s what the music seems to suggest. If sound is an extension of ourselves, it can also become a character we shape. The main character of Secret isn’t visible to the human eye, and yet they give off an androgynous and timeless energy, rooted in multiple languages and spaces. As the album unfolds, we sense the fusion of two distinct energies combined into a single, composite being. This constantly shifting, blurred identity comes to life in the album’s profusion of genres: club music, ambient, chanson, trip-hop, UK garage, and tech house. The tracks stretch and contract, following the trajectory of a dual voice.

Behind Secret lies a mélange of perspectives. Beatrice M., a Franco-British artist at the head of the label Bait, curates an innovative blend of syncopated UK club styles (mostly dubstep) and trancy techno grooves. Melissa Weikart, a French-American songwriter trained in classical piano with a deep passion for jazz, makes intimate avant-pop songs that embody her unique, hybrid approach to music-making. The diverse musical collaborations in Secret reinforce a dynamic that is central to both of their artistic journeys from the start, and these collaborations melt seamlessly into the album’s overall aesthetic. Despite a confluence of influences, the implied development of this obscure, extraterrestrial main character grounds us in a refreshing coherence. Secret is rich in variety and style, but above all, it diffuses a calm and serene atmosphere. Even when the BPM speeds up, we are carried along, suspended in Beatrice Melissa’s uncanny world.

These two vinyl records showcase the legacy left by the boogaloo movement in Peru between 1966 and 1975. They comprise twenty-two songs by seventeen artists who recorded on the remarkable local label MAG more than five decades ago and now invite today’s new generations to dance body and soul to these re-releases. You will find outstanding tracks by the likes of Tito Chicoma, Melcochita, Los Kintos, Otto Rojas, Coco Lagos among many others. MAG was one of the most important and prolific labels in Peru and, though it also was involved in releasing a lot of other types of music, its specialty was the tropical variety, which coincidentally, DJs and collectors seem to crave most. Peru developed a major boogaloo scene in the mid-60s, far from the genre’s place of origin, New York, where iconic songs like 'Bang Bang' and 'El Pito', fused soul and funk with Latin sounds, conquering dance halls and winning extensive radio airplay. The music trend soon spread to Caribbean countries and from there made the geographical leap to the city of Lima. 'El Pito', the collective creation of the Joe Cuba Sextet, was particularly popular. Shorn of overelaborate arrangements, the improvisation and spontaneity of the song resonated with the young generation who were avid for new music after the U.S. placed an embargo on the distribution of Cuban music. In July 1966, Rebeca Llave´s label, Disperú, released the 45 RPM of 'El Pito' (and Joe Cuba's LP), promoting the single in the most prestigious newspaper in the country: El Comercio. The press information stated that the record had sold seventy thousand copies in New York and fifty thousand in Los Angeles. That same year local dance versions by the bands of Alfredo Linares (MAG) and Lucho Macedo (El Virrey) were released, followed by another by the band of the Argentinean musician Enrique Lynch who was based in Peru (Sono Radio). These records were a hit with a new generation that embraced Lucho Macedo's band and the garage rock of Los York's with equal enthusiasm. Although Joe Bataan claimed that boogaloo was killed off at the end of the sixties by the labels and their veteran musicians (who conspired against the new generation of singers), Pete Rodriguez, Richie Ray and the Lebrón Brothers continued to release boogaloo records in Peru, but salsa music soon took over.

When it comes to musical discovery, sometimes the stars just align. DJ and record collector, Steve KIW, put Mr Bongo onto this amazing Chilean cover version of Jamie Principle & Frankie Knuckles' all-time classic 'Your Love'. Despite being originally released 13 years ago, it had recently started to prick the ears of house and Balearic connoisseurs in the UK, further cemented by inclusions in the Idjut Boys epic sets. Steve heard them play it, tipped us off and it soon became a favourite at Mr Bongo HQ.



By pure chance when the Mr Bongo DJs joined Luke Una to play at La Paloma ballroom in Barcelona a few weeks later, Luke dropped this incredible interpretation at the peak of his set. A good friend of his, Michelle from Huddersfield, had also put him onto the track and he instantly fell in love. A serendipitous coming together, 'Tu Amor' seemed like the perfect next instalment in the E Soul Cultura discography. The version in question was released in 2012 as part of a digital-only EP.



It came courtesy of the Chilean DJ, producer and singer Mamacita (Carolina Vallejos) and producer Sebastian Roman, aka Persona RS. Meeting Sebastian while out partying in Santiago during a boom time for electronic music in Chile, their shared passion for making house music in Spanish and their admiration for Frankie Knuckles led to the creation of this raw and unique cover version. Recorded on lo-fi equipment, including an old Windows laptop and a borrowed Neumann microphone, it nods to the DIY ethos of the early Chicago productions. The result is a stripped-back, quirky cosmic take on a stone-cold classic, full of squelching synthlines and Carolina's stunning Spanish vocals, that became a club hit on Chile's underground circuit. However, aside from some Latin American and US DJs picking it up, it never got the international recognition it deserved.



Fast forward to 2025, and E Soul Cultura is proud to present the glorious 'Tu Amor' on vinyl for the first time, backed with a new, extended, club re-edit by E Soul Cultura captain Luke Una and Luke Solomon (Classic Music). On first hearing 'Tu Amor' Luke Una recalls, There was a real charm to it, it was quite an unorthodox arrangement, a huge wonkiness and just sounded so DIY in a brilliant way. I was chatting to Luke (Solomon) about how much we loved it and we decided to re-edit it together. Accentuating the wonk of those crazy synths, we've extended it to make a fiercer underground club tool, without taking away that very charming cosmic feel.

I wrote The Shit Punx Hate for Realicide in 2005. This version was made for Decide Today around a decade later, maybe 2015? It was about the pathetic narrow-minded dogmas that were common in Cincinnati punk, being discriminated against when our approach defied dominant aesthetic criteria, chronically misunderstood and rejected without consideration.

This experience in my formative years led to a long path of thought as I entered adulthood. Those feelings of being "other"ed, treated poorly based on who I was, started to seem less significant compared to the prejudices I saw friends faced with. Targets of bigotry due not to a subcultural choice, but aspects of themselves they were born into. Of course I mean things like race, gender, class, abilities. If being dissed by punk rockers sucked for me, imagine what it must feel like being the only black kid in a social circle that can't even recognize its own racism, the only woman in places misogyny is the celebrated standard, having a non-white family at risk of deportation, growing up "male" or "female" when you've always known they are wrong about you, etc. This was my mental gateway into prioritizing these struggles, wanting to become an ally, then even more so an accomplice.

Revolutionary Reason was written in 2018 during my time working with Mass Action for Black Liberation, and revised abruptly this year while recording for this record, as it was inconceivable not to address the epitome of merciless colonial atrocity orchestrated by the state of Israel. While I write this, the IOF is massacring families in the West Bank. The death toll in Palestine is currently estimated at around 41,000 and it hasn't even been a year since this modern Nakba began. I hope these songs help make apparent that whatever you said you "would do" during Jim Crow America, Nazi Germany, Apartheid South Africa, any archetypal history now synonymous with wrongness, yes I can confirm NOW IS THAT TIME to do it ...if you were for real about it that is.

Big respect to my Arab friends who are so patient while I learn the stuff my school conveniently omitted, to my Jewish friends tirelessly combating the violence of their ethnicity being shackled to a cult of Zionism, to native resistance across Turtle Island that articulates so well that this fight is also still/always very domestic, to contemporary hiphop telling today's stories while rock music often merely offers retro fashion, and of course to Kieren and Borg my homies in OZ.

All my love to intifada direct action everywhere dismantling the imposed global suicide pact that is white supremacist capitalism.

~ Robert Inhuman 28 August 2024

Red Motorbike maestro Eddie C drops on the ensemble with an anthemic ode to the most sought-after of desires. We’ve been keeping this secret for far too long; it’s time to bring U Be Mine into the light, complete with remixes from Lex, Da Silva and Marcello Giordani aka Italo Deviance.
It was just over a year ago when Eddie sent us his original demo of U Be Mine. I remember plugging i the speakers in my fat, pressing play. A fash from a place of love that wet, grey day. The lyrical bass, euphoric stabs, the iconic delay, the pining vox. There are times where things seem naturally bound, designed to intertwine. An instant essential. We couldn’t wait to throw it down in the disco. Much like the coveted desire of its vocoder-clad protaganist, we needed a club-ready fx. Eddie, getting the message, sent us over a quick master - the Eddie C ‘Cash’ Version. Over the next year, at parties from Lisbon to Ibiza, I saw how those swirling arps locked onto the foor, how dancers cosied up to its decadent groove. It was peak time, warm-up and wind-down at once. In the true spirit of the ensemble, we got to work curating a cast of balearic technicians to write their distinct shade of depth onto Eddie’s golden letter. And that’s where it lands.
Lex from Athens casts an exotic, eclectic spirit with his Plaka Remix, all shufing percussions and wild, breezy strings, rejigged baselines and NYC disco tackle. Label curator Da Silva ups the ante with his 7-minute club-ready fx: tight kicks and searing acid, all the bells and whistles for your peak-time excursions. Finally, Marcello Giordani shifts into hyperdrive with the ITALO DEVIANCE ACID CONTROL version, conjuring creatures of the night in kaleidoscopic confgurations, a trusted party roller for the most decadent dancefoors.
We’re releasing U Be Mine on 150 pristine discs only. Claim it as yours, forevermore.

Actual Earth Music - Volume 1 & 2’ presents two caustic, yet alluringly unreal live sets from Canadian noise-rock entropy hunters Earth Ball. Following on from the group’s critically appraised ‘It’s Yours’ LP (released 2024 on Upset The Rhythm - UTR164) this release captures the band at the peak of their powers, playing live, composing spontaneously.
Side A features Earth Ball live at The Fox Cabaret in Vancouver, supporting Wolf Eyes on August 4, 2023. Jeremy Van Wyck from the band considers this “the gig that sent us into orbit, really. Causing Olson & Young to wax poetic about our interstellar jams to a fine bloke across the big sea. Upsetting our casual rhythm and forcing our hand. All that talk led to an LP, ‘It’s Yours’, and a full UK tour the following spring”.
Now, with the birth of this live series ‘Actual Earth Music’, it seems only fitting that Volume 1 should be this gig. It’s a doozy. Listening back is a pure revelation. Earth Ball whip up a vortex of thrashing wild energy, the ecstatic release is off the charts. “You don’t always catch every nuance of the jams as they come down. I mean, this one felt good, but upon listening back to the tapes, it sounded very good” confides Jeremy. “It reminded me of Von Trier’s Melancholia: the sound of a large sphere coming toward you to bring doom. However, this one reverses course, heading away to some other shore, bathing you in reflective bliss before saying goodbye—instead of ending humanity as we know it”.
Volume 2 occupies Side B of this LP, showcasing a collaborative summit from the second night of their recent Café OTO residency on May 21, 2024. This event featured Earth Ball laying down three separate sets—all collaborations. This second recording presents their opening performance and features pivotal UK improv luminary Steve Beresford on piano and free-jazz phenomenon Chris Corsano on drums.
Running Time: 42 mins

“We all grew up playing heavy music. For me personally, listening to artists like Swans, Godflesh, Neurosis and Kiss It Goodbye in my 20s was cathartic in a lot of ways. Identifying with people that have a similar world perspective, who are channeling their angst and frustration into the creative outlet of art and music — that was important.”

Josh Graham isn’t just talking about his decades-long career in heavy music, which has included A Storm of Light, Battle of Mice, and many years as the one-man visual department for Neurosis. He’s also talking about the formation of Guiltless, his new band with bassist Sacha Dunable (Intronaut), drummer Billy Graves (Generation of Vipers) and guitarist Dan Hawkins (A Storm of Light).

Guiltless released their debut EP, Thorns, via Neurot Recordings in early 2024. Crushing and cheerless, it seemed to welcome the apocalypse looming on our collective horizon. “The EP had a pretty narrow focus starting from my ideas,” Graham explains. “With this record, my main goal was to really collaborate with Sacha and Dan and Billy because those guys are great songwriters. The new album is meant to open up the sonic palette and explore more territory.”

That new album is Teeth to Sky, the band’s first full-length. Even more pulverizing and focused than its predecessor, the album’s collaborative songwriting approach was paired with an adjustment to the lyrical content.

You can hear it on “One Is Two,” which channels a tightly controlled Meshuggah churn through the more visceral lo-fi approach of Kiss It Goodbye or Swedish noise rock legends Breach. On “In Starless Reign,” Guiltless blend dissonant black metal and thundering doom while Graham invokes humanity’s inability to see the forest through the trees. Then there’s the bruising title track, which combines the gnarled sensibilities of The Jesus Lizard, Cherubs and Barn Owl into a rumination on Mother Nature’s revenge.

Teeth To Sky was recorded remotely by the members of Guiltless—except for the drums, which were recorded by Travis Kammeyer (Generation of Vipers) at Fahrenheit Studios in Johnson City, Tennessee. The album was mixed by Kurt Ballou at God City in Salem, Massachusetts, and mastered by Brad Boatright at Audiosiege in Portland, Oregon.

First things first - you don’t need me to tell you about the significance of Australia in the history of punk. I mean, what am I, Jon Savage? Google it yourself, FFS. Instead, let’s just agree that the speedy, feral racket thrown together by the likes of The Saints, Radio Birdman and The Scientists in the mid-late ‘70s is AT LEAST as deliriously entertaining as anything concocted by their UK/US counterparts, sowing the seeds for seemingly endless garage-inflected noisemakers in the land down under. No one likes using words like ‘tradition’ or ‘heritage’ here - the punk rock clusterbomb is far too messy for any of that business - but also emerging from Australian rock’s primordial soup is the addictive sneer of Stiff Richards. Like their predecessors, the band are a gleefully wracked mess of full throttle energy and barrelling power chords, with songs like ‘Kids Out On The Grass’ and ‘Point of You’ proving at least the equal of ‘(I’m) Stranded’ or ‘Aloha Steve And Danno’. Nine tracks in less than 30 minutes, all winners and all determined to leave you flipping over couches and smashing your TV set. And let’s face it, you may as well; there’s nothing good on. It all builds towards frantic closer ‘Fill In The Blanks’, which rattles around your speakers like the UK Subs trying to play Ed Kuepper riffs at the centre of an earthquake, before grinding to a halt as a voice says, “That’s the one.” Does it sound self-satisfied? Hey, it’s got good reason to - this is the best no-frills garage rock party since Gino & The Goons’ ‘Do The Get Around’, and the only appropriate response is to declare yourself betrothed to Stiff Richards because you can’t imagine your life without ‘em. Don’t believe me? Sort out your ears and get ‘State Of Mind’ in ‘em. Rock’n’roll as it’s supposed to be played.

After a near-total silence of twenty years, Edith Frost is back again, and in full bloom with In Space. Her first new record since 2005"s It"s a Game is just in time - the world needs Edith"s voice back in the conversation. And her ineffable way with a tune . . . It seems Edith needed something, too: from the notebooks of her long hiatus, a line like "I say too much/I wait too long/I wait forever/And notice that it"s gone" speaks volumes about feelings of lack. Overwhelmed by the demands of day-to-day living and the details and anxieties that always come, Edith squirreled herself away for as long as she could - only to find herself isolated, spun even farther into the doldrums. In Space isn"t simply a song-cum-album title so much as a very real exploration of the remote place she"d found herself, with her songs registering this recognition and measuring the vast distances between herself, the life that is and the life that was. It was the only way back in! Over the years away, Edith was immersed in music everyday, and spent lots of time learning - in addition to new lyric perspectives, her reinvention of herself as a keyboard player is one of the waves lifting the album In Space. The keys suggested different places within Edith"s harmonic palette; for us listening, this attenuation seems to create a deep focus on emotional life within the songs and a breathtakingly visceral presence in the performances. Her voice as well, in all its iterations, sounds quite fine and vital. The songs, as ever, are low-key brilliance elevated by the vitality of Edith"s voice. Mark Greenberg, alongside longtime Frost A&R man Rian Murphy, brought fresh arrangement ideas to complement the strange-new-world vibe of Edith"s songs. Recorded at The Loft in Chicago, with invaluable contributions from Jim Becker (Califone, Air Blue Gowns), Sima Cunningham (Finom, formerly OHMME), Bill MacKay and Jeff Ragsdale, In Space feels like the most Edith Frost record yet made, pulled from deep inside with great feeling, awash in harmonized voices and - more often than ever before - featuring her own playing. Alternatively approaching and avowing connection, Edith"s crafty songwriting orbits the human exchange with an increasing sense of possibility. It"s what the world needs the most of today.

Muireann Bradley is a young blues, ragtime, roots and folk guitarist and singer based in Ballybofey in County Donegal Ireland. “This is my first album. Most of these tunes were originally recorded by the great blues men and women who were making records from the 1920s and 1930s right up in some cases to the early 1970s. I have also found inspiration for the renditions recorded here in the playing of some of the musicians who began recording this music in the 1960s and later, and who in some cases learned at the feet of the greats. Many of these guitarists played pivotal roles in the 1960s blues revival and subsequent “rediscovery” of many of the greats of country blues. I grew up steeped in these old blues in the hills overlooking the valley of the River Finn just outside the town of Ballybofey in County Donegal. My father would play this music constantly at home and wherever we went in the car and talk about it endlessly whether anyone was listening or not, telling stories about the lives of these musicians as if they were legend, mythology or the evening news. My father could of course play all this stuff on guitar, I remember watching him when I was very young and thinking “I want to be able to do that”. When I was nine he agreed to teach me and bought me my first little travel guitar. I worked hard to learn how to play but as time wore on I seemed to have less and less time to practice as I became more and more invested in the combat sports I was regularly training and competing in. Then in March 2020 the first Covid lockdowns happened and all contact sports were shut down. I was lost for a while but soon found my way back to the guitar. I was now listening, playing and practicing with a new intensity and focus. In a very serious moment, I wrote out a list of tunes I was going to learn. The first tune on that list was Blind Blake’s “Police Dog Blues”. I’m not sure now how long it took to get that arrangement together but when it was ready we videoed me performing it and posted it on YouTube. It ended up getting a lot of attention, I remember my parents being quite shocked and soon after that Josh Rosenthal got in touch… and here we are! Each individual track on this album was recorded live in the studio and represents one entire take with me singing and backing myself up on guitar simultaneously. Most are either first or second takes. Nothing has been added or taken away, no overdubs or modern recording tricks of any kind have been used at all so at least in some respects this album has been recorded in the same way as those classics of the 1920s and 1930s

2022 Repress

Tapper Zukie's 'Black Man' album originally came out in 1978 as a Jamaican only release on Tapper's' Stars imprint. Long deleted it has become a classic in Mr Zukie's vast cannon of musical biscuits and is well overdue this worldwide release for the first time.
Tapper Zukie (b1956. David Sinclair, Kingston, Jamaica) was raised in the rough and tough West Kingston area of Jamaica, between the districts of Trench Town and Greenwich Farm. Living pretty much on the streets from an early age, the youths including the young Tapper had no choice but to fall into the hands of the Political Parties that controlled various ghetto areas of the town. Music seemed like the only way out of a life of crime and gang culture. A path that Tapper Zukie found by the mid 1970's was establishing himself as a named star on the DJ Roots circuit. Back home in Jamaica he was also getting a name for his production work for other local singers such as Prince Allah and the group Knowledge. To release these productions and his own material in Jamaica, Tapper started up his own label called Stars. It's this label that saw the initial release of this album 'Black Man'. A great collection of Tapper tunes such as his biblical cut 'My God Is Real', 'Revolution' and the tile track of this collection 'Black Man' and some work overs of some of his felloe Jamaican Artists like 'Poor Man Problem' a work over of Johnny Clarke's ' Blood Dunza' and also Mr Clarke's Leggo Violence'. 'Yaga Yaga' re working Horace Andy's and Tapper's big hit 'Natty Dread ah She Want'. 'Gather Them' a reworking of Knowledge's tune of the same name with the help from bands like Jah Wisdom and Delroy Fielding. A great collection of tunes and reworkings that we hope will find a wider audience with this release.
For the CD issue of this release we had added Tapper's 'Liberation Struggle', 'Get Ready', 'Prophesy' and 'Fire Bun' tracks from Tapper Zukie's back catalogue that seem to sit well and follow the theme and meanings of the 'Black Man' album.

Powerful works of art have traditionally sprung from some source deep within an artist and, if they strike the right tone, resonate with an audience to leave a lasting mark. But what if that equation were reversed: what if an artist were to draw their inspiration from deep within their audience, and use that to reflect those ideas, emotions, hopes, fears, pains and aspirations back to us?

Over a two year journey, audio-visual artist and electronic innovator Max Cooper has inverted the creative process by collecting hundreds of anonymous quotes, posing deep but open questions such as "What would you like to express which you cannot in everyday life?" and "What is it like to exist inside your head?"

The goal: to understand what it is truly like to be human right now. The result: his new album On Being, to be released in February 2025 with the first single "Sun In A Box" coming this September 4th.

With On Being, Cooper aimed to probe under the synthetic surface of social media to "create a snapshot of our minds these days," as he puts it by asking people to share anonymously what they dare not ever say publicly. The result is an emotionally raw and shockingly honest kaleidoscope of confessions, ranging from suicide contemplations to miserable marriages to simple pure loneliness, contrasting with hundreds of anonymous confessions of love and longing.

"I was interested in the way I interact with people for my writing process, which usually involves a one-way communication of feelings and ideas that I later find out whether they resonate with others or not," says Cooper.

"With this I could start instead with people's thoughts and feelings, what resonates for them, and make my own interpretations of those musically and visually, and then send those back out to everyone. It's more of a collaborative approach to making an album, and more intense."

Grief, hope, regret, joy, hurt and love form the basis for each track, taking Cooper's ever-evolving creative process in a completely new direction - with profoundly intense results.

"Rendering the experience of being is at the core of what I do musically - but I hadn't realised the impact that other people's words on being would have on me until I started reading the database of thoughts," he says.

"It was like finding a secret window into everyone's minds, and discovering amongst the chaos, pleasure and pain, the experiences that we all share at different times of our lives, and overwhelming emotions and connections that call out to be explored."

Despite what we see in the maelstrom of rage in the echo chambers of society ‘On Being’ reveals that humans still have an innate need to trust one another and express communal generosity - more easily done from the safety of an anonymous portal.

"The quotes carried so much weight for me - I interpreted them with my usual musical tools, but as you can hear in the music, everything got more extreme as I dove into the depths of what everyone had to say later in the record," says Cooper.

The result is a unique work of art that demonstrates unequivocally not only the power of using music without words to express emotions, but the power of words to express what seemed to be inexpressible.

On Being will continue to evolve as Cooper gathers more confessions to feed into this ecosystem of emotions and to create a new range of art projects and other accompanying works which hopefully will speak truthfully to humanity today - and of who we are and who we can become.

‘Colours Revisited’, a revision of Adam F’s MOBO Award-winning 1997 debut album is a story of musical rebirth and passion. Adam F, realising that ‘Colours’ had found a new audience—partly thanks to artists like PinkPantheress—decided to recreate the album. Instead of simply remastering the tracks, Adam went all in. Over two years, he meticulously reworked the original music, from restoring vintage instruments like his Fender Rhodes piano to enlisting UK jazz legends like Julian Joseph. Vocalists including Kirsty Hawkshaw and the late MC Conrad re-recorded their parts, while new solos from world-class musicians added fresh life to the tracks.

“Colours holds a special place in my heart because it was not only my first solo album, but also because I had the opportunity to collaborate with diverse talents,” says the seminal producer on his ground-breaking album. “Musicians of a calibre such as Dave Ital (Guitars), The Jazz Great Julian Joseph (Keyboards and Fender Rhodes), MC Conrad (MC/Artist), Roni Jordan (Jazz a guitarist who had a hit with Miles Davis’ “So What”), Tim Philbert/Tim the Bass (Bass), Greg Leicester (Bass), Maurice Capillaire/MC MC (Live MC)…”

Adam continues “We were honoured to be nominated for MOBO “Best album of the year” alongside renowned acts of that time, including Hinda Hicks, Des’ree, Lighthouse Family, and Massive Attack. In fact, I was so convinced that we wouldn't win that I didn't prepare a speech, and that definitely showed in my genuine surprise. Colours also went on to be a top 20 UK National Chart hit which lead to Metropolis winning Tune of the Year at the Underground Awards. Music In My Mind from the same album was inspired from Herbie Hancock ‘Rocket’ and ‘I Thought It Was You’.

“Fast forward to 2020, I never thought of ever revisiting ‘Colours’. But it seems that time has come round full circle, the interest is there.” The revisited album deftly weaves together the energy of new live instrumentation with the 80’s British electronica and jazz fusion inspired sounds of the original.
The result is a project which not only brings the album into the glistening present but somehow manages to add further depth and sense of understanding of the original ‘Colours’, the influences latent within it and how and why it has gone on to influence so many others since it’s inception throughout the world. This is a must have album which pays homage to what has become a cornerstone of British electronic music history.

‘Colours Revisited’, a revision of Adam F’s MOBO Award-winning 1997 debut album is a story of musical rebirth and passion. Adam F, realising that ‘Colours’ had found a new audience—partly thanks to artists like PinkPantheress—decided to recreate the album. Instead of simply remastering the tracks, Adam went all in. Over two years, he meticulously reworked the original music, from restoring vintage instruments like his Fender Rhodes piano to enlisting UK jazz legends like Julian Joseph. Vocalists including Kirsty Hawkshaw and the late MC Conrad re-recorded their parts, while new solos from world-class musicians added fresh life to the tracks.

“Colours holds a special place in my heart because it was not only my first solo album, but also because I had the opportunity to collaborate with diverse talents,” says the seminal producer on his ground-breaking album. “Musicians of a calibre such as Dave Ital (Guitars), The Jazz Great Julian Joseph (Keyboards and Fender Rhodes), MC Conrad (MC/Artist), Roni Jordan (Jazz a guitarist who had a hit with Miles Davis’ “So What”), Tim Philbert/Tim the Bass (Bass), Greg Leicester (Bass), Maurice Capillaire/MC MC (Live MC)…”

Adam continues “We were honoured to be nominated for MOBO “Best album of the year” alongside renowned acts of that time, including Hinda Hicks, Des’ree, Lighthouse Family, and Massive Attack. In fact, I was so convinced that we wouldn't win that I didn't prepare a speech, and that definitely showed in my genuine surprise. Colours also went on to be a top 20 UK National Chart hit which lead to Metropolis winning Tune of the Year at the Underground Awards. Music In My Mind from the same album was inspired from Herbie Hancock ‘Rocket’ and ‘I Thought It Was You’.

“Fast forward to 2020, I never thought of ever revisiting ‘Colours’. But it seems that time has come round full circle, the interest is there.” The revisited album deftly weaves together the energy of new live instrumentation with the 80’s British electronica and jazz fusion inspired sounds of the original.
The result is a project which not only brings the album into the glistening present but somehow manages to add further depth and sense of understanding of the original ‘Colours’, the influences latent within it and how and why it has gone on to influence so many others since it’s inception throughout the world. This is a must have album which pays homage to what has become a cornerstone of British electronic music history.

Shards is a collection of pieces originally written for various film and TV soundtracks
Tim Hecker has scored over the last half decade.

These compositions were originally written for scoring projects including Infinity Pool, The North Water, Luzifer, and La Tour.

Press quotes for No Highs (2023):

"Tim Hecker has become one of the most pre-eminent and nuanced electronic producers of his
generation." New York Times

"Hecker pairs expansive and bright songs with more repetitive compositions, capturing the beauty in uneasiness and vice versa…” Resident Advisor

“It's somewhere between a replenishing bath and an out-of-body experience.” All Music

"The shapes it makes in the air are often wounding, but also graceful. And like all of his work, it is
devastating in the best way possible.” The Quietus

"The love of creation seems to be what drives him and that’s a special thing to be cherished.” New Noise Magazine

“To his credit, Hecker isn't just good at this stuff - he helped write the playbook.” Boomkat

After two pandemically conditioned ‘reaction’ albums - Yay! (2023) and Neigh!! (2024) - a few non-album singles and a compilation album, a downsized and sleek Motorpsycho is back where we all know and love them, with an epic, sprawling double album, filled to the brim with inventive, organic and ecstatic rock-based music. Rejoyce Psychonaut! This eponymously titled, 11 song work, has exactly as much variety & diversity, accord and discord, as one expects from a band that has released a few albums before, and that these days must be regarded as an institution in European rock. From concise 3min-something pop-rockers, to 20mins plus progressive epics, via acoustic intimacies and psychedelic wig-outs, this is concentrated Motorpsychosis: commenced Rebis, countdown initiated. Ever closer. Ever sharper... Since the traditional 3 or 4 piece rock band seems to be a dying breed these days, and MP always was a band in flux anyway, a new pragmatic era has begun in the Psychoverse. The band has, in what one might call alchemical terms, been ‘dissolved and purified’, and is by now again reduced to the core two founding members HMR & BS. This is nothing new, it has happened a few times before, but these days they are also the owners and creators of the record company NFGS, which is now the hub of all recorded band activity, and Motorpsycho marks the final severance of existing ties to other labels for the first time in 35 years. If ‘freedom is free of the need to be free’, this is it. Yikes! The minimalist title of the album is then not just easy to remember, it’s also a statement: a new era has begun in the Psychoverse, a state of affairs reflected in execution and details as well as title, if not perhaps, in ambition or size: “Senex psittacus negligit ferulam” *. This is a time of new beginnings for a band that has spent two years consolidating and reseting before charging ahead anew on a new path, trumpets blaring (...and trumpets don’t come much more blaring in the Psychoverse than with this grandiloquent hyperbole. Good fun! ). New day rising indeed. The core band was adroitly helped by a gaggle of greats from all over the Scandinavian musical landscape on these recordings: drummers Ingvald Vassbø and Olaf Olsen, string arranger/violinist Mari Persen, vocalist Thea Grant, and - as usual - honorary psycho, brother Reine Fiske, were all fellow travellers on this musical journey. Motorpsycho was co-produced by the band and Deathprod, and mixed by Andrew Scheps. Motorpsycho are not the best at what they do, they’re the only ones that do what they do. NFGS2025 *: “Senex psittacus negligit ferulam,” or “An old parrot doesn’t mind the stick.”

Italian composer and saxophonist Laura Agnusdei returns with “Flowers Are Blooming In Antarctica” a career defining record that sees the artist diving into uncharted waters, a profound timeless meditation on our relationship with planet Earth, the eco-conflicts arising and the fascination with non human forms of life, backdropped to a vivid soundtrack of coral exotica, spiritual Jazz, fourth-world minimalism, tropical electronics, tribal futurism and contemporary elegance.

Every step of Laura Agnusdei’s path, from electroacoustic experimentation to her constant research based upon the acoustic dimension of wind instruments and their interaction with polymorphic electronic sounds, seems to have pivoted into a new sense of awareness, as if the mind and intellectual practice has finally caught up with the body, the heart and the soul, resulting in her most organic and transcendent work yet. “Flowers Are Blooming In Antarctica” is loosely inspired around a trifecta of pioneering ideas that explore unconventional reality: James Bridle’s ‘Ways Of Being’ with his radical story that mixes ecology, tech and intelligence; Luigi Serafini’s late-70s fantastical ‘Codex Seraphinianus’, an unparalleled collection of flora, fauna, anatomies metamorphosed into new fragile beings; J.G. Ballard’s climate-fiction foreshadowing sci-fi ruminations. These influences shift Agnusdei’s musical trajectory injecting doses of terrestrial malaise, the earthy sub-saharan ‘Ittiolalia’ with its wah-wah filtered sax and trance inducing groove; the rubbery playfulness of ‘Oasi Bar’; the gentle eco-system of ‘P.P.R.N’ reminiscent of Herbie Hancock’s innovative synthesis of funk, space and synthesizers; the kaleidoscopic northern lights of ‘Emperor Penguin Lullaby’, where south-east Asian echoes reach icy shores; the Jon Hassell hyper-ambience of ‘Cuttlefish REM Phase’; the post-apocalyptic march of ‘The Drowned World, a jazz standard for an artificial civilization on the brink of self-destruction. Nothing feels out of place and it’s no coincidence that one of the most powerful messages on the record is delivered on centerpiece ‘Are We Dinos?’ via an interview conducted with two preschoolers. Radical optimism or sonic liberation?

Laura Agnusdei’s tenor sax cuts deep all across “Flowers Are Blooming In Antarctica”, a laser baton raised up to the clouds, a conductor orchestrating devotional soundscapes for a three-eyed dolphin, guiding us through prismatic pastures and acidic oceans. Her tropicalized realm is pin-pointed with Miles-like sheer clarity, a bristling nakedness on the verge of exploding at any time, creating an album where ascension becomes the unifying code.