Suche:big lad

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

=

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

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

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

=

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

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

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

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

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

=

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

=

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

=

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

More 'hard hitting guitar soul' from East London band New Street Adventure who are back on Acid Jazz with their new album No Hard Feelings.

Alternative rockers Barenaked Ladies are best known for their hit singles, “One Week”, “The Old Apartment”, “Pinch Me”, “If I Had
$1000000”, “Brian Wilson” and the theme song for the sitcom The Big Bang Theory. Revered for their light-hearted, comedic performance style and humorous banter between songs, improvised raps/songs are staples at most concerts. They have won multiple Juno Awards and have been nominated for Grammy Awards. The group has sold over 15 million records including albums and singles.

Stunt (1998) is their fourth full-length studio album, and by far their most successful. It entered the US Charts at third place and sold over 4 million units by the end of its chart run. It is one of the best albums the Barenaked Ladies has released. Its first single, “One Week” became the band’s breakthrough single in the U.S. market by topping the charts, and also entered the top 10 in the UK.

Stunt is available as a limited edition of 3000 individually numbered copies on translucent yellow coloured vinyl and includes an insert.

Demon Records is proud to present a new ‘Best Of’ collection that gathers together twelve
highlights from across the Box Tops’s career.
• Formed in Memphis in 1967, the Box Tops were fronted by Alex Chilton (who later went on to lead
Big Star) and are best known for their blue-eyed soul and psychedelic pop-rock sound on hits
including ‘The Letter’, ‘Cry Like A Baby’, ‘Choo Choo Train’ and ‘Soul Deep’. Alongside those classic
singles, this new collection also includes a selection of lesser known fan favourites including ‘Neon
Rainbow’, ‘Sweet Cream Ladies, Forward March’, and their cover of Procol Harum’s ‘Whiter Shade
Of Pale’.
• Pressed on 140g vinyl and housed in a printed inner sleeve featuring new liner notes by Alan
Robinson. Also available as a comprehensive 2CD edition.

This volume "Caribbean Rare Groove" is an invitation to discover music from the cultural mix of the islands and countries located on the Caribbean Sea. From Haiti to the Bahamas via the French West Indies, this journey explores the traditional rhythms of Soca, Calypso or Biguine that musicians such as Gordon Henderson, Max Cilla or the group Skah-Shah have skilfully blended with Soul, Funk or Disco influences, creating a unique groove with multiple facets. Have a good trip!

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

=

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

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

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

=

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

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

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

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

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

=

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

=

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

=

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

In a world hurtling towards new frontiers of horror on a daily basis, there’s precious little time for pause. For the self respecting artist, the only reasonable solution is psychic warfare. Such is the terrain of Petbrick on the titanic and transformative Liminal. Here on their second album the duo of Wayne Adams (Big Lad/Johnny Broke) and Iggor Cavalera (Sepultura/Cavalera Conspiracy/Soulwax) lays waste to all or any constrictions in its path, Blending a vast sonic landscape with a relentless compunction to break the pain barrier, Liminal is a dizzying exercise in overdrive which can take in industrial abrasions, pulverising rhythmic drive, acid-damaged freakery, cinematic tension and balladic gravitas in disarmingly coherent fashion. Other heads and personalities also came on board to add richness and intrigue to the onslaught - “I believe we got an amazing team of collaborators - from old school friends like Neurosis’ Steve Von Tilll and Converge’s Jacob Bannon to new school artists like Paula Rebbeledo from Rakta and New York doom rappers Lord Goat and Truck Jewelz” notes Iggor. This is an album birthed in difficult times and expressly engaged with raging against the dying of the light. As Iggor puts it “Liminal is an insane mirror of what being isolated feels like - madness through noise experimentations” An alchemical vision fit to both elevate the spirit and destroy everything in its path, ‘Liminal’ is the sound of Petbrick blasting their way through the boundaries of a fresh hell. Tracks: 01. Primer 02. Arboria 03. Pigeon Kick 04. Raijin 05. Lysergic Aura (Feat. Lord Goat & Truck Jewelz) 06. Damballa 07. Ayan 08. Grind You Dull (Feat. Jake Bannon) 09. Chemical Returns 10. Distorted Peace (Feat. Paula Rebellato) 11. Reckoning (Feat. Steve Von Till

On new record For The Birds, Atlanta-based Neighbor Lady expand the
boundaries of their country-kissed indie rock sound to encompass an
elegant style of lush and textural guitar pop sprinkled with, as songwriter
and vocalist Emily Braden puts it, with "reverb and magic
" Full of gorgeous top- line melodies, spirited rock hooks, and Braden's richly
emotive vocals (and plenty of twang), For The Birds takes a kaleidoscopic
approach to genre. The record features everything from catchy alternative
("Penny Pick It Up") and starry- eyed country ("I'm With You") to straightforward
indie rock ("Scared") and ambient- indebted otherworldly pop ("Haunted").
Neighbor Lady began as Braden's solo project, but is now a four-piece consisting
of Braden, guitarist Jack Blauvelt, bassist Payton Collier, and drummer Andrew
McFarland. The band recorded For The Birds with Jason Kingsland (Kaiser Chiefs,
Band of Horses, Belle & Sebastian) at Diamond Street Studios in Atlanta and it
was mixed by Noah Georgeson (Andy Shauf, Cate Le Bon, Devendra Banhart,
Joanna Newsom.) Though For The Birds is hallmarked by big sonic flourishes
and brave moments of experimentation, the overall feeling is one of intimacy —
four people in a room, making music together; fitting for a group of musicians
who say they feel less like a band and more like a family. "This record came out of
a lot of love and hard work and us caring so much about the music and each
other," says Braden. "And that's pretty much what we're about."

The band describe the EP:

“This EP is definitely bigger, having more time in the studio definitely meant we got to experiment more and layer more into each track so there’s an overall bigger sound! The main themes of this EP are restlessness and anxiety, during lockdown that’s how myself and most people were feeling so that’s what inspired a lot of the writing.”

Very limited vinyl pressing, 500 copies in a full colour single outer sleeve and full colour printed lyric inner sleeve, housing a 2-colour blue and yellow cosmic swirl vinyl. Full download included as well. Blacklab are back. The self-proclaimed ‘Doom witch duo from Osaka’ are set to drop their 3rd album ‘In A Bizarre Dream’ this summer. Their debut ‘Under the Strawberry Moon 2.0’ saw them taking Sabbath inspired doom, mashing it with a Japanese sensibility and a fuzzed-up groove. It certainly caused a stir, but only hinted at their potential. Album two ‘Abyss’ added to the mix. A Stooges like squalor to the riffs, dollops of lo-fi hardcore punk and loose riffing, pointing the way towards a signature sound. So what of the ‘difficult’ third album? Not so difficult at all it seems. ‘In A Bizarre Dream’ ups the ante considerably, to let rip and define what Blacklab are about. The combined talents of Jun Morino on production and Wayne Adams (Big Lad, Green Lung, Pet Brick, John, Cold In Berlin) on the mix have conspired to produce a towering beast of a record. A real step forward for the ‘Doom Witch Duo’. The drums have a humungous ‘Fugazi’ like welly, and the guitars are a boiling maelstrom of fuzz dense riffola and warped psychedelics, with added synth. Yuko’s throat shredding snarls are as mean as a pissed off Satan, and melodious, often within the same song. This is doom meets hardcore punk, hooky melodies, and killer riffs, all cranked up to the max. Japan has always had a special take on ‘noise’ and ‘heavy’ and with ‘In A Bizarre Dream’ Blacklab add their own spin to that tradition. Gone is the lo-fi approach, here is Blacklab in full effect. ‘Cold Rain’ and ‘Abyss Woods’ (debuted at their storming set at London’s Desert Fest and appearing here in its full version) are two nuggets of epic fuzz heavy doom with added screamo and a neat and canny grasp of melody at its core. Very much a Blacklab trademark. ‘Dark Clouds’ is D-beat fuelled hardcore, fierce and ferocious, with Chia’s rolling thunder drumming underpinning the distorted guitar. It’s pretty exhilarating stuff that shifts the mood perfectly. ‘Evil I’ is just that, a riff as evil as it gets, morphing into a chugging punk wig out. Then followed by ‘Evil II’ a breather, almost mellow, melancholy, with layers of dark overdrive threatening to explode beneath a sweet yet menacing vocal. Then, the mid-point of the album drops a real surprise. Yuko has said before that the band’s name is a combination of her two favourite bands, Black Sabbath and Stereolab. Odd bedfellows to be sure, but if you want to know what that combination might sound like ... here it is. ‘Crows, Sparrows and Cats’ actually features Laetitia Sadier of Stereolab, no less, providing the lead vocal, adding a layer of cool over Blacklab’s Hawkwind meets krautrock sludge. It’s a stoner groove with pop at its heart ...Sludge Pop even, a surprising gem amongst the maelstrom of sound around it. The skewed, sludgecore of ‘Lost’ with its push-pull riffs and rolling thunder drumming, signals that it’s back to business as usual. And after the brief atmospheric instrumental interlude that gives the album its title, comes ‘Monochrome Rainbow’ a huge beast of a track so simple, yet so seductive, from its filtered bass intro to its massive ebb and flow groove and stomping ending. The vocals are all mystery and melody, and the music is kind of a Groundhogs meets Goatsnake ten-ton fuzz-fest, with a singalong, wave your arms in the air chorus. The new Japanese Doom-blues, and what could be the album’s defining moment. ‘In A Bizarre Dream’ closes with ‘Collapse’ verging on noise rock, complete with throat shredding vocals and a crushing wall of guitars, that switch from a stoner groove to full on punk assault, teetering on mayhem before finally ending with the sound of Yuko switching off her fuzz pedal. Perfect. Blacklab have negotiated that ‘difficult’ third album with aplomb and have created a sound that, despite their many influences, is all their own.

Rock Eupora, the moniker for Mississippi-bred, Nashville-based artist Clayton Waller, has always been a heart-on-your-sleeve musical endeavor. From his earliest recordings, Waller has never been afraid to ask the big, searching questions of life. Catchy, hooky pop sensibilities have similarly been a consistent through-line in Rock Eupora's catalogue. Featuring singable, fuzzed-out guitar hooks and stuck-in-your-head-all-afternoon choruses, the discography of Rock Eupora–including three full-length albums, two EPs, and a smattering of singles to date–brings to mind Blue Album-era Weezer or the high-energy, hard-charging, harmony-laden early Beatles singles. These defining features are still present in Pick At The Scab, Rock Eupora's latest full-length album, and yet, something feels different. "I wanted to let the songs breathe a bit," Waller says of his mindset while writing the material that would become the songs for Pick At The Scab. "I gravitate towards writing up-beat, high energy songs, but this time around, I decided to lean back a little and let the songs speak for themselves."

Picture London, thirty years ago, as Neneh Cherry gears up to release her debut album Raw Like Sushi - a thrumming, restless, vibrant city that in 1989, much like today, pulsed defiantly against a backdrop of increasing political doom, rocking to the joyful noise of culture leaping across boundaries, radically reordering itself. Rents are low.

Soho hums to the chatter of poets, vagabonds and petty sex tourists drinking in the same elixir of possibility. The divisions between the queens of Old Compton and mods and punks of Carnaby Streets look huge but feel slight. A spirit of multiracial unity permeates the air.

New York hip hop and Chicago house continue their euphoric colonisation of nightclub culture. Amid this maelstrom, Neneh Cherry emerges, capturing the entire, giddy rumble of this rolling community street culture in one record, Raw Like Sushi. With no interest in genre, Raw Like Sushi upsets and inverts everything you thought you knew about how pop can work, at it's brightest and most effective.

One of the greatest debut albums of all time, born halfway between Never Mind The Bollocks and Boy In Da Corner, Raw Like Sushi was ready to escort you right to the centre of it's dancefloor, dripping hot sweat under a mirrorball at 3am - and its particular magic remains just as potent today.

To celebrate the 30th anniversary of an album that culturally, musically and stylistically defined a generation and everything that followed, Raw Like Sushi has been remastered at Abbey Road and will be released in super deluxe format across 3CD and 3LP heavyweight vinyl box sets, and 1CD and 1LP formats.

The box sets include a stunning 48-page 12x12 book packed full of iconic photos, new interviews, liner notes and memorabilia. The album features five of Neneh’s biggest singles - including the worldwide smash hit single ‘Buffalo Stance’ as well as hit singles ‘Manchild’ produced by Massive Attack’s Robert Del Naja, ‘Kisses On The Wind’, ‘Heart’ and ‘Inna City Mamma’. It also features rare mixes of key tracks by Massive Attack, Arthur Baker, Smith N Mighty, and more.

Since the release of Raw Like Sushi 30 years ago, Neneh Cherry has continued to define and redefine culture, style and music releasing five studio albums, including 2018’s Broken Politics, produced by Four Tet, which was met with critical acclaim by the likes of The Guardian, Rolling Stone, The Times, Q and Pitchfork.

Neneh went on to tour the album throughout 2019 including her largest ever headline show at London’s Roundhouse, and festival performances at Glastonbury, Latitude, Primavera, Pitchfork and more proving her music and message more relevant than ever.

LIMITED EDITION DIRTY WHITE VINYL REMASTER.
FIRST TIME AVAILABLE ON VINYL FOR 15 YEARS. 300 COPIES.

17th anniversary remaster. New sleeve artwork with photos by Steve Gullick and pressed on dirty white vinyl.
Ladybird ... one perfect heavy as fuck hypnotic riff played over and over and over and over across 2 sides of an LP.
Back when Shit And Shine formed, the idea was basically to sound like their heroes DRUNKS WITH GUNS and STRANGULATED BEATOFFS, using that same basic formula. A big dumb ass catchy riff played over and over until the joke gets old ... then keep going.
Recorded live at Southern Studios, London (fun fact: the same room where BAUHAUS recorded 'Bela Lugosi's Dead'!) in 2004 with just two basses, a snare drum, a huge cardboard box and a tiny toy Casio sa-1 keyboard (using the "airplane" sound hitting the same key over and over for 41 minutes)
Some still say it's the best thing shit and shine has ever done. I'm not arguing.
Originally released on CD, and super limited vinyl waaay back in 2005. This was Shit And Shine's second release and it sold out REAL quick.
Remastered and beefed the hell up by Craig Clouse at Shit And Shine Ranch 2022.
Don't sleep on it.

"Rare, super limited 003 from SATURATE! Records 7'' single series, featuring the bigger than life artists heRobust from Atlanta and Pixelord from Moscow. Silky and crunchy."

180g audiophile vinyl reissue of Mary Lou Williams' highly sought after
1976 LP 'Free Spirits', featuring bassist Buster Williams and drummer
Mickey Roker
The First Lady of jazz, Mary Lou Williams (1910 - 1981) was the evolution of jazz
itself. Starting her professional career as pianist/composer/arranger in the 20s,
her style was swing but in the '40s she adopted the bop and later on she even
ventured into the realm of avant-garde jazz. Yet she never lost her blues feeling
which is evident in this long-awaited LP.
She contributed compositions and arrangements for many famous big bands
such as Andy Kirk, Benny Goodman, Earl Hines, Duke Ellington and Dizzy
Gillespie. In the late '60s and the '70s she was more focused on composing
sacred music. And one of her jazz masses was choreographed by Alvin Ailey.
Around the time of this recording Mary Lou in her mid-60s was still active in the
New York jazz scene performing regularly at the Cookery with the group recorded
here. SteepleChase was proud to have the opportunity of recording one of the
most significant artists of jazz of this century.

We like what Trouble have done with this album, “Plastic Green Head”. The music sounds fairly dissimilar to the completely doom-laden, crushing riffs present on the earlier material, but what Trouble do here sounds every bit authentic. Not to mislead you, this definitely still sounds like Trouble, but they seem to have adopted a more laidback, stoner metal approach; sacrificing sinister atmospheres for more upbeat ones. The first few tracks are completely awesome offerings of vintage Trouble. The playful, thrashy riff of the title track, which opens the album, is a great introduction to the music at hand and Eric Wagner’s distinctive vocals sound powerful overtop. “Plastic Green Head,” “The Eye,” “Flowers,” these are all what you would expect from Trouble, huge churning riffs, 80 bpm drumbeats, Eric Wagners nasal yet powerful voice. They are simple, they are catchy, and they are just plain good. “The Porpoise Song” is a cover of a song by The Monkees, and strangely enough it’s very good. Big wall of guitar noise, and Eric singing in a less nasal and more melodic voice. “Opium Eater” sounds like it could easily be an Alice in Chains song. On this album there is silly plenty of Sabbath worship, but also more of an upbeat, hard rock feel. We would even say that a little grunge has crept into their sound (to be fair, it’s probably the other way around, Trouble influence crept into grunge.) If you’re looking for a nice dose of stoner metal, you’ll find just that right here. There’s plenty of memorable riffs which provide good replay value, and although you won’t find as much doom as you might expect from Trouble, it’s still there if you look for it.

Taking inspiration from the likes of Isaac Hayes and Lonnie Liston Smith, ‘Piggyback’ is up-tempo and simmering from the off, with synth strings building tension in the intro alongside a menacing guitar riff and haunting brass stabs.

‘Piggyback’ is a social commentary on the idea that we all become more successful only by associating with people higher up the ladder than ourselves.

‘Deeper In Love’ sees Corbin return to his soulful roots, drawing influences from the likes of Al Green, Syl Johnson and Leroy Hutson to create a smooth groove helped along by some stunning horns and backing vocals.

Speaking about the song Nick says, “Lyrically it was partly inspired by John Legend’s ‘Ordinary People’ - I wanted to write a love song about how challenging times can bring people closer together. The last year or so has really tested a lot of relationships and I felt it was important to have light and shade.”

Recorded at Ernie McKone’s Boogie Back studio in North London, Nick is supported by a stellar line-up of musicians including Mick Talbot on Hammond and Wurlitzer and the dream team horn section of Tom White (Labrinth) and Paul Jordanous (Rag 'n' Bone Man).

On new record For The Birds, Atlanta-based Neighbor Lady expand the
boundaries of their country-kissed indie rock sound to encompass an
elegant style of lush and textural guitar pop sprinkled with, as songwriter
and vocalist Emily Braden puts it, with "reverb and magic
" Full of gorgeous top- line melodies, spirited rock hooks, and Braden's richly
emotive vocals (and plenty of twang), For The Birds takes a kaleidoscopic
approach to genre. The record features everything from catchy alternative
("Penny Pick It Up") and starry- eyed country ("I'm With You") to straightforward
indie rock ("Scared") and ambient- indebted otherworldly pop ("Haunted").
Neighbor Lady began as Braden's solo project, but is now a four-piece consisting
of Braden, guitarist Jack Blauvelt, bassist Payton Collier, and drummer Andrew
McFarland. The band recorded For The Birds with Jason Kingsland (Kaiser Chiefs,
Band of Horses, Belle & Sebastian) at Diamond Street Studios in Atlanta and it
was mixed by Noah Georgeson (Andy Shauf, Cate Le Bon, Devendra Banhart,
Joanna Newsom.) Though For The Birds is hallmarked by big sonic flourishes
and brave moments of experimentation, the overall feeling is one of intimacy —
four people in a room, making music together; fitting for a group of musicians
who say they feel less like a band and more like a family. "This record came out of
a lot of love and hard work and us caring so much about the music and each
other," says Braden. "And that's pretty much what we're about."

It’s going off and The Chisel are back to cause a bit of bovver. Following a trio of explosive singles, the band finally bring us their debut full-length album, Retaliation, on the London-based punk institution La Vida Es Un Mus. Having formed in early 2020 and featuring a crew of members with long-term associations to the London punk scene, The Chisel quickly secured a reputation as one of the most exciting bands from a pool of contemporaries that includes Chubby & The Gang, Stingray and Big Cheese. Their sound is rooted firmly in Punk but with influences that run across the board to create a distinctive blend of Oi!, anarcho, UK-82 and hardcore. Retaliation is an unmistakably British record that draws a line from 1982 up to the present day, pushing its way into your collection and torching your stereo. Opening with the agitated force of ‘Unlawful Execution’, the tone is firmly set by a song that addresses the brutality of the Met Police (“Tell me what’s the difference between right or wrong / When a copper gets to blast a lad who did nothing wrong”). ‘Come See Me’ is a ferocious ode to camaraderie in the face of mouthy boneheads and bellends. ‘Shit Life Syndrome’ is a poisoned reference to the same cynical phrase used by physicians to describe the effects of people living under poverty and in the grips of substance abuse (“How can you expect people to act nicely, they’ve all been left on the edge of society”). It’s one of many songs influenced by singer Cal’s experiences of growing up in the working-class town of Blackpool. Cal states: “Blackpool as a town is often overlooked or even looked down upon, I wanted to write lyrics which gave the people of my town a voice”. With tunes like these The Chisel show that they’ll never pull any punches. However, beyond the fury and the swagger there’s another side that plays to an additional strength; the ability to write a memorable hook. Songs like ‘Retaliation’, ‘Tooth & Nail’ and ‘Not The Only One’ could be described as modern day anthems (the latter has become a fan favourite since the arrival of their first live shows) and cement their identity as a band not to be defined by their influences. Recorded by Jonah Falco at Total Refreshment Centre, London, March 2021.
Mixed by James Atkinson at the Stationhouse in Leeds. Mastered by Daniel Husayn at North London Bomb Factory. Cover painting by Tara Atefi.

In the midst of the pandemic, the Goo Goo Dolls put on a real rock show
of their most popular songs on a visually stunning augmented reality
FanTracks stage
The band played their hit-laden back catalogue for a career-spanning live set from
Thunder Studios in Long Beach, California.
Featuring the band's biggest hit Iris with amazing HQ sound, the Goo Goo Dolls
rock the virtual crowd who get to enjoy the full, slick, multi-camera angled show in
all its glory.
From new tracks like Miracle Pill to their career big hitters like Black Balloon and
Broadway, this was the band giving fans as much of the full Goo Goo Dolls live
concert experience as they could, given the circumstances.

After two UK #1 albums, 2 million album sales and an array of international acclaim, you might’ve thought you knew what to expect from Royal Blood. Those preconceptions were shattered when they released ‘Trouble’s Coming’ last summer. Hitting a melting pot of fiery rock riffs and danceable beats, they delivered something fresh, unexpected and yet entirely in tune with what they’d forged their reputation with.
The reaction was phenomenal, with highlights including 20 million streams, a premiere as Annie Mac’s Hottest Record and a run on Radio 1’s A-list and earned alternative radio support and media attention across the globe. In short, Royal Blood are primed to be bigger than ever before. That feat is set to be realised when they release their eagerly anticipated third album ‘Typhoons’ on April 30th via Warner Records.
When Mike Kerr and Ben Thatcher sat down to talk about making a new album, they knew what they wanted to achieve. It involved a conscious return to their roots, back when they had made music that was influenced by Daft Punk, Justice, and Philippe Zdar of Cassius. It also called for a similar back-to-basics approach to what had made their self-titled debut album so thrilling, visceral and original.
“We sort of stumbled on this sound, and it was immediately fun to play,” recalls Kerr. “That’s what sparked the creativity on the new album, the chasing of that feeling. It’s weird, though - if you think back to ‘Figure it Out’, it kind of contains the embryo of this album. We realised that we didn’t have to completely destroy what we’d created so far; we just had to shift it, change it. On paper, it’s a small reinvention. But when you hear it, it sounds so fresh.”

Those traits pulsate throughout the new single and title track. Kerr’s spiralling bass riff casts an hypnotic allure as it grows in intensity, while his vocals switch at will between a raw rock roar and a soulful falsetto. It’s underpinned by Thatcher’s thundering beats, his taut rhythms infused with groove-laden hi-hats.



After setting the tone with ‘Trouble’s Coming’, the album opens in breathless, take-no-prisoners style with the fierce metallic grooves of ‘Who Needs Friends’ hitting an early visceral peak. Royal Blood further reference their fresh array of influences by deploying vocodered vocals on ‘Million & One’ before dynamically switching between the biggest contrasts of their sound with ‘Limbo’. Already a fan favourite having been a regular during the duo’s 2019 shows, ‘Boilermaker’ lives up to its reputation and is more than matched by ‘Mad Visions’, which evokes a hyper-aggressive Prince. It ends with a final surprise in the shape of the stark piano ballad ‘All We Have Is Now’, a vulnerable and revealing reminder to live in the moment.

That song’s unguarded sentiments gives the album a redemptive finale. Whether directly or allusively, the album focuses on exploring the flipside of success that they’ve experienced. It comes from the realisation that success is much more complicated than it seems and that having the time to regain perspective is a precious commodity which becomes ever more elusive. The situation called for reflection and change, which Kerr addressed in Las Vegas. He downed an espresso martini and declared it to be his last drink, and soon discovered that his new-found sobriety would have a positive impact upon his creativity and life as a whole.

That new approach manifested itself in the duo’s decision to produce the majority of ‘Typhoons’ themselves. ‘Boilermaker’ was produced by Queens of the Stone Age frontman Josh Homme, the two bands having first connected when Royal Blood supported them on a huge North American tour. Meanwhile, the multiple Grammy Award winner Paul Epworth produced ‘Who Needs Friends’ and contributed additional production to ‘Trouble’s Coming’.

Unstoppable elders of the L'Entourloop collective, King James and Sir Johnny, are proud to present on June 10, 2022 their long-awaited third and new album entitled "Clarity in Confusion". Featuring Alborosie, Promoe, Degiheugi, General Levy, The Architect ...

It is now official, 2022 will mark the return of the tireless seniors of the collective L'ENTOURLOOP! After a break to devote themselves to the creation of a new album and a new live show that promises to be exceptional, they are back on the road, more determined than ever!
The success of their last albums "Chickens in Your Town" (2015) and "Le Savoir-Faire" (2017), with their unique "Banging hip-hop inna Yardie Style" never cease to seduce sound-system, vinyl and French classics fans, all over the world.

Exit Wounds: The Album is the soundtrack to the Andrzej Bartkowiak 2001 film, Exit Wounds. Executive produced by Barry and Jomo Hankerson, the album features production from a variety of producers including Dame Grease, Irv Gotti, Bud'da, Eric Seats, DJ Paul, Juicy J, The Beat Bullies, & Timbaland. Appearances include Black Child, Drag-On, Ja Rule, Lady Luck, Mack 10, Memphis Bleek, Nas, Redman, Sheek Louch, Styles P, Three 6 Mafia, Trick Daddy, Trina & WC, as well as the film's star, DMX. The album peaked at number 8 on the Bullboard 200 and features the hit single, "No Sunshine."

‘Mehldau can truly translate his thoughts and feelings into complex and lasting music. He is one of those people whose brain and fingers and musical ability is all one beautiful entity.’ – Jamie Cullum

Nonesuch Records releases Brad Mehldau’s Jacob’s Ladder on 2 x 140g black vinyl on June 17th . The album features new music that reflects on scripture and the search for God through music inspired by the prog rock Mehldau loved as a young adolescent, which was his gateway to the fusion that eventually led to his discovery of jazz. Featured musicians on the album include Mehldau’s label mates Chris Thile and Cécile McLorin Salvant, as well as Mark Guiliana, Becca Stevens, Joel Frahm, and others. The album’s first single, ‘maybe as his skies are wide’, builds off an interpolation of one portion of Rush’s classic ‘Tom Sawyer’.

Mehldau explains, “We are born close to God, and as we mature, we invariably move further and further away from Him on account of our ego. Jacob’s Ladder begins at that place closer to God with the voice of child, and then moves into the world of action. God is always there, but in our discovery and conquest, and all the joys and sorrows they bring, we may lose sight of him. He sets a ladder before us though, like in Jacob’s dream, and we climb towards him, to find reconciliation with ourselves, to stitch up all those worldly wounds and finally heal. The record ends with my vision of heaven – once again as a child, His child, in eternal grace, in ecstasy.

“The musical conduit on the record is prog,” Mehldau continues. “Prog – progressive rock – was the music of my childhood, before I discovered jazz. It matched the fantasy and science fiction books I read from C.S. Lewis, Madeleine L’Engle and others at that time, aged ten through twelve. It was my gateway to the fusion of Miles Davis, Weather Report, Mahavishnu Orchestra and other groups, which in turn was the gateway to more jazz. Jazz shared with prog a broader expressive scope and larger-scale ambitions than the rock music I had known already.

“The prog from Rush, Gentle Giant, and Emerson, Lake and Palmer here only hints at the genre’s conceptual, compositional and emotional range. These bands and others have continued to influence newer groups that bring prog impulses into the arena of hard rock and screaming math metal, like Periphery, whose music is included here, and also inspired the screaming vocals on ‘Herr und Knecht.’ I tried to avoid a direct tribute approach to all the songs, and opted in some cases for excerpts, or reworking of themes.”

Although Brad Mehldau is best known as a jazz composer and improviser, he has made several albums that fall outside of the mainstream jazz genre, including his 2001 Largo, produced by Jon Brion. Wide-ranging in texture and big in scale, it features woodwind or brass ensembles are on several tracks, as well as a heavy emphasis on powerful drums. In 2010, Nonesuch released his second collaboration with Brion, Highway Rider, which includes performances by Mehldau’s trio – drummer Jeff Ballard and bassist Larry Grenadier – as well as drummer Matt Chamberlain, saxophonist Joshua Redman, and a chamber orchestra led by Dan Coleman. Mehldau also orchestrated and arranged the album’s fifteen pieces for the ensemble.

Mehldau’s 2014 collaboration with Mark Guiliana, Mehliana: Taming the Dragon featured Mehldau on Fender Rhodes and synthesizers and Guiliana on drums and effects, playing twelve original tunes – six by the duo and six by Mehldau. His 2019 album Finding Gabriel featured performances by him on piano, synthesizers, percussion, and Fender Rhodes, as well as vocals. Guest musicians included Ambrose Akinmusire, Sara Caswell, Kurt Elling, Joel Frahm, Mark Guiliana, Gabriel Kahane, and Becca Stevens, among others.

Little Bihlman ist ein mit dem Emmy Award ausgezeichneter Singer-Songwriter, der schon mit legendären Künstlern wie John Fogerty, Trey Anastasio (Phish), Dug Pinnick (King's X) und dem legendären Blueser Son Seals gearbeitet hat und mit seinem Solo Album einen zeitgemäßen und doch sofortigen 10-Song-Klassiker abliefert.

Little Bihlman ist ein mit dem Emmy Award ausgezeichneter Singer-Songwriter, der mit "The Legend Of Hipster Billings" ein Americana beeinflusstes Rockalbum vorlegt.
Die originellen Songs und Geschichten sind geschnitzt aus den Kämpfen und Triumphen des Lebens, inspiriert von Motorrädern, Sonnenschein, Kaffee, Staub, Whiskey, Regen, Tattoos, Narben, Benzin und Herzschmerz. "The Legend of Hipster Billings" lädt ein zu einer musikalischen Reise durch das Herzland Amerikas ein. Von Chicago, nach Nashville über den großen Mississippi in die Badlands von Dakota, hinauf in die majestätischen Berge von Utah und hinunter in die Lichter der Großstadt Las Vegas.
"The Legend of Hipster Billings" wurde aufgenommen und produziert von Miles Fulwider (Wynton Marsalis, Willie Nelson, Norah Jones und Chick Corea) ud Andrew Glasmacher. Little selbst blickt auf seine eigene persönlichen Reise sowie auf die Zusammenarbeit mit so herrausragdenden Künstlern wie John Fogerty, Trey Anastasio (Phish), Dug Pinnick (King's X) und dem legendären Bluesman Son Seals.
Little gibt dem Americana-Rock eine neue, zeitgemäße Note, indem er tiefgründige Texte, dreckige Gitarrenriffs, Gospel-Harmonien und mitreißende Grooves zum Einsatz bringt, welche diesem Album eine besondere Kraft verleiht.
Bihlman's Songs verkörpern eine authentische Annäherung an die Essenz von Herz und Seele, welche uns alle zusammenhält.
Während seiner bisherigen Karriere war Little mit mehr als 50 Songs in TV/Filmen weltweit. Dabei so große Sender wie FOX, ABC, CBS und Netflix. Darunter die preisgekrönten Serien "Sons of Anarchy", "Days of Our Lives" und kürzlich "Big Sky".
Little Bihlman hat sich einen Weg über den amerikanischen Rock-Highway gebahnt und sich als vielseitiger Musiker und Singer-Songwriter etabliert. Als Tournee-Veteran hat Little mit vielen der großen Rock- und Blues-Legenden an weltberühmten Orten gespielt, darunter das Weiße Haus mit dem legendären Bluesman Son Seals. Im Laufe der Jahre hat Little mit Grammy-prämierten Produzenten wie Jim Gaines (Journey, Stevie Ray Vaughan, Huey Lewis ), Roy Thomas Baker (Queen, The Cars) und Bruce Robb (Cherokee Studios) gearbeitet, um nur einige zu nennen.
Die Songs auf diesem Album tragen Geschichten in sich, welche sich beim Hören auf mysteriöse und wunderbare Art entfalten.

If you’re looking for a raw, sugary blast of distorted pop, look no further than
‘Weird Nightmare’. The debut album from METZ guitarist and vocalist Alex
Edkins contains all of his main band’s bite with an unexpected, yet totally
satisfying, sweetness. Imagine The Amps covering Big Star, or the gloriously
hissy miniature epics of classic-era Guided by Voices combined with the
bombast of ‘Copper Blue’- era Sugar - just tons of red-line distortion cut with the
type of tunecraft that thrills the moment it hits your ears.
 These ten songs showcase a new side of Edkins’ already-established
songwriting, but even though the bulk of ‘Weird Nightmare’ was recorded during
the COVID-19 pandemic, some of its tunes date back to 2013 in demo form.
“Hooks and melody have always been a big part of my writing, but they really
became the main focus this time” he explains. “It was about doing what felt
natural.”
 To be clear: Weird Nightmare is not a ‘pandemic album’, but an album - some of
which had been gestating for quite a while - that just so happened to be recorded
during the pandemic. “I had always planned on finishing these songs, but being
unable to tour with METZ, and forced to lock down, really gave me a push.” After
days spent homeschooling his son, Edkins would drive to the METZ rehearsal
room and tinker deep into the night on these songs’ deceptively simple structures
and rich, static-laden textures. “It was a godsend for me,” he states about the
creative process. “The hours would disappear and I would get lost in the music
and record. It was a beautiful escape.”
 ‘Weird Nightmare’ is, in its own way, a study in extremes: Edkins’ melodic
instincts and penchant for dissonance are both turned up to the max throughout,
the latter reflecting not only the barn-burning tendencies of METZ, but Alex’s own
sonic predilections. “It doesn’t sound right to my ears until it’s pushed over the
edge.” He also cites other artists who are masterful at mixing the sublime and the
punishing - Kim Deal and Scout Niblett among them - as influences on his own
songwriting. “My favorite songs are the simple ones,” he explains. “I’ve never
been attracted to virtuosity or technicality. Certain songs have the power to lift
your spirits like nothing else can. I wanted to create that type of song.”
 A few guests pitch in on Weird Nightmare: Canadian alt-pop genius Chad
VanGaalen adds his unmistakable touch to the ever-escalating ‘Oh No’, while
Alicia Bognanno of Bully lends her distinctive pipes to the thrashing ‘Wrecked’, a
collaboration that effectively saved the song. “I almost didn’t put it on the album
because I thought it was missing something,” Edkins explains. “I sent it to Alicia
and she lifted it way up.”
 And taking risks and reaching out of Edkins’ comfort zone was the name of the
game when it came to making ‘Weird Nightmare’. “I found myself doing new
things I didn’t have the guts to do before, recording everything by myself and
trusting all of my musical instincts,” he states. “I think when music manifests
quickly, a certain amount of honesty automatically comes along with it. When it is
a purely instinctual creation, there is no opportunity to obscure the truth.”
 Loser Edition LP pressed on Coke Bottle Green transparent vinyl.

If you’re looking for a raw, sugary blast of distorted pop, look no further than
‘Weird Nightmare’. The debut album from METZ guitarist and vocalist Alex
Edkins contains all of his main band’s bite with an unexpected, yet totally
satisfying, sweetness. Imagine The Amps covering Big Star, or the gloriously
hissy miniature epics of classic-era Guided by Voices combined with the
bombast of ‘Copper Blue’- era Sugar - just tons of red-line distortion cut with the
type of tunecraft that thrills the moment it hits your ears.
 These ten songs showcase a new side of Edkins’ already-established
songwriting, but even though the bulk of ‘Weird Nightmare’ was recorded during
the COVID-19 pandemic, some of its tunes date back to 2013 in demo form.
“Hooks and melody have always been a big part of my writing, but they really
became the main focus this time” he explains. “It was about doing what felt
natural.”
 To be clear: Weird Nightmare is not a ‘pandemic album’, but an album - some of
which had been gestating for quite a while - that just so happened to be recorded
during the pandemic. “I had always planned on finishing these songs, but being
unable to tour with METZ, and forced to lock down, really gave me a push.” After
days spent homeschooling his son, Edkins would drive to the METZ rehearsal
room and tinker deep into the night on these songs’ deceptively simple structures
and rich, static-laden textures. “It was a godsend for me,” he states about the
creative process. “The hours would disappear and I would get lost in the music
and record. It was a beautiful escape.”
 ‘Weird Nightmare’ is, in its own way, a study in extremes: Edkins’ melodic
instincts and penchant for dissonance are both turned up to the max throughout,
the latter reflecting not only the barn-burning tendencies of METZ, but Alex’s own
sonic predilections. “It doesn’t sound right to my ears until it’s pushed over the
edge.” He also cites other artists who are masterful at mixing the sublime and the
punishing - Kim Deal and Scout Niblett among them - as influences on his own
songwriting. “My favorite songs are the simple ones,” he explains. “I’ve never
been attracted to virtuosity or technicality. Certain songs have the power to lift
your spirits like nothing else can. I wanted to create that type of song.”
 A few guests pitch in on Weird Nightmare: Canadian alt-pop genius Chad
VanGaalen adds his unmistakable touch to the ever-escalating ‘Oh No’, while
Alicia Bognanno of Bully lends her distinctive pipes to the thrashing ‘Wrecked’, a
collaboration that effectively saved the song. “I almost didn’t put it on the album
because I thought it was missing something,” Edkins explains. “I sent it to Alicia
and she lifted it way up.”
 And taking risks and reaching out of Edkins’ comfort zone was the name of the
game when it came to making ‘Weird Nightmare’. “I found myself doing new
things I didn’t have the guts to do before, recording everything by myself and
trusting all of my musical instincts,” he states. “I think when music manifests
quickly, a certain amount of honesty automatically comes along with it. When it is
a purely instinctual creation, there is no opportunity to obscure the truth.”
 Loser Edition LP pressed on Coke Bottle Green transparent vinyl.

Duke Ellington and Ella Fitzgerald's paths had surely crossed many times during the Thirties, Forties, and early Fifties. However, no recorded trace of the two legendary musicians collaborating existed until 1957, when they participated on a series of big band sessions for Norman Granz. The sessions were somewhat chaotic and intermittent though, primarily because of Ellington's busy schedule and lack of time to prepare arrangements. As a result, the big band sessions were
padded out it with various all-star sextettes, as represented on the LP.

In the more than two decades since their launch, Swedish Metallers Sabaton have gained a legion of loyal fans across the globe by carving out a reputation as one of the hardest working bands in the business, an assessment shared by the UK's Guardian: “Other than veterans Iron Maiden, Sabaton is the biggest heavy metal band in Europe.” Since the band’s debut album in 2005, Sabaton has been combining standout stage design and production with epic concept albums, linking real-life historical war events with classic kick-ass metal. Sabaton has released nine studio albums, amassed six GOLD, one PLATINUM, and one four-times-PLATINUM awards, seen eight of its albums score Top 10 international chart status and six claim the Top 5. The band has earned eight Metal Hammer Golden Gods Awards nominations, taking home the award for “Breakthrough Artist” in 2011 and “Best Live Band” in three different years, and a Grammis nomination (Swedish equivalent to the U.S. GRAMMY) as Best Heavy Metal Band. Sabaton has amassed more than two-billion streams across all streaming platforms, and more than 1.5-billion YouTube views. Over its 20-year touring history, Sabaton has headlined major festivals and sold-out arena concerts around the world.

Just recently, the band not only announced their new studio album "The War To End All Wars" but also their "Tour To End All Tours": In Spring 2022, SABATON will be visiting 26 cities in 17 countries, bringing their ground-breaking modern metal to the people and delivering breathtaking live shows in a setting that will once again set new bars for concerts of this kind. SABATON will be supported by Mongolian rock band THE HU and Finnish heavy metal veterans LORDI.

Abbey Lincoln's distinctive vocal style, thought-provoking writing, and spirited personality has secured her a place among the jazz greats. Though she made her first recording for Riverside, and later in life for Verve, it was with the young and audacious Candid Records that she made her biggest musical statement, 1961's Straight Ahead. Straight Ahead is one of Abbey Lincoln's greatest and most important recordings. A testament to her credibility and talents, the section on this album includes saxophone giant Colman Hawkins, the great Eric Dolphy on flute alto, trumpeter Booker Little, pianist Mal Waldron and the iconic drummer Max Roach.

VINTAGE CROP serve to serve again. Over the last four years the Geelong group have become a burgeoning force in the Australian punk scene. Their burly, brusque yet supple songs have evolved from the garage rock of 2017’s ‘TV Organs’ album into the post-punk panic attack of last year’s ‘Company Man’ EP. Now they’ve sculpted their sound further, the barrage now offset with robust songwriting, their full-pelt bounce tempered with flailing guitar lines and sardonic commentary. Bringing to mind Wire tackling tracks from early 7”s by The Yummy Fur, it’s an inspired approach, both striking and effortlessly mirthful. Vintage Crop still dish-up plenty of commanding stomp, their lyrics remain as keen-eyed as ever, but now they’re unafraid to mess with the tempo and drive their point home.
‘Serve To Serve Again’ is Vintage Crop’s third full-length album. It was recorded by Mikey Young after a year of playing solid shows, including tours in Europe and the UK alongside Louder Than Death and URSA and some of the band’s biggest shows to date in Australia with Amyl & The Sniffers, R.M.F.C. and The Stroppies. This allowed Vintage Crop to nail the songs live before committing them to tape, pulling and pushing ideas, stretching them into new-found territories. ‘First In Line’ races off the blocks with its sawtooth riff and splintered beat, all jagged edges and ragged vocals. Quickly follow a pair of totemic bruisers in the guise of ‘The Ladder’ and ‘The North’, both brimming with a nigh anthemic quality, confident in their faculty to rouse the rabble. ‘Jack’s Casino’ is a lurching romp about gambling, ‘Streetview’ is similarly propellent, only choosing to meander and divert itself with cryptic trips around the neighbourhood: “He only moved to that side of town because the postcode is worth it’s weight in gold”.
There’s no better poised nod to frustration than ‘Gridlock’ - “the hustle and bustle of inner-city traffic is driving me nuts because the radios on static”. Guitar lines entwine and wriggle wildly free from the song’s pouncing rhythm and potent vocal, making for the most vigorous of rackets. ‘Just My Luck’ prowls with a shared thrumming verve, whilst ‘Everyday Heroes’ closes out the album with measured flair. Skewed and fervent, rangy at times yet always assured in its intent ‘Serve To Serve Again’ is long-legged leap for Vintage Crop into the delirious now. These songs strive to make sense of futility, they criticise the chain of command, question privilege and most importantly make us want more from life. Now all we have to do is turn up the volume!

- 180 GRAM AUDIOPHILE VINYL
- LIMITED EDITION OF 1000 INDIVIDUALLY NUMBERED COPIES ON ORANGE COLOURED VINYL

The Jamaican reggae and dub musician Linval Thompson's career began around the age of 20. He has done much work to shape the reggae music during the last centuries. He collaborated with many of the greats of Jamaican music recording. I Love Marijuana was his first self-produced LP in 1978 and featuring some of his well-known tracks, like the title song, the funky 'Dread are the Controller' and 'Just Another Girl.' One of the nation's best bands, The Revolutionaries, is backing him up. It's one of the finest recordings by Linval, before he moved on to become a prominent record producer.

I Love Marijuana is available as a limited edition of 1000 individually numbered copies on orange coloured vinyl.

Reissue of the Count Basie Orchestra's 1970 album 'High Voltage',
arranged by Chico O'Farrill and featuring Eddie "Lockjaw" Davis, Cecil
Payne, Joe Newman, Freddie Green and Harold Jones among others
When in January, 1970 Count Basie entered the studio with his 17-piece big band
to record 'High Voltage', he ushered in the last full decade as bandleader of his
Orchestra. The Orchestra had left its imprint on the sixties by recording with the
likes of Frank Sinatra and Ella Fitzgerald. There would be more great albums with
star vocalists in the seventies, but the band's purely instrumental works, which
had begun in 1965, would also continue. Back then Basie had engaged acclaimed
Cuban composer/arranger Chico O'Farrill to arrange the music for such concept
albums as "Basie Meets Bond" and "Basie's Beatle Bag", transforming them into
crossover gems.
On 'High Voltage' O'Farrill demonstrates his affinity to Basie's big band sound, this
time with a repertoire of standards. For this album, Basie specifically chose
pieces the band had never recorded in their more than 30-year existence. This is
saying something, since the band covers such an impressive span of jazz history,
from the beginning of the swing era to the bop-influenced bands of the 50's on
through to the present album.
The Count's new drummer Harold Jones propels Fred Fisher's "Chicago" with a
tremendous drive. The Rogers and Hart classic "Have You Met Miss Jones"
features beguilingly dense deep- register horn lines and an almost languorous
piano, and Eric Dixon's tasty flute solo spices up "The Lady Is A Tramp". With its
smoky sophistication, Eddie Lockjaw Davis' Tenor dominates "Bewitched",
whereas guest trumpeter Joe Newman's muted tongue-in-cheek solo highlights
"Day In Day Out". Of course, Basie himself also steps forward: for instance, on the
Fats Waller-like intro to "I'm Getting Sentimental Over You", and with the playful
grace notes on "If I Were A Bell"." Reminiscent of the Las Vegas shows the band
performed with Frank Sinatra, "Get Me To The Church On Time" is also a
masterful dialogue between the horn sections.

ltd edition box set, 4xlp + poster & dl card. rewriting the history of music, pere ubu continue to confound convention and shift personnel. the next box set in fire records’ reissue series, ‘nuke the whales’ houses 4 lps originally released between 2006 and 2014 – ‘why i luv women’, ‘carnival of souls’, ‘lady of shanghai’ and ‘long live pere ubu!’. ‘nuke the whales,’ is a nod of respect to a couple in cleveland who would daub such messages over the big news stations’ advertising boards. “very few bands display such dedication to constant self-reinvention as pere ubu” the quietus // all four albums have been remixed and remastered by original pere ubu member david thomas. ‘why i luv women’, originally released on glitterhouse in 2006, gains its first vinyl release. "spews 11 tunes of arcane lyrics and dense music” shrieked the cleveland gazaette. it’s joined by ‘long live pere ubu’ a soundtrack to a musical adaptation of the play. “skronking, squalling rhythms and melodic snippets undulating round a pulsating soundscape." record collector // and ‘lady from shanghai’, their fire debut for fire in 2013. originally released on the 35th anniversary of the group's debut, ‘the modern dance’, a latter day re-evaluation of the unprompted dance genre. and its follow up ‘carnival of souls’, a haunting “underscore’ to a tale of alienation, it “combines metallic percussion, spare guitars and david thomas' muttered vocals into something rustic and rickety, yet threatening at a moment's notice.”

Back in stock !

There is geological time and deep-space time. The natural world's time, and quantum time. Humans started measuring time with the stars and seasons. Then came hourglasses and sundials. The first mechanical clocks weren't in Europe until the late 13th century. Then came industrial time, a wristwatch for all and then everything had a time. A time for everything. All feeding into our recently digitised time and its marching nanoseconds. Let us not forget however another way to measure time: That would be K&D time.
Yes, you can rush, but isn't it so much nicer to amble? This onception of time may well have its roots in those smoke mists, softly blowing through the pre-history of 1995, and if that was time - then we need space. In particular, one Viennese front room that has turned its bass bins out to the cosmos. That sweet smoke, shrouding the desk and sampler. A few old keyboards (as a friend skins up at the back) unnoticed on the couch - just passing through...
Those days of K&D time had been thought to have gone. But one of times tricks is to hide itself in music. Not long ago (after a box of DATs had been found, and a DAT player prised back into service) back through the music wormhole our heroes fell into that smoke laden room of 1995. The remix time hadn't arrived nor the intense touring schedule. It was before the K&D sessions release and all that came with it, before the solo projects of the Peace Orchestra and Tosca. This was a time before all of that. A time for literally living in the studio and experiencing the joy of creating tune after tune. Just the sound and the smoke and no boundaries.
It was before people started asking about when the album was coming out. Which developed its own time specific answers. The 90s answer was soon, 00s answer was not sure and then: never! from 2010 onwards. The truth was, an album had been finished by the spring of '95 and all recorded onto DAT and placed in a box. K&D pressed up 10 copies and gave 4 away to some suitably eccentric individuals. Then the room's doors opened and in a tremendously big cloud of smoke time rushed in, K&D rushed out, and the years went rolling by. The days got filled with remixes, touring and life.
Then in early 2020 that chance moving of a box at the back of a room exposed the DATs and their time transporting properties. As K&D went through them they ended up comfortable and back in the room and that wonderful haze of 1995. The music was transferred from the DATs and K&D painstakingly rebuilt every molecule that made up the original 10 copies. From the very first takes of the mixes printed onto tape, to the solid slab of black virgin vinyl, to the abused by many plays, white cover. Even down to the labels that says "'Unverkäufliche Musterplatte" (Testpressing - Not For Sale) in rather rude German.
It now looks, feels and sounds pretty much exactly the same as those original 10 copies did in 1995. The only thing that couldn't be don is the original clouds of smoke those 10 copies were bathed in. That will be left to the listener to wrap it in the fresh harvest of 2020. In one way it's a musical time warp space travel. In another, if the music becomes classic and timeless, then it's of its time, whatever the time. So as the rooms bass bins are once again turned out towards the cosmos, K&D are happy and proud to release what they thought were lost moments. Drop through the worm hole, take your place on the couch. The friend who is skinning up, always just passing through, listening to an album for the future called 1995. It all makes sense if you measure in K&D time.

7" Black Vinyl limited to 1000 copies.

Teenagehood, brotherhood and a genuine love for alternative music has united THE GOA EXPRESS from the off. Hailing from the industrial town of Burnley and adopted by the Manchester culture carriers, their teenage years can be viewed as something of a hedonistic pilgrimage into the underbelly of suburban rock and roll- their first gig having been 3 songs blasted out their mates garage, the next on top of a local vintage shop where the floor nearly caved in: “when there’s fuck all, you make do with what you got”. The intensity of this friendship has resulted in the occasional bust up along the way, yet it only adds to the burning chemistry that the band offer on record and on stage. Together, brothers James Douglas Clarke (Guitar + Vocals) and Joe Clarke (Keys), along with Joey Stein (Lead Guitar), Naham Muzaffar (Bass) and Sam Launder (Drums) all contribute to a fuzzy wall of diverse sound, becoming harder to pin down with their constantly evolving, psych-umbrella’d, rock and roll. What sets THE GOA EXPRESS apart from other musicians who sit comfortably within scenes is that their identity as a band has been growing organically long before the 5 of them decided to pick up instruments and teach themselves art of killing time. Their genuine joy in the everyday; their attitude and antics seem to hark back to the glory days of the NME- if they talk about a night out, you want to be there because these lads ooze charm and wreak havoc. This purist, old school approach to creating music through unified experiences and stimulated good times is married with the plain fact that they are very much young people of this generation, and while they see its flaws its hyperreality, its sheep-like tendencies, they still understand the importance in the immediacy of pop music: of a banging riff, or a glorious chorus and how effective this can truly be, and they want everyone along for the ride. With influences ranging from Spacemen 3 and The Brian Jonestown Massacre to French existentialism, from Beat Literature to long hours working at the Bookies to the journey into the sunrise on the night bus home, it is their ability to be all these things at once which makes THE GOA EXPRESS a guitar band for the 21st Century. Nothing is ever a compromise because they are so unapologetically themselves in everything they do- proud Northerners with a DIY foundation that aren’t afraid to look into the often dim future and see themselves shining brightly in it, unforgiving and unpretentious. So far, the band have released 3 singles with great success. The first: ‘Be My Friend’, produced by Ross Orton right next Sheffield’s famous ‘City Sauna’ brothel, presents itself to us as a cheeky, snarling pop song, holding undertones of raw cynicism laden with psychedelic sunshine. Ross Orton’s studio was also right next door to where the band recorded their last single ‘The Day’ with Nathan Saoudi of Fat White Family at ‘Champ Zone.’ Both these producers have been able to give these instant pop classics a grittier feel, capturing the essence of the unfettered lifestyle the band were living at the time that they were able to capture themselves in the music video for ‘Be My Friend’. After signing with Ra-Ra Rok, (WU-LU/Bingo Fury) the band released anthemic summer hit ‘Second Time’, that went straight to the 6 music B-List before quickly heading up to the A-List 2 for 2 weeks. This was followed by the release of its B-Side ‘Overpass’ that almost immediately caught the eyes and ears of BBC Radio 1’s Jack Saunders, who had the band on his ‘Next Wave’ Segment. Closing the year that saw them play to 1000 strong crowds at festivals like Latitude & End of the Road, the band headlined their biggest headline show to date at Manchester’s Gorilla. Its fair to say that this really is only the beginning.

Judee Sill was an American singer and songwriter. She released two albums and partially completed a third album before her death in 1979. Sill encountered Graham Nash and David Crosby and toured with them for a time as their opening act, a year before the release of her debut album. She was hired by the Turtles to write songs, on which a few of them appeared on her debut album, such as 'Lady-O'. Two of Sill's biggest influences were Bach and Ray Charles.

Judee Sill's eponymous debut album of the same name was originally released in late 1971. Backing musicians include John Beck and Jim Pons from the Leaves. The majority of the album was produced by Henry Lewy, noted for his work with Joni Mitchell throughout the 70s. Graham Nash handled the duties for the single 'Jesus Was a Cross Maker' with his production designed to aim for radio airplay before the release of the album. Judee Sill featured Sill's voice in multiple overdubs, often in a four-part chorale or fugue. The songs are delivered in an acoustic style on guitar and, for 'Jesus was a Cross Maker' and 'Enchanted Sky Machines,' on piano. The songs on the album feature elements of folk, country, and gospel, but also strong classical influences.

Red hot Modern Soul 45 recorded in Memphis, Tennessee in 1985. Big thanks to Robert Garcia @mrbighappy & Daniel Mathis @quartzwatches for the research and words on this one!!

Brotherhood Band was started by Ernest Coleman(EC) and Clint Hyson, who met thorough a US Navy band called "Mid-South", which was the US Navy's premier musical organization operating out of Millington, Tennessee (20 min outside of Memphis). The group initially played as an instrumental jazz band. In keeping up with the times, they shifted gears towards a more contemporary sound. Shortly after, they decided to cut a single. Enter "Nicci's Theme", which is the B-side here and it's a beautiful jazz tune EC wrote for a girl he fell in love with. This song was supposed to be his door way in, but he actually never opened the door with her.

A few weeks later Clint called EC and played this syncopated bass line for him over the phone. And then EC being the ladies man that he was wrote the lyrics to "Leather Pants" to it. Part of the lyrics read "The pants they stretch, but they don't bust. Enough to make a blind man cuss", but it originally read as, "The pants they stretch, but they don't bust. Enough to make a PREACHER cuss". The song was ready, but they needed to find a singer. That's when member Richard Owens mentioned that he had a young cat back in Atlanta named Taji. In a gamble Taji drove up to Memphis for the Sunrise recording studio session to record the track. According to EC when Taji laid the vocals down he took the song to the next level. In fact it was so impactful that EC, who is now a Grammy producer, still references Taji's sessions when working with new artist.

After the single dropped the group played at Memphis hot spots, Bills Twilight Lounge and Club No Name. EC even had an idea to host a local leather pants contest as a way to promote the song. This lead to a frenzy of women seeking to be "Miss Leather Pants".