quête:another body found

Limited metallic silver/white "disco ball" splatter vinyl available while supplies last.

Oakland's Naked Roommate have been slinking around the Bay Area lighting up stages, shaking asses & confounding listeners since 2018, when the group - originally just the duo of real-life partners Andy Jordan & Amber Sermeno (both formerly of The World) - self-released a cassette of demos (2018's "Naked Roommate"). Members Michael "Mig" Zamora & Alejandra Alcala (Blues Lawyer) joined soon after to augment the sound & live band with their proper full-length album "Do The Duvet", co-released in September of 2020 via UK label Upset! The Rhythm & Trouble In Mind. 2024 finds the lineup expanded even further to incorporate the horn section of Geoff Saba & Jeanne Oss on tenor & alto saxophones as well as percussion & marimba as the band readies their sophomore effort, the dizzyingly ecstatic "Pass The Loofah" Recorded by members Andy Jordan & Mig Zamora from 2021-2023 as time & restrictions allowed, "Pass The Loofah" retains the wild energy of their debut, but leans into the rhythmic throbs perpetuated by forbears like Kid Creole & The Coconuts, Lizzy Mercier Descloux & ESG; the signature sound of UK's On-U Sound & NYC's 99 Records, but with a decidedly West Coast irreverence & a knack for absurdist exposition. Make no mistake, this is music designed to make your body MOVE & Naked Roommate won't stop until they 've made sure every ass is shook. The band freely incorporates elements of the dancier side of post-punk (think A Certain Ratio or Liquid Liquid) as well as disco, funk, & house music. However, the group's uplifting melodicism belies a deeper subtext, understanding the importance of the sense of community of dance music & the culture surrounding it and leaning into a Neo-socialist lyrical context. Shit is fucked, & we get thru it by helping one another & acknowledging & addressing the failures of disaster Capitalism & tech-bro hegemony (a state the band is all-too familiar with, living in The Bay Area) Take the first single "Bus"; a four-on-the-floor banger & salutary paeon to the ups & downs of the people's transport that throbs & pulses with a late-night sashay (and a bridge that launches the tune into the stratosphere). Elsewhere, "Fight Flight "s funky horn stabs and Sermeno's slinky vocals swoon over Numan-esque synth squiggles that are fortified & funkified toward the dance floor. "Broken Whisper " edges into new territor y for the group, adding a Caribbean flavor a'la Kid Creole or The Specials that punctuates the persistent & synthetic beats underneath. Meanwhile instrumental interludes like "Ducky & Viv", "G-Y pt. 1" & "G-Y pt. 2" oscillate into zones of sci-fi meets soap opera soundtracks, sounding not unlike the electronic experiments of UK industrial pioneers Chris & Cosey. Album closer "I Can't Be Found" might be the album's secret weapon; It 's swooning synth melody & processed vocals recall early Daft Punk or MGMT by way of Derrick Carter & The Au Pairs. It 's a beautiful song; perfect for the late night (or early morning) car ride home from the club. "Pass The Loofah" is released worldwide on October 25th, 2024 via Trouble In Mind Records digitally via most DSPs & on black vinyl & limited "disco ball " silver vinyl.

Brunson debuts on Rekids Special Projects with ‘Intimacy Between Friends’. Discovered in a Mike Banks interview by Benji B, ‘Intimacy Between Friends’ releases on RSPX 18th October.

Brunson’s ‘Intimacy Between Friends’ EP on Rekids Special Projects kicks off with 'Aminal'. Originally discovered via a 2017 BBC Radio 1 interview between Benji B and Underground Resistance co-founder Mike Banks, ‘Aminal’ was played on the show and subsequently sought out by Matt Edwards for release on RSPX in 2024 as part of the ‘Intimacy Between Friends’ EP.

‘Aminal’ by Brunson is a ten-minute odyssey into atmospheric deep techno. Wiggling acidic synth motifs and warm, radiant pads bring the soul to a tight groove, constantly evolving and allowing you to sink ever deeper into majestic chords which wash over you like rays of sunlight. Brunson’s 'My Friend Ryan' is another classic Detroit sound with machine warmth and energetic drum programming, which all work together to make you move your body while your heart is enriched by its vibrant soundscape.

Brunson released his first EP in 2023 via Berlin’s Tresor Recordings but has been active for a number of years before this as a Midwest American and Motor City producer while being the VJ behind Juan Atkins’ Model 500 shows. He now releases the ‘Intimacy Between Friends’ on Radio Slave’s Rekids Special Projects, already supported by artists such as Luke Slater, Laurent Garnier, and Jerome Sydenham.

The Well is the second album by the duo So Sner, composed of Susanna Gartmayer (bass clarinet) and Stefan Schneider (electronics). Recorded over nearly two years in various studios and spaces, the album reflects So Sner's extensive touring across Europe. The final mixing took place in Vienna at the studio of Martin Siewert, who served as both co-producer and mastering engineer. Known for his meticulous attention to sonic detail, Siewert brings his unique techniques and distinctive sound enhancements to the album, resulting in a work that is both stylistically cohesive and daringly uncompromising.

So Sner’s critically acclaimed debut album REIME (TAL26, 2021) was celebrated for its innovative fusion of bass clarinet and electronic sounds in unexpected and surprising ways. With The Well, the duo explores both fluid and dissonant sonic landscapes, embracing different structural and sonic challenges. The result is a quieter, more introspective set of compositions than many might have anticipated. The album is a statement of two confident collaborators crafting complex, spatial musical moments in their own distinct manner.

The music on The Well generates a multiplicity of effects that transcend conventional oppositions such as hand-played versus programmed, composition versus improvisation, or analog versus digital. The album suggests a re-articulation of these categories, allowing the ten tracks to gradually blend one musical idea into another, and one musician into another, in a circular and complementary fashion. The polymetric permutations and exploratory reed components create a soundscape where all elements coexist harmoniously, without compromising or diminishing each other’s presence.

With its sparse sound architecture, The Well invites listeners into a space of effective emptiness, offering room for the mind and body to explore—a sonic island where one can develop sensuality through patient movement.

For So Sner, live performance is a passion of the mind, and since they began working together in 2020, their music has taken them to many different places. The live experience has deeply influenced the recorded music on this album, with the interplay between live performance and studio work informing their creative process. The Well captures the genuine act of exploring new territories, serving as a storage place for the time and space shared by the duo, re-filtering their experiences of performing and traveling together.

The Well is a lucidly playful and ambitious album by two contemporary musicians who are continually learning to create and respond to the subtle and significant changes in their music, maintaining momentum throughout the entire work.

In addition to her work with So Sner, Susanna Gartmayer has recently collaborated with artists such as Joe McPhee and Maria Portugal, and remains a member of her long-running band, the Vegetable Orchestra. Stefan Schneider, founder of the label TAL, has recently performed with Garth Erasmus from Cape Town and fine art luminary Katharina Grosse.

For Dutch artist Stefan Vincent, the feeling of melancholy also offers the opportunity for beauty to be found. “Decay and loneliness can serve a purpose. Depression can teach you things. To feel deep sadness also means the ability to feel profound
emotions.” he says. With this in mind, his debut album on MUSAR Recordings, “Post- Melancholy”, unpacks the twists and turns of grappling with this emotion, drawing from breaks, electro and IDM to make his most intricate work to date, after previous releases on Token, Dynamic Reflection, Symbolism, and Non-Series. Throughout “Post-Melancholy” Vincent traces the wave of melancholy and how it moves through the body, which allows for lighter moments alongside darker moods. Perhaps the lightest track on the album is its acidic-breaks opener, “Eyes Unclouded”, with its soaring acid lines and dazzling synths, which acts as a false pretense for the rest of the album. Tracks like “Poise”, “Arpeggino” and the meditative “Yonghegong Lama Temple Exit F” also break up the intensity. However, nestled between the more pacey, bass-weighted tracks on the album, these lighter openings still feel like tear-jerkers.

The more common associations of melancholy show up on tracks like “Another Skin To Wear” and “You Know This Isn’t Going To End Well”, which all create a more ominous feel via IDM and the polyrhythmic structures of drum’n’bass. Particularly on “Another Skin To Wear”, which borrows its name from a Radiohead lyric, the track's swooping motion feels realistic to melancholy’s chaotic and often unpredictable path. But, like all great storytellers, Vincent leaves the most poignant moment of the album for last with the rolling “8AM on the Train… (For Maarten)” devoted to his dear friend, Maarten, who sadly passed away at the young age of 36. This LP is dedicated to Maarten de Vries (1986-2022)

It’s abundantly clear from the first bars of their 5th studio album Through Other Reflection, that this is, and could only ever be, The Soundcarriers. From the enchanting vocal duets of folk-bidden Chanteuses Leonore Wheatley and Dorian Conway; to the precise bass lines of Paul Isherwood and the limber, jazz-cool, Hal Blaine-esque drums of his his co-songwriter Adam Cann; from the fairy-like flutes, 60s-garage guitars and organ sounds pilfered from the archives of exotica - listening to the Soundcarriers resembles a rediscovery of all the most prized, esoteric corners of the 1960s, all bundled up, warped and refracted through the quartet’s astutely modern cultural lens. Channelling Tropicalia, Middle Eastern psychedelic Jazz/Funk, The French Library sounds of Nino Nardini, and a whole host of lavish obscurites beside, Through Other Reflection delivers another sonic adventure from one of the most unique and distinctive voices of British Psychedelia. After an 8 year wait for their album 4 - 2022’s Wilds - it thankfully didn’t take so long for the follow-up this time round. In many ways, this feels like a companion to Wilds; recording again at their Nottingham warehouse studio, Through Other Reflection retains that same organic glow, all the passions and imperfections of a tightly clipped unit jamming out these living, breathing pop-art nuggets as if straight onto the acetate.”We wanted to keep an air of spontaneity with this album and not get too bogged with the recording process”, explains Cann, “It was more a case of getting the songs as tightly written and arranged as possible first so we could get them down quickly in the studio. It always takes longer than you think” Less packed with strident pop hooks as its predecessor however, the music of Through… has been given extra licence to breathe, stretch out, and wander more uncharted terrains. While gleaming psych-pop of tracks like ‘The City Was’, or ‘Already Over’ confidently carry on from where they left off, from the album’s 2nd track ‘Always’, the trip becomes a little less predictable. Starting out as a smoky Procol Harum-meets-French-Psych organ ballad, the music drifts, as if of its own accord into an eerie, garage trance that lingers, cycles, and hypnotises, growing ever stranger, reaching ever-further away from its point of conception. And almost every track on Through Other Reflections holds that outer-body moment, where the band fix themselves on a limber, lysergic groove, lose all grip on time and reality, and melt themselves away into a liquid state of blind euphoria. There are sequences on this record that feel more like rituals than songs, built upon a single hypnotic rhythm which, like the centre of a vortex, pulling everything under its beatific command. Take the finale to ‘What We Found’ for instance, sounding like a ghostly march across the psychedelic moors, or ‘Feel The Way’, where a single athletic drum-loop rises and rises, growing ever more urgent and suspenseful underneath its frantic harpsichords and rasping flutes. Full of such rich stylisms as these, The Soundcarriers showcase themselves as abstract storytellers par excellence by virtue of their textures and arrangements alone. Resembling Romantic composer Maurice Ravel, but if he had just a four-piece rock band at his disposal, Through Other Reflects is rich with detail; there’s shakers, rattles, clarinets, booming drums; there’s synthesiser swarms, chiming xylophones, vintage organs and experimental Cluster & Eno-esque ambiences. Within all this nuance the music flows like some undisclosed narrative swathed in a magnetic secrecy. “It almost comes across like a story in some ways”, says Cann of the album, “the music is quite sectional with elements of exotica and cinematic type layers, it's a good balance of grooves, tunes and weirdness”. No more is this “epic cinematic feel” heard more proudly than on short instrumental ‘Sonya’s Lament” - its innate, hauntological atmospheres befitting a Peter Strickland soundtrack, or the classics of Lex Baxter, the so-called ‘Founder of Exotica’ himself. On the other hand, providing a greasier undercurrent to all these bucolic sounds is a leaning towards a more “direct” lyricism referencing more “external concerns. Laying down the first tracks for the album in the wintry gloom of pre-lockdown 2020, and drawing inspiration from time spent in Berlin, Through Other Reflections returns to some of the post-apocalyptic futurism explored in 2014’s Entropicalia - a loose concept album inspired by J.G Ballard’s The Drowned World. “The songs explore a disillusionment with the way things are going particularly after 40 years of neoliberalism”, says Cann, “They follow that folk-song tradition of wanting to escape to an imagined time, but here it’s more urban than pastoral. The first couple of ideas I came up with when doing some music in Berlin and had some time to wander aimlessly. And think the atmosphere seeped in, particularly on The City Was and Already Over. He continues, “One aspect of the title, ‘Through Other Reflections’ is about synthesis and layers of influence. How things can be filtered through other things and change the perspective. This is something you get in cities as well.” Though, as with everything The Soundcarriers make, “It can mean anything. It also just sounds kind of cool.”

It’s abundantly clear from the first bars of their 5th studio album Through Other Reflection, that this is, and could only ever be, The Soundcarriers. From the enchanting vocal duets of folk-bidden Chanteuses Leonore Wheatley and Dorian Conway; to the precise bass lines of Paul Isherwood and the limber, jazz-cool, Hal Blaine-esque drums of his his co-songwriter Adam Cann; from the fairy-like flutes, 60s-garage guitars and organ sounds pilfered from the archives of exotica - listening to the Soundcarriers resembles a rediscovery of all the most prized, esoteric corners of the 1960s, all bundled up, warped and refracted through the quartet’s astutely modern cultural lens. Channelling Tropicalia, Middle Eastern psychedelic Jazz/Funk, The French Library sounds of Nino Nardini, and a whole host of lavish obscurites beside, Through Other Reflection delivers another sonic adventure from one of the most unique and distinctive voices of British Psychedelia. After an 8 year wait for their album 4 - 2022’s Wilds - it thankfully didn’t take so long for the follow-up this time round. In many ways, this feels like a companion to Wilds; recording again at their Nottingham warehouse studio, Through Other Reflection retains that same organic glow, all the passions and imperfections of a tightly clipped unit jamming out these living, breathing pop-art nuggets as if straight onto the acetate.”We wanted to keep an air of spontaneity with this album and not get too bogged with the recording process”, explains Cann, “It was more a case of getting the songs as tightly written and arranged as possible first so we could get them down quickly in the studio. It always takes longer than you think” Less packed with strident pop hooks as its predecessor however, the music of Through… has been given extra licence to breathe, stretch out, and wander more uncharted terrains. While gleaming psych-pop of tracks like ‘The City Was’, or ‘Already Over’ confidently carry on from where they left off, from the album’s 2nd track ‘Always’, the trip becomes a little less predictable. Starting out as a smoky Procol Harum-meets-French-Psych organ ballad, the music drifts, as if of its own accord into an eerie, garage trance that lingers, cycles, and hypnotises, growing ever stranger, reaching ever-further away from its point of conception. And almost every track on Through Other Reflections holds that outer-body moment, where the band fix themselves on a limber, lysergic groove, lose all grip on time and reality, and melt themselves away into a liquid state of blind euphoria. There are sequences on this record that feel more like rituals than songs, built upon a single hypnotic rhythm which, like the centre of a vortex, pulling everything under its beatific command. Take the finale to ‘What We Found’ for instance, sounding like a ghostly march across the psychedelic moors, or ‘Feel The Way’, where a single athletic drum-loop rises and rises, growing ever more urgent and suspenseful underneath its frantic harpsichords and rasping flutes. Full of such rich stylisms as these, The Soundcarriers showcase themselves as abstract storytellers par excellence by virtue of their textures and arrangements alone. Resembling Romantic composer Maurice Ravel, but if he had just a four-piece rock band at his disposal, Through Other Reflects is rich with detail; there’s shakers, rattles, clarinets, booming drums; there’s synthesiser swarms, chiming xylophones, vintage organs and experimental Cluster & Eno-esque ambiences. Within all this nuance the music flows like some undisclosed narrative swathed in a magnetic secrecy. “It almost comes across like a story in some ways”, says Cann of the album, “the music is quite sectional with elements of exotica and cinematic type layers, it's a good balance of grooves, tunes and weirdness”. No more is this “epic cinematic feel” heard more proudly than on short instrumental ‘Sonya’s Lament” - its innate, hauntological atmospheres befitting a Peter Strickland soundtrack, or the classics of Lex Baxter, the so-called ‘Founder of Exotica’ himself. On the other hand, providing a greasier undercurrent to all these bucolic sounds is a leaning towards a more “direct” lyricism referencing more “external concerns. Laying down the first tracks for the album in the wintry gloom of pre-lockdown 2020, and drawing inspiration from time spent in Berlin, Through Other Reflections returns to some of the post-apocalyptic futurism explored in 2014’s Entropicalia - a loose concept album inspired by J.G Ballard’s The Drowned World. “The songs explore a disillusionment with the way things are going particularly after 40 years of neoliberalism”, says Cann, “They follow that folk-song tradition of wanting to escape to an imagined time, but here it’s more urban than pastoral. The first couple of ideas I came up with when doing some music in Berlin and had some time to wander aimlessly. And think the atmosphere seeped in, particularly on The City Was and Already Over. He continues, “One aspect of the title, ‘Through Other Reflections’ is about synthesis and layers of influence. How things can be filtered through other things and change the perspective. This is something you get in cities as well.” Though, as with everything The Soundcarriers make, “It can mean anything. It also just sounds kind of cool.”

Ten bad boy digi riddims from the myspace era by Copenhagen’s Maffi crew, dubbed out into 3D space by disrupt in 2024. Raw, minimalist CyberDancehall at its best, nostalgic and oddly futuristic at the same time, this album is quickly becoming RoboCop’s favorite playlist when going to work.
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Maffi Promotions a.k.a. Maffi Boys come straight outta 1773 Kbh V, Copenhagen, Denmark. Originally founded in 1990 by the two homeboys, lazy body Moog and Junior the Rat, Maffi Promotions have been a steady producer of simple digital riddims for years. Hanging out in the streets of Hummel City Junior & Moog used to entertain their friends with the primitve riddims of the Maffi sound. Not knowing that they would do the exact same thing fifteen years later, they continued to believe that one day they would move up the ladder, break out of the underground and reach for the stars.

Now, after finally adopting a little sense of realism, the two homeboys have realised that stardom is nothing compared to spamming people on myspace. So the two stoners decided to get a couple of friends together and turn up the bass online. Together with their sound crew FIREHOUSE, Maffi deal nuff weed and gyals!

Maffi Boys are very dedicated to the art of playing Sensible World of Soccer, rolling weed joints with Manitou tobacco and keeping it real in a Vesterbro-style. So watch out! And don’t test! We’ll be putting up new riddims on a weekly basis. We have nuff things brewing – including a delicious chicken!
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Growing up in the streets of Hummel City, Vesterbro, MOOG learned the pleasures of sleeping late, playing Sensible World Of Soccer and picking up hot gyals at an early age. He has spent most of his life trying to master these crucial skills. Taking a break from the dog race, Moog is currently focused on reaching a higher understanding of reggae-science and weedology.

JUNIOR experienced the necessity of rolling well-made spliffs at an early age. Incorporating the aestethic heritage of Scandinavian design, he has spent most of his life perfectionizing this old and traditional art form. Junior is currently taking his ph.d. in digital reggae by buying crates of 80’s 7″ and selecting for his sound system Firehouse.

Formed in Liverpool in 1985, the Revolutionary Army of the Infant Jesus is a unique experimental ensemble whose work goes beyond music. For over thirty-five years the band’s cult following has grown. Their mesmerising recorded material is influenced by diverse cultural perspectives and stimulates a deeply personal and subjective awakening. Ethereal vocals, ambient compositions, chants, acoustic instrumentation and field recordings generate beautiful and emotionally intense soundscapes. ‘The Dream We Carry’ is the band’s fifth album and perhaps their most coherent body of work to date. It captures echoes and fragile remnants of the lived experience. The emotional traces that affect us. The joys and sorrows we hold. The dreams that we carry. Founder member Leslie Hampson said: “The RAIJ is a project in pursuit of beauty; we have tried to jettison anything that doesn’t address that. We’ve been active for a long time and this album represents another phase in our work. We’re not trying to reinvent ourselves or be something we’re not. We’ve never done that. We only ever try to be more of ourselves.”

Formed in Liverpool in 1985, the Revolutionary Army of the Infant Jesus is a unique experimental ensemble whose work goes beyond music. For over thirty-five years the band’s cult following has grown. Their mesmerising recorded material is influenced by diverse cultural perspectives and stimulates a deeply personal and subjective awakening. Ethereal vocals, ambient compositions, chants, acoustic instrumentation and field recordings generate beautiful and emotionally intense soundscapes. ‘The Dream We Carry’ is the band’s fifth album and perhaps their most coherent body of work to date. It captures echoes and fragile remnants of the lived experience. The emotional traces that affect us. The joys and sorrows we hold. The dreams that we carry. Founder member Leslie Hampson said: “The RAIJ is a project in pursuit of beauty; we have tried to jettison anything that doesn’t address that. We’ve been active for a long time and this album represents another phase in our work. We’re not trying to reinvent ourselves or be something we’re not. We’ve never done that. We only ever try to be more of ourselves.”

January 2023, Dorset. Snow is piled at the door, icy roads are closed, and Emily Cross is in a coffin. Not a setting typical for a rebirth. But for Loma, this is where they bring their band back from the brink. "It's like a demon enters the room, whenever we get together", writer, singer and instrumentalist Cross says of the struggle to bring new Loma music into the world. Following the release of their 2020 second album Don't Shy Away, Loma's three members were cast around the globe and the band-not for the first time-entered a deep sleep. Multi-instrumentalist and recording engineer Dan Duszynski remained in his studio in Don't Shy Away's central Texas heart, but Cross, a UK citizen, moved to Dorset, and writer and instrumentalist Jonathan Meiburg left the US for Germany to research a book. In the pandemic years, even being in the same room was impossible, and attempts to start a new record faltered. The following winter, in an attempt to salvage the record and the band, Cross suggested they regroup in the UK, in the tiny stone house-once a coffin-maker's workshop-where she works as an end-of-life doula. With minimal recording gear and few instruments, Loma turned two whitewashed rooms into a makeshift studio, using a padded coffin as a vocal booth. It was a turning point. They scrapped much of what they'd made, letting a new place set a new course. The one-lane roads, hedgerows and dark skies of Dorset gave the new songs an ineffable but unmistakable Englishness. The band used the ruin of a 12th-century chapel as a reverb chamber-surprising hillwalkers who peeked in to find them singing to no one-and the sounds of Cross's chilly workshop wormed their way into the recording: a leaky pipe, a drummer's brushes on a metal lampshade, the voices left on an ancient answering machine. What emerged was How Will I Live Without A Body?: a gorgeous, unique, and oddly comforting album about partnership, loss, regeneration, and fighting the feeling that we're all in this alone. Many of its songs have a feeling of restless motion; faceless characters drift through meetings and partings, tangling together and slipping away. "I Swallowed A Stone" is like a nightmare with a happy ending; "How It Starts" and "Broken Doorbell" reflect on the challenge (and necessity) of wrestling with agoraphobia. Though the record nods to the trio's separate lives- a German percussion ensemble, a pair of Texan owls, and the surf at Chesil Beach make guest appearances-the core of Loma's sound remains intact: earthy, organic and deeply human, anchored by Cross's cool, clear voice. Loma's previous album, Don't Shy Away, was galvanized by the unexpected encouragement and contributions of Brian Eno. This time, they found inspiration in another hero, Laurie Anderson, who offered a chance to work with an AI trained on her entire body of work. Meiburg sent her a photo from his book-in-progress about the once and future life of Antarctica; Anderson's AI responded with two haunting poems. "We used parts of them in a few songs," he says. "And then Dan noticed that one of its lines, 'How will I live without a body?' would be a perfect name for the album, since we nearly lost sight of each other in the recording process." In the end, Loma's efforts to reconnect with one another are the album's central focus: what do you owe a shared past, when everyone and everything has changed? "Making this record tested us all," says Duszynski. "I think that feeling was alchemized through the music." Alchemized, because How Will I Live Without A Body? is by no means a stressed-out record: an undercurrent of deep calm runs through it. But maybe 'relaxed' isn't the right word. It's more like a feeling of relief, of making it through a tough journey together.

DJ Support from Danny Howard, Annie Mac, Mistajam, Pete Tong, Charlie Hedges, Kraak & Smaak, Maxinne, Todd Terry, Alex Preston, Full Intention, GW Harrison, DJ Rae, Rudimental, Alaia & Gallo, Illyus & Barrientos, Johan S, David Penn, Sam Divine, Riva Starr, Claptone, Nice7, Dario D’Attis, Mousse T, S-Man, Huxley, KC Lights, Friend Within, Dombresky, Gorgon City, Chris Lake, Format:B, Pirupa, TCTS, Alan Fitzpatrick, Low Steppa, Mat.Joe, Raumakustik, Eskuche

Next up on our new Toolroom Trax vinyl series, we kick things off with a fresh new banger from Italian talent Nausica who with another deep club cut 'Se Pone Loca'. Featuring rolling percussion, a hooky lead vocal with expertly placed chops, 'Se Pone Loca' is looking to lay carnage on the dancefloor. Nausica's mastered her infectious minimal, percussive sound that has seen the likes of AAA talent support her music from John Summit, to Jamie Jones, MK to Solardo proving Nausica's a name many acts are reaching for in their sets! D.Ramirez returns to Toolroom Trax with his highly anticipated remake of Bodyrox's anthemic 'Yeah Yeah'. Firmly rooted within Toolroom's foundations, releasing genre defining dance music for nearly two decades with hits such as 'Downpipe' in collaboration with label boss Mark Knight and UK pioneers Underworld, 'Colombian Soul' and many more. D.Ramirez doubles up as not only a genius in the studio, but as one of the talented Toolroom Academy tutors, teaching a new generation of producer's fundamental skills in dance music production. Remaking the Bodyrox Electro House classic 'Yeah Yeah'; an era defining masterpiece with an unforgettable synth line, D.Ramirez gives us an essential update for today's dancefloors. Label favourites, Sllash & Doppe return to Trax next with their unique style of uplifting, feel good house music. Their music is regularly found in the sets of artists like Fatboy Slim, Solomun, Bedouin, Blond:ish, Martin Solveig, Roger Sanchez and more, and the playful cousins are now conquering the world, from deck to deck, with an energetic and exuberant style that has won them favour on the dancefloors.

Closing out the sampler is Saison with their signature house sound. The London based duo have been solidly in the game for the best part of a decade perfecting their unparalleled sound of raw, feel-good house music at it's very best. With numerous releases on revered labels including Defected, Nervous, Big Love and of course their own imprint, No Fuss.

Countless radio plays on Radio 1 from Danny Howard, Sarah Storie, Pete Tong Other notable radio plays – Kiss FM, Toolroom Radio, Sirius XM, Data Transmission Radio, Radio 1 Dance Anthems, Radio 1 Party Anthems, Rinse FM, Select Radio, Tomorrowland Radio

"Remembering is not the opposite of forgetting," Casey MQ sings at the start of Later that day, the day before, or the day before that, his new LP and Ghostly International debut. It's a phrase fittingly misremembered from something the LA-based, Canadian-born composer came upon as he spiraled into unconscious and subconscious-led writing sessions at the piano. Casey's known for his 2020 breakthrough release babycasey, which gave voice to songs seen through the lens of childhood, various film score work and collaborations with artists such as Oklou (who returns here), Eartheater, and Vagabon. His gifts as a producer and songwriter are rooted in textural world-building and the excavation of personal truth. With Later that day... he questions what is true entirely, understanding our mind's tendency to bend and project onto pictures of the past. Across vivid, baroque pop balladry, Casey MQ reorients his recording project and point of view under the notion that memories are malleable. All the joy, pain, love, and loss housed within remembrance is open to interpretation and deconstruction, which he does deftly, with curiosity and complete artistic freedom. "It's a memory album," Casey puts it simply, winding up for the deeper unpacking, "and it might be a breakup album, too_there are more questions than answers." Engaging his dreams and sitting with sheet music at his newly acquired piano, he looked to new and old inspirations including the works of Claude Debussy, Joni Mitchell, and Joe Hisaishi's beloved Studio Ghibli film scores. "Since I was young, I always wanted to write a piano album." babycasey's studied electronic sound isn't wholly abandoned on Later that day... instead, it comes through like an atmosphere, giving Casey's more spacious, minimal arrangements a distinct luster and sheen. The textures and tones shift from song to song as if mirroring the way our minds constantly recontextualize, remember, and forget. Cathartic opener "Grey Gardens" _ its title derived from a dream abstractly related to the Toronto restaurant, but not the 1975 film, which he cites as another coincidental false memory _ presents the record's plaintive, haunted feeling. "Even if not reading into lyrics, sonically I wanted it to feel like you're being pulled into a universe. Not fantasy or otherworldly per se, something more tangible, of the body and mind," Casey says. "Hearing it back, I realized this track was the key to unlocking it." His tender falsetto hovers above ambient washes and echoed keys, each word falling carefully in the crevices. "Asleep At The Wheel" unfolds on arpeggiated synth before a burst of symphonic color; the synth returns inverted to harmonize with the outro, "I love a car crash, I love a story, I love a memory, I swear it's real..." Casey leans into digital imagination on the warm, introspective "Me I Think I Found It." Subdued, stuttered percussion underscores the singer as he cycles through pixelated imagery _ screenshots, smiles, streetlights _ searching for higher meaning through love. Built on ascendent chord distortions, "Dying Til I'm Born" gives the record one of its boldest pulses of emotion. The back half stretches out; "Is This Only Water" is sparse and foggy, "Baby Voice" is intimate and desperate for something to remain. "Words For Love" grooves on guitar, and "Tennisman9" aches in heartbreak. French musician Marylou Mayniel, aka Oklou, appears as the collection's only guest for the closing duet, "The Make Believe," a bright and buoyant send-off that gives Later that day... both a sense of resolve and cyclical-motion. "We are young, under the sun," they sing together, a parting image brimming with lightness.

"Remembering is not the opposite of forgetting," Casey MQ sings at the start of Later that day, the day before, or the day before that, his new LP and Ghostly International debut. It's a phrase fittingly misremembered from something the LA-based, Canadian-born composer came upon as he spiraled into unconscious and subconscious-led writing sessions at the piano. Casey's known for his 2020 breakthrough release babycasey, which gave voice to songs seen through the lens of childhood, various film score work and collaborations with artists such as Oklou (who returns here), Eartheater, and Vagabon. His gifts as a producer and songwriter are rooted in textural world-building and the excavation of personal truth. With Later that day... he questions what is true entirely, understanding our mind's tendency to bend and project onto pictures of the past. Across vivid, baroque pop balladry, Casey MQ reorients his recording project and point of view under the notion that memories are malleable. All the joy, pain, love, and loss housed within remembrance is open to interpretation and deconstruction, which he does deftly, with curiosity and complete artistic freedom. "It's a memory album," Casey puts it simply, winding up for the deeper unpacking, "and it might be a breakup album, too_there are more questions than answers." Engaging his dreams and sitting with sheet music at his newly acquired piano, he looked to new and old inspirations including the works of Claude Debussy, Joni Mitchell, and Joe Hisaishi's beloved Studio Ghibli film scores. "Since I was young, I always wanted to write a piano album." babycasey's studied electronic sound isn't wholly abandoned on Later that day... instead, it comes through like an atmosphere, giving Casey's more spacious, minimal arrangements a distinct luster and sheen. The textures and tones shift from song to song as if mirroring the way our minds constantly recontextualize, remember, and forget. Cathartic opener "Grey Gardens" _ its title derived from a dream abstractly related to the Toronto restaurant, but not the 1975 film, which he cites as another coincidental false memory _ presents the record's plaintive, haunted feeling. "Even if not reading into lyrics, sonically I wanted it to feel like you're being pulled into a universe. Not fantasy or otherworldly per se, something more tangible, of the body and mind," Casey says. "Hearing it back, I realized this track was the key to unlocking it." His tender falsetto hovers above ambient washes and echoed keys, each word falling carefully in the crevices. "Asleep At The Wheel" unfolds on arpeggiated synth before a burst of symphonic color; the synth returns inverted to harmonize with the outro, "I love a car crash, I love a story, I love a memory, I swear it's real..." Casey leans into digital imagination on the warm, introspective "Me I Think I Found It." Subdued, stuttered percussion underscores the singer as he cycles through pixelated imagery _ screenshots, smiles, streetlights _ searching for higher meaning through love. Built on ascendent chord distortions, "Dying Til I'm Born" gives the record one of its boldest pulses of emotion. The back half stretches out; "Is This Only Water" is sparse and foggy, "Baby Voice" is intimate and desperate for something to remain. "Words For Love" grooves on guitar, and "Tennisman9" aches in heartbreak. French musician Marylou Mayniel, aka Oklou, appears as the collection's only guest for the closing duet, "The Make Believe," a bright and buoyant send-off that gives Later that day... both a sense of resolve and cyclical-motion. "We are young, under the sun," they sing together, a parting image brimming with lightness.

"Deep Dancefloor Jams of African Disco, Funk, Boogie, Reggae & Proto Electro Music 1977-1986reggWhen a passionate DJ and crate digger intuitively selects music for a DJ compilation, without artistic compromise and without the burden of trends, AfroMagic vol.1 emerges from the depths of his soul. Herewith we present the new favorite phonomancer’s tool for all the DJs who experience the dance floor as a sanctuary and a source of freedom and love.

The most fundamental thing that defines African music is that it was created for dancing. In African dance, there is often no clear distinction between ritual celebration and social recreational entertainment – one can seemlessly merge with the other. Because dance and rhythm have more power than gesture and more richness than words, and because they express the deepest experiences of human beings, dance is in itself a complete and self-sufficient language. It is truly an expression of life with all of its emotions – joy, love, sadness and hope – without which there is no African music and dance. For the African people, dance and music are integral parts of the body and soul, thus depicting the expression of life, current emotional states, visions or dreams. Through hypnotic repetitive music and dance, people communicate with each other and with the souls of the dead, the animals, the plants, the stars, the Gods… They free the body and the spirit through ecstatic states, reaching a healing sense of freedom, happiness, and satisfaction.

Throughout history, this transcendental perception of rhythm and dance originating from Africa, influenced popular music worldwide, thus creating new living and breathing forms of musical genres – freeing them from their industrial mold. Funk, disco, soul, boogie, reggae, dancefloor jazz etc., developed in parallel all over the world. It is foolish to perpetually discuss where they originated from and who were the creators of all these fiery dance floor genres – being obvious that they directly or indirectly originate from the African continent and its people who were as well, over the centuries, influenced by disturbing socio-cultural factors of colonialism. However, no one can enslave the soul. The seeds of free and uninhibited dance and rhythm, true to their original form, initially first sprouted onto the USA’s fertile fields of clubbing and popular music while later evolving in other parts of the world.

The disco funk club culture manifested itself as a phenomenal explosion of artists and grooves in the second half of the 70s in the USA. Shortly it spread around the world continually reigning over charts in its various forms – to this day. Clubs emerged where the DJ is an almighty shaman and the dancers are a tribe united under one roof. This urban ritual had and still has a single goal: togetherness, freedom, and love. Clubs have evolved into temples where we free ourselves from the burden of a consumerist lifestyle and suppressed emotions – a place where we receive love and give love – to be who we really are.

Disco funk clubbing was such an influential global phenomenon that its influence can be observed in various other genres from the disco funk era i.e. progressive rock, which mutated by layering complex rock arrangements with a disco funk groove resulting in hybrids, highly sought by today’s diggers, producers and collectors. The profit-hungry music industry of the 80s very quickly commercialized the original disco funk sound by amputating of its original Afro groove to be able to easily ‘sell’ it globally. So, the original disco funk groove became underground again, and it has remained so until this day. Today, for a DJ to unearth that ravishing groove that will lead the dancers to the stars, he must dig passionately like a true musical archaeologist in search of that groove that picks you up after just a few initial beats. That groove which forces the atoms in your body to vibrate, that groove which unites the body and releases the burden.

The AfroMagic compilation series is created as a tool for real DJs who stick to the aesthetics and essence of clubbing.

This continuation of the Afromagic compilation by DJ Borovich was created in a private jam session which served as an escape route from intense and complex love problems.

Unconsciously driven by intuition and emotion and following a live mix tape framework where many tunes are arranged instantaneously, Borovich narrates his story with a strong rhythm that cuts loose even the most blocked off energy nodes and restores happiness to the spirit and the body.

The musical experience of the groove is completed by the lyrics of the songs, which symbolically give DJ Borovich universal answers to his questions arising from questioning the boundaries, nuances and other forms of love.

When considering that Borovich’s selection was created to facilitate an escape from the burdens of reality through rhythm and dance, we can be sure that Afromagic Vol. 2 will have a 100% uplifting, energized and spaced-out effect on the listeners.

The intro to A1, “Feeling Happy” by the Apostles, introduces us to an experienced and slow, cool and irregularly tight groove containing a confidently sung chorus that instantly gives a sense of freedom and hints at the remainder of Afromagic Vol. 2: “I’m gonna feel happy, ´cause I know I’m gonna be myself.” After the anthemic song mantra of the Apostles, Aigbe Lebarty uncompromisingly continues with a dirty disco rhythm. Acidified by accented synths that elevate it to shamanic levels and held together by a female tribal choir, we embark on an uncompromising ritual disco journey. Without a moment to take a breather the prog funk band Mighty Flames and their Road Man launch a highly vicious and raw, thick funk groove spiced with acid synths and dirty RnR breaks, raising the bar for the A side. Jimi Hendrix himself would surely praise it given the ultimate freedom and virtuosity in the solo sections. With the last tune on A side DJ Borovich decides to burn the floor with Geraldo Pino’s psychedelic, acid furious groove and lyrics which describe this HEAVY part of love problems: “The way she walk, the way she talk, the way she does a funky dances, she is really really heavy – that woman”.

While the A side represents a compact intoxicating afro groove machine that separates us from reality and lifts us up to the stars in over 23 minutes, the B side is a treasure trove of proto sub-genres gems. This selection represents the mission of the Afromagic: to find singular events in African recorded discography of popular music from the 70s and 80s that give evidence to the birth of new modern genres on the Dark Continent even before they emerged in the U.S.A. or Europe. The beginnings of electronic music influenced genres are represented back to back with 80s synth jazzy pop, all painted in African colours.

The B side opens big with Jake Sollo and a huge reggae blues number singing about the humiliation of a man – goosebumps guaranteed! “You think I’m nobody that’s why, you don’t know the way for me, I’m somebody I know, I found myself at last”. Adolf Ahanotu then enters the scene with a hard sliding tackle at B2 and an exotic rare disco funk dancefloor napalm. A ‘Sensation’ that would ignite even the coldest of introverts. While we approach the end of the compilation the narrative revolves again and takes a different turn. No less and no more than to the proto-electro that Baad John Cross serves us in “Give Me Some Lovin´”. The fat and repetitive broken electro synth groove, championing many early 90s electro tracks, is presented here without hesitation and with constant tension accompanied by a mantric chorus “Gimme some, gimme some, gimme some looooovin’, EVERBODY!!!”. Finally, we’re guided to the end of Afromagic Vol. 2 by Eji Oyevole’s 80s synth pop style presented in an authentic afro manner, giving us a glimpse at yet another released Afromagic edition, as well as giving an answer to DJ Borovich’s love problems. A smoothly broken electronic rhythm resembling electrified highlife sounds, carried on the wings of a virtuoso dreamy saxophone on top of which Eji presents the most intimate parts of himself. Finalizing the track with a symbolic chorus, on the surface referring to the dancefloor and simply having fun, but in actuality referring to the skill and happiness of living: “I´m a dancer, I can dance”. So, get up and dance among the stars with DJ Borovich and Afromagic.

The word Asapani is part of the artistic vocabulary of Paolo "Batà" Bianconcini, percussionist of the La Scimmia Records collective, founding member of the Circolo Psiconautico and part of the Neapolitan bands Parbleu, Funkin' Machine and Nu Genea. This ancient-sounding term is a creation of the artist, who defines it as a word of nature, but also the (italian) acronym of Listen to the Silence, Listen to the Peace, Listen to the Inner Nothingness. More than a simple term, an exhortation.

The music contained in Asapani was written and produced between 2022 and part of 2023 by Paolo “Batà” Bianconcini who together with the Circolo Psiconautico (Paolo Petrella on bass and synth, Pietro Santangelo on wind instruments and Roberto Porzio on synths) and takes shape from observation of time and the infinite possibility we have of blocking its fragments and making them our own and then sharing them in another form. The intent is to transport the listener outside of himself, through sound vibrations, during the span of four long tracks that melt into each other feeling like one singular body of work.

This album spans several genres, but at the same time is unique in its style. Spiritual jazz blended with primitive settings, achieving a sensation of sonic primitivism. The listener is projected into a circle of musicians who, sitting around a fireplace, are transported towards infinity by their internal vibrations.The research starts from the four elements of nature (water, fire, earth and air) and thus uniting and fusing with each other they make us question our existence, our depths.
As Batà himself explains, starting from the four fundamental elements in order to keep the search for the fifth element constant.

A location, Melizzano, on the western slopes of Monte Taburno, where the Batahaus stands, the physical and spiritual home of Batà, a magical place in which the Circolo Psiconautico meets, with the aim of navigating the waves of the unconscious and composing music which, through contamination and experimentation, captures the moods of the moment and projects images and colours from the inside out that speak to everyone. Like a real club, the Psiconauti come together to give each other the chance to explore together, create suggestions and get excited among friends.

The music Charles Mingus and his group recorded during his landmark 1960 sessions for Candid Records produced three of the most revered jazz albums of the era. INCARNATIONS is a new masterpiece thoughtfully assembled from rare and unreleased material from those sessions that stands proudly in the Mingus canon of masterworks. All but one of the tracks here are from the November 11th, 1960 sessions Mingus and producer Nate Hentoff put together. The date was split into two halves: one a pure Mingus-led date, featuring a six-piece band that expanded into an octet for two additional tunes, and another, a partial reunion of a collective that had assembled in opposition against George Wein’s Newport Jazz Festival that past July. (That collective, calling themselves The Jazz Artist Guild, would release the album Newport Rebels, on Candid in 1961.) Of special note here is the one track recorded during the Mingus October 20th 1960 sessions. It is a previously unreleased track titled “All The Things You Are (All.)” Found on a tape that contained material from both of these fall 1960 dates, the piece has its roots in an Art Tatum rendition of “All the Things You Are,” which Mingus had recorded before in various settings. Featuring Booker Ervin, Eric Dolphy, Charles McPherson, Ted Curson Lonnie Hillyer, Roy Eldridge, Jimmy Knepper, Britt Woodman, Tommy Flanagan, Paul Bley, Dannie Richmond and Jo Jones. With audio restored and remastered by Bernie Grundman, and liner notes by Pitchfork and New York Times contributor Hank Shteamer, this album is a must have for any Mingus fan.

The Body & Dis Fig are a natural pair. Each has pioneered instantly recognizable worlds of sound all their own that defy any traditional categorizations or boundaries. The Body, Lee Buford and Chip King, continually challenge any conventional conception of metal, collaborating with myriad artists and from the folk-leanings of their work with BIG|BRAVE to their groundbreaking work with the Assembly of Light Choir to the intensity of their collaborations with OAA or Thou. Dis Fig, aka Felicia Chen, pushes electronic music into dark extremes, from warped DJ sets to avant production, from being a member of Tianzhuo Chen’s performance-art series TRANCE to being the vocalist with The Bug. The Body and Dis Fig find kinship in reimagining what it means to make “heavy music”. Their debut Orchards of a Futile Heaven is the perfect synthesis of two forces, twisting melodicism and intoxicating rhythms, layering a dense miasma of distortion with intense beats and a soaring voice clawing its way towards absolution.

Orchards of a Futile Heaven’s walls of sputtering texture and tectonic booms are soaked in the reverence and melancholy of sacred spaces brought to life by palpable intensity by Chen’s voice. Crafted during a time of personal fragility, the album’s devastating force lies beyond any of the expected noise and abrasive textures typically associated with both The Body & Dis Fig. Suffused with a raw vulnerability and a longing for catharsis, Chen’s voice searches for escape in the midst of oppressive atmospheres as if determined to find relief from guilt. “Eternal Hours” patiently unfurls waves of surprising sounds, whispered undulations that are punctuated by sudden crashes, all beneath Chen’s haunting harmonies. “Dissent, Shame” evokes grief and shame with a minimalist drone dirge that gradually builds to an enchanting choral passage. King’s guitar on “Holy Lance” matches the uncanny drone of Chen’s accordion in an all-consuming blast, Chen’s voice transforming the moment from anguish to defiance and empowerment. The album’s arc finishes with “Coils of Kaa” acting as a kind of propulsive exorcism, breaking through a suffocating air before the funeral procession of “Back to the Water” lays the album to rest.

While sampling has long been essential to each, The Body & Dis Fig deftly meld their differing approaches to sampling and creating extreme sounds until the boundaries are entirely blurred. The two found kinship in their desire to find new avenues to make heavy music that looked beyond tropes of metal and electronic music by merging the two. “I always wanted the heavier stuff but I also didn’t really like heavier guitar music,” says Buford. “None of it really felt quite heavy enough to me. A human can’t be as heavy as a machine.” Chen counters, “I love the balance. You could never connect to just a machine as well as you could a human. Which is why the combination is so potent for me. I don’t want to hide. I think nothing connects you more empathetically than another human's voice.”

Orchards of a Futile Heaven affirms The Body & Dis Fig as skilled sound sculptors who have an exceptional ability to make deeply affecting music, bracing as it is touching, harrowing as it is awe-inspiring. Together, the two have harnessed their expansive artistry to make music that is profoundly emotional, and staggering in its beauty.

Though often lumped in with New Orleans sludge bands like Eyehategod and Crowbar, Thou shares a more spiritual kinship with '90s proto-grunge bands like Nirvana, Alice in Chains, and Soundgarden (all of whom they've covered extensively, both in the studio and onstage). The band's aesthetic and political impulses reflect the obscure '90s DIY hardcore punk found on labels like Ebullition, Vermiform, and Crimethinc. From 2004 through 2016, the band has released four full-length albums, six EPs (some bordering on full lengths), two collaboration records with The Body, and enough material spread out over splits to make up another four or five LPs.

Sacred Bones Records is proud to present the new album, Magus, Thou's first full-length since 2014's Heathen. In the months leading into the new album, Thou will be releasing three drastically different EPs: The House Primordial on Raw Sugar, Inconsolable on Community Records, and Rhea Sylvia on Deathwish, Inc. Each record will focus on a particular sound—noisy drone, quiet acoustic, and melodic grunge—all of which is incorporated into the new LP, subsumed in the band's more standard doom metal.

While sonically, Magus may be a continuation of Heathen, thematically it stands as a stark rebuttal, a journey beyond the principles of pleasure and pain. It is more the culmination of these distinct EPs, which all orbit some internal black hole. FFO alienation, absurdity, boredom, futility, decay, the tyranny of history, the vulgarities of change, awareness as agony, reason as disease.

EP compilation of essential UK house cuts recorded between 1987 - 1990. TIP!


Before British house and techno found its’ distinctive groove at the turn of the 1990s, one act led the way: Bang The Party, a trio who emerged from London’s vibrant underground party scene in the mid 1980s and proved, beyond any doubt, that UK producers could make music every bit as magical as the pioneering productions put forward by their counterparts in Chicago, Detroit and New York.

By the time long-running DJs and party promoters Kid Batchelor and Leslie Lawrence joined forces with trained engineer Keith Franklin at legendary North-West London reggae studio Addis Ababa in 1987, they’d spent years as DIY dance music activists in Britain’s capital city. They channelled these experiences and their love of imported house and techno sounds into a new project, Bang The Party, in the process becoming the first British act to appear on Transmat, a reflection of the quality and authenticity of their music.

The latest Rush Hour Reissue Series release offers a snapshot of some of the numerous gems nestled in the Bang The Party catalogue, delivering a much-deserved celebration of one of Britain’s most significant early acid house collectives. It features four fully remastered cuts recorded and released between 1987 and 1990 – on-point and far-sighted club workouts that sound as fresh and timeless now as they did when Britain was sweltering under its infamous ‘second summer of love’.

Fittingly, the EP begins with ‘I Feel Good All Over’, the group’s ground-breaking debut single. Dedicated to their home city and one of the earliest UK interpretations of house music, the track exists in the grey area between Chicago house and New York ‘garage house’ – all jaunty organ stabs, jacking Windy City beats, restless bass and soulful vocalizations. ‘Jacques Theme’, which follows, originally nestled on the B-side of that single release. An early, acid-flecked expression of hip-house with a British twist, breakdance-friendly bongo patterns and a dose of Larry Heard-inspired deep house dreaminess, the track remains an under-appreciated classic whose rap verses reflect the popularity of hip-hop in London at the time.

1988’s ‘Release Your Body’, Bang The Party’s most celebrated early release, was reissued in the United States by Transmat, reflecting the strong working relationship between Derrick May and Kool Kat Records’ Neil Rushton. A hypnotising affair propelled forwards by sweat-soaked drum machine beats, jacking fills and an addictive bassline, the track offers another near perfect distillation of the band’s Black American musical influences while delivering something genuinely new and fresh.

Rounding off the EP is a choice cut from Bang The Party’s sought after 1990 album Back To Prison. Doused in the star-lit synth sounds of the Motor City with jaunty organ stabs inspired by the kind of New Jersey jams championed at East Orange institution Club Zanzibar, ‘Let It Rip’ is a superb slice of deep house soul featuring a lead vocal every bit as emotive as anything laid down by Robert Owens. Like the rest of Bang The Party’s output, it has stood the time better than anything laid down by their London contemporaries.

David Byrne is a modern renaissance man - and that’s not just a cliché. From the heady days as co-founder of the celebrated art new-wave group Talking Heads (1976-88) through his own constantly evolving and innovative solo music career, he has pursued his muse on many different artistic fronts. He’s been the driving force behind a body of work that has been both intellectually daring and commercially successful...and he shows no signs of slowing down decades later. This show, captured on November 28, 2001, came on the heels of his hit single, “Like Humans Do” and the release of the album Look Into The Eyeball, which was another typically eclectic musical stew reflecting a variety of styles and influences, from Philly soul to a D.C. Go-Go inspired groove and his first-ever Spanish composition, “Desconocido Soy.” Critics at the time called it his best work in years, and his performance on the Austin City Limits stage shows why. Joined by Austin’s own eclectic tango ensemble Tosca, Byrne takes us down many different musical roads in his ACL debut. Of course, besides the brilliant songwriter and performer that he is, he’s also an accomplished performance artist, photographer, web journalist, film writer / director, composer of motion picture soundtracks, and founder of his own world music label, Luaka Bop Records. He also has a collection of Grammys, Oscars and Golden Globes on his mantel. His music may be complex and poetic, but he makes no bones about his ultimate intent: “I want to move people to dance and cry at the same time. - Terry Lickona (Producer Austin City Limits)

Malian and French pair Siraba unveil their much-anticipated self-titled debut LP on Damian Lazarus’ Secret Teachings label, a 10-track odyssey fusing Mali’s rich musical traditions with cutting-edge electronic music.

Malian hunter Boubacar Samake and Damien Vandesande, one half of the French electronic band dOP, have won plenty of plaudits for the early singles taken from their debut album as duo Siraba. Those singles, spanning across the summer months, have found the pair bring the traditional sound of the Wassoulou - a river valley of West Africa - to the electronic world after 20 years of friendship. The music comes with an important underlying message of love and respect and results in spellbinding tracks that move heart, body and soul, finding a perfect home on Secret Teachings - a left-of-centre alternative label to Lazarus’ celebrated and often more club- focused Crosstown Rebels. With the arrival of the full album, the pair exhibit and showcase the emotional breadth and depth of their music, with detailed explorations of organic textures and native sounds merged with future-focused ideas and concepts.

The title track opens with an atmospheric mix of spoken words and spine-tingling chords that bring rich Afro flavours, while ‘Dounoiia’ is a languid groove made from hand drums and pixelated synth leads that cast a fine spell. The slow-blooming ‘Bani’ brings rich Malian blues and melancholic horns, while ‘Komafly’ is a rich mix of acoustic strings and broken beats that transports you to a hot and dusty landscape. A vital component of the sounds of the Wassoulou, the indigenous stringed instrument the Ngoni features again on the rousing ‘Nanse’ as spiritual vocals sung in Bambara rouse the soul.

‘Djandjo’ is another rich infusion of Malian culture with simmering electronics to make for something both ancient sounding yet futuristic, and the hypnotic ‘Ngana Fôlly’ with its rich bass is a song ‘dedicated to those who fight for the well-being of their families, for unity... a song for the people who also fight a great disease, between life and death’. The sublime ‘Toro’ is a wavy groove perfect for sundown - a deep and inviting sound rich in soulful vocals and dreamy melodies, while ‘Tolonawoulile’ is driven by the intense strumming of the Ngoni with busy hand claps and hurried drums and last of all ‘Fo Te Mokobana’ sinks into a heart-warming slow groove with sweeping strings and Malian percussion all overlaid with impassioned vocals.

A rich listening experience, Siraba’s debut album is an immersive journey and absorbing dive into the minds of two artists breaking new grounds while spotlighting native traditions and musical techniques spanning hundreds of years.

Repress!

In the mid-1970s, a force of nature swept across the continental United States, cutting across all strata of race and class, rooting in our minds, our homes, our culture. It wasn’t The Exorcist, Goodbye Yellow Brick Road, or even bell-bottoms, but instead a book called The Secret Life of Plants. The work of occultist/former OSS agent Peter Tompkins and former CIA agent/dowsing enthusiast Christopher Bird, the books shot up the bestseller charts and spread like kudzu across the landscape, becoming a phenomenon. Seemingly overnight, the indoor plant business was in full bloom and photosynthetic eukaryotes of every genus were hanging off walls, lording over bookshelves, and basking on sunny window ledges. The science behind Secret Life was specious: plants can hear our prayers, they’re lie detectors, they’re telepathic, able to predict natural disasters and receive signals from distant galaxies. But that didn’t stop millions from buying and nurturing their new plants.

Perhaps the craziest claim of the book was that plants also dug music. And whether you purchased a snake plant, asparagus fern, peace lily, or what have you from Mother Earth on Melrose Avenue in Los Angeles (or bought a Simmons mattress from Sears), you also took home Plantasia, an album recorded especially for them. Subtitled “warm earth music for plants…and the people that love them,” it was full of bucolic, charming, stoner-friendly, decidedly unscientific tunes enacted on the new-fangled device called the Moog. Plants date back from the dawn of time, but apparently they loved the Moog, never mind that the synthesizer had been on the market for just a few years. Most of all, the plants loved the ditties made by composer Mort Garson.

Few characters in early electronic music can be both fearless pioneers and cheesy trend-chasers, but Garson embraced both extremes, and has been unheralded as a result. When one writer rhetorically asked: “How was Garson’s music so ubiquitous while the man remained so under the radar?” the answer was simple. Well before Brian Eno did it, Garson was making discreet music, both the man and his music as inconspicuous as a Chlorophytumcomosum. Julliard-educated and active as a session player in the post-war era, Garson wrote lounge hits, scored plush arrangements for Doris Day, and garlanded weeping countrypolitan strings around Glen Campbell’s “By the Time I Get to Phoenix.” He could render the Beatles and Simon & Garfunkel alike into easy listening and also dreamed up his own ditties. “An idear” as Garson himself would drawl it out. “I live with it, I walk it, I sing it.”

But as his daughter Day Darmet recalls: “When my dad found the synthesizer, he realized he didn’t want to do pop music anymore.” Garson encountered Robert Moog and his new device at the Audio Engineering Society’s West Coast convention in 1967 and immediately began tinkering with the device. With the Moog, those idears could be transformed. “He constantly had a song he was humming,” Darmet says. “At the table he was constantly tapping.” Which is to say that Mort pulled his melodies out of thin air, just like any household plant would.

The Plantae kingdom grew to its height by 1976, from DC Comics’ mossy superhero Swamp Thing to Stevie Wonder’s own herbal meditation, Journey Through the Secret Life of Plants. Nefarious manifestations of human-plant interaction also abounded, be it the grotesque pods in Invasion of the Body Snatchers or the pothead paranoia of the US Government spraying Mexican marijuana fields with the herbicide paraquat (which led to the rise in homegrown pot by the 1980s). And then there’s the warm, leafy embrace of Plantasia itself.

“My mom had a lot of plants,” Darmet says. “She didn’t believe in organized religion, she believed the earth was the best thing in the whole world. Whatever created us was incredible.” And she also knew when her husband had a good song, shouting from another room when she heard him humming a good idear. Novel as it might seem, Plantasia is simply full of good tunes.

Garson may have given the album away to new plant and bed owners, but a decade later a new generation could hear his music in another surreptitious way. Millions of kids bought The Legend of Zelda for their Nintendo Entertainment System back in 1986 and one distinct 8-bit tune bears more than a passing resemblance to album highlight “Concerto for Philodendron and Pothos.” Garson was never properly credited for it, but he nevertheless subliminally slipped into a new generations’ head, helping kids and plants alike grow.

Hearing Plantasia in the 21st century, it seems less an ode to our photosynthesizing friends by Garson and more an homage to his wife, the one with the green thumb that made everything flower around him. “My dad would be totally pleased to know that people are really interested in this music that had no popularity at the time,” Darmet says of Plantasia’snew renaissance. “He would be fascinated by the fact that people are finally understanding and appreciating this part of his musical career that he got no admiration for back then.” Garson seems to be everywhere again, even if he’s not really noticed, just like a houseplant.

I Talk To Water, the fifth album for Kompakt by Danish producer Kölsch, is the artist’s most personal statement yet. While all the trademarks that make his music so popular and powerful are still present – lush, melodic techno; swooping, trance-like figures; sensuous, shivery texturology – I Talk To Water is also a deep and intimate rapprochement with family and history, a beautiful, finely detailed document of loss and memory, and a tracing of the long, unbroken thread of grief that runs through our lives once we’ve lost those we loved.

The emotional core of I Talk To Water, then, is a cache of recordings by Kölsch’s father, Patrick Reilly, who passed away in 2003 from brain cancer. With time rendered elastic by the pandemic and its associated lockdowns, its sudden, alienating shifts in everyday living, Kölsch found himself reflecting on his father’s passing and ongoing spiritual presence, thinking about how best to memorialise such a significant figure in his own life. Those recordings opened a gateway, of sorts, for Kölsch to move through – a way to bring past and present together and entwine them in a sensitive, poetic manner.

Kölsch’s father was a musician – “touring in the sixties and seventies, in the Middle East especially, he was doing the whole hippy trail, playing guitar, and wrote some songs over the years,” he recalls. “But all in all, he decided to focus on family rather than pursue a musical career.” Reilly kept playing and writing music over the years, though Kölsch hadn’t listened to the material for some time: “I’d never had the guts to listen to it, because I just felt too fragile listening to his voice. It’s such a tough thing to go through.”

During the pandemic, though, Kölsch listened through the fragmented body of work that his father had produced over the years. “I decided I’m gonna finally release my dad’s music twenty years after his passing,” he reflects. “This whole album is about the process of loss, and for me it’s been one of my main driving forces in my musical life, the whole emotional aspect of whatever I’ve done has been based in that feeling that he’s not there anymore.”

Recordings of Reilly appear on three songs across I Talk To Water. His guitars drift pensively across “Grape”, offering a lush thread of melody that Kölsch wraps with clicking, driftwood rhythms and droning, melancholy bass. “Tell Me” is a lovely three-minute art song, a sadly beautiful reflection, minimally adorned with gentle keys and a muted pulse. And on the closing “It Ends Where It Began”, Kölsch lets his father’s acoustic guitar take centre stage for a lament that’s unexpectedly folksy, a guitar soli dream, which Reilly originally recorded in 1996. “He actually recorded it for my first album that never came out,” Kölsch reveals, “and I had it sitting around forever. That is purely him.”

These three imagined collaborations between father and son are poised and delicate. But their relationship also marks the gorgeous music Kölsch has made across the rest of I Talk To Water, from the itchy yet lush “Pet Sound” (titled in tribute to one of Reilly’s favourite albums), the flickering synths and yearning vocal samples that slide through “Khenpo”, the ecstatic shuddering that marks “Only Get Better”, or “Implant”’s slow-motion pans and subtle reveals.

There’s also the title song, where Kölsch is joined by guest Perry Farrell (Jane’s Addiction, Porno For Pyros), singing a mantra for internal reflection: “I talk to water / Searching for myself / Looking for answers / Oceans of you.” Farrell’s appearance brings another timbre, another spirit to the album, aligning neatly with his recent interest in electronic music. “He was completely taken by this idea of talking to water,” Kölsch says, thinking about the ways we collectively lean towards the natural world as a comfort and a listener, a guide through mourning, a way to map out the terrain of the heart. This mapping is something that Kölsch has proven remarkably adept at through the years; dance music for both body and mind, but also both for the here-and-now, and for the hereafter.

“I Talk To Water”, das fünfte Album des dänischen Produzenten Kölsch für Kompakt, ist zweifellos das persönlichste Statement des Künstlers bislang. Während alle Markenzeichen, die seine Musik so beliebt und kraftvoll machen, immer noch präsent sind – üppige, melodische Techno-Tracks; schwebende, tranceartige Elemente; sinnliche, fiebrige Texturen – ist “I Talk To Water” auch eine tiefe und intime Annäherung an Familie und Geschichte. Es ist ein wunderschönes, fein ausgearbeitetes Dokument des Verlusts und der Erinnerung, und es verfolgt den langen, ungebrochenen Faden der Trauer, der durch unser Leben läuft, sobald wir diejenigen verloren haben, die wir liebten.

Der emotionale Kern von “I Talk To Water” besteht aus Aufnahmen von Kölschs Vater, Patrick Reilly, der 2003 an Hirnkrebs verstarb. Durch die Pandemie und ihre damit verbundenen Lockdowns, die plötzlichen, entfremdenden Veränderungen im Alltag, fand Kölsch sich in Gedanken an den Tod seines Vaters und seine fortwährende spirituelle Präsenz wieder. Er überlegte, wie er eine so bedeutende Figur in seinem eigenen Leben am besten verewigen könnte. Diese Aufnahmen öffneten ihm sozusagen ein Portal, um Vergangenheit und Gegenwart miteinander zu verbinden und sie auf sensible und poetische Weise zu verweben.

Kölschs Vater war Musiker – “er tourte in den sechziger und siebziger Jahren, vor allem im Nahen Osten, auf dem Hippie Trail, spielte Gitarre und schrieb im Laufe der Jahre einige Songs”, erinnert sich Kölsch. “Aber alles in allem entschied er sich, sich auf die Familie zu konzentrieren, anstatt eine musikalische Karriere zu verfolgen.” Reilly spielte und schrieb jedoch im Laufe der Jahre weiterhin Musik, obwohl Kölsch das Material lange Zeit nicht angehört hatte: “Ich hatte nie den Mut, es anzuhören, weil ich mich einfach zu zerbrechlich fühlte, seine Stimme anzuhören. Es ist so schwer, das durchzustehen.”

Während der Pandemie hörte sich Kölsch jedoch durch das fragmentierte Werk, das sein Vater im Laufe der Jahre produziert hatte. “Ich beschloss, die Musik meines Vaters zwanzig Jahre nach seinem Tod endlich zu veröffentlichen”, reflektiert er. “Dieses ganze Album handelt von dem Verlustprozess, welcher für mich generell eine der Hauptantriebskräfte in meinem musikalischen Leben ist. Der ganze emotionale Aspekt von dem, was ich getan habe, basierte auf dem Gefühl, dass er nicht mehr da ist.”

Auf “I Talk To Water” sind Aufnahmen von Reilly in drei Songs zu hören. Seine Gitarren ziehen nachdenklich durch “Grape”, bieten einen üppigen Melodiefaden, den Kölsch mit klickenden, treibenden Rhythmen und dröhnendem, melancholischem Bass umwickelt. “Tell Me” ist ein schönes dreiminütiges Kunstlied, eine traurig-schöne Reflexion, minimal geschmückt mit sanften Tasten und einem gedämpften Puls. Und auf dem Abschlusstrack “It Ends Where It Began” lässt Kölsch die akustische Gitarre seines Vaters im Mittelpunkt stehen, ein überraschend folkiger Klagegesang, den Reilly ursprünglich 1996 aufgenommen hatte. “Er hat es tatsächlich für mein erstes Album aufgenommen, das nie veröffentlicht wurde”, enthüllt Kölsch, “und ich hatte es ewig liegen.”

Diese drei erdachten Kollaborationen zwischen Vater und Sohn sind ausgewogen und zart. Aber ihre Beziehung prägt auch die wunderschöne Musik, die Kölsch im Rest von “I Talk To Water” geschaffen hat, angefangen bei dem nervösen, aber üppigen “Pet Sound” (benannt als Hommage an eines von Reillys Lieblingsalben), den flimmernden Synthesizern und sehnsüchtigen Vocal-Samples in “Khenpo”, den ekstatischen Erschütterungen in “Only Get Better” oder den langsamen Schwenks und subtilen Enthüllungen in “Implant”.

Es gibt auch den Titelsong, in dem Kölsch von Gast Perry Farrell (Jane’s Addiction, Porno For Pyros) begleitet wird, der ein Mantra für die innere Reflexion singt: “I talk to water / Searching for myself / Looking for answers / Oceans of you.” Farrells Auftritt bringt eine weitere Klangfarbe, einen weiteren Geist in das Album, der gut zu seinem jüngsten Interesse an elektronischer Musik passt. “Er war völlig fasziniert von der Idee, mit Wasser zu sprechen”, sagt Kölsch und denkt darüber nach, wie wir kollektiv zur Natur als Trost, Zuhörer, Führer durch die Trauer neigen, um die Gelände des Herzens zu kartieren. Diese Kartierung ist etwas, in dem Kölsch im Laufe der Jahre erstaunlich geschickt war; Tanzmusik für Körper und Geist, sowohl für das Hier und Jetzt, als auch für das Leben danach.

Following their sold-out launch at London’s iconic KOKO, Mercury Prize-winning MC, producer and creative Skepta and
renowned Lord Of The Mics founder Jammer are keeping things moving in impressive fashion as they continue to establish their new Más Tiempo project. Taking the sound from London to Miami and Milan via high-profile DJ sets before returning to Ibiza for the collective’s debut at the World’s #1 Club Hï alongside The Martinez Brothers, the co-founders unite once again as they deliver the second instalment of their house-focused imprint.

Set for release on 30th June 2023, the BBK mainstays are joined by British singer-songwriter and OddChild Music favourite Etta Bond, who reunites with the Big Smoke Records boss following their 2012 record ‘Mastermind’, as they serve up a resonant and soulful anthem built for the summer months with ‘Touching My Body’ - showcasing a deeper, more profound side to their sound.

Harnessing Bond’s alluring and absorbing vocals and weaving rich sun-soaked melodies, crisp percussion arrangements and
sweeping, warping leads around them to create a captivating journey through sounds, ‘Touching My Body’ welcomes a
production built for bustling daytime terraces and memorable early hours moments in equal measure.

Welcoming another new name to the Más Tiempo family, the B-side brings an impactful label debut from fellow Grime talent and London-based musician/producer Jus Jammin, who steps out under Jammin and showcases his own explorations into house music. Here on ‘Down Shovel’ he draws for sharp snappy drums, zig-zagging synths, bubbling leads and warped vocals, serving up a heavy slice of dancefloor ammunition that has been making some serious noise in Skepta’s recent DJ sets.

The influence that 80s gay nightlife had on electronic music, pop music in general and the evolution of clubbing for
subsequent generations is pretty much incalculable. In spite of the shadow of AIDs and reactionary political and media
forces both at home and in the USA, the period 1980 – 1990 bore witness to a dazzling explosion of dance music that
artfully drew a line from the peak of late-70s disco to the emergence of house and its 90s glory days. The art of the
12” single, the thrill of the remix, the rise of the superclub, the electronic spark of chart pop, the challenging of gender
barriers… all had their origin in the gay clubs. It’s not unreasonable to make the claim that by the end of the 80s,
virtually ALL chart pop music sounded like it had its origins on the dancefloors of Heaven nightclub!
Over 4LPs and 24 tracks, ‘Box Of Sin’ strives to tell the story of that decade, and to tease apart the strands of 80s gay
clubbing to show a period of unrivalled creativity and disco diversity. Via the box’s themed discs it shows how highenergy became house, how gender-bending synth bands took over the pop charts, how pop stars the whole world
over found a route to fame via the gay clubs, and how the era’s biggest producers aimed their masterworks purely at
the dancefloor. High energy, deep house, Eurobeat, synthpop, divas, acid house… all combine to paint a picture of a
rich and vibrant lifestyle. Along the way, ‘Box Of Sin’ unearths some overlooked gems rarely compiled today:
meanwhile some of the decade’s biggest names in club music gather to get into the picture – from Whitney Houston
to Dead Or Alive, Bananarama to Bronski Beat, Aretha Franklin to Inner City.
Based on the actual club charts at the time and with a stunning design package inspired by the small ads section of
80s gay press, ‘ Box Of Sin’ comes fully annotated and with an introduction by renowned gay author Paul Burston.
Throughout, it’s illustrated with photography documenting 80s gay clubbers in action, provided for Demon by The
Bishopsgate Institute, the UK’s LGBTQ+ archive. The project also resurrects the much-loved brand ‘Disco Discharge’, a
recognisable hallmark of quality among collectors and aficionados of club music heritage.

Multi-instrumentalist Sally Anne Morgan, known for her work as part of The Black Twig Pickers, and half of House and Land (with Sarah Louise), cultivates seeds sown by folk musics and psychedelia. Carrying tills the rich soil of Appalachian traditions and her rural North Carolina surroundings into warm, reflective songs about the weight people carry with them, as well as Morgan"s own pregnancy and the birth of her first child. Bridging the more freeform, expansive leanings of 2021"s Cups and the lucid beauty of her acclaimed 2020 debut Thread, Carrying finds Morgan imbuing her masterfully crafted songs with more subtle and intricate arrangements. The album"s exploratory nature is anchored by a full band comprised of some of the most thoughtful players in the psychedelic folk and "cosmic country" spheres, including a guest appearance by Ripley Johnson (Rose City Band, Wooden Shjips, Moon Duo), and the foundational rhythm section of fellow The Black Twig Pickers collaborators: drummer Nathan Bowles (Steve Gunn Band, Pelt), guitarist Andrew Zinn, and bassist/engineer Joe Dejarnette. Morgan finds unity in the burdens and joys, tensions, and releases of modern living as a common thread that people bear in their day-to-day lives. "So much of what we accumulate and carry around with us burdens us, but we also can"t or don"t know how to let go," says Morgan. The profoundness and mundanity of that weight ran parallel for Morgan as she literally carried her child to term: the utter commonality of enduring what billions of parents before her had, and the awesome power of the human body and spirit, the complicated and unpredictable wash of emotions that come with nurturing and nourishing another life.

Having announced that Snapper Music will be representing Porcupine
Tree’s Transmission label worldwide, new CD and LP reissues of the band’s catalogue continue to be rolled out throughout 2021.

The concept for ‘The Incident’ (the band’s much lauded 10th and most recent studio album from 2009) emerged as Porcupine Tree’s creator Steven Wilson, was caught in a motorway traffic jam whilst driving past a road accident.
“There was a sign saying ‘POLICE - INCIDENT’ and everyone was slowing down to see what had happened... Afterwards, it struck me that ‘incident’ is a very detached word for something so destructive and traumatic for the people involved. The irony of such a cold expression for such seismic events appealed to me, and I began to pick out other ‘incidents’ reported in the media and news, I wrote about the evacuation of teenage girls from a religious cult in Texas, a
family terrorising its neighbours, a body found floating in a river by some people on a fishing trip, and more.

Consisting of 18 tracks, each song is written in the first person, attempting to humanise the detached media reportage of each associated event. The first 14 tracks form part of a 55-minute song cycle, with the last 4 having been recorded later (and originally released as a second disc to stress their independence from the song cycle).

The album was nominated for a Grammy Award for Best Surround Sound Album and reached the Top 25 in the US and UK album charts. It was awarded “Album Of The Year” in Classic Rock and German magazine Eclipsed.

‘The Incident’ marked another step forward in the incredible journey of the band that began as a solo studio project and grew to a multi-Grammy nominated act and one of the world’s most revered live bands, selling out arenas across the globe and wowing fans with their incredible performances.

This new Transmission 2021 reissue of ‘The Incident’ remains faithful to the original artwork and all 18 album tracks are presented on one disc housed in a digipack with 8-page booklet or as a gatefold double LP on 140g black vinyl.

“An intriguing and truly inspiring album” - Rock Sound
“The title suite is the Tree’s finest hour: a mounting drama of memoir and realnews trauma, animated with slicing guitars, ghost-song electronics, mile-high harmonies and smart pop bait - Rolling Stone

Following hot in the footsteps of his debut HF release ‘Cocoa Butter’, ‘Off The Grid’ sees Renelle 893 team up with producer Bay29 on a body of work that offers an escape route from the monotonous every day; the duo taking us further and further off the beaten track, marrying moments of purest hedonism with stark reminders that the real world lies in wait, just after sunrise, with no pause button in sight.

Laying the foundations with summer anthem (and lead single) ’Spaghetti’, Renelle wrestles with the fleeting nature of youth, and his topsy turvy relationship with the finer things in life. The dynamic is both gritty and nostalgic as Renelle walks the fine line between Hollywood hedonism and slurry excess, his mood swinging between moments of invincibility and vulnerability, expertly scored by Bay29’s ethereal, bass dripping instrumentals.

Another SE London / Brighton hook up, one of many on the label in recent years, Renelle utilised his late night train rides to-and-from Bay29’s Brighton studio as an opportunity to refine the verses that make up the bones of the project.

Twelve-tracks; six vocal, six instrumental, ‘Off The Grid’ is the first in a series of new works from Renelle 893 & Bay29. A perfect scene-setter for what’s to come.

As Renelle 893 explains… “Off The Grid is about soul searching and figuring out what kind of adult I am looking to be, navigating a world filled with distractions that will do everything to numb the pain as life inevitably passes you by…”

In a world of endless, bottomless content, to find something that stands out from the crowd is a rare thing. But it’s something that 7ebra manage without breaking a sweat. Based in Malmö, twin sisters Inez and Ella Johansson deal in sparkling indie-rock that’s pretty without being soft, sweet without losing its edge and catchy without being cheap. With Inez on guitar and vocals and Ella on keys, organ and Mellotron, their minimal set-up makes a virtue of simplicity – with a sliver of guitar fuzz, and organ lines snaking around stark, striking vocals, augmented by shivering harmonies, they don’t need a lot to make music that’s colourful, kaleidoscopic, and effortlessly original.

7ebra debuted in 2022 with the double-single “I Have A Lot To Say”/ “If I Ask Her”, two helpings of psych-tinged, street-smart rock and roll, and the music scene around them wasn’t slow to notice. They opened for the Future Islands and the Dandy Warhols, were picked out by Apple Music’s Matt Wilkinson as a Hidden Gem of 2022 and were booked for prestigious showcases SXSW and Eurosonic. With a packed schedule of shows across Europe and the UK already planned for 2023, their world looks set to get a lot bigger – something that their debut album Bird Hour makes certain. The record is a warm, elegant introduction to the sound 7ebra have crafted. The songs are full of personality and character, but also retain a little bit of enigma, a sense of keeping something secret to themselves. To unwrap that elusiveness is a daunting task, but one the listener can’t resist leaping into.

Ella and Inez’s parents played in bands as they were growing up, so picking up music was a natural thing for them. The origins of 7ebra start with Inez whiling away the hours playing guitar in her bedroom. “I learned by playing covers by myself in my room”, she says. “Ella didn’t do that as much, but we sometimes played and sang together, country songs”. Eventually she would start writing her own. Ella wasn’t involved originally (“we did play together a few times”, she says, “and it just went to shit laughs. We fought a lot”), and Inez was originally reluctant: “I was a bit unsure whether I wanted to be in a band with my sister. Because you get clumped together all the time, when you’re twins”. But Ella was keen to join, and eventually persuaded Inez to let her join for a show. It went – so well that producer Tore Johansson (The Cardigans, Franz Ferdinand), saw it and asked if they’d like to record with him. That changed things, says Ella: “It made us think there might be something in this music”. As a duo, 7ebra were in flight. “In the end, it’s kind of a nice thing too being sisters in a band”, Inez says. “It doesn’t bother me anymore. It just made sense to play together”.

On the album that they eventually came up with, the talent that caught Johansson’s eye is immediately obvious. Opener “Secretly Bad” has a way of walking along your nerves, an eerie echo of a hymn in Inez’s vocal backed by a swirl of woozy blend of guitars and organ. That’s followed up by “I Like To Pretend”, an easily charming song that has a sleepy brightness about it, like morning sunlight breaking through a window. They take a couple of different genres for a whirl on Bird Hour – they’re tense and snappy on “If I Ask Her”, breezy and cocky on “Lighter Better”, and there’s even a couple of droplets of blues and folk in the mix, in the raw intensity of the emotions in the slower songs, the vulnerability and aching of songs like “Lean” and “Stripey Horsey”. The record has a way of sweeping you along in its mood and tones, fuelled in part by the band’s use of repetition, sometimes fast and fevered, sometimes crawling and hypnotic. The duo’s musical input blends perfectly, with Inez’s guitar and vocals forming the core, and Ella drawing in the detail with keys, organ, and harmonies, to really bring out the vivid nature of the songs. Indie rock that’s melodic and sweet, but with enough shadow mixed in to make it really compelling.

On Bird Hour, what strikes you first about 7ebra’s sound is how fully formed it is, how much they’ve carved out their own sonic territory, perfected by trial and error in the studio with Johansson. “Tore wanted us to try everything possible”, says Ella. “We had moments where things weren’t working. But that was necessary in order to find the good stuff”. 7ebra’s signature might be found in the deft way they deal with emotion – unafraid of being open, but a little too clever to make things too clear cut: “You can’t take yourself that seriously. It’s too emotional to take it seriously, to start hating yourself. But at the same time, it is quite serious”, says Ella. Another trademark is the simplicity – a 7ebra song has just enough to make it work, and nothing more. “I think it was important for me that our voices were at the centre of the songs”, says Inez, “that all the little melodies have their place, and don’t get overwhelmed. With lyrics, I sometimes come up with something, and just feel ‘there’s no need to add more to this’. Sometimes a line works by itself. You don’t have to add a bunch of lyrics”. Finally, the album’s themes are ones that will resonate with most people that have set foot on this planet. “I guess it’s about trying to understand yourself, in relation to others. Just life. ‘Why am I not good at this, why is this thing happening to me, why is this thing so hard, why am I so stupid?’”, laughs Ella.

7ebra haven’t been around for very long – but a handful of songs and their fizzing live shows have stirred up the biggest buzz in Scandinavian music in quite a while. Their debut album justifies it all. It showcases the magic they’re capable of conjuring up, and hints at even more to come in the future. But from where they are right now, they’ve made something very special. Bird Hour takes all that promise and turns it into something concrete, in the form of one of the year’s best rock debuts.

In a world of endless, bottomless content, to find something that stands out from the crowd is a rare thing. But it’s something that 7ebra manage without breaking a sweat. Based in Malmö, twin sisters Inez and Ella Johansson deal in sparkling indie-rock that’s pretty without being soft, sweet without losing its edge and catchy without being cheap. With Inez on guitar and vocals and Ella on keys, organ and Mellotron, their minimal set-up makes a virtue of simplicity – with a sliver of guitar fuzz, and organ lines snaking around stark, striking vocals, augmented by shivering harmonies, they don’t need a lot to make music that’s colourful, kaleidoscopic, and effortlessly original.

7ebra debuted in 2022 with the double-single “I Have A Lot To Say”/ “If I Ask Her”, two helpings of psych-tinged, street-smart rock and roll, and the music scene around them wasn’t slow to notice. They opened for the Future Islands and the Dandy Warhols, were picked out by Apple Music’s Matt Wilkinson as a Hidden Gem of 2022 and were booked for prestigious showcases SXSW and Eurosonic. With a packed schedule of shows across Europe and the UK already planned for 2023, their world looks set to get a lot bigger – something that their debut album Bird Hour makes certain. The record is a warm, elegant introduction to the sound 7ebra have crafted. The songs are full of personality and character, but also retain a little bit of enigma, a sense of keeping something secret to themselves. To unwrap that elusiveness is a daunting task, but one the listener can’t resist leaping into.

Ella and Inez’s parents played in bands as they were growing up, so picking up music was a natural thing for them. The origins of 7ebra start with Inez whiling away the hours playing guitar in her bedroom. “I learned by playing covers by myself in my room”, she says. “Ella didn’t do that as much, but we sometimes played and sang together, country songs”. Eventually she would start writing her own. Ella wasn’t involved originally (“we did play together a few times”, she says, “and it just went to shit laughs. We fought a lot”), and Inez was originally reluctant: “I was a bit unsure whether I wanted to be in a band with my sister. Because you get clumped together all the time, when you’re twins”. But Ella was keen to join, and eventually persuaded Inez to let her join for a show. It went – so well that producer Tore Johansson (The Cardigans, Franz Ferdinand), saw it and asked if they’d like to record with him. That changed things, says Ella: “It made us think there might be something in this music”. As a duo, 7ebra were in flight. “In the end, it’s kind of a nice thing too being sisters in a band”, Inez says. “It doesn’t bother me anymore. It just made sense to play together”.

On the album that they eventually came up with, the talent that caught Johansson’s eye is immediately obvious. Opener “Secretly Bad” has a way of walking along your nerves, an eerie echo of a hymn in Inez’s vocal backed by a swirl of woozy blend of guitars and organ. That’s followed up by “I Like To Pretend”, an easily charming song that has a sleepy brightness about it, like morning sunlight breaking through a window. They take a couple of different genres for a whirl on Bird Hour – they’re tense and snappy on “If I Ask Her”, breezy and cocky on “Lighter Better”, and there’s even a couple of droplets of blues and folk in the mix, in the raw intensity of the emotions in the slower songs, the vulnerability and aching of songs like “Lean” and “Stripey Horsey”. The record has a way of sweeping you along in its mood and tones, fuelled in part by the band’s use of repetition, sometimes fast and fevered, sometimes crawling and hypnotic. The duo’s musical input blends perfectly, with Inez’s guitar and vocals forming the core, and Ella drawing in the detail with keys, organ, and harmonies, to really bring out the vivid nature of the songs. Indie rock that’s melodic and sweet, but with enough shadow mixed in to make it really compelling.

On Bird Hour, what strikes you first about 7ebra’s sound is how fully formed it is, how much they’ve carved out their own sonic territory, perfected by trial and error in the studio with Johansson. “Tore wanted us to try everything possible”, says Ella. “We had moments where things weren’t working. But that was necessary in order to find the good stuff”. 7ebra’s signature might be found in the deft way they deal with emotion – unafraid of being open, but a little too clever to make things too clear cut: “You can’t take yourself that seriously. It’s too emotional to take it seriously, to start hating yourself. But at the same time, it is quite serious”, says Ella. Another trademark is the simplicity – a 7ebra song has just enough to make it work, and nothing more. “I think it was important for me that our voices were at the centre of the songs”, says Inez, “that all the little melodies have their place, and don’t get overwhelmed. With lyrics, I sometimes come up with something, and just feel ‘there’s no need to add more to this’. Sometimes a line works by itself. You don’t have to add a bunch of lyrics”. Finally, the album’s themes are ones that will resonate with most people that have set foot on this planet. “I guess it’s about trying to understand yourself, in relation to others. Just life. ‘Why am I not good at this, why is this thing happening to me, why is this thing so hard, why am I so stupid?’”, laughs Ella.

7ebra haven’t been around for very long – but a handful of songs and their fizzing live shows have stirred up the biggest buzz in Scandinavian music in quite a while. Their debut album justifies it all. It showcases the magic they’re capable of conjuring up, and hints at even more to come in the future. But from where they are right now, they’ve made something very special. Bird Hour takes all that promise and turns it into something concrete, in the form of one of the year’s best rock debuts.

After "Afro Exotique - Adventures In The Leftfield, Africa 1972-88" was enthusiastically embraced by heads, collectors and core Africa Seven enthusiasts alike, we dived back down into the vaults, and hope we've come up with another volume of listenable esoterica from roughly the same period.

"The Quest", courtesy of fleeting 1978 leftfield supergroup Afro Cult Foundation (featuring Joni Haastrup, Remi Kabaka and friends) sets the tone-bar high and sideways, with 4.50 mins of atmospheric, effected solo piano drift to get things started.

Congolese ensemble band "Orchestre Lipua Lipua" introduces gently lilting Soukous with 1977's, "Distingue", before BG and Fibre's "Thanks and Praises" introduces some wobbly, Moog tinged Lagos reggae shuffle to proceedings.

Akwassa's 1974 funker "I Don't Want Nobody" peels off into a Hammond / wah wah / moog mini odyssey half way through, before Tongolese chanteuse Akofa Akoussah's stirring "Ramer San Rame" introduces emotional charge into proceedings.

Francis Bebey's "La Condition Masculine" (1976) is a centre piece of the album, with it's skippy drum machine rhythm and spoken world vocal, but we'll admit, we probably wouldn't have used it if we'd read a translation of that vocal first.

Benis Cletin's "Jungle Magic" (1979) acid funk intro then gives way to a blatant, and at times slightly unhinged homage to the all conquering (at the time) "I Feel Love", Sorry Bamba's "M'Bife Je T'Aime" keeps the leftfield funk groove rolling, before the mournful, immersive croon of Gregoire Lawani's "Elle M'a Mordu La Langue" brings proceedings to a reflective close.

BBE Music are proud to reissue one of the most elusive and sought-after Afro-Funk LPs of all time: SON OF AFRICA, by REMI KABAKA.

Now a proud 85 years of age and enjoying retirement in America, Remi was the cornerstone of British West African music in the 50s, 60s and 70s, along with Ginger Oloronso Johnson, Fela Kuti and others. But while Ginger played mambo and cha cha cha in Soho clubland and Fela released his early ‘highlife jazz’ records on the Melodisc label, Remi Kabaka was fully ensconced in the UK Rock world, playing sessions and live shows with The Rolling Stones, Paul McCartney, Ginger Baker, Steve Winwood and countless others.

As the 60s became the 70s, Kabaka developed yet another string to his bow: the development of a UK based West African Funk scene, that found its genesis in the legendary Osibisa, but with an influence and an inspiration that spilled over into every contemporary Brit Funk band from Cymande and the Equals to The Average White Band, Matata and beyond.

SON OF AFRICA was originally released by Chris Blackwell’s Island records in 1976, to little acclaim, very few reviews, and with almost no promotion. African music was a hard sell when the 70s Black British record market wanted reggae first and foremost, and with Bob Marley on the books, Island understandably had other priorities at the time. The record disappeared. Until it reappeared in the early 2000s, as a £700-plus collectors’ item.

It’s barely 30 minutes long. But every single minute is drenched with sinuous, spare funk: no spacey psych rock, no disco, no boogie, no over-the-top production: just 90-110 BPM grooves that go straight to the body.

So: whether you’re a turntablist, a hip hop sampler, or just an honest-to-goodness African Funk lover, catch this limited reissue (with full, updated liner notes) while you can. There won’t be another chance.

As the artwork on the EP depicts, "Darkest hour before dawn" is a dusky scenario representing the Dutch environment known as "the polder" in the lower lands. It questions all kinds of actions taken or not taken to protect, restore, conserve, innovate, or modestly leave the landscape to its own more murky outcome. The darkest hour, full of gloom, will be available around the spring equinox?

Portrait of tracks separately:


"Darkest Hour before dawn"

Is this piece supposed to be an ode to the ancient Dutch hardcore movement, that once and probably only then would be experienced to such intensity or is this still maybe just a little near reminder of it? Anyway starts this unlit track slowly and remains that way but maintains a fat-pumping pulse, possibly reminding of a soldier walking a death march. Settling up those launch pads further down the piece, near the bridge for shooting off some drum-fire 909 snares as if it rocketed. Then, suddenly, the extended delay of that snare turns into a psychedelic drone beside, attending to, or paranoidly chasing comrades soul in his journey throughout and above like a trustful partner?

Arp's LFO that is out of sync with the beat and is being outpaced by it seems to slow everything down even more; meantime creating a pulling, buggy-like effect to the due of all this.

The ascending and descending ghost-pad drawing into the grid of the (tone) key, thereafter parking in them for a while and cycling out again, creating a spatial flow of disturbance and anxiety.

Finishes it with a mountain-big reverberation of organized destruction and chaos. What at first sight seems like simply an innocent route appears to actually be a bit more complex one.


"Lovely memories"

The quite monotonous structure of Lovely memories catchy and groovy song is scanning through your brain files; revisiting, memorizing, and purposely lacking these few "dots above the I" that in some cases you'd gladly be feeling like to square fit it in yourself, of course, when necessary. Connecting the puzzling, dazzling flashbacks together to finally wrap up and perpetuate the pictured events for good, leaving traces of melancholy, loveliness, and perhaps even faith to it.


"24 hours"

Dinginess of 24 hours supposes to be felt in the guts.
The beat, steady with that snare on the 4 & 12, might not be one of the greatest inventions. However, the TR-08's drum line here lays a solid and fertile foundation for a reasonable house track.

Slightly detuned synths weave a scarf pattern around your upper body, and the lower layers carry a warm blanket for the underbelly, providing you with that cozy sense of consolation. Acidy pokes wring itself sneaky and penetrable around, slicing through the song's already solid flesh. Therefore, balancing its bitter sweetness throughout with these soft-hard saw-tooth drops of sourness.

"24 hours" conveys a dispatch or intercommunication that there is little time left to take actions/charge to fix and restore. Something big is about to come if it hasn't arrived already...


"At night"

This remarkable story is a bit out of ordinary.
At night appeared in the artist's dream just the night before his sick father was raised from death in the hospital and got just another year to live before actually passing away completely and anyway. ; ))
And thus also dedicated to the man.

Ground Groove, the third full-length release from the LA-based, Iranian-American producer and DJ, Maral, begins with an invocation: the sprawling, achingly heavy Feedback Jam opens the floodgates of history. Conventional (linear) spacetime collapses, crushed beneath the track’s lumbering 4/4 heartbeat and successive waves of distortion. As each wave recedes, samples trickle forward in the mix — seeking, perhaps, to fill the void. Voices and instruments rise and fall in uncanny reverse. Overlapping, implied melodies flicker into focus, then flit away. Feedback Jam is at once an initiation ritual, and a thesis statement for the record that follows.

Drawing upon a vast personal archive of Iranian folk, classical, and pop recordings (some sourced from mixtapes made by her parents in the eighties/nineties), Maral presents, on Ground Groove, a further refinement of the signature “folk club” sound she developed as a live DJ— a sound she would later codify on Mahur Club (2019) and Push (2020). By collecting, dissecting, and re/presenting sonic fragments from Iran, Maral practices a kind of dance-floor ethnomusicology. The subject of her inquiry: Iranian


culture and contexts, throughout history and in the present. But, crucially, this inquiry is instantiated within and throughout the body of the listener, whether this listener is dancing in the club, or riding the train, nodding along with headphones on.

Maral speaks of being in collaboration with her samples, treating each as a distinct bandmate, often consulting with an artist’s catalog (or even a single recording) as one would a trusted creative partner. In so-doing, Maral claims to seek to transcend the self. In this regard, her output neatly triangulates contemporary dance and heavy music with much of the traditional religious music that she samples. Broadly speaking, each of these idioms addresses a desire —shared by audience and performer alike—to transcend the self through volume, repetition, and movement.

Having, in her youth, studied the Setar under Nader Majd (the founder of Virginia’s Center for Persian Classical Music), Maral cycled through various genres (ex: punk, emo, dub) in her adolescence and early twenties, all the while expanding her knowledge of, and appreciation for, Iran’s diverse musical traditions during regular summer trips to Tehran. In college, Maral taught herself to make beats with a ripped copy of Ableton (which remains her DAW of choice), eventually transitioning to playing and hosting various club nights. Forever abiding by an autodidactic, DIY impulse to create art and foster community, Maral relocated to Los Angeles in 2013, where she quickly immersed herself in the city’s numerous overlapping music scenes.

Collaboration (beyond sampling) has proven an important component of her process, with notable spoken word contributions from the likes of Lee Scratch Perry and Penny Rimbaud, as well as a 2021 Panda Bear collab track (On Your Way), which the Animal Collective founder co-produced. Maral is equally attentive to the visual components of her records (album art, music videos, etc.), drawing upon the work of peers and friends for inspiration.

Indeed, the genesis of Ground Groove can be traced back to an audio-visual collaboration between Maral and the artist Brenna Murphy, originally commissioned for the 2021 Rewire Festival — a project that would eventually serve as the album’s foundation. Tracks eight through eleven on Ground Groove comprise Maral’s half of this installation, with tracks one through seven composed afterwards, inspired by the fruits of Maral and Murphy’s collaboration. Murphy’s visuals will be released alongside Ground Groove as a visual accompaniment. Additionally, Murphy designed the album’s art, directed the video for the lead single (the aforementioned Feedback Jam), and is featured on track six, Shy Night.

Composed largely on Ableton, Ground Groove features more frequent and more prominent live recordings from Maral (guitar, bass, and vocals) than either Push or Mahar Club. The cult favorite Roland MC-909 groovebox rears its head on Mari’s Groove. Mixed by Trayer Tryon (Hundred Waters) and mastered by Daddy Kev, the attention to sonic quality on Ground Groove constitutes another significant step in Maral’s development as a studio artist.

Ground Groove’s eleven tracks are “grooves” in the obvious sense, in that they are each driven by a persistent, propulsive rhythm, but the album’s title may just as well suggest the glacial passage of time—the scope of human history, in which individual voices, like streams, carve paths (impossibly) through earth and stone, winding their way to the vast sea of the present.

“This is me at my most imaginative, freakiest, and yet still most grounded and introspective,” says Japanese American rapper/actor Lyrics Born not only about his new album Vision Board, but also his “self” and his existence. “I feel like a new man! I’m healthier physically, spiritually, mentally, and emotionally.” The lead single and video “Diamond Door” is a pop/rap banger that lands you with an infectious barb and keeps you hooked for days, and is a thinly-veiled tribute to a particular style of female appreciation, but it can also be taken as a welcome mat to the new era of Lyrics Born. The accompanying video which shows Lyrics Born in his current physical form - svelte, stylish and with a confident swagger - reinforces this next chapter in his life. 60 pounds lighter, he lost the weight during the pandemic when he knew he needed to make a change. “Touring was becoming harder, and I was having all these weird health problems, but nothing that anybody could put their finger on,” he explains “My anxiety was high. I was not sleeping well. I was on the verge of really bad health.” And this improvement brought more confidence which shows in his new album. Vision Board is a focused affair that found him stretching his creativity farther and challenging himself to write in a way he’s never written before. Recorded primarily in New Orleans and produced by Rob Mercurio of Galactic (who also produced 2015’s Real People and 2018’s Quite a Life), it posited him in a new environment that helped his creative juices flow even more fluidly. “There’s nothing like recording in the Crescent City. It just gets in your blood, and the results are always funky and wild.” “This is about as psychedelic as I’ve ever been,” LB says. “I’m so proud of this album. I’m in a different space. The world is in a different space, and I wanted to celebrate that, loosen up and really create some imagery and share some emotion that I never have. I was listening to a lot of Shuggie Otis; a lot of obscure psychedelic soul and later Temptations,” he explained. “This is like if Alice in Wonderland was Japanese.” Vision Board was also inspired by another Bay Area rap luminary, although one who’s no longer with us - Gift of Gab. The dexterous Blackalicious MC and fellow Quannum Projects alum had a profound effect on Lyrics Born’s life, both creatively and philosophically. “I asked myself on some of these songs: ‘How would Gab approach them?’” he said. “I’d play with certain cadences, certain styles; I tried to stretch stylistically, lyrically and vocally on every single song. None of the patterns are the same.” Lyrics Born’s vulnerability shines through on the nine-track effort, something he’s not ashamed to admit (nor should he be). At one point during the pandemic, he was losing one friend, peer or family member every other week - from Zumbi of Zion I to Gift of Gab to Digital Underground’s Shock G. While many of the songs are deeply introspective, he had to “write some fun shit,” too. Celebratory horns, uptempo rhythms and fiery bars pepper the project from start to finish, and truly encapsulate Lyrics Born’s evolution of not just a groundbreaking Asian-American MC but also a human being. As the only Asian-American MC to release 10 studio albums, the first Asian-American to play major music festivals like Coachella and Lollapalooza and the first Asian-American to release a greatest hits compilation, Lyrics Born has been breaking barriers his entire life - and he’s not going to stop anytime soon. From the bombastic and tribal “I’m the Best Rapper in the World” with its self-winking boastfulness to the playful scat of “Bang Bang Bang” that slinks like an outtake from West Side Story, to the smooth and seductive “Who's The Best? (Dear Young LB)," to the psychedelic and swoony ”Alligator Boots” with it dreamy “Walk on the Wildside”-esque reverby sway, Vision Board sees Lyrics Born tackling different tones, textures and genres without fear and making them completely his own. It's an eclectic body of work that boasts more synths, more psychedelia and is generally more abstract.

Debut album by Dutch producer w1b0, who passed away in August, to be released in November on U-TRAX.

Wibo Lammerts' sudden death on August 15thshocked the worldwide electro community, and also left the record label, that had been working on the debut album with the artist known as w1b0 for the past two years, dumbfounded and in grief.

Wibo had jokingly always called his upcoming debut album 'his legacy', which now sadly has become a painful truth. With the support of Wibo's family, U-TRAX is now doing the only thing that doesn't feel totally wrong: proceed as planned, and release 'When Humans Ruled The Earth' on November 11.

W1b0 made quite a name for himself with heavy electro tracks that he released on labels like Bass Agenda, Hilltown Disco and Discos Antónicos. Standing at 202 meters, and combined with a cheerful character, most people remember him as the gentle giant of electro.
For this album, Wibo wanted to steer away from the dark and heavy electro he mostly made until then. The idea of having a platform to create delicate electronic music in different styles, and make it a showcase of his versatility, was very appealing to him. And that is where he and U-TRAX found each other.

The full-length album (over 75 minutes on cd and digital) comes after 'The Pilex Program EP', released in October, that featured a remix by Detroit's Ectomorph of 'Pilex Driver' and saw 'Program Yourself To Feel' remixed by a well-known Dutch producer that recently created the new 'techno alias' Human Form.
As usual with U-TRAX, the album comes in three different editions, with the 11-track double vinyl version containing the Ectomorph and Human Form remixes. The CD and digital version boast original versions only, plus four additional tracks: 'Alternate Reality Interface', 'Mixed Matter Fluctator', 'Synthetic', and 'In There'. The cassette version more or less has the same track list as the CD/digi version, but has both aforementioned remixes and a bonus track in the incredibly hypnotizing 'I Wanted You', a track that unfortunately couldn't be on the CD and vinyl versions.

Buyers of the physical releases get treated on superior quality products, another trademark of U-TRAX. The vinyl edition boasts over one hour of music, on two 180 grams, green vinyl discs, in a black & white & neon green gatefold sleeve. The eye-catching artwork is created by Utrecht artist Leffe Goldstein, known amongst others for his psychedelic beer can designs for Utrecht brewery Maximus. Wibo, being the beer lover he was, had zero doubts about having Leffe Goldstein do the cover for his album. The CD has a total playing time of 75 minutes and comes in a beautiful 6-panel digipack, while the cassette will have full-color on-body print and comes in a plastic-free Maltese cross fold-up sleeve.

Buyers of the physical releases get treated on superior quality products, another trademark of U-TRAX. The vinyl edition boasts over one hour of music, on two 180 grams, green vinyl discs, in a black & white & neon green gatefold sleeve. The eye-catching artwork is created by Utrecht artist Leffe Goldstein, known amongst others for his psychedelic beer can designs for Utrecht brewery Maximus. Wibo, being the beer lover he was, had zero doubts about having Leffe Goldstein do the cover for his album. The CD has a total playing time of 75 minutes and comes in a beautiful 6-panel digipack, while the cassette will have full-color on-body print and comes in a plastic-free Maltese cross fold-up sleeve.

Opener 'Acid Whip' is one of the oldest compositions on this album, in which a dark 303 bassline hums over layers of spacey strings. Wibo named it after the legendary Whip It party in Amsterdam's De Melkweg. 'Alternate Reality Interface' then presents bouncy rhythms toying around with all sorts of analog (bass) synthesizers, before we go really deep with the epic ambient techno track 'Wandering Souls'.
Then things get a little lighter spirited: 'Mixed Matter Fluctator' is an electro track that builds on sounds created by Matt Buggins. It has very strong Detroit influences, the city Wibo loved so much and that he made a pilgrimage to with a group of friends that called themselves 'The Techno Tourists'. The tempo goes up a notch in 'Program Yourself To Feel', that halfway opens up in wide science fiction strings that evoke memories of Star Wars, the movie series that Wibo was a great fan of, and that was the source of many of his tracks' names. The Human Form remix opens the vinyl edition of this album and is a downright belter of a track.

Next is a somewhat experimental intermezzo named 'Synthetic'. Erratic beats and pounding bassdrums get accompanied by very subtle eerie-sounding strings, before melancholic synthesizers and piano chords take over. This is an excellent prelude to the epic 'Hologram Computing', a track that is one of our favorites. It slowly and softly builds and builds, before a pounding bassdrum breaks loose and a hypnotic arpeggio takes you to higher planes.
Not ready to letting the listener relax, w1bo then serves 'Beilstein Reference', which again presents his trademark cocktail of down-to-earth electro rhythms and catchy melodies, covered in all sort of little sounds and noises, giving the song a lot of energy. What follows is 'Hit me', a track loosely based on a song by Dutch indie rock band Mr. Joe Abe. Wibo met the band's singer on a camping site while being on holidays and the two decided Wibo should do a remix of one of their songs. Nothing was left of the original except the vocals, and the result is a remarkable cheerful, poppy electro song.

'Anticipated Input' is one of the more recent tracks Wibo made for this album, combining electro, acid and, yes: epic strings. But not all is peace and quiet on this album, as 'Pilex Driver' shows. This is w1b0 going experimental in a danceable fashion: Industrial sounds make the track sound like we're passing a construction site that is playing loud electro music. On the vinyl version of this album, Ectomorph totally decomposed the original and made it into a mysterious, almost subdued, and totally brilliant electro track that sees a main role for the retro Roland CR drum machines sounds.

TFHats, Wibo's fellow member of the Transhumanism collective, added lyrics to 'Cartesian Coordinates'. His vocals add a pleasant New Wave flavor to this song, that has breaks that remarkably reminds one of Nirvana's 'Smells Like Teen Spirit'. What follows is the most personal track on this album. 'Fornan' is a song that Wibo made for his wife Nanette, and was added as the last piece of the puzzle that creating an album is. The warm Detroit techno atmosphere in this electro song couldn't be a more beautiful tribute to his love, and mother of their two young boys.
The album then takes a surprising detour through a 1980s landscape with 'In There', that features the Joy Division-esque vocals of another one of Wibo's friends, indicated only as Vincent. The super slow and gloomy track is a treat for anyone that loved the darker side of New Wave. The album has a worthy closer in the sensitive, yet playful 'Schlegel Diagram'.








h 08: Hit Me (w1b0's Slugfest Assault Dub) feat. Mr Joe Abe

“Arguably his generation’s best lyricist” – Mojo // “The year’s stand-out album for me” – Stewart Lee // “A sort of modern-day pastoral” – Simon Armitage, Poet Laureate // The follow-up to last year’s first volume, English Primitive II continues the themes introduced previously in a harder, more electric and psychedelic style. The songs were mostly recorded during the same sessions but, if EPII showcased the ‘songs of innocence’, this new set comprises ‘songs of experience’. Callahan's lyrical themes here are frequently the sleaze and corruption of our ‘betters’, the intentional and unintentional brutality meted out on those weaker and the sometimes perverse ways in which this happens. There are moments of reflection among the broken mirrors, but they allow scant solace or reassurance. Dressed in another of Scottish artist Pinkie McClure’s witty and detailed stained glass creations and recorded at home and under a railway arch, EPII rises above its origins and invades the wider world, in all its colour, gritand glory. Each song serves as a monument to its internal tale – in fact, the whole LP is as much a collection of musical short stories as it is an album of songs. Opening with Invisible Man, the impression of a regular person with hidden grievances, biding his time and waiting to lash out is given. Waves of distant samples ebb and fall as the warped guitars swell and crash behind the main themes. We don’t know when this explosion will happen – we only know it will. A sleazy celebration of Britain’s position as the laundering capital of the world follows in the form of Beautiful Launderette. It’s good that we keep everything nice and clean for the whole planet, isn’t it? Business as usual, keeping the globe turning – that’s our role and we love it. The Parrot rocks like only a prolonged evisceration of governmental mouthpieces and their court stenographers can. It’s a thankless task making sure that the powers that be retain their authority in all things and patrolling the borders of what is allowed to be said and believed, but somebody’s got to do it. If you’re providing a service, you’ll need to present a united front against the grievances of the public, so you’ll need The Scapegoat. Mistakes and accidents can’t be the company’s fault, so you’ll need to pay someone to be publicly and repeatedly sacked to make it appear as if you’re solving problems and getting better. Lessons will be learned, going forward. The disturbing tale of Bear Factory begins side two and is the real-life story of the murder of one of the singer’s primary-school classmates in the 1970s, and true in every detail. The victim’s body was never found but the killer justifiably imprisoned for life. A more ancient scent of death pervades The Burnet Rose. This ground-hugging plant covers the graves of the victims in a seventeenth-century plague village on the Yorkshire coast to this day, commemorating their sacrifices when all around have forgotten. It’s this particular songwriter’s favourite flower. Orgy of the Ancients describes the intimate intricacies of ageing politicians and the press as they decide whether to go to war. In grotesque scenarios worthy of Caligula, they decide the fates of our children. And it’s not even half the truth. To finish, the songwriter looks back to an admired predecessor, when he sets William Blake’s famous poem London in a groovier setting than we’re used to – in the form of London by Blakelight. If London swings, it’s from the Tyburn tree. Tracks: Invisible Man / Beautiful Launderette / The Parrot / The Scapegoat / Bear Factory / The Burnet Rose / Orgy Of The Ancients / London By Blakelight

Before he co-founded the legendary Sunday afternoon event Body & Soul with fellow New York DJs Danny Krivit and Francois Kevorkian in 1996, Joaquin "Joe" Claussell was the driving force behind Instant House, an eclectic production outift who released a series of uplifting deep house records, several of which were spun by David Mancuso at the 90s iteration of his influential Loft parties.

In 1993, Instant House released their deepest single, Lost Horizons, through Jungle Sounds Recordings. The A-side, ‘Lost Horizons (The Mind Travel Saturday Night Sunday Morning Mix)’ is a seventeen-minute and twenty-second sojourn into the vibrant club sounds of early 90s NYC. Driven by a Latin-accented man-machine beat that marches into infinity, it comes backed by two shorter mixes, ‘Lost Horizons’ and ‘Lost Horizons (Percussion Bonus)’. Twenty-nine years later, Isle of Jura presents an official vinyl and digital reissue of this slow-burning deep cut.

The Instant House story begins in the late 80s at Dance Tracks, an East Village record store established by the businessman, DJ, and graphic designer Stan Hatzakis. Patronised by New York trendsetters like Frankie Knuckles and Larry Levan, Dance Tracks was considered one of the world's best underground dance music retailers.

During the winter of 1991, Stan got together with one of his best customers, Tony Confusione, to make music. A wall street guy by day and a keyboardist by night, Tony was also a serious DJ. Not long after their first recording sessions, they invited another Dance Tracks fixture, Joaquin "Joe" Claussell, to join them in Tony’s state-of-the-art home studio in Long Island. He brought a vibrant, percussive edge to the sample-based tracks Stan and Tony were cooking up. Emboldened, the three DJs began recording together as Instant House. That year, they released the Dance Trax EP.

In 1992, after Instant House had dropped two certified classics, 'Over' and 'Awade', for Jungle Sounds Records, Stan exited the group and sold Dance Tracks to Joe and his business partner, Stefan Prescott. Following Stan's departure, Joe and Tony headed into the studio for a special recording session. “I just remember how powerful the connection was while we were making that record,” explains Joe, recalling the creation of ‘Lost Horizons (The Mind Travel Saturday Night Sunday Morning Mix)’. “It was a very spiritual encounter in the studio.”

While laying out the drum patterns, sound effects, and arrangement, Joe explained the vibe to Tony, who played the lush cosmic chords and an effortless keyboard saxophone line over the top. “That was Tony completely feeling himself,” Joe reflects. “He performed majestically.”

After the release of the Lost Horizons 12”, Joe received a phone call from Cisco International Corp. A plane flight later, he was sitting in their label offices in Tokyo, talking to a senior record executive who wanted to introduce Lost Horizons to Japan. “What they were primarily doing at the time was pressing classical records - we’re talking thousand dollar plus classical reissues - and they wanted to license and distribute Lost Horizons,” Joe remembers. Three years later, Joe and Tony released 'Asking Forgiveness', their final 12” as Instant House, before parting ways with full hearts.

In the context of his career as a DJ, remixer, and producer, Joe is known for long songs and compositions. As Lost Horizons illustrates, he’s carried that impulse with him since his foundational days. “When I produce, I don’t believe in the beginning or endpoint of anything,” Joe explains. “I really despise the rules. To me, that’s not true to the art of creation. I just believe there is a flow in creation. When we were making music in the 90s, we were restricted by format, but that record could have gone on forever.”

The 12” is housed in a full sleeve jacket by Bradley Pinkerton based on the original release design.

Felix Laband’s The Soft White Hand is the masterwork of an artist who expresses himself through musical and artistic collage acting together to reinterpret his sources and to express significant elements of his own personal story.

Released by Munich-based Compost Records, the 14-track album is Laband’s first full-length offering since the critically acclaimed Deaf Safari in 2015. It is heralded by the single “Derek and Me”, and is being pressed on vinyl for distribution globally.

In The Soft White Hand Laband works with source materials that will be familiar to those who know his previous four records – Thin Shoes in June (2001), 4/4 Down the Stairs (2002), Dark Days Exit (2005) and especially Deaf Safari which reached deep into the South Africa scene and its political culture to inspire its vocal and music sampling. However, the disengagement he felt from his homeland during his latest album’s creation – an abiding sense of untethered-ness to place and space, exquisitely rendered in tracks like “Death of a Migrant” – is perceptible in Laband’s desire to illuminate instead aspects of his own life.

“For this album, my source material became almost autobiographical as opposed to African statements I’ve worked with previously,” says the artist. “I have sampled a lot from documentaries from the 80s crack epidemic in impoverished African American communities and believe my work speaks unapologetically for the lost and marginalised, for those who are the forgotten casualties of the war on drugs. In the past, I have had my issues with substance abuse, and I know first-hand about the nightmares and fears, what it feels like to be isolated and abandoned.”

Few artists have managed to air these intimate aspects of their life so luminously as Laband does in tracks like “5 Seconds Ago”, “They Call Me Shorty” and in the strange and meditative “Dreams of Loneliness”. “I’ve been building this weird, autobiographical story using other people talking. It’s kind of humorous but it is also sad and beautiful,” says Laband.

Yet, as in all of Laband’s recorded output, the delineations between emotions are never starkly drawn and The Soft White Hand is also shot through with beauty. Nature appears in recordings made in his garden in the intimate early morning hours, whether as in the calls of the Hadada Ibis and other birdsong in “Prelude” or of the vertical-tail-cocking bird in “Derek and Me”. The last is a wonderful track with Derek Gripper, the South African experimental classical guitarist of international renown, whose 2020 song “Fanta and Felix” imagines a meeting between Fanta Sacko and Laband.

Laband’s eloquence in reinterpreting classical composers such as Beethoven in “We Know Major Tom’s a Junkie” is another thrilling aspect of the new record. “I’ve been properly exploring classical music on this album,” explains Laband, “taking melodies from classical compositions and reinterpreting them”. A fresh quality comes to his work through this sonic adventuring: the tender manipulation of the mundaneness of the computer’s AI voice to reimagine and reinvent iconic lyrics and melodies in strange and unexpected configurations.

The Soft White Hand is Laband’s most cohesive body of work to date. Yet it remains, in its sheer artistic scope, impossible to describe fully. Darkness abuts the gossamer light. A song that summons the sunrise and all the hope of a new day could also be about the final dipping down of the sun that portends a troubled night ahead. Interludes are invitations to expand outwards or shift inwards. Mistakes and “weird fuckups” in the sound are cherished as convincing statements against what Laband calls the “grossness” of perfect sound in modern music.

For this world-leading electronic artist, the boundaries are unfixed. He is inspired by the German Dada artist, Hannah Höch, who memorably declared: “I wish to blur the firm boundaries which we self-certain people tend to delineate around all we can achieve.” His music consequently reflects a primal artistic impulse that is also visible in Laband’s considerable visual art output as seen recently in several solo exhibitions such as that held in the No End Gallery in Johannesburg in 2019 and in the works he produced during his 2018 Nirox Foundation Artists Residency. “My music is always about collage, as is my art,’’ he affirms. “Everything I do is collage. It is a medium I find very interesting because you are taking history and distorting it and changing its meaning and turning it upside down and back to front.” In her book Recollections of My Non-Existence, Rebecca Solnit calls collage “literally a border art”; it is “an art of what happens when two things confront each other or spill onto each other”.

With The Soft White Hand, Laband is confirming his singular ability to achieve this in both art and music, melting the divisions between the two creative disciplines until they become one. He is also affirming his belief that an album of music should be more than a collection of unrelated tracks, but should unfold a fully integrated, cohesive story as in the song cycles of the great classical composers. In doing so, he claims his position as one of the most significant artists working today.

Artist Statement – Felix Laband – August 2022

When the Khmer Rouge took their captives for processing, they identified their class enemies by looking at their hands. If they were sunburned, rough and calloused, they were those of a peasant, a proletarian to be spared. But if they were soft and white, then they were those of a city-dweller, an intellectual or bourgeois, an adversary to be liquidated.

In calling this album The Soft White Hand, I was reflecting on the Cambodian genocide and how it resonates in contemporary South Africa. The apartheid era is over, and gone with it is white political domination. Yet economic and social privilege is still held in soft white hands. But those who grasp it know just how tenuous is their hold, how it singles them out, and my music reflects their subconscious fears, the stress and guilt of clinging on to what others envy and desire.

The soft white hand of the title suggests to me a further image, one that relates to all of postcolonial Africa. In my mind’s eye, I see the soft, duplicitous handshake of the smooth representatives of the superpowers making deals and promising gifts that benefit only them, and not their African dupes.
Yet, soaring above the wailing of sirens sampled from the first day of the invasion of Ukraine, my music is also about love gained and passion lost. It is about the tender caress of a soft white hand that conducts you into a place of dreams to be enfolded by nocturnal melodies.