Cerca:au pair

First trained in his church choir, Print played in R&B bands in high school and later developed a reputation as a standout rapper. On Adventures in Counter-Culture, he experiments with the synths, keyboards, and drum machines that connected the musical dots of those early days.

Print began pursuing his career as a musician in 2001, working on several hip hop projects including his collaborative project Soul Position with DJ/Producer RJD2. Releasing The Unlimited EP & 8,000,000 Stories on Rhymesayers Entertainment with RJ, Blueprint began work in 2004 on what would become his first solo album, 1988. The success of that album allowed him to tour extensively
throughout North America and Europe, before returning home to focus on writing and recording his next album. When he sat down to work on this sophomore effort, Print began with the dark, soulful and sample heavy hip hop of the early 90's, but soon found himself

hitting a creative wall. What shook him loose was a new mission: to create an album that encompassed every facet of music he knew, blurring genre lines and bringing it back home as one cohesive listening experience. The more he worked to pair new found interest in rock & electronic music with his love of hip hop, the more he was able to break down that creative barrier.

Thus began his Adventures in Counter-Culture, a monumental undertaking that would involve reinventing himself as a musician and person. His growing cynicism with the world, his disdain for pop culture, the state of politics, and an apathetic, uninspired society, all worked as fuel to inspire this sophomore album. Moved by the impact that sampling lawsuits were having on the music community, Blueprint also decided to return to his roots and began writing and producing his own original content.

2022 Repress

Originally released in 2005, 'Insen' is the second collaboration album between Alva Noto and Ryuichi Sakamoto and the second installment of V.I.R.U.S.'s five albums series.

Remastered in 2021 in collaboration with Calyx Studio, the album's recordings are accompanied by an unreleased composition titled 'Barco.' Initially composed for Alva Noto and Ryuichi Sakamoto's 2005 'Insen' tour, the audio material used in this piece is based on the subtle sounds of Barco projectors, whose tonalities served as a ground for the artists' live improvisation. ?
In 'Insen', Alva Noto and Ryuichi Sakamoto explore the potential for interaction and tension between electronic and acoustic instrumentation. Across eight compositions, the echoes of the cascading piano combine, collide, and dissolve with the tapestry of digital breakages in sheer vibrancy. This relationship lies at the album's core. It subtly continues Vrioon's calm melancholia, becoming a vessel for all the emotions and memories nourished by the listener. As you hear the opening, lonesome notes of 'Aurora,' you realize that the pair have once again conceded an ambition to embed elaborate disciplines into an archetypal sound of soul-searching beauty.

Isaac Prieto is Mexico-born but Detroit based and that is presumably where he hooked up with the Motor City's assured house auteur Javonette. The pair take a trip through scuffed-up deep house brilliance here with the chattery claps and blurting bass of spaced-out opener 'One Take' before 'Brothers In Rhythm' is a more dance-y cut with pinging kicks and detuned synths stumbling about the mix to make for a brilliant sense of mechanical funk. 'High Energy' brings edgy chord stabs over busted beats and bass and 'Lost & Found' is more kinetic analogue madness with hurried techno hi-hats, spangled pads and punchy kicks all bringing an utterly fresh type of sound.

Re-mastered from the original master tapes.
180 gr vinyl pressed by Optimal in Germany using the Metal Mothers from Pallas.

Facsimile reissue using the original photo by Jean-Pierre Leloir.
Double insert using an original color photo by JP Leloir.
Each record has been visually checked to prevent defects.

Recorded October 22, 1958, Olympia hall, Paris.
Original LP issue: Brunswick 87 903.

“They’d been living in Europe for months. They’d appeared in Cannes and at Knokke (…) yet the only thing missing was the consecration that a great concert in Paris would bring. They won that last battle with astounding brio, in front of an audience of connoisseurs. There were many there who thought modern jazz had never been so well- served in Paris.” (Jazz Magazine). Hard bop had arrived! Hallelujah! On its first French appearance, in July ‘58 at the Cannes Festival – the first and only Cannes jazz festival – the Donald Byrd Quintet had brought the house down. Yet four of its five members were relatively unknown in France… The French knew that the leader had replaced Kenny Dorham in the Jazz Messengers, that Doug Watkins was the Messengers’ bassist, and that pianist Walter Davis Jr. was still only 18 when he’d played with Charlie Parker. As for Art Taylor, even if his name meant something to fans, it was still difficult for people to have a more precise idea of his musical qualities. Only Bobby Jaspar was well-known to Paris audiences, and the tour marked the return of the prodigal son, the musician who’d decided, after setting the Club St. Germain on fire, to try his luck in the States early in 1956 – J.J. Johnson had hired him, and then Miles Davis (for a short spell) before Donald Byrd brought him into the group he was taking to Europe. This new tour would climax at the Olympia theatre during one of the “Jazz Wednesdays” that were organised there, ever since the Jazz At Carnegie Hall” tour – Zoot Sims, JJ. Johnson, Lee Konitz, Phineas Newborn – had inaugurated the series a little earlier. Byrd and his band took pains not to disappoint a Paris audience they knew to be particularly fickle, and they astutely varied the public’s pleasures throughout the evening. The complicity that united the rhythm section – Walter Davis Jr., Doug Watkins and Art Taylor – was much in evidence on Ray’s Idea; mistrusting the traps of the spectacular at all costs, Donald Byrd, producing brilliant inventions on the trumpet, took the lion’s share of the honours on a theme that was then much in fashion, Dear Old Stockholm, adapted from a Swedish traditional song; on Flute Blues, Bobby Jaspar proved he was still a specialist on that instrument, and Paul’s Pal showed that, on tenor, the playing of Sonny Rollins hadn’t gone unnoticed. It must be said that it didn’t have much effect on the discreet lyricism underlying the choruses he played during his “St. Germain” period. The Olympia spectators weren’t sparing in their applause for the five musicians. How else could they have reacted, faced with the fire the band showed during a tune like The Blues Walk? It wouldn’t take much for us to applaud, too, even if it is fifty-five years later…
Text – Alain Tercinet

A new compilation titled Erased Tapes _+ù_¦ö, encompassing a two hour cross-section of the label"s 15-year history including hidden gems and previously unreleased material, will be available on November 4 to coincide with specially curated festivals in London and Berlin. The first offering comes from UK producer Kevin Richard Martin aka The Bug and Japanese voice artist Hatis Noit who share their paranormal first collaborative cut After the Storm amongst other unique pairings such as The Art Ensemble of Chicago featuring Moor Mother, Bell Orchestre interpreted by Colin Stetson, Douglas Dare joined by The London Contemporary Orchestra and Ben Lukas Boysen remixed by Kiasmos. Premiered exclusively via The Wire magazine in form of a free download ahead of their debut live performance at Le Guess Who? Festival 2019 in Utrecht, the track is now finally made available on vinyl and streaming platforms alongside other previously unreleased pieces from electronic producer Ryan Lee West aka Rival Consoles and Icelandic composer Högni. "As a solo vocalist and voice artist, I"d always dreamed of floating and being drowned in a beautiful sonic storm. And then I met Kevin Martin" - Hatis Noit The artwork is composed of the Japanese kanji for "15" - calligraphed by label founder Robert Raths and designed by Munich-based artist Bernd Kuchenbeiser.

With I was born by the sea, Richie Culver brings to a close a period of intense introspection and emotional reckoning with a debut album that serves as both an optimistic statement of intent and a final glance back at the painful places it explores. Following recent work with Blackhaine and Pavel Milyakov, I was born by the sea picks up where Culver’s EP for Italian label Superpang, Post Traumatic Fantasy, leaves off, painting an unabashed portrait of contemporary malaise, detailing a life lived behind closed doors, pinned under the crushing weight of austerity, sapped of the strength to do anything other than gaze out to sea and all the grey possibilities it represents. Where Post Traumatic Fantasy saw Culver returning to his hometown of Hull after a period spent entangled in London’s relentless sprawl, his first full length project reaches further back to his formative years working in a caravan factory and going to raves in and among Hull’s outskirts. Unspooling like a fever dream, I was born by the sea is the anxious clutter of a racing mind spoken clearly, a stark reflection on how it feels to have too many ideas and too much time to act on them.

Though unquestionably a snapshot of a time of significant difficulty, Culver reflects on this period with tender empathy and pitch-black humour, stitching together unflinching observations from England’s neglected corners, ‘there’s more mobility scooter repair shops and bookies than there are bookshops,’ and devastating vignettes of everyday struggle, ‘tears on the tin foil’, with surreal depictions of industrial grit, ‘skimming stones in a small pond by the slaughterhouse’. His DIY approach to production stretches the rough sinew that connects these fragments of memory, a process he describes as using a paired back collection of synths and drum machines to the best of his ability, ‘but to the least of their capabilities,’ wringing out visceral sound with self-taught urgency. During the album’s most impressionistic passages it’s as though Culver has transposed past internal turmoil into powerfully resonant noise, the Sisyphean sonics of ‘Create A Lifestyle Around Your Problems’, which evokes in its concrète clatter and MRI machine barrage the sound of making the same mistake again and again, or the stuttered jumble of ‘Its Hard To Get To Know You,’ its garbled vocal modulation and frayed edges of distortion channeling the paranoia of somebody listening to muffled voices through thin plaster, climbing the walls of their bedroom with the curtains closed, a nervous breakdown in stereo.

In counterpoint to this glides the ever-present spirit of the dance floor, which haunts the record from the moment it is invoked in its first few seconds. Opening onto a sea wall of bright synthesis, the stuttering vocals and bass tone chops of ‘Nervous Energy’ dump us directly into post rave ecstasy, the echoing cry of a voice amplified by loudspeaker carrying the loose energy and surge of crowds moving in darkness. The incessant, dead phone line beep of ‘Pigeon Flesh’ builds to a pulse that suddenly swells into an anxious technoid surge, shapeshifting at lysergic speed into head shrinking audio hallucinations, a descent into the void of the present via machine music hypnosis. Even ‘Its Hard To Get To Know You’ summons the ego death drive of hardcore techno within its scorched textures, flickering indiscernibly between attritional noise and frazzled hardware stomp. Paying homage to both the parties of his youth and a countless succession of Sundays spent offering himself up within Berghain’s hallowed architecture, Culver’s experiments in addressing his formative relationship with rave provide an energetic glimpse at where he might take his sound next.

Between spikes of propulsive energy and grim mood pieces Culver returns to suspended passages of aching, glacial drift, the cold swell of the North Sea, accompanied by some of his heaviest testimonials. The gauzy ebb of ‘Daytime TV,’ its tumbling loops reminiscent of boats bobbing off a distant shore, sees the artist at his most checked out, slumped in front of his television, seven days a week. ‘I used to dream of doing something,’ he admits, ‘anything to get out of this town.’ ‘Love Like An Abscess’ pairs swirling currents of ambient shimmer with violent images of baseball bats lying next to beds and blood-stained mattresses, next to which Culver pleads in a desperate mumble, ‘let our love grow, like a broken abscess.’ Yet it’s with the album’s final word and title track that Culver reveals a glimmer of cautious optimism, a parting gesture of exposition and closure. ‘I knew I had to get away,’ he asserts, ‘so I did and I never looked back.’ What follows builds from a low throb, the flutter of a tiny heartbeat, to a resonant glow, embellished with unfurling synthetic burbles, oil rigs sparkling in the distance, golden light spilling across the sea. In reckoning with the place he had to escape, Richie Culver is now free to look towards the promise of something new, something hopeful.

Johannes Auvinen (Tin Man) and Max Ravitz (Patricia), two devotees in the cult of the TB-303, return to Acid Test with the Celestial Body Music series, a follow up to their 2020 LP Powers Of Ten.

Recorded in Ravitz’s studio in Asheville, NC, Celestial Body Music once again showcases the pair’s penchant for raw yet emotive dance music. With Auvinen’s signature TB-303 programming and Ravitz’s typical melancholic flair, the duo’s styles merge seamlessly over the course of 8 tracks that harken back to the heyday of American techno and house. Following on from Powers of Ten, the pair continue to fix their eyes firmly on the stars, as Celestial Body Music’s song titles conjure visions of listening to Dance Mania 12”s on the ISS. With a tonal palette that features the well-trodden sounds of classic analog hardware like the TR-808, TR-909, TB-303, and SH-101, Ociya demonstrate their ability to breathe new life into these old instruments through thoughtful programming, arrangement, and mixing. This is made all the more significant when considering every song was recorded live to 2-track with no editing over the course of a few days. Sweet and savory both, the new material strikes a perfect balance between emotive sensibility and dance floor appeal.

Johannes Auvinen (Tin Man) and Max Ravitz (Patricia), two devotees in the cult of the TB-303, return to Acid Test with the Celestial Body Music series, a follow up to their 2020 LP Powers Of Ten.

Recorded in Ravitz’s studio in Asheville, NC, Celestial Body Music once again showcases the pair’s penchant for raw yet emotive dance music. With Auvinen’s signature TB-303 programming and Ravitz’s typical melancholic flair, the duo’s styles merge seamlessly over the course of 8 tracks that harken back to the heyday of American techno and house. Following on from Powers of Ten, the pair continue to fix their eyes firmly on the stars, as Celestial Body Music’s song titles conjure visions of listening to Dance Mania 12”s on the ISS. With a tonal palette that features the well-trodden sounds of classic analog hardware like the TR-808, TR-909, TB-303, and SH-101, Ociya demonstrate their ability to breathe new life into these old instruments through thoughtful programming, arrangement, and mixing. This is made all the more significant when considering every song was recorded live to 2-track with no editing over the course of a few days. Sweet and savory both, the new material strikes a perfect balance between emotive sensibility and dance floor appeal.

A meeting of the minds between two Israeli DJs and producers. Adam Ten & Mita Gami release a combined two-tracker in September on Crosstown Rebels, dipping into dark and hypnotising waters while maintaining a club-cut aesthetic.

The pair pen a slow-burning chugger on the title track, merging tones of tech house, progressive house and techno. A high-pitched vocal weave’s throughout, in tandem with a distorted synthline and oddball sound FX—one for a wavey dancefloor. On the flip, Night Shift glistens with emotion as tribal-tinged percussion collides with long, drawn-out piano notes. A cosmic creation that blurs the line between melancholia and warmth.

Adam Ten is a Tel Aviv-born producer and resident DJ of institutional club The Block, located in his home city. Ten is a key artist on the Israeli scene, recognised for his all-night sets that blend a myriad of moods in electronic music. He’s played worldwide, spanning stints in Miami, Cape Town and Mykonos, amongst several other regions, and he’s channelled his compelling sound on labels like Diynamic, Multinotes, Disco Halal and Selador. As a co-founder of the event series TERRA, Ten curates some of the finest nature-orientated parties in Israel. Mita Gami hails from Tel Aviv. A multi-instrumentalist from a young age, he goes beyond the trope of entertainer. Instead, Gami invites his audience into immersive and almost trippy journeys during his performances via a hybrid set-up and enticing energy on-stage. Releases on REALM Records and Diynamic display his metaphysical approach. Beyond producing, Gami co-runs the label Blue Shadow Records and the Sunrise Kingdom area in Midburn Festival, based in the Negev Desert in Israel.

Deron Miller gives his life to the riff. Unrestrained by industry expectations and genre limitations, the boundlessly prolific guitarist and voice behind multiple beloved projects is best known as the founder, frontman, and songwriter in CKY. His authentic and effortlessly hooky heavy rock obsession returns with 96 BITTER BEINGS. Reinvigorated and ready to rumble all over again, Miller roars back with the same reverence for riffage that made underground hits out of CKY anthems like “Flesh Into Gear,” “Escape from Hellview,” and “Disengage the Simulator” from 1998 till 2011.

The familiar warmth, feel, groove, and unapologetic honesty which drove the song “96 Quite Bitter Beings” to 54 million streams (on Spotify alone) permeates the pair of albums unleashed by 96BB.

A successful crowdfunding campaign saw Miller, guitarist Kenneth Hunter, bassist Shaun Luera and Shaun’s brother, drummer Tim, conjure up 2018’s Camp Pain in limited release. North American and European touring followed, wrapping up shortly before the COVID-19 shutdowns.

“After CKY and a short break, I decided to continue, without changing the sound,” Miller explains. “Because that’s what I do. It’s what I love to do and what people say I do well. All of the guys who got in the band with me are great musicians. And each of them is hungry. They have priorities and ambitions about being in a rock band, no matter the grim state of pop music out there. If we can bring rock and metal back to the mainstream, in some way, that’s the dream.”

In 2022, 96 BITTER BEINGS unleash the long-awaited Synergy Restored, 11 songs of relentless power and vibe. Four-on-the-floor, fuzzy and visceral, proper rock n’ roll made by an actual band, rather than a bunch of overprocessed samples and otherwise stale shenanigans. Songs like “Vaudeville’s Revenge,” “90 Car Pile-Up,” and “Wish Me Dead” offer vivid reminders of the truth-telling prowess of guitars, bass, and drums. Miller is on fire, weaponizing the same knack for memorable musical epiphanies behind projects like Foreign Objects, World Under Blood, and CKY.
Miller co-founded Foreign Objects and later Camp Kill Yourself (a name born of his love of VHS slasher classics) in West Chester, Pennsylvania, in the ‘90s. Written by Miller, 1999’s Volume 1 appealed to metalheads, skaters, stoners, and punks. The album led to a stint on Warped Tour and a deal with Island Def Jam Music Group, which issued Infiltrate•Destroy•Rebuild• in 2002. Axl Rose chose CKY to support the ill-fated Chinese Democracy tour, and they also played with Metallica.
An Answer Can Be Found followed in 2005, producing the Billboard Mainstream Rock Top 40 single “Familiar Realm.” Extensive touring with Avenged Sevenfold and the like-minded Clutch followed. Carver City, in 2009, would prove to be Miller’s last album with the group he created and led. Across the four albums, Miller indulged his love of everything from ‘80s thrash metal to doom, as CKY blended high-octane ruckus with occasional bursts of Moog synths and cinematic storytelling.
Miller never stopped creating, with a handful of full albums written and released, a foray into horror movies, and parenting three children with his wife, scream queen actress Felissa Rose. Like Galactic Prey, the most recent Foreign Objects album, the 96BB records were recorded and produced by Miller and Hunter at Manifest Productions. Camp Pain was explicitly made for diehard fans who supported the creation of both albums through 96BB’s Indiegogo campaign. Synergy Restored was always intended for wider release, which it sees now via Nuclear Blast.
“I want my work taken seriously. I thank God every day that I was never overexposed, or even exposed enough commercially, to where I’m resigned to a specific moment,” Miller says. “I would rather have my self-respect, the respect of the audience, and a dedicated cult following.”

“Every time I go out, I see Nirvana, Metallica, and Misfits t-shirts. These kids may not know the music, but at least they are displaying a visual interest,” he adds. “Corporations spend millions of dollars promoting certain styles of music, but history proves that true rock will always sneak in.”

Repressed finally. Sometimes a single is released that reaches such dizzying heights of success that it becomes a pinnacle of the decade they're indelibly tied to. "Groove Is In The Heart" by dance-house trio Deee-Lite is one such single. The infectiously quirky, and eminently danceable track is prominently based around samples of "Bring Down The Birds" by Herbie Hancock, and "Get Up" by Vernon Burch, among many others, (Courtesy of dual producers DJs Dmitry and Towa Tei) paired with top-tier guest contributions from JB's veterans Maceo Parker and Fred Wesley, background vocals from Parliament-Funkadelic's own Bootsy Collins, and even a guest rap from Q-Tip, not to mention frontwoman Lady Miss Kier's own siren-like vocals. All disparate and disconnected elements, but ones that would come together to form dancehall greatness, and chart-topping success worldwide for Deee-Lite. "Groove Is In The Heart" managed to reach #4 on the Billboard Hot 100 chart, but excelled at its best on the Hot Dance Club Play chart, where it reached to the #1 spot. On top of its success in America it was a smash internationally, climbing the heights of the charts in the UK, Canada, Australia, and a variety of other countries. It remained in heavy rotation for much of 1990 on MTV as well. As the decades went on, "Groove Is In The Heart" would be ranked among the greatest dance tracks of all time, as well as one of the greatest songs of the 1990s by VH1, Pitchfork, Buzzfeed, and many more. "Groove Is In The Heart" was a potent single for Deee-Lite to lead with, but the album bearing it was nothing to slouch at either. The group's debut record, 1990's World Clique was released to major commercial and critical success, owing just as much to its addictive hybrid of seductive retro aesthetics, modern dancefloor flair, and esoteric, socially conscious messaging, on the back of celebratory club staples like "Power Of Love", "Good Beat", "E.S.P.", and of course "Groove Is In The Heart." World Clique would reach top 20 charts in the US, UK, and Canada in sales, as well as earn rave reviews from NME, Chicago Sun-Times, Rolling Stone, and Slant Magazine, who called it an "essential pop album." A1. Good Beat A2. Power Of Love A3. Try Me On…I’m Very You A4. Smile On A5. What Is Love? B1. World Clique B2. E.S.P. B3. Groove Is In The Heart B4. Who Was That? B5. Deep Ending

Freedom is both an integral and multi-layered topic for improvised music, describing its mechanics, aesthetics, and values and often an underlying political dimension as well. In the case of free jazz specifically, the word carries additional weight given the music's deep connection to the black liberation movement of the 1960's and 70's.

The passionate and unclassifiable work of Calgary-based improviser Jairus Sharif embraces each of these definitions of freedom and others, albeit strictly on its own personal and idiosyncratic terms. Since early 2020, the 34 year-old autodidact has been generating a steady stream of homespun solo recordings that forge unprecedented connections between hip-hop abstraction, cosmic skronk, outsider jazz, and staunch post-punk DIY ethos.

Leading up to the pandemic, Sharif's immersion in spiritual and exploratory jazz had culminated in him deciding to purchase an alto saxophone. Unbeknownst to him this instrument would be a catalyst for him to discover his own ardently individualistic artistic voice.

Prior to that point, he had always been somewhat of a solitary musical traveler. In 2002, he acquired his first instrument—a pair of Technics 1200s — but struggled to find local collaborators that had equal investment in hip hop culture. Ultimately, Sharif picked up the guitar, turning to the resilient local punk community, that had also nurtured both of his mothers some time earlier.

As Black Lives Matter gained momentum in the wake of George Floyd's murder, Sharif was suddenly flooded with an acute awareness of his own identity. It compelled him to zealously plunge headlong into open-ended spontaneous solo creation. Water & Tools, his strange and stirring debut for Toronto's Telephone Explosion Records (home to full-lengths from the likes of Brodie West's Eucalyptus, Mas Aya, and Joseph Shabason), offers a glimpse into this ongoing hermetic journey.

As Sharif dedicated himself to uncovering his own deeper musical truths, he assembled a home studio in his basement, cobbling together a drum kit from bits his bandmate had left at his house pre-pandemic, chaining effects together and outfitting the entire space with microphones. Somewhere between the chaos of child's treehouse and the tidy import of a shrine, this space (pictured on the album's back cover) consecrated his own imagination. He laid it out to maximize access to any and every tool in his arsenal, providing him a freedom to explore that he had never permitted himself to consummate before.

Within this cozy private universe, his recent purchase—the saxophone—assumed new meaning. It furnished a tangible connection to the black radicalism that mobilized free jazz, but also something far more personal. From a technical standpoint, the instrument was completely unfamiliar to him, yet rather than this being a hindrance to Sharif, his inexperience opened fruitful path forward, unencumbered by preconceptions. Resolving to shirk formal training, convention, and build his own understanding of it from scratch, allowed him to access his most raw, fundamental creative impulses. The Saxophone's inseverable bond with breath compounded this effect, echoing revelatory discoveries he had been making about breathing through yoga, research, and psychotherapy. Of course, the parallels with BLM's harrowing rallying cry—“I can't breathe”—were not lost on him either.

Water & Tools is a dense, contradictory statement with a blustery surface that shelters a soulful heart. It's generous music, exuding profound vulnerability—grappling with the loss of one his mothers, Lisa—all the while brimming with electric wide-eyed wonder. Almost every one of the nine pieces seems to carry some semblance of a groove, while remaining completely untethered from pulse. For Sharif, this collection is an expression of newfound lucidity, however for the listener his sonic concoctions act as powerful psychotropics. At points, there's a timelessness that's conveyed through the music's processional, ritualistic tenor, and yet there's an endless amount of wild, futuristic detail waiting to unspool at any given moment. Similarly, while this recording emerges from Sharif's private pilgrimage and personal emancipation, he also leaves room for collaboration. Woven throughout Sharif's one-man-ensemble textures, one finds Maxmilian Turnbull (of Badge Epoque, U.S. Girls, and Cosmic Range infamy) providing sundry keyboards and treatments, as well as his mixing skills.

Whether conjuring effusive psychedelia or plumbing introspective depths, the music that Jairus Sharif produces is singular, visceral, and wondrously unpredictable. Water & Tools sketches a raw, firsthand account of his nascent explorations within his own unbridled imagination.

FULL PLATE presents: the 10th Anniversary edition of the debut full-length from Qwazaar & Batsauce - pressed on wax for the 1st time ever! Originally released in 2011 on Chicago's Galapagos4 label, 'Bat Meets Blaine' features Onry Ozzborn of Dark Time Sunshine, KP of The Pacifics, Denizen Kane of Typical Cats, Offwhyte, DJ Bizkid & Lady Daisey. Initially available on CD only, this dueling 'Red Meets Black' colored vinyl edition is the proper treatment to celebrate a decade of an indie underground classic.
It was around 2010 when Qwazaar, hailing from Chicago’s celebrated rap supergroup, Typical Cats connected with the up & coming beatmaker, Batsauce - who was making noise in a rap group called The Smile Rays helmed by Paten Locke, and producing for icons such as George Clinton. The two auteurs met in Europe on tour and formed an instant chemistry, rapidly amassing a formidable catalog of music - a pair of mad scientists, working feverishly in Bat's Berlin abode. What culminated from those sessions was a collection of EPs (Style Be the King, Stress Chasers) and the capstone LP, Bat Meets Blaine - the prelude to their 2021 release, Stoned Giant.


TRACKLIST: 1. A Choice 2. I Know 3. What Love 4. Chop Em Down 5. Eye to the Sky 6. Never Weaker feat. ONRY of Dark Time Sunshine, Offwhyte & DJ Bizkid 7. Surrealism feat. Lady Daisey 8. Power 9. If it Seems Wrong 10. I'm Gone 11. A Feeling feat. KP of The Pacifics & Denizen Kane of Typical Cats 12. The Dream 13. Til it's Done 14. Thank You

blue marbled vinyl

One of the most revered and respected artists to ascend in the immediate wake of the Autonomic wave - Sam KDC's innate understanding of depth and emotive layering has marked his path as one that leaves an indelible impression.

While his innovative adventures with Grey Area and the outer edges of Techno continue unabated, a collaboration with like-minded artist Flaminia has drawn Sam back to his original home in 170bpm.

Flaminia is a versatile and extremely skilled musician who has lent her talents to luscious dark ambient, and experimental Techno and continues to work on rediscovery and innovation. In our view, Flaminia is one of the more interesting artists currently rising in prominence in the electronic music scene.

Sam and Flaminia are an apt pairing and Grounding brings out a new side to both of them. Textures are applied with considered discernment, never overdone, and always embellishing the delectable grooves. Grounding has a truly ethereal, almost mystical overlay, while also brandishing dance-floor potency - a now inherent skill both artists have spent years assimilating into their construction processes.

As a duo they embrace both sides of the coin, drums and guitar, chaos and order, male and female, ying and yang, the angel and the devil. They are more than the sum of both counterparts though, making for a maximalist auditory experience. PIKA brings her skills of mystifying performance to the table, all free-drum bluster and vocals veering between shrine maiden and wild spirit. Kawabata's guitar-work moves from a roar to a whisper, a yell to a sob, he's working on the same canvas of extremes. The aim of their unity is to write truly celestial hymns for the outer world and odes of love for the inner cosmic context.
 
No strangers to one another, the pair have not only gigged together with their respective bands but also recorded together, when these two outfits temporarily fused in 2005 to become Acid Mothers Afrirampo (releasing an album of the same name). Two years later they distilled their collaboration, all other players being stripped away to leave the core of Pikacyu's manic drums and pop vocal, and Makoto's schizoid guitar conjurings. In 2011 they spent five weeks touring the US and their first album, 'OM Sweet Home: We Are Shining Stars From Darkside', which was released by the esteemed UK label of all things heavy and brilliant, Riot Season. Last year they spent two weeks touring through Europe whilst writing a new album suffused with the outreaching sound and message of their impulsive live performances. This new album is entitled 'Galaxilympics' and will be released by Upset The Rhythm on August 4th on LP and CD.
'Galaxilympics' is an album of contrasts, so much colour, so much shade! 'Space Sumo' kicks off the record in explosive style. Pikacyu's drums jitter, crash and stumble, but steadfastly refuse to groove. Makoto attacks his guitar, cloaking himself in reverb to produce a wall-of-sound, alternating between melody and noise. 'Funifunikonefuni' follows with it's frenzied take on pop music, bubbling with energy and PIKA's multiple vocal layers. 'I'll Forgive' is chant-like in its devotion to following the tumbling melody line of the song even to absurd and unpredictable dimensions. 'Pika Mako Hall' is a more serene affair, with whispered echoes and guitar drones swirling amongst bursts of rapid sequencer ambience. 'Castle Of Sand' picks up on this more spacious approach with slowly developing programmed electronics, before the title track erupts with gurgling synths, soaring guitar trails and PIKA's most searching vocal yet.
 
The album concludes in reflective manner with the suitably titled 'Sayonownara', a song as much in the present as it is in the act of saying farewell. It's positively elegiac with washes of cymbal and deep acres of guitar drone for the first five minutes before PIKA's drums take things up a gear and into more psychedelic out-rock terrain. This insurgence eventually peaks and the album melts away to silence. PIKACYU-MAKOTO have made an album that takes you on a trip into your very soul before emerging once more at the edge of another galaxy. 'Galaxilympics' is a triumph of opposites united, it enjoys walking out into the unknown, but it's also a portal into the very real world of two musicians who find peace and semblance through their interaction. Hymns and odes to one side, this is a giant album of future-facing song and noise, where better to find harmony enthroned

Jan Anderzén and his partners celebrate the transcendental power of ecstatic music. Alas Rattoisaa Virtaa is the first Kemialliset Ystävät album in four years. It is the result of chance enhancing online collaboration methods, desire to get lost in the sound archives and the high art of meticulous editing. The album title is from visions of rivers running down from Heart of Darkness to the City of Joyful Noise. If contemporary music is a high speed train passing by then KY's music would be an orgy of light under a railway bridge.

A band member Lars Mattila experiences the music of Alas Rattoisaa Virtaa in spatial terms:

"There are worlds accessed only through our auditory system. I hear a Wunderkammer of freestanding sound objects. Rhythms like sequences of seemingly random stuff laid out on the forest floor: a pair of thrones, a Henry Moore sculpture, a watermelon, two thrones, a Moore sculpture, a melon... I trust the path to go on even if I can't see behind the hill. There's motion, wether it be drunk driving or super human rapid eye movement. The sheer amount of detail makes it impossible to take everything in at once. One's perception and shifting focus reshape the experience on each listen. I remember my visit to Cappella Palatina in Palermo where Normann architecture, Arabic arches and Byzantine dome form a harmonious whole. Various cultural and spiritual influences are recognized as equals. The sense of space also brings to mind the end scene of The Lawnmower Man when the dude is trying to escape the virtual world."

As the sun sets on a quaint East Nashville house, a young man bares a piece of his soul. Facing the camera, sporting a silky suit jacket/shirt/slacks/fingerless gloves ensemble that announces "singer" before he's even opened his mouth, Lee Tracy Johnson settles onto his stage, the front yard. He sways to the dirge-like drum machine pulse of a synth-soaked slow jam, extends his arms as if gaining his balance, and croons in affecting, fragile earnest, "I need your love… oh baby…"

Dogs in the yard next door begin barking. A mysterious cardboard robot figure, beamed in from galaxies unknown and affixed to a tree, is less vocal. Lee doesn't acknowledge either's presence. He's busy feeling it, arms and hands gesticulating. His voice rises in falsetto over the now-quiet dogs, over the ambient noise from the street that seeps into the handheld camcorder's microphone, over the recording of his own voice played back from a boombox off-camera. After six minutes the single, continuous shot ends. In this intimate creative universe there are no re-takes. There are many more music videos to shoot, and as Lee later puts it, "The first time you do it is actually the best. Because you can never get that again. You expressing yourself from within."

"I Need Your Love" dates from a lost heyday. From some time in the '80s or early '90s, when Lee Tracy (as he was known in performance) and his music partner/producer/manager Isaac Manning committed hours upon hours of their sonic and visual ideas to tape. Embracing drum machines and synthesizers – electronics that made their personal futurism palpable – they recorded exclusively at home, live in a room into a simple cassette deck. Soul, funk, electro and new wave informed their songs, yet Lee and Isaac eschewed the confinement of conventional categories and genres, preferring to let experimentation guide them.

"Anytime somebody put out a new record they had the same instruments or the same sound," explains Isaac. "So I basically wanted to find something that's really gonna stand out away from all of the rest of 'em." Their ethos meant that every idea they came up with was at least worth trying: echoed out half-rapped exhortations over frantic techno-style beats, gospel synth soul, modal electro-funk, oddball pop reinterpretations, emo AOR balladry, nods to Prince and the Fat Boys, or arrangements that might collapse mid-song into a mess of arcade game-ish blips before rallying to reach the finish line. All of it conjoined by consistent tape hiss, and most vitally, Lee's chameleonic voice, which managed to wildly shape shift and still evoke something sincere – whether toggling between falsetto and tenor exalting Jesus's return, or punctuating a melismatic romantic adlib with a succinct, "We all know how it feels to be alone."

"People think we went to a studio," says Isaac derisively. "We never went to no studio. We didn't have the money to go to no studio! We did this stuff at home. I shot videos in my front yard with whatever we could to get things together." Sometimes Isaac would just put on an instrumental record, be it "Planet Rock" or "Don't Cry For Me Argentina" (from Evita), press "record," and let Lee improvise over it, yielding peculiar love songs, would-be patriotic anthems, or Elvis Presley or Marilyn Monroe tributes. Technical limitations and a lack of professional polish never dissuaded them. They believed they were onto something.

"That struggle," Isaac says, "made that sound sound good to me."

In the parlance of modern music criticism Lee and Isaac's dizzying DIY efforts would inevitably be described as "outsider." But "outsider" carries the burden of untold additional layers of meaning if you're Black and from the South, creating on a budget, and trying to get someone, anyone within the country music capital of the world to take your vision seriously. "What category should we put it in?" Isaac asks rhetorically. "I don't know. All I know is feeling. I ain't gonna name it nothing. It's music. If it grabs your soul and touch your heart that's what it basically is supposed to do."

=

Born in 1963, the baby boy of nine siblings, Lee Tracy spent his earliest years living amidst the shotgun houses on Nashville's south side. "We was poor, man!" he says, recalling the outhouse his family used for a bathroom and the blocks of ice they kept in the kitchen to chill perishables. "But I actually don't think I really realized I was in poverty until I got grown and started thinking about it." Lee's mom worked at the Holiday Inn; his dad did whatever he had to do, from selling fruit from a horse drawn cart to bootlegging. "We didn't have much," Lee continues, "but my mother and my father got us the things we needed, the clothes on our back." By the end of the decade with the city's urban renewal programs razing entire neighborhoods to accommodate construction of the Interstate, the family moved to Edgehill Projects. Lee remembers music and art as a constant source of inspiration for he and his brothers and sisters – especially after seeing the Jackson 5 perform on Ed Sullivan. "As a small child I just knew that was what I wanted to do."

His older brother Don began musically mentoring him, introducing Lee to a variety of instruments and sounds. "He would never play one particular type of music, like R&B," says Lee. "I was surrounded by jazz, hard rock and roll, easy listening, gospel, reggae, country music; I mean I was a sponge absorbing all of that." Lee taught himself to play drums by beating on cardboard boxes, gaining a rep around the way for his timekeeping, and his singing voice. Emulating his favorites, Earth Wind & Fire and Cameo, he formed groups with other kids with era-evocative band names like Concept and TNT Connection, and emerged as the leader of disciplined rehearsals. "I made them practice," says Lee. "We practiced and practiced and practiced. Because I wanted that perfection." By high school the most accomplished of these bands would take top prize in a prominent local talent show. It was a big moment for Lee, and he felt ready to take things to the next level. But his band-mates had other ideas.

"I don't know what happened," he says, still miffed at the memory. "It must have blew they mind after we won and people started showing notice, because it's like everybody quit! I was like, where the hell did everybody go?" Lee had always made a point of interrogating prospective musicians about their intentions before joining his groups: were they really serious or just looking for a way to pick up girls? Now he understood even more the importance of finding a collaborator just as committed to the music as he was.

=

Isaac Manning had spent much of his life immersed in music and the arts – singing in the church choir with his family on Nashville's north side, writing, painting, dancing, and working various gigs within the entertainment industry. After serving in the armed forces, in the early '70s he ran The Teenage Place, a music and performance venue that catered to the local youth. But he was forced out of town when word of one of his recreational routines created a stir beyond the safe haven of his bohemian circles.

"I was growing marijuana," Isaac explains. "It wasn't no business, I was smoking it myself… I would put marijuana in scrambled eggs, cornbread and stuff." His weed use originated as a form of self-medication to combat severe tooth pain. But when he began sharing it with some of the other young people he hung out with, some of who just so happened to be the kids of Nashville politicians, the cops came calling. "When I got busted," he remembers, "they were talking about how they were gonna get rid of me because they didn't want me saying nothing about they children because of the politics and stuff. So I got my family, took two raggedy cars, and left Nashville and went to Vegas."

Out in the desert, Isaac happened to meet Chubby Checker of "The Twist" fame while the singer was gigging at The Flamingo. Impressed by Isaac's zeal, Checker invited him to go on the road with him as his tour manager/roadie/valet. The experience gave Isaac a window into a part of the entertainment world he'd never encountered – a glimpse of what a true pop act's audience looked like. "Chubby Checker, none of his shows were played for Black folks," he remembers. "All his gigs were done at high-class white people areas." Returning home after a few years with Chubby, Isaac was properly motivated to make it in Music City. He began writing songs and scouting around Nashville for local talent anywhere he could find it with an expressed goal: "Find someone who can deliver your songs the way you want 'em delivered and make people feel what you want them to feel."

One day while walking through Edgehill Projects Isaac heard someone playing the drums in a way that made him stop and take notice. "The music was so tight, just the drums made me feel like, oh I'm-a find this person," he recalls. "So I circled through the projects until I found who it was.

"That's how I met him – Lee Tracy. When I found him and he started singing and stuff, I said, ohhh, this is somebody different."

=

Theirs was a true complementary partnership: young Lee possessed the raw talent, the older Isaac the belief. "He's really the only one besides my brother and my family that really seen the potential in me," says Lee. "He made me see that I could do it."

Isaac long being a night owl, his house also made for a fertile collaborative environment – a space where there always seemed to be a new piece of his visual art on display: paintings, illustrations, and dolls and figures (including an enigmatic cardboard robot). Lee and Issac would hang out together and talk, listen to music, conjure ideas, and smoke the herb Isaac had resumed growing in his yard. "It got to where I could trust him, he could trust me," Isaac says of their bond. They also worked together for hours on drawings, spreading larges rolls of paper on the walls and sketching faces with abstract patterns and imagery: alien-like beings, tri-horned horse heads, inverted Janus-like characters where one visage blurred into the other.

Soon it became apparent that they didn't need other collaborators; self-sufficiency was the natural way forward. At Isaac's behest Lee, already fed up with dealing with band musicians, began playing around with a poly-sonic Yamaha keyboard at the local music store. "It had everything on it – trumpet, bass, drums, organ," remembers Lee. "And that's when I started recording my own stuff."

The technology afforded Lee the flexibility and independence he craved, setting him on a path other bedroom musicians and producers around the world were simultaneously following through the '80s into the early '90s. Saving up money from day jobs, he eventually supplemented the Yamaha Isaac had gotten him with Roland and Casio drum machines and a Moog. Lee was living in an apartment in Hillside at that point caring for his dad, who'd been partially paralyzed since early in life. In the evenings up in his second floor room, the music put him in a zone where he could tune out everything and lose himself in his ideas.

"Oh I loved it," he recalls. "I would really experiment with the instruments and use a lot of different sound effects. I was looking for something nobody else had. I wanted something totally different. And once I found the sound I was looking for, I would just smoke me a good joint and just let it go, hit the record button." More potent a creative stimulant than even Isaac's weed was the holistic flow and spontaneity of recording. Between sessions at Isaac's place and Lee's apartment, their volume of output quickly ballooned.

"We was always recording," says Lee. "That's why we have so much music. Even when I went to Isaac's and we start creating, I get home, my mind is racing, I gotta start creating, creating, creating. I remember there were times when I took a 90-minute tape from front to back and just filled it up."

"We never practiced," says Isaac. "See, that was just so odd about the whole thing. I could relate to him, and tell him about the songs I had ideas for and everything and stuff. And then he would bring it back or whatever, and we'd get together and put it down." Once the taskmaster hell bent on rehearsing, Lee had flipped a full 180. Perfection was no longer an aspiration, but the enemy of inspiration.

"I seen where practicing and practicing got me," says Lee. "A lot of musicians you get to playing and they gotta stop, they have to analyze the music. But while you analyzing you losing a lot of the greatness of what you creating. Stop analyzing what you play, just play! And it'll all take shape."

=

"I hope you understood the beginning of the record because this was invented from a dream I had today… (You tell me, I'll tell you, we'll figure it out together)" – Lee Tracy and Isaac Manning, "Hope You Understand"

Lee lets loose a maniacal cackle when he acknowledges that the material that he and Isaac recorded was by anyone's estimation pretty out there. It's the same laugh that commences "Hope You Understand" – a chaotic transmission that encapsulates the duality at the heart of their music: a stated desire to reach people and a compulsion to go as leftfield as they saw fit.

"We just did it," says Lee. "We cut the music on and cut loose. I don't sit around and write. I do it by listening, get a feeling, play the music, and the lyrics and stuff just come out of me."

The approach proved adaptable to interpreting other artists' material. While recording a cover of Whitney Houston's pop ballad "Saving All My Love For You," Lee played Whitney's version in his headphones as he laid down his own vocals – partially following the lyrics, partially using them as a departure point. The end result is barely recognizable compared with the original, Lee and Isaac having switched up the time signature and reinvented the melody along the way towards morphing a slick mainstream radio standard into something that sounds solely their own.

"I really used that song to get me started," says Lee. "Then I said, well I need something else, something is missing. Something just came over me. That's when I came up with 'Is It What You Want.'"

The song would become the centerpiece of Lee and Isaac's repertoire. Pushed along by a percolating metronomic Rhythm King style beat somewhere between a military march and a samba, "Is It What You Want" finds Lee pleading the sincerity of his commitment to a potential love interest embellished by vocal tics and hiccups subtlely reminiscent of his childhood hero MJ. Absent chord changes, only synth riffs gliding in and out like apparitions, the song achieves a lingering lo-fi power that leaves you feeling like it's still playing, somewhere, even after the fade out.

"I don't know, it's like a real spiritual song," Lee reflects. "But it's not just spiritual. To me the more I listen to it it's like about everything that you do in your everyday life, period. Is it what you want? Do you want a car or you don't want a car? Do you want Jesus or do you want the Devil? It's basically asking you the question. Can't nobody answer the question but you yourself."

In 1989 Lee won a lawsuit stemming from injuries sustained from a fight he'd gotten into. He took part of the settlement money and with Isaac pressed up "Saving All My Love For You" b/w "Is It What You Want" as a 45 single. Isaac christened the label One Chance Records. "Because that's all we wanted," he says with a laugh, "one chance."

Isaac sent the record out to radio stations and major labels, hoping for it to make enough noise to get picked up nationally. But the response he and Lee were hoping for never materialized. According to Isaac the closest the single got to getting played on the radio is when a disk jock from a local station made a highly unusual announcement on air: "The dude said on the radio, 107.5 – 'We are not gonna play 'Is It What You Want.' We cracked up! Wow, that's deep.

"It was a whole racist thing that was going on," he reflects. "So we just looked over and kept on going. That was it. That was about the way it goes… If you were Black and you were living in Nashville and stuff, that's the way you got treated." Isaac already knew as much from all the times he'd brought he and Lee's tapes (even their cache of country music tunes) over to Music Row to try to drum up interest to no avail.

"Isaac, he really worked his ass off," says Lee. "He probably been to every record place down on Music Row." Nashville's famed recording and music business corridor wasn't but a few blocks from where Lee grew up. Close enough, he remembers, for him to ride his bike along its back alleys and stumble upon the occasional random treasure, like a discarded box of harmonicas. Getting in through the front door, however, still felt a world away.

"I just don't think at the time our music fell into a category for them," he concedes. "It was before its time."

=

Lee stopped making music some time in the latter part of the '90s, around the time his mom passed away and life became increasingly tough to manage. "When my mother died I had a nervous breakdown," he says, "So I shut down for a long time. I was in such a sadness frame of mind. That's why nobody seen me. I had just disappeared off the map." He fell out of touch with Isaac, and in an indication of just how bad things had gotten for him, lost track of all the recordings they'd made together. Music became a distant memory.

Fortunately, Isaac kept the faith. In a self-published collection of his poetry – paeans to some of his favorite entertainment and public figures entitled Friends and Dick Clark – he'd written that he believed "music has a life of its own." But his prescience and presence of mind were truly manifested in the fact that he kept an archive of he and Lee's work. As perfectly imperfect as "Is It What You Want" now sounds in a post-Personal Space world, Lee and Isaac's lone official release was in fact just a taste. The bulk of the Is It What You Want album is culled from the pair's essentially unheard home recordings – complete songs, half-realized experiments, Isaac's blue monologues and pronouncements et al – compiled, mixed and programmed in the loose and impulsive creative spirit of their regular get-togethers from decades ago. The rest of us, it seems, may have finally caught up to them.

On the prospect of at long last reaching a wider audience, Isaac says simply, "I been trying for a long time, it feels good." Ever the survivor, he adds, "The only way I know how to make it to the top is to keep climbing. If one leg break on the ladder, hey, you gotta fix it and keep on going… That's where I be at. I'll kill death to make it out there."

For Lee it all feels akin to a personal resurrection: "It's like I was in a tomb and the tomb was opened and I'm back… Man, it feels so great. I feel like I'm gonna jump out of my skin." Success at this stage of his life, he realizes, probably means something different than what it did back when he was singing and dancing in Isaac's front yard. "What I really mean by 'making it,'" he explains isn't just the music being heard but, "the story being told."

Occasionally Lee will pull up "Is It What You Want" on YouTube on his phone, put on his headphones, and listen. He remembers the first time he heard his recorded voice. How surreal it was, how he thought to himself, "Is that really me?" What would he say to that younger version of himself now?

"I would probably tell myself, hang in there, don't give up. Keep striving for the goal. And everything will work out."

Despite what's printed on the record label, sometimes you do get more than one chance.

Greg Puciato, the enigmatic singer known for his diverse list of projects, from the incendiary The Dillinger Escape Plan to the brutalist electro-pop outfit The Black Queen and the unabashedly thrashy Killer Be Killed, releases his debut solo album, Child Soldier: Creator of God this Autumn via Federal Prisoner. The Los Angeles-based singer premiered the single “Fire For Water” on BBC Radio 1’s Rock Show with Daniel P. Carter and followed with the debut of a video for the three-minute track via Revolver. The video was edited and directed by Puciato and fine artist Jesse Draxler, Puciato’s Federal Prisoner co-founder. Puciato played all of the instruments on the song with the exception of drums, which were done by Chris Pennie (the last original material the pair worked on together was The Dillinger Escape Plan’s 2004 Miss Machine), who also contributed additional programming. “I started writing in May or so of 2019, for what I thought would be the next Black Queen album, except that’s not at all what came out. So, just like with everything else that’s been born from necessity, it felt like the right time to create a home for anything that I do that didn’t fit neatly under any other existing roof. The misfits needed a place to go,” explains Puciato about releasing his first solo album.

Surprise Chef’s music is based on evoking mood; their vivid arrangements utilize time and space to build soundscapes that invite the listener into their world. The quintet’s distinct sound pulls from 70s film scores, the funkier side of jazz, and the samples that form the foundation of hip hop. They push the boundaries of instrumental soul and funk with their own approach honed by countless hours in the studio, studying the masters, and perhaps most importantly, the “tyranny of distance” that dictates a unique perspective to their music. Hailing from just outside of Melbourne, Australia their first two albums, All News Is Good News and Daylight Savings amassed a die-hard fanbase and brought their sound from their home studio to every corner of the globe. The band is now signed to Big Crown Records, joining a lineage of contemporary and classic sounds that have influenced Surprise Chef’s music since their formation in 2017. Surprise Chef is Lachlan Stuckey on guitar, Jethro Curtin on keys, Carl Lindeberg on bass, Andrew Congues on drums, and Hudson Whitlock—the latest member who does it all from percussion to composing to producing. Their self proclaimed "moody shades of instrumental jazz-funk" have a bit of everything: punchy drums, infectious keys, rhythm guitar you might hear on a Studio One record, and flute lines that could be from a Blue Note session. But when you step back and take in the entirety of their sound and approach, you'll hear and see a group greater than the sum of its parts. In many ways Surprise Chef embodies the idiom "the benefits of limits." They were limited in that there weren't many people making or talking about instrumental jazz/soul/funk in Southeast Australia, let alone putting out records. This left them to develop their sound and approach in a kind of creative isolation where a small circle of friends and like-minded musicians fed off each other. "Being in Australia, being so far away, we only get glimpses and glances of this music’s origins," Stuckey says. "But hearing a label like Big Crown was one of the first times we realized you could make fresh, new soul music that wasn't super retro or just nostalgic." This approach is on full display throughout their new album Education & Recreation. Tracks like “Velodrome” pair chunky drums with an earworm synth line that has all the making of something you would find on an Ultimate Breaks & Beats compilation while numbers like “Iconoclasts” show their knack for tasteful use of space. From the crushing intro of “Suburban Breeze” to the floaty mellow bop of “Spring’s Theme” Surprise Chef has weaved together an album that takes you through peaks and valleys of emotion and provides a vivid soundtrack that will pull you deeper into your imagination. There is a beauty in the vast space for interpretation of instrumental music and they are adding a modern classic to the canon with this new album. Turn on the record and enjoy the ride, wherever it may take you.

When James Pepper met Riccardo Paffetti (Black Loops) a bromance was quick to bloom. After touring the Berlin-based Italian across Australia, the two soon realised they not only loved each others company but records too.

Following Black Loops maiden trip down under, the dudes stayed in touch and led to Pep crashing on Riccardo’s sofa bed for a week in Berlin. The duo went to work in the studio, brewing up some gems that were released on classy imprints Neovinyl Recordings and Haŵs.

It was on Paffetti’s most recent trip to Oz (well before the world shutdown) that brought about their most anticipated tracks to date. Bunkering down in a Marrickville studio, the cross-continent pairing got up close and personal with some neat hardware. Experimenting with an array of compressors, a TR8 and the Elektron Analog Four MKII ‘Three Drops’ EP was born.

The EP is a lively affair. A rampant message to club folk far and wide. Founded on lo-fi percussion, a crunchy kick and echoed key sections ‘Three Drops’ throws a flurry of punches. Varied combinations of electro, acid and techno rolling together just right. Here we have a welcome jab of adrenaline. You can almost visualise the duo grinning from ear-to-ear, as they bring in each piece of machinery.

'Three Drops’ made its live debut at Pepper’s recent Boiler Room in Sydney and has since taken the interwebs by storm. Hundred’s of ID requests later and the time is right to share this gem as the clubs open back up across the globe.

The B side and new single has arrived in ‘Arp Love’. A frantically beautiful dose of techno. Soaring risers make way for pulsating chords and shimmering TR8 patterns, as we’re led deep into a clubby rabbit hole. In signature Black Loops style, a spoken word sample on the disappointment of love breaks the piece in two.

For a burgeoning Sydney producer like Pep it must be truly amazing to co-write alongside Riccardo - an artist who’s clocked tens of millions of streams worldwide, claimed Deep House Artist of The Year (2017) via Traxsouce plus released weaponry on revered labels such as Shall Not Fade, Toy Tonics, Gruuv and Good Ratio.

We’re grateful James Pepper and Black Loops got together. These two on tracks makes sense.

On his fourth solo album, much as in Oh! (2020), the French composer, pianist and vocalist follows his ongoing exploration of the crossroads between poetry and songs, piano and synth, old-time verses and contemporary sounds. Inspired by the rhythms, effects and speech patterns of urban music, he also delivers, with a warm and moving voice, the texts of three poetesses from the past.
Since 2013, Ezéchiel Pailhès has been crafting a unique French synth pop. On his first three albums, he switched between songs inspired by poetry, instrumental ballads and electronica with hummed
choruses. This latest record is a collection of eleven new songs, two of which he wrote: "Opaline" and "Ni toi, ni moi" (neither you nor me). The others are adaptations of poems written in the 16th, 18th and
19th centuries by French poetesses Louise Labé (1524-1566), Marceline Desbordes-Valmore (1786- 1859) and Renée Vivien (1877-1909).
Poetesses from the past...
From classical music to songs, poetry adaptation is an old French tradition. "My universe has always embraced the musicality of this literary genre," the artist recalls. He actually started this project in 2017 with poems and sonnets by William Shakespeare, Pablo Neruda, Victor Hugo and above all Marceline Desbordes-Valmore, who can be heard again on songs such as "Dors-tu?" (Are you sleeping?),
"Élégie" or "L'attente" (The wait). A figure of romanticism, the author left her mark on the early 19th century through the quality of her texts and her formal inventions, particularly praised by Balzac, and
apparently a decisive influence on Verlaine and Baudelaire. "Marceline's poetry is very musical," says Ezéchiel admiringly. "Her use of rhythm and repetition sounds great and takes on a new perspective when set to music. In fact, she wrote some of her texts with singing in mind.”
“Ces longs secrets dont l'amour nous accuse, Viens-tu les rompre en songe à mes genoux ? Dors-tu, ma vie ! ou rêves-tu de moi ?”
“These long secrets for which love accuses us, Do you come to my knees to break them in a dream?
Are you sleeping, my life! or do you dream of me” (“Dors-tu ?”, after “Les pleurs” (the tears), 1833)
Besides her, we find the more famous, and rebellious, Renée Vivien, whose texts inspired three songs, "Regard en arrière" (Looking backwards), "Mélopée" (Melopoeia) and "La fille de la nuit" (The
night girl). Sometimes nicknamed "Sapho 1900", this figure of lesbian culture and, more broadly, of female genius, combined in her work the themes of desire, dreams, melancholy and the relationship with nature.
“Ta forme est un éclair
Ton sourire est l’instant Tu fuis, lorsque l’appel
T’implore, ô mon Désir !”
"Your shape is a spark of lightning
Your smile, the very moment
You flee, when the calling
Begs you, O my Desire!"
(After “Parle-moi, de ta voix pareille à l’eau courante” (Speak to me, with a voice like flowing waters) and “Ta forme est un éclair” (Your shape is a spark of lightning), Renée Vivien, 1901)
Lastly, with "Tant que mes yeux" (As long as my eyes), Ezéchiel was inspired by a 1555 poem by Renaissance poet Louise Labé, whose main topic explored female love, physical and spiritual desire,
and the torments and pains they generate.
" At the start of the project ", Ezéchiel continues, " I was interested in many poets, men and women, past and present, before my selection was narrowed down to these three female authors. Their works,
often written in difficult or secret conditions, express a raging romanticism, a passionate soul, fuelled by desperate and tormented love. I found it interesting, as a man coming from another world and time, to face this otherness, to trade viewpoints. Obviously, I could loudly claim that the album was the result of a concept, that it reflects today's world, and that it allows me to explore the notion of gender,
giving visibility to the work of a few women, while at the same time pairing these ancient texts with a more modern and rhythmic music, and obviously, there is some truth in that. But more than anything, I
wanted to serve the text itself, to express the emotion and connection I felt with these works.”
Today's rhythms and prosody...
Ezéchiel Pailhès combines texts from French literature with electronic music, its effects and rhythms, as well as a form of scansion that echoes rap, R&B or the current fusion between hip hop and pop,
which is part of our musical background and that of younger generations. "I wanted to cross-reference texts from the beginning of the century with this type of music. I wanted to use today’s techniques to tell the tale of different daily lives and experiences.
The album is thus marked by contemporary electronic orchestrations, in which he drops his favourite instrument, the piano, and his digital collage technique to use more extensive synth melodies, enhanced by drum machines, bringing a gentle and bright vibe to the romantic texts. Lastly, we can hear slight digital tones of Auto-Tune, which Ezéchiel uses sparingly and inventively.

Beyond its sophistication, the term "melopoeia" means a "sung declamation", a "recitative song", sometimes interpreted in a monotonous way. On this album, it could also refer to a sense of phrasing, which does not come from rap, but rather from jazz, Ezéchiel's first love. " In the past, I tried to hide my jazz culture, but it naturally came back on this new album, as can be heard, for instance, in Regard en arrière.” With its verses anchored in our literary memory, the following track "Mélopée", perfectly illustrates the album's vision. It manages to transcend eras, mixing past romanticism with a modern
prosody, fuelled by the nonchalance of hip hop and the warm chords of jazz.
“Qu’un hasard guide enfin mon désespoir tranquille
Vers l’eau d’une oasis ou les berges d’une île,
Où je puisse dormir, mon voyage accompli,
Dans la sécurité profonde de l’oubli”
"May chance guide my quiet sorrow, at last
To the water of an oasis, the shores of an island,
Where I may sleep, having traveled my way,
In the safe depths of oblivion".
(After “Sillages” (Trails), René Vivien, 1908)

'Ella & Louis Again' pressed on limited edition 180g premium vinyl for
super fidelity and presented in a deluxe gatefold sleeve
This was the second album pairing Ella Fitzgerald and Louis Armstrong produced
by Norman Granz for his Verve label. After recording a series of duets in the late
1940s for Decca, Ella and Louis were invited by Granz in 1956 to make a series of
sessions which would result in the memorable 'Ella and Louis'. Such was the
commercial success of the LP, the formula was repeated the following year with
the making of 'Ella and Louis Again'. Like its predecessor, it received both critical
acclaim and commercial success.

A decade is a long time in music, but it feels less epic when the music in question is timeless, picturesque, and immersive. Founded in London, run from Bali for a period, and now based in Ibiza, NuNorthern Soul has grown from humble roots to become one of the most popular outlets for Balearic music on the planet.

NuNorthern Soul started in the late 1990s, long before the label launched, NuNorthern Soul was a regular Sunday session in a bar in Chester, UK where label founder Phat Phil Cooper and school friend Jim Baron (Ron Basejam, Crazy P, JIM) sat behind the decks and played laidback, eclectic musical selections to wind down the weekend. The name was suggested by one of the event’s regular punters, who likened the community feel of the event to his experiences as a Northern Soul dancer.

Fast forward to 2011. Following a move to London, Cooper was introduced to Ben Smith, a singer-songwriter and producer whose music he’d long admired. After bonding over a few pints of Guinness, Smith offered to hand over a hard drive full of unreleased tracks; together, the pair put together what would become the NuNorthern Soul label’s first ever release: a fine album of beautiful, boundary-free music entitled The Movedrill Projects.

Another EP from Smith, Dedications to the Greats, followed in early 2013, with the sometime Fug and Akwaaba band-member recording emotive, life-affirming cover versions in his signature style. It was followed by an EP of opaque, sunset-ready songs from Ragz Nordset, and NuNorthern Soul was on its way. While the label has subtly moved around musically since, offering up EPs and albums that incorporate elements from a multitude of becalmed and blissful styles, the core ethos remains the same. Significantly, those early Ben Smith and Ragz Nordset releases still stand up to scrutiny all these years on.

Smith has remained a big part of the NuNorthern Soul family ever since, and it’s fitting that two of his tracks – the stunning, undulating downtempo epic ‘Over Land & Sea’, from improvised 2019 album From The Ash, and Jonny Nash’s glistening, shuffling 2015 rework of ‘Hold On To It’ – are featured on this 10th birthday celebration of the NuNorthern Soul story so far.

It’s right, too, that Jim Baron, whose stints behind the decks with Cooper in Chester began the NuNorthern Soul story, also makes two appearances. His chugging, jangling, wide-eyed 2014 Ron Basejam rework of Ragz Nordset’s ‘You Started It All’ – a track that has so far racked up over three million streams on Spotify – was an early label hit, while his fragile, softly spun masterpiece as JIM, ‘Whisper in the Wind’ (featuring none other than Ben Smith on guitar), features here via a deliciously stretched-out, sunrise-ready remix from James Holroyd under his Balearic-friendly BEGIN guise.

Sentimentality aside, the success of NuNorthern Soul is rooted in Cooper’s ability to pick music to release from a wide variety of artists that fits the label’s colourful, atmospheric, and tactile sonic vision. This lovingly curated box set is testament to that, with immersive, yearning efforts from veteran musicians such as Jon Tye (here appearing as Captain Sunshine, via the breath-taking ‘The Oceans Inside’) and the late, great Ryo Kawasaki (remixed by Mancunian, former Body & Soul NYC resident DJ Andi Hanley) being joined by wonderfully on-point productions from relatively recent signings such as Torn Sail (the Balearic folk swell of ‘Disconnected’), George Koultalieris, My Friend Dario and Tambores En Benirras.

10 Years, 5 EPs, 10 tracks, exclusives, previously unreleased and hard to find NuNorthern Soul treasures. Packaged in a full colour commemorative designed box with full colour inner sleeves. 1 track per side of vinyl for maximum audio pleasure. Comes with 4 page NuNorthern Soul insert. Limited edition.

As the sun sets on a quaint East Nashville house, a young man bares a piece of his soul. Facing the camera, sporting a silky suit jacket/shirt/slacks/fingerless gloves ensemble that announces "singer" before he's even opened his mouth, Lee Tracy Johnson settles onto his stage, the front yard. He sways to the dirge-like drum machine pulse of a synth-soaked slow jam, extends his arms as if gaining his balance, and croons in affecting, fragile earnest, "I need your love… oh baby…"

Dogs in the yard next door begin barking. A mysterious cardboard robot figure, beamed in from galaxies unknown and affixed to a tree, is less vocal. Lee doesn't acknowledge either's presence. He's busy feeling it, arms and hands gesticulating. His voice rises in falsetto over the now-quiet dogs, over the ambient noise from the street that seeps into the handheld camcorder's microphone, over the recording of his own voice played back from a boombox off-camera. After six minutes the single, continuous shot ends. In this intimate creative universe there are no re-takes. There are many more music videos to shoot, and as Lee later puts it, "The first time you do it is actually the best. Because you can never get that again. You expressing yourself from within."

"I Need Your Love" dates from a lost heyday. From some time in the '80s or early '90s, when Lee Tracy (as he was known in performance) and his music partner/producer/manager Isaac Manning committed hours upon hours of their sonic and visual ideas to tape. Embracing drum machines and synthesizers – electronics that made their personal futurism palpable – they recorded exclusively at home, live in a room into a simple cassette deck. Soul, funk, electro and new wave informed their songs, yet Lee and Isaac eschewed the confinement of conventional categories and genres, preferring to let experimentation guide them.

"Anytime somebody put out a new record they had the same instruments or the same sound," explains Isaac. "So I basically wanted to find something that's really gonna stand out away from all of the rest of 'em." Their ethos meant that every idea they came up with was at least worth trying: echoed out half-rapped exhortations over frantic techno-style beats, gospel synth soul, modal electro-funk, oddball pop reinterpretations, emo AOR balladry, nods to Prince and the Fat Boys, or arrangements that might collapse mid-song into a mess of arcade game-ish blips before rallying to reach the finish line. All of it conjoined by consistent tape hiss, and most vitally, Lee's chameleonic voice, which managed to wildly shape shift and still evoke something sincere – whether toggling between falsetto and tenor exalting Jesus's return, or punctuating a melismatic romantic adlib with a succinct, "We all know how it feels to be alone."

"People think we went to a studio," says Isaac derisively. "We never went to no studio. We didn't have the money to go to no studio! We did this stuff at home. I shot videos in my front yard with whatever we could to get things together." Sometimes Isaac would just put on an instrumental record, be it "Planet Rock" or "Don't Cry For Me Argentina" (from Evita), press "record," and let Lee improvise over it, yielding peculiar love songs, would-be patriotic anthems, or Elvis Presley or Marilyn Monroe tributes. Technical limitations and a lack of professional polish never dissuaded them. They believed they were onto something.

"That struggle," Isaac says, "made that sound sound good to me."

In the parlance of modern music criticism Lee and Isaac's dizzying DIY efforts would inevitably be described as "outsider." But "outsider" carries the burden of untold additional layers of meaning if you're Black and from the South, creating on a budget, and trying to get someone, anyone within the country music capital of the world to take your vision seriously. "What category should we put it in?" Isaac asks rhetorically. "I don't know. All I know is feeling. I ain't gonna name it nothing. It's music. If it grabs your soul and touch your heart that's what it basically is supposed to do."

=

Born in 1963, the baby boy of nine siblings, Lee Tracy spent his earliest years living amidst the shotgun houses on Nashville's south side. "We was poor, man!" he says, recalling the outhouse his family used for a bathroom and the blocks of ice they kept in the kitchen to chill perishables. "But I actually don't think I really realized I was in poverty until I got grown and started thinking about it." Lee's mom worked at the Holiday Inn; his dad did whatever he had to do, from selling fruit from a horse drawn cart to bootlegging. "We didn't have much," Lee continues, "but my mother and my father got us the things we needed, the clothes on our back." By the end of the decade with the city's urban renewal programs razing entire neighborhoods to accommodate construction of the Interstate, the family moved to Edgehill Projects. Lee remembers music and art as a constant source of inspiration for he and his brothers and sisters – especially after seeing the Jackson 5 perform on Ed Sullivan. "As a small child I just knew that was what I wanted to do."

His older brother Don began musically mentoring him, introducing Lee to a variety of instruments and sounds. "He would never play one particular type of music, like R&B," says Lee. "I was surrounded by jazz, hard rock and roll, easy listening, gospel, reggae, country music; I mean I was a sponge absorbing all of that." Lee taught himself to play drums by beating on cardboard boxes, gaining a rep around the way for his timekeeping, and his singing voice. Emulating his favorites, Earth Wind & Fire and Cameo, he formed groups with other kids with era-evocative band names like Concept and TNT Connection, and emerged as the leader of disciplined rehearsals. "I made them practice," says Lee. "We practiced and practiced and practiced. Because I wanted that perfection." By high school the most accomplished of these bands would take top prize in a prominent local talent show. It was a big moment for Lee, and he felt ready to take things to the next level. But his band-mates had other ideas.

"I don't know what happened," he says, still miffed at the memory. "It must have blew they mind after we won and people started showing notice, because it's like everybody quit! I was like, where the hell did everybody go?" Lee had always made a point of interrogating prospective musicians about their intentions before joining his groups: were they really serious or just looking for a way to pick up girls? Now he understood even more the importance of finding a collaborator just as committed to the music as he was.

=

Isaac Manning had spent much of his life immersed in music and the arts – singing in the church choir with his family on Nashville's north side, writing, painting, dancing, and working various gigs within the entertainment industry. After serving in the armed forces, in the early '70s he ran The Teenage Place, a music and performance venue that catered to the local youth. But he was forced out of town when word of one of his recreational routines created a stir beyond the safe haven of his bohemian circles.

"I was growing marijuana," Isaac explains. "It wasn't no business, I was smoking it myself… I would put marijuana in scrambled eggs, cornbread and stuff." His weed use originated as a form of self-medication to combat severe tooth pain. But when he began sharing it with some of the other young people he hung out with, some of who just so happened to be the kids of Nashville politicians, the cops came calling. "When I got busted," he remembers, "they were talking about how they were gonna get rid of me because they didn't want me saying nothing about they children because of the politics and stuff. So I got my family, took two raggedy cars, and left Nashville and went to Vegas."

Out in the desert, Isaac happened to meet Chubby Checker of "The Twist" fame while the singer was gigging at The Flamingo. Impressed by Isaac's zeal, Checker invited him to go on the road with him as his tour manager/roadie/valet. The experience gave Isaac a window into a part of the entertainment world he'd never encountered – a glimpse of what a true pop act's audience looked like. "Chubby Checker, none of his shows were played for Black folks," he remembers. "All his gigs were done at high-class white people areas." Returning home after a few years with Chubby, Isaac was properly motivated to make it in Music City. He began writing songs and scouting around Nashville for local talent anywhere he could find it with an expressed goal: "Find someone who can deliver your songs the way you want 'em delivered and make people feel what you want them to feel."

One day while walking through Edgehill Projects Isaac heard someone playing the drums in a way that made him stop and take notice. "The music was so tight, just the drums made me feel like, oh I'm-a find this person," he recalls. "So I circled through the projects until I found who it was.

"That's how I met him – Lee Tracy. When I found him and he started singing and stuff, I said, ohhh, this is somebody different."

=

Theirs was a true complementary partnership: young Lee possessed the raw talent, the older Isaac the belief. "He's really the only one besides my brother and my family that really seen the potential in me," says Lee. "He made me see that I could do it."

Isaac long being a night owl, his house also made for a fertile collaborative environment – a space where there always seemed to be a new piece of his visual art on display: paintings, illustrations, and dolls and figures (including an enigmatic cardboard robot). Lee and Issac would hang out together and talk, listen to music, conjure ideas, and smoke the herb Isaac had resumed growing in his yard. "It got to where I could trust him, he could trust me," Isaac says of their bond. They also worked together for hours on drawings, spreading larges rolls of paper on the walls and sketching faces with abstract patterns and imagery: alien-like beings, tri-horned horse heads, inverted Janus-like characters where one visage blurred into the other.

Soon it became apparent that they didn't need other collaborators; self-sufficiency was the natural way forward. At Isaac's behest Lee, already fed up with dealing with band musicians, began playing around with a poly-sonic Yamaha keyboard at the local music store. "It had everything on it – trumpet, bass, drums, organ," remembers Lee. "And that's when I started recording my own stuff."

The technology afforded Lee the flexibility and independence he craved, setting him on a path other bedroom musicians and producers around the world were simultaneously following through the '80s into the early '90s. Saving up money from day jobs, he eventually supplemented the Yamaha Isaac had gotten him with Roland and Casio drum machines and a Moog. Lee was living in an apartment in Hillside at that point caring for his dad, who'd been partially paralyzed since early in life. In the evenings up in his second floor room, the music put him in a zone where he could tune out everything and lose himself in his ideas.

"Oh I loved it," he recalls. "I would really experiment with the instruments and use a lot of different sound effects. I was looking for something nobody else had. I wanted something totally different. And once I found the sound I was looking for, I would just smoke me a good joint and just let it go, hit the record button." More potent a creative stimulant than even Isaac's weed was the holistic flow and spontaneity of recording. Between sessions at Isaac's place and Lee's apartment, their volume of output quickly ballooned.

"We was always recording," says Lee. "That's why we have so much music. Even when I went to Isaac's and we start creating, I get home, my mind is racing, I gotta start creating, creating, creating. I remember there were times when I took a 90-minute tape from front to back and just filled it up."

"We never practiced," says Isaac. "See, that was just so odd about the whole thing. I could relate to him, and tell him about the songs I had ideas for and everything and stuff. And then he would bring it back or whatever, and we'd get together and put it down." Once the taskmaster hell bent on rehearsing, Lee had flipped a full 180. Perfection was no longer an aspiration, but the enemy of inspiration.

"I seen where practicing and practicing got me," says Lee. "A lot of musicians you get to playing and they gotta stop, they have to analyze the music. But while you analyzing you losing a lot of the greatness of what you creating. Stop analyzing what you play, just play! And it'll all take shape."

=

"I hope you understood the beginning of the record because this was invented from a dream I had today… (You tell me, I'll tell you, we'll figure it out together)" – Lee Tracy and Isaac Manning, "Hope You Understand"

Lee lets loose a maniacal cackle when he acknowledges that the material that he and Isaac recorded was by anyone's estimation pretty out there. It's the same laugh that commences "Hope You Understand" – a chaotic transmission that encapsulates the duality at the heart of their music: a stated desire to reach people and a compulsion to go as leftfield as they saw fit.

"We just did it," says Lee. "We cut the music on and cut loose. I don't sit around and write. I do it by listening, get a feeling, play the music, and the lyrics and stuff just come out of me."

The approach proved adaptable to interpreting other artists' material. While recording a cover of Whitney Houston's pop ballad "Saving All My Love For You," Lee played Whitney's version in his headphones as he laid down his own vocals – partially following the lyrics, partially using them as a departure point. The end result is barely recognizable compared with the original, Lee and Isaac having switched up the time signature and reinvented the melody along the way towards morphing a slick mainstream radio standard into something that sounds solely their own.

"I really used that song to get me started," says Lee. "Then I said, well I need something else, something is missing. Something just came over me. That's when I came up with 'Is It What You Want.'"

The song would become the centerpiece of Lee and Isaac's repertoire. Pushed along by a percolating metronomic Rhythm King style beat somewhere between a military march and a samba, "Is It What You Want" finds Lee pleading the sincerity of his commitment to a potential love interest embellished by vocal tics and hiccups subtlely reminiscent of his childhood hero MJ. Absent chord changes, only synth riffs gliding in and out like apparitions, the song achieves a lingering lo-fi power that leaves you feeling like it's still playing, somewhere, even after the fade out.

"I don't know, it's like a real spiritual song," Lee reflects. "But it's not just spiritual. To me the more I listen to it it's like about everything that you do in your everyday life, period. Is it what you want? Do you want a car or you don't want a car? Do you want Jesus or do you want the Devil? It's basically asking you the question. Can't nobody answer the question but you yourself."

In 1989 Lee won a lawsuit stemming from injuries sustained from a fight he'd gotten into. He took part of the settlement money and with Isaac pressed up "Saving All My Love For You" b/w "Is It What You Want" as a 45 single. Isaac christened the label One Chance Records. "Because that's all we wanted," he says with a laugh, "one chance."

Isaac sent the record out to radio stations and major labels, hoping for it to make enough noise to get picked up nationally. But the response he and Lee were hoping for never materialized. According to Isaac the closest the single got to getting played on the radio is when a disk jock from a local station made a highly unusual announcement on air: "The dude said on the radio, 107.5 – 'We are not gonna play 'Is It What You Want.' We cracked up! Wow, that's deep.

"It was a whole racist thing that was going on," he reflects. "So we just looked over and kept on going. That was it. That was about the way it goes… If you were Black and you were living in Nashville and stuff, that's the way you got treated." Isaac already knew as much from all the times he'd brought he and Lee's tapes (even their cache of country music tunes) over to Music Row to try to drum up interest to no avail.

"Isaac, he really worked his ass off," says Lee. "He probably been to every record place down on Music Row." Nashville's famed recording and music business corridor wasn't but a few blocks from where Lee grew up. Close enough, he remembers, for him to ride his bike along its back alleys and stumble upon the occasional random treasure, like a discarded box of harmonicas. Getting in through the front door, however, still felt a world away.

"I just don't think at the time our music fell into a category for them," he concedes. "It was before its time."

=

Lee stopped making music some time in the latter part of the '90s, around the time his mom passed away and life became increasingly tough to manage. "When my mother died I had a nervous breakdown," he says, "So I shut down for a long time. I was in such a sadness frame of mind. That's why nobody seen me. I had just disappeared off the map." He fell out of touch with Isaac, and in an indication of just how bad things had gotten for him, lost track of all the recordings they'd made together. Music became a distant memory.

Fortunately, Isaac kept the faith. In a self-published collection of his poetry – paeans to some of his favorite entertainment and public figures entitled Friends and Dick Clark – he'd written that he believed "music has a life of its own." But his prescience and presence of mind were truly manifested in the fact that he kept an archive of he and Lee's work. As perfectly imperfect as "Is It What You Want" now sounds in a post-Personal Space world, Lee and Isaac's lone official release was in fact just a taste. The bulk of the Is It What You Want album is culled from the pair's essentially unheard home recordings – complete songs, half-realized experiments, Isaac's blue monologues and pronouncements et al – compiled, mixed and programmed in the loose and impulsive creative spirit of their regular get-togethers from decades ago. The rest of us, it seems, may have finally caught up to them.

On the prospect of at long last reaching a wider audience, Isaac says simply, "I been trying for a long time, it feels good." Ever the survivor, he adds, "The only way I know how to make it to the top is to keep climbing. If one leg break on the ladder, hey, you gotta fix it and keep on going… That's where I be at. I'll kill death to make it out there."

For Lee it all feels akin to a personal resurrection: "It's like I was in a tomb and the tomb was opened and I'm back… Man, it feels so great. I feel like I'm gonna jump out of my skin." Success at this stage of his life, he realizes, probably means something different than what it did back when he was singing and dancing in Isaac's front yard. "What I really mean by 'making it,'" he explains isn't just the music being heard but, "the story being told."

Occasionally Lee will pull up "Is It What You Want" on YouTube on his phone, put on his headphones, and listen. He remembers the first time he heard his recorded voice. How surreal it was, how he thought to himself, "Is that really me?" What would he say to that younger version of himself now?

"I would probably tell myself, hang in there, don't give up. Keep striving for the goal. And everything will work out."

Despite what's printed on the record label, sometimes you do get more than one chance.

Albert van Abbe & Jochem Paap join forces for General Audio.

Recorded at Willem Twee studios in Den Bosch, General Audio explores a unique and esoteric approach to sound creation. Using test and measure equipment from the 1950’s, originally designed for the maintenance of various audio and radio transmitters, van Abbe and Paap create otherworldly walls of sound and dense rhythmic abstractions with an early form of synthesis. Rudimentary signals are combined and processed before being committed to tape via mic’s set up to capture the Willem Twee studio’s unique acoustics. The equipment itself predates the invention of the analog, modular synthesizers developed in the 70’s that are now commonplace in many studios.

The record opens with 220Lock-in, a gently undulating drone composition. Effervescent at the top end and fathoms deep at the bottom, it shifts ominously with ring modulated tones that build and then give way to thick washes of white noise. A single synth flourish provides a surprising final moment. The record continues with WZ-1Wobbel Zusatz, a low-sunk percussive piece with an off-kilter rhythm and wet spring reverb doing the bulk of the sonic heavy lifting. Deep in the mix, delicate shifts in pitch and tone deliver a kind of arcane musicality, and as the recording approaches its final moments the piece descends into an exhilarating chaos, with sonic components falling slowly by the wayside. Pegelmesser riffs on a similar reverb characteristic, but this time a driven, arp-like lead propels the work forward. Crisp shifts in colour and distortion arrive unexpectedly, providing a curious musical sensation once more – and harsher moments of feedback break up the recording in its later stages. On Rel 3L 212c LC-pi the pair strip things back, with more present percussive components and subtle distortion lines, before Wandel ups the ante with a corrosive dirge broken up by sporadic submerged synth hits. The penultimate recording SR 250 Boxcar Averager shows off impressive pitch modulation, resulting in a variety of intriguing sensations. Cinematic and remarkably visual, it charts a strange and affecting course, the synth lead underpinned by a repetitive percussive motif and all manner of sends delivering fascinating details. Nim Bin closes the record and once more van Abbe and Paap invite that subtle musicality into the recording. A tight VCO modulation drives the piece while various percussive synth strikes provide a kind of rhythmic component, though they remain untethered to any time signature – a neat conclusion to an intriguing and exploratory record.

Written and Produced by Albert Van Abbe & Jochem Paap

Taken from Dilla's 2001 BBE Music debut solo album Welcome 2 Detroit, 'Big Booty Express' gets the remix treatment from German duo Âme, Parisian Pépé Bradock and London's Coda Deep. Alongside the OG version these new productions add up to a six track exploration of Dilla's tribute to Detroit's melding of the Motor City's Black music heritage with Kraftwerk's experimental Euroelectro. Contributing two mixes to the EP, Parisian producer Pépé Bradock AKA Julien Auger first forays into music were after learning guitar as a 14 year old and playing with various Jazz-Funk bands. At this time he also started DJing with Hip-Hop bands and turning his hand to producing their tracks. As the 90s progressed he also discovered Techno and House music. His musical influences range from Jazz to Dub Reggae and he has remixed for Blaze, Cassius and Alex Gopher among others. Also providing a remix of Big Booty Express is the German production duo of Frank Wiedemann and Kristian Beyer who work together under the name of Âme. After first meeting in Kristian's record shop in their home town of Karlsruhe and bonding over a shared love of Chicago House and Detroit Techno the pair started working together and producing records for Sonar Kollektiv in 2003. The final two remixes on the Big Booty Express EP and only included on the digital package come from the Londoner Coda Deep. Influenced by avant-garde Electronica, Nu Wave and African Tribal sounds, he is a DJ and producer playing deep and melodic Tech and Techno and will also be known to music fans for his 2019 BBE release 'The Running of the Bulls'. This EP of remixes sits very well alongside the catalogue of J Dilla releases on BBE Music and adds to the rich heritage of innovative beat making and music production that we can associate with Dilla and those he worked with.

It’s common knowledge that KOMPAKT’s TOTAL series serves as our yearbook, a musical wrap up of the past 12 months. Therefore it doesn’t come as a surprise that this year’s edition is informed by another pandemic year, where dancefloors were still mostly deserted and the devastating developments in Eastern Europe. Kompakt’s A&R team still kept on foot on the imaginary dancefloor, while scouting different realms apart from the big room euphoria. Anyway, brain dance has always been a key ingredient to our catalogue.

The Voigt brothers are opening this years vinyl edition in an unusually romantic fashion. ‘Why’ combines a bubbly FM bassline with lush washes of looped guitars. High off the (presumably high) heels of her recent album ‘Jesus Was An Alien’ she delivers a spanking new excursion into her sonic world, ‘The Hill’. Our Mexican friend Rebolledo makes his first ever solo appearance on TOTAL with his trademark hypnotic desert sound. Jürgen Paape is calling a spade a spade with ‘Le Monde À Changé’ – The world has changed indeed. Our prodigal son, Matias Aguayo, returns to the mothership with ‘Cinco Y Rojo’. An exercise in Chicago-esque groove theory paired with a cheeky visitor from Denmark. Spot the reference and win a pair of hooves. It’s hard to find a quality party around Cologne without Jonathan Kaspar on its bill. Rightly so, as he continues to hone his craft as an impeccable DJ and producer. Michael gives the tremendously talented Danish singer songwriter eee gee a proper Mayer treatment and Kompakt founding member Jörg Burger closes off the festivities with a groovy midtempo chugger that reminisces ‘Blue Lines’ era Massive Attack as much as the late Andy Weatheralls low slung psychedelia.

Es ist allgemein bekannt, dass die TOTAL Reihe eine jährliche Positionsbestimmung des Kölner Labels KOMPAKT darstellt und der Jahrbuch-hafte Charakter war ja auch immer beabsichtigt. So wundert es wenig, dass man TOTAL 22 die Irrungen und Wirrungen des zweiten pandemischen Jahres 2022 deutlich anhört. Die A&R Abteilung des Labels hatte zwar – trotz geschlossener Clubs – weiter mindestens einen Fuss auf dem imaginären Tanzboden, aber man spürt, dass es ein eher verhaltener Jahrgang geworden ist. Dance Tracks brauchen einen entsprechenden Resonanzraum – und der war zumindest bis zur Deadline dieser Platte kaum gegeben. Aber Kopfdisco gehörte schon immer zum kompakten Repertoire. Letztlich entsteht in diesem vom Big Room los gekoppelten Bereich meist die interessanteste Musik.

Die Gebrüder Voigt eröffnen TOTAL 22 auf einer unerwartet romantischen Note. Quirlige FM Bässe schmiegen sich an verhuschte Gitarrenloops, so dass es eine wahre Freude ist. Perel hat gerade ihr fulminantes Album “Jesus Was An Alien” abgeliefert und spurtet bereits mit Siebenmeilenstiefeln (oder vielleicht auch Pumps?) zum nächsten Ziel: ‘The Hills’. Unser mexikanischer Freund Rebolledo ist erstmals solo auf einer TOTAL zu finden und beschwört mit ‘The Sharper Image’ seinen hypnotischen Prärie Sound herauf. Jürgen Paape nennt das Kind direkt beim Namen: Le monde a changé… Die Welt hat sich verändert – ein Kommentar zum Zeitgeschehen, der keiner Erklärung bedarf. Nach längerer Abstinenz hat Matias Aguayo wieder am Mutterschiff angedockt. ‘Cinco Y Rojo’ ist ein Lehrstück in Sachen Chicago-esquen Grooves, kombiniert mit einem frechen Besucher aus dem Dänemark der 80er. Findet die Referenz und gewinnt ein paar nagelneuer Hufen. Es ist derzeit schwer eine qualitativ hochwertige Party im Rheinland zu finden, auf der Jonathan Kaspar nicht spielt. Zurecht, denn er schärft seine Skills als DJ und Produzent wie ein Sushi Chef sein Messer. Michael Mayer dreht die überaus talentierte Singer Songwriterin eee gee auf links und überlässt seinem Weggefährten Jörg Burger das letzte Wort. "Crawling Up That Hill’ ist ein slicker Midtempo Groover, der in seiner behutsamen Psychedelik irgendwo zwischen Massive Attack in der ‘Blue Lines’ Epoche und Andy Weatherall changiert.

Knucks takes the Hip Hop world by storm as he gears for the release of his highly anticipated new project "Alpha Place"'.Following the release of his unorthodox visuals, Knucks delivers heartfelt messages through addictive rap compositions

A dynamic new face to the genre, "Alpha Place" focuses on the feelings and thoughts that the artist and producer has been experiencing growing up in London, channeled through the stirring essence of music. Highlighting important narratives and revitalising the Hip Hop genre, with a composition which is both soulful, moving, and memorable, the rising new artist is changing the rules of the
game.Knucks is taking his artistry to new heights in Alpha Place, with soulful samples and distinctive production styles paired with some of the UK's biggest names in the rap game. The project is more than just an ode to the neighbourhood Knucks grew up in Alpha House but a representation of life and culture on all sides of the capital. Giving a voice to many experiences shared by young people growing up. Knucks makes his mark on the industry with this new body of work pushing boundaries and channelling his authentic flow and flair.

From selling out headline shows and opening for the likes of Wretch 32, Knuck's approach and unorthodox style has garnered over 150 million streams across all platforms independently as well as earning critical acclaim from outlets such as GQ Style, Wonderland, Notion and many more. Boasting a range of noteworthy features including contributing show-stealing verses on collaborations like "Beg To Differ" with Emil, "Ting Tun Up, Pt. II '' with Montreal's Skiifall.

4 LP set is for Indies only until further notice. Unravelled: 1981–2002 shines a loving light on lo-fi pioneers Tall Dwarfs, the prized New Zealand duo of Chris Knox and Alec Bathgate. The collection, available as a 4-LP or 2-CD box set, compiles songs from Tall Dwarfs' two decades of recordings. The vinyl edition includes a 20-page collector's booklet of photos, comics, posters, and other ephemera. The songs on Unravelled: 1981–2002 were curated by Alec Bathgate, who also designed the box set packaging; Chris Knox suffered a debilitating stroke in 2009 just as they had started work on a new album. The collection captures the different sides of the Tall Dwarfs in 55 songs. Though the band was an excuse for two good friends who lived in different cities to get together, drink beer, watch shitty old movies, and do some recording and drawing, Tall Dwarfs created music unlike anyone else. Capturing the initial excitement of creation and taking pride in what they did, Knox and Bathgate showed a whole generation of musicians what could be done at home on a 4-track and what magic could be made if you mixed pop melodies and hooks galore with homemade sounds. After a failed flirtation with success in their previous band Toy Love, Knox and Bathgate formed Tall Dwarfs in 1981, opting to record themselves on a 4-track reel-to-reel. New Zealand’s AudioCulture wrote of the duo’s project: “Early live performances were a ramshackle work in progress. Knox described them in an interview with American magazine Forced Exposure as ‘two minutes of song followed by five minutes of fucking around,’ and they dismayed many Toy Love fans—but the pair had no interest in a career spent in pubs cranking out ‘Pull Down the Shades.’” Tall Dwarfs was meant to be a one-off, but after the founding of their New Zealand label Flying Nun, they continued to record music for the next 21 years, releasing seven EPs and six albums. Their process was spontaneous, with songs being recorded as they were written. Typically, Bathgate would work up something on guitar while Knox provided vocals, lyrics, and tape loops. Then they added any sounds that seemed necessary to finish a song, using whatever was lying around: pans, chairs, baby rattles. Though Tall Dwarfs could be weird, they were never too experimental; Knox and Bathgate both loved melody too much (“Beatlesque” appeared more often than any other adjective in their reviews).

823 is a multifaceted Perth-based record label, fashion brand, and artistic community, founded by Australian producer and all-around creative, Ta-ku (846k monthly listeners on Spotify). With an ethos of attention to detail and appreciation for the everyday things in life, 823 doesn’t stick to any particular genre. 823’s releases include Cabu’s (800k Monthly Listeners on Spotify) “So Far To Go” EP, Ta-ku and matt mcwaters’s duo project “Black and White,” which featured Masego collaboration “Flight 99” (14 million streams on Spotify), their debut release with Australian producer and instrumentalist Kuzich, and multiple sold out clothing capsules. “All Things Considered Vol. 1” set off a collaborative series of curated compilations, featuring both budding and well-established artists around the world including Idealism, Wun Two, pastels, SwuM, Jinsang, Saltyyyy V, and more. “All Things Considered Vol. 2” sees the continuation of this project, this time in partnership with fellow Perth-based powerhouse, Butter Goods.

Butter Goods is a Perth clothing brand rooted in skating culture and style, but drawing inspiration from hip-hop, jazz, and music at large. Butter Goods has been featured in major publications, including GQ, Complex, and HYPEBEAST. They’ve collaborated on releases with Peanuts and Puma, and have reached international levels of popularity. Butter Goods co-founder Garth Mariano’s deep love for and eclectic tastes in music drive his creativity, and are front and center in his partnership with Ta-ku and 823 on “All Things Considered Vol 2,” where the two team up to curate a wide-ranging compilation.

Arriving on September 2nd, 2022, “All Things Considered Vol. 2” is an exploration of Ta-ku’s and Mariano’s extensive and often overlapping musical palettes in two parts. The record pays homage to the love of instrumental music and hidden gems of new school jazz and funk that act as a source of inspiration and nostalgia for the both of them. The collaboration brings together over a dozen producers and instrumentalists from Sydney to Chicago, including Jadu Jadu, Gnarly, Tenderlonius, silentjay, and more. Side A is curated by Ta-ku and 823. It’s as much a love letter to the past as it is a nod to the future of beat-making. Featuring sample heavy, drum looped beats, sprinkled with the occasional ear candy for the attentive listener, it presents cruisy soundscapes & easy listening. Side B is curated by Garth and Butter Goods. It’s a raw and eclectic companion to Side A, leaning heavily into the texture and grit of multi-layered jazz and funk-driven beats.

As with any 823 release, the project is as visual as it is sonic. The artwork and visualizers are a celebration of Garth’s love of thrift culture and old nature documentaries, fused with 823’s design aesthetic of bringing everyday inspirations to the forefront. CRT style visuals are paired with 90’s spin, slide and fade away transitions. When partnered with the music, each visualizer could easily work as the intro for an episode of a VHS series of nature docos.

1st single, “senzu bean,” arrives on July 7th and kicks off Side A, showcasing Ta-ku’s hip-hop-centric tastes. Sydney producer Jadu Jadu teams up with UK-based TAMBALA, apltn, and Makzo for a vibrant instrumental. From a head-nodding bassline beneath fuzzy synths, to soft horn licks sprinkled over electronic drums, “senzu bean” is sonically rich and multilayered.

2nd single, “Too Much” by UK producer saaaz arrives July 20th. It’s a moody and low-tempo beat that builds itself up over time, complete with cryptic vocal samples and syrupy drums and bass. Also off of 823’s Side A, “Too Much” maintains a laid-back hip-hop theme but with saaaz’s signature and definitive lo-fi twist.

3rd single, “Goodmorning” from Baro Sura and silentjay of Melbourne arrives August 3rd, kicking off Butter Good’s Side B. The track is bright from start to finish and is a sun-filled track perfect for closing out the summer with. Final single, “Fool’s Gold” by Los Angeles producer L.Dre arrives August 17th. The infinitely creative beatmaker layers soft hums and the sounds of crashing waves over crisp drums and an infectious bassline. Together, it makes for a beat that sounds like it was made outside, under the sun, and is best enjoyed in the same way.

Focus track, “Seventh Wonder” by Tenderlonius, comes off of Side B, and is a window into the ideas and palettes on both sides of the compilation. The beat slowly fades in, one sound at a time, until it reaches a full-fledged groove, soaked in synths, bass, and horns, that’s impossible not to move to.

On the whole, “All Things Considered Vol. 2” is a forward-focused, sonic journey into the minds behind two of today’s great creative brands, and is as artistically eclectic and varied as those minds are, and a proud follow-up to its first volume.

LP contains A2 poster on uncoated stock.

Last time he brought his Emperor Machine project to Leng, via the seductive, call-to-the dancefloor that was ‘Dance Par Amour’, Andrew Meecham had vocalist Severine Mouletin in tow. On this welcome return to the label, Meecham has enlisted the help of another sublime singer: Bom Carrot 봄캐롯, lead vocalist with South Korean punk-pop outfit Tirikilatops.

Although the pair share a mutual friend, who had extolled the virtues of a potential collaboration to Meecham, it was only when Bom Carrot 봄캐롯 reached out on social media that the pair were finally connected. Meecham jumped at the opportunity to kick-start a collaboration, quickly firing over a track he’d been working on. A few months later, her vocals landed in his inbox and the rest, as they say, is history.

The resultant track, ‘춤춰 Chumchwo – Let’s Dance’, may feature many of the aural trademarks of Meecham’s Emperor Machine work – spiralling analogue electronics, vintage synth sounds, effects aplenty and infectious grooves inspired by New York’s no-wave movement of the early 1980s – but is somehow even more thrillingly wild, excitable, and exhilarating than you’d reasonably expect.

A big part of that, of course, is the inspired contributions of Bom Carrot 봄캐롯. Her freewheeling vocals – part sung, part spoken, and part improvised – are energetic, distinctive, and addictive, adding layers of post-punk abandon and a genuine sense of musical freedom. Combined with Meecham’s outrageously unpredictable backing track – there are twists and turns aplenty, as well as surprising percussive and musical touches that seemingly appear and disappear at will – the resultant song is like the unlikely sonic lovechild of Talking Heads, YMO, Pierre Henry and K-Punk.

As you’d expect given his track record of delivering freewheeling instrumental reworks, the vocal version comes backed with an extra-special Emperor Machine ‘Instrumental Dub’ version. Stripped back and percussive, with dropouts and breakdowns aplenty, this is no mere vocal-free take, but rather a reconstructed revision piled high with extra percussion, spacey electronics, echoing vocal snippets, bubbly bass and razor-sharp Tom Tom Club guitar licks –all arranged to rise, fall and rise again around Meecham’s killer groove. As the track’s title suggests: “Let’s Dance!”

The Globeflower Masters Vol. 1 takes its inspiration from classic soundtrack and cinematic composers such as Axelrod, Morricone, Gainsbourg, Jean-Claude Vannier and Piero Umiliani. Created during Summer 2020, this album is the product of a fruitful collaboration between Brighton-based musicians Glenn Fallows (The Impellers / Andres y Xavi) and Mark Treffel (Blue States / The Soul Steppers). These seasoned performing and recording artists have put their abundance of experience and skilful musicianship into effect with aplomb on this album. This is as accomplished a debut release as you will ever hear, and dare we say, a future classic in the making.

The Globeflower Masters project was borne from an idea Glenn had to create an album that leant on the influence of soundtrack and library composers - particularly of the late 60s and early 70s. This rich sonic palette had previously been innate in his writing and composition but, for this album, the direct inspiration was placed front and centre. After penning several sketches, Glenn contacted Mark to fulfil the vision he had for a complete sound. Mark had an arsenal of vintage synths, pianos and other fun toys which could supplement the drums, guitars and bass that Glenn had been working on. As the album progressed, the pair worked increasingly collaboratively, with each of them starting and sharing ideas to curate the final eight finished tracks.

The results are an album of lush, warm, timeless productions that are drenched in strings and classical instrumentation. Awash with atmospheric excursions, it is a listening experience that moves you through moods whilst transporting you to a world of deeply evocative settings and imagined scenarios. The Globeflower Masters Vol. 1 resonates equally as well on a dark melancholic Winter's day as it does sound-tracking a halcyon Summer day. Though influenced by 60s and 70s productions the record is not a simple pastiche, feeling both simultaneously brand new as well as authentically retro.

- Stunning debut album filled with lush, warm, timeless productions.

- Taking inspiration from classic 60s and 70s soundtrack, and cinematic, composers such as Axelrod, Morricone and Gainsbourg

The long-running Kompakt imprint will release an EP by German DJ and producer Sascha Funke in September. Sharing five tracks that traverse quirky house and techno, Treets marks Funke’s monumental return to Kompakt since his Zug um Zug two-tracker in 2014.

Speaking about Treets, Funke says he is "very happy to be back on the mothership Kompakt" after an eight-year break. As one would expect with Funke, the EP fits the cosmic world of Kompakt to a tee. The title track conveys a weird, tripped-out atmosphere as an alien-like vocal burbles between an acid bassline and squeaky percussion. It's a tantalising glimpse of Funke's freaky underworld. E_Plus follows a similar wonked-out vein, only this time, the vibe is ominous. Funke pairs an orchestral vocal with bleepy pads and signature acid-drenched melody — a solid offering oddball of energy. On Alles Paletti, a 2-step drum pattern and string of bright claps create a sunny soundscape, complemented by a robust bassline and ethereal synth notes. It's fairytale house music, the kind only Funke can produce. The penultimate track Haus More is subdued, as chugging drums slither between a wobbly melody. The Other Version feels futuristic, as Funke goes full-force electro. Extra-terrestrial vocals return, but the pace is cranked up by strident sound FX and thudding drums. An eccentric end to an eccentric EP.

Sascha Funke is a Berlin-based producer and DJ with two decades' worth of releases building his back catalogue. BPitch Control, Turbo Recordings, Endless Flight, Running Back, and several more esteemed imprints have released his work. Today, he continues to create sleek sounds that weave various genres from house, techno, disco, Krautrock, wave, electro and unclassified anomalies. As a DJ, Funke is just as free-wheeling as his productions. He's played E1 in London, Caos in São Paulo and Renate in Berlin, amongst others, displaying his sweeping sound to a worldwide audience. Having been exposed to euro-dance pop as a youngster, you can hear flashes from the genre stitched throughout his work but blended in a way that's quintessential to Funke. Never one to change his sound according to the latest trend, Funke stays true to his creative vision — one of the most significant challenges for producers today.

Das traditionsreiche Kompakt-Imprint wird im September eine EP des deutschen DJs und Produzenten Sascha Funke veröffentlichen. Mit fünf Tracks, die sich durch schrulligen House und Techno auszeichnen, ist “Treets” Funkes monumentale Rückkehr zu Kompakt seit “ Zug um Zug” im Jahr 2014.

Im Gespräch über Treets sagt Funke, er sei "sehr glücklich, nach acht Jahren Pause wieder auf dem Mutterschiff Kompakt zu sein". Wie bei Funke nicht anders zu erwarten, passt die EP hervorragend in die kosmische Welt von Kompakt. Der Titeltrack vermittelt eine seltsame, abgedrehte Atmosphäre, wenn eine außerirdisch anmutende Stimme zwischen einer Acid-Bassline und quietschenden Perkussionsinstrumenten dahinplätschert. Es ist ein verlockender Einblick in Funkes freakige Unterwelt. “E-Plus” geht in eine ähnliche Richtung, nur dass dieses Mal die Stimmung bedrohlich ist. Funke paart einen orchestralen Gesang mit bleepigen Pads und seiner typischen Acid-getränkten Melodie - ein solides Angebot voller Energie. Auf “Alles Paletti” schaffen ein 2-Step-Drum-Pattern und eine Reihe heller Claps eine sonnige Klanglandschaft, die durch eine robuste Bassline und ätherische Synthesizernoten ergänzt wird. Das ist märchenhafte House-Musik, wie sie nur Funke produzieren kann. Der vorletzte Track Haus More ist zurückhaltend, da tuckernde Drums zwischen einer wackeligen Melodie schlittern. “Treets (The Other Version)” fühlt sich futuristisch an, weil Funke hier voll auf Elektro setzt. Der außerirdische Gesang kehrt zurück, aber das Tempo wird durch schrille Soundeffekte und stampfende Drums angezogen. Ein exzentrisches Ende für eine exzentrische EP.

Sascha Funke ist ein in Berlin ansässiger Produzent und DJ mit einem Backkatalog von zwei Jahrzehnten an Veröffentlichungen. BPitch Control, Turbo Recordings, Endless Flight, Running Back und einige andere angesehene Labels haben seine Arbeiten veröffentlicht. Heute kreiert er weiterhin geschmeidige Sounds, die verschiedene Genres wie House, Techno, Disco, Krautrock, Wave, Electro und unklassifizierte Anomalien miteinander verweben. Als DJ ist Funke genauso freizügig wie seine Produktionen. Er hat unter anderem im E1 in London, im Caos in São Paulo und im Renate in Berlin aufgelegt und seinen mitreißenden Sound einem weltweiten Publikum vorgestellt. Da er schon als Jugendlicher mit Eurodance in Berührung kam, sind in seiner Arbeit immer wieder Anklänge an dieses Genre zu hören, die aber auf eine Art und Weise vermischt werden, die ganz typisch für Funke ist. Niemals verändert Funke seinen Sound nach dem neuesten Trend, sondern bleibt seiner kreativen Vision treu - eine der größten Herausforderungen für Produzenten heutzutage.

Da die Geschichtsschreibung von Punk eine überwiegend männliche ist, war eine "Rache der She-Punks" längst überfällig. Verfasst wurde diese feministische Abrechnung von keiner geringeren als der Post-Punk-Pionierin Vivien Goldman, die aufgrund ihrer Arbeit als Musikerin und Musikjournalistin eine Insider-Perspektive besitzt. Entlang vier Themenfeldern - Identität, Geld, Liebe und Protest - begibt sich die "Punk-Professorin" auf die Suche nach empowernden Momenten, die Punk speziell für Frauen birgt. Inspiriert vom Buch (die deutsche Übersetzung erschien 2021 im Ventil Verlag) hat Vivien Goldman die vorliegende Compilation neu zusammengestellt und mit Liner Notes versehen.

Atomnation marks its 100th release with Peter, Barbara, Beth & Friends, the stunning debut album from Blomfelt & Narby. The immersive nine-track record arrives on August 26th and is a widescreen listen that fuses acoustic and electronic sounds with loose field recordings and tightly programmed drums.

Finnish-born Henrik Blomfelt grew up in Gaspar Narby's homeland of Switzerland, but the pair met on the dance floor of a pool club in Peckham while studying in London. Gaspar’s indie pop solo project was rewarded with a broad sweep of tastemaker tips from new music and electronica media alike, while Henrik had co-founded Resolution, an audio-visual collective and event series. The two eventually moved in together, but it's only a couple of years later, when Gaspar visited Henrik’s homeland of Finland, that they began making music together. They wrote half of the tracks that appear on the LP there, using an old piano, a cassette recorder found on location and their laptops. The second half was finished back in London.

Black Truffle is thrilled to continue its program of archival releases from Arnold Dreyblatt with a recently unearthed concert recording from Dreyblatt and Paul Panhuysen’s "Duo Geloso". While isolated examples of Dreyblatt’s collaboration with the legendary Dutch multi-media artist appeared on the CD reissue of Propellers in Love and Black Truffle’s wide-ranging archival Second Selection, this is the first release to document the variety and playfulness of the concerts that Duo Geloso performed throughout Europe in 1987-88. Both working across sonic and visual forms, fascinated by numerical relationship and the infinite complexity of string harmonics, Dreyblatt and Panhuysen had a natural affinity for each other’s work, strengthened through Dreyblatt’s many visits to Het Apollohuis, the important experimental art space Panhuysen helped to found in Eindhoven. However, as René van Peer suggests in the liner notes enclosed within this release, Dreyblatt and Panhuysen took very different approaches to these shared interests; the wonderful energy of these Duo Geloso performances results from the meeting of Dreyblatt’s more austere, compositional process with Panhuysen’s spontaneity.

Recorded at a concert at Het Apollohuis in December 1987 (a series of beautiful photographs of which adorn the LP’s packaging), each of the six pieces presented here is distinctive in terms of instrumentation and performance approach. Using electric guitar and bass tuned by Dreyblatt and played using E-Bow and Panhuysen’s motorised plectrums, the opening ‘Razorburg’ moves slowly through a long series of held notes with a madly insistent tremolo that crosses Dick Dale with a mechanised take on the layered guitars of Günter Schickert. The same pair of instruments returns on ‘Duo for Guitars’, where the mechanised attacks dissolve into a harmonic wash, reminiscent of the machine guitar work of fellow Het Apollohuis alumni Remko Scha. On ‘Love Call’, the guitars and bass are accompanied by Panhuysen’s distant warbled vocals, familiar to Maciunas Ensemble listeners. On the remarkable ‘Synsonic Batterie’, Panhuysen begins proceedings with a solo barrage of electronic percussion on the Synsonics Drum Machine (a simple drum synthesiser produced by the toy manufacturer Mattell), joined eventually by Dreyblatt performing his signature percussive natural harmonics on pedal steel guitar. When Panhuysen adds his bird whistle to the mix, the performance becomes the perfect exemplar of the Duo Geloso’s unique mix of studious close listening and subtle absurdity.

Presented in a gatefold sleeve with archival photos and illuminating liner notes from René van Peer.

"Full recording of one of the most engaging and beguiling Late Junction live sessions we’ve ever heard - the one off first meeting between Korean multi-instrumentalist Park Jiha and writer and performer Roy Claire Potter.
It’s an unlikely pairing which works from the first breath. Park Jiha plays the saenghwang, a Korean mouth organ which she blows in long multiphonics to set pace for Potter’s words. They unfurl a scene slowly in front of you, rich and focused, shifting your field of vision and drawing you in, elsewhere. It’s impossible not to follow, not to look for where they point. When the piri sounds for a flooded town on the B side, the water flows between your own feet; Potter’s words a sometimes frightening hörspiel in scouse.

Though the details are fine, the space each artist gives one another and their instruments, their language, is given to the listener in turn. A careful melody picks out a route for words with no fixed meaning, a body with no fixed direction, and we are invited to listen and see a kind of music made visible in its inference. A truly very special record we are very proud to share.
—
Influenced by linguistics and performance theory, Roy Claire Potter makes performance, text, drawing, installation and film, and oen collaborates with musicians and sound artists to make audio for music festivals and radio. Across the wide range of their practice, Roy tells stories built from fragmented, intense images that depict moving bodies or domestic scenes and architectural settings. Roy’s interest in subtext and narrative sequencing is felt in the way they use fast-paced talking or reading speeds, and restricted or partial views of space. Complicated social or group dynamics, and the aftermath of violent events are common themes in Roy’s work and are usually treated with a dark, sometimes wilful humour.

Park Jiha creates exploratory music rooted in traditional Korean instrumental performance. To this session she brings three instruments: a Korean hammered dulcimer called a yanggeum, a saenghwang which is an instrument made of 24 slender bamboo pipes attached to a bowl and played like a harmonica and a double-reed bamboo flute called a piri, which sounds similar to an oboe.
—
Recorded and mixed on: 30 January 2020 by Rob Winter, Pete Smith and Andy Rushton at Maida Vale Studios, London for “Late Junction - Roy Claire Potter and Park Jiha in session”. Produced by Rebecca Gaskell, Katie Callin and Alannah Chance at Reduced Listening for BBC Radio 3."

A match made in heaven and hell, since forming in the cradle of Europe Athens, back in 2012, dark synth duo Selofan have paved their own perditious way, reinventing the modern Darkwave scene throughout the continent and worldwide with their prolific creativity and work ethic over the past decade. Through varied experimental synth-scapes conjured with keen ears for sound design, production, and theatrical aesthetics, Selofan rest not on the laurels of just creating highly danceable coldwave infused music, but with together with Joanna Pavlidou's haunting vocals, and Dimitris Pavlidis' throbbing bass guitar, and modular synth compositions, the pair conjure whole other worlds and narratives throughout each album and music video they create. Thus far the Selofan have released 5 studio albums, issued through their own legendary label they curate themselves: Fabrika Records. Through their Fabrika family, Selofan have championed such acts as Lebanon Hanover, and She Past Away, aiding these bands in becoming two of the most popular Darkwave acts worldwide. Drab Majesty even cameoed in a She Past Away video while being hosted by Selofan during one of the band's frequent stays in Athens, and Kaelan Mikla, a handpicked favorite of The Cure, were first championed by Selofan, through the release of the Icelandic Trio's self-titled debut in 2016. In the Spring of 2020, Selofan released the video for the hopelessly plaintive "There Must Be Somebody", the first single from their forthcoming sixth studio album Partners In Hell, the follow-up to 2018's widely popular Vitrioli LP. "There Must be Somebody" is a discordant composition, mimicking the startled song of birds after a disturbance in a wooded enclave on a mountainside, while a magick ritual unfolds. The album itself opens with "Grey Gardens", a menagerie of morose melodies setting a sombre tone for the rest of a bleak record whose sound design and dreamscapes evoke the best sounds of British and German post-punk of the 80s. "Almost Nothing" is a brooding bell-driven track with a dark and pirouetting melody that is the perfect soundtrack to a figurine twirling in a music box. The German language "Nichts" means No, and this song is both sinister and cinematic with sighing keys, shuddering drum machines, and German lyrics sung with sorrowful conviction. "Zusamen", is a word often asked if you are together, or separate, is a dark ballad whose shadowy keys weave a nightmarish delirium, evoking the soundscapes of a lullaby sung in a haunted dollhouse. "4am" is a restless rhythm, whose soft percussive melody tosses and turns alongside subtle bass and string accents overlaid with despondent vocals. "Happy Consumers" sounds like the swirling of a finger drawn upon the edge of crystalline glass, with vocals and drum machines coming emanating from an adjacent room with echoing acoustics, collectively evoking the sound like lingers when the somnambulist wakes from his dream. "Absolutely Absent" hums onward like a phantom train ride that is a one-way ticket to madness, and with the next track "Metalic Isolation" the locomotive beats gather more steam, propelled forward with anachronistic melody. The album closes with "Auf Dein Haut", which translates as on your skin, and the song is both tactile and tenebrous with sensuously dark synth textures amidst howling German vocals that take flight like witches during a sabbat. Partner's In Hell was mixed and produced by Serafim Tsotsonis, and mastered by Doruk Ozturkcan. Genre: Alternative / Post-Punk / Cold Wave

FP030F pressed in half black half purple vinyl 500 copies hand-numbered. FP030G pressed in black with red splatter vinyl 500 copies hand-numbered. A match made in heaven and hell, since forming in the cradle of Europe Athens, back in 2012, dark synth duo Selofan have paved their own perditious way, reinventing the modern Darkwave scene throughout the continent and worldwide with their prolific creativity and work ethic over the past decade. Through varied experimental synth-scapes conjured with keen ears for sound design, production, and theatrical aesthetics, Selofan rest not on the laurels of just creating highly danceable coldwave infused music, but with together with Joanna Pavlidou's haunting vocals, and Dimitris Pavlidis' throbbing bass guitar, and modular synth compositions, the pair conjure whole other worlds and narratives throughout each album and music video they create. Thus far the Selofan have released 5 studio albums, issued through their own legendary label they curate themselves: Fabrika Records. Through their Fabrika family, Selofan have championed such acts as Lebanon Hanover, and She Past Away, aiding these bands in becoming two of the most popular Darkwave acts worldwide. Drab Majesty even cameoed in a She Past Away video while being hosted by Selofan during one of the band's frequent stays in Athens, and Kaelan Mikla, a handpicked favorite of The Cure, were first championed by Selofan, through the release of the Icelandic Trio's self-titled debut in 2016. In the Spring of 2020, Selofan released the video for the hopelessly plaintive "There Must Be Somebody", the first single from their forthcoming sixth studio album Partners In Hell, the follow-up to 2018's widely popular Vitrioli LP. "There Must be Somebody" is a discordant composition, mimicking the startled song of birds after a disturbance in a wooded enclave on a mountainside, while a magick ritual unfolds. The album itself opens with "Grey Gardens", a menagerie of morose melodies setting a sombre tone for the rest of a bleak record whose sound design and dreamscapes evoke the best sounds of British and German post-punk of the 80s. "Almost Nothing" is a brooding bell-driven track with a dark and pirouetting melody that is the perfect soundtrack to a figurine twirling in a music box. The German language "Nichts" means No, and this song is both sinister and cinematic with sighing keys, shuddering drum machines, and German lyrics sung with sorrowful conviction. "Zusamen", is a word often asked if you are together, or separate, is a dark ballad whose shadowy keys weave a nightmarish delirium, evoking the soundscapes of a lullaby sung in a haunted dollhouse. "4am" is a restless rhythm, whose soft percussive melody tosses and turns alongside subtle bass and string accents overlaid with despondent vocals. "Happy Consumers" sounds like the swirling of a finger drawn upon the edge of crystalline glass, with vocals and drum machines coming emanating from an adjacent room with echoing acoustics, collectively evoking the sound like lingers when the somnambulist wakes from his dream. "Absolutely Absent" hums onward like a phantom train ride that is a one-way ticket to madness, and with the next track "Metalic Isolation" the locomotive beats gather more steam, propelled forward with anachronistic melody. The album closes with "Auf Dein Haut", which translates as on your skin, and the song is both tactile and tenebrous with sensuously dark synth textures amidst howling German vocals that take flight like witches during a sabbat. Partner's In Hell was mixed and produced by Serafim Tsotsonis, and mastered by Doruk Ozturkcan.