Suche:ben answer

Ever since the late 1950s bossa-nova revolution, Brazil’s influence on French music has been undeniable. Pierre Barouh, Georges Moustaki and a vast array of lesser known artists, all made the Musica Popular Brasileira (MPB) an axis of promotion at the service of a cool and metaphysical, modern and mixed Brazilian lifestyle. Some were seduced by the poetic languors of the bossa, some were looking for fun, and others just loved the American hybridization of jazz-bossa, jazz-samba.



What is bossa nova? One of its creators, Joao Gilberto said: "Its style, cadence, everything is samba. At the very start, we didn't call it bossa nova, we sang a little samba made up of a single note - Samba de uma nota so .... The discussion around the origins of bossa nova is therefore useless”. It is nevertheless useful to remember that these magnificent Brazilian songs, which the guitarist describes as samba, were shifted and balanced around improbable chords. "I like things that lean, the in-betweens that limp with grace," said Pierre Barrouh, quoting Jean Cocteau.



With emotion, arrangements for violin and supple guitar licks, bossa nova rapidly changed. A transformation that can be heard in the Tchic, tchic, French Bossa Nova 1963-1974 compilation, the result of a cultural reappropriation, which traveled through the United States and supplemented itself in France.

A musical revolution that has remained significant, bossa nova was born in Rio. From 1956 to 1961, Brazil lived through its golden years. In five years, the country had invented its modernist style. Elected president in 1956, Juscelino Kubitschek de Oliveira, an elegant man with a broad forehead, brandished a promising slogan: "Fifty years of progress in five years". He quickly got to work. Not worried about increasing debt, he launched the project for a new federal capital, Brasilia, designed by the communist architect Oscar Niemeyer. Volkswagen opened state-of-the-art factories and created the “fusquinha”, the Beetle. In Rio, the Vespa made its first appearance. The Arpoador Surf Club crew run into the “girl” from Ipanema, Helô Pinheiro - the tanned garota ("chick"), between a flower and mermaid, who at 17 walked by the Veloso bar, where the fiery author and composer, Tom Jobim and Vinicius de Moraes, were getting drunk on whiskey. From then on, bossa symbolized cool.

In 1958, Joao Gilberto recorded Chega de Saudade, which the directors of Philips denied, calling it "music for fagots". The marketing director, who believed in it, secretly pressed 3000 78-inch vinyls and distributed them at schools around Rio, creating a tidal wave.

American jazzmen then took over. In particular, trumpeter Dizzy Gillespie and guitarist Charlie Byrd. In November 1962, the Brazilian Ministry of Foreign Affairs funded a "Bossa-Nova" concert at Carnegie Hall in New York, inviting the genre’s pioneers. Unprepared, the show soon turned to disaster. But the troupe was invited to the White House by Jackie Kennedy. The first lady loved "the new beat" and in particular Maria Ninguem, a song by Carlos Lyra, later covered by Brigitte Bardot.

In Brazil, the 1964 military coup quickly ended this euphoria. The destructive atmosphere that ensued pushed many Brazilian musicians to leave, if not to exile. Thus, Tom Jobim, Sergio Mendes and Joao Gilberto arrived to the United States. In New York, Joao Gilberto met saxophonist Stan Getz. At the time, he was married to the Bahianese Astrud Weinert Gilberto, who had a German father. She had never sung before, but she knew how to speak English. Getz therefore asked her to replace her husband on The Girl From Ipanema. The Getz/Gilberto record with Tom Jobim on piano, was released in March 1964. Phil Ramone, the "pope of pop" was in charge of sound.

Bossa nova arrived in Paris through the classic “guitar-voice” channel (Pierre Barouh, Baden Powell, Moustaki…) But France loved jazz and Paris had already welcomed its American contributors. All these good people were to pass through Saint-Germain-des-Prés. The cabaret l'Escale became the Mecca of Latin American sound where one could find Pierre Barrouh and his friends, such as the Camara Trio, samba-jazz aces, whose only record was published by the Saravah label. With a band strangely called Les Masques (a band that included Nicole Croisille and Pierre Vassiliu, among others), the Camara Trio recorded an interesting Brazilian Sound, including the track Il faut tenir which is present on this tasty compilation of rarities.

Other enlightened musicians can also be found on the compilation, such as Jean-Pierre Sabar (songwriter for Hardy, Auffray, Leforestier ...) and the French pop rock organist Balthazar. In 1975, Sabar recorded Aurinkoinen Musiikkimatka on a Finnish label, which featured the crazy Vai, Vai, included on this record. We are now following the footsteps of Brazilian electronic musicians such as Sergio Mendes, Eumir Deodato or Marcos Valle who created funk and disco sounds on their keyboards and synthesizers. A style that influenced Véronique Sanson when she wrote Jusqu’à la Tombée de la nuit in 1969 for Isabelle de Funès, the niece of Louis and a great friend of Michel Berger - Sanson did end up singing this track on her 1992 Sans Regret record.


The pinnacle of exoticism and travel, Sylvia Fels’ Corto Maltese includes bongos, sea mist and ocean sounds. The title was taken from Jacky Chalard’s concept album written in 1974, Je suis vivant, mais j’ai peur (I am alive, but I am scared), based on Gilbert Deflez’s science fiction novel.


However, bossa nova extended the scope of popularity. "In the 1970s, I was a fan of Sergio Mendes, Getz / Gilberto. I fell in love with this music that I knew because I had been an orchestral singer, " explained Isabelle Aubret, who in 1971 delivered a composite record of covers by the very funky Jorge Ben, Orfeu Negro, Tom Jobim, Vinicius de Morais and Jean Ferrat. "I recorded this album for Meys Records in Paris, far from Brazil, with wonderful musicians, François Raubert, Roland Vincent, Alain Goraguer...". The latter wrote the arrangements for Casa Forte, a very percussive title borrowed from Edu Lobo, one of the initiators of the bossa who spent time in California. "Jazz and bossa came together and produced very rhythmic music. I love singing, it allows me to dream, to have fun, to feel a high on stage, and these songs brought me joy, made me swing, my singing felt like a dance.”


The world tours of French singers and their desire for the tropics, often brought them to Rio with its hills, forests, caipirinhas and tanned bodies. There are surprises though, like this Iemenja (Iemenja is the goddess of the sea in the Afro-Brazilian candomblé religion). Not unlike the composer and musician Jean-Pierre Lang, based in Sao Paulo, Claire Chevalier taught Brazil to Brazil. In 1970, the singer and painter published a 45-inch vinyl, Mon mari et mes amants (My husband and my lovers), under the improbable pseudonym of Clarinha (little Claire). She was then living in Rio, with her husband, Joël Leibovitz, who founded a band called Azimuth, and who owned a record label specialized in "sambas enredos" songs for samba school parades.


For its B side, she asked Pierre Perret to come up with lyrics for a song composed by Carlos Imperial: "Oh goddess of the sea, o goddess Iemenja, I bring a white rose to adorn your long hair ..." . "Perret came to see us, and we had fun, remembers Joël Leibovitz. We wrote Lemenja for fun, we recorded it at the Havaí studio, behind the Central do Brasil the central station. Erlon Chaves, the arranger who worked with Elis Regina, joined us" adding his share of Afro-Brazilian percussions and funky brass to the mix.

There is a common misunderstanding in Franco-Brazilian history: that bossa, admittedly hedonistic, is perceived as funny, even though the poets who wrote the texts are often philosophizing on the human condition. Its French interpreters pull it towards a carnival inspired universe, far removed from its fundamental essence. Thus, Jean Constantin covered the famous Samba da minha terra, an ode to the art of samba written by the classic Bahian composer Dorival Caymmi, renaming it with the enticing title of Pas tant de tchi tchi pompon: "On your pier there is no tchi tchi / when you arch your back, you know everything is alright ”(lyrics by Gérard Calvi). This expedited bossa aims for the absurd, but retains a certain elegance.

Indeed, Jean Constantin was not an idiot, the rather large man had a huge mustache and liked fantasy, (Les pantoufles à papa, Le pacha, inspired by cha-cha-cha-cha, salsa and jazz) but he was also the lyricist of Mon manège à moi interpreted by Edith Piaf, the composer of Mon Truc en plume by Zizi Jeanmaire and the soundtrack of François Truffaut’s 400 Blows. Le Poulpe, published in 1970, from which this bossa is extract, was arranged by Jean-Claude Vannier, an accomplice of Serge Gainsbourg’s Melody Nelson. In short: "There is enough of samba / By looking at the parasol / Because my poor cabeza / Is going to die in the sun".

Even the American actress Marpessa Down, who was at the heart of the bossa nova revolution with her role as Euridyce in Marcel Camus’ film Orfeu Negro, winner of the 1959 Cannes Palme d'or, fed the clichée with Je voudrais parler au petit cuica - "Tell me how you manage to always make people want to dance / It's true, I must admit that I cannot resist your magic" - in consequence, once can hear the cuica, a little drum inherited from the Bantu.


But bossa nova had many angles. Societal, of course, pushing actresses who were symbols of women's liberation like Brigitte Bardot, Jeanne Moreau, or Sophia Loren to engage in the exercise of accelerated bossa. In February of 1963, Sophia Loren made a record in French in Rome, Je ne t'aime plus, featuring the song De jour en jour, a bossa written by two Italians, Armando Trovajoli and Tino Fornai, which was released a little later by Barclay. Bossa accompanied the 1960s, a decade of moral liberation. Ann Sorel, who interpreted La Poupée des favellas, caused a sensation with L’amour à plusieurs, a provocative song written by Frédéric Bottom and Jean-Claude Vannier. As for the actress Andrea Parisy, she displayed her bourgeois cheekiness in Marcel Carné's Les Tricheurs before interpreting Les mains qui font du bien. And Magalie Noël, the friend of Boris Vian, who sung Johnny fais-moi mal, was hired to sing Une énorme Samba, composed by Alain Goraguer (arranger to Gainsbourg, Bobby Lapointe and Jean Ferrat) with lyrics by Frédéric Botton.

But in the end, of what wood is bossa nova made of? The answer is given by Christianne Legrand, daughter of Raymond the conductor, and sister to Michel the composer: "With me, with jà" - jà means "immediately" in Portuguese. In 1972, the singer, an expert in vocal jazz and a member of the Double Six, published Le Brésil de Christianne Legrand. Two songs included on the Tchic Tchic compilation that demonstrate how bossa, jazz, funk, rock, etc. work like a swiss army knife: the music is used to denounce broken systems, or miracles, HLM et ciné roman, Cent mille poissons dans ton filet, two songs from the O Cafona soundtrack, a successful telenovela broadcast, at the time in black and white, on TV Globo. The first was adapted in French by the fighter and friend of the Legrand tribe, Agnès Varda. The second is content with a play on words, jostling them into a summer fun.



Véronique Mortaigne

Repress of the 1 st album of the fresh Afro funk sensation ! Recorded on analog equipment in Lyon in 2014 !



Peter Solo is a singer and composer born in Aného-Glidji, Togo, the birthplace of the Guin tribe and a major site of the Voodoo culture. He was raised with this tradition’s values of respect for all forms of life and the environment. With his new band, Vaudou Game, Peter Solo claims, and spreads this spiritual and musical heritage. Chants are at the heart of the Voodoo practice, but for times immemorial, harmonic instruments have never accompanied them. No balafon, no kora - only the “skins” support the singers. However, in 2012, Peter, along with his band based in Lyon, France, decided to explore and codify the musical scales that are found in sacred or profane songs of Beninese and Togolese Voodoo so they can be played easily on modern instruments. Peter composed the album Apiafo, using the two main musical scales of this tradition. The first musical scale on Apiafo leans towards raw Funk with a sound similar to the famous 70’s bands, L’Orchestre Poly Rythmo De Cotonou and El Rego. Funk, is the skeletal structure of this record, and provided the opportunity for Peter to invite his uncle, Roger Damawuzan - the famous pioneer of the 70s Soul scene - on two tracks. Their collaboration on “Pas Contente” is a highlight on this 100% analog album. Apiafo was entirely recorded, mixed and mastered with old tapes and vintage instruments. The second scale, which had never before been transposed for instruments, evokes deeper feelings and a sacred ambiance. The moving song Ata, an invocation to a supreme divinity is another highlight of this record. Even if some can recognize similarities between this scale and Ethiopian scales, they are in fact different. Peter, the only African band member, introduced the other musicians to the universal values of Voodoo and he taught them his native language. On the recording of Apiafo and during their live performances, the musicians all sing and answer Peter in the Mina language. The strive for authenticity, the analog sound and vintage looks don’t mean that Vaudou Game is looking backwards. This is Togolese funk, born in the post-colonial era but that never before explored its ancient roots so deeply and proudly.



Antoine RAJON

Back To Life EP marks the rebirth of a seasoned artist stepping into a fresh chapter as
Just Marco. This first record in the Bending Body series comes after a long run of
exploration and self-reset, chasing raw honesty and identity built for vinyl-only cuts.
The record links past and present: rough drum work, evocative pads, bright acid lines, all
pressed on wax to echo the moments and people that shaped Marco along the way.
Musically, Back To Life it’s a blend where nothing is forced, where unusual choices and
imperfections are embraced as part of a renewed creative philosophy. It’s a return to the
music life where intuition leads and authenticity sets the tone.
Enjoy.

A DJ, producer and prolific collaborator, Greg Paulus’s musical career has led to a truly enviable discography. Born in Minnesota and now an essential part of New York’s sprawling musical landscape, Paulus has taken the foundations of an organic childhood education by his father, the composer Stephen Paulus, and seen it blossom into an unpredictable musical journey encompassing house, soul, jazz and hip-hop.

While touring as a trumpet player with indie band Beirut, as well as in Matthew Dear’s live ensemble, back home he was helping to redefine New York’s underground dance scene as one half of No Regular Play. Alongside childhood friend Nick DeBruyn, the pair brought their deeply musical sound to no less than fifty countries across the world. A decade on, and Paulus arrives on Seth Troxler’s Slacker 85 imprint for his long-awaited debut solo LP, ‘Close To Home’, a deeply felt long-play celebration of his personal cornerstones; family, trust and hope.

From the opening, organic swell of ‘Perot’, arranged with Seth Troxler himself alongside John Camp, ‘Close To Home’ introduces itself as a focused, conscious trip, it’s languid trumpet spilling over into the reflective ‘World Keeps Changing’, which introduces Paulus’s philosophy of music as a constant. ‘Midtown Mirage’ meanwhile leans into the idea of the city itself as a collaborator, resisting pressure and finding its own restful groove. Back over the river, ‘Bond’ roots itself in Brooklyn with a contribution from resident Dillon Cooper, flipping rap standards amid psychedelic flourishes.

Paulus nods toward his dancefloor form on ‘NRG’, a slinky, lo-slung club groove that seamlessly evolves to meld the artist’s nocturnal and studio instincts. In contrast, ‘Real Job’ switches the tempo on Paulus’s MPC to embody an old-school, beatdown flavour, subtly teased out alongside composer and sound designer, Taylor Bense. Doubling down on this languorous groove, ‘Hat Down’ introduces a full-scale No Regular Play reunion, the first of two collaborative tracks that recall the duo’s imperial phase of confidently minimal productions, while evolving their craft.

Following a few missed calls made with love taken from Paulus’s answering machine on ‘$1000’ the minimal, reflective arrangement of ‘Hold Dear’ finds the artist stripping back his layered sound for a skittering, vulnerable exploration of intimacy and life’s devotions.

For a memorable finale, Paulus recruits jazz prodigy Michael Feinberg to deliver upright funk on the deliciously rich ‘Sometimes It’s About Us’. A purely celebratory collage of bopping rhythms and vocals, sharply plucked guitars and archive samples, ‘Close To Home’ concludes with Paulus leading his friends, ensemble and many influences in rare harmony.

Looking back on her career in the early 90s, Stevie Nicks described the first track of Rock a Little as “the most exciting song that I had ever heard.” This coming from a superstar who was already closely affiliated with several bajillion-selling Fleetwood Mac albums — to say nothing of her own benchmark solo debut. Her remarks attest to the enthusiasm and effort she invested in her third record, a 1985 work that quickly furthered Nicks’ profile and cemented itself as a piece of 80s pop lore.

Mastered at MoFi’s California studio, pressed at Fidelity Record Pressing in California, strictly limited to 4,000 numbered copies, and housed in a Stoughton gatefold jacket, Mobile Fidelity’s 180g 45RPM 2LP set presents Rock a Little in audiophile sound for its 40th anniversary. Helmed by a cadre of producers and engineers, and recorded for a reported one million dollars, the platinum-certified album teems with a head-spinning array of colors, tones, dreamscapes, and accents. This reference-grade reissue marks the first time they are all brought to light and conveyed with proper balance, dimensionality, and positioning.

Though Rock a Little doubtlessly has period characteristics of a mid-80s LP, Nicks and company spare no expense when it comes to distinguishing the music with expansive sonics distinguished with lush melodies, high-tech percussion, echoing vocals, sampled keyboards, and layers of sophisticated accents. The degrees of spaciousness, headroom, and dynamics are nothing less than inspiring, while the newly enhanced detail, texture, and clarity make the songs sing like never before. As for Nicks’ voice? Wait ’til you experience the transparency and depth.

Those advantages extend, of course, to the aforementioned “I Can’t Wait,” a statement-making opener shot through with modulating synthesizers, splashy drums, metallic guitars, and serious drama. Holed up in a massive studio, Nicks required just one take to nail her part, which she called “magic and simply not able to beat.” The singer-songwriter also distilled the reverberating emotional essence of the Top 20 tune, stating “when I hear it on the radio, this incredible feeling comes over me, like something really incredible is about to happen.”

The same can be said for nearly all of Rock a Little. Crafted by the likes of Songwriters Hall of Fame multi-instrumentalist/producer Rick Nowels, Heartbreakers organist Benmont Tench, bassist Bob Glaub, jack-of-all-trades Greg Phillinganes, and session-pro guitarists Waddy Watchel, Les Dudek, and Danny Kortchmar — along with another two dozen or so participants — the record spills with diverse ideas, shapes, and moods. Everything is in the right place, as evidenced by the swirling glide and sensual undertow of the slightly funky title track to the snapping rhythmic pace and big hooks of “Imperial Hotel,” one of Nicks’ standout moments.

“What was it she wanted?” Nicks queries on “No Spoken Word,” continuing a theme of contemplation that runs through the narratives. Nicks never lands on a definite answer, but hearing her explore loneliness, love, and the secrets we keep to ourselves proves continuously rewarding. Take her passionate performance on a cover of Chas Sanford’s “Talk to Me,” a Top 5 smash furthered by tasteful saxophone lines and understated folk elements. Immersive yourself in the grand sonic corridors of “If I Were You,” laden with Nicks’ signature mysticism.

Moreover, surrender to the gravitas of the closing “Has Anyone Ever Written Anything for You,” a piano ballad composed about the death of Joe Walsh’s three-year-old daughter. As Nicks asserts earlier on the album, she sings for things money can’t buy.

So, rock a little, yes, but dare to feel even more.

The story of So-Do is both familiar and completely unique. A classically trained multi-instrumentalist with a poet’s sensibility and a passion for folk music meets a worldly bar owner with a love for psychedelia, post-punk and dub in the small town neither could bring themselves to leave. Over two years, they play dozens of shows in independent live houses across Japan, cut and self-release three singles – two 7”s and a 12” – and leave behind just eight tracks, all of which are set to be reissued for the first time forty years on.

So-Do’s Studio Works ’83-’85 collects the full output of this iconoclastic post-punk phenomenon, whose sparse, syncopated arrangements were infused with a dubbed-out flair that owed more to Dennis Bovell’s productions of Orange Juice, the Jah Wobble basslines of Public Image Limited or Adrian Sherwood’s live dubs of Mark Stewart than even they knew at the time.

Because for lead songwriter Hideshi Akuta, music offered an escape from the existential malaise of small-town life, folding a melancholy nihilism into tracks like ‘Kakashi’ and ‘Hashiru’ (which translates as ‘run’), or taking aim at the inequalities and creeping apathies of the middle classes, as he does on ‘Get Away’ and ‘Nothing’.

And if Talking Heads had CBGBs, Sex Pistols had the Roxy, then So-Do had Buddha. Influenced by Buddha venue owner and amateur producer Atsuo Takeuchi, Akuta turned So-Do’s sound towards dub, crafting playful, ironic and funky compositions that crackle with live energy at the vanguard of Japan’s nascent independent music scene.“So-Do is hard to explain,” Takeuchi says. “It’s been a struggle for years to try to find the words for our music.” The answer perhaps, is just to listen.

Both familiar and completely unique, So-Do extend Time Capsule’s genre-defining exposition of Japan’s reggae-inspired music of the ‘70s and ‘80s, as collected on the label’s two critically acclaimed Tokyo Riddim compilations, and London-based live outfit Tokyo Riddim Band.

Embracing the rip-it-up-and-start-again ethos of the early ‘80s, So-Do burned bright for a short time and then burned out. Their legacy is about to be reignited. Expect it to catch alight once more.


All songs are written & composed by Hideshi Akuta

Produced by Atsuo Takeuchi

Artwork by Ben Arfur
Liner Notes by Anton Spice, Ayana Honma, Kay Suzuki

Curated by Kay Suzuki

Licensed from Atsuo Takeuchi (Oregano Cafe)

Tape Restoration and Mastered by Mike Hillier at Metropolis Studios, London, UK

Time Capsule | TIME023 | 1983-1985 → 2025

Köhncke rides again with another 12“ having 2 sides that couldn‘t be more different: the A-Side, „Timecode“, is a clock-ticking electronic disco tease promising a joyous release by building up tremendous expectations over its course of 8 minutes – and of course not delivering the final dance floor orgasm since the night has to continue in mutual happiness and expectations on the floor. But well, surely lots of „pre-cum“ spreaded...

The „flip“, „The Answer Is Yes“, displays Köhncke‘s love with The Beatles or Prefab Sprout and the likes, in a masterly programmed digital simulation of the „played“ sound of the likes (Köhncke cannot play any „real instruments“ except for a bit of Barré-Punk-Guitar). It‘s a love metaphor about 2 photons in „entanglement“, which is a proven very psychedelic effect in quantum physics. The photons are „entangled“ and „know“ each other‘s „spin“ in immediacy, thus not bent to the speed of light, even if they are 100000 light years from each other - a theory that even Einstein considered absurd when the pioneers of quantum physics came up with this in the 1930s. So Justus put his fascination with quantum physics into a pop love song metaphor – how much more do you want?

Köhncke kommt zurück mit einer 12“ - 2 Seiten, wie sie unterschiedlicher nicht sein könnten: Die A-Seite, „Timecode“, ist eine tickende elektronische Disco-Versuchungs-Zeitbombe, die über ihre Laufzeit von über 8 Minuten extreme Erlösungsversprechen macht, sie aber selbstverständlich nicht in einem endfinalen Floor-Orgasmus auflöst, denn die Nacht soll ja weitergehen in gemeinsamer Glücklichkeit und Erwartung auf der Tanzfläche. Allerdings, eine Menge „pre-cum“ wird schon versprüht in dieser unwiderstehlichen Spannungserzeugung von Track.

Die „flipside“, „The Answer Is Yes“, stellt Köhnckes Liebe zu den Beatles oder Prefab Sprout etc. ins Licht, in einer meisterhaft programmierten digitalen Simulation des „gespielten“ Sounds der Großmeister (Köhncke kann keine „echten Instrumente“ spielen außer ein bißchen Baréegriff-Punk-Rhythmusgitarre, sein Instrument ist der Sequenzer). Es ist eine Liebesmetapher über zwei Photonen im Zustand der „Verschränkung“, was ein heute wissenschaftlich nachgewiesenes extrem psychedelisches Phänomen aus der Welt der Quantenmechanik ist: die Photonen sind „verschränkt“ und „kennen“ ihren aktuellen „Spin“ (Rotationsrichtung des Teilchens) unmittelbar, also nicht gebunden an die Lichtgeschwindigkeit. Auch wenn sie 100000 Lichtjahre voneneinander entfernt sind – eine Theorie, die sogar Einstein absurd fand („Spukhafte Fernwirkung“), als die Pioniere der Quantenphysik sie in den 1930er Jahren postulierten. Köhncke verewigt seine Faszination für Quantenphysik hier also in Form eine Retro-Pop-Lovesong-Methapher – was will man mehr?
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Next up on Nuremberg label Kias is an accomplished and subtle recording from Tripeo who follows up releases on Ben Sims label and Clone with his Robber Barons EP.

The very prolific ATD Records Founder, Gustavo Lima, brings 5 techno cuts on Tar Hallow for the first release of 2024. Early support by: Amotik, Answer Code Request, Ben Klock, Charlton, Chontane, Gary Beck, Kessell / Exium, Krenzlin, Kwartz, Leiras, Marco Bailey, Nastia, Perc, Steffi, W.I.R.E. and more.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Chloé Robinson & DJ ADHD still aren’t short on fuel. In fact, they seem to only be boosted further by their own supply. With such a weighty momentum driving forward their newly established identities, only one big question sits adjacent in the saddle: what’s next? It seems that Chloé and Alex already have the answer for today’s daily summon, and for the next Pretty Weird release, it’s a 4-track techno record reiterating the trusted adage of less being more. With an emphasis on space and silence placed intuitively, the first single from the ‘Steamin’ EP finally gets its much anticipated drop - including a killer remix from close friend Four Tet stamped on in classic, inimitable style.

‘Steamin’ is all serrated kicks, 909 drums and tenacious vocals that yell without inhibition, invoking the looseness of a party spiralling unphased into its collective apex.. ‘Redbull’ scales up on the pyrotechnics and rowdy behaviour, taking the sensation of several shots of caffeine and packaging it into a mean, raucous pick-me-up.

For ‘Pax’, Chloé and Alex continue on the stripped back disorder with white-hot conviction through rhythm and textures that find their power through no-frills, unpretentious simplicity. Kieran Hebden steps up for the remix, nodding back in appreciation to the past through the nestling of a sharply redefined ‘Pulse X’ sample alongside his addictive, punchy production all too suited to those can’t-go-home-just-yet stints.

Early support from artists including Four Tet, Peggy Gou, Jamie XX, Floating Points, Ben UFO, Caribou, Skrillex, Mary Anne Hobbs, Bradley Zero, Bonobo, Saoirse, Zenker Brothers, TSHA, HAAi, I. Jordan, Logic1000 and Pearson Sound.

‘.dev’ was yet another collaborative piece from Agoria, aka Sebastien Devaud. As well as Blasé and STS, who returned after featuring on ‘Drift’, Devaud worked with Domino’s Ela Minus, flamenco innovator Niño De Elche, and the unique hip hop delivery of Rome Fortune across the LP, with additional collaborators including Sacha Rudy and Oscar winner (The Sound of Metal), Nicolas Becker.



Sonically, the LP saw Agoria presenting a kaleidoscopic haze of cinematic and evolving electronica that touched on house, techno, electro, hip hop, and beyond but beneath the aesthetics, ‘.dev’ was the work of an artist asking himself questions in order to create worlds out of his answers.



Beyond looking to question the very systems of the traditional album format, his holistic approach to AI and NFT’s within the thematic world of his work were laid out front and centre through the visual and conceptual identity surrounding the album.

“Dance dance otherwise we are lost” is a raw and insightful EP with 5 non-conformist tracks ranging from the hard hitting yet poetic peak time 141bpm Trans TanzTheater to Orbits of Happiness 135bpm an unstoppable rhythmic force carrying the weight of a thousand lives. Woven by an orchestra of synths and their unescapable gravitational force, pulling you in – ever developing, ever growing.

Next up is Incessant Maze 139bpm a projection of the mind itself. A mechanism of transcendence and transformation. A raw and ready psychedelic techno assault to shake your mind out of your body and back into again.

Following the three originals are two very special remixes from Filmmaker and Polanski that bend time and space: a blissfully dark slow tempo remix of “Orbits of Happiness” by London’s experimental techno Producer/DJ/Promoter all-in-all powerhouse Polanski. At 120bpm, the “Is this happiness?” remix has had its question answered already by the sensational feedback received so far: A sultry timeless cut. There’s no way to escape. Not that you would want to, anyway.

Finishing it off, undoubtedly one of the standout artists in 2019 rising star Colombian producer Faunes Efes’ Filmmaker project has released a slew of incredible albums and EP’s this year already. Here he delivers “The Quandary” a wild and psychedelic cut of Incessant Maze merging hypnotic vocals with an ever driving percussive power that is already getting some special support in Europe and South America 130bpm.

DJ Support
Nathan Micay, Madam X, Ben UFO, Extrawelt, Answer Code Request, Mosca, Foul Play, Crazy P (Hot Toddy), Lauer, Ben Sims, Om Unit, Martyn Bootyspoon, hrdvsion, Nick Craddock, Kikelomo, Laurent Garnier, Carl Craig, Addison Groove, My Nu Leng, Anja Schneider, Ame, Kassian, Orde Meikle (Slam), Richie Hawtin, DJ Autumn (Banoffee Pies), Henry Greenleaf, Rhyw, Fault Lines, Bake, Sly-One, Mak & Pasteman, Littlefoot + more

Have Isaac Carter & Callum Asa made the most tasteful tech house EP of recent memory? The short answer is
yes....

Isaac and Callum, known for their respective club nights: OCHI and Planet People have been quietly chipping away at the coalface of underground dance music for quite some time now.

Isaac - perhaps known more widely as a regular at Circoloco & Phonox has shared bills with the likes of Moodyman, DJ Bone, Kai Alce, Laurent Garnier and Marcellus Pittmann whilst being championed by Joy Orbison, Ben UFO, Moxie, Seth Troxler, Raresh and Floating Points to name but a few. With such an impressive CV and wide ranging support, it’s wild to note that the first EP released on his own label, OCHI only came out in 2023. His star is clearly ascending with rapidity - so when we throw long term collaborator Callum Asa into the mix, things start to get really interesting. Calum has been running Planet People for the last couple of years, welcoming incredible names such as Shed, Surgeon, Willow, Ploy, Cooly G, Rroxymore and so many more. Steel sharpens steel and having been surrounded by such esteemed talent, it’s clearly rubbed off on the pair who present 4 polished, meticulously constructed, club ready masterpieces, each with their own distinct feel and an insatiable groove.

‘Feel Me’ sets the scene with a descending baseline that would eek a wiggle out of the most reluctant spectator. The twisted dub eeks out even more groove, locking in a more sinister bounce for the heads. By The time ‘Understand’ get’s into full swing, we’re already under the spell of Carter & Asa, this is the kind of roller that could go on forever and ever. The synth embellishments and washes of analog synth pull us deeper and deeper in, prepping us for the finale , ’Try You’ which simmers with deep, brooding intensity.

The magic of the dup’s appeal is that this EP will find its way into the bags of the deepest diggers and also appeal to a new generation of house fans. Elements of it are accessible , but in the right hands - the EP will open a portal to new worlds.

Seit etwas mehr als einem Jahrzehnt hat sich EXEK ganz leise zu einer der faszinierendsten Bands der Welt entwickelt, die sich von Album zu Album verändert und weiterentwickelt und sich nach und nach geöffnet hat, ohne jemals diese seltsame, unergründliche und insgesamt essentielle Eigenschaft zu verlieren, die sie so großartig gemacht hat - so EXEK-mäßig. Nun bringt die Post-Punk-Band aus Melbourne - Sänger und Chefarchitekt Albert Wolski, Gitarrist Jai Morris-Smith, Schlagzeuger Chris Stephenson, Synthesizer-Spezialist Andrew Brocchi, Trompeterin und Sängerin Valya YL Hooi und Bassist Ben Hepworth - ihr siebtes Album und erstes für DFA raus: ,Prove The Mountains Move". Es ist, wie Wolski sagt, ,ein bisschen epischer" als alles, was er bisher aufgenommen hat, ein üppiges und unverhohlen melodisches Set surrealistischer Popmusik, das sich in Widersprüchen suhlt. ,Dieses Album ist in seiner Machart experimentell", sagt Wolski, ,aber es klingt nicht unbedingt experimentell." Dafür gibt es einen guten Grund. Die Arbeit begann an einem kalten Nachmittag im Juni 2023, als Wolski und Stephenson sich in den Pelican Refill Studios in Melbourne trafen, um die Drums aufzunehmen - das erste, was sie immer machen. Danach ging Wolski alleine nach Hause und fing an, die aufgenommenen Beats und Breaks durchzugehen, wobei er sich von den Drum-Sounds zu Melodien und Basslines leiten ließ, Loops und Layers erstellte und so die Grundlage für ,Prove The Mountains Move" schuf. ,Ich fühle mich wohl dabei, alleine wie ein verrückter Wissenschaftler herumzutüfteln", sagt er. ,Ich habe es auch genossen, ohne klare Absicht auf Aufnahme zu drücken. Meistens führte mich das in eine interessante Richtung, die mein Bewusstsein wahrscheinlich nicht gesucht hätte." Und doch gelangte Wolski irgendwie zu seinem direktesten Werk seit Beginn des Projekts, neu inspiriert von der Klarheit und Prägnanz des Mainstream-Pop, der starken und unbestreitbaren Anziehungskraft einer einfachen Gesangsmelodie. Nachdem die berühmt-berüchtigten strengen COVID-Lockdowns in Melbourne beendet waren, wollte er einfach draußen bleiben. ,Die Arbeit an neuer Musik trat gegenüber dem Feiern mit Freunden in den Hintergrund", sagt er. ,Und diese Partys waren voller großer Hits als Soundtrack - Sachen, die ich selbst nicht wirklich hörte, Sachen, denen ich seit meiner Jugend nicht mehr begegnet war. Aber in den frühen Morgenstunden des Sonntags klingt ,Alive" von Pearl Jam, als würde man mit Gott sprechen. Genauso wie ,All I Wanna Do" von Sheryl Crow und ,Feel" von Robbie Williams. Krautrock und Dub waren immer noch in meiner DNA, aber die Musik, die ich zu machen begann, war vielleicht etwas unbeschwerter und vielleicht auch etwas emotionaler." Das heißt nicht, dass man hier Spuren von Eddie Vedder in Wolskis Gesang erwarten sollte, aber die Einsätze fühlen sich auf ihre eigene Weise ähnlich an - so klingt es, wenn EXEK wirklich alles geben. Nimm zum Beispiel die schwebenden Synthesizer des Openers ,Sidestepping" oder die gewaltigen Gitarren von ,Arriverderci Back Pain", die pyrotechnischen Klavierklänge von ,Don't Answer (When They Call)" oder die Bowie-artige Melancholie von ,You Have Been Blessed". Die Arrangements wirken offener, der Sound fokussierter. Es fällt nicht schwer, Wolski zu glauben, wenn er sagt, dass er viel Zeit damit verbracht hat, seine Mixe von ,Prove The Mountains Move" mit einigen der wichtigsten Alben, die je aufgenommen wurden, darunter ,Abbey Road", zu vergleichen. Aber alles ist relativ. Und textlich bleibt Wolski weiterhin verschlüsselt. ,Jeder Song ist eine Vignette in einem abstrakten Milieu, sei es ein experimentelles Chiropraktik-Geschäft am Flughafen oder spärlich bekleidete Kreaturen aus Staub in einem Food Court. Egal wie verrückt das auch sein mag, es gibt Themen und Motive auf dem gesamten Album, sowohl textlich als auch musikalisch, die sich in verschiedenen Songs widerspiegeln und aufeinander Bezug nehmen." Diese Dissonanz zwischen direkt und indirekt, glatt und strukturiert, schattig und glühend, verrückt und ausdruckslos ist die treibende Kraft im Herzen dieser Songs, seiner bisher besten.

Whilst remaining leftfield in spirit, there is a musical vulnerability to the latest iteration of Legss, and a newfound pop sensibility to their writing, which reflects a move to a more accessible sound. There is a security in inaccessibility, and shedding this cloak opens the band up to an earnestness at once exciting and nerve-wracking. Twinned with their signature world-building aesthetic, the new direction is reflected sonically by drummer Louis Grace, who co-produced the album with Balazs Altsach (Ugly, Katy J Pearson, Broadside Hacks) - set to be distributed by The state51 Conspiracy.

On the announcement of their debut album, Unreal, the band say:
“Unreal feels like the work of a lifetime. We can’t believe we’re still here to see it through, but we are and we couldn’t be prouder. The album is about miscommunication and feelings of unreality/the uncanny in everyday life; the tragic and the comic.”

ABOUT LEGSS
Merging intricate guitars, disquieting monologues and a rhythm section both technical and unruly, London’s Legss create a wholly unique sound.
After meeting and forming in London, Legss released their experimental, darkly satirical debut EP Writhing Comedy in 2019, which received heavy airplay on BBC 6 Music. A year later the band’s much-anticipated, genre-bending sophomore EP Doomswayers was released in the shadow of the pandemic, championed by BBC Radio 1’s Jack Saunders and BBC 6 Music’s Steve Lamacq.

After the release of their single ‘Hollywood’, Legss signed to The state51 Conspiracy and released their third EP Fester in 2023, recorded at The Church, which saw critical acclaim from the likes of the Sunday Times, Quietus, Independent, Line of Best Fit, So Young Magazine, DORK, L&Q, and DIY.

In 2024 the band were included by Simon Reynolds in the afterword to a republished edition of Mark Fisher’s seminal Ghosts of My Life (Zero Books).

Legss are Louis Grace (drums, synth), Ned Green (vocals, guitar), Jake Martin (bass) and Max Oliver (guitar)

ince its opening in spring 2021, JUBG, a still young Cologne gallery for contemporary art, has specialized in the broad field of artists and collaborations working along artistic interfaces, especially those between visual art and experimental and/or electronic music. For example, JUBG has already hosted exhibitions by Markus Oehlen, Kim Gordon, Wolfgang Voigt, Matthias and Aksel "Superpitcher" Schaufler, Sven-Åke Johansson, and Emil Schult. Albert Oehlen, who is a kind of mentor and supporter of the gallery, was also a guest at Albertusstraße this summer, where he presented the exhibition D-I-E ORPHEUSMASCHINE together with Michael Wertmüller, Thomas Stammer and the poet Rainald Goetz.

It is only logical that the gallery now expands its sphere of activity to include its own label, on which music appears that comes from similar contexts as the artists listed above already suggest.

As catalog number 1, JUBG is now releasing the official soundtrack to "The Painter" from 2021. The film, German title "Der Maler", is a mixture of feature film and documentary and a collaboration between German director Oliver Hirschbiegel, best known for his Oscar-nominated film "Downfall", and Albert Oehlen, with whom Hirschbiegel has a long friendship, as they both once studied together at the Hochschule der Bildenden Künste in Hamburg.

The docu-fiction shows Oehlen struggling with a painting and pondering the meaning of his work. Oehlen is played by German actor and musician Ben Becker, accompanied by the off-screen voice of Charlotte Rampling. In the film, Becker makes a painting that Oehlen himself creates step by step behind the camera, while the actor improvises the process in front of the camera.

The wonderful music for this film comes from no less than two outstanding personalities whose individual biographies and musical signatures could hardly be better suited to this project. On the A-side it is Gudrun Gut, icon not only of the German electronic music scene since at least the 90's, singer, composer, DJ, label owner (Monika Enterprise) and of course founding member of the legendary 80's New Wave band Malaria. On the B-side it’s the world famous and award winning US avant-garde trumpeter and improvisational musician Nathan "Nate" Wooley, who has played with Fred Frith and John Zorn among others.

Gudrun Gut's tracks bear such beautiful titles as "Bewegung", "Küste" or "Weinen" and she once again pulls out all the stops of her great skills and decades of experience as a producer of the most diverse electronic music genres. These are unusual and much more experimental musical paintings that she creates here than on her recent solo works. Edgy, angular, raw and unpolished, yet always elegant and clever, she subverts the male artist madness depicted extensively in the film in her own unique way.

Nathan Wooley answers with the instrument he has been familiar with since childhood, the trumpet, with which he is able to create a ravishingly virtuosic noise. His pieces are more like sketches, often only 90 seconds or a few minutes long, but in all their abstractness underpin the narrative of the film almost perfectly.

A limited edition of 20 copies in total, painted and signed by Ben Becker, can be purchased directly through JUBG.

JUBG, eine noch junge Kölner Galerie für zeitgenössische Kunst, hat sich seit ihrer Eröffnung im Frühjahr 2021 auf das weite Feld von Künstler:innen und Kollaborationen spezialisiert, die entlang künstlerischer Schnittstellen tätig sind, insbesondere an denen zwischen bildender Kunst und experimenteller und/oder elektronischer Musik. So hat JUBG bereits Ausstellungen von Markus Oehlen, Kim Gordon, Wolfgang Voigt, Matthias und Aksel "Superpitcher" Schaufler, Sven-Åke Johansson und Emil Schult gezeigt. Auch Albert Oehlen, der eine Art Mentor und stiller Unterstützer der Galerie ist, war im Sommer dieses Jahres zu Gast in der Albertusstraße, wo er zusammen mit Michael Wertmüller, Thomas Stammer und dem Dichter Rainald Goetz die Ausstellung D•I•E ORPHEUSMASCHINE präsentierte.

Es ist nur logisch und folgerichtig, dass die Galerie ihren Wirkungskreis nun um ein eigenes Label erweitert, auf dem Musik erscheint, die aus ähnlichen Zusammenhängen und Sphären stammt, wie es die oben aufgezählten Künstler:innen bereits vermuten lassen.

Als Katalog-Nummer 1 veröffentlicht JUBG nun den offiziellen Soundtrack zu "The Painter" aus dem Jahr 2021. Der Film, deutscher Titel “Der Maler”, ist eine Mischung aus Spiel- und Dokumentarfilm und eine Zusammenarbeit zwischen dem deutschen Regisseur Oliver Hirschbiegel, vor allem bekannt für seinen Oscar-nominierten Film "Der Untergang", und Albert Oehlen, mit dem Hirschbiegel eine lange Freundschaft verbindet, studierten sie doch beide zusammen einst an der Hochschule der Bildenden Künste in Hamburg.

Die Doku-Fiktion zeigt Oehlen, wie er mit einem Gemälde kämpft und über die Bedeutung seines Werks nachdenkt. Oehlen wird vom deutschen Schauspieler und Musiker Ben Becker gespielt und von der Stimme von Charlotte Rampling aus dem Off begleitet. Im Film erstellt Becker ein Gemälde, das Oehlen selbst hinter der Kamera Schritt für Schritt anfertigt, während der Schauspieler den Prozess wiederum vor der Kamera improvisiert.

Die wunderbare Musik zu diesem Film kommt von gleich zwei herausragenden Persönlichkeiten, die mit ihren individuellen Biographien und musikalischen Handschriften kaum besser zu diesem Projekt passen könnten. Auf der A-Seite ist dies Gudrun Gut, Ikone nicht nur der deutschen elektronischen Musikszene seit mindestens den 90er Jahren, Sängerin, Komponistin, DJ, Label-Betreiberin (Monika Enterprise) und natürlich Gründungsmitglied der legendären 80er Jahre New Wave-Band Malaria, auf der B-Seite der weltberühmte und Preisgekrönte US-amerikanische Avantgarde-Trompeter und Improvisationsmusiker Nathan “Nate” Wooley, der u.a. mit Fred Frith und John Zorn zusammengespielt hat.

Gudrun Gut’s Tracks tragen so schöne Titeln wie “Bewegung”, “Küste” oder “Weinen” und sie zieht hier einmal alle Register ihres großen Könnens und ihrer jahrzehntelangen Erfahrung als Produzentin der verschiedensten elektronischen Musikspielarten. Es sind ungewöhnliche und sehr viel experimentellere musikalische Gemälde, die sie hier entwirft als auf ihren jüngsten Solo-Werken. Kantig, eckig, roh und ungeschliffen und dabei immer elegant und schlau, unterläuft sie den im Film ausgiebig dargestellten männlichen Künstlerwahnsinn auf ihre ganz eigene Art und Weise.

Nathan Wooley antwortet mit dem ihm seit Kindesbeinen vertrauten Instrument, der Trompete, mit der er in der Lage ist, einen hinreißend virtuosen Lärm zu erzeugen. Seine Stücke sind eher Skizzen, oft nur 90 Sekunden oder ein paar wenige Minuten lang, die in all ihrer Abstraktheit das Narrativ des Films nahezu perfekt untermalen.

Eine auf insgesamt 20 Exemplare limitierte Edition, bemalt und signiert von Ben Becker, ist direkt über die JUBG zu erwerben.

180 Gramm schweres, schwarzes 3-fach-Vinyl im Klappcover mit 20-seitigem Booklet und Download-Karte

Sugaring a Strawberry, the sophomore record from Julia, Julia, is a study in coming undone—on purpose. Recorded at COMA, Julia Kugel's home studio, and mixed through a custom Flickenger clone, the album drifts in and out of clarity like memory itself. It's emotionally retrospective, creatively unvarnished, and deeply human. You can hear it in the hiss, the warmth, in the vocals so raw they're like an open window. These songs weren't engineered for perfection. They were built to breathe. Her long-time collaborator and husband, Scott Montoya, mixes it all so loosely that you can hear the air between tracks— a space that makes the music feel inhabited rather than recorded.


"Bound" opens the album like a secret passed between sisters, solemn and unspeakably close. It begins with the softest of touches: hushed guitar, a near- whispered delivery that carries the intimacy of someone singing only for one other person. It's a love song, but not romantic, more ancestral in the way long bonds can be. All glow and undercurrent, "I Know," is like hearing someone hum through a wound. The track arrives as if it had been waiting, coiled and complete, to be sung. Its pulse is slow but insistent, anchored on a hypnotic loop and a vocal that's half-incantation, half-confession. One of the most outward-facing songs on the record, "Feeling Lucky," opens like a cigarette flicked in the dark– smoky and a little bit slick. Built on a skeletal beat and a nearly detached vocal, it leans into a sarcastic swagger that barely masks the ache beneath. The delivery is droll and glazed, the instrumentation is sparse and a little woozy, leaving space for her voice to sway—a shrug of a song, stylish in its sadness. "A Love That Hurts" drifts in on soft, fingerpicked guitar and a dry, close-mic vocal that feels both haunted and immediate. The mix is stripped down and analog-warm, letting tape hum and silence frame the emotion. Julia sings like she's remembering something she doesn't want to, each line a slight unraveling. Like the rest of the album, "A Love That Hurts" doesn't push toward resolution. It sits in the ache, sifts through it, makes it beautiful.

Sugaring a Strawberry doesn't seek catharsis so much as stumbles into it. There's a quiet volatility to these songs like they might fall apart if you press too hard. It moves in shadow and softness, asking questions it doesn't answer. It doesn’t end with closure. It ends with truth.

In between the folds of ceremony and commonality lies a perennial spring of musical expression.

A statement along the time continuum, or a testament to the resilient resourcefulness embedded in that truth, forms the philosophical approach of this album – the first outing of Dídac.
Studying an extensive archive of instruments, artifacts, and field recordings at the Musée d’ethnographie de Genève—a space steeped in folkloric gesture – Dídac encountered a cosmos of liturgical music and folk song. Anchored in reverance for tradition and transformation alike, this album navigates the old-world Mediterranean lore through a post-modern ambient lens, threading drone, gentle rhythm, electroacoustic textures and the crude tactility of archival material into one woven tapestry.

Under the guidance of Dr. Madeleine Leclair, Dídac was invited to work within one of the world’s most extensive ethno- musicological archives—L’AIMP. In the saturated basements and tape-lined backrooms of the museum, he submerged himself in the sounds of ritual and rural life: wax cylinders from the Eastern Mediterranean, tapes of liturgical hymn, the worn edges of communal song.
In a makeshift studio on the fourth floor of the museum, he sifted through the hours of material he collected, gradually discovering that the archive was no static source – It did not dictate; rather, it served as a companion—offering not answers, but questions. Not a beaten track, but a cluster of sonic clues and riddles. Samples do appear occasionally, tenderly interwoven into the dialogue of the songs. In Dídac’s self-titled debut, the past is not worn as ornament or kitsch; it is listened to and responded to. The museum, its archives, and the visit to Geneva became a foundational culisse of sorts, igniting a myriad of rough cuts and improvisational outtakes.
Dídac, or Diego Ocejo Muñoz, was born in Madrid in 1994 to a family of both Catalan and Castilian origin.

Brought up in a religious household, the influence of the Catholic Church innately shaped the social fabric, schooling and daily life. This lingering dominance led the adolescent Diego into a path of rejection of everything sacramental, promptly resorting to subversion in the shape of grafitti, skateboarding and underground music. Only later in life, after a rigorous venture as an acid and electro producer, the Church re-emerged before him in new light, invoking a deep fascination for its mysticism, iconography and choral tradition.

Spain in general and Catalonia in particular, has long served as a crossroads of the eastern–western Mediterranean continuum, with many of its cultures sharing aspects of way of life and ceremony. At the MEG, Diego found himself puzzled with this realization, resulting in a sonic amalgamation that reaches farther away from the rugged mountains of Catalonia than you might perceive at first encounter.

The deeply embedded memory of rite and public ceremony, religious hymn and landscape—sieved through the undercurrent of personal re-emergence, forms the emotional topography of this album. The record does not trace this landscape; it inhabits it. Its repetitive mysticism and ambient, wide-eyed gaze could possibly evoke (perhaps redundant) comparisons to artists such as Dimitris Petsetakis, or Popol Vuh’s late 70’s cinema scores.
The delicate lines between the sacred and the secular – between memory and re-invention – serve as a cipher to understanding this album in its entirety. Titles like Malpàs Mines or Pantocrator’s Portal Outro nudge toward a folkloric and devotional bedrock—places where labor and spirituality coexist, where names preserve both dust and veneration.

Nevertheless, this is far from mere nostalgia. It is a reclamation — singing alongside the spirits of the past, nurturing what still hums beneath the soil. It is an intimate reflection on tradition, rebellion, adolescence, ceremony and fantasy – a pastoral contemplation on what once was and what is to be.

Comet Dust Red Vinyl. Jason Molina war ein Künstler, der nicht gerne zurückblickte. Während seines gesamten Lebens und seiner Karriere als Singer-Songwriter trieb ihn ein rastloser und sich ständig weiterentwickelnder kreativer Impuls voran, der seinen Fokus auf das Wesentliche richtete. Seine unermüdliche Kreativität und Arbeitsmoral trugen Früchte. In seinem kurzen Leben erreichte Molina das, wonach die meisten Musiker streben: einen Sound, der sofort wiedererkennbar ist, sich aber selten wiederholt. Von den Ufern des Eriesees in seiner Heimatstadt Lorain, Ohio, bis hin zu internationalen Bühnen mit seinen Bands Songs: Ohia und Magnolia Electric Co. spielte Molina sein umfangreiches Repertoire an geheimnisvollen, romantischen, stürmischen und monumentalen Songs, die gleichzeitig innovativ und in der amerikanischen Tradition verwurzelt waren. Er tüftelte ständig an seinem Sound, seinem Image, seiner Band und seinem Zuhause, um seine Muse zu befriedigen. Ein Tenor-Gitarre spielender Außenseiter. Ein liebeskranker Lo-Fi-Indie-Rocker. Ein trauriger Slowcore-Barde. Ein Pionier des Roots-Rock des 21. Jahrhunderts. Ein kanonischer Songwriter des Mittleren Westens. Jason Molina hat seine kreative Flagge in all diesen Bereichen gehisst - um seinen Anspruch zu markieren, um zu zeigen, wie weit er gekommen war, und um eine Spur wertvoller Talismane zu hinterlassen. Mit ,I Will Swim to You: A Tribute to Jason Molina" - benannt nach einer Zeile aus Molinas Song ,Lioness" - würdigen Run For Cover Records und eine Gruppe befreundeter Künstler den bleibenden Einfluss des Songwriters. Die Compilation mit Molina-Covers wurde von einigen der visionärsten Singer-Songwritern der Gegenwart eingespielt, darunter MJ Lenderman, Hand Habits, Horse Jumper of Love, Sun June und viele mehr, und enthält einzigartige Interpretationen von Molina-Fan-Favoriten und weniger bekannten Stücken aus seinen Soloalben und weniger bekannten EPs. Das Ergebnis ist eine unverwechselbare Liebeserklärung, eine oft atemberaubende Gesamtdarbietung generationenübergreifender Talente, die einem der begabtesten, aber unterschätzten amerikanischen Songwriter Tribut zollen.

The latest by Andrew Clinco's acid punk alias VR SEX takes its title from an architectural phrase but more importantly refers to the warped, wicked underworld the songs both chronicle and condemn. Donning the moniker Noel Skum - an acerbic anagram of Elon Musk - Clinco vents his scorn for and fascination with the seedy, surreal margins of low-life Los Angeles, doomed to dead ends of vanity, lust, and technology. Although initially launched as an outlet for "heavier sounds" beyond Clinco's duties in new wave fantasists Drab Majesty, the project has ripened into a compelling exercise in world building, weaving themes of gritty city neofuturist sleaze within a framework of driving, distorted guitars and cathode-blasted synths. Echoes of Chrome, Wire, Minimal Man, and Sisters Of Mercy ripple through the collection but ultimately Rough Dimension charts its own twisted vision of "our unforgiving reality." Written and demoed across two weeks alone in a Marseille flat using his prized 1980's Gibson "Invader" and a laptop, Clinco then took the tracks to Strange Weather studios in Brooklyn to record with Ben Greenberg (Uniform, The Men) who helmed 2019's debut, Human Traffic Jam. The results are notably ripping, refined, and riveting. Riffs in alternate tunings chug and churn over mid-tempo drums punctuated by spikes of sci-fi electronics while the vocals swagger and spit venom ("where we walk is also where we shit / but if we bark at our reflections are we hypocrites? / impulses bleed right into our seed / where hate culminates the apple rotted on the tree"). It's a bristling mix of the melodic and the macabre, absurdist observations of fast living and desperate measures, the clock of youth ticking towards midnight as dreams unravel in Babylon. VR SEX's specialty is making these cautionary tales of psychic decay and tainted love a thrill rather than a drag. There's a sunglasses at night glamor to Clinco's choruses and solos, a wit to his black leather judgements ("what is the answer / to cancerous people / walking in my line of sight?"). The music's milieu tends towards parasites and predators but its mood skews refreshingly accelerated and amused, cruising the strip with a cigarette, watching goths and limousines crawl in gridlock beneath digital billboards. The Rough Dimension may be a cesspool, but it's home.

Get ready for a musical journey like no other as Apollo Junction, the dynamic and innovative indie rock sensation, prepares to launch their eagerly awaited new album, ’What In The World’ on August 22nd. The members of Apollo Junction hail from Leeds, UK. Known for their electrifying live performances and genre-blurring sound, the band has captured the hearts of music enthusiasts worldwide.

With a strong and dedicated fan base, Apollo Junction continues to push the boundaries of their craft, creating music that resonates on a profound level. Apollo Junction’s new album ‘What in the World’ has been years in the making - born from highs, lows, countless gigs, and all the chaos in between. It’s the most honest version of the band yet, a record shaped by every late-night argument, every breakthrough, every crazy story they have ever told each other.

Recorded at Chairworks Studio with David Watts (The Reytons, OMD, Paul Heaton, and Kaiser Chiefs) the album also features tracks co-written with Eliot Kennedy (known for his work with Bryan Adams and the Spice Girls) and includes a track with a powerful guest vocal from Brianna Corrigan of The Beautiful South. Lead singer Jamie Williamson explains the importance of the album: “This album feels exactly right for where we are now. Every track is a snapshot—of getting lost, finding our way back, and remembering why we started. It’s about making something that feels like home. We went looking for meaning and realised it was right in front of us: the band, the songs, this record. ‘What in the World’ isn’t just a title—it’s the answer we’ve been chasing all along.” Leeds-based quintet Apollo Junction is made up of Jamie Williamson (singer) Matthew Wilson (guitarist), Ben Hope (bassist), Jonny Thornton (drummer) and Sam Potter (keyboards). Their shared love of live music and dedication to performing, coupled with an incredible hard-work ethic has taken them on this magical journey which has included support slots for Shed Seven, Kaiser Chiefs, Richard Ashcroft and performing at festivals including the prestigious Isle of Wight Festival. Coming up this summer, the lads will be playing with Blossoms, Manic Street Preachers and Doves

Alanis Morissette Delivers the Equivalent of a Spiritual Awakening on Supposed Former Infatuation Junkie:
Introspective Themes and Compassionate Emotions on Eastern-Tinged Album Have Grown More Relevant
1998 Smash Plays with Enhanced Detail, Rich Textures, and Sharp Focus on Mobile Fidelity’s 180g 33RPM 2LP Set:
First-Ever Audiophile Edition Strictly Limited to 3,000 Numbered Copies
1/2" / 30 IPS analogue master to DSD 256 to analogue console to lathe

Alanis Morissette refuses to adhere to convention on Supposed Former Infatuation Junkie. While most artists follow-up their breakthrough with an album that closely parallels the approaches that helped make them famous, the maverick singer-songwriter stayed true to herself and drew inspiration from travel to India before she began the recording sessions. As much as the preceding Jagged Little Pill put her on the global radar, Supposed Former Infatuation Junkie confirmed her role as a vital generational voice — and proved her blockbuster success was no fluke. Having set a mark for most sales of an LP in its debut week by a female artist, the 1998 smash remains a pop-rock staple.

Sourced from the original master tapes, strictly limited to 3,000 numbered copies, housed in a Stoughton jacket, and pressed at Fidelity Record Pressing, Mobile Fidelity’s 180g 33RPM 2LP set of Supposed Former Infatuation Junkie presents the triple-platinum LP in audiophile sound for the first time. Benefitting from defined grooves that befit the album’s nearly 72-minute length, this pressing plays with enhanced detail, refined clarity, sharper focus, and broader dynamics than prior versions.

Those traits are key given Morissette’s use of more textured and atmospheric soundscapes, not to mention her evolution into a more nuanced and controlled singer. Similarly, the scale and reach of David Campbell’s string arrangements come across as orchestrations should. Ditto the synth-based architecture shaped by producer and principal Morissette collaborator Glen Ballard. All in all, Mobile Fidelity’s collectible edition simply delivers more information via transparent means.

Notable for its balance, sophistication, and richness, Supposed Former Infatuation Junkie at heart finds Morissette pausing, taking a breath, and learning how to navigate life in a healthy manner after enduring one of the most exhausting and rocket-to-fame stretches any musician ever experienced. It’s the sonic equivalent of a spiritual awakening, a call to betterment, a brave assessment of the self and humanity as a whole. As such, the tunes on her second international (and fourth Canadian) release teem with gratitude, compassion, love, empathy — emotions that lend themselves to the largely mellow, contoured scope and Eastern-tinged melodies of the songs themselves.

“How ‘bout how good it feels to finally forgive you,” Morissette sings on the lead single “Thank U.” “How ‘bout grieving it all one at a time.” Those sentiments, and the vocalist’s embrace of concepts such as divinity and acceptance, not only provide a foundation on which Supposed Former Infatuation Junkie rests. They also reflect the personal maturation she gained from her embrace of Buddhist culture in India and a mindset bent toward notions of reconciliation, peace, and sensuality that were nearly absent in popular music in the late ‘90s.

Those themes continue on “That I Would Be Good,” a confident reflection that takes stock of one’s mental, physical, and emotional state in the face of both changing and unpleasant circumstances — and concludes with Morissette performing a flute solo, further exposing the raw intimacy of the introspective tune. She channels relatable simplicity and joy on “So Pure,” with her invocations of “dance” and “freestyle” speaking to the freedom of expression that courses throughout Supposed Former Infatuation Junkie. And perhaps no song finds Morissette showcasing her refreshed attitude toward life and opening up more than the relationship-themed “Unsent,” whose unconventional structures and lack of a chorus only add to its directness.

Akin to many albums that were ahead of their time, and despite the critical and commercial accolades afforded it upon release, Supposed Former Infatuation Junkie attracted new appreciation and perspective as it got older. Issued during an era where its ideas of serenity, absolution, tranquility, and contentment seemed largely alien, the record — akin to the ways its predecessor foreshadowed a movement — now functions as a visionary beacon that foretells of way to maintain sanity, dignity, and goodness amid a contemporary landscape filled with constant distractions, polarizing views, and incessant calls to purchase, promote, and produce without questioning the what-for purpose.

Supposed Former Infatuation Junkie dares to ask the questions and, at its best, supplies meaningful answers and alternatives that lead to longed-for enlightenment, healing, and laughter. For these reasons alone, it’s a record that never goes out of style.

A true embodiment of Brazilian Boogie, this is the first official reissue of Brylho's album, founded in Rio de Janeiro in 1978 as Brylho da Cidade. The group was influenced by the Black Rio movement of Tim Maia, Cassiano, and others. Members included Arnaldo Brandão (vocals/bass), Paulo Roquette (guitar), Cláudio Zoli (guitar/vocals), Robério Rafael (drums), Bolão (percussion), and Ricardo Cristaldi (keyboard). Claudio Zoli stands out as an important funk artist of the 1980s, during a time when Pop Rock bands dominated the Brazilian music scene. This album features one of the biggest hits of 1983: the soulful reggae groove "Noite do Prazer." Often described as Rio de Janeiro's answer to George Benson's "Give Me the Night," it's a timeless classic that bridges funk, soul, and Brazilian grooves. On "Se Você For a Salvador," a sun-soaked, feel-good boogie track, younger generations have embraced a new term to describe the sound: Brazilian City Pop. The record also delivers dancefloor heat like the stomping "Jóia Rara," the vibrant soul-reggae fusion "Destrava Maria," the ahead-of-its- time rap-funk hybrid "Cheque Sem Fundo," and the electrifying samba-reggae "Pé de Guerra," rich with Bahian rhythms and energy. Closing out the album are two under-the-radar jazz-funk gems: "Meditando" and "171." Though often lumped into the boogie category, these tracks lean more toward the sleek 1980s jazz-funk sound, reminiscent of UK acts like Level 42.

New Traditions is a collection of pipe music, electronic music, mouth music and folk music from five emerging and prominent Scottish artists.

It started in Sutherland with a recording of The Waters of Kylesku. “Do you learn any Gaelic at the school?” asks Hamish Henderson of Christine Stewart. “No,” she answers. “That’s a shame,” he responds, “Isn’t it?” she says. Then she sings. Her voice is of the peat itself, grown from the earth as the language was. It soars raptor-like above drenched ground and scoured pink rock.

Next, to Nancy Dorian, a linguistic missionary of sorts, who came from America to watch a language die. She charted the decline of Gaelic in a cluster of Sutherland villages from 1963 to 2020 when the terminal native speaker passed. Gaelic has origins in nature, with each letter of the alphabet named after a tree. It seems significant that the land of the north is now all-but devoid of forest.

Enter Alan Lomax, who travelled the world documenting indigenous music. Material from his archives feature on (fucking) Moby’s platinum selling Play. Despite the record’s worldwide commercial success we know very little of the music he essentially exploited.

Then musician Martyn Bennett, who built tracks around Lomax recordings of Scots and Gaelic voices, and did so with love that shared his blood with the cancer that killed him. His records both popularised and preserved obscure indigenous Scottish music.

This collection of tunes has similar intent: to consolidate ephemeral words in physical grooves - real as the rigs that still scar the earth - but also a desire to interpret. These versions have the greatest reverence for the originals at heart, but like the architecture of a great gallery, serve to protect and elevate.

The first in a proposed series of transmissions, Surface Detail's mystifying debut introduces an incorporeal body that exists only through sound and sensation, prompting listeners to discern a spiritual realm beyond the physical. Its surging electro-acoustic compositions push past the material world to plunge into deeper sonic dimensions, slowly revealing a philosophy borne of near-death and out-of-body experiences that challenges perception itself.

Overhauling vintage experimental techniques with their bespoke modern methodologies and processes, Surface Detail rearrange the musical timeline, merging vastly different concepts to hint at questions rather than provide solid answers. Their uniquely immersive soundscapes use texture, rhythm and tonality to help brush away the superficial and contemplate the unknown, approaching its delicate, controversial subject matter with sensitivity and sensuality. Not just an auditory experience, 'Surface Detail' tests the potential of sound itself, eliciting visceral physical reactions with its uncanny subtleties.

Those principles are divulged immediately on opening track 'Marée Noire', as breathy saxophone notes loops and swirl over cosmic oscillations and microtonally tuned drones. It's music that cracks open a passage that snakes through various genres, suggesting silhouettes rather than affirming banal musical preconceptions. Skeletal rhythms appear in the ether for only a moment, disappearing into the sonic landscape, and Surface Detail's bespoke instrumentation materializes just to bring out the cellular intricacy of the music, concentrating the gaze on microscopic textures and irregularities that discompose the senses. As the album drifts forward, it bends material reality even further: on 'Southern Breach', warm, lower-register organ tones intermingle with sinewy guitar twangs, evaporating into warped, hypnotic oscillations and eerie echoes; and by 'Superbook of the Dead', the conspicuous details have almost disappeared completely, replaced by subterranean clangs, industrial ambience and other-worldly electrical interference.

It's in this way that Surface Detail softly assert their convictions, insinuating a narrative that subliminally ushers listeners down an hypnagogic River Styx by removing all traces of the familiar. On closing track 'Broken Silicates', distant lullabies, dissociated stutters and ghostly woodwind sounds blot fractal patterns on the wide open space, reincarnating the album in a liminal zone that's not constrained by somatic logic. Whisper quiet and utterly beguiling, it transcends material existence, dissolving barriers between surface and depth.

Originally released on Ben Chasny's own Pavilion imprint in 2011.

"I was invited by the Incubate Festival and the city of Tilburg to participate in an artist residency where I would explore the region’s unique chapels built for the Virgin Mary. After writing the music for about six months by drawing on memories of the encounters with the chapels and using techniques inspired by Gaston Bachelard’s Poetics Of Reverie, I flew back to Tilburg to perform the music at the Incubate Festival. We recorded the evening and I released the result on my Pavilion label. Each cover was hand painted white on white in the old Pavilion style. I created a stencil and used graphite powder to make the design that is inspired by the sun imagery in Athanasius Kircher diagrams."

Roadside chapels express the identity of the inhabitants of North Brabant, a Dutch province, bordering on Belgium. Roman Catholicism has been the dominant religion in this southern part of the Netherlands since the eighth century. For about a century and a half this religion was strongly suppressed. Only when the French revolutionaries preached freedom of belief around 1800 could the people of North Brabant exercise their faith again. This was the start of a very strong emancipatory development from which a special form of the Roman Catholic faith arose that fully determined everyday life of the people here. This faith was the determining factor in life and the measure of all things. After the second Vatican Council (1962-1965) the reins of the catholic faith in Brabant were loosened as well. This was the start of a revolutionary process of secularisation. Within a decade hardly anything was left of the almighty influence of the Roman Catholic Church and this situation has lasted up to the present day.

In spite of the almightiness of the official, Vatican ruled, Roman Catholic faith, North Brabant has always and perhaps notoriously fostered an undercurrent of popular belief as well. This is a kind of belief in which elements of the official faith and age-old pre-Christian traditions are combined. Worshipping relics, holding pilgrimages and processions, the use of water from holy wells, popular art, recitations and songs, festivals, rituals, folk traditions, superstition and the like are all examples of popular devotion. These matters have strongly influenced and formed the identity of the present-day population of North Brabant. It is part of their immaterial heritage.

An obvious and still very much visible form of popular devotion are the roadside chapels. In Brabant some 400 can be found, most of which have been devoted to Mary. Chapels are small buildings in which Mary or other saints are worshipped. They can be found within villages or towns or in natural surroundings. Always at the finest spots! The beauty of the environment adds a primary religious or mystical feeling to the visitor. Local people attach great value to their chapels. In spite of the overall secularisation in society they are still at the centre of cultural and social life. Where people in North Brabant can hardly be found in the churches nowadays, this doesn’t mean at all they are no longer religious. On the contrary, religious feelings are perhaps stronger than ever, but now people have to find their own expression of them. That’s why they fall back on the age-old popular belief in which chapels play an important role. We can even witness new forms of popular belief with chapels as their focal point. An example of this is the scattering of ashes of people who have been cremated. Chapels clearly also play a role in the lives of young people. On an average five new chapels are added every year.

I have studied the popular culture and belief and the identity of the inhabitants of North Brabant for over thirty years. I have published over forty books on these subjects. In 2010 I was approached by the organisation of the Incubate Festival in the North Brabant town of Tilburg. Their request was for me to lead the American composer and guitarist Ben Chasny around a number of chapels in the province devoted to Mary. He had been invited to North Brabant to write some new compositions. Ben Chasny then chose to be inspired by these chapels and that’s how we met. I was especially curious how an American would react to something as specific and small as a roadside chapel in North Brabant, since we tend to think here of (people in) America in terms of ‘big-bigger-biggest’. Would an inhabitant of this enormous country with this prevailing culture be able to grasp and respect the identity of some 2.5 million people in North Brabant with their chapels? The answer to this question lies hidden in the compositions he made and that can be listened to on this album. Yes, Ben Chasny has been able to convert the phenomenon of a simple chapel devoted to Mary into music. The physical and the spiritual have found each other. What a beautiful world…just listen! - Paul Spapens

Following his previous appearance on Kevin Saunderson’s KMS Records 11 years ago, Tomio Ueda returns with "nonbot EP" and the debut of his own vinyl imprint, bounce connection records.

Each of the four tracks question the boundary between human error and machine precision blending hypnotic basslines, pads reminiscent of 90's Detroit techno, hardgroove-style percussion, and plenty of mind-bending surprises.

Early support from Dax J, Richie Hawtin, Kangding Ray, A Thousand Details, Answer Code Request, Slam, Takaaki Itoh, Perc, Online Narcotics, and HAMY

Hand-stamped black vinyl in white jacket and polyline

Limited pressing of 100 available

The Vendetta Suite is back to light up the early part of 2025 with a brilliant brace of singles on Hell Yeah. Kicking things off is a glorious acid house/disco thriller backed by a soothing out of body escape.

We’ve often referred to The Vendetta Suite as Belfast’s best kept secret, but with the quality music he keeps releasing he is rightly picking up ever more of a profile. The Hell Yeah regular has long been a key part of his native Northern Irish scene thanks to the way he mixes genres; ambient, post-rave Balearic, dub and acid house all in the mix with his own unique psychedelic magic.

First up is ‘The Jam Answer’, which taps into plenty of classic sounds but reinvents them for modern dancefloors. Bendy acid lines weave in between the dusty analogue drums, familiar acid house vocal samples and fizzing chord stabs bring the heat before a cosmic synth lead sings out with sunny soul. ‘Island Hill Microdot’ channels dreamy Chicago house, the futuristic styles of IDM with the blissed out warmth of Balearic. Carried along with gentle percussion, it’s an immersive soundscape that makes for the perfect tropical distraction.

Two very different but equally effective cuts from The Vendetta Suite.

In 2016 an internet user discovered Panchiko’s discarded 2000 demo CD, D>E>A>T>H>M>E>T>A>L, in a Nottingham charity shop and posted it to 4chan to intrigue and fanfare. It took four years for Panchiko’s legions of dedicated fans to find the people behind the music as millions of curious listeners were swaying to the band’s adolescent creations. Upon discovering their own virality, the band reformed with original members Andy Wright (keyboardist and producer), Owain Davies (vocalist and guitarist), and Shaun Ferreday (bassist) alongside new members Robert Harris (guitarist) and John Schofield (drummer), toured the world and wrote, recorded, and released their first album in 20+ years, 2023’s Failed At Maths. But after the thrill of the whirlwind came a new question. What comes next when your dreams come true? The answer is Ginkgo, a 13-track project that finds the band making some of their most introspective, cinematic, and moving music yet. “The whole production has gone up ten-fold,” says Wright of the new album.“ Standout track "Shandy in the Graveyard" feat. rapper billy woods sees the band channeling their youth and tapping into the typical audience at Panchiko shows. That youthful spirit can be felt in the song’s sonic world, as its production genre-shifts between trip hop and orchestral folk, creating a fresh juxtaposition of soundscapes. The same wrenching honesty that attracted legions of fans to their teenage demos is the same truthful ethos that keeps them listening to new material like title track, “Ginkgo.” On it, Davies sings “You command the leaves to fall/The Ginkgo bends at will.” A rumination on the limits of control, collaboration, and fate, the song is an apt meditation for a band whose resurgence came about through a mix of luck, artistry, and then clear-eyed energy.

Loyle Carner will release his highly anticipated sophomore record, 'Not Waving, But Drowning' on 19 April via AMF Records.

'Not Waving, But Drowning' follows Loyle's BRIT (Best Male, Best Newcomer) and Mercury Prize nominated, top 20 debut 'Yesterday's Gone'. The bedrock of honest and raw sentimentality that you heard on 'Yesterday's Gone' left an inextinguishable mark on music in general and UK Hip Hop in particular, standing out as an ageless, bulletproof debut.

'Not Waving, But Drowning', Loyle's new album, gives yet more evidence - as if it were needed - of his razor-sharp flow and his unique storytelling ability. Yes, he can rap, but he allies that with the sensitivity of a poet, the observational skills of a novelist, and warmth of your best friend. The album opens with 'Dear Jean', a letter to his mother in which he's telling her that he has found the love of his life, 'a woman from the skies', and he's moving out.

It goes without saying that Loyle's music is hard to categorise, but what is even more impressive is that for someone who grew up listening to Mos Def, Biggie Smalls, Roots Manuva, and Wu Tang Clan, he doesn't sound like any of them. Although he might from time to time give lyrical nods to them, he's no imitator.

Loyle loves cooking. There are two tracks on this album named after chefs. The British-Israeli chef Yotam Ottolenghi, and the now deceased Italian chef Antonio Carluccio. 'Ottolenghi' the first single from the album was featured on the BBC Radio 1 B-list, BBC 6 Music A-list and has already been streamed over 5 million times.

Loyle refers to real life for everything, the title of 'Yesterday's Gone' came from a song of his step father, the title of his new album 'Not Waving, But Drowning' comes from a poem by his grandfather, which in turn came from a Stevie Smith poem. What you hear on the track 'Krispy' is real. He is pouring his heart out to his best friend Rebel Kleff after their relationship went downhill, he invites him on the track to say his piece but he doesn't turn up, so we get a flugel solo instead.

Loyle also has his own personal black consciousness movement. When he refers to his 'fathers' in the track 'Looking Back' he really is referring to two fathers. His biological father, a black man who he knows, but knows very little of, and his step father, a poet and musician who happens to be a white man but died a sudden unexpected death from epilepsy (SUDEP). With no real emotional ties to his biological father, but a deep connection with a deceased step-father, where does a young child turn He succinctly captures many of the great, unspoken, cultural and historical paradoxes of multicultural Britain on 'Looking Back'.

An album like this is hard to find. It is for those who like their Hip Hop to have soul, and their soul to have spirit. This is because it works on so many levels, but it is reflecting the personality of its creator. There are a host of collaborators here, Jorja Smith, Rebel Kleff, Kiko Bun, Kwes, Jordan Rakei, Sampha, Tom Misch and more, but none are overpowering. They blend righteously into place.
Loyle is not bitter with people who have let him down, or a society that lets so many down, but the combination of anger and love he has gives his voice the perfect blend of strength and vulnerability. This might be a coming of age album, but it's also a coming of ageless album. Loyle's 2019 Spring tour - which includes London's Roundhouse - sold out within 20 minutes of being on sale.

Not Waving, But Drowning



A rapper that raps about family is hard to find. The boys in the 'hood' tend not to be that interested in how much a 'brother' loves his mother, or how much he misses his dad, or even how much he misses his best friend. The boys in the 'hood' tend to be obsessed with the size of their cars, girls, bank accounts, and other personal 'possessions'. Loyle Carner's Mercury and BRIT Prize nominated debut 'Yesterday's Gone' (Released 2017), made it clear that he wasn't that kind of rapper. In fact, every time I talk to him about his work we talk about the world, and we tended to confuse ourselves by calling his work rap, poems, or songs, sometimes in the same sentence. They are in truth all of these things.



Here's some poetry.



Honestly I need them.

I hate them but I grieve them

I think I've finally found the reason

Trust

Like the fire needs the air.

I won't burn unless you're there.





'Not Waving, But Drowning', Loyle's forthcoming new album, gives us yet more evidence, (if it were needed), that he still has what rappers call, flow, but he hasn't lost any of his story telling qualities. Yes, the boy can rap, but a rapper with the sensitivity of a true poet, the observational skills of a novelist, and warmth of your best friend. The album opens with 'Dear Jean', a letter to his mother in which he's telling her that he has found the love of his life, (a woman from the skies), and he's moving out. He really loves the woman from the skies, but he still loves his mum, and so he reassures her that there is no competition, and tells her that 'She's not behind me or behind you, but beside we and beside two', his words. Or to put it another way, moving out without moving out. My words.



It goes without saying that Loyle's music is hard to categorise, but what is even more impressive is that for someone who grew up listening to Mos Def, Biggie Smalls, Roots Manuva, and Wu Tang Clan, he doesn't sound like any of them. Although he might from time to time give lyrical nods to them, he's no imitator. He says finding his own voice was something he always found easy. Although young, (in terms of a musical career), he has confidence in his own words and his own voice, and has never been tempted to sound like he's been hanging out in the USA, or rolling in 'Grime' on the mean streets of East London. And so when it comes to the creative process he doesn't simply find a beat to jump on and ride. Beats are important, but they are tenderly layered with samples, keyboards, or live drums, all imaginatively assembled for the laying on of words. Some tracks start with the idea, some with poetry, and some with a verse from a singer or some other melodic inspiration, but there is no formula.



Here's some poetry.



Don't hold any memories of us

Rather hold you everyday until the memories are dust

Yo we only caught the train

Cos you know I hate the bus





A prolific reader, who has dyslexia is hard to find. Add ADHD (Attention deficit hyperactivity disorder) to that and life should become even more difficult. To deal with your difficulties you devise coping strategies, which can differ from person to person. Loyle loves cooking. There are two tracks on this album named after chefs. The British-Israeli chef Ottolenghi, and the now deceased Italian chef Antonio Carluccio. Loyle describes himself as 'weird' because he is happy to read a cookbook as if he was reading a novel or a book of poetry. He has opened a cookery school for young adults not just because he loves food and wants to make more of it, but because it is one of the few things that can focus the ADHD mind. And when it comes to his other love, football, his approach is the same. Focus. He wanted to be a striker he says, up front scoring goals, but found his best position was in midfield because he was able to focus, check options, and see passes ahead of time, providing passes for other players just when they needed them. He says, 'You don't grow out of ADHD, you grow into it.' Loyle is also working with Levi's® on their music project where he is mentoring young musicians over a six month period, culminating at Liverpool Sound City festival.



More poetry.



When the going is tough

I wait till it falls on deaf ears

Hearsay

Without the boundaries of love



He also said, 'Ask most people and they will say that they love their mothers, but most are not going to rap about her'. On his first album Loyle's mum Jean wrote about the 'scribble of a boy' that growing up would take things apart to see how they worked. On this album she speaks with pride about a man who has found his place in the world.



Yes, poetry.



I'm still looking for the answers

Trying to find the right questions

Still waiting for my fathers

But can't break them in to sections



This poetry is serious. Loyle has his own personal black consciousness movement. He told me that he always felt safe at home, and being the darkest one in the family never meant a thing, but then when he had to face the outside world he felt hostility. It shook him up. Now he had to start asking questions, but what were the questions. This is serious. When he refers to his 'fathers' in the verse above taken from the track 'Looking Back' he really is referring to two fathers. His biological father, a black man who he knows, but knows very little of, and his step father, a poet and musician who happens to be a white man but died a sudden unexpected death from epilepsy (SUDEP). So to whom would a young black (or mixed race) kid turn He succinctly captures many of the great, unspoken, cultural and historical paradoxes of multicultural Britain when he says, 'My great grandfather could of owned my other one.' We are a people descended from enslaved people on one hand, and enslavers on the other, something we are still struggling to come to terms with, and this can be apparent in one family. A big book could have told you that, but here we get it in one line on the track, Looking Back.





Loyle refers to real life for everything. The album is peppered with captured moments that he records on his phone. These moments can range from conversations with taxi drivers, to capturing the moment when England scores a goal in the world cup. The title of 'Yesterday's Gone' came from a song of his step father, the title of his new album 'Not Waving but Drowning' comes from a poem by his grandfather, which in turn came from a Stevie Smith poem. What you hear on the track 'Krispy' is real. He is pouring his heart out to his best friend after their relationship went downhill, he invites him on the track to say his piece but he doesn't turn up, so we get a flugel solo instead. Yes people, this is real.



An album like this is hard to find. It is for those who like their Hip Hop to have soul, and their soul to have spirit, this is an album for those who have, (I'm sorry, I'm going to say it), emotional intelligence. This is because it works on so many levels, but it is reflecting the personality of its creator. There are a host of collaborators here, Jorja Smith, Rebel Kleff, Kiko Bun, Jordan Rakei, Sampha, Tom Misch and more, but none are overpowering. They blend righteously into place. Loyle is not bitter with people who have let him down, or the society that has let him down, but the combination of anger and love he has gives his voice the perfect blend of strength and vulnerability. This might be a coming of age album, but it's also a coming of ageless album. His first album worked, and this second album is a continuation of that work. Not creating a form, but being formless, as someone like Bruce Lee once said.

And here's some poetry from mum.



We talked long in to the darkest hours

Until we saw the burnished sky

And our eyes stung

As our words blurred and became thoughts

As we were silenced by the dawn

We clung to each other like sailors in a storm

Dub House n Techno at its best. VUO Records!

Sourcing rare records to reissue can involve meticulous research and years of digging, but then occasionally, Lady Luck smiles upon you. We probably would have never heard of the Medium Wave Band if Gary from Mr Bongo hadn't known Wolverhampton-based record dealer, Steve Ward. Whilst offering Gary some records for sale, he remembered he had a spare copy of an old 7" single that he thought Gary might like. Steve didn't know much about the release, and it had never sold on Discogs. Looking at the record itself, it was minimalist in appearance and information, there wasn't much to go on other than that it was from the Birmingham area. The mystery drew us in…

The A-side, 'So Tender’, is a late-night, jazzy slow-jam, with beautifully sultry, soulful female vocals which sounded vaguely familiar. On listening to the B side, 'Games (Instrumental)’, you are rewarded with a superb example of Britfunk / independent UK jazz-funk. The pulsating, bass-led dancefloor groove and sensibility is a sound reminiscent of productions usually found on labels such as Elite, but the 7” was not released on a label, it was a private press by the band themselves. So who are the enigmatic The Medium Wave Band?

After some fruitful internet digging and correspondence, we got the answers. The band lineup featured Elliot Browne on guitar (lead & rhythm), Ron Lyseight on guitar (rhythm), Andrew Proverbs on keyboards, Tony Peart on drums, Paul Snook on bass, Linton Levy on saxophone, and surprisingly, the beautiful vocals we had been enjoying were those of Jackie Graham, aka the hugely successful UK vocalist, Jaki Graham. Maybe best known for her pop hit with David Grant, 'Could It Be I'm Falling In Love', but also featuring on the cult classic track 'Fire In My Heart' by Escape From New York.

Influenced by artists and bands including George Benson, Ronnie Laws, Weather Report, George Duke, Azimuth and Chick Corea to name a few, the guys booked into a studio near the Botanical Gardens in Birmingham and recorded the two tracks that make up this 7”. Only 200 copies of the original 7" were ever pressed and were sold mostly in Birmingham at Summit Records by the band’s friend DJ Frenchi, as well as at live shows. Despite its limited distribution channels, the record received solid support from fans and those in the music industry, including Morgan Khan of the influential record label, Street Sounds. DJ and journalist, Lindsay Wesker, reviewed the release and this led to the band travelling to London for several radio interviews. They played live shows across the country, including at the prestigious Ronnie Scott's in London, and supported both Shakatak and Weapon of Peace in Birmingham.

Thanks to all those involved bringing this release into fruition and for solving the mystery behind a wonderful Britfunk and UK soul record that could have otherwise been lost in the mists of time.

DJ und Produzent Brennan Heart (Fabian Bohn) ist seit mehreren Jahren in Hochform. Ein wahrer Star der Hardstyle-Szene mit vielen Studio- und Mixalben, Golden Awards und Kollaborationen mit den Grössten der internationalen Szene - von Steve Aoki über Dimitri Vegas & Like Mike bis Ben Nicky.

"Save Euphoric" ist sein bisher persönlichstes Album, ein Spiegelbild seines jüngeren Ichs. Brennan: ""Save Euphoric" handelt davon, diesem fröhlichen, lebhaften Kind in mir endlich den Raum zum Atmen zu geben. Zu lange habe ich mich hinter der Arbeit versteckt, hinter "Leidenschaften", die mir viel gebracht, mich aber völlig aus dem Gleichgewicht geworfen haben. Es ist ein persönlicher Spiegel, eine Erinnerung daran, auf dem Boden zu bleiben. Ich glaube, unser geliebter Hardstyle ist genug gereift, dass ich all dies jetzt durch unsere Musik teilen kann."

Dieses Meisterwerk von einem Album enthält 19 Titel und jeder davon erzählt einen anderen Teil von Fabians Geschichte. Sie alle gehen zurück zu den euphorischen Wurzeln des Hardstyle und zeigen seine Liebe zu grossen Melodien, orchestralen Breaks und Ausdruckskraft in seinen Songs. Die Entstehung war eine Zusammenarbeit von Fabian mit einigen seiner musikalischen Freunde, darunter Timmy Trumpet, Jonathan Mendelsohn (u.a. bei "Running Up That Hill"), Toneshifterz, u.v.a. Die CD enthält eine persönliche Nachricht von Fabian selbst und bietet über eine Stunde Hardstyle vom Feinsten. Ein absolutes Muss für alle Fans von euphorischem Hardstyle!

In den späten 1960er Jahren erlebte Kanadas größte Stadt einen musikalischen Aufschwung, als karibische Einwanderer Toronto zu ihrer neuen Heimat machten. Die besten Ska-, Rocksteady- und Reggae-Aufnahmekünstler jener Zeit - die Gründer von Studio One, Treasure Isle und Trojan Records - taten einfach das, was ihnen in den Sinn kam. Einer nach dem anderen gingen sie ins Studio und nahmen einige der härtesten Songs diesseits von Kingston auf. Gemeinsam überwanden sie die rassischen und kulturellen Barrieren und bildeten eine beispiellose und wenig bekannte kanadische Soul & Reggae-Community. "Jamaika to Toronto: Soul, Funk & Reggae 1967-1974" beschreibt diese entscheidende klangliche Migration im Detail. // Mit Jackie Mittoo, Johnnie Osbourne, Wayne McGhie, Lloyd Delpratt, The Mighty Pope, Jo-Jo Bennett, Eddie Spencer, Noel Ellis und mehr_ // 2024 erweiterte Ausgabe mit 20-seitigem Deluxe-Booklet mit Archivbildern, Künstlerbiografien und Essays // 2xLP-Set, läuft mit 45 rpm, in einem luxuriösen Klappcover // Zusammengestellt, und kommentiert von dem GRAMMY-nominierten Produzenten, DJ und Journalisten Kevin Howes (alias Sipreano, Voluntary In Nature) in Zusammenarbeit mit Light in the Attic // Yellow & Green ReVinyl, eine nachhaltige Alternative aus 100% recycelten Materialien //

Blake Lee has always been fascinated by the unknown, and space, in its isolating, mysterious vastness, embodies this theme immaculately. The open void, captured so memorably by Stanley Kubrick in '2001: A Space Odyssey', is Blake's far-reaching canvas on 'No Sound In Space', a cinematic meditation on the cosmos that's painted in nuanced, emotionally sincere colors. The Los Angeles-based composer has been contemplating his full-length debut since 2021, using his guitar as a sonic paintbrush rather than find himself snared in its traditional aesthetic constraints. Transforming its characteristics with effects and subtle processes, he layers sustained tones and intimate improvisations, creating richly visual polychromatic utopias teeming with unknown life.

Since 2011, Blake has been most known for being the guitarist and a music director for Lana Del Rey, notching up three songwriting credits on her acclaimed ‘Ultraviolence’ full length. He sees his solo work is a form of escapism, a place where he can experiment and find comfort and catharsis outside of expectations and formal structure. The album was written instinctively, and Blake made sure he didn't force anything, letting go and getting out of his own way, listening intently as sounds and textures materialized organically. "I didn't want to ruin it by being a perfectionist," he laughs. And his collaboration with Kenyan sound artist KMRU, who runs the OFNOT label and contributes to two of the tracks on the album, occurred similarly organically.

Blake was moved to reach out to KMRU when he caught a performance of 'Natur' at Los Angeles' Zebulon in 2022, leading to a prolonged back-and-forth. They didn't meet in person until earlier this year, by which time they'd become firm friends, continuously sharing music and conversation. KMRU had lent a valuable ear to Blake, who sent early playlists of 'NSIS' that, over the months, slowly evolved into the finished album. It's the first release on OFNOT that's not by KMRU himself; the label emerged last year with the release of KMRU's own 'Dissolution Grip', and Blake's debut immediately expands its sonic universe. Alongside the playlists, Blake also provided KMRU with the tracks' raw stems, which KMRU began to edit and expand in his Berlin studio. 'Miura' and 'Waiting' are the result of this process, two sublime abstractions that augment Blake's dreamlike, euphoric tones with KMRU's pebbly distortions and booming low-end rumbles. And this same playful sense of freeness seeps into Blake's other compositions.

On the misty 'In A Cloud', he surrounds cascading string tones with soft-focus pads that swell until they're like crashing waves, and on the two 'Echoplexx' pieces, he uses delay and reverb to smudge his sounds until they're viscous residue, the harmonies obscured by whooshes of white noise and distant chimes. The mood is quieted somewhat on 'Moving Air', as Blake's swirling tones form half-heard lullabies, coalescing into a dense, melancholy crescendo, and he fills out the sound with reverberant airport recordings on 'Pan Am', letting pitchy My Bloody Valentine-esque drones warble beneath the transitory chatter. Each track melts into the next, forming a billowing, cryptic narrative that leaves more questions than answers. Blake is constantly searching, and fills his unoccupied space with warmth, perception and sensitivity.

Blake Lee has always been fascinated by the unknown, and space, in its isolating, mysterious vastness, embodies this theme immaculately. The open void, captured so memorably by Stanley Kubrick in '2001: A Space Odyssey', is Blake's far-reaching canvas on 'No Sound In Space', a cinematic meditation on the cosmos that's painted in nuanced, emotionally sincere colors. The Los Angeles-based composer has been contemplating his full-length debut since 2021, using his guitar as a sonic paintbrush rather than find himself snared in its traditional aesthetic constraints. Transforming its characteristics with effects and subtle processes, he layers sustained tones and intimate improvisations, creating richly visual polychromatic utopias teeming with unknown life.

Since 2011, Blake has been most known for being the guitarist and a music director for Lana Del Rey, notching up three songwriting credits on her acclaimed ‘Ultraviolence’ full length. He sees his solo work is a form of escapism, a place where he can experiment and find comfort and catharsis outside of expectations and formal structure. The album was written instinctively, and Blake made sure he didn't force anything, letting go and getting out of his own way, listening intently as sounds and textures materialized organically. "I didn't want to ruin it by being a perfectionist," he laughs. And his collaboration with Kenyan sound artist KMRU, who runs the OFNOT label and contributes to two of the tracks on the album, occurred similarly organically.

Blake was moved to reach out to KMRU when he caught a performance of 'Natur' at Los Angeles' Zebulon in 2022, leading to a prolonged back-and-forth. They didn't meet in person until earlier this year, by which time they'd become firm friends, continuously sharing music and conversation. KMRU had lent a valuable ear to Blake, who sent early playlists of 'NSIS' that, over the months, slowly evolved into the finished album. It's the first release on OFNOT that's not by KMRU himself; the label emerged last year with the release of KMRU's own 'Dissolution Grip', and Blake's debut immediately expands its sonic universe. Alongside the playlists, Blake also provided KMRU with the tracks' raw stems, which KMRU began to edit and expand in his Berlin studio. 'Miura' and 'Waiting' are the result of this process, two sublime abstractions that augment Blake's dreamlike, euphoric tones with KMRU's pebbly distortions and booming low-end rumbles. And this same playful sense of freeness seeps into Blake's other compositions.

On the misty 'In A Cloud', he surrounds cascading string tones with soft-focus pads that swell until they're like crashing waves, and on the two 'Echoplexx' pieces, he uses delay and reverb to smudge his sounds until they're viscous residue, the harmonies obscured by whooshes of white noise and distant chimes. The mood is quieted somewhat on 'Moving Air', as Blake's swirling tones form half-heard lullabies, coalescing into a dense, melancholy crescendo, and he fills out the sound with reverberant airport recordings on 'Pan Am', letting pitchy My Bloody Valentine-esque drones warble beneath the transitory chatter. Each track melts into the next, forming a billowing, cryptic narrative that leaves more questions than answers. Blake is constantly searching, and fills his unoccupied space with warmth, perception and sensitivity.